#i feel bad having any other thoughts other than like. atonement on this day but imso stressed i didn’t do my homework all weekend bc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

herseraphwings · 3 months

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18+ A Glimpse Into The Most Intense Sexual Encounter Of Your Lifetime😈💦🍆🍑

It's been months & I had to step away from Tumblr to focus on business! I'm sorry to those who took the poll and didn't get the readings! Here is a steamy pick a card to make up for it. Hopefully I can contribute more pick a pile's to this side of Tumblr more consistently now!

All original works posted on this platform are copyrighted. Unauthorized use or reproduction without permission is prohibited. This pick a pile/image/card is meant to give you an idea of what the most steamy and intense sexual encounter of your life will be. This encounter could be at any point! Enjoy!

Minors DNI!!

✨This will be a creative writing pick a card✨

Pile #1

Your Song: Love Is Stronger Than Pride - Sade

Prime Lyric: “I can’t hate you, though I have tried.”

It's a shame this is happening here.

The cold of the marble countertop against your exposed skin sends quivers up your spine and frissons of blessed goosebumps across the curve of your rear. A warm but equally gentle and rough hand cups your derriere while twin digits grip your jawline. Timeless lips suckle at your needy neck as you draw in unsteady breaths, grasping at the walls to support the arch of your back. Thick, honeyed lust pools lower and lower with the current of your strong but fluttering heart, drawing your thighs together like aching soft magnets. Just a few minutes ago, there was gnashing of teeth and an attempted divergence witnessed by the Gods as a spectacled exchange of bitter thoughts raised like christened knives against your throats.

It was the supposed last stand. The conclusion of your story, where you're completely, utterly, officially separated.

But as you both faced off on your war-torn battlefront for the last time, you were ambushed. Your armageddon was due to rear its ugly head and place the four horsemen of pride, betrayal, uncertainty, and, sadly enough, money issues on all sides of your connection. But surprisingly, those demons watched from up high. For the Devil always has a trick up its sleeve. This isn't the first time you've launched into battle and escaped bloodied. But it is the first time the warzone has turned sanctuary- nestling you, cuts, bruises, and all to its tempting bosom.

What better way to fight than to fuck?

Now, your limbs are entangled while you paw at each other, vulnerable and mutilated by past sins in the bathroom of a mutual acquaintance. Hands you caressed and caressed a million lives over now grab you with need. A need for understanding. Atonement. Rehabilitation. A need to strip you even more bare than their painful words could leave you because it's you. It's always been you. You're the one that chips at their inescapable pride.

You do this to them- challenge them to be better and tear them down to be much worse when they've failed you.

Heady kisses trace down your neck to your collarbone, all the way down, planting seeds of love; another could never hope to see bear tempering fruit like they could, down to where the heat of all you could ever want and need rests eagerly within the cage of your thighs. "

“Open your legs.”, They look up to you and whisper; their voice tickling you with vibratory lust.

As you part, you feel teasing nips and pecks mark your sensitive skin with seductive swirling licks to echo, shifting deeper to the core of your desire until a pleasant moan escapes you.

You're not sure if you'll leave your tryst hand in hand or even on the same accord, but you at least know one thing. You both can rip profound emotions out of the other- deep from the marrow. Day or night. Spring or fall. You won't worry if that's a good or bad thing for now because as they beckon your climax to greet them at the edge of their greatest weapon against you, the past pain loses its power.

Every precise movement of their tongue is like perfect jolts of electricity through your body. Fuck they know you so fucking well.

Their soft lips and hums of pleasure in pleasuring you are where the true power lies. The sensual dance of their fingers strokes at your sweet spot, but the sudden rustle of the door knob snaps you back to reality. Shit! You shouldn't be doing this here. Before you allow sense to overshadow the moment,the heat builds as your moans grow more intense. You're grateful for the ruckus on the other side of the wall. You sense them smirk beneath you and lock eyes with an individual who is determined to pluck at the strings of your desire until they're taught, and muffled screams rain down on them in a frenzied zenith. Passerby be damned. Once they've drunk enough of you, you'll be ready to return the favor with equal vigor.

This moment is a storm. Just like your love. A great and terrible storm. Strong enough to tear through villages of memories built on the foundations of a long connection. And just like you have weathered many before as enemies and lovers, these moments provide enough energy to brace yourselves for inclement weather.

The soul beneath you loves you harder as you writhe, faster, stronger until your beautiful climax hits you like a truck.

It's such a fucking shame this is happening here.

You see red. Are you back on the battlefield?

The Devil rises slowly to lay a peck at your ear and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate."

Notes:

This person is may come off as moody or too passionate for others. You have been together for a while at the time of this experience.

At the time of your encounter they are struggling with money.

You are separated, but attempt to find common ground at a social event

This may be the direct doing of a friend.

I don’t subscribe to the concept of twin flames personally, but this person may truly be your twin flame.

Your relationship with them at the time may be so deep that any little act that may harm the other can blow up to extremes because the feelings run too deep. There’s so much passion!

Thank you for allowing me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 1!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

Pile #2

Your Song: Hours - FKA Twigs

Prime Lyric “ Who’d have thought, I’d be in your mouth, loud and clear?

I once read that the best love stories are the ones that start with two people who can't stand each other.

At the time, I thought it a stretch of fictitious delusion. Understand me, Rosaline. I've had my fair share of entertainment from the comedic tropes I've watched on my various screens and read in books, but that's because the hands that pressed pen to paper or finger to keyboard behind the scenes knew how to write a good story.

There is power in prose.

We can all agree that the prodigal hate fuck always satisfies an audience. But that's not real to me.

How you eclipse the moonlight of the bedroom window to stand naked before me as the birth of Aphrodite itself is real to me. It's more vivid than any lucid dream or waking hallucination I could conjure in my insanity for you. How you languidly stalk towards the edge of the bed and make prey of me as your supple breasts softly and teasingly bounce is real to me.

I've never known anyone to be so graceful as they lower themselves to their knees.

The throbbing ache of anticipation you draw out of me as your hands open the gate of my thighs, and your beautiful face rests at the threshold of me is real to me. That first gasp-inducing sweet lick followed by the sacred scent of your hair penetrating my nostrils is intoxicating. And, the taste of me on your lips as you pause to greet me before you take me to church is so enchantingly real.

Why? Because the most striking and tangible things of this world aren't isolated to what we can experience with the five senses. It's the things that shake us, move us, change us, and stir something profound within us that is true. We don't even have to understand the why at first.

And oh, how you stir the most primal and obsessive urges within me.

I raise a quivering hand to caress your crown as you lick, nip, and tease my most erogenous areas, but you smack my hand away in a warning. Your eyes pierce mine, and you remind me that you are untouchable.

You remain as unattainable as the day I met you.

In the beginning, that side of you was cruel. You were so severe. So chaste. A person who seemed to constantly move the goalpost as I chased and chased. Our story was an epic on the destructive nature of gravity. I wanted to be your orange moon as your sunlight cast down upon me, but your pull always threatened to consume and scorch me if I dared to neighbor you. Your glares were like ice, and your mouth spat fire at anything that had something to do with me. It must have been something that I said. But I was no child, and neither were you. We cut the bullshit and found the necessary 60 seconds to get clarity.

Now, we're very clear on one another. Our vision is 20/20, and God, if you aren't magnificent. The noises you make as your tongue continues its assault on me are provocative, eliciting moans from the bottom of my throat while my eyes roll back and my hips writhe beneath you. Vibrations emanate from your lips as you moan in response to how you undo me, slurping and licking at me deeper and faster to build on your high. Your hands grip me tighter, locking onto the soft of my thighs, not because you need to hold me down but because you want to anchor yourself. The sensual masochist in you knows how badly you want to slowly snake your hand down to feel the wet heat of your trembling cunt- but she won't let you.

It's the idea that someone like me would beg for the opportunity to just lay beneath and watch you as you gave yourself the depraved release you will forever deserve that drives your lust. In these moments, I'm the one lucky fool under your spell who gets to have a taste of you, but only under your rules.

That is why tonight is extra special because I agreed to let you do everything that you wanted to do to and or on me, and to be honest, your fantasies are not as wild as you think.

As my climax overtakes me, I gaze back down at you and admire your work.

You may see me as a fool, but I am a victor.

The same person that insulted me, frowned at me and rejected me is the same person that now in a delicious turn of events

has my cock down their throat.

Notes:

This person is someone that may have chased you or made you chase them

You both misunderstood each other and miscommunicated frequently, for some to the point that you couldn’t stand each other.

Rosaline is the original apple of Romeo’s eye. She made a vow that prevented her from marrying so she is seen as unattainable and the cause of Romeo’s strife before he lays eyes on Juliet.

For some this night of pleasure is after you have a moment of realization and see that you both actually vibe really well.

You may choose to secretly scurry off to get to know each other better, or end up having this night of passion after you deepen your commitment or get married.

You or this person could be in a situation where one has already promised themselves to someone else, but you both have a last minute moment of truth and choose to secretly give in to your desires without getting caught.

This is a slightly kinky pile

On this night you may be exploring water sports. I see a woman squirting over their partner or their partner asking to watch them squirt or pee into a glass

I see nipple play

Similar to pile one, there is an edge of not being seen or organizing a secret rendezvous.

I feel like it’s the more feminine person with the Rosaline energy, they may come off as bitchy or have severe resting bitch face, but the surprise is that they are the more kinky person.

They love your breasts, but get lustful when they see your opening.

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 2!✨Follow for more readings like this!

Your Song: Seventh - BOSCO

Prime Lyric: “Giving you permission as I'm breathing, Finger on the trigger, now we reset, Here to hide, Will we die? No.”

It's such a beautiful day. Your limbs are tangled in mine as we rest peacefully under the shade of a lone tree before the chapel courtyard. Your beautiful head against my chest gently anchors me to the grass as you listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I gaze into the blue sky, contemplating the recipe of cool teals, turquoise, and sapphires God chose to bundle the earth. Sometimes, I wonder why God still allows us to roam this beautiful garden of Eden we call our planet. Maybe it knows that after falling so painfully hard, there really is nowhere to go but up. Or, at least in my case, look up.

It's so quiet that you can hear the trickle of a nearby stream. As I look around, everything seems so vivid. Each blade of grass and round tree leaf is a more lively green and rustles so clearly against the gentle currents of air caressing our cheeks- that my spirit can't help but reach toward the surface of an all-encompassing consciousness. The sky, the leaves, the air, and the stream are alive- as alive as I am right here with you. I can see it now. Is this what it's like to be high?

How could I not be after what we just did? Even though the ceremony was intimate, I was nervous that one of our friends or family found it and somehow turned up at the last moment.

You shift your hand to draw feathered circles on my chest and snap me out of my musings. You look up at me with a mischievously giddy smile and trace me lower and lower until you reach the hem of my pants, pulling teasingly at the elasticity. I arch my brow in surprise, looking for signs of the clergy. It would be a disaster if one were to stumble across us on their holy walk to find you performing the most unholy of acts. My eyes scan the clearing. I gather myself on my forearms and take a peek back. You're also looking around, but those naughty eyes flash with an undercurrent of different intentions. I would have missed it if I hadn't known you so well.

You want to get caught.

My quick scan tells me that we're alone. But you're already gripping me, slender fingers wrapped tightly around velvet steel, ready to receive your touch. You stroke me firmly and languidly as the clouds pass by overhead, and my eager tip moistens with salty essence. I won't let you pull too many moans out of me. We don't know who may be listening despite another quick look around. It feels like I'm floating in a blessed eternity as you touch me until the chapel bell rings unexpectedly. We rush to compose ourselves- one more than the other. You giggle as I try to thrust myself back under my pants and hide my shame before we embarrassingly cross paths with someone on our walk back to the car. I don't return the sentiment.

It was a bad idea anyway. If the Universe is alive and God is real, that must have been a warning. A sort of "Congratulations, but do it in private."

I know when to listen to divine intervention. I won't allow us to suffer judgment because of your lack of self-control. So I will become a mascareri and punish you myself.

I want you to think you crossed a line during the car ride back. That our perfect day may not be so perfect after all. You got too impulsive- too excited. So you start entertaining regrets. It's a little cruel, but you'll forgive me later.

A few hours post your voyeuristic episode, we're diving into champagne and wine bottles. You begged me to pop one open in the spirit of celebration, but we both knew you wanted to flood the nerves in your body with libations. But your consumption of liquor is a double-edged sword.

Three, four, five glasses down and you're swimming. Your cheeks are a luscious plump shade of rose, your skin is warm to the touch, and your feet are too light or maybe too heavy because you stumble across the floor and fall into my arms. I open a window to let the night cool you down. I'm still nursing my first glass, so I trust myself to securely hoist my bride into my arms and lay her tenderly onto the mattress. Your arms lock behind my neck, and I meet the longing in your big, beautiful eyes. You search me for emotion. Anything that would reveal the current truth of my inner world, but I keep my mask on.

You wanted to give the Universe a show today. So let's give it one.

I'll tear the clothing off your body so roughly that cool night air will douse your heated skin with prickles of goosebumps. You won't have time to gasp at my movements because I'll already capture your beautiful mouth with my own- my strong body pressing yours into the mattress of our lover's nest. You will squirm in need, but that won't be enough for me. I need you to whimper, to whine, and mold your begging hips so close to mine as I caress slowly, achingly, down toward heaven. I'll cup my hand at the pearly gate and watch your troubled face as you wait what feels like a millennia until you crack from desperation to feel more of me.

But there is a warning in my eyes you have never seen before. Something that tells you that this is different. It grips you into submission, a sense of fear and excitement battling within. You've never experienced me treat you like anything other than an angel. Until now, I would never have allowed you to fall. But now I truly have you.

ALL OF YOU.

Tonight, you will discover that when angels fall, the devil is there to catch them.

After our week of heavenly sin in our temporary Garden of Eden, we can deal with the backlash that awaits us.

Notes:

-This is the person you will marry or at least form a deep commitment with.

-At the time of the sexual encounter, you are trying to eagerly move the commitment forward formally, but you're seeking help to try and make it happen.

-Like looking for an officiant or going through pre-marriage counseling.

-However, you are feeling a little confused and lost or at least frustrated at the situation because things are proving to require more work.

-This may be because other parties are trying to but in with their opinion.

-You feel like you are meant to be with this person. Or you could have already done the deed, and need to break it to your friends and family.

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 3!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pac tarot #pick a picture #tarot #free tarot #18+ content #love reading #love tarot reading

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tbgkaru-woh · 3 months

Text

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

#dialogue prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts

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behindthesoul · 5 months

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Your MK men as parents headcanons are very interesting. Would you write other MK men as parents? Especially I want to read Rain and Havik!

MK Men as Parents pt2

Masterlist || Part One

Characters: Rain, Havik, Quan Chi, Kenshi

Note: Combined a couple of requests into one. Also, sorry this one took forever to come out!

Rain

Probably one of the more normal parents.

He’s a lot more chill compared to himself in other timelines. I can see him being a proud parent to one or two children. Maybe twins?

Teaches his kids to be a better mage than he is. He tries to make his lessons as fun as he possibly can.

Though, he can become frustrated if they aren't taking their teachings seriously. If something were to happen, they need to learn how to defend themselves.

In some MK1 intros you can tell Mileena (understandably) has a lot of distaste for Rain. So much that she wants his mother banished.

I can imagine his children are involved in this banishment which irritates him. His family, especially his innocent children, do not deserve to be punished for his actions.

The main driving force behind Rain’s mission to atone for his actions is his children. He wants to show that if you make a mistake, you should try to make things right. He also wants to be a man his children can be proud of.

Havik

A pretty hands off parent.

I can’t imagine him ever having a complete grasp on this parenting thing.

Just has one kid and refuses to have more.

His kid just kind of does whatever and Havik doesn’t care. Just as long as they don’t make a mess he has to clean up.

Has the “world’s your oyster” mentality.

This behavior is boosted to 100% after his burns. He embraces the chaos, and what’s more chaotic than having a kid?

Havik and his kid are public menaces, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s less of a parent and more of a cool older friend.

Don’t come to him for emotional support or other things like that. Having to actually parent his kid makes him feel tied down.

If his kid wants too much from him he’ll somewhat drift away.

You’ll have to hope their other parent is in the picture.

Quan Chi

Totally the parent who somehow knows their kid’s every move.

He knows when their kid has done something they shouldn’t so there’s never any use in lying to him. He just has this look on his face and his kid knows they’re in trouble.

Excuse my only child self for HCing every character as being a single parent but Quan Chi definitely only has enough energy for one kid.

He feels guilty for bringing a child into the world when he can barely take care of himself. Spending hours and hours in the mines, Quan Chi is exhausted by the time he sees his kid.

All his child knows is a dad who always looks tired and dejected.

That is, until he gets an opportunity to live a better life. A place to sleep, clothes that aren’t tattered, and fresh food - all necessities that his child now gets to experience.

Whenever his child asks how he was able to provide their new life, he just smiles and gives a cryptic answer.

Kenshi

His child was kept hidden. Kenshi thought it best to keep his child away from the whole Earthrealm-Outworld war.

None of his allies knew he was a father til the day they were all thrown in jail with Baraka. Thinking it was his last day on earth, he let the secret spill. Kenshi told everyone all about his child.

He mourned the fact he’d probably never see his child again. Of course, he did; after he helped defeat Titan Shang Tsung.

Kenshi was very nervous to meet his child again. What if they don’t react well to his blindness? Johnny pulls him out of his negative thinking. If your kid is as kind as they say you are, then why would they have a bad reaction?

It eases him a bit, but he’s still a little nervous. He feels like a fool for having those thoughts when his child runs to him, screaming his name. The last few weeks of fighting for Earthrealm was all worth it for them.

His child is a bit confused when they see the mask over his eyes.

“You can’t see me!” They say with a frown.

Sento glows, and Kenshi suddenly sees all the details of his child’s face. He smiles, assuring them.

“Yes I can.”

—

@mortal-kombat-shitposts

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat fanfic #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #quan chi #mortal kombat havik #rain mortal kombat #kenshi takahashi

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eddiemunsonw · 4 months

Text

Atonement - PART 1

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Munch has taken Gator captive to let him atone for his sins, you try to convince him not to by any means necessary

CW/Disclaimer: Violence (maiming), contains 'spoilers'

Author's note: Spoilers ahead, in a way. It's based on early on previews we have had, as well as the latest preview for episode 9. I had a fix-it urge before the fix-it event has even occurred.

Words: 2016

Screams echoed across the empty land, making you quicken your step. It didn’t surprise you that it had come this far, not in the slightest. You had told him to stay as far away from him as he could, but he decided to be cocky. Which… in some way, you understood. His thing with Munch was the only part of his life he currently felt in control of, or desperately wanted to be in control of. The man who was supposed to be dead by his gun had instead broken his arm, kicked him in the balls and left him hunched over like a loser vomiting in the grass for his dad to find. That wasn’t a pretty sight, for neither of them. Or you, for that matter.

Because despite the stupidly disgusting things that left his mouth on occasion, you cared for him. Why? Maybe because you knew where it came from. With a father like that, being fed his atrocious beliefs all his life and hardly being met with any opposition, it was probably harder to reflect on your own actions even if you should. Maybe because when you told him off he actually started to look remorseful. Maybe because, under all that douchebag behavior, you knew there was more to him. He had shown you on rare occasions when he let his guard down. Not on purpose, that’s for sure. But he had.

As for you, you knew Munch. Sort of. A long time ago, he had taken up one of the rooms above the bar. You had been scared of him, especially since he only showed up when he knew you were the only one behind the bar. The other patrons paid him no mind, but you did. How could you not? He only used the room to sleep. He’d come in late and be gone by the time you opened up the next day. You thought maybe he was homeless and you didn’t have the heart to tell your boss, the owner of the bar, that you had a freeloading guest. The rooms were barely used as it was, so you assumed it wouldn’t hurt. One night, a guest had been particularly difficult for you and at one point things had seemed to get out of hand and suddenly there had been Munch, snapping his neck like a twig and dragging him out of the bar without a word. That was the last time you’d seen him.

So when Gator mentioned his name, you had mixed feelings. You worried for Gator, knowing you wouldn’t want to be on Munch’s bad side. You were also, in some way, glad that Munch was okay. However after hearing that Munch broke Gator’s arm, you weren’t so sure if you should. Gator loved boasting about his achievements, was very quiet about his failures. He was all too giddy to tell you that he placed a tracker under Munch’s car and despite the many times you tried to talk him out of it, he had gone. He went, killed Munch and accidentally killed an old lady who decided to attack him with a bag of oranges for some reason.

Little did he know that the old lady and Munch had had a similar silent agreement as you had with Munch in the past. And little did he know that he’d simply shot through the head of a corpse that Munch had killed off earlier, rather than the man himself. Of course, it hadn’t been hard for him to figure out that Gator was behind it. Neither was it hard for him to decide he must be punished.

You had known something was up when Gator didn’t answer his cell. He never missed your calls, or he’d call back immediately. Something was up. When you finally found his car on the side of the road, the screams from afar gave you all you needed to find him. Munch hadn’t bothered to lock the shed, he even didn’t look up from Gator’s fear struck face when you stomped inside.

“Munch, let him go, please.”

Slowly, he turned his head to face you, but not before slicing a thick line through Gator’s cheek with the dull knife in his hand. He screamed.

“The boy has to pay for his sins,” Munch said, in that same, dull tone he always used. Smiled weakly as he turned back to face Gator, who tried to blink the blood away as it ran into his eye.

“It was an accident,” you tried, ignoring the fact that Gator had very much tried to kill the man. This was about the old lady after all.

“Foolish girl should not say foolish things.”

“Please, I can teach him to be better, he can learn—”

“A boy must learn to listen to what is not being said.”

With that said, Munch moved the knife closer to one of Gator’s eyes, who whimpered shakily, softly pleading, begging him not to.

“He does not need to see, as the cruels of this world fuel the ill part of his existence.”

“I need— I need my eyes, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt her. I-I-I’m sorry I tried to kill you! I only wanted for my dad, for Roy to be proud. To see me.”

Munch laughed in the creepiest sense of the word.

“To want the devil himself to be proud of one is to sin with the deepest desire for ruin.”

“I’m good— P-Please, I can be good, I promise! Please Y/N, tell him! Tell him!”

You placed a hesitant hand on Munch’s shoulder, letting go of a shaky breath as you crouched down.

“Please don’t hurt him. Can’t you see? He’s hurting enough from the turmoil inside. It’s Roy who you should go after, he’s the real monster. Gator is only… the product of it. He’s not beyond repair, Roy is. Please, Munch.”

Munch looked up again, considering your words. He got up and rummaged around in his bag, giving you a chance to really look at Gator. He was tied up, both hands and feet and even had a rope around his neck keeping him down. Tears had found their way down across all sides of his face, many streaks mixed with blood of his own. Munch had taken his time making tiny cuts all over his face. You didn’t dare touch him, in fear of Munch getting the wrong idea and ruining whatever small chance you had to save him. Gator’s lower lip trembled and you forced yourself to look at him, trying to convey without words that you’d do anything to get him out of there. You had already been looking around for anything to use as a weapon other than the pocket knife you carried. When Munch sat back on the low stool, he presented you with a square piece of iron attached to a stick. On top of the squared piece was a symbol that you only recognized from the back of Munch’s neck. You had no idea what it meant, or why he was showing it to you, but it could hardly mean anything good.

“Balance is a means used to eradicate evil and maintain the good. The girl is good, the boy is not. The burden of balance must be shared, if the girl wishes for the boy’s release.”

Gator and you watched as munch stuck the iron into the fire, heating it up. Finally realizing what he was saying, Gator turned his head to you and shook his head.

“No, Y/N, don’t. You can’t!”

“I can’t let him take your eyes either,” you said softly, the tremble in your voice betraying your fear. Gator continued to plead, to whom he wasn’t sure. You on the other hand, turned around and bared your neck.

The searing hot metal made you nearly lose your vision as you screamed out from the pain and it was only for Munch holding you up that you didn’t collapse. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he placed a cloth on top and helped you hoist up your clothes again. Gator was next. He didn’t try to fight back as Munch released him, not after you endured this for him, turned around wordlessly so Munch could do the same to him. His hand sought yours behind him and he clutched it tightly as soon as Munch moved away. Neither of you dared to move as Munch gathered his things. Not another word was spoken until Munch left the shed, and another ten minutes passed before Gator turned around to face you.

Guilt was etched deeply into his frown, the blood only deepening the gentle wrinkles on his forehead. Then, he quietly got up, helped you up and held the door of the shed open for you so you could leave. You both didn’t have to wonder whether Munch was gone. He only stayed somewhere with purpose, not just to wander about. It was done, so he was gone. Just as you arrived at the car, Gator turned to face you.

“Why?”

The silence stuck around for a while.

“Because I can’t see you get hurt. You’re hurting enough.”

Gator sighed shakily, his trembling hands trying to find the vape that had long since been discarded somewhere during the wrestle he and Munch had had.

“That’s not for you to fix.”

“I know.”

You didn’t care.

“Roy would have just let me suffer. Would think I’d deserve it too for being such a failure.”

“I know.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You do.”

Gator shook his head.

“No, Y/N, I really, really don’t.”

“I love you,” you whispered. It came as a surprise to you as well. You were his friend, you had always been just his friend and while you had considered the option sometimes, you never thought you’d actually act on it. You weren’t sure if you should regret it now, seeing the astonished look on Gator’s face.

Gator realized in the back of his mind that he had never, not once, been told these words. By no one. He didn’t think he’d ever hear them, nevertheless so sincerely, warm and loving. He closed the distance between you two so quickly that you gasped. His arms curled around you, though they never touched. His exhale was shaky and so were his hands when they carefully wrapped around your waist. He flinched as he felt your hands rest on some of the cuts Munch had made on his back earlier, but didn’t care enough about the pain to stop you from hugging him back.

“I’m sorry,” Gator whispered. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” you whispered back as you felt his fingers dig into you all the way through your jacket.

“It’s not, it’s not okay. I— you’re— maimed for life, because of me.”

“I chose to do that.”

“I don’t—”

“You do deserve me.”

Somewhere between his apologies, he started crying. Clutching at your jacket like his life depended on it and heaving into your neck. You cried too, but from relief. Munch had allowed your compromise to give Gator a second chance, and it was worth it. You’d do anything for him.

Gator leaned back finally, to look at you, his savior. His friend. The friend who said she loved him, whatever that meant. Stared at you longer, realized he needed to know. If all went to hell, it might as well go to hell today.

Rough hands, dirtied up with dried blood took the gentlest hold of your face before chapped lips brushed against yours, waiting. Yours moved against his, the softness of your tongue soothing his own. You tasted his blood but by no means would it stop you from kissing him, his body pressing yours against the side of his car, his gentle hand covering the back of your neck to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally hurt you.

I love you too.

It wasn’t said with words, but in a world where words were limited, sometimes actions were more than enough.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery #fargo spoilers

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sagaduwyrm · 5 months

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Infinite Realms World-building

So I have a lot of thoughts over why their aren't that many ghosts in the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms and how other afterlives fit into the situation so here.

The Infinite Realms aren't an afterlife. They're not a place any mortal soul is supposed to reach. They're the lining between afterlives, the wall holding them apart, the cradle holding all those places souls are meant to go. The Infinite Realms aren't anything, just a no man's worthless land.

The Infinite Realms weren't anything.

But. Picture this.

You are dead.You are dead you are dead you are deadyou aredeadyouaredead

It hurt. It was the worst thing you've ever felt, that moment when the bindings between your mortal body and your immortal soul were sundered beyond all recovery. You're disoriented and in pain and crying, weeping wails echoing across the metaphysical expanse.

But then a hand reaches out to you.

Hands, really.

They whisper in your ear. Come home, one says, offering gentle, glittering love. You've earned this, screams another like it’s a battle-cry. A dozen voices like hellfire and damnation offer atonement, if that's what you seek, although the punishment they offer varies. One voice that is not a voice but is the void offers the rest of non-existence, the creak of a wheel suggests reincarnation.

These gods and demons and spirits and entities want you, is the thing. Their grip is like chains around your ankles, dragging you down, and you have to choose, you hAVe To cHooSE, or It Will Be Chosen For You.

And this is what's supposed to happen, isn't it? The next step. Your eternal rest. Getting to pick is a greater mercy than a little mortal deserves, even.

But.

But…

You aren't a little mortal. You refuse to be.

You are the woman who revolutionized school lunches.

You are the greatest hunter in the world.

You are Romeo and Juliet, except they were a tragedy and you are not because you can bet your ass you went out laughing.

You are the world's next rock-star whose voice no one ever got to hear.

You are a man who loves boxes.

You are a clever wish-granter, the greatest magician in the world..

You are a Queen with people to protect.

You are the master of technology.

You are a boy who died too soon, too young, and hell, you should give up, but you never got to see the stars. You never got to see the stars, or what your sister looks like graduating from college, or how your friends look when they change the world. You'll never know if you'll be an uncle, if you'll have your dad's shoulders or your mom's wiry strength, what it feels like to kiss someone, whether or not Dash will ever get that stick his ass and become a decent person again. No one will ever read your paper on the genesis of stars, or fly to Pluto in a rocket ship you designed, or welcome you home after you've fulfilled your life's dream and gone to space.

It's a goddamn tragedy is what it is.

And dying hurt, so bad you're not sure if you'll ever be the same. But. All your chains are broken now. Your soul is free, in a way that it's never quite been before. You are a butterfly, broken free from your cocoon.

And they want to chain you.

They whisper so sweetly, so gently in your ear, even as they tear you apart in a child's game of tug-of-war. You have to choose.

Fuck that.

Fuck that. Dying hurts but it also freed all the potential of your beautiful, brilliant soul, and you aren't going back. Maybe you’re Icarus, flying too close to the sun, but you have wings now, and you won't let them be pinned.

You take the plunge. Through brimstone, through the river with its eternal ferry, through light and dark and a thousand different afterlives that want you like they have any damned right to your soul.

You fly, and you aren't sure if you're running forward or fleeing, but you fly. And it takes forever, a century and a day that lasts less than the beat of a heart, but then you burst free of all those grasping hands and you see green.

The green is infinite and it's empty. But it's free. It's beautiful and bright and you breathe it in, this base stuff of reality, this entropy in motion, and your soul comes to life. You aren't bound anymore, not by the base practicalities of your body, not by the laws and hunger of the gods, not by anything but your own willpower and trust in yourself.

Once the Infinite Realms were empty, once they were nothing. Now there are ghosts singing their exultant freedom. With them they bring ideas and movement and life, and the eddies they stir become whole new beings, spirits that never lived as anything other than what they are. These empty currents now hold whole worlds, ghosts and spirits and monsters.

And one day some strange being comes and tries to take your freedom and he calls himself Pariah Dark. Maybe he was a determined mortal just like you, maybe he was a demon, something sent by the gods to punish you for daring to be more, but it doesn't matter. Regardless of how hard he tries, how many lands his armies invade, how deep he digs his clawed hands in, it doesn't matter.

No one can conquer Infinity.

And then the Ancients awake. Even in a realm of equals, there are still those who are more. And what is the point of power if you can't protect your fellows?

So they shut him away, this fool who doesn't care for the freedom the Infinite offers, put him in a sleep so deep even his dreams can't disturb others. And when he wakes up there is a boy, small and young, but with more determination in his body than most could dare claim, and the tyrant who steals freedom is sent straight back to sleep.

The Infinite Realms need no King, but this boy is small and clever and kind, and when two people war, he is the first to come and mediate, the first to shove himself between their fury and make them remember themselves. They don't need a King, but the Infinite Realms are so big, with so many people, and they wouldn't mind a Speaker. Someone to connect them all, regardless of how far they lay apart.

And this boy with stars in his eyes and gentle hands grumbles, but he loves the Infinite as much as they love him, and he's almost meant for this, existing between Ancient and New, Living and Dead. They would never chain him, but he was always meant to explore, and who wouldn't want to meet and see and know everything?

The Infinite Realms are green and free and beautiful, and no god can ever change that.

#fandom #danny phantom #fandom stuff #danny fenton #world building #infinite realms #ghost zone #my writing

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darkfire359 · 6 months

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What could have been: sympathizing with Ed in season 2

I've talked before about how much I love Ed and all his complexity. I've written more fanfic about him and Izzy than any other characters, in my entire history of fandom. And unlike many people, I wasn't unprepared for the dark direction his arc took in season 2; I wanted him to commit MORE atrocities, and I happily made comparisons between him and another one of my favorite characters, Hannibal Lector.

But one of the key things I wanted after he committed atrocities was for him to feel bad about it. And I thought we'd see that! After all, S1 Ed was so tormented about killing his dad (who was abusive and violent towards) him that he never killed (directly) again! He was so broken up about trying to kill Stede in s1e6 that he ended up crying in a bathtub. Just like he cried in the window sill after committing all the kraken horrors in s1e10. It seemed like this was a guy scared of his own inner darkness, convinced he was a monster, who would go around saying things like "I'm not a good person" and "You were always going to realize who I am."

And so even when s2 went darker than anyone expected—when he cut off more of Izzy's toes, and shot him in the leg, and made crewmen fight to the death for experiencing love, and sailed the entire ship into a storm to murder-suicide his crew—I was still ready to accept all that moral ambiguity and give him a hug afterwards. Because of course, I figured that after Ed was brought out of that dark place and those suicidal urges, he would feel horrible remorse. How could he not?

I was looking forward to seeing him break down crying, convinced he was an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. (Which of course, would make it all the more touching when people inevitably did forgive him, and when he did redeem himself). Maybe Ed would even go too far with trying to atone, like in Mercy, one of my favorite post-s1 fics. Probably, I figured, Ed's quest for redemption would be one of the main themes in the second half of season 2.

So it was strange to watch e4, when Ed looked nothing but annoyed at everyone for chaining him up and banishing him, and then he went to hang out with his old friends like he'd done nothing wrong. When after the crew unanimously voted him out, Stede brought him back to the ship literally that same evening, and Ed saw no problem with that. Okay... maybe he's still processing?

Then e5 came, and that episode was about Ed's redemption. Yay! Except... Ed didn't seem to care? Other people made him wear the bag and the bell. He asked how long it'd take people to get over it, guessing "like a day." He gave an influencer-esque non-apology to the crew. He said "I took a man's leg" rather than calling Izzy by name. He literally doesn't remember the circumstances of pushing Lucius off the boat. He does ultimately give a real apology to Fang—for tormenting him years ago, rather than anything from his actual kraken era. I love e5 for the Izzy+Stede dynamic, but watching Ed be an unrepentant asshole here is painful. There is nothing about this that convinces me Ed wouldn't slide right back to being evil if Stede were to leave again.

And the thing is, it didn't have to be like this! We could have gotten Ed breaking down crying with guilt like in s1e6, and it would have made him much more sympathetic—not to mention the fact that Ed really is just an adorable cryer. Alternatively, we could have had some real deep diving about why Ed never apologizes (is he afraid of seeming weak?) or why he's so uncaring about others' pain (has he seen too many friends die over the years, to the point of going numb?)

By episode 6, it seems like most characters have moved on. Stede says something about Ed turning poison into positivity, which feels completely unearned. He pays for the party—but he'd previously tried to make the crew throw their cut of the loot into the ocean. He makes some attempts to best Ned and protect Stede, but Stede ends up saving the crew instead—from a pirate who only showed up in the first place because Ed was intentionally trying to piss him off. Ed is sad that Stede kills someone, and this would be a great time to again make Ed sympathetic! To have him talk about how he doesn't want that for Stede, because his own violence has weighed on him so deeply. But nope.

E6 does see Ed actually apologize to Izzy—and he's terrible at it. He's just like, "Sorry about your leg," makes no eye contact, and flees immediately afterwards. We do see some hints that this shitty apology isn't really indicative of Ed's true feelings, given how he has those flashbacks to the scenes of hurting Izzy seemingly haunting him; but it's very brief. It would be a great time to address Ed's horrific tendency towards conflict-aversion and avoiding awkward conversations in relationships—the same tendency that made s1 Ed never inform Izzy that the plan to kill Stede and the Revenge crew had changed. This would be another great opportunity to help us sympathize with Ed again—to have us see how it's not that he doesn't want to communicate these things, it's that these conversations are terribly stressful and anxiety-inducing for him. But nah, why would OFMD need to include those things for Ed?

E7 happens, and still nothing. If anything, there was a great opportunity for Ed to at least show himself to be a kind person to Stede—maybe nobly stepping in to save the day, even though he's annoyed that Stede's getting all this attention now. You know, like Stede did for him back in s1e5, when the situation was reversed. But nope, Ed runs off to be a fisherman, not having learned any of the earlier season's lessons about whims. He only stops being a fisherman because he's bad at it.

I was still hoping for something big in e8–some huge selfless, gesture that Ed would do to cover for all of his inability to do the little gestures. Ed is good at grand gestures! Swimming back to the ship after he left, then taking the Act of Grace in s1 was HUGE. Very selfless, very sweet! He could have done something like that for Izzy, Lucius, and the traumatized crew. Some kind of heroic gesture to help others more than himself. But nope. In some sense, Izzy dying is one of the greatest indications of Ed's wasted potential, because we narratively had a great opportunity for Ed to be able to save someone... but he didn't.

(Admittedly, Ed is not a complete dick here—he helps Izzy when he's limping, he says some genuinely apologetic stuff when Izzy's dying, and he finally gives Izzy his attention and care. But then after the funeral, he's still like "Well, that's that.")

It's so frustrating. It's not that I don't want to like Ed, or that I don't want to sympathize with him. I really, REALLY do! I don't even need Ed to successfully do anything to earn forgiveness! I'd take Ed trying and failing. I'd take him wanting to try, but being so convinced of his monstrousness that he never makes the attempt. But give me something. Anything other than the unexamined apathy that he has so much of the time.

The thing is, s2 lost the ability for Ed's mistreatment of people to be just another "of course he's violent, he's a pirate" quirk. They were pretty explicit about how abusive Ed was (Jim's comment in e1, the joke in e4 people assumed Ed had hit Stede) and how much he traumatized people (Lucius and the whole crew very clearly have PTSD in episodes 4 and 5). This is serious stuff, which he did to other main characters, which is going to make a lot of viewers look at him pretty harshly.

And that's manageable—Hannibal Lector managed to be most textbook-abusive asshole in the world, committing atrocities and generally being unrepentant left and right, and viewers STILL found him lovable and sympathetic. You can do that! But you need to:

a. make it clear that anyone with the relevant information calls them out for being awful, even multiple episodes later

b. make it clear that they care deeply and genuinely about their wronged loved ones

c. make them willing to actually make REAL sacrifices

I watched so many people start to dislike or outright hate Ed in season 2. It made me really sad. But I couldn't blame them for feeling that way. For all that Ed is supposedly one of the two protagonists in OFMD—a character whose mistakes should be the most understandable, whose mental state should be the most resonant—the show seemed to entirely drop the ball on writing him as such.

#edward teach #ofmd critical #ofmd season 2 #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #arguably the writers' mistake with Izzy is easier to fix in fanfiction #just undo the last 10 minutes #but now I feel like Ed fics after s2 have to fix huge chunks of his characterization #I also think it'd be more reasonable to make Ed not give a shit about the crew if the show just like... admitted that directly?#but we've got Stede making comments about Ed turning poison into positivity #we've got Izzy saying the crew loves Ed and is his family #and while it's not OOC for either of them to just be delusional and overprojecting their own love for Ed #it's weirdly unexamined #same thing with Ed's “I don't kill people thing” after he murders British officers left and right in s2e8 #was Ed's whole talk with Stede in s1e6 just a lie?#obviously Ed was stretching definitions / using it as a coping mechanism but I thought he was at least telling the truth as he saw it

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tojiscumdumpster · 4 months

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CHAPTER SEVEN - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Within the next few minutes, I’ll be dead. I knew this the moment I saw that blue-eyed freak reappear after when I thought I killed him. Fucking sorcerers and their cursed technique bullshit. Maybe I was too confident thinking I would win the second time. I doubted myself at first, but then I calmed down… No.

I was just too confident.

A world like this wasn’t meant for a monkey like me. I was born into a fucked up family that treated me like shit because I didn’t have any cursed technique. The scar on my lip reminds me of it every day. I got over it, though. I accepted this was my faith. I served my purpose, and it was time for me to go.

Still, I can’t help but wish I made it out alive. That I had a little bit more time.

“Nah,” I replied, vaguely.

How am I supposed to answer some cliché question like that?

Any last words?

Why would I tell him that?

Tell him about the thoughts and images that’s in my head.

Tell him that I had a wife who I actually saw some good in me. Good enough to get pregnant and raise a kid together. Tch, me? Toji Fushiguro? A husband and father? I never thought I would live to see the day. And of course, it didn’t last long.

My wife died because of an incurable sickness. I never felt pain before. Not when I’m standing here with half my body blown off. Not when my family tortured me. But the day she died, I felt pain. I didn’t cry. I just felt empty. Felt like I had no reason to be decent anymore. How was I supposed to raise a kid by myself?

She told me I was going to be okay.

I wasn’t okay.

I’m a fucked a person.

A fucked up father.

. . . I was never made to be a fucking dad. Me selling my son to my family is better than what I could’ve done for him. It wouldn’t make any difference if I was or was not in his life because I would never be good enough to be a father. . . A person. . . But I met. . . Her.

In my final moments, I think of my late wife, my son, and—

“Dad!” Megumi’s deafening voice wakes me up. “It’s almost five. We have to go to the store.”

What the…

What the fuck was that?

Lately my mind has been clogged with thoughts and what feels like memories I used to have. Could never decipher them, but that dream was probably the clearest I had.

Me being on the verge of death (wouldn’t be the first time), apparently being killed by some blue-eyed fuck. Giving Megumi away to the Zen’in Family? Like fucking hell. I would endure the shit they put me through every day for the rest of my life knowing it would keep my kid safe. I just don’t understand these dreams I’ve been having.

Are they signs? Is my judgment day coming where I would have to atone to my sins? Some bad shit about to happen to me? Megumi? I don’t fucking know.

I don’t care for karma. I don’t care for faith, destiny, or any of that manifestation bullshit. But I do believe in purpose, and sometimes I feel like I don’t have any. That there isn’t any.

I’m a dad. For what? To fail my son. I was a husband, had my flaws but shit, I tried. And for what? To lose her only after being parents together for eight years? It was unexpected. Nature calling, and at the moment, I never hated whatever fucking god above so much because they took her away from me.

From me and Megumi.

Please take care of Megumi.

It’s like I can hear her lecturing me about all the times I had our kid eating take out or having him walk home alone from school.

Take care of Megumi. . . Yeah, I’m trying.

I have to do better.

I need to.

The little purpose I have is left for him.

“If you can’t go anymore, can you at least give me the money so I can go by my-”

“No,” I interrupted, clearing my throat. “No, let’s go. Sorry, kid. Your old man was dozing off.”

Here’s another thing about being a parent. Being around other parents who force small talk while their kids go off and buy shit. Because we’re parents, that means we have to share funny stories and randomly show baby photos to people you don’t even fucking know. Why? I don’t know, but I bet the mom next to me that has been talking my ears out for the past fifteen minutes could tell you.

Having Megumi as my kid means he’s going to have most, if not some, of my traits. One of them being how much of a loner I am that appreciates his space. After my failed attempt to walk around with the kid to maybe have some father-son bonding, I figured I just stand at a comfortable distance and let him do his own thing.

No pressure. I’m on his time. Not the other way around.

Still, me standing alone was not a fucking invitation to talk to me.

I respect women. I do, but I’m two seconds away from telling her to fuck off in the nicest way possible.

Though, I have a reason why she approached me to begin with.

How she’s invading my space, trying her hardest for me to look at her tits. The extra pout she gives her lips while talking to me. How she’s still asking me one off questions, despite my vague one word answers.

She’s looking to get fucked, but she’s just too shy to say it.

Attractive for most part. Probably five-foot-ten, maybe in her late thirties. Strong perfume. Hair drops right below her jaw.

Hm, not my type.

“So, here’s another photo-”

“Sorry, why are you showing me these again?” I abruptly asked.

“I—” she stumbles over her words, pushing her hair back while giving me a timid smile.

“Seems like you had other reasons.”

“Like?”

I shrug. “To get fucked.” I can tell that my brute honesty throws her off a bit, but she gathers herself.

“Are you offering?”

“No.”

She’s probably taken back by my response. I wouldn’t know because I casually walked away to the next aisle.

Back in Tokyo, I gained attention, but in America? The women here look at me like I’m a fucking piece of meat. Not that I don’t mind, but shit.

What would help if they didn’t waste both our time with trivial chit chat and just cut straight to the chase.

Anyways.

Told the kid I’ll be walking around the store if he needs me, and of course he replies with whatever . Like I should be surprised.

He’s my son, after all.

Pretty packed for a Tuesday night at the store. Guess all the parents are out buying their kids shit, too. While Megumi is getting his supplies together, figured I could go to the meat section to make dinner tonight. Probably hot pot for the kid and offal for me.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this parenting shit right. You know, letting Megumi be by himself to buy things while I roam around. Probably not because I see families throughout the store and they look happy, for the most part.

The look on their faces, the light conversations they’re having about who knows what. . . I can tell this is going to be one of those fucking nights for me.

Remember there was a point in my life where I was content with the small family I created. My wife. Megumi. Living in the shittiest apartment building back in Tokyo and barely making ends meet.

I came from a wealthy family. One of the wealthiest in Japan. I was supposed to be a silver spooned brat that was grateful to be born into money, only later to be beaten and emotionally abused, which eventually left me in the streets.

And you know after all the shit those Zen’in fucks put me through regardless of the amount of money I had access to, I’d always choose what I had with my wife and my strained relationship with Megumi.

But of course, any good that happens to me is only temporary. Can only imagine how long I have left with Megumi until he turns eighteen and moves far away from me if he decides to go to college.

Is it wrong for me to wish my kid would cut me some slack? Probably, but that’s not something I would ever ask him. Though, I can fucking admit that it stings how he addresses me has changed over time.

Daddy to Papa, now to Dad. Soon he’ll start being formal and shit by calling me father or even my first name. I guess I should be grateful he’s calling me anything at all.

Damn, if I liked alcohol, I would’ve said I need a drink right now. Maybe a few. Being in family settings makes me feel the emotion I hate feeling the most. Vulnerability .

It makes me feel weak, like I’m pitying myself. I don’t care for pity. I don't care to say I didn’t deserve to experience trauma. It happened. There’s shit I can do about it. No point for me to keep thinking about it.

It’s just hard when your son doesn’t even want to be seen with you in public to go school supply shopping.

I need to clear my head.

Already worked out twice today, and clearly that’s not working. Maybe some pussy. It’s been a while since I last had sex. Maybe I need…

Y/N .

Here I am again thinking about her at the most random fucking times. I said I need her. Would I ever tell her that? Most likely not.

How can I tell a woman that I don’t know that I need her? To be around her and have her bubbly personality overshadow my grumpiness. To stare at her in dead silence and think how fucking pretty she is. How good she smells. How can I tell Y/N that?

She’s good company.

That’s all she is…

Soon she’ll see I’m no good.

“Miss L /N told me you’ve been doing good in class, kid.”

Been home with Megumi for about two hours now. School shopping is not fucking cheap, to say the least. My job pays well, but the cost of shit in America is still something I’m trying to adjust to, especially in comparison to Japan.

Megumi is the only reason why I haven’t gotten broke yet.

“Yeah,” he responds flatly.

I stuff my mouth with a piece of meat. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright.”

There goes that loud silence.

I continue, trying to keep conversation. “Food's good?” He nods. “Think you got everything you needed for school?”

“Yes, Dad.” Annoyance fills his voice, making it very clear that I’m bothering him.

“Everything’s okay?” I asked.

“Can’t we just eat in silence? Why are you forcing conversation?”

Oh.

“Sorry, kid. Just trying-”

Megumi pushes back his chair, standing up with his plate in his hand. “I’m going to my room. Thanks for dinner.”

What the fuck am I doing wrong?

I talk, he’s annoyed with me. I don’t talk, I feel like he’s being neglected again. Not sure if I’m giving Megumi too much space or just enough space, but it’s kind of fucking hard when I don’t how he feels.

When you come from an abusive family that doesn't know how to give or receive love, it passes onto you and potentially it’ll pass onto your child.

That’s what I’m trying to prevent.

I was scared as shit when my wife first told me she was pregnant. I mean, how the fuck was I supposed to be a dad? I don't know what it feels like to have one. But I knew I was going to be okay if I had her by my side.

I’m a fucked up person. . . A fucked up father.

“Fuck, I need to take a walk,” I say to myself.

I get up to put the leftovers in the oven so I can finish later. Before I walk out the door, I tell Megumi I’m stepping out for a while and guess what he says?

Whatever.

Patience, Fushiguro. Patience.

Be kind to yourself, Toji . That’s what Y/N told me the other day. I have messaged or contacted her at all since I got her number yesterday. Maybe I need to talk to her… see her… just for a little bit.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #3 — the more we see toji and megumi's relationship, struggles are shown between them. more so, on toji's part. do you think he should continue making small talk or allow megumi to come around whenever he's ready? looks like toji is afraid to let that happen because he doesn't want megumi to feel neglected. thoughts?

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musclesandhammering · 5 months

Text

Unpopular Phase 4 & 5 Opinions

Quantumania is the worst Phase 4/5 movie. And it wasn’t even because “kang got beat by ants.” (I liked kang in this movie). It’s just that the Spy Kids aesthetic & bad acting & overall weird vibes just weren’t for me.

Love and Thunder is no worse than Ragnarok. I would argue that it’s better in a lot of ways, actually. I really liked it.

Taika Waititi ruined thor with bad humour all the way back in Ragnarok tbh, but y’all weren’t complaining about it then 😒.

BuckySarah is better than sambucky every day of the week.

The Marvels was a good ass movie & they’re one of my favorite teams in the mcu. I’ll never forgive cbm sites & online dudebros for killing the hype from the moment the film was announced.

I adore America Chavez & Kamala Kahn and I want to see them in everything. They must be protected at all costs.

Multiverse of Madness had shitty characterisation & basically just copy-pasted the ‘grief made me go off the deep end & hurt people, then I realised and stopped myself’ storyline from Wandavision… but Wanda was extremely selfish & apathetic to other people’s suffering from the time she was introduced in the mcu. MoM didn’t make her like that.

Wanda should’ve been looking for Vision (her actual real life boyfriend whom she spent years with irl) in MoM instead of the kids that weren’t even real that she spent like a week using as characters in her sitcom.

Making everyone forget Peter Parker wasn’t profound or poetic in any way- it was just frustrating and needlessly cruel.

I’m begging marvel to understand that heroes don’t have to be in constant suffering to be heroic & villains don’t have to sacrifice themselves to achieve redemption. Let characters heal and atone, you absolute weirdos.

What If…? is the most boring show ever. I’d rather watch Secret Invasion or She-Hulk.

Season 2 of Loki is, in a cinematic & artistic sense, the best marvel project period.

Loki season 1 was meh- more of a fun au than anything because his characterisation kinda sucked. Season 2 fixed it, though, and made it way easier for me to incorporate this version of Loki back into the larger mcu.

Having Steve stay in the past with Peggy was stupid af.

I don’t hate Peggy (or Captain Carter), though. I actually think she’s pretty cool.

I don’t really love Steve. He’s arrogant & they never really let him have flaws & something about him being a perfect metaphor for the American military industrial complex (and marvel painting that as a good thing) doesn’t sit right with me.

The Illuminati got done dirty and the only reason they went down so fast was because Wanda had all that plot armor.

I thought the retcon of having Wanda be “destined” to become the Scarlet Witch since birth was an annoying cop-out. Her powers originating from being experimented on with an infinity stone was way more interesting.

Loki & Wanda have almost the exact same powers.

Nebula deserved a bigger rule in killing Thanos & everything else moving forward.

I love Kathryn Newton but her acting as Cassie Lang was the worst acting I’ve ever seen in the mcu, like it was outrageously bad.

I’m glad Sam is the new Captain America and not Bucky.

The fact that Bucky probably isn’t gonna be one of Thee lead characters in the upcoming avengers movies feels sick and twisted.

Secret Invasion was actually passable until the G’iah scene at the end. That ruined it. And Nick Fury deserved way better for his solo series.

Kang is so much more interesting than Doctor Doom. I really hope they just recast him.

Carol Danvers does NOT deserve the hate she gets.

I actually disliked Carol until The Marvels. That movie made me a stan.

The way people treat Monica as Wanda’s little inferior pet creation or smth & then brag about it is uhh very sus.

I don’t like sylvie (bc she’s an amalgamation of 3 different comic characters- which killed any hopes of them appearing individually in the mcu, the creators used her existence to butcher Loki’s genderfluid rep, & she was written poorly) & I HATE sylki (bc it’s weird & unnecessary).

Marvel isn’t dead. I actually love where they’re taking things. But that’s just me.

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good-beanswrites · 5 months

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#i have a lot of thoughts on why amane accepting shidous help wouldnt help either of them but thats rambling for another day lmao

hello it is another day 👀 can I hear your thoughts on why shidou and amane wouldn't be helped by him trying to help her?

Ah yes!! I'll start off by saying I love Shidou a lot and think he's very capable, loving, and is a really good father -- I mean no slight to him when I say he would only make things worse for Amane if they became close like he wants. The short version is that neither of them will get what they want out of this new relationship, to no fault of their own. But by getting together in the first place, they give each other the illusion that they can get these things, which only makes the loss worse.

Shidou is grieving a sudden, intense loss. He thinks that he wants to keep being a father. He thinks that he misses taking care of his little girl and that by caring for Amane he can get that feeling back/atone for what he’s done. But what he needs is time and space to mourn such a sudden tragedy. I don’t know what you call a familial rebound, but that’s exactly what Amane would be. He does genuinely want to help, he’s not like “using her” or anything. But he is subconsciously expecting her presence to fix something for both of them. He desperately wants to fill a gap in his life, and her role as replacement for what he lost would become more and more clear. Maybe he doesn't want to replace them, but sees saving her as a way to atone for the children he couldn't save. No matter how much love he pours on her -- no matter if she's able to overcome her feelings and return his love tenfold -- it won’t fix what's actually broken.

And it would be the same for her: rushing into a new family wouldn’t give her back the parents/childhood she lost. After thinking so highly of her father, she’d have really high expectations for Shidou. She may be able to recognize how her father hurt her, but it’ll be hard to break away from the intense respect she has for him. She’ll always be wanting more from Shidou, both in his character and also the unconditional love she’d been denied. And while his love may be unconditional, it will always be affected by his love for his past family. All of his techniques for caring for her were tested on his kids first (he makes her desserts he know his kids liked, takes her places he took his family, etc). It's not a bad thing on it's own (in almost any other case it would be a really good thing that he has firsthand experience), but given Amane's specific past, this will hurt her a lot. She will always be reminded that those kids came first. She’s so used to adults putting the cult before her, this will feel the same. She’ll always feel like living in something's shadow.

And I know people are adaptable, but I think her joining Shidou’s life would just be such a challenge for both of them. Shidou built a family with loved ones, and now he has to start a new life as a single father to a strange child whose mind works very different than the average population. He mentions he relied on his wife for household things -- now he must learn to cook and clean while also struggling with cult deprogramming techniques. All of his energy would be consumed with helping her change and adapt, instead of properly processing both of their emotions with grief and guilt. Unprocessed emotions like that can only come out harmfully, then. Even if Amane suddenly develops the most open mind in the world, it’ll be such a jarring switch going from her cult completely against medicine to a doctor’s household in which science always triumphs over spirituality. So much of Shidou’s core being is tied to the most awful and traumatizing events of Amane’s life -- that’ll be a huge obstacle for them to overcome, no matter how open to healing they both are.

The problem is, I recognize Amane's rejection isn't good for either of them. With Shidou's emotions, being so violently hated by a child only sends him deeper into grief. It makes the loss feel worse. And similarly, Amane's rejection denies her of someone who genuinely wants to care for her -- she's missing out on necessary physical, mental, emotional support. It's a lose-lose for the two of them, and I'm very compelled by it :(

Buuut, if I can indulge in my more personal thoughts for a sec, that's why I like to think about Mahiru taking her in! She specifically wanted new kids. She's literally prepared her life to take on a new child in her home. Even without the help of a partner, she excels at cooking, cleaning, keeping house, etc. Amane really does fill part of the gap Mahiru has always longed for. Though she won't get her childhood back, Amane will finally be an adults number one priority, no strings attached. Mahiru will absolutely smother her in love, her tendency to go overboard making up with Amane's deficiency of parental care. I think Mahiru's "let everyone stick to their own code" mindset will need some work, but at least it allows Amane's transition to be much easier. Mahiru is in support of Amane following what she believes, rather than live a lifestyle that actively denounces her. Shidou can still visit and help, giving him the perfect amount of interaction to heal him, and offer Amane something real and kind. I know it wouldn't be perfect under Mahiru, they're situation is fucked up enough to take a lot of painful work, but I really think she'd be the best to take care of her <3

#milgram #amane momose #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #thank you so much for the ask!!#i feel very strongly about it asdfsd so it makes me happy someone was interested #and feel free to tell me you guys' thoughts!#im never against seeing amane and shidou helping each other like that #i may not think it would work but im always happy to see them happy ;-; (and the writer happy!)#i actually think it would be good for both of them after a few years -- but by then amane would already be grown and it wouldnt work #asdfsad sorry for so much rambling but thank you! 😅#ask #analysis/thoughts #tw cults

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yandere-daze · 1 year

Note

Congrats on reaching 2k! You absolutley deserve it :D

Could I request a Shu and Mika headcanon on how they would try and make the reader forgive them in the imposter self aware au?

Thank you! I assume you probably just made a typo and put 2 instead of 3 there jfsn

And yes, I´m always happy to write for Valkyire, you know me too well ☺️

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, mention of bad previous treatment of the reader, mention of murder, self-deprecation ( Mika), self-dollification ( Mika), mention of verbal abuse, unhealthy mindsets ( both), overworking ( Shu)

How would Mika try to make the player forgive him in the imposter self-aware AU?

With how far Mika is willing to go for the people he loves, he was probably pretty nasty to you when you first were transported into the game and everyone thought that you were responsible for the disappearance of their beloved player.

Mika gets attached so easily to the point that it´s kind of scary so that obviously means he´s also super obsessed with the player, who spends so much time taking care of him and looking out for him. He´s so starved for love that he soaked up every little bit of attention he was getting from the player, even if he didn´t feel worthy of it

But then one day, the player simply left him and you appeared instead? Mika wouldn´t call himself the smartest person out there but he can figure out just fine that you must be responsible and it´s an understatement when I say that he isn´t very pleased

Honestly? Good for you for even surviving because there´s no doubt in my mind that Mika would resort to killing you out of anger and desperation because you´re the “reason” the player left him

Other than that very extreme scenario he also isn´t all that nice to you, which is kind of rare to see from him. But how can he be nice to someone like you that took away the most important person in his life? How dare you?!

Which is exactly why he´s shell-shocked when he finally finds out that you actually are the player and he´s been so cruel to you all this time. Immediately gets on his knees and bows his head while breaking out into sobs, apologizing profusely for treating you so cruelly and saying all of these mean things as he clings to your legs

He truly is so sorry! How can he ever make up for this grave mistake?

Honestly almost throws in the towel at first as he doesn´t think that there is any way to make up for what he did. From the very beginning, he already believed that he wasn´t worthy of being in your presence, of receiving your kindness and warmth. He was dirty and would only taint your saintly body

But now? Oh, it´s simply hopeless! How dare someone like him, who is completely beneath you, treat you like this? He truly has done something completely unacceptable and he´s unsure of what to do, he just knows that he has to atone for his sins somehow

Mika is so scared that you´re going to abandon him now, throwing him away like the piece of trash he is. And he understands why you would, he really does, which is why he´s all the more desperate now. He feels that he has to prove to you that he still has his uses, that he´s your pliable doll completely devoted to you and willing to do anything you ask of him

So his way of making it up to you is basically becoming your servant, willing to complete whatever task you ask of him because he thinks that if he proves to be useful, you might find it in your heart to at least tolerate his presence, even if you can´t forgive him.

And as long as he gets to stay by your side, Mika is more than happy to let you control him as you please, all while obsessively thanking you for granting him mercy

How would Shu try to make the player forgive him in the imposter self-aware AU?

While not physically violent or downright murderous like Mika, Shu definitely wasn´t kind to you either, to say the least. He´s already pretty rude and snappish to the other idols he holds no grudge for so just imagine the amount of verbal abuse you must have suffered at his hands when he saw you as the reason why his muse left him behind

At first, Shu might have assumed that the reason you left was that his efforts weren´t enough to impress you, which led to him throwing himself back into work to try and make something new that would please you, but the more time passes, the more he thinks that it´s strangely convenient timing for you to appear right around the time the player disappeared

While he was gruff to you before, now he outright takes some sort of pleasure in talking you down as it only seems fitting for what you have caused. And he just gets worse the more you try to be friendly to him, asking you how you dare show your face in front of him. How he finds you reprehensible

Naturally, there´s a nagging feeling of guilt hidden deep within him when the truth finally comes to light and he realizes that he´s done you a great disservice. All this time, you were his muse, the light of his life, and yet he chased you away when you had greeted him with open arms of your own volition. Oh, how he wished to slap his past self now!

You were the most divine creature walking this earth, blessed by the heavens itself, and yet he said all these horrible things to you

He wants to make it up to you to get back in your good graces but he doesn´t really know how to proceed. Shu has a lot of difficulties with being honest and conveying his true feelings to someone because deep down he is still scarred by his childhood and the rejection he felt due to his family never supporting him in his passions. He has long since closed off his heart and so only with a great deal of effort from both sides is he able to open up

But now that you most likely despise you for treating you so horribly, Shu is all the more reluctant to approach you, fearing that you might flinch away as soon as he extends a hand towards you.

He has many discussions with Mademoiselle where he spills all of his worries to her and she tries her best to comfort him all while giving him some advice. She had always been there for him and that´s also true now.

Mademoiselle tells Shu that she´s more than happy to talk to you on his behalf if he doesn´t feel ready to do so just yet. She reasons that it might help break down the barriers that he had created between you. She´s also just very excited to have a proper chat with you!

Meanwhile, Shu goes back to what he knows best to try and make you forgive him: creating wonderful and awe-inspiring outfits.

Though he´s horrible with words, Shu hopes that his feelings will get through to you with this outfit he´s making just for you. He spends days upon days working on the outfit until the late night hours when it´s already gotten dark outside. He´s barely even taking care of himself, instead tirelessly working as if his life depended on it

And well, to him it did. Having his darling forgive him is the only thing he wants. He truly doesn´t know what he would do if you would still reject him after all of this

Maybe this is why he´s even more of a perfectionist than he usually is, nearly ripping out his own hair when he sees even the slightest imperfection that no one else aside from him would even notice. No, this has to be absolutely perfect for you and he won´t rest until it is!

It´s like he´s possessed, never even giving himself a break until he is finally satisfied with the final outcome

Of course, the outfit fits you absolutely perfectly in the end and you can´t help but wonder wherever Shu got your exact measurements from

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andraste-preserve-us · 6 months

Note

hi i have cullen thoughts for you <3 do you ever think about a mage trevelyan who had a Bad Time in the circle and how she and Cullen would get past the whole mage/templar mistrust and trauma thing?? it’s one of my fave fic tropes and i’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

Hi! Yes, I do. I actually had a whole fic with my mage inquisitor, Margo Trevelyan (my profile pic), who had that exact situation. I orphaned the fic on AO3 a while back, since it became really big and I just couldn't keep up with it, but I'm thinking of revamping it into a different version where Margo is actually the inquisitor's little sister who shows up at Haven insisting she help.

But anyway. In my original fic, because of her Bad Time at the Circle, she doesn't particularly trust Templars. She doesn't hate them, but isn't usually ready to get cozy super fast either. So she's not very forthcoming with information about her past trauma. However, she and Cullen are still very drawn to each other and become good friends. He does slip up from time to time though and there was one chapter where he made a comment about how she was different because she was more "responsible" with her magic than other mages he'd met and she really let him have it - she did still explain things to him without being rude or insulting, but was very visibly angry as she did so and they struggled a lot in the beginning because Margo would assume he was less and less safe with each comment like that while Cullen's facepalming in his quarters like "why did I have to put my foot in my mouth." With the stress of being the Herald, everything kind of gets to her and she starts isolating a lot and Cullen feels extra guilty.

I think a similar situation would happen with any sort of mage inquisitor, but I also think by this point, Cullen is committed to making a different path for himself. I feel like the "mages cannot be treated like people" comment and sentiments from DA2 probably still haunt him and he's determined not to have a repeat (re: his comment in DAI "the inquisition is my chance to atone"). So I think he would really try to make amends and open up about exactly why he's so jittery around magic, then maybe ask if they'd consider helping him overcome it (which was the plan with Margo before I orphaned the fic and she ends up giving him kind of magic lessons? Obviously he can't do magic, but knowing the mechanics of it really lessons the fear for him).

I think even after that, it would still be something that occasionally triggers him and something a mage inquisitor would have to be mindful of. He would never expect them to not use magic at all in front of him, but he really appreciates when they're able, giving him a heads up before they do any big spells or ask if they can use magic to heal him/help soothe his withdrawal symptoms. I think especially if he was having an episode, respecting his boundaries of not using magic at that time unless they absolutely have to would be a big one.

I think overall, a relationship between him and a mage inquisitor would take a lot of tactful, respectful communication, understanding, and patience - but also that's most healthy adult relationships, and I feel if Cullen really cared for and saw a future with someone, he would be determined to get it right and eventually, I could see him being a lot less triggered by magic in general and actually find it kind of beautiful (sorry this got so long, this is a topic I really enjoy talking about).

#dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #dai #commander cullen #cullen x inquisitor #dragon age #da #cullen x trevelyan #cullen x mage inquisitor #margo trevelyan #mage trevelyan #mage lavellan #cullen x margo

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toujokaname · 1 year

Text

Get Along / Episode 1

Author: Kino Seitaro with Akira

Characters: Hokuto, Kanata, Tatsumi, Arashi, Hiyori

"My wish is: "I want to make this the best broadcast in the history of the program.""

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Location: Old Seisoukan Building

Season: Winter

Time: An hour later.

Hokuto: So this is the room where ALKALOID spent time in the old building.

It's very neat and clean. I expected something more old-fashioned from the name of the old building. It's a fine place to live in for a few days.

Kanata: The water from the "shower" is running too~ It looks like I will not have trouble "bathing" from now on.

Tatsumi: Fufu. What kind of room were you both imagining?

Even though it's an old building, it's still occasionally used for programs such as "Bogie Time". It seems to be cleaned frequently by a cleaning company.

Arashi: Ufufu. Then it's perfect for our training camp ♪

But I was in a hurry 'cause you just didn't give us enough time to prepare. I had to rush to bring my make-up and beauty products from my dorm room.

Hiyori: Though that's also an important attitude to keep in mind when performing "Princess Kaguya"! The reading drama is a story about making a friend's "wish" come true right on the day of graduation―

As a part of fleshing out the characters, we need to be able to handle these kinds of unreasonable demands[1], don't we?

Arashi: Oh my. It seems like Tomoe-senpai quickly went into work mode.

Tatsumi: He's quite strict. It appears we won't be able to relax from now on.

Hiyori: Really? I think this much is to be expected of an ES idol―

...I know. I have a good idea, will you listen to it?

Tatsumi: A good idea, you say?

Hiyori: Yup. Since we're going to live together to prepare for our roles, why don't we all write our "wishes" on a piece of paper?

We will make everyone's "wishes" come true one by one―this way, we can deepen our relationships through resolution!

So, there you have it. I've already written it down on a notepad, so I'll announce mine first!

As the leader, I want to make this Shuffle Project a success. That's my "wish" ☆

Tatsumi: Hm. It's a good initiative. It will help us make the most of the short time we have before the performance.

Well then, here's what I wrote―"I want to help grant Hokuto-san's wish." How's that?

Hokuto: My wish...?

Tatsumi: Yes. I did terrible things to you during the SS preliminaries in Hokkaido. It would make me happy to be able to atone for them.

Hokuto: No need, Kazehaya-senpai. Don't worry about that.

It was a competition. For ALKALOID to beat us Trickstar, you needed to use any means at your disposal.

I'm in favor of granting wishes, but I don't want you to make assumptions about my feelings.

Even though we're in a temporary unit, we're all working toward the same goal now, aren't we?

Tatsumi: Hokuto-san―I appreciate your thoughtfulness.

Then, shall I come up with another "wish" for myself? Of course, I'd like to take this opportunity to do good deeds, without taking advantage of Hokuto-san's kindness.

Kanata: Fufu. Tatsumi and Hokuto seem to be "good friends" already, I'm envious.

"Shuffle Units" are made up of people who have less "interaction" with each other than in regular "units"~ So granting each other's "wishes" is not a bad idea.

I'm used to making "wishes" come true, aren't I?

Tatsumi: ? Somehow it feels like there might be a hidden meaning in your words... Perhaps you have some experience in volunteer work?

Kanata: Fufu. I do not ♪

Well then, my wish is to "take a "bath" with everyone" ♪

Arashi: A bath in the winter...? It'd be better to do it in, like, a hot spring or something, or else we'd catch a cold.

Hiyori: But even that kind of unreasonable thing is fine! Compared to Princess Kaguya's unreasonable demands, it's not unattainable―

Does anyone else want to share their "wish"? Don't hesitate to speak up ♪

Arashi: Ufufu. Alright, I'll announce mine next.

"I want to dress everyone up in cute matching outfits"... How's that ♪

Hokuto: Matching...?

Arashi: Yup. It's better to have a wish that can't be easily granted, isn't it? I really wanted to take this chance and make everyone look pretty.

I think all the seniors and Hokuto-chan have the potential for it ♪ So please please pleeease ♪

Hokuto: U-Um, I see. I don't want to imagine it too much, but I suppose it's all for the sake of the role.

Hokuto: Then, I will also announce my "wish".

My wish is: "I want to make this the best broadcast in the history of the program." After all, I want to devote my utmost effort to doing this.

Hiyori: Mm~ That's a given, don't you think? Since we're going out of our way to imitate Princess Kaguya, you should make it a more challenging "wish"!

Tatsumi: Fufu. I think it would be challenging enough just to get the five of us to be in sync.

Mutual understanding is not easy―that is why we find joy in communicating with each other.

Therefore. My "wish" is that we all "become friends who are able to share our feelings and worries with each other" ♪

Hiyori: Hmm. That's pretty vague... Welp, it's fine, there's nothing more unproductive than forcing people to create problems they don't have―

And like I said, my wish is to lead this Shuffle Project into success.

Fufu. Let us live together from today forth! My dear friends of Getto Spectacle!

The phrasing of "unreasonable demands" is a reference to Princess Kaguya, since in the story, she gives her suitors impossible tasks to complete for her hand in marriage.

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#kino seitaro #akira #event story #princess kaguya #hokuto #kanata #tatsumi #arashi #hiyori

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awaytobeunshaken · 1 year

Text

Angstpril 2023 - Day 10: Sacrifice

“Letters! Over here!” Ashton calls, shifting their gaze between the automaton in the distance and the halfling lying beside them.

“I’m good,” Orym mutters weakly. “Just gotta… rub some dirt on it. They can take care of the others.”

“You know, you’re almost as bad as he is. No fucking sense of self-preservation whatsoever.” Ashton’s sitting with his hands wrapped around his knees, facing Orym’s direction but not meeting his eyes.

“We’ve all got our jobs to do,” Orym says, sitting up, his voice already sounding a bit stronger. “You take the big hits, I avoid them, we give everyone else room to do their stuff.”

“You can’t avoid everything. And if you’re down, what’s stopping anyone from stepping over you and heading straight for Fearne or Imogen or whoever? You can do your job without making yourself a target; most of us can take a hit or two if you need to regroup.”

“Who’s next, then? Who’s going to be the next one to die because I wasn’t able to protect them?”

“Yeah, I figured we’d be going here. And we both know it’s bullshit. Everything you’ve told me about Will and Derrig tells me they were just as capable as you are. They didn’t need your protection. Someone was gonna die that day; the ‘who’ was just chance.”

“No. Shit.” He puts a hand over Ashton’s forearm and squeezes. “Don’t you think I’ve played that through in my head, all the different ways it could have gone? In the heat of battle it’s all about instinct; how am I supposed to just turn off the one that says I need to do better this time, that I can’t let it happen again? Don’t pretend you don’t have one of those, too.”

“Fuck off.”

“No one left because you weren’t good enough for them, Ashton. They left because they had no choice, or they weren’t really your friends, or they were assholes. People that care about you don’t just run off because you’re not doing enough for them.”

“Maybe you’re right. That nobody who cared about me would. Guess that says a lot about me, then, that that’s all anyone’s ever done.”

ao3

“Ash.” And the look on Orym’s face punches him harder than any hit he ever took. “I—”

“Don’t. Just… fucking don’t. Grass! We could still use you over here!” Ashton slings the hammer over their shoulder and hurries away, trying to avoid any sign that something is wrong, but very much trying to escape the situation as quickly as possible.

He knows what Orym was about to say; that he cares, or at least thinks he does, like that means anything, like other people haven’t claimed it before. They could almost even believe it. It was pretty clear soon after they met that Orym wasn’t really okay either, as much as he tried to pretend otherwise, as much as his life was privileged by comparison to Ashton’s. It was one of the things that had drawn them to him in the first place, aside from the Ashari thing, of course. If that face, that attitude, could hide that pain, maybe Ashton wasn’t as fucked up as he thought. Or at least they were more aware of the fact.

Or maybe Orym was right, and neither of them could really escape their baggage. He’d always risk himself to atone for something he hadn’t done wrong, and Ashton would do the same to try and prove themself worthy of something they refused to name, that Orym insisted on trying to. But Ashton’s instinct to disbelieve it was as strong as Orym’s drive to protect at all costs.

Fresh Cut Grass has finished patching him up, and Orym is up and walking around now, but still looking lost, stealing glances in Ashton’s direction but not sure what the next step is. Ashton looks up, meeting Orym’s eyes the next time he glances over, and he approaches.

“I’m still not ready to hear it,” Ashton says as soon as Orym opens his mouth. “But I’m okay with knowing that you think it. And I’m glad you’re still here, and if I still think you’re gonna jump ship any day now, that’s not your fault. But I always feel like, you gotta be satisfied with today, because tomorrow it might all go to shit, and lately I sometimes feel like, maybe it won’t? So… yeah.” He keeps his gaze turned to the ground, hugging his knees, not wanting to see Orym’s reaction.

They feel it instead, Orym’s arms surrounding them from behind and it’s good but also not great but mostly it’s good. Maybe neither of them can be okay, but taking each day as it comes, at least the days with Orym in them are good ones.

#angstpril2023 #critical role #fanfic #day 10 #sacrifice #cr3 #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #ashrym #cr fic #my fic

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aces-and-kings · 9 months

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🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them? (All, because this seems like a fun thought exercise. :P)

[Brutal. Bru. tal. But indeed, fun. Let's do it! Under the cut due to length.]

. Thor: He is not the only man you're ever going to love. I know it hurts. I know you feel like you're not worth loving, that every time you try and do the right thing, that things start looking up for you, something goes wrong. You've taken more than any of my other oc and you're tired. Believe me, I get it, but it will get better. You will meet someone again someday and things will work out like they're supposed to. Hang in there buddy. And maaaybe if you want or something idk, cut back on the smoking. Just a suggestion.

. Seven: You can keep running. You can keep fucking up knowing that you're destroying everything good in your life every time it appears. You can keep feeling like a monster if that's what you like. Who am I to stop you, right? But, here's something to consider. You could... do some good with your abilities? Atone for the wrong you've done. I get that you feel beyond saving but you're not. Telling you to just stop doing bad won't help though, so just food for thought. One day someone is going to wake you up and I'd hate to be the skeletons in your closet the day you open that door, but you'll be alright.

. Alex: Welcome to the life of 90% of role-players cupcake. We read the grand adventures, we don't often go on them. Certainly not like in your world. Listen though, your bookshop is really important. You give people a place to rest, a place free of the outside world's chaos and for those, like you, like me, who can't go on some dragon slaying, saving, what have you grand journey, you provide the doorway to such experiences through books. So keep smiling, ay? You never know who's looking and just might find it captivating.

. Nikolai: I don't even know where to start with you buttercup. That's a dangerous game you're playing, putting all your eggs into someone else's basket. I mean I won't judge, because I get it. People can grow attached to pets, friends, partners etc. but if you don't find something of yourself to love and enjoy apart from your obsession with Sindri, a lot of shit out of your control is going to affect you negatively. Also you need to let that guy you're not into go. It's not right to string someone along just cause you'd rather avoid hurting their feelings. In doing that you're still hurting someone, it'll just be Sindri instead.

. Ravka: It's okay to just be yourself. For all the tranquility and self-discipline, for all the kindness and courageousness that makes up who you are, you are awfully ashamed of being Hrothgar. Yes, it does make you vastly different, and you probably feel caught between the world of beast and man. I can imagine how that leaves you feeling alone, and I'm sorry for that. At the end of the day though, you are who you are buddy. And that's going to be enough for the right people, or it isn't and they aren't.

. Grey: Hi, big fan. You amuse me a lot more than I let on to people. Unsolicited advice though? Stop hiding. You're Garlean, so what? A lot of people are. Your family had a history of raining horror down upon other nations, but you never willingly walked that path. You did what you felt you had to. That's called surviving my dude and you're forgiven for it. Perhaps not by all, but by me if no one else. You do not have to flash gil and lavish luxuries on people to be appreciated. And Seven is a horrible option for additional help but good job asking for some! I apologize Thor is being such a... Thor right now. Good luck and p.s. maybe grow the hair back out. I know you're digging this whole Red vibe atm, you want to honor him, I get it. Do you. Just a suggestion.

Thanks @hydaelyns-bitch, this was... cathartic and odd but indeed fun. lol

#asks #thorstyr helbwilfsyn #greyson evandrus #ravka kirigan #nikolai cross #alexander hawthorne #seven sato #4th wall break

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foxespen · 10 months

Text

Sins of the Father

Optimus had made many mistakes in his past, and he’s made just as many sacrifices to atone for them. But he may have gotten his second chance to make amends.

--- In their youth, Optimus and Elita-1 decided to take the next step and bring new life into the universe. After He lost his conjux, Optimus didn't feel worthy of being a sire and arranged for their sparkling to go somewhere safe. Stellacycles later, one conversation leads him to look further into Bumblebee's past, seeing too many connections to be a coincidence. Could the scout be his sparkling?

AO3 link

other chapters: 1, 3

Chapter 2

Part of being a good leader is being informed before making any brash decisions. Obviously, the practicality of this varies, you can’t always wait to take action. Optimus knows this possibly better than anyone, but he also knows what happens when you don’t have all the facts.

After all, loads of bots had yellow paint jobs, and even the orphanage wasn’t concrete evidence. So, Optimus spent the past few days simply observing and making notes on Bumblebee. He is energetic, often getting himself into trouble for a rush, and his peacocking sometimes rivaled even Sentinel’s. He is also stubborn and seems to have issues with authority, as his files stated. While digging around, Optimus found the report on how he once dropped a building on Sentinel and felt a little bad about the little laugh he had at that. He often goofs off, and seems to make a hobby out of bending the rules as far as he could.

He is also a very curious bot, taking to human culture immediately. He is alway the first one to go running off with Sari, eager to learn and experience all the city has to offer.

However, despite his flaws Bumblebee is one of the most loyal bots he’s met. He’d race straight into danger if one of his friends needed help, and would stick by them through thick and thin. He is also smarter than they give him credit for. He is creative in his combat, working around his physical disadvantages.

The more Optimus lists, the more connections he finds himself making to his Conjux. And it doesn’t necessarily stop with Elita, he saw a lot of himself in the scout the more he thought about it.

He has to suppress the excitement and anxiety that rose in his spark. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed. He needs more information.

He looks at the patrol schedule, he is grouped with Bumblebee tonight.

-----

‘See any thing out of the ordinary?’ Bulkhead’s voice rang over their comms as they searched the container yard.

Optimus doesn't see anyone, which was unsurprising since it was nearly midnight. He briefly wonders if it’s unethical to arrange the posts so he could talk to Bee alone, but decides it’s better to not think too hard about it. “Nothing so far, but we’ll scan around just in case, before calling it a night. We’ll see you guys back at base.” As the comms fall silent, Optimus looks at Bumblebee and mentally prepares himself.“So… Iacon, right?”

“Huh?” Bee glances back at him with an arched brow ridge.

“The other day you said you grew up there… what was that like?” Very smooth Prime.

“Nothing special.” He shrugs as he boredly looks over the cargo containers. Scrap. He’s losing him! Maybe he should be more direct?

“Must have been interesting growing up in an orphanage.” Optimus internally cringes. That’s too direct.

“Not really, you get up, refuel, have a few classes, boring chores and then go do whatever until curfew. The days tend to blend together. Got out of there as soon as I could.”

“Did you ever think about your parents? You mentioned they were probably Autobots.”

“I mean, yeah, most of us came from Autobots, but who knows?”Bumblebee gives another shrug, kicking around a rock. “I never looked into them though. Even if they were alive, I doubt they want anything to do with me.”

Optimus winces. “W-well, maybe they do- did, but they couldn’t come back. Life has its way of getting in the way of certain things. So, who knows, maybe they’re still out there looking for you. You might even run into them someday, huh?”

“Eh I doubt it…” He looks away for a moment, mulling over his next words. “To be honest, Bossbot… I don’t know if I’d want to meet them.”

Optimus felt his spark drop. “Why’s that?”

Bumblebee pauses again. “ Well, they were supposed to be there for me, and they left without giving me a chance… And I know how it makes me look, but it’d be best if they just stayed wherever they are… I don’t really know how I’d deal with that.”

Dread fills Opitmus’ spark, Ok, this isn’t exactly going as planned. Maybe he can regroup his thoughts, come up with something else or even put this all behind him and forget this ever happened. Primus, what was he even thinking with all this?

Bee turns back to him with a curious look.“Why were you asking about this anyway?”

Scrap.

“Oh, you know, a good leader always makes time to know his commerads!” He lets out a nervous chuckle and then transforms into his alt mode. “ Anyhow, we should get going, it’s pretty late after all.”

Optimus can’t help but see Elita in the way Bee’s brow ridge creases in concern. Bee looks like he wants to question him further, instead he silently transforms as well. A tense air hangs over them as they drive home in silence. When they get back, Bee yawns as he wishes the Prime a good night and retires to his room.

The base was quiet, Optimus can only assume that Prowl and Bulkhead had already gone to bed. Optimus can see the light in the medbay was on, indicating that Ratchet was awake.

A part of his processor wants him to just go to bed and put all this behind him, but he needs answers. So, he takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. “It’s unlocked.”

Ratchet turns in his chair as the door opens, surprised to see Optimus. The medbot doesn’t notice any injuries on the prime, but can feel the stress in his EM field coming off in waves. “Need something, Prime? It’s pretty late.”

“I need a favor. Completely off the books.”

Ratchet raises a brow ridge, Optimus was one of the most straight laced mechs he knew. Seemed like the kind of kid that corrected his teachers’ grammar and spent more time with his faceplate in datapads instead of with actual friends. So this was unusual and slightly suspicious.“What kind of favor?”

“You have all our data on file, right? I need you to compare mine to bumblebee’s.”

A confused look crossed Ratchet’s face. “Why?”

Optimus sighs, it was going to have to come out at some point. “You remember the other day when Bumblebee told everyone about his parents?” The old mech nods. “Well… the truth is that I had a sparkling a long time ago… I lost my Conjux and after I got demoted… I decided that the best thing to do is give my child away to the same orphanage he mentioned….”

Ratchet’s optics widen. “So… you think that the kid is… your’s?”

“I-I don’t know anything for sure. The orphanage and the age are the same… and the more I look at him, the more I see her…” Optimus takes a deep breath. “ I just need to know for sure…”

The two share a tense silence, Ratchet looks like he wants to unload the scolding of a lifetime. Instead, he sighs and turns to the computer, pulling up both files and setting the program up. All that was left now was to wait.

“... What are you gonna do if it comes out negative?” Ratchet gives him a wary look.

“...then this conversation never happened. Life resumes and everything stays the same…”

“And if it’s positive?”

Optimus doesn’t respond… He doesn't know what would or even could happen after that… He may have been too focused on finding the truth, he hasn’t considered the aftermath.

The computer beeps, and as Ratchet reads the results he lets out a small gasp. After rereading the results a few times, his optics return to the prime, only giving a small nod.

Optimus feels the cold dread wash through his system, knees feeling weak. Ratchet gently, but quickly pulls him to the medical berth before the Prime can collapse.

“...Are you gonna tell the kid?”

“I…I don’t know yet…”

The older mech gives his arm a gentle pat. “Well… it’s too late in the night to be doing anything… you should go get some recharge.” Optimus nods, standing and making his way to the door. “And Prime? If you need anything, you can come talk to me.”

“... Thanks, Ratchet.”

The Prime makes his way to his berth room, collapsing on his berth. His processor is running a million light years a click. Grief over what he’s lost. Anger and shame over what he gave up. And the one thing that he dreads most, that strikes deep seeded fear in his spark: hope. The tiny spark of hope that he could have what was left of his family back, that he could make up for his mistakes.

The thought that his sparkling is just a few doors down occurs to him. It would be so easy to walk over and tell him everything, hold him in his arms and never let him go again. To protect him in the ways he should have from the start.

But he’s been hurt so many times over that feeling. Hope could lead to more mistakes, more ways to mess up. Not only for himself, but for Bumblebee and the rest of his team.

Optimus is almost startled by the sounds of his teammates’ voices in the hallway. It is day time already, and he is more exhausted than he has ever been.

What is he going to do?

#transformers animated #transformers animated fanfiction #Optimus is Bumblebee's dad au #foxespen writes #cross posted on ao3 #tfa bumblebee #tfa optimus prime

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