#actually though it bothers me so much when romance is seen as the happiest end for a person so creators and fandoms enforce it so hard

[aaronymous999]

I will never shut up about one of the worst tropes in fiction THAT NOBODY TALKS ABOUT- and ahem the winner is: “Pairing off every main character, and I mean EVERY into a romantic relationship at the end of the story or sometime during the story” even if it makes no sense to the plot, or the character made it clear they aren’t interested in romance, all because some authors for some reason ( there actually is a reason but yknow ) think all the characters need to be paired off for a happy ending. Fandoms engage in this trope too sometimes and I very much so dislike it. And then there’s the weird cousin of this trope, “Most characters get paired off, but mostly the women, the men don’t need a partner and three kids, mainly just the women.” LOOKING AT YOU WARRIOR CATS DONT DENY IT YOU ARE GUILTY AS CHARGED.

[elriell]

Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds

There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.

I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it. 

We are going to dive in to the following;

Lucien & Elain  (their choices)

Lucien & Azriel  (contrast)

Rejecting the Bond

New Bonds

Fate & THE POV 

and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...

Lucien 

Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it. 

He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them. 

That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.

It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.

We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.

I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.

There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can. 

This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her. 

The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain. 

(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)

These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.

And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.

Elain

Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.

If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.

She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part. 

[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.] 

Rejecting the Bond

We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.

We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)  

Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”. 

There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.

Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.

I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision. 

Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.

All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.

And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.

Lucien + Azriel  &  Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.

“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.

I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/

Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.

But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss. 

It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.

I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.

And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.

Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.

First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?

Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction. 

They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.

And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.

On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”

First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.

Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.

Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;

The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;

So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.

Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?

Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”

No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be. 

I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.

ANYWAYS back on topic.

I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point. 

I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.

There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha 

One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.

Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.

And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!

(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 3 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Here’s part 3 of the Marco’s Bauble story, posted last month on Patreon!

Finally, an appearance from Marco himself ^ ^

Contains mention of Marco x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

~~

Namur takes great pride in being a fishman in the Whitebeard Pirates.

Fishmen and merfolk are usually usually reluctant to join human-dominated organizations, and with good reason, given their long and painful history of suffering prejudice. And for those few who do feel the call of pirating, joining Jinbe and the Sun Pirates to be among their own kind is a natural and comfortable choice.

Jinbe's a good friend, and Namur has nothing but the highest respect for him and Aladine, but he's already chosen who to follow.

Pops, who stood up and protected Fishman island with just one word. Pops, who lets them keep his flag on the island without any tribute, which not even the world government would allow. Pops, who personally brings the wrath of colossal waves and quaking earth every time humans try to bring trouble to the undersea oasis.

Namur knew that he'd be alone among humans, but he trusts Pops, and trusts those who follow him and protect his home alongside him. And given everything he's done for Fishman Island, Namur feels it only fitting that fishmen be represented on the crew.

And so Namur became the first Fishman to join the Whitebeard pirates, but he wasn't the last. By the time Namur had been raised to the rank of 8th Division Commander, a handful of others had joined, along with a number of other people from various tribes considered not quite fully human. Some minks, some longarms, even one guy from a sky island.

In a crew as massive as theirs, diversity isn't surprising, and Pops has ensured they've never been alienated. Even so, the 8th Division became a natural gathering spot for those seeking others who are also a little different, and Namur's damn proud of his versatile, unique division that can handle missions that no other group can.

Namur's happiest aboard the Moby, and it's his one true home now. But at the same time, after spending so much time away from Fishman island, he sometimes misses his birth homeland and culture.

Which is why it feels like reverse culture shock when something familiar appears in front of him with no warning.

Like right now. On Marco's desk.

"Uh," Namur says eloquently, reports in his hand forgotten, eyes glued to the Thing that Marco's now wrapping in what looks like a letter, written in Marco's unmistakable elegant cursive.

"Sorry, I'll be done in a second, yoi," Marco says, and Namur freezes, realizing he must have intruded on possibly a very private moment--except Marco doesn't seem particularly bothered.

Well, even if Marco doesn't mind, Namur still feels awkward, and forces himself to avoid looking at the now-wrapped Thing. He really feels like he just saw something he shouldn't have. Had he knocked before coming in? He thought he had. He thought Marco had told him to come in, but now he's not so sure, because dropping by Marco's office to hand in reports is so habitual. Namur begins to sweat.

"Alright, what is it?"

Marco turns around, and he's wearing those glasses he always wears when he has to pour over documents for hours, that somehow make the legendary Phoenix look less like a terrifying warrior and more like an exhausted secretary. He's wearing his usual open shirt, Pops's mark proudly emblazoned on his chest, and his head still looks like a tropical fruit, and his face still looks kinda stoned. So, the usual Marco. Nothing amiss.

But maybe he's just hiding it. Humans can be so hard to read at times, and Marco wears his poker face better than most. Even though Namur's been his crew mate for roughly twenty years now, he still can't really see through it. Namur fidgets, palms feeling slick.

"Reports from the Eighth's last mission?" Marco prompts, and Namur flinches because oh, he'd been staring.

"Uh, yeah," he forces out, and raises his arm mechanically to pass over the bundle of documents he'd spent the entire morning writing up.

He notices that Marco uses his right hand to take it. He's heard that sometimes, humans wear the equivalent of the Thing on their left hand, and Namur realizes he hasn't seen (or perhaps just hasn't noticed) Marco's left hand in a while. He wonders if Marco's actually hiding it, and sneakily tries to peek at Marco's left side.

Apparently not sneakily enough, because Marco's sharp eyes flick to his side to try to catch what he must have thought Namur was trying to see, and Namur hastily straightens.

They stare at each other and the silence stretches awkwardly, and oh, Namur can tell this one, Marco looks very Confused. It comes off as sorta constipated, but Namur knows Marco well enough recognize the emotion on his questionably human face, and immediately feels bad. He didn't mean to act suspiciously, or snoop in Marco's personal life, but...he's so unbearably curious.

Namur supposes honesty is better.

"Marco," he tries to choose his words carefully, "that, on your desk..." Namur makes a vague jerky motion at the Thing.

"Oh, this?" Marco plucks up the little bundle that's now tied off with twine. "I was just going to send it off to Thatch."

Namur chokes on his own spit.

"You're, Th-Thatch?" Namur wheezes. "You're giving...to him?!"

Namur feels like he's just been sucked into a whirlpool, his world's suddenly tilting in every direction all at once. He doesn't have a problem with them being, y'know! Of course not! He supports his friends! It's just, well, he's surprised, because he'd never even suspected these particular brothers were anything but close friends, because it's Marco and Thatch, and he's been living with them for twenty years and--oh no, did everyone other than Namur actually know all along, is this Human Stuff again--

"Oh, no," Marco says with a soft laugh. "This isn't for him, yoi. He's just delivering it for me. It's for Ace's little brother."

Namur heaves out a huge sigh of relief. It's not Thatch. Oh thank goodness. Not that he doesn't think that Marco and Thatch wouldn't be great together. But. He's glad it wasn't just Namur misunderstanding...

Namur chokes on his own spit, again.

"Ace's little brother?" he tries hard not to shriek, and it comes out even tinier than expected, barely a whisper of a strangled sardine.

Marco frowns a bit at Namur's weird voice and offers him a bottle of fresh water from his side desk, which Namur shakily accepts. This is a lot to process.

"She's...ah, Ace said it's alright if Division Commanders know, but try not to spread this around too much. But she's a mermaid. I thought it'd be fitting," Marco says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Ah," Namur nods, feeling numb. That does make a lot of sense, far more sense than giving That to Thatch at least.

A mermaid. Ace referring to his mermaid sister as "brother" also makes plenty of sense, given how vulnerable mermaids are in the world of pirates. In fact, it makes so much sense, and Namur wants to applaud Ace's discretion, he didn't seem the type to have that kind of tact and Namur's genuinely impressed, but his mind's also kind of overloaded right now.

"Although, Namur, since you're here..." Marco looks down at the parcel, dwarfed in his palm. "Do you think she'll like it? Or is it too bold, from someone she's never even met?"

It might be a trick of the light but...does Marco look, demure?

Namur's eyes bug out.

Holy shit. This is the real deal.

Namur's never known Marco to have a personal life or interest in anyone, the man's the definition of dedicating his life to the crew. But perhaps he was just being discreet, because surely everyone has a some soft spot or another, and Namur has just found Marco's.

And they've never even met?! They have a long distance relationship too. She's all the way in East Blue, and they correspond via letters and packages. All those oceans between them...

And on top of that, a mermaid and phoenix. She, bound in water, reaching up for the unattainable, while he, bound to the sky, doomed to drown if he touches her domain...like epic lovers torn apart by fate, just like the fairy tale of the fish princess and the bird, beloved by all fishmen and merfolk...

Namur feels his eyes sting a bit from the tragic romance of it all. But now Ace and Thatch have gone to retrieve her, and she'll be coming home to the Moby Dick soon. They'll be united. They'll get their happy ending.

Namur reigns in his overflowing emotions, remembering that he has an important task.

Do you think she'll like it? Or is it too bold?

Marco has consulted in Namur, his closest friend, his fishman expert confidant. This is his time to shine, his chance to give back a little for all the kindness and support Marco's shown him all these years. And Namur will not disappoint.

Namur composes himself, and then takes his reports back from Marco's hand, letting them go because they're suddenly utterly unimportant in light of Marco's blossoming future. He then grasps the now-empty hand, so warm and human, with both of his webbed ones. Marco's eyes widen in alarm as the papers flutter all around them, but Namur ignores them.

"Marco, I promise you, she'll love it," Namur pours every ounce of sincerity he has into his words, and feels his eyes begin to water again from the weight of it all. "I just want to say, I'm super happy for you, brother, and you can come to me for anything."

Marco stares at Namur, and Namur wills him to understand the depth of Namur's dedication to helping his dreams come true.

"...Right. Thanks, yoi?"

Namur doesn't see Marco's eyebrows climb up into his little mop of hair, doesn't notice him try and fail to extract his hand, doesn't notice him looking completely and utterly lost.

Because Namur's so overwhelmed. They grow up so fast! His friend's taking his next big step in life! And Namur gets to see it through! Being alive is incredible!

~~

Namur leaves eventually, and Marco stares blankly after him, hand still cramped from being death-gripped by the fishman for who knows how long.

He has no idea what just happened.

He then looks at the reports that are now scattered across his entire office.

"...He could have at least picked them up, yoi..."

~~

~~

~~

Namur is this guy here.

While he's a canon chara, he's also bg, and like most of Whitebeard's crew other than a core handful, we know very little about him and his personality and backstory is entirely me making it up ^ ^;

Next up in Marco's Bauble #04:

Namur values his crew's privacy. And given that he doubts he was even supposed to see Marco's secret, he absolutely can't disclose it to anyone.

Which is why he's snuck into Izo's room at ass o'clock in the morning, when everyone but the morning shift is asleep, but Izo's awake because he takes a few hours doing his hair and makeup.

Anyway, if you got through to the end, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

As always, comments/reblogs/tags always immensely appreciated!!! <3 People sharing their thoughts with me motivates me to write so much more, and update more frequently, so thank you so much for everyone who’s so kindly done so in the past!! ;A;

(and if anyone wants an early look, the next parts are already up on my Patreon ;D)

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 4

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[sumeshi-t]

higanbana;

A/N: Okay, a bit late I guess but I started writing this 19th July. Didn't make it in time. Also I forgot which blog I saw the prompts from lmao this is also kinda self-indulgent but hey what’s the use of making self-inserts for your self right

Pairing: OikawaxReader

Wordcount: 3,303 trash

Genre: angst??? try-hard angst yeah im sorry got lost in how to end it i--

*higanbana = red spider lilies. they are associated with final goodbyes, and legend has it that these flowers grow wherever people part ways for good.

tagging some cute lil haikyuu friends :( @floofwrites @akaashit-baeji @sportanime-maniac

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"(y/n)?" Iwaizumi's voice sounded strained, tired even, as he spoke to you through his phone's mouthpiece. You ask what was bothering him on such a fine weekend afternoon. 

"It's been... bugging me for days now, it's such a pain in the ass." 

You hum, taking your time chewing the chips you've put in your mouth. You were binge watching movies on your free day when he called. "Well, you know, that isn't really part of my job. But congratulations on devirginizing your ass, I guess." 

Iwaizumi stutters, and you could clearly see the image of horror and embarrassment on his face in your mind. "T-That's not what I meant!" He clears his throat, before continuing. "Just... I feel like playing again. And I think I've become rusty for the past year."

He hears you gasp, and he wasted no more time in setting a meeting place before completely hanging up on you.

Warmth spreads throughout your chest at his sudden call and the reason why he wanted to meet up suddenly made you giddy. 

You and Iwaizumi go a long way back—way back middle school. By the time you graduated from college, he finally got accepted to play and be part of the National team. So you mustered enough courage and confidence, gathered some experience before applying for the team's physical therapist.

Luckily though, you got hired, and even received compliments from the coach saying that they have never seen the players perform to "such an extent".

It was a fun experience, the team had a great run during those times but one day, Iwaizumi decided to quit. Until now, you never knew why, but soon after he did, you also bid farewell to the team and began working in hospitals or nursing facilities.

So hearing that he wanted to play again set you in a good mood; you even start rummaging through your old files for the training regimen you used to give him, and brought it along with you.

You passed by a convenience store, grabbed two bottles of a light alcoholic drink, the celebratory mood getting to you.

Until you felt utter disappointment, confusion, and even a little annoyed at seeing who was there on the bench, waiting.

"(y/n)-chan~!" 

It was him. 

You suddenly wished that aliens were real so they could just take him. 

"You still call me that? Stop it. Where's Hajime?" You still weren't sitting, tempted to throw the bottles to his good-looking face before he could answer your question. 

Oikawa pouted, scooting over to make space beside him for you on the bench. "First name basis? You two that close already?" 

You didn't even try to understand the underlying tones that statement had. "None of your business. Now if you're not gonna tell me where he is, I'm gonna have to leave. Nice seeing you," 

As you turned around to leave, Oikawa stops you by saying, "I had him call you so we could meet here. So obviously, he's not coming." 

You hesitated, but with a deep sigh, you wordlessly made your way to the bench, placing all the stuff you brought between you and the brunette. He looks down at what you did, and when you weren't looking at him, Oikawa pops open both bottles with a little trick, trying not to smile that you decided to stay. He places your drink next to you, as he holds his own and takes a sip.

Oikawa just looks at you in silence, as your eyes focus on the red spider lilies before you; lined in a straight path, some surrounding the tree nearby. Both your face and his was unreadable, and when you couldn't bear the silence much longer, you took a breath before speaking.

"You didn't have to do that." your eyes narrowed, still refusing to look at Oikawa. 

"Do what?" the way he was feigning innocence got on your nerves a bit but you decided to settle things as mature as adults could be.

"...this whole thing, making Hajime set this up. There's actually, absolutely, no need for it."

"I just need an excuse to hang out with you." He answered immediately, gauging your reaction. Oikawa takes another sip of his drink, "It's been a while since we last talked, (y/n)-chan. I tried texting or calling you but I figured you probably changed numbers."

You bit your bottom lip, looking down on your feet. You take a single gulp of the alcohol and leaned back on your seat, trying to at least relax and feel more comfortable in your own space.

"Why? Felt bored?" You finally spare him a quick glance, and your ex had a long leg over the other, both hands now inside the pockets of his jersey jacket. There was a small flag of Japan by the chest and only then did you remember that he was now also a member of the volleyball National team; perhaps even their captain—you didn't know. Ever since leaving the team, you didn't bother catching up to any news about them. 

When Oikawa didn't answer your question, you mumble, "I heard... you were doing good." 

He shrugs, "More or less... and you?" The brunette sighs, scratching the back of his head. He turned to you with a  slight pout, which you couldn't tear your eyes off of. "Why are we talking like we have sticks up our asses? Iwa-chan sure is rubbing off on you real good." Oikawa whines, his nose stuck in the air after grunting. 

You didn't know why but you found it ridiculous, that you were reminded of the times when you were younger. A chuckle escapes your lips, making his brows raise at your sudden reaction. "God, are you six or something? Trying to be all cute and whiny?"

Oikawa smirks, "So first it's 'nice seeing you'; and now you're saying I'm cute? (y/n)-chan, I'm very flattered. But there's no need to tell me what I already know." He even had the audacity to wink at you and stick his tongue out.

You lightly punch his shoulder, rolling your eyes at his display of narcissism. "Hah, some things... really don't change." 

Oikawa's short burst of playful attitude came to a progressive stop, his calm demeanor slowly resurfacing. "Yeah... guess you could say that."

He then rummages through the files you brought along for Iwaizumi, and he hums in acknowledgment. "So you did become a PT." Oikawa was mumbling to himself, and you didn't even try to take back the folder he was holding. 

'It's better to have minimal physical contact as much as possible.'

You notice his brows scrunching together, and assumed that he was trying to read through the small fonts you used, as Oikawa wasn't wearing his glasses. But what you didn't know was that he was actually glaring at Iwaizumi's photo.

He returns the folder to you, "Think you can be my therapist?" Then, his other hand pats his bad knee thrice.

The question caught you off-guard; just as quick as the good memories flashed by, the bad and painful ones that replaced it were the hardest to ignore. It triggered the memory that began the downfall of your relationship with Oikawa.

See, you and him had made the relationship work through  some similarities and despite of your differences.

You were understanding and supportive of his passion and commitment to his volleyball career. You went to his games and cheered him on no matter the results were; when you had free time, you'd wait until night for him to be done with practice. Meanwhile, he never felt as though you were dragging him down; he even learned to appreciate classic rom-coms because of you and had some of your favorites next to his sci-fi stash; and of course, he fueled the drive you had for achieving your dreams of becoming a doctor.

The amount of selfies you've taken with him is unreal; your gallery also full of memes you both send to Iwaizumi even during dead hours of the night. You hated his gut sometimes, and he doesn't like it when even you nag at him; you were both stubborn, had a little pride here and there—but you knew you felt the happiest when with him, and he always told you that he felt the same.

College came. You were in different universities, but was in the same one as Iwaizumi's. When you were still a freshman, you still had some time to spare; meet up after practice, or him waiting for your class to end. 

It was interesting: you knew one way or another, a match between your university and his would be inevitable.

And Oikawa's team always won. 

But as the semesters went on, both of you spent less and less time together, talked more on occasion than how it used to be. 

For you that was fine, you understood that careers must be prioritized than relationships because both of you were at that age which would decide your individual futures. 

Sometimes you'd get jealous at some of your friends when they're gushing about their own adventures in the romance department that you even mockingly ask yourself if you're actually single.

The relationship just came to a point where you felt like you were the only one trying, making it an effort to meet or hang out.

You had to admit to yourself: it was tiring. And all these, you had no choice but to rant it all out on Iwaizumi—which was part of the reason why you two became much closer. It was completely platonic for you though, no doubt about that.

There was a particular match, you finally had some spare time from your busy schedule and brain-draining program, that you managed to watch it. Though, you were a little late, having arrived halfway through. 

Every step you took closer to the stands, the more you became eager to feel the rush of adrenaline through your veins, of having your throat going dry from screaming and cheering—

But you didn't expect that you'd instead have to swallow a lump in your throat and push back tears. 

When you arrived, the first thing you saw was your boyfriend, Oikawa, lying on the floor of the court, clutching his knee, teeth gritted, sweat and probably some tears on his pained face. And Iwaizumi, on the other side of the net, frozen in shock at what was happening to his bestest friend.

Next thing you knew, you were in the hospital.

It was a bad fall they said.

Probably the court was too slippery. A little misstep.

The worst was that maybe it was the beginning of the end of his career. 

The following days, weeks, weren't really the best. You could say bad things turned to worse things. 

The doctor was a bit too pessimistic for your liking, saying that Oikawa might never be able to use that knee again for volleyball, post-surgery. 

"Since when did you know about this? Was it after the Karasuno match? Or during your freshman year in college? Tooru... please..." you asked him, as he stared ahead at the wall, the usual cheerful dork now seemed to have aged ten more years at the hurtful words of his own doctor. 

Oikawa didn't answer. He didn't know how to answer and he felt that everything came crashing down as he began building his walls higher, keeping everything and everyone out—even you.

You reached out to caress his knee, and you noted the flinch he made under your touch. "Hey... I know it's hard right now, but... trust me, I don't think what the doctor said was true." You pursed your lips; still no reaction from him. 

"I mean... this is why rehabilitation medicine exists! I believe that this could still be worked on and you'll be in your best state in a few month's time, Tooru." You were speaking from your little therapist-to-be heart, the passion, the blood, sweat and tears you've shed so far serving as fuel to strengthen your resolve in wanting to help heal your boyfriend.

You pulled your hand away when Oikawa let out a scoff. 

He gave you a ridiculing look, "What do you know? I don't see you having any problem with your knee."

"T-Tooru... I—"

"Why? Just because you're a student now, you honestly think you could be my therapist?"

Were you hurt? Very. But then there was a voice in your head saying that Oikawa was in much more pain than you could imagine. And so you waited. Patiently. Diligently. 

You didn't want to let him see you crumble at his mere words that only stemmed from his self-loathing. This isn't him, this isn't him. It was your new mantra. 

You could only take so much. 

You still end up crying it out on Iwaizumi. He was able to provide you with the head space you could breathe in. You didn't realize that Oikawa could sense this. That was your mistake, you knew that but only after the split.

"Why don't you leave me alone? All I see from you now is pity. Guess what, (y/n), I don't need any of that from you. Right? I don't make you happy anymore right? You think I didn't know you've already found someone better?" 

This was his mistake. 

The memory of your tears, of your trembling hands, and voice breaking—still stung in his mind. 

"Not once did I pity you, Tooru, because that's not what you need. All this time, I've endured every word you hurled at me like I'm your least favorite person in the world." You sniffed, swallowed. 

"But if that's what's going to make you better, make you happier—then I'll go. I hope you understand how much I've exceeded my limits, only for you to throw me out over and over again."

You gripped hard on the doorknob, and said your final words. "And leave Iwa-kun out of this. I didn't think you would actually doubt a friend and your own girlfriend." You bitterly smile, causing the tears that pooled in your lids to fall.

"Maybe I was wrong to assume that I could become your stronghold through this. I'm sorry for disappointing you, Tooru. Get well soon,"

"And we never talked after that." he murmured, eyes reddening, jaw clenched in an attempt to fight his own tears from falling. 

And you?

You've downed half of your bottle in one go. 

You refuse to look at him because you knew your heart's wounds would reopen and be like onions to your eyes. You let the alcohol spread to make you numb. More, more, you said.

"It's embarrassing but... since you left I have no one to talk to. The days I spent in the hospital was a lot bearable when you used to visit me." 

You took another swig of the alcohol. Another bitter smile  on your lips more bitter than what was burning your throat. "Then don't talk to me now like you're coming back."

"Don't you want me back?"

Your heart ached at his question. You bit your lip, sniffing, trying to find the right answer—your heart wanted yes, but your mind wanted no. "Did I even mean anything to you? Was that all I was to you—just another person you could talk to?"

Oikawa winced at your words. "(y/n), I—I... of course not! You're worth more than that to me!" there was a shaky exhale, and a quick intake of air right after. You figured that he was choking on his own fought back sobs. "I... I'm sorry but I just miss you so, so, so much."

This time, you tried looking him in the eye—and all you could see was a mirror of your own pain. His ears were already red, indicating the emotions he was holding back on you—a trait of his that you can't seem to forget.

"There's a difference between missing someone and missing having someone, Oikawa." He flinched at how much you tried to put distance between the two of you for calling him that way. Oikawa tried to answer but you continued, "I, for one, miss you because I..." you gasped, letting the tears stream down your face. "Because I never stopped loving you, Tooru."

Oikawa was frozen in his seat, watching you as you harshly wiped tear streaks from your face, finishing your drink then gathering your things and standing up to leave. You quickly walked away without looking back, and that was the only time the brunette finally found how to move his limbs. He was so at a loss that he forgot his own unfinished drink on the bench.

"W-Wait, (y/n)-chan! (y/n)," Oikawa chased after you, unable to control his own strength once he grabbed your arm, making all your things fall to the grass. You pull your arm away but he holds you by the shoulders.

"Why are you leaving? I'm not going to push you away anymore, (y/n)." His grip on you got tighter, as if he was restraining himself from pulling you close to him and capturing your body in his. 

You look down, avoiding his stare, seeing red spider lilies once more by your feet where your things were scattered. 

His hands slide down to grasp your hands in his. They're still as warm as I remember them to be. 

"...Real feelings don't just go away."

"So why did you let me leave?" Your lips trembled, voice coming out in a whisper, voice cracking in the end. 

"(y/n), I know that what I did and said was wrong. I let my pride get in the way between us; I let my sadness eat me away." His hands were shaking now, a bit sweaty too. He sniffed, "You saw the messed up parts of me and stayed. But I was a jerk, a big asshole, for pushing you away. It was selfish of me... I... I didn't see that my in-actions would cause us to fall apart."

To your surprise, he pulled you in, burying his face near the crook of your neck. You could feel something wet seep into your shirt. "My biggest mistake was thinking I could live without you."

"But... I can see you're doing well now without me. Because you only waited this long to try and reach me? Why now when you could've done it before?" 

Oikawa hugs you tighter, shaking his head. "I just don't want to lose you; not again, not anymore. I love you (y/n), I never did stop."

Soon, he pulls away, eyes searching yours. You look up at him, and he wipes the tears from your face. "Can I be selfish one last time? Please give me another chance—I'll make it up to you."

You all but gently removed his touch from yours, and suddenly the air around you grew cold. 

"Tooru, I... I love you, I miss you, I forgive you. It was nice meeting you but... I don't think I'm ready to open my heart for you again. Maybe not now. Maybe not ever. Because I've made up my mind long ago to love you from afar."

You smiled softly and used the back of your hand to wipe his tears. Then, you stood on your tiptoes and placed a peck to his nose before turning away. 

Oikawa could only watch in silence at your retreating figure, wondering if this was the best thing for one or both of you. Everything now was even more unsure for him; except for the fact that a new-found determination sprang in his chest. 

Oikawa Tooru was going to win your heart back, no matter what it takes.

[justsomebucky]

Flicker

Summary: Canon(ish). Being in a relationship with a superhero is hard work.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,222

Warnings: language, timeline manipulation, angst, heavy self-reflection, no dialogue for once, cheesy, you know how I am already come on

A/N: This is my one-shot for @buckthegrump​’s angst & fluff challenge, where my prompt was the song “Flicker” by Niall Horan. I love this song, and it made me so sad I got out of bed (where I was being sad) to come write this sad (but hopeful) stream-of-conscious thing. Oh also it’s my first Steve fic, so please be gentle. I want to protect him, ohmygod.

You opened one eye slowly, then the other, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness. It was still early, much earlier than you were used to waking, but he’d already left - at least, his side of the bed was cold. A closer look at the smooth sheets suggested that he’d never come to bed at all.

The telltale signs of the needle scratching over his favorite Harry James record (at a low volume of course, because he was always polite like that) had announced his unexpected late arrival the night before. You figured he’d come find you, maybe call out your name softly as he searched each room just to see your face again after so long.

No such luck.

And you could have untangled your legs from your sheets and made your way into the living room to sit with him while he relaxed after a long day of…whatever it was he had done…but you didn’t. You stayed in your darkened bedroom, tangled in the sheets, eyes wide open as you stared at the bedroom door, willing him to walk through it.

It wasn’t a contest.

Neither of you were mad.

Something was just off, something was missing and had been for a while.

When you first met Steve Rogers, you kinda sorta knew who he was already.

Okay…that was a load of bullshit.

You knew exactly who he was, and that’s precisely why you tried to avoid him. And you didn’t just duck your head or leave the room, either, you flat-out made it clear that you understood what he did as a day job and while you respected the hell out of him, you wanted no part of it.

Your friends thought you were crazy. They wondered how you could possibly turn down the chance to be the girlfriend of one of the most famous men in the world. How could someone turn down handsome Steve Freakin’ Rogers, the original Avenger?

First of all, he would age much, much slower than you. How would that feel to turn look in the mirror one day and see your wrinkled face and grey hair while he still looked like a hot twenty-something?

Second, the danger of it all would keep you up at night with worry. You were already anxious enough, you didn’t need fifty more reasons to want to cry yourself to sleep.

Third, you knew that if you were ever to be with him, you’d be fourth place (at best) in his life, behind the rest of the world, the Avengers, and his unflinching sense of duty.

He tried here and there to use his sincerity, even a little bit of that old-fashioned charm, to take you out for a nice dinner or something. Each time, you gave him a big smile and told him he would meet a lucky lady someday, to save it for her.

But one day he approached you without all the charm and intensity you’d come to expect, and it was just…different.

His eyes were vulnerable, his shoulders drooping…and you weren’t one to swoop in and fix people or anything, but that had just been so out-of-character for him, for Steve Freakin’ Rogers, that you couldn’t help but put your reservations aside and try to at least be a good friend.

He’d lost so much time and so many people over the years that he became really good at hiding his own pain, but not in front of you. Even though you’d done all you could to avoid this man, for some reason you could read him, and he was hurting so much.

You started letting him in little by little, guarding your own heart while trying to repair his, but it was all for naught.

Steve Freakin’ Rogers, ya know...

And your feelings were stronger than you could have predicted.

When it was good, it was so good. The beginning, the honeymoon phase when a relationship is shiny and new and everything in the world is right, was probably the happiest you’d ever been in your entire life.

He’d leave from time to time, but it was never for that long at first. He kept you updated on everything he could, even learned how to Facetime for you, and his absence just made your reunions that much sweeter.

Like any cliché romance with a superhero though, the danger grew, and so did Steve’s unwillingness to step aside. That was just another thing you loved about him, though it made your heart sink just like you had predicted.

He was a good man…you couldn’t possibly hold him back from something he was meant to do.

And so each time he went away, he chipped off another piece of you and took it with him, leaving it wherever he ended up and inconveniently forgetting to return it.

Your work suffered. Your health became less-than-stellar, from both lack of sleep and lack of appetite.

Steve would come home and he would notice your state, but you would brush it off and say it was allergies or the neighbors were loud or work was stressing you out.

You never ever ever wanted to tell him the truth:

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep being the girlfriend of Steve Freakin’ Rogers.

It made you feel weak; neither of you needed that. He needed you to be strong in the moments he couldn’t be, when he actually found time to come home to you, because he’d spent all his energy and strength on everyone else. You were lucky he was coming home at all; so many others weren’t as fortunate in life.

He bought your excuses at first, or at least he acted like he did.

Worried glances, furrowed brows, and attempts to get you to eat and sleep were all noted but disregarded as you changed the topic and fussed over him.

Where did that cut come from?

What happened to your motorcycle this time?

You didn’t call, I was so worried…

So no, it didn’t surprise you when he didn’t come into the bedroom to greet you, to hold you in his arms like he used to.

The distance was just too far anymore.

He didn’t leave a note before he took off either, something you realized when the first rays of sunshine hit your skin and you finally made your way to the living room.

You ran your fingers over the record player, noticing that he’d put the album back in its sleeve and in its place on the shelf. His leather jacket, not needed in the springtime heatwave, was hanging by the door. It was like he had never been there at all. The room reminded you of that exhibit in the Smithsonian, another pristine tribute to the former life of Captain America right in your own apartment. The difference was, you didn’t have a plaque describing what happened here. There was no video showing highlights of your time with him.

No note...

In the great scheme of things, you felt inconsequential.

None of his possessions made you feel any closer to him. None of them brought you solace on the long nights when you sat up wondering why you weren’t as important as strangers on the street to the man you loved.

Even the leather jacket, which you’d wrapped around yourself on more than one occasion, held no comfort for you anymore. His scent had worn off a long time ago.

He was simply fading away, and you hated it.

You longed for a resolution.

You could see it in your mind; he would walk in, and you would ask him to have a seat on the couch, and you would tell him that it was over. The sleepless nights could be someone else’s for a change, because you weren’t getting any younger and you needed some stability.

You needed some effort from a partner.

Your day passed by like it normally would for a Saturday spent alone. The sun got higher in the sky as you checked off a few errands and grabbed lunch at a little café that you’d become a regular at. Table for one? Yes, thank you.

You kept going, though, having gotten this solo act down pretty well by now.

After a while, the sun dipped lower in the sky, the city lights began to shine, the air became a little cooler, and you finally let yourself think about him again.

Part of the walk home included trudging past the first place you had ever laid eyes on Steve Rogers in person. He’d been jogging past your apartment, looking every bit the handsome superhero you’d seen on the news. Your chest tightened at the memory of him doing a double-take in your direction. He had become so distracted that he nearly fell face-first over a bicycle on the sidewalk.

And yeah, you still felt a little smug that you’d affected him that much just by existing.

What happened to those days?

Now he couldn’t even be bothered to wake you up in the next room when he was home for the first time in weeks.

You shook your head, refusing to tarnish such a happy, hilarious memory. If things truly weren’t going to work out, you were damn determined to at least stay friends. He was such a good man, he at least deserved that sort of closure.

The stairwell of your building was haunted by the ghosts of the two of you racing up to your floor (first one there gets to pick the movie!), and of him reaching for your hand the first time (see, this isn’t so bad, is it?). Even the landing near your front door brought back memories of all the times he wasn’t willing to wait until you were inside to kiss you, instead pressing you against the wall feverishly before his lips covered yours (I want you…).

Your heart was aching by the time you opened the door and went back inside.

Something was off again, though.

He was back.

Since the living room and kitchen were empty, you moved as quietly as possibly to the bedroom door, even though his heightened sense of hearing probably alerted him to your presence the second you got to the top of the stairs.  

He was there, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, and he made no move to look at you even when you stood in the doorway and waited.

Now there was a choice before you, and while your instincts told you to sleep on the couch that night, you moved forward into the darkened room and around to the other side of the bed.

It would be so much work, and he might not even be interested anymore, but you had to know for sure if there was anything left...if a future would be possible in those circumstances, even as friends.

You gave him one last chance as you paused at the side of the bed, waiting in case he wanted to protest, to reject you and tell you not tonight or something.

He didn’t move a muscle...didn’t even blink.

You slipped off your shoes and crawled on top of the messy sheets until you were on your side facing him, though you didn’t reach out for him just yet.

His hair was longer, you noted, and he had a beard that was sort of dark and messy. It made him look dangerous, a little wilder than you were used to seeing.

God, you loved it.

After a minute, he wordlessly lifted his arm in an open, unspoken truce. You almost immediately tucked yourself against his body, letting your free arm wrap around his stomach as you pressed your head gently to his chest.

You heard his heartbeat, that’s how silent it was in the room.

It got you thinking about that sound and how much you’d missed it over the last few weeks. It made you think of the first night you’d spent with him, curled around him after an intimate moment, listening as his racing heart tried desperately to calm itself.

You thought about all the heartbeats you’d shared with him…all of your own heartbeats that were skipped because he smiled at you or kissed you, or you saw him across the room.

You wondered how you ever got to a place where someone’s heartbeat meant so much to you.

There, inside your chest, a tiny flicker of hope was starting to form. He was there, wasn’t he? He’d reciprocated.

He was holding you again, wasn’t he?

The flicker grew a little stronger as his heartbeat got a little louder.

Steve Freakin’ Rogers’ arm tightened around you, and a second later you felt his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Your self-preservation instincts were screaming inside your head by then, but his heartbeat did its best to drown it all out. This was your Steve Rogers, the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with that you’d promised to never lose sight of that love even in the darkest of moments.

That promise sparked some electric courage as you shifted to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes looked back at yours, searching in the dark for an echo, a sign…

…for that flicker of hope.

Your smile ignited.

---

[poeticallyundead]

#12

Dear You,

I miss you terribly. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you and ache from your absence. Thankfully, I’ve reached the point where hours will pass without a thought of you trickling in. However, I’m consistently wondering. Where are you? What are you doing? Do you miss me at all?

But I’ve realized that it’s more than simply missing you. I’m waiting for you. When we were discussing the end, I told you that I wouldn’t wait for you because I knew that it wouldn’t do either of us any good. Yet every time my phone vibrates, I hold my breath hoping that it’s you. I look for you in every crowd. And, worst of all, I still can’t see my future without you in it.

I’ve been depressed. Probably the worst depression I’ve had in years. The feelings of worthlessness have been overwhelming. I think it is partially because I am still holding on to you and I haven’t let myself start to heal. As much as I want to keep holding on, it’s time I said goodbye.

You were, by far, the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I learned so much about myself during our relationship. I learned what I wanted in life and realized what I’d been denying myself for years. You know me better than anyone on the planet. I never felt the need to hide anything from you. I shared with you some of my deepest secrets, fears, and anxieties. Maybe that’s another reason why this has been so difficult: to fully open myself up to someone and get rejected again is a new kind of vulnerability for me. Or perhaps it felt like I was losing bits and pieces of me that I’d handed over to you.

I almost wish you had been a complete dick on that last day or done something horrible that I couldn’t forgive. It would be so much easier than this amicable separation. All those sweet things you said just keep replaying in my mind, like daggers rather than the comfort you intended. Because how can I be all those things and still not be enough?

I wish there was something to hate about you, but there isn’t. You were everything I ever wanted too. That special something you kept mentioning? I felt that for you. It felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt like I’d finally found my place. I wish I’d gotten to enjoy more of you. I wish we’d taken that trip to Carlsbad or went to LA like we’d talked about. I wish I’d taken more pictures. I wish I had more mementos. I wish I’d randomly stopped by more often. I wish we’d had lunch together during one of our shifts. I wish I’d had breakfast with you after one of mine. I wish there had been more sleepovers. I wish there had been more cuddling. I wish I would have gotten to slow dance with you... just once. I wish I could have seen how we fought and what that first fight would have been about. I wish I had gotten to show you more horror movies. You’ve barely been educated... and Die Hard. And Krampus. I wish we’d cooked more together. I wish I wasn’t going to be single for another holiday season.... for another birthday... another New Year. I would have loved to share those with you. You fit in so fucking perfectly with my family. 

I was given this Ted Talk on getting over someone and one of his suggestions was to make a list of everything you hated about the person or bothered you about the person and keep the list on your phone so every time you started to miss them, you could look at the list and remind yourself why you’re better off without them. I couldn’t make that list. With everyone before you, I could do this. I could rationalize why it was better this way, what I was overlooking because of the blinding hormones. But there was nothing for you. You weren’t perfect, but I adored those imperfections.

Another thing this Ted Talk guy said is how dangerous hope is after a breakup. When I’m not telling myself how worthless and unlovable I am, I find myself hoping for another chance with you. It’s embarrassing to admit how many times I’ve imagined our second first date or bumping into you at the grocery store. Just hoping... so much hope. But hope is dangerous. It’s the methadone to the heroin of you. Small hits to remind me what I’m missing. So I have to admit to myself that it’s over. It goes beyond the fact that I’m not the girl the got away (I’m the drunken afterthought). I just don’t get my happily ever after and I have to be okay with that. 

Maybe things will change where I’ll feel like entering the dating world again someday, but honestly, how can anyone compare to you? Who else would stand behind me in line buying the thing the store didn’t have on Amazon to surprise me with later? Who else would hunt for my favorite flowers even though they are out of season and don’t often show up in this climate? Who else could actually convince me for even a moment (no matter how fleeting) that I’m actually as beautiful, smart, talented, and amazing as you said I was?

So I need to move on from you. I need to stop hoping and stop looking back. I’m going to try and push through this to find who I am on the other side of us. She’ll probably be stronger and more self-aware. Maybe more confident and less guarded. Hopefully, she runs.

Thank you for showing me what romance can be. Thank you for accepting all of me. Thank you for giving me incredible memories to cherish. You’ll definitely be one of my happiest memories.

I’ll never close the door on you, but I need to stop waiting for you by the windowsill. 

Goodbye

[earthbovndmisfit]

Provisional Title: The Happiest Days Of Our Lives Pairing: Jonawagon Another request, this time by @yarewagon​ who requested a “cheesy proposal” for the boys.

Notes: As far as I can remember, this is the first time ever I write a proposal scene, so I hope I got this right! Anxiety got me bad these past two days, so I extended it a bit to make up for making you wait longer than expected! Hope you like how this came out! Also, yup, that’s a Pink Floyd title right there as to follow the JoJo tradition.

Warnings: None. Just lots of fluff and mushy stuff. PDAs such as kisses, too, and the boys being happy.

I’m also adding some notes by the end of the story to explain a couples things that might need to be addressed! (under a Read More for length reasons)

A warm and lovely sunset -a rare occurrence in a place like London, vastly known for it’s gray skies and cold weather-, one of the best days and settings for a romantic date and, luckily for a certain gentleman, that happened to be the case for him and his partner as they laid down by by each other’s side. That blond man that had stuck by his side since day one, through all that nightmare he’d had to face at the hands of his brother; the same man he now was able to call his boyfriend.

On a green hill in the outskirts of London, where no one would interrupt them, that’s the spot they had picked for the picnic, and the one they were spending that delightful afternoon together. Just the two of them and the modest landscape around them. Hands held together, fingers lazily intertwined as they exchanged sweet nothings, laying so close to each other they could feel the other’s warmth.

They had been dating for a while. Months, now, more precisely, overcoming the minor issues that had come along the road in a time where romances between men, as well as those between people from different social classes, were seen as something distasteful. Even with all that, it was safe to say that both men felt like living in a dream, after all the things they had faced on their own before they had met, and after all those horrible things they had faced together while trying to stop Dio, side by side. Even with all those sleepless nights they had spent together, trying to heal each other’s psychological wounds that the encounter with the vampire and his zombies had left in each of them, resting in each other’s arms until everything fell okay once again and they fell asleep.

And yet, it still felt like something was missing. A little something that Jonathan hoped would turn into a reality soon...

“It’s a wonderful view, don’t you think?” Speedwagon’s voice coming out soft, almost like a whisper, dragging Jonathan out of his thoughts.

“It is, though, not nearly as wonderful as you, Robert.” The compliment earned a soft chuckle from the blond.

“You can be such a sap sometimes, did y’know that?” He teased playfully.

“Can’t be helped. It’s entirely your fault for being like this.”

“Like this? How?” Robert asked, lifting an eyebrow. He was turning his head towards the other when he heard the soft rustle of the blanket they were resting on beside him. Suddenly, Jonathan was now hovering over him, propping himself on his hands, one on either side of Speedwagon’s chest, with a loving smile on his face.

“This handsome.” He said, peppering kisses along Speedwagon’s scar, knowing all too well just how self conscious he was about it at times despite the many times Jonathan had tried to convince him about how charming it actually was to him. “This gallant.” He’d said as he pressed yet another kiss, this time, to his other cheek. “This dedicated, kindhearted and passionate.” Another kiss, this one to his forehead. “And all mine.” These last words coming out as a whisper as his lips met Robert’s. As he slipped his eyes closed, he could catch a glimpse of his boyfriend’s blushing face. A wonderful view, indeed.

Speedwagon wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck, wishing for the kiss to last for as long as it could.

“I’m takin’ it back. You are a huge sap.” Robert teased again when they pulled apart a bit, looking into each other’s eyes, admiring the way the dying sun shone in them; his arms still around the taller man’s neck. “...But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He added, pulling the other down for another kiss. A shorter one this time, but just as sweet as all those that had come before it.

“I’m so happy to hear that.” Jonathan replied. He was starting to get a bit uneasy about what he was planning to do next, but did his best to hide it from the other. He pulled back again, and Speedwagon released him. The gentleman moved over to the spot on the blanket where their coats were resting on, turning his back to the blond for a moment. Rummaging through the pockets of his own, he spoke again. “Robert, there’s... there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.”

“Hm? What is it, Jojo?” He asked, genuinely curious. His gaze fell upon his boyfriend’s broad back as he sat up so he could hear him better; one leg bent and his elbow resting on his knee, while his other hand went up to fix the mess his hair had probably become.

“You know how much you mean to me, right...?”

“Yes.”

“And you also know I would do anything for you...”

“Mh-hm.” Robert hummed as the Joestar got up and turned around to face him, still not getting what he was trying to get at with all this. The taller moved back to him, getting down on one knee once he was before him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this seemed to be going, and the bright blush that began to take over Speedwagon’s face as he stared at the other, his eyes widening, was a clear indicator that he was getting it. The hand that was going through his hair came to a full stop and then dropped by his side as the brunet went on, staring into Robert’s brown hues.

“...that I can’t live without you...”

“Jojo, are you...” His sentence never met it’s end as Jonathan softly nodded and went on before Speedwagon could say anything else. Robert’s mind could barely register that the flowers around them were starting to bloom. Hamon, all of it Jojo’s doing, of course.

“...and that there’s nothing else I would want more than to spend the rest of my life with you by my side...” The blond could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his hands beginning to shake a little in anticipation. “Robert, my dear, would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?” Jonathan added, doing his best to keep his own nervousness at bay as he produced a small burgundy box from which a golden ring was revealed.

“Oh, my God, Jonathan...” Robert’s gaze went up from the ring to meet Jonathan’s face and he could see a faint shade of red dusting his cheeks. Nothing in comparison to the blushing mess the ex-thug currently was, but it was there. “I... I don’t know what t’say. I’m just... God, I...”

“Just say you’ll do me the honor of sharing your life with me and make me the happiest man on Earth.” Robert was beyond overwhelmed, tears of happiness in his eyes, and a couple of them already rolling down his cheeks.

“I would love that! Lord... you have no idea how much I’ve longed for... well, f-for all of this. I would love to be your husband.” He said through it all, a warm smile on his face and Jonathan proceeded to take the ring out of the box. He then took Speedwagon’s hand in his own and carefully slid the ring on his finger. It was then that Robert could see a little closer some of the details on it. It was modestly decorated, for Jonathan knew well that Robert wasn’t the type for overly decorated pieces, and it was adorned with only two types of stones: Rubies and Jades. As soon as the ring was where it belonged, Robert threw his arms around the taller man’s neck once more, bringing him closer and kissed him again, sweetly, like he was so fond of doing. Jonathan kissed him in return, slipping his arms around Speedwagon’s waist.

“I love you so much.” He said as they pulled apart. “But I don’t think I can make you the happiest man on Earth, my dear...”

“Hm? Why do you say that?” Jonathan asked, a bit puzzled. For a moment he thought it would have to do with Robert beating himself down for not feeling ‘good enough’ for him. It was a topic that often bothered the blond despite the countless times Jonathan had assured him that was not the case, that there was no one better for him than Robert.

“How can you be the happiest man on Earth when that title is clearly mine?” Jonathan sighed in relief upon learning that he had been wrong. Both men let out a soft chuckle.

“And you were complaining that I was the big sap?”

“Not my fault, dearest. It’s rubbin’ off on me.” Another chuckle ensued and the Joestar brought his hand up, tenderly wiping the tears from Speedwagon’s face. “Besides, it’s never been a complain at all. I’ve always loved your chivalrous ways and how sweet and caring you are.” Those words managing to make the blush that was already present on Jonathan’s face to turn a tad brighter. He leaned forward, nuzzling his now fiancé.

“I love you.” He whispered into Robert’s ear.

“I love you, too.” He replied in the same manner, leaning into the touch, feeling happy and safe in the arms of the man he loved the most.

Extra Notes: I do like to think that they tend to be playful and take things lightheartedly and just poke a little friendly and loving fun at each other at times. I don’t know why, but that’s the kind of vibe I get from them, heh.

I did my research and, apparently, engagements during the Victorian Era were mostly about the business the families from both parties could benefit from and not precisely about the feelings between the future couple and, as such, everything was treated in a more, ehh, formal way? Like, with ceremonies where there were more people present (families of one or both parties, usually), and all that stuff. Naturally, I got rid of that for obvious reasons, being the fact that these two love and deserve each other the main reason why I went for this option, and also due to the fact that homosexuality was a bit of an “underground” thing, something a good deal of Victorians stood up against of, so every single piece of information focuses on male/female relationships as there were no such thing as engagements between two males or two females (not documented, at least!) so, yeah, something more cozy, private and informal seemed like the best option for the best boys.

Also, the stones hold a certain meaning. During this period, it was common to find engagement rings with many different sorts of stones on them. The reasons varied between using them for their actual meanings or to spell the persons name or the couple’s initials using the first letter of each stone to do so. In this case, I went for the latter: Rubies for Robert, Jades for Jonathan. Now, there’s also a bonus here in the Jade stones, as they are stones that were super common in the everyday life in cultures such as the Aztec culture (and we all know our big boy Jona was really into it, as we could notice by his archeology research). Rubies also have a meaning here as they symbolize passion, protection and prosperity, mainly, among many other things (such as symbolizing the Sun itself).

I’m probably missing a couple things more but it’s almost 7 am as I type this and I haven’t slept at all all night so, yeah, please excuse if that’s the case!

[onesunnyboi-blog]

colton + all ! :o

Okay!! so here is Colton!! 

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?a while - sometimes he has to go on reconnaissance patrols and sit for hours watching the enemy. however if nothing fruitful is coming of sitting about still for hours, he can get a little agitated. How easy is it for your character to laugh? not very - he’s very stoic. his features are like stone and his humour has been diminished over many years of facing war. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)ha ha ha. pretty to assume he sleeps. if out on a mission or facing a tremendous battle, he doesn’t sleep all too often and will try to count himself down into sleep from twenty. How easy is it to earn their trust?not very. he holds everyone at arms length. although, the team he is with, the other Exalts, he trusts wholeheartedly. once gained it’s not easily shaken (but can be easily lost if you betray him; he’s not one for second chances) Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?that depends; being a soldier he has to follow rules rigidly, but if he sees that it would be immoral to follow the law and so breaking a rule or two may be the better option, i don’t think he’d face any doubt and would go ahead and break them. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?there’s a scent of lavender that gives him nostalgia - it triggers memories of being young and warm and safe with his family; not that he really remembers who they are. he just sees fuzzy faces and hears ghostly whispers... but he knows those days as a child were his happiest. it’s a kind of bittersweet feeling, one he doesn’t like to be exposed to often, in fear that he’ll lose his will to face the wars. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?he can’t really remember... he’s certain his father would often tell him to “stand straight, shoulders back - you’re supposed to be a proud boy”. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?yeah, he swears - but he’s naturally a man of few words so he doesn’t swear all that often. it’s more so when he’s getting emotional/specifically angry. he doesn’t remember his first swear word, but i can guarantee that it was “you’re a left bollock, Junior.” to a fellow Exalt-in-training. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?“Everything’s going to be fine. You’re going to make it.” it haunts his every waking hour. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?he’ll kinda just crinkle up his nose and then huff. to which many tut and explain again (not common though) What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?black - simple and like his soulWhat animal do they fear most?i don’t think he’s had much contact with animals - he’s not been back to earth in years. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?he’s a natural leader and his words are chosen very meticulously - he doesn’t need to rehearse what he’s going to say, oftentimes there’s no room for that; he’s supposed to lead a team in the middle of a raging war, he can’t dillydally. What makes their stomach turn?being unable to protect rookies out in the field to give them another chance at living another day. Are they easily embarrassed?nope. What embarrasses them?literally nothing. he takes everything in his stride and it makes it very difficult to do anything to him. What is their favorite number?i don’t think he’d put much thought into this - however 20 seems to be his go-to. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?he wouldn’t. he hasn’t a clue. all he’s known is fighting. he could explain his not-so-love for that. Why do they get up in the morning? “to protect the galaxy!” which is the motto he’s begrudgingly engraved into his mind. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? i think he becomes very agitated and can say things that are very cold/mean to the people he is jealous of. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? he becomes very resentful - he envies those who get to live a life without the need to worry about when your last day is going to be. he envies those who experience peace daily because he’s out in the world bleeding and fighting for them. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? tbh, i doubt he’s thought about it - i don’t think he’s too fussed. he’s more, like, indifferent if it comes up in conversation, easily getting bored of the topic. What are their thoughts on marriage? meh, doesn’t see himself getting married. but he supposes it’s alright.. What is their preferred mode of transportation? they’re called “Hawks” - a type of small, stealth ship that can carry a small team of Exalts into a specified location. it’s a quick entry, a quite ride and the seats can be comfy. What causes them to feel dread? his inability to save othersWould they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? he can take an unpleasant truth. don’t lie to him. he’ll fight you over it. Do they usually live up to their own ideals? yes - he holds others to these ideals too and often finds himself disappointed if people don’t follow them. Who are they the most glad to have met? another Exalt called Mandy. she’s super funny, has his back constantly - they’ve both admitted that they see each other as family and that’s a level barely anyone gets to with Colton. HE WOULD DIE FOR HER. she’s also younger than he is, and so if anyone starts to show interest in her, he slides in with narrowed eyes. makes it known he will end whoever it is if they hurt her. Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? no, he’s not much of a conversationalist. he lets other people talk. Could they be considered lazy? never - he’s always doing something, whether that be brooding in the corner or going over mission plans and everything in between. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? very. he’s like atlas, bearing the world on his shoulders and if he loses a soldier, it’s his own personal fault. guilt can stay with him for months. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? very supportive - with the few words he spares. he may seem uninterested but there’s a shine in his eye at seeing his friends feel emotion other than fear/dread/anger etc. Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? he doesn’t seek it or wait for it - i don’t think he actually cares for it. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? if he likes a person/thing, he’ll just remember it. if he doesn’t like a person he’ll call them every variation of that name he can - remembering lists of numbers is easy bc he has a photographic memory so it kinda just stays in his head without the need to keep going over them. What memory do they revisit the most often? his memories are fuzzy, so i don’t think it’s a visual memory he’ll go to - but as aforementioned, the smell of lavender is something he remembers. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? very difficult for him and he’ll call people out for their flaws. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?he realises that he’s not perfect and tries to rectify his own flaws. How do they feel about children? what now? he hasn’t seen a child in years! i don’t think he’d know what to do with a child except from hold it at arms length whilst staring at it like a new discovery. tentatively but with apprehension. How badly do they want to reach their end goal? very badly - a world of peace. although he knows deep down that peace may never be achieved; there’s always someone willing to start a fight. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? he’d shrug and make vague gestures which pretty much sums up his sexuality. although i’m inclined to say he’s aro/ace or both.

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORSA) Why are you excited about this character?because he’s in space and holy shit i love space. also he’s a stoic man that i can call my son. B) What inspired you to create them?Shirokage218 C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?not really, i’d been mulling over the story but never had characters figured out, so slotting him in was easy. D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?tbh i can imagine i’ll change him about a little bit, but he is a new oc so there’s time for improvement yet. E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?i think he’d want to protect me cause i’m weak af. i would be intimidated by him initially but then would feel tremendous pain for him - he’s been through a lot. F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?excitement and sadness - excitement because he as a character to me is cool, but when i think about him actually alive in the world i’ve created, i feel shitty because sorry colton u have a hard life 8) G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?the inability to laugh. lighten up man geez H) What trait do you admire most?his braveryI) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?yeah, because space. and tbh i don’t think he’d suit anything else. J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?nope!

Thank you @defenestrata for this ask!! Hope i’ve given more insight in him!! 

[r95irth]

Here is the (late) oc presentation time ! And this week I present you Kyouji Kamino !! 

Before reading it, I want to add that Gunni gave me two new ocs (and adorable ones) so they are put in the classes now =) Here is the uploaded document that recap classes / characters : 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1acW4wZqcFobpi7CzRArJazrgfi4K1BSeiBeAp8wKAAg/edit?usp=sharing

Again if you want to send me your OC just ask. I only have two places left for 1A and 1B but I can put your OC in the class 3A so they can be the mentors ^^

Kyouji Kamino

Writer comment about his development : One of the very first that i created and barely changed since then. He is one of the few with a very sad backstory -well some has xD)

His character in five words : influenceable, emo, honest, sociable, playful.

His quirk : Kyouji awakened his quirk at the age of 4 during an accident. His parents were beginning to think he was quirkless but the boy didn’t have the time to worry about it. Kyouji’s quirk is called spectral projection, because you don’t know if it’s an astral projection or something more complicated. The fact is that his consciousness has an image he can manipulate at will and can travel through matter. Solidifying this astral body to touch anything with it requires him an enormous amount of energy so he tends to avoid that at all cost, (except for his wearing his hat) keeping physical interactions to the bare minimum. It took him years of training to be able to be seen by others and even more to be heard, while being on astral projection.

His power has a lot of downside, for example he doesn’t know how to stop the spectral projection (or is afraid to) so he never actually sleep or eat. He can get very tired but it’s a mental exhaustion when he has trouble to focus, move, speak or understand simple things. He does meditation to get better.

Sometimes his spectral projection “buzz” as he said, like old tv which couldn’t receive a signal. This is really bothersome.

Despites those, he is probably one of the most skilled of both classes when it comes to mastering his power.

Likes : cartoons, radio and music.

Dislikes : Being alone or ignored, when other people are sleeping.

His family : Kyouji lost his parents when he was 4. They were rather ordinary, both officials that met while being at work, fell in love, married and decided to have a kids. They were planning to have a second child when they died. Kyouji remembers his mother’s hair, not their color but a bit of her scent. He also remembers being carried on his dad’s back and how he used to roll his shoulders as he walked. It saddens him to know so little about them and it scares him a lot : you can disappear from the world and no one, absolutely no one remembers you, not even your own child.

Kyouji had a grandfather too, but the man died from old age. Since then Kyouji is considered as a pupil of the state, like 6 other children in the same case as him, and took the name of Kamino. A name he absolutely despises.  

Secret past : Kyouji is one of “the orphans of Kamino” a bunch of kids who lost their parents during the Kamino accident. He was buried under the rubbles of his parent’s flat and was the only one that was still alive when they extracted them. He was sent to the hospital immediately, but got into a comatose and till today he still is. He didn’t wake up. Well, not physically at least. But for him it’s quite the contrary, he felt like he never fell asleep at all! He remembers being buried and screaming for help, he remembers getting out and crying to talk to policemen and doctor where he was, but that no one could see or hear him. Only animals -especially dogs- reacted to his presence which helped him keep any sanity and not think he as just plainly dead. Even today Kyouji tries really hard not to think about this period, since it was awful. He was small, and alone, and no one could hear him, even less comfort him. He didn’t get what was happening to him and how to end it.

It took him months before understanding that he could interact a bit with the world around him, if he focused. He found out by accident, as he watched his grandfather talking to his “body” and crying. He wiped out his tears.

Happiest memory : The day he managed to be visible by other human, and especially his grandfather. The old man was so happy he gave Kyouji a hat, that the boy still wears everyday even if it asks him a lot of effort for that. It helped him train to be not only visible, heardable but also has physical grasp on things when he focus.

Saddest memory : Well all the memories related to the accident and the months he spent thinking he was some kind of ghost. He is absolutely terrified about the idea of dying or worst reverse to this state. The reason he wants to be a hero is not out of kindness, or for revenge against All might (though he does not like the hero), it’s because he wants to be famous, to access immortality thanks to fame. Knowing that if he manages to be a hero, no one will ever forget him make the possibility of dying more bearable.

Best friends : Kino Mirai is his very best friend, for strange reasons. At first Kino scared Kyouji because, well he basically said that he couldn’t see Kyouji’s future, hence that Kyouji might have none. But the more he spent time with the boy the more they became close. They don’t share a lot of interests yet they always find something to say. Plus the very protective behaviour Kino shows toward Kyouji moves him a lot.

Strangely, Lazare is also a good friend of Kyouji, again a strange friendship no one seen coming. Lazare tends to be hurt -almost dying- often, then regenerates fastly thanks to his quirk. This ability fascinated Kyouji yet made him a bit jealous (he kind of wised he, or his parents, had the same). But getting to know Lazare made him see that every ability has downsides and that you can’t be summed up by your power alone. This idea allowed them to become really good friends.

Kussan, Kubo and Ume are his other friends, since they all loved a grampa or a grandma in their lives and they can share a lot about those moments with them they hold dear.  

Other than them, he spends most of his time with Takashi and Kahei, watching them play video games, Tsubaki when he plays music or, Satoru.

Max is also a good friend he spends time with, especially when he is with Sei, Lazare and Hide. They always do ghost prank, or horror movie pranks together. Once they managed to make Mahô faints and that’s really something to be proud of !

Get along well with : Kyouji likes loud, energetic and lively people the most, so he usually tends to go see them first when he needs something, as he knows that it will be done with them. So he likes Mahô, Yuu, Riku, Riichi, Koyuki, Chiori,, Yosuke, Yume, Reika.

Doesn’t get along with : Kyouji is not hard to be friend with, but there are three persons has has trouble to get along with for personal reasons. First is Ryota, because the boy is calm, quiet and prefer to be a witness of the agitation rather than part of it It’s almost the same reason why he has trouble to stand Yule, the girl tries very hard to be part of the action, he sees that, but she is tends to step back and hides everytime it asks her too much effort and that annoys him a lot. Kyouji has enough of being a witness of action and so people who doesn’t react get on his nerves easy. For a very petty and silly reason )he is aware- Kyouji doesn’t like Goro ; the boy has a big and loving family and Kyouji is very jealous of that.  

Crush on : Kyouji might be really mature for his age (the good side of not being able to sleep) but love stories? Romance? He’s stuck at a 4 years old reaction to this. Basically he just say “yerk” and runs away every time he sees people kiss. This is not his priority at all.

Conclusion about his relationship in class : Kyouji is very mature in a lot of ways, but sometimes you can still see the childish side that he never could get rid off. He likes everyone at first, and tends to get influenced by those he likes (changing opinions and taste, not by hypocrisy but because he didn’t had one in the first place so aligning with other’s doesn’t bother him). Thanks to that he manages to be friends with almost everyone. But when he doesn’t like someone he just can’t hide his unfriendly opinion. He has no filter over this.

-Evaluation of his teacher Aizawa Shouta-

Potential as a hero : Kyouji is a bit of a tricky question, sure his power offers a lot of potential for lot of jobs, but offensively speaking? It takes a toll on his body -the real one- that i do not approve. I would rather him focusing on healing and waking up from his coma first, before trying to be a hero.

Weak points : The downside of the spectral projection are not healthy. He lacks offensive power most of the time that he manages to cover with his skills but that won’t always be enough.

Strong points : He is very powerful and skilled when it comes to use his power, and he always does his part of work, at the most of his capacity. He is a reliable ally.

Commentary : I was against his admission into UA from the begining, i only accepted him in my class so he wouldn’t be in All might’s (it would have make a bad atmosphere in the class). But he proved me his dedication and motivation. I have yet to find a reason to expulse him. It’s like having a second Midoriya, another kid who doesn’t seem to get that he will live up to 50 years with this body so he has to take care of it, and i’m not enjoying that.

[derangedknifefreak]

Chara

-Verses-

Void/file travel: Chara randomly appears in timelines/au’s other then her own to mess with them. Past: Chara when she was younger, aka, during the goat family time with Asriel. Possesing Frisk: Chara during her first genocide run. Will be written with both my muses. Non-canon: Anything else you’d like to rp, such as post pacifist or random ships, I won’t say no but I won’t consider it canon for Chara’s story.

About

Full Name: HIDDEN Nickname: Chara >     How’d they get it?: It was the first thing she thought of when she met Asriel.

Age: 14 (but if you count all the timelines she’s been through she’d be around 30 or so) >     Date of Birth: 25 may 1974 >     Zodiac: Gemini

Species: Human Gender: Trans Feminine (Aka, born male, identifies primarily but not completely as female.)

Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them Sexual Orientation: No preference

>     When did they realize this?:Their interests don’t lay in traditional sexual contact, so the gender or species of the opposing party simply don’t matter.

Current Residence: Post Genocide Undertale verse

Fight Abilities

Hand-to-Hand capability: Very quick reflexes and good at dodging, but having a teens body, her punches are virtually harmless. >     Who taught them: Reflexes came naturally but she learned how to deal with monster attacks through multiple playthroughs with various Frisks and Players.

Weapons: Chara will use whatever weapon is available to them and is light enough for them to swing effectively. She has an obvious preference for any weapon with a sharp edge and point, like knives, swords and spears. She usually picks a knife because it’s the lightest and easiest to maneuver. >     Who taught them: Self taught

Physical strength: very little Speed: very fast Planning: She knows all monsters from the original timeline so she can easily plan her attacks around this knowledge, but when she meets a new monster she tends to attack blindly until she’s figured them out. Powers: Can possess anybody. A monsters’ weaker soul doesn’t stand a chance against hers, but the soul of a young determined human could probably expel hers. Gaining LOVE makes it easier for her to possess you.

Family

The only parents Chara truly remembers having at this point are Toriel and Asgore. Before she fell into the underground she actually had a pretty normal family life, but she didn’t get along with any of her family; she simply never fit in anywhere. She was always the odd duck out and not once felt any kind of understanding from anyone. She hates humans primarily because they’re ‘stupid’ and ‘useless’. This hatred only applies to adults as she’s generally willing to give children a chance.

Chara was always a bit closer with Toriel, she appreciated goat mom’s humor and felt accepted and loved by her in ways she never felt before. Unconditionally. She loves Asgore too, but simply has a slightly more distant relationship with him. Asgore was more aware of her somewhat twisted nature, which is probably why he kept her at a slight distance.

Of course she was closest with Asriel. The two shared literally everything together. Toriel had a difficult job just getting them to eat of different plates and sleep in different beds. But despite how close they were their relationship was less then healthy. Chara would manipulate and emotionally abuse Asriel to get what she wanted. Asriel was for the most part unaware of this, but occasionally it would dawn on him that she treated him more like a pet then a brother. He never complained though; he just wanted her to love and approve of him.

Relationships

Virgin?: In the classic sense, yes. However they have been involved in sexual acts of a different nature.

First crush?: You could argue that (genocide!)Sans was their first crush; but it would only be his strength they crushed on, not him as a person. They also have a certain obsession with their frisk and the same goes for Asriel; while they were never in love She considers him hers and used to get really possessive.

Any romantic relationship?: It would be difficult for any relationship with a person this twisted to evolve into a romance, but it’s not impossible. Chara could only be romanced by a personality more dominant then her own, and that person would have to accept her ‘demonic’ nature, and to a certain degree, understand it. Chara is an emotional masochist, she won’t like being hurt physically, but she likes it if her partner can give her the feels. The more it hurts her heart, the better. 

Favorites

Favorite foods: French Snails in Garlic butter [Don’t put them in pie toriel!], Candied apples, Pure Chocolate >     Least favorite food: Pasta’s in general

Favorite colors: Red [BLOOD] >     Least favorite color: Gold

Music: Trance and the gentler styles of house music Literature: Fairy Tales Smell: Lemons Feeling: Bittersweet Season: Fall Pets: Hamster Place: Core Favorite sport: Dancing Possession this character values most: the Heart locket >     Why is it so important to them?:It contains a picture of her goat family and reminds her of the happiest time she had in her life.

Physical Characteristics

Height: 155 cm (5 feet 1 inch) Weight: 45 kg (90 pounds) Body build: Slender Eye Color: Deep brown/ red >     Glasses or contact lenses?: No

Hair Color: Light Brown >     Type of hair: Frizzy straight >     Hairstyle: Chin length, styled outwards

Complexion and skin tone: Pale / Caucasian >     Any particular blemishes?: Her lips are always cracked.

Shape of Face: apple Scent: Salty and Metallic Voice: Medium high Mannerisms: Giggly, seemingly carefree, DISTURBING Health: Physically; she’s literally a walking, rotting corpse. It doesn’t really bother her much though and she can’t exactly get sick either. Her soul (Which isn’t in her body, she’s using Frisks’) is all cracked up and eternally bleeding. Style: Simple and cute, a cross between childish and feminine. She likes sleeves that are too long. Tics: Not exactly a nervous tic, but She cannot stand still when she hears music, ever. She will dance against her own will.

Preferred Clothing

Underwear: Solid colored slips Shirts: stripped sweaters Pants: comfy shorts, leggings Skirts: short, multi-layer Jackets: loose and comfortable Shoes: anything without heels, Short boots Accessories: She doesn’t go anywhere without her locket. Formal wear: She’d purposely wear something old and torn up just to make a point. Sleeping wear: shorts and shirt Swimming wear: children’s bikini

Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes

Did they go to school?: She was home schooled both above and under ground. She’s good at exact subjects.

Native language: English >     Do they know any other languages?: No, but she carries a wing dings translation sheet around just in case. Multiverse travel taught her to.

Manner of Writing: Childish, doesn’t use difficult words and keeps her sentences short. Any Mental Illnesses?: So many, but they are undiagnosed. In short, she’s thoroughly fucked in the head. How does your Character see themselves?: “After everything I’ve done, It’s still just me. Nothing’s wrong.” How does your Character believe they are perceived by others?: They think they’re seen as nothing but a demon who only exists to torture and kill everyone around them. This believe is often accurate. How self-confident is your character?: If they don’t feel confident they will just pretend they are so it’s not noticeable. They’re a good actor. >     What makes their self-confidence waver?: Dying to minor monsters

What would embarrass your character the most?: If somebody felt sorry for them. How does your character feel about love: She doesn’t see the point of it.

How does your character show affection/love?: Play around and threatening them longer before brutally murdering them. She may even make you a flower crown. Before forcing you to eat it. Probably. How does your character handle grief?: In short, she doesn’t. She just pretends it’s not there at all. >     What are they like when they cry?: Quietly sobbing while hidden away OR grinning madly while tears stream down when their face with the FEELS. >     What can make them cry?: Being reminded of Asriel’s betrayal or in those rare moments when the fact everybody hates their existence actually gets to them.

How does your character handle physical pain?: She gets mad and makes sure to pay it back triple. >     Emotional pain?: She gets high on it.

Leader or follower?: Follower/ loner ‘big picture’ or ‘little details’?: Big picture Energy level: She’s quite energetic. Describe their sense of humor:  Dry and dark. Very dark. She finds screams of agony especially funny. Hobbies: Playing games and dancing. Talents: Seeing through people, dancing. >     She dances a fast style of contemporary dance.

Extremely unskilled at: Socializing.

Emotional Characteristics

How does character relate to others?: She seem them primarily as tools or sources of entertainment. How does the character deal with anger?: Fight. >     With sadness/ loss?: Smile >     With conflict?: Kill >     With change?: Curiosity

What does your character want out of life?: To be entertained What would your character like to change in his/her life?: Generally they’d answer this question with ‘nothing’ or ‘what would be the point, this world will end regardless’. But occasionally they’ll long for the time they were happy with their family, and wish Asriel had used his powers to get the 6 souls and execute their plan. What frightens your character?: Little white dogs >     Are they afraid of the Dark?: No, they embrace it. >     Death?: No, they’re technically  already dead.

Is your character judgmental of others?: She’s quick to gather what to expect of the opposing party but her deductions are usually accurate so you can’t really call it being judgmental. She’s kind of judgmental of naive people though. Is your character generous or stingy?: Neither, she doesn’t really deal with money. Is your character generally polite or rude?: Rude. Optimistic or Pessimistic?: Pessimistic. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert/ behaves like extrovert. Daredevil or Cautious?: Daredevil, no need to be cautious when you’re already dead. Logical or Emotional?: Both Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Messy Would they rather be working or relaxing?: They like to be active. How do they feel about animals?: Pets are pretty cute, she secretly has a weakness for fluffy things. They are most at ease when: Listening to music and dancing alone. >     Ill at ease when: having to behave for some reason in a crowded place; too many people judging her at once.

What is their best quality?: Good dancer. What is their biggest flaw?: Everything else.

Some History

Chara didn’t go through any sort of trauma aside from those caused by her own abnormal personality even as a child. During her childhood she never expressed her inner demons the way she does now. She was actually a pretty sweet child before Frisk showed her it was ok for her to be evil, to be themselves, through doing a genocide run. Since then she has seen, and caused many more broken timelines.

Breaking and recreating the timeline over and over again has caused her soul to crack. Pieces have broken away over time, leaving her with less and less of her ‘good’ self. If she continues the way she has, eventually, she truly will be nothing but the demon called LOVE.

Blank Character profile by Jadeookami@Deviantart