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shelby-love · 3 years ago

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Requested: yes Published: November 11th, 2021 Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader Prompt(s): none [my prompt list] Warning(s): ANGST, heavy angst, bullying, Tommy being awful and depressed Word count: 1.5k Author’s note: Due to series 2 being set in 1922 I have made the reader a bit younger. Tommy is 32 hence why it wouldn't make sense to make the reader any older than 12. But because our lovely boy Finn is 14 in series 2, I, as the author, am taking creative license and making her 14 too. It fits better with the fighting with parent trope.

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One would think that being a gangster's daughter would make you tough. Many people did think that way, so it came as a surprise whenever they came to encounter your innocent nature.

When a gangster has a daughter, he will never put her out in the fields of danger. He will do the opposite.

Protect her from taint, and in a sense, place her into a glass box like a rose.

You were a pure example of that rose, and if it weren’t for your usually shy and calm nature, you would have fought your father's decision.

You had only one true friend, and it hurt just thinking about the fact that your friend was your own uncle. Finn Shelby might have a lot of things in common with you, but his light in no way matched your own.

But there was anger in you. And it was directed purely at your father.

"Y/N!" His voice reasons through, being heard even through the walls of your room.

His footsteps were closing in on you as he paced up the stairs, and you placed the book you were reading down on your lap. Your brows came together as an afterthought.

"What, dad?" You bit out with the same decibel in your voice. The door opened a second later to reveal your father.

He was adorned in his usual expensive attire, and while everything in his outfit and posture seemed normal, the dullness in his eyes that appeared after Grace left was as present as ever.

And you hated him for it.

"We're going to the races," he announced, focused on his cuff links. "Pol's going to help you get ready."

His absence, both physical and mental, aggravated you for some reason. "I don’t want to go to the races."

There was rarely a time when you openly disagreed with something, let alone disobeyed. You did now, and there was no going back from your words.

You observed the way your father merely raised his brows, and that small act was more intimidating than yelling itself. "You are going to the races, Y/N."

"No, I'm not!" You abruptly stood up, suddenly feeling sick of life.

You were done with people pushing you. Completely and utterly sick of everyone taking your kind heart for granted.

Your father, your family, your classmates…

It needed to stop.

And somehow you thought yelling at your father – the only true constant in your life – was going to put an end to it.

"Just leave me alone!" You cried, listening to your voice as it slipped past your lips. It no longer sounded like the gentle, joyous voice people were always so in awe of. "Please!"

You hadn't even noticed you were crying. Tears flowed unchecked down your rosy cheeks with no means to stop. It was a sight to see, you crying, as one would never be able to connect trauma of any kind to you.

For the first time in a while, Tommy had asked himself if perhaps his own sorrows prevented him to see the distraught in his daughter's identical ocean-blue eyes.

"For once in your life, just stop! Everyone, just leave me alone."

And he did.

His heart with him.

But he couldn’t pit point at who else exactly your cries were referring to.

And so help him god if he didn't find out.

You slipped past him in a haste to get away from him, and he didn't even notice until you reached the front door and stormed past it.

"Y/N!"

You were gone by the time your father reached the door.

***

Elders often pass negative stress down onto the children of their dysfunctional society. Their actions speak louder than words and are regularly mimicked by younger children. There is a pattern in bullying, as it's often the same. Thus, why the most venerable of the children are forced to be what one would call 'target practice' for those patterns.

Essentially, that's what you were.

And you hated yourself for it.

Why be given your mother's kind heart in a world in which one couldn't survive if they had what you did?

Why not live up to your Shelby name, and show society just how alike you were to your father?

One would think just the birth certificate would be enough.

Apparently not.

The gray clouds you were admiring were soon replaced by the worn, gravel road your boots just crunched under. You braced yourself on your palms, feeling them burn, no doubt scratched and bloody.

It didn't take long to put two and two together.

The patterns were here, ready as ever to decorate their target practice.

One thing led to another, and you found yourself crying in fatal position on the muddy road, a million soulless words itching into your skin, branding you forever.

The industries were loud, and no one was there to hear the commotion.

"Stupid little c#nt!"

"Where's your daddy now?"

"Look at her. So pathetic."

"C'mon, let's go, I'm bored with her already."

It took you minutes of lying on the floor to drag yourself back up and on the move.

And for the first time, you didn't find home comforting. Your cuts and bruises would have to settle somewhere else.

***

"Tell the Lee boys to wait for my orders," ordered Tommy as he sat on his desk, his head in his hands.

"But Tom, the Lee's are kin-"

"I don't give a shit!" He said, looking up at John with wide eyes. "Tell them to wait for my fucking orders."

He turned to Polly, "Have you seen 'er?"

"What'd you mean?" She asked him, tapping her cigarette against the ashtray, alarm dusting below her eyes mixing with the cosmetics on her face.

For the first time, Tommy was sick of the wafting smell.

"Now, where are you going, Tom?"

He seized them as he threw his jacket on, a mixture of fury and fear in his eyes, "To find me daughter."

Tommy turned to John, "If the Lee's know what's good for them, then they'll wait for my fucking orders."

***

The cold night was placed under a dark, gray sky. It was a spectacle of white blinking stars, and the only solace you could find.

You hugged your lanky, bruised arms close, your head placed on your knees. You were sitting on a crate of some sort, and while Charlie's yard was full of mostly safe ones, it was quite hard to guess whether a crate was full of explosives.

You might be a softer breed, but that didn't mean you were deaf.

Your father was sailing toward legitimate business, and you trusted him enough to ease up on the explosives.

Suddenly, you didn't feel like you were alone. You raised your head and looked behind yourself, catching sight of an intimidating figure. It was fairly easy to make sense of who it was, given that several fires were lit all around the canal.

You didn't try to run, only switched your gaze toward the front.

Warmth enveloped you after a second, your father having placed his bigger coat over your smaller body. He even placed his hat on your unruly hair, not saying anything until he settled the clothes on you.

Your small, fragile heart couldn't take it anymore. The tenderness of a father's touch being the last straw.

Your armor fell, the tiredness of the day seeping through, and you began to sob.

Tommy couldn't see well because of the night, so your bruised face was visible only when you looked at him with tears in your eyes. He had merely a second to register what he saw, and a second more to keep his brewing anger in check before you stood up and threw your arms around his neck and just cried.

"I'm so sorry," you sniveled, "I'm so sorry, dad."

He was always so bad with comforting. Especially because he arrived into your world after the war for the second time; the time you couldn't see your father in the man he was before.

But you learned to love him again, despite the fact that he was no longer his smiling self.

And so he just held you silently, knowing deep in his bones that that was what you truly needed.

A rock.

A lifeline.

A father's embrace.

Eventually your sobs became less frequent, and what they were replaced with small hiccups, he brought his face to yours, getting on your eye level. His eyes went over every scratch and bruise until he placed a hand on your damp cheek, brushing your tears away with his thumb and holding you.

Tommy didn't say anything as he grabbed your smaller hands in his bigger one, looking over the bloody palms you were now in possession of. He brought them to his lips and kissed them better, inhaling your scent just like he did when you were a small child.

Your father wasn't going to press for answers this night, and you couldn't be gladder for his ability to perform a perfect silent condolence.

"You don't apologize to me Y/N," he spoke quietly. "I don't deserve it."

Your breathing matched his own, "But you do. I'm so sorry."

And then you cried again, and he held you close again, for the first time in years crying with you.

Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3

If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3 profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!

Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics my tag list is the way to go! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x (pinned post>navigation>tag list)

✭ GENERAL (all WIPs):

@fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @wandamaxim0f @chefdoeuvre @just-arather-veryconfused-being @crazy0lu @thirstykpophoe @theletterhart @nocturnalherb16 @sj-thefan @bittytish @stephhevring @e-lysium @itisjustwhatitis @sunflowerangel21 @agentstarkid @keithseabrook27 @jemimah-b99 @peakyweirdo @fanofalltheficsx @miraclesoflove @ethereal-moongod

✭ PEAKY BLINDERS:

@lovemissyhoneybee @thanossexual @marvel-ousnesss @sextvpes @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @killerstvles @navs-bhat @kpoptrash2000 @softieekayy

✭ TOMMY SHELBY:

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @remusflirts @peakyxtommy @sarcasm-n-insomnia

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moon-ness · 2 years ago

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more bravey notes

One of the things that really got to me regarding her thoughts on her Dad were her feelings surrounding being ungrateful. “The way I behave in certain moments doesn’t reflect how grateful I am for the things he gave me and gave up for me.” I relate wholeheartedly. Sometimes the way I behave doesn’t directly reflect how overwhelmingly touched I am. It just doesn’t always show through in the way I wish it would. It’s easier for her to remember the shitty moments when she didn’t live up to showing her own gratitude than the moments of gratitude. They would push each other’s buttons but he never, never lost his cool and sometimes she would push them just to see if he would react and he never ever did. I can’t imagine having a relationship with a figure like that. But I understand sometimes you want to push someone a little just to see if they push back at you. Maybe you want to see if you deserve them taking something out on you, I don’t know. Reflections on parental relationship are always difficult for me to read. It shines a spotlight on my own gaps when I realize for myself, just how truly isolating and alone my own childhood was. Who was I to call? The thoughts are anything but pleasant and I carry very few of my own memories with me and they cannot be undone no matter what. They are sewn into your skin. She says, “We revert back to our childhood behavior when we’re around our parents.” Maybe it’s that way for parents too. No matter time has passed we fall into old routines and histories because our knowledge can never be undone. I still think of how despite my best efforts, a hug from my mother makes me whole body seize up and cringe. The warmth does not feel safe and I don’t think my body will ever forget or undo that. She said the sadness hits us the moment we are born and realize that no matter what, we are grateful for our parents bringing us into the world and all they went through. The sad is not sad at all, it’s just love.

You make your own cape. Two years of depression and injury after injury was an arduous trek for her. Her first race back was a marathon with a goal pace but she had little time to prepare for it due to the injuries. She was starting at almost zero, having ran for only a few weeks so her climb was conservative and not pushing hard enough to actually test herself. “First steps on dry land after months of cross-training.” She felt her injury ten miles into the race and made the decision to ditch her goal pace and simply finish instead of dropping out because she couldn’t hit pace. Her engine was strong but her wheels weren’t turning right. She decided to re-frame the entire thing for herself in order to avoid disappointment when she was questioned on her epic fail in a post-race interview. “Reframing your goals and rewriting your stories are powerful tools.” Adjustments. I know how powerful that is. I am currently injured and afraid to run again and in the meantime my goals and expectations need to change. My values need to be placed elsewhere or else I’ll drown in the pit of “oh my god, I can’t do this and I failed.” She knows just how much the negatives outshine the positives and for people like us we have to work that much harder at them. Well, for anyone I guess. Alexi did not grow up in a comfortable female environment. Most of it made her uncomfortable. She held onto one pair of shoes from her mother, Gucci slip ons and savored them. “As with so many feminine things I’ve experienced while growing up, I was on the other side of the glass— always outside peering in, imitating, adopting, projecting, but never inherently a part of it. I sensed power but had none.” And when she was in Italy she saw Gucci shoes and treated herself to them for the first time in her life, in honor of her mother and finding her own femininity. Growing up she had nightmares of her mother but never told her father because if she did he’d think she was traumatized and feel bad and there was nothing he could do about that. And then she met a woman, someone who she connected with as a mother figure, Maya Rudolph. It was pure chance. She was running on a treadmill in a hotel gym and here walks by Maya, her husband and their kids and a conversation began. She watched carefully as Maya interacted with her girls. “Often, a little girl’s understanding of the world revolves around her mother.” And there was a tinge of shame surrounding the things she does not know. Shame stems from a feeling that something is our own fault. That we are somehow responsible for the gaps or understandings we should already know. They talked about it and Maya had the same experiences as Alexi. Growing up like that effects how you relate to other women. “You are self-conscious but unrestricted. You are scrappy. You feel extra responsibility all of the time. You overcompensate. You grow up resembling someone you don’t really know. You are aware of your own mortality.” This must be true. I relate a lot to Alexi but sometimes I wonder how ours differ. She looked up to Maya. “I think of her as the sun and I’m just a small asteroid fighting to find my place in the solar system. I’ll bask in her warmth whenever I’m lucky enough to pass close to her orbit, but for the rest of the time, it’s enough to know she’s out there.” WOW I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I FEEL THIS IN MY SOUL. So much of this book spoke to me and I still have so many thoughts on the beginning of her book.

#personal

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ghoulcouriersix · 4 years ago

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Happy Together

Pairing: Female V/Gustavo Orta

Characters: Fem V, Gustavo Orta, Johnny Silverhand.

Tags: Angst/Hurt, Comfort, depression, loss, death, grief/mourning, Johnny is a sweetheart deep down, best friends.

Summary: Cherry shows a piece of her past to Johnny, opening up old wounds in the process. Johnny shows his soft side even if it's only for a little while (this is NOT canon to Cherry's story just a little AU)

The drive up to The Columbarium is always a tough one. On typical sad days it always rains but this time the blistering heat of the sun makes Cherry's skin melt and stick to the leather of her car seat. The mumbling of the radio a pleasant distraction as the looming dread of those tall pillars comes into view.

"The fuck are we doing here?" Johnny glitches into existence in the backseat making the woman jump.

"Just paying a visit, why are you back there anyway"

Johnny leans over, pointing to the flowers resting in the passenger seat.

"Don't wanna sit on em"

"Well look at you being thoughtful for once" Cherry scoffs

"I know better than to disrespect the dead, you know me better than that" he declares as the car rolls to a stop. Her hands grip hard to the steering wheel.

"You can stay in the car Johnny I know this shit isn't your thing"

"You're obviously here to see someone I'm not stupid, you need me and I'm here, always. You know that"

Who knew this parasite that wormed his way into her head had a heart, even if he's slowly killing her, Johnny is.. something else. There's no romantic attachment but the idea of being alone, no Johnny to wake up to, his snarky comments or the fact he's always there when she needs him. All alone. That made a pit swill in her stomach. She knows at the end of the day it's either him or her but as the days pass by it's getting harder to make that fucking decision.

"Thank you Johnny, really. I would" she pauses "I really need you"

"Anytime kid" he then flicks out of existence with a smile.

Her lips itch for a cigarette as the anxiety builds in her stomach, anything to taste the burn of nicotine on her tongue as it fills her lungs full of cancer and satisfaction.

Peeling herself out of the car still fighting the urge for a smoke. Flowers in one hand anger in the other, she walks up the stairs, her heels clicking on the spotless tiles. The silence is deafening, feels like the whole world is zoomed in on her like this is some game. Such a fucking funny game.

She grips the flowers hard as the faint sound of crying comes into earshot. She rushes by quickly ignoring the tears already burning in the back of her eyes, rounding a corner the crying dies down as her destination comes into view. Biting her lip hard she stands face to wall.

"Hey Gustavo, I missed you" her lips twitch.

Gustavo Orta, the man you always could rely on. Rest in peace.

She sits crossed legs facing the blue plaque. A lonely pot of wilting flowers lean against the wall along with half melted candles, she reaches out and touches the petals gently. Dry but soft.

"I'm sorry the heat got to you so badly, Gustavo would flip if he saw this" she chuckles through the pain as she collects the water jug next to the pot and watches the water slowly trickle down the flower into the soil.

She sets the new flowers next to old, the comparison between the two is too hard to ignore. One discoloured, brittle, starved the other fresh, lively, perky. It reminds her of herself in a way.

"Who's this?" Johnny squats into view pointing at the wall "brother, friend, boyfriend?"

"Husband actually" she looks at Johnny with a small smile and also a little humoured seeing him so taken back.

"You? Married? You don't look like the marrying type Isabella wait sorry Cherry"

"No, call me Isabella please" she corrects him.

Silence falls between the two, it's awkward the kind of tense that you wish something would happen to break the ice.

"How'd he, you know, don't have to tell me like" he moves into a side sitting position.

"Some Merc zeroed him, had a hit on his head because of a rumour of all things. Saw him with a girl of the opposite family, dad got jealous and tried to have him killed but she got the bullet instead so they sent in a reliable Merc. Grabbed him when he was alone and yea. Had to go identify the body they fucked him up so bad. Not the way you wanna remember your husband's face" she falls silent as the tears threaten to break free.

"Shit, I'm sorry kid I know this sorta stuff I hard to go through, lost someone special to me too so you're not alone"

"Doesn't get easier does it?"

He replies to her question with a sorrowful head shake.

"I thought as much, he would've liked you, he had a thing for assholes with a soft center" she laughs as her head rests on his shoulder. He smelled like cigarettes with a mix of sweat and cologne.

"Of course he would've what's not to like about me, everyone warms up to eventually even you" he huffs out as laugh when she jabs his side.

"Wanna smoke?" She looks up at him, his eyes glued to the wall with an unreadable expression.

"Light em up, I'm itching for one. I can feel your eagerness too" she shuffles in her jacket pocket feeling the paper of the cigarette dancing across her knuckles.

Man did it feel good to have that burn in her lungs again, the sweet dull taste washing over her tongue like a tsunami. She remembers how Gustavo's lips used to taste. A kiss so hypnotic it drove her crazy. Soft dreamy hair she ran her fingers through every morning, his gentle touch that made her blush and squirm in all the right ways. She's a complicated woman with two sides. One reserved, hidden away the other outgoing, bubbly and loyal and it made her feel exposed the way he'd crack open her personality and see a side only he got to see.

"So tell me about him, what was he like as a husband?" his hand gently runs up and down her back.

"The best, the fact he had to run a whole gang under his belt but never raised his voice or his hand to me or anyone close to him, sure he got irritated, work got him down and he may have snapped at his members sometimes but he was always smiling and laughing while having that charming sarcastic personality. He was..the best I could've asked for" the tears break through the barriers and run down her cheeks. Dripping on her hands.

"Hey, no tears. We'll get the guy who killed your husband alright? He took something away from you, something important and yea we may have hated each other's guts at one point but Arasaka can wait. You're more important right now" his arm pulls her into his chest gently

"I've got you kid, it's okay. I'm here" he says soothingly as her hands grip onto his tank top. His chest is the perfect pillow to bury her face in and just let it all out. His arms wrap around her body tightly, covering her with his body.

"Thank you Johnny out of all the people's heads you could've infected I'm glad it was mine" she laughs while she wipes her tears away.

"You're welcome sweetheart, you owe me a new tank top though, got your snot n' tears all over me"

"Yea I um maybe blew my nose on you while I was there" she bats her eyelashes at him in a puppy like fashion

"Disgusting, you're not crying on me ever again" he wipes at his shirt with a annoyed look in his eyes

"Fine, I'll just do it again when you're not looking. Now" she stands and stretches with a yawn "let's get the fuck out of here, I've let all my sad bitch out for the day"

"I'm gonna nap in the car, think I earned it after all that" he glitches next to her with a smirk

"Okay. Deal. Now get your ass in the car before I change my mind"

"Will do princess" he salutes as he fades back into nothingness.

She quickly bends down, kissing her fingers and pressing it against the plaque. Saying goodbye will always make the hole of loneliness in her heart grow, threatening to swallow her whole but she's got shit to do.

"Sleep well baby, I'll be seeing you soon" she whispers, walking away from The Columbarium once again, Like history on a never-ending painful loop. Stay strong tomorrow is a new day.

End notes: thank you sm for reading my sad bitch shit. I promise next one is gonna be a lot happier and fluffier :3

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #female v #fanfiction #mine #Gustavo Orta #spotify #comfort #deprssion #loss #angst #best friends #Fem V/Gustavo Orta

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therainroguefanfiction · 5 years ago

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⁂ What You Deserve (Doyoung Kim)

Genre: Dark, Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 3,421 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Kim Doyoung ☁

World: NCT ☁

WARNING: This fic contains self-harm, attempted suicide and talks about depression. Read at your own risk.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You’re not sure when it started, or how or why. It felt like it had been with you for most of your life. Maybe it started in high school where you spent every day being bullied and abused by your fellow students. At that time, your only bit of sanity was with your best friend, Johnny, but he had started to pull away from you.

Not on purpose, you knew. He had a dream that he was working hard towards achieving, but… in doing so, you began to fade away. Since you were children, Johnny had always been the anchor that kept you from floating away while also being the one that kept your head above water.

When he moved to Korea, you started to drown and didn’t know how to save yourself.

You had convinced yourself that everyone hated you and that you were only a burden to those around you. Johnny did his best to keep in touch as much as possible, which kept you going for a while. As bad as you never wanted it to end, you knew that it would.

Johnny had achieved his dream, debuting with a group called NCT 127 and they were quickly climbing the latter of popularity. He started to have less and less time for you until, finally, he stopped contacting you altogether. Four months passed without so much as a text saying, ‘hi’.

It had finally happened. Johnny realized that you were just a broken burden and decided to move on with his life. He forgot all about the needy, depressed little Y/N. That’s what you convinced yourself of.

You couldn’t take it anymore – the pain, the self-hate, the torment. It was all too much for you to face alone. With the weight of the world on your shoulders, you made up your mind.

You were going to kill yourself.

When Friday rolled around, your father left for his business trip, unaware of the plans his child had.

A bad storm had rolled in out of nowhere that night. Thunder shook the building as rain violently pounded the Earth. It was like the gods themselves were angry.

It comforted you in a weird way.

You lit a candle, setting it on the bathroom sink so you could see what you were doing. The power had been knocked out after a rather violent gust of wind knocked a palm tree into the power lines. This set everything into motion as the power line sparked, setting the palm tree on fire.

Unaware of the chaos outside, you slipped into the bathtub, your clothes getting heavy as they absorbed the water. Your eyes scanned your forearms, scanning the scars that littered your skin.

Even in the dull lighting, you could see each one perfectly. The old and the new, mingling together. Your finger traced them, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you remembered each one. Every single scar held a painful memory and you were cursed with remembering each one as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

Your hand shook as you picked up the razor blade.

This was it. All of your pain and suffering, all of the blood and suffering… it had all lead you to this moment. It was finally going to end. You were finally going to find peace.

So why were you hesitating? Why did you feel fear?

The metal rested against your wrist, making small cuts in your skin since you couldn’t steady your hand. ‘This is for the best’, you tried to convince yourself. ‘When I die, dad won’t have to work so hard to pay for my medical bills. He won’t stress himself over me. He can move on with his life and find the happiness he deserves. I… I have to do this!’

Lightning lit up the darkness as you screamed out, ripping the blade across your skin harder than you ever had before. Blood started to pour from the wound, dropping into the water and turning it an ugly faded red.

You slid down in the tub as the wound started to sting, your body shaking. Whether it was from your sobbing or from the pain, you didn’t know.

BANG BANG BANG.

Your ears faintly picked up the sound of pounding on the front door. Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway followed by the cries of children. It sounded hazy to you like you were dreaming.

“Open up, there’s a fire in the building!” The banging continued. “We’re coming in!”

You heard the door slam open and several pairs of feet rushed into the apartment.

Everything went black.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

A hoarse groan passed your lips as the insistent beeping disturbed your sleep. Eyes sliding open, you blinked a few times before it focused on the white ceiling above you. ‘Am I… dead?’, you wondered, forcing yourself to sit up.

The room was dark, lit up only by the lights of the heart monitor you were connected to. It was still raining, reduced to a soft pitter-patter against the window. The whiteboard on the wall bore the date, Tuesday.

It was clear that your attempt had failed. You eyed the thick bandage around your wrist. The only thing you could think about was the medical bills your father would have to pay.

‘I can’t even kill myself properly…’

The door creaked open and a woman you didn’t recognize entered the room. Your first instinct was that she was a nurse, but you soon realized that she was wearing a Victorian style dress.

Squinting through the darkness, you noticed something dripping from her hands. It was blood, splattering against the linoleum. All other sounds disappeared except for the dripping.

“Wh-Who are you?” You stuttered out, feeling your body tense. You knew something wasn’t right.

The woman started to laugh, low and vacant of humor. It gradually increased in volume until it filled the room.

You could feel terror taking over you as you scrambled back, your finger repeatedly smashing the nurse call button. The speaker behind the bed beeped as it normally would, but instead of getting a nurse you only heard the laughter coming through the static.

The woman moved closer, her bare feet slapping against the floor. “Selfish child,” she muttered.

You stumbled back off the bed, tripping over the various wires and tubes connected to your body. Hitting the floor hard, you winced as the IV was ripped from your arm. Within seconds, the woman was on top of you, her bloody hands wrapped tight around your throat.

Her eyes were wild and bloodshot. “Selfish child! Selfish child!” She kept repeating the same two words, voice growing louder with each repetition until she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “SELFISH CHILD!”

You couldn’t breathe, struggling to push her off but your hand went through her body like she wasn’t there.

Dots of black started to cloud your vision until you were completely cloaked in darkness.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You shot up in bed, feeling your body enveloped in a cold sweat. Your hand grabbed your throat as you gasped for breath. Warmth surrounded your body and soft words were spoken into your ear. You couldn’t understand what was being said, but they did their job and slowly you started to calm.

A hand gripped your own and you looked up, meeting eyes with your dad. Almost instantly, you looked away from him, unable to face the tears that clung to his cheeks. You looked to your left, where the warmth was coming from, and you felt your body tense up again.

“J-Johnny?”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he held them back with a smile, breathing out deeply as he spoke. “Hey… how are you feeling?” His voice was rough, a clear indication that he had been crying.

“Why are you here?” You hadn’t meant for it to sound so rude, but last time you checked, he was in a different country living the life he wanted.

“What a stupid question,” he laughed, ruffling your hair like he always used to do when you were upset. “I came to make sure you were alright.”

You moved your gaze to the white cotton covering your body. There were so many thoughts and emotions rushing through your body that you felt completely overwhelmed. Anger, pain, guilt, confusion… they swirled together in the pit of your stomach.

Johnny knew you were about to start crying, his eyes flicking to the heart monitor as the rate increased. “Are you hungry? The hospital food sucks, and we’re not technically allowed to bring outside food in for patients, but your nurse is a big fan of NCT so I can probably get her to ignore it. There’s a Taco Bell not too far from here, I know it’s your favorite!”

You could only nod, not trusting your voice.

“Stay here, Johnny. I’ll go and get it.” Your dad announced, giving you a soft peck on the cheek before leaving the room. He knew that he couldn’t comfort you, despite how bad he wanted to. That’s why he made the decision that he did. You knew he felt like a failure as a father and you felt overwhelmed by guilt.

Johnny shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “I brought one of the members with me. He’s really smart, reliable and loves white chocolate.” He paused, mentally slapping himself. Surely after attempting suicide, you didn’t care about conversing with someone about chocolate. “He’s right down the hall, I’ll go grab him.”

When he left the room, you lifted your eyes to the whiteboard. It sat in the exact same place as it had in your dream and the date scrawled on was the same – Tuesday.

‘What was that dream?’, you couldn’t help but wonder. Even the rain was the same, gently sliding down the glass. ‘I was trying to make life easier for everyone, but I’m a selfish child?’

Johnny re-entered the room with another boy. The thing that stuck out the most was his rich blue hair. “This is Doyoung, he’s one of our vocalists. Doyoung, this is Y/N, my best friend.”

You winced at the words. Could you even consider yourself still his friend after all this? Must less his best friend. Surely he had found someone more suitable to the title within his new group.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Doyoung spoke politely in accented English, bowing slightly in respect. He was uncomfortable, feeling like he was intruding on something extremely personal, but Johnny had requested that he come along for support, and that was a request that he couldn’t deny.

The rest of the day was spent with the three men trying to make you smile, at the very least, but you just weren’t in the mood. It was strange – you wanted to be left alone but… at the same time, you didn’t want to be alone.

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You were stuck in the hospital for observation for the next week. Both Johnny and Doyoung stayed with you, allowing your dad to get some rest and go to work. On the day of your release, you and Doyoung waited near the front of the hospital while Johnny ran over to the parking garage to get his rental.

You still felt a bit uncomfortable being alone with him since you didn’t know him well, so your eyes were scanning the area to give you something to do. You happened to glance at a painting on the wall and you felt a cold chill run down your back.

Feeling you tense next to him, Doyoung looked at you with worry. “Are you okay?”

You slowly stood up, approaching the painting. It was her, the woman from your dream. Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow like she had died a long time ago. There a small tag on the bottom of the frame with a name etched into it.

“Matilda Palmer…”

“She looks terrifying,” Doyoung commented as he came up beside you.

“She was quite a nice woman, once upon a time.”

You both turned around, seeing an elderly man looking at the photo sadly. His eyes met yours and he frowned.

“She spoke to you, didn’t she?”

A shiver ran through your body and you moved closer to Doyoung, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of your head. It felt like the painting was burning a hole in your skull and you were too afraid to turn and check on it. Doyoung put his arm around your shoulder, looking at the man skeptically.

“Who… Who is she?” You questioned.

The man folded his hands behind his back, eyes sliding closed. “She haunts this hospital.”

“Haunts?” Doyoung’s grip tightened.

You glanced at him, patting his arm to try and calm him down despite the fact that you felt just as worried. “What happened to her?”

“She went insane after her child killed himself.”

Selfish child, selfish child, SELFISH CHILD!

You threw your hands over your ears as her voice echoed in your head. Having had enough, Doyoung excused himself and all but dragged you to the door of the hospital. Johnny pulled up just as you stepped outside and the pair of you hopped into the backseat.

He looked at you with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a weird man talking about the hospital being haunted…” Doyoung shivered. “Let’s just leave, okay?”

Johnny nodded and took off, tapping the steering wheel lightly. “Y/N? There’s something your dad and I didn’t tell you…”

“What would that be?” You questioned, rubbing your temples. You couldn’t stop thinking about that damned dream.

“We talked it over, and we both agreed that this is the best for you.” He paused, wondering what your reaction would be. “You’re coming back to Korea with us.”

“…Wait, what?!”

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Although you were against the idea at first, you were glad that Johnny had forced you to come to Korea with him. It had been about four months since you moved into a small apartment with him and Doyoung. You expected to be left alone when he was working, but Johnny refused to let you be alone for more than a few minutes and forced you to come along with him. His managers were not happy about this, but it was something he refused to back down on. Doyoung and their leader, Taeyong, also backed him up since they both knew about your situation.

During this time, you had gotten increasingly close to Doyoung, who had made it his personal mission to look after you.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Doyoung questioned, smiling at you as he entered the apartment.

“Are you sure you won’t get into trouble?”

“Positive!” He gently grabbed your hand, tugging you towards the door. “I only had a photo shoot to do today, and I promised we’d go to the park.”

You sighed in defeat, allowing the male to pull you along. Worrying about ruining their careers constantly plagued your mind, but it didn’t seem to bother them. They always made sure to make time for you.

It was midday in Spring, the sun shining in a sea of fluffy white clouds. It was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He led you to a small patch of grass on the outer edge of the park where you both sat comfortably.

He was feeling nervous, despite having been alone with you many times in the past. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You were lying back on the grass, staring up at the clouds.

“Are you happy?” He lightly picked at the grass nervously. “Being here with us, with… me.”

“I’m not sure how to answer that. I feel… fortunate having you guys in my life, but I also feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt that way.”

He turned to lie down next to you, propping his head up in his hand. “Do you mind if I ask…”

“Why did I try to kill myself?” You finished, locking eyes with him. He nodded. “Truthfully, several reasons. I was tired, mostly, but I thought I was doing everyone a favor. I felt like such a burden to my father…”

Hearing those words broke his heart. His hand slid onto of your own, eyes never leaving yours. He wanted to convey his feelings, but he wasn’t sure how you felt and he didn’t want to make you feel burdened. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Sometimes. More than anything, I feel guilty.” You paused for a moment. “Do you remember that painting at the Hospital?”

“How could I forget? It was so creepy,” he shivered, “And what was with that guy?”

“He was right. I did see her.”

His brow furrowed.

“It was in a dream, but I saw her. She kept repeating ‘selfish child’. I didn’t know what it meant until that man explained what happened to her.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with his. “I looked her up online. She only appears to those that have attempted suicide. Her son was depressed and had been hospitalized many times throughout his life for trying to kill himself. Finally, he succeeded… his mother was a wreck and, eventually, she went insane and stabbed the nurse that was looking after her. She was locked away in a padded cell and passed away three days later.”

“I see… that’s a shame.”

“At first, I thought she was just a vengeful spirit, angry about what her son had done, but… she’s trying to stop others from making the same mistakes that her son had.”

“I think… when you kill yourself, you also kill those around you.” He whispered, moving closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. His hand held yours against his chest. “Depression makes you think that others are better off without you, but that’s not the case. I was there when Johnny got the call. It was like his world had shattered. He dropped the phone and fell to his knees in shock. We were about to go on a variety show but he broke down and had to stay backstage.”

You felt tears pricking your eyes as you whispered, “I thought he forgot about me…”

Doyoung shook his head, lifting it so he could smile at you. “Never. He was always telling us stories about things you both did when you were growing up. He felt so guilty when he stopped having time to talk to you, but we were all swamped with our schedules… Even having you here, he’s constantly worrying about you. I do, too…”

“Doyoung…”

“You said you don’t deserve to be happy… I believe everything happens for a reason. Your attempt lead you to me, and I’m determined to show you that you do deserve to be happy. You’re not a burden, you’re a beautiful human being who deserves the world.” He pulled his hand away to rest it on your cheek as he hovered above you. “There’s only one of you in this world, Y/N. And I… I love you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of deceit but there was none. You only found sincerity, warmth and, most importantly, love. Your heart was racing in your rib cage.

“You don’t have to feel the same… I wasn’t planning on confessing.” He laughed awkwardly. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I want to remain friends. I know things are probably awkward now but I just felt like I should – ”

“Doyoung,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

With a smile, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. For the first time in your life, you wanted to keep living. You finally found the will to fight against the darkness.

He pulled away and you smiled brightly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes again. He wiped away your tears.

“I… I want to live.”

The smile that overtook Doyoung’s face was as bright as the sun. His eyes watered as he threw his arms around you, holding your body tight to his own. Four simple words, but it was enough for both of you.

You were tired of being a victim, enslaved by the darkness of depression. You were tired of feeling like a burden and wanting to die. You wanted to fight, to overcome it and, for the first time in your life, you felt confident that you could.

With Doyoung by your side, you were free to start again.

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detective-with-one-arm · 4 years ago

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Loneliness

Depression. Typically, it was just the constant hum that narrated her everyday life. Always there, familiar and heavy, but easily hidden behind a smile or a cheerful exterior.

But this was not one of those instances. This time, it hung heavy on Rachel’s shoulders and pulled her down by the gravity that was sinking her into the couch, idly scratching Bear’s head as she hung there limply. All at once, her mind was whispering all the things she believed about herself. All the things that haunted her. Everything.

But worst of all, was how painfully alone she was. It seemed as though every friendship she’d ever made, with the exception of a few, completely deteriorated because of her own cluelessness. Her own volatility. Her own stubbornness. Her own pain…

She constantly flipped between blaming them for abandoning her and blaming herself for being so unpleasant and unlovable that they couldn’t bear to have her in their lives, anymore. But even after that, she was so sure she’d always have her family there for her. That family was the one rock she could always count on to hold her up.

How wrong she was…

Now, all she had left was Bianca. Everyone she’d ever loved was either dead or estranged. There were only a few left, but that didn’t stop the horrible pang in her chest at just how alone she was. And it was her fault. She knew it deep down that it was her fault.

She was too broken. Too hurt. Too much. Too beaten down to ever be lovable again. She was effectively doomed to be all alone by her own hand.

She was too defective to love.

And this fact hurt. It hurt more than anything and it made everything seem so futile. Her only driving force was eternal servitude to take apart a system that targeted and hurt people like her. But that position only alienated her and isolated her more. And that hurt, too. It was indescribably painful. But why did she think she deserved to be loved when she was so volatile?

She couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face. She would never do it – at least…she thought she would – but the gun in her holster was looking attractive.

Rachel could end it. She could end it all. End all this pain. At least if she were dead, she’d have paid the price she should’ve paid when she turned her back on everything she stood for just to save her own hide.

But she knew better. She knew that when she started thinking like that that she wasn’t well.

The house was cold. The snow was falling outside and none of the lights were on. Rachel just laid on the blanketed couch, immobilized by her own pain and suffering and drenching herself in piteous tears.

So, she pulled her phone out and decided to call Bianca.

Before doing so, she texted her, just to be sure. She knew she didn’t have to, but she didn’t want to burden her sister if she couldn’t deal with it.

Hey, Bianca…can I call you?

Laying back down, she waited, staring up at the white ceiling that was painted in deep blue hues, the sounds of the wind and snow buffeting against her house offering only a mild source of comfort.

After a little while, she felt her phone go off and she checked. Of course.

Making no moves to sit up, Rachel dialed her up and held the phone to her face, waiting for Bianca to pick up. Like usual, there didn’t seem to be any delay.

“Hey, Rachel.”

“Hey…” She could barely muster the energy to talk, exhausted from crying her eyes out, but hearing Bianca’s voice was comforting. “How’s…how’s it going?”

“Good, good. Just having dinner.” Bianca replied, but her tone of voice was telling in that she could tell something was wrong. “Everything okay with work…?”

Rachel shrugged. “Work is…y’know, the usual.”

“Ah, right…” Bianca was no stranger to the horrors that Rachel often had to endure. But she knew better than anyone that once Rachel made a decision, there was no swaying her. “So…what’s up?”

Rachel struggled to find the answer to that. Everything was. Everything was on its head and Rachel felt like she was falling apart at the seams. “I…I miss you, Bianca.” She choked out. “I miss you so much. I miss everyone.” Everything was coming out, now. Everything she’d been holding back and keeping quiet about. “I miss Frank…I miss them so much. I miss dad, and I miss mom, and I miss grandma. And-and-and I miss my friends. I miss them, still. And it just hurts! It just hurts so much and I don’t know how to make it go away! I don’t know how to make it better. I’m so alone and I miss everyone and I try. I try to make friends, but I…I keep ruining my own relationships and I don’t know how to make it stop…”

Swallowing, she devolved into a fresh set of sobs, curling into the couch as her entire body shook and trembled with existential despair. “I’m so alone, Bianca…and everything I do feels so pointless…I used to be so sure about what the right thing to do is, but I’m so lost! I can barely live without them, Bianca…everything just hurts when I know that no one’s waiting for me at home. And every time I remember that I’ll never see Frank again, I just…I just break…

“I keep thinking about what they would do. What they would say.” She continued through her tears. “They would know what the right thing to do, is. They would tell me. They would assure me that I’m doing the right thing or tell me that I need to try something else. And I know I never depended on them, but now that they’re gone, I just…” She curled in on herself. “I don’t know what to do, anymore…I can’t handle feeling like this anymore, and I don’t know how to make it stop…it just hurts…and I’m all alone…”

For a moment, Bianca was silent. Listening to Rachel talk, but she could hear Bianca trying to hold back tears on her end as she listened. “I’m so sorry, Rachel…” She said softly through the phone. “I miss you, too. So much. And I…I miss mom and dad, too. And…” She paused, the next thing she said made Rachel weep silently. “I miss Frank, too.”

Rachel wiped her eyes with the blanket, smudging her glasses. But she didn’t care. She was hurting too much to care. “I’m sorry, I just -”

“Don’t be sorry, Rachel.” Bianca cut her off before she could continue. “You know that I love you, right? You’re not alone. I know it feels like that because of…everything. And right now, you’re in a really tough place, but…I believe in you. And if Frank were here, they’d believe in you, too.” She consoled her younger sister. “They’d be so proud of what you’re trying to do. And they’d be so proud of you for trying so hard. And I know how hard it is for you to be without them…you guys have been through so much together and loved each other so much.”

They did…they really did.

Bianca’s words were comforting. They were exactly what she needed to hear. She always knew what to say to make Rachel feel better.

“Thanks, Bianca…”

“No problem.” She replied, clearly trying to stifle her own tears. She and Frank were close, too. Frank was closer to her own family than theirs. A fact that they were always eager to tell her. “I’m always here for you. Whenever you need me.”

Rachel started to calm down a little, now that she’d gotten out everything she wanted to get out and shuffled up to sit against the armrest. “Have…have you heard from mom?”

Bianca tensed a little before she sighed. “No…like usual.”

Of course. Even after telling herself not to expect anything from their mother after the way she’d treated them in their young adult lives, she still expected something. She still hoped for something. An apology. Begging. Groveling. Something.

But as usual, nothing.

“Right…of course.” Rachel muttered bitterly, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

“You know, you can always drive up here and spend however long you want with me, right?” Bianca offered Rachel in support. She did know. Rachel always knew that Bianca was easily accessible, and that fact made living alone in Detroit a bit easier. “We’ll always be happy to see you. And Annmarie is always gonna be happy to see her aunt Rachel.”

Rachel smiled. Bianca’s four-year-old daughter. She was such a good kid and Rachel adored her to bits, even if being around her made her a little sour about her own family that never was, she’d never take it out on Bianca’s kid. And she’d certainly never show it.

“I know…and I really appreciate that.” Rachel replied gratefully, making sure that Bianca could hear her genuine gratitude. Wiping her eyes and letting out an exhausted sigh, she felt a lot better. She still hurt, but she knew it would pass. “Thanks, Bianca.”

“Of course.” Bianca replied. “I gotta go. But please let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Rachel nodded. “Okay.”

“And remember that you’ve got Hank, too.” Bianca reminded her. “You’re not alone, there. Don’t be afraid to reach out to him if you need someone to actually be…there, with you.”

Rachel smiled. Bianca was right. She wasn’t alone. And if anyone would understand, it would be Hank. “I will. Thanks.”

“Alright.” Bianca huffed. “I’ll let you go. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night, Bianca.”

With that, the phone call ended. And Rachel was alone in the darkness of her house, again. Alone with her harrowing thoughts.

But she wasn’t alone. She just hoped that Hank would be available. So, hesitantly, Rachel sent the lieutenant a text. Hey, Hank? Is it okay if I come over for a bit?

Hopefully he’d be available. If he hadn’t already gone to bed. Or was out drinking. After a little while, Rachel feared it was unavailable before she got a text back from him. Yeah, you can come over. Is everything okay, kid?

Rachel sighed, both in relief and in exhaustion. I just don’t wanna be alone and I could use some company. She replied, but there was a small pit of guilt in her belly. Like she was only a burden to the lieutenant and not worth caring about. I’m sorry if I’m bugging you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Kid, you’re never a bother. Hank replied almost immediately. You’re always welcome. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. We gotta look out for each other.

Rachel scoffed weakly before she responded. Right. She got herself up off the couch and stretched, writing him one last text before getting ready to leave. I’ll be right over. Thanks so much, Hank.

Anytime, kid.

#oc writing #dbh ocs #writing passage #single chapter #{Rachel}

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ichigo777666 · 4 years ago

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FE3H Characters Ranked

My opinions of all the main characters in FE3H ranked from worst to best in my opinion. These are MY opinions! Spoilers ahead, obviously.

*NOTES*

This does not include any of the DLC characters. This also does not include the following characters since they have limited dialog / appearances within the game: Gwendal, Pallardo, Duke Aegir, Anna, Lambert, Ionious, Metodey, Kostas, Holst, Macuil, and Indech. Any other characters who are only mentioned by name are also not included. And Byleth is also not on this list due to being the player’s character.

Everyone else included in this list has a few interactions or mentions in multiple ending paths so they’re fair game. Not having a lot of interactions is not going to affect placement that much so don’t be surprised if some major characters wind up low on the list…

*The PIT*

Aka the worst of the worst. The characters I would throw into the void.

#54 – Leonie

I absolutely hate this character so much. Her personality is so flat and grating that she drives me up a wall. Her character can be summed up in two words “loves Jeralt” – that’s it. Just about everything about Leonie revolves around impressing Jeralt or being like Jeralt or doing this because of Jeralt ect. I don’t care if she’s useful as a playable character – every time she opens her mouth I cringe. Her support which is only available after Jeralt dies in which she berates you for “not appreciating him enough” is just the epitomny of selfishness. Then PTS she basically turns herself into a second Jeralt, replicting his outfit as best she can and giving herself his title “the blade breaker” and adds a 2. Excuse you, but is ANYONE can call themseleves that it’s Byleth, aka Jeralt’s child, not YOU. But she doesn’t care and does it anyway...

#53 – Rodrigue

Oh boy this is going to be a very unpopular opinion but in terms of a character, Rodrigue is kind shit. Rodrigue earns this spot for being the shittiest living parent in the game. His eldest son Glenn dies and his comment on that is how “he died like a true knight”. His first emotional response is pride not remorse. He never mentions how much he loved him or how he misses him: just how proud he was of him… And this pisses off poor Felix. Felix whom gets left ALONE after this happens because Rodrigue decides he’s got to be Dimitri’s mentor / guardian. So he basically straight up abandons his grieving 13 year old son to be the new father figure of the prince. Dimitri was more important to him that his own child. We can all see what the impact of this was on Felix through the game. And then, in Azure Sky, when Rodrigue joins you as a “mentor” character, he lacks all balls. Dimitri is going crazy and acting like a psychopath and Rodrigue doesn’t even really try to do anything about that – he just stands aside and comments on how he’s “changed”. I mean FRICK MAN – your were his guardian, his mentor. TALK TO HIM! But NOOOOOOO! So yeah, Rodrigue sucks!

#52 – Lord Lonato

Speaking of shit parents, here’s another for you! Yes, Lonato was kind enough to allow Ashe and his siblings to live with him, which is the oddest decision ever considering this came about after Lonato caught Ashe sneaking into his castle to steal from him. “I’ll just adopt this thief child”. Despite that act of kindness, he also chose to not tell Ashe the truth about what happened to his son Christophe; that Christophe was not involve with the Duscar incident but rather had been a part of a plot to try and kill Rhea. Lonato could not bring himself to believe that his son was wrong or had done anything wrong. Despite the fact that his son had decided, for whatever reason, to try and kill someone, Lonato thought that this was okay. He then sacrificed himself for the sake of trying to avenge his true son instead of continuing to care for the children he’d taken in. He basically took Ashe & his siblings in, giving them security for the first time in years, then chooses to follow his only wrong beliefs and thus put Ashe & his siblings back into the world again. He gave them 7 years of security and this just went “oh well, you’re on your own again”.

#51 – Gilbert / Gustave

And rounding out the “shit parents” section of the list, we have the father that literally abandons his daughter and wife due to own depression. He’s totally alive and out there but just can’t bring himself to give a crap about either or write them any letters. Nope, he’s caught up in his head that he wasn’t there during the tragedy of Duscar, of how he “should have arrived sooner”. I mean, really? It is in now way his fault just because he’s a knight. He wasn’t supposed to be there and he’s got guilt that he wasn’t there? Seriously man?! And then when he finally does reunite with Annette all he does is push her away. Instead of letting Annette decide whatever she wants to be around him again, he chooses for her and denies her attempts to reconnect with him. Yeah, shit father…

*The Bottom of the Barrel*

These characters are bad. They’re not absolute utter garbage like the PIT characters, but they still are awful.

#50 – Dimitri

Yeah, I don’t like Dimitri. What is there to like about this guy? He was traumatized as a teenage when his dad was killed in-front of him and that changed him into a survival-guilt ridden bloodthirsty killer? Jeez, it honestly feels like someone tried to ft a whole bunch of tropes into one cohesive character and failed massively. The whole “brooding” phase in Azure Sky where he’s basically a tantrum throwing 5 year old only makes him worse. Also, I still don’t understand WHY he immediately jumped to the whole “Edelgard is the one who killed my parents” conclusion. The entire Duscar incident had nothing to do with Edelgard, unless Dimitri thinks a teenager with no power could do that. And, if he’s blaming the Empire, why does that extend to Edelgard who was just a princess at the time? I could see if something like the FE was present and that’s why he went crazy after Edelgard but I’m pretty sure the FE didn’t exist back then… so WTF? This is like “my parents were killed by a drunk driver. Hey you, unrelated person who just learned to drive this year, you are drunk therefore I HATE YOU – you killed my parents!” Really, no. NO.

#49 – Acheron

He has a minor role only but you fight him twice and you can get some background from Lorenz. He’s annoying and I guess he’s designed to be so. I don’t like him much. But he’s not as annoying as Dimitri.

#48 – Cyril

Oh Cyril. He’s such an annoying character. He’s a more toned down version of Leonie with his obsession with Rhea. He’s a bit of a jerk during his support conversations and he’s dismissive of his homeland. I think his supports with Seteth best show what Cyril’s all about: he’s devoting himself to repaying Rhea without thought for anything else, even his own future. He has no ambitions and no desires….how can a character be so bland?

#47 – Hannerman

And the obsessive one. ‘Obsession with Crests’ is just the only phrase you need to describe Hannerman. While I can understand why Hannerman as a character wants to research crests, the way he goes about it is just wrong. He hounds Lysithia w/o realizing why she’s avoiding his questions until she basically has to spell out WHY she’s uncomfortable with talking about it. He’s been hounding Seteth for 21 years about his crest and Flayn’s too. 21 fricking years of bothering someone and he can’t understand the answer “no”.

#46 – Arundel

Yeah, he’s a piece of shit but at least he’s interesting. He’s Edelgard’s uncle and yet he basically allowed her to be experimented on. Why? Who knows? He’s associated with TWSITD but why? Power? Conquest? He’s mysterious. His personality “suddenly changed” leaving the option open that he was replaced and the Arundel that exists now is a fake. He’s intriguing but he’s still a piece of crap.

#45 – Dedue

Oh Dedue. I feel like Dedue is stuck playing the “victim” card but without looking for sympathy. He’s from Duscar so everyone looks down on him...and Dedue just takes it. He doesn’t try to defend himself or say that just because he’s from Duscar doesn’t mean he’s evil. He does nothing to try and change anyone’s opinions – he’s content to just sit and take it. But then he talks about wanting to have the world move past the tragedy….so which is it Dedue? In order to have it change, you need to actually DO SOMETHING!!!!

#44 – Thales

The weakest character of the main three. The game tells you almost nothing about Thales...and then you go and read the wiki and find out he’s Arundel….yeah mind telling us that game?! So he’s higher than Arundel.

#43 – Nemesis

Another evil character with no personality or real background. Why did he start his rampage? Was he manipulated or just evil? Who knows….

#42 – Judith

Judith has such a small role unless you’re playing VW. And in VW she’s a bit of a bitch who treats Claude as a misbehaving child even after he proves himself again and again.

#41 – Nader

AKA the Alymrian general you meet briefly in VW and in CF. He’s in for less than a few minutes and he appears to be jolly/happy and has the rep of being an undefeated general. I guess he’s alright. But with no real role I can’t bring myself to feel anything for him

#40 – Annette

When I first played I was on the fence with Annette. I sorta liked her determination and her drive to reunite her family. But then her singing started...and oh boy do I hate her singing. So many of her supports center around that annoying singing! Just STOP already, please! Also WTF is that blue “tab” in her PTS redesign that’s right on her butt? It’s the only one...

#39 – Ferdinand

Ferdinand’s personality is just...annoying. From his meme’d battle line to his constant talk of “being a noble” he just grates my nerves. And why does he act like this? Because his father is not and he’s trying to not be like his father and be a “good person”….

*The Low-End*

These characters are “eh” characters. They’re aren’t too good or too bad...but they lean more towards bad than good.

#38 – Kronya / Monica

This was an interesting idea. I just wish she had been more involved or usable. Like if you’re playing BE house, she becomes a playable member. Something to endear her a bit more other than “this other random character you rescued who acts suspiciously”. Let’s face it, we all knew something was up with her. And then she’s killed off so easily and quickly...

#37 – Cornelia

Okay, she’s a bit interesting and a manipulator. They weren’t afraid to give her an “ugly face”. She’s a schemer and not afraid to flaunt her assets to give her an advantage.

#36 – Alois

Eh. Alois. Loves jokes, very loyal. I guess he’s alright but he’s not spectacular and some of the jokes and just so so so so so so bad.

#35 – Ashe

Ashe is another character that I think lacked development. I mean he just gained a slight bit of confidence and purpose but he’s not one for much change. His personality over all is a bit bland: he likes stories about knights and is worried about his siblings. Oh and he used to be a thief.

#34 – Jeritza

Bland because he’s meant to be bland. His other personality is typical “killer knight”. What saves Jeritza is his support conversations where you get background and you realize why he’s the way he is.

*The Middle Ground*

These characters are right in the middle. Not great but not awful.

#33 – Ladislava

In every ending except CF, you only get to see her once but in CF you can chat with her and learn more about her. She’s the head of Edelgard’s person guard and its heavily implied she had next to nothing before this appointment. She’s fully loyal to Edelgard, even willing to die for her cause.

#32 – Flame Emperor

I listed this character separate since FE is an enigma. I actually liked the design of the FE and the whole mystery surrounding them.

#31 – Manuela

I’m...ambivalent about Manuela. She’s a drunken whiner at time and other time she turns into something sweet and reliable. She’s so worried about her age but she’s NOT that old. It’s a bit trope-y though...to have an older character all concerned about her age.

#30 – Jeralt

Jeralt’s a good dad character albeit a flawed one too. It’s a shame they didn’t give him any support conversations to flesh him out more. As it is most of what we learn about Jeralt comes from others.

#29 – Sothis

I don’t hate Sothis like most. She’s a bit bratty, yes but look at from her way – she’s got no memories, no recollections, and has found herself somehow stuck with this person. She tries to help out Byleth best she can, even if it sometimes leads to near disaster.

#28 – Gatekeeper

A nice wholesome character who always wants to help out and be useful. He’s a nice guy but suffers from lack of characterization.

#27 – Mercedes

First off, I dislike the “breathy” quality of her voice. She’s a very nice girl and very kind...but that’s about all there is to Mercedes...

#26 – Raphael

Ah, the big guy who loves to eat. He’s overprotective but not too overprotective of his little sister. He’s strong, interested in his muscles, and in getting stronger but it’s because he’s shouldering the responsible of taking care of his sister. Still he’s a bit trope-y.

#25 – Lindhardt

Lindhardt make up your dang mind! He talks about wanting to study crests but when he’s offered by two separate people to do just that he complains about how he’s being “tied down”. Really? His laziness and sleepiness also gets tired after a while.

#24 – Ignatz

Ignatz is a character who shows a lot of growth and goes from having no confidence in what he wants to do to finding his path. However Ignatz remains a pushover who gives in to whatever anyone advises even when he knows its wrong. It takes a long, long, long time for Ignatz to learn to have any say in himself...which is why he’s down here.

#23 – Solon

The most developed of the three main TWSITD characters. I feel his reveal as Tomas was ruined by the poorly executed Monica / Kronya earlier. However he was unexpected. Who expects the librarian? It would have been better if they didn’t have him as “suspect” in the whole Flayn is missing part through.

#22 – Randolph

You only really get to know Randolph in CF although he’s got a minor part in AS where we see that he truly cares for his sister and how he feels he must do this, even if he risks dying. In CF, we get to learn more about Randolph. He’s actually a step-uncle to Caspar through his mother marrying into the family. He has no power or clout so everything he earns is done by action. It’s a shame they killed him off so early.

#21 – Caspar

Caspar is a good character in several ways. He’s not depressed about not being the heir to his house and is motivated to find his own way. He knows he’s flawed and in his supports he tries to change only to learn that he’s better off following his own path. It’s his boisterous yelling and charging headfirst into danger is what I don’t like about him.

*The High Side*

These are characters I like. They’re not the best but I like them and can understand them.

#20 – Hilda

Ah Hilda. Hilda’s one of those characters that surprise you. Hilda starts off being this lazy character who doesn’t want to battle and doesn’t want to do chores. Not because she can’t do them, but just because she’s lazy. You see her trying to get out of things in her supports only to either feel guilty or wind up helping someone learn something. But I think where Hilda shines is in VW where she acts as Claude’s “advisor” and some of Claude’s best plans come from suggestions from Hilda. By then she’s come into her own. I also enjoy Hilda’s C support with Seteth greatly where he just lists all the excuses she’s given flat out as Hilda gets more and more nervous.

#19 – Claude

Claude made it up here due to his unprediacbility. Some of his plots/schemes are downright hillarious. Claude is unashamed of who he is and where he comes from – he knows who he is and who he wants to become. And, in a game riddled with characters who struggle with that very issues, Claude’s a bit of a breath of fresh air.

#18 – Fleche

Ah Fleche. She’s a very minor character but she’s got such an impact on the story in AM – this is what path we’re going to discuss. We first meet Fleche when she’s talking with Randolph, her brother, right before Randolph heads out on a mission that will ultimately end with his death. Instead of doing the typical thing for a young girl which is to cry, Fleche goes ‘nah’ and decides to take revenge. She disguises herself as a “maiden” and goes to try and join the Kingdom Army; she’s allowed to by Dimitri. Fleche bides her time and waits until after a big battle and then straight up goes and tries to murder Dimitri. She actually stabs him once and barely fails in her task of killing him. Against Dimitri, one of the strongest characters... a little girl.. Yeah, Fleche is kinda badass.

#17 – Miklan

Okay, so here’s another good sympathetic villain character. Miklan was born with no crest so he was looked down upon by his family. He was the first child however so his family kept him...at least until his brother Sylvain was born with a crest. Then Milan became “garbage” and useless in the eyes of his family and thus was disinherited. He lashed out against his brother multiple times. With no one on his side, Milkan became the leader of a group a bandits and began taking things he wanted, things he felt he should have had, by any means necessary. He later stole the heirloom lance from his family, intent of keeping it and its power for himself. While it’s true Miklan is not a nice person at all, more like a sadist, the reason he became that way was due the treatment of his family.

#16 – Dorothea

I am in the camp of the very few who like Dorothea’s second outfit better than her first – that dress is boss. Some of her supports are downright sweet and her interactions with Ingrid in their paralogue are just adorable. I love how we get to see so many different sides of Dorothea and how she treats each of her aquantinces with the side of herself that’s most appropiate.

#15 – Shamir

The silent Shamir. Unlike so many characters who talk and talk and talk, Shamir only speaks when necessary until she gets close to someone. Her skills are top-knotch, which is showcased in her supports. Her personality is a reflection of her work and the kind of jobs she does as well as her way of protecting herself. She’s mysterious and deadly.

#14 – Rhea

Oh Rhea. I’m often torn in the way I feel about her, going from understanding to becoming frustrated with her within the span of a single conversation. Her desire to see her mother is what drives everything she does �� every single thing. She is 100% committed to trying to reach her goal, no matter the cost, and she’s been at it for almost an eon. Outside of that goal, what she’s doing she truly believes is the right thing. She’s trying to guide people towards the right path and away from conflict. She lets no one truly into her innermost thoughts, not even Seteth, and her emotions are all sequested away, so much so that when they do come out it becomes obvious. I mean, for anyone who thinks she’s nuts, let’s take a look at some of the trauma she’s gone through. Her beloved mother, whom she obviously cared for more than anything, was murdered and her body was used to make a weapon. Said weapon was then used to slaughter the vast majority of her brethern who were then in turn alos turned into weapons to be used to kill. She had to then fight the man who had killed her mother to reclaim what’s left of her body and to stop any more pointless killing. Yeah, Rhea’s had it rough.

#13 – Marianne

Ah, sweet Marianne. It was great to watch her change and grow based on her supports with the other characters. Her caring nature towards the animals, espcially the horses, was lovely – she even knows the names of a few of them (the only one to refer to the horses by name). I like how her PTS outfit reflects the changes she’s overcome – even the subtly of making her hair neater.

#12 – Catherine

Badass female knight with a legendary sword. She’s brash, not lady-like, and not afraid of anything really. The way she rushes into combat w/o a though for danger, the fact that she doesn’t try and hide her past from the person whom it affects the most, and her way of testing people. Catherine’s great.

#11 – Hubert

Juts missing the top 10 is loyal Hubert. I’ll admit I didn’t like Hubert at first but he grew on me bit by bit. Hubert’s S-Support with Byleth is like the cutest thing ever – I was not expecting it at all. This is loyalty done in a good way.

*The Summit*

The best characters in the game, IMO. These are the characters I love!

#10 – Petra

I got to admit, I like her not-perfect talking. That’s so much of Petra’s charm. Adding to that is how Petra’s always trying her best and trying to advance herself. She has modest goals she wishes to reach and doesn’t try and sell herself as better than she is. She’s always willing to learn and to help others. When there’s someone with a different opinion, Petra tries to understand why they feel the weay they feel and to try and find common ground.

#9 – Lysithia

Oh poor girl. Lysithia struggles with others seeing her as a child or too childish due to the fact that she’s younger than most of the students. She’s incredibly intellegent and throws herself into her studies. Both of these things lead to others teasing her, either playfully or actually. Instead of taking it stride, this ‘teasing’ causes her temper to show and erupt. She can’t tell them WHY she’s trying so hard, why she’s so desperate to achieve cause that would reveal her secret. She’s burrying all this hurt and anger deep inside that she can’t talk about because can understand what she went through (except perhaps Edelgard). And even though she knows she’s going to likely die soon, she’s not focused on her own life: she’s doing all she’s doing to try and help her family...

#8 – Sylvain

Sylvain quickly became one of my favorite blue lion boys. At first glance he looks like this degenerate womanizer...and then you learn abut him and why Sylvain is why he is. His father views him as a studhorse and that his crest is the only good thing about him; his father literally cannot see Sylvain as an actual person, just a way to further the family. Having a father like this and a brother who hates him for having been born with a crest has greatly shaped Sylvain. In order to have some semblence of himself, Sylvain began to act out, to do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he could to not be what he was supposed to be. His father wanted a noble son; Sylvain did everything he could to not be that. This got him into trouble again and again but Sylvain didn’t care. Sylvain is willing to do things that make others look down upon him if it helps him try and escape from his life...

#7 – Bernadetta

Aw, Bernie. Bernie’s such a good girl. Based on what she went through, it’s amazing she’s even sane. Her father’s idea of parenting was tying her to a chair and forcing her to remain quiet and submissive for hours, to “teach her to be a good wife” which is the reason she turned into such a nervous wreck of shut-in. He resorted to beating to near death a boy she made friends with because he was a commoner, which terrified Bernie into not wanting to make friends at all. Bernie’s mom seemed to have a little sense and smuggled her out but this is only AFTER she allows this stuff to go on for years – YEARS. Bernie’s had years of psycological trama inflicted on her and then she gets thrust into a school surrounded by people whom she has to interact with. The poor thing. It’s a testament to her professors and friends to see how far Bernie has come; to watch her change and grow as she slowly comes around to adjusting to normality.

#6 – Ingrid

There is something incredibly entertaining about a lady knight who loves to gorge herself on food. Loving eating food is generally a character trait you see on guys (typically big guys like Raphael) so to see it on a chick is a good change of pace. Her whole no-nonsense strict attitude is a great contrast to that. She’s not girly or into very lady-like things such as dresses or makeup or tea parties. Ingrid is a guy’s soul in a girl’s body….and she’s amazing.

#5 – Felix

If you haven’t read the entry for Rodrigue (he’s #53 on this list) go read that first. After all that shit that Felix’s gone through, it’s amazing he’s even still standing and capable. He’s stewing with anger and grief that he’s never been able to work through and it manifests as anger and his stand-off attitude. Poor freaking Felix.

#4 – Flayn

Fishy Queen. I do not get the hate for Flayn. She’s been horribly oversheleted by Seteth in his attempts to protect her so it’s left Flayn a bit naive. Flayn’s usually very cheery and happy which is a bright light in the depressing war times. She’s also a quite capable mage, mainly with healing magic but she can also learn a good bit of reason magic too. Flayn is always trying her best while trying to fit in with the others – she’s over 1000 years old, mind you! It can’t be easy trying to fit in when you don’t understand and when a vast majorirty of those years were spent asleep. She was involved in an ancient battle where she was badly injured (Seteth blames it on her being too young) and requires sleep inorder to heal. Meanwhile everyone else she knew and lived with aside from Seteth was killed. She wakes up an everything she knew and just about everyone she knew is just...gone. Not only her beloved mother but any friends she had too are just gone. It’s no wonder she fears falling asleep when this is what happened. Her obession with fish? It’s Flayn’s coping mechanism for dealing with the loss of her mother. Flayn explains on numerous occassions that she spent lots of time sitting with her mother while she fished and that fish is her favorite food due “to no small part” of this pastime. Fishing and eating fish is Flayn’s way of remembering her mother and dealing with the fact that she’s no longer with her. Flayn’s supports are just great; they all develop her personality more. With Dimitri and Dedue, Flayn’s cooking is explored. Flayn can’t cook although she tries her best. With Dedue, Flayn tries to learn to cook better. With Dimitri, Flayn expresses her disdain that no one enjoys her cookings and how this wastes food, even when she tries her best. Obviously Flayn never cooked before – her mother did most of it. Now there’s no one in her family to cook so Flayn’s trying to learn to try and follow in her mom’s footsteps. With Ignatz and Manuela, Flayn’s exploring things she never has seen or done before: the opera for Manuela and paintings with Ignatz. In Claude’s and Lindhardt’s supports, Flayn sidesteps questions about her heritage and her crests. With Sylvain, we see how Flayn grows and learns to not trust the rumors others say. In Felix’s, she’s trying to help Felix find a purpose after the war ends that still allows him to use his sword. With Raphael’s it’s Flayn who’s being helped by Raphael as she tries to “grow stronger”; she even mentions how she’s frail and how this worries Seteth. And then there’s Ferdinand’s supports where it’s clear Flayn’s been starved of physical affections aside from Seteth. And their supports, between Seteth and Flayn, are a great progression between the two...Overall, I love little Flayn.

#3 – Lorenz

I like noble boy. I will admit, I hated his schooldays haircut with a burning passion...and then man on man did he become HOT pts. Winner of the best boy glow-up. A lot of Lorenz’s character flaws are the fault of his father. His father taught him that all that is important is being nobility and Lorenz ate it up, not knowing any better. His father instilled into him how he neeed to find a wife to further the family’s influence and thus how she must be a noble. This worked so well on Lorenz to the point that he willing to even give up someone he loves if they happen to be a commoner. Lorenz spends a lot of time trying to ‘interview’ girls to find his perfect noble bride, coming off as a bit on an ass – even when he’s confronted by Byleth he refuses to believe he’s done anything wrong since this is what his father taught him to do. It takes a long time until Lorenz starts seeing that he is wrong that what his father taught him is wrong. He starts using his own head and his own eyes to determine what is instead of using the opinion blasted into him by his father. He’s always trying to help other, feeling it’s his obligation as a noble to help those around him, which is a quality that he alone seems to take seriously (despite the school being filled with nobles). He originally dislikes Claude cause he believes that Claude isn’t taking his responsibility as the next Alliance head seriously since Claude is so laid back. He eventually comes to see that, despite appearances, Claude is working on the issues and is capable. His S support with Byleth where he mentions how he has "worked tirelessly to improve" "to become a man truly worthy of (Byleth)" and then is uttely shocked if Byleth tells him he already was worthy shows how dedicated he can be. With Ignatz, he instills confidence in him, seeing talent in Ignatz for art and talking about how there is more to knighthood than combat. His poetry writing comes out with Manuela’s supports and he convinces Hilda through actions to actually throw herself into battle. But I think his best supports are with Marianne. The vast majority of her supports are the others telling her to “be more confident” or “smile more” or other such things where they give her advice on how to improve...but Lorenz is the only one who comes to see that nothing needs to change. He starts by complementing her and then commenting on how she “needs polish” only to realize he was wrong and state she is “becautiful just the way she is”, accepting her fully for who she is without looking to change a thing. He is, essentially, telling her she is perfect the way she is and she doesn’t need to change at all for him to love her...which I find just so utterly sweet.

#2 – Edelgard

Edel gets a lot of hate but I honestly love her character so much. Edelgard is a doer not someone who sits by and does nothing. Due to things outside of her (and her father’s) control, she would up the victim in an experiment, a experiment that killed all of her siblings. Edelgard alone survived although at a cost. That experience forever changed her. Gone was the child and in her place rose Lady Edelgard. Unlike Lysithia who is dealing with her similar situation by trying to provide for her family before her time runs out, Edelgard isn’t. Her goal is the destruction of the circumstances that caused the experiment as well as those who caused the experiment to happen upon her so that this cannot happen again to anyone else. Since the experiment were done to give crests and since Edelgard has obviously seen how some children are treated whent hey have / do not have one, she aims to destroy all of that. Edelgard is literally stomping her foot down and saying ‘no, this isn’t a good or fair system and I’m not going to stand around and let it continue’. She’s willing to sacrifice everything to attain this goal, even if it turns her into a monster or ends in her death. Instead of waiting for the world to change, Edelgard decides to BE the change. She knows she’s going to be responsible for the deaths of a lot of people and she clearly struggles with the idea of this but in the end she decides that if she does nothing than that number will be greater so she persists. She burries her desire for friends and for love because she can’t bring herself to trust or rely on others – her father loved her but couldn’t protect her; the nobles in her father’s court are resonsible for hurting her too. They had her trust and they betrayed it. Her heart has been broken already; I don’t think she wants to risk it breaking again by trusting someone who will betray her, by making friends who can abandon her, by falling in love with someone who doesn’t understand what she’s doing. In CF when you side with Edelgard, you get to see more of that emotion slowly come out. Think on the PTS reunions: Dimitri was in disbelief and then apathetic that Byleth was alive; Claude was slightly surprised but then glad; Edelgard though broke down. Edelgard was the only one to get so emotional over Byleth’s return – someone she had trusted whom had returned that trust wasn’t dead after all; there wasn’t another corpse to add to the pile of people she cared for. And in that final animatic where Byleth falls – she’s clearly so upset. She’s crying, clearly devistated. Devistation which turns into laughter when Byleth revives because she can’t believe it. I stand by my opinion that Crimson Flower is the canon ending for FE3H. It’s the only ending where the endings song is different; all 3 other paths have the same song “Edge of Dawn” but not CF – you get something different. Add to that that EoD is sung by Edelgard. And let’s not forget the symbolism. The game is Fire Emblem. What’s a fire emblem? Crest of Flames. Who posess this crets out of the main cast: Byleth & Edelgard. And in CF you unite. Also notice the same letters. Crimson Flower (CF) & Crest of Flames (CF). That’s not a coincidence.

#1 – Seteth

I honestly could fill pages on why I love Seteth as a character but for here I’ll try and keep it shortish. I’ll start with his supports. Seteth’s supports are all about his advice to the others and him trying to guide them. For Cyril, he’s talking about how it’s great to repay debts but it is also important to consider one’s future as well; he doesn’t want to see Cyril just waste his whole life in servitude to Rhea but rather to grow into his own. With Catherine, it’s concern over her safety, over how she throws herself into battle without care for the consequences. For Manuela, it starts with a lecture over her drinking habits but turns into something far more personal when his wife and daughter get mentioned. Outside of the paralogue, this is the only time an outside person gets to learn that Seteth even had/has a wife and daughter and it’s Manuela who gets told it, implying a deeper friendship. Hannerman’s involves his investiagtion of Seteth’s crest and how Seteth is constantly refuting him, obviously trying to protect himself and Flayn from others finding out the truth. With Leonie, he teaches her how to relax while fishing while she improves his own skills in the area. For Hilda, he’s trying to improve her work ethic first by confronting her about her excuses, and then by writing a story about her laziness...which does work somewhat as it gets her to work on illustrations. For Ingrid, he’s a voice of reason about the demands of her father and he’s the one who suggests that Ingrid simply talk to him about her issues, something which she didn’t consider. For Felix, he’s trying to help Felix realize his beliefs are holding him back and that he needs to make friends. With Bernie, he helps her build some confidence in her own skills and talents. And of course we can’t forget his interactions with Flayn where he goes from overly protective, to realizing he’s a bit too overbearing, to actual apologizing for that. Seteth acts as a conduit or a spark that helps inspire change in those around him, to wake up potential, or to see things differently. He’s strict and often seems somewhat unreasonable about rules and regulations but its obvious this is his way of trying to protect people. He’s shouldering massive guilt over the events that happened in the last war. He personally blames himself for Flayn being hurt and for his wife dying. This event spurred him on to becoming overprotective of his daughter, of the only thing he had left. Seteth is doing what he’s doing to PROTECT his child (unwilling to see her to come to harm), even if he’s going about it in the incorrect way. He has literally devoted his whole life to protecting Flayn to the point that when she gets kidnapped, he falls apart at the seams and is unable to do anything at all except despair and distress. Flayn has become his whole world and just about everything Seteth does is to protect her or help her. That kind of devotion from a father is incredible, especially in a series where most of the parents kinda suck. I also adore how he breaks the typical “paper-skinned mage” trope. Let’s face it, most of us probably thought the stern chuch advisor was likely going to be a mage – and then we get a wyvern rider with a lance. I could go on and on, but I’ll leave it here. Seteth is just the best character.

...this was 18 pages of writing.....

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questionsonislam · 5 years ago

Note

What Hazrat Muhammad (PBUH) Brought to the Mankind?

Every period of time is dark when the creed of oneness is rocked because when belief in Allah, which is the light of the skies and the earth, is not dominant over people, the spirit and conscience of people become pitch-black. Since the quality of the looking by such a heart and conscience at things and events is short-sighted and blurry, that person will live in a dark world like bats.

In a period when the religion and all of the principles of religion were rocked to its foundations and the heavenly religions were distorted by their followers, maybe a few people believed in only one God, whom they could not name and know and hence they could not worship; however, they were so weak that nobody noticed them.

Idolatry in Jahiliyyah

All polytheists took pride in worshipping their idols that filled the Kaaba and consoled themselves. Those who had a little knowledge said that they regarded those idols as a means to approach them to Allah. This issue is expressed as follows in a verse:

“We only serve them in order that they may bring us nearer to Allah.” (az-Zumar, 39/3)

Thus, the feeling of worshipping that was placed in the body of man as a trust was misused and betrayed again. People worshipped trees, stones, soil, the sun, the moon and stars; they even worshipped the idols that they themselves made out of food like halva and cheese for a while and then ate them when they felt hungry.

The Quran expresses that groundless thought and old understanding as follows:

“They serve, besides Allah, things that hurt them not nor profit them, and they say: "These are our intercessors with Allah." Say: "Do ye indeed inform Allah of something He knows, not in the heavens or on earth?― Glory to Him! and far is He above the partners they ascribe (to Him)!” (Yunus, 10/18).

“Is it not to Allah that sincere devotion is due? But those who take for protectors other than Allah (say): "We only serve them in order that they may bring us nearer to Allah." Truly Allah will judge between them in that wherein they differ. But Allah guides not such as are false and ungrateful.” (az-Zumar, 39/3).

They looked of excuses for their superstitious thoughts. Their biggest excuse was that their fathers did the same thing:

“When it is said to them: "Follow what Allah hath revealed" they say: "Nay! we shall follow the ways of our fathers." What! even though their fathers were void of wisdom and guidance?” (al-Baqara, 2/170).

Tragedy of Daughters

Another bad deed belonging to the Era of Jahiliyyah (Ignorance) is narrated as follows in the Quran:

“When news is brought to one of them, of (the birth of) a female (child), his face darkens, and he is filled with inward grief! With shame does he hide himself from his people, because of the bad news he has had! Shall he retain it on (sufferance and) contempt, or bury it in the dust? Ah! what an evil (choice) they decide on?!..” (an-Nahl, 16/58-59).

Yes, when one of them was informed that he had a daughter, he would be furious; therefore, his face would darken and he would feel ashamed of himself to walk around and to be seen by others due this bad news. He found this news so bad that he would wish to disappear, hide somewhere and feel obliged to endure either of the following alternatives, hesitate and make a decision: to endure the humiliating situation in the society and let the girl live or to eliminate her in order to save His honor.

Women were disdained like that during the Era of Jahiliyyah; this contempt and despising did not prevail among Arabs only. It was the same in Roman and Sassanid Empires. Therefore, it can be said that the amazing determination and revolution of Islam regarding women among Jahiliyyah Arabs is a matchless operation in terms of women all over the world.

Yes, the Quran confronted that savagery and prohibited people from killing their children no matter why and how:

“Kill not your children on a plea of want;― we provide sustenance for you and for them.” (al-An’am, 6/151).

It looks as if God Almighty addressed them as follows: Why do you kill your children? I provide sustenance for you and for them. Do you not see that the earth is presented to you in the forms of thousands of dinner tables? The sky is always ready to help you. Who can send the clouds to give you rain and snow and make millions of kinds of plants sprout but Me? Although you know all of them, why, based on what conscience, justice and mind, do you kill your children? Do not forget that those who do so will never deserve to be addressed by Allah; however, those innocent children will be addressed by Allah and they will be asked why they were killed, and those cruel people who killed their children will definitely be punished. The following verse tells us about the ethics of that period with its terrible creepiness, “When the female (infant) buried alive, is questioned― For what crime she was killed.” (at-Takwir, 81/8-9)

Once a Companion came to the presence of the Messenger of Allah and narrated that savagery as follows: “O Messenger of Allah! During the Era of Jahiliyyah, we used to bury our daughters alive. I had a daughter. I said to her mother, ‘Dress her; I will take her to her uncle’. (The woman knew what it meant. Her beloved daughter would be thrown into a pit and she would die there struggling to breathe. Unfortunately, the mother had no right or authority to prevent it. The only thing she could do was to cry for her daughter). My wife did what I had asked her. The girl thought she was really going to visit her uncle and was running about joyfully. I held her hand and took her to the pit that I had dug. I told her to look into the pit. Just as she was about to look, I kicked her back and she fell into the pit. However, she managed to get hold of the edge of the pit. On the one hand, she was struggling to be saved; on the other hand, she said, ‘Dad! Your clothes got dusty’ and was trying to shake the dust off my clothes. I kicked her a second time and buried her alive.”

While the man was narrating it, the Messenger of Allah and the people around him started to cry sobbingly. One of the people there said to the man, “Hey, man! You made the Messenger of Allah sad!” the Messenger of Allah said, “Narrate it again.” The man narrated it again. The tears of the Prophet ran down to his beard. The Messenger of Allah made the man narrate the incident again because he wanted to make the people around realize this: “You were like that before Islam. I made him narrate it again so that you will remember the humanity Islam has made you gain!”

As it is seen in that tragic example, the humankind was undergoing a terrible crisis at that time; along with thousands of disgusting incidents in the darkness of the desert, deep pits would be dug and many innocent children would be buried alive and die in those pits. Human beings had become worse than hyenas in terms of savagery. A toothless being had no right to live; it was bound to be torn to pieces by the sharp teeth of a toothed being. The society was undergoing a depression. There was nobody to stop that depression.

Values that had Changed

The society was in such a terrible state that;

- all of the humane values had been reversed,

- virtues were started to be regarded as faults, and faults and sins were started to be regarded as virtues.

- Savagery had been applauded and humanity had been despised; sheep were suffering due to the torture of merciless shepherds.

- Prostitution and fornication were so common that many people did not know who their fathers were. The pedigrees and family lines of people had disappeared.

- Alcohol and gambling were not things to be ashamed of.

- Despising people and humiliating them were regarded as something normal; bleeding people dry through various speculations were considered as a skill and cleverness.

There was a need for a person of efficient speech to stop all those things. The need was so urgent that the mercy of Allah took action and Hazrat Muhammad (pbuh) was sent with the duty of prophethood; with his advent, everything changed.

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years ago

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Lance didn’t see it as running away. “Running away” suggested he could run, not simply rolling himself around in the wheelchair that Shiro insisted he use until he was safely out of sight. He hadn’t given up his baby sitting duties, not once Krolia was released from the pod, nor when Curtis was released. His friends were all being overly careful not to mention Keith’s status. A status that had only sent him into a deeper pit of depression. After a movement in the damn pod, Keith had finally been released. Lance should have been happy, his husband was released after all... only, he hadn’t woken. One quintant ticked into the next, then the next... and the next, and into a whole new movement. Keith had been left in a coma, despite being placed into a pod within vargas of the attack. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He could touch him. He could hold him, but no matter what he did, Keith wouldn’t respond. Now Lance was striking out on his own... through a series of what Keith would call “bad choices”. First came disregarding Shiro’s insistence that he rest. Keith was moved into the same room as him and Curtis, and after what had felt like a movement of hellish torment, all he’d wanted to do was curl up with his husband. At the time, no one had predicted that Keith wouldn’t rouse from his stint in the pod. Cuddling into him, Lance had been determined to be there when he woke. Then when Keith hadn’t, he’d gone slightly mad... slapping his unconscious husband hard across the face when he refused to wake up and show him those deep amethyst eyes he loved so dearly. Shiro had pulled him off, ordered him to sleep in his own bed, livid with him for his actions. That was when he started planning. Feeling guilty that his boyfriend had woken when Keith hadn’t, Lance had managed to get his comms returned to him by manipulating that guilt uncomfortably, he’d then called through to obstetrician and okayed the surgery that he hadn’t wanted when Keith was there to babysit him and keep a watch for any symptoms he may miss. Surrounded by friends and family, he shouldn’t have felt as alone in his pregnancy as he did. Without Keith to ground him, he felt lost and reckless. He had no idea what to do or what choices to make. He didn’t have the right words to make everyone around him feel better. Pity was plastered on the face of everyone who’d visited him, Zethrid and Ezor were no exception to that. No one wanted to look him in the eyes, leaving him feeling like he was a leper shunned from society. Shay has tried to perk him up by finally asking what an Earth wedding was like, that soon came to an end when Shiro shooed her off “because Lance needs his rest”. He didn’t need rest. He didn’t want rest. He didn’t want Shiro pestering him over if he wanted Coran or Miriam to come stay with him while he was confined to his hospital room. His Mami had made it very clear that she wanted him to come back to Earth while Keith lay there comatose. Veronica had explained everything to her, he could see it in her eyes as when they’d spoken. The way she paused that fraction of a tick too long as she tried not to reveal the truth of the matter to him. Everywhere he looked was another “betrayal”. None more so than his husband who refused to wake up.

“Sneaking” out the infirmary as everyone slept wasn’t easy. Shiro heard the creaking of the wheelchair when he’d climbed out of bed jolting awake mid-snore to ask where he was going, Lance smoothly lying as he stated he was going to pee. His catheter had been removed when they finally let him shower himself, and he wasn’t afraid of blood so his IV cannula was soon removed too. They were someone else’s problem. With the bathroom next to the room’s door, Shiro didn’t move from Curtis’s side as the door let out its usual soft whoosh. Kosmo’s nails clicked on the stone flooring as his fur son stayed by side. Once sure that his footsteps wouldn’t arouse suspicion, he climbed from the wheelchair only for Kosmo to growl at him until he sat down again. His wolf was a dirty rotten traitor, but he also knew how well loved he was and how to use those big puppy dog eyes on him. Rising slower, Kosmo growled again, his mouth finding Lance’s hand in an attempt to stop him

“I know. I know, Kosmo. I have to go. It’s for the sake of the twins”

Kosmo may be the dumbest wolf in the universe, but that was only when he wanted treats and pats. Lance knew he understood everything perfectly. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t react to situations he did. Whining at him, Lance ruffled the fur between his ears

“I know you don’t like it, but it needs to be done... I can’t stay here. It’s... it hurts too much. I keep waiting for your dad to wake up, but he’s left me here and I can’t go with him or to where he is... I’m not strong enough to keep watching over him like this... he won’t wake up... no matter what I do...”

Kosmo whined at him, not happy he’d left the company of the others but Lance had made up his mind. He was falling apart from the inside out. He knew he was breaking in an entirely different way and to stay would only cause troubles.

Creeping through the corridors, Lance headed to Keith’s quarters. He had clothes at the outpost, but he needed his work comm back. Shiro hadn’t let him have that one, so when Krolia had lent him her comms to show him a video of Kolivan sitting up and snoring with Korra asleep in his arms, he’d set up permission for him to take a pod and have wormhole to Erathus opened. He felt guilty betraying her, yet he’d never get off the damn planet if he hadn’t. Opening the door to Keith’s quarters, he jumped visibly as he was caught in the act. Krolia was sitting on Keith’s bed, Korra and Kolivan not there to witness his shame

“I had a funny feeling I’d be seeing you tonight”

Rubbing his stomach to hide how much Krolia had scared him, Lance stared at his baby bump, suddenly fascinated with the fabric of his plain black top

“What are you doing here?”

“I was notified you’d left the infirmary. I’m well aware of the arsenal that Keith keeps under his bed. I cannot allow you see Krystaal in your current state of mind”

Krolia thought he was going to see Krystaal? Dios knew he wanted to. He wanted to shoot the arsehole in the face, but he was smart enough to know that he couldn’t get down there to see him without everyone knowing

“Who said I wanted to see him?”

“Lance...”

Lance shot her a glare. He was tired of all this tiptoeing around

“Krolia”

“You should be resting...”

“I’m done with resting. I’m sick of that room”

“You haven’t...”

“I haven’t what, Krolia? Go on. Tell me what I haven’t done. Tell me what I don’t know. I’m done Krolia”

“Lance, Keith wouldn’t want you...”

“He wouldn’t want what?! He wouldn’t want me talking to Krystaal? He wouldn’t want me talking to the piece of shit who put him in a fucking coma?! He wouldn’t want me being treated like I’m made of glass? What am I supposed to do? He might never wake up! And none of you are treating me...”

“We’re worried about you. You were doing so well. Then you took my comms and scheduled a wormhole to Erathus. What were you going to do? Kill Krystaal? Take him hostage? He’s not talking to anyone”

Lance let out a bitter laugh, twisted with a touch of madness

“Of course this has to be about Krystaal. You couldn’t imagine it being about anyone else, could you? I was doing well? You mean I was keeping my damn mouth fucking shut and letting all of you decide everything for me. Tell him the damn truth, Krolia. Keith won’t wake up. He might never wake up. He’s as good as dead”

Flying off the bed, Krolia stormed over to him, slapping him across the face. Shocked, Lance clutched his cheek, tears welling and rushing to roll down his face

“I’m disgusted how little you believe in him”

“That sounds about right. I’ve always been disgusting. The only difference is that now you all have Keith to explain it away. Poor Lance. Who do we pass him onto now that Keith’s up and gone? We can’t leave him alone. We can’t let him make his own decisions or even let him leave the planet to see his obstetrician. No. He’s a murderer. Obviously he’s planning the murder of Krystaal! Everything has to always be about Krystaal!”

“You’re the one obsessed with Krystaal! Your medical care has been transferred here”

“You decided that! Keith knew that wasn’t what I wanted. He knew! I’m brain damaged, not stupid. I know I can’t see him. You all this in too fucking fragile too handle it! None of you trust me. I’m done with being treated like this!”

“You’re the one...”

“Don’t you dare turn this back on me because you can’t make him talk! Hack his memories. Inject him with a truth serum. Torture him! Do something fucking more than acting like you care when all you care about is the fact I’m carrying your grandchildren! Rest. You all tell me to rest because I’m pregnant. You tell me to rest because of the twins! Don’t get out of bed because it’s bad for them!”

Krolia grabbed his left wrist so hard he felt as if it was bruising immediately

“You think it’s that easy. I have never seen you act so childish”

“You’re hurting me!”

Growling at Krolia, Kosmo raised his hackles. When Krolia shot him a glare, his cowardly fur son sat, though he kept his teeth bared.

“What’s going on here!”

“Let me go!”

Saint Shiro had found him far too fast, Krolia also seemed surprised that a former Black Paladin’s presence

“I’m taking Lance to see Krystaal. He seems to think we’re all relaxing while Keith remains unresponsive”

Tugging at his wrist, he couldn’t get free of Krolia’s hold. Part of him was seriously starting to panic with his plans being so thoroughly unrailed

“Let him go, Krolia”

If anything, Krolia’s hold tightened causing him to whimper

“He’s given up on Keith. He used my comms to approve a wormhole off planet”

Krolia was so angry that Kosmo growled at her again, pawing towards him as he didn’t know what to do with two of his humans fighting

“Lance? You were planning on leaving?”

Shiro sounded hurt. Great. Just fucking great

“He was planning on taking his revenge of Krystaal then leaving. He’s given up on Keith. He said we should tell Krystaal Keith is dead”

“No I wasn’t! I told you it had nothing to do with him! Let me go!”

Shiro caged him in from behind, reaching around him, his fingers started prying Krolia’s hand off his wrist

“Then what were you doing? You never planned on coming back from the bathroom, did you”

As Shiro’s hands start trying to free his wrist, Krolia let go. Lance clutching his wrist to his chest, with Shiro continuing to remain behind him

“Lance? What were you planning on doing?”

“I have an appointment with my obstetrician... I wanted to go to my appointment but none of you cared about what I want. You took it upon yourselves to decide all of this and to tell me nothing. At least Kolivan as honest with me. He told me what was going on... I came to get a few things because I wanted to do this on my own. I can’t keep watching him sleep. He won’t wake up... I can’t wake him up”

“Lance... you could have talked to us”

“You keep telling me to rest. You keep talking at me...”

“Shiro, his medical care has been transferred here, to us”

Shiro knew his issues with previous obstetrician. He also knew how happy they were to have found someone who treated him like a human

“Krolia, let Lance talk. Lance, you have an appointment?”

Lance nodded, Krolia shifted her weight causing him to bump back into Shiro who placed his hands on his shoulders

“She was... my doctor was formulating a plan to help with the bleeding, if I was still bleeding. And with my medication... and stuff. You know what it was like... but she was confident. We liked her. We were supposed to be planning things together. She tells me the truth”

“You should have told us. You can’t go running off when things get to hard”

“Krolia, that’s enough. Lance, you can’t leave on your own. Did you call anyone to meet you there?”

“How could I when none of you let me have any privacy?”

Shiro sighed deeply. Yeah, Lance was going to hold onto his anger over that. They’d all treated him exactly how he hated to be treated, except for Kolivan but he was Krolia’s partner so it’d be weird not to be slightly mad at him... but he wasn’t mad at him the same time. The man was more awkward than Keith had ever been

“You’re not going on your own”

“Then I’ll call Daehra. I can’t do this Shiro, I’m not as strong as you. I can’t sit here and wait for my husband to maybe wake up... He left me... He wanted... I was bleeding and he chose you... I could feel it and he chose you... when I begged him not to go. If I’d been stronger he... he wouldn’t have had to shield me. He wouldn’t be like this! This is my fault... all my fault. Please... please let me go. I need to know what’s happening with his babies”

Shiro forced him into a tight hug. Still scared from Krolia’s outburst and his throbbing wrist. Disappointment had clouded her expression, he felt sick to the stomach from being the cause of it

“Why do you always keep it inside until it comes to this? I can take you. Curtis is awake, watching over...”

“No. Dios... I don’t want a baby sitter! I don’t need a baby sitter. I want to go. I need to go”

“Lance, you can’t. What if you had a seizure? What if no one was there and something went wrong?”

“Then it happens... if Keith isn’t awake, then what does any of this matter? Everything is broken and once again I came second best to you. We can’t compete with you...”

Each word was a spiteful barb aimed at Shiro’s heart. He was lashing out with words he didn’t want to say but had no way of stopping them now that he’d snapped. He didn’t care if he died mid-surgery. He could be a good father to their sons without him. He couldn’t even take care of himself as they’d all proven

“... I want to go back home. Back to my outpost. I want to go back to where I don’t feel like this... I want my brother... I want Marco... I can’t keep walking on eggshells like this. You won’t let me see, Krystaal. You won’t let me get any kind of closure over why he had to hurt Keith like that... or why he betrayed everyone”

Marco would help him figure this out. Veronica worries too much, as did his Mami. Marco worried but he worried in the right ways... not this “lock down and wrap him in cotton wool” quiznak style everyone else was employing. He didn’t know he’d wanted Marco until he’d said it...

“Krolia, you can return to your quarters. Keith and Lance both decided they were going to Erathus for help with Lance’s pregnancy. Lance had a pretty rough time on Altea, Keith was scared yet excited for his next scan. We need to respect his decision on his pregnancy. However, Lance, you’re not going to get any answers from Krystaal. I can take you to see him, but he hasn’t spoken. In return for taking you, Daehra, and Marco will be required to meet you on Erathus, where I will deliver you into their care myself, and you’ll take Kosmo. He knows when you’re stressing and knows when a seizure is coming on. Keith would want him with you. Also, I want you to see Keith before you leave. I want you to be sure of this. He will wake up. Is there anything here you want to bring him?”

With Krolia in their space, angered by him and his actions, their safe space felt tainted. He knew how stressful being a mum could be, he’d seen it in Lisa and his cousins. Plus she had an empire to run and a son in a coma... and it’d been 25 years since the first time around... There were lots of things he wanted to take to Keith. The blade he kept under his pillow. Keith’s own pillows and his favourite blanket. His own clothes. Photos... ultrasound scans... the thought of them felt like they were making a shrine around Keith’s bed... but...

“There’s a box in his bedside drawer. He’d want that...”

Inside the box was Krolia’s memories of Keith and his father. Keith had needed a little time to sort through the box and find the words he wanted, before he’d finally opened up to him. Laying in bed, cuddled up in Keith’s arms with his back to Keith’s warm chest, his husband had pulled the small pile of photographs out from under his pillow. Lance had no idea that Keith had kept them there. Keith didn’t remember everything from his childhood, no ever did from that age and there came a point where you hear a story so many times that you fool yourself into having that memory, but he’d started talking. Those days when his father would burn dinner spectacularly so they’d settle down and eat cereal while watching cartoons. The times his dad would come stinking of smoke, only to pick him up onto his hip and place his helmet on his head. The times Keith tried to help in the kitchen, sitting on the kitchen bench and bossing his father about. They weren’t all good memories. Memories triggered more memories like an earthquake before a tsunami. Keith growing restless and annoyed at his own tears, spluttering apologies while rolling Lance onto his back and shimmying down to talk to his stomach, telling their twins about their grandfather while Lance played with his hair. His husband content to nuzzle and kiss his stomach as he spoke slowly moving from his father to Shiro, then to meeting him. He was grateful for the memories, though confused and unsure at some points as he’d talked about photos and places. Lance let him talk, for what felt like vargas before his husband finally moved back up to lay by his side, one leg thrown over Lance’s as they shared small and soft kisses. Keith finally able to open up about his life, and his fears of leaving their twins behind. Now he had. Lance wasn’t stupid over how much everyone missed Keith’s presence but they also didn’t need him like he needed his husband. Everyday was a struggle to exist without Keith. He relied on him so heavily to simply be there that without him it was like losing half his body and soul.

“Just the box?”

“Yeah... yeah. He’ll understand”

Bit by bit Keith had left him in, let him fix the pain in his heart until he accepted that his father would be proud of him. More than one nightmare of losing his father had followed, Keith tearfully admitting he missed him beyond words. Lance had promised him that wherever he was, he’d always be watching over him. Having been in space, he’d learned anything was possible... so maybe heaven and hell were a possibility too, or some form of it. He’d told him how his father would be watching over him the same way he’d watch over the twins if anything were to happen. Keith had called him an idiot, but he’d take being an idiot any day of the movement if it meant being there for his husband

“Alright. I’ll get the box. Do you need anything from in here?”

“Just the bathroom...”

“Ok. You go clean up while I get the box and call Daehra. Krolia, I think it’s best you leave now. I’ll check in once Lance is on Erathus”

Krolia looked to him, but Lance didn’t have the words to say. He felt scared of her. Scared of her and her disappointment all over again. To him it felt as if their relationship had been sent right back to square one. She loathed weakness. He was nothing but weak in her eyes now...

Led to see Keith before seeing Krystaal, his husband continued to sleep as Lance kissed him goodbye. His tears dripping onto his husband’s cheeks faster than he could wipe them away, whispers of love against Keith’s lips, even if his idiot husband didn’t deserve it. He didn’t want to leave him behind but he needed space to breathe and to figure out how to live without him all over again. He didn’t know his left from his right with how overwhelmed he was. He loved Keith. He loved him more than all the words he knew to describe his feelings. He couldn’t stop crying as he pulled away from him. Shiro would take over the exercises to stop atrophy from forming, Krolia would take over bathing him. Curtis would read to him, he promised that much as Lance drew in on himself. They had this handled. They didn’t need him there. Tears were still rolling down his face as Shiro led him through the palace. Lance wasn’t sure he knew what he was going to say to Krystaal, he’d given up on having the chance to see him with everyone watching his every move. He still wanted to shoot him in the foot... and slowly move his shots upwards... He also wanted to punch him right his self-centred arseholic face. He also wanted to take the Telula and pick that princess up for a nice long talk, or maybe just launch her out the air lock as she hovered in orbit over her damaged planet.

Reaching the entrance to the cells, Shiro confirmed he had Krolia’s permission with the Galra guiding the hallway. He was mammoth in size, even compared to someone like Sendak, a chill ran down Lance’s spine as he tried to draw away from the man and his strange scent. Pregnancy had made scents a hundred times worse for him, yet with Keith by his side he’d worked hard not to be so scared of each individual Galra’s differing scent. After coping Krolia’s anger, his anxiety left him shaken, and had the man gone to shake his hand he probably would have thrown up on him, or fainted. Both seemed as likely as each other. His skin was already starting to itch with the memory of phantom and unwanted touches by Galra just as big as this guard. A whimpered growl escaped when Shiro placed his hand on his shoulder to silently reconfirm that he wanted this. He didn’t. But he did. He wasn’t sure this was going to help anything, and all it was doing was fuelling the anger he was trying not to give into. He was supposed to be off of Daibazaal by now. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he was sure he’d be cutting it fine in regards to his appointment time. Gnashing his teeth together, Lance was forced to breathe through his nose as he gently pushed forward into a hall of unremarkableness. It’s sterile and cold grey walls were surely enough to drive any prisoner to talking if more traditional methods didn’t work. The walk it’s self was short, only a handful of violet bars flickering through Lance’s peripheral visions before Krystaal was before them.

Sitting on the floor of his cell, Krystaal seemed to be in a mediative pose as Lance and Shiro stood before him. Having had a run in with the same bars previous he knew they’d deliver a small shock if he was to get too close. Hesitant as he raised his gaze from Krystaal’s crossed legs, the first thing he noticed was the carved “y” on his arm. The design crude, cut from the man’s fingernails and bloodied to deliver the full effect. With how Krystaal was posed, and the lingering hues of blood in the air, Lance was pretty confident in his guess that Krystaal had “touched up his work of art” once he’d caught their scents in the hall. He’d thought maybe his infatuation with Keith had caused him to go to such lengths but he’d clearly gone off the deep end

“We’ve come to inform you that Keith passed away approximately three vargas ago, having never regained consciousness”

Shiro’s hand tightened on his shoulder, Lance forcibly removing his hand. No one would stoop so low as to play this hand, no one but him. Everyone else was too damn “noble”, yet Lance found nothing noble about Krystaal’s actions and acted without guilt clouding his conscious. He wanted to hurt Krystaal. He wanted to cut him bone deep

“He sustained catastrophic brain trauma from the last explosion to hit the temple. He was placed into a pod, but the pod cannot restore a brain dead patient. He was held in status until it was ensured that both of his children will live, then removed to be prepared for burial. He also told me about your kiss, and how disgusted it made him feel... to the point he threw up at the memory of your lips against his. Unlike you, my husband was brave, honorable and courageous. He came to me straight after the incident to confess what had happened. He considered you a friend. He took pride in your training and skills. He couldn’t understand what provoked you to kiss him, only that it shattered any and all ties between you the moment it happened. He is dead as a direct result of his actions because you were petty. You will never lay your eyes or hands on him again, nor will you be granted permission to attend his funeral. His children will grow up without their father because of you, and we will go on our with our lives, forgetting you existed. We have no hate for you, only pity. Your actions cost the life of one of the hopes of the universe and for that you will stay locked in here. Banishment is too good for you. The princess already admitted her part in the plan, you’ve been shamed across the galaxy for your attempts to ruin Keith’s life and memory. If you think that mark on your arm scares me, it doesn’t. How could an uneducated half breed as yourself understand what that mark ever meant? I hope you enjoy what crippled freedom you think you retain. And I hope the memory of Keith’s kiss sustains you, is branded on your soul like a brand from an iron. Because your kiss sentenced him to death. I’m done here. I only came to tell you that my husband is gone”

Krystaal’s need for superiority overruled his held tongue. Lance knew he loathed him every bit as much as he did Krystaal

“If Keith was dead, you wouldn’t have come down here to see me. You’re not that kind hearted, Lance”

“You’re right. I’m not. I’m a murderer who’s killed a lot more people for less than what you’ve done. Keith, on the hand, was. I’m telling you for his sake”

“Why would I believe anything you say?”

“No one said you needed to believe me, but the fact you broke your silence means your worried that it’s true. You’re not the strong silent schemer you thought you were. There’s no strength in holding your tongue when the object of your insane and petty jealousy is no longer around. I’m leaving Keith’s here with his family, and don’t see myself returning. My children and I, my family, will be returning to live in the place he wanted to settle down in. I don’t care what you think, I’m done with you. We’re all done with you”

The human mind was amazing when it wanted to be. The coldness Lance projected stilled his racing heart and dries his tears. Everything he’d felt up until that point seemed to vanish away as his face settled on a rather neutral expression. None of this meant anything particularly. He felt no stab of pain in his heart as he described Keith as gone... just a kind of emptiness where that pain should be. Turning, he started to walk away from the cell

“Don’t you walk out on me! You didn’t deserve him! You ruined him! I’m glad he’s dead! Being hated by him to the very depths of his soul means I was never far from his mind in his last thoughts. You’re nothing but a murderer and a whore. A piece of shit stuck to the bottom of his boot! He told me he didn’t even wish for you children! He didn’t wish to be entwined that way with you. He very rarely spoke of you until you returned to ruin him. You might believe he loved you, but if he hated me as you say, then I was in his thoughts as he died and that ultimately means I meant more to than you. You’re an abomination of nature. It’s laughable that you were ever a Paladin”

“You know, for a guy who you say you hate, you seemed to love talking about me. You seemed to really love stalking me. Slandering me across the intergalactic media. Yet, you still mean nothing to me. Klearo means more to me than you. So maybe that means you’re simply so insignificant that I’m going to forget you the moment I walk out the door. You went after “Daibazaal’s Shining Prince”. You have no friends left in the universe, no, they already confessed when they learned of Keith’s condition”

“Keith should have been with his own kind!”

Continuing to walk, each step grew a little easier as the weight on his shoulders lessened. He wouldn’t be surprised if Shiro called to tell him Krystaal had taken his own life sometime over the next few quintants. Keith would grieve, because his husband was a caring idiot, but Lance... he held no sympathy for him.

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raging-violets · 5 years ago

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Suite Life: Let Me Love You // Zack x Riley

A/N: Set just after my fics Save Me From Myself, and Help Me Save Me. Inspired by the book Letting Anna Go. The gif doesn’t really have to do with anything, but it was the closest to what I was looking for.

Warning: Mentions/Implications of depression, anorexia, abuse, bipolar disorder.

@pinacoladaranger

Zack grinned and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist when he saw her red golf ball bounce off the back of the barrier on the hole and spin away, thus making her lose the mini golf game.

And the bet.

Oh, that was the best part.

Their competitive natures always got the better of them when playing a game, they both absolutely hated to lose. (There had many times where their friends and siblings refused to let them play certain games because of how competitive they got, not that her family as a whole weren't competitive). But the worst came when they decided to put a bet on something, second to one of them winning and gloating in the face of the one who lost.

Thankfully, this time around, the bet was as simple as the loser buying dinner.

"Good job, babe," Zack said while Riley sighed heavily, placing a hand on her hip. He couldn't help the teasing edge to his voice. Unable to keep himself from letting his competitive edge take over. The same competitiveness that made her pout, despite folding her arms to lay on top of his, gently rocking along with his swaying. "But a deal's a deal, and you owe me some food."

"Great, I'll lose all the money I made this week," Riley pretended to groan. She tipped her head back, resting it on his shoulder; noticeable. "Waiting all those tables for nothing."

"Most of that money's from me, anyway." Zack grabbed their golf clubs in one hand, grasped her hand and led her from the hole. "I have to do something while I waited for you to get off." He giggled to himself when Riley punched him on the arm, clearly getting his not-so-subtle innuendo.

"Hitting on my co-workers and my sister shouldn't be one of those things."

"Technically, they're two things. I can flirt with your co-workers more than I can flirt with Rhu. Only cause Cody would kill me." Zack paused, giving their playing items before then turned, throwing his arm around Riley's shoulders to steer her toward the snack bar of the outdoor game center.

Riley tilted her head back and looked up at Zack with squinted eyes. "You only wouldn't flirt with my sister because of Cody?"

Zack pressed his lips together. "Okay, fine, I admit it. I never wanted to say it before, but you leave me no choice." He took in a deep breath and said, "When we first met, I couldn't tell you two apart." He placed a hand on his chest, noticing the rib bones he could feel just above his ab muscles. "Terrible, I know—"

"You're a twin!" Riley cried. "How can you not tell us apart when you're a bloody twin yourself!"

Zack shrugged. "All I saw were pretty girls I wanted to make out with."

"I figured that out when you used your line on me, yeah?" Riley rolled her eyes. "Of which you clearly got from your dad, mate. How many eleven-year-old boys know anything about being the man of someone's dreams."

"It's a good line." Zack removed his arm and grabbed her shoulders, steering her to the line of the concession stand.

"Yeah, and how many long-term relationships has your dad been in?"

"Just the one," Zack replied. He grinned. "And they produced some very attractive children."

"Yeah, yeah…" Riley reached up and grabbed Zack's chin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw that equally made him grin, and made butterflies erupt in his stomach. She let go him and he quickly reached up to press his jaw, hand moving almost on autopilot, rubbing the skin to determine what she felt.

Did she feel a strong jaw bone or a fleshy fat pocket?

He dropped his hand, looking over the board as they inched closer in line.

"What do you want?" Riley took her wallet out of her pocket, dipping her head to look inside.

Missed Zack quickly and quietly scanning the menu, once, twice, three times, twisting his lower lip to the side as the seconds passed. So much to choose from, too many options. It all looked great but… Zack sighed heavily. It was the sort of thing he was starting to hate. More so in the last few weeks than any other time. It was practically torture waiting in the restaurant for her to finish, just to even have five minutes for her to stop by his table to give him a free drink or a free piece of cheesecake. Too many overwhelming choices, sights, sounds, smells.

All for a few minutes of elation.

And that was only when he wasn't at his own job; working the Tipton daycare was fun but tiring. Made him fall back into bad habits to keep his strength up simply to run around with the kids so long. It wasn't until he was utterly alone and things died down that they got worse. There was a reason he liked to be around people so much.

"Zack."

"What?" He blinked to attention.

Riley tipped her head to the board, slightly impatient. "What do you want?" she repeated.

Zack made a decision. "I want the Belly Buster."

"Fine."

He watched as she went up to the counter and asked for the order. His stomach gnawed at him as quickly as he gnawed at his lower lip. He twisted his fingers together. Barely mumbled when he said, "Actually…no, I want the fried chicken salad."

Riley paused. She lifted her head, staring straight ahead. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at Zack out the corner of her eye. Zack looked back at his girlfriend, watching her face, noticing that while her expression hadn't changed, something around them did. The fun atmosphere they'd just had was gone; something heavy rained over them. Nevertheless, she turned back to the counter and changed the order, quickly exchanging the money needed to pay for it.

Then they walked to a table in the corner to wait.

She spoke the second they sat down, immediately raising all of Zac's red flags. He got the same feeling in the pit of his stomach when his mother was angry at him for something. Especially when he wasn't quite sure what it was. (Mostly as there was a plethora of things he could've done to incur someone's wrath, there were so many pranks he'd played against Moseby became so much that he couldn't always remember what was what).

"You're doing it again aren't you?" She asked, voice clipped.

Zack swallowed hard. Hadn't expected to be hit with such a direct question. Who was he kidding, though? Except for her feelings toward him, Riley had always been direct with everything that surrounded them. When he was being a jerk, when he needed to work harder on his studies, when he needed to concentrate…all the things that made it easier for him to better himself.

When he didn't take it too far.

Zack looked at her, eyes wide with innocence. Riley tilted her head, looking back at him, used to the look. He realized that a little too late. "What?" He brought his hands up, resting his elbows on the table. The sleeves of his sweatshirt covered most of his hands, he started to pick at his fingernails. Riley stared back at him. "No." She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm just..."

He trailed off.

Just what?

She asked him a question, it'd be worse if he lied. Lying to his mother when caught was one thing; she'd ground him, maybe take away some privileges. Maybe, give him another lecture on how disappointed she was. That was his mom, hearing it from his girlfriend was even worse. Because she could break up with him, his mom couldn't do that.

"Look," he said under his breath. "I just want to play well."

Riley shook her head, eyebrows coming together. "That's what happened for basketball. You wanted to play well, then you had a bloody heart attack."

"I know," Zack replied. And he did know. And remembered. Remembered how it felt that his heart was squeezing out of his chest. How he couldn't bring in a breath to steady everything. How, for a minute, he was in the gym and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital with worried faces around him and his arm strapped to the rails of his bed. "Look. This is different. I'm being more careful. I'm keeping track of everything with an app and—"

"I'm not an idiot, Zack, don't bloody treat me like one." She wasn't angry. Not yet. Her face hadn't started taking on the tell-tale pink hue, but her eyes were on fire. Flashing as her eyebrows pierced together. "I've known you since, what? We were eleven? I know there's a difference between the way you eat and the way you think. I know when you eat emotionally, when you're enjoying food for the sake of enjoying it."

Zack looked down at his shoes. Wondered how to make things better. If the tables were reversed, if she were having a mental breakdown, if she were struggling with her own demons, he'd just give her a hug, tell her how much he cared, that everything would be okay. He could still try and tell her that.

But he had a feeling, a deep feeling, it wouldn't work.

Riley shook her head, slapped the sides of her palms on the table top. "I just want you to be careful."

"I am being careful," he insisted.

"I don't want to lose you."

"You won't!" He tried something else. "I'm better. I've been better! For a year now!" She nodded but didn't respond. The doubt was palpable. Zack sighed heavily. He leaned back, watching as their food was brought to their table. The salad he'd asked for and the wrap she'd bought. His upper lip curled at the pool of dressing that sat atop of it. He wasn't very hungry anymore.

Zack lifted his fork and poked at the salad, taking a few bites of the dry pieces of lettuce with chunks of chicken. Studiously stayed away from the pieces touching the dressing. Yet he ignored his trembling lips and queasy stomach, ignored the calculations in his head of what he'd have to do to work it off and keep eating. Ignored it all to try and salvage a good night, and his relationship.

Finally, Riley leaned back and folded her arms. "Are you throwing all of that away?

"I'm full," he replied lightly.

"Of what? You barely fucking touched it."

Zack brought his hands up to run through his hair, stopped when he reached the edge of his beanie. Knew that if he pulled it off and went through the subconscious movement, he stopped months before, that she'd notice everything he worked to hide. Instead, he scrubbed his face with his fingers, annoyed. "Would you stop?" He finally asked. "None of this is your business."

"What do I have to do?"

"This isn't about you."

"Yes, it is!" Her eyes flashed, voice raised to a shout. Eyes turned their way, curious, then turned back. Zack pushed himself away from the table, untangling his legs from the low bench and stalked toward the parking lot. Needed to get away. Anywhere, away from all the attention. From the disgusted looks, from the judgmental stares, wondering what it was he'd done to have her yell at him like that Wasn't that how it always went? That the guy was to blame? In his experience, yeah. "You made it about me."

Zack flung his arms into the air, stopping at the edge of the parking lot. Turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest. To hide himself. To protect himself. "How?" He demanded. "How is this about you?" He exploded, unable to keep it all in. "How is the dieting, the picking on my weight, the constant comments about what I eat, how I eat, and when I do it about you? How is the comparisons to my brother, being unable to keep up with school, being put on a wait list, about you? How does going to NYU when no one thought I was going anywhere but jail about you?"

Riley lifted her hand, as if she were about to slap him. Stopped, thought better of it, then jabbed him in the chest with her fingertip. She stepped toward him, angled her head so that he could look him in the eye. "By being you," she practically hissed. "By being so great. By being funny and smart—" Zack couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips. "You're smart, Zack. You know more about history and war tactics than anyone I know. You even got Capture the Flag banned because we were all taking it so seriously!" She poked him in the center of the chest. "And you have a heart, one I fell in love with ages ago. Probably before I knew I had. I fell in love with you." She removed her hand from his chest and gestured toward herself. "So this is about me, now. I love you and I want you to know that, not up in your head. I want you to know it, here!" She pointed to her own heart. "This is my business, dammit. You're my business."

Zack rolled his eyes, turned away. Felt a pain in his chest. Not pained by her confession, no, he was elated at that, his heart wouldn't stop thrumming in excitement of it. But pain due to things out of his control. Her emotions were out of his control, his own were out of control. He didn't know which way to turn; his heart was telling him to believe everything she was saying and yet… Everything she was saying was drowned out by a voice that whispered cruelly: She doesn't really mean it, she'd just being nice. She's waiting for someone else.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he said, instead.

"But you are! When you hurt someone I love, you're hurting me. Don't you get it?"

Zack wanted to hug her, to tell her he would try harder, but couldn't bring himself to do so. He stepped back and held out his arms, as if showing her himself for the first time. Wanted her to get a good look at what she was getting herself into, what she'd allowed herself to get into. "How can you love me like this?"

"Bloody hell!" Riley shook her head. "I've always loved you. Doesn't that count for anything?" He dropped his arms and didn't respond. Couldn't. Part of him wanted to say, "It used to," but couldn't get the words out. Didn't have to, the stunned expression on her face said enough. "Go fuck yourself, Zack!" She turned away.

Zack felt a surge of anger, well up inside him, seeing her back presented to him. "You used me," he accused. She immediately whirled around, glaring at him. "You knew how I felt about you from the beginning and you used my feelings."

"By being your friend?" She spat back.

Zack shook his head. "You led me on, I kept trying for you…"

"So you're saying this is my fault?" Her voice turned quiet, broken. Caught by the tears that threatened to come.

In that moment, Zack wondered if there was such a thing as soulmates. Wondered if there was one person destined for everyone on Earth with how he felt his own tears welling up. With how broken he felt, scared, empty. With how sorry he felt that in many ways it had nothing to do with her but in every way it did. How she encouraged him to be the best he could be, to change his habits, but how she was also who he tried to impress. How she understood hos inadequate he felt compared to his brother and made him feel what it was like to have positive attention.

Knew she understood that need, the want to be liked, due to her own struggles with the abuse of her foster father.

How they dealt with the same issue in two very different ways.

Wondered if she realized how the voices were slowly dwindling away.

He leveled his gaze on her, saw her shake her head, an air of acceptance coming over her. Saw her face clear from the anger she felt only seconds before, replaced by hurt, but understanding. Compassion. She stepped forward, placing her hands on his cheeks, tipped his head down so his forehead rested against hers. Zack closed his eyes, reaching up to grasp her wrists, gently stroked the skin with his thumbs.

"I'm not giving up on you," she murmured. "Don't you dare give up on me."

#ocappreciation #ziley #zack martin #oc: riley jackson #zack x riley #suite life #suite life series #the suite life of zack and cody #the suite life on deck #au #fic: save me from myself #fic: help me save me #tw: anorexia #tw: depression #tw: bipolar disorder #tw: abuse #prompt #by: riley #letting ana go

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xxscarletxrosexx · 5 years ago

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Miraculous: The Lost Memoirs- Ch. 2 When Tomorrow Comes

Finally updated after 4 years.

Fanfic | Deviantart

A/N:

Yes, I'm alive! It has been 4 ridiculous years since I last updated this story. First and foremost, I apologize for being gone for so long. I truly have to thank Miraculous Ladybug Season 3 for being the catalyst to bring back my love for writing again. I have been looking through a number of Instagram feeds regarding Miraculous Ladybug, and suddenly it just came back. I HAD to write, and I'm here. But it's not just Miraculous Ladybug… I have you to thank. I have not been able to read the sweet comments all of you guys have left me when I have been away via Tumblr, Fanfic, and DeviantArt. Let's just say that I had some growing up to do. And I found the time and the passion to come back. So thank you, everyone.

On another note, when I first wrote this story, I remember that this was back in season 1 when the valentine's episode had just recently come out. Yes, this story is roughly as old as that episode. I had limited information on characterization and interaction, limited to resources on how to write this story, but I had so much freedom to write the story back then. With the ongoing season 3 taking place, I've decided to do my best and try to capture as much canon scenes as possible and adapt into this story, that being said, the outline that I left myself will be scrapped (and may be portrayed as an AU one-shot to this story if anyone is interested).

That being said, thank you to everyone who has followed me and this story, and favorited me and this story. I will be working hard to complete this story. My drive for writing this is very strong. I will talk to you soon! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart to the people who have been reading this from the beginning to the new readers who came to read in between the year of my absence. Thank you so, so, so much<3

I'll write to you guys very soon :)

There are some Easter Eggs that you fans will notice. I was inspired by a post on Instagram. If you don't notice it, feel free to read below for the answers ;)

DeviantArt: XxScarletxRosexX Tumblr: XxScarletxRosexX Instagram: XxScarlyliciousxX

Summary:

It is far from coincidences that these miraculous jewels ended in Marinette's and Adrien's possession. Their kwamis claim that they have been specifically chosen as the sole protectors against evil. But when an akuma returns a forgotten past, it unravels an unforeseen destiny of their Miraculous predecessors' lives. Their decisions, from this moment forward, could possibly alter the true meaning of their existences and their destinies.

When tomorrow comes… I'll be on my own… feeling frightened of the things that I don't know… When tomorrow comes… Tomorrow comes… Tomorrow… Comes…

~~~~~~~

I'll be all alone.

How long had she been sleeping? she wondered.

She wasn't sure how many days have passed nor if her eyes had ever closed. All she remembered was darkness.

Her body was a heavy lead, and to lift as much as a finger sapped all her energy. Her father had been checking up on her every hour or so, leaving her meals in silver dome trays beside the trap door for her to consume, but Marinette would never have the energy to eat, nor make an effort for that matter. Instead, she would force her arms to move her hands and grip onto the sheets of her bed to reposition and drag her to the edge of her bed to take a glimpse at the silver tray before plopping her head against her crumpled sheets in defeat.

During these moments, Tikki's voice would chastise her to take care of herself and not to disrespect her father's efforts. Hearing her voice was enough for Marinette to muster what's left of her strength and stand up from her bed, followed by dragging her feet across the floor and trudging down her stairs. She would drag her legs as if she were dragging a heavy cart until she finally stood in front of the silver tray, and plopped herself on the ground with a loud thud. She would open the tray and eat her luke-warm meal in silence. But today, she felt like staying in bed for a while longer.

The depressed child had not seen her father for days, but she acknowledged his presence with the creaking of the trap door. Guilt had nestled a place at the pit of her stomach, throbbing reminders of the many delicious meals she had wasted of her father's skills; of how much trouble she was causing her father and friends; and most of all, of failing her duties as Ladybug and protecting Tikki. The sensation was an alarm clock with a message repeating like a broken record in her mind, but it had played so many times that she had grown numb to it.

There was no point.

The sound of her creaking trap door meets her ears like a crack of thunder, and Marinette was well aware that she had this chance to talk to her father. All she needed to do was lift her head and call out, "Dad!" But, she couldn't.

She heard him sigh. It was thick with concern but tapered off with an undeniable sense of disappointment, and the feeling had brought tears to her eyes again. She couldn't bring herself to speak with him.

Marinette knew her father so well that she knew exactly what Thomas Dupain was expressing simply by the way he breathed. When he had sighed, she knew his brows would knit together and form several creases across his forehead, as he hung his head forward slightly. She knew that his eyes would trail to the loft where she resided, and he would debate behind sealed lips whether to talk to her or not. Marinette recognized the gulp of air that passed through his lips as he decided to say something but snapped shut at the last second. He felt defeated.

Neither could find their voices for they were lost in a sea of silent cries, both shouldering conflicts that the other could not help resolve with words. It was ironic because, at times of need, even a stranger would jump to help, but they were family. And they couldn't do anything for one another.

With another sigh, she heard the door close, followed by the heavy steps trudging down the stairs, with each weighing heavier from the last on her heart.

Marinette had lifted her head then. She peered into the darkness and made out a silhouette of her untouched dinner, still shrouded by a silver dome, and probably cold and unappetizing.

When she turned away from the meal, Tikki's voice would chime in her mind, chastising her for her laziness. No matter how many times her mind had played tricks on her, Marinette would fall for it. Her body would fall rigid and jolt as if electricity had coursed through her body. Whereas the whites of her eyes, now puffy and sensitive, and slathered with a blistering shade of crimson, would widen and peer around her room in search of her ruby kwami. And from time and time again, the raven-haired girl would be greeted back with disappointment and emptiness. Her kwami's name would roll out of her lips like a silent prayer, wishing that she would return to her and dissolve this never-ending nightmare, as scorching tears spilled down her ashen face.

Marinette's slender fingers had trailed up her cheeks and gently caressed the damp, swollen lumps, as if preventing any further overflow leakage like a boy had plugged his finger to prevent a leak in a dam; and winced internally as the stinging sensation throbbed beneath her fingertips from the numerous times she had wiped them with her hands and the fabric of her cotton shirt. Although the last time she had checked her reflection was days ago, Marinette laughed bitterly as she thought of how hideous her image must be at her current state. Still, she made no effort to fix herself. Instead, she forced her body to roll to her side and stared at the glass trapdoor.

A veil of murky ivory had adorned her disarray hair and lifeless eyes to a slant across her torso. Her eyes, the color of over-washed jeans, stared idly at the dark cumulus clouds as they reeled past her empty eyes like a film played over a vintage projector. It was not long before nostalgia had tugged at her heartstrings and brainwashed her thoughts with such vivid memories that she had almost completely mistaken it for reality. It happened at an instant; a silhouette figure had flitted across her vision, gliding across the sky like a graceful gazelle, but as soon as her eyes blinked, it had vanished.

Marinette knew that guilt and nostalgia was sending her mind off to an astral projection journey, because she had recalled the numbing sensation of the frigid night's kiss against her lips and cheeks, and how sweet it had tasted on her tongue to feel so light and free from her responsibilities and expectations in her hectic life. She also recalled how brightly lit the stars had twinkled as she sailed beneath them. Then she was submerged in the shadows once again under the arch. She felt Chat Noir's warmth post-resuscitation spread across her body, and she wondered to herself if that warmth could save her right now as she drifted from consciousness once again.

~~~~~~~

Alya, Adrien, and Nino decided to hang at the park right across from Marinette's house, giving Nino and Adrien an hour to help Alya calm down her nerves despite her insistence to go immediately. Reluctantly, Alya sighs and caves to the boys' suggestion. Alya plops herself on one of the park benches with Nino sitting right beside her and Adrien facing both of them.

"Really, I'm going to be fine guys. I just want to see Marinette…" her voice fades towards the end. Nino takes her hand in his and weaves his fingers through hers.

"It's alright, babe. We both know how much this is stressing you out. We don't even know what's going on in Marinette's life right now. It's pretty scary that she practically erased herself from existence."

Alya squeezes his hand appreciatively, "Yeah… let's just hope she didn't just disappear. I hope an akuma didn't get to her."

"Doubt it," Adrien states confidently. He had been sneaking out of his room during his piano practices and when everyone had returned to bed. Ladybug's absence had been bothered him endlessly. His brain had run through a marathon of worse case scenarios regarding capture from an akuma or being akumatized, but none had been in his radar throughout his patrol. Paris was finally peaceful… too peaceful that it had left Adrien feeling on the edge. He reaffirmed his thoughts with the conversation he had eavesdropped with Miss Bustier and Alya, "Mr. Dupain-Cheng would have noticed if his daughter was akumatized, and reported if it were the case. But he hasn't said anything. So that means Marinette is still at home."

Nino nods to his friend with agreement and gratitude before meeting Alya's troubled eyes, "Adrien's right, babe. You've seen Mr. Dupain ever since Marinette has been absent. If she were akumatized, you would definitely be the first to know. After all, you are Paris's greatest journalist on Ladybug and akumas."

Alya smiled weakly. She looked at her boyfriend then to Adrien, "Thank you, guys. I'm feeling a bit better about this."

"It's no problem," Adrien smiled.

"Yeah, we got you."

The trio walked in silence for a good two minutes before Alya broke the silence. "I want to see her… but I'm afraid she'll push me away again. This is really hard to go through."

Nino squeezed her hand, "We can try to ask Mr. Dupain about what's happening on her end if Marinette isn't ready to talk. We can't rush a person who is going through something, after all."

"She's your best friend, after all, Alya. Trust that Marinette will come to you as soon as she recovers," the blond model added.

"You're right, guys. I'm sorry for just rambling all of these stupid nonsenses," the auburn-haired woman said sheepishly.

"If Nino was in this situation, I probably would have reacted the same way," Adrien chirped.

"Dude…" the brown-skinned boy looked at his best friend with an awe-struck expression. Unsure of how to respond to Adrien's heartfelt comment, Nino lifts his free hand to bump fist with Adrien. "I'd definitely react the same for you too, dude."

Alysa clears her throat and feigns annoyance, "I appreciate you guys cheering me up, but save the bromance when I'm not here."

The two boys share eye contact and laugh with Alya joining in the humor.

"Sorry babe, you know how Adrien and I are. We're pretty tight."

"Yeah, yeah," Alya rolls her eyes.

"Why don't we start by a florist and get her a bouquet while we're at it?" Adrien suggests thoughtfully.

Alya's eyes sparkle. This was the first time Adrien had ever initiated getting flowers for Marinette-or maybe before any girl. Marinette will be so ecstatic when she hears about this, Alya thought to herself whilst picturing her best friend enter her rambling, fangirl episode followed by fainting. She giggles to herself.

"What is it?" the blond model asked curiously.

"Oh nothing!" Alya chirped, "I think it's a great idea! In fact, I know exactly what she likes!"

~~~~~~~

Alya, Nino, and Adrien stood in front of Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. Adrien glanced over at Alya then back to the bouquet of red roses, white lilies, and white daisies. Hesitantly he asks, "Alya, you sure you don't want to be the one to give this to Marinette? You're closer to her after all."

Alya shared a mutual grin with her boyfriend before answering, "Of course it's fine! I know this will make her so happy Adrien, especially if it's coming from you!"

"I don't know…" the blond hair teenager tapered off hesitantly.

"Trust me, dude," Nino reassured, he smiled to his giggling girlfriend before continuing, "Marinette will definitely appreciate it."

"Really?" He looks back at the bouquet thoughtfully, a small grin etching on his face, "I hope she'll like it." Adrien turns to the auburn-haired teenager. "Shall we go in?"

"Yeah." Alya reaches for the door and was immediately greeted by a soprano jingle. To their surprise, the shop was empty. "Huh… that's strange. No one is here."

"Is it really okay to leave the shop unattended?" Nino asked aloud.

Adrien shrugged.

"Nope! I'm here!" The trio turned their attention to hurried stomps coming from the staircase followed by Mr. Dupain. "Hi guys, thanks for coming in today." He looked exhausted upon closer inspection. There were noticeable dark circles and creases forming under his puffy eyes. Perhaps the stress of their situation must be taking a toll on Mr. Dupain too. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way just to drop off her homework."

"Don't worry about it," Alya reassured him.

"We wanted to come here," Nino finished her sentence.

Mr. Dupain appeared perplexed and embarrassed as he scratched the nape of his neck.

"Marinette's our friend after all. She's important to us," Adrien added.

To his left, Alya and Nino exchanged a warm smile. "I wish I recorded this on my phone to show to Marinette," Alya whispered to Nino. "She would totally flip."

"Don't worry, I got you," Nino winked. He pulled out his phone to show that he was recording their conversation before hitting the stop button.

"Keep recording Nino! This is gold!"

"Alright, babe," he whispered back.

"I'll make it up to you afterward," Alya whispered and pecked the hand that was still holding on to hers.

"I'm expecting that," he replied suggestively.

"I see you have flowers for Marinette, Adrien?" Mr. Dupain continued. "That's very thoughtful of you to get her one."

"Yes, I mean we all-"

"Yes, it was a wonderful idea, Adrien!" Alya quickly cut off. "He came up with the idea after all!"

"Marinette sure is lucky to have you guys as her friends," Mr. Dupain praised then his expressions dropped as he continued, "But I'm afraid that Marinette may not be able to greet you guys again. I feel quite troubled to share this news with you guys after the trouble you guys have gone through," he glances at his watch, "especially leaving school at this time."

"It's okay, Mr. Dupain. We wanted to try regardless," the caramel skin woman tried her best to sound positive, but her expression betrayed her with defeat.

Nino took quick notice and squeezed her hand and continued, "With all due respect, Mr. Dupain, do you mind if we can talk to you about this? Everyone in class is really worried about her, and we don't know much of the details."

Mr. Dupain was silent as he crossed an arm and planted his elbow on his hand to support the other fist against his chin. After a minute, he nodded thoughtfully and affirmingly. "You guys can go ahead upstairs. I'll lock up the shop and we can talk this over some snacks. I'm guessing you guys haven't had anything since leaving school."

"You always know the right words, Mr. Dupain," Nino said happily, "Your pastries are the best in town!"

Mr. Dupain laughed, "Thanks, kid." Then directed his attention to Alya as he walked to the glass the door, "Lead the way. I'll be with you in a moment."

"Yes, sir!" Alya chirped with an improved mood, "Let's go, guys!" The auburn-haired teenager climbed up the stairs and made her way to the Dupain-Cheng's apartment with Nino and Adrien following suit. Once she opened the door, to their surprise, the living room looked the same: clean, organized-perhaps Mr. Dupain had been completing some light cleaning to keep himself busy. The only thing that was out of place, based on Alya's memory, is the family picture sitting on the kitchen counter. With some deductive reasoning, Alysa assumed that he had been looking at the frame during the last three days. She picks up the picture to observe the Dupain-Cheng family. Thomas Dupain stood in the back, Marinette on the left, and Sabine Cheng on the right. "They looked so happy in this picture."

Adrien approaches Alya and took note of the family picture that he had once observed when he was Cat Noir. He reminisced the silly memory when Marinette and he had been caught in a huge misunderstanding with Mr. Dupain and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng regarding their "feelings" for one another. "Yeah, it's so weird…" he had unconsciously admitted aloud, "It's really shocking to see Marinette and her parents so unhappy and stressed. I don't think there's ever been a time where I saw them like this… It's completely out of character for them." Adrien turns his attention to the stairs leading up to the Marinette's room and stares at her wooden hatch door pensively.

Alya and Nino follow his gaze and sigh simultaneously. "Come on," Alya initiated, "let's help Mr. Dupain and at least set up the plates." The others nodded and assisted Alya in collecting plates and the silverware.

After the trio had finished setting up, Mr. Dupain arrives with a variety of pastries hidden inside a silver tray. "You kids are just a lovely bunch. But you really didn't have to help set up. You're the guests after all."

"It's alright, Mr. Dupain. We want to help as much as we can. We've intruded after all," Alya replied.

"I appreciate it very much," the baker responded heartfeltly. He made his way to the kitchen counter and placed the silver tray on the table. He lifts the lid to reveal croissants, fresh marble bread, bon-bons, chocolate and caramel macaroons, various flavored macarons, and creampuffs. "Dig in, everyone!" The expressions on Marinette's friends' faces had washed over Thomas Dupain with a wave of nostalgia as the trio reached for their favorite pastry. Adrien's glowing eyes reminded him of his sweet daughter when she had received his delicious pastry on sad days. Nino and Alya, on the other hand, reminded him of himself and Sabine. Nino and Alya had simultaneously picked a pastry and had set it on their partner's plate rather than themselves. Both look surprised as they noticed their partner placing their food on their plate, followed by a sheepish smile and giggle. He missed his wife. He missed his daughter. He missed his family.

Adrien noticed the expression on Mr. Dupain's smile drooped, and his forehead knitted to form creases. Before he could eat his food, he had set it back down. This gesture had snapped the pastry chef back to the present.

"Is there something wrong, Adrien?" the giant man asked startled with concerned.

"No, sir," Adrien answered, "Sorry if this sounds nosy of me, but I couldn't but notice you looking stress."

Alya and Nino had stopped snacking their own food immediately and turned towards Mr. Dupain.

"Ah," Mr. Dupain answered. He sighed, defeated before continuing, "I just couldn't help but notice how nostalgic this feels. It has been three days since the last time Marinette, Sabine, and I had a happy moment like this. I know it hasn't been long since Sabine's departure, but three days feels like an eternity for me."

"No," Adrien disagreed, "three days is a long time. I totally get it."

"So it's been like this for three days?" Alya inquired.

"Well, Sabine and I had an argument before her departure to visit relatives back in China. Despite how many times Sabine and I argue, she has always been the one to keep a level-head, but I think I really upset her with what I said. Maybe Marinette overheard and was upset by it too," Mr. Dupain recounted.

"Was it that bad, Mr. Dupain?" Nino asked.

"Well, it's a marital tiff, I would say. But I don't think Marinette would react this badly to it. Marinette usually cheers me up when my wife and I have a disagreement. Honestly, she got her nature from her mother. She's very mature for her age."

Alya nodded approvingly, "Definitely."

"She was okay on the day Sabine left… well until in the evening."

"Evening?" Alya's ears perked, she had entered detective mode, "What do you mean?"

"I couldn't sleep that evening since Sabine had left. I was worried, but I also missed her. So, long story short, I felt the need to move about the house. Then Marinette came home. I don't remember seeing her leave the house after she got home from school. Perhaps," Thomas Dupain's forehead furrowed and he began to scratch his head in his recollection, "she left the house when it was rush hour. I probably missed her on her way out. Because there's no way she can get out from her balcony. It's too high and too dangerous. She could've hurt herself if she attempted to leave."

"That's right," Nino chimed in. He recalled the height of Marinette's home when they had paused outside of the bakery. "That would be impossible."

"The strangest part of all," Mr. Dupain continued. The trio was hooked to his story and had all subconsciously leaned towards him, forgetting the tasty treats in front of them. "She came home drenched. Paris was not raining that evening. When I asked her about what happened, she just looked at me and smiled. It was one of those forced smiles. She told me that she was having a bad day and needed time for herself." He gestured to her room with his gaze, "She's been in there ever since." With a sigh, he folds his arms across his chest and turns his attention back to the three students, "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she fell into the pool, but I would understand that that would be a mortifying experience."

"Have you ever once tried to go in there and talk to her?" Adrien asked.

"I have a couple of times, but she won't respond. When she responds to me… it's like she's lifeless. She won't talk about what happened. All I can do is just leave food at the foot of her door. The only thing I'm grateful about is that she actually eats, although it's not much."

Alya hangs her head in frustration. Her hands glide under glasses to smother her face as if it were a windshield dragging dirt downwards. Nino slides his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. Adrien joins the consolidation by patting her back softly. "I just don't get it," she mutters, "this is really all new to me too, Mr. Dupain."

"Totally," Nino agrees softly, "we've never seen Marinette act like this before."

Suddenly they heard a loud thud upstairs and all four members sprang to their feet. Mr. Dupain was the first to dash up to the stairs and knocked on the hatch door. Alya, Nino, and Adrien rushed behind him. "Marinette! Are you okay up there?"

No response.

"Marinette!"

"Yeah…" a weak voice croaked back. Her voice was soft, a bit more audible than a whisper, but it was the kind of soft voice you would hear your friend whisper in your ear. She was near them as if she was face-planted to the hatch. The only thing that divided them now was the wooden hatch. "You okay, honey? Do you want me to get the food?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll bring it down. I can do that at the very least."

"Okay, well you have guests over, honey."

No response.

"Marinette?"

"I don't look decent to come down."

Alya stepped closer to the hatchet and replied, feeling relieved at last, "Then dress up a bit, Marinette! We know you're not feeling so well, so don't push yourself too hard. Do you need my help?"

"We?" she asked in her low voice.

"Your dad, Nino, Adrien, and I."

"Adrien…?" she whispered softly. Fortunately only Mr. Dupain and Alya were the only two who heard her whisper the model's name.

"Would you mind letting me in?" Alya requested.

"No, it's fine, Alya. I'll go down. Just give me ten," Marinette's voice grew a little stronger.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, let me just clean myself up a bit."

"Okay, we'll be out here," Alya concluded. Marinette responded with her feet shuffling away from the hatch.

~~~~~~~

Marinette's room was an absolute chaos. Papers were tossed aside, her mirror in disarray and a red and blackboard marker sat uncapped on her dresser. A child's drawing of a red kwami floated on the top left of her vanity mirror, another one was floating on her computer's black screen, and another one was on her mini wash station mirror. Each wore a smile. In her head, she heard Tikki's voice chastising her.

You should make yourself more presentable Marinette! You have guests over! They must've been worried sick about you!

She stared at her poorly drawn kwami on her vanity mirror and responded, "I'm not feeling well."

Doesn't justify you to be rude, Marinette!

"Let me be…"

The poorly-drawn kwami stared back at her in silence with a wide smile.

Marinette sighed, "You were right, Tikki…" Marinette looked at the left corner of where her floating red kwami usually levitated. A tear escaped her abused, puffy eyes, "You were right, all along… I'm so sorry."

~~~~~~~

© Cover photoshopped and edited by XxScarletxRosexX © Miraculous: The Lost Memoirs written by XxScarletxRosexX © Miraculous Ladybug: The Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir belongs to Thomas Astruc © Lyrics from Flashlight by Jessie J. © Easter Egg idea from Instagram: where the same bouquet has been used in multiple scenarios (I cannot find the reference at the moment!) © Eater Egg 2 from a scene in Weredad © Location of College Francois Dupont / Francois Dupont High School referenced from Episode: Robocop

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous ladybug Fanfiction #fanfiction #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #tikki #plagg #nino lahiffe #mr. dupain #marinette dupain cheng #scarlywroteathing

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p-artsypants · 6 years ago

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P-Artsypants Fanfiction Masterpost!

I feel like I’m always making a new one of these posts every few months, but I honestly just write so much that it makes sense...

Updated so most recent Fandom is at the top.

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

Fanfiction.net | Archive of Our Own | Wattpad

(~AU’s, *Finished, ❤️Author's Favorites)

Kingdom Hearts

~❤️Rage Awakened AO3 | FF.net- Ten years ago, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus lost their fellow apprentice, Sora, in Deep Jungle. Now, they are to return with two new students, Riku and Kairi, to lock the heart of the world. All the while, something watches from the trees. Feral!Sora AU

My Kingdom for a Heart AO3 | FF.Net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows.

Miraculous Ladybug

One Shots

*❤️Amalgam- When an young man is rejected for being ‘incompatible’ he turns into the akuma ‘Amalgam’ able to fuse two people together. And later Adrien and Marinette would debate if it was lucky or unlucky that they got hit.

*Sing We All Noel- After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

*Speechless- In a world where everyone has a soulmark, the first words their soulmate will say to them, Marinette is born without one. But Adrien Agreste has two. Curious, considering he’s mute.

*❤️Tunnels of Love- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

*The Reveal That Wasn’t- First Parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

*What A Mess We’re In- Ladybug has a lot on her mind, and when Chat Noir bugs her enough, she tells him she’s going to confess to her Crush, Adrien Agreste. Chat’s reaction is not what she’s expecting.

Long Fics

*❤️Nine Lives- (FF.net) When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I’ll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

*Tender Words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

How To Train Your Dragon

One Shots

The Vikings Have Their Tea (FF.Net | AO3)

Arranged Marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

❤️Breathe- Survival of the fittest

~Childhood Friends- At the Sandbox

❤️Easy Fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~Fashion Designer- Astrid needs a fill in

❤️Frozen- In Which Astrid takes a Dip and things get frisky (Rated M)

❤️Headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

❤️Heir- In Which Hiccup is Picked (Longer version by FateCharms)

Illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~Illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~In the Walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~Knocking On The Wrong Door (2) - A chance encounter

❤️Messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~To Mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~Monster Falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

❤️Mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~Music Video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

❤️Operation: Lovebirds- In Which the gang makes a plan, and Hiccup gets Drunk

~Over- Too many nightmares

~Partners in Crime- A normal day at work

~Pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~Prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

❤️Sorting Things Out- In Which Astrid gets her ducks in a row

~The Dragon and The Dame- Beauty and the Beast Au

The Pit- In Which Hiccup is rescued

Hide and Seek- Part 1

Lost and Found- Part 2

Long fics:

*❤️Infernal Responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*❤️Roses and Lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!”

*~What the Water Gave Me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*Parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 State Street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~❤️The North Tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

*~❤️Boy Toy- AO3 - At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

No, You Go First- AO3 - The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

*In Due Time- AO3 - As another illness sweeps through Berk, Gothi needs another ingredient for her medicine…one that doesn’t exist anymore. Fortunately, she kept that old spell book around for such an occasion. Big Hiccup is sent to five years into the past, and his younger self sent to take his place in the future. But it’s only a few days, what could go wrong?

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

❤️Arcadia or Bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens.

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~Big Brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

Dear Jason- Bruce Writes a letter

Just Drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

The Prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

Of Mustard and Three Foot Purple Tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~❤️Carol of the Bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*No Escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*Now you Know My Pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*Paint it Black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*Saving Grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Other Fandoms

Final Fantasy XV

❤️Requiem for Pitioss-“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

Beauty and the Beast

*❤️Behold the Beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

*❤️Midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

*So This is Love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

*❤️A Love Song Back To Me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

Down Feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

*Angel’s Wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

Momma Look Sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.

#fanfiction #kingdom hearts #miraculous ladybug #httyd #disney #beauty and the beast #sleeping beauty #escaflowne #cinderella #ffxv #Teen Titans #trollhunters

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giganticactus · 5 years ago

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9.20.19

The last three years have felt like an absolute eternity.

On this day, three years ago, my recovery began. Three years ago, I was a shell of a person barely functioning enough to brush my teeth more days of the week than not. I hated myself to the point that I couldn't bare living life as the person I was. There was nothing about my personality or my mind that I did not despise. I had zero goals or hope or dreams for the future. I couldn't see my future beyond only a few days ahead. For a long time, I didn't want to find it.

My personality was a dark ball of depression and loneliness and emptiness. In constant need of an escape. In desperate need for help. I considered myself, no longer human, for a large chunk of 2016. There was no personality or humanity in my body. I was truly nothing but a combination of debilitating mental illnesses. I was living off of nothing else but guilt and codepency on a person I was in a very toxic relationship with at the time.

On this day three years ago, I broke off that relationship. It was the fourth day in a row which I didn't have suicidal thoughts. I felt that I truly had a 1% chance of surviving myself without her. I decided that I had to take that chance while it was in front of me. I had to let go of the one person who I knew was holding me down.

For another two months, I did nothing but sit at home, focused on avoiding triggers and finding ways to cope with the triggers. I played video games at all hours of the day, I forced myself to limit the food I ate while making sure I did still eat, trying to eat food that wasn't pure junk. Drank water as often as I thought about it. Focused on the parts of me that I hated most and tried my best not to hate them.

I realized, in the beginning of my recovery, that I had to build myself back up into a human being again. I had to recreate my personality and my relationships and social skills. I had to create motivation to get anywhere in my physical life. And it dawned on me. If I have to build myself back up, why would I go back to the person who put me onto this position in the first place?

The qualities that I wanted most in the person I wanted to be were: motivated, and didn't immediately run away from anything bigger than a mild inconveinece. I wanted to face challenges head on, I wanted to want to overcome obstacles. I've always been such a lazy person by nature that I wanted nothing to do with anything that wasn't completely easy to me. As I slowly built this person over the coming months, I got a temporary job working at Walmart over the holidays.

That seasonal job at Walmart that I spent 40 hours a week at for six weeks, was the best thing to happen to me in my recovery. It was just challenging enough that I was able to thrive from the challenges. I got my first hint of customer service skills, I worked as part of a team, I made friends. I learned a lot of responsibility and I rode my bike everyday to get there. But the number one thing that job did for me, was give me a sense of purpose. People relied on me. I had a job to do and I didn't have the option of walking away from it. I had a purpose. I hadn't had that feeling my entire life. And I must say, I was pretty good at it. I learned things pretty fast and honestly the only negative quality I had at that job was that I lacked a sense of urgency. But it wasn't hard to work around, and it definitely improved in the weeks I worked there. Two of my biggest fears were handling difficult customers and answering phones. Both of which I had to endure, and nine times out of ten they turned out well. I always had other people to fall back on as a safety net if I messed up. I was only eighteen, and the youngest worker in the store. Everybody looked out for me when I needed it and gave me a little push when I needed it as well. That job gave me a completely different outlook on the working industry and who Walmart is as a company. Both, in very positive light.

After that job ended, I was unemployed for five months. In that time I went back to my previous habits after my recovery began, but I was also a little more diligent about looking for another job. I had a small lick of motivation to find another purpose, but had trouble finding work that was close enough to ride my bike to, and would hire me with only six weeks of work experience.

I was hanging out with a friend of mine that April. He brought along a friend of his that we went to high school with. This friend was a shiftlead at my favorite place to eat. He asked me about what I was doing at the time, and when I told him I wasn't in school and didn't have a job, he told me that his work was desperate for hires. I was unsure about it, mostly because the store was a two and a half mile trip from my house, and the idea of riding my bike that far everyday sounded just a little bit like a real life horror movie. I told him I would think about it and he gave me his phone number for when I made my decision. A week later, he set up an interview with his manager for me and told me when to come in. I rode my back at two o'clock in the afternoon in early may to this interview where I was hired on the spot.

2017 was a year of recovery. I continued to build myself up and find habits that made me happy and healthy as I could be. I was truly the happiest I've ever been, in 2017. My depression quickly withered to a pebble because of this job and the friends I made. Riding my bike was great exercise, and I worked at a salad restaurant and was eating good healthy food. I was honestly of top of the fucking world.

In March of 2018, I met a boy. He was filling in from another store while we were short staffed. He was big and he was goofy and about as friendly as a stranger can get. Something about him drew me toward him. I knew from the day we met, that he was someone special. After a few days of chatting and working together, we and two other worker friends of mine hung out after work one day. He was the last one I brought home that night, and when he learned in to kiss me, I though "fuck it", and it was the best "what's the worst that could happen" decision I've made in my entire life.

We dated for one year and two weeks before breaking things off for complicated reasons. It wasn't a good breakup (if those exist), but it definitely wasn't a bad one. After we got out bearings and thoughts and feelings sorted, a week later we met up for the first time again to talk. Things weren't awkward, but it was sad. After that, we decided to remain friends for fear of losing eachother. There was a short period over the summer that we lost touch, while I was on my bender, but a month later we got to talking and hanging out again. We are in a very good place right now and see eachother often, once or twice a week. He is my best friend. And while the idea of getting back together has been kind of the elephant in the room for the last few weeks, for right now I'm enjoying the time I can spend with him.

My health and happiness fluctuate a lot. I currently just got out of a deep depression pit myself, due to denial of an environmental stressor I've chosen to ignore for nearly a year.

What truly matters, is doing my best. Finding what works and what doesn't. Keeping myself as far away as possible from where I was three years ago. The number one thing, is learning to love who I am. Changing the negative qualities that I can, and accepting the ones that I can't. Taking actions to keep myself as healthy and happy as possible while maintaining relationships and a shitty career.

I'm endlessly grateful for where I am today. I'm endlessly grateful for the journey I had to take to get here, and for the opportunities and decisions I will have in the future.

Right now, I'm finding reasons to be happy. Holding onto the people around me, finding balance between things I have and want and need, and finding goals and hope for the future. I am doing really good right now, recovering from my bender. I realized this time last year, that I will be in recovery for the rest of my life. And I know that its okay. Recovery means coming up from the down. The journey ahead looking better than the path left behind. I'm endlessly grateful.

Overall, I'm fairly happy. I have family whom I love and love me. I don't have many friends but the few close friends I have are extremely important to me. The situation at work is going better than it has been, and I'm currently looking for a second job. I've moved out of my dads house and hope to move out on my own pretty soon. Things look good right now. I have hope. I have things to look forward to, I have a better hold of saving money, and have a million things I want to save for. For instance, buying a new car and taking trips to Colorado to hold me over until I can eventually move there.

Recovery is a process I'm well familiar with. Rock bottom and I are old friends that I plan to never reunite with.

One last note I want to leave, is a message to the person I left on September 20th, 2016.

I see you. I see you as a human being. I see you as a human being with struggles. When I think about who you were three years ago, I see a human being.

I remember everything. The words said, the feelings felt, the anger and love and hatred shared. The memories and experiences, I remember it all.

I know now, especially after a similar friendship I had this past summer, what our relationship looked like. What it really was. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I saw a certain comment on social media that hit me like a train. And I had a whole new perspective to the situation.

I've always known what you did to me. How your words and your actions affected me. I know how codependent I became. How much I dreaded the idea of living life without you. How much I hated you some days and loved you on others. How desperate I was for your attention and the empty feeling I had whenever you would push me away. How grateful I was for the times you were there.

I've realized lately, of the impact I had on you. While I've never gotten your direct take on everything, I do now know some things. I know that I put you into a harmful situation. I trapped you in a spot that any action you took could become dangerous. At a young age, another person depended on you in a way that no person should. I realize now, the pressure I put on you. The damage I had to have caused at the time.

I don't know your true intentions of the time. I don't know what you thought or how you felt. I know that you hid a lot from me. I know now that it truly was for the better of both of us. I expected far more from you than I never should have asked. I see it now. I see the intensity of the impact it must have had.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm sorry for putting you in that situation that I depended on you so instensely. I'm sorry for the pressure. I'm sorry for the despair and desperation. I never should have done that to you. I'm truly, insanely sorry. I don't blame you for a single thing. I forgive you for any hardships caused. I'm sorry for any hardships I had caused you and your family. You didn't deserve it. I'm sorry.

#tw: suidice #tw: mental health #me #you #9.20.19 #9.20.16 #2016

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talistheintrovert · 6 years ago

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The 100 Ask Game

I was tagged by all these fabulous cuties @peraltiagosclarke @prophecy-gurl @mamabearsdontthink @thelittlefanpire and I adore them 💖

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from? Probably Arrow Station, because it sounds rad?? I don’t have many space applicable skills, because my maths is terrible and I can’t grow anything, and we don’t know what the Arrow Station people did, so I can say that they were the keepers of library and it could possibly be true. I would probably be an archivist or something.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? Something similar to Clarke? I’m not really the illegal activies type, but I like to think I wouldn’t just sit aside while injustices happened, and if I’m an archivist, I’ve probably got access to lots of information about the Ark that people don’t want the general public to know.

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? Probably? But I’d probably have given it to Monty - don’t want to be skewered by the other delinquents, but I don’t want to be unhelpful and that’s a happy medium.

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..) Maybe a book? Or a dragon. Either or 😅

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? WELLS MOTHAFUCKING JAHA. OBVIOUSLY.

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? Clarke, Bellamy, Murphy, Monty and Raven (but if we’re counting season 6 Raven so far, then I change my answer to Emori)

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to? Probably Podakru? I fucking love lakes man.

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? The same, probably? Tah-liss maybe???

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious. I think he’s a well-written character who served his purpose; we were supposed to love him in the start and grow to dislike who he became. His arc is one of the better written ones in the show.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? Not very. Pain is how we know we’re alive. Living with depression, I know what it’s like to feel completely numb. Pain is better.

11. What character do you relate to most? Clarke/Bellamy/Murphy. All three of them, for varied and complex reasons, but in particular as of season 5, Clarke.

12. What character do you like the least? ............Echo. Because I don’t like badly written characters and it bums me out that she wasn’t written better when they made her a main.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical) Black jeans, Doc Martens, large loose v-cut shirt tied off at the side, fingerless gloves.

14. Favorite type of mutant animal? One of the water ones. Imagine being a giant mutated river creature just fucking with people and living your life of solitude??? 10 out of 10.

15. What would your job be on the Ark? Archivist/writer/scribe.

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked? Yep. I’m not that squeamish and I’d do ANYTHING to help Clarke Griffin while she saves the world.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive, then who would have made the best commander? Indra.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? I’d probably either get supremely paranoid like Jasper does or cry to my mum the way Clarke talks to her dad.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach? I am the Bellamy Blake of my own life, so

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone? No chancellors, in this house we have a round table where every member of the government is on equal standing and there is a speaker of the house, but that person isn’t given extra power, just the ability to control the meetings.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis? I would have been on Kane’s, or I would have left, probably to find Clarke.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there? iPod, speakers, anything to play music on. I truly can’t live without it.

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? No war paint, red hair in a bi-bob, tattoos would probably have words on them.

24. Favorite quote? “Your life can be more than just impossible decisions and a tragic end. You can choose to live.” - Wells Jaha

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? All of them??? Shit... probably Anya or Luna?

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE Least favourite canon ship is Becho, but non-canon I feel it’s important to mention that I loathe JORDAN WITH OCTAVIA. Or, Jordan with anyone at the moment, really - let him learn to be a whole person before he gets a love interest, I’m begging you.

Favourite canon ship: Marper

Favourite non-canon: Ice Jaha (Wells/Roan) or Wells and anyone really. I miss my soft son.

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo? Any song by Faouzia would be fabulous, or Florence and the Machine. And if there was going to be a guest star I’d probably want a niche british actor that I love, like Andrew Scott or OH FUCK, Robert Sheehan would be AMAZING.

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? Probably the same as Murphy - sing, go through everything, slowly devolve into depression and madness. Pull each other out of it by making bets about how long it would take blarke to get together.

29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die? Shot in the head, probably? That seems fast.

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? DIYOZA DIYOZA DIYOZA

31. A character you’d bang? Probably Murphy? He seems like he’d be fun. Or Monty because he’d be sweet. (listen, i wanna fuck clarke and bellamy as much as the next bisexual, but i am WAY more invested in them fucking each other, so)

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden? Live on my own in Eden, because I, like Clarke, enjoy isolation as my main unhealthy coping mechanism.

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground? Probably? Path of least resistance and all that. And I’d write, maybe document the events as well as writing stories.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits? Writing something negative about Blodreina, I suppose;

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with? I’d bond with Murphy first, we’d both isolate ourselves to one side of the ship to avoid the love-in. I’d probably never get on with Echo.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself? Not sure. Depends how bad my depression is versus my anxiety.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do? Run and hide, boys - run and hide. I’ve always been the sniper type more than the attack type: get the high ground.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite? Fave: MY GOOD BITCH DIYOZA.

Least fave: McCreary, that slimy fuck.

39. Would you Spacewalk? Maybe... depends on if my anxiety would kick in really hard. Probably not???

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat? Windshield bugs.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it? I’d try to avoid war at all costs. I’d probably try and broker a way for the eligius people to help rebuild Polis, and then create a city there and have trade routes built between them - the farmers would move to the valley and the warriors and other types would stay in Polis.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes? Dig out flesh-eating worms - that way I’m saving someone, not killing them.

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia? Depends how bad my sister was behaving - if it was Octavia bad?? Yeah, but I’d be Peak Bellamy Levels Of Stress about it. And I would honestly do my best to discredit her before I took any physical action - spreading dissent works, surprisingly well: look at politics.

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper? Sleep? Depends who else was awake, but probably sleep.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet? Clarke and Bellamy, as Marper decreed, followed by Murphy, Emori, Raven, Shaw, Diyoza, Jackson, Miller, and probably even Echo, because every mission needs a redcoat and it shouldn’t have been Shaw.

I’m tagging some faves @clarkgriffon @hostagetakerandhistraitor @nvermindiseeyou @anne-shirley-blythe @foreverandalwayscrysis @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky and anyone else who wants to do it!!

#the 100 #tag game #the 100 tag game #mutuals tag #favourite bitches tag #this was HARRRRRRD #but it was pretty fun

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10000badframes · 6 years ago

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Why I Left Music

To understand why I left music, you've got to start with why and how I got into music.

When I was little, I was deaf, and when my hearing was restored, it came back in stages. I would listen, rapt, to a My First Symphony tape as the sections of the orchestra were introduced one by one, and as time went on, each became more intelligible. High pitches were easier to discern, so the flute stood out like a beam of light in the darkness. What's more, I was surrounded by music on a daily basis. My dad is a wildly creative and intuitive musician, proficient on a number of instruments, my mother and brother sang beautifully, and my sister had been singing and playing violin from an early age. We sang as a family at home and at church, and I was in choir and handbell choir from my earliest memories on. I don't remember not being able to read music. I started with piano, and moved to flute once my arms were long enough for the starter headjoint, in about fourth grade. My first teacher was the principle flute player with the Rochester Philharmonic, and when I moved to Iowa, I learned from the principal of the Des Moines Symphony. Both teachers made the smart move of throwing repertoire at me which was much more advanced than the usual stuff at my level, and because I didn't know it was supposed to be hard, I rocketed forward at a feverish pace. I continued with choir and handbell choir, and as my skill became more evident, I added youth orchestra, honor band, and pit orchestras, and that was just after school. During school I was in marching band, concert band, jazz band, and orchestra. I attended elite months-long summer camps for the nation's best young musicians. I competed regularly, and at one point was considered to be one of the top three musicians in my age bracket in the country. My first tattoo was of a treble clef. As a shy child in a talented family, I was pleased to have found my talent, the thing I didn't have to work very hard at in order to achieve great things. I rested my self-confidence on that talent, and when opportunities came up to show it off, I didn't turn them down. Nobody forced me to do any of the activities above; it came with a built-in social life and plentiful affirmation, so I almost never paused to think about whether or not this was something I actually wanted to do forever. It was simply assumed, as inherent a fact of life as the sunrise. I probably should have known it wasn't for me when practicing was boring; almost unbearable. I heard about people enjoying practicing, and assumed that they were lying in order to look good. I would avoid it however I could, and did pretty well regardless. I loved ensemble work because I loved music, but listening to myself for hours on end, however good the result was, was miserable. At the worst of times, I assumed that my hatred of practicing meant that I was lazy and undisciplined, inherently a bad artist, and probably a bad person. I heard talk about 'flow state,' and how it made the time fly. Having never achieved it, I assumed that it was a lie. Since I'd specialized to such a high degree, music was the only course to follow in college. The culture surrounding classical music then became much more evident, divorced as it was from my little Midwestern fishbowl. I learned about the way I was expected to present my gender, and was pressured by my teacher to grow out my pixie cut out of concern that I wasn't feminine enough to be a flute player. I learned about the ingrained gender divide, and how child-bearing was considered the knell of doom for female musicians. I learned that I was one of thousands of young musicians all competing for the same handful of jobs, which could wait for perfection to walk through the door as the market was so flooded. I learned that blind auditions don't mask your gender if the judges can hear you inhale. Most depressing of all, I learned that my chances of getting an orchestral job - the only thing which I enjoyed about being a musician - were so small as to be statistically impossible. I would have to join the military, become a teacher, or quit. At first, I quit. Two years into my bachelor's degree at a prestigious school, I quit, leaving my family and community reeling in shock. They had all invested faith, time, and money in my dream of being a musician, and I had thrown it away. To them, it appeared to be an impulsive, flaky, and selfish decision to make, flying in the face of every opportunity I'd been given. To me, I was trying to stand up for myself. I was lost, depressed, occasionally suicidal, and suffering from ulcers. I was still battling the notion that I was lazy and undisciplined, and now everyone I knew saw me in the worst possible light. I leaned into my new failure status, and piled bad choices on top of bad choices, embarrassing myself and my family. Years later, when I had leveled out somewhat and come to terms with the fact that I needed a bachelor's degree in order to be taken seriously on the job market, I wanted to do anything except for music. I enrolled in a community college and took math, science, and art courses, the latter having been a hobby of mine since I was young. I'd been drawing cartoons to put in my boyfriend's lunch for years, and in my drawing and painting classes, I honed the skill. When the time came to transfer my credits to the state college, the majority of my post-high school credits were in art and music. I applied at the state's art school, and was turned down. My financial reality became clear; in order to get a bachelor's degree in under three years, the majority of my transferrable credits were in music, so to music I had to return. I was accepted at the music school, and went back to rehearsals, practicing, and competing. It was much the same as the last time, in ways both good and bad, with the notable difference that this time I was resigned to the impossibility of it all. Whenever people said they'd had a satisfying practice session, I lied through my teeth and said I had, too. I incurred my debt, got my degree, and left with zero intention of pursuing a master's, surfing a new wave of disappointment from teachers and my community alike. The shambling zombie of my career ambitions followed me when I moved to New York City due to my husband's job, and I paid hundreds of dollars for lessons from eminent professionals at Juilliard and the New York Philharmonic. I took masterclasses, invested in new equipment, and auditioned. Nothing substantial ever came from it, as the statistics had foretold. I watched my classmates move into the military and teaching, with a lucky few going on to teach at the collegiate level, and even fewer achieving a performance career. I practiced, and hated every minute. Then, at my breaking point, I watched Monsters University. It's such a weird way to switch gears. People took a number of things away from their experience of MU; mine was the message that you can be amazing at something and still never hope to make a career of it. What you have to do when you've faced up to that truth is to find what you loved about the career you thought you were going to have and apply it somewhere else. Adapt. Something better might be waiting. I thought about how live music is being replaced with synthesized music and orchestras are dying across the nation. I looked at my dusty art portfolio. There were dozens of animators in that credits sequence after MU, I thought. There are two flutes in every orchestra. The next day, I sat down with my husband at lunch, and said, "let's move to California. I want to be a 3D animator." This was surprising coming from me; I'd only ever reluctantly taken to digital media, and barely knew how to use Photoshop. My reasoning was that if I wanted to be at the forefront of a growing industry, and if I re-trained in animation, I would have a better chance of getting work than I had now (there was nowhere to go but up in that respect.) There would be more opportunities for both of us out in California, where his company had a major office, and where several prominent studios were housed. He agreed immediately, and got me The Illusion of Life for my 29th birthday. Maya is a hell of a tough program at the best of times. It has a mind of its own, and even when everything is running smoothly, you have to contend with such gauntlets as the graph editor (a mathematical representation of motion over time.) You know what you want the characters to do, but you have to use this thorny, labyrinthine program to do it, and I've cried many tears of frustration over it. You are responsible for every single movement, every blink, every shrug, every breath. It is dizzyingly easy to mess up, and impossibly, sixteen-dimensionally complicated. And yet. Flow state, that thing I thought was a lie? I found it. It was about six months in, while I was still wrestling with the program. I was grappling with the reality that I'm not naturally good at this, that my talent lies elsewhere, and any progress I make in this quarter will come from elbow grease alone. I was making adjustments to a scene, and realized that four hours had passed unnoticed. I felt energized and satisfied. I craved more. At thirty, I found out that I wasn't lazy and undisciplined, that I didn't hate hard work, that I wasn't a terrible person - I was just very, very good at something I didn't truly want to do. Now, I struggle and weep and sink weeks and months into seconds worth of footage, and I love it. Wild horses couldn't keep me away.

#career change #classical music #flow state #3d animation #personal

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