#he did not make the best decisions in his life

[whumpster-fire]

Someone in the notes said:

and he makes sure that his (also grumpy) daughter feels safe loved and self assured

Okay, like... I think he gets marginally better in the 11th and 12th movies (which I'm not rewatching to confirm because "The series actually finally addresses the fact that Cera's mom is dead and that his dad rekindling a relationship with someone she doesn't even know is hard" is pretty much the only thing those two films did well and is very much a B-plot that doesn't actually get enough screen time to justify sitting through the rest of those movies) but Topps doesn't do a very good job of this for at least the entire first half of the series.

Original Film: taught his daughter to be racist. Which to be clear was not working nearly as well as he hoped and the whole reason Cera got separated from her herd is because she snuck off to play with Littlefoot in the middle of the night. She got worse after the whole Sharptooth Attack / giant earthquake separating her from her family thing but, like, Cera started imitating her father's racism more after ending up in a very traumatic situation as a result of disobeying her dad's order to not play with Littlefoot.

Second Movie: Cera makes an incredibly stupid and reckless decision that nearly gets the entire gang killed. Cera, later: "I suppose you all got the same lecture I did? Don't hang around with longnecks, beakfaces and spiketails." (everyone else is shocked because their safety lectures did not involve racism). Just to be clear, the gang tried to cross a lake of quicksand over some stepping stones. This was entirely 100% Cera's idea, nobody else wanted to try it, and her friends putting themselves in danger trying to help her literally saved her life. She would have died before any adult could even get to her. Topps proceeded to try to blame this on her friends being bad influences and is racist about it. Anyway Cera then proposes the group run away from home to prove to the adults that they can take care of themselves, which is also a horrible idea but like. Reading between the lines here Cera is acting out because her idiot father is trying to isolate her from her support system.

Third Movie: this is the one where Topps sings a cool song that some people in the notes mentioned. This moment is somewhat undercut by the fact that this happens while he's trying to bully the rest of the Great Valley into accepting an incredibly stupid water rationing plan and attempting to justify it with the "I'm a parent too and I'm just doing what's best for my child and all our children" card. His plan seems to have been to give every species a set time of day when they were allowed to drink. Nobody else expected him to be stupid enough to include the children who are probably like <1% of the adults' body weight in this, but then it turned out he was that stupid. He then tried to isolate Cera from her friends again, and capped it all off by almost getting himself and Cera killed because he started a pissing contest over not wanting to follow a wildfire evacuation plan because Littlefoot's grandparents came up with it.

Fifth Movie: okay so the Great Valley got hit with a massive locust plague and the entire interspecies herd was forced out of it to look for food. The herd discovers a skeleton of a dinosaur of Ducky's species out in the desert. Topps proceeds to say they can't make any deductions about there being no food in the direction the corpse was traveling from because this species are infamously stupid and the dead one probably got lost. In front of several members of said species. He then instigated such a massive fight that the herds decided to re-split up by species although it's not totally clear if everyone was doing this individually or if it was just the Threehorns. In any case the gang actually runs away this time to avoid being split up with the idea that if they all obviously ran off in the same direction their parents will be forced to search for them in the same direction.

Sixth Movie: Cera is stuck babysitting her much younger niece and nephew (she presumably has an adult sibling that we've never seen) and is sick of it. I do not know what any of the adults involved in this was thinking making the kid who is consistently some random location with her friends instead of hanging out anywhere near her herd and also has run away from home like four times by this point responsible for supervising two gremlin toddlers.

Seventh Movie: Topps is finally right about something: not trusting Petrie's sketchy con artist uncle. Nobody in the friend group except Cera trusts his opinion at all because usually when Topps doesn't trust someone it's because he's racist.

He's not, like, abusive and Cera loves him and is trying to have a good relationship with him, but also his daughter is the one kid in the friend group with a kind of messed up home life, and Topps's role in the adult community of the Great Valley is basically "The worst guy on the HOA board."

Cera's dad in the Land Before Time movies is called Daddy Topps

i need to make sure you all know that

[zreamy]

things i know that i can't have (teaser)

jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it.

genres: college au, (established) fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

teaser warnings: minors dni, smut (yn sends nudes and jake jerks off)..........extremely dramatic (jake is going through it basically)

teaser word count: 1,125 (chose peace)

fic word count: probably around 35k???

post date: apr 3 !!!

message from zo: yeah uh huh zreamy finally finished a jake fic.. yeah uh huh (i say as i'm still writing this fic.. im affirming #lawofassumption ..sigh whatever whatever) the wip page is literally cursed !!! it is it is it is .. anyway.. jake nation will always win accept me please jake nation.......

r/Christianity 

u/footballfan1511 | 2m

How bad is premarital sex, really? (Need quick answers!!!)

I (20M) have been having sex with my friend (20F) for three weeks now. I knew it was wrong, but she’s everything (very hot, totally, completely sexy), so I didn’t care. BUT I just saw this verse (Matthew 5:28-30) and apparently it’s a sin just to THINK about it??? 

The last time we did ‘it’ was this morning before church (sorry), and I was supposed to go over there tonight, but I’ve been freaking out about that verse all day…….. idk what to do but I really like her, so much, and I still want this, with her. Please give me advice .. 

Every Thursday night. Ten p.m. sharp. Almost no exceptions. You call Jake, talking shit for as long as it takes one thing to lead to another. Tonight is an exception—you had friends over, rescheduled for midnight. Jake lies in bed, hair still damp from his post-football training shower, counting each minute as it passes. 23:55. His leg is shaking. 23:56. He sits up straight, jolting as if waking from a nightmare, nerves sharp and restless as his thumbs fly over the keyboard, texting Sunghoon. 

Jake: What about phone sex?

Jake: Like if I don’t think about her while I do it? 

Sunghoon’s groan reaches Jake through the thin walls of their shared flat. Drawn-out and long-suffering. Read receipt. 23:57. Three dots. 

Hoon: I can’t tell you what to think, but if you’re asking me then you probably alr know

Hoon: Also..??? Do you think you can jack your shit on the phone without thinking about her 😭😭😭

Jake snorts despite himself, much too loud for the quiet. Echoing as if even the room disapproves. He closes his eyes, shakes his head. Palm to his cheek. A low smack, half-joking, half-sincere. Guilt snakes around him, a hot, unwelcome coil that won’t ease. Jake gets the sense that the choice ahead — to answer or not to answer — might drastically skew his life one way or another. 

A minute early. 23:59. Your name on his screen. Phone humming in his hold, pulse lashing his throat. On the other end of the line, before he has the chance to weigh his options, you dead the call—making his decision for him. 

Jake’s heart stumbles, clumsy in his chest. He thinks of the verse, sharp and prickly—crown of thorns on heavy head. He has been thinking about it since Saturday morning. Extra training with Team B, avoiding you, six-thirty wake-ups to join Sunghoon at the rink. Ice-cold mornings melting into afternoons. No matter what he tries, it always comes back. Lustful intent, adultery, with her. And despite his best efforts to pray for rapture, Thursday has come, and Jake has lived to see it. 

A minute late. 00:01. Your name on his screen. Hovering thumb. He knows that phone sex and sex-sex aren’t the same thing, Matthew didn’t even have a phone—but if he could’ve, and he could’ve known you, and you wanted him? Jake sighs. He should answer. If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off, and throw it away. The words sink their senile claws into him, holding on for dear, frail life. His phone stills in his palm. 

You don’t call again. You never have. If this phone call is going to happen, it’s up to Jake to make it so. This knowledge and its weight multiply by the second. An itch he doesn’t try to scratch, knowing he won’t be able to reach it. Another agonising nine minutes trudge along. 00:10. His phone buzzes on his chest, and he knows it’s you before he looks. Two texts.

YN: Said you’d stay up for me Yunie :((( 

YN: You don’t think I’m worth the wait?

Reading your messages through the notifications, he’s having a hard time convincing himself not to reply. Not to tell you he waited, that of course, you’re worth it. His guilt loosens, making space for his desire to reassure you—he cannot rule out the possibility that this desire outweighs his guilt. Silence settles in his room, stretched thin and strange around him. He sighs. 

YN: Attachments: 2 images

YN: Wanted to hear your reaction, but you can tell me when you’re up ig.

YN: Night, loser :P 

Butterflies, sudden and bright—teenaged. Foolish. Tucked under the notification, the photos dare him to look. His curiosity clicks it, and the first picture fills the screen, yanking his breath from his lungs. 

Most of your face is cut off, showing only your lips—pouty and glossy and pretty. Pulling at him in a way he’s not quite equipped to name. This would be enough for him, an innocent selfie, you and those pretty eyes, that smile. More than enough—pulse quickening just thinking about it. His gaze lingers on your lips, stuck for a while. Then, unintentionally, his eyes flick lower. Hair fanned over your pillow, breasts peeking out from under black lace. Fuck. A sight he’s seen a million times, but somehow, each time feels like the first. Jake gulps. Holy shit. He ignores the throbbing in his pants, how much tighter they are—he won’t give in. No matter how badly he’s craving it. He’s stronger than that. With his eyes, he traces your lips. Ogles until his screen dims, locking the picture away again.

Picture two. Fuck. You on your stomach, grainy in your webcam. Arched back, black lace panties over your hips. Fuck. The lingerie, the shape of your body.. Seeing you like this, so perfect and all for him—it’s taking every last shred of his self-control not to get in his car and rush over to you. Want, need, tugs at him. A tether he can’t break. His phone locks. 

Enough is enough. He drags his feet all the way back to the shower, oppressive cold water hitting him. Doing absolutely nothing for his revolting need. This isn’t working—not the water, not the attempt at self-control. Not when he’s already hard and aching against his stomach. Soft breasts. Round ass. Wet—his hand moves instinctively, forehead resting on the cool tiles. He closes his eyes, your body clear in the dark. Full lips. Arched back. He’s breathless when he finishes, head bowed as heat coils low in his stomach. The water carries his release away. Nose crinkled as it swirls around the drain, cringing at the sight—guilt, shame curling around him.

Again, he dries off, pulls on clean pyjamas, and drags his feet to bed. On his side, he closes his eyes, your body like a brand behind his eyelids, thoughts filling the quiet in his room. Exhaustion however, is its own kind of mercy, and eventually, pulls him under.

[bitchinbarzal]

Unsent Texts | M Barzal

summary: syd steals mat’s phone to uncover how your break up really made him feel.

-

You weren’t supposed to be thinking about Mat tonight.

You were supposed to be having a normal, drama-free dinner with your best friend, Sydney.

But the universe had other plans.

Because somehow, in the middle of drinks and half-finished appetizers, Sydney accidentally unlocked Mat’s phone. And now? Now you’re staring at hundreds of unsent messages—all of them to you.

It had been months since you and Mat ended things. At first, it was unbearable—learning to sleep alone, getting used to waking up without hearing his voice, forcing yourself to unlearn the way you fit so easily into his life. But you did it. You moved on. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You didn’t check his Instagram anymore. You didn’t avoid places you knew he’d be. When people mentioned his name, you smiled politely, like it didn’t twist something deep in your chest.

And you definitely, definitely didn’t still have a note in your phone filled with messages you were too afraid to send.

But it was there. Just sitting in your drafts, filled with late-night thoughts and regrets:

• I miss you.

• I saw your post-game interview today. You looked tired. Are you okay?

• I hate that I still think about you this much.

You could delete it. You should delete it. But you never did.

Sydney had mentioned casually earlier in the night that Mat was at their house before she left to meet you. It wasn’t unusual—he was always around since Matt and him were practically attached at the hip. You brushed it off at the time, convincing yourself it didn’t matter.

But now, here you were, holding his phone in your hands. Because he had left it at the Martin’s house, and Sydney—being Sydney—grabbed it, meaning to bring it back to him later.

And now you’re staring at your name on his screen.

And a message.

“I keep typing these, but I never send them. I don’t even know if you’d want to hear from me. But I miss you.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Y/N?” Sydney says softly.

You don’t answer.

You just scroll.

Because it’s not just one message.

It’s dozens.

No—hundreds.

Unsent texts, stretching back months.

• I saw something today that reminded me of you. I wanted to tell you but… I didn’t know if I should.

• I don’t even know why I’m typing this. Maybe just to pretend like you’re still here.

• I miss your laugh. I fucking hate that I miss your laugh.

• I hate that I let this happen.

Your chest tightens. Because you had done the exact same thing. You had unsent messages too—ones you never dared to send, ones you forced yourself to delete because you thought Mat had already moved on.

But he hadn’t. Not even close.

“Y/N,” Sydney says again, more serious this time. “What are you gonna do?”

You shake your head, gripping the phone tighter. “I don’t know.”

Because there was only one real option.

You could pretend you never saw this. Put the phone down, walk away, let the past stay buried.

Or You could type a message of your own.

And this time, hit send.

Before you can make a decision, the restaurant door swings open.

And suddenly, there he is.

Mat.

Wearing a hoodie, damp hair from the cold, looking like he rushed here the second he realized his phone was missing. His eyes lock onto you immediately. Then flick down.

To his phone.

In your hand.

And you watch it happen—the realization, the panic, the sharp inhale when he realizes exactly what you’ve seen.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Sydney coughs awkwardly. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

But neither of you even notice her get up.

Because Mat’s eyes are locked on yours, his whole chest rising and falling like he’s bracing for impact.

And then—quietly, hesitantly—he asks, “Did you read them?”

Your throat is dry. You can barely breathe.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I did.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. He swallows hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was gonna delete them,” he admits. “I just… never could.”

You exhale shakily. “Neither could I.”

His gaze snaps to yours, wide. Disbelieving.

And suddenly, the air between you is charged with something new. Something unfinished. Something that, for the first time in a long time, feels like hope.

The restaurant feels smaller now. Like the walls are pressing in, like the air is thinner, like you might suffocate under the weight of everything you never said.

Mat stares at you, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides like he’s afraid if he moves too fast, you’ll disappear.

And maybe he’s right.

Maybe you should disappear.

Maybe you should walk away right now and leave him with nothing but his own regrets, the same way he left you.

But you don’t.

Instead, you whisper, “Why didn’t you ever send them?”

Mat exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Because I was a coward.”

You blink, not expecting him to say it so bluntly.

“I thought about you every day,” he continues, voice low, hoarse. “Every fucking day, Y/N. But I convinced myself you were better off without me.”

Your throat tightens. “And now?”

His lips part, but he hesitates. “Now…” His gaze drops, flickering to the phone in your hands. “Now I just want to know if you ever thought about me too.”

You inhale slowly. “I did.”

His head snaps up.

“Mat…” Your fingers tighten around the phone. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

His face crumples—like he wasn’t expecting you to say it, like he’s spent months convincing himself you had moved on completely.

And maybe you had tried. Maybe you had told yourself that he was just a chapter in your life, that you had turned the page. But standing here, seeing the desperation in his eyes, knowing that he never stopped thinking about you either?

That changes everything.

“Do you still love me?” The words are out before you can stop them.

Mat inhales sharply.

Then, quietly, without hesitation—

“Yes.”

Your breath catches.

His voice is raw, almost broken. “I never stopped.”

You swallow hard, hands shaking. “Then why did we let this happen?”

Mat exhales, stepping closer, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.

“Because I was stupid,” he admits. “Because I thought I had all the time in the world to fix it. But then you were gone, and—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I didn’t know how to get you back.”

You stare at him, your pulse pounding.

“And now?” you whisper.

Mat’s throat bobs. “Now I’m standing here, praying that I haven’t lost you for good.”

You don’t overthink it. You don’t let fear win this time.

Instead, you take a shaky breath—and hit send.

Mat’s phone vibrates in your hands, and when he looks down at the screen, his breath catches.

Because there, sitting in his messages, is the first text you’ve sent him in months.

“Come home.”

He looks up at you, eyes wide, glassy, disbelieving.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

You nod.

And then, before either of you can think twice, Mat pulls you into his arms, gripping you like he’s afraid you might disappear.

And this time, You’re not going anywhere.

[arciam]

Underrated JayVik moments/lines (15/∞)

"You had a vision?"

This entry is very loosely inspired by a post I saw about how Jayce really ought to be more bewildered by the fact that Viktor just told him he had a vision while tripping balls on his own lung-blood inside the HexGates. /paraphrased

I know on this blog we like to lovingly rip into Jayce for being a serial fumbler at supporting the casual love of his life (or no, I don't really like to do that - I love both my boys and just wish they didn't have to stay miserable until two minutes before annihilation is all), but this made me think of how there is one way in which Jayce is actually much "better" at supporting Viktor than the other way around.

See, Viktor - by virtue of being a person of uncompromising principles - is prone to the pitfall of... not being very generous with regards to other people's perceived failings or weaknesses. Or his own, for that matter.

Jayce isn't exempt from this - furthest thing from it, in fact.

Yes, Viktor does always quickly forgive (and doesn't forget) Jayce's numerous blunders. But that doesn't negate the fact that anytime Jayce ventures outside Viktor's expectations of who he is - or who he could be, ought to be -, the dissatisfaction is immediate, sharp and unfaltering. While Viktor's love for Jayce is unconditional, his approval most certainly isn't.

That's not a bad thing in itself; Viktor is (generally speaking) entitled to his disapproval, and as I said, it is merely the flipside of his strong convictions.

However, compare this to Jayce, who doesn't seem to have any set expectations whatsoever as to who Viktor should be. Or the decisions he should make. Jayce will happily go along with any twist and turn in Viktor's thought processes and actions, not only because they are fascinating to him, but because he trusts and admires Viktor implicitly.

(To my knowledge, the only time Jayce expresses discontentment with an action taken by pre-Herald Viktor is during their argument on the bridge, which is driven by immense worry and fear on Jayce's part, and he also backpedals immediately.)

Here are some examples of Jayce not beating the golden retriever allegations embracing Viktor unconditionally:

You're suggesting we should amplify the power of the thing that blew up half a building yesterday? Let's roll!

You're snapping at me for taking my new job too seriously? Yeah, guess I deserve that...

You had a vision? (While tripping balls on your lung-blood?) Tell me more!

The thing that came to you in said vision is making plants scream now? You're so cool, Vik.

You carved runes in your skin and started experimenting on yourself in ways your mentor said would make everyone hate you? "I did my best using the notes from your leg, recorded everything!"

Those experiments pulverised our only assistant? ...We can fix that.

You're leaving because affection isn't holding us together anymore..? Well, I'll stay and sleep here in case you come back, I guess...

You've lost your mind and got me in the exact position where I already saw my future corpse? Eh - I'll close my eyes and trust that you'll come to your senses in time.

The fact that - for however subject to change most of everything else about Jayce was - the love and acceptance Singed told Viktor he would have to forfeit in order to live never once wavered for even a second... it just kind of gets to me, okay?

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15

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[c4ttheart]

everything i wanted, reo mikage x gn!reader

fluff ig ? reader has hair, loosely inspired by silver spoon by erin lecount + your best american girl by mitski + 10 things i hate about you (kinda). basically reader falls asleep and reo becomes emo. not proofread :3 0.4k wc

reo mikage can’t help but feel like he hates you. even when you’re lying there, next to him, your hair in between his fingers, he can’t help but feel that bubbling feeling in his stomach, one akin to disdain.

he hates the way you laugh, loud and carefree, whenever and wherever. (he was never allowed to laugh like that.)

he hates the way you smile too, like you’ve never experienced a bad day in your life. (he doesn’t think the curves of his mouth can quirk upwards as honestly as yours can.)

he hates the way you look at him, when your pupils dilate and you stare as if he’s the only one that matters. (no one has ever looked at him like that, and he’s not quite sure what to make of it.)

he hates the way you seek for his advice, because you don’t like making decisions alone. he hates the way you rely on him. (he has always been co dependent.)

he hates the way you sleep, soundly, never afraid of nightmares crawling their way up to your brain. (he hates that you have what he lacks.)

he hates the way you kiss him, so sweetly, like you could love him to the moon and back. (he knows he cannot be loved. there is no such silly thing as unconditional love.)

he hates the way you were raised, educated in a way that would probably make his mother hurl. (he wanted to grow up eating at the table and being asked how his day was too.)

but most of all, mikage reo hates the way you don’t hate him back. you could, without even trying. but you don’t. you like being with him, you say, eyes half lidded and groggy from your nap, and it is then that mikage reo (not mikage. he’s just reo with you.) realises that he could never fully hate you.

you’re nothing but light while he is the product of the love he did not receive. maybe, in another universe, he was you but in this one, he relishes in the way your fingers scratch against his scalp, mumbling something about how he should get back to bed. in this universe, he bathes in the comfort of knowing that while the world was unkind to him, at least you were not.

sighs reo my babygirl i promise i will write something longer for him i just had to get this out of my system 💔

the longer i stare at this the more i hate it i wrote this in 10mins and im starting to realise how bad it is

[delight-angelsbliss]

ik you did a knuckles hcs alr but if you don't mind revisiting this topic I'd love to see your hc takes on Boom Knuckles x a thick girly... I feel like he'd be rly sweet. Even if he is a bit confused, he'd try his best ;-; i love that beefy bimbo sm

Precis: Boom! Knuckles with a thick female! Reader

Warnings: one mention of starving yourself but it isn't about actually doing it

Notes: Everytime I force myself to write smth through a writer's block and then see no notes, but the one who stole my prompts get more notes than me, an angel loses its wings... Also sorry for the late post and I got a bit off track when writing

Boom! Knuckles is already beefy himself, so he doesn't mind people with a little more meat on their bones. He doesn't see the issue with it at all. Knuckles thinks it's a good thing to be a bit more thick than others, it isn't a problem and shouldn't be seen as one! This meathead (in his words) can also be a feminist who believes in body positivity (unlike Clara dao) so he tries to show you just how beautiful you are in his eyes. Since boom! Knuckles is quite literally the dumbest guy you'll ever meet, he doesn't quite understand the severity and the fact that most insecurities stay as a mental state. When you first explain it (I don't think he'd understand because of how he's portrayed but wtv) he tries to show this better understanding of your predicament he has now, pointing out when you look radiant and/or put together, he loves uplifting you, it's just the kind of person he is

Knuckles knows how judgemental people can get, and he understands how you feel since he also gets many insults his way about how stupid he is. Obviously he'd defend you, you're someone he loves and truly cares for, so it only makes sense for him to defend your peace and dignity. Knuckles would always rant to his friends about how many insults are said to you just existing, he hates seeing you sad, he wants to see you confident, but these people are just wrecking that. Knuckles loves seeing you confident about your body, he also loves the way you look and he thinks you should do the same! Knuckles is a lover boy at heart and that won't ever change

He loves seeing you confident, wearing stuff you like, not letting comments get to you etc. It brings him happiness knowing you're well off with your looks. He thinks it's important to have self confidence and not be afraid of the opinions that other people may have towards you, there will always be people to resent you for no apparent reason and it's ok to care about it to an extent, but that doesn't mean you should let it rule your life like a tyrant. Since boom! Knuckle is more of a meathead, he isn't the best at comforting, but he still tries to! Trying to get advice from friends, searching on the internet, etc. He always wants you to be happy and healthy life.

Knuckles is someone who prioritizes comfort in a relationship, he wants to make sure you're fully comfortable with him. If you seem uncomfortable wearing smth tight around him that show off curves, he won't pressure you to do so, he wants you to trust him fully. I can't stress this enough. Knuckles adores it when he's able to give you compliments or talk about how cute your body rolls are, it's not only a boost to his paranoia about being bad for your confidence, it's a boost for moral and confidence. He doesn't see a reason to buy stuff like fat blocker, cut calories, ⭐ve yourself, etc. You're perfect as you are to him and you shouldn't harm your body over anything. Knuckles will always support and love you through out any decision you have

[momentomori24]

If the P: EG universe had an Afterlife Theater and Wolfgang got to watch everything that had happened after his death, from the discovery of his body to Diana’s speech after the trial, how do you think he would have reacted to it all?

Horrified, to put it lightly. Like, very lightly.

First off, the state of Wolfgang's body is nothing like how he presented himself as at. Wolfgang has always made an effort to appear elegant, professional, soft and composed, from the way he dressed to the way he conducted himself. But after his death, he's left completely unrecognisable. His tears and drool leak on to the concrete floor where he lies in an almost compromising position, expression permanently twisted in terror. His clothes are drenched and wrinkled and his hair is completely disheveled-- he would be absolutely appalled at the sight of himself, because it's everything he didn't want to be. It's everything he wouldn't have wanted his last impression on his friends to be.

To add insult to lethal injury, it'd be the most horrific evidence of the cruelty his classmates are capable of. Wolfgang spent the whole game believing in them, encouraging them, making the decision to trust them despite being scared of as much as everyone else. Even though he was nervous about someone abusing the drugs at the pharmacy, he still decided to trust the group. Even though he took the knife, he still went to the boiler room to try and meet with whoever sent him the note. But seeing his body, and the sheer brutality inflicted on it, would probably crush whatever hope he clung to that no one here would kill to escape. And I feel like the reveal of Eva being the culprit wouldn't bring him much relief either. Because her murder completely proved him right about her being dangerous and not having their best interest in mind, sure, but at what cost? What good would that do him now? Grace wanted her dead the most for what she'd done, yet even she was stunned to horrified silence after witnessing Eva's execution and I don't think Wolfgang would react any better. Because Eva was selfish, and she was egotistical, and too caught up in her own victim/superiority complex to see the error of her (and Damon's) ways and ended his life in such a cruel way as a consequence, but she was also a teenage girl who felt isolated and afraid and helpless and whose vulnerability was targeted by Tozu. I think listening to her excuses, however unjustifiable and clearly warped, wouldn't make him feel less mortified about her tragic end.

And Diana's speech-- that one is conflicting. Cuz I feel like hearing her still talk so fondly of him, of his kindness and the way he cared for them even after he attacked her would touch his heart a lot. He died thinking he was a failure, likely would still think he is a failure, and probably believes his actions and death would tarnish whatever respectable image of him they had, so hearing that from Diana could give him some semblance of comfort. On the other hand, I can also see him not agreeing with her speech because of that self-loathing. That he doesn't deserve for her to still speak of him so fondly after what he did to her, no matter how unintentional it was. Her declaration to follow in his footsteps, despite the way that ended for him, probably wouldn't make him feel great either (especially considering Diana's a lot more naive and trusting than Wolfgang was and therefore more vulnerable). And I think the miserable silence that followed afterwards and everyone's blatant lack of hope after the trial would be his first warning of the bloodshed that's inevitable now, and the fact that he's completely powerless to stop it.

Then there's Damon's speech about him. This one's interesting cuz I don't know whether or not Wolfgang would call bullshit on it. Cuz Damon was absolutely NOT being entirely genuine, and I think Wolfgang could absolutely recognise that. There's also the fact that Damon lied to his face and hid his blackmail from him, the only reason he even went down to the boiler room. Damon claims he wouldn't harm Wolfgang, but he contributed pretty heavily to the circumstances that got him killed. However, Wolfgang's a pretty empathetic guy, and despite him not having a great opinion on Damon he's still willing to banter and tease and engage with him in a friendly and patient manner during his FTEs. He's willing put their differences and Damon's more asshole-ish behaviour aside to treat him like a fellow classmate and friend when he sees that Damon is trying. So while I think his feelings on Damon would still be sorta complicated, I feel like he would still try to be appreciative and accepting of the way Damon tries to steer everyone in the right direction and the way he offers respect to his memory, even going as far as to praise him despite it definitely bruising his ego XD

I feel like something he would feel utterly guilty about is Grace. He told her that they'd go to the tournament together but ended up making up an excuse not to go, and now he never can again. She trusted him-- she trusted him the most-- and he lied to her, and now he'll never be able to explain to her why. We see the way his death impacted her, the way it deeply hurt her because of how much she cared about him, and that hurt is something he'd feel responsible for. Her grief over him are proof of the fact that Grace is clearly capable of trust and vulnerability and affection, that whatever he saw in her during their time together was genuine and that she's is just as affected as everyone else by the killing game, but seeing the way she was struggling and the vulnerable position she's left in by the end it'd be easier if she didn't care at all. She's heartbroken and grieving, and he can't even offer her comfort or reassure her that it'll be okay. I can imagine him being really distraught and muttering quiet apologies and explanations to her in that empty theatre knowing they'd never reach her.

[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 1.08 Meddling

10 Years Ago

The next morning, I was feeling kinda guilty about the discussion Paul had with Danica. I hadn't talked to him about it yet, but I hoped my interference hadn't affected their friendship.

Once I heard him stirring in his room, I decided to ask him about it.

"Hey, you're up early," Paul said. He was right; it was quite unusual for me to be awake before him, but I couldn't sleep much.

"Yeah, maybe you're rubbing off of me." Typical of me to break the tension with a joke.

"Maybe my cleanliness will rub off on you, too," Paul teased.

"Doubtful. Trust me, my parents already tried that. You'd better get used to me leaving dishes in the sink."

As lighthearted as our conversation was, we both knew we were avoiding the elephant in the room. I decided it was best to just address it.

"So, I take it you overheard my conversation with Danica," I said.

"I heard some of it," Paul admitted. "Mostly you telling her to let me live my life."

"Yeah, I guess I'm not really that much better when it comes to meddling in your business."

"No," Paul replied firmly. "You didn't say anything I didn't already know. My conversation with Danica was a long time coming. You might've given me the push, but it was bound to happen eventually."

"I'm glad to hear that. How did it go?"

"It was awkward at first, but I told her things had to change if we're going to continue our friendship. She has to trust me to make my own decisions."

"That sounds fair. How'd she take it?"

"She seemed genuinely remorseful. She acknowledged she has some anxiety issues she needs to address. I told her I need some space for a while, and she agreed to that."

"Sounds like it went as well as it could have."

"Yeah, hopefully she sticks with our agreement. I'd hate to end our friendship after all these years, but I'm prepared to maintain my boundaries."

"Wow, look at you being all mature," I smirk.

"Well, one of has to be! And I don't think it's going to be you."

"I'd argue with that, but you're right."

I walked away from the conversation feeling pretty good about everything.

What I didn't realize was Paul was trying to get over me, and hearing me defend him against Danica didn't exactly help him move on.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: [MH Wilds Erik x GN Hunter/Reader]

Erik ropes you into assisting him with his research, but there's more to this little project than meets the eye ...

Genres: Romance, fluff, humour.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

The hefty tome slammed down on the surface of the table in front of you, raising a small cloud of dust. Waving it away with one hand, you glanced up at the eager face of Erik, dedicated handler of the Astrum Unit, and offered a nervous smile.

He was wearing that look. A reason to be wary indeed.

"Erik?"

"Listen."

He stepped over the bench you were seated on, straddling it as he flipped through the book. Pale hair fell forward across his brow and he brushed it back impatiently.

"I've been thinking. We've got this handy guidebook that you hunters compile with the research commission, right?"

"Yes?"

"But we can hardly call this a complete guide when it's so lacking."

You shuffled around to face him.

"Lacking in what way?"

"Arthropods. The insect life, specifically. Think about how many hunters may be carted away in the field because they didn't think to collect bitterbug broth, or snatch up a handy vigormantle bug?"

"And what's your solution?"

He waved a hand, cutting decisively through the air.

"We make our own guide."

"We?"

He leaned forward, peering wide-eyed into your face. Long lashes grazed his cheeks, his expression expectant. 

"Of course. Who else would I ask?"

You cleared your throat and nodded.

"Me. Naturally. So ... what kind of information are you after?"

"The kind that lurks close to the earth, or on the trunks of trees. Whenever you see a new form of insect life on your hunts, I'll trouble you to make a small sketch of the creature, along with noting some of its properties. Not that I expect you to gather all of this at once."

He raised his hands in cheerful surrender.

"Only where you're able to. And make sure to note down the location of where you found it."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"Providing you with the location of ... anything."

Across from you, Alma buried her nose in her own notebook, mouth twitching suspiciously.

Erik seemed confused for a moment before realisation struck home.

"Oh ... oh. You think I'll go running off to find them, with no protection or preparation of any kind?"

He slapped at your shoulder, laughing, and you narrowed your eyes. You tapped a finger on the table.

"At least you're self-aware."

"Oh, come on. Right ... here."

He took your hand between both of his, grasp always surprisingly strong.

"I promise I will not get myself in unnecessary trouble."

"Define 'unnecessary'."

"You don't trust me at all?"

"In the pursuit of arthropods? No. No, Erik, I don't."

And so began the great insect compendium, the fruit borne of both your labour, and Erik's. Through the months that followed, you did your best to follow through on your promise to him, taking time out of each hunt to carefully jot down the insect life you found. 

Granted, you had never been the kind to appreciate such things before. Bugs, as useful as they were, were all too often shunted to the side in a hunter's mind to make way for faster and more effective means to use the environment.

They were useful, no doubt about it, but they were certainly one of the myriad things you took for granted on your many forays into the wilderness in search of much larger (and more dangerous) game.

You started to find ways to make your insect studies more interesting.

Along with the notes, diagrams (and suspicious stains that came with the territory of hunting), your weekly reports to Erik contained little doodles of your palico and amusing anecdotes of how you'd found particular species. They also contained some of your terrible puns, the ones that made Alma look at you with long-suffering pity and Gemma offer to place your head on her anvil to 'knock some proper humour into you.'

You never knew whether he actually read them. The moment you showed up with the report, he'd snatch it from your hands with a hurried 'thanks' and scuttle off to his den to pore over them. The little footnotes to your many-legged adventures may have to remain in your own memory for posterity.

At least your palico laughed at your jokes. Most of the time.

A sad state of affairs, but you'd survived worse.

It was some time before you saw any actual progress on the insect compilation. Erik impressed on you the importance of proper research and hypothesis testing, of statistical analysis and prediction of potential pathways, of peer-reviewed critique on his scientific writings by learned scholars of the research commission, before anything could be ratified as fact.

Sounded like a great deal of work, but you understood the necessity of it.

One wrong point of information, and a hunter could very well find themselves the prey, under certain circumstances. If this work was to be a hunter's resource, it had to be a reliable one.

So it was with a certain degree of anticipation that you entered Erik's research base one afternoon, having been called over by a message through your palico.

Was there finally some kind of solid outcome?

Erik was standing at the table, hands placed flat on its surface, back hunched, eyes trained on the bound collection of pages before him. He glanced up briefly before his face broke into a sunny smile of genuine pleasure.

"Ah, there you are. Come and have a look. We're finally making some headway."

Approaching the table, you saw that the bound pages were covered in his sloping hand-writing, with diagrams obviously fashioned directly from those you'd drawn, smudges of colour added here and there.

"Is it finally ready?"

"I do think so, yes! Of course, a scholar's work is never truly done. We keep etching away at the frontier,  discovering new ideas that may put our previous ones to shame."

He spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the room, your joint research on the table, you.

"But this is a start. And a great one too! Just look at all the data we've managed to compile."

You glanced at the thick sheaf of paper and gave a rueful smile. Now that the majority of the work was in, you doubted that Erik would have much further use for your time or services. You supposed you should be thankful, but you had to admit, on some level, that you liked being useful to him.

You'd long since given up scant hope that Erik would take notice of your charms. You were just so ... different.

He was compelling to you, yes. With the soft fall of his hair, the gleam in his eye when new knowledge was to be gained, the deft fingers with which he pried open the secrets of the world and the rare occasions when he displayed the part of himself that showed exactly why he had been chosen for Astrum unit, the gall, determination and sterling professionalism, it was no wonder that he'd anchored himself so firmly in your admiration.

And you, well, you were a hunter.

In spite of your many accolades, you'd never considered yourself above average when it came to personal charms. You gave yourself to your work, and it defined who you were.

Signing, you placed an elbow on the table, chin cupped in one palm.

"I suppose you never included all of those funny stories I put so much time into."

Erik's reaction was not one you were expecting. His demeanour was suddenly evasive, eyes darting to the old steel cabinet that stood in a corner.

"Ah, well. Hm. Those were entertaining, of course! But in research terms they - "

You mouth curved down at the edges, rather exaggeratedly.

"Ah. And after all that effort."

There was something definitely off about him.

"Erik, what's in that cabinet?"

"Which cabinet?"

"The one you're eyeing like a Gypceros with a shiny trinket."

"What? Nothing at all. Just an experiment I'm running. Needs to be kept closed."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something you - "

"No."

He waved your concerns aside, already bustling about the table where his research notes lay scattered like chaff. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that you were still unconvinced.

"Oh? You really want to see my Congalala dung anaerobic fermentation experiment? I could open it up for you, but the smell - "

You raised your hands in swift surrender.

"No need. Only the fresh stuff gets a ride in my slinger."

He nodded, looking rather relieved.

"Oh, good. Because it's anaerobic, you know. If I did have to open it up, the whole thing would be ruined and - "

At that moment, Olivia strode into the tent, brisk and confident as always. She gave you a cordial nod of greeting before making her way to the steel cabinet, past Erik, who was suddenly looking a trifle panicked.

"Oh! Olivia, wait, you can't just - "

She shot him a slightly puzzled look.

"I'm just getting my cup. Athos is brewing us some coffee."

"Not now! Just hold on, you - "

Supremely unconcerned, she stared right at him while casually slinging open the door of the cupboard.

"No, I can't wait. My coffee's getting cold."

The door knocked against a nearby shelf, swinging slightly on its hinges. On the inside you could see, pasted in painstakingly careful chronological order, every single humorous note you'd left for Erik since the start of the compilation, complete with palico doodles and scratched out puns.

Squinting, you could even make out the discarded ration wrapper on which you'd once sketched a stick figure illustration of Werner forgetting your name again.

Following the line of Erik's mortified gaze, Olivia raised an eyebrow and grabbed her cup before turning to you, jerking her thumb at the evidence.

"You should probably get him more insect stories. I swear, the way he hordes these things, you'd think they were actually funny."

Having delivered this crushing judgment, she strode back out of the tent, humming slightly.

Her departure left a highly awkward silence in its wake.

You fiddled with the scabbard of your dagger.

"So ... "

"It's not - "

" ..., you really think I'm ... "

" ...at all what it looks like, I - "

" ... funny?"

You both spoke at the same time, but he heard you clearly, coming to an abrupt stop. A faint flush chased over the bridge of his nose. He brushed his hair back and straightened his posture a little.

"Uh ... yes. Yes, I think you're funny."

"Even though nobody else does?"

"Um, well, humour is sort of ... subjective, isn't it?"

"And mine is ... to your taste?"

He scratched his cheek.

"You could say that, yes."

A grin spread across your face and his mouth twitched in response, curving into an irrepressible response.

"Shall we test that hypothesis further, do you think?"

He tapped at the thick stack of papers before taking a bracing breath and meeting your gaze.

"If you're willing, hunter, then I guess ... that science demands more answers."

Tagging a few who might be interested, based on previous notes: @mrs-potatocat @maxdotmp4

[animalsalvationassociation]

”Everyone has their days . . .”

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

Emma has always had a hard time expressing herself . . .

When her mom died she didn’t really have anyone to lean on from her old life, except maybe a few of her Mom’s old teammates. Safari Solutions had only just started, yet it seemed that the people who barely knew her, were better at showing up than her actual father. Despite this she found herself learning to hide her heavier emotions overtime, resulting in a few strained relationships.

(These are Oc’s I haven’t yet had the pleasure to introduce to you)

Atticus was there when she got the call, he was the one to hold her tightly when she had collapsed to the floor in a stranger’s home. Harley refused to leave her alone that night, even as young as he was he became her crutch whenever she was too tired to put herself to bed and became her right hand in everything she did. While Lani made sure that she always had a warm hug and a few good jokes if she ever needed it.

Amari never was good with emotions herself but she knew how important it was for the team to see Em smile, so she made it her job to pay attention to all of Emma’s interests. If Emma needs something Mari knows how to get it.

When Slye eventually came over from the newly disbanded Octonauts, suddenly she had someone to talk to. But sometimes silence between them was all that was needed. And of course that just leaves Bandit. It was a while before he ever joined, and even though he's still finding his place on the team Emma has become very fond of him. She sees herself in the kid, and thankfully that's a good thing . . . most of the time.

Kwazii was the only one to truly make her feel safe . . .

They had started dating about a year / year and a half after her mom died. It was a strange transition for them, seeing as most of their dates were over video. But when they were together they used their time to the fullest. They’ve been steady for a few years now and done their best to keep in touch. However over the course of the last year it’s gotten a little difficult to cope with the distance, mostly for Kwazii.

Emma has become obsessive over the details of Samara’s death. Something happened while she was away to cause her to fully believe that whoever this “Spectator” is they must’ve had some hand in her passing. With this new name floating around and the increase of criminal organizations, Emma hasn’t been as present as she should be.

Some days are filled with that same spark, but others only gentle touches are needed. Emma’s trying, Kwazii can see that. But she’s also afraid of something, whether it’s the next step . . . or something more. Perhaps even . . . someone? He knows she wants to keep him safe but sometimes that’s the most frustrating thing she could do, and that’s protecting him.

This is one of those harder days. Emma and Kwazii have always been perfect opposites yet completely the same. Most of the time Em is the one holding him, letting him be his fullest self no matter how silly it seems. She’s always had a steady head on her shoulders. But sometimes in the quietest moments, when it’s just the two of them . . . she’s the one who gets to be vulnerable. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does . . . you know she needs it.

It’s hard for Kwazii to see her like this, but sometimes all he can do is kiss her head and hold her tight.

. . .

It’s been a while since I drew them. I really needed this . . .

Honestly at this point I’ve been so in and out of my own head that I don’t even know what I’m really writing or creating anymore.

I’m not saying that the content is stopping, maybe just slowing down a little more. I have some big life decisions to take care of and when I do get to draw I really only want to do specific characters mostly Y/N and the gang, but in order to post all of these drawings I first have to give you context or none of it will make sense. So it’s a little hard to post as often despite having all of this content on hand.

If I go quiet that probably means that I’m working on something bigger which takes a lot more energy so I have to ask you to forgive me. I’m doing my best to stay on top of my tasks. I may post something tomorrow pertaining to “missions” (like adventures the Octonauts/others get to go on) at least that’s my plan because I would really like to hear from you guys.

I hope you enjoyed the Emma and Kwazii lore. Its been so long since I did anything with them, but making this post was totally worth it to me.

Anyways my doves, I hope you have a lovely morning / noon / night. I’ll see you in the next post.

[💙🍪]

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[rei-ismyname]

I'm pretty hot on @behold-the-basilisk's reading of that scene and share the frustration at zero elaboration. I think it's even more than that in Scott's eyes. Xavier switched sides, sure, but ORCHIS attacked Krakoa X months earlier and the Great Captains/X-Men/citizens didn't get to defend their home because...

- Xavier surrendered to ORCHIS on Gala night, deciding for everyone else and forcing them through the gates. 'WE COULD HAVE WON' he shouts at him while the Agnew thing/Sentinel city assault were happening (which he made him watch apparently?)

- Jean died and the rest of his family were presumed dead. Hope is still dead. Scott's back was broken and he spent SIX MONTHS being tortured with his eyes sewn shut in a total information blackout. If that was the result of a hard fought loss he'd blame himself, but Xavier surrendered, going over the head of the Captains and making a tactically awful decision. He should blame him for that. Hell, I blame him for that. He gave up the only leverage Krakoa had in that position.

- ORCHIS took over everything between the sun and Earth without opposition as a direct result of this. Including the Summers House. Mutants were herded up and killed. Scott was put on trial in front of the whole world, managed to free himself, and immediately went to the moon to see the ruins of the first home (that's actually his) he's ever had.

- Like ten minutes later he's leading the assault on sentinel city and Xavier is in his head all like 'oh ho, my boy. I did what was best. I hoped you'd understand.'

Just from that I can see how Scott would think Xavier ruined his life, because he kinda did. He and Jean weren't happy with what the QC was doing but as @behold-the-basilisk said it was definitely fixable. If it ends up being the stated reason (no expectations here) it would be a great callback to the other times Chuck has made disastrous unilateral secret decisions or overridden his/Storm's leadership out of arrogance.

So, I've been thinking a lot about that "he destroyed mine" line of Scott's in X-Factor. I'm stealing the scan from @rei-ismyname here, sorry!

So...here's the thing. It doesn't really work for me.

This is probably a surprise, since I'm one of the biggest Xavier haters that I know. If Xavier has no haters then I am dead, et cetera.

And as an incredibly biased Cyclops fan, I am always big on deconstructing their relationship and exactly what Xavier had done to him and how it plays into Scott as the man he is today.

But I really don't think that this is how Scott sees their relationship. Even at their worst.

The biggest issue, of course, is that Scott Summers is probably the ONE member of the Original Five that Xavier genuinely saved from a far worse situation that was never going to get better.

At the time that Xavier met Scott, the latter was being beaten, abused and used by a weapon by Jack Winters, a thug with telepathy and an unbreakable diamond form. Xavier got him out of there, and depending on the version that you're reading, even assisted him with KILLING Jack to save their lives.

Now, Jack was a thug. His power level is hard to judge in a few appearances, but he wasn't particularly intelligent. It's very probable that at some point, Scott would have gotten away.

But then there's Mr. Sinister. He ran the orphanage Scott escaped from, and unlike Jack, is undoubtedly a very powerful man. There's a reason that, in the timeline that Xavier dies early, Scott's working as Sinister's right hand man. (Albeit one who is eventually revealed to have his own, secretly altruistic agenda.)

If Sinister wanted Scott back, Jack Winters was NOT going to be an obstacle. And Scott, on his own, would have been easy pickings. Charles Xavier, though, has more than enough power, both psychically and materially, to protect this child.

Of course, this doesn't make him a saint. The fact that he, by his own admission, took this already abused child and decided to make him the vanguard of his child army is pretty inexcusable. Xavier only succeeds in being the best of Scott's terrible father figures because of the competition.

(I've mentioned before, but this context does make Scott's treatment of poor Laura Kinney in the 00s make perfect sense. They have, when you actually look at it, remarkably similar backstories. Xavier "helped" him by using him as a weapon for a good cause, so Scott's thinks he's doing the same thing for Laura. And it's, instead, incredibly fucked up.)

So anyway, I think Scott rightfully has a lot of things to be angry at Xavier about. Xavier used him, manipulated him, over and over again. At least as far as we can tell, he never got the poor kid any real help for any of his massive traumas.

But the line still bothers me.

Maybe it's an issue of semantics. "He destroyed mine!" seems to indicate that Scott had something good going on before Xavier got into the picture, that Xavier then ruined. As opposed to what generally tends to happen, which is that Scott's already in a terrible position that Xavier takes advantage of.

And to be honest, I'm not really sure when that would be.

AvX was fucked before Xavier got into the picture, and while killing Xavier gave everyone a reason to turn on Scott, I'm not sure they wouldn't have found some OTHER reason to turn on him anyway.

Scott's position in the Rosenberg run was pretty bleak all around. We do get to see the very end, when the X-Men finally return and have a happy reunion. But it seemed like Krakoa started right afterward, and for all its faults, Krakoa was a time when Scott got to be with his wife, and raise his son, and spend time with his brothers, daughter, and even implicitly his granddaughter.

And while Scott DID end up on trial for everything that Krakoa did, something he could reasonably be angry at the entire Council for, this was in the context of Krakoa's fall. And Xavier's betrayal came later.

Now, in Raid on Graymalkin, Scott was FURIOUS about the deaths on the ship whose name I can't remember. Now, we know that, per From the Ashes's Infinity Comic, Xavier had populated that ship with mindless clones. But we did see him telepathically force Scott to watch him do it, without any explanation, so he's pretty fucked up about it.

That makes sense to me. "He killed a lot of people!" is incorrect but makes sense. "He destroyed a lot of lives!" makes sense. "He did a lot of fucked up shit to me!" makes sense. "He destroyed mine!" really doesn't.

(It might for JEAN. While Xavier did initially help her out of that coma as a kid, everything else - getting her to join the X-Men, sending her into space, and so on...that could fit. So one possible wilder interpretation could be that Scott is channeling his wife at the moment? But I don't think she's as inclined to Summers family fisticuffs.)

I mean, it's a throwaway line in a comic that's already ending. It's perfectly feasible as just Scott being a bit incoherent, exacerbated by Xavier's weird telepathic virus effect. But I like overly dissecting things on a regular basis, so here we are.

[somegrumpynerd]

Actually it turns out I had more thoughts about that post that I forgot about lol

Would Nightmare actually give up his boys? Yes and no

If it was just a black and white situation of they're miserable, they don't wanna be here, they have somewhere better to be, then yes. He would leave them out to wherever they needed to be despite his own feelings and very quickly realise afterwards just how much he'd gotten used to the noise and company. I think he would get a little clingy with Dream about it, which I'm sure Dream would find very weird after everything but not unwelcome, he did miss his brother after all.

(If he couldn't attach himself to Dream's side for whatever reason, I think he might just sit in his castle and go insane. Or maybe he'd just spend all day at Ccino's trying really hard to project that he just likes the atmosphere and isn't lonely as hell)

But the thing is, most of them don't have somewhere better to be. Horror has his au, and Nightmare would keep up the supply of food even if Horror said he wanted to quit at this point, so he would understandably let him return home. Killer, Dust and Cross effectively don't have aus anymore though, and they tend to get into self-destructive habits when they're left to their own devices. (Obviously bringing Color and Epic into the mix to make sure Killer and Cross are taken care of eases matters, but Dust doesn't really have any friends outside their group he could go stay with - that Nightmare knows about at least).

The flipside of this is that his boys may not necessarily want to be given up. I think if Nightmare got really in his head about this he could easily end up convinced this is the right thing to do without ever asking them if it's what they want, with potentially terrible results. He's established such a pattern of always returning to find Killer when they get seperated, that if he never showed up Killer might just keep sitting there and waiting for him greyfriar's bobby style, refusing to leave because he's certain his boss is coming back.

[nicorobinphd]

stg, being an enjoyer of jane twdg is like being forced into an expert-level course on the way misogyny manifests in video game spaces.

god forbid a woman be complex or difficult or provably mischaracterized (see tags) at the end of her arc to service the culmination of a man’s storyline.

[add1ctedt0you]

[rustedleopard]

So you guys remember how after Hinawa was announced as dead, Flint was immediately tossed into jail after he (very understandably) lashes out in his grief. And then by the time he breaks out of jail (not released by a fellow Tazmillian, breaks out with a nail file), the service is already over and she's buried six feet under the dirt with no proper goodbye from her husband or even a glimpse at her or anything???

That was fucked up

[getvalentined]

Thinking about Angeal in DFFOO apparently throwing himself in front of a sword to protect Sephiroth, even knowing that he's unrepentantly evil at that point and has no goal except to hurt people and fuck with Cloud, because he just cares about him so much—

But in CC, Angeal is only upset about Genesis' alleged death because he didn't manage to kill him before Zack did. Even though he's completely aware that Genesis is doing all this in an attempt to either 1. not literally rot to death, or 2. take the company down with him in recompense for ruining all their lives from conception.

The only point that he gets genuinely upset after Genesis "dies" is when Hollander calls Gillian by name. That is more upsetting to him than the death of someone who he's known basically since birth. The only issue with his oldest childhood friend being dead is that Angeal didn't get to kill him.

But Sephiroth, openly malicious, violent, abusive—he is worth defending. He's worth protecting. He deserves every possible chance to prove that he's better than he was made, even when he's stated outright that he made his choice and doesn't intend to change.

Absolutely mindboggling that so few people seem to realize the extreme difference in how he feels about them, even when it's on full display.

(Also, I feel like it's more proof for my theory that Angeal is in love with Sephiroth too and the reason he treated Genesis the way he did is because if he wasn't good enough, then Genesis certainly wasn't, and couldn't be allowed to think otherwise. I don't think this was intentionally malicious, but I think Angeal was actually extremely immature and so self-righteous he'd rather they all be miserable than see someone he loved find support from someone he found unworthy.)