#he's also going to make himself sick with indecision

[post-it-notes7]

Did Mirror Falspar brave the den of slovenliness that is Dark's room? Something tells me Dark isn't the type to keep his space orderly... so, I too would be daunted from entering that room.

He's still thinking about it.

#post's rambles #mir falspar #post's doodle bin #galaxy soldier army #mir falspar was once a clean freak and is now more of a resigned organizer #he's also going to make himself sick with indecision

[atsumwah]

about time

featuring : iwaizumi hajime

includes : you being oikawa's sister, brothers best friend trope, a teeny tiny mention of drinking, and you and makki being besties

notes : i legit put iwa and bo in the wheel name spinning thing bcs i was too indecisive to pick and iwa won three in a row....the universe apparently sided with this hunk 2day ! ignore the mistakes if you find any, i’ll fix em laterzzz :)))

being oikawa's sister had its perks.

you're instantly popular, you have boys queuing up to get your number, every girl in the school was nice to you ( though they only wanted to get closer to your brother but you didn't care honestly) so really there wasn't anything you can complain about.

except that you have the biggest crush on your brother's best friend.

it's not that he's just hot, like insanely godly hot, he's also really nice. all the years you've known iwaizumi, there wasn't a moment where he wasn't a gentleman to you, despite being together for so long people might mistake you three as siblings.

like when you were five and fell on your knees, he was the one who ran to get the first aid kit (damn your brother he did nothing but laugh, the audacity)

or when you were thirteen when you were scared to walk alone after school without oikawa because he was sick and iwaizumi offered himself up despite having his classes end way earlier than you (and continues to do so when your brother couldn't accompany you)

or when you were 21, drunk off your ass at a bar and having him pick you up, knowing that his campus was literally halfway across town but still came when he heard you sobbing at the other end of the phone.

the little things he does makes your heart flutter, toes curl and mind only filled with thoughts of him. he's the reason why your standards in men are so high and you aren't going to settle less than any of that. you weren't going to settle if it wasn't him.

even so, you're pretty sure he doesn't see you in the same light. again, you've known each other for years, you basically grew up together, so you're pretty sure he only sees you as his best friend annoying little sister (even worse, he's own little sister)

"why does he have to be like that, makki?" you whine, your head lulling to the right to rest on your best friend's shoulder.

"that being?" he teased, taking a sip from his drink as he eyed you from the side.

"you know, irresistibly hot." you gestured to iwaizumi who was working at the counter, "how am i supposed to move on if i see him everyday?"

"that's your own fault. you know he works here."

you did but that's not the point.

"still," you grumbled out, "thought i was being obvious enough. can't he just, i don't know,reject me?"

"honey, you and i both know he's oblivious as hell. i think you need to spell it out for him to get it."

you groaned, hitting your head against the table again.

"hey, what if i set you up with a guy? maybe you'll learn to move on." makki suggested.

it wasn't like the idea of meeting someone new hasn't crossed your mind before. it's just that, well, they're not him.

"did you miss the part where haji's literally perfect and most men aren't?"

"ahem."

"most men besides haji and you aren't."

"better." he said smugly before continuing. "what if i made sure he checks all your boxes, hmm? i know a lot of people."

"i don't know," you bit your lip, "i guess i trust you…"

"that's a dangerous thing to do, you know?"

your head whipped to the sound of his voice coming from behind you.

"i'm literally your best friend, dude."

"not by choice."

a chuckle escaped your lips at his bluntness.

"hey!"

"what are you talking about and why are you trusting makki with it?"

before you could even answer, makki did for you.

"we were talking about setting her up on a date," he said proudly.

"a date, huh?" he eyed you from the side, "thought you had all the boys lining up your feet, princess."

you're so unfair, hajime. 

"they're not that interesting, i guess." you said instead.

"good. keep your standards high. you can't trust men these days."

"you're literally a man."

"i'm different."

"ahem." makki not so subtly coughed again.

"like I said, i'm different—ow— i will literally kick you, makki."

you only smiled, never agreeing more with a statement. he was different, or maybe there was something different about the way you felt for him compared to anyone else. and as much as you wanted something more with him, you're smart enough to realize that that dream was way out of reach.

maybe going on a blind date wouldn't be the worst idea.

***

"i'm so gonna kill you!"

"what'd he do?" makki said on the other line.

"not only did he criticize what i ordered, he even took some of my food and didn't even ask for it! he said and i quote 'a pretty thing like you can't finish this, right?' you know i don't share food!"

"i’m sorry bout that honey. he seemed pretty cool when i talked to him before. he did looked excited when he saw a picture of you."

"ugh men. that's it, i'm just gonna wait for my prince charming to come."

"so no more blind dates?"

"nope." you clicked your tongue as you opened the door to your apartment. "thanks hiro, i did appreciate the thought. i'm gonna call it a night."

"alright, sleep tight honey."

you removed the phone lodged between your shoulder and ear before dropping through keys in the bowl next to the door.

"you're home early."

you let out a gasp at the sudden intruder, your heart calming down when you realize who it was. "my god, how did you come in?"

"you gave me the keys, dumbass." iwaizumi shook the spare keys in front of you, then settled himself on the countertop. "so how was your date?"

"how'd you know it was today?" you took off your coat and immediately went to the refrigerator, taking out a can of—well two cans— of something that would probably make you forget your date.

"makki's not one to keep quiet, you know."

"right. well, it's a lost cause you could say."

"that bad?"

"yup," you downed it down immediately, wincing at the aftertaste. "what're you doing here anyways? it's late."

"had to make sure you got back safe." he said nonchalantly, "your brother would've nagged me if something happened to you."

"i'm a big girl, hajime. i can take care of myself." you said, annoyed, though your beating heart says otherwise. "pretty sure he's dying for me to get someone. he's always saying how i'm repulsing men."

"we both know that's not true, princess," he says.

ugh there it is again. that stupid nickname that makes you weak in the knees for the man in front of you.

"yeah well…" you started, avoiding his eyes as you spoke, "i appreciate you coming to check up on me but i don't need another brother breathing down my back, alright?"

you expect him to shrug it off or to roll his eyes like oikawa would but instead you're confused at his next words.

"do i really give off that impression to you?"

you turned your head towards him. it almost sounded like he was hurt. "what do you mean?"

"nothing." he says almost instantly after that. "nothing, i just— forget i said anything." and with that he goes off to grab his coat hanging by the rack.

but you were curious. because the way he said it seemed like it was out of surprise. like it's the first time he realized that.

"wait," you grabbed his arm before he could go. "tell me what you mean by that?"

was it the booze that made you act this way too? yeah probably.

" 's doesn't matter. forget it, alright?" he makes a move to leave but tug his arm out. you hold on tighter.

"tell me." you say, persistently. "i’m not letting you go until you tell me. i'll jump on your back right now even."

"let go."

"for someone bigger than my brother you sure are a wimp."

"are you trying to provoke me?"

"is it working?" you said before adding, "wimp."

"it's not working."

you pouted. "it always works with tooru."

"that's because he has a huge ego." he let out a yelp when you actually fulfilled your threat by jumping on his back. "hey, get off!"

"not until you tell me!" you locked your legs around him with your arms around his neck to stay determined. "this usually works on tooru too. only it involves a lot more hair pulling." you said triumphantly, before realizing how close your face has gotten to his. apparently he noticed it too judging by how wide his eyes are and how red he looks up close.

"if i tell you, you might hate me." he whispers, words only for you to hear.

"i could never hate you." that's ridiculous. you were literally in love with him, hello?

he looked uncertain, but eventually gave in when you were still stubborn to let him go.

“...i like you, y/n."

pardon?

"if you're messing with me, i will pull your hair out." you managed to say.

"please don't. mine doesn't grow as fast as your shitty brother."

"you're…for real then?"

"yes."

"then why would you think i hate you?"

iwaizumi winced, like the next few words were gonna be painful. "you said you think of me as a brother."

"because i thought you only saw me as a sister!" you blurted out.

"what?" his big saucer eyes matching your own. "what're you saying?"

"i'm in love with you." you bit your lip and continued on. "i've been in love with you ever since i can remember."

there. it was finally out, no takesies backsies. honestly it felt good to have that in the open. it was like ripping off a bandaid, painful but at the same time, relieving.

but then panic set in when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.

you watched as his face slowly turned red till the tip of his ears and his mouth opening, closing, as if still figuring out what to say. his hands moved first, slowly taking you off of his back and turning your body so you were now hugging him from the front, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"so… we like each other?" he says, lips unbelievably close to your own.

"apparently."

"so if i wanted to kiss you, your would say…" he trails off, eyes solely focusing on your lips.

"i'd say it's about damn time, haji." you mimicked his movements.

"about damn time," he mutters before claiming your lips with his.

about damn time indeed.

#haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu! #hq fluff #hq iwaizumi

[netherfeildren]

FEAR OF GOD: Chapter VIII: The Fisher King

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Teach me how to ask for forgiveness, even when I know I don’t deserve it. 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: angst; PTSD; very brief mention of infertility in the first section, description of injury

A/N: Art is Breach by Keith Perelli (2006-2007)

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VII: The Fisher King

But still. Still.

Bless me anyway.

I want more life. I can’t help myself. I do.

I’ve lived through such terrible times, and

There are people who live through much worse, but… You see them living

anyway. When they’re more spirit than body, more sores, than skin, when they’re

burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in

the corners of the eyes of their children,

they live. Death usually has to take life 

away. I don’t know if that’s just the animal. 

I don’t know if it’s not braver to die. But I 

recognize the habit. The addiction to being 

alive. We live past hope. If I can find hope

anywhere, that’s it, that’s the best I can do.

It’s so much not enough, so inadequate but

…Bless me anyway. I want more life.

-Tony Kushner, Angels in America

“Do you think you’ve been happy, so far?” you ask her one night. 

“I think so, yes. Have you?” Her answer is immediate. She’d never been one for much indecision – that was always your role.

“Yes. At times. I’ve also been very sad.”

“Me too.” You can hear it now, that sadness, in the quietness of her voice.

“I hope we can be happy in the future. That we’ll be together, always.” The two of you are laying under the stars, hidden in the forest, in your old sleeping bags. She says the trees guard you, keep you safe. If you’d had more experience, you’d have felt very close to death in that moment. 

“We will be. Don’t worry about that.”

“I don’t want either of us to die,” and you can hear how young you sound, how naive. Despite all you’ve been through, you’ve not been able to let go of that part of yourself. When you’re older you will think that, perhaps, that was not such a bad thing. 

“We won’t. That won’t happen.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can. I have a plan. If we stick to it, we’ll be okay.”

“Alright.” Your trust in her is implicit, after all. 

She is very quiet for a while after that, you think she’s fallen asleep, but then suddenly: “You know, I can’t have children.” 

“How do you know?”

“Things were off – Dad was able to run some tests.” That sadness is there again, echoing in her voice, and it is a very painful thing to hear from someone you love so much – someone you know would want that for themselves. 

“I’m sorry.” For there is nothing else to be said in light of such a tragedy for her. She would make a wonderful mother.

“It makes me really sad.” There’s quiet again, for a long time, but then: “I know it’s a terrible world. Not safe – but still… It makes me very sad.” 

“I’ll have one for the both of us. We can share.”

One of the last times you ever hear her laugh – you should have cherished the sound more – branded it in your memory. “I’d like that.”

Beth is dead two days later. 

-

He sits by your sick bed for days. Shrouded in darkness, he lets his fear, his nightmares swallow him whole – the great gaping maw of a monstrous dream come to fruition. He thinks of Sarah’s mother, his ex-wife, for some reason – can’t understand why she comes to his mind in this moment, honestly. He hasn’t thought about her in decades, that woman he’d known so long ago – can hardly remember her face now. It makes him indescribably sad.

He’s trying to prevent his mind from dissociating. To keep himself present, in case you wake, in case you need him. But the sight of you, small and pale and broken. So still. It fractures his mind in a way he cannot understand. The days of you being lost – of his mad flight to find you, out with teams of hunters, combing the forest for any sign of you, the way he’d screamed at Maria and Tommy and Ellie and anyone else who got too close, spoke too loudly. He’d been extremely close to violence, of the unimaginable sort. That terrible last night, his own destruction, flashing over and over and over in his mind, the things he’d said to you. He could not compare the terror to anything else he’d ever experienced before. The pure horror of that being the last memory you’d ever have of him, of coming across your dead, mangled body, of never seeing your bright, unguarded smile again – in decades filled with fear, day in and day out, he now felt he’d been infected with the most unimaginable of diseases. A stabbing, bone melting pain to his mind, his heart, his flesh, again and again, all of his own making. 

This is his fault. He did this to you. Pushed you away. Made you feel like you needed to flee, escape him. He wants to be angry with you for being so stupid, for going out there without him. But how could he not understand it – for what choice did he give you? That you’d prefer to face the monsters out there, rather than the one inside, the one in front of you – rather than him. He thinks he too would rather face the horrors out there, a thousand infected, than face himself. Face his own guilt, his own shortcomings. 

He still isn’t speaking to Maria – can barely look at her. He’d told her if you were dead it’d fall on her head. That he’d blame her for it forever. It was a viciously unfair, nasty thing to throw at her when he’d been the one to push you away, the one to tell you to leave, when this was really all his fault alone. 

He thinks of Tess – how he’d not been able to keep her safe either, all that time ago. A regret so profound, he’s sure he’ll swim in it for the rest of his miserable life. 

Ellie had said sending you away that night had perhaps been the worst thing he’d ever done. The sight of you in this bed proves that fact, and he is filled with a rage so black, so all consuming, it cripples him, will send him to his grave if you don’t come out of this. 

He hasn’t slept in days. Merely closing his eyes to rest his racing mind a few moments at a time. The baby you’d had with you has been with Maria. Tiny, squealing, rageful thing that she is. She only quiets when Maria brings her into your room, lays her beside your sleeping form. As if she knows already, even now, that the best place in the entire world is at your side. He closes his eyes in the quiet interminable moments of waiting and tries to picture Sarah’s mother in his mind. To remember her face. He cannot. There’s only a flash of dark curls. The sound of her voice, gone to time. All he can conjure with clarity is the image of Sarah’s smiling face that last morning he’d spent with her. His most precious memory. Something he exercises in his mind every morning when he wakes, lest, he too, forget that. He wonders if she’s still alive, what happened to her after the outbreak. He hopes she survived – hopes she lived a life not too full of terrible, painful things. Although, he isn’t entirely sure there exists any other version of this life anymore. He hopes he can find it, if it does, and give it to you, if you’ll let him.

He looks back at your resting form. The welts and scrapes that had marred the side of your face are healing well. The swelling receding into angry bruising. Nancy was worried you’d sustained a head injury, as an explanation for your prolonged unconsciousness, but neither the bones in your face, nor your skull were broken. Perhaps only a mild concussion, she thought. It inclined her to believe this was simply a side effect of the blood loss you’d endured from the wound in your side, the exhaustion and trauma.

Joel thinks he might become a religious man after this. Thinks he might start going to church, prostrating himself at the effigy of the cross to thank whatever higher power there exists for bringing you back to him, keeping you alive, allowing him another chance to see that smile, even if it’s never directed at him again. Because that is something else he is terribly afraid of. That his last words to you that night, will be the only thing you’ll ever be able to remember of him. All you’ll ever be able to see of him, going forward. He is so, so afraid of the consequences of his own terrible actions. Terrified that the moment he cast you away will be the only moment the two of you live in together for the rest of your lives.

And he thinks: Joel Miller, you are a man made up of fears. 

-

The first thing you see when you finally open your eyes again are his hands. They’re scarred. Tiny, faded marks of a life past, marring the lines of a map of all his pain, his history. Your body hurts, one large throbbing bruise. But the fire in your shoulder, the muscles of your back and arm, has abated. You say a silent prayer of thanks that you’d been able to keep from straining it more. Any more damage and you’d have probably lost function of the limb entirely.

His eyes are closed, his temple pressed against his fist on the arm of the chair pulled up to your bedside. The house is entirely silent – dark and peaceful. You stretch your legs under the blankets, no terrible amount of pain, and his eyes spring open immediately at the subtle sound of your shifting. So attuned to you, that the mere rustling of the sheets brings him to wakefulness. You watch the dilation of his pupils, everything else frozen in place. Head still resting against his fist, he stares at you wide eyed and unblinking. You take in his face – his eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in the harsh purple bruising of exhaustion. His too long, messy curls lie limply across his forehead. He looks haggard, wrung dry. The most defeated you’ve ever witnessed him. Neither of you say anything as you study the other. He still hasn’t moved and the look in his eyes – afraid, resigned, like you’re a predator about to come in for the kill strike. 

You feel indescribably sad for him, seeing him like this. Brought down low. It’s wrong. Not an image of the Joel you know that should exist in the world. You’re sure you mustn’t look much better. Broken, the both of you, in this shared moment. You slowly start to slide your palm across the bed towards him, and like a flip bringing him back to life, he melts onto the ground from the chair. Coming to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed, he grasps your outstretched hand and presses his forehead into your palm, his grasp so, so gentle. His other hand snakes up, under the blankets to grip your bare knee in his warm palm, his thumb slowly sweeps over the bend.

His shoulders begin to jerk, in tiny little gasps. He’s crying.

“I was so afraid.” It is choked and guttural, a confession of the highest order, an admission of weakness, a supplication for mercy, for forgiveness. 

You know that his words are all encompassing. He was afraid that night, when the two of you were attacked, when he told you he loved you, when he sent you away, when he couldn’t find you. He’s been afraid for decades, since the moment he met you, since the moment his daughter died. Your heart cleaves in two at the sight of his defeat. The hot slide of his tears through the spaces between your fingers, pooling in the cup of your palm, the liquid feel of them burns you, incites a violence in your heart to rise up at the sight of his suffering, of his pain. But you say nothing. Too weighed down by your own terror, your own pain. 

By the prospect of having to tell him the truth. The secret you’ve been carrying with you, that you’re pregnant. Terrified of his reaction. Of his possible rejection. For it isn’t just you anymore that would feel the loss of him. There’s two, three, of you now. And you’re terrified of having to ask him to bear this with you. Don’t want to have to ask. And part of you knows, is positive, that he’ll be there for you without you ever having to even ask. That there would be no question of it. No other alternative. That if anything else, the man before you is honorable and good – despite his violence, despite his sins, despite his fear, he is good. He would never abandon you to face this alone. But still, you’re afraid. Just as he is, just as he has been. So you say nothing, simply bring your other hand up to cup the back of his bent head. 

There are no words that could fit in the quiet space of your room in that moment – so swollen is it with all your shared fears, all the things left unsaid. You let him cry. 

-

Ellie finds him sitting on his front porch, guitar in hand, strumming gently – a mug sits by his side. There is no fight to be had now, this she knows. Perhaps no reconciliation, either – not at this moment. But there is much to be said, still, or even perhaps, merely silence to be shared. This is her olive branch. In the days since your disappearance, and then since you’d been found, recovering, she’s had a lot of time to think. To consider her choices. 

“Hey.” The look on his face as he watches her walk up guts her – so full of reluctantly glad surprise. 

“What’re you drinking?”

“Coffee.”

Of course. “Where’d you get that?”

“Uh… those people that came through last week. A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but … it’s not bad.”

“Oh,” she’s slightly at a loss for what to say, how to continue. Their once easy banter seems so unreachable with so much laying between them. “You need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.”

“Okay,” he says succinctly – like he’s not going to take her incendiary bait. He looks away, considering what he’s about to say next. “Dina. Is she your girlfriend?”

And nope, she sure as fuck hadn’t been expecting that one. “No! She – That was just one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything,” she denies, referring to the kiss he’d accidentally witnessed last night when he was on his way home from trying to see you. “She just… I don’t know why she did that.”

He tilts his head contemplatively, gives her a knowing look. “You do like her.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

And she knows she told herself she didn’t come here to fight, but he’s so damn aggravating and nosy, she can’t help it. “You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m not trying to –”

“Just – just leave it.” She snaps, looking out at the dark road. “Have you been in to see her today?” Veering towards less conflictive ground. 

“Nancy didn’t let me in, said they were both restin’.” He drags his hand tiredly over his face, “Haven’t had much of a chance to talk at all.”

“But before… how’s she been?”

“On the mend – tired, I think. Nance said she’s recovering well. But quiet. She– she doesn’t much want to see me, to be honest …” Maria had said you’d been withdrawn. Not really wanting to see anyone besides Nancy and the baby.

“That was – When we couldn’t find her… Scared the fuck out of me.”

He looks down into his mug of coffee, his jaw shifting side to side, “Yeah… yeah. I– it was–” She knows he can’t discuss it, can’t even voice the terror that gripped him at the thought of losing you. Something about the confirmation of knowing how much he loves you, settles something within Ellie. Reinforces the resolve in her heart. 

“Not just for her though. I was scared for you too.” The look he gives her then – she sees that flicker of desolation she was so scared he’d be lost to forever if you’d not come back – if you’d died. There isn’t much left in Ellie that’s overly sentimental, but she could cry at the relief of knowing you’re okay, the both of you. 

“Kate’s cute as fuck,” she smiles. 

“She is… got those big blue eyes.”

“What are you gonna do? With them?”

“Not much I can do, I guess. ‘Cept take care of ‘em. Keep ‘em alive. If she’ll have me…”

“Love them,” she adds, and he hums in agreement, tilting his head a bit. No point in hiding it, he’s gone soft, everyone knows now, might as well embrace it. Put up a sign. “Well,” she continues, “We both know you’re good at doing that, at least,” her eyes are full of laughter, full of memories. “Taking care of misbehaving girls that can’t ever do what they’re told.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, kiddo. You listened sometimes.”

“Yeah…” she chuckles, “You’re right, there was the rare occasion.” Her grin is roguish.. 

“Guess I’ve got enough practice ‘bout now, don’t I?

She goes suddenly serious, “Do you ever feel ashamed? When you remember what you did?” The question is abrupt, as if she wasn’t expecting herself to ask, but couldn't help it. She could be referring to so many things, so many sins. 

He thinks about the day after Sarah died, when he’d been so ready to follow her to whatever end. His mind shies away from the memory – that is shame –  a wound healed over, but still tender if pressed on too harshly. But he considers it now, in light of her question, how the overwhelming feelings driving that choice had been acceptance in that instant. A readiness to be done with all that continuing in a world without his daughter promised. Fate had granted him the opportunity to flinch, a chance he’d then passed on as a gift to Ellie. No matter how she saw it, he’d given her a chance to flinch. Something perhaps, one couldn’t recognize had they never consciously held that cold gun in their hand, pressed it to the tender nook of their temple and looked their own mortality in the face. But he’d given it to her, and not even an entire life of reliving all he’d endured as of yet, could ever, ever make him regret that choice. A parent did what they could to give their child the gift of choice. That was, in the end, the only thing one could do. The gift of choice, something he now had and so arrogantly squandered. Birdie was his choice. Fate had given him a gift once again, now he had to consciously decide to flinch or not. 

“No. Never.” There is no doubt – no room for doubt. “I told you once, if I ever had the chance to do it again, I’d do it exactly the same.” There was a space where one could exist with their sins and not resent them. Joel knew it well now. There was only one road that had led him to this moment, to this place. He could not regret the decisions that’d brought Ellie to this life of peace and safety. That had brought him to your door. You had never felt like a sin. The sight of you, it made him calm, so free. There had been fear, too much of it, but never regret, never shame alongside your name.

“Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?” he asks her, and he can see the question takes her aback, a second of shock crossing her face. It’s all the answer he needs – for the thought to never have even entered her mind. She shakes her head, sharp and quick, “No.” She pauses, and then says, “Fuck your fear, Joel. If that’s what’s keeping you from her you have to let it go. It’ll be the thing to kill you in the end. Maybe not dead in the ground, but in a worse way.”

“I know…I know, Ellie.”

And so what if he had been afraid? In a world, a life, overrun with the worst possible outcome playing out in real time, what was one more terror? He realized it wasn’t the fear of loss that held him back. It was the fear of himself. Of his own inadequacy, his own monstrousness. Because he’d already lost you. Could feel the current loss of you, your absence, acutely. Like a gaping, putrid wound. The days you’d been missing, that he’d been so fucking terrified that he’d never see you again, that you were dead, as he searched desperately for you – he was already experiencing that which for so long was the reason for his denial. And he could think of nothing now that could be worse than not having you. Of knowing his little bird was existing out in the world and that he couldn’t touch you, hold you, kiss you. Fuck his fear indeed. 

What did it matter if the world was vast and cruel if, in the end, they had one another?

“I struggled a long time with surviving. And no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for, something to be brave for,” he repeats his long ago words to her.

“You keep going for family… And she’s family.”

“Yeah… she is.”

“All this, it can’t have been for nothing.”

“It’s not. It won’t be.”

Existing in a grave for all those years, only to be violently pulled awake by a forest fire of a little girl – it changed the nature of a man. His nature had been changed irrevocably. And he needed to give this new version of himself to you now, in its entirety. And what struck him most was that despite all this, despite all he’d changed, lost and grown, since the start of all this, since Sarah died – who he was hadn’t entirely been determined yet. There was still possibility within him. There was still hope for more. And you saw that, you’d always seen that. 

In a sudden startling way, he could perceive what he was, what he lacked, what he could be. You shared that perception; your vision of him was another gift. What was it about this sudden acute sense of self perception that was so close to madness, and how was it that suddenly, when you realized you were in love, it was as if you were able to see the world as it really was? Cordyceps had blanketed the earth in a film of death that he now saw in spectrums. There was a spectrum to death as it existed in the world, as what you allowed it to shape itself, and you, as. How did you perceive death – loss? How did you let it affect you when it inevitably touched your life? Was it to overwhelm you – or exist alongside you as simply another phenomena of nature? He could exist on that spectrum set about by nature or he could break free from it. Cordyceps – and all humanities’ basest desires it catered to – could go on existing, could continue to subjugate the world to its will, but he would break free from that subjugation of fear, of death, of failure, he would live his life now as he chose to. He could perceive with such clarity now what was real and what was not. His little bird was real and alive and waiting for him. This was no delusion, no farcical whim; it was a glance down into time – into the realities he’d once known and lived in, a world before calamity and fungus and dead little girls – and it wore the staggeringly beautiful face of you, a glance at the woman he loved. 

“She’s angry with me. I– I hurt her.”

“Hmm… True… but she isn’t like us… she’s good. Kind. She’ll forgive you. She understands you.”

“Perhaps,” he says, but he isn’t sure, is terrified of the alternative, will try and make it up to you for the rest of his life if you need him to. 

“Maybe time’ll be the thing to heal this wound” 

He pauses at that, “It wasn’t time that healed it… remember?” The memory of their past hangs, once again, heavy in the air, but perhaps now, in this moment, a bit lighter than before. 

She shakes her head, gives him a small smile, “I remember.”

 She’s quiet for a moment, pensive. He’d missed her so much. This easy casual nothingness between the two of them. Just being together, talking. And as he takes her in, her chin tipped to the breeze, eyes closed, he thinks: if he could have done it all again, he would have loved her better. Perhaps made better choices. But he could not have loved her more. 

How broken, how small he must have been, just a short time ago, to have found that thought so difficult to confess, even just to himself. 

“Go find her, Joel. Tell her what you need to tell her.”

Chapter IX

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#FoG fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

[diasomniaimagines]

Housewardens opinions regarding MC with tattoos

Riddle Rosehearts

His opinion comes down to if the tattoo has a meaning behind it. Even for someone as straight-laced as him, tattoos to commemorate something are beautiful

Does NOT like the idea of tattoos "Just Because"

Has a preference for tattoos with flower imagery

Will not go with you to get a tattoo, and certainly will not get any of his own

Leona Kingscholar

Does not care if there is a deeper meaning

You have a sleeve of a tiger because it looks cool? Fine by him

Enjoys tattoos that display a sense of strength, such as ones with animal imagery

Will go with you to get a tattoo if he does not have anything better to do

He already has a tattoo on his bicep, but is open to getting more eventually

Azul Ashengrotto

Your tattoos do not bother him, and he understands the appeal of ones that are simply aesthetically pleasing

Prefers tattoos that reflect natural imagery

Is a very busy man, but will make time to go with you to your tattoo appointment, if only for the potential to gather information that this poses. Who knows who he might see getting up to something while out and about?

Does not have any tattoos of his own. He says that it is to preserve his public image, but he is actually afraid of the needles. He will never admit this

Kalim Al-Asim

Thinks that tattoos are pretty! He finds them really interesting to look at, and asks a lot of questions

He just wants to make sure that you had your tattoos done in a reputable shop, and is worried that it may have been scary if you went alone

Does not have much of a preference as to what your tattoos look like, but would definitely prefer something with intricate detailing and patterns for himself

His "tattoos" are actually a form of body paint similar to mendhi

Would absolutely go with you to get a tattoo to ensure you are in good hands

May eventually get some of his own, but as of right now is far too indecisive to pick one

Vil Schoenheit

Much like Kalim, is concerned with the shop and artist that provided the tattoo

Does not mind your tattoos, so long as they are not too outlandish

Classic designs appeal most to him

Does prefer tattoos that have a personal meaning to them

Have you seen this man? He's an influencer. His whole career comes down to following and promoting trends. Even if he were to get a tattoo, it would fall out of fashion regardless of the design far too quickly to make that investment. However, he will accompany you, if only to scope out the establishment and ensure that you are cared for properly

Idia Shroud

Thinks that flashy designs are really cool!

Finds your meme tattoo hilarious

Would eventually like to get a tattoo to commemorate a favorite series of his

Has no pain tolerance and will not go through with getting the tattoo

Will not accompany you to the tattoo shop, mostly due to how cramped they are. You can't expect this man to stand around for who knows how long while you get a sick tat done in the presence of strangers.

Malleus Draconia

Is quite fond of the concept of getting a tattoo. It's beautiful for something to mean so much to you that you commemorate it on your own body

Did not consider getting tattoos until he saw yours. Now he wants to get ones that match

Has two favorite archetypes of tattoos: floral and gothic

Will end up with a gargoyle tattoo at some point. He will hide it as long as possible from his retainers, partially for the amusement of it and also partially to avoid them becoming worried

Would follow you anywhere with no questions asked. He will accompany you to get a tattoo at a moment's notice.

#malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomfiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #diasomniaimagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst #twst memes #twst headcanons

[lyly04s]

You’re losing me (Leon Kennedy x reader)

Part 2 to tolerate it (link below)

(Again very very sad)

“You say I don’t understand and I say I know you don’t”

He didn’t want to talk about it “answer me please” tears still in her eyes “just fucking say anything!” She screamed. “I-I don’t understand” he said “I know you don’t” she got up before walking to there bedroom. She laid down on there shared bed for hours but he never came in. She sobbed she wanted them to be like how they used to when she was happy it hadn’t been the same since they got engaged he refused to even make plans for there wedding.

“I’m getting tired even for a phoenix always rising from the ashes”

She didn’t make dinner the next night. She didn’t clean. She simply sat on the couch with a bottle of wine and watched whatever sitcom was on. He walked in expecting dinner and a clean house but no there was none of that she truly was sick of his shit. “You didn’t cook?” He asked confused. “No didn’t feel like it” she responded before taking a sip of wine. “I’m hungry though” he said. “Then make your own damn food I’m tired” she said not even looking at him.

“How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying?”

She laid in bed she felt his side of the bed dip with his weight he still wouldn’t hold her. She knew the second he put his arms around her she would give up the cold act but he wouldn’t do it he was to proud to apologize. She truly felt like she was dying she knew there love was dying she rolled onto her side and silently cried into her pillow. She felt him shift slightly closer to her still not close enough to touch her but closer than he’s been recently.

“And the air is thick with loss and indecision I know my pain is such an imposition”

He truly was losing her. He would never admit it but he felt terrible he had pushed her this far. She hadn’t cooked in a week there was no groceries in the house. The house was messy she also hadn’t cleaned. He wanted to hug her, kiss her and beg on his knees for her. He couldn’t take seeing her so sad but he couldn’t push himself to apologize he had to much pride to big of an ego.

“And I wouldn’t marry me either a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her”

He came home the next night to see she had made him dinner she was wearing something besides sweatpants for the first time in weeks he sat down at the table “I want to say sorry for exploding on you that night I understand that you’re busy” she was apologizing to him? He thought it should be the other way around but he would take the apology “it’s ok I promise” he said before he started eating. In reality she only apologized so they would stop ignoring each other she knew he would never do it he could never let his ego go. She hated herself for forcing herself to apologize to him when she’s the one who deserved an apology but she couldn’t lose him no he was all she had now.

“And I’m fading thinking do something babe say something”

He still wouldn’t hold her still wouldn’t kiss her still wouldn’t make love to her she felt like they were going in a circle “am I not enough for you?” She asked him one night he wouldn’t answer the question she wanted to scream at him again but it ended badly last time she really was trapped in a loveless relationship. It was awful she hated herself for this she blamed herself.

“You’re losing me”

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil infinite darkness #youre losing me

[drunkenlionwrites]

Little hc on which love songs from my playlist I associate with Trigun boys

Vash

For Vash it's a pining song, cause I think it will take him the longest time to confess to anyone and he will be so lost in his thoughts and insecurities, but still having a liiiitle bit of positive outlook on this, maybe a pang of hope? So song is not really sad, rather bittersweet feelings of someone crushing really hard and not knowing what to do next. Lyric match Vash really good as well. Overall, a very cute song. Also, who is Vash if not a pleaser?

"Quite the people pleaser

If only I could please her"

and

"Indecisive feelings of enjoyment

Hold that thought, I think I need a moment

I'm aware there's something I should tell you

But my voice annoys me

Bite my tongue off with a smile

I can't feel it anymore"

Millions Knives

This is a dark and somber love song, inspired by Christian religious themes. If Knives could love someone else besides Vash, his love would be just as encompassing and obsessive. But he's still full of self-doubts each step, while he's trying to gaslight his crush and himself that they're a perfect match. It's also full of intricate setences, which Knives would appreciate for sure.

"I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?

Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick" and

"Found you just to tell you that I made it real far

And that I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did

While you were torn apart

I would still wait with you there" my favorite is "Am I making you feel, am I making you feel sick?

Nicholas D. Wolfood

Nick can think that he's oh so mysterious and impossible to read, but he's a simple man on the inside. With a desire to protect and nurture, just like an older brother would. If he falls in love, he falls hard. He is also surprisingly casual and composed about it. I think once he recognizes his feelings, he will have no issues confessing, while still not believing if his love is reciprocated. "You're making me crazy

Really driving me mad

That's all right with me

It's really no fuss

As long as you're next to me

Just the two of us"

and

"Sweetheart

I'm feeling so tired

Really falling apart

And it just don't make sense to me

I really don't know

Why you stick right next to me

Wherever I go"

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun headcanons #trigun x reader #vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #millions knives x reader #vash the stampede #millions knives #nicholas d. wolfwood #Spotify

[writingformyblorbos]

It's cloudy above (Part 1) [next chapter >]

Steven Grant × gn!Reader (possible Marc × Reader and Jake × Reader in the future) Summary: You spot the cute man from the bus while buying groceries and try talking to him. A strange encounters takes place later on. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: Mugging, canon-typical violence (death, guns, you know the drill), swearing in Spanish, not proof read (taking risks is my speciality not really). a/n: This is my first fic in a loong while, but I wanted desperately to write something for Steven and make a shameless self-insert. I just love him so much. Also, I don't think I'll want to see the word mushroom in a long while. Lastly, I want to apologize in advance if i got the intricacies of London's public transport wrong, I tried to do my best as a foreigner with the most research I could. I hope you enjoy:)!!

It was late in the afternoon on Sunday, and you had gone to your nearest Tesco to stock up on groceries. You were on the vegetable isle, looking for some items from the shopping list on your phone. As you were reading what the next item on your list was, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. When you looked up, you saw the back of a man with curly hair you swore you could almost recognize. When he turned around, you couldn’t believe your eyes. ‘Could it be? There’s no way,’ you told yourself. But it was. It was him; the cute guy from the bus you had a crush on.

You would see him often on your way to work, always having dark bags under his eyes, adorned by the messy curls in his head. He seemed like the shy type, and the poor man always looked totaled, like he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in a long while, often falling asleep on the bus; there was even one time he screamed and looked frightened, which was weird, but you figured was because he'd had a nightmare. Who doesn't dream a clown is chasing them every now and again? You didn’t know that much about him, only that he would get off on Trafalgar Square and that he was a person keen on history and other intellectual stuff, judging by the hieroglyphs on his phone case and the kinds of books he would occasionally read on the bus to keep himself awake, poetry and history books of the sort —always wearing his reading glasses, of course— yet your little knowledge of him and his generally disheveled appearance didn't stop his sharp jaw, his curly hair, his beautiful brown eyes, and his intriguing interests from drawing your attention, leading you to develop a crush on him. He was the whole package, after all (smart and handsome).

But one day, he stopped boarding the bus. You figured he'd gotten a day off or he was sick, but days turned into weeks, and eventually, it had been a while since you'd last seen him. Maybe he'd switched jobs or had moved. Either way, he wasn't a part of your life anymore.

Or so you thought, up until today, seeing him going about his errands. You stared at him in disbelief. He still looked as tired as ever, you could even say he looked more tired, like he'd been working out an entire week non-stop. You wanted to ask him so many things, but there was no way you could ask him why he no longer took Bus 24 without sounding like an absolute creep. You contemplated on whether it was better to leave him alone or if you should try talking to him, but this feeling in your gut told you this might be your chance: what if you never saw him again and just lost the opportunity of a lifetime? So, you started brainstorming any kind of small talk you could spark up in the supermarket without it being awkward. Then bingo! He was holding two packets of mushrooms: one was a packet of normal mushrooms, and the other was a packet of sliced mushrooms, and he was looking at them indecisively. You could help him and go from there?

You felt absolutely ridiculous, but you had to. Your conscience would never leave you alone if you didn't. So, you mustered up all the courage you could and made you way towards him. You took a deep breath, trying to stop your hands and legs from shaking, and said:

"If I were you, I'd get the sliced ones."

"Sorry?" he asked, a bit startled by the sudden comment.

"Oh! I just, I would get the sliced mushrooms. They really help you save up time. Unless you have skewers, then you can just..." —you gestured your hands as if you were pricking an imaginary mushroom with your imaginary skewer— "stick it in the mushes and slice them".

He looked at you a bit confused, but you could also see a glimpse of surprise in his eyes.

"That's quite impressive, seems like you know your mushrooms," He chuckled, leaving the normal mushrooms in the bin they were. "I don’t happen to have skewers back at home, so I guess I'll just take the sliced ones, more practical. Thank you"

"No problem," you smiled.

Great, what now? That wasn't the most captivating conversation starter you could bring up. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to try talking to him, 'he probably thinks I'm a weirdo for talking about mushrooms' you told yourself, so you decided to turn around and get back to your business.

"Wait!" You heard from the dark-haired man, "do you happen to take Bus 24 in the mornings?"

No way. There's no way he actually recognized you. Now that you thought about it, what if he thought you were stalking him? I mean, you weren't, but anxiety often leads you to the most extreme trains of thought.

"Uhh, yeah! Yeah, I do," you answered, nervously waiting for him to get angry.

"That's mental! I remember you. You watch videos of cute animals, yeah?" He immediately looked flustered, like he regretted what he'd said, "I mean, not that I eavesdropped on what you were doing on your phone. I only saw it once."

You were relieved he wasn't angry, but also a bit amazed he'd remembered that small detail. He said he didn’t eavesdrop, but that was clearly a lie. Watching cute animals was a must in your daily commute to work though. You could see he was a bit embarrassed by his comment, so you tried to reassure him.

"Oh no, no worries. I once saw you reading a book on Ancient Egypt, right?" he affirmed with his head and seemed to be a little less afflicted, so you tried breaking the ice a bit more. "My name is (y/n). (y/n) (l/n)" you said as you offered your hand for a handshake.

He shook your hand back, with his big, calloused hands, "Steven Grant. The Steven is with a 'v'"

Steven. ‘A pretty name and very fitting,’ you thought. He indeed looked like a Steven.

"It's nice to finally know your name, Steven with a 'v'".

“Likewise, (y/n),” he nodded back, and you both stayed silent for a while, smiling and blushing.

"Well, I'll see you around then. Cheers!" he waved off. There he was, again, slipping through your fingers, like sand on the desert. Come on, had you really gone through embarrassing yourself by talking about mushrooms to just see him walk off? Steven was such a mystery, but one you wanted to know oh so desperately. It was now or never, you had to try to ask him out, or at the very least get his phone number.

"Hey! Uhm..." You called out. Steven turned his head and looked at you with those gorgeous eyes of his that made you feel all jittery inside.

"I was wondering if, I know we just formally met, but..." you started fidgeting with the keys in your pocket, trying to get the words to come out of your mouth, "Could we exchange numbers? I would really like to see you again, and I know this place that makes amazing pastries, so maybe... we could go out?"

That was it. You shot your shot. The ball was in his court now. There's nothing else you could've possibly done. It was only up to fate if—

"Yes, I'd love too."

Your eyes probably shot out of your face, similar to a cartoon, because of the way he looked at you, with a tiny bit sweet grin on his face. You were absolutely over the moon. He said yes! You swore you would’ve danced in the middle of the veggie aisle if it wasn’t considered something weird to do.

Still, you managed to stay calm on the outside and exchanged numbers with Steven. Finally, each one went on about their shopping. But on your way home, you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach thinking about the next time you would see handsome Steven Grant again. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long.

By the time you’d finished placing the groceries in their place, the sun had gone down, adorning your windows with London’s city lights.

You were sitting on your couch, scrolling through your social media. One of the hottest topics of the moment was the latest hero-related incident: some people started dropping dead for no reason in Cairo, which would be shocking news if the world didn’t seem like it was on the verge of ending every couple months. Apparently, a cult had been behind the attack, and there were two heroes involved. One was a woman with curly hair and her suit had golden wings, people started calling her the Scarlet Scarab, and there was this other man with moon motifs who seemed to be able to go from a full-on costume with cape to a fancy suit; people hadn’t come up for a name for him, yet. If it was up to you though, you’d call him the Moon Shifter, or something along those lines. You were glad you weren’t in charge of naming superheroes.

Tired of reading about this latest tragedy, you stood up and opened the nearest window to admire the nocturnal landscape, a cold breeze hitting your face; it felt oddly comforting. You glanced around the street. Nothing was out of the ordinary, just the usual noise of cars passing by. You felt as though the city was luring you out of your flat to go on some moonlit adventure around its streets.

You figured you wouldn’t be going on an adventure, but you sure as hell were starving and didn’t feel in the mood to cook, but there was a Chinese restaurant not far from your place you could get some takeout from. Determined to get your dinner, you grabbed your coat, a pair of shoes, your tote bag, and headed out into the windy streets.

As you were walking to the Chinese restaurant, you felt someone was staring at you from a distance. When you were about to turn around, someone on a moped snatched your tote bag from your shoulder and drove off.

“Hey!” You tried chasing the person with your belongings to no avail, they were long gone. Your first thought was to call the police, but your phone was inside your tote, along with your wallet. You scooped your faced and whined in desperation, feeling this empty hole in your chest. You figured your best course of action was continuing your trip to the restaurant and ask if you could borrow the phone to call the police, so you continued making your way to the restaurant in resignation.

CRASH!

There was a loud noise not so far from where you were. Weary of your surroundings due to what had just happened, you cautiously made your way to the noise. You poked your head towards the alley where it came from and, to your surprise, saw the same moped that had just mugged you crashed into a garbage container. The guy was in the floor, pleading for his life, and in front of him was a figure with a white cape who remained silent.

The caped person only took a step forward, retrieved a gun from his waist, directed it to the man, and said in a raspy voice:

“Mejor ruégale al diablo, pedazo de mierda”.

You covered your mouth to stifle the tiny yelp that escaped your mouth when the shot was fired. You felt the urge to throw up as you saw the man lay lifeless on the pavement.

“Ahí está, Jonsu. ¿Necesitas que me ocupe de alguien más hoy?” The man said nonchalantly to the air, as if he hadn’t just killed a man. Silence followed. Was he expecting someone to talk back to him? Then, he growled in desperation, “¿Qué? ¡Pero Harrow está muerto, tú mismo viste que lo maté!”

It seemed he’d gotten a response, but he wasn’t too happy about it. After a few moments of the wind talking to him, he turned around, looking directly at you.

Shit! You hid from him on the outer corner of the alley. You could hear his steps drawing nearer, but you stayed frozen in fear. He was probably going to kill you for what you’d just seen. Then, the footsteps stopped. You slowly opened your eyes and got a full view of the man. It was the superhero from Cairo, only his costume looked slicker, less mummy-like.

“This yours?” he asked with his thick accent, reaching your tote bag towards you. You nodded.

“Be more careful,” he warned as you grabbed your tote bag from his hands.

As soon as you had a hold of your bag, you made a run for it. After all, you’d just gotten mugged and had seen a man get shot, so you definitely weren’t going to stick around to chit-chat with the superhero in front of you. After running for a bit, you made it to the Chinese restaurant. You opened the door and slammed it shut, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you alright?” the person at the register asked. You made your way towards them and slumped down in the counter, head burried in your arms.

“Can I get the large combo?”

Another a/n: Tysm for reading! I am going to be working on a follow up to this fic, so look foward to that. I am planning on making this a Marc × Reader and Jake × Reader series , and maybe even add Layla into the mix because, lke I said at the beggining, I live vicariously through the fanfics I write and I am a bisexual disaster who would really like to be in a poly relationship with all of them.

#moon knight #moon knight series #moon knight disney+ #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n

[vyladromeave]

20 and 22 for the ask game?

20. you can only change one plotline in the entire canon—what would it be and how would you alter it?

FUCKKKKK ONLY ONE? hmmm....

I do think there is a part of this question that is phrased strangely, I understand the "only one plotline" thing in theory because it requires you to limit yourself to one decisive answer. But that also kind of implies that the One Plotline you're changing has changes that are all self-contained and ultimately return things to the status quo, which is typically not why I would make a change in plot to begin with. If I'm making one big major change in the plot, typically its going to be something major enough that the rest of the series is affected, which kind of conflicts with how the question is intended...

With that in mind... I mean the easy answer is something Aaron-related, but honestly most of his issues stem from a character standpoint given he rarely ever drives the plot forward meaningfully unless he's literally killing himself lol. There's not a lot of single isolated plot issues for him, I don't know if I could fix him without really going back to the roots and really domino-effect-ing him and how he interacts with the rest of the plot moving forward. sooooo...

If I had to do a more self-contained plotline change, it'd be the circumstances around Garroth's S1 betrayal. Easily.

Judging by how quickly everyone forgives him, the series itself seems to forget that people got hurt, killed, and had years of their life stolen because Garroth got mad that Aphmau maybe romantically liked someone else. It relies on miscommunication and poor characterization to even be executed at all. Eek.

Canonically, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he invests too much into people. He couldn't kill Zenix despite Zenix actively trying to kill him multiple times because of how much time and love there had been between them. Are we really expected to believe he'd betray Aphmau on the off chance she might've done something that could've hurt his feelings? Are you kidding me? This is stupid.

Seeing as how the series treats him as if his motives are already easily forgivable and justified, just changing the motive to be... actually that, keeps the change relatively self-contained here. So! Lets give him a motive that actually makes sense here:

Zane promises the war will be endless unless Garroth gets him what he wants. He's scared of O'khasis' military might and knows what they can do. Lillian is still a method of coercion, mostly as a contact point between him and Zane.

He's trapped in a lose-lose situation, both actions causing Phoenix Drop harm, growing sick and locking himself in his room from fear and indecision. It culminates in his betrayal in the S1 finale, his fear of O'khasis and Garte outweighing his trust in Aphmau and Phoenix Drop. This leads into a much more viable change of heart in the S1 finale, and a much more natural redemption afterwards.

22. who's the character that you most identify with and why?

looks up to my url. looks back at this ask. looks up at my url again. looks at you. looks to my icon. looks to my header. looks to this ask. yeah it's vylad why do you ask.

No but on a serious note, I think it's natural to put pieces of yourself into characters, and with Vylad that comes very naturally to me. He has always fascinated me, even since before we had much confirmed about him (I very vivdly remember trying to talk to people about him being the Elusive Third Sibling of Garroth during S1, only to get VERY confused responses). When he got properly introduced in S2, only to justify basically everything I had ever theorized about him to be right, it was very satisfying lol. I don't think I can fully answer the "why" here without getting very personal, but here's some stuff I feel comfortable sharing!

Green and red are important colors for Vylad, and they're important for me too!! Green has basically always been my favorite color since the dawn of time, although I did go through a strong purple phase when I was younger.

The way he acts and behaves can be very easily read as autistic/otherwise neurodivergent. I saw/still see a lot of my behaviors in him in a way that made him very comforting to me when I was first watching the series in 2015, and still makes him very endearing to me now ^-^

I am a sucker for characters who go through a literal death + transformation afterwards. Big fan of symbolism. Somewhat for transgender reasons personally, but also stuff beyond that.

speaking of transgender: nonbiney :) and while we're at it hes one of the most explicitly lgbt characters we've got. gay people!!!!! woooooo!!!!!!!!!!

we've both got freckles heehee :D

This comic was based off some very personal musings of mine, so much so that I almost didn't post it lol. His strange relationship with not-religion is very important to me.

Weirdly enough though, I'm not a sibling! I very very frequently find myself identifying with characters that have strange sibling relationships, but I'm an only child! I don't know why this keeps happening.

#ask #mcd #long post #big post

[firsttarotreader]

Hey there! have you ever done a reading about how was pedro's last serious relationship? not if it was w/ a woman or man or when it happened or how long it lasted but HOW it went, you know? did it helped him somehow (in terms of personal growth/selfesteem, for example) or was it kinda complicated, for example?

Hello! I asked the cards your question and the first pull was the Page of Cups, The Wheel or Fortune and The Magician.

So, Page of Cups means he was probably pretty much in love. He was feeling like a love sick puppy, with an ideal, dreamy love, even kind of innocent. The Wheel of Fortune points to him possibly knowing it wasn’t supposed to last, since the Wheel is always turning, sometimes it goes a good way and sometimes it goes a bad way. He felt lucky to have them, almost like it was fate that brought them together, but also knowing life is cyclical, and things could go either way. The Magician represents the infinite potential he saw in it, and he was ready to make things happen, no matter what it was. He was head over heels in love and he wanted to explore all that potential.

The second pull was the 4 of Coins, 9 of Swords and Ace of Swords. 4 of Coins points to a lot of jealousy and insecurities and possessiveness. He felt like he had everything he had always wanted and he had worked for that and he was scared to death to lose it. 9 of Swords shows us the relationship gave him a lot of anxiety and worries, probably because of how afraid he was to lose, and he might have even struggled to sleep well at night. All of that led to the Ace of Swords. There was a moment where he got all the clarity he needed, he was able to be honest with himself and with the person and the person with him. There could have been some arguments, and the question is whether this clarity and honesty brought harmony or destruction.

When I asked for one card to sum it up, it was the Page of Wands reversed. This card is about an inability to commit. The situation wouldn’t progress, there was fickleness and indecisiveness, and they were not as much as a match as he thought they were, and with that Magician card in the beginning, maybe Pedro was the one expecting more from the whole thing than the person.

Anyway, it kinda tracks with what he said about staying out of relationships for fear of having something and then losing it, right? 🤔🤔

So I am gonna put this reading in the #confirmed readings tag, but this one is just semi-confirmed, okay? 🤣 The feelings and thoughts in it match what he said in the Wired interview, although we don’t know for sure if it’s what happened in his last relationship. 😁

#relationship #commitment phobe #confirmed readings #wired #interview #semi confirmed #Readings

[demonsandco]

How would the brothers react if the mc was sick?

Lucifer, Mammon and Satan are already answered over here!

Leviathan

•Levi can't help but compare the situation to all the cute, trophy anime episodes he's watched, where the protagonist falls ill and their love interest has to nurse them back to health. He's eager to have a chance to fill that role and dote on them while they're sick, but he's also worried that they might prefer someone else over him to take care of them. Unless they outright invite him in, he's going to spend a long while awkwardly loitering outside their door in indecision.

•Despite his repertoire of shows, Levi's knowledge on humans is incredibly limited. He doesn't realise at first that different symptoms have different solutions, and that soup isn't some magical sickness cure. Any time they mention a new symptom or they start feeling a little worse, he immediately assumes the worst and needs to be reassured that they're not deathly ill. He takes requests well, though, and he makes for a fairly good caretaker once he calms down and lets them tell him what they need.

(cont under the cut)

•Typically, Levi is picky about the media he consumes, but he's willing to make an exception while they're sick. He's happy to share any of the shows and games in his collection with them, but they also get the once in a lifetime chance to force him to watch "normie" shows if they convince him it would make them feel better. He does genuinely enjoy getting to know their taste in media, but it's easier to pretend his only doing it because they aren't feeling well.

Asmodeus

•Asmo excels at taking care of people and adapting to suit their needs. If they're genuinely feeling ill, enough that it prevents them from going about their daily activities, he takes it very seriously. He won't even hesitate to bring them anything and everything they could possibly need without then even needing to ask for it. He's got something for any symptom they could possibly have, and he's very strict about keeping their room calm and quiet, to help them feel as comfortable as possible.

•On the other hand, if they're not feeling too horrible, he's significantly more playful, focusing more on cheering them up and distracting them, then trying to treat their symptoms. He will use this as an opportunity to barge into their room dressed as a sexy nurse and pretend to give them a check up. His goal is just to get a few laughs out of them and take their mind off things, and while he wouldn't be opposed to providing a different type of distraction, it's truly not something he's thinking of in the moment.

•Regardless of how well they feel by the end of the day, though, Asmo insists on turning their room into a personalized spa, just for them. Even if they're mostly back to normal, he still wants to spoil them a little, and what better way to get rid of that icky sick feeling, then a soothing bath, a gentle massage, and a relaxing atmosphere. He's got just about any product they could dream of, and he's more than happy to do all the work, letting them relax and not have to lift a finger.

Beelzebub

•Beel is scarily good at reading people, to the point where he probably realises that they're sick before they make the connection themselves. Despite knowing incredibly little about humans, he does a good job at staying calm and not overreacting. There's a small part of him that fears for their health, especially since he can't protect them from something so intangible, but he knows worrying won't help them feel better and keeps his fears locked away.

•It's no surprise that Beel's mind goes to food when he learns that they're not feeling well. Eating always makes him feel better, and he knows they need to keep their strength and energy up to recover quickly. They're always giving him snacks and looking out for him, and he wants to return the favor. He'll go out of his way to cook something for them himself, and while it takes a lot of trial and error, he does eventually manage to finish cooking and bring them a full plate. It may not be the best meal they've ever had, but the thought and effort behind it make it all the more meaningful.

•Unlike his brothers, Beel has no shame in admitting that he really doesn't know much about how humans work or what they need. He's not afraid to ask them what he can do to help and is happy to fulfill any request they might have. He's willing to do just about anything for them without complaint, as long as it helps make them feel even a little bit better. Caring for those he considers family is like second nature to Beel, and he wants them to get better as soon as possible. 

Belphegor

•While Belphie had a fascination with human culture, he doesn't know a single thing about human illnesses. He does make the mistake of searching up their symptoms briefly, but he's smart enough to ask them if they're alright before jumping to conclusions. Despite the reassurance that they're not dying, though, he still finds himself worrying for them. Humans are so frail compared to demons, and he hates feeling so helpless.

•Belphie can always be described as clingy, but it gets even more noticeable while they're sick. He seems to find any excuse possible to be nearby, if not outright glued to their side. He tries to play it off as no big deal. If they're going to stay in bed all day he might as well take advantage of it, right? His weak excuses completely fall apart when not only is he not napping most of the time, but any time he does leave, it's to grab them a drink or a snack.

•Actions speak louder than words for Belphie and doing things for others is how he shows he cares. He hates seeing his human feeling sick and not being able to do anything to actually help them. It's only when night rolls around and he sees how much they're struggling to fall asleep through the sickness that he realises there is something that only he can do. Every night that they have trouble, he can use his powers to coax them to sleep, letting them get some much needed rest to recover, and giving him a convenient reason to spend every night cuddled up in their bed.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

[valeriianz]

10 fandoms / 10 characters / 10 tags

tagged by @virgo-dream and @seiya-starsniper, thank you! this took me a while... the way my hyperfixations work is, i'll completely devote myself to a piece of media for a time... then once i find something else i move on almost entirely lol. i of course still have a very soft spot for the shows/video games listed here (as well as my blorbos, such as they are) but the only fandom im currently active in is, of course, Sandman.

1: Levi Ackerman - Attack on Titan

I am in a love/hate relationship with AoT lmao (and some day i WILL finish the final season) but nothing, not even fandom war, will ever change my love for Levi. I'm obsessed with his backstory, how he came into the Survey Corps, and how it all sheds light on the decisions he makes and the tragedies he suffered through. I was fascinated by him since S1 and after the No Regrets manga came out, I was done for. He has been through so much and despite how cruel and unforgiving he seems, he actually has the biggest heart and-- guh I just love him. He deserves the world ;^;

2: Zuko - Avatar the Last Airbender

Truly was torn between Zuko or Katara... but I have always had mad respect for Zuko's redemption arc and how brilliantly it was written. I love how it takes a full season and a half for him to have this war within himself, that he makes the right decision but then regresses... before literally becoming sick with indecision and change. And then he finally proves his worth and becomes the most loyal friend and a perfect leader to rebuild a broken society. I'm a sucker for good character stories, and Zuko's arc in ATLA is my hands down favorite ever.

3: Roxas - Kingdom Hearts

God I just love tragic male characters, huh? lmao. This one is a no brainer to me. Roxas is the OG blorbo. I fell in love with him at the tender age of 17 and have never looked back. He is kind and loyal but also a feral gremlin. He is so goofy but sad and god dammit, I love his voice and his baby blue eyes. Also this line, "This could have been the other way around." *shakes fist* MY BOY!

4: Faye Valentine - Cowboy Bebop

We love complex characters in this house! Faye has all the traits of a character I usually wouldn't vibe with: she's arrogant (without much to back it up lol), lazy, and is susceptible to addictions. But oooh do I love a character who uses negative traits to hide how emotionally vulnerable they are. Faye appears strong, mean, and confident to a fault, but inside she craves companionship and is incredibly lonely (despite her lone wolf tendencies). Rewatching the show as an adult, I found Faye and I have a lot in common lol. She needs a hug.

5: Hob Gadling - The Sandman

Do I really need to say anything? lol I love that Hob is the fandom's plaything; molding and shaping him and writing him in all sorts of different ways... but I do adore his canon character. He is brash, stubborn, at times cruel and violent... but then immeasurably kind, loyal, and forgiving. He takes on immortality in unexpected ways. he thrives, he suffers, he works, he regresses, he makes mistakes, he learns from them, he changes... he is THE human experience.

6: Daenerys Targaryen - Game of Thrones

Robbed. Robbed. Absolutely robbed. The writers did Daenerys so dirty, I refuse to accept the final 3 seasons of GOT as canon lmao. (and here's another thing: I would totally accept her spiral into "madness" if it had been handled seriously. If the writers didn't just pull this out of their ass and instead thoughtfully worked in justifiable reasoning for her to go crazy). I'm 100% a stan and there's actually nothing you can say that will change my mind :)

7: Cal Kestis - Star Wars, Jedi: Fallen Order

My SON. My BOY! I have the adoption papers ready.

8: Tifa Lockhart - Final Fantasy VII

Another OG blorbo lmao. She's been with me since I was a teenager (also I always shipped her with Cloud, not Aerith. I do however ship Aerith and Zack... the latter whom almost made this list. Anyway-). Tifa is the badass motherfucker with a heart of gold. She is insanely loyal and truly the wisest of the bunch.

9: Mickey Milkovich - Shameless

ANOTHER BROKEN CHARACTER WHO GOES THROUGH EXTREME DEVELOPMENT? Can anyone sense a pattern?? This motherfuckerrrr *shakes Mikey and slaps him in the face and sobs* God I love it when a seemingly irredeemable character goes THROUGH IT and comes out shining a new, yet somehow the same old, sarcastic bitch.

(Also please note that Lip Gallagher almost made this list. Another shining example of the writers doing his character the WORST injustice just to keep him on the show. He should have stayed in college. He almost GOT OUT. He almost broke the chain. What he did was not in line with his character and I will stay mad about it).

10: Cesare Borgia - The Borgias

THIS. GUY! AURGH!! Arrogant, violent, sexy bastard. You piece of shit. Cesare actually did everything wrong, he doesn't want to be redeemed. But he is so fucking charismatic and I love that he uses it to his advantage. He's so fucking smart and quick on his feet. He's SUCH an asset on the battlefield. And he LOVES his family! He will kill a bitch with his bare hands if they dare insult his mother or sister. I love that he grumbles when given advice from literally anyone that isn't his most trusted friend, bodyguard, and assassin, Micheletto. Doesn't even flinch when he discovers Micheletto is gay, actually teases him for being a momma's boy, and genuinely grieves for his loss when he flees. He says out loud how he misses him and actually begins to doubt himself without Micheletto there to counsel him. Cesare is everything to me, actually.

tagging, no pressure!: @rainy-days-and-nights @the-cloudy-dreamer @kemurai6-dominion-of-dust @ferelden-loser @teejaystumbles @tj-dragonblade @hardly-an-escape @sutoribenda @quillingwords @mathomhouse-e

#woo okay #this was kind of difficult because i usually always have multiple blorbos per show lol #choosing only one from each was a struggle haha #thank you guys! #tag game

[balmondmilk]

Ask and ye shall fucking RECEIVE, here's a list of things I plan on drawing at some point

1. A plantperson x PC piece inspired by Klimt's The Kiss and also some lovely plantpeople art that's been going around recently

2. Harper hypnotising someone (PC lmao who am I kidding) into giving them head

3. Night Monster, because I am a monsterfucker first and person second

4. A variety of horny drawings lmao

5. Briar because I'm fucking obsessed with them but No One Else Seems To Be So I'll Fill The Void Myself

5. Wren because they've been requested and also I Love Them

6. Syd for the same reasons as Wren

7. I haven't decided on if I want to write a full-on fic or draw a short comic of it yet but it's Bailey getting fucked up physically and the PC saving him which fucks up Bailey psychologically

8. And many more, please send help (or tell me in which order to do these, ADHD makes me want to do them all at once lmao)

Puts these in my mouth thank you for these ingredence to rotate in my mind

1. FUCK YEAH GUSTAV KLIMT THATS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ARTISTS AND I CANNOT WAIT AND ALSO PLANT PEOPLE CHEFS KISS

2. As Harper do. I support.

3. Good fantastic I love that omfg cuz I am also a monster fucker and I crave more content for this creecher

4. As one does 💚💚💚

5. YOOOO I was just talking about briar the other day I said that one day I wanna draw masc briar in the red dress with plunging neckline cuz god that sounds amazing can't wait to see what you doooo

5.2. more wren is a fantastic idea as per always I love how you draw them too aaaaa

6. SYYYDNEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY-- Coughs sorry something came over me

(I'm in love with them I'm biased but I wanna see your draw of Sydney asap hdjdhd)

7. Absolutely the best idea we love a good Angst Driven piece of media in This House

(this house being my house)

(you're in my house rn--)

But I love the idea of like oh Bailey sees himself so fuckin untouchable and strong and can do no wrong but Something Unexpected Happens and suddenly he has to get help god can you imagine

Love that shit

8. Gives you a leaf in this trying time

You know I'm gonna be biased and say Sydney is on top of my list--

I really would love to see the Klimt piece soon too! Or the Bailey narrative depends on how much time and energy putting into these

I'm also super indecisive but those stand out to me the most ATM hdjdhd

I find a way to figure out what I wanna do is do eeny meeny miny mo and if I am disappointed in the result I chose the other one dhdhd but that's easier said than done and all of these sound so sick and I would love to see any of these aaaa so excited!!!!

#im excited to see any of these and also so happy you wanted to tell me dhdjd #💚💚💚

[mwolf0epsilon]

Whumptober Day 7: The Way You Shake And Shiver

Prompt: Shaking Hands & Silent Panic Attack

Warning: Mentions of Suicide

Summary: Rex isn't doing so great when they're finally on their way back to 000 from Umbara...

[Sometimes in moments of weakness we turn to old coping mechanisms. Whether that's a good thing or not is up for debate... Sometimes it makes it easier to lie to yourself that something broken can still be fixed.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Before Fox had given him his name, Rex had made a list of options just like every other cadet in his age group. It was almost a tradition for most young clones who still only had their numbers. The task of compiling potential names that may one day suit them in some way, shape, or form.

None of the ones he'd considered had ever stuck.

He'd been rather unsure of himself (the sole golden haired child among a sea of dark curls), often made to hide behind his batchmates. Keeli and Jek had both found their names quickly, and they'd been quite indecisive themselves. But they'd never been as nervous as he had been, so finding something to claim as theirs wasn't hard for them in the slightest.

They knew who they were.

Rex thought he knew who he was. A king with a crown of gold growing naturally upon his skull. A fellow misfit among the CCs that had adopted him. Fitting of a title that had his ori'vod beaming with pride. Fox had made him believe he was a leader.

Fox was a very good liar.

The trip back to Coruscant is a slow one. Umbara long gone from their radar, but still closer than home. Its darkness following the vode well into the flight. The hollowness behind their eyes... It makes his stomach twist and his heart hammer in his chest cavity like there's a parade in town. For once in his life a campaign has left Rex unable to think.

Or rather, unable to process the sheer horror of what he had witnessed. What he had let happen. What he had done.

Little Force Gods what had he done?

So many brothers dead. So many brothers left for dead. So many more dying inside.

He swallows thickly around the lump forming in his throat, and stares ahead unblinkingly. Watching the blue-tinted lines of hyperspace zip by as he considers what's to come, while a voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Keeli whispers for him to take deep breaths, to start counting.

If he counts it'll help ground him. But does he want to stay grounded? When there is too much going on right now?

Three troopers have eaten their own blasters before departure from Umbara. The death tool rising steadily. Many more might follow. Will follow. The guilt is killing them all, and he doesn't know how to help.

They should be incapable of breaking. Should be impervious to diseases of the brain. But Krell has left an infectious mind. One that makes it hard for Rex to breathe even in the safety of this ship.

His eyes sting, his chest hurts, his heart is breaking into a million pieces, and there's a good chance he might throw up.

His hands are shaking. They shook back on Umbara too.

Dogma's hadn't.

He comes back to in the refresher. Jesse and Fives are at his sides. They look shaken and tired, and a little of something else Rex can't identify right now.

Angry? Disappointed?

Disgusted with their oh so great captain who couldn't even take the shot himself? Who'd let so many brothers die needlessly when he could have acted immediately and avoided disaster?

The thought makes him vomit up more bile. Salty shame runs down his face, snot bubbles up in his nostrils, foamy sick lands in the toilet. Rough but gentle hands rub at the small of his back. He knows whatever relationship he had with both Jesse and Fives is strained now. Justifiably so. But they still have his back. They're holding him through a panic attack.

He counts each circle, each finger on his back. Then counts the murmurs he can hear. Then the instances where he hears Kix at the door, checking up on them. Making sure he's not going to eat his blaster like the others who just couldn't bare the guilt anymore.

Counting helps. It helped back when he was a cadet. It still does now.

He can't for the life of him recall how many names he'd compiled before he'd been given his own. Maybe someone else knew. Rex doesn't think he knows anything anymore. But he has to move on, regardless of what happened on Umbara.

He had to believe in the cause.

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober2022 #captain rex #guilty conscience #panic attacks #mentions of suicide #post-umbara

[atopearth]

White Album 2 Part 4 - Chiaki Izumi Route

I don't know why Chiaki has two endings but let's see how it goes. Considering how things seem to go, I guess Haruki will always "cheat" on Setsuna regardless so I guess that's something I'll have to accept. It was obvious when Haruki was getting mad at Chiaki in his head that she would be waiting for him at his place, but I didn't expect the Santa costume lol. I feel bad but I really have to mute the voices whenever it's the H-scenes, I can't take all the slurping and stuff lol! The noises really grind my gears hahaha. Chiaki being a virgin really didn't surprise me because she totally caters for the cliche of a wild and assertive but pure type of girl lol. Honestly, I'm not sure if this is the best way for Haruki to "heal" but seeing him so distraught when Chiaki left for a bit, I couldn't really hate him. I guess they're both just trying their best to heal and give warmth to each other thinking it's the best way when it's probably just making them even more secluded from the world and reliant on the other. I'm really glad Haruki really did pick himself up once it was the new year, and to be decisive enough to say he wants Chiaki to be in his life and everything? That's solid improvement! Ohh okay, that ending was unexpected for me. I didn't think Chiaki would literally disappear from Haruki's life and that the only reason she was there was just to help him pick himself up and face Setsuna properly and that's all. Like, I'm glad he's properly talking to Setsuna and being honest blah blah, but I'm still not sure I'm as persistent as Io and Takeya in wanting Haruki and Setsuna be together no matter what lol.

I'll admit that I didn't expect Chiaki to actually have attended the same school and even saw and heard Haruki, Kazusa and Setsuna's performance on stage, and to have also noticed Haruki's feelings towards the both of them too. I guess regardless of how much Takeya wanted to protect Haruki from Chiaki, they still ended up meeting anyway haha. Ohh wow, is Chiaki a full-fledged actress already? I was wondering what happened to her drama stuff, guess she's super impressive in her own way. Anyway, I didn't expect Chiaki to be the one that was hanging with Setsuna that night, and dang, she looked good! I can see why Io slapped Haruki lol, he so honestly told her that he cherished this other girl he's been sleeping with whilst Setsuna has been crying all alone, how could she not? On the other hand, when Takeya said "what's so wrong about running away?", I...honestly couldn't fault him at this moment. All along, I've always hated Haruki's indecisiveness and his way of running away all these years and I'll still look at it with contempt, but at the same time, as someone who has run away from reality for years as well knowing that I needed it in order to "survive" and face reality and the future again, I can't blame Haruki. But at least for me, the only person I tortured and wasted the time of was myself, whereas Haruki's actions and inactions all this time have given both hope and despair to Setsuna. Even though I think Io and Takeya can be too meddlesome sometimes, it makes me so jealous of Haruki that he has friends who will never abandon him no matter what.

It's kinda funny that I never really liked listening to Chiaki's VA because she always sounded so fake, but now that we know that it was her "fake personality", and that this is her real voice, I actually really like how she sounds lol! It must have hurt though, to hear Chiaki recite lines that stab Haruki's heart since she's basically making a play out of all his pain, all Setsuna's pain and all of Kazusa's pain just because she thinks it's interesting. I guess it's cute that the only thing that can make Chiaki "care" about someone is when they show their weak side to her. Haruki being helpless enough to have missed his exams because he's sick is a pretty big deal though. Well, that was certainly a rollercoaster ride. Honestly, I couldn't share the same feelings as Haruki to the point where he could 'love' Chiaki and worry about her over this whole betrayal thing. Even though I enjoyed seeing the play she created, she basically copied their whole story and kinda made it her own but not really at the same time because the whole thing was good but very uncomfortable at the same time. I do admire her tenacity and stubbornness towards acting though. Her breakdown was interesting to see but I sadly felt nothing towards their relationship and it actually feels like their relationship will never be a healthy one to me, and I've never really liked their relationship so I'm biased haha. As usual, I feel bad for Setsuna.

Overall, I'm not sure what to think of Chiaki. I definitely prefer Koharu's route because I understand both Haruki and her feelings better, whereas for this route, I felt like the romance was kinda forced near the end? Personally, even though I could feel that Chiaki did care and like Haruki in her own twisted way, the fact that it affected her performance and her real emotions enough like that was kinda shocking because it just didn't feel like they connected that well aside from sex. I could see why Haruki felt reliant on her and everything in the beginning, but I couldn't fathom his love and care for a person that decided to use his pain as a play to show the world. I mean sure it was interesting, but it's uncomfortable to think about and watch. I also feel like the ending makes it like in the end, Chiaki is just another replacement to cover up his pain of never getting over his love for Kazusa, and never getting over the guilt towards Setsuna. It just doesn't feel happy at all. But honestly, I feel like nothing about Chiaki's story was actually happy, which is fine, but it wasn't very satisfying in any way either lol.

#White Album 2

[outoftheskylar]

{skylar o'hare}

(+) relaxed, funny, adaptable

(-) unmotivated, absent-minded, indecisive

HISTORY:

There's not much to Skylar, if he's being honest. There's a thousand girls just like him in America.

Straight C student and college drop out, Sky fell pretty easily into retail. Specifically, the local Old Navy.

They stuck with it. Not because they liked it, but because they also didn't really want to do anything else, either.

They eventually became the Assistant Manager, not out of talent or skill, but because he'd just been there so long.

He had gotten on the plane to Australia to meet up with a friend he'd made in a chatroom for Mariah Carey fans.

SKILLS:

If Skylar has skills that would be useful, he's going out of his way not to use them.

Sky wants to be lazy as possible. This is just an extended vacation for him. If he dies here and never has to fold another shirt or put up with another customer? Good. That's a happy ending.

Genuinely, though, Sky's best skill is calming other people down and bringing them together. Work shit, you know.

SOCIAL:

Skylar is chill. Like, frustratingly so. He refuses to have an emotion that's not neutral. If someone forces him to have a strong emotion, he will literally just start crying and then try to take a nap.

Despite this, he's usually pretty good at motivating other people and making them feel included in any group. He's had to learn because he got sick of doing closing procedures by himself. Inspiring other people and making them feel like part of a family is a great way to get out of doing chores.

He's a slut. In theory. No one's ever actually taken him up on it. He still has like 1000 shirts that say 'Bimbo' in the Barbie font, though.

#syfy.intro #i hope u like my baby girl

[crappyyuki]

Zenonia~

Not Zenonia 3 this time. Thank Argos.

It's the squad! Regretism if you will. Regret mitosed! Kidding. He didn't. Sorta.

Pretty sure I already explained why there's four Regrets in another post. But to summarize, Regret kinda fractured his essence so that Shaturu wouldn't be able to get all of his power.

Does that mean that Shaturu has some of his power? Absolutely. But without the Ladon power part. Ladon's power is passed on to the next Regret trying to save the world because he would be dead without it. So in this case, Slayer Regret has it.

I also nicknamed them. Druid is Drew, Ranger is Ray, Blader is Blade—so creative I know—and finally Slayer as Adas because of reasons.

Did I mention that Drew is from loop 1? And that loop 0 Regret is also a thing? And that he's half of all Regret's existence? And how that means that the Regret squad is only using half of their power and splitting it apart because they don't want Shaturu to absorb all of them? And that means that Slayer is just a quarter of Regret? If not, here ya go!

Wonder how the dark power is balanced when Regret isn't whole? Hmm...

Oh yeah. Drew has a bone mask while Ray has a fedora. Didn't draw them because I was lazy. I also apparently forgot Adas' scarf. Woops. That's why Blade was looking more detailed than the others. My bad.

I imagine Drew being the mischievous lazy one. He likes pranking people and trolling Shaturu when he gets a bit close to finding him. He's not active that much in his run because he doesn't really know what he's doing yet. He's trying to find the opportunity to strike and thinks that he can take Shaturu on his own but uh, that didn't work out too well. He got caught. So he cut up his leg to get away from Shaturu.

While Drew is devious and arrogant, Ray is not. He's a bit more calculating and solemn. He's the quiet type to contemplate on what to do next. Too much in fact that Anya almost got killed. So, finally being decisive, Ray decides to sacrifice himself so Anya can escape because she's their only hope now. He gets tortured. Very badly. Hence why he's asleep, again.

Blade is serious. Very serious and very reckless despite being the monotone constant poker face one. With Ray being indecisive, Blade is the impulsive one. Rushing through things and destroying the Mark of Ladons quicker than the others. He's getting sick and tired of the loop and so is Shaturu. Everyone is killed. Shaturu gets the taste of Blade's fury. The whole shebang.

Now Adas. Uh. He's a mess. Being a quarter of yourself plus with every other Regret's memories (read: trauma) showing up in fragments does a lot to your mental state. While every Regret did things solo, he accidentally gets adopted by the Royal Knights and is held captive (affectionate). He gets to make connections and friendships so when he fails to defeat Shaturu, he gets help not only from Chael but also from Ruira and Haz because they aren't commanders for nothing. Much like Drew and also Ray, he doesn't know what he's doing. More than that, he doesn't know what's going on most of the time. He just knows that he has to kill something, save people, and live. He's just vibing most of the time. In constant panic. Like a chihuahua. That's probably why he got adopted.

So to recap, devious overconfidence, calculating indecisiveness, impatient frustration, then panic confusion.

What a lovely friend group.

#zenonia #zenonia 4 #zenonia 4 classes #regretism #druid as drew #ranger as ray #blader as blade #slayer as adas #au #i think