#I would both LIVE and DIE if I lived here

[lemonmaid]

You know what I love chat? Reincarnation.

Imagine being Sukuna's lover in every universe, in every life, every time stamp, but not surviving a single one.

Sukuna remembering every, e v e r y single one. The anguish, the raw feeling he feels every single time watching you die.

Warnings: slowly crippling insanity, yandereish, pregnancy, male pregnancy, omegaverse, mention abortion, gender neutral reader but the first and second are female and male, child birth, sacrificing

First.

It was a typical love story, a farm boy meeting a daughter of a shaman. When Sukuna first started courting, the man of the house, (Name)'s mother, told him that he had bad, very demonic energy and needed to be cleansed. (Name) and Sukuna rolled their eyes and eloped.

Sukuna rushed to his shared home with you. He was in the fields working in the blistering summer heat when a messenger ran towards him, telling him his wife was in labor.

He felt ecstatic. He prayed to the gods that your delivery would be safe.

Appernlty no gods bared him that request.

"Mrs Ryomen!! Relax".

(Name) let out a pained cry, their stomach contracted, tighting to move the babe from their stomach, "I- FUCK! I CANT!".

Midwives held onto (Name)'s hands, easing (Name) onto their knees, "Ma'am- you have to push-".

Sukuna slammed open the door, hearing his wife's crys, "I'm here!!".

(Name) looked at Sukuna with teary eyes, "Suki- OH GODS!".

Sukuna rushed to (Name)'s side, holding her hand, "Breathe my love-".

(Name) let out a scream, the midwives speaking amongst themselves. A small cry was heard, "it's a boy sir".

Sukuna held a proud smile on his face, looking down at his wife to see their reaction.

(Name) looked at Sukuna in a daze and back at their son, "he's beautiful Suki....".

Sukuna looked at (Name) with worried eyes, looking at the midwives, "something- hey- something is wrong!!".

One of the midwives looked under (Name)'s nightgown before going pale. One rushed out of the small hut. Sukuna gave his son to a midwife, before putting his focus on his wife, "hey hey hey, look at me, don't close your eyes".

The doctor didn't show up untill three hours later, but by that time (Name) was gone.

Sukuna looked at his crying son, his heart heavy, his mind weaked.

'I would do anything to bring them back'.

'Anything?' A voice rang out.

Sukuna looked backed at his crying son, then at the marbled statue at the altar.

That day, Sukuna murdered his own blood for a gamble with a hinnagami. It wasn't until his death that he knew what he wished for.

Second.

When Sukuna awoke, or when he first gained consciousness; he was in a different world or what he concluded a different universe.

Alphas, betas and Omegas.

It was... peculiar, different, but when he found you again, he stopped caring. You were a male this time, a beta male. It didn't matter to him. You were his mate, his soul mate, and he wasn't going to lose you this time.

"I want you to take birth control".

You looked at him with a deadpan face, "Okay werido".

"I'm serious".

You sighed. You've only dated or courted Sukuna for a year, and it felt like he knew everything about you, he had his quirks but it didn't make you love him any less.

"Baby." You reached over, grabbing his waist, "I'm a beta.... I can't get pregnant. "

"Sir, I'm surprised to say this, but you're pregnant".

Sukuna felt his heart drop to his chest. You were flabbergasted, "HOW!?" Both of you said in allusion.

"It looks like you're just.... an omega in terms".

Sukuna growled, "in terms of what? He doesn't have a scent nor-".

"I understand that, sir, your mate has.... we just need to do further testing".

After the doctor left the room, Sukuna has his eyes on you. "You need to get an abortion".

Your eyes widen, "excuse me?".

"You need to remove the thing-".

"That thing is our pup-".

"It's going to kill you-".

"You don't know that! People give birth every day, and it there's, like, barely a chance of death! We live in a time of technology! Not like, the stone age!".

Sukuna huffed, "I think....".

"I think you're just scared, baby..." You grabbed his hand, "... it's..... I know you're scared and I am too, but I want this with you... I'm ready. " You smiled softly at Sukuna, your smile relaxing him.

You were five months pregnant when you died. Sukuna could've laughed. It wasn't this pregnancy that killed you. No, it was a freak accident. Who would've thought that a fire happened at your work trapping you inside on your last day before maternity leave.

Three

When Sukuna awoke again, he vowed to just convince you (trap you) to stay at home. This time, he would get a vasectomy when he was of age.

Sukuna searched for you.

He didn't care about this world.

He just wanted to find you.

He found you.

But you were already dead.

20

In this life, luckily, he had the chance to grow up with you. You both went to the same school, became highschool sweethearts.

War broke out, separating you two.

No matter how much Sukuna fought against it, he was drafted. Sukuna didn't care who he hurted, he just wanted to go back home to you.

Which is why he cut his own foot off. He heard of other men doing the same thing, so why couldn't he?

While waiting in the discharge center he found out that his home town had been bombed.

Sukuna started hating humanity.

He hated this curse.

He hated that no matter what lifetime he was in, he could never have you to himself.

489

This life started out strange. He was born back into the Hiean period. But he couldn't find you. Instead of killing himself to reset the life, he decided to take centuries long frustration on humanity, it was a good run, people called him "King of Curses".

Instead of dying, cruelly, he was punished by being sealed. During that he rest he could only think of you and only you, how beautiful every form, every life you've had, you were still breath taking.

He couldn't stand the fear in your eyes. He came back, and here you are staring at him like he is a monster. Sure, this isn't his body. And yes, you just saw him take over your student's body. But it doesn't matter anyways, he's back.

And no one is going to take you away this time.

#heian era sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #male reader #female reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader

[m1d-45]

renewed

summary: many things have changed in aether's life since he met you...

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: n/a

-> gn reader (you/yours) + aether as traveller!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

aether isn’t quite human. at least not entirely, not anymore.

it could be argued that even prior to coming to teyvat, he and his sister weren’t entirely human. they were nearly always stronger than the native life wherever they traveled, never lingering long enough for an accurate portrait to be drawn. between their glittering wings and the razor sharp swords at their hips, it could be easily argued that from the perspective of the people they visited they could be called angels.

a few wrote legends about them. the gilded warriors with shimmering swords that blinded as they slashed, so in step with each other that it was as if they were one being. the saviors, the adventurers, the peaceful giants, twin faces atop four wings apiece. lumine always managed to sneak away a copy of these legends, and they privately laughed over the artwork at their camp that night.

“we don’t look that intimidating, do we?”

“i’m fairly certain-… hang on, is that a tail?”

“that’s supposed to my hair, i think.”

“no no, look. it connects lower, here.”

“…by the stars-”

they didn’t see themselves that way, though. they were simply twins, defined by the other in every sense. never apart for long, always stood side by side, trading swords before a dangerous fight as a promise to return them.

‘draw me with courage.’

‘wield me with valor.’

lumine and aether and aether and lumine. they never fussed about the order, so long as they were together. call them whatever you’d like, insults or praise or a simple, tired request to leave, as long as it was both of them. they were all they had left. the other half of their life. to try and pry apart the seam would only result in bleeding hearts, limbs tangling together to at least die by the other’s side. even ‘twin’ was too simple a word to fit the entirety of their lives into. ‘twin’ implied a degree of separation, an impossible gap between them where wind would blow and the world would dig into, pushing them away like waves in a boat’s wake. ‘twin’ was too shallow a word, to bitter, too small to encompass everything they felt.

such fervent devotion could never be considered ‘human,’ for no human would ever live long enough to know the fear that came with knowing everything that swelled would eventually fall. no human would clutch so desperately to the twin pillars in their life—would ever consider basing their world upon two things. they’d call it foolish, even, for what would you do if one collapsed?

aether never liked that question. he didn’t like it when he and lumine first heard it, he didn’t like it when he and lumine heard it a second time, he didn’t like it anytime he and lumine heard it after that. he didn’t like it now, her sword slipping from his hands as he reached, his fingers barely brushing hers.

the unknown god laughed, and he barely had time to feel rage before the world closed in on him and his memory faded away.

aether and lumine. lumine and aether. she was always insistent upon his safety, but just this once he wished she wasn’t. living in whatever stasis she was in within that cube would certainly hurt less than this, bile rising in his throat at his failure.

somewhere in his mind, he knew that it logically wasn’t his fault. he remembered the layer of warmth that had surrounded him mid-battle, saw the reflection of understanding in lumine’s eyes. it wasn’t technically his fault, he didn’t ask to be saved, ignoring that it was his own actions that led to his god’s blessing. perhaps if he wasn’t so strict about the time of his prayer he wouldn’t have to be alone on this beach, though there was no way to find out. the sand stretched on either side, and though it wasn’t infinite, he had not left the immediate area around where he’d first woken up. to move was to move on, to leave, to accept that his world had shattered into a thousand little fragments and to give up on picking them off the floor. he couldn’t leave. to leave was to surrender to this new fate. to leave was to forget about his sister, to forget about his self, to forget about the half of his life he never imagined he could lose.

family and faith. to lose his gods favor was a threat he could live with, as there would only be himself to blame. but his sister?

if he hadn’t fished up paimon, he’s not certain he would have eaten the fish that came up instead.

she was bright, bubbly, at least after coughing up an impossible amount of seawater. she thanked him profusely while wringing out her hair, insisting on helping him in return because “it’s only fair!” as if he wasn’t three times her weight (save her magic) and and ten times as strong.

and he let her. he’s not sure why, but he did. he watched her fumble to catch crabs, ending up covered in sand, and managed a weak smile. it was for her, he told himself, spearing three with a sword that wasn’t his, helping her arrange driftwood into a measly campfire. he hardly felt hungry despite being on the beach for what had to be a few months in local time, but she was so insistent that he have some.. it was for her benefit. he just had to get her somewhere safe, then… then…

“so, where are you from?”

aether looked up from his barely-touched meal, meeting her eyes. they were so wide and earnest, too trusting for someone that just met him.

not that he had any ill intentions. no, lumine would always joke that the day he was willingly rude to another would be the day the sky turned red—something that had been the case on one of the planets they’d visited, much to her delight.

aether turned back to the fire, pushing aside the memory. “another planet.” his voice was hoarse and his throat scratched with salt from attempting to drink the seawater earlier, which was not as potable as he’d hoped. “i flew here with my sister.”

“you have a sister?” paimon looked around, though they both knew she wouldn’t find anything. “where is she?”

aether swallowed salt and bile, taking another bite of his crab just to stall. “how about we talk in the morning?”

she let the topic drop.

he didn’t sleep that night, lending her his scarf as a pillow and keeping watch. she didn’t wake when the moon erased the shadows in the sand, or when the sun first crested the sea, or when the sky fully lightened to a pale blue, birdsong filling the air. one of the remnants from the fire found its way into his hand, reaching out to gently shake her awake. her eyes were heavy and she covered her mouth as she yawned, aether looking away before his own could water.

he drew nothing in the sand as she asked her questions—who are you, where’d you come from, who are you missing, what happened to her, why didn’t you do anything?—sketching out mountains and seas he wiped away as soon as they took form. he spoke for much longer than he meant to, his words pulled out as if they were tied to some invisible string.

when was the last time he was alone for this long?

paimon listened intently, brows drawn and frowning deeply, watching as he carved twin—twin, separated by time and space—stars into the sand. “so… what you’re trying to say is that you fell here… from another world? but when you wanted to leave, to go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”

wow, he wanted to snark, i didn’t know there was an echo out here! but the chance never came. magic gripped him by the throat and his eyes went wide in panic, his mouth shaping words he didn’t choose to say by force. he didn’t want to say what someone else told him to. he didn’t know what was going on. he was being pulled at some ghost’s whims, walking stiffly across the sand. it did not skid from beneath his feet, nor pull his balance one way or another. it was solid as stone, leading him up the beach without warning, without knowledge of why or when it would stop.

when was the last time he was this helpless?

(lumine.)

he stumbled across the shore on uncoordinated limbs, fighting fruitlessly. ahead, slime bubbled up from where the sand met the sea, but the ghost did not stop. mist coagulated into a pale blue blob with hazy spots for eyes, and only then was he allowed to stop. paimon yelped and ducked behind him, a familiar weight sinking into his hand. the slime had barely the chance to turn and see him, jerking up as if surprised, when his arm slashed forward.

a sword. not his sword, not lumine’s sword, but a sword, pulled from nowhere, the dull blade hacking at the blob of its own will until the sludge dispersed and sunk back into the sand. a soft mist lingered above the sand, but he was pulled forward without care or remorse. he didn’t even know if it would have hurt him.

weight hit him between the shoulders, cold spreading over his skin and absorbing into his skin. energy buzzed beside his ear, his earring humming with neither outlet nor conduit. were he anyone else, he would have been afraid, but he recognized the buzz. all at once, he understood. all at once, the weak puppetry was vindicated, his muscles relaxing and letting it happen. your energy sank into him, and he let himself stop worrying.

if you were here, he’d be okay. if you were here, you could fix this.

if you were here, he could find his sister, and everything would be okay again.

aether was not human. not entirely, not anymore, and he knew the people of mondstat could tell. you had stayed to guide his body for a week, alternating between helping the knights with dvalin and exploring the plains of mondstat. he was weak and your grip was frail, his attacks uncoordinated and clumsy, but you were there. you understood. the cavalry captain gave him a long stare as they exited his domain, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swirling in his one eye.

when you finally left, you did so in the middle of mondstat square. a physical weight lifted from his shoulders, the anemo he’d absorbed turning from calm and controlled to pushing at the edges of his form, trying to make him give. the anemo archon approached, soothing the wind with a wave of his hand, pulling him along for a drink and a chat. his knees did not want to bend without your command, his mind fraying a bit from continued exposure.

“how interesting, that you’re still standing after a week without rest,” the bartender remarked, the glass in his hands obviously an excuse to keep them above the bar. “what’s your name, outlander?”

he did not think of his own name. no, when he went to answer, he thought of the name you had given him, the one you whispered as you sheltered him from the unknown god’s wrath. it was not his, but it was yours, and wasn’t that what he was asking for?

it took too long for him to answer. red eyes narrowed but eventually chalked it up to exhaustion, giving him directions he couldn’t hear. the captain led him to a room in the back, but he didn’t sleep that night, sitting at the window and searching for the thin sliver of stars.

he didn’t need to eat anymore. he could, certainly, and it tasted fine enough, but he didn’t exactly need to. he’d thought it odd, at first, that barbatos was healed strictly by the wind, but he understood now. he spent his free time sitting under vanessa’s tree, half-asleep as he waited for your return.

you were his source of energy, of will. you knew answers to problems he’d have given up on, and if you didn’t then you tried and tried and tried again until you got it right. you were the power that purified dvalin’s tears, you swept the wind to fix the holy lyre, you cleared the seals around decarabian’s tower. he was a medium, and he was happy with that. your presence waxed and waned, the lapses without you seeming to pass by in a blink.

a few of the knights worried for him, but he knew your vessels understood. none held as much of your power as him, none were as reliant on you, but they understood. they excused his oddities with a kind smile, paimon always at his side to make sure he didn’t waste away the day simply sitting in one spot. prior to coming to teyvat, the concept of elemental sight was something he was only vaguely familiar with. a few planets had some talented witches that could feel the flow of energy through the ground and grass, who could watch the mist in the air and predict the weather. he’d never experienced it himself before. now, the world lit up as his eyes took on a teal sheen, your power mixing with the anemo within him to grant him insight. the world was so vibrant, even the most mundane sights capturing his attention. how could he not stare? if he had it his way he’d always view your creations like this.. but whenever paimon snapped him out of it he’d come out of it with a headache, not to mention his staring tended to be off-putting to those around.

a lot of his new behaviors were. when within your control, he moved stiffly, with repetitive motions forecast well in advance. you chose what he said, when and how he moved, you controlled the very flow of elements through his body. it was harder and harder to think for himself without you there and though paimon handled most of the conversation, there was only so much she could say.

“who are you looking for?” lumine. his sister. himself. the knowledge was there but his throat was closed, unwilling to move without your order.

“thank you for your help.” you’re welcome. don’t worry about it. it was nothing. all he could manage was a stiff nod, eyes flicking to the sky, counting the days until your return. he’d gotten a good grasp of your routine by now.

“who are you?” yours. a traveller. lumine’s. he could not blame those they ran across for their suspicion, even though he wanted to. could they not feel the remains of your presence lingering around him?

they had to go to the rite of decension soon. liyue was holding off, though, waiting for your arrival. they’d never dare to make you miss it, so aether felt no hurry to leave. he laid in the middle of windrise, staring up at the stars. he used to sit atop the knights’ headquarters, but it took too long for the lights of the city to turn out and he liked picking out the various constellations.

his was up there, somewhere. he didn’t have a vision like your other vessels, but he could feel it. it was written right beside your decision to save him and not lumine, alongside your actions in mondstat and everything you’d do in liyue. fate, you’d called it, well-acquainted and intertwined.

aether fell asleep on wet grass among cold wind. he did not get sick, nor was he attacked or otherwise hurt. why would he have been, anyway? your blood was in his veins; he had nothing at all to fear.

#yet another borderline character study.. aether my babygirl though <3 #genshin #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact #self aware genshin #genshin aether #aether genshin impact #sagau aether #genshin traveler #uhhh sure ill #aether x reader #aether #genshin impact sagau #aether fluff #sagau genshin #why are there 6000 sagau tags bro #codependent aether and lumine is something i fall for every time #chat you would not believe the fucking grip the fatui have on me AGAIN #99/100 next post is fatuiposting #shout out to tumblr for not posting what i saved. yeah that’s good (lie)

[athanza]

Starlett - Final part

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, romance, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2077

That night, after dinner, Irene found Cooper on the sofa with Janey asleep on his lap, watching an old noire film with the volume down low.

"Thank you very much for dinner Mr. H- Cooper." She corrected herself, speaking low so as not to wake Janey. "It was lovely."

He looked up as she walked over. "It was no trouble at all. Janey loved having you here."

She smiled at his daughters sleeping face as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. "You've got a good kid there."

He looked down at her proudly. "Yeah, I sure do."

"She reminds me of my baby sister, she lives with my folks in Sacramento. I don't get to see her much anymore with my work and everything with Frank and Lee. It'll be good to see her again."

"How long has it been?"

"Almost 2 years. I know my sister resents me for how much I'm away, but hopefully that'll change now that I'll be away from Frank, at least until the divorce proceedings." She sighed with uneasiness.

"You'll be fine." Said Cooper encouragingly. "You're stronger than you think."

"Ditto." She smiled warmly. "And don't worry about Janey, you both love her so much. She'll understand when she's older, I promise."

He smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you."

She looked into his eyes and saw something she never had, a good man, a man who loves unconditionally and stands up for his family.

She, just for a moment, imagined what it would be like if he was her husband instead of Frank, if Janey were their daughter, if this was her life and not the daily abuse she had been going home to every night.

She could feel emotions begin to well behind her eyes and she snapped out of it before she embarrassed herself.

"Well, I should get some sleep, I'll be leaving early tomorrow. Thank you again."

The warmness that emanated from her was a welcome comfort in the midst of everything that had happened in the last few months. He almost didn't want her to leave, but he couldn't let himself fall, not now, not for her. They were meant for another time, another world, not this one.

"Irene?" Said Cooper, stopping her before she left. "This whole thing with Vault Tec...something's happening, something I'm not sure we'll ever come back from.

You're free from it now. Whatever's coming...it won't be worth giving up your happiness."

What he said about Vault Tec concerned her, not that it was surprising, but he was right about her happiness, he was right about everything. She wasn't going to be held back any longer.

"Thank you." She said, smiling softly.

2296

The sky was still dark when he left the cave. He'd covered Irene with whatever he could find to try to conceal her from raiders, hoping nothing else would find her while he was gone.

He knew there was a clinic in this area somewhere but whether it had anything left in it was a gamble.

As he made his way hastily through the area, he couldn't stop thinking about her and it just made him angry, 219 years of trying to become the monster that he had to be in order to survive, only for her to show up and remind him of that warmth that he'd long since forgotten. It made him weak, but he couldn't let her die, not now.

He heard movement up ahead, two men laughing drunkenly as they stumbled to find somewhere to relieve themselves.

Raiders.

The cages and skewered bodies around the building were a dead give-away and their little base just happened to be the clinic he was looking for.

Jackpot. They definitely had a stash in there somewhere.

The two men separated to find somewhere to piss but just as one got comfortable, Cooper blast his head off and took the other one out just a split second later.

"Oh HELL no!" Came a voice from the doorway of the clinic.

Without hesitation, Cooper shot him too, a bloody mess left on the door frame behind where he had been standing.

He stormed inside, his pump-action shotgun in hand, willing to use up all of his ammo to get what he needed.

Bullets and wood chips were flying every which way, and he took a bullet or two, but it took him no time at all to obliterate every person in that building.

He searched hastily for supplies, and when he found a first aid box full of stimpaks and cotton thread, he grabbed it and left, picking up several blood packs on his way out.

2077

The next morning, Irene was up early, her bag already in her car when Cooper came out to meet her.

"You weren't kiddin' about leavin' early." He said, the clock in the hallway reading 7:12am.

"I thought it'd be best if I left earlier rather than later."

He knew why. He didn't argue.

"Give this to Janey for me, would you? I noticed she liked it and I know it'll be in good hands."

She handed Cooper a silver locket with a daisy engraved delicately on the front.

He looked at it a bit surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't much care for it anymore. It'll be more appreciated with her." She smiled.

She did one last check of her purse to make sure she had everything and the tention in the air was starting to thicken. When she knew she had everything, she looked back up at him.

"Cooper?" She asked. "Do me a favour and don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak, always remember that, ok?"

She leant forward and kissed his cheek. "See you 'round cowboy."

She smiled at him one last time before getting in her car, and as he watched her drive away he felt his heart ache a little. He would miss her, her warm smiles, and how she made Janey laugh, but it wasn't meant to be, and he knew that.

2296

He pulled off the foliage covering her now pale body and opened the case.

Her breathing was shallow and laboured, a puddle of blood underneath her that had started to coagulate.

He used one of the stimpaks, then another, then another until he had used all six, then pulled out the thread and started sewing up the deep gashes on her side that were sticky with blood.

He remembered the last time he saw her, her smile, the kiss. He remembered watching her drive away and wishing she hadn't. He remembered the last things she said to him.

"...don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak..."

When he finished sewing, he hung up one of the blood bags and attached the long tube to her arm.

He was still and focused, hoping he wasn't too late, his hands now covered in her blood.

When she woke up after only a few minutes, she saw him sitting by the fire beside her and smiled sleepily.

"Hey there cowboy."

The End

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem reader #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x fem oc #cooper howard fic #cooper howard fanfic #cooper howard fan fiction #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x fem reader #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul x fem oc #the ghoul fic #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul fan fiction #fallout #fallout tv #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout prime #fallout amazon prime #walton goggins

[hannahssimblr]

Once, years ago now, Aunt Maureen took me to visit her eldest daughter, Karina. In the midday heat, beneath the shade of a fig tree we sat in a Venice restaurant, where bougainvillaea draped over the front of flat roofed houses and fragrant blooms edged the terrace. 

I loved Los Angeles. The food was always better, the people happier, the streets more colourful and picturesque than in Albuquerque, where everything was brown and beige, blending with the dust land. Karina laughed when I said this, sitting back in her chair in her oval sunglasses, a cigarette balanced between long slender fingers. 

“You should see where I live downtown, then I’ll ask you again how much you love it here.”

I didn’t know what she meant. I was thinking about those cool guys I’d seen on a basketball court earlier with their hats on backwards, the loud, bass heavy music they played from a speaker, and the skaters who dropped lazily into concrete basins on their boards. I wanted to be one of them, though I knew Maureen would never buy me something dangerous like a skateboard. I played things a bit fast and loose at the best of times and once almost rollerbladed clean off a pier, so she’d developed a fear that I might one day die of pure stupidity. Maybe when I was older and she wasn’t watching me from the kitchen window anymore I would move to LA, get myself a board and skate around on it without wearing a shirt, and get muscles and a deep tan like everyone else here. 

These were the kinds of thoughts I lost myself in as Maureen and Karina had conversations that either weren’t interesting or which I was unable to understand, but I was content sipping on my Fanta with ice, lurid orange, and so fizzy that it stung the back of my throat and thinking about being a grown up in LA while Maureen had her white wine and Karina her cigarettes. Soon they would order a plate of oysters that looked too much like boogers for me to sample and speak more about things happening, things that had already happened, and plans they’d made for the summer. 

“What’s your favourite time of year?” Karina said to me suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I knew this is the sort of question you ask a seven year old when you don’t know how to speak to children, but I thought hard about it anyway to make sure I gave her the best answer I could. She was my cool, mature cousin, and I always wanted so badly to impress her. November and December, I told her, because I got presents on my birthday, then time off school on Thanksgiving and both these things on Christmas. I was still reeling from the PlayStation console that Maureen and her husband Mario had bought me last Christmas, slotted perfectly within its square, silver box, which I still had, stored carefully beneath my bed just in case I ever needed to pack it away and move it. 

“What about you, mom?” She said, and Maureen didn’t have to think. 

“The spring,” she said, “I just love to be out in my garden then, with all the flowers and that lovely sun, it’s not too hot. It feels like everything is just on the brink of bursting to life.”

I thought about that later as we passed the canal, all the beautiful spring flowers that erupted from the banks, and of home too, where by now, in the hazy days of mid May, the desert was blanketed with spring grasses, with violets and golden poppies and bluebonnets, burning a trail of vibrant indigo all the way to the mountains. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Ty to @scrapplesims for suffering living in LA once upon a time and for answering my weirdly specific questions about what it was like

#lucky boy 2009 #another flashback! #these are too fun to do tbh #any excuse to get out of dreary dublin (san sequoia) #and chilling out in LA (DS Valley) #hopefully I'll be back to regular updates soon! #it's been BUSY friends #tw: smoking #tw: alcohol

[wickjump]

Wick, i wanna hear your thoughts on horror x cross..I’m desperate to hear someone talk about them. Idc how crazy or how ooc it is. trust that I will eat it up like it’s a million dollar steak

OH MY GOD THNAK YOU SO MUCH VIBINGTOPAZ IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT THEM WORDS CANT EXPLAIN HOW HAPPY OKAY HERE YOU TO HERES A BIG FAT HEADCANON DUMP. i never see them outside of bsp and don’t get me wrong i love the bsp but sometimes i just want these two on their own yk? this is a bit more fanon than my normal stuff btw but i try my best ok

okok here:

when cross first joined nm and his group he was terrified of horror. he was intimidated by everyone, but horror was the most visibly scary. like there was just no ignoring the fact that this guy killed people before like he ignored it with everyone else. so for a good long while he kept his distance, and it was horror who tried to reach out first after months of never talking despite living in the same building, eating at the same table, and working under the same guy.

it was very clear that talking to cross just at all scared the shit out of him, and since horror is in charge of the cooking, he decided hey why not, and started making foods that appealed to cross as a sort of peace offering. after a while, cross realized what horror’s intent was, and slowly started to come around. he even attempted to give horror food in return (a few of the chocolate bars he had squirreled away) which solidified them as allies and set the foundation for them to develop a further friendship and relationship.

food is their initial and primary love language because it was a medium they could both work with when they first started becoming friends—horror enjoyed being given and giving food purely because he HAS it, and he’s able to make sure he and those he loves are fed, and cross had cooked with undyne alongside his brother and knows the basics of it and enjoys it. cross is literally the only one allowed in the kitchen outside of horror and nightmare, partially bc horror loooovesss him and partially because he’s actually responsible. horror makes him brownies sometimes just because he can btw. or like those chocolate taco desserts? cross loves those so horror makes them. all the time. cross does not mind he likes it a lot actually it’s very sweet

horror and cross are the epitome of i would kill for you (horror) x i would die for you (cross). they’re both very very intense but in different ways and i love that for them. cross takes blows on the battlefield meanwhile horror attacks those on behalf of cross when the other hesitates or refuses to kill (which is all the time cross at heart is a pacifist).

i also feel like they’d be big on physical touch but maybe i’m just super lonely. they’re devoted in different ways and i like that for them. they seem like big ‘kiss on the hand’ people yk what i’m talking about. like the back of your hand kiss. that. i also think they’re one of those cringe ass couples who like. do the waist grabby from behind when they’re cooking or generally working. ew cringe romance (i would die for them). neck kisses too. and biting but that tips into suggestive territory. they’d be big on that though

oh hey angst time. horror feels guilty and somewhat disturbed whenever cross mentions alphys, because of his au’s alphys incident, and it’s the same with undyne. cross was very close with both of them, more so than horror ever was despite having been alphys’ coworker at one point (after all, alphys was cross’ sister), and he feels bad because like. cross speaks so highly of alphys and undyne, but horror tore apart alphys’ mind and undyne is literally the cause of his most visible scar. he feels guilt for what he did, and refuses to elaborate on his au’s alphys and undyne for the most part because he doesn’t want to fuck cross up with the knowledge of the things horror did, the things alphys did, the things undyne did. thankfully after getting the hint that horror did not like mentions of undyne, cross stopped mentioning his undyne pretty much entirely and speaks of alphys a little bit less, and they never really elaborated on that fully outside of choppy confessions during panic attacks.

meanwhile, cross doesn’t understand why horror never visits his au, or at least his brother. because horror is ABLE to, he has his au right there, but he just… never visits? none of his family, his friends? cross would kill and die for the chance to get his au back, but horror doesn’t care for his? horror feeds them and that’s it, he doesn’t remember the last time horror just took a break to visit his family. cross would sacrifice his own life for even a sliver of a chance of getting his family back. it’s not until he fully understands how horrifying horror’s au is that he doesn’t resent him as much for it.

their clashing views and experience are hard to look past, but in the end they love each other enough to empathize with each other and the situations they’d come from. horror has issues with remembering and articulating things from time to time combined with severe migraines, so cross helps him with those. horror meanwhile gets cross to sit the fuck down and take care of himself jesus christ man because what do you mean this asshole is INTENTIONALLY starving himself. fym “i feel like i haven’t earned it lol” sit the fuck down and eat this food i LOVINGLY PREPARED. GOD. they help each other w their issues and bad habits. cross works himself to near death? okay shut up i’m going to forcibly lift you up and carry you to your room and lock you inside until you go to sleep. horror throws up after eating because he can’t handle that much food? cross is there to help him through it. i like them a lot. they r there for each other through their highs and lows.

since i hate xchara exclusion i think xchara like absolutely fucking despises horror. not because he’s evil and mean and grrr to cross, but he just genuinely does not trust horror and cannot believe that he has any sort of good intentions. xchara sort of fueled cross’ doubt about him for a while, though as time moved on and horror didn’t seem to have any harmful ulterior motives, xchara toned down on the whole ‘he is going to kill you don’t blink around him or you will die’ talk. not entirely but you know. he’s always got the ‘i’ve got my eye on you’ look whenever horror is anywhere near them but horror doesn’t know that unfortunately. he doesn’t get the pseudo brother stamp of approval. horror’s brother likes cross a lot though, especially because cross is literally the exact opposite of lazy and unhealthy and encourages self care of others (not himself, the absolute loser). like out of anyone he could’ve ended up with, horror’s brother (creeps? crooks? sugar??) likes cross the best i think.

ok speed round: cross is the type to not notice when anyone is interested in him, just at all. most frustrating months of horror’s life really. horror packs little trail mix baggies for cross when he goes out on missions or patrol. this is just cause i think it’s cute. purring skeletons, i like purring skeletons it’s my favorite thing ever and i think they should get to purr together and lay down in bed for hours on end half asleep half awake just existing together. when cross saw his very first colored sunset horror was there and that definitely furthered the at the time small spark of romance. cross, bc he’s a swap, is much more of a superhero nerd than a science nerd like horror, and they bicker over whether or not they watch a documentary or action movie. i think they don’t bicker like killer and dust do, they bicker in like. the very clearly lighthearted and cutesy way that doesn’t last long. it’s more like banter actually. gags

ok that’s it (for now…..) because i don’t want this to be too-too long. i love them and i was so so so so SO excited when you asked me this omg. i love asks like these i cannot stress this enough. ask me whatever you want whenever you want and i will answer. if it doesn’t seem like i have, that’s because it’s in my drafts and being worked on because sometimes i’m unsure or have half finished thoughts i want to put the effort in fleshing out later bc y’all deserve headcanons that aren’t half baked. anyway i will literally never get tired of this it’s so fun

#way more fanon than usual #like wayyy more fanon #but stfu i’m having fun over here #and i cannot see them in canon or canon adjacent ever probably #they’re far too different #horror sans #cross sans #horrorcross #cross x horror #horror x cross #bad sanses #sanscest #utmv

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 14/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FORTEEN

              His dad has been left in charge of the slow cooker, which doesn’t involve much and if he forgets then it’s not disastrous. Of course his mom is a little upset that she’s not making anything special for Bradley’s first family dinner but Jake is secretly pleased, because it feels less formal, like it’s just a casual family dinner. Also with it being same-day it means none of his siblings are able to make it, and the rest of his extended family generally won’t come over on a week night, regardless of what new person his mom might want to run the gauntlet.

              His stomach won’t stop churning and he can’t believe he’s making Bradley endure dinner with his parents before they even have a proper date. It feels all backwards, but Bradley doesn’t seem to mind at all, and he doesn’t want to wait until it somehow feels normal, can’t wait longer than he already has. He hears the knock on the door and stops both his parents in their tracks to answer it, although they both snort and huff in amusement but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need them answering the door right now, wants to give Bradley one final chance to back out.

              “Hi. Welcome,” Jake says, voice normal level, knowing his mom will be listening in. He drops to a whisper. “You can still decide to turn back and save yourself…”

              “It’s dinner, not marriage,” Bradley replies, and he’s taking off his boots, eyes not leaving Jake’s face though and he realizes Bradley has showered and changed, hair damp and curling and he wants to run his hands through it. Maybe he wants Bradley to run away and take Jake with him. Instead Bradley is stepping forward and brushing the softest kiss over his lips and Jake ducks his head to hide his pleased smile. Okay. He’ll put up with a lot if Bradley keeps looking at him like he’s something special.

              “My parents are just through here,” Jake says, waving a hand in the general direction of the kitchen, knowing that is where his parents will be waiting. Except Bradley’s eyes have fallen on the living room, and there are family photos everywhere and Jake is

              “You have a piano…”

              “Oh. Yeah. Do you play?”

              “A little.”

              Jake bites his lip and decides that his future self can regret his past-self’s life decisions, but right now he really wants to see Bradley’s fingers stretching out and playing. Also because he suspects that Bradley’s idea of playing a little is something akin to Jake saying he acts a little. He’s bound to be insufferably good at it, like he seems to be at everything else, except for seeing the obvious despite it being right in front of him.

              “Do you want to play something?” Jake asks, because Bradley is still looking at the piano longingly and he pushes him towards it, knows Bradley playing the piano is only going to make his mom even more thrilled.

              “Yeah… do you mind? You have any requests?”

              “You said you play a little and yet I get to request a song?”

              “Didn’t say it would be any good.”

              Jake rolls his eyes, because he’ll be shocked if Bradley isn’t equally competent at playing the piano as he is everything else. He’s already started a tune and after a few seconds he recognizes it, but he also realizes he’s an idiot. He’d forgotten his body’s original visceral reaction to when he’d first watched Bradley nearly two years ago. Using the whip and opening bottles, his fingers on the ropes, his climbing and acrobatic skills… Seeing him ride a couple of days ago and watching him now, his fingers playing effortlessly, body moving with the music. Jake’s getting hard watching him and he doesn’t need to die from embarrassment because of what his mom might say. He’s perfectly capable of managing all by himself.

              Of course, that’s the moment his mom decides to appear, the pleased surprise on her face and hearing someone play the piano who isn’t her and he lets out the breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding, because the presence of his mom, the reminder he’s about to sit down to dinner, is enough to ratchet down the building arousal. He’s grateful for small mercies.

              “Oh… you play beautifully Bradley. You’re welcome to come and use the piano any time you want. It’s so nice to hear someone playing.”

              “Thanks. It’s not often I get the chance. Whose piano is it?”

              “Mine, although all my children play. Do you not have a piano at home?”

              “Depends where I’m calling home. I have access to a few pianos, but only a keyboard in my apartment. It’s not quite the same.”

              “No, it’s really not,” his mom says, and she’s now asking if he took lessons and Jake wonders how much more she knows about Bradley simply because she’s had two weeks to ask all the questions she wants and assuage her curiosity ten times over. God. No wonder Bradley isn’t worried about having dinner with her.

              They sit down to dinner, and he expects his mom to interrogate Bradley. Expects to spend the entire time red-faced with embarrassment. Instead it’s a really pleasant, although he does spend most of it tense with nerves, sure that his mom is going to say something absolutely mortifying. She just keeps up a friendly flow of conversation and doesn’t bring up anything that might even embarrass him a little. He doesn’t trust her at all. His dad is having a good day, gentle humor and quiet observations making Bradley laugh. Jake knows he doesn’t need to worry about his dad liking him, can already see the quiet approval in the way he talks with Bradley.

              Bradley offers to do the washing up, and Jake isn’t surprised when his mom agrees, telling them they can both do it and it’s the fact that she’s not treating Bradley like a guest which makes him feel a little less tense. She’s treating him like family, pairing him with Jake already and accepting his offer of help despite it going against every hospital bone in her body. She squeezes his arm as she passes, gives him a little smile and he can’t help but smile back, pleased and a lot relieved that she’s not making this into a bigger deal than it already feels like.

              “For all your dramatic that was nowhere near as bad as I was expecting,” Bradley says, and he’s looking at Jake with the same soft smile he greeted Jake with when he arrived and he gives in to the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

              “I’m an actor, I’m allowed to be dramatic. Literally in my job description.”

              Bradley grins, kisses him and then shoves a soapy wet plate in his general direction, making his shirt wet and Jake pulls a face but Bradley is laughing and Jake can’t help the sheer amount of joy and excitement popping inside him like little kernels of popping corn.

…           …           …

              Bradley’s cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He knew Jake wasn’t going to get off lightly, that his mom probably had something planned, but when she’d returned to the kitchen carrying multiple photo albums he’d not been able to do anything but laugh at the expression on Jake’s face; a mix between annoyance and embarrassment. He hadn’t been able to help himself, wrapped his arms around Jake from behind, chin resting on his shoulder so he could whisper into his ear you’ll get to see mine, Pete has an embarrassing amount. He’d felt Jake relax at his words and he’d felt relieved that Jake still seemed to want that.

              He’s seen photos of every single family member, trying to memorize them all, despite Jake, Kaye and Bill all telling him not to even try. He’ll also apparently get to meet most of them, if not all of them, in the coming weeks. He’s pretty sure having Aunty Kaye and Bill on his side will make the rest all fall into place, he’s not worried at all. Jake’s parents have gone to bed, his mom making a comment about not staying up too late, which had made Jake roll his eyes and blush, muttering under his breath about unholy terrors. Bradley has to admit that he really likes the fact that Jake seems so close with all his family.

              Now it’s time for him to go though, he’s definitely not staying, that’s past the level of familiarity even for him and he’s glad Jake doesn’t seem to expect him to. He pats his pockets, looking for his phone, eyes scanning the flat surfaces around, because he knows he took it out and put it somewhere, but he can’t remember where exactly.

              “You okay?”

              “Yeah, just put my phone down somewhere and can’t remember where.”

              “Oh, let me ring it.”

              Bradley opens his mouth to give him the number but Jake isn’t looking at him, is simply opening his phone and thumbing through and then he can hear his phone ringing but he’s far more focused on Jake.

              “How long have you had my number?”

              Jake freezes, looking caught out and Bradley can’t help the little spike of increased arousal. This gorgeous looking man has his phone number and has maybe had it for a long time. Maybe since they last worked together. Of all the things he’s come to comprehend in the last day or so, the realization that maybe Jake has been looking and wanting for a while, maybe even longer than he has, makes him feel more settled in his own feelings. He’s not alone in this, even if he didn’t think he was, this is pretty good confirmation. God. He really was missing the obvious. Natasha and Bob are never going to let him live this down.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

[brucewaynehater101]

adding to my last ask, the rest of the album is so similar to the Batfam

Loves like Ghosts - Batcat or BruTalia

Until the Night Turns - Dick (the vibes esp)

Dead Man’s Hand - Jason

-> pretty obvious why 💀. I see it as Jason talking abt his old self with the “tired of a life that never felt like his” line

Hurricane (Johnnie’s theme) - Dick, Jason, and Steph(Cass)

-> I mostly saw it as Stephcass but there were definitely lyrics that applied to Dick (thrill) and Jason (dying lol)

La Bella Fleur Sauvage - DickBabs

The World Ender - Steph (with the romantic lines being shaded between Cass and Gotham) or Jason (with the romantic lines being completely abour Gotham)

-> I feel like it fits Jason better bc it’s literlaky abour being back from the grave but alas

Meet Me in the Woods - Tim(Bern)

The Yawning Grave - ALFRED AND BRUCE ALFRESH AND BRUCE. This is so important to me omg

Cursed - where “she” is Gotham and the speaker is any of the Batfam (sans Cass I think)

Way out There - Damian (“I’m just wearing old bones from those who came first”) (“you” being Dick) or StephCass from Cass’s pov

The Night We Met - the BatSiblings (sans Duke bc he wasn’t adopted yet) during Bruce’s death

There weren’t any I could connect to Duke specifically but yeah 😞

Loves Like Ghost definitely gives of Talia to Bruce vibes. The lyrics of "what ain't living can never really die. You don't want me baby please don't lie. Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why." "And if I can't have you then no one ever will." "Baby in my eyes you do no wrong. I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes. So go on baby hurt me tonight."

Until the Night Turns is a cool song. Perhaps you would elaborate more on why you think it fits Dick? The vibes are pretty on, but jot too sure about the lyrics.

Dead Man's Hand does fit Jason. "Sure as hell he was dead as they come and he was already starting to smell. Just a kid with his hair slicked back and a knife tucked into his belt. Was he unforgiven or just tired of living a life that never felt like his?" "I know I'm dead but I don't wanna lie in a grave out here where the coyote's cry. I stared right into the endless void and I ain't going back if I got any choice. I know how to live, I don't know how to die and there ain't no thrills in the afterlife."

Hurricane. I do think that all of the batkids are adrenaline junkies but I do see how the lyrics fit those ones especially.

La Bella Fleur Savage - Google says Fleur means both flower and resilience. I can see how that fits Babs and how the song resembles her love with Dick.

The World Ender - I love this song for Steph. She deserves to get her revenge. She did kind of die with Black Mask, but she didn't really do a revenge thing like Jason. On the other hand she "won't ever feel the embrace of the grave" because she revived before being buried.

Meet Me in the Woods - I see how this is TimBern especially because Bernard isn't in the vigilante business (so he won't really understand what Tim's been through).

The Yawning Grave - Alfred warning Bruce not to become Batman, of its dangers, of the likelihood of him dying, fits so well. He told him when he was a kid, but Bruce still went down with this path

Cursed - I agree that Cass isn't tied to Gotham like the others. If "she" was Gotham, that does fit the others. I raise you, though. What if "she" was their mission or vigilantism? That then fits all of them.

Way out There - Oof. That definitely fits Damian and I love that analysis of him.

The Night We Met - I agree, however, there's a tik tok that has an animation of this song. It absolutely kills my soul every time I see it. It has Bruce singing this about Jason: "I had all," Jason as Robin, "and then most of you," Jason dying, "some and," Jason's grave, "now none of you," Jason as Red Hood. "Take me back to the night we met." The tire jacking night.

We definitely need some Duke songs out there. If anyone has any songs that fit Duke, feel free to comment or reblog with them!!!!

#dc comics #dc universe #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cass wayne #steph brown #barbara gordon #thank you for the ask!!!!

[fierceawakening]

I feel a bit afraid to even post this, for fear of someone else lashing out at me for questioning received wisdom but I still kind of feel like people are so invested in explaining their point of view (which I’m already saying is valid) that they’re missing part of mine

And that is that for me, part of my trauma is that I was both physically violated AND physically altered. And also I’m afab, and very often girls and women bear the brunt of purity culture in ways men and boys… definitely can but I’m not sure they always do.

And what purity culture says to little girls is that their worth is in their… well purity. Their innocence. That’s what’s beautiful and lovable about them.

So what happened to me… at least as I experienced it, I felt it stole my innocence. Destroyed my purity. I was still a virgin, but I’d kept a tight lid on any interest in anything dark or sinister or anything like that (and it turned out there was a lot to keep a lid on.)

After my trauma I was so angry and disillusioned I couldn’t do that any more. I got angry. I got cynical. I got bitter.

Which is all understandable. But here’s the kicker: I felt bad about it. Like a monster. Damaged and broken.

I kept getting diagnoses of situational depression. I’d get talk therapy until I felt a little better and then it would end and I’d need it again, later, like clockwork. It didn’t dawn on me that this indicated a chronic problem, not clearly enough for me to say “let’s look at diagnoses that include recurrence.”

In grad school, I read the book Trauma and Recovery which is an in depth look at PTSD, mostly as suffered by women who were raped or sexually abused.

In it, the women described my deep feelings of having been defiled so well it was eerie. They talked about feeling like there was dirt or oil or mud or sludge way down in their soul, where they couldn’t remove it.

That it made them fundamentally unclean in ways other people weren’t. Dirtied deep down, in ways that would forever separate them from other people who hadn’t been polluted.

Which is how I felt and still feel when things get bad, and what makes me feel suicidal. I can never be clean again, so I’m fundamentally unworthy, so I need to die and get it over with already.

Trying to frame it as that I’m still clean, or that the dirty one is the perpetrator(s), may work for other people, and I wish them the best. But trying to reframe it that way has never worked for me personally. As I said my body is literally altered surgically. I can’t avoid that something changed.

So what has worked to help me feel less like I don’t deserve to live?

Seeing the new thing that was created as worthwhile rather than poisoned.

Because of that, I get a lot of reassurance out of monster stories, especially ones where the monster isn’t fundamentally evil, just threatened and lashing out, or confused, or a child that doesn’t know its own strength or the like.

Which overlaps A LOT with “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

It’s not quite the same but it’s a cousin concept, a sibling. “You tried to kill me. You really should have finished the job.”

So when I see people say “don’t tell me I’m stronger now, I get to be the judge of that thank you very much,” that version I get.

But when I see “the idea that I’m stronger now is bullshit, all I did was break,” that one twigs me.

Because it pulls me back to the broken doll oozing ichor. Nothing new came out of this. Nothing brave. That’s just a demon trying to justify continuing to exist, when deep down it knows all it is is pollution.

I make these posts not to tell people that they need to see themselves as stronger. I don’t know how they should heal. They know that.

I make them to remind people that there are a lot of different ways to reconstruct a self, and that it’s easy to overstep if you generalize too much.

[stephaniebrownslover]

Guys I have an idea.

What if I made Jeff The Killer like BoJack Horseman???

Guys don't leave please guysssssss it's so dark hereeeee

Okay now that I think about it, I'll ramble about this a bit.

Either I'm on to something or on something.

Also BH characters as creepypasta characters random BoJack Horseman dialogues as Jeff under the line and how other pastas would react.

And the only Jeff portrait I like is @jeffthekillerzblog 's Jeff because he's like a real life :3

THEIR FIRST TWO LETTER IS SAME THEY'RE THE SAME

...

GUYSSSSSSS TOBY AS TODD JUST IMAGINE

Lol just kidding but I think Toby and Todd would actually get along. Like they would just chill around and build random shit and talk about nonsense stuff. Their silly goofy traits are kinda similar so they would understand each other most of the time. Great minds think alike.

Okay okay let's talk about Jeff Horseman stuff before drifting away the topic.

First of, I think BoJack Horseman is not a character do defend. Yes, he tries to fix his mistakes but it was too late for him. He needed to change before all the shit happened. He needed to go to rehab or therapy before.

I'm not saying it's all his fault but just look at Diane. She had her own trauma and even though she was feeling bad most of the time, she wanted to get better. She worked for it in time instead of BoJack.

Yes, BoJack is a traumatized character but Todd was right about "You can't keep doing shitty thing and then feel bad about it!" because BoJack did this always.

Now back to Jeff. He has a similar trait with BoJack. I think Jeff has BPD most likely and he has serious anger issues. That's not a good mix as you can guess. It causes him to make mistakes and hurt people he actually gives a shit about and even though this makes him feel bad later, he won't do anything about it.

He wants to change, he wants to apologize from Jane and Nina and Liu. He wants to be a better person. He hates this life he build but he's been in this hell so long that he doesn't know a way out. He thinks it's too late for him and for treatment after all the people he killed and hurt.

Just like BoJack but in a different way.

BoJack hurts people close to him mentally and Jeff hurts people close to him both mentally and physically.

They both doesn't want to live their life and they would rather be like anyone else does.

They would hate each other if they met because they would see the other as a mirror. Or something like they could be in an another universe. And this would scare them as hell.

Jeff might be a surface character but I think that's because of his creator portrays him. I have like/hate relationship with him because of how badly he portrayed in almost every work.

He was not a pure evil monster, he was a 13 year old kid with untreated mental issues and body trauma. And no one was there to teach him this was not right since this motherfucker is very stubborn and he killed everyone who could.

Both of them doesn't want to die no matter how shitty their life can became. They want to live. They want to see the next day even though they would hate it. They think they deserve to live after all the things they had gone through.

They want to believe that they have a chance for redemption without caring about their past mistakes.

Also if Jeff would be an animal, he thinks he would be a wolf but he'd actually be a horse. That's like his spirit animal.

Take random BoJack dialogues as Jeff and other pastas' reactions to that.

...

Jeff: Rehab was supposed to be a fresh start. But no matter how many starts I get, there's always the same ending. Everything falls apart, and I end up alone.

Clockwork: Then get a new life man, this shit is not that hard.

Jeff: Shut up bitch! I'm having a moment here!

...

Jeff: Same thing that always happens. You didn't know me. Then you fell in love with me. And now you know me.

Nina: Eat shit and die asshole. You ruined my life.

Jeff: Fucking let me apologize whore!

Nina: Okay. I'm gonna kill this bastard. Don't hold me!

Kate: No one's holding you.

Nina: I said don't hold me!

...

Jeff: I'm the one who has suffered the most because of the actions of Jeffrey Woods.

Jane: What about Liu or Nina or even me?

Jeff: Nah, Liu's fine and he hates you.

Liu: No, I don't.

Jeff: He doesn't know what he's saying. And Nina loooves me.

Nina: No I don't!

Jeff: She's high on my awesomeness.

Jane: Shup the fuck up you dumbass.

...

Jeff: There's gonna be plenty of people around when I kill myself!

Masky: Not me.

Hoodie: Nah, I'll be there to celebrate.

Jeff: I hate all of you.

...

Jeff: Really makes you think, though, huh? Life, right? Goes by, stuff happens. Then you die.

Toby: W-who the hell are you?

Jeff: Yeah, you're right.

Toby: I am?

Jeff: Nah.

Toby: Of cour-se I am.

Who wants part 2 for incorrect quotes??

#jeff woods #jeff the killer #bojack horseman #creepypasta meme #jeff horseman #rehab was supposed to be a fresh start #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #creepy #random #incorrect quotes #creepypasta clockwork #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby #nina the killer #kate the chaser #jane the killer #masky creepypasta #hoodie creepypasta

[wheels-of-despair]

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You and Ralph rest and have a little reunion! Words: 1.7k

"Oi!"

You wake with a jolt, panicked by the shout in your ear, and instinctively cover Ralph's body with your own. It's bright. Someone has removed the blanket that should be covering your heads.

"Easy, dearie, just making sure you're still alive." You look up, into the concerned eyes of a blonde woman. "How about your fella?"

You ease your body off of him and look down.

Why didn't that wake him? She shouted at you. You'd half-jumped on top of him. How deeply can one man sleep?

"Ralph?" you ask, giving his shoulder a nudge. He doesn't rouse. "Come on, Ralph." You touch the side of his face. Why he still so cold?

"Oh, my stars…" the woman whispers.

"Ralph!" you cry out, shaking his shoulder.

He groans and opens his eyes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"S'wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," you smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes. "Nothing at at all." You lean forward to kiss his temple, and he nuzzles his cold nose into your neck. You wrap an arm around him to keep him close.

"Have you eaten since you arrived?" the woman asks. She's perched on one of the chairs you've been hiding behind. You notice now that she's wearing a stewardess uniform.

"No," you answer.

"You stay right there," she instructs as she rises from her chair, as if you had the strength to go anywhere.

"Who's that?" Ralph asks.

"A stewardess," you answer. "Just checking on us."

"I'm so tired," he whines.

"I know, darling," you sigh.

"My head."

"I know, darling," you repeat. Yours is throbbing as well. Your throat is raw. You ache all over. You place a gentle kiss to his temple. If that would transfer all his suffering to you, you'd take it willingly.

"What's the time?"

"I… don't know." You lift your head a bit and squint into the bright lights of the room, looking for a window that'll tell you if it's night or day, but you can't see one. You let your head fall back to your coat, which is serving as a makeshift pillow.

"Here we are, my dears," the stewardess announces. She sets a tray on a nearby table. "It'll be much easier to eat your soup if you can sit up for me."

You and Ralph drag yourselves off the floor and lean your backs against the wall. The pain worsens when you sit. Your head is pounding. Every bone in your body aches.

"There we are," she smiles. She hands you each a bowl of soup with a spoon in it. "That'll warm you right up. Might even give you enough strength to get to a real bed."

"Thank you," you mumble. Ralph echoes your sentiments, and you both take your first spoonful of soup. It's heavenly.

"My name is Anna," the stewardess smiles. "Might I ask your names?"

You tell her, and she writes it down on a pad you hadn't noticed. She sees your eyes on it, and smiles.

"Lots of people looking for loved ones. We have hundreds of survivors on board, and everyone's all scattered. If someone asks for you, I have faces now. Are you looking for anyone?"

You give her Molly and Victoria's names, and she writes those down too.

"Would you like me to try and find you a room? Some of our passengers have given up their own cabins, hoping to make you poor dears more comfortable."

You look over at Ralph, struggling to lift his spoon, and shake your aching head.

"Here is fine," you tell her.

"That's perfectly alright," she smiles. "Eat your soup, I'll be back shortly."

When she leaves, you drop your spoon and drink your soup in a way that would make your mother die of embarrassment.

"Let me, love," you say as you reach for Ralph's soup. You set his spoon aside and hold his bowl to his mouth, letting him drink as you had. When the soup is gone, you dab at his cracked lips with your handkerchief.

It's the same one you'd used to draw him to his door. How many days ago had that been? It feels like a lifetime ago.

You tuck it back into your pocket with a sad smile, remembering how happy you both were that day.

"Would you like me to take those away?" You return your empty bowls to Anna with a quiet word of thanks. "If you need anything at all, just ask for Anna. Alright?"

You nod, but as she rises, a thought occurs to you.

"Wait," you call. She turns. "What day is it?"

"Today is Tuesday, April 16th, 1912. The time is," she consults a clock somewhere to her left, "7:16 am."

"Thank you," you whisper, ready to fall back on the floor and sleep for another few hours.

And that's exactly what you do. You and Ralph resume your positions on your makeshift bed, holding each other tight with blankets pulled over your heads, and fall back asleep… but a little warmer this time, thanks to the soup.

When you wake up again, you're a little less groggy. You take in your surroundings. A plaid blanket over your head, light streaming through a hole in the fabric. Your coat as a pillow. A pair of brown eyes staring into yours.

"Good… do you think it's morning or night?" you ask quietly.

"I don't know," Ralph whispers.

"Are you alright?"

Ralph's eyes fill with worry. He doesn't answer. You slide a little closer and take his hand in yours, giving his knuckles a kiss.

"We're alive, and we're together. I don't think we could ask for much more right now."

Ralph nods once in agreement.

"I think I need to get off of this floor, though," you groan, flipping onto your back and attempting to stretch. The blanket falls off of your face, and you squint at the light. At least your headache has lessened.

You and Ralph help each other off the floor. You stand stiffly and gaze out at the room. The stewardess from last night spots you and rushes over.

"Good afternoon!" she chirps.

"Is it afternoon?" you ask.

"It is 1:43 on the the afternoon of April 16th, 1912, and you are just in time for lunch. There are lavatories just down that hallway," she gestures to a door, "if you'd like to freshen up first."

You follow her instructions, briefly parting with Ralph to witness the horror of your reflection in the mirror. You do what you can, and return to the lounge feeling slightly more human. You sit at a table and eat quietly, hoping that your bread and soup gives you enough strength to stay awake for more than an hour.

"There you are!"

Before you can even look up, a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. Molly. It's Aunt Molly.

She pulls up a chair and sits with you and Ralph.

"I've been looking all over for you! Where have you two been?"

"Right here," you say weakly. "Sleeping."

"Keep eating, you need your strength. Are you alright?"

"Considering…" you trail off, having a vague memory of a doctor checking you and Ralph for frostbite sometime during the night. He's doing much better with his spoon now, you note proudly.

"Ralph, I saw your sister yesterday, but I don't know where she got off to."

"Oh," he says between bites.

You remember what she said to him that night at the lifeboats, and your blood begins to boil.

"Look at you, getting some color back in your cheeks already," Molly smiles, reaching out to pinch one in a way she knows you hate. "When you're feeling up to it, I'd like you to come to my room."

"Your room?" you question.

"They've moved some of the first-class passengers into cabins. I'm sharing one with Hettie - one of the gals I met in the Turkish baths. We can double up and make room for you. It's little, compared to the last one, but you're sure to be more comfortable in there than in here."

You look to Ralph. His eyes meet yours nervously.

"I'd rather stay here with Ralph."

You reach for his hand under the table and give it a squeeze, hoping he knows that you're never letting him go. Not now, not ever.

"Ralph's invited too, sweetheart," she says gently.

A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. Yours matches.

"It's settled, then," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Eat up, then we'll get you to a real bed."

A real bed? Your back spasms at the thought.

You finish your soup, gather your coats and blankets, and follow Molly to a small cabin.

"Hettie and I can share this one, if you're alright here?"

It's a tiny bed, meant for a servant or traveling companion. Just like the one you'd occupied on Titanic.

"I know it'll be tight, but it has to be better than sleeping on the floor in a room with a hundred other people."

"It's wonderful, Molly, thank you," you say gratefully. Ralph nods in agreement. You want desperately to fall into bed and stay there the rest of the day… but shouldn't you go find his sister? See if she cares that he's alive?

"I'm gonna go see what I can do to help, but why don't you two get settled in? Rest a little more? I'll let you know when it's dinnertime."

You nod, unable to argue with the suggestion of more sleep. Aunt Molly exits the room, leaving you alone with Ralph.

"How does she have so much energy?" he asks, blinking slowly.

"Not a clue," you yawn. "Bed?"

"Bed," Ralph confirms.

You ditch your shoes and a few layers of clothing and crawl into the tiny bed. You have to lie on your sides in order to fit. Ralph pulls the covers over your heads, just like you'd done in the lounge, and you drift off with a satisfied sigh.

#writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

[super-paper]

is this too soon.

#mha spoilers #spoilers #it needs to be stressed that I don't think he's dead or going to die but that doesn't mean i'm not gonna have fun with toshibomb #my thoughts rn is that this is a set up for Toshi to gain access to the OFAFO vestige realm through a temporary death #Like... I kinda feel like he needs to hear NANA telling him to live because she and gran torino both enabled a lot of his issues #and he also needs to be there for Izuku's "I am here moment'' which I've always expected was gonna be in the vestige realm-- #--as a deeply personal/private moment between Tenko and Izuku rather than a bold announcement to the world #we shall see! #yagi toshinori #my hero academia #dank mha meems #god melissa would be fucking devastated though. like bro she built that to protect you. she's watching this on live stream. 😭

[pinacoladamatata]

"if you fancy Astarion, you might want to consider therapy. He's so damaged I must have him! Enjoy the fantasy and then call a therapist. It's a two step thing and it's very important you do both." - Amelia Tyler what do your narrator eyes see? 😂😂😂

#ohohooooohoo the little random tidbits devs and voice actors have dropped about his companion arc is making me NERVOUS #just throwin out some meta thoughts here #in order for astarion to *get rid of* the tadpole; cazador *has* to die first. like i'll bet my left tit this is conditional #since cazzy is apparently a control freak he might be enemies w the mindflayers/absolute cult bc ''bleh bleh my city'' #i think its entirely possible that we could ally w cazador against the absolute; this would like have to result in astarion attacking tav #im just worried it might be like; you have to at least temporarily side w the absolute if you kill cazzy? #idk! idk! #and like i do think there will probably be a 3rd option of like 'i hate both these groups kill them both' but man. #and then there's whatever is going on w his ''this soul is not for sale except in the realm of the undead'' stamp #like are we gonna have to go the there? wherever the fuck that is? #pls amelia i am begging on my knees i need a sign! of hope! #bc now the hug and hand holding in the trailer is making me think larian is trying to trick me into believing he'll be okay #only to hit me with a devastating ending(s) no matter what #idk. man. i read astarion's writer was fanes writer. idk dos2 but like i am aware of what......happened w that 'romance' #pls i need a sign larian #i am so sick of the bioware style romances! the morrigans! the solases ! the unresolved endings of it all! ENOUGH #i want closure from this i am begging #for once in my life i just want closure for a video game romance ending #i JUST THINK LIKE ideally. for me. he'd have at least 1 ending where he's not cured but lives happily ever after* #i am having a hard time picturing him cured of vampirism. tbh. but if it's possible without him immediately dying then. well hats off #its 2 AM here i need to knock it tf off and go to bed #........unless.....yall want to enable me and discuss this further #i am 1 more bad day away from writing a thesis on this in MLA format istg

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Honestly though, this (what Ashe is pointing out) is exactly why I don't think GW could possibly end well. There's no "talking it over" after all the bloodshed (especially bloodshed started by them, and especially bloodshed started by them that didn't have to happen).

The way the narration leaves it "open" too at the end of GW just comes across as "it failed". It feels like... a kind of pointless story?

And I know some people might think that since Dimitri personally isn't as deeply affected by losing Matthias and so might be willing, that's still no good if his people and closest allies aren't. Rodrigue and Sylvain wouldn't be so forgiving, and I do think Dimitri would follow suit because that's his father (Rodrigue)'s closest friend and one of his own closest friends' father.

Add that to the fact that they have Sreng to deal with still (and I imagine sooner or Sylvain would figure out that Leicester had a hand in provoking Sreng to attack Faerghus) on top of losing Matthias and I imagine all the stress and aggravation wouldn't bode well for Leicester as far as Claude's thinking of things working out goes.

I just really can't see where GW goes afterward that would be "good" or works in Claude's favor at all. Maybe that was the intention and it was meant to be a route with a completely tragic ending, but apparently there are players who think it would end well and whatnot and I just can't see that happening (both from Faerghus' end and from Adrestia's end, the latter of which Claude discussed within GW itself).

If their intention was for a totally tragic ending, like yeah, I can see that... but as always the writing muddies the waters to make it sound good while something bad is happening. It keeps trying to have a positive spin on bad things as if they're just afraid to commit to a fully bad ending.

#DCB Three Hopes Run #also to be specific the reason I just call Rodrigue his father outright is bc he refers to him as a “second father” in Houses #but I'm not gonna literally write “his second father” every time I mention it and honestly “adoptive father” doesn't work for me either #bc him being an adoptive sort of parent doesn't make the fact that he /is/ a parent to him any less valid #like a parent is a parent and I don't feel the need to point that out and the feeling is mutual between them #if Rodrigue is literally calling him ''my boy'' it's a pretty cut and dry parent/child relationship #obviously I'm using Houses context in this case but it's still accurate in Hopes #and I just can't see losing Matthias going over smoothly at all and things getting better with time #I mean Matthias is such a major player in Faerghus and so important that I just can't see them being like #well it was only /one/ important bigwig who died. like no it was one important bigwig saving a whole lot of lives #who is also very intelligent and has a deep say in politics. that's ofc not counting #as Ashe says here in AM in reference to Adrestia that they've killed so much on both sides bc of the war #that he can't imagine just sitting and talking now. just because we as players only saw one named character die #and just because that character wasn't a playable character nor a returning character we already knew and loved #doesn't mean hundreds if not thousands more didn't die in Leicester's invasion #like Ashe says here I just don't see how both sides could sit and talk after all that #esp since Sylvain would prob be involved and uh... Sylvain is... a very emotional and angry person #and extremely vengeful (and they rly leaned into that side of him in Hopes in all routes) #I canNOT imagine talks with him involved not getting heated and aggressive #and he'd /have/ to be there bc he's the Margrave now in GW. if they want to have important talks like that #they need all their major players which like even if Felix say wasn't there #Rodrigue has basically equal authority as Felix bc Rodrigue has the respect of experience and has proven himself #so they could be swapped out for talks and Felix being the ''official'' Duke wouldn't affect talks in the least #if Rodrigue was/had to be present instead. with Sylvain you've either got no other options #or you've got Miklan who I can't imagine would want to even get involved with all of that #both bc of his mixed feelings on Matthias but also bc he's been out of the political atmosphere for so long #so yeah I uh... can't... see talks ever going well unless Claude legitimately makes amends somehow #or Houses Claude gets in there smacks him around and fixes some shit before heading back to his own verse lol

[mihotose]

The IT Crowd Manual

#i love the range of answers here. richard saying moss would just continue forever without change quite happily while katherine's like #no jen needs to leave. matt's just like yeah ive thought about exactly how douglas will die #and chris' cute domestic headcanon of moss and roy living together in douglas' house ??? #its so true that roy and jen would get married and divorced tho #theyre both unlucky in love and eventually theyd be like 'you know what do you want to get married' 'yeah why not' #then they get divorced the year after #the it crowd #chi gifs

[faebriel]

hgs brainrot has returned due to tbosas .. speaking of hgs here’s an ask abt the hgs au: if things were totally different, and Wilbur were to be a 12 victor, what do you think a possible mentor-tribute dynamic would look like between him & Niki? I feel like it would be similar to Snow & Lucy in the way that he’s just going out of his way to cheat n help her

anon u have in fact struck jackpot because this is a concept i was spinning some thoughts abt before bee mentioned avoxes and we went OOOOH at that!!! so yes i have considered rainduo as a mentor-tribute dynamic and would love to talk about that concept too :]

so for this concept i think wilbur and niki would be close friends throughout childhood from 12, and then in their teens wilbur is reaped and, well, no one has particularly high hopes (he's a writer and a musician at heart, not a fighter) but through sheer trickery and dumb luck, he makes it to the end of the games. wilbur pulled some pretty fucked up tricks to win - when you can't use brute force, you have to use your brain - and partly due to the trauma of the games, partly due to his shame and survivor's guilt, he sinks into the capitol and relishes a new life there as a socialite. to him, the old wilbur died in the games and the new one has taken his place - to niki, and to his other friends in 12, whatever the games did to him made him into every vapid heartless capitol victor there is.

or. niki has her doubts. they all saw how horrible the games were, but surely there is some part of him left, some part that's hurting, even if it's buried deep?

anyway.

like og spin of the au, niki is reaped and this sucks - this time she does expect wilbur as her mentor on the train, and she expects some kind of warm welcome (maybe even an apology for leaving them so suddenly and silently? an explanation?) but she gets jack shit. wilbur is jaded and cruel and unrecognisable and niki entirely hates it. this is the part where i REALLY WISH we got some time of those two beefing with each other directly in canon (or at least interactions while niki was So Mad at him) but it's okay we fly blind. niki feels abandoned, lonely, thrown off of her kilter - she expected an ally in this place, but she doesn't recognise the person wilbur has become. she doesn't recognise his shallowness (...much), his ruthless advice for the arena, the way he doesn't seem to care for anything. she's scared and now she's lonely and it pisses her off - their mentorship is fraught. here are some thoughts from discord on that:

i tend to think of niki as a bit naïve before l'manberg or even doomsday - i think this is an au where this streak would come out real strong, and niki is stubborn that she can get through the games without losing herself. stubborn that she can stop things, that she can protect people. i don't think wilbur is cold enough (or, really, can bear to say aloud) to say that her odds in the arena are slim enough as it is, but he definitely tells her that she's making enemies and that her odds of survival dwindle with the more trouble she causes.

beyond that... hm. niki's trust in wilbur is almost unshakeable until nov 16, even when she outright says she doesn't recognise him anymore. i think she'd reluctantly listen re: don't burn down any buildings, but she would grow bolder each day she had to stay in the capitol. she gets more honest in front of the cameras. she makes more friends in training, and not the ones wilbur recommends. she throws barbs at him every time he makes one of those callous, cold-hearted comments about other tributes and rankings and odds. and besides, she's going in the arena this time, not him. she needs to practice her bravery.

it's like... she hasn't given up on him. she thinks the old wilbur is in there somewhere. (she is wrong. that is not how trauma works.) but she won't hold her tongue just because she

for extra angst points could definitely play up the whole 'feeling abandoned' angle between them as niki goes into the arena - probably due to how fraught their friendship gets leading up to the games. niki wants to focus on them and their friendship, wilbur has stringently cut off (almost) everything from 12 and refuses to let her in; he tells her to behave for the cameras, she tells him she never will. i think the last point in that screenshot would also make for a super tasty argument where niki feels wilbur has gone astray, that he's abandoned 12, and that he'll probably do nothing but sit on his ass and watch her die and he can't even bring himself to care about her anymore, can he? just more fodder for the arena. and honestly, i think wilbur would passively agree with most of that - he values niki's opinion, after all, even now, and if she says he's rapidly descending into a lost cause then she must be right. and it's niki, so she will be fine, and he goes to his bedroom that night and tries to pretend he is sleeping perfectly fine instead of feeling paralysed with fear.

okay now onto the games - YES HE SO WOULD. or at least i think he would go out of his way to help. as for cheating - he's a recent victor for 12 and i think he would value tommy (no doubt a link to him... i think they'd be in touch in this au also) too much to risk the punishment falling onto him as well. i get the vibes this is a games closer to 74th than 10th, so there are far fewer opportunities to cheat and the consequences of getting caught are higher. but schmoozing up sponsors? making stupid ass radio interviews or whatever to talk up niki's odds? sharing anecdotes from their childhood - some real, some entirely fabricated - across capitol airwaves to stoke their sympathy? 100%. with less to lose in this au, i think niki would be far less inclined to play nice for the cameras - i hope you starve, she spits at one of them, and wilbur appears on a talkshow two days later as she scrambles for survival in the arena to talk up how she always saved loaves from the bakery for the poorest mothers and children in 12. he borrows and begs and swindles to the point where it feels like cheating. but hey, this new wilbur is capitol-branded. he knows how to play the game.

if anything he probably sinks into the game a little too much. self-preservation is not his forte. probably wracks up a few heavy debts and favours to owe, but those are not priority until niki is out of the arena, alive. as long as she wins, and as long as the family he has isn't in danger, he will manage. wow it would suck if at some point those two goals became impossible to co-achieve. anyway

i kind of see niki's victory in the arena being similar to the one in the main au - if only because planning out an entire games is hard for meee >-< . she walks in bolder and braver for sure, and with a less strategic pick of allies, but they all get picked off and she spends a few weeks so terrified she can barely sleep and then she ruptures some fuel line and sets the arena alight with a fire that burns brighter and more ravenously than it should. but she wins, and she's airlifted out of a filthy, muddy creek she had resigned herself to die in, and wilbur barges his way through as many peacekeepers so that he can actually see her with her burnt skin and hair and unfocused eyes and trust that what was on the screens wasn't a fluke, and that they made it. and then it's just a matter of surviving the after.

i'm sure there are some other random quirks or tidbits i can think of re: this take on a c!rainduo hunger games au but these are my base thoughts!!

#can i just say whatever the hell lucy grey n snow had going on in part 1 made me so berko btw. like congrats ur my means to an end youre my #symbol youre my buddy? should we kiss? i'll get you out of here / don't make me leave these people behind #BRIDGING OFF OF THE TBOSAS DISCUSSION. i think the thing with crainduo (or at least how i like to depict them) is that they care about each #other extremely deeply and value each other... without being each others number one priority at all times. #i don't think niki plays priority with people she cares for like that; see her relationships with like wilbur and eret in lmanberg #even her friendship with and offering ponk a place to stay in her city after manberg even tho manberg hurt her #as for wilbur: his priority is tommy. like always. if it was just him on the line he'd do anything to get niki thru but it's not #asks #hunger games au #they would truly be such a nightmare in this au like. wilbur's self loathing is SO HIGH due to survivors guilt and trauma and mental illnes #he thinks that niki is So Good and Has It Together meanwhile he is So Bad #and is a mess that she cannot possibly rely on him. she can't possibly need him. she can't possibly want him around #<- and this shit is INGRAINED like. it's not even an active thought pattern anymore it is carved into his brain like a groove #and so shes like. do you even care whether i live or die?? #of course he does. but this is the capitol. he cant be vulnerable in a way that matters #and that alienates niki further and this rage and heartbreak is building in her with nowhere to go. and in the arena she thinks it erupts #nah uh. i think its AFTER the area when she has to face wilbur again that she would go full screaming meltdown #ANYWAY !! i really like aus where they have this friction esp because i think like.. idk i think sometimes our views of rainduo are too ros #wilbur kind of forgets about niki sometimes because his self hatred is that bad. niki doesnt get wilburs mental illness and takes it both a #a burden/blame AND a direct rejection of her and her friendship #and they hover just outside of each others spaces anxious and angry and almost self flagellating. GOOD FOR THEM ! #anyway Yes this did unlock something within me. thanks anon feel free to add on if u had more thoughts esp re: tbosas and such bc i had suc #a good time watching that movie

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

U said prompts are ok too so maybe... Ingo falls into Hisui with at least 1 pokemon?

(still taking!)

(hmmm ok there is a very chandelure centric au i've been kicking around but idk if i can work it in a short thing. let's find out)

Chandelure are by no means native to Hisui, so nobody in the clans has see this specific kind of Pokémon before, but it doesn't really matter, ultimately. They know what that purple flame signifies, what kind of fuel it burns.

They're right, but their fear is also misplaced. Ingo knows this. It's not that the lantern has morals, exactly, but it's well trained—it knows how to siphon only a tiny bit of life, how to feed itself without killing others, it would only eat whole humans if it was desperate.

But he also knows that if it were starving, it wouldn't hesitate to use whatever was nearby. And, worse, he also knows—though he can't justify it to any level of conscience—that he would let it. For some reason, there is nothing as important to him as keeping the lantern lit. And if it fights too hard and its flame dips low, he feels it, as if it's him that's growing exhausted, but that isn't it. That's not enough of a reason. Whatever his connection to this lantern is—wherever he found it, why it follows him—he can't shake the feeling that if it ever goes out, something terrible would happen. Terrible enough that he would do just about anything to keep it burning.

And Hisui, he feels, is sparsely populated, such that it might struggle to find fuel, but fortunately they figure out a solution pretty quickly. It drinks the frenzy of alphas. It's easy—none of them come close to matching its strength.

(The Pearl Clan warms up to it pretty quickly after that.)

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #anonymous #swift writes #pokefic pitch #uh. the actual au idea. bc i guess i should clarify ghskjh #is that as a kid emmet came very close to dying so ingo (very desperate and also a child with very limited planning ability) #went out and got a litwick (line? i think litwick but it couldve been any of them) and fed it BOTH their souls. #with the contract being that instead of making them fuel it would make them the flame itself-with all the give/take that implies #so they live as long as the flame is burning- but what ingo is unconsciously remembering here #is that if chandelure runs out of fuel not only will HE die. but so will emmet. #anyway unrelated to all that i also think the idea of chandelure defrenzying alphas by Eating the frenzy is fun #and i wonder if that has any side effects! #litwick souls au #sorta. this was the original concept anyway