#so i will never feel like this crushing grief is a fair thing for me to have

[jxsterr]

i just might not be in the right circles but i don’t think we realise just how fucked up puppet zelda was for link to have to encounter. like the one thing that stuck out to me SPECIFICALLY was the crisis at hyrule castle questline that has link hopelessly run around after something that looks like zelda and sounds enough like her but you know there’s something deeply wrong. it was enough to disturb me when i played through it, just how close her voice was to being correct but being too solemn, being just a little too wispy, too repetitive. there’s so many things about the way she speaks that’s only a little bit off, something that a man like link, blinded and delusional by grief, would miss. he’d know deep down in his gut something is wrong, it sounds so much like her but nothing like her at the same time. every time she beckons for him his chest tightens and he feels sick and he doesn’t know why, but he does deep down. he knows this isn’t her, can’t be her, or that if it is something is deeply wrong and both outcomes are less than desirable. it’s so fucked up because realistically he isn’t going to know if he’s ever going to see her again. for all he knows she could remain wandering the putrid soils of the depths for the rest of time, but here her corpse is, being paraded around as if she truly was zelda when she’s nothing but an imposter in the skin of his lover.

so he runs and runs and fights tooth and nail for her and continuously gets close enough to just about touch her but then she disappears and almost taunts him, tells him she’s waiting and he’s growing frustrated because goddess why won’t you just stay put and let me come to you?? i’m coming, i’m trying but you keep running from me. please stop running from me. his mind is begging, pleading for her, screaming i need you i need you like a lost child because he is without her. he’s lost and a shell of the man he used to be, she is his other half and without her he’s downright nonfunctional. and despite the heartbreak of her constantly disappearing he still keeps trying, keeps following her and grows more and more desperate because he’s so close and now they’re in the sanctum and she’s stopped and maybe this is his chance so he takes a step forward and she’s doing it again. she’s taunting him, dancing around him while all he can do is turn around aimlessly in an attempt to follow her. but even then he doesn’t stop for a moment to think if this is zelda, what she’s doing is cruel because he’s far too hung up on the possibility of her being with him again he doesn’t even stop to get upset at her, doesn’t question why she’s torturing him and keeps his focus on getting to her. it’s things like this that show you why zelda has so much trust that he will be able to defeat ganondorf because he’s never stopped chasing after her and saving the world for her and he never will. she could fall and he would catch her, she could die and he would save her, she could be a husk of who she once was and he would still love her. it’s undying loyalty, unwavering love and determination to make sure she’s okay because to him, zelda is everything.

but then she stops and gets so close he could walk over there and hold her again but it’s a lie. it all was. it’s nothing short of desvastating because even though he knew something was awry it still hurts to be proven right. to have scars so painfully ripped open again knowing that he’s back to square one. the emotional turmoil that that must have put him through had to have been insane, if not soul crushing. he’d be inconsolable, sobbing and cursing the very ground ganondorf stood upon to the point where the sages would have to escort him out of the sanctum only for him to fight them because they’re the only people he can take anything out on right now. but it’s not fair because it’s not their fault, and the way that riju hushes him and does her best to speak soothingly while sidon rubs his back makes him feel all the more guilty. so they all stay there, tulin and yunobo on high alert while link is sat on the ground, knees to his chest and weeping because he was so close. he cries and cries until his throat gives out and he’s dehydrated, until sidon has to scoop him up and take him back to lookout landing and he can’t even bear to tell purah what happened but she already knows. nothing breaks through that tough exterior but the dangled hope of zelda’s return being ripped from him. none of the sages want to leave him in this state, so they camp out in lookout landing. tulin does his best to chatter on about all the cool things he’s been doing to stop link from falling completely numb and shutting everything off and it does kind of work, link cracks the slightest of smiles when tulin tells him how he took out an entire monster hideout by himself. he’s lost his world but maybe he can figure out how to keep fighting for her with friends by his side. he’ll just have to see.

#legend of zelda #loz link #loz zelda #zelda and link #zelda x link #zelink #link #princess zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda tears of the kingdom #totk link #totk zelink #zelda totk #totk #totk spoilers #loz totk #puppet zelda #ganondorf #totk ganondorf #the legend of zelda

[k-odyssey]

Wedding Impossible | ep 7-8

It's been a while since I've watched a drama where a kiss makes me physically feel something. This one definitely did. And it had everything to do with the build-up.

You have Ji Han, who's been going through all five stages of grief re:his unwanted but very real feelings for his future sister-in-law. Invoking god and buddha. Folding paper cranes. Anything to stop feeling like a shitty brother.

And then the tables turn. He's told about Do Han's secret. Suddenly his hyung is in the wrong. Not because he's into boys but because it looks like he's using Ah Jeong. Everything is fair game now, as long as he can protect her.

Ah Jeong has also been busy crushing her feelings, after Ji Han's denial. She showed her vulnerable side, half-admitting that she liked him, and he shot her down.

She's a good actress but there's a difference between playing a role on screen/on stage, and turning your life into a web of lies. She's miserable, especially looking at her parents.

So we have repressed feelings on both sides. And the kind of exhaustion that comes from telling lies all day to keep up appearances. They even admitted that to each other on the set.

Ji Han finally decides to be honest, with himself and with Ah Jeong. About his own feelings anyway. Even if he has an ulterior motive for telling her then, he's finally saying something true. And she is broken and mad. Because she's been working so hard at keeping up the lie. She made a promise too.

But once the truth of his feelings is out, she can hardly pretend they aren't mutual and kisses him. And honestly, some of the best fictional kisses come after a big conflict. It has meaning. They're bridging that gap. They're embracing this love, in spite of it all.

Other things I enjoyed ep 8:

the choice of having no soundtrack during the important scenes (the brothers' fight, the confession). honestly a badly-timed song can easily ruin a build-up.

they both seem a little startled at the reciprocation. like "oh so you do like me."

Ah Jeong's interlude on set where she remembers who she is for a while. How Ji Han is a genuine fan of hers.

What Ji Han told the ex.

Ji Han kept calling Do Han selfish but I hope he takes some of that back later. I know it was mostly cuz he thinks Ah Jeong is being used. But he's also hurt at the lack of trust and I mean, it's hardly easy to come out in a conservative society. There was no guarantee that Ji Han would be accepting. Though it's disconcerting that he never tries to gage Ji Han's feelings. Could be as easy as watching a movie with secondary gay characters in it? To see if he reacts? Idk.

I'm conflicted. We'll see how that goes.

It's kind of funny to think how bad Ji Han and Ah Jeong will look from the outside. Though I'm sure she'd take the worst of the remarks. But considering she's only leaving a fake relationship for a real one, and he's only admitting to liking her cuz he knows his brother's gay, the gossip will be BAD. And there's really no easy way to fix that. Only live with it or Do Han comes out publicly.

Ji Han will be hurt when he realizes what was really happening tho (the contract). Not looking forward to this conversation.

Hope their little trip to escape reality next week won't mess up with the pacing. Should be fun to watch tho!

Edit: just fixed the episode numbers, oops.

#wedding impossible #kdrama thoughts

[leomeoi]

Happier

The title is from the song "Happier" by Marshmello Bastille. The lyrics "I want you to be happier. Know that means I'll have to leave." spoke to me. Please read the wonderful @tapakah0's comic and watch the amazing animatic they did that this work is inspired from. (Please forgive any out of characterness or grammar mistakes, I had no Beta Reader and wrote this in one sitting.) Thank you so much to Tapakah for drawing this amazing comic and answering my questions, as well as allowing me to write a fic for their work.

Oh, obligatory warning. This is angst. There is major character death, violence, and sadness. It ends unhappy (for now.) Proceed with caution and make informed decisions!

Click here for a link to the Archive Of Our Own version!

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Today's a big day.

Arguably, every day that they go out to fight the Krang that have infiltrated every nook, cranny, and crevice of their lives all those years ago is a big day. Raphael can't help but feel the bone-crushing load of responsibility that weighs down on his shoulders as he watches the hubbub of activity from the head. As he scans the faces of each person—human and mutant alike—with his one good eye, Raph feels as if his shell might just crack. He's not naive. There's nothing normal about this. He knows that they won't be able to save everyone, there'll be casualties. Their days are numbered, and the world just isn't fair in that way. The Krang aren't merciful. It could be anyone that they lose, there's no off-limits, and there's no way of predicting what shade of grief they'll experience today. As more and more days go by, Raphael can't shake the feeling that every victory they have is just a pyrrhic one. Even still, they fight. Everyone currently in the shelter of this hangar does. They all hope for a better future, a chance to reclaim all that they lost and there's not a single person who isn't willing to sacrifice it all. There's nothing more important than to ensure the success of this battle they're about to fight in the world war they've been waging against the invading advanced alien species.

He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about all the people that they've lost. It sends ripples of agony tearing through his chest, a physical ache that he can feel permeate even his plastron. It's a horrid fact that death is actually the most merciful thing the Krang can gift them with. They've lost countless others to infection, the result of that blasted plague yielding pink, fleshy atrocities, the host twisted and manipulated into a mere shell of their former self. They cannot be qualified as a person by then, bestial creatures hellbent on destruction and controlled by the very violators that infected them to begin with. It's a fate worse than death, the loss of will and self; they move only to the will impressed upon them. Raph's arms cross even tighter across his broad chest, his teeth grinding. The cold metal of his right arm reminds him that he's gotten off lucky. His fingers dig into his elbows as he stands, a grim and foreboding figure against the thoughts that plague his mind. He knows that he's gotten lost under the pressure of his thoughts when he stirs only at a warm touch against his forearm.

"Raph? You okay, big man?"

The sound of Leo's voice snaps him out of it further. His tone is bright, but Raph can hear the undertow of concern. Raph tears his gaze away from the milling crowd and looks down, meeting his brother's gaze. Even though it's been years, Raphael still can't help the flare of pride every time he sees Leo and how much he's changed over the years. It seems like yesterday that Raphael had to scold, nag, and practically plead with his younger sibling to get him to take things seriously. He knows that being the leader was a pressure that Leonardo never wanted, but once he's received it, he'd learned the gravity of the role. Sometimes, Raph thinks Leonardo has outgrown him, just the way that Raphael thought he would. A lesser turtle would have broken under the pressure, but Leonardo is as strong as he is stubborn. He stands against the test of time and loss, brave and unrelenting. He now leads with a certainty that has saved them on numerous occasions, and Raphael truly couldn't be prouder of how much he's grown into the role given to him.

Leonardo must see the way Raph's eyes soften because the sharp grin on his face loses its charming edge, too. Raph's chest feels tight as if his heart would burst out from the confines of his plastron. It's an entirely different reason than just a few seconds before when the grim reality was moments from overwhelming him.

He really is so proud.

"Yeah, Raph's okay. Just thinking." Raphael flashes his snaggletooth in a wide smile, and Leo mirrors it.

Normally, the conversation would end there. Raph wasn't the best at expressing his feelings, and Leonardo was even less so. He doesn't have the same connection to Leo that Donatello seems to have—they are self-proclaimed twins after all. They communicate almost solely on looks and gestures as if that's enough to convey exactly what it is they want to say. They leave nearly everything unsaid, but that's simply not something Raph can do. It's easy to communicate with Mikey; he's the best of them all. Still, there's so much that he wants to say to Leo, but it's almost time to leave. Raph can tell by the way things are quieting, the chaos of getting prepared sinking into the hum of calm and determined poise. Even with it all, Raphael is gripped with the unshakable feeling that he simply needs to get out. He doesn't know what it is, but it's an undeniable urge.

Leonardo's about to turn away. Despite the eternity that Raph feels like he just went through in his struggle to find the right words, mere seconds have passed. Raph decides that he doesn't need pretty words like Donnie, or the innate ability Mikey has to say exactly what a turtle needs to hear. Leo will understand. He knows Raph. He knows that they're connected and understand each other in a way that only those who have and are responsible for the lives of many can.

"Leo," he starts, and Raph almost winces at how serious he sounds. Leo blinks at the sudden change in tone, but he doesn't falter. His easy grin changes almost immediately, and the fact he no longer tries to deflect serious conversation with humor when it comes to Raphael brings yet another wave of pride. Leo stands before him, waiting. He's listening.

Raphael nods to himself, lifting a hand to place on Leonardo's shoulder. He squeezes and shakes Leo lightly, a reassuring gesture. His snaggletooth makes even more of an appearance as he smiles wide. "Raph is so proud. You've kicked ass and grown. You don't need lil ol' me anymore. I could not be more proud."

Surprise flits through Leo's eyes before it's replaced by something else. His gaze is piercing, eyes dark and almost unreadable. Almost. In another time, Raph wouldn't have ever thought that he'd know Leo so well. The feeling is potent, and Raph can feel it, too. It charges him with strength, and a new lightness finds his spirit. The iron trust that Leo has in him shines in his eyes, and Raphael had almost felt too small to withstand the weight of it once. Now, it gives Raph the strength he needs to continue on.

It seems to have been the right time to say what he was thinking.

Leonardo's shoulders square, and he seems to grow even taller before Raphael's very eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Raph," Leo chuckles. He slaps at Raph's arm lightly with a pat. "I'll always need my big brother." They both laugh at that, the serious mood broken up as their chortles sound in the room. With that, Leonardo turns away, moving his attention to something else that they need to be as prepared as they ever will be. Raph doesn't really concern himself with that anymore unless Leo needs him to. Bolstered by warmth, Raph knows that he needs to make his own rounds. He walks through the crowd, and people part way for him to accommodate his bulk. He stops and talks to a few, bumps elbows with April, and high-fives Cassandra. Somewhere along the line, Cass and Raph had grown closer. Undoubtedly, it was because of a certain young individual they spent any spare moment they had with.

Somewhere in the middle of that, Raph finds who he's looking for. "Donnie," he calls, and his brother whirls towards him. Donnie's battle shell remains engaged in what seems to be furious typing, his purple holographs buzzing with ninpo. A fond smile lights up Raph's face—even in the midst of preparing for a big battle, Donatello is always moving. His mind is always working, and Raphael wonders if it's because it's so loud that Donnie rarely ever sleeps.

"Raph," Donnie greets, the lenses of his red and blue goggles whirring as they adjust to parse Raph. Then, Donnie groans. "What did Nardo break now? I swear, I told him I'm gonna kick his shell if he breaks one more damn thing, so he decides to send you to break the news? I'm gonna find him-" He starts to grouse, and Raphael is sent into a frenzy trying to placate him.

"No, no! Leo didn't break nothin'. Just... Raph just wanted to talk to you. Before everything." Raphael shrugs, his hands outstretched and spread to show his surrender. Donatello squints and it's obvious that he's suspicious. His drawn-on eyebrows arch, and Raphael can't help but laugh again. There is no doubt that Donatello is the most expressive one of them all. His eyebrows only add to his charm, and over the years, he's grown into his skin even more. Raph thinks that Donatello is also the one to hide his emotions the most, choosing pragmatism and logic over the pursuit of emotions at all times. It's also why Raph thinks that Donatello's mask—the persona that he adopts—rivals Leo's.

In truth, Donatello is generous. He's a genius, a maniacal scientist, and Raph knows that his mind works in ways unmatched. He knows that it's because Donnie is Donnie that they've been able to maintain a semblance of a life. Raph knows that Donnie works himself to the bone for them, and fixes every problem that crops up that others don't even know where to begin. The thing with Donnie is that he's so, so generous, with a heart that's about as soft as his shell. Raph knows that he doesn't want anyone to know. Donnie gives them his all every day, every minute, and every second. It's enough for Raph to worry that one day, Donnie will give, give, and give until there's nothing left. Raphael has always silenced that voice, knowing that it comes from a selfish part of Raph that wants his brothers cared for, apocalypse be damned. Now, though. Raph thinks he can convey what he wants to say to Donnie at least once in a way that he can't be misunderstood.

Taking Donnie's suspicious look in stride, Raphael reaches up to rap his knuckles against his metal prosthetic. It makes a sharp sound each time he does, and Raph grins in spite of it all. "I know I've said this already, but Dontron... Thanks again. I know that this-" Raph gestures to all around him, and then again to his arm, "-couldn't have happened without you." Donnie seems to have been caught off guard by the sincere way Raphael is saying what he wants to say. Still, he recovers fast.

"Why, of course. I'm glad you realize that you need my brilliant mind and recognize that this is all in courtesy of the great Donatello, a.k.a. moi." Donatello's eyes are half-moons, his goggles retreating to the top of his head. His grin is smug, but Raph can see the genuine curls of delight that cause the corners of the said grin to twitch into an almost smile. Donatello's arms outstretch to gesture to the entire facility, and the simple movement makes him look bigger than life. It's grandiose, enthusiastic, and just as bombastic as Raph would have expected Donnie to respond with. Raphael doesn't bother stopping the laugh that escapes him, and his deep laughter seems to infect Donnie, too. He laughs with Raph, a small rumble mixed with the beginnings of a chirp. After the laughter dies down, Donnie gives Raph another grin. "Okay, now that you have me sufficiently buttered up, what did you break?" Donnie asks, his voice teasing. Raphael recognizes it for the jest that it is, and he snorts again.

"I keep tellin' you, nothing's broke!" Raphael's hands lift and they settle on Donatello's shoulders. He can't be too serious. Donnie will be too busy trying to make light of the words leaving Raph's mouth in his mind to truly understand what he's trying to say. Raph smiles. "Just tryna say thank you, Dontron. You're right, we need your brilliant mind, but that's not all we need," he gently reminds the younger turtle. "You're our Donnie, too. Our brother. Raph just wants to make sure that you take care of yourself, too. Less coffee, more sleep." He shrugs, his voice light. For a moment or two, Donnie says nothing. His eyes are wide, fixated on Raph's. It's enough to make Raph nervous and wonder if he's gone too far, but his fears are dispelled when Donnie's shoulders slump slightly under his hands.

"When did you turn all Dr. Feelings? Isn't that Michelangelo's job?" Donnie jokes and makes a face, but his voice shakes just enough to convey that he understands what Raph is trying to say. Raphael chooses to act mock-offended, going along with the bit.

"Hey! Are you saying Raph can't say that he loves his brothers?" He huffs, and Donnie rolls his eyes. The heavier moment dispels and Donnie's attention is suddenly needed elsewhere, judging by the beeping that he can hear. Raph lets his hands fall from Donatello's shoulders.

"Duty calls. No rest for the wicked." Donnie sighs, somehow dramatic and sincere at the same time. His eyes are closed as he says this, but he peeks out at Raph. That's enough for Raph to spot the gentle glint in his brother's eye. "But..." he intones, combining the sound with another sigh. "I'll try." Raph grins.

"All I ask." He nods, and Donnie hums. He's reorienting himself, Raph has heard that noncommital hum too many times to not know. "I'll see you later, Dontron," Raphael says before he loses Donnie in a string of mutters, and Donnie gives him a wave as his goggles return to his face, already focusing on what had pulled him away.

Raphael keeps walking. He dodges children, people, and mutants. It's not easy with his build, and he sticks out like a sore thumb from size alone. Still, it's not enough to deter him from finding Mikey. Mikey's as easy to spot as it is to spot Raph in a crowd. His powerful ninpo rolls off him in waves, mysticality crackling under his fingertips. It surges through his entire body, and it's almost impossible to miss. He's often haloed in a golden light, something that's as warm as his spirit. Over the years, Mikey has only grown more powerful, but with his abilities, so does his wisdom. Mikey is no longer just the goofy turtle he'd been before; he is wise beyond his years, capable, and strong. He's the inspiration within the Resistance, the ever-burning beacon of hope. Raph has leaned on him for support more times than he can count, and Mikey has more than once single-handedly born the grief of hundreds after a bad battle. Many turn to him for guidance now.

Raph finds him in the exact position that he thought he would.

"Mikey," he says, trying to hold back laughter. At Raph's voice, Mikey looks up, expression bright.

"Raph! Hiya, bud. Apparently, my hair's getting too long!" He says, voice full of cheer and contentment. He's surrounded by an ethereal glow, and floating. His legs are crossed, and there is a gaggle of giggling children running around him. They dip below him from where he's floating, dodging each other while they play tag. The innocence of the view seems to heal all the old wounds and the scars littering Raph's heart momentarily. There's another taller child with her fingers in Mikey's hair, and upon closer inspection, she's braiding it. Mikey already has multiple little braids here and there in his hair, and it's a sight that makes Raph's caught laughter burst free.

"Really? Raph thinks it's fine." He tilts his head as he inspects Mikey, and he's sure his expression mirrors Mikey's. Raph edges closer before he sits down with a mighty groan, and maybe a bit of a heavier thud than he'd wanted. The children crow as the ground shakes a little when Raph sits down, and he's swarmed. They crawl all over his legs, chattering excitedly, and Raph sits and listens. He and Michelangelo both do. They bask in the simple joy that the children exude. They ask him all kinds of questions, and Raph answers the best he can. They tell him nonsensical stories, about everything Mikey has been telling them, stories of times before the Krang. It's a bittersweet experience, knowing that there's a chance that these children will never experience what they had. Still, the tenacity and hope these children hold to someday seeing all that they've been told of is infectious. It reminds him of something their dad has always told them.

Hope is a ninja's greatest weapon.

Eventually, the children go off to Mikey's gentle shooing, as if he knows that Raphael has something important to say. The bond they share is close to the silent bond that Leonardo and Donatello share. In the past, Raphael and Michelangelo had clashed on more than one occasion. Raph knows he could be overprotective. He had been, back then, and Raph is old enough to admit that. Michelangelo had been the youngest, and even though he still is, Raphael trusts that he can protect himself now. That he can protect all of them. More than anything, Raph trusts Mikey with the Resistance. He trusts Mikey with their family. It's an all-encompassing trust that's hard to explain, even if he tries. After the Krang, after they'd been forced to grow, their relationship had changed forever. It was for the better. They'd grown closer, and the need for verbal communication has nearly faded from existence. Michelangelo can read Raph like a book. Even now, he waits for Raphael to collect his thoughts because he knows that his older brother has something to say. Raphael is grateful for it, just like all the times before.

After another few moments of silence, Raph wordlessly leans. He leans enough that their shoulders touch. He can feel the warmth spilling from Michelangelo, and it's comforting in ways that he can't describe. Mikey hums, but he doesn't say anything. His short braids are slowly coming loose, and they both stare from the sidelines as their people gather the rowdy children, scooping them up for hugs and kisses. Raph swallows. The heavy feeling from earlier returns. How many of these children would end up orphaned after this fight? He ignores a palpable thought about Casey Jr. that flits through his mind as fast as lightning. He doesn't want to think about that now. Raphael knows that Mikey can sense the dread that is approaching, the muted fear and grief that is already threatening his horizon. In front of Mikey, Raphael doesn't really find the need to appear as strong as he feels he needs to be around everyone else. He knows Mikey understands.

"Mikey," he starts, his voice suddenly hoarse around the lump in his throat. Michelangelo doesn't respond, just nudges his shoulder into Raph's harder. Raph takes a deep breath. He needs to say what he actually has on his mind, or he might burst. He's mentioned it to Donatello before, but Donnie hadn't let him finish. He'd dismissed the notion, he'd been angry with Raph for thinking such things. Raph hadn't broached the subject again. Now, he thinks it's a good time to. "If Raph doesn't make it back, please take care of our family." He smiles, feeling a hot pressure starting to build behind his eye. He knows that it's tears. Michelangelo still doesn't say anything. Raph presses on. "If- Donnie said somethin’ before about the mission goin' wrong and said that it's likely going to be Leo who's out for the count. I dunno if Donnie's goin' to be right, but it's Donnie. He probably is." He laughs, trying to free some of the building pressure in his throat. He swallows, again. Harder this time.

"Don't let Leo blame himself. Or Donnie. An'... An' I don't want you blaming yourself either. Okay?" Raph finally turns his head to look at Mikey and finds that Mikey is staring at him. Michelangelo is looking at him with a pained expression on his face. He doesn't bother hiding it. He knows what Raph is talking about, and even if he doesn't interrupt, Raph knows that Mikey is struggling already with the thought of something going awry. "I know it's goin' to be hard. But... But you're the strongest of us all, Mikey. In here." Raph reaches over, placing a hand over his brother's plastron. "They're gonna need you. It's not fair, I know. But they are. Just... Just remember me for me, an' the good things. Keep goin'. Keep them goin'." Raph's smile is trembling, he knows. He sees Michelangelo struggle for a moment or two before he feels and sees Mikey let out a harsh, near-guttural breath. His eyes are glassy as if he's holding back tears. Then, Mikey nods.

"Okay," Mikey whispers. Raphael keeps the smile on his face and nods back. Then, Raphael pulls Mikey into a hug. He hugs him tight, and he can't help but notice just how small Mikey is compared to him. He feels even more sorrowful, knowing that Mikey is still the youngest but Raph is asking so much from him. He's come to realize and know that Mikey is incredibly powerful, and because of that, sometimes he forgets just how young Mikey still is. Raph tightens his grip. That seems to be enough for Michelangelo. He hugs back, and they stay that way for a few heartrending moments. Raphael eventually pulls back, and if he did so with a sniffle, no one is going to call him out on it.

Raph gives Mikey's shoulders one last squeeze before he releases his brother. He swivels his head back to their people, and Raph knows that they're ready. He finds his way back onto his feet and pushes through the crowd again, heading towards the front lines. He sees Leo. He's waiting for Raph. Raphael takes a deep breath to collect himself before he lets his focus overcome the dread that he'd experienced mere moments ago. He finds his rightful place next to Leo.

"You ready?" Leo's voice is quiet, a muted question. There's the slightest hint of uncertainty, and Raph knows more than anyone what Leo's feeling.

"Ready." Raphael agrees, and his response seems to bolster Leo. He grins. Raph returns it with a smirk, straightening as he turns to face the crowd. "We're moving out soon! Everyone get ready!" He rumbles, voice filling the hangar. There are a few cheers, and everyone scrambles to get last-minute preparations underway. Among them is Cass. He watches as she stoops to hug her son. Raph watches, his heart in his throat as Casey giggles in his mom's arms, his little head poking up past Cass' shoulder. He squeals when he's lifted up by his mom, and Raph feels like he shouldn't intrude on the moment. He turns away despite his aching heart. He's about to walk away when he hears Casey's unmistakable voice. It's not Casey's voice that stops him dead in his tracks. It's what he says.

"Pap?"

For what feels like an eternity, Raph's brain blanks. He stands still as his brothers all laugh, equal parts disbelief and amusement. All Raph can do is flounder. Flashes of Splinter enter his mind, memories of their father dancing before his very eyes. Suddenly, it all makes sense. It's like his world realigns. What his brothers say becomes mush, and he can't seem to process anything but the single word he'd heard. The tears that he's been holding back well up, and Raph turns around on his heels. He strides forward and then stoops down, making himself as small as possible with a waterlogged smile. "Casey!" Raph calls, and his voice cracks, arms reaching forward. His chest is impossibly tight again, but he doesn't care. This is all that matters.

Cassandra's expression melts from one of stark surprise to a quiet fondness, and she crouches to let Casey back onto the floor. Upon the sight of Raph's outstretched arms, Casey races over to him. There's no hesitation until he reaches Raph, and suddenly, Raphael doesn't know what to do with himself. He's become this small human's pap, and he loves little Case with all of his heart. His hands shake, and he can't seem to stop them. He hovers, more concerned than ever that he would somehow hurt Casey. It turns out that his uncertainty doesn't matter. Casey blinks at Raph owlishly, then turns towards the hand that isn't a prosthetic. Raph's heart clenches. Casey reaches out, settling his tiny hand in Raph's. It's barely big enough to circle around one of Raph's fingers halfway. Casey smiles, holding onto the hand even tighter. He hugs it with his whole body, and Raph can only stand so much. His throat burns and his tears make an appearance as he pulls the child—no, his son—close. He holds him against his face, eye closing. He's so small. Everything is clear now.

This war, this fight… It’s for their future. They fight for their right to hand down a world that is secure, safe, and bright. They fight for the right to live freely. They fight to ensure that their children will never have to face the same hardship that their guardians did. It's worth fighting for, down to the last drop of blood, and the last shred of breath.

Raphael doesn't want to, but he knows he has to. He pulls back, releasing Casey from his hug. Case giggles again in response, and his small hands reach for Raph's face. "Oh, Casey. Papa will be back very soon." He smiles through his tears, and Casey grows serious. Raphael can't help but be startled at the determination on Casey's young face, and he has to hold his breath as Case brushes away the tears from his face. Raph nudges his forehead against Casey's one last time, gentle and loving. He pushes his child towards the crowd that's accumulated to bid them luck and goodbye. Despite his young age, Casey seems to realize that it's time to say goodbye. He backs away, but he waves to Raphael the entire time.

With newfound strength and courage fortifying his soul, Raph can feel his ninpo practically crackling. He's going to bring down the Krang, no matter what. For his brothers. For the Resistance. For all those that he lost. For Casey. He lifts an arm to scrub at his face, getting rid of the remainder of his tears. When he talks again, his voice is strong and booms through the halls. "Let's move out!"

Raphael leads the entourage. His expression is set in stone, and his remaining eye burns with untamable fire.

--------------------------------------------

Somehow, Raph has always known that it would end this way. He's not one for grand maniacal plans like Donnie, not strategic like Leo, or even as mystically talented as Mikey. There is one thing that he knows how to do, something that he's better at than anybody else.

He knows it'll take everything he has.

But that's okay. It gives his brothers, Casey, April, and everyone in the Resistance a fighting chance. A shot at a better future.

He doesn't tell anyone that his mind is already made up. The chaos of the battle rages around them, but all sound is muffled to Raphael. There is an eerie calm descending on him. He can feel the dead weight of Leo in his arms. He glances around, and that's all he needs to conclude that they're in trouble. They're out of options. The sound of screams and cries of their people fighting—and losing—echo. It pierces through the shrouded veil that is surrounding Raphael. A newfound clarity settles, and the knowledge of what he's about to do makes him ache for all those he's leaving behind.

I'm sorry, Casey, he thinks, swallowing. Papa won't be making it home.

"Donnie. You were right," Raphael chuckles, the sound dry and wretched. He looks toward the holographic screen that has Donnie's face. "It is Leo that gets knocked out." At his words, Donatello's face twists. A flicker of understanding seems to bode before it disappears, a fierce look of denial taking over the lines of his face.

"Yes, well, I'm almost always right. 99.99% of the time," Donnie responds, his voice wrecked. It's a low sound, full of pain and a new kind of desperation.

Raphael lays Leonardo down, his ministrations endlessly careful and gentle. He forgets about his strength often because he's a tank; he's as destructive as he is obstinate. Even still, he is careful with his unconscious brother. Leo's prosthetic is destroyed. Raph glances at his own.

A Krang hound overwhelms Leo while he fights hundreds of others; it manages to sink its teeth into the metal of Leo's arm. Raph can do nothing but watch in horror as the hound shakes Leo like a ragdoll. The hound continues to slam the turtle around repeatedly with brutal strength as if it was determined to rip Leo's arm out of its socket as it had already done once before. In Raphael's hurry, he tackles the dog with his full body weight after he wrestles his way closer, sending Krang creatures sprawling from the sheer force he plows through them with. Leo slams into the ground, and the impact is hard enough to knock him out cold with a pained grunt. Raphael growls, the sound twisting into a bone-chilling snarl. His hands grasp the top of the Krang mutt's jaw in a crushing grip, the other latching onto the lower jaw. With a furious cry, Raph wrenches the dog's mouth open. Unnatural howls leave the creature's mouth as it struggles, its screams of pain growing more frequent. Raphael doen't stop there. Once the alien releases the wreckage that had once been Leo's prosthetic, Raphael gives a mighty heave accompanied by a roar of rage. How dare the Krang take Leo's arm again?

The gory sound of bones snapping and the wet, horrid sound of skin ripping fill the air until Raph releases the remains of what had been a Krang creature from his hands. He sucks in deep breaths of air, panting from the extra exertion of strength. He steps away from the bloody carnage, stumbling towards Leo. He presses his head to Leo's plastron, relief flooding in at the sound of a heartbeat. "Leo," he calls, throat hoarse. He shakes his brother, hoping to rouse him. "Leo!" There is no response. He's out cold, injured, and without an arm. Raphael has no way of getting him to safety.

His closed eye opens. Raphael shakes himself out of his reverie of recounting memories. He knows what he has to do. "Don, how long until the shuttles arrive?" He questions. He sounds calm, even to his own ears. He sees Donatello look away towards his wrist screen, and Raph knows what the answer is before Donnie even says it. Donnie's eyes are distant, his brain racing. It's going a mile a minute only to come to the same conclusion. Nothing. Donnie can't move, Mikey is overwhelmed and fighting to get people to safety, and Leo is unconscious. Raph is the last mutant standing.

"Donnie." Raph calls again. He still wants to hear the answer. His gaze is fixed on the holo screen, and Donnie looks back at him with fervent eyes.

"15 minutes." The answer is delivered in a voice that sounds small and defeated. Raphael nods. His nod is more to himself than anything. Everything comes at a price.

"Don. Remember what Raph said, okay?" That's all Raph has to say before a wretched cry sounds from Donnie.

"No! There's another way, we still have time! Raphael, don't fucking do this!" Donnie's panic, rage, and pain are imprinted clearly in his desperate plea. He knows what Raphael is about to do. Raphael only looks at him through the holo screen. He knows what he looks like. He looks grim, determined. Fierce. Donnie reads his intentions loud and clear and tries again anyway. Raph feels as if someone is twisting a katana in his heart when he sees the way Donatello's face crumples, the way his head slumps. He tips his head downwards. "Please, Raph. Please, don't do this. Please," Donnie begs, but there's nothing Raphael can give him as an answer. They have no choice. Donnie knows this. Raphael looks away from the screen. He looks down at Leonardo and the destroyed prosthetic. Wordlessly, Raphael smiles. It's soft, affectionate. Leo looks so young like this. Raph reaches over, and his large fingers find the spot he's looking for on his arm. His prosthetic detaches with a hiss. He presumes where he's going, he won't need this. He hears Donnie make a sound that sounds like a mournful, cut-off cry. Donatello is smart. He's already put together why Raph is doing this. There aren't many supplies to rebuild prosthetics anymore. Raph carefully places his metal arm over Leo. It positions over him as if it's cradling and holding the younger turtle.

"Donatello." The use of his full name forces Donnie to look up, and there are tears running down his face without reserve. Raphael grins, his infamous snaggletooth making an appearance. "Take care of yourself. Raph will always be with you. Don't blame yourself, or anyone else. I know you all, and I know you will keep fighting. Beat them for me. Then, when you win, like a boss-" Raph emphasizes, his voice trembling for just a moment, "-remember me. Tell everyone how much I love them." Donnie says nothing. He's looking away from Raphael now, and Raph understands.

Raphael stands up. The dust and wind generated by the battlefield whip the tail ends of his bandanna around. He takes a deep breath. His mind flashes to all the people he's met in his life. Behind his eyelids, all his memories play out. Mikey. Donnie. Leo. April. Splinter. Barry. Cassandra. The Resistance. Casey. His heart seems to swell. It's for them. A fierce inferno suddenly sparks to life, fueled by all his grief, love, and passion. He's doing this for them. He will protect them, even if it's the last thing he does.

When Raph opens his eye, it glows red. Surges of energy crawl over his body as electricity would, and his teeth grit. There is no more fear. He takes a step forward, and the very ground shakes from the force. Already, his ninpo has grown his size. Bigger, he thinks.

Another earth-shattering thud. Pain surges through him, his body warning him of its constraints. He ignores it. Bigger.

This time, the earth cracks open under his foot as he takes another step. The pain is excruciating. Raphael can see the red lines spidering through his flesh, the cracks he absorbs with his entire body. His form remains solid. With each movement, his body is falling apart. He knows that if he continues, his body will tear itself apart. He will break like glass, and he will die. The thought doesn't do anything for him, and it only emboldens him to go faster. "Bigger!" He roars, his voice carrying through the battlefield in a cry so searing and fierce, he gains the attention of the lead Krang.

Krang creatures scatter from under his feet. Those that don't, he crushes. He is far from caring. He moves his way forward, soul on fire. If he can protect his people, his family, Raph will gladly feed his soul as fodder to his ninpo. His eye is fixated on the lead Krang as he fast approaches. Even from this distance, he can see the way the disgusting pink flesh alien's arrogance melts away into pure, unadulterated fear. It feels good. Raph grins, and he knows that his form follows suit. By the time the Krang realizes his intentions, it's too late. The roar of rage, fear, and defeat that Raphael hears is music to his ears as he grasps the Technodrome. His sheer size dwarfs the once massive ship. It fits into his hands the way a ball would, and his sudden fury at the thought of all those he lost to this alien ship causes his fingers to grasp tighter. His fingertips dig into the ship, and the groaning creak it gives as he crushes it bit by bit is exhilarating.

Raphael lifts it above his head. His ninpo holds strong, but he can feel every molecule of his body breaking under the pressure. He looks up at the sky. He'd wanted to see the blue skies with everyone at the end. At least, this way, he could help them do that, even if it's without him. His eye closes. I'm so proud of you all. I'll see you again. For now, this is Raph out. Like a boss. With a heaving cry that threatens to cleave the sky open and rip the very fabric of time, Raph opens his one eye. Tears fall from it as he fixates it on the lead Krang, his savage smirk only growing wider. He swings his raised arms down, slamming the Technodrome ship down with all of his strength. He screams, channeling every fiber of his being into ensuring that the ship is completely, utterly destroyed. They will never endanger their people with this ship again.

There is a burst of light accompanied by an earthquake that topples buildings and splits the ground, dust clogging the sky in a dirty mist that is impossible to see through. With it, shards of red float and swirl through the air. Everyone who knows what it is also knows what it means.

Raphael is gone.

--------------------------------------------

There's nothing Mikey can do. He watches as his brother tears himself apart to fight against the Krang. He watches in horror as Raphael screams in equal parts fury and agony, destroying something that is a detrimental blow to the Krang. His hands shake, and his vision blurs, but he can't look away. A sob rips from his throat as he holds Leo, his eyes fixated on the crackling red figure in the distance. One hand cradles Leo while the other is clenched tightly on Raph's prosthetic arm. Somehow, Raphael knew. Somehow. Mikey doesn't know if Raphael is able to hear him, but he grasps the fingers of Raphael's prosthetic as if he is clutching onto his hand. "I'm here! Raph, I'm here! You're not alone, I'm here!" He screams like a wild animal; his tears and grief are unending. He screams as loud as he can, hoping, praying, willing that Raphael hears that he's not alone and that Michelangelo will keep his promise.

He looks until he is forced to close his eyes at the burst of light. There is no one but Mikey to catalog Raphael's final moments. He has to remember, to see everything.

When he opens his eyes. all he sees is a crumbling red figure. It deteriorates, shards floating in the air before it disintegrates. Almost like it never existed. As if Raphael never existed. Mikey stays where he is, too stunned and grief-stricken to even cry out anymore. He watches as Raphael's ninpo disappears. He feels reality slipping from his grasp. His mind can't help but shy away from the possibility that Raphael is truly gone. He denies such a reality, but even that comes to a stop. Something red flits down from the sky, and Mikey reaches up. His ninpo grasps the item, and when he brings it closer, Mikey feels his heart shatter. In his trembling hand is Raphael's bandanna. The only remnant of their brother's body. The only proof that he existed, other than their ashen memories. With shaky hands, Michelangelo brings it closer. He lays Leo down and looks around. Almost numbly, he takes Leo's abandoned odachi. He ties the strip of red around the handle, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against it. He's only like that for a moment before his eyes open again. The fire that burns within is an anger that burns brighter than magma in a volcano.

In another time, Mikey hadn't understood the word hate. The concept had eluded his grasp. Now... Now he knows what hate is, and more. His loathing now knows no bounds. He hates the Krang. He loathes them. The embers of his hate lodge in his throat as he snarls silently, eyes beginning to glow a fierce yellow. He burns with the force of the sun, his usual warm rays of light turning cruel. He will destroy them all. His orange bandanna falls from his face in ashes, and with it, his hair is released. He faces the enemy that has regrouped shakily from Raph's attack. The enemy that now has set their eyes upon their allies and the rest of them. Mikey knows that the shuttles have landed. He is the last line of defense against the enemy and his allies that need time to escape.

He's never been more glad for that fact. His power crackles, surrounding him like a violent whirlwind. The power surges through his body, and he can feel it chipping away at the years he has left in his body. His hair grows longer, blowing in the wind of his rage without his bandanna to hold it back. He floats, rising higher and higher into the sky as his power builds like a hurricane. He raises his arms, and Michelangelo holds onto his ninpo with a savage ferocity that almost outweighs the pain at the knowledge that Raph is now gone. His fury reaches new heights.

The coals that burn in his throat finally give, and the scream he lets out is like a banshee's. With it, he releases his ninpo. His power is as unforgiving and brutal as the sea, waves of light matching the caliber of a primordial force perhaps as old as time. It floods over the battlefield like an ocean, golden light rolling in with the strength of a tidal wave and the speed of a riptide. He screams again, but it is a wordless cry of unmatched wrath. Michelangelo will burn them. He will destroy every single one until there's nothing by ash and death. They will suffer the way that they have suffered. The blinding wave of light engulfs the approaching Krang, and with inhuman, blood-curdling shrieks, they burn in the fire of Michelangelo's hate.

Mikey lands down, his feet on the ground. He pants as he looks at the razed land before them. Suddenly, all his strength ebbs from him as he falls to his knees. He feels empty. With a sudden hiccuping sob, Michelangelo raises his hands to his face, burrowing into them as he cries uncontrollably. Raphael is still gone.

--------------------------------------------

Donatello numbly watches as his wrist pad notifies him that the shuttle is arriving in 10 minutes. He feels detached. Everything is hazy, layered in a white fog. He feels as if nothing matters. He stays where he is, his eyes distant. His thoughts are quiet, for once. There's just... Nothing. He stares blankly at the horizon. He hadn't been able to see Raph's sacrifice. He isn't sure if he should feel grateful for that or not, so he doesn't think about it at all. There are other Krang and people fighting, but Donatello can't seem to pull himself together. It's all just so... Distant. Like he's not with this reality anymore. The logical part of his brain wonders if the powerful surges of energy and the earth-shattering showdown that has occurred have somehow transported him into a different universe. He almost laughs at the thought. Why does he feel nothing?

The shuttles arrive. The shuttles arrive but Donatello doesn't move. He watches as others run to the shuttle. He can't help but feel a little resentful towards them, a dull flare in the dark abyss. Do they know what sacrifice just occurred to save their lives? Are they grateful? A distant part of him observes from its detachment the observation he makes is unfair. Donnie doesn't care. In the far distance, he sees April looking around. He can even see her face wet with tears as she searches. Some part of him knows that she's looking for him. She's looking for Leo, Mikey, Raph, or him. His distant thoughts suddenly screech to a stop. Raph. Raphael. She... She won't be able to search for him anymore. She won't find him. Suddenly, everything becomes too sharp. Too clear. The agony that rushes in almost makes him wish for the detached daze he had just been in.

It's at that time that he hears Mikey's scream. It emotes all that he's feeling, and it delivers a blow so gut-wrenching that whatever breath is left in Donnie's lungs is stolen away. Another blinding white light envelops the field, and this time, he knows that it's Michelangelo. This knowledge makes this new reality jarringly, horrifically real.

Raphael is dead.

Just as the numb daze is about to return, Donatello is made aware of the hiccupping sobs that undoubtedly belong to Mikey. All his doubts disappear, and he is confronted with the reality that they've gone from four brothers to three. It's here that Donnie realizes—he'd never gotten to say goodbye. He'd never been able to tell Raphael that he loves him, too. Something wet trails down his face. He's shocked for a moment before he realizes, once again, that it's his tears. They run hot, splashing down his cheeks and onto his collarbone. Then, it's like the floodgates open. His shoulders shake as he wails, face upturned towards the sky as he screams, shouts, and rages. He can't breathe, but Donatello doesn't care. He doesn't. Everything hurts. Raphael had died alone, protecting them.

Donatello's sobs join Mikey's as they howl at the sky like feral, wounded animals, their grief raw and insurmountable. It presses on both of their shoulders, through their plastrons, and into their chests; the weight is so heavy that Donatello wonders if he'll ever be able to stand up again.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rttmnt #rottmnt #tapakah0 #tapakah0 au #tapakah au #L.O.V.E #life of violence era #fanfic #ficlet #angst #rise donnie #rise leo #rise raph #rise mikey #future mikey #future raph #future donnie #future leo #pain #mourning #grief #unhappy ending #depictions of violence #major character death #agony #krang #life of violence fic #still pain #ow

[thrilling-oneway]

okay so Light Up the Fire ramble. specifically about Taiga. I get what he did was a total dick move but at the same time I don't think he ever really let himself properly process his grief over Nagi's death.

Think about it. Just after Nagi died he moved out of the country, away from where RADder had done everything. RADder was extremely important to both him and Nagi (and also Ken) and he completely left where they'd built their entire lives around when he lost Nagi. Not to mention that as far as An was told, he's been touring with his dead younger sister. That's gotta hurt in itself, but the fact that he just left seems to me like he just didn't want to face it at that point in time, aside from the fact it was a convenient cover up so An didn't find out.

Then when he came back. Literally one of the first things he does is offer to take Kohane under his wing. It later becomes apparent (Kick it up a notch) that Kohane's performing is very reminiscent of Nagi's and you start to wonder, is that why he chose Kohane to mentor? Did he see his sister in Kohane this entire time? Oh and one of the other first things he does upon returning to Shibuya is lie to An about Nagi being alive so you know. He's having a great time /s

And then he keeps pretending that his sister isn't gone for months. He's known she's been gone for years but he can't let An know. That's just, not good. It's not healthy for him or anyone really but you can definitely see how it affects him. He's gotta pretend his sister is fine while mentoring kids who are trying to surpass her final event, or his last proper memory of her that doesn't involve her being in a hospital bed on the brink of death.

The thing is, when you put it in perspective with the fact that he clearly never got over Nagi's death, you can understand why he doesn't want VBS to surpass RAD WEEKEND. RW was his sister's final event, everything they worked for culminated with that event, RADder was forced to disband and they went out with a bang to celebrate Nagi's life and evrything that they had achieved. The event meant a lot to him, to his sister, and he doesn't want a bunch of kids trying to trample over it. He's not even wrong that VBS will never be able to put on an event that feels the same, RW was special because it was a sendoff for Nagi, you can't just replicate that.

What he did was wrong, dropping the bomb on An and everyone else and then immediately crushing their dreams was cruel. But you can really understand through that that he isn't ready to let go. It's outright stated in the event even. One of Nagi's final wishes was that they would inspire and hand off their legacy to a new generation, and even back then when she said it, he didn't understand why she'd want to do that. This was their moment, this was what they'd worked for, and this was the end of the road for RADder, and they ended on an unreachable high. So why was Nagi so willing to hand it off? This was her legacy, this was what she was going to leave behind and she was going to let some random kids snatch it up and run with it?

It's obvious that Taiga never processed his grief properly. We don't know too much about his time overseas other than that he became pretty famous and successful in the music industry, but the fact that he left his home behind for years after such a tragic event just seems like he was avoiding it? And then when he goes home and actually has to face it, he faces it with vitriol and anger at a bunch of kids who literally looked up to RADder, they didn't know about the truth of RW, they didn't mean any harm. But he definitely sees that they are harming the true message and feeling behind RW and he doesn't want them to take his sister's legacy. Even though this was one of the only things Nagi wanted when she passed, a new generation, he's so fixated on the fact that RW was the end of his sister that he's. keeping it to himself essentially. It's selfish but in a grief-striken way.

So fair enough but jeez man don't make 6 teenagers have a breakdown because you never let yourself process your grief that's fucked up.

#project sekai #mine #rambles #how do i tag this? #kotaki taiga #does this make sense at all? it's midnight i don't think it does #i didn't proofread this i just sat down wrote for 30 minutes or so and hit post #side characters go brrrr

[aficionadoenthusiast]

I absolutely hate these kinds of posts so I thought I'd do it to see first hand how many people actually like it and care about other people's opinions on their ships so...

my arbitrary ratings of non canon pjoverse relationships and why I think they would never work (or would) (scroll down for canon)

perachel: 3/10 nothing but platonic vibes, their brief stint felt more like an experiment than genuine romantic feelings or attraction; they both deserved better

percico: 1/10 a reiteration of an earlier post: their relationship would get bogged down by unshared feelings and grief, plus nico's crush was just a crush, and percy never had feelings in the first place

perlypso: 0/10 their whole interaction was percy being half dead and calypso being manipulated, not to mention she cursed him

pereyna: 2/10 any het relationship with reyna feels icky to me, she just seems so queer coded (which makes sense cause she literally joined an ace club), and percy was so focused on annabeth when they first met it just doesn't seem fair to either of them

pipercy: 4/10 this is a FRIENDSHIP I wanna see them figuring out they're bi together so much platonic potential

jercy: 7/10 honestly if I had to put these two with anyone else, I would choose this ship solely for the tension in mark of athena and that an alternate ship name is person

percypollo: 0/10 icky, pedophilic, and honestly kinda homophobic. percy would never enter a relationship with a god anyway

percy/literally any god: 0/10 see percypollo

lukercy: -1/10 imo there is no way to write this in a way that's not abusive, predatory, and just bad in general. i will not take the "enemies to lovers" storyline for this one either because there are some things that just aren't redeemable, and i consider luke's actions irredeemable. plus both their histories with annabeth make this ship very, very icky

pipabeth: 9/10 favorite non canon pairing, I can totally see a threesome with Percy, these two have such a great dynamic, only minus a point because I love percabeth too much

lukabeth: 0/10 sexist, icky, just all around a red flag

jasabeth: 2/10 nothing but platonic vibes

reynabeth: 4/10 they would be so powerful together, but feelings and emotional skills would be their undoing

jeyna: 0/10 see pereyna

leyna: 2/10 sibling vibes and see pereyna

theyna: 8/10 see reynabeth, but also I would love to see their similarities come to a head when they actually have to confront their feelings

apollo/reyna: 0/10 this is a thing?? ew???? reyna has such a huge issue with authority and the gods in general, it would never work, and see pereyna and percypollo

pipeyna: 7/10 would be good, but I need more info, though I think it would bring piper's jealousies to a nice full circle, especially if it was used in a way that helps piper figure out her sexuality

liper: 3/10 sibling vibes, I do not like

jiper: 5/10 that's right y'all, this isn't canon anymore! cute while it lasted, but they were completely made up and forced together by hera. that does not make a good, trusting relationship where one party is missing crucial details and the other remembers things that didn't happen, honestly i would have much rather they just ended it in lost hero when they realized hera was manipulating them

thaluke: 3/10 so much complicated history, I see them as ross and rachel from friends only worse

valgrace: 6/10 platonic mostly, but I can see it turning into something; I think they could definitely be good for each other; would love to see some healing centered stuff for them

valdangelo: 0/10 they barely interact, and their personalities are not the cute "opposites attract" it is straight up "we are both intensely traumatized, but in different, incredibly clashing ways"

haleo: 4/10 I can see it, but with sammy, it's just too complicated

fraleo: 5/10 I like the tension, but ultimately their personalities would clash too much

frazeleo: 10/10 this might be the only non canon ship I really wish was canon. separate, they are boring and clash with each other so much, but I think having the three of them together would provide a buffer when necessary while also keeping things fun and interesting

jasico: 3/10 very much a sibling relationship, seems to me like they were just shoved together because they were there

tratie: 10/10 floors me that they aren't canon

sally/poseidon: 2/10 sure it would work but she is an independent woman who wants less a man and more someone to love her and be there for her that isn't her son

ruegard: 8/10 would 100% ship it if i didn't love beckengard so much, plus i love the patrochilles parallels here

canon ships in order from least favorite to favorite:

zeus/hera: -10/10 sucks ass, their relationship is built on mistrust and a forced marriage, hera is quite literally shackled while zeus does whatever the hell he feels like while hera takes her anger out on anyone but him

god's/any of their affairs: 0/10 there's a reason none of them lasted

piper/shel: 4/10 another reiteration: ig it could be something, but it was literally a few paragraphs, and we know piper is experimenting with her sexuality, so it could be anything, not just a permanent romantic ship

caleo: 4/10 calypso needs some time to figure herself out and not be chained to a person or place; maybe they can try again after they both have some more life experience

frazel: 6/10 cute, but they're still pretty young, even by pjo standards, and compared to the other canon ships they're kinda dull imo, but i do love the awkwardness

beckengard: 9/10 absolutely love it, wartime romance, tension, dying for each other, trying for elysium for each other, only minus a point because one of them was a spy

sally/paul: 9/10 i love it, i'm so glad sally finally found a decent man, only minus a point because...adults

gruniper: 9/10 very cute, would be 10/10 but the start of their relationship felt kinda wonky to me like rick just wanted to pair grover with someone

solangelo: 10/10 adorable, checks all my boxes - opposites attract, healing from trauma, one extrovert one introvert, there is absolutely no downside

percabeth: 11/10 the OGs, the ship i use as a standard for all of my other ships no matter the fandom, still my absolute favorite ship, there was not a single bad track, they are so good for each other

#old

[teddybeirin]

Hello

I am in a similar situation to yourself but with no opportunities to escape just now. I have siblings relying on me and emotionally abusive Stepmom. I am autistic, recently diagnosed and heavily mask. I had a small collection of dolls and plushes. I get comfort from them. I feel like I protect them even when noone protect me. But a few days ago she took them from me as punishment . I did not know she actually threw them out. She told me this morning deliberately after rubbish lorry came so it would hurt extra. It's sound so stupid but it's killing me inside to think they were scared and suffering wondering where I am and not saving them. That they might be still suffering. I don't know if the rubbish collection crushed and killed them. They were only quite small and some old. They were very timid and don't like loud noises. It just kill me knowing they are gone when they do small and helpless and I wasnt there. I made the mistake of telling my dad and he said I was crazy. I just don't know what to do. They made things bearable because I had a purpose to protect them. I know that sounds weird. I just don't know how to deal with the pain. Have you experienced this and how did you deal with it or did you manage to take your dolls/plushes with you. You don't have to answer and I am sorry for the long letter. I am happy at least one of us got out

Hello lovie, I'm so so so sorry that you are in a similar situation to how I was in. I hope you & your siblings will get the opportunity to get away soon.

It doesn't sound weird at all - I'm the same way. I see a lot of objects, especially stuffed animals & dolls, as having feelings. I had lots & lots of them, and they comforted me while I was living with my abusive family, and they were often taken from me as punishments too. I'm so sorry your dad wasn't caring or understanding of you, it isn't fair, it isn't right

I couldn't keep any of mine, because I couldn't carry them.. but I know in my heart they knew what was happening. It was so hard to let them go, and go without them, but stuffed animals are very clever and very kind. They never want their people to suffer or to stay in bad places for them - and when their loved ones aren't there, they go away into new selves, that is how I see it. Like the velveteen rabbit becoming a real bunny, away from the boy.. it isn't something we can see.

It makes it easier to deal with losing them because I know that they aren't having to witness my suffering anymore either. I think they probably could recognize your stepmom is no good, such that they would not blame you for her actions which you cannot stop. But truly it comes back to that they are good-natured and want what's best for us, and sometimes that means letting us go too.. they can always go into someplace else, but we as fleshy humans can only live one fragile life.

It is okay to feel the grief. It doesn't mean you are wrong or crazy or that you are in your own way. Loss is never easy, even when we have certainty they went away okay it's hard to bear it, all the more when we don't have that. If my answer doesn't make it feel any better it doesn't mean you are wrong either.

Right now I have 2 stuffed animals, one is a gift from a precious loved one, a small teddy, and the other is especially special because he is handmade just for me. They don't replace the ones I lost but they took up the torch that the stuffies I once had had passed on.

Thank you for reaching out, and for not giving up. Please keep going, I wish to lend some of my strength to you, and I know your stuffed animals and dolls would want to see you happy and free too. It won't be this way forever. It can be so difficult to see a way forwards when you are still stuck and hurting, but I promise it is there. I am wishing for your happiness & freedom with all my heart!! Please feel free to keep sending in letters as much as you want to.

[erynalasse]

Sometimes I just wanna see an AU where Fingon and Maedhros reunite in Beleriand without Thangorodrim in the middle of it all. 

The thing about the rescue is that it’s very heroic, very dramatic, and very conclusively proves that Fingon can put friendship and loyalty above whatever betrayed feelings he carries about Losgar. I’m sure there were conversations—lots of them, surely!—but at the same time, when your cousin braves Morgoth’s fortress itself to save you, the rest kind of follows from there. 

Just can’t get the idea out of my head, y’know? There’s nothing more tasty than someone expecting the most final of rejections and getting a hug instead.  

Picture Fingolfin and his sons sending a delegation to the Fëanorian camp after they cross the Ice. I don’t think anyone on either side knew what to expect. The Fingolfinians have no explanation for what happened to the ships, and the Fëanorians weren't even expecting the other force to show up. There’s tons of tension, probably a lot of saber-rattling on both sides, and Fingolfin is genuinely thrown by seeing Maedhros wearing the Noldóran’s crown when he spent days preparing to face his mad half-brother. 

I think at this point Maedhros was probably already planning to give the crown to Fingolfin. Rescue aside, all the other reasons why the abdication made sense in canon still apply. The entire house’s legitimacy for the kingship is in ashes just like the ships. But something that big comes out in a private discussion between Maedhros and Fingolfin, not in public, not during their first meeting. So the two rulers bow to each other and make all the right speeches of humble apology and gracious acceptance, and all the while Maedhros is very carefully not looking at Fingon. Somehow nobody dies. 

Maedhros knows his cousin can’t kill him because that would really set this fragile peace on fire. But almost anything else is fair. Fingon may never speak to him again, especially after his brother’s wife dying on the Ice. What good did standing aside at Losgar do for that?

Finally, finally, Maedhros gets a moment alone with Fingon in the middle of this chaos. Fingon probably comes to him, since Maedhros is probably assuming the worst until he’s proven otherwise. What can Maedhros say to him? I missed you deserves an acidic response. I tried to stop him is a pathetic excuse. I never meant this to happen can’t bring back the dead. I will make this right is already a lie, because there are no reparations for a betrayal this complete. 

In the end, Fingon speaks first. “I heard about Ambarto. I'm sorry, Maitimo.”

Maedhros nearly loses his composure altogether at the fresh grief. “I heard about Arakáno,” he returns. Fingon’s head bowed, and this bridge of shared grief for little brothers lost far too soon gives Maedhros something to cling to in the storm. 

“I am so, so sorry.” There. The only words he could give. 

Fingon’s face crumples in the way that could mean he wants to laugh or weep or start screaming. Sometimes it also heralds a very unwise decision, like— 

“Maglor told me you stood aside.”

Where is this going? Fingon has stepped closer, and Maedhros can’t breathe. “It stopped nothing, Findekáno, you know that—”

“—it matters to me—”

“—that just means I could have betrayed you more fully, Findekáno, what is there to appreciate—”

“You are so infuriating, Maitimo,” his cousin hisses, yanking him forward into—an embrace? “Stop taking your father’s blame on yourself.”

Maedhros stands there and trembles for a few minutes before squeezing Fingon back fiercely and burying his face in his gold-braided hair. He doesn’t mean to weep, but he can’t seem to help it either. The crushing relief leaves him breathless. He has spent so long holding together his brothers and his people through one loss after another that the joy blooming in his heart hurts almost as much as the grief. 

“We have so many things to talk about, Maitimo,” his cousin says, pulling back enough to wipe roughly at his own face. “But we are going to talk about them together,” he emphasizes, after taking in Maedhros’ renewed tension. 

For the first time since Valinor, Maedhros finds he can laugh joyfully, not bitterly. “Yes. Together.”

#my post #my writing #? #I suppose this qualifies #I have a bad habit of starting something in the style of a post and ending it in the style of a narrative rip #maedhros #fingon #russingon #if you want it to be #deliberately ambiguous

[marshmallowprotection]

Ray not wanting to see me in pain vs my autoimmune disease fusing my spine bones together, more like: unstoppable force vs immovable object

Real talk though he'd be devastated. Ray wants to protect you from all pain so badly, and then he learns your own body just... attacks itself like that would crush him. You make a joke about how much pain youre in only to see his face and go "NO WAIT ITS OKAY IM USED TO IT-"

For me, as someone who is disabled, there's comfort in knowing that Ray wants badly to make a better life for you in Magenta by working a lot and trying to improve your quality of life compared to what it was in the outside world. However, he wouldn't know the depth of what a chronic condition feels like until he sees you, your struggle, and how hard you have to adapt and fight just to exist in a world that doesn't stop to care about your needs.

The realization he has when he learns that fact brings me comfort.

Sometimes, we just want people to have that damned epiphany and realize that far too many of us have to crawl when others get to sprint and run ahead without trouble.

The validation from knowing that your loved one can look at you and say, "Please, don't say you're used to it. You shouldn't be used to it. It isn't fair that you have to work harder to do what someone else can... all while pretending you're not miserable and suffering. Please. Don't lie about your pain. I don't want you to be in pain but I don't want you to lie... I can't stand the idea that you may be hurting and I could do... something."

Sure, he might not be able to do something, but sometimes, it's the offer that means the world. Just, "Can I do anything? Anything? I can do whatever you want. I don't care how silly you think it is... I'll do that request in a heartbeat, prince/ss. If I can't say the pain away, I want to do what I can to ease your pain... if only a little... please...? I need to do something... something so you never have to fight so hard by your lonesome again... what can I do?"

Ray wants nothing for you but bliss and happiness. The fact that you're in pain and he can't take it away is the hardest realization he might ever have. He can't protect you from your body... that's the one thing that's out of anyone's control. He might break down, sob, and cry because why would someone as kind as you have to go through so much pain? It's not fair, he says. You know it's not fair, but these things happen and we can't control them.

It's not the end of the world to have a chronic illness. Some people might think it is, but it's not. Our lives matter just as much as anyone with an abled body, y'know? Ray would have to take some time to go through the motions and accept that he can't help you as much as he wants to... similar to the process of grief many go through if they had their condition appear later in life as opposed to the beginning.

Anon, I hope you know that Ray wants you to know you're worthwhile to him. He doesn't want you to suffer but if anything, he doesn't want you to be used to the pain. Don't laugh it off. If it hurts, it hurts. You're allowed to admit it hurts and you don't need to censor or suppress a single feeling for the sake of others. You might think telling him that it hurts would make it hard on him.

It doesn't.

Sure, he wants to wrap you in bubble wrap, but Ray is attentive and determined. Once he learns how to do something, he makes sure he is the best of the best. You'll always be taken care of when he's there for you.

#anon #ask #mod kait #mystic messenger #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #ray choi #choi ray #ray mystic messenger #ray mm #ray mysme #mm ray #mystic messenger ray #mysme ray #character analysis

[maggot-monger]

i was tagged by @leatafandom — thank you!! it was fun both to see your answers and to think about/look up mine <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

99. some day #100 will be posted but who knows when or what that will be lolol

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

395,538

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently none; i'm doing original stuff only lately. however i have things on ao3 written for marvel (specifically the asgardian faction), downton abbey, what we do in the shadows, and of course most recently (and also least recently...i've come full circle) supernatural

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

seize the crown (wwdits, e)

friendly favors (wwdits, e)

judges of character (downton abbey, gen)

"mr barrow has the flu" (downton abbey, t)

thomas barrow and the power of friendship (downton abbey, t)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yessss i love responding to comments!!! i appreciate them so much, and i love an opportunity to talk about my writing <3 i can understand why people might prefer not to, especially on a place like ao3 which is technically an archive, but i like the community feel of interacting with readers on there (and i love it when other authors reply to my comments so kind of a golden rule situation)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hm...technically the song remains the same (spn, t) has the least desirable endingbut imo passive (mcu, gen), which is entirely about grief and denial, is angstier despite "brother died" being a less dramatic problem than "stuck in eternal crushing hell isolation"

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

to me it's phantom fangs (wwdits, t), my little vampirism-as-trans-allegory project! it's a bit of a bummer at times but to me the ending is so happy <3

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

i haven't!

9. Do you write smut?

yee. although i'm never sure if i want to write smut lmao but it sure does happen a fair amount sometimes

10. Do you write crossovers?

it's not generally my thing, although i do enjoy heavy allusions. i do have at least one though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of (i have had art stolen though RIP)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! although i'm not sure the translation is up anymore; it was a number of years ago

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

no...i'm curious about this but i'm not sure how it would go? but anyway no, at least not yet

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

formally it's samifer because i got my fandom phd in this lol but who even knows in actuality tbh

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i'm soooo haunted by the last chapter of crimsonpeaknatural aka hollow's gate (spn, e). it is my longest fic on ao3 by far and is literally one chapter from done, i just can't bring myself to write the last ~7k. it is fully outlined. i know what happens in it. i just can't write it! why

i also started a michean fic over the summer that i really like but i doubt it'll ever be finished. at least i never posted any of that though :p

16. What’s your writing strengths?

imo characterization/perspective, atmosphere, and prose versatility. maybe pacing? i've gotten comments on that a few times but it's less of a self-observed strength

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

i don't know what plots are <3 also sometimes my prose wraps around to being a little too circular for its own good so that's both a strength and a weakness of mine lol.

tbh i'm also bad at killing my darlings, especially when it comes to scenes i'm obsessed with, unless i give myself a LONG time to edit. like, on the order of months

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'm not really a fan of this as a reader and i prefer not to do it as a writer, but also i'm not going to knock it on principle because i do understand the appeal, especially to people who are writing primarily for themselves and are comfortable in both/all the languages they're including. it can be fun sometimes to see the differences between the language the dialogue and the translation gives (if they provide one) if the language is one i'm also familiar with.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

harry potter. y'know...what can you do lol it is what it is. i wrote the kind of dramione angst you'd expect of a person like me who was 13yo at the time

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

ohhhh i don't know. i had SO much fun writing poker face (spn, e) and i think it succeeds at doing everything i wanted it to do. this isn't an objective answer but i am genuinely very happy with that one so it is my answer atm!

no-pressure tagging @artoodeeblue, @fandom-space-princess, @quietwingsinthesky, and anybody else who would like to do this!

#tag games

[terrovaniadorm]

Hellooooo

Coming out from the ceiling to ask about Indulgent trope with...* pulls out list* please:

47. Zelda/Rodrigue 

91.Anpu/Anatolia

54. Shura/Keres 

You can choose of course !

ANDHRA.. YOUR HUGE BRAIN RAAA crying as i type these

[Trigger warning for mentions of death (Zelda/Rodrigue) and homophobia (Shura/Keres)? Just in case]

[47. one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again]

Zelda loved Rodrigue, they truly did. Ever since their first year in Terrovania together they've been inseparable, even as Rodrigue got sick, they didn't leave his side. Even when he died, they cried by his side, only being pulled away by Elvina. Despite their grief Zelda lived on, they kept his gifts, his photos close to their chest even after years, even starting NRC for the 4th time, they'd keep it till the day they perished.

It was their 5th time in NRC, it's fun getting into different forms, they adjusted their robes for their horns, they wished they had a custom robe like the Valley prince! It wasn't fair. They watched the new students get sorted into their dorm, even they got sorted into Savanaclaw, how fun! It was a mostly uneventful ceremony, until they saw familiar, red locks pass by them towards the mirror. For the first time in their life, Zelda stood there, mouth hanging open as the man they once loved and grieved over was sorted into Pomefiore.

Soon as the ceremony was over they ran after him, not letting their lion dorm leaders yelling stop them. "Rodrigue!" the mysterious red haired man stopped in his tracks, turning to the demon, pulling his hood down to reveal it was indeed Rodrigue.

"Griselda?-"

He said before being tackled to the ground by them, grimacing when his back hit the ground "My god! How! How are you alive!? Where have you been!? I was-" Rodrigue cut off the tearful demon with a hand on their cheek. "It's a long story.."

Zelda smiled, wiping their tears, then kissing the palm of his hand, "You'll tell me what happened or I'll never forgive you!" seeing their playful personality return Rodrigue smiled, "Fine, i will"

After their small reunion, the demon dragged the redhead to their dorm, once again ignoring their furry dorm leaders protests.

[54. one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization]

"God damn it Cerise."

Their oldest sisters voice made Keres flinch, they looked down at their lap, sitting on the couch as Maggie walked back and forth in front of them. "All we wanted was for you to find a good boyfriend, not only you're interested in a woman, she's a fucking criminal" Keres wanted to say something but she cut them of "You'll cut contact with her." "But-" they quickly shut up when Maggie slammed her palm on the table "Don't talk back to me!"

"If i hear you still talk with her you can say bye bye to Night Raven."

...

It was hard, trying to ignore their feelings for Shura, sure Keres always knew their crushes would never happen buy it was still hard when they've been getting closer with Shura. It hurt, at least they could distract themselves when they weren't at school events together. They didn't expect her to visit them out of nowhere though, bringing a gift, a small Keychain "For your collection." she said, with a smile, they smiled back. "I appreciate it." they replied, they hoped their tone didn't come out pathetic as they thought it'd... They wished to be with her but it seemed impossible now.

"I...need to go now. See ya."

They quickly left, leaving Shura confused but content that they liked the gift, she smiled "Weird gal." she said, not noticing the others eyes filling with tears, Keres couldn't help but cry, looking the small gift in their hands.

They just wished things were different.

[91. our muses run away together]

Anpu couldn't believe Anatolia's story, in the sense that it was tragic, he pitted her and her siblings. So he took her hands in his, looked at her sunny eyes. "Then let's leave Wonderland." Anatolia blinked, mouth hanging open in shock, "But... My brothers." Anpu couldn't help when his ears fell back, "I know, you care about them but it's too late for Eleusis and Orpheus... I just want you to be safe. Please."

It was silent between them, she couldn't leave her brothers despite everything but she knew she couldn't save them especially by herself but she also know Anpu couldn't help with limitations in wonderland... Neither of them truly had a choice, the time was limited, she had to decide. "I... I know. I'll come with you." Anpu gave her a smile, a one filled with sorrow and pity, he knew she was struggling and trying to help in the best way he could.

"We don't need much, we can run away whenever you want."

She nodded "Let's leave now, because i change my mind and regret." The Jackal God took ahold of her hands gently brushing his thumbs on her palms, "I love you." "I love you too." They exchanged words softly.

This was going to do be a new page in her life, one she choose to be safe.

#Thanks for the ask!! #I hope you enjoy my goofy writing i tried #Also keres oldest sister reveal!! Not a fun one! #I like my ships a little bittersweet /j #Twst oc #Rodrigue De Nostredame #Shura Mori #Anatolia Ronsard #Answered

[llycaons]

ep49 (1/3): a shocking numbers of fans watched this scene where jgy cried a lot and fully swallowed his excuses. guys. guys.

oh wwx is annoyed as hell that jgy is dodging responsibility for everything he's done when he, wwx, never once denied his actions and bore the full weight of them and then some

more evidence for my 'jgy actively encourages lxc's crush even though he has no intention of ever reciprocating because it grants him power over him' hc!!!!!

oh jeex lxc looks like shit. I mean I guess he's had a rough couple of days. look at those eyes bags

lxc: I'm not your sworn brother anymore. jgy (realizing he's losing his grip on lxc): NOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭

okay to be fair I'm sure there is some genuine grief for losing the friendship and camaraderie of the one person who has always vouched for him, saved his life, supported him, etc. lxc was a wonderful friend and a powerful, steadfast ally. wasted on jgy!

you can practically see the forehead vein popping here. I don't think an lxc who fully understands jgy would ever love him. if xiyao is happening in some fic, either jgy is lying or someone's being mischaracterized. not that social factors didn't play a role in the things jgy did, but if you ignore his sadistic and vengeful nature, his willingness to murder innocent people, his unrepentant manipulation and deceptive nature, you're losing a lot of his character. for him to be someone who doesn't hurt others, he'd have to be someone guaranteed safety and respect and a position from birth. but that's so antithetical to his role in canon it wouldn't be the same person anyway

huh. why hasn't jgy tried to harras lwj more? I guess he got what he wanted and beyond lwj sealing himself, there's not much a reaction jgy can provoke

WELL. pretty clear choices here. jgy you could have packed up and fled the country before trying to kill a bunch of people and kidnapping children

lxc: why were you so cruel and murderous??? dude?? jgy: I HAD NO CHOICE BRO 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 you believe me right??? would it help if I did this 😭😭😭😭

compared to wwx's impassioned, rational, fair defenses of himself and the people he was trying to protect, this is so pathetic. wwx never denied what he did, never dodged responsibility. when he said he had no other choices, it was in defense of innocent people at risk of political persecution and mass murder, not in defense of killing people to maintain his own position, he apologized for the death of jxz and suffered his own death in retribution for even the best things he did

YOU COULD HAVE LEFT!!!! or idk, face up to the consequences of your actions

I am so so sorry to bring the marvel 'cinematic' universe into our beautiful liveblog today but this shot just screamed "Tony, you CHOSE to do that' to me

of course he ~nobly~ doesn't deny it ONCE IT'S ALREADY COME TO LIGHT. but he denied up until the breaking point because he's a slippery eel and it's impossible to get him to face any consequences for his actions!!! if I was lxc I would be exasperated to death too

NEAT FRAMING

ohhh this flashback is so skin-crawling. I really love how deathly pale the robes and jgy's face are. the red of the wedding robes and the decorations are so ominous and omnipresent, like something horrifying about to happen, like something inescapable. the music really adds to the eeriness of the scene

it always hurt so bad that qs was so excited for her wedding night. she was happy! she liked jgy a lot and always respected him and his mother! she was a good and kind and innocent person and she had no IDEA god I feel sick I hate him so much

jgy really never spared a single thought to qs's well-being. it was all about him, and his horror, and his choices, and his position, and the injustices enacted on him. self-centered to the very end. of course he didn't think he had a choice. he would never choose against his own self-interest no matter how many people he hurt. god, qin su should have lived. her suicide was such bullshit

oh my god SUCH bullshit. 'uwu but I worked so hard!' okay yeah I get it's a precarious political situation and the issue isn't even your fault but DUDE. you're placing your own power and ambition higher in importance than this woman's entire life. and you MUST have known you would have murdered any child you two had.

pretty sucky situation all around. shocking idea though. YOU COULD HAVE TOLD QIN SU

jgy truly goes through life as if it was a me-or-them battle for survival in every single situation. in his mind, whoever bore the burden here would be the one destroyed, and he never would choose his own destruction. and it does make sense based on his environment and upbringing. god, he's such a good villain. none of this at all excuses his actions ofc, but it's an extremely compelling and powerful motivator for a villain hell-bent on surviving, viewing every situation as battle to the death, and fully buying into being viewed as the victim of every scenario

another contrast to wwx! wwx hates being seen as someone who was hurt. he dislikes being viewed as weak or vulnerable in any way by his enemies (and often his allies), and the way he wins battle and arguments is though either his power or his own honesty. for someone who omits key information and lowkey manipulates many of his loved ones, his straightforward arguments are more often than not the complete truth

in case we needed a reminder of his active sadism at work. who gaf about his dad but those poor women were treated as murder weapons and then mass murdered themselves

oh I do not like this slap scene, and I'm glad lxc is horrified by it as well. the exposure of jgy's crimes has never retroactively justified the classism and oppression he fought against, nor does it grant permission to his social superiors to treat him like they're inherently better than him, such as with this slap

#cql re-rewatch #not to brag but this one is juicy

[septembersghost]

what happened 2 years ago and why did u want to die? :(

so to be fair, or approach this with full disclosure, i struggle with wanting to die on a regular basis because of ideation issues i've had fairly strongly since 2009, due to a combination of traumatic events and the severity of my chronic illness. that never really goes away, it's constantly kind of gathering in the corners of my mind like cobwebs. or it can feel like an escape hatch. sometimes that's worse than others, oftentimes it feels inevitable.

two years ago wasn't even necessarily a true frame of reference (i wanted and expected to die in 2019, for multiple reasons, one of which was losing my precious service dog who was my constant companion and fluffy soul mate, who i still miss every day, in a way that was profoundly upsetting and i've never even fully written into words because i can't. i quite literally only stayed alive because lover was coming out that august, it's not exaggeration when i say taylor has repeatedly saved my life. i NEVER planned to come back online at that point). but something happened specifically two years ago that, because i was in such a fragile state already, my mind/body processed it as a form of trauma and a crushing grief on top of real life grief that i could barely even breathe around, and it set off just...every possible harmful thing that could be set off for me. i didn't sleep, i barely ate for a while. i don't even know how to explain this to someone now without being vague and skirting around the wounded scars of it. but basically it felt like having something essential that had been a source of courage and light to me from the very onset of my illness (which was seventeen years ago now) violently ripped apart, and being told that there's never any hope and that i probably don't deserve to be alive anyway. it set off my panic attacks and nightmares and countless tears (i genuinely feel like i cried for a year, looking back at it) in a way that is perhaps illogical, but was very real, and i had to claw out from under it. add to that the fact that my mom and i were imminently losing our home (which wasn't resolved until last month, and things are still continually frightening and precarious for us in varying ways), and other things i can't share... it all felt completely unendurable.

i still live on borrowed time every day, i know that, but getting through all the rest of that seemed impossible for a while and it's only by the grace and generosity of friends here that i made it through at all, so it always feels like a quiet miracle to still get the chance to be here with you all for a little while longer. 💛

#this not even touching on the bullying/harassment i dealt with last year too lmao :/// luckily stepping back from that fandom ended that #i'm sorry this answer is so unclear 😭 there are things i would say or lay out more obviously but i'm trying not to #mostly for self-protective reasons #anonymous #<333 #letterbox #suicidal ideation tw #eating disorder tw #kinda #the little girl who was always tired #chronic illness

[ink-system]

the poem of patroclus

im so sorry this isnt a mcyt fic i just kinda lost my hyperfixation for it but i finally got out of my writers block so heres a fic i wrote in 1 hour at 11pm

cw: su*cide, grief, death (let me know if i need to add anymore) 

a/n: guess who finally finished reading the song of achilles and has a hyperfixation on it now?!?!??!?! anyways have achilles’ perspective of patroclus’ death with how i think it would have went :]

word count: 1037

I have been through so much pain in my life. Mentally and physically, I am a warrior after all. Aristos achaion. The best of the Greeks. However, no pain, no title, absolutely nothing could have possibly prepared me for this. The overwhelming pain that consumed my entire being, swallowing me whole, eating away at my smile, my laugh, even my will to live. Especially my will to live.

The pain, no- there was no singular word to describe what I am feeling. The absolute heart wrenching, world ending, all consuming feelings I am drowning in. The feelings that are begging me to let go, to just sink to the bottom and give up. There was no use in fighting anymore. No use in running. The one thing I live for is gone. The love of my life. My first and only love. The last love I would ever have, gone.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

No one could bring him back. No matter how much I begged, pleaded, or screamed to take his place, nothing. No god or goddess would even listen to my screaming prayers, let alone answer them. They would ignore my agony, my all consuming grief.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

All this pain, just over a stupid title. My stupid pride. Maybe if I had been less prideful I wouldn’t be feeling the crushing pain I had been feeling for what felt like years. Maybe if I had just continued to fight for Agamemnon, continued to fight for my people, Patroclus would still be here. If I had listened to Phoenix, or Odysseus, or… Patroclus, he would still be here.

It had been my own hubris that caused the love of my life to leave me all too soon. I was blinded by my ego and flown far too close to the sun. Except instead of my wings melting, it had been Patroclus’ wings.

It didn’t seem fair. Patroclus’ life for mine.

Patroclus’ life for my own arrogance.

It should have been my downfall, not Patroclus’.

“He died a hero!” Everyone cried to me. The love of my life died doing what I couldn’t.

Be a hero.

The worst pain (although that didn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing) I had ever felt, all because of one slight from Agamemnon. The torturous feeling that never seemed to lessen, only grow the longer I go without my other half, all because of my pride. My arrogance. My vanity.

The second half of my soul, missing. I have never felt more empty. All I could do was hold his body. Pretend he’s only sleeping, ready to wake up at any moment.

When I had gotten the news, the only thing I could do was hold him. Hold him before I was gone too. Hold him until we are together again. Until I had the second half of my soul back. Until he had his.

I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t drank, or spoken anything except his name. For hours, possibly days (time went by so slowly without Patroclus by my side, it was hard to keep track anymore) I screamed for him. Screamed until my voice was gone, then continuing. No amount of physical pain would ever compare to the waves of agony that never ceased their motion, crashing down onto me in a never ending cycle. No relief. Only the constant reminder of what I had lost. Of what I had caused to happen.

The only miniscule moments of relief I get are fitful, restless sleeps. Sleeps with nightmares of Patroclus calling out for me, begging for me to save him, only for me to be too late. Of waking up to save him, only to find his corpse next to me, my head on his stomach, covering the wound that killed him.

During my fitful naps, it’s easier to pretend Patroclus is sleeping next to me. That we’re holding each other close, just like we used to do in Chiron’s cave. Gods, I would do anything to go back to those days.

The childish innocence and naivety, the hopefulness, moments so full of love and passion, yet still so inexperienced. Experiencing the world together without the harsh realities having yet struck us. Young, innocent love that we were so certain would last.

I suppose it did last, just not in the way we had hoped. I still loved him as much as I did when we were teens, and I hope he felt the same.

We had spoken so much of our future plans, of what we were going to do together. Our elaborate, unrealistic adventures we would go on together, the fun we would have, the sights we would see, people we would save. All for naught.

Perhaps we could do these things together after death. Be happy together in the afterlife, our ashes mixed together, forever one. We could never be apart again.

Our souls forever combined, forever together, forever unchanging.

With one last sigh I stood up, looking around the tent we had shared for years. A few moments of glancing around in the dimness, I found what I had been looking for. The sword Patroclus had been using while he had died.

My sword. The one I had given him to fight my battles with.

With a shaky sob, I turned the sword around, plunging the blade into my stomach, the same wound he had inflicted onto him because of me. Our last moments would be the same, except his would be remembered as heroic.

I sank to the floor, a smile on my face. We would never be apart again.

*****

As I opened my eyes once again, I smiled upon seeing the Underworld. We were ready to be together again.

Mindlessly wandering around for what felt like hours, I found him sitting on a rock, looking up at the sky.

Patroclus. My second half.

Smile widening beyond what I felt was possible, I sprinted towards him as fast as I could, not bearing being apart for another moment. I finally reached him, tackling him to the ground like when we were kids.

‘Hello, Patroclus. I’ve missed you’

He smiled gently at me, ‘Hello, Achilles. I’ve missed you too.’

#the song of achilles #achilles #achilles x patroclus #achilles come down #patroclus #tso #tsoa spoilers #tsoa achilles #tsoa patroclus #tsoa patrochilles #madeline miller #patrochilles

[truckreincarnation]

How Does That Fucking Saying Go? | Shinjuku | Trial 4.4 | RE: Theophania

If he can’t hate anyone, then who….how does it go again..?

As soon as Theophania snarls out that first confession, Shin instantly gets ready to push back. Yet remaining to the sidelines as everyone else pushes back instead, especially listening to Avery. Their heartbreak was crushing, even to someone not involved.

And then the true confession came out.

……it wasn’t even her intention to kill them. She wouldn’t have even risked it if she knew they were around. As much as he wants to call her out for it, to get angry and explode over this causing the deaths of his bondmates…

…..he can’t.

Everything in his blood wishes he could have done anything to save either of them, and yet, once again, he couldn’t. Should he really be attacking Theophania for something like this? To follow in the footsteps of everyone else before?

….to go with instinct, rather than reason?

……..

Can he even bring himself to do that?

Though as Theophania breaks down, sobbing for everyone to hate her as she hates them, Shin just stares silently for a while. His gaze softens slightly, without any light returning at all, before he tries to find some words to speak. Tone still flat, but doing his best to look her in the eye.

“...I hear what you’re saying. I get what you’re saying, how you did something so horrible and that we should hate you for it. Hear ya loud and clear…”

….

“.......but I can’t. Sorry, Theophania, I can’t hate you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still greately upset, I’m just as angry, but… I’m not going to project it onto you. You’re already dealing with the fucking grief of killing them, why make shit worse. Plus, Bian has a point. Nobody should have died here. Nobody should have been affected by all of this. We were backed into corners, wanting to survive, trying to keep the people we care for alive…”

“....you wanted to get out, and I believe that you would never have done this if you knew. Even if we didn’t talk too much in depth, I still trust your judgment, and hell, even if our relationship is just… ‘okay’, I still wanted to keep an eye on you. You saw that when I gave you the potion and stuff.”

There, Shin sighs. “....so, yeah. I can’t hate you for being backed into needing to survive. I’ve said it many times, I’m not one to judge killers. Now, I will still condemn you, because of what happened to Luz and Frank, and my emotions still remain, but… I’m not going to scream or attack. I’m not going to hurt you more.”

Pause. “......you’re free to hate me though. I don’t mind anymore. I’ve tried to correct somethings, but you are still the judge of your own feelings. I’ve done shit that I understand if you hate me for so…. Fair. You can absolutely hate me, I’m just not reciprocating the feelings.”

He hopes Luz and Frank understand. If they hate him for it as well, then so be it. He’s tried. Tried soo hard to wrap his head around things, to try to empathize and show that he cares, that he’s trying so… so hard. To show that he, along with everyone else, is just trying to survive.

Hope it’s fine.

There, he slips off his glasses. It was so much harder now to try to keep everything together, after all this. More of his bondmates died unintentionally, that possibly… he could have done something. He wishes he could have done something to keep them alive. But that’s how it goes in this damn place, huh? He doesn’t lose,

Everyone loses.

But he remains to be like a curse.

“.....I’m not the one you probably want comfort or sympathy from. So, I’ll leave it at this. We all were forced into this fucking hell, a second fucking chance where we have to kill for entertainment and survival in this unknown place, thrown into this fucking war with endless horrors, and for what?? To keep fucking losing the people and things we care about??? I can’t hate you, I can hate everything else though.”

“......”

“.......I’m just… so fucking tired.”

“.... I leave my thoughts there.” With that, Shin signs quickly in his book. “......sorry, Theophania, for everything to turn out like this.”

He couldn’t hate her. As much as she treated him in certain ways, he doesn’t wish to reciprocate it. He can’t bring himself to hate her, on so many moral standpoints, in and out of here. He can’t bring himself to hate anyone here, even if he’s angry or condemning them. Shin couldn’t hate anyone else trapped here.

…..no one he could really hate but himself.

#Shinjuku #ch4 #trial4 #submission

[plumppushu]

I am not the kind of person who goes into personal stuff but… 2023 deserve a special note.

This year, I lost my older brother Yves. It was unexpected and it crushed my soul into million pieces. It was not the first sibling I lost but this time it did hit different… Michele, my older sister, died of cancer in June 2017. She had, for over a decade, cut contact with my dad for reasons that I can understand as an adult (and at the same time, me and my closest brother as we were kind of collateral damage). Yet the fact is she did and when she passed away I hadn’t seen her since she went no contact it was painful but still felt kind of an open door that will never close because there was (and still is) no closure… but my older brother, it was not the same.

I was not super close with him (distance between 2 provinces made things a bit difficult) but I was close enough to feel like my soul had been ripped from my body. That my heart was shredded into thousand pieces and that I had to go on with life knowing that he was gone and that I was still expected to be functional, to move on, to be a responsible adult.

8 months have passed and I am still not okay. I still grieve. I grieved and cried for Michele, the sister I grew up with and for Yves that I met in 2008, when he was finally ready to meet his biological family and more importantly his dad. Because back in the 1960’s it was impossible for my dad to have custody, because in the 1960’s, he was given to adoption and laws were different and well… things have changed now. Hoping that the path he was forced to take will never happen to any kids ever again. The sad part is it happened, he did his very best in life but it came to an end in April this year. And I am still so very angry that it came to pass, that he died and that I am bereft of my older brother.

We can say that life isn’t fair and all of that shit but I don’t care. I lost my older brother and I am still so sad that I I can’t properly deal with my pain.

Now. Here I am, with only one sibling left, feeling raw and still unsure of where things will go in 2024 and beyond. There is still so much regret, so much pain, so many things I should have done for myself that I did not in 2023 but it’s too late to go back and try to fix what you cannot. Too late and yet… the only thing left to do for me, for my dad, for my only sibling left… is to move forward. As hard as it is, there is no other issue or solution for us. My older brother is gone and nothing I can do will ever change that fact. I can scream into the void, bang at the Fates’ door and voiced out loud how unfair life is, how it is cruel for his own sons he is leaving behind, for my father who has to bury his second child, for my brother who has to go through a second time that one of his dear sibling has passed away. Loss is an unfair and cruel thing to deal with and sometimes unavoidable.

Here we are, close to the new year and yet, I wish I could go back to January 2023, when my older brother was still alive, when I gave him my last hug, when we missed each other’s calls and laughed about it and made plans to see each other when I would be back to my birth province. When he was still there, still traveling, still very much alive.

But I cannot. And I grieve. And i am not okay.

My life is moving on into 2024, with my own projects and goals and what I have left of my family and trying to heal and get better. It might be the year that will bring change to my life again but whatever pain it will bring, nothing will compare to 2023. Not for me anyways. Grief is a terrible thing to feel and it does not heal or go away no matter how hard we try and how much time will pass.

In 2017, the dying wish of my older sister Michele was that I would continue and make art. I did my BAC in comic books (and it was the best 3 years of my life) and grief made me stop creating and crushed my soul from doing anything artistic for over 5 years (last thing I did was a fanart online of Voltron, a fanzine that helped me for the first 10 days of my overwhelming grief) and did not do anything since. I moved one province over and never touched my drawing pad or did any fanart or OCs. Zero art at all. Now that I am still hurt, that I am still raw, still screaming my loss into the void, maybe I should start 2024 with Michele’s dying wish and channel my brother Yves’s grief with art. I think that would help my overwhelming grief to be channeled somewhere and turn my pain into something visual and to finally start healing my wounded soul.

I am not okay. But maybe I could try and work on making myself heal again? To live again? To at least make sure that both my siblings, through my art, can be alive again and maybe I could heal, tiny bit by tiny bit, and honor them by creating things that would make them proud?

2023 was probably the most painful year of my life but if I grow from this bad year then there could be something to learn from this sad part of my existence.

For those who are still living with sadness at the end of this year, you are not alone. Your feelings are valid, no matter how many months, years, decades it has been. Grief does not care about the passing of time. Life forces us to continue along the flow of our daily life and the world continue to turn, unaware of our deep pain.

But.

For some of us… life pause for an instant.

It stops and we cry and wail to an uncaring sky that continue to turn round and round, day and night.

It goes on for all the rest of the world that are nor aware we are screaming at the uncaring doors of death, trying to keep our loved ones close to us for just one more day, one more hour, one more minute.

And yet it is too late for us, for them, for it has passed and we are helpless to stop the sun to dawn on another day without our dear departed one that has left this world.

I lost my brother in April. I still grieve. And no matter how many months it has been I am still at death’s doors, banging, screaming, pleading for him to come back and to talk to me once more, to say “I love you” to his sons, to talk to my dad, to call me…to leave me a message on my phone so I can listen to his voice once more so I can never forget the sound of it, how it was filled with unsaid feelings of kindness and compassion.

I am still grieving. But I hope from the bottom of my heart that 2024 will help me heal from this deep and overwhelming pain i have in my soul.

********

May 2024 be soft and kind to anyone who are still in pain. Your grief is valid. Your pain is real but also reflect the deep love you have inside of you. And from one deeply wounded soul to another, may love and kindness come to you and heal your wounds with their compassion.

#tw #tw: sibling loss #tw: death #sibling loss #tw: grief #grief #there are some things I cannot share on my main social platform #I am venting my grief #I am venting my pain #if I could go back to 2023 I would give half of my lifespan and at least 2 of my main organs for it #dealing with grief #still screaming into the void #might delete later #some things cannot be shared with my loved ones for I would cause them pain #and I care too much about them to hurt them more #no hard feelings between me and my loved ones #just a deep desire for them to heal and to be better

[tetrisfinished]

i want to write, but i don't want to write, but i really want to write.

that's my headspace right now - not sure what level of word vomit is about to come out. consider this a fair warning.

so i guess let's start with that - yasir's gone to pakistan for a few months! so i'm flying solo as far as parenting goes these days. he left last saturday (today marks exactly one week) and will return at the end of january.

i gotta say, it's actually been really great!

i have the capacity and i'm capable of doing all the tasks i need to have done on a daily basis and it's really really FUN to "play house" for real actually. even the accomplishment or happiness of taking out the trash.

it's been peaceful and nice, minus esa's tantrums but all within reason.

the thing that has SUCKED though is watching esa search for his baba on a daily basis many times a day.

today the doorbell rang and esa said "it must be baba".

last night he came into my room and the comforter was squished up to one side and he thought it was yasir sleeping under there.

the first monday and tuesday he came home from daycare, came in the door and yelled "babaaaa"

today he made like 3 pieces of art works and came and showed every single one to me and told me "this is for dad". and i said i love it baby, and baba will love it too.

at the third one, he said "i know baba is in pakistan".

it's so weird to feel truly truly empathetic for someone. i am an empathetic person, but it is so weird to have absolutely no freaking idea what sort of pain esa must be feeling while at the same time feel the same exact soul crushing pain that he must be feeling.

it takes my breath away a little every single time.

my kid is in a pain i cannot relate to, and yet i can feel his pain in my being. i can see the momentary hope and happiness fly away from his eyes when the thing he thought was his baba is actually not his baba.

leading up to when yasir left, we had a lot of fights between us. and on the last day i guess they sort of dissipated and while he was in the plane, i asked him to forgive me for the grief i gave him. and he asked me to forgive him for the two hard months.

it's not hard. and if it is, i forgive yasir in an instant. i can handle my kid being a kid. i can handle whatever tantrum, lack of sleep, diva behaviour he will throw my way.

there is nothing to forgive in my brain for any of that stuff because i'm parenting and i want to do it. it's tough and hard and i would love a break here and there, but i'm okay and i'm handling it.

but i don't know that i'll ever be able to forgive seeing esa so sad for two months straight. i won't ever want to forgive it, and i won't likely forget it anytime soon. or ever.

and these moments will stew in my brain until they fully tenderize and i start to protect esa from his own father.

even now, i have half a mind to cut off calling yasir cold turkey so that i can shield esa from later pain and just get him used to yasir not being physically around.

because frankly even when he's physically present, what good is it when he is never mentally present. having a physically present parent be absorbed in his device 24/7 is not much better than having a physically absent parent.

but i won't do that. i will continue to receive his calls and call him when esa wants to speak with him. i'm just praying and hoping to GOD that yasir realizes what he's done. and how he's making his own child feel.

and that's all i want to say on that.

good night.

-k

#parenting