#blow everything else out of the water like it does not matter how many or how few ppl u get in that room it could be hoshi by

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i am confused

Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????

Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)

But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????

Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)

Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???

Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Ghoul Pack HCs

How they would behave on flights

Dew

Dew is surprisingly well behaved at the airport and on the plane

Usually because Aether's used some of his quintessence on him to mellow him out a bit

Before he actually boards the plane, he's walking round all the duty free shops buying things he definitely doesn't need and absolutely cannot afford

By the time he's on the plane, he's ready to sit down and relax

He's the first to put his bags away and get sat down

He's been banned from sitting next to Swiss as they get too loud together so he usually chooses to sit with Cirrus or Mountain

He prefers just watch a movie to pass the time or help Mountain with his crosswords

He doesn't order plane food but his cabin bag is full of sweets from the duty free shops

Rain

Rain HATES flying with a burning passion

He has anxiety anyway but flying makes it so much worse

He is glued to either Aether or Copia the whole time they're in the airport as he finds the crowds and noise too overwhelming

He's almost always nonverbal during this time too so he'll sign to Aether if he needs anything

By the time he's sat down on the plane he's already chugged two litres of water hoping that having more of his element in him will calm him down

On the plane, he'll sit with his head tucked up into Copia's neck

He finds his heartbeat calming and it helps him relax

He panics every time the plane makes any sort of noise

He's convinced that EVERYTHING is a sign that the plane is either going to fall out of the sky and crash or it's going to blow up or something

If his anxiety gets really bad, Aether uses some quintessence on him to help him sleep

Aether will also do this as Rain gets partially bad pressure headaches when they're flying and he found that the only thing that can get rid of them is Aether's quintessence

Aether

Aether is the most responsible one of the pack so he's often in charge of the passports, boarding passes, money, and case keys

He loves having all those responsibilities as Quints are helpful by nature so he feels proud and fulfilled when Copia puts him in charge of all the important things

Aether remembers every bit of information they could possibly need to make the journey to the plane as smooth as possible

He remembers the gate number, where the gate is, how many bathrooms there are on the way, the closest cafe with the cheapest but best tasting coffee, and exactly what everyone wants to buy from the duty free shops

It does not matter if they're flying out for a show in California or they're on their way back to Sweden, Aether consistently wears a Hawaiian shirt, jorts, and sandals to the airport with absolutely zero exceptions

He prefers an aisle seat but does sometimes take the seat at the emergency door for the extra leg room

Phantom

At first he found airports extremely overwhelming and would take some sleeping pills and have Aether or Mountain carry him around or use as much quintessence on himself as he could without knocking himself unconscious

He loves them now that he's found ways to deal with all the noise

He mostly sticks with Dew, especially when Dew drags him to the duty free shops

Every time they're in an airport, at least one pack member or Copia has a heart attack when Phantom disappears into thin air for the third time in the past hour

He can usually be found crouched next to a power outlet charging his phone

His phone could literally be on 99% and he'd be convinced it's about to die

He loves croissants and always buys enough bags to feed the whole pack twice

By the time he's on the plane he's already eaten them all and is ready to fall into a carb coma

He sleeps the whole way though the flight each time

Mountain

Mountain likes to hang around with the ghoulettes when he's at the airport

When they go to the bathroom, he's in charge of looking after their rings, jackets, bracelets, hats, glasses, and whatever else they need holding

Cumulus' back sore from carrying her rucksack? Mountain will hold it. He'll also drag her case and carry her the whole way through the airport if she asked

Cirrus need someone to keep an eye on her phone as it charges on the floor? Mountain will physically fight anyone who gets too close

Aurora need someone to hold her mirror as she fixes her makeup? Mount will hold and quite literally turn his hands to stone so they don't shake

Sunnie need someone to help her fix her hair? Mountain has already put her hair into french plaits, dutch plaits, spacebuns, a low ponytail, a high ponytail, or somehow managed to give her a perm before she can even finish asking for his help

He doesn't usually eat the food provided on the plane as their vegetarian meals are rarely good

If he doesn't like the food he makes sure the whole pack knows . . . multiple times just in case they forgot how much he didn't like it

He always takes the window seat as he likes how cold the window gets

When be falls asleep, he smushes his face against the window causing him to wake up with some crazy wrinkles on the side of his face

Swiss

He is an absolute nightmare at the airport

Aether actually has to threaten him with his quintessence to behave

He loves joking around at the most serious moments

If he's asked why he's traveling, he'll say that he's seeking revenge, stopping a wedding, an once he literally barked at the security and was almost arrested

Every time he's been frisked he, every time without fail, says 'you could at least buy me a drink first' which again always almost gets him arrested

Every flight without fail Swiss will BEG for a first class upgrade

He'll drag Phantom or Mountain to his side and put on the best performance of his life, informing the flight attendants on how he's flying out for his honeymoon and really wants the flight there to be as magical as possible

Naturally he overdoes it with the theatrics they see straight through his lies

It's never worked and the pack do wonder why he even bothers trying at this point

When he's actually on the plane he has to sit in-between at least one of the more sensible ghouls because he's too loud with some of the others (cough cough - dew and phantom - cough cough)

Cumulus

She always gets dolled up for the airport

No one understands why but she's adamant she needs to look her best in case she sees someone really cute at the airport or on the flight

She constantly takes pictures from the second she leaves the Ministry till the second she returns

He Instagram is never quiet when she's going on a trip

She gets Aether to pick her up to let her get a stronger WiFi connection so her pics will upload faster

She has the most bags out of everyone

And yes she does get Mountain to drag the ones she can't carry while she carries her other ones

Shes a massive aviation nerd and loves planes but is somewhat secretive of it

She tries to calm Rain by explaining what's going on on the inside and outside of the plane

It rarely works but he appreciates the effort

Cumulus passes the time by playing the worst 2000s pop she has and staring out the window like she's in her own little music video

Cirrus

Does not matter if it's day or night, Cirrus only goes to the airport in her pajamas

Her hoodie is always on

She pulls her hood tight so there's a tiny hole for her to see out of

The hood only ever comes down so she can drink her coffee

Her headphones are immediately on before she's even stepped out of her room at the ministry and they don't come off until she is literally just about to step on stage

She is the absolute queen of packing light

The band could be going on tour non stop for a year and she'd only bring a rucksack full of stuff

She never has any idea where she's going and she honestly does not care

She just lets Aether steer her in the right direction the whole way

[moved-to-slayfk]

A Letter From Banner Elk

by Chris Davis

An intro from slayfk: Banner Elk is a small municipality in Avery County, North Carolina. It’s right near Boone, Valle Crucius, and Blowing Rock—that whole area. It’s a cute town that is home to a large amount of elderly retirees and many local shops. Hurricane Helene completely cut Banner Elk off from the rest of the world. Residents have no internet, no power, no way to get out. It is only accessible by air. The bridge that connects it to the rest of the world looks like this now:

Banner Elk is a beautiful town full of kind people and they need help. Chris Davis, a resident of Elk River in Banner Elk, wrote a plea to the outside world and managed to get it through. I will paste it below, as it’s incredibly important to read.

“Inside the Elk River community of Banner Elk, we are stranded. No power, no water. All day Saturday we cut trails through the trees fallen over the roads, in hope small vehicles can move around and we can check on each other.

If we reach the bottom of the mountain, we understand that the bridge over the Elk River is out. We are stranded. But, we do not know how stranded everyone else is.

We need intelligence; status of the outside world. Infrastructure. For instance, it would help to know when roads will be repaired so that help can come.

There are 20 horses at the barn. They probably have water for three days. Horses will drink 10 gallons of water a day. Do the math.

There are elderly people on the mountain. One lady has so many trees to her house we cannot see our way to cut through to check on her.

It seems as if a flood washed out the bottom and a tornado took out everything else.

Some homes have generators. That does not mean people whose generators are running are actually here. I hear them running. It is only a matter of time before fuel runs out.

I am able to connect with you because one neighbor, if he stands in the right place on his deck, has use of a telephone that allowed me to reach my wife.

She connected with my out of town neighbor who has a generator who shared her Wi-Fi password that I can at least come to their house charge batteries and send you this note.

We hear rumors of helicopters coming in to rescue people.

It is probably worse somewhere else. We will continue to try to clear the roads in our community to support one another and be ready for an evacuation.

Obviously, the Mountain communities will need all the help they can get. Immediately and later.

In the meantime, basic facts matter a lot. We just need to know what the situation is so that we can make rational decisions.

I’m only getting bits and pieces of information from other people such as Newland is flooded and the National Guard is there; mud slides block the Eagles nest community from getting out; the road to Boone is washed out…”

An outro from slayfk: This is not a unique story. Towns all across Appalachia and the southeast states are cut off from the world or utterly decimated. Asheville is the most notable, but there’s also Chimney Rock NC, Marshall NC, Junaluska NC, Swannanoa NC, Biltmore Village NC, and more. Entire towns are ruined. People are trapped. People are trapped with no way to escape and they don’t know what’s going to happen to them. People are starving, animals are starving, 600 people are missing and 100 people are dead.

Appalachia is suffering. No one in power cares.

Talk about us. Donate to rescuers and aid funds. Don’t let the government sweep us under the rug again. We are here and we need help.

[gemini-magic17]

Entanglement Chapter Two

"The Princess's name is Kit and she is a remarkable young woman Y/n", my mother said.

"Is that why you want me to marry her or is it to the benefit of Father and you", I said.

"This would be to the benefit of our kingdom and theirs. Your marriage to Kit Tanthalos will provide unity and prosperity. I know you have reservations about this but I felt the same way about your father when I found out I was going to marry him. Now look at us we are happy and I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else", she smiles.

"Well I am happy for you mother but you don't know that I will have the same thing as father and you or something even remotely close with Kit."

"How do you know if you don't give it a try Y/n? All I want is for you to be happy and loved. That's all I have ever wanted for you", my mother says sincerely.

"I know and I will try my best to do my duty," I smiled at her.

"Thank you for at least agreeing to try this. I'm so proud of you and the woman you have become. I will see you first thing in the morning, we leave at noon."

We wish each other good night and she makes her way to her rooms. Preparing for bed I still can't get that prophecy out of my head or better yet than dragons even existed. I mean hearing stories of them is one thing but knowing that they were real once upon a time is crazy. I just feel like there has to be more to this and need to find out what it all means.

Blowing out the candles and settling into bed sleep came easy to Y/n that night even though she was still plagued by the events that happened earlier that day.

** The Next Day

After loading everything aboard the ship we set sail to Tir Asleen. Seeing as it would be around five days before we get there I grabbed the books from the library that I had yesterday. Not having much to do and still worried about my betrothal I focused on the ancient text. Flipping through the book to see if I could find more about it there was nothing else written. Being frustrated I went up to the dock only to find my brother and father arguing over something trivial.

"What are you two fighting about now", I asked.

"Our dear father thinks it is a good idea for me not to challenge any of the people in Tir Aisleen when I am training", James says outraged.

"Father, why would you ask that of him? You know how he is with it comes to his training."

"As your father, it is my responsibility to make sure that you do not do something that will get you in trouble or someone else killed", my father exclaimed.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!? ARE YOU AFRAID I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE"?

"YES! Son, you train as if it is life or death and not training. I mean do you not remember what you did to your sister."

"That was an accident it was not intentional", I said to James defense.

"It does not matter you were seriously hurt that day and I will not risk the chance of your brother repeating history. From the time we are in Tir Asleen you will only train with those with Ser Easton or our guards. Do you understand"?

"Yes Father I understand completely", James said furiously.

Stomping away James made his way to the compartments and my father went to talk with the captain. I walk toward the front of the boat staring ahead at what seems to be like an endless vast of water. So many things racing through my mind I can't seem to think straight. Until I settled on whether or not the marriage to the princess and I would be at least somewhat pleasant. I would be leaving home and spending my life somewhere that would be completely new. Having no comforts of home, no family, and friends I would be alone. At the thought of this, a few stray tears fall from my eyes without me realizing. Hearing someone approaching I wipe my tears and turn around.

"Oh! Hello, Ser Easton how are you today"?

"I am well princess. I would ask how you are but it seems not to well as it looks like you have been crying", he says with concern in his voice.

"I am scared of what will become of this situation and me. What happens if Kit does not like me? After all, I can be a handful according to my mother."

"Might I remind you your mother did not say you were a handful she said that you are a fiery, intellectual, and courageous young woman. If Kit Tanthalos cannot see that then she is not someone who you need in your life."

"Well, it is not like I have a choice in the matter. I told my mother I would try though. I just hope that the relationship that Kit and I will have might be happy", I smiled with some optimism showing.

"I'm sure you two will have a happy union."

**Across the sea in Tir Asleen

Deep in the woods Jade and I were training and as usual, I was winning her. With the clash of my sword, I deflected her attack and knocked her on her back. With her on the ground, I climbed on top of her and we both began laughing.

"Aren't you tired of me knocking you on your ass Jade? It has got to be getting old at this point", I laugh.

"You never know I could just be letting you win to boost your ego", Jade says sarcastically and laughs.

"Yeah keep telling yourself that."

Looking into her eyes I slowly lean in and that is when my lips met hers.

It must have been a while since we first started to kiss because I started to feel like I couldn't breathe. I pull away to catch my breath and before I know it the words just came out.

"I love you", I said.

"I love you too Kit. Always have always will."

Once we had finished we made our way back to the castle. The whole time I couldn't stop smiling at her as well as what she had said to me. Making our way into the castle Airk came up to me.

"What do you want Airk", I said.

"I just thought you would like to know mom wants to see you", he said.

"Why? What does she want"?

"I don't know she didn't tell me. All I know is that she is in your bedroom and said it was of great importance."

"Oh great another thing for me to deal with", I groaned.

" Do you want me to come with you Kit", Jade asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Plus I get the feeling this has to do with something that is just between me and her. I see you later", giving her a smile and heading off.

Arriving at my door stop before going trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever she has to say. Opening the doors she is standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded.

"There you are Kit I have been looking for you all day. Then I figured you were probably off training somewhere", my mom said.

"Yes, I was. What is it you wanted to talk about."

"Alright, I will just cut to the point then. I have made a betrothal between you and Princess Y/n Ravaryn of Zemira", she said.

"WHAT!!!!"

[mamawasatesttube]

38 for the dialogue prompt… maybe with some bart and kon?

also prompted by an anon!

38. "I'm going to be sick."

There are upsides to getting sent to New Orleans to deal with a surprise villain attack, starring Metallo. Like the pecan pralines from this one shop near the French Quarter that Wally has never shut up about since Bart's known him. Or the cajun fries. Or the beignets.

There are also downsides. Like the heat and the humidity. Seriously, how does anyone live down here? Running interference, and then helping with cleanup, has never been sweatier. Why'd that asshole have to damage so many buildings, anyway?

At least Café du Monde is still intact. Rob promised he'd buy everyone beignets and coffee when everything's settled, and Bart's gonna hold him to that.

...Except that right now, he kinda doesn't want to eat. Probably 'cuz it's so hot out. But it is kinda weird to not be hungry after a big battle.

Oh well. Shit needs doing, so shit's gotta get done, and Bart's gonna be a shit-doer. He chugs some tepid water from the bottle at his hip, grimaces as nausea pulses through his stomach, and starts to run again.

Five minutes later, his legs give out.

It comes as a shock: one moment he's moving some debris to free a couple trapped cars in an alleyway, and the next, his leg cramps up so bad that for a second he swears he's just gotten shot again, and he goes crashing to the ground before he even realizes he's falling.

What the fuck?!

Sweaty, exhausted, nauseous, in pain, and miserable, Bart gives up. Something's wrong, but he can't figure out what. Someone else can handle that; he digs his thumbs into the meat of his calf and whines, "Kooooon..."

A whoosh of air and a red, blue, and black blur drop out of the sky almost instantly. Kon, damn his Kryptonian genes, isn't sweating at all; his cyan gaze pierces right through Bart as he drops to his knees next to him. "Imp! What's the matter?"

Bart groans, stomach churning. His leg still hurts like a bitch. "I think," he says, "I'm gonna be sick." He whines again.

Kon's eyes widen. He reaches for Bart's shoulders to help him sit up, then hisses. "Shit, dude, you're burning up! Have you had any water?"

Bart nods miserably. Now why the hell is he shivering? That seems wrong. Uuugghhh, he's so nauseous. "Jus' a minute ago. Made me feel more sick. I don't think water's supposed to do that. It's just so fucking hoooot..."

"Oh, man. Okay. I think you're overheating, buddy." Kon exhales slowly; the air he blows out over Bart's face is blessedly cool, and Bart almost topples over from his precarious sitting position just trying to lean further into it. "Yup, okay. Gotta get you somewhere cooler."

"But... the cleanup," Bart balks.

"Dude." Kon gives him a disappointed look—aw, beans, that's his disappointed Ma Kent look. Bart would squirm under his gaze, if he wasn't so close to puking. "It's, like, literally a hundred and ten degrees out, and super humid, and you've always run hot even without strenuous shit like a villain fight. Muscle cramps? Nausea? Feeling faint? Classic symptoms of heat exhaustion."

As he speaks, he gathers Bart up in his arms; Bart whines again, just to reiterate that this sucks balls, but then a tendril of TTK works its way along his cramping leg and presses in against his aching muscle just right, and he shuts up instantly. Fuuuck, that feels good.

"What are you?" he mumbles, a full second or two late. "WebMD? Why do you know all that off the top of your head?"

Kon snorts. He blows cool air against Bart's sticky forehead again, rising into the air in a smooth arc (Bart appreciates that, because neither of them would have a good time if he emptied his stomach all over them both mid-flight). "Imp, c'mon. They programmed field medicine into my head back in the tube, man."

"Oh." Bart huffs. "That makes sense." He lets his head loll against Kon's shoulder as Kon picks up speed; the Mississippi River sparkles in the sun far below. "Where're we going?"

"Back to base," Kon answers. The air up here is cooler; Bart sighs in relief. "You're gonna sit in a cool shower, and I'm getting you some Gatorade."

Kon's always so good at taking care of him, Bart thinks. His leg already feels way better. Of course, he can't just say that normally. "Okay, mom."

Kon scoffs. "Excuse me for being a good friend who worries about you!"

"You're excused," Bart assures him, closing his eyes.

For a few moments, the whistling of the wind is the only sound. Then Bart heaves a massive sigh.

"Hey, Kon?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"I still want beignets later. Can you make sure Rob remembers?"

Kon's rumble of laughter reverberates through his chest as the clouds pass them by. "Yeah, Imp," he promises. "I'll be sure to let him know."

[castlebyersafterdark]

But it's one that just makes me go 🫤 when I think too hard about certain scenes haha

Oh, totally agree about the V formation being cheesy! it's one of my least favourite things about the show and why I almost consider s3 onwards to actually be a different show in some ways. perhaps they felt that because the characters were facing such strange phenomena, it called for a more cinematic visual blocking. but oddly it removes the sense of tension in the show, which is regular folk vs. supernatural.

I often wonder if they intended to make the show like this always, but simply didnt have the budget in the early days, which makes me sad - I'm someone who thinks constraints, especially in budget, are what call for heightened creativity and skill. S1 has amateurish moments, but the lack of fancy camerawork is actually what gives it the lived in feeling i think. and i love that. i'm an asymmetrical fan as well, so the centrism freaks me out a bit. centering needs respect and its very hard to do well! there's a thing called the rule of thirds you may know, where you split the screen into three and place objects of focus on either the left or right third. this is used beautifully when byler have their little chat on top of the car.

and yes, doe-eyed will is always wonderful no matter the lens. I also really like how the lighting team have never tried to hide either noah or finn's ethnic features. i love that noah as will has genuine spots in the opening close up of him painting. the skin texture is so lovely to see on screen when so often, excessive makeup is used. i appreciate that ST looks very natural when it comes to skin and hair. this is also why i enjoy the lame ass haircuts! the boys in the latest pic? theyre so lame its wonderful. love them so much.

That damn V formation - it's just not interesting or clever camera work! I adore the show and don't have very many drastic complaints about story-telling - a few, but not to get into here. There are some things like blocking that I personally would have done differently. It feels less authentic than it could be. Like of course it's a television show, but the goal is to immerse the audience. Believe it's real. Suspend our disbelief. Certain scenes and the way the actors are standing or reacting remind me it's actors acting and it takes me out of it. Like I know I'm watching television. Cheesy, I know, but that's the magic of filmmaking.

The style shift is so controversial. And I also wonder if it was intentional or not. Budget, increased scale, representing a change in the world expanding - it's not a small town mystery anymore and it can't stay that way if it was to always be a multi-season series by nature of the elements introduced. A lot prefer season 1 to anything else and - agree. Blows everything else out of the water by means of Stranger Things being so fresh and unique. But it had to go bigger, because of what they hinted at giving us. They have a story involving this extensive, mysterious other world, another dimension. It wasn't just a missing kid and a monster in the woods. They have this secretive, expansive government agency. It could never truly be small town contained. It had to go bigger to now go smaller, back to the roots. The entwining of the bigger picture back to the small town. It's all been a journey. But - yeah. Not everything is as seamless as it could be sometimes. Agree agree.

Rule of thirds, of course. Better, more dynamic framing is just more interesting to look at. Some staging looks like a movie poster. Fake. Stuff that's asymmetrical I personally feel is easier to look at on screen. Centering should be for emphasis. Ooooh the desert car scene. Gorgeous. I need to do a skim through of the show and post some of my favorite shots compared to stuff that I think gives me pause to exemplify this conversation. It's a really interesting one. Yall should share any favorite shots/scenes from the show - purely on image and aesthetic - to see what might resonate with viewers who are into that sort of topic! I definitely have some favorites. See, when the show is clever, it's soooo visually interesting but the low point choices are pretty eye rolling to compare hahaha. And that's ok. We love it and its imperfections.

And yesssss, they've done right by these actors/characters. Appearance wise (other than the occasionally questionable wig choices) I think the show's done a great job at allowing the characters to be authentic and real. They do that really well. And yes!! The natural skin! I kind of loved that too with Will. Authenticity is great on screen. It doesn't need to be fake. Real people, real characters. ❤️

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Strange pairs in odd junctions create beautiful things. This work briefly overlaps with Orpheus, Don't Turn Around (i know you will, you always do)

Part 6 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(Chapter 1 under cut)

Chapter 1: Heartbeats in the Shape of Stab Wounds

Summary: Tick, tick, tick-

“People say hate is a wasted emotion, a destructive force you can do nothing useful with. They’re wrong. I’ve gripped rage, I’ve wielded it like a weapon.”

- The Corset (Laura Purcell)

“How’s the eye?” Clarisse asks, leaning back on two chair legs. As if it isn’t incredibly obvious. 

“Blind,” Silena replies bluntly from where she’s reorganizing her medical supplies, making the other girl splutter into the glass of water she took an ill-advised drink from. “Put all four legs on the floor, Clair, before you eat it. Or worse, break something else.”

“Gods-” she gasps, but obeys. “What the fuck?”

“No point in beating around the bush.” Never had been, not since she woke up with warped vision and a gut wrenching certainty. Not since she had to spend six months retraining herself how to pick up a fork without missing.

“Fair enough I guess but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be that blunt about it.” 

“Dancing around doesn’t change the truth.” She’s had to relearn how to survive, compensating for a picture that isn’t complete anymore.

“You’ve changed.”

“What’s with that tone?”

“I can’t tell…” Clarisse says slowly, scrutinizing, “if it’s for the better.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t have to live with me. I do. So how you categorize my change doesn’t matter. Only mine does.” Silence ticks by in the beats of their hearts, eyes never wavering from one another. Sizing each other up, identifying weak points and escape routes. Old habits never really die, do they?

“What are you doing, Silena?” Clarisse murmurs eventually, standing up and setting the water aside.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you doing in Gotham? This isn’t a game.”

“Neither was the Titan War.” If Clarisse thinks she can intimidate her into cowering, standing down, or backing off, she’s in for a rude awakening. 

“Yeah, no shit. But Gotham?”

“Where else could I go where everyone would leave me the fuck alone?”

“The wilderness?” Clarisse gestures wildly, to everything and nothing. “Literally anywhere but here?”

“Too many monsters, everywhere but here,” Silena snarks, sticking a new bottle of saline into the closet next to a suturing kit.

“The fucking Joker is here.”

“The Joker isn’t looking for a pound of demigod flesh to make his next meal. He’s not an issue.” Especially if Jason has his way, he’ll be in the grave soon enough.

“Maybe not, but Black Mask is definitely trying to hunt the vigilante that you’re fucking. Red Hood? Really?”

“Clarisse.”

“Silena.” Clarisse’s shoulders slump and she blows a frustrated breath out of her nose. “Seriously, you are playing with fire.”

“Believe it or not, I am aware of that.”

“So why aren’t you stopping? Keeping him close is a death sentence.” The implication from the mouth of a person who doesn't know him makes her vision go red. She’s not sure if the bile and asphalt she’s swallowing is her own anger or Clarisse’s jealousy.

“Because I love him.” Definitely from Clarisse, the taste of pitch intensifies at the admission. It’s the brutal truth, in all its ugly beauty. She loves Jason and as long as he keeps coming back to her, to the sanctuary she’s made here in the pits of Hell, she’ll welcome him home. Come what may. 

“Right.” Clarisse looks away, chewing her lip. It’s a gooey taste, that jealousy. Silena hates the texture more than the flavor. “That.” 

“Yeah.” Silena puts more bandages into, clicking her tongue reflexively, like that will dissipate the unpleasant taste of tar. It lingers at the back of her tongue all the same, because she cannot rid herself of something that is not hers. She places another bandage in the plastic bin, frowning as she notices the visible dent this whole… event has made in her supplies. Should I go back out? Should I risk-

A thud against the brick makes them both jump, Clarisse at the ready and in front of Silena in a second flat, despite her hissed breathing. 

It takes another breath for her to relax and snort in annoyance.

“Your boy is here.” More tar. 

“Stop.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Clarisse scoffs.

“Yes, you are.” Her fists clench around a box of Band-Aids, crushing the cardboard. “Stop it.”

“What do I need to stop?”

“ Feeling ,” Silena hissed, screwing her eyes shut and the cardboard tears right alongside her patience. “I can taste how much you hate him, Clarisse, and I swear on the-” she cuts herself off before she finishes that destructive thought.

“I-” Clarisse touches the back of Silena’s neck, a fleeting thing. “I don’t know how to stop.” 

The thud sounds again. Silena pushes out of the closet and shoves past the once-immovable statue of the daughter of Ares. It takes a well placed poke that makes Clarisse bend away with a gasp, but Silena manages. A dick move, a low blow, a thousand other awful things, but gods damn it all-

“Figure it out or get out. I’m not going to live like that in my own damn house.” Anger propels her from Clarisse’s side, but by the time she reaches the window where Jason is sitting, she’s tired. Tired enough to ignore the smoke, the ash, the dirt painted over him in a thin layer. Whatever he did tonight didn’t go well.

Leading him inside is the easiest thing in the world. Everything and everyone else keeps telling her to be careful, to watch her step, everyone but him. He looks at her with haunted eyes that can’t believe she’s real and he lets her take his weight without question as she guides him to wash his deeds away. Allows her to scrub away the blood from his scrapes and sit in pensive silence.

Lets her care for him, love him, even if he can’t say it, or you’ll get killed.

Well, even if she does die, at least she can say she lived first. At least she’s doing what she wants, and not playing someone else’s game.

“I love you,” she tells a man who can and should kill her but constantly stays his hand. “I love you.” Because he needs to hear it and she needs to say it because even when she’s swallowing awful things, there is something there that tastes like the purest flame, cleansing everything and it’s overwhelming as his tears wet her skin. 

When she kisses his hands, all she tastes is love.

—

“I have to check,” he argues in the light of day, all their confessions left behind in the dead of night. “He fucking got away! Someone has to hunt him down and it sure fucking won’t be Bruce!” 

“Does it have to be you?” she shouts back. “Does it have to be now? You were caught in an explosion less than twelve hours ago, Jason!”

“Yes, it does, because no one else will do it! They’ll just put him back in Arkham and this damn cycle will keep going-”

“You are hurt and you want to go back out there?” she demands. “You can’t even wait a single day?”

“I waited long enough,” he shoots back. “I should have followed him, instead of coming here at all-”

“And done what? Collapsed in a ditch until Black Mask found you? Found him and then succumbed to injury? Found him and he had company? Tell me, what should you have done, Jason?”

“I could have ended this! You wouldn’t be in danger if I hadn’t come here and now you’re trying to stop me from-”

“From fixing a hypothetical problem?” she cuts him off. 

“It’s not hypothetical when it’s your life on the line!” he snarls back, stepping closer and towering over her but she didn’t give in to Clarisse, she’s not going to give in to him either. Not if it keeps him alive, which he seems intent on not being . 

“Are you that determined to get yourself killed to prove a point?” Silence meets her yell, Jason blinking at her like he’s never had anyone question his sometimes wild risks, his insane decisions, his impulsive fuck it we ball mentality. Like hell that’s gonna fly now. Most of the time, he’s very particular. 

But now is not most. 

Now, he’s running out like a deranged and half feral racoon intent on war crimes. He has been since the night she came clean.

“Jason,” her voice breaks. “Please, please at least wait. You’re hurt.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers, face set and determined, the scar slicing up the side of his head crossing perfectly with a shadow from the window that makes it look like the slash is a hollow void across his face. She’s looking into his mind, tasting his love and his hate and his violence and she’s going to puke- “I’ve waited too long.”

“Is your pride worth your life?”

“It’s not my life I care about-”

“That’s the problem !” and she’s screaming again, unable to stop the tears, I finally get something good and now the gods want to rip it away. Cruel enough to frame it as his own choice, nothing more than a machination of the Fates- “I care about your life, Jason! I care about your life! Please, please , don’t do this-”

“Do you care about my life because it’s mine or because you’ve killed someone in my place before?” 

It’s dead silent, in her head and her home. Jason’s eyes widen and she thinks she tastes the static shock of panic, but really, she can’t taste much of anything. Death maybe, because the dead can’t taste at all so that’s what death has to taste like. Nothing. Like Charlie’s body. Gone. Ash. 

The ringing in her ears doesn’t stop the tidal wave of betrayal . She’d bared her heart to him and this was how he used it? Turned around to plant a knife right into her gut and tear downwards, sentencing her to long and painful demise? Her heart on a platter and he’d thrown the whole thing out a window by even daring to suggest-

All because she wanted him safe. Because she wanted him alive and not dead in an alley with a Glasgow smile carved into his cheeks alongside that horrid little J, undeniable brands of a monster. But he won’t listen to her-

Oh, a long forgotten little whisper beckons her, warm, welcoming, an old friend, but he will. Open your mouth, and he will.

Inhaling, she lets the sweet warmth fill her mouth, pressing against the seal of her lips as she stares him down as his mouth opens and closes in slow motion. One little word. If she says no…

You can stop him. One little breath, a small slit in her lips, and he won’t go. It’d be so easy , just one word.

His eyes are glazed already, a riot of emotions crossing his face at lightning speed. One word, and all that would fade, go lax, return to the calm of I’m right, just listen to me and it will be okay and he’d stay here, with her-

“Anna-” It’s a bucket of ice water. Anna, spoken in a hoarse voice that sounded so ruined. Anna, who isn’t a person, who hasn’t betrayed him time and time again. Anna, who smiled and spun him around and loved him and laughed and cried, Anna, Anna, Anna-

I’m not Anna.

Anna would never consider this. The play is over she’d told him, the curtain closed and the encore of tears had died down. But, to him, she had always been Anna, not whatever hateful thing is clawing in her chest now, that cloying whisper she recognizes and has given into so many times before.

Her lips stay shut.

She can be Anna one more time. She can ignore that voice, she can let him keep his mind. She can play pretend, one more time.

Even if it costs his life.

Whirling around before she can reconsider, she retreats to her last bastion of safety, the only surefire way no one can follow her. Running to her bedroom, she slams the door, ensuring he won’t follow and neither will Clarisse.

Pressing her ear to the door, she listens to them argue. She listens to them leave. Peeling away from the wood, she shakes out her hair, walks over to her vanity and glares at her reflection before taking a deep breath and grabbing her makeup bag. There’s a few outfits she’s been saving for a special occasion, and this certainly applies.

Gotham is Red Hood’s playground, but Silena Beauregard is a spy. She’s one of the masses, a smiling face who too many people like. Pretty enough to turn heads, non-threatening enough to fade from memory. In the right clothes, walking the right street, talking to the right people, she’ll learn more than any torturer. It’s a skill she perfected years ago and a good spy never lets their skills die.

A good spy always has an eye peeled for good places to find information and Silena’s web spreads farther than anyone else knows, hidden along cracks in Gotham’s concrete and growing taller alongside the weeds. Years of keeping herself alive here have taught her where to look.

Recapping her lipstick, Silena rolls her neck with a pop and bares her teeth. A wolf amongst sheep, a smiling face amongst an unsuspecting crowd. 

She can’t stop Jason from hunting down the Joker.

But she can get to him first.

[walkedlegacy-closed]

what is their favorite exhibit at an aquarium?

what does their breakfast look like?

what gaming console was the first one they ever played?

is there a small habit that they do every day?

what color was their childhood bedroom?

what is their favorite wine / liquor?

what's their guilty pleasure tv show?

ANSWERED ASK : ( timeguardians )

okay , thiis is gonna be a long post , because i can never seem to answer these simply , but i wanted to get this one out so i didn't have two of these sitting in my asks. okay . . . got your note taking tools out?? good! lets roll!

HEADCANON QUESTIONS.

WHAT IS THEIR FAVORITE EXHIBIT AT AN AQUARIUM?

oooooo a good one to start off with. anya really liked the aquarium and all the sea creatures since she was a kid. well , aquarium , zoo , it didn't matter. if she was looking at animals she was always a happy girl. she loves everything about the aquarium if i'm being honest , and her favorites have changed over the years. when she was a little girl , she loved visiting the areas where they had the big massive schools of fish. she'd marvel at the shimmering of the scales and all the pretty colors , while her parents explained how they use teamwork to survive. when she got older , her favorite became the shark exhibit. she really enjoys sharks and learning about them and even wants to swim with one someday. ( despite the many ways she knows it would go wrong ) and after she has kids , she finds a special love for the touching pool , she loves taking the kids to the aquarium and watching them learn about the world around them.

WHAT DOES THEIR BREAKFAST LOOK LIKE?

coffee is always part of it , no exceptions ( except when she was pregnant. it was a nightmare ) and a glass of orange juice as well for a drink. her job is everything to her , and she makes sure she has the diet to support it. whole wheat toast with avocado spread on it , with usually what is a scramble made up of eggs , green peppers , mushrooms and onions. she keeps a nutrition guide the fire department released so she has a grocery list she can refer to , but she's had this diet since her parents would allow her to even have a diet. she switches it up sometimes with a yogurt and granola option if she knows bobby is going to have breakfast for the house , in which case it's whatever bobby makes , and on the way out she has a smoothie with her she makes every morning consisting of spinach , mixed berries , some sort of whey protein , avocado oil , and water.

WHAT GAMING CONSOLE WAS THE FIRST ONE THEY EVER PLAYED?

the barnes household was always mostly a playstation household , and was the first console anya ever played with her brother , and it was taking turns playing spyro. they fell in love but anya didn't really latch onto video games right away , being a little too wiggly for them. she eventually found an appreciation for them , and even plays them now to blow off steam , and is pretty good at it. ( her and jamie like to game to blow off steam together after long shifts or when they can't sleep. )

IS THERE A SMALL HABIT THEY DO EVERYDAY?

every morning when she wakes up she sends a text to her partner to say good morning before she does anything else. she checks the family chat. due to the fact that her grandparents are so old , the family has a chat for in case anything needs to be done by the younger members of the family. ( the organization in that family only exists because otherwise there would be chaos. ) and she won't start the day until she's gotten back from her morning run. she only ever misses her run when she's injured in various points of the timeline. as part of her romanian heritage , when she became a firefighter , her grandmother gave her a horseshoe keychain to put on her key ring. in the romanian culture , horseshoes mean wealth and prosperity. so as she walks into the firehouse for her shift , she makes sure to give that keychain a good rub. ( yes . . . she is superstitious. )

WHAT COLOR WAS THEIR CHILDHOOD BEDROOM?

ORANGE! her room was always a very gender neutral room , and as a baby anya was a very happy child. she liked colors like yellow and orange. things that looked like the sun. she changed her color scheme a bit as she grew older.

WHAT IS THEIR FAVORITE WINE/LIQUOR?

she's a vodka girl. given that she's russian and romanian , that isn't too much of a surprise. she'll take it usually in a vodka cranberry , unless she's having a stressful day , in which case she'll take it in shot form. there is always a bottle of stolichnaya ( or stolis coming from her or her family ) and just about every house in her family has it as well ( her grandfather is a big fan of the stuff. ) for wine , she's not too picky , but she does like a nice red if you're trying to impress , ability to pair wine with food though is more impressive to her than having her favorite. ( she's had red wine with fish , while its her favorite . . . not good. )

WHAT IS THEIR GUILTY PLEASURE TV SHOW?

brooklyn 99 is her guilt pleasure show , though she really doesn't have a show she's guilty about watching. if she's had some to drink though , she likes screaming at real housewives of la ( if it's not a thing it is in this verse ) and when jamie is over they turn on cops and get drunk while watching.

[tvxcue]

i really am spending too much time thinking abt a hypothetical kpop animal representative competition but it would be so funny

[lorre-verie]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡. 4 ࿐ྂ 

summary: Ao’nung’s unbridled and seemingly nonsensical rage causes him to do the dumbest thing you’ve ever seen him do in your entire 15 years of living. The next time you talk to Neteyam, you realise it is you who must pay for the weight of your brother’s crimes.

word count: 2.1k

pairings: neteyam x gn! Ao’nung’s older twin! Reader

warnings: sadness, ao’nung and reader reconciling, i think there’s cussing somewhere, more sadness

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | masterlist

“You’ve struck me down and thrown away my heart, and you dare laugh?” Neteyam grasped at his chest, mimicking heartbreak. You laughed harder at his amusing behaviour. He kept finding ways to cheer you up, and you were grateful to him for it. 

The day after Ao’nung’s outburst, you came to Neteyam for comfort. You were both sitting on a tiny sandy island just a little ways from Awa’atlu, cracking jokes and teaching each other stuff.

He had taught you some more english lingo, and you taught him how to swim faster. Not too fast though, you worried that if you taught him too well he’d be faster than you. 

You never told him about what Ao’nung had said the other night, you just wanted him to make you feel like everything was going to be okay again. You had gotten used to his presence and the way he made a deep buzzing sound in your heart.

“Okay okay, what’s a playboy again?” you tried to comprehend the language, but there were just so many rules and confusing terms. “A playboy is a guy who can get a lot of people pining for him, you know, like me,” he smiled smugly.

You laughed, slapping his elbow at his amazingly stupid words.“Yeah, right! The only person you talk to aside from your family is me! And I don’t like you in that way,” you retorted, stifling the rest of your laugh. 

“Really?” he frowned, before leaning in closer to you, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Wanna test that theory?” he smiled. 

This was the second time Neteyam had been this close, the distance between you two threatening to close ever so suddenly like a door in a room with an open window. You wanted to kiss him, but it just felt too soon. 

You placed a hand gently on his chest, about to push him away, but before you could the sounds of an ilu splashing out of the water caught both your attention. Ao’nung leered at you two with immeasurable anger behind his eyes, something that Neteyam hadn’t been able to catch. 

“Hey fish lips, give us some space, yeah?” Neteyam called out to him with a grin on his face. With that you quickly pushed Neteyam away, getting up on your feet. “Ao’nung,” you put your two hands out as if to defend yourself,  “this isn’t what it looks like.”

Neteyam looked confused at your statement. He was still sitting down, looking at how Ao’nung practically leapt off the ilu, taking heavy steps towards you with a scowl on his face. “Really?” your brother spat. “Your excuses are getting lamer and lamer as the days go by, Y/N.” 

Your ears flattened, clenching your jaw. “Ao’nung, let’s go talk somewhere else.” you avoided Neteyam’s gaze, continuing to look at your younger twin.

“No. We can talk right here, in front of him.” Ao’nung pointed at the still bewildered omaticayan who was getting up, his finger trembling with fury.

“Fine!” you snapped. “I still don’t get why you’re so hung up about me and Tsireya liking people. It’s not that serious!” 

“It’s not about you liking people.” he snarled. “It’s about you liking them. They aren’t one of us!”

“Why the hell does that matter!” you shouted back. Your brother’s eyes widened when the foreign word spilled out of your mouth, before his expression turned hard.

“He’s brainwashing you.” he whispered to himself, as if he had come to a mind blowing realisation. 

“Y/N, he’s one of those demons, we can’t trust them!” as he got closer to you, you backed away before Neteyam stopped him by the shoulder. “Don’t get any closer,” he warned, his voice low. 

“Get off me, demon.” Ao’nung spat, grabbing Neteyam’s arm and throwing it off his own shoulder, seemingly appalled at the touch. 

“I’ve already gotten rid of your brother, don’t make me do the same to you–” he stopped mid sentence, as if caught off guard. His body froze, lips still parted. 

A short moment of silence followed that was almost unbearable. 

“What did you say?” Neteyam spoke up, eyes turned to slits. Ao’nung couldn’t answer him, his frightened eyes fixed on you. You inhaled deeply, suppressing the anger that boiled under your skin. If your little brother had meant what he just said, he was in for it now. 

“Ao’nung,” you seethed, your voice low.

“What did you do?”

(this would be a VERY appropriate time to play slipping through my fingers by ABBA)

You watched silently as Neteyam dragged your brother by the kuru, bringing him to his father. “Tell him what you told me,” he practically growled, tugging on Ao’nung’s kuru. Your brother fell silent for a bit, before confessing what he’d done.

He’d told the father of the boy he’d just doomed that he tricked his son into going out of the reef, leaving him to fend for himself for a ‘joke.’

The sky felt like it was crumbling as you sat there, legs dangling at the edge of your marui, watching people leave and return on their ilus in a desperate search for Neteyam’s brother. You were to stay back and assist any affairs unrelated to his disappearance, an order met by your protests at first.

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, the feeling of someone’s tenseness radiating through the air. “Ao’nung.” you called out, and you imagined him stiffening. “Come,” you patted the spot next to you. “Sit.” 

Reluctantly, he dragged his heavy body towards you, sitting down without a word. He had expected you to start scolding him, to start screaming at him for his stupidity, but instead, 

you snaked your arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards you. 

“I don’t know what reason you had for doing what you did, but I just want you to know,” he sucked in a breath, awaiting his damnation. 

“You’re going to be alright,” you smiled softly, nudging his head to rest on your shoulder. 

Huh?

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when the time comes, I’ll be here for you.” 

He was utterly baffled. 

What were you doing? 

Trying to guilt him into apologising? 

Because you didn’t need to do that, he already would have to pay for his stupid crime for the rest of his life. He wanted to lift his head up, to reject your reassurance,

but he just couldn’t. 

Instead, a single tear flowed down his cheek, landing softly on your skin. 

With your hand placed softly on his shoulder, you rest your head upon his, gently rubbing soothing circles into his tense muscles.

“Y/N! The meanies kept on picking me today!” a tiny Ao’nung cried to you, his tears soaking your shoulder as he cried on it. 

“Shh, baby bro. It’s going to be alright,” a little you hugged him tightly, leading him to sit where you both were sitting right now. 

The silence was filled with his sniffles, both past and present. 

“You’re going to be alright.” both little you and present you whispered, shutting your eyes tightly and squeezing his shoulder. 

The memory of the promise you made to him rushed back to you, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Despite being twins, he was much smaller than you at the time, which made him an easy target for others to tease. 

Although the teasing was meant to be lighthearted, he struggled to find the humour in it, which was kind of ironic now. 

“Nung,” the small you said, a serious look in your eyes. 

You smiled to yourself, remembering your slurred words. You were only 5 years old at the time, your sentences barely coherent to adults. But being twins, you could understand each other perfectly.

“I will protect you, always.” 

“No matter what?”

“No matter what. 

nothing can ever, 

ever, 

take me away from you,

I. promise.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you realised, you had already broken that promise many times over.

Each time you retreated to your private little sanctuary, avoiding your problems, you were also avoiding him. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was not escaping from your duties that made you guilty, but it was escaping from your brother.

You recollected a memory of returning home from a little escapade, having spent the time climbing trees. This was when you were 7, before you’d even found the cave. 

As you arrived back home, you saw your mother attending to Ao'nung, who had a deep cut on his arm, crying loudly. A tiny Tsireya was there too, offering comfort by holding his hand. Apparently, it happened while he was in the water alone. “He said he wasn’t watching where he was going, and knocked into a rock,” your mother explained.

But the fear and confusion in his eyes as he looked up at you told you otherwise.

You never got to find out what truly happened, because you never really cared to ask. You were too obsessed with finding your own free time. 

Unbeknownst to you, a dark silhouette creeped by the entrance of your marui. It leered at you comforting your little brother, ears flicking with contempt as it heard your small reassurances.

It's not your fault,

I’m so sorry,

Everything will be fine.

And as soon as the shadow appeared, it was gone. 

Lo’ak came back past eclipse with one of your own people who’d found him just within the reef, you were able to hear the relieved sighs of your parents and his own as he approached the island. 

You stood behind your father, his hand firmly on the back of Ao’nung’s neck. Lo’ak had a look of pure anger on his face when he looked at your brother, like he wanted to punt him in the face, only to be stopped by his father as he stomped up onto the woven deck. 

Jake Sully inspected his son, checking his back for any bruises. “He’s fine, just a few scratches.” he said loudly, so that the crowd of metkayina would disperse quickly. 

Neytiri hurried from behind the crowd, quickly checking to see that her son was alright. When she confirmed she wasn’t hurt, she quickly scolded him. 

“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” she hissed, making a grabbing motion at Lo’ak’s eye, to which Tsireya next to you winced. 

“No,” your father said, pushing Ao’nung down to kneel. “My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef. The blame is his.”

Jake nodded hesitantly, deciding he didn’t want to cause any more trouble with the Olo’eyktan. “Okay, let’s go.” 

“No.”

“It’s not Ao’nung’s fault,” Lo’ak shook his head, looking up at your father. Ao’nung’s head turned up at this, both you and him (and your mother) were bewildered at this. 

“It was my idea. Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it, really.”

Neteyam put a hand on Lo’ak’s arm, silently asking him with his eyes, What are you doing? He only gave his older brother a glance of the eye to respond.

Your mother and father exchanged looks. They always did this, communicating without even needing to speak to each other. Lo’ak was covering for their son, they knew it. But why, was the question.

Your father pulled up Ao’nung, turning to him. “Is this true?” he asked, disbelief laced between his words. 

Although you admired your parents for their ability to see through such lies, you were also disappointed they didn’t believe their own son could be responsible for one moment. Your eyes darted towards Neteyam who was walking away with his family, and you quickly excused yourself. 

As you approached, however, you heard his parents scolding him. “Where were you?” Neytiri asked. “Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?” Jake said in english, it seemed he noticed you were coming towards them, but he didn’t know you could understand their conversation. 

You gulped, knowing that Neteyam was with you when Lo’ak was led outside the reef. “Sorry sir.” Neteyam muttered. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell from his tone of voice that he was not happy.

Jake and Neytiri left him, Jake nodding to you before he left as some form of greeting. “Neteyam, how are you feeling?” you asked him softly.

He sighed, turning towards you. There was a glint of something you’d never seen before in his eyes, and you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But as he narrowed them, it became clear.

He was glaring at you with utter distaste.

“I don’t feel like talking to you right now.” he said, his tone indicating that his anger was threatening to reach boiling, and you were the cause. 

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach as he stalked away, leaving you wondering. 

What did I do?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | masterlist

Idk what to say except oh no angst 😨 this part is definitely shorter than the others and idk why, it just seemed that this was enough words to convey the message. i THINK that the next part is the finale, but we’ll just have to see. Also if you’ve been reading this series from the start, you’ll notice that all the chapters have undergone a design transformation cause I just thought it looked better <3

Taglist: @strawberryclouds22 @assistantquail @st4rrry @neteyamforlife @heaven1oo4 @spicycloudsalad @1ntefly @laylasbunbunny @fanboyluvr @xoxobabe @thecrazyswamp @amortencjja @lynbubble @jakesullyssluttt @gabithefanwriter @erenjaegerwifee @abbersreads

note: usernames in red are the ones i couldn't tag

[linkspooky]

Hi, I'm a huge fan of your analysis and writing in general! I'm curious as to what your update top 5 favorite characters of all time are.

1. TARA MARKOV / TERRA

The most that bitch of all time. Terra is that bitch. She does not want redemption. She does not want to make friends. She does not want to be saved. She refuses to be what anyone else wants her to be and she refuses to fit any easy narrative for her.

Terra was not my favorite in the cartoon, which is a testament to how good the New Teen Titans comic is that it made her shoot to the top of the list. Terra is the ultimate bad victimTM. She is just as ugly as the abuse that happened to her. It's almost painful to look at the full picture of her, because no matter what she does and how malicious and cruel she is, she still remains undeniably a victim who's not free in any sense of the word.

Terra is not really a person, she's just a ball of negative emotions. She's volatile and always reacting to the people around her. She's basically a minefield inviting you to step on her and blow your legs off. Terra doesn't really have a sense of self but she's not really in a situation where she could mature or develop in any healthy kind of way. She's a runaway and an unstable mercenary selling herself for money. Pretty much anyone would develop into a sociopath to survive in her kind of situation.

There's a panel in New Teen Titans where Terra is telling Starfire and Donna some version of her backstory that's a bit fudged to throw off suspicion from the fact she's spying on them, and Kory and Donna are both like "Well, everyone on the Titans has a traumatic backstory Terra you're not special." And that's what made Terra's character great to me. She's been through the kind of things the rest of the Titans has, and that doesn't magically make her a good person or a hero. She snaps because she's like sixteen and terrible things have happened to her so she becomes terrible. Terra reflects a terrible reality that happens to a lot more teenagers in America, but even teenagers who act like Terra are still deserving of salvation.

2. KUMAGAWA MISOGI

The most loser of all time. Kumagawa is amazing because he turns so many shonen tropes on his head. He doesn't want to get better. He doesn't want to get stronger. He's going to remain the same loser forever, and yet there's something admirable about his character.

The best fictional characters struggle. Kumagawa's life is nothing about struggle. He gives everything he has just treading water and he doesn't succeed. Not only does Kumagawa struggle he has empathy for everyone that's struggling. He's incredibly emotionally unstable but not because he's cold or cruel but because he has so much empathy for the people around him. He cant help but feel and empathize no matter who it is. I am a fan of bad victims and so is Kumagawa.

He builds his entire life philosophy around sympathizing with people who aren't pretty, or righteous, or strong, or brave. He sympathizes with the people who try their hardest and make no progress at all. Kumagawa's philosophy is empower in its own way. Even a person who's absolutely mediocre matters as long as they're trying. Even a miserable life is one you can still smile and struggle to be happy in.

3. SPIKE

The most character development of all time. Spike is such an interesting character because they could have just left him a villain because he was interesting enough as one. Instead, we got him dragged kicking and screaming through a redemption arc.

What makes Spike a good character is that he never gets away with anything. A lot of characters, especially main characters will have flaws that the plot either sands down or ignores to try to make them more appealing and likable. Spike starts out a monster, the other characters know that he's bad, and when he does something wrong he immediately gets his teeth kicked in as punishment. The other people don't forgive him, and there are always consequences.

What makes Spike a great character is that he learns from those consequences. Eventually he reaches a point where he can't continue on the way he has before, and he actually learns to be a better person because the only way to keep living is to keep changing.

4. BUFFY SUMMERS

The most main character of all time. Buffy Summers is what happens when a plot actually tries to challenge it's main character instead of making the world center around them. Buffy believes she's the protagonist of reality, and she's sort of right but that mindset makes her suffer.

Buffy is EXACTLY like all the other girls. She just wants to shop, and watch TV, and talk about boys, but she's randomly been given super powers that she doesn't want. The seven season journey from Buffy acting like a normal hyperactive teenager, to by season seven being a very emotionally remote and distant girl with sky high walls built around her is such fantastic character work.

BTVS is a rare show where the main character is one of the most interesting characters, because the whole show is about the complex way she processes her trauma in response to the nonstop series of disasters that is her life. Buffy has pretty serious flaws, and those flaws get worse because she always has to be a hero which causes her to have a major self-righteous streak. Buffy's such a great character that she makes all the characters around her more interesting because of how well connected with the story. Especially with the way she parallels her jungian shadow, Spike.

5. ENOSHIMA JUNKO

The most Junko of all time. Junko is a character that could get by on sheer force of personality alone. She is extremely entertaining, her dialogue is always an insane riot, she dominates any scene she's in and she's an insanely competent evil mastermind who gets credit alone for being one of the few characters who actually succeeds in her plan to destroy the world.

Junko always wins and that's the problem. Junko is the best-written example of a villain whose motivation is "I did this because I'm bored." Because for Junko, boredom is a soul-crushing apathy that derives her life from any kind of joy or feeling other than numbness. Junko was written to be a one-dimmensional villain with no trace of goodness inside of her. Kodaka could have gotten away with not making her any more of that because she's so effective as a villain.

However, she has more character depth beyond that. If you read her prequel story in "Danganronpa ZERO" you find Junko is the way she is, because it's impossible for her to live a normal life. She doesn't feel like a human being and she feels incapable of connecting with the world or the people around her so she tries to make herself a calamity, a force of nature, despair itself.

[w4rningbutterflies]

they do this song  &  dance because it is something that keeps them alive. it keeps the blood pumping in their veins; they need an outlet because if they don't have one, they will succumb to the fact that they are nothing more than weapons. no one cares if they live or die out on the field, just that they are not taken by enemies because if enemies are the one to get to them, they can harvest titan. they might not know how to use it right away but there is more information out there than they realize  &  they'd have entirely too big of hubris' to presume that they wouldn't figure it out. 

they can't outright rebel against marley; it's nice enough that magath, for all the roughness that he has during training, it softens toward them once they are candidates. once they obtain the titans  &  become weapons, he has the sympathy factor to keep them in line, to realize that they are human above everything else. he doesn't treat them as if they are expendable beings  ––  he covers for them when he can,  &  he allows them the moments to just be free when it comes to going out, settling in for beers  &  coming back far too drunk. he turns a blind eye to it all  ––  simply tells them that if they get caught, it is their problem  &  not his. 

the warning is always clear: that marley still has her eye on them, no matter how much freedom that magath can give them within reason. punishment is always something that can come down hard if they step out of line. she is not lax within them, either. 

so they take the freedom that they are given  &  they make sure that they are back in their dorms or in their homes when curfew hits  ––  &  if they have to sneak in, they have a code for the window being propped open just enough in the blind spot where look outs won't be able to see. 

they are only human,  &  they have human reactions despite the demons that rest inside their souls, despite the monsters that they manage to puppeteer. for as many sins as they think that they hold, reiner can happily lose count on how many they actually hold. so they allow themselves this moment of humanity, even if it comes with gritted teeth  &  the almost promise of a thinly veiled threat of transformation. they haven't come to actual blows since they were children, before they adopted the promise of titans in their blood. 

he doubts that they'll come to actual fists now, but even if they did, the healing abilities within them will make sure that by wake up call, they will be back to pristine condition.

reiner only allows porco the tolerance that he does because he has lost marcel; he has lost the brother that he had presumed would come back from the mission. he understands the hurt behind his nuances, knows that porco isn't in the best mental shape either. unlike reiner, he implodes loudly  &  makes it everyone's problem, because that is the type of person that porco galliard is. reiner implodes quietly, until it chokes him on its smog, until his eyes water  &  he forces himself to breathe in oxygen to douse it all  &  clears away the low hanging clouds.

they are similar, but they are different enough. he thinks that with how porco has grown, it's no wonder that he didn't obtain armored. he is more bark than bite  &  suits the jaws far too well; he digs his skeletal teeth in  &  tastes blood  &  flesh  &  he thrives in the chaos of it all, in the close knit battle of it all. reiner is foolish enough to have the mentality that sacrificing himself is something golden, something good  ––  like it will wipe away so much if he just puts his body on the line. he is meant to be shield  &  nothing more  ––  is powerhouse in his own right, but his specialty rests in shield.

he thinks that porco would be too brash to take on the sort of suicide that is involved in being armored. he prevails well with the anger  &  speed that comes with jaws; short tempered  &  able to get out of whatever situation that he manages to put himself in. 

hearing the reality placed in front of him though makes his throat go dry  &  makes his ears ring in a way that only happens when he feels like control is slipping away. the thought of gabi being the inheritor of the jaws makes his stomach crawl, makes his chest feel uncomfortable like it's trying to break itself apart. she is too young  &  too amicable to the cause that he hates that she is candidate. if it was up to him, she would have never gone into the warrior program. 

but gabi sees it as nothing but PRIDE. she sees him becoming warrior, becoming vice chief,  &  sees where her succession should be. there is no thought that she will have to devour him  ––  between her  &  karina, he isn't sure who is more thrilled with the prospect. as much as he wishes that she wouldn't be candidate, she is in the depth of it now,  &  there is no doubt that she is going to be able to inherit a titan. 

bringing ymir over here wasn't something that he had enjoyed. if he could have, he would've let her live with krista, would've allowed her that simple grace because she deserves it. she's brash  &  out for herself most of the time, but reiner had never wanted her to die. he had never wanted her in their clutches, knowing damn well that she would've never seen krista again. it's uncomfortable in his chest, the guilt of her death; he led her to the slaughter, like a good little soldier. 

he looks at porco  &  realizes that he does not deserve ymir's memories. she deserved to have an honorable death, not to fall into the jaws of another candidate. ymir was brash but she cared in her own way  ––  she was free in spirit  &  bloomed brighter than she had any right to in the moonlight. now she is gone  &  porco has erased her existence,  &  it doesn't feel fair.

reiner doesn't get to dwell on the thought long enough though, doesn't get to have some giant speech in her honor about how great of a person she was, because porco is stepping closer  &  bertolt's name comes free from his mouth. he sees red before he can stop himself, feels that acute pain in his chest that flares  &  makes him grit his teeth.

he slams porco's back against the wall as hard as he dares, feels the impression it leaves in the give of the drywall. his eyes dart along porco's face  &  he feels the blood dribble into his mouth from his teeth biting into his bottom lip; a promise of transformation. the dangerous glint of lightning that bursts into honey eyes. 

he is loose canon. he is deranged warrior. reiner has never fully left that island  &  it's never more prominent than the moments in which bertolt is brought into a conversation, in the pain that erupts like bright purple bruises inside of his heart. 

he should not be here. he should not have been chosen over bertolt. he doesn't understand his worth; the colossus is a much more worthy titan than someone like the armored, can be used in a much more damaging way.  &  yet zeke has chosen him, has decided to parade him around like death that is so promise that his head spins. he waits for guillotine against nape but finds no relief. 

" don't. you don't deserve to say his name. he was worth far more than you will ever be worth, pock. or did you forget that you have been here, twiddling your thumbs in the trenches as a poor little soldier while we were putting our lives on the line every single day on that island? "  it's an exaggeration because they had found nothing more than solace on that island  ––  he had found a family  &  they had cried when bertolt  &  him had proven to be enemy. but the problem with that is that he can't actively say that  ––  it is a treason that porco would only be oh so happy to bring that to the higher ups.

his tongue is still by the need to protect gabi. she's too young  ––  she deserves a childhood that he never got to have.

jaw clenches  &  lip knits itself back together, the promise of transformation gone. he shoves him hard again for the good measure of it; he feels that ache in his soul at bertolt's name, at annie's name. he had tried so damn hard to fight for annie's retrieval  ––  zeke had out maneuvered him, had nearly killed him to prove a point.

but it's classified information  ––  things that would admit treason, things that would admit that reiner has his doubts  &  that marley no longer feels like the home that it once had. he has people to protect  ––  he does not much care for his own safety, for his own perseverance. but gabi is worth protecting. karina is worth protecting, even though his mother  &  him do not have the best communication, the most love.

" watch your mouth, galliard. "  reiner's voice pitches low, quiet in the dim light as the sun starts to curl down around the horizon. his hand shakes with the effort to not wipe the smug satisfaction from his face. 

he breathes out through his nose once  &  steps back, shoves the chair in hard enough that it rattles. it settles some part of him that is trying its best to keep itself together. 

but underneath it all, he is crumbling; the reminder of bertolt  &  annie weighs on his shoulders, heavy  &  tempted to drown him in the harbor where they had once started this journey. there's an ache in his nape from the heavy breath of the guillotine once more. 

reiner exhales again, swallows around the grief that wraps itself around his throat to join.  " i'm sorry about marcel's death. he should have never died on that island. but it doesn't give you the right to demoralize bertolt or annie's sacrifice  ––  they fought as hard as they could on that island. "

he cannot say that bertolt should have lived, not him. he cannot say that annie is still alive, because zeke has happily left that out. he has merely stated that the female titan  &  the colossal are lost to the island. 

the armored was too. they are just too foolish to realize it yet.

it must eat you alive, not knowing. not knowing who, not knowing how, not knowing why, porco says —- because he feels like sounding like an ass, because he feels vindictive, because there is something satisfying about pressing hard enough that things start to crack, start to protest their overdrive —-

pressing is only satisfying because proper machines won’t break. broken down machinery is a luxury, & it’s both necessity & sardonic humor that guarantees that broken things will press on.

reiner had returned to marley dazed, still healing, & looking older than porco ever remembered his looking. they were supposed to be the same age, or approximately the same age —- & he presented himself as broken in a way that felt holy, as though he were seeking some kind of penance or damnation. he cast himself as a sinner with his hands outstretched, &

there had been that fucking farce of a trial. reiner braun had been under suspicion for treason, & there had been good reason for trial. his tongue had been far too slow to provide any description for why he had dawdled so long in a devil’s land when the worst of the dangers were the pure titans.

no candidate was ready for inheritance, so the outcome of the trial was always going to be in braun’s favor. porco knew that & voted against braun with spite lining his stomach as an old, petty kind of motivation.

reiner has never said anything to him about the vote he cast. that pisses porco off, too, feels like a sanctimonious way of reinterpreting things into a logic of what is deserved.

marcel is dead, so surely porco deserves to vote against him. reiner is alive, so surely he deserves to die.

it’s a broken line of logic, & it’s proof that broken down machinery is a luxury. both necessity & sardonic humor that guarantees that broken things will press on.

so they press on together, anyway — not toe to toe, but shoulder to shoulder while porco grapples with his reluctance to look directly at reiner, with his decision to stare reiner down just to challenge himself.

most of the time, it doesn’t matter anyway — because the world is ready to explode. both the jaws & the armored are needed in active combat, & reiner keeps acting as defense as porco learns to taste metal, learns to taste blood.

the taste is bitter, it’s seasoned with shame when he thinks that maybe it’s better than marcel died early —- in combat, jaws is a bullet with alligator teeth. it is made to instill rabid fear & introduce erratic movement into a war zone before marley’s strategy becomes too transparent, before it becomes predictable.

in theory, porco knows that upon inheriting, marcel had practiced with jaws. the same way that braun practiced the armored before paradis, that leonhart had practiced the crystallizing titan, that hoover turned himself into a bomb.

hoover had been just a kid, too. it’s strange to remember.

they had been weapons first, before they had been four children meant to die in a devil’s land —- that is where the story stops.

the world is ready to explode, & the story is different than it had been. marley increasingly has centered itself as the world’s enemy, so there is more active combat than there had been five years ago —- & the opposition has started to develop technology that can prove ruinous to the nine, so there is increased work demanded of the common men.

as a part of porco’s long term as a useless warrior candidate, he had worked alongside them. it’s the same for the younger generations — the grice boy is only a few years younger than him, & he had been the first to join the troops before he had even reached fourteen. grice’s a people pleaser, so he reminds porco of reiner —- but he’s weirder than that, in how earnest & resigned he writes himself. the people pleasing seems like it’s a coincidence rather than the intention; grice genuinely may be that way. & still — he had already been involved in bloodshed.

so the fighting is worse than it had been. even if marcel had practiced using jaws in its bloodiest form —- porco remembers him as he had been when he was ten, eleven, twelve. he would have died at thirteen, & he would have died with a child’s heart.

maybe it’s better that marcel did not have to learn how to evolve past that, how turn himself into the likeness of a bullet.

it is a shameful thing to think, but it’s enough sometimes there are days that reiner & he complete a mission & turn human with the residue of transformation streaking their cheeks —-

there are days that they complete a mission, & porco clasps his hand on reiner’s shoulder because fatigue surpasses pettiness & grief. twice, reiner had returned the gesture —- covered porco’s hand at his shoulder with his own in a desperate search for contact, for connection.

it made porco’s skin burn, so he retreated fast & muttered something about needing a cup of coffee & a cigarette.

so they press on together, anyway — not toe to toe, but shoulder to shoulder. it lands them in the midst of too much time shared in dormitories of the candidates’ training grounds. it is a mandatory residence on week days for candidates — - & so it had long been porco’s custom & lasting habit once inheritance had come to him.

there never felt like time enough to rewrite his primary residence from a place of work to private grounds or to an old family home.

besides that, there was never much appeal to the idea of returning to a bedroom that had been been shared & consequently frozen in time when half of its occupants had been made a ghost.

even if the family speaks proudly of marcel & reckons that he had died with pride & with honor —- they had never known how to recover from the way that conversation dragged without a fourth voice to contribute. they treat each other delicately.

so he never bothered leaving the dormitories or moving out properly. he’s thought, sometimes, about moving to his family home & to sleep in his brother’s unused bed — as though that should be enough to prompt old memories, as though familiarity would be enough for marcel to want to talk to him through this shared connection.

he feels very young whenever he thinks about marcel, so he often thinks about anything else — he thinks about how broken machinery is a luxury, & he thinks about the density of people piled into liberio. there are too many of them wanting for opportunity, for a chance at fresh air.

these types of logistics make it easy to blend the workspace into his living space, into a working machine. these types of logistics have no plan for processing reiner, acquitted of treason, drifting between the dorms & nightmares & gabi braun & another version of the end of the world. in the midst of this, they border sometimes too close to stagnancy sometimes —

porco doesn’t have much patience for every way that he & reiner are alike, for every way that they differ. but they share too much space, & impatience makes him lean into cruelty,

he’s learning recently, too, that jaws stirs restlessness against him — its strength is in resilience, & it makes him weary. makes him drum his fingers against his thigh.

despite the trial & the acquittal, reiner had just been promoted to vice war chief —- the second in command. it makes porco trust him less, makes him scoff more, makes him more conscious of the way that the world is ready to explode.

it must eat you alive, not knowing. not knowing who, not knowing how, not knowing why, porco says —- because he feels like sounding like an ass, because he feels vindictive, because there is something satisfying about pressing hard enough until things start to crack, start to protest their overdrive. it’s a bite for familiarity —- because fighting had always been good for them, back when it had been a childish catharsis.

reiner bites back, because broken machinery is a luxury. porco leans against the doorframe & folds his arms against his chest as he watches reiner’s knuckles turn white against the grip of his chair.

it is a cathartic thing, even if it makes porco’s lip twist into something bitter. even if he presses things into overdrive, he is not indifferent. he is not naturally cruel. still, he flattens his voice into boredom.

‘ it was never between me & marcel. it was between the two useless warrior candidates. whatever i remember from that woman . . . you shepherded her over here - that’s on you, armored. it’s just lucky for you that i learned how to grow into jaws. otherwise, what ? who’d you think would have got it ? grice’s spoken for, so maybe it’d be the kid brother. maybe it’d be gabi braun. she’s got more jaws in her than armored, what do you think ? ‘

he flashes his teeth into a smile, a predatory thing & a cold-hot expression. he abandons his post at the doorframe & drifts closer to reiner. it’s a dare.

‘ but you get promoted ? for what ? why the hell do you think you got promoted ? were you really good at following orders or something when hoover got lost ? **what about leonhart ? ‘

it’s an easier habit to think of childhood losses by last-name soldiers. they were born for militant formality, & they are part of a broken machine. so he asks reiner : where do you stand ? if they are dead, why did they have to die ?

the world is about to explode, after all.

[kuroosweakness]

domestic things the haikyuu boys do to show that they care

 ↳ it all seems too good to be true. that’s because they’re not real :’ 

━ sakusa kiyoomi 

- always let you shower first so you can get all the warm water. (but don’t too long, don’t leave him without any hot water at all :’) (or i guess u guys can shower together ... ) 

- puts your towel in the dryer before your shower. he has many, many reasons for this: 

your towel will be nice and cozy when you walk out the shower 🥺 

he’ll have to hand the towel to you, meaning he’ll have a reason to go inside the warm, steamy bathroom 

he’ll be able to wrap you tightly with the towel the moment you step out. sakusa can’t leave you abandoned with just a towel, so naturally, he’ll sit you on the bathroom counter (even with you sitting on the counter, he’s still taller <3) and dry your hair, comb your hair, pat your body dry, lotion your body, blow-dry your hair, and all the other steps of your skin-care routine 

imagine standing next to each other, staring into the mirror as you both brush your teeth, him softly side-butting you, you side-butting him back (except he moved to the side and now you just awkwardly side-butted the air ... there goes his satisfactory smirk 🙄<3) 

(just before drying your hair, he’ll rub strands of your hair between his palms to make it stick up, and stand back to admire the view. you’re adorable) 

(oh to be pampered by sakusa :’)) how does it feel to have won life?) 

(it hurts knowing we’ve never seen animated sakusa smile) 

━ kita shinsuke 

- he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk when the two of you are walking side by side to keep you safe from the road. it’s a small, subtle gesture, but a gesture that doesn’t go overseen. this also means his left hand will always be holding your right hand 

- picks things up for you. on his way home, he’ll always call and ask if you want anything. if you have a delivery package you need to pick up, he’ll do it for you. if you want a cup of coffee from your favorite cafe, he’ll buy one for you :)

- he loves and cares for your family like his own. this goes a long way. it truly shows how important you are to him

(to those who doesn’t have a very ... good family or a family that wouldn’t be interested in caring for your partner, i’m sorry to hear about that babes :’( i can relate, we’re in this together!)

━ oikawa tōru 

- always talks in terms of “we” instead of “i”, “me”, and “you”. he always includes you in conversations so you never feel left out! whenever you are, he wants you to feel acknowledged and included. 

- defends you in every conversation. if someone were to talk badly or make unwanted remarks about you, oikawa will be right there to drag them down.  oikawa may talk a lot but it’s gotten him the advantage to be really good with his words. try winning an argument with him, you can’t (unless ur iwaizumi lol)   

- anyone that stares at you for too long, he’ll give his harshest glare. oikawa’s one of those people who can just sense bad vibes from people. he tells you all about his instincts so no “bad guys” can get to you

- relationship with oikawa = lots of pillowtalk 

━ miya atsumu 

- if you carry purses/bags around, he always offers to hold onto your purse/bag when you go to the bathroom. he’ll casually sling it over his shoulder like it’s his own, no awkwardness here! he’s proud to be your boyfriend and it shows. 

(guys who carries purses for their partners with confidence > other guys)

- if the two of you walk out of a store into pouring rain without an umbrella, atsumu will tell you to wait inside the store while he goes to start the car. he’ll drive to the front of the store so you won’t have to get wet from the rain 

(i just know atsumu’s one of those guys who looks so hot while driving without even trying- darn him <3) 

━ akaashi keiji 

- beings extra everything around for you. band-aids, hair-ties, gum, cash, an extra jacket in his trunk, a cup in case of stomach-emergencies, and even a pair of socks in case the rain seeps through your shoes. he has it all. feeling safe is one of the many good feelings you feel around akaashi 

- when you share a small umbrella, akaashi always makes sure it completely covers you, even if it means water is dripping down his shoulder. 

- when he comes across a good book, a good movie, good song, he’ll have that spark in his beautiful eyes when he tells you all about them. he wants you to also enjoy the good in his life :) (he also tells you about his past mistakes/incidents to warn you about the bad) 

━ bokuto kōtarō

- goes to bed before you, lying on your spot of the bed to warm it up. when you walk into the bedroom, you’ll see bo’s head sticking out of the covers with a huge grin. he’s so cute without even trying djkfldj 

- adores massaging you. he’ll regularly massage you, run his hand across your tummy, sit you in his lap, squeeze you with his biceps, play with your thighs, yeah it’s quite obvious how much he loves you. 

rough day? regular day? be prepared to lay on your tummy so bokuto can give you a massage :) don’t be too surprised when he attempts new massage moves that “our professional massager did on us! (msby)” 

you know what else he loves? when you massage him! he loves coming home with sore muscles to a home-made massage by the person who never fails to make him smile. not the best massage in the world, but you’re trying and he loves it more than explainable. 

- brings you the remote without complaint. puts your plate back to the kitchen without complaint. puts your clothes in the laundry basket without complaint. 

━ miya osamu 

- always offers to carry the grocery bags. even if he can barely see past the pile of bags in his arms, he’ll insist on carrying them. his competitive side comes out during times like these; he’ll try to impress you by carrying more and more each time. even with how heavy the groceries may be, he hasn’t dropped/broken anything ...yet! 

- leaves the last bit of food for you. last slice of pizza? yours. last bit of milk left? for your cereal. last piece of cake? yours. he never eats the last piece without checking with you first, no matter how hungry he is. eating food without leaving you any is like betrayal. 

- blocks the sunlight out of your eyes with his arm/hand. especially in the morning when the sunlight glares through the window. 

━ suna rintarō 

- charges your phone for you. sometimes, he’ll tap on your lockscreen to check your battery percentage when you go to sleep and charge it when the battery bar is low. you don’t have to worry about forgetting to charge your phone with suna around. 

- turns off his phone when you talk to him so you can have his full attention

- untangles your mess of cords. he always glares and heavily sighs whenever he sees tangled cords. no one knows how, but suna’s exceptionally good with untangling stuff 

━ kuroo tetsurō

- cleans the hair from your shower for you. he really doesn’t like it, but he knows you hate it more, which is why he does it for you. even though it’s not a favorite activity of his, he doesn’t really mind, it’s natural. 

- he’ll talk to the people/call the people you don’t want to. if you don’t want to say your drive-thru order, he’ll do it for you. if you want to know the price of a shirt but there isn’t a tag, he’ll talk to a store-worker for you. instead of being annoyed at you for “not being to do simple things”, he’ll help you out without a single word of complaint. there’ll be some teasing, but no harm done. he’s very understanding and patient

(my bias is showing. he’s my comfort person, what can i do :’) 

- he made up a code with you. four tugs on the hem of his shirt means you’re not feeling well/uncomfortable. (there are also many other signals and code words)

this is especially helpful when you’re out at parties, big events, malls, etc etc. as soon as he feels your tugs, he’ll whip around and study your face, leading you to a quieter place to ask how you’re feeling. if you want to go home, then home it is. 

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

anyway I adore Kingsley so have a character study I guess <3

Kingsley bounds to the front of the ship, looking out at the water with childlike glee. Childlike is right, he’s technically not even three months old. Sometimes he feels older, sometimes he really does feel like the child the others seem to think he is.

Everything is still so fascinating and new but also familiar. The ship isn’t familiar, neither is the water, but the people are. Jester and Fjord. It feels as though he should know them but he doesn’t.

Every so often he gets a flash of a memory, Jester smiling up at him, whispering to him in Infernal. Or Fjord bisecting some kind of creature with a sword.

He doesn’t tell them as much, doesn’t want them to get their hopes up that whoever inhabited this body before him is returning. He’s not that person anymore, either of them, and it’s taking them all some adjusting.

Kingsley takes a big breath of salty air as the wind blows his coat back, certain with every bone in his body, that he's never done this before.

They tell him he used to read fortunes. And apparently they’re right. His hands know the worn deck of tarot cards Jester hands him. He knows how to get the card he wants to the top and how to trick his customer into thinking he’s genuine. Kingsley hates it. It’s not him. It’s something else, someone else in his head bleeding through.

So he gives the tarot cards back to Jester. The next time they make port he purchases a worn book on palm reading. He reads through it in one night, burning a candle down to the stand. And the next day he spends hours just staring at his palm. 

His life line is frayed, splitting off into three lines. He traces a nail through them, wondering which one is his. Wondering if it even matters.

His heartline is the deepest one. It means you love deeply and completely, the book had said. And that’s the one he’s become fixated on. How can his hand know more about him than he does? It doesn’t make any sense and yet at the same time it makes the most sense of it all. This hasn’t always been his body. Maybe the line was meant for someone else. Lucien? Mollymauk? 

Sometimes when he lies in his hammock below decks, he’ll trace that line over and over again, hoping beyond anything that it belongs to him.

The nightmares are the worst part. More often than not in the early months, he wakes up screaming names he barely knows, looking at faces he doesn’t remember. He dreams of a city made of roiling flesh. He dreams of a snowy road and a sharp blade. He dreams of a figure in red staring down at him. He dreams of dirt and ash and books and eyes. So many eyes. 

Nothing but fucking eyes.

Jester is always there to comfort him. She’s good at that. She’ll hold him in her arms, let him cry and babble on and on about his dreams, switching mindlessly between Common and Infernal. She doesn’t judge. She doesn’t tell anyone.

She’ll braid his hair and sing a song her mother wrote her. Kingsley doesn’t know his mother. He doubts he ever will. And it eats at him far more than he would ever let on. Jester never sees his thumb digging into his life line almost hard enough to cut the skin.

Unlike the others, Caduceus has no expectations of him. He is a welcome friend, despite their many differences. It's Caduceus that Kingsley talks to when he can no longer stand the thought of staring at his palm, wondering what it all means.

Caduceus takes his hand, gentle as ever, and turns his hand over so Kingsley can no longer see the lines. He taps his thumb against the scar on the back of Kingsley's hand, asks him how he got it.

Kingsley is prepared to say he doesn't know, that it's a relic from Molly or Lucien. But then he takes a better look at it and smiles, telling Caduceus that it's from when Fjord tried to teach him to cook and a huge wave rocked the ship making him cut himself.

And in that instant, Kingsley understands the point Caduceus is trying to make. It doesn't matter who came before him, it doesn't matter which lines are his, because at the end of the day it's his body now. Every day he's figuring out who he is, he's adopting mannerisms, he's learning. And he's growing.

And that has to be enough.

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[amoirsetpacis]

★ --;; Vash can't get a word in edge-wise, on matter how many reorts sit at the back of his tongue; that that's not what he meant, that of course he didn't want Wolfwood hurt, that of course he knows its not fun. Each blow hits its mark, cracks in his resolve already shoddily held together with old glue and yellowed tape. That same anger rattles beneath the cracks, bursts forward all the more after the sort of disbelief that he's just been left here; feels it gather in heat behind his ears as heavy footsteps retreat from the bathroom.

"Would you just -- !!" Vash again moves to push himself up and fails; this time there's enough force tog et him nearly all the way up before he slips, hip and shoulder smacking hard against the bottom of the tub. His foot flies out as he scrambles, kicks the tap, and in the few moments it takes for the world to come back into slightly-less-blurry focus are enough for the pipes to groan, for cold water to start pouring out of the spout. It gets all over his pant's leg and the change of clothes that had fallen out of his lap and into the tub before he can reach over and turn off the water with the same foot, spitting curses under his breath. The joints on his side smart now, too, on top of everything.

He doesn't bother to change once he finally hauls himself up; the clothes in here are soaked now, anyways, and even though the ground still feels unsteady beneath his feet he's off towards where he heard Wolfwood march downstairs, where he'd caught the sound of the kitchen sink running after he'd stopped making such a racket of his own. Instead of distance between them allowing for things to simmer down, all it does is make it all churn in his chest, the dull ache in his side like a steady stoke.

By the time he makes it to the stairs though, by the time he takes wobbly steps all the way to the bottom and is met with the shape of broad shoulders at the kitchen sink, it's like the bubble has already popped prematurely. If this were before everything, somehow, he'd already be up in Wolfwood's face, fists white knuckled in lapels. As it stands it's like all the fight has oozed out of him and into the floor boards, unable to keep its shape under the sheer pressure of pure exhaustion, as he stands at the base of the stairs. One hand stays wrapped around the railing to keep himself steady.

"I know what he tried to do," he says quietly. All the fire behind his earlier outburst has fallen down to a low simmer; the intent is still there, but there's not enough tinder to keep the flame strong. "I didn't say you shouldn't have done anything. Just--" a heavy sigh, gaze falling down to the floorboards, remaining plumes of smoke expelled along with it. There's again the urge to run his hand over his face, but at least he has the mind to stop the palm coming up before it's too late.

"That's why I'm scared."

For someone that lies as much as he does, that threads it into conversations as though it were nothing more than breathing, Vash trusts Wolfwood with all of himself just as easily, admitting something like that. He lists to the side before finally lowering himself to sit on the bottom stair, landing none too gently.

"I didn't wanna worry you, and I didn't want you goin' out after the other guy, 'cause it wasn't his fault, so I didn't say anything." The blood spattering against the ground, the fear he hadn't seen from others in such a long time; they stay imprinted behind his eyelids, make him want to curl in on himself in disgust. "And I'm sorry, okay? But all it does is just-- just proves that whatever Knives does now, or later, or whenever he gets his abilities back, that I won't be able to do anything about it."

Vash's forehead comes down to press against his knees, drawn up to his chest. Fresh tears start to sting again against his cheeks. He doesn't have the heart to tell Wolfwood that it's better him than the rest of them, still; worn out, empty. That it's okay if it's him, if it'll keep everyone else alright, even if it's just for a while. Knows how well it would fly if he did.

"Has he talked to you?" Vash asks instead. It gets muffled against his thighs, croaked out, but between the both of them and the otherwise silence of the house it's still easy to pick up. "About his brother?" The implication of who he's speaking of is easy enough to follow. "About how much he hates himself for hurtin' him?" His shoulders sag, fingers wrapping loosely around his own ankles. The hems are still wet.

"It's gotta be me," he says. "I've already--. I've lived with it." Barely. There had been more than one ghost haunting him out in the dunes, drunk in the middle of the night. "I can't just watch him get picked apart. And I can't sit n' watch while everyone else gets hurt 'cause I didn't do anything."

"He already hurt people," Wolfwood hisses out. His voice is tinted with equal parts anger and hurt, but it isn't explosive—not yet. Fighting isn't fun, he fucking hates it. It's nothing like their usual bickering. Vash is about to burst right in front of him and Wolfwood thinks he should maybe reach out to calm him, but his own anger is rising, and rising, flames growing. Hot, dizzying.

His hands, now empty and unoccupied, don't know where to go, or what to do, and if he takes hold of the tub he's more than likely to crack the porcelain under his furious grip. They fall to his knees, nails digging into the fabric of his pants so hard he can still feel the sting.

"He tried to kill me! Was I s'posed to just stand there n'smile n'try to reason with him? Let him just run around thinkin' he can do whatever he wants? This was before I saw what he did to you! He's lucky I don't go out n'hunt him down right fuckin' now!"

The tone of Vash's voice hurts. He hasn't heard that bitterness in a long, long time. He thought maybe he'd never have to again. It might do well to apologize but Wolfwood's having a hard fucking time feeling bad about what he did. Especially now, seeing what that bastard did to his husband, and what his husband did in response.

"I just had to pick glass out of yer eye. You think that's fun for me? That I'm just gonna let that shit slide? Not a chance.

"I'll protect everyone by any means necessary," he practically spits out. "No matter what it takes."

Even if Vash taught him mercy, what mercy could he ever give this Knives?

"What if you died?" It's all tumbling out now. "I know what happened the other day. Only 'cus one of my fuckin' employees was around n'saw it, I thought maybe you'd decide to tell me, but ya didn't, just acted like you weren't feelin' well and needed to sleep it off, and now ya went and hurt yerself again 'cus of him, and I'm supposed to just— be—"

His voice cracks.

"—Fine with it?"

It's too much. Wolfwood's hands land on the edge of the tub again to steady him as he pushes himself up to his feet. He's not here to be fucking lectured like a misbehaving child or have Vash look at him like that.

He shakes his head a few times, grabs the change of clothes he had brought in for Vash and drops them in Vash's lap, turns around, and swiftly leaves the bathroom. The door doesn't slam behind him, he's not like that. Kuroneko meows at him as leaves the bedroom and passes her in the hall, but he doesn't stop for her like he normally would. Down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the back door. He only stops when he realizes he's halfway out into the backyard.

Wolfwood looks down at his hands. There are smears of dried blood and a smudge of black rot on his fingers. Vash's. It makes him feel sick.

What the fuck is he doing?

He turns around and stomps back towards the house so he can scrub his hands in the kitchen sink until they feel raw.