#and HEARTBREAK and DESPAIR and HOPE and stuff

[corpsentry]

lofpapte. lifepate. life update

taikopilled or whatever the kids say these days. hitting drum all the time. desperately in love, or whatever the kids say these days. consumed with emotion. bursting at the seams with language. almost through to the end of the semester and look at these cool earrings i made will you do you like cool things do you want some earrings

[neodiekido]

i need to draw something for shuichis birthday after i finish my hw but im rewatching trial 6 and getting really emotional about it

[yuutaok]

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Spring Leaves, But I Never Will

Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

In the eerie mountain forest, you seek to find what is missing. Lost and disoriented, you encounter a mysterious boy with eyes like the dead, his presence is captivating. With a gentle hand, he beckons you, and you follow.

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Word Count: ~4.4K

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), P in V, AFAB! Reader, prone bone, unprotected sex, creampies, posessiveness, supernatural/paranormal stuff happens, open-ended ending, Reader is lost in a forest and meets Yuuta, Yuuta is a freak

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Author's note: Hiii I am back with a vengeance. Belated birthday fic for Yuuta ♡ Life exploded me so I never got the chance to finish until now. Also, I would like to thank Sen (@/ banjjakz) for inspiring some of the horror aspects of this <3 They have such a lovely way of writing such mysterious horror that I deeply wanted to try my hand at, so please go read their Yuuta fics bc they are sooooo delicious ok I'll stop swooning now byeeeeee

Lost amidst the dense, foreboding forests of the mountains, you trudged forward, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the winding trail. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of recent events, the memory of your painful breakup still fresh in your mind. It had only been a couple of days, of course your heart would still hurt and your hands would still shake. And still, the need to escape, to clear your head and find solace amidst the solitude of nature, had driven you to embark on this day-hike alone.

The townsfolk often whispered about this mountain as a haunt for the heartbroken.

And so, here you were.

The hike was pleasant. You took the time to leisurely look at every interesting formed rock or beautiful sprouting flower that you had stumbled upon. Spring had just begun and it felt nice to be in the calm serenity of nature. You took care to not stray too far from the beaten path but still found your way crunching through the trees to look at specimens that caught your eye. It was a great way to get your mind off of things, to forget about life for just a moment.

But now, as the sky darkened and the woods grew eerily silent around you, regret gnawed at the edges of your resolve. Perhaps venturing into the wilderness alone had been a mistake, a reckless act born of heartache. Panic tightened its grip on your chest as you realized that dusk was fast approaching, and you had yet to find your way back to civilization.

With each step you took through the dense undergrowth of the forest, the sense of urgency weighed heavy on your shoulders. Nervously, you glanced at the sky, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, casting long shadows that danced ominously through the trees. Hope flickered like a dying flame within you, faltering as the daylight waned faster than anticipated.

Your mind wandered to the rumors that had long circulated about the mountain, tales of heartbroken souls seeking solace among the towering trees, only to vanish without a trace.

It was said that the forest held secrets whispered confessions etched into the bark of the old oak trees, and love letters left behind by those who had come seeking solace from their pain. But these were not ordinary declarations of affection; they were haunting, twisted reflections of despair, each word filled with grief, obsession, and heartbreak. You have heard people say that love is the worst curse of all.

Some claimed to have heard mournful voices echoing through the woods, the ghostly whispers of lovers calling out into the darkness, their cries fading into gusts of wind and rustling leaves. Others spoke of strange symbols carved into the earth, cryptic messages left behind by those who had succumbed to the forest's embrace.

You still had decided to come, despite the unsubstantiated rumors that were whispered by the old grannies in the surrounding town. You’d be damned if you suffocated under the weight of your heartache. But as you delved deeper and deeper into the forest, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched— honestly, maybe the old ladies knew something you didn’t.

Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to consume you whole. Desperate, you called out into the silent woods, your voice echoing into the vast expanse of darkness that surrounded you, “Hello…? Is anybody out there? Can anyone hear me?”

But the only response was the feeling of eyes on the back of your head and the haunting whisper of the wind through the branches, carrying with it a sense of desolation that chilled you to the bone.

With each passing moment, the forest seemed to close in around you, its shadows stretching like grasping fingers eager to ensnare their prey. You were never quite fond of the dark.

Heart pounding, you broke into a run, stumbling through the underbrush in a frantic search for anything familiar. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs beneath your feet sent a jolt of fear coursing through your veins, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you raced against the encroaching darkness.

And then, just as panic threatened to consume you whole, you burst through a thicket of bushes, only to collide with an unexpected figure standing in your path. The air left your lungs as you fell flat on your ass.

You looked up at what, or who, you had just crashed head-on into.

It was a boy, his dark eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as he regarded you with an enigmatic smile, despite you just pummeling into him with your full force. The shock of the encounter left you speechless, frozen in place as the realization dawned that you were not alone in the woods after all.

You made eye contact with the stranger, and a chill swept through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. His dark hair fell in tousled waves, framing his pale face in an unsettling contrast. His tired eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. A curtain of bangs parted across his forehead, framing his features in a shadowy veil. His lips twisted into a smile and held a hint of something that lurked just beneath the surface.

There was an undeniable aura of unease that surrounded the boy, a sense of foreboding that lingered in the air like a haunting melody. As he extended a hand towards you, offering salvation in the darkness, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeply unsettling about him.

"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice low and soothing. "It's dangerous to be out here alone at night. I can lead you to safety."

You looked up at the stranger incredulously, as if you would be dumb enough to follow a stranger you met out in the woods!

Sending your apprehension, the raven-haired boy smiles kindly, “I promise, I don’t bite. Please, it’s getting late and I don’t think I could live with myself if I left you out here by yourself.”

Weighing out your options, you realized that maybe this was your best choice. It’s either that or freezing out in the woods, or better yet being eaten by some wild animal that you hardly can find yourself against.

You looked around, dazed. With darkness closing in around you and no other options in sight, you accepted his offer.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But please don’t try anything, I’ve been told I have a killer right hook.”

He looks at you, obviously amused, “Of course, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

And begrudgingly you had to admit, despite everything in your body screaming for you to keep running, you felt completely and utterly relieved to see him.

As you followed the raven-haired boy deeper into the woods, the sense of unease only intensified, wrapping around you like a suffocating cloak. "Where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly with apprehension.

His dark eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as he turned to face you, his expression guarded yet strangely calm. "To my cabin," he replied, his voice low and steady. "It's not far from here. You'll be safe there for the night. You can rest for as long as you need to."

Though his words offered reassurance, there was a lingering doubt in the back of your mind. You had heard stories of people disappearing in these woods, never to be seen again, and the thought sent a chill down your spine.

There was something about the dark-haired man that unsettled you, something that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath his calm exterior. And even so, something about him drew you in, made you feel so immediately safe with him.

"Who are you?" you pressed, your voice wavering with a mix of fear and curiosity. "And why were you out here alone?"

Yuuta hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "My name is Yuuta Okkotsu," he said finally, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I live in the woods, away from civilization. As for why I was out here...let's just say I have my reasons."

His cryptic response only fueled your apprehension, but as the darkness closed in around you and the sound of rustling leaves filled the air, you realized that you had little choice but to trust him, at least for now. With a nod of reluctant acceptance, you followed Yuuta deeper into the woods, praying that you had not just made a grave mistake.

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

His cabin appeared suddenly, a rustic structure nestled amidst the towering trees, its windows glowing with the warm light of a fire within.

"I don't usually invite strangers into my home," Yuuta admitted, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. "But I can't leave you out here alone. You're welcome to stay until morning." Though grateful for his offer of shelter, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud.

There was something about Yuuta's demeanor, a subtle intensity in his gaze, that sent shivers down your spine.

You stepped into Yuuta's cabin, grateful for the warmth and shelter it offered. The cozy interior enveloped you in a comforting embrace, dispelling some of the tension that had gripped you since your encounter in the woods. It was humorous actually, how warm the cabin felt in comparison to the uneasiness its owner gave you.

“Home sweet home,” Yuuta said as he took your coat and nodded his head for you to follow him.

Yuuta wasted no time in playing the role of a gracious host, offering you a change of clothes and access to his shower. His bathroom was neat, he didn’t have much, just the basics, but it was still appreciated nonetheless.

As the hot water washed away the dirt and grime of the forest, you felt a sense of relaxation seeping into your bones, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves.

Emerging from the shower feeling refreshed and revitalized. You found Yuuta busy in the kitchen, a delicious aroma of spices and savory delights wafting through the air.

As you peered over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the bubbling pot on the stove, filled with rich, fragrant curry. The sight stirred memories of comforting meals shared with loved ones, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "That smells amazing," you murmured, your mouth watering at the thought of indulging in the hearty dish.

Yuuta glanced up from his cooking, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's just a simple curry," he said modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "But I find that simple comforts are often the most satisfying."

You offered to help, eager to contribute to the meal in some way, but Yuuta shook his head gently. "No need to trouble yourself," he insisted, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to take a seat at the table. "Relax and settle down. I'll take care of everything."

Though you hesitated for a moment, the warmth of Yuuta's demeanor and the promise of a delicious meal were too enticing to resist. With a grateful smile, you sank into a chair, content to watch as Yuuta worked his culinary magic, the comforting rhythm of his movements lulling you into a sense of peace and contentment.

As you settled into Yuuta's cabin, you couldn't help but take in your surroundings with a sense of curiosity. The interior was simple yet cozy, with polished wooden floors that creaked softly underfoot and walls adorned with faded photographs and intricate tapestries.

The cabin had a rustic charm to it, its bare furnishings lending an air of simplicity to the space. Yet, despite its minimalistic design, everything seemed meticulously arranged, each item in its rightful place. There was a sense of order and precision that spoke to Yuuta's meticulous nature, a trait that you found oddly comforting.

On the shelves lining the walls, you noticed an eclectic array of books, their well-worn spines bearing the marks of countless readings. From classic literature to obscure texts on folklore and mysticism, the collection spoke of a curious mind.

Nearby, a shelf displayed a collection of handmade erasers, their vibrant colors and whimsical shapes. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of these charming little creatures. There was a sense of warmth and homeliness to Yuuta's cabin that made you feel strangely at ease. It was as if the space itself radiated a sense of comfort and belonging, welcoming you with open arms into its cozy embrace.

Before you knew it, the food was done and Yuuta served you a steaming plate.

“Thank you for the meal,” you said, nervous.

“It’s my pleasure,” Yuuta replied.

With the two of you sitting down to eat, you found yourself opening up to Yuuta in a way you hadn't expected. You told him about your recent breakup, the pain and heartache that had driven you to seek solace in the wilderness.

Yuuta listened attentively, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that surprised you. "It's dangerous to be out in the woods alone," he said softly, his voice tinged with a note of concern. "Who knows what evils could be lurking in the darkness? I'm glad I found you when I did." A chill ran down your spine.

Though he had shown you nothing but kindness, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of anxiety that crept up around Yuuta's presence. He was good company, however, and you worked hard to ignore the way your hands clammed up and each hair on your skin stood up when he leaned in closer to speak with you. You chalked it up to your nerves.

The two of you continued to converse, him asking you more about your life and you asking about his. As Yuuta shared snippets of his past, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't quite explain. There was a sort of charm to him, an undeniable allure. Despite the lingering doubts that were dancing in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the attraction you had towards him. You felt like a moth catching fire as it approached an open flame.

With a sigh, Yuuta leaned back against the cushions, his gaze drifting to the dancing flames of his fireplace as if lost in thought. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, melodic murmur that sends shivers down your spine, "I wasn't always a hermit living in the woods." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sorrow.

"What happened?" you ventured softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, to not disturb the mood.

Yuuta's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of sadness lurking in the depths of his dark eyes. "I used to live in the city, surrounded by noise and chaos," he admitted, his words tinged with bitterness. "But... I lost someone very dear to me." His voice trailed off, grief etched into the lines of his face.

"She was my childhood sweetheart," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as if speaking the words aloud pains him. "We were inseparable, bound together by pure, untainted, love.”

A heavy silence fell between you, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. "She was taken from me," Yuuta murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "And I... I couldn't bear to stay in that world any longer."

As he spoke, you sensed the weight of his sorrow pressing down on him, a burden too heavy for one mere person to bear alone. "I tried to move on, to forget her and the pain of losing her," Yuuta admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But no matter how hard I tried, I could never escape the memories of our time together."

“So I left," he confessed, "I left everything behind and retreated into the solitude of the forest, hoping to find something to fill the hole in my heart.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his sorrow, and you could not help but feel a surge of empathy for the man before you. At that moment, you realize that Yuuta and you are not so different after all, both haunted by heartbreak, seeking solace in the expanse of trees. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your desires, a longing for connection and understanding.

But even as your heart yearned to unravel the secrets hidden within Yuuta’s dark and mangled heart, a sense of unease lingered at the edges of your consciousness. There was still something unsettling about the way the shadows seemed to dance around him, as if alive with an energy of their own. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on…

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

As the night stretched on, the air thick with a palpable tension, you felt a strange sense of drowsiness wash over you. Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion as you let out a quiet yawn.

With a soft smile, Yuuta reached out to you. His was touch gentle, yet firm, possessive even. You felt yourself lean into his touch as if he weaved an invisible spell around you.

"You look tired," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to echo with the whispers of the forest itself. "Come with me, let me take care of you."

His words washed over you like a warm embrace, dispelling the last glimmers of doubt and fear as you allow yourself to be guided by his steady hand. With a silent nod, you allowed Yuuta to lead you to the bedroom, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a protective shield as you sank into the soft embrace of the bed.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls like dancing spirits. He leaned over you, his body flush against yours, his hand steady and reassuring against your skin.

As you lay there, the haze of drowsiness clouding your senses, you felt Yuuta begin to pull away. You grasped at the hem of his shirt, silently begging him not to go.

His features were veiled by the shroud of night, his smile, though unseen, seemed to materialize in the darkness. With a gentle pull, you drew him down to lay beside you.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yuuta's voice, a soft murmur, caressed your ear as his head nestled against your shoulder.

"Yes," you found yourself pleading, the words slipping from your lips in a whispered plea. "Don't leave."

Yuuta's lips brushed gently against your neck, his touch tender yet possessive. "I won’t,” he murmured, “I won’t ever leave,” his voice a velvet whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,”

In your sleepy state, you found yourself melting into his touch. Yuuta's kisses trailed a path of fire along your skin. Each kiss was a feather-light caress that seeped into each layer of your skin, burning you from the inside out.

Slowly, he moved up your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin with adoration.

As Yuuta's lips found their way to your jaw, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, lost in the dizzying whirlwind that you now understood as Yuuta Okkotsu.

His movements were calm and deliberate, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explored every curve and contour of your body with dedicated devotion. Each touch left you yearning for more. You would die if it meant you could feel this loved forever.

Soon enough, Yuuta’s lips found yours, his kisses both tender and possessive, his passion evident in the way he claimed your lips.

As his lips danced with yours, you found yourself with the thought of never being apart from him. It filled you with a sense of completion. You could feel the depth of his devotion. Could he feel yours?

As if to answer your question, Yuuta’s touch became more urgent, his hands roaming over your body with a ravenous hunger. You felt happy that you could be consumed so ardently, that you found yourself secretly hoping that you at least tasted good.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you realized Yuuta was removing your borrowed clothes bit by bit. He made sure you were left in your panties.

His strong hands moved to caress your bare skin, his fingers leaving imprints on your body. Yuuta’s nails and grip dug into your skin as he kissed you. His hands moved to explore every curve and contour of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You wondered if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

You leaned up to deepen the kiss, which only furthered Yuuta’s excitement. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his touch seeming eager, desperate, or perhaps so incredibly lonely, even.

Yuuta’s wet kisses left you dizzy, your senses were overwhelmed by him. Noticing the strain between his legs, you reached your hands down to unbutton his pants & paw at his boxers. Yuuta obliged by tossing them off to the side with your lost articles of clothing.

You moved to guide his hips to meet yours. With him between your legs, you moved to grind against him. You both gasped as his hard member pressed against your soaked panties.

You look up to see his reaction but notice something in Yuuta’s eyes become dark. His grip on your hips became tighter as his nails dug crescents into your soft skin.

Yuuta took this moment to grind himself deeper into you, his cock sliding between the lips of your pussy soaked panties. You let out a wanton moan, grinding back against him, desperate for any form of friction or release. You felt his cock rub against your swollen clit, moving back and forth in a way that left you crying out for more.

As Yuuta continued to tease you, he paused for a moment, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice, "Do you want this?”

You shivered, a chill running down your spine.

With a hitched breath, you nodded.

“Will you be mine?" He asked, his eyes peering deep and dark into your own. You felt like he could see right into you like he was clawing his way into your soul to make a home in it.

You were okay with that.

You nodded again, “Yes, I’ll always be yours.”

With a glassy darkness in his eyes, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his movements rough and commanding as he positioned himself behind you. He tsk’ed as he ripped your ruined panties off, throwing off into the darkness of the room.

Well, you didn’t need those, anyway.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll make it so you can’t ever think to leave,” sending shivers down your spine.

Yuuta trailed hot kisses along your skin as he positioned himself above you. With a low moan, he pressed himself against you, the throbbing hardness of his member seeking entrance to your dripping heat.

And then, with a thrust, he entered you. Yuuta’s hands gripped your ass as he slowly sunk his hard length into your wet core. You sucked in a breath, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as he filled your pussy completely. He was big. So much bigger than you anticipated.

‘We fit together perfectly’, you thought to yourself.

His pace was slow, with him getting used to the tightness of your cunt. You looked up at him with adoration as he leaned over your shoulder to give you a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. A trail of saliva left between your lips when you parted.

Yuuta’s spent no extra moment finding his stride, his movements becoming rough and unyielding as he fucks you with such devoted reverence. You’re helpless. All you could do was beg for more as you gulped in the air.

It’s obscene, the way he makes you moan. You’re powerless to fight against the way he makes your heart skip and your stomach churn. You feel on fire like he’s burning you to a crisp of ash and dust only to resurrect you again if only to just keep fucking you.

Yuuta’s movements become more urgent and the tension between you reaches its peak. With each thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by Yuuta.

Suddenly, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. With a cry, you shatter into a million pieces, the only thing able to leave your mouth is the chant of, “Yuuta-- Ah, Yuuta, Yuuta.”

“I’m here,” he replies, voice strained feeling your pussy tighten around his cock, “I’m right here.” Feeling the wetness and tightness of your cum triggers Yuuta’s climax, and with a stifled moan, he follows suit, pouring his hot cum into you.

Yuuta pulls you into his arms, his leaky cock still hard inside of you. Your dark-haired lover kisses your temple and leaves sweet whispers across the sweat of your skin. He holds you close, entwining you into him as your eyelids get heavy and you feel sleep take over your spent body.

You feel loved.

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

In your dreams, you find yourself lost in a labyrinth of shadows, the air thick with the scent of decay. Whispers echo through the darkness, taunting you with half-formed promises and cryptic warnings.

You stumble through the endless maze, searching for an escape, but the shadows seem to shift and twist, leading you further into the depths of your despair.

And then, just when you think you can bear it no longer, you see him. Yuuta stands before you, his dark eyes looking into yours as he reaches out to you with a hand shrouded in darkness.

He whispers something, you don’t understand. But you still reach out, taking his hand into yours.

You awaken with a start, the echoes of your nightmare still lingering in the recesses of your mind.

Heart pounding, you sit up in bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Yuuta is gone, but his warmth remains.

A sense of foreboding settles over you like a shroud.

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 3

Full Request - Part 2

Part 2 << PART3 >> Part 4

AN: I’m so sorry this is so late! I’ve been so busy with life and then I was so tired I kinda lost the motivation to write but I’m back now!!! Also, sorry this is so short, it's kind of a filler before all the big stuff happens!

Side note: I’m so proud of the way I choose to show their messaging systems - will continue in ending note - 

Summary: Forced apart, you and Poseidon try to find ways to communicate.  

Word count: 2,604

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

After you were thrown from Olympus and forbidden to even be near your love, it stormed for two weeks straight. With every day of the storm, more houses were destroyed, more people hurt, with no sign of an end. The people trekked to Poseidon’s temples every day with offerings, they prayed until their voices were hoarse, but the rain didn’t cease. The people believed he had given up on them, that they had done something to anger him. They didn’t know the utter heartbreak that coursed with the ichor in his veins. They didn’t know that this was the true despair of a god, that it could destroy them all. 

You had been taken back to Asgard and cared for like you were newly-made, the Aesir tip-toeing around you and hoping not to set off any catastrophes. You had become numb since you had been brought home, moving around the halls of Valhalla like a lost spirit. Odin and Frigg tried so hard to bring you back, to do something that would return you to yourself, but it was all in vain. The only thing that you could possibly want was him. 

Every day you walked the fjords, standing right on the edge of a cliff, the breeze pressing on your back, hoping to push you off. You had roamed every inch of the fjords, combed every cliffedge. You waited for Pegasus to find you, to whisk you away to your love, but the winged stallion never came. You hoped for a sign, any sign that both of you weren’t lost to each other, but nothing came.

And then, when you were beginning to lose all hope, you looked down over the edge of the cliff, straight down and into the swirling waters that frothed and smashed against the sharp rocks. There was no pegasus, but a huge clump of seaweed. You had never seen the seaweed come up near the fjords before in your whole existence, not this much anyway. It was always deep under the water, or only a few specks of it floated up and washed ashore. But there was so much of it floating near the edge that it created an island on the water. 

Your heart stopped in your chest as you watched it float to the cliff wall and bump against it. Again and again it floated into the cliff, as if waiting for something before it would allow itself to disperse. You clenched your hands together, breath suddenly shallow, then took a run and jumped off the cliff. 

The water was icy, and your skin began to tingle as the bubbles floated up around you and to the surface. You waited until they had all disappeared then allowed yourself to push to the surface as well, treading water and staring up at the sky for a moment. It had been so long since you had gone swimming, since you had enjoyed the sea as you once had, and it felt immeasurably good to be immersed in it once more. You smiled, wider and brighter than you had ever done since being back from Olympus. You allowed yourself to drop into the water again and again, ceasing the swirling of your arms and legs to just float in it. It felt like a hug from Poseidon. Then you swam over to the island of kelp and began sifting through it. 

Carefully pulling each piece away and gathering it into your other hand. If it truly was a message from him you wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. It was slippery and a little slimy but you just held on tighter as you straightened out each piece and lay it in your other hand. Right in the centre of the bundle, you found five oyster shells. They were placed in a perfectly straight row in the perfect centre of the kelp and they were… perfect. You had never seen an oyster like that, perfectly black on the outside like a mussel but still rippled so you knew it was an oyster. You reached out and gently picked one up. Your hands shook and tears filled your eyes until the oyster became blurry. You wiped at them haphazardly, blinking until you could see again and the tears had mixed into the seawater. 

The oyster was just barely open, a thin crack that you tried to peek through, but you couldn’t see anything inside. You dug your nails into the opening and used whatever godly strength you possess to pry it open just enough without breaking it fully. It was a rather delicate task and you had to stop a few times for fear of cracking the shell, but when you got it open you found a beautiful pearl sitting in the centre. It wasn’t perfectly round (as you found that natural pearls rarely were) and was actually rather flat with its edges poking out here and there so it looked like a splash of water in pearl form. You picked it out of the shell, the oyster within not giving any resistance, and you held it in your palm. It seemed smooth, and glinted different colours in the grey light. You flipped it over, and you found that there were little scratches on the pearl. They were much too small for you to decipher at first, but as you brought it closer to your eye and realised that it was writing, your heart began to thunder. ‘To have and to hold’ was all it said. You stared at it, heart in your throat, and gently placed it back in the oyster, shutting it and resting it on its bed. The next was the same, except this pearl was smoother around the edges, almost like a flat oval. ‘For better or worse’ it said in the same small writing. The one after it was almost perfectly round but also flat and thin like a drachma. ‘For richer or for poorer’. The next pearl was sharp, its edges jagged and spiking out. ‘Until death do us part’. You caressed it, allowing the sharpest edge to cut into your skin and the bead of blood to stain the pearl. You whispered each word aloud as you opened the pearls, hoping that since you were in the water that he could hear it, that he would know. The final pearl was a perfect sphere and as large as the first segment of your pinky finger. The writing was inscribed around it, and you spun it over and over, reading the words until they were screaming inside your head, until you couldn’t read them anymore because your eyes were streaming with tears and you were sobbing so heavily that water splashed up and into your mouth. ‘I love you’ it read, inscribed over and over around the pearl so that it looked like it was scratched all over. 

You floated there for a moment, staring at the vows, at the pearls, then let yourself sink under the water, eyes closed. You screamed the words into the water, bubbles floating around your face, voice garbled, but you screamed until you had no air left and even your body began to tire. You wanted him to hear you, needed him to know. Then you surfaced, breathing heavily and feeling lighter than you had before coming to the cliffs. You looked at each pearl again, caressed them, then gently placed them back into their shells. You wrapped the shells up in the seaweed, creating a tight parcel and tying it up with the seaweed you had stripped away before. You stayed in the water a while longer, feeling the caress of it on your skin, pretending it was his arms wrapping around you, his fingers running up and down your arms. Then, when it became close to the time of the nightly feast and knowing the others would begin to worry if you did not show up, you grabbed the parcel and made your way back to your new home, a small house built at the bottom of the hills that led to the cliff edges. 

It was more of a hut, built in the viking style and furnished sparsely. You had lost all your taste for glamour in the last weeks, lost the feeling of being a goddess, and had conjured this place, quiet and secluded and right by the cliffs you had once enjoyed. You left the pile of seaweed in the hall of the house by the entrance, thinking of ways to decorate your house with it. You placed the shells in order on a shelf just above your bed. You didn’t want the pearls themselves to be exposed, just in case someone came snooping. You looked at them longingly and kissed each shell before making the journey back to Valhalla. You had to find a way to send a message in return. You had to. 

Poseidon sat on the beach he had once brought you to. He stared out at the water’s edge, watching a happy couple walk along it, a woman in a beautiful dress kicking up splashes of water and the man staring down at her with such devotion in his eyes. He watched them press close to each other, walk further into the water, let it roll over them. He watched them kiss, felt it on his own lips, then a wave crashed over the shadows and they disappeared into seafoam and the sparkle of sunlight on the water. 

Poseidon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing heavily and shaking his head as he muttered angrily to himself. Though he had been forced to stop the storms lest he flood all of Greece, the one in his head never ceased. You were his every thought, consuming him from the inside. He had gone to the lake on Olympus everyday for the week he had been forced to stay there after your banishment. Zeus has wanted all the gods together to feast and be merry for the return of his bolt. Poseidon had not spoken a word the entire time, glaring at his brother with such fire that even Hephaestus could not conjure a flame with such heat. The rest of the time was either spent watching Hermes, trying to figure out if all of this was really his doing, or making the trek to the lake to sit on one of the boulders, feet dipped into the water, and reminiscing on the time he had with you. 

Even since had returned to his domain, nothing felt right. The usually comforting embrace of the water now felt hollow. The feeling of the sand under his feet did not mean anything now that he couldn’t share it with you. He no longer felt like the god of the seas, just a god of… nothing. Everywhere he looked he saw something that reminded him of you. He could not escape your memory even if he were trying. Even now, sitting on the beach where you had first kissed, he could only hope you had received his pearls, his vows of marriage. 

A butterfly, blue and shiny, fluttered into view. He watched it flap its wings and fly in little twirls, as if looking for something. Then it began to flutter closer, circling its way to him.  He watched the little creature with a sad smile, wishing you were here to see it. He knew you would love it. But the butterfly kept coming closer, flittering and fluttering until it sat itself on the tip of his nose. His eyes crossed as he tried to stare at it, eyebrows knitting in a frown, as the insect flapped its wings once, twice, then laid them out flat and stopped moving entirely. Without the strength of its little legs gripping to his nose, the butterfly fell away and into his lap, laying on his thigh as still and dead as he felt. His frown deepened, staring at the creature with its legs poking up into the air and wings perfectly flat. 

The structure and pattern suggested it was a monarch butterfly, but they didn’t come in blue. It was old, at least for its species, around 6 weeks if he were to guess, right at the end of its life. With the gentlest movements, he dug his fingertips under the wings of the dead butterfly and lifted it closer to his eyes. He flipped it over and examined the backs of its wings, the beautiful blue that somehow shined even brighter now that it was dead. He stared at the black lines that swirled over the wings, creating little pockets of blue and edged with dots of white. It was in the black lines that he found writing, in the smallest letters possible. Where the lines swirled and made pockets, letters followed them. And there, on the wings of this butterfly that seemed to randomly appear on this beach and randomly choose to land on him, he found his wedding vows. Each one he had sent, returned in the beautiful writing of a goddess. And right at the bottom, in the biggest letters, ‘I love you’. He could almost hear your voice, a whisper in the wind, and he closed his eyes lest the tears fall. 

Years passed without a word from neither him nor you. You had settled into your life with the Aesir again, comforted by the pearls that sat above your bed. You opened the shells every night and gazed at them, whispering the words and hoping that somewhere in the sea he felt your love. He too returned to his palace underwater, the butterfly encased in clear ice to be frozen as long as he lived, a reminder that you had said yes, that you had married him. Both of you felt safer knowing he was yours and you were his. It was not a traditional wedding by any means, but it was yours, and you would cherish it until the end of your days. 

After the first three decades of peace and no sign of anyone knowing that you had sent messages to each other, you sent one more, another butterfly with a simple reminder that you loved him. In return you received a conch shell, not too large but still a hefty weight in your palm. When you lifted it to your ear, in the whisper of the ocean you could hear his voice, telling you he loved you. Every night you put it to your ear and let it lull you to sleep. 

So many years passed in this way, changes coming and going, empires rising and falling. Suddenly the modem age arrived, bringing its technology and skyscrapers and all of you gods into each other’s vicinity once more. Now the Greek gods were huddled in New York, living lavishly atop the Empire State building while the halls of the Aesir occupied Boston, hiding in plain sight. The battles continued, the monsters still roared, but things had become slow, the gods became lazy. While you kept your cabin in the fjords, your connection to Poseidon and your homeland, you were forced to spend much of your time in Boston to keep yourself alive, to keep your facade with the other gods. 

The clashes between the worlds of the Greek and the Norse became more frequent, though all the gods kept their promise of staying away from each other. It was not until the battle of the Draugur that this promise was broken. That after millennia you were face to face with your love once more…

A/N: I chose things from the sea as his messaging system because obvi he’s the god of the sea. But I chose butterflies for Y/n because I see her character in so many ways that I feel the butterfly embodies. I was thinking of the butterfly effect (a butterfly flaps its wings in one place and a storm starts in another) and that’s literally Y/n because she’s this small thing who’s seen as gentle and underestimated but she causes all these big things simply by existing. And then butterflies are seen as small and gentle and colourful but there’s literally a species of butterfly that drinks the tears of turtles and that felt so accurate to her character because she’s seen as small and pretty and colourful (and she is) but she can also be vicious and violent for survival. Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk. 

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Fool, you think I can't handle such dark ideas?

I live for this kinda stuff!

imagine Reader was used as a tracking device to find Genosha without them realizing it- imagine if Reader survived and found out before anyone else and just-

Stared into nothing, their poor robotic brain racing with too many thoughts to properly function

And like- when they're found imagine they just slowly reached up, and without a second thought, began tearing themself apart

They caused so many of their friends to die without realizing it, they're horrible, they're a monster

Those are thoughts that ran through their mind as they tore off their own head

Cube Anon

Oooooo... I see you like where the darkness is taking us...

Reader rips themself apart slowly, unable to cope with the fears and despair and unending unrelenting pain that drenched their core, that smothers each breath, each thought.

Friends of their's were gone.

Gambit was gone.

Leech was gone.

Magneto was gone.

Genosha was gone.

And it was... Reader's fault...

Hearing their friends find our, hearing their anger, their pain, their hate...

Reader couldn't live with it.

They don't go with them to find Trask. They can't. Their friends hate them, and all they want is for Reader to leave tbem alone, to go away, to not come back or cause more damage.

So here Reader is, at the edge of a cold, freezing lake, in the middle of the night, alone, about to plunge in.

They tore open their arms, their legs, exposes the wires in their neck, their stomach, tore their core out and ripped their false hair off and tore at their eyes, breaking them to pieces.

They hated themself.

They couldn't live like this.

They couldn't exist this way, knowing they were the reason everything was bad and their friends were dead and the surviving ones hated them.

So with that final, heartbreaking thought-

They plunge in, screaming as the water burns their system, and their being, into nothingness...

***************************************************

For the X-Men, fighting Bastion amd Sinsiter had been brutal.

It was filled with pain, despair, blood...

What was worse?

Knowing their old friend, Reader, was dead now?

Or knowing that they were innocent, save for the fact Bastion had uses them, created them to be a scapegoat, and would have killed Reader before they'd met the X-Men for being too human for his tastes?

They don't know.

And it burns.

Kurt hadn't turned his back on them. He kept checking the one gift, the one piece, he had left of them, a small wire butterfly, beaded and bright and colorful, just like him, they'd told him. He hated not knowing if they were gone, forever, or if they were possibly in Heaven... He wasn't sure he wanted to know...

The team had decided to build a new safehaven, somehwere safer and more hidden, a place that only allowed mutants and trusted humans into its paradise... It was an island, one that seemed... almost sentient... at times... But it hosted many wonders, good plant life, beautiful animals, clean water, and it opened itself to them, to their kind... It was easy to shut themselves, their new home, everyone and everything, off from the rest of the world. It seemed the only reasonable, the only sane thing, to do, after all they lost and sacrificed amd had destroyed.

And when they discovered pools that could create bodies...

And found out that they could try to enter the spirit realm to bring back those they'd lost...

It was only a matter of time before they started bringing back those who had died unfairly, to give then healthy bodies and a better life and new hope...

All anyone asked, was that they drink of a special liquid and eat its fruit, for then they would know peace...

And it seems the next two they needed to find, the last two, were Gambit and Reader...

***************************************************

(Meanwhile, in the afterlife, Gambit hasn't left Reader, begging them and pleading with then then tell him why they think their friends hate them and who the h*ll told them they were some robot-! How dare someone say that to them?! They're with him, aren't they? So obviously they ain't evil! He's hugging them, murmuring soft words and letting them cry into his shoulder, all to try and stop their sadness, their self-hatred, their pain... He isn't leaving them, no, not for one minute. They need him... But they need to figure out what's taken everyone else, and see if they can't stay safe... So can they please calm down, just for Gambir, please-?)

[vaguely-concerned]

Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially) 

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol) 

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally. 

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol. 

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least). 

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud 

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering. 

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

[beurkivol]

JORGE CANT HURT US MORE ISNT ? [WISDOM SAGA EDITION | SPOILERS]

at the end of the thunder saga I was crying my eyes out. But hey, I said to myself, as an unquestioning optimist. Now that all the crew are dead, no one's going to die, so no more emotional damage, it's DONE, and he can't do the pancake thing again, Jay! Ahhhh. I was optimistic and naive. I'd forgotten that Mr Jay was as crazy as I was. Or worse. So here we go, rewinding the traumas!

Legendary :

legendary spared us quite a bit at the beginning, at least all the sweet stuff with Telemachus playing Disney princesses. Only argos got me, but then argos is ‘only’ in the animatics. well, I'm going to count the animatics because I was at the livestream.

And then antinous. It's not so much the trauma as the distress of telemachus that was touching. And I jumped up when I heard antinous' words. I was expecting threats, vulgarity, in short, for him to be hurtful, but I wasn't expecting that.

little wolf

Little Wolf was also quite calm. What I mean by that is that the trio of songs shared by Athena and Telemachus can be touching, that Antinous is worrying, the songs aren't bathed in the same dark, worrying and pessimistic atmosphere as those in Thunder Saga. Athena brings light and hope to Telemachus and you think ‘that's it, a goddess against all this rubbish, it'll be over in no time’. Even if telemachus takes a beating against antinous, he's got an impressive level up and with just a little more help from athena he'll be able to beat everyone.

We'il be fine

when we'il be fine, i screamed, because ATHENA CHARACTER ARC. Because she calls odysseus her friend, she calls telemachus good kid, because you feel the chemistry between the two and it's incredible. you feel all the hope in this song, and telemachus is definitely the reincarnation of polites. And the reference to your light is sublime.

Love in paradise

the little recap at the beginning of love in paradise is nice, especially in animatic, I was riveted. I have to admit that for Love in Paradise I was really waiting for a slightly comic song where Calypso acts like a 2 year old fangirl. I totally underestimated Jay. Already. 1. the music grabbed me right in the heart. And…. sorry but the depressive part of the song? ‘ody, get away from the lenge’. I thought polites couldn't fool me any more. LOST. JUST LET ME CLOSE MY EYES, MY OPENS ARMS. odysseus's howl at the end broke my heart. You could really feel his despair. I couldn't even see ‘im a monster now’ (not the raw raw raw version the edgy version), I just saw a depressed, borderline suicidal guy. heartbreaking.

God games

god games. i was expecting a punchy, catchy, song. A great song. But i was not expecting the end. (i do a little post about, and 2 other about athena)

in other words, ZEUS STAGGERING HIS OWN DAUGHTER, HIS FAVORITE DAUGHTER. AND HER, WALKING IN THE LIGHTNING, MOTIVED BY A VISION OF THE FAMILY SHE IS FIGHTING FOR, FALLING ON THE FLOOR IN HER OWN BLOOD AND BEGGING HIS FATHER (WHO TRIED TO KILL HER) TO LET GO HIS FRIEND AND PASSED OUT OR DYING WE DONT KNOW.

do i really need to said more ? NO.

but im going to analyse all that more i swear...

Jorge, im watching you. If athena dies, im going to do something bad.

[bluegekk0]

would the adults in the family smoke/drink/take drugs? if not now, what about when their trauma was really bad?

Putting it under a read more because it's long, and because of the subjects mentioned which some may not feel like reading. Warnings for use of alcohol, drugs and sexual topics (I'm adding that last one because it is very relevant to this topic for Grimm specifically)

Grimm and Vyrm drink together from time to time, and sometimes Hornet joins them as well, though she doesn't like the taste of most drinks. Holly and Zote don't drink, as do the kids, naturally (though I imagine there are some non-alcoholic drinks they could sip on). Alcohols like mead and wine are especially popular during town celebrations, and there is also a tavern in the town that Grimm occasionally visits with Vyrm or the Troupe whenever they celebrate a successful performance. I don't think anyone smokes, and when it comes to drugs, there is the substance found in the beasts named Squit, which has some drug-like effects. Vyrm is occasionally under its influence if he ends up hunting for them in Greenpath, and while it can help him relax, it often has an opposite effect and for that reason he rarely consumes it outside of those hunts. Aside from that, I wouldn't say anyone else does any kind of drugs.

---

Now, in the past, things were a lot different for both Grimm and Vyrm. I'll start with Grimm, since he's the one who really experimented with this stuff. I don't think he ever smoked, but he attended many social events and parties where alcohol and other substances were plenty, and he definitely didn't spare himself any of it. He would get drunk and sometimes start fights in taverns for fun, and even during more sophisticated events he liked to drink and mess with everyone if he felt bored. During many of these events he also hooked up with strangers, so very often you'd see him leave the main event and disappear with whomever he wanted to have some fun with. He was definitely a party animal, so it's no surprise that he would drink a lot and do other things.

Things took a different turn after he met Vyrm. He didn't stop attending events and enjoying himself, but he tried to visit Vyrm as often as he could, and as his feelings for him grew stronger and stronger, he found himself thinking more about that than some of his more wild activities. Because of his new focus, he would also drink less. Getting to know Vyrm had an effect on his chaotic life, undoubtedly, he was already slowly in the process of settling down and leaving that life behind, even if he had no guarantee that he'd end up in a relationship with him.

Unfortunately, after Vyrm disappeared, Grimm didn't take it too well. He didn't attend as many parties as he had no energy for them, but he still drank a lot, more than ever, in hopes it would numb the pain of his heartbreak and all of his guilt. It was a period where he indulged in anything that would make him temporarily forget, which for him was primarily alcohol and sexual encounters. Divine and Brumm's intervention helped him from falling completely into the pit of despair, but he still drank a lot whenever he was by himself.

After Vyrm came back, Grimm was able to overcome that habit, certainly made it easier by the fact that he was replacing his physical body periodically (which meant that the effects of his drinking thankfully weren't nearly as destructive as they would be otherwise). Instead of reaching for wine whenever he felt down, he had a partner to find comfort in. He still struggled with the sexual part of his old habits, he would seek that frequently, often just to make himself feel better, which back then made him worry that he only saw Vyrm as another sexual partner. Which, of course, wasn't the case, he truly loved him, it wasn't just sexual attraction. These days, he doesn't deal with those fears nearly as often, he's a lot more confident in his feelings for Vyrm, and their private encounters are rooted in their genuine passion for one another instead of being framed as a form of escape. As for drinking, he was able to stop doing so to cope, and instead only drinks occasionally as a form of celebration, to mentally set the acceptable boundary and not fall back into his habits.

---

When it comes to Vyrm, he didn't outright have a problem with alcohol, smoking, or anything else that could be seen as addictive (like sex in Grimm's case). Well, almost anything, though he wasn't aware of it for most of his life. It was soul, the magical substance found at the center of his powers. He consumed it in liquid form in place of eating actual food, and he would rely on it all the time to heal any ailment he had through focusing it. At the beginning of his rule, things were perfectly fine, but as time went on, the lack of proper nutrients and calories had a bad effect on his body. Instead of eating, he would constantly rely on soul to keep him going, which inevitably put him in a spot where he was basically addicted to it. Any attempts at eating food were unsuccessful for as long as there was a source of soul nearby, as he was too terrified of embracing his instincts, especially after the Xero incident.

The reliance on the substance was slowly killing him, and only when it was stripped from him and when the hibernation messed with his knowledge of soul magic, was he able to leave it behind. It wasn't smooth at all, granted. Right after waking up from hibernation, he experienced what can easily be compared to withdrawals. Nausea and vomiting (inevitably also connected to the fact that his stomach had to adjust to proper food intake), insomnia, heightened anxiety, tremors, he had an absolutely terrible time for the first few weeks of not relying on soul. All of the symptoms were made even worse by his guilt, as well as the wound on his head that slowly became infected, which would cause him all kinds of pain and side effects.

Eventually he reunited with Hornet, Holly and Grimm, and while he had the opportunity to heal, he did struggle with the symptoms for a while. He would still experience tremors and anxiety, nausea became less frequent but it still sometimes bothered him. Luckily for him, soul wasn't a commonly found substance outside of the White Palace (in the AU, it works a bit differently; only a soul-based higher being can extract it from living beings, which disqualified Vyrm, and I see the soul totems found all over the in-game world as a gameplay only thing; meanwhile, the hot springs are filled with water without any soul in it), so he had very little chance of getting back into the harmful habit. Besides, he could not use any of the spells anymore, the hibernation erased his memories related to them, so he would have to re-learn it all to utilize soul.

The first year or two after his return were a healing period for him. As he found comfort in his new partner, and focused on eating to gain weight and heal the damage his body suffered throughout the years of relying on soul, his withdrawal symptoms softened. These days, it's all behind him, and while he does sometimes worry that he might relapse if he ever comes into contact with soul, his acceptance of his instincts and the gained love for food guarantee that whatever would happen, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as it was back in the day. Soul nearly destroyed him because he was scared of eating, which isn't the case anymore. That said, he still avoids it, as he's comfortable not using any magic and being an equal to those around him.

[onlyyours2love]

One pattern that I keep seeing that the people that love me love most about me is my optimism and today during a super long mopping session I ended up thinking….and thinking…and thinking some more.

Life gets shitty sometimes, it hurts and it’s agonizing. It feels like it burns, stings, it can feel like you’re chained down at the bottom of the ocean and being slowly drowned.

I grew up in a cult which immortal life in a paradise was promised after a whole bunch of apocalyptic stuff happened, and as a kid this obviously this thrilled me.

I grow up and I realize that I grew up in a cult and a bunch of existential life crisises happen. Haha.

Yet one thing that I end up thinking about is the promise of everlasting, permanent immortal happiness and what that actually entails.

Immortal happiness means I lose all memory of feeling all the ugly and the messy things. It means that super cliche “you can’t know happiness without knowing despair” line

I’ve gone through abuse and I recognize that I’ve dealt with a lot of pain in my life, stuff that should’ve never happened. Yet, I’m thankful I know misery.

And I love you misery. And I love your friend grief, and her friend loss, and her cousin pain, her sister hopelessness and all their friends and family

because it was the very existence of those that made me realize -and reminds me everyday- that those are not the only things that are meant for me in this life.

Life herself is not designed or rigged for me to only experience the bad.

I am not solely to be destined to a life of pain.

I am meant to feel love, and joy, and happiness, warmth, care and peace.

It is the very thing that makes me human.

So even when life is a dumpster fire I listen.

I listen to the agony, to the heartbreak, the disappointment. I get to feel that and from that it births a type of love that is built into me that’s here to fight for me and one of my favorite things about myself. A reminder-

Hope and faith.

And isn’t it beautiful?

that something so pure and ethereal can birth from the lowest point of our existence?

And I find gratitude that one day I will return to dust because it means I have a deadline and every day I get to feel everything that is part of this experience and I’m okay with that.

I am not solely to be destined to a life of pain.

I am not solely to be destined to a life of pain.

I am not solely to be destined to a life of pain.

I am not solely to be destined to a life of pain.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

So, thought of some sad Taka and Takaaki stuff.

And it's Mastermind AU stuff. If Takaaki was a Mastermind in THH.

After Mondo's execution, Taka completely shuts down. No sleep, won't eat, won't speak and nobody is really there to help him out. Makoto is trying, but it doesn't work. And everyone else just either acknowledges him or doesn't bat an eye.

Takaaki really didn't want it to happen. Taka...he was happy. He made friends with Mondo, and as much as he didn't like Mondo given his record, he felt glad that Taka met him. Even if he wanted Taka to make friends with someone a bit better. Someone who didn't challenge him to a sauna battle where both of them could've died. And in the most idiotic way, too. But...Taka was happy. And the two really loved each other.

He wasn't an idiot. He knew how to two looked at each other. They really loved one another. Then...

Then Mondo killed Chihiro.

He knew what would happen. He couldn't be biased. He couldn't keep Mondo alive and figure something else to replace him. No. Mondo needed to be executed. He took a life. And now, his life must be taken from him. It's how it worked. He knew the justice system as well as anyone else, it was his job! His career was justice.

And...justice wasn't the best thing in the world when it came to something like this. He remembered just how awful he felt when he had Mondo board the bike. When he had Mondo chained down. It was funny, he felt joy of seeing the despair in others' eyes. When he killed the others previously, it felt nice...

And he practically felt nothing else, not even any remorse. But Mondo made him feel the most remorse. But not for Mondo himself, but for Taka. He just wished Mondo wasn't the boy he knew for years since the formation of The Crazy Diamonds. Which, he wasn't, but...

He was still the same. That awful temper and blind rage that got him in trouble a lot.

And seeing Taka during the aftermath made him feel worse about everything, too.

He hoped Taka would at least eat or something. Then again...you really wouldn't eat if you thought your best friend could be in the meal you were given. Right? He also wished Taka would just at least sleep. Prayed for at least a little nap. But Taka refused.

When Taka became Kiyondo Ishida, he was worried. But, at least he was feeling better. And he'd finally do things like sleeping! That was something! And when Taka would go to sleep, he'd sneak into his room and just watch him for a bit. Make sure he's okay.

He'd see the tear streaks on his son's cheeks as his son held Mondo's jacket close to him. Curling up into a little ball as he slept. It was heartbreaking. He wished it didn't happen that way. He'd embrace Taka ever so carefully. He'd apologize quietly, apologizing to the pain he's caused his son to go through. And that he was sorry for being an awful father and that he loved him.

It was really what he could do. It was the only thing. He could only hope that Taka would be safe. Safe from harm.

And how wrong he was.

[officeobject]

More stuff I can't verify, but oh well - and yes, I think some reach out to me multiple times.

joyfultidalwaveobject

11h ago

joyfultidalwaveobject asked:

Hello lm hamdi ayyad ,I humbly ask for your support by reblogging this post on your account to help save my family. As newcomers to Tumblr and GoFundMe, we are in desperate need of your kindness and support. 🙏🇵🇸🍉😔Please donate 🙏🏼Let's reach the goal as soon as possible https://gofund.me/4de94fec

Answer

majedalgherbawi

1d ago

majedalgherbawi asked:

Dear friends ❤️🇵🇸

Thank you very much from my heart for your donation and support 🙏🏼

I want to say that I only have $500 left to reach my short-term goal of $7,500. Please help me reach my goal today 🙏🏼😔. I ask those who can donate to donate so I can reach my short goal today Thank you very much ❤️🇵🇸🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/59e9578a

Answer

hanangaza7

1d ago

hanangaza7 asked:

Hello friends, I am Hanan from Gaza. I have three children. Asking for help is not easy and I need your help. Can you donate to save my life and my children's lives💔. I ask everyone to donate🙏 It will save my children's lives from death, hunger and malnutrition. They need a lot of milk, diapers, medicine for treatment and winter clothes to stay warm and rebuild my family's life again and help me cover travel expenses and rebuild 🍉🇵🇸 My link is in my bio. (Please see my bio)https://gofund.me/3c368bc9 My account is verified by @90-ghost

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #140 )

Answer

lana550

1d ago

lana550 asked:

Hello, I'm Lana from Gaza. 🍉I hope you and your family are safe. I live in the hell of war, where my dreams and those of my family are shattered by constant shelling. I've lost many family members and my home, and my father has been injured by shrapnel. I’m also suffering from hepatitis due to environmental pollution.

We urgently need your support; every donation can be a lifeline. I experience severe stomach pain from contaminated water and unhealthy food, and my health is deteriorating.

Today, we received a warning to evacuate for the tenth time. We have no place to go, no tent, nothing. We are heading into the unknown, overwhelmed by fear. It’s heartbreaking to pay $5 to charge my phone while clean water costs $10 and a single cucumber is $5.

I need your help now more than ever. Every donation, no matter how small, can bring us hope. Please assist us as we search for survival in this despair.🥹😭

Answer

yasermohammad

1d ago

yasermohammad asked:

To all Palestine supporters 🇵🇸🚨

To the kind-hearted ❤️🇵🇸

We still need less than 510€ to reach our short-term goal of 26k€ ‼️

Your donations are important for our survival💔

Please help us reach our goal as soon as possible 🙏

We appreciate your help no matter what it is 💖🙏

❤🤍💚🖤

[goshdangronpa]

oh PLEASE hit with that 7-10

Hey, Peach! Is this for the ask game? Dang, that was fast

7.) Favorite Class Trial From All The Games? The last trial in SDR2. The overwhelming barrage of plot twists (holy shit it's Makoto! ... holy shit it's NOT), the roller coaster of emotions, the violently jarring shifts in setting and tone (everyone's back! ... EVERYONE'S IZURU). Plus, I finally understood the point of, and finally came to like, Hajime Hinata.

V3's fourth trial came very close for its masterful subversions of the Danganronpa formula, and especially the incredible use of gameplay to forward the narrative. That moment where you have to COUNTER Kaito and AGREE with Kokichi is a heartbreaker.

8.) Least Favorite Class Trial From All The Games? THH's third one is unique in being almost anti-hype. Every other trial at least has a disturbing set-up, preposterous reveals, a string of moments where everything falls into place, and characters revealing their true selves. This one has ... little hammers and a cardboard box robot? And the hammers were used in a different order than you'd expect? And a fairly obvious culprit, motivated by fairly uninteresting reasons to cook up a fairly bland murder plot? Even when the other trials sucked in certain ways, they had some real imagination and zest and emotional heft to them. Not the case here.

9.) Favorite Execution? Like I could name anything other than Kirumi's execution. Hoooly shit. Its basis in mythology makes for truly striking imagery, like a Saw trap wrought by a vengeful god. And though we've only just come to know Kirumi's nature, it's such a perfect match for that character. The emotional power of the body-rending climb, the dashed hope, and the plummet to hell is how I define Despair. Just gotta quote Linkin Park here, with zero irony: she tried so hard and got so far, and in the end, it didn't even matter.

Korekiyo's came close for being, by a landslide, the funniest in the whole series. My understanding from his monologue in the third trial is that he abused and killed his sister, so her spirit teaming with Monokuma to extinguish his soul made me bust a fucking gut.

10.) Least Favorite Execution? I'd say Mikan, but I've played with the idea enough in an as-yet unreleased fanfic project that I can't say it doesn't do something for me. Gonta's execution? I got nothing. Why the high noon setting? Why impalement by a dang Beedrill? Why ... why all that stuff with the Monokubs ...

[hinderr]

hi! idk if you've watched tcw (spoilers ahead), but there's the arc where Angry Teenage Boba takes jango's armor and ship and embarks on a quest to get revenge by killing mace windu, then after breaking out of prison becomes the head of a crime syndicate (at age 12), starts a gang war with cad bane, and proceeds to spend the next 20 years bounty hunting and basically trying to live up to what he sees as jango's legacy. and anyways i have so many Thoughts about Angry Teenage Grogu doing the *exact same thing* - taking his father's armor, a replica of his ship, abandoning almost everyone in his quest to kill gideon, and after breaking out of house arrest he's started bounty hunting because that's one of the major things grogu remembers about din - !!! and it reminded me of that scene where he didnt want to paint his armor because din never did, and how he's trying so hard to be what he thought din was like, strong and fearless and shiny because that's what he remembered as a baby, that he's started losing sight of what din wanted *for him* - a peaceful, non-main-characterish life surrounded by loved ones.

(okay this ask is getting very long and i hope it all shows up right lol)

poor boba's probably sitting in the palace (speaking of, boba's like 70 now right? since he's 10 yrs younger than anakin who i think is about the same age as grogu?) despairing about how grogu, this kid he's raised and rescued, is making Every Single Mistake he ever made, how he tried so hard to be who people remembered his father as, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, the jedi-killer, et cetera, and in that he only became the person jango was at his lowest, most depressed point, having pushed away everyone who ever cared about him, and how he only dragged himself back out after falling in the Sarlacc and spending the next three(?) years half-dead ;-; and now he's watching grogu going down the same path for the same reasons and he really doesn't want the kid to get mostly-digested in order to reflect on his life!!

but also he's about as socially capable as his rancor and he doesn't know how to explain this all to grogu, and now he left and isn't answering comms, and boba can only hope grogu doesn't push vars away too, because one friend is better than what boba had at that age, at least. and grogu's despairing over the 'clan of two' stuff and boba despairing over how he doesn't know how to tell grogu that he was literally in the exact same position, that jango died and he was left alone. and he doesn't even have his father's actual helmet anymore because he destroyed it in the explosion trying to kill windu, and the metaphors are so obvious!!

anyways just. the parallels here are heartbreaking, and i really do hope grogu de-sithifies himself enough to have an actual Conversation before boba dies, because boba spent 24 years chasing the echoes of his father's ghost and grogu's just started ;-;

-redbean-nom

I LOVEEE THIS ASK. THIS AND THE ONE YOU SENT PREVIOUSLY ALSO ABOUT YOUNG BOBA because you understand EXACTLY what i was going for!!!!! BOBA UNDERSTANDS. More than possibly ANYONE else he understands and he ALWAYS SAYS SO. Everytime Grogu tells him he "can't possibly" understand his grief, Boba's reaction is to almost always say, quietly, that he in fact can

But what Grogu needs isn't actually understanding. Grogu needs to accept. He needs to put it down. He's carried the weight of his father's death, LITERALLY with the helmet on his back, ever since it happened. And it's been preventing him from moving forward and growing and living. He needs to put his grief down and to do that he needs to realise to putting it down won't make him lose it (just like how he tends to fret over leaving his father's helmet outta sight for fear of losing it Grogu cannot imagine a life and a world where he is not drowning in his sorrow). Because Grogu has grown up losing and losing over and over that it's become a part of him. Unintentionally he's cemented himself as that kid who lost his dad

But he could be more. He could be more if only he'd let people in. Dream-din once said to him after he ran away that he was upset Grogu did that and "abandoned the people who cared about him". Because god people do care about him. But Grogu is so enveloped in his grief that he doesn't even know who he would be without it. Every time he thinks about a life after avenging his father he comes up empty

And it's delicious that Boba knows exactly what that's like. He's likely the person who'd understand the most but BY VIRTUE of being able to understand he's also had to live it and damn if it doesnt still hurt to think about, decades and decades after. Damn if Boba wasn't also shaped by his grief. Aurgh these two are so everything to me im so happy you understandddd YOU UNDERSTAND!!!

[saints-who-never-existed]

Rereading The Terror

It's been a while! (Mainly because I went home for Christmas and didn't think to take the book with me!)

Chapter Forty-Six: Crozier

They're still going, as much as Crozier wishes that they could stop, that he could finally stop and that the bright flame of hope within him could die out "so he could surrender to the inevitable and lie down and pull the frozen tundra up over himself like a child under a blanket settling into his nap."

They've made camp once again, dubbing this one 'Hospital Camp'. and it's been a hard slog to get there across a large bay of ice. It's heartbreaking to read Crozier reminiscing almost fondly of their initial jaunt from ships to Terror Camp - as godawfully grim as we know it was, they made a "fantastic rate" then compared to the pitiful few hundred yards a day they're often covering now.

The dreaded tinned food is all gone at this point. They initially swore off the stuff after Fitzjames's death with Richard Aylmore being the only man to continue to consume them, at Crozier's behest. The rest of the men only began to eat from the tins again when Aylmore showed no particular signs of ill-health, although the same cannot be said for two other seamen who went against orders to sneak in some lead-laden tinned goodness. About one such man, who died in agony after eating a stolen tin of peaches, Crozier has this to say at what passes for his funeral: "Life is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short" the captain had intoned "It seems it is shorter for those who steal from their mates."

This blunt eulogy is a hit with the remaining men who immediately rename the boats dragged during the dreaded afternoon/evening haul - the ones they have to go back for again and again - as Solitary, Poor, Nasty, Brutish, and Short. "Crozier had grinned at this. It meant the men were not so far gone into hunger and despair that their English sailors' black humour did not still hold a cutting edge."

Crozier doesn't smile for long though - there's mutiny a-brewing! And it comes, in part, from "the last man on earth that Francis Crozier would have imagined opposing his command."! The camp is quiet, with many men and loyal officers away hunting and scouting for leads so it's easy for Crozier to hear the gathering of men outside his tent. Lieutenant Hodgson is at the head of this group, alongside several other senior men - captains of foretops and forecastles etc. In total, there are 23 of them ("...punch 23 holes into his lungs with a boat knife" anyone?!) including, of course, Manson, Aylmore, and Hickey. "Hickey looked at him with eyes so hooded and cold they could have belonged to one of the white bears they'd encountered - or perhaps to the thing on the ice itself"

In short, the 23 men want to return to the ship in hopes of a thaw. Crozier chides them all - for believing such a thing is possible, for believing they can make it back north before winter starts to set in again, for believing that the ship will still be afloat and that they'll be able to make their way out to her across the water: "Even if you steal one of the whaleboats, that will only hold ten or twelve of you with minimal supplies. Or are you planning on having ten or more of your party die before you get back to the camp? They will, you know. More than that."

His rant seems to do the trick for the most part, cowing the men, encouraging them to reconsider or at the very least to back down for now. But not Hickey. He tugs Manson's sleeve and they both step forward, threateningly, "past an alarmed-looking Hodgson". Crozier thinks quickly and grasps at the pistol in his pocket, deciding to shoot Hickey in the stomach and Manson right between the eyes - "No body shot was guaranteed to bring Manson down."

But before he can act - a commotion in the distance! "Everyone except Crozier and the caulker's mate turned to see what was happening. Crozier's gaze never left Hickey's eyes. Both men turned their heads only when the shouting started." It's Lieutenant Little, returned from a lead-scouting party with Mr Reid, Peglar and others. Making his way off the ice and onto land, he is - hilariously - completely oblivious to the mutinous drama that's just been unfolding in camp. "Open water!"

[always-andromeda]

you're my fav paul blog anf writer 💖 do you have any headcanons for brian wilson? I just wanna squish his cheeks and protect him, also chubby paul is best paul 🥰

Author’s Note | thank you so much, my dear!! chubby Paul is the best Paul oh my gosh. such a lovely spherical man. <3 I'll be filing this one under the Fool for Love category since no prompt was specified!! hope this hits the spot for you, anon!!

A Disclaimer | As with any characters that I write who are based on real people, I would like to say that the Brian Wilson I am writing about here is not meant to reflect the real life Brian Wilson, merely the character Paul plays in Love and Mercy!

Eyelids heavy and vision blurry, you can hardly stay awake. But it's worth it. It's worth having these little hours with him. You wish he'd get some sleep, but this is alright too. Your Brian, stationed at his piano, working out the little song that you're sure is playing in his head while you sit with him.

"Sweetheart?" he nudges your shoulder, "Did you hear that bit?"

You blink fast, eyes taking a second to adjust to the black and white keys in front of you. As much as you love the way he plays, you can't remember for the life of you what just came out of his magical fingertips. You hum and nod faintly, only to hear Brian chuckle.

"What're you laughing at?" you begin to whine.

But your tone only makes Brian's light teasing continue. He rubs slow circles on your lower back that only make your eyelids droop further. His arm curls around you, pressing you closer into his pudgy sides. He's so warm. So soft. God, he's just like a pillow. You whine once more, "Whaaaat?"

"Nothing...you're just very sweet when you're about to fall asleep, that's all." You catch his lips curl slightly; see his eyes crinkle at the corners. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you just want to get a better look at his soft features. 

You huff and barely manage the energy to scrunch up your nose at him. "I am not falling asleep." you conclude with a defiant cockiness.

"Oh yeah? Then what did I just play?"

Your mind goes blank. But Brian doesn't hold it against you. He just shakes his head and smiles again before resting his hands on the piano keys once more.

He coaxes the sweetest sounds from the instrument, exercising the only kind of control that he can with his pressure as his fingers dance over the keys. His ability to simply come up with something off the top of his head always sweeps you off of your feet. When he adds his voice into the quiet song, you swear that it's enough to send you off to dreamland.

Brian hums faintly, making up a melody where lyrics would be. And somehow, even without lyrics, his voice hits just as hard as if he'd delivered pure poetry. His voice is honey, slowly encasing you in a saccharine haze. Your eyelids droop even more.

Until you realize it's something new. Something you're sure you haven't heard him and the boys go over before.

"Are you writing your own stuff again, baby?" You ask faintly. The idea strikes you with just enough joy that you perk up just a little. You know how difficult it is for him to convince the guys to take a chance on his material. And you hate how often he has to stifle his ideas and make it more palatable for the label. More marketable.

Midway through a chord, he falters. His hands go to curl around the seat of the bench and he dips his head. And in the resounding silence, you hear him sigh. It's a sound filled with despair. An echo of whatever turbulence the simple question caused him.

"No...you know what the boys want me to work on." he sniffs bitterly, "Certainly not this stuff."

Your hand lays over one of his. Your fingers can't quite cover his own longer ones. In the dark you feel him let go of the wooden bench and instead squeeze your hand. As heartbreaking as his reply is, the little action convinces you that he's not spiraling. Not yet, at least. He's just upset; just in need of some direction.

Throat dry and voice quiet, you manage to croak out, "There's nothing wrong with this stuff. I think that it was the start of something really wonderful. Besides, you should be allowed to work on what you want."

Brian lets out a soft whine, "But I'm not, sweetheart." Panic seeps into his tone. "If I don't have something to give them...then I lose it. If I lose it--"

Suddenly alert and taking on a newfound sternness, you interrupt, "You aren't going to lose it, Bri." There's a pause where you search through your muddled mind. You struggle to grasp onto coherence when you continue, "I think you've forgotten that...that band doesn't own you. You made them what they are. Without you...there wouldn't be record deals and tours and albums a-a-and...and the music! That music wouldn't be the same if you hadn't helped make it."

Brian's eyes close softly. And for a minute, he doesn't respond. With each second, you wonder if he's having an episode; if he's hearing those sounds that he describes to you sometimes. But his hand squeezes yours tighter, showing you that he's still there.

You keep going, already feeling hot tears begin to well up, "You're only a man Brian. Not a band, not a song, or just a face on a record. You're a human being and you're allowed to have things that are just for you and no one else. What's the point in creating if you stop doing it for yourself?"

All you hear is him breathing. His back slowly rises and falls as he processes your words. And behind the messy hair that falls over his forehead, you see his eyes open. They stare at the ivory keys in front of him. Then he nods.

Looking back at you, he says, "I think it's time for both of us to go back to bed." He smiles with pursed lips. "We need it."

Searching his expression, you don't find anything repressed. No tightness. No strain on his features that hints him holding back how he really feels. Because you know good and well that he tends to do that. That he sees himself as a burden; much too big a load for you to handle. You return your own sweet little smile. 

Somehow, that's enough. It's enough to finally put you to sleep. And though he knows that the worries will come back--they always do--he won't be alone. He may just be a man but he also has you.

[overthinkingalchemist]

In Your Honor: Heartbreak Storytelling

"It's an album that appears to be telling a narrative: the story of a broken-hearted protagonist trying to navigate his confusing feelings in a lopsided relationship. Be it unrequited love or a toxic relationship, he struggles to get over this fractured connection that brings him anxiety and pain."

In Your Honor is, at first glance, your standard affair when it comes to Foo Fighters albums. Songs that speak in broad terms about feelings in relationships, with catchy guitar melodies, describe essentially the entire band’s discography. However, going back to it after the release of But Here We Are, an album with clear strong overarching themes of grief, made me appreciate the progression of emotions evoked in each of the songs a lot more. Particularly interesting is the fact that In Your Honor, in its first disc, seems to also have an overarching theme. It’s an album that appears to be telling a narrative: the story of a broken-hearted protagonist trying to navigate his confusing feelings in a lopsided relationship. Be it unrequited love or a toxic relationship, he struggles to get over this fractured connection that brings him anxiety and pain.

It all starts with the eponymous first track, In Your Honor — and it starts with the description of complete and utter devotion of the speaker towards this other party. And I mean some truly rock-bottom stuff; our guy is willing to outright DIE for them. There are no boundaries. As it is said in the lyrics “mine is your and yours is mine, there is no divide”. The protagonist doesn’t know who he is apart from the object of his devotion and he’s screaming towards the skies for anyone who’ll listen. Such is the emotional weight, that his life doesn’t matter apart from them.

“I will sacrifice In your honor, I would die tonight For you to feel alive”

No Way Back follows closely on the same track, but with a new sense of urgency. Maybe a bit of insecurity has creeped in, and now we’re looking for reassurance. Living in his head, pleading for a sign that he’s not fighting for nothing, he wants a response and some recognition for his love.

“I'm dying for truth Make me believe No more left and right, come on, take my side I'm fighting for you, I'm fighting for you”

It’s despair fueled by the thought that maybe things aren’t what they seemed to him. But the speaker has gone too far into his devotion, and he now knows it, but he’s still trying to bargain and get his acknowledgement. He is “breaking things” he “can’t repair”, because... well, there’s no way back from loving this person. The feelings are here and at full force, consuming his thoughts, in a borderline pathological sense.

Now, before paying close attention to the lyrics, the transition to Best of You can be a bit strange. At least sonically, it can feel like the album would flow better by going straight into DOA. But of course, in this narrative that we’re piecing together, there’s no better time for Best of You to come into play. This absolute ANTHEM represents the point of realization, where the protagonist comes to understand the one-sided nature of his love. And this realization is very much in everyone’s faces, as the first verse starts with a “confession” of how far they’ve fallen. In this moment of lucidity, there comes a want to break away from the chains that bind him to this unhealthy attachment. The protagonist feels like a fool, stuck between “life or death” — which is understandable after investing so much into something and getting your hopes suddenly swept off your feet. Seeing through the cracks, he wants to make an effort to regain his agency in life, validate his feelings, and heal. He uses chains, ropes, and death as analogies for the weight of his feelings, as he declares that this pain is a very real pain. And it is. Whether his agony is brought by his own doing as he obsesses over an unrequited love and feels hurt for being unwanted, or by being put-down by a toxic relationship, his feelings are real and need to be validated before he can go on a path of healing. It’s very appropriate for Best of You to be the most popular song from the album, as it perfectly encapsulates its feelings and conflict as a whole, bringing an intense and emotionally charged basis for it to build upon.

"He uses chains, ropes, and death as analogies for the weight of his feelings, as he declares that this pain is a very real pain. And it is."

DOA is a breaking point. Lover-guy has had it of his suffering and wants to tell everyone that he will move on. Imbued with some false confidence, even the song adopts a relatively fun, playful sound to represent this façade of a nonchalant attitude. But on top of that, a lot of aggression seeps in, as the protagonist antagonizes the other party (perhaps to make it easier to justify his feelings of hurt). After seeing through his situation, he regains a bit of his power, as he recognizes that he fell from grace, knows he must get out of this mental space and feels great for already taking the first steps to get away from it. And he does so by severing his ties to his love as best as he can for now.

“I'm finished, I'm getting you off my chest, made you come clean in a dirty dress” - Verse 2

“Take a good hard look for the very last time The very last one in a very long line Only took a second to say goodbye Been a pleasure, but the pleasure's been mine, all mine” -Verse 3

The following three songs seem to put the speaker in an anxious thought loop; they are a little chronologically disconnected, as if he is going back and forth on his thoughts as he tries to reframe his feelings, but he ends up getting caught further in them. The first one in the sequence is Hell, where the protagonist adopts an extremely cynical view on the relationship: “I’ll be right there, the buzz inside your head […] see you in hell”. Hell frames his experience as a toxic battle; the two parties in the relationship don’t want to break away from each other (he is still in their “spell”, after all), but the flame between them isn’t passion, but a burning hellscape.

The Last Song is as straightforward — if not more — as Hell. This time it’s about a clear desire to break off from this person. The interactions are too conflictive and out of sync to handle (maybe that’s the hellscape we’ve been described before), so the protagonist is swearing to not speak of them again, as this is “the last song” about them. This might not be true because, even here, he says that they only “pretend it doesn’t matter”. It’s not easy; there are still feelings that bind. And this is further explored in Free Me, where the lyrics seem to evoke all the bad feelings and triggers that this rupture brings them. Their problems unresolved, unspoken, as the hurt buried deep within isn’t convenient to handle or bring up. Now is the time the protagonist screams at the top of his voice his desire to be free, to break the chains that he’s seen since Best of You. And he suggests that the other party should do the same.

“All of the words that we dare never speak All of our ghosts and the secrets we keep Gather them all, and we'll bury them deep Like a safe full of sorrow” -Verse 1

“Can you free what's keeping you? Well, I need somebody to” -Post-chorus

After what is essentially the climax of his anxiety and anguish, the speaker finally sees some relief and solace, softening up and looking back on his experiences in a more positive light in Resolve. Adopting perhaps a more mature outlook after some time and distance has been put from the relationship, the protagonist reflects on his past and reframes his experiences as part of life. The good, the bad... it was all necessary for his growth. He fully understands and accepts where he stands at this moment, which isn’t to say he is “through” everything; a part of him still wishes things were easier and it still hurts to distance himself from something that he was so attached to and that he used to wish worked differently, but he is wiser from it and is finally ready to move forward. Still, he looks for that resolve to keep going and learn to be himself again.

“Looking back to find my way never seemed so hard Yesterday's been laid to rest, changing of the guard I would never change a thing even if I could All the songs we used to sing, everything was good”

The Deepest Blues Are Black paints one of the most beautiful visual analogies from the Foo Fighters. The protagonist reflects on the lost love; perhaps some reconciliation happened, or the person still occupies some space on his mind. Either way, a bittersweet wave of feelings floods his thoughts. It’s undeniable that he loves or loved this person, even after all the pain and resentment he felt, so thinking about what could have been stings. And whenever he feels this person’s warmth, the qualities he admires and their seductive features, he compares those to the vast alluring blue sea. But just like the beauty of the sea, the bitter nostalgia and the overwhelming amounts of jealousy brought by those feelings can shroud him in darkness — and drown him — if he goes too deep. He thinks about how his loved one can easily seduce someone and move on from him, and it eats at him to think about how they’re with someone else. Even if it couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t work between them… it sucks.

“Shame on you, seducing everyone You faded jewel, you diamond in the rough You don't have to tell me, I know where you've been Shining once again” - Verse 1

“The deeper the blues, the more I see black Sweeter the bruise, the feeling starts coming back All the deepest blues are black” - Chorus

And finally, End Over End is the way out. The album’s closer hits with a subtle confidence; its soundscape brings a calm but firm resolve. End Over End is hope. Hope to rise again amongst the good memories. Taking what’s good, leaving what holds you back, learning, and evolving from the pain. A new beginning is due, but renewal comes with change, time, and distance. As the experiences mold the protagonist into someone new, and hopefully better, he reflects on how he’s older and “worn” out. Marked from the past, but eager for the future.

“I'm a revolvin' door I've seen it all before I will begin again But I can't start until I've seen the end” - Verse 1

“I’m feeling out of luck Maybe I just feel too much That old familiar touch Will always sting my skin” -Verse 3

End Over End gives the album a sense of finality and renewal. The protagonist understands that there is a possibility to move on and rebuild himself if he lets time do its thing and hangs onto hope. This isn’t an ending per se; as the title itself suggests, life is a cycle of cycles. Ups and downs have taught him everything that makes him who he is. With his new sense of self, the protagonist can now keep looking for his place and his happiness — and the Foo Fighters can keep evolving and trying new things and new stories. But after all he's been through and survived… I think he’ll be ok.

“The good in everyone The ties we've left undone The heart that moves your blood All the things that bring me right back here” -Verse 3

Now, whether the band actually thought of weaving this continuous narrative at any point during production is an unknown. It is possible that they had entirely different experiences in their heads while writing this, and just as is the beauty of art, the open-ended nature of their lyrics can always evoke different feelings on the listener. So, have no worries, this isn’t me trying to decipher any “true” meanings, but rather explore a specific way to listen to and experience the album.

To be the eternally in love person, wallowing in their fantasies of heartbreak mixed with what could have been… it’s tacky, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t romanticize some pathological passion. To feel like something means so much that it consumes you and transforms you into someone new and evolved is an immensely powerful feeling that can, in a way, sum up what it is to truly live. To dream, to be vulnerable, to be disappointed, to be hurt, to change and grow; all of those are moments that can cause pain but remind us of our humanity. And maybe there aren’t many that could capture this with the needed intensity as well as the Foo Fighters.