#Seriously though it's super triggering for everyone

[electric-friend]

i’ve got so many unfinished fics in my drive and maybe even one published one where someone calls stede strong and brave for maintaining his softness even when life pushes back.

recently i feel like stede made a choice ed and izzy have both made in the past that they’ve always wished they never did, and stede could have been spared from. at the very least i think it hurt ed to see the version of himself he hates in stede. he probably thinks stede wanted to become that man for reasons other than stede has been bullied his entire life for being inadequate and told a man a bit like blackbeard is a real man.

call me crazy or whatever but i actually think a major thing that should be communicated between ed and stede is something on stede’s end. his trauma and his feelings and his issues. as it stands now, i don’t think ed understands what’s going on with stede. i don’t think he understands the person stede really wants to be. i don’t think he understands stede’s own issues of self-doubt and stede’s insecurities. hell i don’t think ed even has that much of a grasp of how unpopular and disliked stede has always been his entire life. and i think maybe if stede explained himself better, ed would understand more of what was going on. that he wouldn’t be seeing stede as manifesting something he wants to escape from, he would see stede as someone he needs to help escape with him.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #edward teach #a hint of #steddyhands #but i’m not really going into it #idk if this makes much sense #it’s not super well laid out it’s just a chaotic bunch of prose im expressing myself through #obviously i feel like ed should maybe communicate more of his feelings to stede too #but i feel like everyone is focusing really hard on stede being a dick and needing to apologise #when what really needs to happen (though i doubt it will on screen) is they both need to articulate their feelings #so that they understand each other and stop getting caught up mis communicating #also listen. i don’t think stede did a good thing in that argument #but i do fundamentally believe that ed saying it was a mistake. no matter how much stede might also think that was true #probably genuinely seriously triggered stede and upset him a lot #they were both really hurt in that conversation #but i think that there’s this thing going on where stede has become a man that reminds ed of a part of himself he associates- #-with the version of himself he hates #and in a way that’s happening the other way around too #ed is soft. quiet. gentle. the crew doesn’t respect him #stede sees a version of himself he feels insecure about when he looks at ed now #and it’s fucking with them. #majorly. #i hope they talk but i know there’s not enough time in the show for them to talk the way i want them to

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny learns a few more words with practice.

Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.

…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.

They don’t even sound all that mean.

It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.

Firstly: horrible.

Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.

So. Uh. That’s…gross.

He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.

God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.

…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.

Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.

…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.

“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”

Anyway.

Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.

None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.

He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.

And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.

For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…

Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.

…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?

(It did, didn’t it?)

(…Didn’t it??)

His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.

It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.

Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.

He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.

...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.

He is sick. He has been sick.

The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.

He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.

And then he feels something weird.

Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.

There is something solid sticking out of him.

Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.

And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.

His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.

People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.

Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.

He doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.

They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.

He thinks he’s going to cry.

Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.

It’s the lady. He knows her.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.

She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?

She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.

“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”

She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.

Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.

But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.

“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.

But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.

There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,

Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.

When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.

Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.

They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.

It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.

The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.

Danny frowns.

The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.

The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.

Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.

The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.

And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.

Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.

Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.

The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.

Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.

She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.

“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.

The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.

It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.

#*hip checks through the door* hey losers! Guess who uses Arabic numbers!! Two earths!! #also if ANYONE is shitty about stoma bags or ostomy bags on this fic or in this chat I'm going to fight you. Lots of people have them. #they're usually a temporary procedure and even if they're not they're pretty normal and a lot of people have them. I knew at least one #like haha this is a body horror fic but ostomy bags are a REAL THING that people HAVE as part of their medical journey DO NOT be rude!! #So what we know of his injuries now: messed up legs. Messed up guts. Messed up chest. Is there more...? Who can say. 👀 #health and hybrids #dp x dc #dcu crossover #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #incarceration to elopement to healthcare pipeline #His healing is speeding up and his language is getting better! When can we get a Diana POV?? <- me to me

[scatteredskittless]

Hiii! If you’re up for it, would you write an Angel Dust x platonic fem reader fic who has PTSD from SA, and she has a really scary encounter with Val that triggers her and Angel is super comforting? Sorry it’s super specific 😅

Platonic fem! Reader x Angel Dust

A/n: Of course !! Also super specific requests are fun to write so don’t be afraid to request them :)) I hope this was okay (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Warnings: Mentions of SA, Mentions of porn, Sexual themes, Talk of PTSD, Valentino in general is a warning In of itself tbh

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst✔️ Smut❌

It was just like any other morning in the Hazbin Hotel, you woke up, got ready for the day ahead of you and then walked yourself down to the lobby to see all your friends.

You woke up a little later than everyone else did so when you got to the lobby, they seemed to be already doing one of Charlie’s little games. As per usual though with these games, no one was really paying attention to what was going on. Husk was too busy drinking, Niffty was running around and torturing bugs, Alastor was nowhere to be found and Angel Dust was on his phone.

He looked rather unimpressed as he scrolled through his phone, it vibrating every few seconds in his hand as he got notification after notification from none other than his boss, Valentino himself.

Once he got a call, he got up and took it. Charlie looking visibly upset once he had eventually told everyone he had to leave early for an “emergency shoot”

So you decided to be helpful and try to get Angel back to the hotel

“No, [name] seriously, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after him.” Vaggie said, attempting to encourage you not to go after Angel and you couldn’t quite understand why?

“Why? It’ll be fine! I’ll just pop in and pop out.” You said with a shrug, turning around and leaving the hotel before anyone could get another word in.

And so, you were off to Angels studio.

Once you got there, it didn’t take long for Angel to recognize your presence. His eyes widening and excusing himself from the set for a moment. Valentino didn’t exactly look too pleased by that, considering what happened last time.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?!” Angel Dust would whisper shout with a look of worry written all over his face as he approached you.

“I was just seeing if you were done… and if I could somehow convince your boss to let you off early if you weren’t?” You said back with an eyebrow raise, wondering what the big deal was.

He let out an incredulous titter, shaking his head no. “Toots, I’m not letting you anywhere near Val—”

Speak of the devil. Valentino cuts him off as he was now standing right in front of the two of them, not looking thrilled with your presence.

“And who might this be? Another one of your little friends, Angie?” Valentino would say condescendingly, making Angel glance away from him and at the ground beside him instead.

Another? What was up with everybody and not telling you things??

“Uhm.. I’m [name].” You introduced yourself as you glanced at the moth demon with a smile, a Cheshire worthy grin spreading across the demons face in return.

“Ahh sí? A beautiful name for para una mujer tan hermosa~” he said, taking your hand and licking up to your elbow, causing you to cringe slightly but you held it together for now…

Angel looked very uncomfortable, his eyes trained on you to makes sure nothing too crazy happened.

Of course, Valentino knew this.

“How would you like to watch? Maybe even join? Hm? I could make you a star muñeca..” He purred, raising a brow as he got uncomfortably close to you. This was starting to freak you out a little, as it would anybody. This guy was clearly a fucking creep.

You slowly shook your head no. “Nooo… thank you? Uh I can just sit and wait until he’s done.” You said, figuring it would be better to settle for that than to go further with this guy

“Perfect! From the top everybody!” He’d announce, turning his back to you and walking back to the set as he sat back down in his chair, making both you and Angel let out a sigh of relief as you both followed. You were a little shaken but you figured that was all the interaction you’d have with Angels boss for the day…

And oh, were you sorely mistaken. ⚠️ !! TW !! ⚠️

You sat down in an extra chair that Valentino had made his robot “Kitty” bring in for you to sit beside him on. you tried not to watch what Angel was doing on set as it felt weird to watch your friend suck some guys dick..

After a few minutes of scrolling on your phone, you felt a hand on your thigh.. slowly creeping upwards towards your skirt. Immediate warning bells went off in your head. Immediate flashbacks started happening.

You froze. Not knowing what to do but you knew damn well who was touching you. That fucker Valentino.

“What’s the matter, amor?” Valentino spoke with that shit eating grin on his face again, his head titling ever so slightly to the side as he glanced over at the feared expression on your face, pretending he had no idea what he was doing.

His hand slipped up to your panty line and that’s when you started to freak out, you stood up, looking quite startled. “Fuck off!” Was what came out of your mouth, causing an unamused expression to fall on Val’s face as he stood up again, practically towering over you…

That’s when Angel stepped in, immediately placing himself between you two, the porno he had been in the middle of shooting long forgotten.

“Val.” He said surprisingly firmly as he glared up at him before looking behind him at himself at you, and his expression softened as he sighed.

“Cmon, we’re goin’ home.” Angel said to you as he grabbed your hand with one of his, walking past Valentino.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going bitch? You’re not done recording for the day” Valentino spat, a furious expression on his face and his words laced with venom.

Angel didn’t reply, walking out the doors with you as quickly as possible. He knew damn well he’d probably get punishment for this tomorrow but he couldn’t let whatever the fuck was going on between you and his boss go on any longer.

The walk back to the hotel was silent, you still trying to process everything that had just happened to you and shaking like a leaf as you gripped onto Angels hand.

Once you got back to the hotel Angel was quick to check up on you now.

“Hey baby, you okay? I… I’m sorry you had to deal with that, deal with.. him.” He’d say, worry written all over his face.

That’s when you started to tear up, crying and wrapping your arms around him.

He’d sigh once more and place a hand on the top of your head, his lower set of arms wrapping around you as he shushed you.

“It’s alright, you’re safe now.. okay? I’m never gonna let anythin’ like that happen to ya again.” he promised soothingly, silently blaming himself for letting it happen in the first place. This could’ve been prevented.

After a while of Angel Dust cooing gentle words and letting you cry as he held you, you started to calm down, sobs turning to sniffles as he rubbed the top of your head.

“There.. better?” He asked softly as he looked down at you, giving you a smile when you met his gaze, your makeup running if you had any of it on and your cheeks tear stained, pleased when he got a little nod from you.

“Good. Now we should probably actually go inside the hotel because I’m sure we look stupid just standing out here.” He quipped, earning a soft chuckle from you as you released him from your hug, giving another nod.

So that’s what you did, the both of you went inside the hotel and you settled yourselves in his room for the night as you had a little movie marathon, Fat Nuggets joining in with you two <3

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

#hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust x fem reader #platonic #x reader #hazbin hotel comfort #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel angst

[spinningwebsandtales]

Seeing The DMC Guys Devil Triggering For The First Time Headcanons

Dante X FemReader

Honestly it scared you at first

Was this seriously the same man that you had come to adore?

You were used to seeing him so carefree and you couldn’t deny...goofy. So it was just too big of a shock to see him differently than in the form you were used to. His human half the part he wanted everyone to see him as.

Though once you saw how your terrified reaction struck him and the sadness that came upon his transformed face you hurriedly comforted him.

Dante had accepted everything about you and your deepest darkest secrets. It was only fair to accept this half of him.

It didn’t take you long to become comfortable with his DT form and after awhile you could see features of his human form in his demonic side.

Plus he’s SUPER warm in his DT form.

Like he’s warm normally but think furnace when he transforms. 

Like grab the oven mitts just to touch him. Though he can control if he burns you or not.

So if he gets cuddly in DT form you will not be singed or burned to a crisp.

After the first time you kinda started expecting it and could tell when he was going to trigger. It became much easier to fight together as well as you learned his habits. 

You also helped Dante build his confidence in the Sparda blood in his veins as he struggled accepting who he is. You were proud of him and just because he isn’t fully human didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to offer towards you.

Dante is your everything in life and you his. And him looking different from time to time wasn’t going to change things.

Vergil X FemReader

Vergil’s transformation honestly didn’t surprise you

He’s not exactly subtle about his demonic half.

So for the first time, while you weren’t surprised, you couldn’t deny that he was a little scarier in DT form.

It seemed like he could lose himself to the demon at any point if he so wished.

That being said you weren’t scared of him. Especially when you got used to his transforming.

Vergil has been through so much throughout his life and you couldn’t let this one thing keep you from staying by his side.

Vergil feels like everyone he has ever known and loved has abandoned him and you weren’t going to make him feel that way.

In DT form he is more animalistic so while urges he can normally control in human form become a lot harder to control.

So you aren’t shocked when he becomes more touchy feely. It does give you the confidence that he actually does have feelings for you. Though you don’t tease him about it.

He’ll deny it or get angry if you do.

Though you can’t help it sometimes he’s just fun to get a rise out of. 

So yes first time not shocked at seeing his demonic half but you never get bored seeing him transform.

Nero X FemReader

You were completely and totally in awe the first time you saw Nero DT.

Unlike Dante and Vergil’s DT forms, Nero’s is more humanoid in looks.

You weren’t scared or nervous cause you just know Nero would never hurt you.

No, your first thought was wanting to touch that hair. Cause it was completely unfair that he have better hair than you.

He snorted when you told him that too but pulled you into a hug nonetheless.

Nero wasn’t shocked that you weren’t afraid of him. If it’s one thing he builds in relationships it’s trust and understanding.

You didn’t like secrets so he never kept his demon part hidden from you.

You weren’t ashamed of his hand or his powers so there was no way you were ashamed when you found out that he can transform.

You actually thought it was cool and told him so.

He blushed.

You acted like you didn’t notice. It would embarrass him.

Dante was proud when he found out that Nero finally told you and made sure you knew he could transform as well.

Though you love Uncle Dante his DT form wasn’t near as attractive as Nero’s.

When you told Nero that you could have sworn the next time he DT’d he was preening. Though he wouldn’t tell Dante what you said, the dork wouldn’t leave you alone or stop teasing Nero until he tried to kill said uncle.

It was like a party trick sort of when he would DT out of the blue just to entertain you. It was definitely something that became the normal and you were glad that he felt so comfortable in his second form around you.

#Dante X Reader #Dante / Reader #Vergil X Reader #Vergil / Reader #Nero X Reader #Nero / Reader #DMC #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry Headcanon #DMC Imagine #Not My Gifs #My Writing

[honeytae]

8:36pm

hello lovies! i found a very old version of this in my drafts and decided to revamp it, so here’s some good old namjoon comfort. reader is seriously going through it, but joonie is the sweetest boyfriend ever!

word count, genre: 900+, angst/fluff

trigger warning - this drabble deals with themes of depression and anxiety

You were halfway between consciousness when the chime of your doorbell sat you up straight. Rubbing at your eyes, you stretched your legs, rolling your eyes as the doorbell rang out again.

Huffing, you stood from the couch and made your way to the front door, socked feet dragging along the floors of your foyer.

Realization dawned upon you as you tugged on the door handle, the tightness in your chest easing a bit at the memory of the soup you’d ordered an hour ago.

“Thank you,” you murmured to the delivery person standing in your doorway, trading the tip in your hand with the paper bag in theirs.

You had nearly forgotten you’d ordered anything.

Lately things had been off. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but your energy levels were all out of wack, your head felt heavy all of the time, and you were much too sedentary for typical comfort.

You got like this sometimes. It had happened enough that you knew you’d find the light again. That didn’t make you feel any less uneasy, though.

Heaving a sigh, you made your way to your living room. The shades were closed, just as they’d been for the last week. There wasn’t any reason to open them and let daylight blind you. You were also actively avoiding the fact that everyone else was out there living their lives while you sunk deeper and deeper into your funk.

You set the bag of food down on the coffee table with a sad crumpling noise, settling back into the couch cushions and watching as if it would suddenly unpack itself.

You aren’t sure when you fell back asleep, but you wake to the smell of noodles and a gentle weight on your forearm.

Blinking your bleary eyes open, you can just barely make out the sight of your boyfriend leaning over you, a gorgeous smile pulling at his lips.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he crooned as you slipped further out of slumber, the cushions below you shifting as he lowered himself beside you.

“Hey,” you spoke around a yawn, “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” you shifted closer to him, nuzzling into his side as he threw an arm around you.

“Hm, me neither. Finished up a little early,” he paused to pucker his lips against the top of your head, “and I missed you,” he spoke into your hair.

Shifting your gaze up to him, he leaned back to accommodate you, brown eyes glittering back at you being one of the only light sources in the dark room.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, meeting his soft lips in a chaste kiss, reaching up to soothingly scratch at his scalp.

He hummed against your lips, his touch leaving you for a moment as he leaned over to the coffee table. It was only then that you realized he had heated up your food from earlier, a steady lump swelling in your throat as he took a cup in his hand and guided it into your own.

You thanked him with a shy smile, faltering a bit when you saw the concern tainting his eyes.

“You’re worrying,” you squinted at him, watching triumphantly as his lips twitched just the slightest in response to your accusation.

It’s not necessarily that you’re trying to hide your struggles from Namjoon. You’d been with him long enough that you could read each other super easily, so there was no doubt in your mind that he knew you were in a major slump. You just never wanted to be the reason for Namjoon’s stress, reaching out to poke his cheek until you were met with that dimple you loved oh so dearly.

“Of course I am,” he started, causing you to raise your eyebrows as you anxiously stirred the spoon in the soup, giving him your full attention as he laid a palm on your thigh.

“I just,” he blinked, pausing for a moment, “I want to help you so bad. No matter what you’re telling yourself, your problems are my problems, baby,” he sighed, fingers massaging into the back of your neck at the first glimpses of tears gathering along your waterline.

“We can talk all night - hell, all week if you need to, okay?” he murmured, his soft tone eliciting more hot tears to run down your cheeks. They were immediately intercepted by Namjoon’s thumbs, your trembling lips soothed by soft puckers of his own.

“But please,” he pouted, his hand leaving your thigh to wrap around yours holding the warm cup of food, “please eat your soup,” his plea making you chuckle as you filled the spoon full of broth again.

Namjoon watched fondly as you guided the spoonful into your mouth, gently sliding his hands beneath your thighs to shift you sideways onto his lap.

“Okay?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked into your glassy eyes for confirmation.

You nodded, sniffling as you spooned the soup into your mouth. It was warm, comforting, just like your boyfriend.

“Okay,” you agreed, letting out a deep exhale as he wrapped his arms around your torso to hug you to him, laying his head on your shoulder as you continued to eat.

“Thanks for being my rock,” you swallowed the salty broth, watching Namjoon’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your shorts.

“You’re your own rock,” he affirmed, “I’m just the rainwater that washes away the dirt and grime.”

You snorted at the dorky sentiment, tilting your head to watch as his eyes crinkled in laughter at himself. You dropped your forehead on his shoulder, smiling at the sound of his healing giggles. You pressed your cheek to his shoulder, exhaling as he rubbed the warmth of his palm up and down your spine.

“Well, thanks for being my rainwater, then.”

#bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst

[underratedbitch-number13]

Part 3 : Elpis

A/N: I know that I have been gone for very long and almost abandoned these series. But I have exams going, and yesterday's paper was one of the shittiest ones I've ever written and I was feeling super down. So I came back to finish the angst, lol.

Anyways, I think it's lowkey rushed, but I hope everyone likes it :)

Also It felt so weird writing this chapters because I kept getting new ideas and I wanted to keep writing, but I didn't want to make it tooo long, though it's still pretty lengthy.

Repeating for clarity, MC DID NOT KNOW Mammon at all. She's a complete random stranger who happened to be there.

This part is going to be pretty heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Part 3 : Elpis

(Mammon x F!MC)

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Mammon is almost about to attempt suicide, bullying, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and mental abuse, blood, self harm, nightmares.

A LOT OF ANGST!!!

If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not read. This could be triggering.

Written in Third Person POV. Also, If there are any grammatical errors, please feel free to correct them.

Number of words : 2.5k

|| ☞ Part 1 || ☞ Part 2 || ☞ Part 4(coming end of April 2024) ||

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Simeon woke up with a gasp.

Beads of sweat lined his forehead as he desperately tried to calm his erratic breathing. It was the 6th time in a row.

He had another vision.

Simeon and Luke had temporarily returned to Celestial Realm after Luke fell seriously ill. Luke had almost recovered, but he needed a few more days to heal completely before they returned for the exchange program.

Simeon and Luke weren't aware of anything that had transpired back in Devildom in their absence, because they had left before the video was released.

But since the past few days, Simeon has been seeing terrible visions.

Visions of Mammon's death followed by utter chaos among his brothers, then a war with the human world. He vividly remembers seeing the Sorcerer's Society up in arms against the 6 brothers.

Solomon was there too, fighting against the brothers.

Simeon felt shivers when recalled how brutally Solomon ended Asmodeus's life after using their pact to his advantage. The entire war was a bloody mess with many dead, including Belphegor, Asmodeus, and Leviathan.

His visions never showed him the end of the war, so he never knew who won.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand Simeon decided it was time to talk to Michael. He needed to inform him about the visions and apologize for not telling sooner.

Getting out of his bed, Simeon got ready to visit Michael.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Michael appeared perplexed when Simeon told him about his visions.

Visions were not a part of Simeon's powers. Now he was seeing a recurring vision, that too one about a war between humans and demons?

Michael sent Simeon back after reassuring him that he'd get in touch with him about this matter soon. Unsatisfied with Michael's answer Simeon reluctantly headed back to his place.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't shake it off.

He cared about Solomon and the brothers, and he had grown very attached to them. These visions were like nightmares to him, and he felt helpless. He really wanted to do something to prevent all of this.

The thing that perplexed him the most was Mammon's death.

He did not know the cause of his death, he only knew that his body was found in the human realm with his heart ripped out.

Seeing his brother's body in that condition had incurred Lucifer's wrath, equivalent to what he had seen during the war before his fall.

The brothers had concluded that humans were somehow responsible for Mammon's death and bathed the human world in blood. Simeon's head hurt just thinking about it.

"Father," he prayed. "Please protect everyone."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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Barbatos and Diavolo had known. 

They were aware of the tragedy that was about to occur, after all, Barbatos had already checked every timeline.

Unfortunately, all of them only had one outcome, Mammon's death.

Diavolo was devastated upon learning this. He had failed! He failed as the future King! How could he not protect his subject, his dear friend Mammon?

Barbatos himself felt a little lost, his stoic persona wavered as remembered what he what he saw. Although he never openly showed his affection for Mammon, he cared. He cared more than anyone would believe.

It was hard for either of them to digest the fact

The panic slowly started to set in.

Diavolo insisted on talking to Mammon immediately, but he was stopped by Barbatos, who informed him of how every effort made by them in other timelines had done more damage than help.

In one timeline, when they tried talking to Mammon about his mental health, he denied everything. He laughed it off and replied with a "Nobody can hurt the Great Mammon!"

In other timelines, if they punished the students for bullying him, they would isolate themselves even further from him and would call him a snitch or a baby. And if they tried to stop Asmodeus from releasing the video by going to the past, another video of Mammon would always surface.

In the end, they couldn't change the future.

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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The winds picked up as Barbatos chanted mantras to invoke his most powerful magic.

Diavolo stood not far away, looking at the figure at a distance with a grave look on his face, his demon form emerging as Mammon stepped closer to the edge.

The Prince of Hell had never imagined that a day like this would ever come. The guilt in his heart was immeasurable knowing he had failed his dear subject, and he had almost been too late to realize that.

Now they had no option but to do this. Barbatos was going to freeze the time on Earth for a couple of hours until the full moon ended and then erase his memories from the past few months.

The next moon full as powerful as this one was three months away and that should give them more time to do something.

His eyes turned to Barbatos on his left as he stood in a trance-like state with his eyes closed, a dark aura emitting from him. He was almost done with the process.

"δεθιλΠγπξΨυΣἀἧΪΏ"

Barbatos began chanting louder, and his eyes slowly started opening to release his powers.

Diavolo turned his attention back to Mammon to check on him, and his eyes widened at what he saw. “Barbatos stop!” He yelled and grabbed the butler’s arm to break his concentration.

Barbatos fell on his knees, eyes opened wide and bloodshot, tears pouring out of them. "My Lord," Barbatos gasped, completely out of breath. "Why?"

Diavolo winced at Barbatos' state."Barbatos, I apologize. But we don't need to intervene anymore. He already has."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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Silver butterflies.

They were a sign of God’s presence.

Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer were the only demons who knew about those butterflies. They are usually seen when someone about to die is about to ascend to heaven OR it means that God was around.

Mammon, who was surrounded, couldn’t see the silver butterflies dancing around him.

They formed a line that was going in a particular direction. Almost like it was linking Mammon with something.

Or someone.

A human girl?

Diavolo and Barbatos watched from a distance, as the girl approached the bridge. She too was surrounded by the silver butterflies.

And she could see them.

There was awe on her face as she stared at those beautiful miracles fluttering around her. The bright full moon, the silver butterflies, and the gentle cool winds made the scene look magical.

Diavolo and Barbatos watched as the girl followed the butterflies giggling, not noticing Mammon.

Until she did. Her eyes fell on Mammon's figure, still in his human form, standing on the ledge with a painfully serene look on his face. The silver butterflies long forgotten, she ran towards Mammon with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

"No," she gasped, grabbing Mammon and pulling him down. “Please, please don’t do it.”

"What da hell?" Mammon cursed. "Who are ya?"

The human who was smiling and giggling just a few moments ago now had heavy tears flowing down her face.

"Please don't do this."

"What is it to ya?" Mammon yanked his hand out of the human's hands.

"It's not worth it, please. Don't do it," she repeated.

Mammon sighed irritatedly. "Look human, ya should go back. Ya don't know me and it's not yer place to tell me what to do."

"Please, it will hurt your loved ones--"

"I DON'T HAVE LOVED ONES." Mammon roared. "I am a scumbag, I don't deserve to live or be loved."

"That's not true!"

"What do ya know?!"

"Yes, I don't anything!! But what I do know is that nothing in this world is worth more than your life. It doesn't matter who loves whom. It's never going to be worth more than you!"

Mammon stayed silent.

"Why should you die for their sins? Why should you suffer because they aren't good people? I'm sorry you had to go through whatever you did, I'm sorry you don't think you deserve to be loved, and I'm really sorry that you find solace in the idea of dying. But please please please for the love of God, please don't do this"

Mammon wanted to scoff at the human. For the love of God? His father whom he betrayed for his wretched brother who has abandoned him now?

Karma, it's probably Karma, Mammon thinks.

He didn't want to listen to the human in front of him, after all, she was speaking the truth. He shouldn't have to suffer for his brothers.

But he was tired. Mammon didn't feel like he had enough strength to be strong another day. He had forgotten how to love himself, and without love, he knew he would shrivel.

Death was really the only option left.

Mammon realized that he shouldn't waste his time any further talking to this human. She was too nice for him and it's pretty late for a human girl to be out anyways.

"Look, I get what ya tryin' to say-"

"No," she stopped him from speaking, taking hold of his arm again. " I am not going to let you do it. You better be prepared to kill me if you want me to let go of you."

"Have ya lost yer mind?" Mammon looked at her with disbelief.

"No, I have not. But I will lose my mind because of guilt if I ignore this and let you do it."

Why? Why was this human going so far for him? Pity? Guilt?

"I will be there for you. We can be friends."

Mammon scoffed. What an arrogant human.

"Yer as stupid as ya look. Ya think I won't kill ya? And what makes ya think yer sob speech is enough to not make me jump? Ya only wanna be ma friend outta pity and I don't want any of that. Ya don't havta feel guilty or anythin. The world is not yer child an yer not responsible for it. Go home."

Mammon forced himself out of the human's grip and stood up. He looked at her, as she stared blankly at the ground.

He felt bad for being rude to her, but he had no choice. Mammon didn't like pity. After giving her one last look and climbed the edge again. He was about to switch to his demon form when a thought crossed his mind

Won't the human get terrified if she sees his demon form? What if she has nightmares?

"Give me one minute," she spoke interrupting Mammon's train of thoughts. She whipped out her phone and began typing furiously.

Is she calling for help? Will I have to deal with more annoying humans?

"Done," she declared and tossed her phone to the side of the bridge. It landed sideways and you could hear it crack.

What the--?

"Can you move a little and make some space for me? " She asked Mammon, coming over to where he was standing.

Mammon stood on a small ledge at the end of the bridge. It was the darkest corner and that's why he chose it. Although it was small, it could still hold two people.

"What are ya doing?" Mammon questioned, as the human struggled to get on the ledge.

"Joining you."

"What? Why? Human, have ya seriously lost yer mind?"

"No."

"Then what hell is yer problem ?! Why can't ya just leave me alone? Was that irritating speech of yours jus' empty words? Does the same logic not apply to ya?" "My brother committed suicide six months ago."

What--??

"I was the one who found his body. It was dark when I entered his room and his legs hit my face. He was hanging from the ceiling."

Mammon was left speechless at this sudden confession.

"I often wondered you know, why did he do it. He didn't leave a letter, a note, or even give a proper goodbye. He was my only family. I haven't moved on from his death yet. What if I had paid attention, would I have noticed that my always happy and smiling older brother was actually struggling? Did I ever notice how tired he looked or how lifeless his eyes were? If I had, maybe he would still be here."

There was a pause, as she struggled to continue.

"Maybe if I was a better sister, maybe if I wasn't such a burden, then he wouldn't have died. I feel so pathetic you know. So useless. If anything he deserved to live more than I do. He worked so many jobs to ensure we both had a roof over our heads and food on our plates. He sacrificed most of his life to make sure that my life was good, and what did I do for him? Nothing." "Hey stop. Yer not to blame for anything that happened, and ya don't havta to tell me if it's so painful--"

"No, I am telling you all of this because I want you know to that I don't have a reason to live either. I had lost my will to live the day my brother died, but I kept going because everyone told me that my brother would've wanted me to be happy. I tried, I tried so hard to be happy but I couldn't. And today when I saw you on the ledge with the same expression as my brother on the day he killed himself, I felt the world slip under my feet. If I can't stop you from killing yourself, it's going to destroy me. So why not join you? I always feared dying alone anyway."

She had successfully climbed up and now stood beside Mammon.

"If you don't mind, can I request something? Can we hold hands when we jump?"

Mammon could tell she was trembling, he could sense her fear.

Humans truly are the most annoying species in the whole universe.

"Tch, stupid human," Mammon grumbled and picked up the human in bridal style. He got down from the ledge and walked away from the corner, still holding her in his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Shuddup, I'm taking ya to the mental hospital. Ya need some serious help."

"Do you know the address to one?"

"No, but ya will tell me. I know ya know."

"Fine, I'll tell you. But can we please stop at my place for a bit? I have to pick up a couple of things."

"Tch tch, Annoying little human."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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ALSO GUYS I AM SO SORRY FOR ABANDONING THIS. I WILL FINISH THIS SERIES BY THE END OF THIS MONTH, I PROMISE.

And also thank you to everyone who took their time to read so far. I really really appreciate it.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Please let me know your thoughts on how you feel about this.

If You Want To Be Tagged For The Next Part, You Can Comment Below

TAG LIST:

@vera-deville @obeythebutler @macherise @kimpsuwuw @beels-burger-babe @angeladore @rose-lord-of-simps @randomperson46 @depressedsilverloser @ilysia @mammonsturtle @anni1600 @devildomsgod @devilfemdom @leviathans-watching @asmosmainhoe @eternallydaydreaming2015 @gallantys @macherise @unnecessaryshenanigan @mythsofkairos @fandumshippr @keqingsfavbestie @siniy606@nightshadeheart11 @luckyauthorlampknight @gaylords-posts @mmeowxd @of-thegreedgod @veras-fanfic-reblogs @undeaddevildom @scxrletss @devildombimbo @i-passionately-love-angst @marisely03

#om! angst #om mammon x mc #om mammon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon fanfic #mammon angst #obey me mammon angst #obey me angst fic #obey me angst #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me fic #obey me belphie #obey me levi #obey me brothers #underratedbitch number13 #tw blood #tw depressing thoughts #tw suicidal thoughts #tw self deprecation #tw abuse #tw depression #tw self destruction #tw: self harm

[tequiilasunriise]

Okay more screaming about Wednesday specifically THAT moment during the final ep:

Enid walks out of a forest, covered in blood and wounds from her previous battle for her life. Enid was shown to be (incredibly justifiably) afraid of creepy shit like exploring spooky ass mansions or going in the woods, but homegirl did not hesitate to RUN through those dark, murder-filled woods in order to find Wednesday. I believe her wolfie form was triggered by not just the powerful blood moon, but also her deep sense of protectiveness over Wednesday. Like, she literally JUMPKICKED Hyde!Tyler’s ass when he was choking out her moon even though this is her first shift and she has no prior experience with controlling her wolfed out state. That’s…. Pretty fucken gay and the fight scene was pretty fucken AWESOME with how visceral it got. Apollo really looked at the ao3 fics we were pumping out and said, “Bet.”

Furthermore, the fact that Wednesday instantly recognized Enid in the midst of all of this adrenaline rushing and shadowy scenery? How Enid initially snarled at Wednesday but seemed to pause and calm down a little upon recognizing her ? Calming down to the point where our beloved ray of sunshine got distracted mid-fight and gave Tyler an opportunity to strike back? Also super fucken mega gay behavior, like yes Enid my darling that’s your girl I know you were so worried over her bUT MY GOD FOCUS ON THE SERIAL KILLER RIGHT BEHIND YOU BABYGIRL I KNOW THIS IS YOUR FIRST SHIFT BUT GODDAMN!!!

I will never shut up about the Hug Scene™️ and its buildup. Enid stumbling out of the woods all blood covered and even though she’s in Ajax’s arms she isn’t like, “Thank god you’re safe” or whatever. No, she takes one look around and immediately asks in a soft, shaky voice, “Where’s Wednesday?” AND THAT TINY MOMENT OF DISTRESS ON HER FACE WHEN NO ONE ANSWERS HER. ARGH. EMMA PLLEASSEEE YOURE FEEDING US SO WELL. When Enid sees Wednesday walking out she a) is the first one to even recognize Wednesday’s silhouette against the fog b) HER IMMEDIATE RELIEF IS SO PLAIN TO SEE ON MY GOD c) does not hesitate to pull away from Ajax and fucken sprint into Wednesday’s arms.

The.

Slow.

Motion.

THE SLOW MOTION YOUR HONOR.

Gods, that just emphasized the sheer gravity of this moment SO MUCH, after so many attempts to hold her moon close Enid finally says, “FUCK IT” and goes right in because fer all she knew Wednesday could have been dead by now. The way she tightly embraces Wednesday before pulling back with so much relief and T E A R S, my god Emma you understood the assignment so well. Wednesday’s wide-eyed stare shifting into equally intense passion as she suddenly pulls Enid back to into her arms and they just CLING to each other with amazing shots of how emotional their expressions are. So fucken full of love and relief and wanting. I especially love the way you can see everyone in the background smiling at the pair. Shit dude, even Ajax shared a knowing look with another student, like even HE knows that Wenclair reigns supreme. The whole school be approving of Wenclair fr fr they witness this devotion-filled hug scene and collectively go, “Yeah, those two belong together. We ship it.”

The hug was so fucken tender. My god. It was a choice made by both of them, a choice both Enid and Wednesday made with equal fervor. They didn’t need words anymore, Jenna’s phenomenal acting gave Wednesday a longing stare that said it all. The way Enid’s hands spread across Wednesday’s back as she clings close, Wednesday’s eyes squeezing shut as if she’s just begging for this moment to last without any visions to get in the way. The final shot of the two embracing with her heads tucked so firmly into the crook of the other’s neck. Seriously, I’ve read some VERY top tier Wenclair fanfics, but none were as so potently, “Fuck… I almost lost this. I almost lost her” as the canon Hug Scene™️. I was losing hope for any Wenclair goodness that could balance out the sheer throw up that was Enid and Ajax making out, but the Hug Scene™️ literally broke into my house, dragged me outta my bed by my scruff, and went about beating the living shit outta me in my own kitchen at 5 am in the morning and it was AMAZING. Wenclair Slowburn Truthers rise up, because my god do we have a solid foundation to work with.

#hug hug hug #gods. even the soundtrack understood the assignment. #forever dying over Wenclair’s AMAZING chemistry no other love interest fer either girl has even a third of the same level of connection #Enid literally planned out this wholeass big old bday party fer Wednesdayand made her a snood and everything #GET ON HER LEVEL BUCKOS #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 11 Interludes thoughts:

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Ok. Just in order I think. Sorry for the chaos.

Started off with puppies. I was happy.

Then the puppies started getting a little more violent than needed. I was less happy.

Then Victoria got clowned on a little and I was little bit more happy.

Then the unkillable naked zebra lady showed up everything kinda went downhill. For everyone.

Bitch do not join the supervillain serial killer group, please and thank you.

Seriously though, The Siberian is a bit scary. Just, completely invincible as far as anyone can tell. And super strong.

Theo is having a bad day. And unless someone takes care of Jack Slash for him he's gonna have a bad few years.

Jack Slash is such a poser oh my god. Dude. Come one. You aren't all that.

Also. Jack. Do not toss a loaded baby! That baby had a full diaper. You toss that baby and you are liable to have a containment breach. Speaking from experience, you do not want a containment breach. (Also just don't throw babies of course.)

I hope Theo gets cool powers and is able to become a super amazing hero like he dreams of. On the plus side, probably gonna be lots of opportunities for trigger events coming up. On the minus side, he didn't trigger when Jack Slash was planning on killing him so I don't know if he's gonna be able to.

They were obviously going to go for Labyrinth. She has such amazing powers for mass terror. Though I guess Burnscar never tried to actually recruit her. I assume that was the plan though.

Also Burnscar needs to stop excusing her actions. Just be evil or don't be evil. You don't get to be evil and say it's not your fault (that sure will come up again in these interludes).

I fucking LOVED the description of how Labyrinths powers work. Just the details of everything. So good!

Fucking Colin. Of course they had to go for you. Why can't you just go away and leave my robot daughter alone?

Mannequin is fucking WILD. Like, god damn. Those are sure choices you made. Helps you be creepy as shit though. And get through air vents.

Mannequin writing out "U ME" to Pocketknife Man by laying keyboard keys down on the table one at a time has cursed meet-cute energy.

In the end, Colin survives cause my robot daughter saves him. And I guess she's gonna tell him the truth about being an AI. Fiiiiiiine. I will be polite to Colin if he comes over to dinner. He still needs to apologize to my other daughter though.

Also I'm sure glad the Slaughterhouse Nine won't have any use for the magic pocketknife that can cut through anything that Mannequin took. No worries at all I'm sure. It won't do jack shit for them. Might as well just slash the idea and toss the knife out.

Cool. Some Nazis died. That's great!

Not enough though. Disappointed in Shatterbird.

But if one good thing can come of this whole Slaughterhouse Nine thing, maybe Hookwolf can die. I'm not holding my breath though.

Shatterbird has a very interesting power set. Being specifically glass focused like that. Definitely can see how she would terrorize a city.

Dinah PoV. DINAH POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok well first off, I obviously hated Coil for Dinah already. Enough that I don't really know if the Dinah PoV can technically make me hate him more. But that said, I hate him more. WTF.

The description of her power was so NEAT though! Had a minor moment of "oh hey this paragraph of this precog talking about her power works inside her head is an almost perfect description of how my brain works" which was wild. I don't actually get to see the future though, which is a major difference.

She can actually just full blow see a possible future holy shit! Wow. Like it hurts and she hates it but it's still crazy.

Also I guessed that Crawler was going to come for Traveler in a Vault (that is Noelle's cape name until I am told different) after the Bitch interlude. I was very happy I got that right since I really knew almost nothing about either.

So Crawler just basically can't die and gets stronger every time he gets hurt. I wonder how long it will take him to reach Endbringer level power?

And Traveler in a Vault is just a large monster that is always hungry and can be driven to the point of eating people. That sucks a lot for her.

Also Leviathan came after her too huh? Well that's probably fine and won't matter in the future.

Regent's sister is worse than he is. That's impressive! Like, not good impressive. But impressive.

Getting real close to the "can't exist" physic power set. I guess it's not quite it though.

She should keep a better eye on her phone battery.

AMY DALLON! I knew it would be you.

I knew you were destined to be a tragedy from the moment I met you. You were always going to become a villain. So once I knew the Nine were recruiting it was a guarantee that you'd be recruited.

Specifically, that you'd be recruited by Bonesaw. She is an artist and obviously she is obsessed over the art you could make together.

Holy shit though that chapter.

Lets see. FUCK CAROL. Victoria gets some excuses, she's a kid, she's following her mom's example, etc. But FUCK CAROL. You are partially responsible for what Amy is about to become.

Despite being terrified, Amy seemed to have a dark fascination with everything Bonesaw was doing and saying. Really listened as Bonesaw explained things.

The more detailed view of what Amy's power does is crazy. She really can do just about anything to someone.

“Why not fix your dad?” is where Bonesaw won. It's about 3/5 of the way through the chapter. And she won at that point. That was the killing blow. The rest of the chapter, the remaining 3.5k or so words, is watching Amy bleed out to drive the point home. It is Panacea's death monologue. It is beautiful and tragic and amazing.

All that said, since she is losing anyway, is it bad for me to want more of Bonesaw's notes? SHE HAS LORE! GIVE IT TO ME!

Dad at least seems pretty good. He made the perfect response after getting healed. Unfortunately she was already gone.

AND THERE IT IS. THERE IS THE THAT FINAL STEP. Fucking rewire your adopted sisters mind to have romantic feelings for you. No you don't get to say it was an accident! You chose to do it. Holy shit Amy. You are going to be an amazing (terrifying) villain.

Callback to Burnscar and blaming her power for her actions.

If Worm was a Disney movie Amy would end up with the best song, 100%. Hellfire or similar levels.

#Worm #Worm Web Serial #Parahumans #Cairavende reads Worm #The Slaughterhouse Nine #Panacea #Amy Dallon #Holy shit there was so much in those interludes! #Bonesaw #Jack Slash #Crawler #Shatterbird #Burnscar #Mannequin #The Siberian #Cherish #The Amy chapter was just so good. The fact that I basically knew it was coming and knew what was going to happen just made it even better. #New Wave was already considering disbanding. I assume after this they crack like an egg. #I'm a little worried about some of my babies though. Bitch. Labyrinth. Hmm I guess mostly just them. #Seriously though the Amy chapter is possibly my favorite chapter in Worm so far. Definitely favorite to live read. #Ever live read Worm so fucking well that a cute girl admits to having a crush on you? #Though despite what the Nine said I don't expect everyone who doesn't join to die. Some probably will die though. #And all that information to process. Stuff from Dinah and stuff from Bonesaw and stuff from Labyrinth! #Oh and I'm sure it's nothing to worry about that Dinah said 2 years is when Jack Slash might trigger the end of the world #and 2 years is the timeline Jack gave Theo to get ready to fight him #I'm sure that won't mean anything. #Oh god and Traveler in a Vault (TiaV)! She is more than just a monster. She is important and I want to know more!!!!!!!!!

[dkoyaillustration]

"You reached out your hand

And I held it in mine,

Side by side we stand

As our hearts slowly entwine.

Stay with me,

As we run towards the edge of dawn

Together we will be set free

As we carve a path of our own,

You will never be alone."

Happy super belated Valentine's to everyone. :]

Gotta admit, I bought a Nintendo Switch just for this game and I don't regret it one bit. Three Houses destroyed my life, in a good way, of course! I was super proud when I got that special title screen after beating maddening. Seriously though, fuck Pass and Poison strike especially in the first 6 chapters. The 24/7 doubling and same turn reinforcements were truly maddening too. Good times!

FE3H was my first Fire Emblem game and now I'm in love with the series! Never thought I'd love tactical RPG and it doesn't hurt that they have amazing characters and stories as well.

Currently, I'm playing FE Engage and Awakening. I read that Awakening's Lunatic especially Lunatic+ is crazy though! Dunno If I hate myself enough to try it!

Having lots of fun playing and hoo boy am I glad I pulled the trigger on this one!

#fire emblem #edelgard von hresvelg #fe3h byleth #fire emblem three houses #byleth x edelgard

[starrysharks]

Sorry if this has been asked before, but where did you learn shape language and color theory?

i learned shape language mostly from western cartoons like disney and cartoon network stuff. also i used to watch art youtubers back then (don't really recommend them though) who always said to use it, so i did based off of their tutorials. a lot of it is kind of subconscious now - round shapes for friendly characters, spikes for mean characters is a bit basic but i find myself defaulting to it often. but in my opinion deviating from that is super fun and i recommend it!

for color theory, it was twitter artists that helped me the most. if there are any artists in particular for you who inspire you when it comes to their color choices, COLORPICK FROM THEM!!! seriously, it isn't a crime and it can help you with whatever sort of general "tone" you want your art to have. other than on twitter, i got a lot of inspo for my color choices specifically from promare by studio trigger/hiroyuki imaishi. that movie uses a TON of bright colors and beautiful use of theory and i think its required viewing for everyone on the planet its so good even outside of an art perspective. tutorials also came in handy, learning the rules of contrasting colors and dark/light etc. also don't be afraid to experiment when you're drawing. sorry that sounds basic i am NOT good at explaining stuff but i hope it helps!

#ask zeno

[previousloversandmuses]

FREQUENCY: Episode 4 - A Solider Boy Story

FREQUENCY:  A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 4: “Virginia Woolf”

WORD COUNT: 4815

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader 

WARNINGS: (NSFW) Foul language. Mentions of, and graphic depictions of sex. TRIGGER WARNING: Offensive slurs. Violence, depression, and mentions of suicide. 

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns. 

Masterlist | Taglist

No but seriously, if you're easily offended, this episode is not for you. Please remember that I am a writer, and the things my characters say are not my personal beliefs.

John was the closest thing I had to a romantic partner. We would have sex, he’d complain to me about something, and then I’d beg him to get revenge on Vought. We both understood each other well, and knew the other person's likes and dislikes. I knew what pissed him off more than anything, and he knew niche things like I didn’t like mustard. I knew he was unbeatable, and he knew that I was breakable. That was in comparison to Maeve, obviously. 

We would be fucking, his hot, suped up skin slapping into mine with unrelenting fervor. I wouldn't just feel him in my cervix, no; I’d feel my bones rub against each other, I’d hear my joints brace for impact as they tried desperately not to shatter. My fingers would grip whatever surface I was closest to. I’d hopelessly try and grasp for some sort of leverage, my knuckles popping, and turning a stark shade of white as I clenched tighter, and tighter as he pierced into me from behind. 

I’d be too overwhelmed to speak. Choking on screams, the breath being stolen from my lungs. He would get so into it, he’d forget how fragile I was in comparison to him. I’d try to pry myself out of his strong grasp, flopping myself down onto the mattress like a fish out of water. He’d pull away then, letting me go, and admiring his painting of broken capillaries on my asscheeks. I’d be bruised for weeks on end. One time I had to go to the hospital. A nurse asked what I did to myself, I told her I fucked The Homelander. She laughed, and said, “good one.” 

I remember he and I getting into a big fight because he used to follow me around town when I would’nt answer his phone calls. I told him he had no right to put a leash on me, and if he wanted to do that then he could just ask me to be his, and we’d call it a day. He never wanted that commitment though. And if I’m being honest with you, neither did I. To get back at me for ignoring him he started fucking Stormfront. The Nazi. Yeah, I saw that one coming. When she died he came crawling back. 

I stood by my open door on my balcony, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. He knelt below me, his arms wrapped around my waist, resting on top of my ass like a shelf. He smashed his face into my lower stomach, placing gentle kisses, and speaking into me. He was begging me to forgive him. I gazed off into the distance, acting angry with my arms crossed over my chest, pouting. But if I’m being honest with you, I never felt more powerful than in that moment. The strongest man in the world begging for my forgiveness? I gave in very easily to that one.

I stayed up all night last night worrying about SB. Should I just tell Ama? Should I be honest, and let her know I’m housing an enemy of the state on her property? What if she didn’t buy the love story? What if she kicked us out, and I couldn’t get my revenge on Vought? What if John finds out, comes to find me, and kills everyone in his path, including my super weapon? There would be laser burns in the earth from here to timbuktu. 

See, in the beginning I was NOT planning on referring to SB as my boyfriend, or partner, or whatever. I didn’t even think that far ahead. In fact, I’m not even sure what I was going to refer to him as when the time came. But now that I’m here, and now that she has assumed that we’re an item, I guess there is nothing else I can do. He would be my fake boyfriend, and I would be the awkward girlfriend who didn’t like showing physical intimacy. I’m sure that wouldn’t be too hard to believe.

I mean, I could show physical intimacy with him, I could try, at least. But hell, I barely knew how to show it with someone like John, and he's been seeing me naked for almost four years now. 

I roll out of bed with a groan. I definitely didn’t get enough sleep. I open the blinds, and squint as the beaming morning shines in on me. High UV index, I think, or, I feel. Sunscreen is definitely a must. Looking out the window, I smile as a few of the res kids run around, spraying each other with a garden hose. That joy is short lived as I turn to see Soldier Boy SITTING NEXT TO FIVE OTHER UNASSUMING ADULTS, AND HAVING GOD KNOWS WHAT KIND OF CONVERSATION WITH THEM HOLY FUCK-

I scramble out of my bedroom, tripping over the pillows I piled onto the floor last night before I fell asleep. I rush over to the front door, only to catch myself in the reflection of the microwave. Yeah, let's not go outside in underwear and a skimpy tank top. I bactrack into the bedroom, sliding on a pair of jeans, and a bra. I trip over the pillows one more time on my way out.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Ama beams from a beach chair set up next to SB. He turns around to see me, as does everyone else in the area. 

Five different people come up to hug me, and say hello. I gracelessly return the gesture. Why does everyone here insist on touching me? I almost faint as a small toddler runs towards me with sticky fingers. Thank God someone lifts him up before he can get close. He smells like maple syrup. It makes me nauseous. I fucking hate kids. 

“I didn’t realize everyone woke up so early around here.” I mumble, moving over to an empty chair in the circle of adults. 

“I would've thought you’d be a light sleeper.”  Ama taunts.

“I usually am,” I respond. I turn to SB now, taking in his expression and overall vitals. He's calm, that's good, I think. “How did you sleep?” I ask him, squinting my eyes in his direction.

“Well, thanks. What about you?” He beams. Bastard.

Like shit, I think.

“Peachy.” I say, smiling back. I roll my eyes as I look off into the distance. This was going to be a long three months. 

Some of the other people begin to walk off back to their homes. Ama goes to wrangle her son and her boyfriend. I look up at her.

“Where is everyone going?” I ask.

“Most of us are going to get our day started. Feel free to tag along or chill out here, I don’t really care.”

“Awesome. I think we will probably get our bearings today. Maybe next time though.” I say stiffly, with a synthetic smile. 

She smiles back at me as she walks over to her trailer.

I sit uncomfortably, gripping the chair's armrests. He turns to me slowly with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you always this awkward?” He asks.

I whip my head over to him, slightly offended.

“I’m not that awkward.” I defend.

“Right…” He drags. “And I’m twenty five.”

I scoff at him, standing up, and walking back over to our trailer. 

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Getting my day going.” I respond curtly, leaving the door open for him to follow me.

I head inside, going into my room, and beginning to make my bed. He leans on the doorframe, and watches as I struggle to readjust the fitted sheet onto the mattress. 

“Back in my day you’d have that done before you even left the room.”

“Well, unfortunately, this isn’t 1940.” I sneer. 

“How old are you anyways?” He asks, his eyes burning a hole into my ass as I tuck in the top sheet under the mattress. 

“Twenty-two.” I say without turning around. 

I hear him whistle behind me, sighing. I move closer to where he is to grab the pillows off of the ground, putting them back onto the bed. 

“Not everyday you shack up with a dame eighty years younger than you, huh?” He jokes.

Looking at his face I can tell this bothers him. I decide not to poke fun at him about it.

“Well, you don't look a day past thirty-five.” I reassure. 

He smiles weakly at that. He moves back into the kitchen as I finish up on the bed. He pulls a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, and goes over to the gas stove. Leaning down, he lights it on the burner. He lets out a few puffs before he takes a deep inhale, pulling it out from between his lips with his thumb and forefinger. He leans against the counter in the kitchen as he watches me make my way back out of the bedroom, and onto the couch. 

“So, do you have a plan?” He asks me. I look up at him.

“Oh, for the summer?” I question back.

I reach for the remote, turning the TV on. I leave it muted as I search for a news channel. Still no talk of his escape. 

“Yeah, do you have anything planned out?”

I sigh, thinking about all the fantasies I’ve had in the past.

“Well, for a long time I just hoped I could get them all in one room and then blow them up.”

“Ah,” He laughs. “Now I know what you need me for.”

“Well,” I start. “At first I just thought about using regular bombs, but no one was willing to help me do it. Then I realized they still had you alive somewhere, and thought to myself, he's a living bomb. Plus, you’re a tough man to kill. It’d be damn near impossible for these people to have any sort of defense against you when the time comes.”

He nods at me. “You do any combat?” 

I laugh a little at that.

“My abilities are strictly senses. I’m just as weak as a civilian, if not more.”

“If not more? What the fuck does that mean?”

I sigh, pulling my hands up to try and begin to explain to him. 

“Picture a thunderstorm,” I start. “You have a four year old kid who's deathly afraid of thunder. That fear isn’t going to physically stop him from getting to the storm cellar, is it?”

“No, guess not.” He says, watching me intently.

“Okay, then picture me. If there is a loud clap of thunder, and my hearing is the way that it is, a sound that intense will implode my eardrums. It will shake my body. The lightning will literally blind me. I remember I used to have to wear these noise canceling ear covers when I was a little girl. They worked, of course, but sometimes too well. I’d find myself being able to hear the blood pumping in and out of my heart. Then the neurons firing in my brain.”

“I guess you have a point,” He says, then realizes; “But your plan, with the bombs. That's loud. Wouldn’t that just be your worst nightmare?”

I take a deep breath.

“Well, I’ve never been around much of a sound like that before, I’ve only ever heard detonations from a great distance, like in Russia, and such,”

His eyes widen in awe as I continue to speak on my story. 

“But I’m assuming if I were in close proximity to something like that I’d surely just…die?”

“Ah, so it’ll be just me there then?” He inquires.

“No, I’d definitely be there,” I say, shaking my head. “Not to get dark, or ruin a nice moment, but…y’know…”

He looks around, confused. 

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I would die happy? And I would be getting revenge on the people that ruined my life, and would hopefully go out quickly, without incident.”

“So this is a suicide mission?” He grills, moving in closer to me.

“I don’t think about it that way,” I say. “This is a childhood dream coming true.”

“Yeah, well, my childhood dream never involved sacrificing myself for the sake of revenge.”

“Well, to each their own.” I shrug, standing up, moving to put my shoes on. 

“What about my family? How will I end up finding them without your help?”

Oh yeah, I think. That. 

I look up into the ceiling for a second, rubbing my chin in thought.

“Ah,” I say, beginning to tie my shoes. “I’ll leave you a note.”

He watches as I stand up to leave the house. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, concerned. 

“A hike. It’s too nice of a day to stay inside, plus, I like to listen to the trees.” 

I go to grab the door latch, feeling his gaze burning a hole into my back. 

“You can come if you want,” I offer. 

He sighs in content as he follows me out of the house. 

When I was younger, when I lived in West Virginia, I used to hike all the time. I’d go out to the most remote point I could find off the beaten path, and sit with my hands cupped over my ears. If I quieted my mind enough, I could hear past the blood pumping in and out of a bucks heart half a mile away. I could hear past the thunderous flapping of a hawk's wings. I could hear past the cartilage rattling inside of a snake's tail. If I got quiet enough, I could hear the plants working. Living. Existing. I’d listen to them breathe carbon in, and exhale oxygen out. If I put my hands against the hard ground, I could feel their roots fill up with nutrients, and send the Earth's goodness back up into the trunk, and into the branches of the tree. I would completely envelop myself within the soil, becoming one with the flow of nature.

Life was simpler then, a time without distractions. A time without worries or a deathwish. A time without a prehistoric supe trailing behind me for an hour and a half not saying a single word.

I smell it as he pulls it out of his pocket and up to his mouth. 

“No.” I say simply.

He groans from behind me. I hear the flickering of a lighter anyway. I stop in my tracks, turning around to face him. He’s cupping a firm hand around a tiny joint. It's comical in comparison to him. As he exhales he looks up at me. I glare at him, my arms crossed over my chest.

“What, no hash either?”

I don’t say a word, just continuing to glare.

“I don't know what stick you have up your tight ass, but someone needs to pull it out.”

I roll my eyes, beginning to walk away from him. 

“Sometimes I swear you're mentally retarded by the way you act around other people.”

I stop again, turning around, and holding a finger up to him.

“Okay, first of all, no one says that word anymore. Second of all, I just want some peace and quiet. No distractions. But this entire walk you have been huffing and puffing, and now you decide to light one of the worst smelling things in the history of the planet, with a shitty, cheap gas station lighter from the middle of fucking nowhere that reeks of propane.”

He holds his hands up in defense, laughing at my irritation. 

“No reason for the hysterics, sweetheart.” 

“God, you’re a sleaze ball.” I groan, stomping off as far away from him as possible on the trail.

“Am I?” He asks.

“The quintessential sleaze ball, actually.” I gripe.

“Now doll, you’re just hurting my feelings.”

He catches up to me easily, trying to irritate me more. He walks right next to me now. I try to move faster, take bigger strides, but it’s no use. My sprint is his equivalent to a slow walk through the park. 

“I can always leave you alone and go fuck off to Costa Rica.” He beams.

I look at him from the corner of my eye, glaring.

“You say the word and I will happily let you exist without me. Doesn’t that sound nice, sweetheart?” 

“Fine,” I stop. “You can get the fuck out of here.”

He stops now too. Turning to face me, he holds his joint in one hand, and talks with the other.

“Hey nutcase, last time I checked you fuckin’ got me out! You really think I want to be spending my first taste of freedom arguing with a suped-up schizo-tard?”

I cross my arms, gritting my teeth.

“Then leave, I already told you once before.”

I pluck his joint out of his fingers and throw it onto the ground, smashing it into the dirt with my boot. He rubs his hands onto his face, growing angrier by the minute.

“You’re psychotic!” He yells.

“Okay! Leave then.” I begin to walk off, as fast as humanly possible without committing to a full run.

“I can’t leave!” He screams.

I stop and turn around to face him. He looks down at the ground in defeat.

“Look, wacko, I can’t go anywhere unless you give me information on my family. That’s the only reason I’m even considering helping you. You give me that, and I will gladly leave you alone.” 

Ugh, the fucking family, I think. God damnit. It was a good idea in the moment, but now it serves as a constant reminder for my immense guilt. I should've never, ever said that. I can’t stand to be around this guy, but I don’t want him to know I’m lying to him. He would be crushed to know.

“Look, I don't mind helping you,” He starts. “As long as I get what I need when the time comes. Just fuckin, chill out a little bit, please.” 

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I clasp and unclasp my strained hands. 

“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay, you’re right.”

He sighs in relief, beginning to follow me again as we make our way back down the trail. 

“You owe me for that reefer by the way,” He adds. “And, if we could get some new clothes for me too, that would be nice. I’ve been wearing this for a few days now.”

I smile softly as he stomps behind me.

He didn’t understand why modern women were so whiny. So ridiculous and dramatic. He didn’t understand why they wore pants so tight you could see the outline of their G string through them-- not that he was complaining. He didn’t understand the point of platform heels outside of a strip club, or the fact that they had women with penises working inside of the strip club. 

As he walks up and down the aisles of the local consignment store, he can’t help but grab articles of women's clothing, and hold it up in awe. A black shirt without sleeves, small enough to be worn by a child, with the phrase “I’d do me” on the front of it in hot pink writing. He shakes his head, hanging it back onto the rack, and catching up to his brooding handler. 

She makes small talk with an elderly couple. The old woman holds up two shirts, putting each one up against her husband's skin, seeing which one looks best against his tone. Freak has her hand up to her chin in thought, squinting her eyes at the older man.

“See, I feel like the green is too harsh against his skin because he's so pink.” She states.

The old man groans, the older woman nodding along with her.

“See, I told you Steve, you don’t look good in this color.”

“I have to wear green, Marie. Everyone who's in the wedding party has to.”

“Well, I’m sure Junior will make an exception for his Papaw. And no one told me to wear green.”

“Cause you’re not in the damn party!”

“Well I should be, I'm only the groom's flesh and blood!”

Freak looks flustered, rubbing her hands down the front of her face. She can sense him behind her. Whipping around, she grabs him by the arm, presenting him to the old couple in front of her.

“I really wish I could stand here and help, but I have to go shop for my… husband.” She announces.

The couple turn to face him now. The old man stares at him with squinted eyes. The old woman takes off her glasses and gazes at him from top to bottom.

“Do I know you, son?” The old man questions.

Freak's face goes stark white.

“Oh, don’t be so senile,” Says the old woman. “These two just moved to town!”

The old woman turns to her now, leaning into her ear, whispering.

“I’ll tell you what though, he sure does look old enough to be your father.” 

SB rolls his eyes at that. The old woman's version of a whisper was just lowering her voice a few octaves. 

“Say, how old are you anyway?” The old woman asks. 

“Thirt-” Freak starts. He finishes for her though.

“A hundred and two.” He says with a smile.

The elderly couple look at him with their jaws dropped, then turn to each other and start laughing. The old man wipes under his eyes, pulling his own glasses off, beginning to clean them.

“You’re quick witted, son, I’ll give ‘ya that!” Says the old man.

As the older couple walks off, he pats SB on the back. They laugh their way into the tchotchke aisle. 

SB and Freak smile at the two of them as they walk out of sight. Freak turns to him, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Are you fucking crazy?” She asks in a hushed voice.

“They thought it was funny.” He shrugs.

She rolls her eyes as she pushes her cart into the mens denim section. 

“Not funny. Don't do that again,” She disciplines. “What’s your waist size, by the way?”

He makes a face, looking at different pairs of pants on the rack.

“I don’t know woman, that ain’t my job,” He states, leaning into her ear. “And I’m not a queer either.”

She turns to him, glaring. 

“You’re telling me you've never bought your own clothes?”

“Never been my job.” He states plainly.

She sighs, looking him up and down. He’s muscular, thick, manly. All things she can indeed admire, but tries not to for the sake of a professional partnership. She swallows those thoughts down before they can resurface again. 

“You’re probably a 38 or 40.” She states, her mouth going dry, grabbing a couple pairs of jeans.

He nods, whatever the fuck that means. 

They stay in the store a little while longer. He trails behind as he watches her pick up certain garments, and hold them up to his face. She never asks him for his opinion. He doesn’t care to give one anyway. Hell, what does he know about fashion? He was only thirty years out of date. She was much more tolerable when she wasn’t talking. Although he didn’t mind her being so headstrong. Different for a woman, indeed. Attractive? Most definitely. 

He was a lot more outgoing back in the day. More willing to have conversations with people he didn’t know. He knew what things were hip, and what to say to people as they passed him by on the street. But everything has changed now. You don’t smile at anyone as they walk past you. Apparently everything he says is far past expired, and comically vintage. Like a carton of sour milk. He's offensive, generally vile, and disrespectful to women, cripples, nutjobs, and other races besides his own. Yet, everything he does now was a social norm at some point. It was praised. It was normal. He was normal.

He follows her up to the cash register like a lost puppy. The person checking them out has downs. They really hire anyone these days, huh? He thinks to himself, rolling his eyes. It nauseates him to see. The woman at the other register has to be over a hundred. She moves like thick tar, and shakes like a withdrawing alcoholic. What has the world come to?

The two of them walk out to her shitty car. He offers to put everything in the trunk for her. She agrees, bringing the cart back over to the front of the store. So much for chivalry being dead, huh? They drive off without a word. She can tell he’s hungry, she's heard his stomach growling for over an hour. She stops to get him a cheeseburger, and suggests they run by the liquor store so she doesn't have to go back out later. 

She runs inside, walking back out with a twenty-five dollar bottle of jack, and a carton of marlboro reds. He remembers when whiskey was seven dollars even. The world has gone to shit. 

When the two of them finally arrive back home after a long day, the sun is just beginning to set on the horizon. She begins to unload the car, as he leans against it, lighting a cigarette. Before heading to the liquor store earlier they swung by the Dollar General for some groceries. She waltzes back and forth from the car, and back up to the house, stocking the cupboards more and more with each trip. 

In the distance, Ama walks towards their trailer, an elderly man by her side. He assumes they are here to greet the whackjob. He yells for her.

“Hey Virginia Woolf, looks like you got a visitor.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Tell them I’ll be out in a second.�� She calls back, a hint of exhaustion in her voice. 

Her eyes grow tired and heavy as she puts everything away. She feels like her arms weigh a ton each. Sleep is always something she has needed to exist as a normal person. Although “normal” she's sure he'd disagree with. Virginia Woolf, she thinks. This guy must really think I’m nuts. 

“Ben!” Ama calls.

He turns around, puffing on his cigarette. He smiles at the two of them, reaching his hand out for a shake. The elderly man looks much older than Ben physically. He meets his hand firmly. The old man takes SB in for a second, looking him up and down curiously. 

“Nice to meet you, Sir. Thanks again for letting us stay on your land.”

The older man's eyes widen, holding his finger up to the sky as if he's gotten an idea.

“That’s it,” He beams. “Have you ever been told you look like Soldier Boy?”

A shatter comes from within the trailer. She had been eavesdropping on the conversation as she always does. So much for that new plate. She begins to pick up the mess quickly. Making sure to get all the glass pieces off the floor and into the trash can. Then she makes her way outside.

“Gee, I used to beg my parents for his action figures back in the day. Of course, we were never allowed to have them.” He continues.

Ben stammers on his words for a moment, trying to find the right way to de-escalate this situation. But she swoops in like his knight in shining armor.

“Goodness, I haven't seen you since I was what, sixteen?” She runs up to him, wrapping him in a big hug. 

She and the elderly man walk off into the distance, going to sit on the rickety front porch swing attached to the roof of their trailer.

Ben takes a big sigh of relief, going back in on his cigarette. He walks back over to the car, resting against it, and watching as the two of them catch up with each other. 

Behind him, Ama slips out her phone. She pulls up google, then proceeds to type in “Soldier Boy”. It’s pure curiosity. She’s just wondering if they really do look alike, or if she has to worry about Eduda's dementia. As she scrolls down the image search, she intakes a deep breath, accidentally dropping her phone on the ground. She feels sick as she squats down to pick it back up. He's the spitting image. 

Masterlist | Episode 5 | Taglist

Taglist: @Sl33pylilbunny @Lanassmarty @Sydneyyyya @1-800shootmeplease @muhahaha303 @nancymcl @speedyrebelfan @ghh05ttt @agentorange9595 @let-me-luve-you @peachytits @darkdahl @deans-spinster-witchs-favoritestch @soggybasementfries @ladysparkles788 @madamthemoo @lyarr244 @sadlittlecountessess @mickaelly007 @mrscountryclub @vtheoneandonly @decadentanchorwerewolf @wonderland2022

#the boys fanfic #soldier boy the boys #the boys #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy smut #homelander smut #homelander x reader #homelander #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut

[thatoneluckybee]

OKAY THOUGHTS TIME

This should be more coherent than last weeks where I lost my mind since this episode feels more like a lead-up to the drama rather than the drama itself. Which is exciting!

It’s 6:48 A.M. and they’re heading to school…. y’all I keep forgetting it’s been less than 48 hours since Tyler got kebabed. It’s been well over a year real-time so it’s so easy to forget these kids literally get NO break.

They all look so exhausted :(

Rest In Pieces Logan’s Glasses. He looks terrifying without them, but glad he has contacts. Makes me wonder, will they be broken or intact in the Phantom World? I think they’ll be intact since (if I remember correctly been a few weeks since I’ve reread) once they interact with an object in Phantom World, the Real World stops affecting it. Like the jeep. Also, are we gonna get contacts Logan from now on, will he get a new style of glasses, or will he just replace the lenses in a few episodes? (Also that hurt as a Glasses User who does not wear them as often as she technically needs to I don’t like them sensory eueuhhj. They must be SO expensive)

Again, WHERE IS AIDEN’S MADRE?

Ryan following them again… go away sir.

I can’t tell if Mike was glancing back because he notices Ryan’s car following them or if he was just checking on the Graveyard Gang… but I wouldn’t put it past him to notice they’re being trailed. He’s very observant.

Okay little screaming moment… HDJKWHBJKHJIHJWI THAT PANEL KILLED ME (Everyone looks so DONE and ANGRY and EXHAUSTED and the collective “No.” was GREAT. And then we have Ben looking like a troubled cat that’s just… disappointed. It’s cracking me up)

Logan likes french toast and Taylor likes egg and sausage biscuits, noted.

BARRON GET YO CRUSTY HINEY AWAY BEFORE I SMACK YOU WITH A FLYSWATTER YOU P E S T

They all looked SO COOL telling those losers off. It hurts so much to see how resilient they’ve gotten, honestly. At the start of the series they would’ve been scared or crying, now they’re just mildly irked. They’ve witnessed horrors. (Also boy RUN Ben is about to go FERAL on you)

Logan is scaring me. If they are turning into phantoms, he’s turning fast. It seems triggered by negative emotions…. that could be why Logan and Taylor seem the most affected right now?

Ashlyn is breaking my heart but I’m still so proud of her. Sucks HOW she’s learned to open up but seeing her now compared to the beginning is insane. Purposely avoiding ANY human contact and relationships to dead-seriously asking Logan to stay with her. I love how much she’s grown. And her hand was shaking… she’s getting good at being more vulnerable too!

Barron doin’ the little “I’M WATCHING YOU” sign is too funny to me— AND TAYLOR DOES IT BACK UYHIGYHIGYH I MISSED THAT THE FIRST READ

I WAS FEHWJFRIHIGUJ I NEEEEEED THE MR THOMAS LORE NOW. HOW DOES HE KNOW? Okay actually I have a few possible theories:

He is a part of or has encountered the crane organization. I still can’t still if the origami on his desk was symbolism, foreshadowing, or both.

He’s got eye bags. Could be natural (like mine) or… could Mr. Thomas also be in the Phantom World? Or he was when he was younger? If so, he would be REALLY valuable as an asset for our group. If he was when he was a high schooler as well but escaped that could help too. Now I’m just ITCHING for lore

AUGH I love Red’s pacing but it’s so annoying at the same time. I can TELL we as a collective are staring to figure things out (and as a collective I mean everyone on Tumblr and the Webtoon comments) but we literally just don’t have enough information to fill in the blank spaces without wild guessing. And we have SOME answers but we don’t know what questions they answer yet. Does get me SUPER pumped for the future of the series though!

EDIT: BUZZCUT’S NAME IS RYAN THANK YOU @planetarymesss

#rambles #sbg #school bus graveyard

[ryuichirou]

Isn't Sebek yandere material when it comes to Malleus? Just a thought.

Do you have any Yandere Sebek x Malleus headcanons?

Sebek would make a wonderful yandere, he is psychotic enough as he is lol I think his loyalty mixed with just how unhinged he gets in general would make a very nice combo, because while the usual yanderes are somewhat calculating, and Sebek isn’t stupid by any means, he is still very impulsive and a bit childish, I guess.

We really love yandere themes, as you probably already know, so thank you for asking! Here are some headcanons.

Sebek’s intense feelings for Malleus are usually a nice comic relief, but he could actually get quite dangerous if someone was to seriously mess with Malleus. A lot of times Malleus either tells him to calm down or simply ignores/runs away from him, but if he didn’t and the situation got a bit too far, Sebek would snap. Malleus knows about it, Lilia also knows about it. Silver is very careful and vigilant around him, but he doesn’t realise the full scale of Sebek’s unhingeness.

Sebek is very jealous in general, but neither we nor even his closest people realise just how jealous he is. The moment Malleus gets involved with anyone romantically, Sebek would get overwhelmed by a whole new level of jealousy. Flirting with Malleus is actually even more of a sin to Sebek than trying to attack or assault him. Lilia is the only exception – Sebek respects him and accepts his place by Malleus’ side, he feels unworthy of being jealous with these two. That being said, he really wishes to take Lilia’s spot one day.

Malleus is too powerful, amazing and respectable for Sebek to confront, but he would still make Malleus’ lover’s life a living hell. He would be petty, he would sabotage them, he would try to make Malleus hate this person. He would spend so much energy on this, it’s pathetic. And if Malleus got mad at him, he would stop for a while, but get super bitter – Malleus’ attitude towards him changed because of this person. Which means, this person needs to disappear.

If there was a student who liked stalking and photographing other students, and he got accidentally (or not) caught by Sebek, Sebek would spend all his money on pictures of Malleus. If this isn’t Rook Hunt (lol) and just some rando, Sebek would even break his camera and maybe even mess the guy up. And even though he got these pictures to get rid of them, he won’t be able to: the image of his liege is too otherworldly for him to do something like that. So yeah, he’ll keep them.

Yandere!Sebek sounds like some kind of cultist fanatic who thinks that Malleus’ touch is divine and precious, and he is just like that, but he could also get capricious and selfish with him. He can’t hurt or manipulate Malleus, but he can release his frustrations when he’s having sex with him (if Malleus is foolish enough to let him sleep with him).

In fact, the latter could trigger this whole thing. If Malleus starts sleeping with Sebek, Sebek would jump from “I can’t believe I’m doing this, I’m so unworthy” to “I am the only one who is worthy and everyone (Malleus included) should acknowledge that”. Thank god Malleus is way too strong for Sebek to kill everyone and then him and them himself lol

#replies #headcanons #sebemal

[atom-writings]

how would the main 8 react to you saying something hurtful to them in argument

(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) S/O Says Something Hurtful in an Argument

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N this is from almost a month ago but u guys r being.  So enthusiastic about the stuff i make that . i. Like. there i sMany more. Sore yr about it taking so fuckin long whoopsies

Trigger Warning: Angst, toxic relationships. It’s not that intense though.

“I was just trying to help you-”

“You can’t help anyone, because you can’t think of anyone but yourself!”

Instead of acting like a hurt adult, Alfred is going to act like a hurt child.

Although he’s not crying, it’s clear he’s on the verge on tears while he yells. Once you say something like that, he’s turning up the volume 100%. In his mind, if he can’t hear you, you can’t say something so awful again.

Plus, he’s so overwhelmed with emotion, he can’t do anything but spew petty insults. Once his feelings are seriously hurt, there’s no rational thinking in that argument anymore.

Although he may not seem it, he’s pretty sensitive. It’s not that hard to strike at his weak points and send him spiralling (just because of the power you hold over him.) And once he’s done that spiral, there’s nothing left for him to do but cry and yell.

“What, you’re trying to tell me I deserved this?!”

“God, Arthur! I should’ve listened to what everyone said about you, your family was right!”

Although normally he may just try to escape the situation, in that case, he’s staying to fight. Once you hurt his feelings, he’s pissed off beyond belief.

See, like Alfred, he never really learned how to actually deal with his feelings. Instead of telling you how he feels, how you’re wrong, or just to stop, he’ll just yell over you as much as he can. Although he may be more capable of listening to reason, it’s hard to get through his bombardment of manipulation tactics.

He’ll play the victim, act like he’s done nothing wrong, and throw everything back in your face. Anything to keep his mind on anger, and off of the tears welling in his eyes. Maybe just give him some space, and then he’ll try to apologize.

“How can I trust you when you do things like that?!”

“Ugh, I can’t stand you! You’re always so clingy!”

He’s not even gonna try to be coherent when you something like that. As soon as he’s hurt, here come the waterworks.

As you probably know, he’s very sensitive. So any argument ends up like walking on eggshells. Once he calms down, at least a little, you could talk to him reasonably, But then, he’s even more prone to emotional outbursts. He doesn’t intend to, but he always ends up acting the victim.

So basically, fights have to be super civil or else he’s gonna freak out. Then you have to deal with crying Francis. Immediately. Because you aren’t getting anything else out of him unless you try to backtrack as soon as possible.

“How was I supposed to know it’d go like that-”

“You always talk about your ‘wisdom’” you say mockingly, “but you don’t know anything about the real world!”

Despite a slight raise in tone, it’s hard to tell that what you said really hurt him.  He doesn’t even skip a beat- it’s just right into the fight. Even though he’s trying to grapple with the reality of what you said silently…

He won’t get emotional. If anything, he’ll dispute your insult just as he would any other point you made. But afterwards, when all is said and done, he’ll be a little more sensitive.

Luckily, he’ll actually talk to you about it later. Which is a whole lot easier for both of you. He knows that you can say things that you don’t mean in the heat of the moment, just as he does. Although it hurt his feelings, he tries not to take it too personally.

“I didn’t realize that that would-”

“You know, it’s no goddamn surprise that everyone’s so scared of you!”

Ivan has no problem comforting what you said head on. As soon as you say anything of the sort, he’s quieting. Stepping back from you, he’ll ask “How could you say that?”

Weirdly enough, having his feelings hurt seems to snap him out of anything other than all-encompassing sadness. Any other thing you two were fighting about is immediately out of mind as he questions whether you actually meant your hurtful comment.

And he’ll probably expect you to calm down too. If you continue yelling at him while he tries to register what you truly meant, he’s probably going to either completely shut down or just… leave. For an extended period of time, too.

Even if you resolve the issue in the moment, for a while, he’s going to remain a little upset. It’s definitely going to… alter your relationship just as it changed his view of you.

“I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You may have dated hundreds of women, but I’m finding it very hard to believe you really loved any of them!”

Although it may seem as if it didn’t faze him, that belief lasts only a moment. Feliciano is a sensitive man, after all.

First, he yells. Louder than you’ve ever heard him before. Everything comes spewing out of him at a speed you can barely register, high-pitched as ever. Then, he stops. Regardless of whether you keep speaking or not, he just stops responding.

He’ll try to leave the situation, in any way. Walking away, cutting you off, playing music over your voice, anything. He’ll try to end the confrontation. Which seems frustrating, until you see him start to cry. Even if he wasn’t in the wrong, through sobs, he’ll try desperately to apologize. He can’t believe you’d say something like that…

He’ll listen still while crying, but it won’t do much until you try comforting him. Which, thankfully, always works. After that, he may be more ready to have a civil discussion with you. Even if he’s still a little hurt.

“I was just trying to make sure everything went right!”

“Everyone thinks you’re a pain in the ass, and now I can see why!”

He won’t cry, he won’t scream, he’ll just become… eerily quiet. It seems as if your hurtful words immediately destroyed any spirit left in him to argue. 

Although you can’t see anything stark on his face, it’ll be obvious quickly that you seriously hurt his feelings. Considering how much it injured him, it’ll range from complete monotony, with short awkward sentences to him just leaving.

He doesn’t really know how to react, so he just… doesn’t. It’s hard for him to register what you truly meant by that. It’s probably better that he processes it alone rather than you immediately backtracking and trying to comfort him…

“You’re being unreasonable! Listen to yourself!”

“Ugh, if you’re gonna be like that, maybe you should’ve kept living all alone in that room!”

This’ll be one of the few moments that Kiku truly and drastically reacts to something you did. He’ll first stare in disbelief, unable to process what you’ve said. But after that, he’s more pissed off than ever. How could you disrespect him like that?

Of course, he’d rather not admit that why he’s really mad is because you really hurt him… he’d rather make it a “bigger picture” issue. He might not be able to admit it to himself… that would require releasing how much power you hold over him in that respect.

Although he won’t become irrational and erratic, it’s clear you crossed the line. Now problems from before, problems you thought you had resolved, are being brought into the fray. You’re in for a long night…

#hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #heta tag #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #alfred tag #aph england x reader #hws england x reader #arthur tag #aph china x reader #hws china x reader #yao tag #aph russia x reader #hws france x reader #aph france x reader #francis tag #hws russia x reader #ivan tag <3 #aph italy x reader #hws italy x reader #feliciano tag #aph germany x reader #hws germany x reader #ludwig tag #aph japan x reader #hws japan x reader #kiku tag

[kenobster]

can you explain the appeal of these ship polls to me?

genuinely asking bc i really don’t get why they happen so often or why people take them seriously. it feels like all they do is breed conflict.

what makes everyone feel so strongly about the winners, especially if it doesn’t actually represent the true popularity of the ship? (not that popularity matters bc if it’s fun then it’s fun and everyone is entitled to their feelings and opinions)

not mad or trying to be mean, i genuinely want to understand bc im bad with social cues and at reading people. what is it about them that you like? <3

so like this is actually super funny to me lol because everything you just described has been EXACTLY how I feel about sports (especially regarding American football fans in the United States). I've actually joked a couple times already about how (thanks to this poll) I finally understand what the big deal about the Superbowl is. In fact, over the last week, I've felt a kinship with overworked cashiers who use their fifteen-minute breaks to check the score throughout the day. Every time one of the previous polls taken an unexpected swerve, please picture me jumping up and down and hollering at my computer like I'm some middle-aged white dad yelling at some referee. 😆

My state has two college football teams, both with avid fanbases, and people get SO up-in-arms about it. Even after finding out I have no interest in sports, people have threatened to commit bodily harm against me if they ever catch me wearing merch of the wrong side's team. To be honest, I'm with you — I've always found that kind of attitude to be super aggressive and needlessly rude. Unfortunately.... 😖(insert my walk of shame lol) I have recently acquired an understanding of the psychology behind it....

In other words, I think your confusion is very similar to my confusion about sports. Sports fans, especially in my state, always seem like they would really consider it a dealbreaker if I wear the wrong merch or that they would really punch me in the face if I show support for the wrong team (which does happen to people at some sports games, but I think it's a minority of sports fans who would ever do that). Most of the time, if you get upset by jokes like that, the other person will drop the act and reassure you. But sports fans will never admit they're kidding. 🙄

Anyway, with that context, I think you first must untangle the phrase "people take [shipping polls] so seriously." The truth is that we're not taking it seriously, but, like sports fans, our humor and social cues are probably difficult to read. Especially for someone not "in on the joke," we might look like we're all upset and riled up. We might say things that sound serious and aggressive. But inwardly, we're actually all laughing about it. None of us really care about the results, we're just here to have a good time playfully arguing our sides.

You're probably still wondering why anyone would find enjoyment out of this, so I think it will help if you re-contextualize it into a framework more familiar... Why do people enjoy roller coasters when the purpose of a roller coaster is to trigger your body into a fight-flight response? Why do people watch horror movies or go into haunted houses when the purpose of them is to scare the shit out of people? Why do people enjoy watching or listening to true crime drama when the stories showcase the most barbaric and cruel forms of human nature? Why do people read AITA threads on Reddit, even though they often depict the wildest examples of abuse/toxicity/etc. in human relationships?

It's because all of those examples allow a person to experience stress/terror/anger/etc. in a way that is safe. Roller coasters don't actually kill you. Horror movies have a pause button. Scary things in haunted houses are the work of prop designers and actors. True crime media and AITA threads involve stories that are happening to other people, not you. Similarly, in shipping polls, I think people enjoy having a safe way to channel their feelings about fandom rivalries in a way that is mostly harmless.

Whatever the reason for our enjoyment, however, I think once you realize that none of us actually care about the results, everything else starts to click into place. But here's some answers to your other questions:

Why do we care about the results when they're never accurate? Because we never cared about the results in the first place, hahaha. We care about what's funny. We care about what makes for the juiciest drama. (I mean, think of how funny it was when that final bracket on the Best Star Wars Character poll resulted in victory for Sebulba instead of Obi-Wan! Lmao!) In short, accuracy is boring. Bribing, cheating, and begging in order to skew results is hilarious.

Why are we so mean and hostile to each other? Because we're not actually being mean and hostile to each other.* We're teasing each other. The same way as two best friends might tease each other (example from one friend to another that I literally saw this morning: "oh my god you are SUCH a nerd 😂"). That kind of teasing doesn't work if somebody cares about the subject matter (for example, that joke would NOT be okay if the aforementioned "nerd" had ANY negative feelings about that word). But in the right circumstances, this kind of teasing can feel REALLY good, REALLY fun, and even increase feelings of security within the friendship! In shipping polls, people are probably just exhibiting the communal version of this.**

Why do people care so much about the winners? I don't actually know the answer to this because this is my first time ever enjoying a ship poll, and we haven't gotten there yet. 😅Someone feel free to pitch in.

Why do they happen so often? Probably clout. Beyond that, in order to make a poll, someone has to genuinely be curious about the results. They can theorize, but they can't know what the outcome will be. Not only that, they have to remember that tumblr polls are all fun and games (or else, imagine how incredibly infuriating it would be to see people trolling). People who want accurate results don't use tumblr polls for a reason; they use official surveys instead. In this shipping poll, OP wrote a rule for each round that the results weren't meant to be taken seriously. So I think they enjoy it for the same reasons as we do. That kind of thrill can be addicting lol, and I can see why people would want to recreate it again and again.

In closing, it's been fun, but I don't think another poll like this will similarly compel me. This has just been a one-time thing that I was able to enjoy because of certain circumstances that overlapped with my interests and sense of humor. In truth, I get just as annoyed at the frequency of these polls, and I will likely need a lifelong cooldown after this one concludes. Frankly, if I'd remembered that the final round would be for a week instead of a day, I might have.... well, I might have made different decisions to say the least, lmao.

[*] This is not inclusive of antis. There is no reason to shit on one ship exclusively when there are 5+ other ships in the running. There is especially no reason to threaten the other side with an "electric chair with a built-in guillotine" if they win. That's not fun and games. That's just fucked up.

[**] Because it's a communal version and not a close friendship, it's definitely hard to gauge people's feelings about whether they're okay with being teased. A comment, to one person, might sound like teasing, but, to another, might come across as hurtful and mean. Only intimate friends can really tell the difference (and even they make mistakes). This is definitely unfortunate, but it's kind of a consequence of human behavior in general — not something specific to these kinds of polls imo.

#. #.. #... #.... #..... #answer #anon #codywan #obikin

[descendant-of-truth]

Sora was a big neurodivergent mood in KH3 specifically and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it

It's most prominent towards the beginning of the game, where Sora is asked to follow his heart to open the new world portals, and we see him struggle to do so not once, but twice. (With the same posturing, even)

Like he genuinely cannot think of where to go or what it is in his heart that he's supposed to be following, which is really interesting to me because I don't think we've seen this behavior from him before. But at the same time, it makes sense, because he's basically being asked to use his intuition, which is... pretty difficult to do on command

The two scenes are different in one way though, in that what triggers Sora deciding where to go is different each time. The first time, his subconscious is clearly telling him to visit Olympus, as shown by the way he flexes his muscles like three different times upon hearing the word "hero"

But for one reason or another, it just doesn't fully click with him until Goofy brings up the "may your heart be your guiding key" line. I don't know what exactly is blocking his brain from realizing he wants to go to Olympus but there's definitely Something going on there and I'm endlessly fascinated by it

The second time, he arguably doesn't follow "his" heart at all; he follows Roxas's.

Which yeah this is still him following his own desire to bring Roxas back, but it's interesting how he doesn't keep the focus on himself for very long if he can help it

Though it's not too hard to imagine why considering Donald and Goofy's reactions to his struggles

Acting like he isn't taking things seriously, noting that this particular struggle is becoming routine... like I said, major parallels to what a lot of neurodivergent folk go through.

In general, there's a lot of people thinking Sora should just Know Things without being given clear instructions, and then he tries to get clearer instructions on what to do and he's kinda just given a shrug.

And while Sora does eventually figure this all out, it's without any direct input from the others. It also doesn't help that they spend a lot of the game telling Sora not to follow his heart (which is telling him to help Riku save Aqua) because it would be too dangerous, while also... telling him to follow his heart. But only to accomplish what they need him to do.

Yeah it's no wonder he's still stuck wondering what "following his heart" is supposed to mean by Re:Mind, AKA after he's already defeated Xehanort

Sora is trying so hard in this game to be what people want from him and they're making that super complicated by being unclear on what exactly it is they want him to do. That's not entirely their fault since they don't actually have all the answers, especially Donald and Goofy, but it's clearly affecting Sora regardless.

(Probably unrelated/unintended but the Heartbinder is also odd to me? It's meant to make his "inherent gifts" stronger, the gift in this case being... connecting with others?? I know it's just there as a summoning mechanic but is there a reason Sora needs extra help with this, or a reason Yen Sid thinks he does? Is it because of how he lost his powers?? Does that make it a parallel to a disability aid???)

Also worth noting, though not directly a neurodivergent parallel, Sora's confusion over romantic love in this game (expanded upon in the novels) also falls into the category of "things everyone else just Understands inherently that Sora doesn't"

Quoiromantic Sora my beloved

In conclusion Sora is neurodivergent and it became a lot more apparent in KH3, where he has arguably the vaguest instructions and overall least suitable conditions for him to thrive

#kingdom hearts #kh3 #kh sora #analysis #meta #Personally I'd argue he has autism or ADHD #but I also know that the traits he displays are broad enough to apply to a lot of neurodivergencies and I'm not an expert on any of these #So I just used 'neurodivergent' as a blanket term to encompass more possibilities