#his fear just translates into anger a lot of the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greyskyflowers · 3 months ago

Text

I feel like i haven't seen anything with a hell hound/grim Charles AU and I feel like that's not right soo..

Like, let's discuss.

There's a lot of ways this could happen and there's probably a hundred more that I haven't thought of but personally I'm really leaning towards one.

•

Prior to Charles being a living human, and then a ghost, he was hellhound. I like the idea of a curse being put on him, maybe he came looking for a witch and they weren't ready to be dragged to hell yet, and that forces him into the life of a human.

It's strong magic and it tucks all those memories and instincts behind a door way way in the back of his head. He's human when he's born and he's human up until he dies.

Edwin, however, immediately knows something is wrong when Charles dies. He doesn't know what it is, or what Charles is, but it's heavily tied to hell. He just spend decades there and he knows what it does to things. Just like the scent and touch of hell will always be smudged like dirty fingerprints on his soul, it seems it's true to Charles as well.

He does not run away from Charles though. He can't. Not after sitting with him while the other boy slowly died. A part of Edwin is ravenous for contact, for someone to talk to, for companionship. Part of him didn't make it back from hell and it left a hollow in his chest that aches with loneliness.

It also doesn't appear that Charles knows something is wrong with him.

Edwin will take his chances, honestly as long as it's not the damn spider he can make his peace with about anything.

And so, nothing is said about it.

However, the original curse eventually dissipates. At that time, all Charles' memories slam open the door in the back of his head and demand acknowledgement.

•

There's a limit to how much the human mind can handle before it just shuts down to protect itself. Which makes sense, however Charles dropping like a stone one day doesn't give Edwin much to work with besides a whole lot of fear and worry.

The mixing of memories, from before before and from his previous life, is messy. It takes awhile to translate the thoughts and memories into something that the human mind can handle.

And the Charles that opens his eyes is not the same as the one who closed them.

His nose is assaulted with scents, even more overwhelming after not being able to smell as a ghost for several years. And he smells hell. Faded but still undeniably hell.

He looks at the boy fussing over him and blanks for a minute. Edwin, his mind reminds him, ours a louder part cuts in. This one is ours. Edwin.

Frantic and as exhausted as a ghost can look, Edwin is talking but Charles isn't listening. He's taking it all in, everything slowly trickling back to him until he's himself but also more. A older and stronger part of himself has woken up.

He doesn't tell Edwin, terrified that he'll run as soon as he knows. It bothers him that he's not more upset about the being a hellhound thing. It should surely bother him more but it doesn't. It just feels like him.

It's hard to not give it away though, especially because it feels normal to Charles now. It feels like he's moving his whole body for the first time after only using parts of it. He's able to get most of it under control but things come out the more emotional he gets, especially with anger.

Canine teeth that sharpen a little too much to be human, strong and sharp nails that grow a little too long sometimes, a unhappy noise from his chest that could potentially be called a growl, a viciousness to him that's almost startling at times.

•

But... of course Edwin knows. He could have probably have made a decent guess all those years ago in the attic if he'd had to but he's confident now. He's not sure how a hellhound ended up human, let alone a ghost, but he doesn't question it too much.

Instead he plays his part too, doesn't say anything but he makes sure holy water doesn't get on Charles, always keeps an eye out to make sure he's far away from any demonic traps when a case calls for it, doesn't do anything that might potentially be a trigger for pain, and so on.

There's not a lot of resources available for this type of situation and Edwin does his best.

•

Cut to the start of the show and it makes sense that Charles likes Crystal. She's got hell on her soul a bit too, left from David, and psychics have a history with the occult.

It's easy to get caught up with her, the excitement of someone new. It has him urging Edwin to take a case in America, and not noticing small problems beginning to take root.

Somewhere along the way, something happens between him and Edwin. Usually they don't have issues and Charles wants to resolve this but he doesn't want to be the one to give in.

What's wrong with playing a little? Trying new thing and getting to know new people? They could all get along if Edwin would just relax.

Charles doesn't even get defensive when Crystal makes the occasional too vicious dig at Edwin, although the little betrayed looks he gets from Edwin make his skin itch. They both give as good as they get and he's willing to let them spit at each other until they've calmed down.

•

Charles will admit that possessing Esther was not the best choice he could have made, or even top 3, but it was the one he went with. He's never done it and probably never will again after seeing how upset Edwin was. It's fine though. They'll be fine.

It's not fine.

The Cat King, and god does Charles hate cats, puts the equivalent of a collar on Edwin. The bastard knows exactly what Charles is too, how insulting it is for him see Edwin leashed like dog.

He stays just beyond Charles' reach or close enough to Edwin that he can't do anything.

Are we playing a game his grin asks and Charles wants to rip the word no into his skin until he lets Edwin go.

•

Niko is a unexpected joy, especially for Edwin. As soon as she can see them, she asks Charles about his teeth. He doesn't pay attention to how Edwin also looks panicked at the question, just smiles at her and he's positive his teeth are human. She hums and get easily distracted by something Crystal is saying, but he makes a point to run his tongue over his teeth before he opens his mouth around her, just to make sure.

They keep getting distracted, by cases that are as interesting as they are frustrating, while trying to figure out how to get the bracelet off Edwin. The Devlin House is not his best moment, the case digging cruelly into sore spots he'd been trying very hard to forget he had. It also adds to the tension between him and Edwin.

•

Charles does not like the night nurse. Especially when she goes digging in his head, but he gets her back when she goes too far, gets too nosy and sees things she shouldn't. It's easy to give into the anger that's been gnawing at him for years, but he send her off over the the side of the cliff instead of just finishing her right there.

But she comes back, just like Esther does, and she leads that thing right back to Edwin.

•

The world narrows down to a pin prick where the wall reformed after closing behind the demon. There's a ringing in his ears that's not loud enough to cover Edwin's screams playing over and over in his ears. He turns on the night nurse growling so hard his throat burns, teeth aching from where they're clenched and bared at her. He's never been this mad. He's never been this scared.

Some type of survival instinct must kick in because she opens a door to hell for him, probably hoping he just stays down there. He doesn't remember his way around, or know where he'll even pop out at, so he snags Edwins notebook and opens it to the map he knows is there, and starts his descent.

It does come back, each step pulls up the memories and instincts until he's confident he could track Edwin by smell alone if he needed to. He ignores the woman sobbing on the stairs, she doesn't matter.

Limbo

Gluttony

Lust

Here. The dollhouse.

There's old blood on the walls of the hallways, mixed in with new, and in parts of it he can smell Edwin. Some of it old enough that it would have been from his first trip down and his skin prickles from how angry he is.

He doesn't need the lantern, his eyes have adjusted to see in the dim hallways and dark corners but he's knows it will comfort Edwin. It's a comfort to him too, even if he doesn't need it. It reminds him of when Edwin found him.

And he does find Edwin, a fluttering relief in his chest as he starts towards him and Edwin takes a step too. Only for him to be ripped away again, screaming, and Charles can already smell the fresh blood.

He doesn't really need to be quiet, not really. The demon isn't going to be eager to pick a fight with Charles once it realizes what he is, but it might get brave if it's over what is clearly it's favorite toy.

Edwin is more vulnerable then he's ever been though and Charles aches with it. Whatever Edwin wants, Charles will be completely silent if that's what he wants. Anything.

There's an ache, a burning, a balloon about ready to pop in his chest. He wants to find somewhere dark and small and safe for them. He wants to lick over the wounds he sees on Edwin and right, focus. Clearly he's starting to fall back into those instincts pretty strong.

They stop on the stairs and the only reason Charles doesn't just throw Edwin over his shoulder and continue up the stairs is because the other boy is clearly exhausted and has something he thinks must be said.

•

Love.

He loves Edwin. There's nothing he loves as much as Edwin and certainly nothing he could love more.

In love... what does that mean?

The completely human part of him thinks of his parents and nonono, that's not right. The hellhound part, that's sitting right under his skin due to being back in hell, tells him to kill something and leave it at Edwin's feet.

Neither of those seem right. However killing the spider demon for Edwin is incredibly tempting and he makes a note to revisit the thought later.

He can't say nothing to Edwin though. So he says something, the first thing that he can string into a sentence and hopes it's enough.

It seems to be because they're moving again, making it through the door just in time.

•

The cat king's bracelet is gone and Charles wants to go home. He wants to drag Edwin through the nearest mirror and hid away in their office for a week or more. He wants to look Edwin over, feel along all his joints to make sure they're okay because that's where the demon spider would have started when it ripped him apart, the joints giving way easier than trying to snap bone. Not that it didn't do that too.

He doesn't want to abandon the girls though and they stay.

•

Charles hates witches. To be fair, his last real run in with a powerful witch ended with him being reborn as a human. He really hates Esther though.

She knows, just like the cat king did, what he is.

There's runes on the floor under him, and even if he gets out of the iron collar he's still going to be stuck. The collar is a insult as much as it's a way to keep him under control.

He's stuck, Edwin screaming in the next room and he's going to tell Edwin everything after this. He wants to learn everything he can about himself so he never gets put in this situation again. He knows he could get out of this if he had more understanding and practice. The iron burns but he can burn hotter, he knows he can, and the runes can be broken, he just doesn't know how.

Niko and Crystal will have to do for now though, they slide him his bag, which slides over some of the runes and makes a break in them. He finds the lockpick quick after that and he's free and up in moments. He aches to go to Edwin, his teeth itch and he can barely think about anything else, but the girls were right. He needs to kill the snake.

Thankfully, the snake dies quickly under his rage and he's upstairs again in just minutes. EdwinEdwinEdwin runs on loop in his head.

He's not quick enough to save Niko and he can feel Edwin's heartbreak from across the room.

Crystal and Niko are Charles', not the same way Edwin is but still something close and loved. They have to move though, death is going to come for her.

Edwin is crashing. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and devastated. He can barely stay up even with help and eventually Charles just picks him up. There's no fight, he just accepts it.

He's quiet. Charles hopes he doesn't think he's back in hell... or that he never left at all.

•

The unexpected arrival of the night nurse at their office, and the threat to Edwin, has Charles finally saying fuck it. He's going to get rid of her and after that he can beg Edwin for a chance to explain.

But he doesn't get a chance to. Instead he has to make sure his teeth aren't showing too sharp as he grins at their newest agency member. She huffs at Edwin a few times and seems genuinely upset but Charles can't bring himself to be sympathetic. She keeps an eye on him until she leaves, and he lets his teeth show right when she leaves as a reminder. Smart woman.

It's just them again, like it's always been, and he wants to cry as he hugs Edwin. It feels good to hold and be held.

Until Edwin pulls back and says he knows in a way clearly meant to show that he does indeed know.

Hellhounds tend to run hot, and even though Charles is dead and can't really have a body temperature, he does tend to run hot. However, he feels frozen, even colder than the night he died.

There's no fear from Edwin though. No screaming or running, no wards to trap him or spells quickly spoken to hurt him. Just Edwin, looking at him the way he always has, and Charles realizes like a punch to the gut that the look is love.

•

Edwin doesn't mind the too sharp teeth when they bite at his lower lip and neck. He doesn't mind the sharp nails where they sometimes catch a little on the skin of his hips. He doesn't mind the way Charles can smell and his favorite smell is apparently Edwin, who can't smell and has no idea what he even smells like anymore.

Edwin doesn't mind the growls and snarls, pulling out the softer sounds Charles didn't know he was capable of making. Edwin doesn't care.

He doesn't say anything specifically but Charles also knows the part of Edwin that thinks this wasn't his last run in with hell, is relieved. There's not a single place in hell Edwin could be taken that could be hidden from a hellhound, not a place in hell that Charles wouldn't find.

🌙🌙🌙🌙

I like my characters morally grey and ready to kill for each other.

This idea punched me on the face and stole my lunch money. Someone write me fics please 🥺

#dead boy detectives #payneland #edwin paine #charles rowland #dbda #hellhound au #solving cases with greyskyflowers

260 notes · View notes

noodles-doodles01 · 3 months ago

Text

Some Gravity Falls Stuff I Found

A lot of this could already be known, but I'm having fun and its a way to keep track. All is from thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com

So for computer passwords:

Dipper- a letter from Bill (his handwriting + he calls him Pine Tree) telling dipper to stare into the sun

Mabel- Places stickers all over the lab until the screen says "lab fully Mabelized"

Stanford/Sixer- Gives a Medical report on Ford's hand taken at 18, the report censors the mention of kidnapping him for cloning

Stanley- eBay for brass knuckles

MatPat- a video of MatPat saying "hello internet, this time, you're on your own"

Cipher/Bill Cipher- Eye of Providence Wiki

Bill- Sesame Street Video

Wendy- A letter from Wendy saying that she wrote a way to ward off evil triangles at the bottom right of the book (I have two ideas for what this could be), also a 👌 drawn in the bottom right corner upside down.

Blind Eye- A seeing eye test that repeats the letters WKHBOOVHH (anagram maybe?) with a colour code at the bottom (I'll include this later in this post)

Robbie- Shows messenger messages between Robbie and Thompson. Thompson seems to be getting real tired of the bullying (He wrote out "If you keep insulting me one of these days I-" and then highlights it as if he's about to delete it, followed by Yea :(). They discuss going to a site to see Bill, and later freak out about seeing him and knowing how they both die (Thompson gets mistaken for luggage and Robbie chokes on a mini skateboard). The end is this photo with Bill in the background:

Pacifica- A letter from Pacifica herself warning against Bill, saying that she dumped old Tapestries with triangles on it off a yacht with an unnamed friend. She seems to be super uncomfy about mentioning who the friend is (Dipper maybe?). She ends the letter saying that you should follow her on Platinum Paz

Platinum Paz: Details a story of Pacifica having a nightmare about blood being on her hands and everywhere. She then has a conversation with a statue of Nathaniel NW, who asks about her anger. She tells him everything was better before the Pines' came to town, and he says he will help her if she does something for him: go to the Pines' place and grab a small snowglobe that's new (the rift). He is about to shake her hand before she stops and wakes up. She then adds Dipper's number to her phone and sleeps well. Most likely what leads to the tapestries being thrown off a yacht.

Oneeyedking: a hypnosis tape where there is morse code in the background while Bill says "you want to sell your soul to Bill Cipher" three times. I didn't do this but the morse code gives a series of letters (explained below)

If you spam Stanley: you are a taken to something called “the Wheel of Shame” and it is Bill explaining that he knows all of Stan’s shames since he was in his head. They are listed as follows: Ex Wives, Fears, Secret Shames, Unreported Crimes, Stan’s Failed Products, Lowest Moments, Darkest Thought (pin all crimes on Soos), and How Stan Beat Me (He didn’t! I’M STILL HERE SUCKER)

Now for Codes:

When you click on the book of Bill, there is a letter from Ford to Dipper warning against the book. On the last page at the bottom right corner, this code is seen (this is what I thought Wendy might mean):

I tried all the existing codexes, but they didn't work. Until I typed MASON into the compuer (Dipper's acc name), which gives a sheet where Dipper talks about learning how to make codes. Ford's writing comes in at the end, and the words CRYPTOGRAM CODEX are capitalized at the end. When that was input into the computer, a folder file was downloaded and gave me multiple codes.

I used CypherFontA and flipped the message on the Vertical Axis and reversed the message to get: PER ASPERA AD ASTRA, which means "through suffering to the stars" in Latin

There is another hidden code on the candle, visible through the lightning, and it uses the Runes codex, translating to CURSED. When input into the computer, you get this "Just Say No" campaign poster against drawing triangles (RAD), the words Cool and Parties are both randomly capitalized in this speech bubble from Nancy Reagan (not applicable to the passwords tho)

Carved into the wall (visible when lightling strikes) on the left is the Latin phrase "VALLIS CINERIS", which translates to "valley of ashes", you get this image and a creepy voice that says "why did you do it?" (a reference to bill destroying his home dimension)

The morse code spells out NAITSUAF, and when input to the computer, gives an offer to sell your soul. At the bottom is a button that asks are you ready, when you click on it, it shows a contract that has the following code on it

This is also a codex given in the previously mentioned codex file, and it is the theraprism file. It states: "YOU ARE NOW TWENTY ONE GRAMS LIGHTER"

Below the theraprism is more CipherFontA code, which I have not fully completed but seems to list out the terms of the contract. However, I noticed these rectangles near the words and am wondering if it means to take the letter closest to it or if it is a period. I am too lazy to work it all out rn so feel free to lmk what that all says :)

When you sign the contract, it says "pleasure doing business with you" and the flame on the candle is now blue. When you mess with the toggle on the computer, you get a backwards audio message in the same creepy voice as the Vallis Cineris code. When reversed, the audio says: " Someone help, the murderer’s name is Bill”

The prism that sits beside the computer has a code with the following symbols: #?&&!, which reads out as SORRY (this code is in the Book of Bill). When you input that into the computer, you get an image of college Ford and McGucket :(

That’s all I have for now! Feel free to reblog with anything else you might have found! I know of a ton more but I didn’t include them since this post would NEVER end.

#gravity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #book of bill #bill cipher #stan pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #alex hirsch #billford #the book of bill #matpat #thisisnotawebsitedotcom

206 notes · View notes

runariya · 3 months ago

Text

Y(E)ARNED (JJK) • 2

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human seamstress!female reader genre: alien!AU, S2L, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: poor handling of sadness and fear, a lot of hurt, phone call with Namjoon, talk about bonding, tears, OC is rather dramatic, a little bit of fluff, JK calls OC "princess", showdown repeats itself, angst, hurt, sadness, a lot of tears, resignation, smut, oral (f.receiving), f!ngering, big d!ck JK, unprotected s€x (pls don't do it), doggy style, minor tentacle involvement, possessiveness, minor dirty talk, "good girl", hair gripping, lmk if I forgot something pls word count: ~5.3k

a/n: part of the "Dice With Destiny" project by @thebtswritersclub and @creativepromptsforwriting | I just couldn't help but dice again 🫣 sry

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • masterlist

In the days that follow, you find yourself lost in a fog, unable to fully grasp the transformation that has occurred between you and Jungkook, no matter how many times you turn it over in your mind. It is as though the foundation of your relationship, once solid and easy, has shifted imperceptibly beneath your feet, leaving you both fumbling for a balance neither of you anticipated needing. And yet, despite this unspoken gulf now separating you, Jungkook appears determined—fiercely so—to drown the cracks with a wave of affection, as if by loving you more intensely, he could somehow compensate for the void that can never be entirely bridged, no matter how much either of you wills it so.

But the weight of it all begins to smother you, it’s a constant undercurrent, tugging at your every breath, pulling you under until the smallest things set you off without warning. You retreat, bit by bit, as your emotions swell and break uncontrollably. Tears fall from your eyes in the most inconvenient moments, anger flares up for no tangible reason, lashing out at those around you even when you know deep down they have done nothing to warrant it. It’s as if the shock of everything has numbed you to rationality, and yet the pain remains unbearable, a needle against your tender heart, piercing at both you and Jungkook alike. You can see the toll it takes on him, the hurt swimming in his gaze when he looks at you, though he tries so hard not to let it show. But what can you do? The aftermath of this storm offers no remedy, no balm, only a bitter reminder of what cannot be undone.

Your days blend into each other, and more often than not, you fall asleep hunched over your laptop in your shop, exhaustion overtaking you after hours spent desperately scouring every corner of the internet for some hope, some solution to this cruel fate. Is there truly no way for a Seraphenti to bond with someone of another species? The information you find is dishearteningly sparse, frustrating in its lack of clarity. Only six cases known. Six. Six Seraphenti who managed to bond with partners outside their own kind—yet even then, the bond wasn’t what it should normally have been, not in the way it’s supposed to be, not in the way you hoped it to be. The Seraphenti in those cases had not bonded directly with their partners; no, biology saw to that. Instead, they had bonded with themselves, two of their tentacles intertwining in an act of resigned finality, signalling that their search was over—though their true connection, the one to another soul, remained forever out of reach.

You reach out to these apex Seraphenti, hoping against hope that one of them might hold the answer you’re so desperately seeking. But five immediately pushed you towards the last one—Namjoon. He speaks to you in a voice that carries both understanding and kindness, a voice that you can’t help but find calming despite the ache coursing in your chest. “I believe it has to do with the love I have for her,” he tells you, his words careful. “And, of course, a great deal of willpower. I spoke to the others, and the common thread between us all seems to be just that—love, an unshakable love for our partners, and a strength of will that perhaps goes beyond what is typical. There’s no doubt in our hearts, none at all.”

His words, though kind, do little to soothe the ache biting away at you, the ache that grows more aggressive with each passing hour. Jungkook is as stubborn as they come, more determined than anyone you’ve ever known, and his willpower is unmatched—he’s accomplished everything he’s ever set his mind to, so how could this, of all things, be different? How could this be the one thing that eludes him? And then, the thought worms its way into your mind, an unwelcome intruder that refuses to leave: perhaps it’s not a question of willpower at all. Perhaps, despite all his love for you, it simply doesn’t reach the level required for a true bond. Perhaps it’s his love, after all, that falls short.

You don’t say this aloud, of course, though Namjoon seems to hear the unspoken despair in your long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry,” he tries gently, the regret in his voice evident even through the line. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. But if there’s a way for him to bond with you—well, with himself, really—I think you don’t need to worry so much. I can tell how deeply you love him, and love… love is never wasted.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, the words barely a whisper. They hang in the air, heavy with resignation, as though you’re thanking him more out of habit than genuine belief that he might be right.

“No worries,” he replies, his tone warm. “If you have more questions, or if you ever want to meet up with me and the others, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’re here for you.”

“All right,” you whisper, forcing back the tears that threaten to spill over your red eyes. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

As you end the call, the silence that fills the room seems louder than it should be. You rub at your eyes, your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion that clings to you like a second skin. You want so desperately for things to work with Jungkook, for this cruel twist of fate to somehow resolve itself. But the fear is there too, circling in the back of your mind. What if it doesn’t? What if, no matter how much you want it, it simply can’t be? You’re not sure you could bear to stay in this place, to remain on this planet where every street corner, every familiar face, every stray memory would only remind you of what could have been but never was.

You had thought, for a fleeting moment, that you had found your home—not just here on this planet but with Jungkook. And now, it seems as though perhaps your destiny lies elsewhere, forever moving, drifting like a leaf caught on the wind. Maybe you’re not meant to belong anywhere, not to any one place, not to any one person, but only to yourself and your sewing machine, crafting a life from fragments as you pass through it. A quiet sob escapes your lips as you rise from your chair, gathering the scraps of fabric strewn about your workspace, though this time you don’t return them to their rightful places on the shelves. Instead, you fold them carefully, placing them in the moving boxes still scattered throughout your storeroom.

The act feels final, a quiet resignation, a silent acceptance of the hurt you know can’t be undone, no matter how much you might wish it could be. Perhaps this is the only option left to you—leaving it all behind, even Jungkook, so that he might find the happiness he deserves, even if it’s not with you.

And then, just as he does every evening, you hear his footsteps, soft yet unmistakable, on the old wooden floor of your shop. The sound sends a pang through your chest, knowing he’s come to take you home, to ensure you don’t walk alone in the dark all by yourself.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you softly, his voice warm yet tinged with the sadness you wish you didn’t have to see there, hurting you even more than it already does. Knowing that you are the cause of this, that his suffering stems from you when all you want is for him to be happy.

You don’t turn to face him, your hands still busy folding the last of the fabric, your gaze fixed on the boxes before you. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, stepping closer, his hand resting gently on your back, its warmth both comforting and unbearable at once. His eyes, you know, are on the boxes.

“I’m packing,” you reply simply, your voice devoid of emotion, though the tears are already sliding silently down your cheeks.

“Why?” he whispers, and you hear the crack in his voice, the heartbreak so tangible it nearly breaks you too.

You can’t answer him, not really. All you can do is shrug, helpless against the tide of emotions threatening to pull you under, your gaze remaining fixed on the boxes that hold more than just fabric—they hold your resignation, your acceptance of what cannot be changed.

And then, without warning, Jungkook pulls you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest as if he could somehow keep you from slipping away. His voice, broken, pleads softly against your skin, repeating over and over again, “Please don’t leave me.”

But there’s nothing else you can do but nod, eyes glazing over, lost in the space just behind his shoulder, seeing nothing but the shadows of a love slipping away.

The following morning, Jungkook convinces you to take a step back, to shut the door of your shop for just a day, to close yourself off from the world and let the noise, the tension, the suffocating weight of everything that has been gnawing at your heart, dissipate into something softer. And at first, it does—there’s a glimmer of peace in his words, a balm in the simple idea of spending the day with him, untethered from all that binds you both in knots. You agree, if only because it feels like the right thing to do—because, for once, it feels like you’re choosing something together, rather than trying to unravel the tangle that fate has made of your lives.

You sleep in, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the morning light filtering lazily through the curtains as if the universe itself has decided to take a pause, allowing the two of you to rest in this fragile pocket of serenity. You bathe in each other’s presence, letting the quiet intimacy between you unfold like something sacred, something tender. For the first time in a long while, it feels right—like the two of you are simply existing, not worrying, not striving, but just being, together.

Later, you venture out for a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the air warm against your skin, leaves rustling in the trees above as you walk hand in hand. There’s a lightness to it, a sense that, perhaps, you can both breathe a little easier today. You can feel the tension within you, and within him, slowly beginning to ebb away, like a tide retreating from the shore, leaving behind only the faintest traces of its presence. The hurt that has wrapped itself so tightly around your hearts seems to loosen its grip, just a little, and you find yourself grateful for this fleeting respite from the storm that has raged between you for so long.

It's a tentative first step towards something resembling normalcy—a small, almost imperceptible shift in the air between you, a whisper of trust that just perhaps there’s a future where things might be all right again. You glance at him occasionally, his eyes softer, his smile less weighed down by the burdens of sadness and uncertainty. Even his tentacles, usually so motionless when you’re together, seem more at ease, their movements languid and unhurried, as though they’ve finally begun to acknowledge your presence in a way they hadn’t before. It’s as if they’ve come to sense you too—recognising, in some quiet way, that you’re not just passing through but are perhaps someone who will remain by Jungkook’s side for a long time yet.

The day feels effortless at first, a gentle rhythm of comfort and routine, until it comes time to venture to the grocery store. It’s a new one, not far from the park, and the unfamiliarity of it prickles at the back of your mind. There’s a moment of hesitation as you both step inside, but you push through, determined to hold onto the lightness that has graced your day so far. You and Jungkook move together through the aisles, your fingers entwined, his hand warm in yours, though you can feel the slight tension creeping back into his grip as the crowd around you thickens. The store is bustling with Seraphenti, more than you’re used to seeing, and the sight of so many of them stirs something uneasy in you, an undercurrent of anxiety that starts to gnaw at your calm. His hand begins to sweat slightly, the grip tightening, and though you don’t want to admit it, your heart begins to race just a little too.

You try to shake it off, to keep yourself grounded in the moment, reminding yourself that you can’t live in avoidance forever. You can’t hide from the world just because the risk of something going wrong exists. You tell yourself that this is just a regular day, just an ordinary task, something that you both should be able to handle together. But the unease remains, no matter how much you try to silence it, and you can sense the same tension rising in him as he steers you away from the busiest aisles, his eyes darting around in search of something—perhaps escape, perhaps reassurance.

It’s when you’re standing before the cooling section, the faint hum of the refrigeration units filling the space around you, that the nightmare you thought you’d left behind comes rushing back with terrifying clarity. You’re looking at the yoghurt options, trying to decide on something that will be addible for both you and him, when she appears—an ethereal Seraphenti, gliding through the aisle with an elegance that makes everyone elsestop in their tracks. She’s beautiful, in that otherworldly way that Seraphenti often are, and though she shares a vague resemblance to you, it’s clear she belongs to another realm entirely, one you can never hope to touch. Her presence seems to hold the entire store captive, every gaze drawn to her as she moves with effortless grace, matching Jungkook’s usual self.

She comes to a stop beside Jungkook, reaching for some yoghurt as well, and that’s when it happens.

Jungkook swallows dryly, skin paling in seconds, and the yoghurt he holds begins to tremble violently in his hands as he whispers frantic, broken “no’s” under his breath. His tentacles, which had been so calm mere moments ago, suddenly rise of their own accord again, twisting and writhing towards hers in a movement that feels almost inevitable. She notices it too, her own tentacles responding in kind, and when her eyes meet his, they soften with a hope that nearly brings you to your knees.

You stand frozen, the world tilting on its axis as your heart hammers painfully in your chest. Tears prick at your eyes, your hands trembling as you struggle to maintain even a semblance of composure. You reach out for the yoghurt in Jungkook’s hands, more out of instinct than anything, placing it back in the cooler before it slips from his grip and shatters on the floor. You don’t know what to do—how could you, when the very thing you feared most is unfolding right before your eyes—again?

You take a step back, the weight of the moment pressing down on you with a force that threatens to crush you entirely. Your mind races through the memories of all the moments you’ve shared with Jungkook—the laughter, the tenderness, the quiet pillow talks of the mornings spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You think of all the time you wasted, mired in hurt and sadness, wishing you could turn back the clock and hold onto those fleeting moments of joy. But now, standing here, watching as his tentacles dance with hers in a way that feels so natural, so effortless, you know that those moments are slipping through your fingers like sand, and never to be reclaimed.

And then, before you can retreat any further, Jungkook moves with a desperation that breaks your heart all over again. He grabs hold of you, pulling you against him, his body trembling with the force of his emotions as he wraps you in his arms. He’s crying, silently but violently, his shoulders shaking as he presses his face into your hair, his voice a broken whisper against your skin. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, the words tumbling from his lips again and again. “I never wanted this. I love you. I love you.”

You clutch at his shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as though it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. You want to tell him that you love him too, that you always have, but the words lodge in your throat, stuck behind the tears that blur your vision. You can’t bring yourself to say it—not now, not when it would only serve to twist the knife deeper into your heart. Instead, you hold onto him, letting this be your last moment together, the last time you will feel the warmth of his embrace, the last time you will ever be this close to him. You shut your eyes tightly, blocking out the sight of their tentacles intertwining, blocking out the cheers of encouragement from the crowd around you. You try to drown it all out, but then comes Jungkook’s cry—a sound so raw, so full of anguish that it shatters the air around you.

And in the sudden, shocked silence that follows, all you can hear is the sound of your own sobs, mingling with his as the two of you hold each other, broken but unwilling to let go.

It takes every ounce of strength you have to pull away from him, to step back and release your grip on his shirt. His hands fall away from you too, without hesitation, as if he knows that this is the end. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes—you don’t want to see what comes next, don’t want your last image of him to be one of him finding happiness with someone else. But before you can turn and walk away, his hand catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn, slowly, your vision still blurred with tears, but as you force yourself to look at him, what you see is not at all what you expected. Jungkook stands before you, tears still streaming down his face, his nose red from crying, but there’s a peace in his expression that you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you—warm, genuine—and though it breaks your heart to see him like this, knowing that his happiness isn’t because of you, it also heals something deep within you. Because at least he’ll be happy. Even if it’s not with you.

“I love you,” he whispers, and this time, the words hit you square in the face and chest, knocking the breath from your lungs.

You blink, confused, and glance behind him, expecting to see the female Seraphenti, her tentacles still entwined with his. But instead, you see her standing there with tears in her eyes, clapping, her tentacles floating freely around her, untouched. The crowd around you erupts into applause too, their cheers ringing in your ears, but all you can do is stare at Jungkook, your heart pounding in your chest as you force him to step sideways, looking past him, to where his own tentacles have coiled around one another—bonded, not with hers, but with themselves.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, the words escaping you in a rush of disbelief and overwhelming relief. You collapse to the floor, your hands covering your face as sobs wrack your body—tears of joy, of disbelief, of a happiness you never thought you’d feel again. Jungkook falls to his knees before you, wrapping you in his arms as the two of you cry together, holding onto each other as though you might never let go.

How you manage to finish the grocery shopping and return home with Jungkook by your side remains a mystery, one you have no desire to unravel, as if the details of that journey are irrelevant now, lost in a haze of pure unreality. What truly matters, what holds your attention with fierce power, is the longing that pulses through you, a desire that takes shape in the form of Jungkook’s body—every inch of him calling to you like a siren’s song, tempting you towards the only thing you now wish to explore fully and consciously.

You find yourself pressed against the wall that leads to his bedroom, your back arching as Jungkook’s larger frame towers against you, his hands mapping the landscape of your body with an eager hunger, his touch both desperate and tender. Your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him closer with an intensity that suggests you may never let go, as though in this moment he is your lifeline, the very air you breathe, and somehow he truly is. He lifts you with ease, carrying you as though you weigh nothing more than air, laying you down on his bed with a gentleness that makes your heart race even more. There is something in his gaze, a reverence that leaves you awestruck, your heart fluttering as you marvel at the sight of him.

With one quick movement, he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it, revealing his bare chest to you, every inch of him chiseled and breathtaking. Your heart stutters as you drink in the sight of him, the rise and fall of his chest, the faint red marks on his neck where your fingernails had scratched moments before, his lips swollen and flushed from your kisses. The sight of him undoes you entirely, a pulse of heat spreading through your core, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. And yet, despite the haze of lust that clouds your mind, it’s his tentacles that draw your gaze, now bonded with themselves in a way that makes your body react instinctively, a fresh wave of desire coursing through you at the sight, making you pussy cream and clench without restraint.

You waste no time in peeling off your clothes, your fingers trembling with impatience as you bare yourself to him, your lips bitten red in anticipation. Jungkook watches you with darkened eyes as he follows your movements, his lips parting slightly as his tongue sweeps across them, as if starving for days on end. He’s undressing now too, pulling off his remaining clothes with a slowness that only heightens the tension between you, and when he finally stands before you, fully naked, the sight of his Seraphenti dick makes your thighs press together instinctively, rubbing them together to feel a little bit of friction you desperately need. His length is enormous, veined with red and dripping steadily from the pointed head, the sheer size of it enough to make your breath catch in your throat and saliva collecting in your mouth. But even as a small thrill of apprehension flickers through you, there’s no denying the deeper, primal need that overrides everything else—you need him, desperately, more than anything.

With a strong grip on your ankles, Jungkook pulls you effortlessly towards the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the side, your weeping pussy now hovering just out of his reach. The lust in his eyes is unmistakable as he kneels before you, his gaze locked onto your slickened folds with an intensity that nearly sends orgasms through your whole body. You force yourself up, sitting just enough so that you can reach out and grab him by the hair, making sure his eyes meet yours. For a moment, the lust in his expression softens into something deeper, more profound—a look of pure devotion that melts your heart even as your arousal surges to new heights, leaving you dripping with need.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion, your heart swelling with colours you’ve never known existed. His face splits into a radiant smile, teeth flashing, his front two slightly protruding in a way that only adds to his charm. That smile revives something within you, a sense of purpose you thought you lost, a promise you make to yourself—to keep that smile on his face for as long as you live, no matter what it takes.

“I love you too. With everything I am,” he murmurs, but even as the words leave his lips, his expression shifts into something far more dangerous, a smirk that promises both pleasure and adoration. Before you can react, he pushes you gently down onto the bed, his hands guiding you to lie flat as he positions himself between your legs.

There’s no hesitation in him as he kisses your slit, his tongue soon following, dragging slowly along your folds before he begins to devour you with a fervour that leaves you gasping. His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking and licking with a need that borders on desperation, the wet sounds of his tongue mixing with the obscene squelching of his finger as it plunges into your pussy. Your mind spins, the room tilting as pleasure surges through you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as his deep groans vibrate against your sensitive flesh. His muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin, his back arching with each movement of his head, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him—this beautiful, otherworldly being who worships your body with such raw intensity.

And then more of his fingers enter you—two at first, then three, stretching you in a way that makes your eyes water with a delicious burn, your walls tightening around him as your mind begins to cloud with the promise of an impending high. His fingers scissor inside you, spreading your slickness until it coats his entire hand, glistening in the light of the room. “You taste so fucking divine,” he moans against your clit, and it’s all you need to fall over the edge, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers as you come with a force that has you gushing all over his arm.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, his voice rough and low, sending a new wave of shivers down your entire body as he continues to suck on your clit, slurping up every drop of your release before it can add to the mess on his skin. When you finally come down from your high, your vision slowly clearing, you look up to see Jungkook hovering over you, his thick cock in hand, leaking with arousal as he licks the remnants of your cum from his fingers, sucking each one clean. The sight nearly makes you cum all over again, and you feel a fresh surge of creamy wetness between your legs, your body already eager for more.

But before he can move over you, you roll onto your stomach, pushing up onto your knees, your ass high in the air as you present yourself to him, your breasts spilling onto the mattress, back arched in the way you know he loves. You know his kind bonds sexually from behind, and you want him to claim you, to make you his in every possible way. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his breath catching as he stares at your ass, transfixed by the sight of you bent over for him.

“Make me yours, Jungkook,” you keen, your voice breathy and desperate as you shift your knees to find a more comfortable position, your ass now taunting him even more. His hands are on you in an instant, strong fingers kneading the flesh of it lovingly as he positions himself behind you. He leans down, kissing a slow trail along your back, his tentacles following the path of his lips, their cool touch making goosebumps appear across your skin until he reaches your ear, his breath warm against your cheek, his hand gripping your head to make you look at him.

“Should I get a condom?” he asks, his voice strained with need.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I want to feel everything of you.”

“As you wish, princess,” he groans before pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves your pussy gasping. He positions himself at your entrance, his cock massive against your hot folds, and with a slight movement of his hips, his tip slips into you, the stretch immediate and oh so good as he pushes deeper.

The moan that escapes your throat is swallowed by his kiss, his hands caressing your sides before they settle on your hips, gripping you firmly as he begins to thrust slowly into you. He rises to his full height, towering over you as he fucks you with slow, measured strokes, each one pushing you closer to the brink of insanity. His tentacles trail up your arms, brushing over your skin in soft, teasing strokes, while his fingers dig into your hips with a possessive strength that leaves you feeling utterly claimed. “You’re made for me,” he groans, his voice low and primal. “Fuck, princess, I love your little pussy so much.”

“Jungkook,” you cry out, his name the only coherent thought left in your mind as he pounds into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he chases his release, his tentacles toying with your clit as your vision blurs with stars.

He leans over you again, his hand again gripping your hair as he forces your face to the side, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough with possession. “You hear that, princess? You’re mine.” His pace increases, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, and you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter until you’re nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

“Say it!” he demands, his voice a guttural snarl. “Fucking say it.”

“I’m yours, Jungkook!” you sob, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, your walls clenching around his cock with a force that sends him over the edge. He lets out a low, primal moan as he spills into you, his cock twitching violently as his release floods your pussy, hot and thick.

Jungkook collapses on top of you, his body trembling as he struggles to hold himself up on shaking arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But still, he peppers your shoulder with kisses, his lips soft and gentle against your skin, while his tentacles stroke your sides, legs and arms in soothing patterns. “I’ll never let you go,” he rasps between breathes.

“And I’ll never leave,” you whisper, your throat dry but your heart full.

As his tentacles come into view, glistening in your juices on the mattress beside you, you reach out to pat them gently, making both of you giggle, the sound light and full of love.

And so, after all that time, all the yarned threads of fate tugging you this way and that, pulling, twisting in their maddening ways, you find yourself where you always were meant to be. No more yearning, no more restless nights; only the serene, almost melodic understanding that every piece has fallen into place just as it was always meant to be. Always meant to be Jungkook.

1 • masterlist

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed this little two-shot👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! I physically couldn't keep up with the analogies like I did in part 1—sryyyy

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for eventual bonuses 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @dumbheadblog, @darkeneddiary, @jksusawife, @justjkkkkk, @fluttershy-vanilla, @nikidream24, @ericawantstoescape

207 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

Note

Do you see the differences between the game and the novel Twisted Wonderland? I didn't notice much until I searched on Youtube, Novel Ace was ready to apologize to Yuu ( in this case Yuuya) for insulting, Malleus isn't our little sweet dragon boy but literally choking Yuuya ?!

Yes, I do keep up with the differences between all official adaptations of TWST! This includes the light novel, which in my opinion has the most frequent and significant deviations from the game. It’s been very interesting to compare the two.

I don’t immediately comment on every change (of which there are many) I see unless specifically asked about it or I notice something pretty major. Some examples of the latter would be the like novels elaborating on Leona’s motives or Riddle’s flashback and the consequences of his actions.

I think this is facilitated by two factors: 1) the light novel format allowing for more space to expand on ideas and concepts, and 2) Yuuya is the most different Yuu we’re gotten. The game Yuu is very much a blank slate for players to project onto in order to easily immerse them in the story. Meanwhile, the manga Yuus tend to be the “helpful” types that move the story along in their own way. This is because the manga has limited space in the magazines they run in, so they need to keep things snappy and follow the main story pretty strictly. The light novel is able to stop and have the POV character reflect, doubt themselves, and refuse involvement because a medium that is inherently mostly words forces you to slow down and take in everything on the page. There’s no limit or demands of a book, so the events have much more time to “marinate”.

Personally, I really love a lot of the minor changes in the light novel. I feel they really flesh out the relationships between characters, particularly Yuuya and his friendship with Ace and Deuce. Ace actually has the guts to realize he was the one who fucked up and apologizes for being an ass. It’s so in line with the brutal honesty he dishes out it to others. Deuce stays up late into the night talking to Yuuya and makes them feel welcome because when was the last time he had done anything like this? Yuuya was always the loner back home, ignored by his classmates and feeling invisible. Now he has loyal friends who got his back and actively tell off mob students who sneer at his enrollment. Moments like this make me really care about their bond and make it more believable that they would trek halfway across Twisted Wonderland to come to Yuuya’s aid in the eventual book 4 of the novelization.

dbksbejwjwwhei The one thing that caught me off guard about your ask was the “Malleus chokes Yuuya” part, which I do not recall ever happening 😅 I went back into the light novel to cross reference just in case I had forgotten! I believe you’re referring to when Yuuya and Malleus first meet in book 2? In which case, I think there was reader misinterpretation involved.

What happens is that Malleus begins to introduce himself, then stops and says he permits Yuuya to pick a name for him. But Yuuya, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of nicknaming someone he just met, asks for Malleus’s actual name (something which game Yuu does not do). This incurs Malleus’s anger—“I have said no. Did you not hear me?” It is then that we get a few paragraphs describing how Yuuya goes “stiff”, a “briar-like tension seizes his body, making it impossible to move”, “fear [making his] heart race”, he “[forgets] to breathe” etc. (Fan translation by Yuurei!)

To me, that… doesn’t read as Malleus choking Yuuya, let alone laying a finger on him. It’s more like Yuuya is so consumed by fear that he finds himself entirely paralyzed and unable to argue back, so instead he submits and lets the subject drop. There’s no mention of Malleus “letting go” or anything either, just the fairy lights brightening again once his mood clears and he realizes Yuuya isn’t looking to defy him. It’s also important to note that, previously, the night in this scene was described as tranquil and pleasant—the emphasis is on how Malleus’s mood shifts the atmosphere and the “feeling” of the night.

So!! The “seizing” mentioned is NOT literal; a feeling could “seize” you too, coming in suddenly and with great power. This is a literary device known as personification, or giving a non-human object or action human-like qualities or skills. When used to describe the briar-like feeling, it’s also a simile, which is when you use “like” or “as” to compare two things.

… Besides, imagine Yuuya being choked out by someone during your first meeting and then no description of him freaking out?? And then still building a whole friendship based on this weird encounter??? Even though Yuuya has a history of catastrophizing and even thinks about Leona explicitly tearing his throat out just because of Leona’s powerful presence???? That just does not make sense. It also doesn’t make sense for Malleus’s character. Yes, he can lash out at people, but here it feels like he’s telegraphing his displeasure (via the atmosphere, similar to how his mood disrupts the weather) rather than resorting to a physical attack (or using magic to bind someone in place).

#twisted wonderland #twst #Malleus Draconia #Riddle Rosehearts #Leona Kingscholar #Deuce Spade #Ace Trappola #twst light novel #twisted wonderland light novel #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #Kuroki Yuua #Yuuya Kuroki #Yuu #twst manga #twisted wonderland manga

247 notes · View notes

reginnaofallwaters · 7 months ago

Text

☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL

duckin' (boothill x gn!reader)

tw: none

additional: hint of forbidden love, a lot of censored cursing tbh

a/n: i'll proofread this when i wake up lol. i just had an idea and i needed to do word vomit before i forget all of it <//3 anyway hi :)

A relationship between human and cyborg.. How did that even work?

That was the question you always heard when the people of your planet met your boyfriend.

Granted, cyborgs were, in a way, still human. Not completely for sure, but still human. They had human feelings, human desires, human minds. It just so happened they had a body of steel and metal. There was no denying, however, that cyborgs felt.. a little inhuman sometimes. Their bodies was one such example, the steel often glinting underneath the light. Often times, they had.. "unique" features that weren't present in normal humans. Some had retractable arms, extended legs, and even extended—

Let's not go there.

Point is— cyborgs weren't quite human. Their unique features would make regular humans fear them. But, hey, this was the whole damn universe, of course there'll be the occasional weirdo or two with the sheer amount of planets that littered the whole, wide galaxy (I mean, Planet Screwllum literally exists), but that's to be expected.

Anyway, where were we? Right. Unique features.

For one, your boyfriend, a cyborg named Boothill, had this fun, little tech embedded in him called the Synesthesia Beacon. It was a translator device that allowed one's thoughts and consciousness into a language the receiver could understand. In this case— you.

Oh, and it was so, so hilarious.

And it also just happened that someone tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon (Aeons knew who but a part of you thanks them for it). As thus, any fun curse words he wished to say were basically censored.

"That fudging idiot!" Boothill hissed lowly under his breath. "Can't forking believe that someone messed around with my Synesthesia Beacon. How the heck did they manage to do that anyway?"

You bit back a laugh and attempted for a gentle smile to hide your smirk. That obviously failed with the way Boothill shot you a warning glare.

"Ya sure ya weren't behind this, darlin'?" He plopped himself onto the seat next to you, cold, mechanical arms immediately wrapping around your waist like it belonged there. The thought made you a little happy. Just a little, of course. "Maybe ya did this to mess with me, hm?"

"I would never," you retorted with a chuckle. "I can't even trust myself with tinkering with elaborate machinery or whatnot, what made you think I'd have the balls to mess yours up?"

"Hah. Fair enough," he replied. "Still. Look at me. I sound like a character from those duckin' kid shows."

Boothill's face contorted, an unpleasant sneer forming on his lips at the realization that a simple 'damn' got censored too. God, that expression was hilarious.

"Pfft—" You really, really couldn't hold it back for much longer— "Duckin', huh?"

"Sweetheart, ya know I love ya, so spare me the laughin' and just don't for the love of frills— The fork?! Frills? Frills? Are you friggin kiddin' me right now? That friggin' son of a birch, I swear."

You laughed silently as he continued to rant on (Read: Attempt to cuss) with no end. You shifted in your place to face him, gently removing his grip on your waist. Once you've faced him, you gently cupped his cheeks, eyebrow raised.

Boothill stopped.

You always had that effect on him. One simple touch was all it took to rid him of all of his anger. It didn't matter whatever shit he was worrying about, the moment you touched him with a knowing glint in your eye, he immediately went quiet each time. His shoulders relaxed, obsidian eyes softening, and the deep frown on his face easing into a neutral line.

"You calmed down much more quicker this time," you hummed, thumb gently tracing his cheek. "Color me surprised."

"Duh, because it's ya, sweetheart," he murmured in reply, nuzzling further into your touch. "Don't know how ya do it, but ya always make me feel calm. I like it."

You didn't reply this time, your other hand reaching out to remove the hat atop of Boothill's head and placing it aside. Your fingers threaded itselves through his long, black and white locks, brushing aside the occasional tangle. His hair wasn't soft and perfect by any means but.. you didn't mind.

You still recalled the way your friends and family were.. rather concerned for you once they learned of your relationship with Boothill. In your planet, cyborgs, mechanical, and inorganic life forms weren't exactly welcome. It was taboo to even interact with one. Yet, you went ahead and got yourself a cyborg boyfriend anyway. Of course, they would be concerned.

Putting his whole "cyborg" origin aside, Boothill's personality and position as a Galaxy Ranger was something to.. definitely worry about. Galaxy Rangers were known for being lone travellers throughout the universe. Rarely do they travel in groups unless subduing an evil that a Ranger couldn't deal on their own. Wouldn't you be just abandoned? Be neglected? Those were the words of your loved ones.

Boothill wasn't like that in the slightest. Despite his outgoing and unrestrained personality, he made sure to never leave you alone for too long. Made you sure were happy first and foremost. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't him doing his best enough?

As you gaze into his eyes, you smiled again.

Yes. It was definitely enough.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said in turn. "Too duckin' much."

"..Pfft. Duckin'."

"I take it back. I don't love ya anymore."

"Hey!"

So, how did a relationship between a human and a cyborg work?

You don't know. It just did. To your planet, it was a taboo. To you, it felt right. It didn't matter to you one bit. In the end, Boothill being a cyborg did not matter.

And wasn't the most important thing here was love? You love him. He loves you.

That alone was enough.

#hsr x reader #hsr boothill x reader #boothill x reader #☆knights' writings

162 notes · View notes

seneon · 1 month ago

Note

Hero!Dabi x k-pop idol!reader 🙏😫

★ the hero boyfriend and idol girlfriend, dabi.

the all-knowing dabi of the top ranked pro heroes. would the world be in absolute calamity when it knows that he's in a soul-tied relationship with the all-knowing k-pop idol— you? will the world come to accept the unexpected or fear and twist the unexpected?

first time the occurrence was made public was during one of your concerts— a tour around all of southeast asia and this tour was held in the city of kuala lumpur, malaysia. not long after your group began your show, villains have wreaked havoc upon the venue. god forbid that you are just like the other citizens there, for the villains have targeted your poor soul who is of innocence.

as you were hauled into the air from the stage below, the tentacles or arm or a slime-like thing of the villain was burned off with precision. and there you see the angered face mixed in with a cocky smirk that was carved at the corner of his lips.

gravity was never your friend. so you start to fall. but thank heavens, your super awesome pro hero dabi caught you just in time before you reached the ground and was about to plunge to death.

"touya!" you exclaimed and embraced him in primal fear, feeling his arms wrapped around your form as he leaned into you and gets a swift sniff of your hair. "you okay, y/n? sorry i was late. malaysians are demanding protection everywhere the moment i stepped in."

you pulled away and nodded, adding on a little hum. "m' okay. why are you here anyways?! you're stationed in japan!"

touya, hero name dabi, shots you a mischievous smile. "just wanted to see my girl perform in her first seasia show. you're doing great by the way. absolutely gorgeous. i'd snatch you off the stage and savour in your beauty but that'd ruin your group's show."

"weirdo. thanks for saving me. love you lots, touya," you chuckled and then cameras clicked. but nothing was ever confirmed by either you nor the hero. it'd be better for everything to just be rumours than to indulge in everyone's fantasies anyways.

note. this idea is way too good to not write 😳😳

58 notes · View notes

mari-lair · 1 year ago

Text

I want to talk about Killua and Gon's separation.

There is a lot to untangle so let's start with Killua's mentality after the Chimera Ant Arc.

Killua is aware of how much Gon hurt him, and he understands that even if Gon's bond and dept with Kite is not something he can relate to, this pain isn't something he can brush off either, yet, he comclude his self-reflection by calling his dilemma a burden.

This need to be valued by Gon is what made him take things personally and feel useless during their invasion.

Regardless of his own feelings and issues, Killua blames himself for not sucking up and staying there with Gon. He has for a while... Take note of how horrified he looks after Palm tells him he is the one Gon needs the most.

Any possible joy he could have gotten from being important was far too small compared to the crushing realization 'Gon needs me and I left him alone while he was suffering.'

But Killua is hurting for himself too, at how he was put in a situation where everything felt out of his control.

That makes him angry.

When yelling at Gon about how reckless and selfish he is, Killua thinks to himself "apologies...?" as a question, a question that comes right after thinking "this time I won't forgive you'', like he is trying to find an answer to how he is feeling.

He doesn't really know what he wants from Gon, how or even where to direct his anger.

But he does know what he wants from himself.

'I will definitively make you better.'

It makes his declaration feel more like a "you will be alive to apologize. You will be here when I figure it out" the apology itself isn't nearly as important.

Because his recovery is so important, Killua doesn't allow himself to think too hard about it. He can't get emotional and make mistakes again, he needs to be level headed and get things done.

Even if the ever-present fear that he will be too late to save Gon is there.

He was too late once after all.

Killua immediately loses his calm when there are no hospital curtains or glass windows between them.

Even with Nanika by his side to give him strength, he is tense from the moment he reaches for Gon's hand. It breaks him to witness exactly how bad Gon state has become.

Translations vary but the sense of urgency is prevalent, even with his mission accomplished, his wish a touch away, he shows zero relief, he acts like he is too late again, desperate to help him.

There is no 'Gon is invincible. He heals super fast from everything.' mentality anymore, and even the hope he has been clinging to that 'Nanika is amazing, she can heal Gon' gets destroyed.

Is just him and the brutal reminder Gon can fall.

So when Gon gets up, against all odds, Killua is happy. The joy is stronger than his grief.

He downplays his worry, and keeps it casual, when he tells Gon to watch out for himself, but he is genuinely happy when Gon thanks him.

That's what I believe Killua really wanted from the start, not an apology but a thank you. It always hit him hard when Gon thanks him, be it when Killua is happy, or at his lowest:

Killua just didn't believe he deserved a "thank you", not after being put far too many responsibilities on himself and drowning in failures. But now, things are okay.

For as difficult as Killua's life is, he does like to focus on the good, so when he talks to Gon, who is alive and no longer blinded by grief, while being able to hold on to his little sister's hand, who is happy and free, he has no regrets, it was no problem. He would do it again and again and again for them, and Gon showing appreciation of what he has done is the cherry on top.

Killua doesn't really care about the apology anymore, because he already understands Gon didn't want to hurt him, he has been by Gon's side for years, and he knows better than anyone that Gon is a kind boy who loves his friends very much, and is far too harsh on himself.

So Killua acknowledges his pain but he keeps it light-hearted and brief. He doesn't want his best friend to focus on this, as Gon is prone to, so after Gon gets on his knees to apologize, Killua thanks him.

Which is something Killua rarely does, most of his thank yous are either casual or in monologues Gon isn't privy to. But he want to focus on the good he gained, on how his adventures and feelings for Gon are what let him take the needle out and go to Alluka's rescue instead of how he learned to fear loss.

He believes Gon is just as important to Alluka's rescue as Alluka was to his recovery. And he acknowledged Gon's issues but still value him.

So he does what he has always appreciated, and lets Gon know how valuable he is. Hurt or not, he always wants what's best for Gon. To cheer him up, to put his mind at ease.

And now that things have gotten more peaceful, they both decided that's what they focus on, on how valuable the other is. How much they enjoy each other's company and how hard it is to go their separate ways.

Even what Ging says about "What I was I looking for isn't what I ended up valuing" parallels their arrangement.

This is the end of their journey to travel the world in search of Ging, and the Chimera Ant disaster will definitively mark them, but they are still friends, and proud of it!

Which brings me to Killua's "you're number two" claim.

Personally, I do not believe he is being literal or trying to measure their value when he claims his sister is No.1. He just doesn't want to put too much pressure on Gon when he can tell Gon is still beating himself over how he treated Killua.

Palms's "You're the most important person to Gon" speech broke Killua, it crushed him with pressure, and it wasn't even Gon himself saying. Imagine how bad Gon would feel if Killua said "You're my most important person" or showed in any way how highly he holds Gon after the way Gon had snapped at him.

Add in how Gon already feels indebted to Killua, who had witnessed Gon destroy himself over his debt to Kite, and how hard it is for Gon to let Killua go... I can understand why Killua would want to downplay the situation as much as possible. Make it easier on Gon.

I don't want to downplay Alluka's importance to Killua though, she is the main reason they separate, the one that gives Killua confidence to turn his back on Gon despite how sad they look about diverging their paths, and makes Killua keep going.

Killua had nothing he wanted for a while. Now he wants to take Alluka and Nanika to travel the world, and while Gon is amazing and fun, he is also deeply intertwined with danger.

And Killua already has a lot of danger on his hands.

He needs a break from danger. From stress.

He can't protect Alluka and Nanika, while keeping an eye on Gon in their usual adventures. And he can't let himself go wild with Illumi on the hunt.

His priority is to keep Alluka safe and happy. Show her a taste of freedom and all the fun he knows exists out there.

And Killua is emotionally smart too, for as much as he is attached to Gon, I think he does realize they need time away. They will see each other again, they promised.

but right now they are too dependent.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecs #character analysis #killugon #this post is a bit all over the place but once i connected (or at least i think i did) one accidental dot it drove me insane #long post #and that was me trying to keep it short yugyugyu help

397 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months ago

Note

Maybe brennan x witch reader that help eachother all the time but at some point she gets really hurt and brennan just goes ballistic trying to get to her on time and the fluff afterwards of him being a mother hen

Don’t die

When Brennan had first come to the Riorson house he never imagined that the first thing he would be greeted by would be a hurdle of females. All visibly drained. All way paler. The silver lining their eyes. That was the first of many times you had hissed at him. Back then he had misjudged the situation. His understanding of what was going on was murky. Brennan had little to no knowledge of what else was used to power the wards. Too many scrolls were in languages he couldn’t read.

That day he had simply attempted to pick up a little girl that had been crawling across the floor. Brennan had barely bent over when a sharp knife dug against his neck. “Move and I will cut you open”, that was when he first laid eyes on you. You were younger than him. At least that’s how it looked. But even if your hand wasn’t shaky Brennon saw the fear in your eyes. If not that then the scars all across your body did.

That was also the day when a new side of anger was born. They were using witches as power outlets. Dragging innocent children to the borders. But Brennan was going to change that.

“So what does this say?”, Brennan leaned over your shoulder, pointing at the paragraph he had been struggling to translate. You were in his room. The hour was edging towards the early morning but you both couldn’t seem to put the work aside. “I’m not one hundred percent sure”, you admitted, frowning softly. As yet another yawn threatened to slip past your lips. “But it looks like a sacrifice ritual”, you tapped your finger against the illustration above, “Basically the best way to use us as outlets”. Brennon shook his head, “Then we do everything against that and make sure that everyone is prepared to see signs of someone who might try to…”, “We could help”, you cut him off. For some months now that the revolution had kicked off in full swing the question of witchcraft had been raised in almost all meetings. For the most part, witches could uphold simple powers. But where they could shine if they gave away their powers to others.

“No, not like that”, Brennan protested as he stepped away from you. “This would give us the upper hand”, you pushed on further. He had never asked anything of your kind. But his protectiveness had harmed the progress of the revolution. “I will not allow that”, his sharp features deepened even more. The dimples on his cheeks wiped off with no trace. “But I am offering. A lot of us are”, you stated, turning to face him now. “Most riders don’t know how to safely use your power”, he pointed out in a huff. You knew that he understood what the offer implied. You knew the outcomes too. You crooked your head to the side watching the male in front of you.

“Don’t”, Brennan pleaded softly, his tired eyes meeting yours. “We will be fine”, you stepped closer to him, “I will be fine”. Your fingers softly brushed across his jaw. One that he flexed out of reflex before his lips softly touched your neck. You two hadn’t given time to discuss the situation brewing between you two. At first, it was a mutually needed distance. But now with you spending almost all nights in his bed and all the little touches. It had to be more. It felt like more. “I can’t…”, Brennon breathed out, his fingers digging into your hips just a thing stronger. “We already lost so much”, his desperate eyes met yours. But you didn’t let his fears reflect in your eyes, “You won’t lose me”, even if promises like that were so wrong to make in battles like that.

Brennon had triple-checked your daggers, flying leathers. Even the pins in your hair had been fidgeted with. You had caught his hand when he moved to recheck the straps of your other weapons, “I got it, Lieutenant Colonel”, you nudged his shoulder, hoping to suffocate his nerves for him. But he only frowned, “You never call me that, don’t call me that”, he grumbled, leaning his forehead against yours. “You are sleeping in my bed tonight”, he muttered after a couple of minutes of silence. “Is that a suggestion?”, you chuckled, letting your arms sneak across his waist. “No, an order and you know how much I love when you follow my orders”, he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Kinky”, you muttered as you two watched the horizon, waiting for the signal you all dreaded most.

Through it all. All you could think of was Brennan. And rule number one was to not get distracted but you worried. Worried for all of them. The cadets that for the most part were stepping into their doom. You had just helped to carry the injured flyer to the healers when your eyes landed on Violet and the venin that now surrounded her. It took you a second to make up your mind as you darted through the field. Summoning illusions as you ran in hopes of winning more time for her.

“Use me and get to Tairn”, you ordered her, as you threw one of the daggers, her confused eyes watching you. “You shouldn’t be here”, she stared but you quickly cut her off, “You’ll be able to aim right”, you growled out as you watched another cloud of wyvern approaching. “Now, Violet”, you hissed out, right as her hand reached for you and you fully lowered your shields, allowing her to dip her mental shields into yours.

It all was going right as you hoped it was until you eyes caught a glimpse of venin. “Traitor”, it hissed, “trading our secrets and for what?”. You turned, throwing another dagger before launching yourself off the closet building as you ran in hopes of reaching a dragon that you could use as leverage. You needed to get off the ground. See it all from the air. But your jumps had gotten sloppier, and with your powers running through Violet too, you knew your time was running out quickly.

You leaped off yet another rooftop. Eyes falling on orange scales. Marbh. It had to be him. Meaning that Brennan was here you only needed to get his attention but you needed to get rid of the venin that was chasing you first. “Pathetic little witch”, the venin snickered as you dodged another blow. You only had one dagger left. If you threw it you would be left defenseless. You looked back up, whistling in the tune you and Brennan used to identify each other with while raiding. But it was Marbh’s eyes you met first. And his claw was close enough so if you just jumped now. You leaped. A pained roar sliced the chaos as Marbh quickly changed his position but you saw something in the dragon’s eyes. Something that meant…

And then you felt it, a sharp claw digging into your flesh. Wyvern. Sadistic laugh. And the claw that was meters away from crushing your body. You managed to twist yourself, plunging the last dagger that you had right at the center of the claw welcoming the felling off free fall. Until your eyes caught Brennon’s mortified ones. His lips were moving but you no longer could make out what he was saying.

It felt as if someone had ripped Brennon’s heart out of his chest as he watched your body fall. It’s like every part of him froze for a moment. And it’s Marbh who’s working on his own accord as he plunges reaching out his claw to catch your limp body. Everything else feels equally as if it’s not him. Not him getting off his dragon. Not him watching Marbh slowly letting your blood-covered body hit the grass.

“No”, and it’s share panic. Blinding panic. Not real. Brennan kept telling himself. If he blinked. If he could only make himself blink it would all go away. You would be here. His knees hit the ground as he reached for you. Pulling your body to the side so he could examine the cut. “Yn”, he calls out, eyes scanning your face. “Come on, love, open your eyes for me”, slowly he mends the fresh cut, watching the flesh come together but your limp form remained.

“Come on”, he pulled you closer to him. Not safe, Marbh growled assessing the surroundings, flashing his teeth at anyone who got too close. “Please”, Brennan brushed some of the hair away from your forehead, “You can’t die. Don’t die”. His eyes were burning with tears he refused to weep just yet. He couldn’t. Never in his life had he had anyone he loved so much. You had become part of him. Letting go wasn’t an option. Marbh let out a pained roar too no doubt feeling the same emotion his ridder was feeling. Brennan felt his mending powers flailing. He was exhausted himself and with him not knowing what exactly he was healing and what other damage had been done most of it was wasted.

He didn’t care that he was covered in blood and grime as he pressed you closer to his chest. Swaying from side to side. Trying to suppress his sobs. And then he felt a light twitch. The feeling of fingers brushing against his side. Brennan pulled back, wide eyes looking down at you. Your own eyes were barely open but he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest. “Oh, thank you, thank you”, his eyes darted up to the sky before his attention was fully back on you. “Brenn…”, you muttered, bloody lips cracking as you spoke. “I’ve got you, you will be okay”, he reassured you, “I will never let anything happen to you, darling”.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #brennan sorrengail x oc #brennan sorrengail imagine #brennan sorrengail x you #brennan sorrengail fourth wing #brennan fourth wing #brennan sorrengail iron flame #iron flame x reader #fourth wing x reader

201 notes · View notes

revelisms · 4 months ago

Text

New WIP has me deep in the emotional whumpzone (per usual)—so even more Ghost headcanons: Angst Edition. Because why not ❤️‍🩹

CW: Family dysfunction, parentification, negative self-image, anger issues, relationship issues, grief. Also some heartwarming-ish moments? Sorta kinda? (;-;)b

Primo

Faced the harshest transition within the church as the first successor to the new Order, having to meet both the old clergy's expectations as well as the standards Nihil, as part of his bargaining, had been pressured to achieve.

Also saw first-hand much of the darker underbelly of the church (e.g., murders caused by the ghouls, corruption in the clergy, etc.), which he tried to shield the younger ones from witnessing. It's not all champagne and caviar in these halls—especially at the top.

Has had few consistent lovers in his life, but has loved them all deeply. Getting beneath his surface-level affections can be challenging, though. He has a kind, nurturing presence with most everyone, especially those he likes to have around—but as a partner, he can be protective to the point of patronizing. Very cautious, at times condescending, and ultimately fearful of ever losing someone again. Loves like a dragon guarding a horde of gold, and can get just as ugly for it.

Didn't want to have to step into the role of essentially father and mother for the boys, but he felt he had to. There's a hardness to him, for that, and a sense of young adulthood that he's lost; he feels ancient in a way that's difficult to explain, and always has. There's very little of him that feels youthful anymore.

His love for gardening runs deeper than most take it for. He's always been interested in healing magick and herbal remedies, and it's an older field of study he gravitated to in his earlier days. He's been on the cusp of too many tragedies to turn a blind eye to it, now, and so this is his way of doing something. He sees himself as too old, too frail, and frankly too booksmart to do so, otherwise; it's an underlying resentment of his, after watching too many ritual acts go wrong.

Having the Sight of clairsentience (aka: seeing into the minds of living things) has made him a bit of a chronic skeptic. He has lost his trust in most things; the few that he keeps to are the realms of possibility and self-determination: that what he sees in one moment does not have to be Truth, overall. But it hurts, being cursed to know what others truly think and would wish to do, even if they won't voice it. He tries to stay kind, despite that.

Secondo

He was always an angry child, and wrestles worse with his frustrations as an adult. His spite and his rage have fueled him; in many ways, Wrath has been the one constant of his life. But it has broken countless relationships in the process, and created a reputation that most siblings fear.

He's a very bitter, armored man—and, as a result, can be a bit of an ass—but he's aware of it. (Unlike someone else. Grumble grumble.)

Despite their theoretical closeness in age (I HC a bigger gap here), and quite a few shared emotional traits, he and Terzo couldn't be more polar opposite. Since Secondo was unwantedly looped into Primo's surrogate parental role once he got older, he took the brunt of this with Terzo, who was hell to manage. He has a lot of regrets over this, and puts silent blame on himself (in fairness, more than he should) for Terzo not getting the support or affection he should have when he was younger. Their relationship has always been strained from this.

Daddy issues out the wazoo—and it's translated into most relationships (work or otherwise) he's had with authority figures, since. He's a beast to deal with, when it comes to the clergy; most members of the cloth will toss him straight to Nihil before they have to even think of handling him (which is disastrous, in itself; he's inherited much of Sister's traits when it comes to bickering Nihil into place, and their All-Father can't stand it...but c'est la vie).

In short: Hell forbid you share a table with these two. Copia and Nihil's mess is tame, comparatively.

Genuinely one big tender-hearted teddy bear beneath it all, but few are given the privilege to see it. He's a very romantic man stuck in a complacent chain of disposability, and he's made his peace with that. He's certainly not an easy person to love; being in a relationship with him is a constant yo-yo of moods that can explode at the drop of a pen—but with the right balance, with someone who can ground him, he could rival the poets of old with his lavishness. Roses and wine and sweets for days. (And kisses. Satan, don't forget those.)

Having the Sight of retrospection (aka: seeing the the past) has been both the root of his fascinations with history and, ironically, his complete disgust of those who claim to study it (...which he is, but anyway). It's also led to some hard wounds due to Primo trying to safeguard him from the darker nature of the church as a child vs. the realities he was forced to bear witness to once gifted the Sight. It broke a lot of his security in the doctrines, and his trust in Primo. As a result, he views their eldest, above all, as a liar and has learned to take the guidance he shares with a grain of salt.

Terzo

Was a very rambunctious, escapist-driven child, and it has led into him being a flippant, snide, and at times callously individualistic adult. However, this battles with his desire to be valued by others—most of all, to help someone feel better in themselves. He's incredibly kind and soothing, when he wants to be.

The mix of priorities can be puzzling. As much as he can be selfish in one moment, he would roll out of bed at 2am to conduct a blessing for an insomnia-riddled sibling of sin, without question (which is...other WIP shh). This can make it hard to know where one stands with him, and whether any special treatment they've seemingly been given is all that special, after all.

Can be extremely petty for the spite of it, often through comments that cut to the bone, but almost as frequently in performances he knows will pull eyes. Nihil and Sister are often the joint instigators of this, and it tends to trickle down, unfairly, into his treatment of Copia—though he knows it shouldn't. He's not proud of this, and attempts to curb it when he can, but in many ways his temper is a mirror to Secondo's own; once something sets him off, he can become fiercely cold and hurtful. Getting on his bad side is a vile place to be.

Has, for lack of a better term, a tightly controlled persona: almost impeccably funny, sly, and suave, especially once he's ascended into the papacy (and been put on a tightwire of clerical demands). Few have seen the quiet, withdrawn, fidgety side of him. Few, he doubts, would want to.

At his most fundamental, he is heavily driven by a need to feel seen, accepted and loved—but he's repeatedly sabotaged it once it's been given. The siblings dubbed him a "loose kite" well before his Cardinal days: someone without a tether bound to land wherever (and with whomever) he wants. Most are aware that he's an egregious flirt, and little else, and have learned to never take his affections too seriously—and, to an extent, that's exactly what he wants. On the other hand, he's shot himself in the foot with this: a self-fulfilled prophecy of nothing ever panning out (and one he fears ever panning out at all, as much as he wants it).

Having the Sight of premonition (aka: seeing the future) has been dual-edged. He's seen the beauty of his own future, and of select others, countless paths over—and, just as wickedly, their demise. Countess potentials, countless lovers, countless beings, countless deaths. It has never been a source of peace, for him; he can only know with certainty what may occur once he has taken the first step onto a bounded path. Starting the route to his Papacy was his only confirmation that he was doomed to fail—but, for years, he knew little else.

The biggest splint in his Path, always, was Omega. Saints and demons, it was always Omega.

Copia

You could fill a jar with the things this man would nitpick about himself—and still, he would nitpick more—but he is nothing if not a source of reassurance for any who have known him: both in his bumbling Cardinal days, and in the slow-sewn confidence he's found in his senior roles. One of the sweetest, if sweetly awkward, souls one could meet—but give him any passing compliment, and he'll scrape it under his heel.

For all he craves true praise, hungers for it, he is so hesitant to believe it. He has never felt good enough in his own skin. Not for Primo's success, not for Secondo's intelligence, not for Terzo's confidence. Certainly not for the clergy's standards. And Sister—Mother—well. He's never quite known how to untangle the dreams she poured into him from his own.

Was effectively the black sheep of the family for much of his youth, despite receiving more affection from Sister—which, in retrospect, only added to the resentments. He had always been seen as an other, most harshly by Terzo, who felt that his ability to even have a relationship with his own mother was squashed by Copia devouring her attentions.

Losing them all made it easier, in some ways. It had to be done. (Hell, he misses them. He misses them so much.)

Loving him can be an overwhelming experience. As a partner, he goes overboard on the regular (often, humorously, with disastrous results). It's challenging sometimes for him to realize he doesn't need to perform, in this; that he can just be. He hadn't taken the best cues from Terzo, in that—but who else could he have looked up to, but Terzo: who was beautiful, and desired, and bright as a star?

There's a cruel irony in that. Terzo had never quite opened up to his little brother—but if he would have, Copia would have only known how much they had in common: how much of their black-sheeped image-loathed performance-pillared suffering they'd shared. (But the past is the past, now. Copia can't think on that, too long.)

Having a belatedly repaired relationship with Nihil and Sister has been complicated for him. There's an unspoken attempt at correction, for their (seemingly) final and "true" heir—attempting to be a better father, a better mother, to be a family. He'd never quite had that, in all those years before. A part of him loathes that only now he's being given it.

The Sight of clairvoyance (aka: seeing the Bridge between realms) is strange sort of blessing, in this. They're all with him, always. Through life and death, through all of it. And perhaps that's what he'd always been meant to be—a homestead for those lost souls to gather; to live free again, if for a moment. He finds comfort in that, much as he can.

74 notes · View notes

twoa-plus · 2 months ago

Text

dissecting stanford pines and finding organs that don’t exist but like in a metaphorical way

that’s it that’s the title i’m going with. this is a long one folks o7

most of this isn’t sourced or canon at all it’s just personal interpretation/headcanon/whatever else u wanna call it, but!! since more people are seeing my deranged gravity falls ramblings now i figure i should probably give some perspective as to why i like/defend ford as much as i do

(in my other gf posts i do try to stick to canon to back up whatever point i’m making - this is just about my personal opinion of ford as a character, and should be able to be thrown out in regards to my other posts)

so for some background/setup/whatever (it’s important i promise bear with me), different people have different instinctual responses to anxiety/stress. i come from a family (genetics are fun) where the default response is to start (metaphorically ofc) biting and hissing like a cornered animal. this doesn’t necessarily mean there’s any actual hatred or malice or anything towards the people that end up getting scratched - they might just be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they might’ve done something super minor and insignificant that added on to a preexisting pile of stress, etc etc

i cannot stress enough that i am not saying this is ok. you dont need me to tell you that hurting people who don’t deserve it is a bad thing, lol. what i am saying though is that sometimes people can kind of suck for reasons other than just genuinely wanting everyone around them to be miserable

this is the last “background” part i swear BUT another thing thats less genetic and more just me being weird is that i’m the type of person where like. any minor environmental change can really stress me out lol. like even just reorganizing my desk can be pretty emotionally taxing

SO. finally back on topic. stanford pines. i see a lot of the behavior/patterns i just described in him. like i’ve spent my entire life around people like this, and while i understand why a lot of people see him as just some asshole, i can’t help but see him as a guy who’s just kinda going through it lol

just talking about the more recent events as of the series, he’s just spent 30 years god knows where doing and seeing god knows what, he has an abusive ex who wants to murder him and his entire family (plus the whole dimension, really), and in the three decades he’s been gone the entire world - including his own house - has changed and left him behind. add onto that that he went missing in 1982, way before we had all of the emotional/mental health resources we have now, we all saw what the stans’ childhood was like, and that ford is terrible with people - including, imo, himself. if there’s anybody out there who would have Feelings and not understand what they are or where they’re coming from or what to do about them, it’s this guy

this entire setup is the perfect circumstance for fear and anxiety and stress and uncertainty to all get translated into anger. a really big example of this, to me, is how he talks about dipper in journal 3. i’ve talked about this before somewhere so i’ll try to summarize as fast as i can lol

reading his initial entry about dipper would make u think he like. hates this kid lol. but i really don’t think he ever did - he was really excited to meet the kids in the show and already seemed to care about them just by virtue of existing, and his opinion on dipper in journal 3 seems to do a complete 180 pretty quickly which ,,, doesn’t really fit ford as a character. like i love the man but that guy can hold a GRUDGE

here’s how it reads to me:

ford gets back to his home dimension after 30 years and everything is different

he’s subconsciously kind of struggling with the fact that he doesn’t really have a “home” anymore - the sense of familiarity and comfort that would normally come with the word is gone. (i specify that it’s subconscious because, like i said earlier, i do not get the vibe that he’s particularly aware of his own emotions)

he finds out that journal 3 - something he made with his own two hands and considers part of his life’s work - has also changed in the decades he’s been gone. this adds to the feeling of unfamiliarity with the world around him

it’s easier to blame that “final straw” and say that he’s just upset about his work being tampered with rather than address the actual root of the problem, so that’s exactly what he does. this still doesn’t mean that there’s any genuine hatred towards dipper. anger in the moment, yeah, but not hatred

again, this is entirely personal interpretation, and i completely understand if u don’t see it like this!! this is just a pattern of thoughts/behavior that i’m very familiar with, so it’s easy for me to apply it to situations like this even if it’s not really part of the canon

i also think there’s a big problem in this fandom with just ,, not seeing ford as a Person with Emotions? idk how to explain it but it feels like people expect him to always know exactly what to do in every situation just bc he’s old and academically smart. like whenever another character does something objectively bad it’s “well there were extenuating circumstances,” (which is usually true and i agree !!) but ford never really seems to get that treatment. if he does something bad it’s just because he sucks

a big example of this i think is the fight between him and stan (y’know the “you ruined my life”/“you ruined your own life”). you cannot look me dead in the eyes and, in full seriousness, with the context of everything ford was going through with bill at the time, say that he was fully mentally/emotionally stable during that conversation. “oh so you’re blaming stan-“ NO!!! stan was also going through it!!! that’s the entire point - they’re both people with their own lives and emotions and everything else that comes with that, they had very human reactions to their respective situations, and they both ended up hurt!! hopefully i’m explaining this right but i just don’t like it when people pin everything on ford, like there was a lot going on and at the end of the day he’s just a human

wasn’t really sure how to work this in so i’ll just put it here - i don’t think ford ever truly hated stan, either. familial bonds are complicated, and there can be a whole lot of anger towards someone without true hatred being present. i briefly mentioned the stans’ childhood sucking earlier, and i don’t just mean stanley - it’s easier to pinpoint him as a victim of abuse/neglect, but that doesn’t mean ford had it great either. their parents (specifically filbrick, but caryn didn’t exactly do a fantastic job with them either) expected nothing of stan and the world of ford, both of which would weigh heavily on any child. plus, ford being the favorite doesn’t mean all of his emotional needs were met - filbrick seeing him as an opportunity to make money doesn’t mean he was suddenly an emotionally present and caring father towards him. WCT wasn’t just an opportunity for ford to go be a famous scientist or whatever - it was a chance for his father to love him, something both of the stans desperately wanted. (WCT was also on the opposite side of the country from where they lived but i’m sure that’s completely unrelated !!!)

do i think stan deserved anything that happened to him after the science fair incident? no, absolutely not, he was a child. do i think it was right of ford to just stand there as his brother got thrown out? no, absolutely not - but he was a child too. as for them not speaking for a decade after that, like i mentioned earlier ford can hold a grudge like no other. (this doesn’t just apply to stan, either, ford dedicated half of his life to trying to kill his ex lmao.) i think ford’s ability to hold on to anger like that is actually a pretty major part of/flaw in his personality, but again, anger - even the strongest, most long-lived of it - is not synonymous with hatred. stan, who ford has always gone to for help when he truly needed it, it not what ford’s hatred looks like. bill, who ford actively wants to die, is

anyways!! i never know how to close these things lol. ig in summary i just see ford’s behavior (in the show at least) as more of a sign of internal struggle rather than like ,, genuinely hating the people around him and wanting their lives to suck. did/does he have an ego problem? absolutely. is he incapable of love and human connection? no. is he immune to manipulation/abuse/neglect/etc and everything that comes with that? also no

he’s an interdimensional criminal why can’t he go to the theraprism. i think he should

#also if u look at the WCT incident and him being mad at dipper for writing in the journal as parallel situations #i think it actually does show changes/development in ford as a person #sure WCT would’ve like changed the trajectory of his life or whatever and the journal was ultimately Not That Serious #but the fact that he was so quick to let go of that anger - something he’s never really been shown to do in the past -#does make it seem like he’s changed in the last 30 years #like i see a lot of people say he hasn’t grown at all since (insert pre-series time period)#but i don’t think that’s true. like u can’t tell me 30-smth year old ford would be chilling in his basement with a 12 year old playing dd&md #like he HAS mellowed out with age. he’s also just weird and has a naturally kind of intense personality #anyways normal tag time my brain is melting i’ve been writing for so long lmao #gravity falls #stanford pines #ford pines #stanford gravity falls #ford gravity falls #gravity falls ford #gravity falls stanford #twoa.txt

26 notes · View notes

closetsof-backlogged-dreams · 7 months ago

Note

what would’ve happened if azula was the one who had an iroh and zuko stayed back? (their characters and personalities would be the exact same as in canon, but their roles would be reversed)

love u<33

TAKING A BREAK FROM STUDYING = azula breakdown time <333

im ngl, we're prob gonna be looking at a longer post today bc this is a lot to breakdown😭 so buckle up chickies we're going IN

THINGS WE HAVE TO COVER IN THIS ANALYSIS:

how Zuko leaving did affect Azula

how being forced to leave did affect Zuko

how being forced to leave would effect Azula

how Azula leaving would effect Zuko

how Iroh's effect on Zuko would translate to Azula

the literal changes this would have had on canon

so let's get into it!!

Zuko leaving and it's effect on Azula

So, we know Azula has a problem with abandonment, starting with her mother and ending with Zuko. To try and keep this as short and readable as possible, I'm just going to say that this obviously resulted in a constant need for control over the people she loves, very obviously shown in her relationships with Mai and Ty Lee and even Zuko in season three.

She also just has a very convoluted perception of love (obligatory azula love-fear-control analysis plug), that largely stems from never having it readily accessible to her. Now, even when Zuko was around, they never had a good relationship and she was always his tormenter, but what if they had reconciled? What if they had been able to heal that broken relationship? We'll never know if that could have been a possibility, but Zuko leaving ensured all true familial had been removed from her life.

How being forced to leave affected Zuko

We all know that being forced to leave his home and his family had a huge impact on Zuko as a person. It made him rash, angry, and determined to find the Avatar so he could return home at the cost of anything—even his own life.

Iroh became his anchor, guiding him through the worst of his turmoil and always steering him in the right direction. Iroh kept him human, and stopped him from killing himself trying to capture Aang.

Pre-banishment, we did still see that Zuko was snippy, and still had a temper that could be brought out at times. But post-banishment, all his childhood sweetness was abandoned. Anger became his default setting and his source of power. He was definitely struggling with at least some level of self-resentment and a simultaneous lack of confidence (never being good enough) and over-confidence (required to believe that he could find a man that had eluded the world for a hundred years)

Overall, his banishment made him fueled by anger and constantly at war with himself

How being forced to leave would affect Azula

Azula is a very validation-motivated creature. She has to be perfect, at all times, at all costs. There is never a misstep with her, never a miscalculation. So much as a negative word from her father could destroy her and push her off the edge.

So, imagine this girl, this super-perfectionist, messing up so badly that she is banished from her entire nation? Her father disapproves so much that he disowns her and threatens death in the event that she ever came back?

In the (honestly unlikely) event that she doesn't immediately kill him/overthrow him or try to harm herself in any way, and follows Zuko's storyline of leaving to find the Avatar... yikes. However angry and obsessed Zuko became with finding the Avatar, Azula would be a hundred times worse. The psychological breakdown she had at the end of the show? Yep, that.

She would tear through research and the entire world, leaving death and destruction in her wake. She would become a monster. (Of course, having a support system like Iroh with her would help immensely, but we'll get to that in a bit.)

There is also the question of: would Mai and Ty Lee come with her? If we're following Zuko's banishment to a T, then she should be banished at age thirteen, around a year before we meet her in canon. I'm not going to lie, that's a whole other analysis in and of itself, so maybe I can do a separate post on that later?? Send me an ask if you're interested😭😭

How Azula leaving would affect Zuko

There are two things we have to remember here: despite being the oldest sibling, Azula was always the favorite and most accomplished of the two. He was always ridiculed and looked down on due to being so far behind his sister, in raw power and cunning both.

But at the same time, this means that all the pressure to succeed was put on Azula's shoulders. It's why she became such a perfectionist. She always was perfect, so now she had to perfect enough for both of them. Now, where Zuko had been mostly given up on, they would be pushing for him to step up as heir and become the perfect one.

This is a pressure he's never had to experience before. Azula was the way she was for a reason—she became a perfectionist because of that pressure, and Zuko would probably become the same way.

Of course, I still think he would keep his sympathy and genuine humanity that Azula often lacked, but he would be forced to push it down most of the time. Where he had been grounded by Iroh in the show? Gone. He would have absolutely no one to turn to, absolutely no one to support him. If we're sticking to canon, maybe he would have Mai, but that's where it stops. And he would probably be the over-controlling POS he was in the first half of season three, maybe even worse.

Overall, Azula being banished would absolutely destroy Zuko, and probably push him to that same psychological brink Azula was teetering on the entire series. It wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure.

Zuko & Iroh -> translated for Azula & a mother figure

Okay, in order to fully answer this question, we have to take note of all the things that made Iroh and Zuko work:

Iroh losing his own son, and Zuko filling that cavity in his life

Zuko having an abusive father and Iroh becoming his father figure

Zuko needing and Iroh being an anchor in Zuko's life to keep him human

Zuko being given up on his entire childhood and Iroh being the first person with genuine faith in him and willing to help him

So, let's translate these things into Azula, and a hypothetical mother figure (disclaimer!! no hate to Ursa; this is just all from Azula's perspective and how she views her relationship w her mother <3):

Azula's mother figure potentially having once had a daughter that she was too hard on/did not treat well and wanting the chance to do right with Azula

Azula having a mother that believed she was a monster, and her mother figure reassuring her that she is human and does have the capacity for good

this mother figure also being an anchor in Azula's life, and saving her from absolutely destroying the world trying to go home

Azula being forced to be perfect her entire childhood and her mother figure being the first person to genuinely help her and allow her the space to make mistakes and reassuring her that it was okay

(Okay, not gonna lie here, this idea of a mother figure for Azula is really getting to me—the urge to write a fic I'll never finish is STRONG)

Overall, a mother figure that would support Azula and genuinely care for her would have had a colossal effect on her. I really believe that Azula would have been able to have a happy ending. idk this is really getting to me😭

AND FINALLY:

the literal changes this would have on canon

For one, I genuinely think Azula would have succeeded. Azula has always been a prodigy, and while Zuko was able to become powerful with the guidance of Iroh, Azula started out that way. I also think that while Azula's mother figure may have been able to steady her and keep her from the brink, she never would have been able to quell Azula's ambition. Her ambition is just too much a part of her, the same way Iroh was never able to quell Zuko's fury.

Also, Zuko did have Aang a few times! But he also had the sympathy to let him go, or was just not powerful to stop him from getting away. Azula was different. Genuinely nothing could of stopped her from capturing season one, inexperienced, little kid Aang. It may have taken a few shots, but she would have done it.

I really think Azula would have succeeded and returned home as a new woman, with the support of her mother figure, and now with the capacity to genuinely love people (at least to some degree.) I think Azula and Zuko would have been able to repair their broken relationship. Azula would have become Firelord with Zuko as her advisor, and the Fire Nation would have reigned in a new era. The Fire Nation also most likely would have been successful in conquering the world, now.

So, happy ending for Zuko and Azula and most of the Fire Nation, but... no one else lol.

wow! this was actually such a fun idea to play with. probably one of my favorite asks you've ever sent me<3 i love u sm we are unstoppable

#new backlogged-elegies collab just dropped??? no fucking way #also lowkey the tyzula potential here....... could go so hard. what #atla meta #atla analysis #atla #fire hazard siblings #atla azula #azula #zuko #atla zuko #fire lord azula #atla au #avatar the last airbender

50 notes · View notes