#i am actually incapable of thinking properly
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[in which i reread the angela comics for every reference to the anchorites so i can prepare for a post about sera i am probably never going to write]
#i am actually incapable of thinking properly#i have the thoughts in my head!!! but the second i try to write it out in any way intellectual i simply fail#i feel like yall actually dont get the worst of that. it stays in drafts. its way worse when i speak i stutter + slur + forget words So much#anyway#its probably for the best#ill stay silly :3#nyxtalks#its just. so interesting. hevens society and the segregation and misandry and the way sera exists as a direct contradiction to everything#that is said about the anchorites and im just!!!!!!!#god i love sera so much.#they say thw anchorites are weak but here is sera; fighting alongside hevens greatest soldier#and just#it's affirmation of seras gender shes not like all the things they say about the men but also its a statement that we are wrong about them#and it can be read both ways and i like to read it as both because the plight of the anchorites is so important to sera#i don't see her saying it to distance herself from them everything she wants is to prove that anchorites are MORE#[screams]#sorry i said i wouldn't angela post but u already knew that was a lie these girls r everything to me#im like. 10x more unhinged about angela than izzy theres just. feedback with izzy? we encourage each other but I have to do angela to myself#read the angela comics boy [threat]
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Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)
#rat rambles#starve posting#maxwell posters have lost any semblance of tolerance from me ages ago Ive yet to meet a maxwell fan who's just like a normal person#and to clarify I actually do like maxwel as I am the number one just some asshole whos in too deep enjoyer#but dear god are ppl just absolutely incapable of being normal abt this man and everyone around him#and even beyond that ppl just do not get this man like please he is indeed interesting but not because of some 'retconed redemption'#like pls we can live in a world where he is not an irridemable monster and is in fact just some guy while also still being a flawed person#like the fact that he is so deeply flawed in ways that he never actually properly adressed and challenged is the interesting thing to me#like look at me. he went through horrible shit he didnt deserve. that didnt inherently make him a better or worse person#it just made him a more miserable person#and he didnt escape because of some change of heart or character development#and afterwards he teamed up with wilson because of necessity#I do think on some level he genuinely cares abt the other survivors and he does have genuine regret for how things turned out#but again those things dont inherently mean he moved past the flaws that got him here it just means he has the ability to recognize that#shit sucks and that he wish none of it happened#its why encore is one of my favorite animations from a character perspective because it shows some juicy charlie and maxwell stuff#mainly it shows both that charlie has not forgiven his ass and is manipulating him and that maxwell is still susceptible to it#which isnt a sigh of them rolling back development it's just a sign that maxwell is easy to manipulate with the right cards#which adds up considering his past and his present very well in my opinion#this is a man whos historically always ran away from his problems and is always on the hunt for a sense of control#and charlie tapped into both that and his ever present guilt#its in fact very unsurprising and not out of place for him to fall for that sort of manipulation#and it also makes for a great set up for the inevitable betrayal from charlie as maxwell is hit by the harsh reality of his situation#and that whole situation would lead to some yummy tasty parallels when charlie inevitably gets betrayed herself (I hope)#the ways charlie and maxwel are so similar yet so different facinates me deeply I love how much charlie doesnt realize shes kinda fucked#I want her to be betrayed so hard and left in the dust with no ground to stand on I want the rug pulled out from under her feet#her composition comes from her confidence in the necessity of her actions and the moral superiority she feels over maxwell#so having her sense of superiority be revoked would make for a super fascinating dynamic as she tries to justify the situation in her head#I wanna see her siral and then maybe change her pronouns idk
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maybe i just need to reread homestuck properly but am i entirely off in saying that calliope almost feels like the closest we get to a late game apology for feferi and nepeta
#i keep consuming duckface’s menagerie of podcasts and in almost all of the homestuck episodes#he mentions something along the lines of andrew hussie being incapable of direct sincerity/doing most things in hs out of spite#which ultimately i think i agree with but simultaneously i can’t fully ignore the existence of calliope so late in the game#and in such a direct opposition to caliborn no less#that’s one of the few things i wish the epilogues actually expanded on properly tbh#especially when it comes to all the candy/meat imagery#and how the cherubs and especially alt calliope were gonna be expanded upon#but alas#hs#ehh it’ll probably come out in the next decade who am i kidding homestuck never ends#astronaut rambles
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could i request a small fic/imagine where tommy is soft with only his girlfriend/fiancé/wife and his kids?🫶🏼
Scary? My God you're divine!
A/N: hey babes, this is actually longer than I was expecting lmao. It still is under 1000 though. I am a huge sucker for soft!Tommy so thank you so much for this request 😍. I named the baby Charlotte before I realised how much her full name sucks and then couldn't be arsed to change it, so apologies to Charlotte Shelby. This is probably also ooc but I don't give a shit, but I hope you like it anon!!! 💕💕
You knew what Tommy did, what came with his job. All the illegal affairs and cutting people up. You'd be a fool not to. But you couldn't help but feel as if the real Tommy Shelby was the one who came out when he was with you.
Ever since the start of your relationship, Tommy had always acted differently around you, much softer, always there to place a soothing hand on your back or hunch over to talk to you with his lips brushing your ear, his words meant for no ears but your own. His hardened gaze softened and the corners of his mouth would quirk up in a a miniscule smile, only momentarily but you would count that as a win no less.
Arthur had employed you to help run things at the garrison, you weren't exactly excellent at maths but you were certainly better than Arthur so you would help with the books as well as working as a barmaid. The two of you met for the first time when Tommy burst into the office of the garrison with a cut on his sharp cheekbone, he thought he would be opening the door to his brother, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You insisted on helping and sanitising the "wound" and although he initially refused he soon gave in to your worried frown and relentless offer of help. The two of you had been practically inseparable since, rarely seeing one without the other and if one was missing they were never very far behind.
Tommy took to you almost immediately after meeting you, and Polly clocked him the very next day. The woman always was good at reading Tommy and that day was no different.
Over the next couple of months, whenever he was around Tommy barely let you lift a finger, always eager to help lift things and assist in anyway possible, never letting you out yourself in any risk whatsoever, no matter how small. At first you were offended, thinking that he was doing it because he thought you incapable, what with you being a woman, or if he didn't trust you enough to do things on your own. But when you brought it up one day, thoroughly fed up, he was quick to quell your suspicions and doubts by instead admitting his growing feelings towards you. Absolutely zero persuasion was needed for you to agree to a date with the handsome Tommy Shelby, and now three years later you're married with an adorable little four month old baby girl named Charlotte.
Tommy often refers to your small family as his greatest weakness, saying that if it ever gets out how soft he is that his reputation would never recover. But you just laugh to yourself and cuddle in closer, hand coming up to stroke Charlotte's head. No one would believe it if it got out, he has nothing to worry about.
The first time Tommy had held her you would've thought she was made out of cheap glass, fragile and likely to break at even the smallest of mishandlings. You knew from the moment that little Charlotte Shelby first opened her eyes, sharp and blue like her fathers, that she had Birmingham's most feared gangster wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. Once the doctor had shown him how to hold the baby properly, supporting her head and all that, it was hard to separate the two.
Every night when he came home to you he would lie in the centre of the bed with you curled up into his side, head resting on his firm shoulder, and he would place the small babe to lie on his bare chest, small legs tucking up in a scrunch like a frog and cute babbles making the corners of his eyes crease.
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fic
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agszc and the WAY THEY SAY I LOVE YOU CAUSE I'M STILL SCREAMING OVER CLOUD'S DATING HCS YOU MADE SNSKDJKD
໒⦂ ( 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ) 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
notes. you might be confused with the use of parenthesis but it’s exactly what you think.. not all of them ACTUALLY say those words.. read and see🫡
genre. fluff + angst ( sephiroth’s )
for @melukonova <3
ft. sephiroth, cloud strife, zack fair, genesis rhapsodos, angeal hewley
disclaimer. ok, poetry IS NOT my strong suit, from time to time i experiment with it but i am not the best at it so keep criticism tame please..
gender neutral! reader.
➫ 𝓢𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ sephiroth’s confession would be something that requires patience. he doesn’t have much experience with love, as he wasn’t exposed to it much throughout his life.
⌗ it doesn’t mean he’s incapable of feeling it, rather, it’s a matter of him truly realizing those feelings he has and how deep they run. now the way those words come out.. would likely be influenced by heightened emotions.
a beat of silence passed before the the silver haired hero closed the door, turning to face you with an expression you weren’t certain his features were even capable of making. “what were you thinking??”
he was distressed, brows knitted together as you watched his chest rise and fall unevenly, each breath more irregular than the last. you assumed it was anxiety — something you’d never associated with sephiroth.. until now, that was. “i was doing my job, an injury or few is unavoidable at times, you know that.” came your mumble, feeling your own brows furrow.
of course he knew that, the top hero knew that better than anyone.. but this. “there are other ways to get things done, what you did today was completely reckless — as though you had no care whatsoever for your life.” he argued, moonlight bangs swishing from right to left when his head shook. “you could have died!”
now it was your turn to get frustrated as you stood up from your place despite your aching muscles, walking up to his broad frame. “and that’s suddenly an issue now? our line of work demands for us to risk our lives everyday no matter the mission! we both knew this going into our relationship, so why are you suddenly so worked up over this??” you matched his tone, not fond of the approach he’d taken in addressing you.
“because i nearly lost you!” he shouted, overcome with emotions so powerful, he couldn’t even stop the onyx, gloved hands that flew to your shoulders, clinging desperately to something.. something even he didn’t know of.
his breath stuttered as he lowered his head, trembling in his place. “i can’t.. i-i can’t have you leave me, too…” the first class SOLDIER whispered in a voice so broken, so defeated, you had to remind yourself that behind this towering, imposing powerhouse.. was a human being, with feelings of his own, no matter how well he hid them. a human that knew loss, and an unwelcomed amount of it.. and feared more of it.
unsure of what to do, you pulled him down into a hug, feeling your anger fade into nothingness as you allowed your eyes to close. “i won’t, not ever.”
➫ 𝓒𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗗 𝓢𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ he says get help but he’s the one that needs help.. bro just, he can’t say it — he’s too embarrassed and he just doesn’t rlly know how to bring it across properly..
⌗ in the end, he opts for a more subtle method that aerith had once told him about. it required minimal speech on his end, and called for actions to take the reigns — perfectly up his alley.. as long as you got the memo.
“cloud?” you called out in surprise, turning to find a familiar spiky haired blond with an ivory colored flower in between his gloved fingers.
his lightly tanned cheeks were dusted with a tint of pink, seemingly reddening as he held out his hand, averting his gaze. “you said you wanted me to bring you something back from my delivery in sector five.. figured i’d bring something you don’t find everyday here.”
your knowledge of flowers was minimal, as midgar.. wasn’t exactly filled with them. you only rarely saw them from a distance, and on the occasions that you had, normally they were too pricey to purchase.
somehow, however, the owner of strife delivery services seemed to have gotten his hands on one singular flower. when you’d ask for a small souvenir from his travels, it had been a joke, simply you joshing like you normally had with him.. though it appeared this time, that he had taken it seriously.
you cleared your throat, letting out a sheepish laugh. “you didn’t have to do that, but thank you — i’ve.. never received a flower before, much less held one..” you confessed in a soft tone, taking the bloom from his grasp as you brought it close to your face.
even without leaning in to take in its scent, the sweetness greeted your senses as a smile etched itself onto your lips. “aah~ it smells wonderful, what kind of flower is it??”
he rubbed his neck at the question, feeling himself grow more nervous by the second. “it’s um.. it’s called gardenia. aerith’s mom insisted i took one back with me, since they were the newest edition to her garden.. said something about it having a deeper meaning, too.” cloud spoke up, finally lifting his mako-azure eyes to meet yours.
you lowered the flower in your hands, tilting your head. “deeper meaning? i didn’t think flowers were so complex.” you snickered into your free hand before grinning brightly at him. “but, go on. i’m curious!”
the tips of his ears seemed to burn with red as his lips parted before he turned his back to you, folding his arms. “o-on second thought, i forgot..”
“WHAT?? no way, it must be good if you won’t say! come on cloud!” you urged him, moving in front of him to see his face, but all you caught was the faintest smile as he continued to turn away. so cryptic!
➫ 𝓩𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝓕𝗔𝗜𝗥 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ zack uh- as we can tell, he isn’t exactly the ‘think before you speak’ kinda guy — whatever comes out, comes out.. with no regard to how blunt or sudden it might end up sounding.
⌗ now how would that apply to a confession? well, i think he would just say it without even thinking of the impact behind his words. it would just come out naturally, casually.. and you would end up staring like- did he fr just say that??
a sigh left your lips as you turned the page of the newest issue you’d picked up of shinra’s very own magazine, because what didn’t the prestigious electric company have to their name?
meanwhile zack was busying himself with yet another set of squats, clearly antsy. missions had been quiet as of late, mundane even. at the moment, you were both occupying the second class floor, waiting for orders.. but nothing came.
a groan left the nicknamed puppy’s lips as he halted his movements before draping finally himself onto the spot on the couch you hadn’t occupied. “man i bet the firsts are out kicking ass! they really don’t have anything for us to do here??”
you licked your thumb to flip to the next spread, humming. “unless you feel like getting involved with professor hojo’s questionable ass tasks, i’d rather sit here in boredom.” you confessed, missing the grimace on his face since your eyes remained on the passage you had been reading.
“i guess you have a point.. but still.” he pouted, leaning into your face as a means of getting your attention. “can’t we go ask lazard?? he’s gotta have something by now for us, right?!”
a laugh seemed to leave your lips at his complaints as you lifted your eyes at last to meet his zircon ones, a smile stretching across your lips. “and, what? have him tell us no for the fifth time in the last two hours?”
his appendages seemed to part in protest before they jutted out once more. “w-well! for all we know a mission could have popped up on that computer of his right now! with angeal and them gone, they’re bound to ask us! i’m sure of it!” the second class SOLDIER insisted, clenching his fists in determination. “come on, y/n! it beats reading whatever propaganda you’re reading!”
it was partly true, shinra’s magazine went on and on about sephiroth’s feats if it wasn’t already in the daily paper or news. and one look at those puppy eyes had you crumbling. damn him for that effortlessly adorable face..
“fine, we’ll ask one last time.. but if he says no, you owe me a drink from the vending machine since i paid last time!” you huffed out, tossing your copy back on the the coffee table as you stood up with your hands on your hips.
as though sparkles had appeared in his eyes, zack hopped to his feet before engulfing you in a tight hug. “for real?? you’re the best, y/n!! i love you! i love you! i love you!!”
➫ 𝓖𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 𝓡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗦 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ ah, the romantic and the one that does too much because everyone else ain’t doing enough ( his words ) — genesis. you can expect a very enigmatic brain scratching confession..
⌗ or in other words, the cheesiest kind of confession that involves poetry, some form of incorporation with loveless, and just some frivolous display of his affections for you in case you don’t pick up on the hints..
“y/n, my dear! won’t you hang back awhile? our work is done for today.. perhaps you’ll indulge me in a piece i worked on, hm?” the redhead spoke up, causing you to pause in your tracks as you blinked over at him.
a piece? “you mean.. poetry?” you inquired for certainty, surprised that he had the spare time to be writing something. “i’m not the best at deciphering metaphors and whatnot.. but i’d be willing to hear what you have.” you smiled, eager to see what he had been working on in his free time.
“not to worry!” he waved you off, pulling out a small notebook from his long coat. “even the foolish and emotionally unintelligent, like our beloved sephiroth could understand!” genesis laughed out, fearless of his friend — or in his eyes, rival — as usual.
you let out a nervous chuckle as you pulled up a chair to hear what he’d prepared, praying that your silver haired friend did not hear.. not that he would care, anyway. just genesis being genesis.. “well um, i’ll do my best to somewhat comprehend what you wrote.” you offered, anyway, placing your hands on your lap as a means of resting them.
the male dressed in crimson took it as a sign to commence, lifting his fist up to clear his throat before holding up his poem. “in a bed of asters, the tears of the goddess.. blossoms a favored one amidst a world or filth and endless disasters — a beauty that wears star formed petals for a bodice..and adorns droplet shaped blades of which its creator once wept.” genesis paused, trailing a finger down to the next line. “one day, a new flower would emerge — tall, scarlet, and proud.. tenderly well kept, and yet.. as sorrowed as a rain cloud.”
you almost wanted to question why, curiosity overtaking you despite the urge to giggle at a few.. choice of words he made. how couldn’t you when it was so reminiscent of the usual reciting he did of his most favorite work of literature.
compelled by your zealousness, you fed into your inquisitiveness. “why was it sorrowed?”
a soft chuckle tumbled past his lips at the awe in your voice as he closed the book with a low hum. “for it was loveless, without its starry accomplice.. that bloomed on a path far away enough to diverge.” he finished gently before sliding a hand to your cheek. “nevertheless, that is but fiction.. as our paths will remain entwined, and my heart shall not bleed with my beloved star around.”
➫ 𝓐𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝓗𝗘𝗪𝗟𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ ah, yes, the confession of his love.. yet another unspoken way of proclaiming his feelings for you, although i believe his method may just be a little more meaningful.. but just a little.
⌗ however, what would call for the confession exactly, and the realization of his feelings? personally, i believe it’d have either been something in the heat of the moment — in other words, you being in danger, or perhaps.. an inquiry, in regards to the buster sword glued to his back.
“earlier..” your began, eyeing your lover with a curious gaze. “that was the first i’d ever seen you draw the buster sword.. for the longest time, i convinced myself it was decorative, or something.. but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
the rag in angeal’s hand came to a pause at the question, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “i remember zack asking me that several times before and i still haven’t presented him with a proper answer.” he mused, eyes softening as he gazed upon his weapon. “growing up, my family was not one for riches. we had enough to get by, thankfully, but making money was hard work on my parents — specifically my father.”
a breeze passed through the few strands of hair that frames his face as he gazed upon the sky. “still, he had wanted to gift me something for passing the SOLDIER exam, and had this forged for me.” he smiled gently, closing his eyes. “it took him a very long time to recover financially for his debts in having this buster made, so long that it cost him his very life in the end..” the first class SOLDIER spoke up, allowing his eyes to lower back down to the blade in his hands. “and so, i do my best to avoid bringing any wear, tear or rust upon it.. as it represents not only my dreams and honor, but the efforts and sacrifice for its creation.” he finished steadily, finally meeting your stare. “but for you, i would draw it without a second thought.”
your boyfriend was already impressive to begin with- the most humble and noble person you had come to know.. but this? it had left you in complete awe to know how sentimental he truly was, despite his stoic demeanor. and for him to have used his beloved weapon to shield you from harm — what did that mean? that he.. held you in higher regard than it..?
“you.. you would do that for me?” your inquiry was stupid, as he had done it once already, earlier in fact.. but angeal nodded, regardless, the small smile on his lips expanding, even if it was just a pinch wider.
“if it guarantees your safety.. in a heartbeat.” he answered with little delay, a fondness in his mako tinted eyes — one that he only ever really showed to you.
notes. zack being the only one who actually says i love you verbatim.. meanwhile the others are cryptic and expect you to guess ( cloud.. genesis.. ) or say it without needing to say those three words.. crazy tbh
↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask
#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics.#final fantasy 7#ffvii#ff7#final fantasy vii#ff7 crisis core#sephiroth#sephiroth x reader#sephiroth x you#sephiroth x y/n#cloud strife#cloud strife x y/n#cloud strife x you#ffvii x reader#cloud strife x reader#zack fair#zack fair x y/n#zack fair x you#zack fair x reader#genesis rhapsodos#genesis rhapsodos x you#genesis rhapsodos x reader#genesis rhapsodos x y/n#angeal hewley#angeal hewley x reader#angeal hewley x y/n#angeal hewley x you#final fantasy 7 x reader#final fantasy vii x reader#agszc
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What if using the pronouns for someone is a trigger for me? I've tried to work on it in the past with my therapist, but we made little progress on this particular issue in two years and I'm starting to run out of money for therapy. Should I just avoid people who use the pronouns?
no? do you understand how absolutely off the walls that is? that's literally NOT how you heal from trauma- this is the EXACT opposite of that. what, should trans people with she/her or he/him trauma avoid every single person they encounter who use he or she from here on out?
why are you even talking to me to begin with? i use it/its pronouns only.
alright FUCK THIS. not being overly nice for this one, this is absolutely vile and fucking personal at this stage. look i have very severe PTSD and i am sick and TIRED of people using their OWN trauma as an excuse to MISGENDER OTHER PEOPLE:
YOU ARE PERPETUATING THE CYCLE OF ABUSE WHETHER OR NOT YOU REALIZE IT.
you will NEVER have the excuse to refuse to properly gender someone because YOU have some type of trauma. that fucking sucks that you have trauma but that is NOBODY'S burden to bear but yours and NOBODY is misgendering YOU on purpose for it. you CAN and WILL get over triggers if you actually try. you have to put in a lot of effort. you have to understand that calling SOMEONE ELSE BY THEIR CORRECT PRONOUNS IS NOT YOU GETTING MISGENDERED.
YOU are NOT being misgendered by referring to someone else by their CORRECT pronouns. you HAVE to get the fuck over it and STOP making someone else's pronouns about yourself.
seriously, re-read this question and ask yourself is that even a remotely healthy sounding line of thinking? do you seriously think it's okay for men who have been abused by a lot of women to incorrectly refer to women and pathologically avoid them? do you seriously think it's okay for women who have been abused by a lot of men to misgender every man they come across and pathologically avoid men for the rest of their lives?
honestly, how hard have you even tried to work on this? be serious with yourself. you can say you worked on it, but have you? go the fuck back to therapy, you're not done yet. i don't know how to tell you GIVING UP is not the correct way to go about this. therapy can take years and DECADES you can't just INSTANTLY give the fuck up because it brings back upsetting memories. you HAVE to care about other people's feelings, you can't prioritize yourself in ever single situation on planet earth. you can't. trauma can and does make people do selfish, abusive, manipulative things. you are NOT incapable of abusing others just because you have trauma. you don't deserve to be coddled just because you have trauma.
if you can't see it/its users as people who deserve respect and deserve to be referred to correctly, you are projecting your own trauma about your own feelings on these pronouns on to complete and total fucking strangers and that is nobody's problem but yours. that needs to be worked on fucking ASAP. absolutely un-fucking-real. i'm a person and i hate it that you just do not see it/its users as people, but instead roadblocks, and that you don't care about our feelings whatsoever.
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❖ let's get you to bed // kwon hoshi
requested by @phenomenalgirl9 : So its been really rainy in my city and I've been having a really huge work load cause we have a project closing soon. Can you write something with (all that and) Ramyeon + spam + kimchi + KWON HOSHI.
hoshi x gn!reader, 1.5k+ words
tags: dancer!hoshi again not rlly relevant to plot, sick fic, fluff, established relationship
warnings: food, reader is sick, pet names (baby)
notes: kinda incorporated a req into this sick fic that i wanted to write hehe. might also write another sick fic depending on if i have time,,,,
It’s a Friday. Soonyoung gets home when it’s well past 10 in the evening, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Neither is it totally out of the ordinary for you to be waiting on the couch, the TV set to a volume so low that there’s no way that you’re actually listening to it.
It’s not normal for him to be upset by that, though.
“Baby.”
You looked up at his voice, and you don’t even seem to notice the heavy disappointment in his words as you rub your eyes, voice all croaky as you smile. “Hey, Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung frowns, taking off his shoes and dropping his bag by his bedroom door, before padding across the apartment and into the living room. “You’re sick.”
You nod, sniffing, before reaching over to the tissue box balanced on the arm of the couch. “I am.” A loud blow of your nose emphasises your point.
Sighing, Soonyoung shakes his head. He crosses the living room, turning on the lights and turning off the TV. You hiss at the sudden brightness, holding your head, and he walks over to poke your forehead lightly, leaning down to look you right in the eye, his face set in an unhappy pout.
“You should’ve been resting, then,” he says, pouting even more. He holds a hand over your forehead, eyes softening when you lean into his hand. “Look at you, you’re burning up again.”
Outside, the wind howls harder, and the rain batters against the windows. It’s been thunderstorming for a good two weeks now, and you’ve managed to avoid getting sick for all that time. But, just yesterday, you’d caught the dreaded illness that had been going around, leaving you bedridden and incapable of going to work for two days straight.
Soonyoung is a big believer of rest being one of the best medicines for colds, so as he tweaks your nose disapprovingly while you try to explain that you stayed up to greet him, you know that he’s disappointed in your behaviour.
“Baby,” he says sadly, “you’re really sick. Your nose is all bunged up, and you have a really bad fever. Don’t you think you should’ve stayed in bed?”
Your face falls, sad that you’ve made Soonyoung sad, and your boyfriend smooths back your hair consolingly. You know that he’s scolding you like this because he cares about your health, but you still really wanted to see him.
“Wanted to see you before the day ended,” you admit, and he coos softly, fingers brushing over the top of your head before he stands up. “I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he says, all gooey soft, and no matter the situation, hearing and seeing your boyfriend becoming so devastatingly soft just for you always makes you flush. “But we gotta get you back to bed, baby. Come on. Up you get. Have you had any medicine yet?”
Soonyoung straightens, standing up properly, and you look up at him for a moment before giving him your biggest, wet puppy eyes, holding your arms out wide.
“Carry me?” you ask, and Soonyoung blinks down at you for a long moment.
But almost instantly, his face is breaking into a fond smile, lips curling upwards as he leans forward again so you can wrap your arms around his neck, humming happily when he lifts you with ease, carrying you back to your room.
Perks of having a dancer boyfriend: he can carry you when you’re sick.
He settles you under your covers, stroking the hair out of your face, lips twitching upwards as you sniff loudly to try and unblock your nose.
“Cute,” he murmurs as he sits on your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and oddly, that small detail is infinitely reassuring to you. You want to laugh at how ridiculous it is that he finds you sniffling wetly to be something cute, too. but your head hurts too much to do so, and you feel really dizzy. Goodness, maybe you are really sick.
“Baby,” you mumble, and he hums to show he’s listening. “Baby, ‘m tired.”
Soonyoung laughs at that, nudging the side of his finger against your cheek affectionately. “I can imagine. Don’t go to sleep yet, though. You need to have some meds.”
He stands up, then, and a cold sense of panic washes over you, grabbing onto his hand before he can go too far.
“Don’t go,” you say to him, fingers enclosing around his cool wrist. Your own skin is crawling with an uncomfortable heat, and Soonyoung’s hand is a blessed relief. “Please, don’t go.”
Soonyoung looks pained, and he slides his hand down in your hold to intertwine your fingers. He kisses your knuckles, soft, and you almost think he’s going to stay before he releases your hand. “I need to get your medicine,” he says gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
You whine, disappointed, before your breath catches on a particularly nasty cough that dissolves into several more, leaving you gasping. Soonyoung’s hand is instantly on your back, rubbing circles, and his voice is quiet and concerned as he speaks again.
“See? You stay here, and I’ll get you something to ease your pain. Okay?”
Reluctantly, you nod, sinking back into the pillows as Soonyoung’s fingers brush over your forehead once more before he exits your room.
—
It takes half an hour for Soonyoung to come back.
You don’t notice, too preoccupied with how hard your head is pounding and how your tongue feels like it’s swelled up and is taking up far too much space inside your mouth. Nothing feels like it fits right.
Your nose is running really badly, too, and you don’t have any tissues in your room.
By the time Soonyoung comes back, you’re focused more on the box of tissues he has balanced on a tray, rather than the other things that are gently steaming alongside it.
He sets the tissues on the bedside table and you grab one immediately, wiping your nose and blowing loudly with an almost comical ‘honk’. Soonyoung chuckles, sitting down on your bed again and placing the tray on your knees.
“Here,” he says, drawing your attention to what else is on the tray, and you blink in surprise.
There’s a bowl of cup noodles in your lap, the steam wafting from the noodles and if your nose wasn’t so blocked, you know that is would have smelled incredible. You smile, touched, before Soonyoung leans over and turns on your bedside lamp and you gasp.
There are chunks of spam in the noodles, which is utterly delightful because he knows how much you love spam, but also…
“This is from my beloved kimchi stash,” Soonyoung informs you when you look up at him to see if you’re seeing this correctly. “The one that my mother made. Since my baby is so sick,” he says, pinching your cheek fondly, “I thought I really should give some to you.”
“Aw, thank you so much,” you say with a smile, and your voice comes out unexpectedly croaky, making Soonyoung chuckle. He pinches your cheek again, adoring.
“Go on. Eat up.”
You can’t really eat much, taking small bites of the noodles, because as much as you want to simply devour the cheap carbs and artificial flavourings, your head is still, admittedly, spinning a little too much. Soonyoung brings a glass of water to your lips just as your swallowing your fifth mouthful, gentle and attentive.
He makes you take some pills then, too, and you try and finish off your meal. But it’s late, and the meds are making you feel drowsy, so you’re only halfway through when your eyes begin to droop.
“Hey, hey, careful,” Soonyoung laughs softly, fingers tilting your head upwards when it lolls dangerously, chopsticks full of kimchi hanging limp in your fingers. “Okay. Let’s get you to sleep, baby.”
He removes the tray from your lap, making soft noises back at you when you whine at the loss of your ramyeon and kimchi.
“I’ll give it to you again tomorrow,” he promises, and you feel placated at that.
You’re horribly uncoordinated, due to your sickness and your sleepiness, and you hum appreciatively as Soonyoung takes one of the tissues and wipes down your mouth, before taking another tissue and blowing your nose for you too.
It’s a sweet gesture, albeit a little clumsy, and it has you smiling drowsily up at him.
“I love you,” you murmur as he tucks you in, his fingers tracing gentle patterns across your cheek. “Love you, Soonyoungie.”
“I love you too,” Soonyoung whispers back, and the sound of his voice is so soft. “My Y/N.”
Soonyoung is a gentle person at heart, full of precious love and the desire to love and be loved delicately. And it’s during moments like this that you can see that shining through.
Your eyes slip closed—warm, content, loved—and Soonyoung presses a feather-light kiss to your head just before you fall away to dreamland.
fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29
#fairyhaos.works#k-labels#svt#seventeen#hoshi#soonyoung#seventeen fic#hoshi fic#svt fic#svt hoshi#svt x reader#hoshi x reader#kwon soonyoung#hoshi x you#soonyoung x you#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen hoshi#seventeen soonyoung#svt soonyoung#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#hoshi fluff#hoshi imagines#seventeen imagines#svt au
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What are your thoughts on Crowfeather's Trial? I already know how you feel about my other least favorite super editions so I'm curious about your opinions on this one lol
I think at best it's just okay. Like...it feels like they're going "see!! We're holding him accountable!!" But then they just kinda...dont?? Like I didn't feel any differently about Crowfeather by the end than I did when I started. There's parts I like about it but overall it just fell flat for me
Like how am I supposed to like this guy when he's just constantly a dick?? he can't stand Harespring for some reason, there's a moment where he's like "I wish my son was dead" and when Nightcloud goes missing he barely gives a damn and doesn't bother to even try and look for her
Anyways I'll forever be mad that they gave this guy a whole super edition and he'll probably have the most dramatic death ever while Leafpool suffered her entire life (and afterlife) and got killed off screen. Hoping he gets jumped by rats and dies from infection
I'm not a big fan of it. It's one of the better written SEs and has a clear goal in mind, but every time I have to encounter it, it feels like it's sidelining the characters who actually deserve to be explored in favor of Crowfeather Sadboy Whinging.
Breezepelt has 12 books detailing how being mistreated by Crowfeather is making him worse, and showing that social alienation is pushing him towards the Dark Forest. Nightcloud was demonized by the old team even though they wrote Crowfeather deflecting all the blame of Breeze's behavior onto her, giving the new team a great opportunity to correct the mistakes of the old writers... and they decided to focus on Crowfeather instead.
And, mind you, they conveniently leave out massive details about how BADLY Crowfeather was abusing his child.
There's this one part of the book where he learns that Breezepelt broke his leg as a kid and he feels like shit for not remembering it, and it's supposed to be a big moment where Crowfeather realizes he was apathetic and careless. But he WASN'T just apathetic and careless. We see him TEACHING his child xenophobia in order to mock and offend Leafpool, smacking Breezepaw around for being 'rude' (the way Crowf always is), and screeching at him for having basic needs like hunger or rest.
Crowfeather WASN'T just a sad, sad boy who didn't pay attention to his kid because he was too busy pining over Dead Wife. What he did to Breezepelt wasn't just neglect; it was physical and emotional abuse.
The book DOES ultimately hold him responsible for how Breezepelt turned out, yes. But it doesn't properly focus on WHAT made Breeze come out the way he did. It wasn't genes, it wasn't Daddy Not Smile At Me. I can only assume the reason why they didn't address how ghoulish Crowfeather actually was is because they knew that being honest and direct about him abusing his child would make him unsympathetic.
Which is a problem, because, y'know, you can just make it Breezepelt's Trial and NOT have to thread that needle??
And furthermore... the book is trying to show Crowfeather addressing that he's kind of an asshole and moving on from it, earning deputyship as a reward for his growth, but what the book really demonstrates to me is that Crowfeather is a dickhead who actually shouldn't have ANY power at all. I don't understand why people would trust him or want him as their leader. I don't see any reason to think that he would be responsible with the lives of an entire Clan of people.
Before I hear clown shoes; if you think that means I "just don't like" that he would be an ""interesting leader,"" pile yourself back into the car with your 30 other jesters and drive away. I mean that it feels completely wrong that any character in-universe would look at the person who exists in Crowfeather's Trial, and say, "this is a person who would help me effectively rule."
What he does, all-book-long, is show that he's an emotionally unstable loose canon borderline incapable of self-reflection. Other characters have to directly tell him "you should try being less of an asshole" and "maybe be nice to your family sometimes?" while he comes up with bullshit reasons to seethe at every character who wanders into his line of sight.
I massively resent the fact that even Leafpool has to mommy his baby ass towards the end of the book. After he spends a good part of Po3 and OotS finding roundabout ways to snipe at her for not giving him exactly what he wanted. It falls on HER to be the one he can ask for advice on how to fix the family he treated like shit his whole life.
no that's not hyperbole she literally. textually. is compared to his mother.
and he can't even be gracious about it, he's instantly all huffy and offended, completely proving her point. Why the hell would anyone make this guy a deputy? The man needs TWO motherly figures giving him the exact same basic advice and a dedicated super edition before he adjusts his behavior even slightly.
(watch him get Boring Leader Syndrome the minute he inevitably becomes Crowstar, too)
Sooo, in a nutshell;
It's one of the better SEs. unfortunately.
Crowfeather is held accountable for being the problem in his own relationships, thank god
but it doesn't fully hold the actions we SAW in the main series books accountable, seemingly purposefully leaving out the worst things he did.
Another WC book where a male character gets an insane amount of sympathy and rewarding that female characters are NEVER deigned deserving of.
Should have been Breezepelt's story. I strongly dislike how Breeze's "redemption" was based on his shitty dad saying sorry. He deserved an actual character arc struggling with ever trusting WindClan again after they took his dad's judgement about him at face value.
Absolutely awful that Leafpool is killed between books and given a trial where they consider sending her to hell when they finally DO get around to showing how she died, while Crowfeather gets an SE about the whole world holding his hand so he can fix the family he broke in 5 easy steps.
Its biggest problem is that it is about a character whose actions you can go and read about. It doesn't deliver on the setup of 12 books of Crowfeather being an absolute git; it's a good story for the version of Crowfeather the new team seems to have created in their heads.
Doesn't stop me from manifesting him getting an infection and having a Sandstorm-tier disrespectful death in the upcoming series, lmao.
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*guy who loves talking about despair disease voice* wait can we talk more about despair disease. i have so many thoughts on despair disease and esp how it pertains to nagito
i feel like when a lot of people first play/watch the games they see nagito as someone who lies to manipulate people, which while i can’t super blame them for thinking that way bc of how hajime tries to reconcile his conflicting feelings over nagito, i get SO frustrated when ppl call nagito a liar bc no!!! no he’s not!!! you’re falling for other characters’ perceptions of him!!! nagito almost never lies and when he does he’s either really bad at it (cough cough final FTE. “i got it all from a book” you are not slick buddy) or comes clean as soon as he’s achieved his desired outcome- it’s more bluffing than actual deception, and one thing he’s especially sincere in is his beliefs and admiration for the people around him. and the despair disease PROVES this without a doubt!!
ok. i know in-text the despair disease is described as “reversing people’s personalities,” but i’ve always interpreted it a little differently. ibuki isn’t the opposite of gullible, akane isn’t the opposite of a coward, and nagito isn’t the opposite of a liar. to me, it’s always seemed like the despair disease gives its host the trait they’d most hate to have— whatever trait would instill in them the deepest despair. ibuki hates conformity- stick her with a disease that makes her blindly follow whatever she’s told. akane hates showing weakness- force her into a state of constant crying. nagito hates the idea of deceiving his classmates- make him incapable of being sincere. this interpretation makes mikan’s disease make a little more sense too imo, since remembering her brainwashing isn’t exactly reversing her personality but instead literally filling her to the brim with despair. ANYWAYS.
nagito Actively Despises not being able to tell the truth. he hates the despair disease, he sees it as a complete waste. in the ult. luck and hope and despair mangas, we actually get to see some of his internal monologue right before he passes out, and he is In Hell. he’s pissed that he can’t serve as a proper stepping stone in his state, he thinks the whole disease is stupid, and he gets so frustrated about not being able to properly encourage the group that he Literally Starts Foaming At The Mouth ????? like if you EVER wanted undeniable proof that nagito is sincere look at the despair disease. it’s basically a roundabout truth serum for him and that’s a huge part of why it’s one of my favorite motives
sidenote i feel like the despair disease has a shit ton of analysis potential in general just bc of how it turns characters into what they hate the most!! i loveeee brainstorming what symptoms certain characters would have gotten were they to get infected. hajime especially. maybe he’d get a fawning disease where he starts praising everyone nagito-style (this would highlight their bystander parallels and also make hajime feel MISERABLE bc he fucking hates when nagito points out how similar they are lmao). or maybe he’d get an apathy disease that’d essentially izuru-fy him (wonderful foreshadowing potential there, not to imagine the incredible angst of izuru being the thing hajime would hate to be most in the world.) alas i am not a fanfic author so i will sit with my concepts but it is a wonderful daydream with any dangan characters i’d highly recommend it :]
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!!!!! I SCREAM IN UNISON WITH YOU I LOOOVEEE THE DESAIR DISEASE!!!!! MAN… I’M SO OBSESSED WITH HOW YOU INTERPRET AND ARTICULATED THE DESPAIR DISEASE💗💗💗 The Despair Disease is genuinely so good for analyzing I really do believe Danganronpa 2 Chapter 3 is the best Chapter 3 out of the franchise. I think the reserving of their personalities truly meaning the traits they would hate to have is soo good I’m eating up, sealing it in my heart, and using it forever such a delightful way to explain it. The interpretations on what disease Hajime would get is so fun, I’ve seen some people interpret him getting the honesty disease which is fun in concept but I don’t think it works as well as other ideas could, y’know? Your ideas for a potential apathy or fawning disease are really fun to me, I like the idea of the fawning disease tapping into how much of a realist he is and giving him the opposite attitude Lol. Thank you so much for sending this it’s so fun I’ll be thinking about this forever, I wish I was a fanfic writer aha! I really want to become a fanfic writer, soon with time I suppose. Thank you again for sharing your daydreams with me, you’re very right it does have a lot of analysis potential! :D
#despair disease#danganronpa 2#hajime hinata#sdr2#danganronpa 2 chapter 3#nagito komaeda#ibuki mioda#akane owari#danganronpa#danganronpa spoilers#danganronpa 2 spoilers#sdr2 nagito#danganronpa nagito#sdr2 komaeda#danganronpa komaeda#komaeda nagito#danganronpa goodbye despair#hajime#nagito#hinata#komaeda#sdr2 hajime hinata#izuru kamakura#danganronpa fandom#sorry this took so long to answer ahhhrbrjrnns#sdr2 nagito komaeda#dr2
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hii kira !! do u have any hcs for sae abt how he would be as a bf?
SAE ITOSHI 糸師冴
if sae were a love trope he would 100% be belated love epiphany
"i never realised how much i loved them until they were gone." type beat yk
like pride and prejudice, except he's elizabeth and you're darcy ??
where you confess first and he rejects you but once you're not near him he realises that he really did love you
or when he saw how loaded you were, you be the judge (kidding)
y'all already know i think he's a good cook. like he was in spain for ages you bet he picked a few things up. cuz idk about spanish men but ik most italian men know how to cook and well.
he pours all his love into everything he makes, probably his love language honestly.
but he'd never let you know he's cooking for you because he cares
"you look like a ghost have you been eating properly?" "oh, no. unfortunately, i haven't found much time to cook lately..." "how bothersome. am i gonna have to take you all the way to the hospital when you faint from anemia?" "but i'm not even anemic..." "you will be if you don't eat your spinach." "..." "you know what. since you're so incapable i'll just cook for you." "excuse me??"
forgive him, he's just a bit of a cunt, but he loves you i promise
(also if you didn't know fun fact: preparing a homemade meal for someone is akin to confessing your feelings to them)
he's not much for PDA in fact in public he has his same, stupid, emotionless, deadpan face that is so punchable (affectionately?)
but when you're at home he'll find any excuse to lean his whole bodyweight on you
he also loves leaning in to kiss you and then reaching behind you to grab something or whatever, just to leave you flushed and stressed the fuck out
annoying asshole
he also gets very touchy when tired, if you're sleeping next to each other he tends to end up hugging you close to his heart by the time you wake up
he may not seem it but he would genuinely do anything for you
he tends to ignore most messages/texts/emails unless they're super important but he'd reply to you the second you text him
or even if it's a silly tweet
@you: there are 2 many ppl at this café 😞 @officialsaeitoshi: send me your location i got you your usual @you: ayo, how did you have it prepared n everything 😭 @officialsaeitoshi: spidey senses
he also has the most deadpan, sarcastic humour known to man
he's horrible (just my type)
nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted
beware!!!
he is the no.1 gossiper alive, he knows everything about everyone's business even if he looks like the type of person who'd never think of anyone other than himself
somehow he's both at the same time
he could go hours talking about this random guy in his club who's actually the secret son of a drug lord and who ran away from home to save himself from imminent death...
what???? how does he know this?
i'm pretty sure he doesn't know either, anyway
he loves his lil self care night routines
you both sitting on the sofa talking about life (actually it's just him talking and you listening but whatever)
sae itoshi was an evening person. not because he felt most productive then. and not because he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the city. but because he enjoyed his night routines with you right next to him every second. you'd sit on the sink sill as he gently passed a finger with clay on it over your face as you kept talking about your day. "and then when i went to get coffee there were just so many people at the café it was such a hassle. this guy–" "shush. do you want clay in your mouth?" he kept swiping the remaining clay mask on your now stationary chin. once done he lifted you and walked to the sofa. this was no new routine. this was the only way he was able to unwind. with you next to him, just talking about the little, almost meaningless things. "i read somewhere that your coach is having an affair is that true?" you didn't know why you kept instigating him. it was late and you knew if he began talking now he'd only finish once the sun rose or your wake up alarm rang. but seeing him so animated was a rarity so you had to take advantage anytime you could.
now for how he confessed
at first when you confessed he rejected you and didn't think much of it at all
until he started noticing the little things about you, he started obsessing with every bit of you
how you looked, how you dress, how you style your hair
but also how your under eyes crease when you smile
how you're very picky with your food, especially dessert, but you'd eat anything if someone handmade it for you
how you're so patient when you tutor even if the person is being a dumbfuck
after obsessing over everything you did for about a day or two he was sick of the weird, nauseating feeling in his stomach
it had been about three days since the confession. being rejected right on the spot, especially in that cold manner was painful to say the least. but you were sure you had gotten over it. and you hoped with all your heart that he too had forgotten. he had just stood there as you finished telling him how he made you feel and how you had liked him for a while now. he had a horrible scowl on his face, arms crossed and an uninterested posture. you already knew what the answer was when you were done but it hurt so much more when he finally confirmed it all. so it was surprising when you saw sae march up to you as you ate your lunch with your friends. he had the same horrible scowl on his face from before. and you could feel your stomach drop as he pulled your wrist in a gruff manner. careless. he didn't care for you. "itoshi what are you–" he finally stopped once you were in a quiet corner behind the main building, away from curious eyes. "we need to talk." "about what?" "i couldn't sleep." "ok..?" "i couldn't stop thinking about you." "oh. i'm sorry if my confession made you uncomfortable. i didn't mean for it to bother you so much." "yes. it's so bothersome. now every time i see you with anyone but me, it hurts. i can't stand hearing about anyone but me, from you. i don't want you to think of anyone but me."
and then you were just like 😧🫣😏🤩
if you think rin's dramatic just WAIT until you talk to sae he's insane
THE BIGGEST drama queen (i hate him)
although i do think he is secure about himself and knows you wouldn't ever hurt him
i feel like he does have abandonment issues (a bit)
like imagine going through your teen years without family in a foreign country, you'd feel isolated no matter how many friends you made or how nice your host family was
he tries not giving any external reaction so you barely notice at first but every time he sees you with someone, looking a bit too friendly, he always feels his heart tighten
he's very gentle when kissing you
it's not like he's super strong or anything (mans is tiny)
and it's not that he's scared to hurt you, he just doesn't wanna appear too possessive or anything
favourite places to kiss you: why do i wanna say your waist, also knuckles
no idea why i just feel like if he weren't allowed to kiss your lips for any reason he would kiss there
but he definitely needed you to initiate the physical contact when you first started dating
speaking of which
dates with sae
100% movie nights, or just staying at home in general
mans hates going out if it's unnecessary
although, if you want anything he'd do it for you in an instant
or when he's feeling extra energetic
he'll take you dancing; this can either be ballroom dancing (which makes you cringe a bit but it's fun), salsa or literally just clubbing
i think he secretly loves clubbing at techno clubs (is that what they're called?) he hates commercial music cuz it just gets so repetitive
ideal vacation destination: somewhere isolated
like a random island in greece
or some forest in south america
idk man
he absolutely hates tourist destinations, tourists are his no.1 worst enemy
that's why you always end up going on holiday at random times of the year
"hey love, take a few days off next week. we're going to bora–bora." "it's the middle of march..." "not in bora–bora." "that's not how it works..." "i've already bought the tickets and spoken to your boss so you really just have to start packing."
now about pet names
he generally doesn't like them and thinks they're cringe and annoying
which they can be if used excessively ig
he tends to call you by a nickname or just your name
he only uses pet names when he wants something or has something to tell you that he knows you'll be angry/annoyed about
like the fact he planned a whole trip to bora–bora in middle of march and didn't tell you a thing 😞
however, if you're open about how much you hate him doing things without involving you he will change his ways
he's a quick learner after all ❤️🔥
#forgot to post this like a month ago but i finally scrolled all the way down my drafts#so here you go anon#you a real one for not complaining abt me taking 283597 years to post this 😭#sae#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#sae itoshi fluff#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi imagines#sae itoshi headcanons#sae x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock x you#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk#bllk headcanons#bllk anime#bllk sae#blue lock sae itoshi#blue lock fluff#blue lock sae#bllk imagines
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Murder Family Shenanigans
"I need to meet this Jeremy." Will declared.
"Will. Darling. They are six. They are just kids. They believe it's a game."
"Then he will break her heart because it's a game?"
" Break her heart? Do you hear yourself?They are six."
"If they are six then why do we have to go through stuff that is supposed to happen in 10 years? I was not prepared for my six year old daughter to announce she has a boyfriend. What do we know about his family? You said you researched the history of each of Lizzie's classmates."
"I did even more than that. I befriended every parent. So Jeremy...which Jeremy in fact? There are three different Jeremy's."
"What?"
"H., M. or W.?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know? Would any of them be an issue?"
"One of them comes from a vegan family."
"Are you serious?"
"Absolutely. I would not joke about that." Hannibal said, entertained by Will's distress. "Worst case scenario: his parents would be serial killers. And that's an unlikely scenario."
"His parents might think the same thing about us actually. And turns out it's a likely scenario. Anything else to add?"
"We can always ask Lizzie which of the Jeremy's is her boyfriend?"
"Don't call him that."
"Honey, if we fail to be supportive about her first relationship then she will never trust us again and she will end up dating all sorts of tattooed junkies. And you know I am not cooking tattooed individuals."
"Alright, I am calm. I am supportive. No tattooed junkies."
Will and Hannibal headed towards Lizzie's room.
"I beg you to let me do the talking." Hannibal whispered when they were right in front of the door.
"What? You think I'm incapable?"
"No, it's just that you are... A bit on the edge."
"Rude." Will said and opened the door, to find Lizzie focused on a coloring book.
Hannibal followed Will closely behind.
"Which Jeremy?"
Hannibal slapped his own forehead.
"What?" Lizzie asked as she lifted her gaze from her coloring book, her attention being now on her dads.
"Your boyfriend from school." Hannibal explained. "We are curious which of the Jeremy's you meant."
"He is not from school."
"So we know nothing about him." Will whispered as he turned to Hannibal.
"Where did you meet him then?" Hannibal asked.
"Here."
"Here where?"
"Here. In my room."
Will gripped Hannibal's arm in distress. He was not sure whether the confusion he was feeling or Hannibal's composed attitude was more annoying. And now the bastard was smiling.
"Lizzie, is your Jeremy by any chance invisible?" Hannibal asked.
Lizzie nodded. "He is shy. I am the only one who can see him."
Hannibal turned to Will.
He let out a sigh of relief and let go of Hannibal's arm. "So he is not from school so from outside our house."
"No. He lives in my room."
"That is wonderful, darling." Hannibal wanted nothing more than to pull Will out of the room so he could properly make fun of him.
"Wait, did you think he was one of my classmates?" Lizzie asked before they could leave.
"Yes." Hannibal replied.
"But dad, you told me to stay away from Jeremy because his parents don't eat meat. I was not sure which of the three Jeremy's I should stay away from. So I don't play with either of them just to make sure." She explained and returned her attention to her coloring book.
"Really, Hannibal? They are six." Will scolded him. "Your dad was worried about your relationship, that's all. I tried telling him there is nothing to be worried about."
Will knew that as soon as they would leave the room his life would be in danger because of his last comment.
#murder family shenanigans#hannibal#hannigram#hannibal lecter#will graham#hannibal nbc#hannibal fanfiction
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I am tired of Sydney being a “knight in shining armor” for these immature men
The trailer of s3 made me reflect on a big problem with the show for me so far. The use of Sydney on the plot overall and in the character arcs of men. This is a rant, if you happen to be on the side of the fandom that think these men are perfect and Syd is valued as their support, feel free to scroll.
Part 1: the woman
Sydney Adamu is insecure on her leader/social skills and her creative habilities. That, and her kindness, is what makes the audience root for her. She is releatable but most important she is real, she has taken it impulse by impulse, creating on the fly ways to succeed in a industry not very welcoming to people with her personality (or that look like her). All of that makes sense in a story of an underdog.
But yet, the show has normalized at this point how much shit she takes from a group of really emotionally immature people. And how much they expect her to figure it out answers to the problems that they themselves cause.
Thinking about it like an animal getting into a new pack without the capacity to defend herself from any attack. The shitshow she tolerated in s1 has never been properly addressed and it seems like the worst storm is yet to come in s3. She fixed the logistics of the beef and implemented a hierarchy. Things that Carmy was incapable of doing due to his story with the staff and his own mental turmoil. In s2, she was the only professional chef actively making decisions and efforts in the future of the restaurant. Carmy even reprimanded her for not making the decisions he was supposed to do. And she reminded him “you wanted the final say, this is on you)
Syd is not helpless in any way, but she has applied kindness and fairness most of the time to this point, and I wonder if this time that is gonna cut it. I am mostly tired to get her back to that scenario again. If anything, the part that got me the most excited of Richie’s redemption is how she could actually rely on him. And then it came the trailer.
Part 2: the men
The part that got my blood boiling in the trailer is the response “Show me a functional one” from Richie and Carmy.
We are in season 3, and with all the growth and all those balls, these men seem to expect her to fix an issue, wich core is actually their own emotional immaturity. I am sick of it. “Mother, maid, therapist”🎶
She must deal with Carmy’s recklessness and the fight between him and Richie. A very green new staff and a unqualified old staff mostly. All of that creates the dysfunctionality in question, and I wonder where her character will go to resolve it. The restaurant had a shaky base (particularly on front house staff and line cooks) and now Carmy is getting on everyone’s nerves. Putting fire to an already unstable chemical.
Part 3: Heroine’s Journey
It would take a pro to resolve all of this shit, and the people involved (and responsible for the problem) turn to this young, inexperienced woman for guidance and answers because the only person in the kitchen with actual industry experience is trapped in his own destroying tendencies.
That is not only the underdog story that is human vs forces of nature, another common plot structure. Forces of nature incarnated in unstable men and our hero is a woman. That is so fucked up and yet so real. That is the value I give to this scenario.
I really don't think that, besides Tina and Nat, there is a single member if that kitchen aware of how much Syd was alone last season picking Carmy’s slack. And even they were barely able to help her. Everybody else was to happy for Carmy loosing his virginity apparently. All this scenario could very well repeat itself this season on how much they are insisting on Claire and Carmy getting back together.
I know the show is about leaving toxic cycles and the people who can help you get better. Sydney is supposed to be made from a different matter than the Bearzattos because otherwise, the toxicity will continue. I just wish she could coldly let them know how much of a pest they can be sometimes. And not be treated as unfair because she left her “role” in creating a new system. Anger is boundarie setting emotion and it can be very constructive, and expressed without the chaos of the Bearzattos. She did this in s1 and if done again I think this time the general audience (except the racist/misogynistic obviously) will understand that this tough love is necessary as well.
Let's not normalize (in this show) women taking shit to be good women and a reward for seeing the potential of men. It is not like society is not doing that for us already.
Sydney is not a punching bag, and she knows it, she definitely will stand her ground this season, wich can be very encouraging to young woman entering a workforce that is not designed to support them. I think she will go to Ember to work closely with Chef Terry (Olivia Coleman) to get knowledge of how women can shape this toxic places. It will be her version of forks. The toxicity may escalate to a turning point for her. She tolerated (and transformed) s1 and s2, we know what is in her heart. The point will definitely come, because this is the time for evolving or dying, for everyone.
But again, I need these men (besides you, Marcus, you are going to be her rock) to start taking responsibility for the shit they are fucking up. That would be nice. I am sure there will be moments of it since this growth is literally the show's theme. I am just kind of tired of the “Mother, maid, therapist🎶” undertone of it all. It could be applied to Nat and Tina as well.
#sydney you are my champion#we are rooting for you#sydney adamu meta#the bear meta#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto#the bear#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy x sydney#carmy the bear#sydney x carmy
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"Extremophile" 4/4
Part 3 of ocean depths
Summary:
You drown every minute, every second, with every breath you take. You haven’t breathed for so, so long. The icy waters are inside you, deep, deep inside you. All you could ever feel is cold and colder. You haven’t seen the sun in... so... long. It was so far away from you that you couldn’t even picture it anymore. And here was the sun himself. Here was that gasp of air that burned. You’ve been so cold for so long, the warmth feels like death. — Alt summary: It's not easy but boy do I drag Killer (and everyone around him) kicking and screaming towards a healing arc
Chapter 4: "it gets better" 4892 words
Credits, warnings and additional info on ao3.
—
“No.” Killer immediately answered, before they’d even finished with the proposition.
Dream sighed. “Okay,” he accepted easily, like he’d been expecting the response.
“Why not?” Night bulldozed over him, frowning. Interesting. It seems he wasn't one to back down from a stance.
“Well, for one,” Killer leaned back in his seat. They’d occupied the living room for this little chat, since all three of them could sit somewhere. There were additional seats now, not just the couch. “It won’t prove anything about your little experiment. Dream influencing me to have emotions isn’t me having emotions,” he pointed out.
“But it could help,” Night argued. More and more, he seemed to be finding his voice around Killer. It was funny to watch. Like a grown lion slowly comprehending it wasn't a baby kitten.
“Not really, I don't think so,” Killer inspected his nails, just hoping to rile him up further.
“Then why not?” Night crossed his arms, back straight. “Why not try it? You lose nothing,”
Killer mimed rolling his eyes. “It's stupid,”
“And?” Night pressed.
“It's annoying,”
“And?”
“I don't want him to touch me,” Killer growled.
“That’s fair,” Dream reasoned, trying to mediate between them.
“No, I don't think that is quite all,” Night placed his hands on the table. Why was he so hung up on this of all things? “I think you're scared.”
...
...
...Oh?
“Bold words for someone within knifing distance,” Killer warned, voice low.
“We are both aware you can hurt me worse than a mere stabbing,”
Ohohooo, little Night-night grew some balls? What a fascinating development! Killer wondered what the reason for it was? Was he finally snapping? Oh he really, really hoped so. Or maybe he simply finally understood Killer was nothing but a terror! It was about time, really.
Killer grinned wider.
“Oh really?” he purred, “How cute,”
“Yes,” Night crossed his arms again. “I think... I think you're full of shit.” oh naw, was he losing steam? Was that hesitation there? But they were just getting started!
“Uh-huh?” Killer tried to stoke the flames. “What, you’re going to tell me how I actually feel baby? Or maybe just force it onto me? We both enjoy that,”
“No,” Night parried him easily. Maybe he was getting used to the verbal assault, though Killer knew it must still hurt. “However...” Night hesitated.
“Come on, spill it alreeadyy,” Killer prodded him.
“...You’re scared, Killer,”
Killer barked a laugh. So he really was going to claim that?
“You are,” Night gained some confidence, getting to his feet. “You rave about power and strength and yet you are– you–”
“I’m what.” Killer grinned wider, pushing himself up from his lounge to sit up properly. His gaze pinned on Night.
Night’s expression scrunched up.
“Come on, don't be shy,” Killer leaned against his palm, “Talk sweet to me, like you did before,”
Night stiffened, cringing at the comparison to his corrupted self.
“What’s it gonna be this time? I’m annoying? Lowly? Am I disgusting or just right for you, Mr. Despair?” Killer teased sweetly.
“...You’re a coward,” Night dared to say, swallowing. “And you are abysmally incapable of self-reflection.”
Killer let out a rolling laugh, loud.
From the corner of his vision, he saw Dream was watching this all unfold, tension in the way he sat. Unsure if he should intervene or not. Killer couldn't decide which would be more fun. But for now, he only had eyes for Nightmare.
“Oh really?” Killer got up as well.
“Yes.” Night stood in place.
“Want to know what I think?”
Night’s resolve faltered minutely. “What? I– yes? Yes–”
“I think,” Killer walked towards him slowly. Sorry not sorry Dust, but the house may get thrashed in about two seconds. “That you’re projecting,”
“I’m not–”
“I think you loathe yourself,” Killer cut him off. “I think you loathe all of what you did for hundreds of years, and most of all the fact that you enjoyed it. Sure! You or your twinsie or whatever can argue it wasn't you, but you remember it oh so clearly, don’t you?” he stalked closer, a blade materialized in his hand.
Night, to his credit, didn't cower away now. He stood in place with his back ramrod straight and his arms pinned to his sides, but eyes not moving from Killer’s. A set expression on his face. How commendable.
“You remember the blood on your hands. You remember speaking the commands,” Killer drilled in the point. “It was born from you,”
He wasn't going to buy the whole ‘the corruption was a parasite of pure negativity that took control of Nightmare and destroyed him on the inside’. That was a goddamn cop-out. If Killer didn't get to pin his actions on Chara or the Player, then why the hell should Nightmare get to?
“And I think you want to believe so badly that I can be good,” Killer continued, “because you wish for your life to not be so abysmally hopeless. You’re desperate for it to be true that anyone can change,” he was so close now. He pressed his blade under Night’s chin.
He heard a swift shuffle, but Night raised a palm to his side. Dream must've gotten up, likely to interfere. But it seems Night wanted this personal matter resolved intimately.
“You are the coward, baby,” Killer crooned, staring him in the eyes with his own Void-filled ones. “You are the one deluding yourself you can be good when all you're good at is being horrid. And you hate yourself for it.”
Night swallowed. Emotions were swimming over his face, each miniscule movement crystal clear to Killer with their proximity.
Night breathed in. Breathed out. It trembled, but didn't get snuffed out.
“...Maybe that’s true.” he reasoned, audibly doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Maybe I even believe it–”
“It’s not–”
“But,” Night pushed onwards through Dream’s immediate rebuttal. “That doesn't make what I said incorrect. Because... because I did spend... years ruining people’s lives, and you did as well, and there’s one thing I can claim,”
He held Killer’s ever-blackened glare.
“Well?” Killer prompted.
“It is... so much easier to destroy.” Night stated emphatically. “You parade your violent attitude around, claiming strength, but the reality is, you cannot even fathom how to do anything but hurt. You shrivel away from any shred of happiness or love because you are incapable of preserving it. You are weak.”
The silence rang between them.
...How... manipulative. Killer would be delighted if he wasn't so–
Slowly, Killer was pushing his knife in and in. Until he could feel the resistance of bone against the tip. Right where Night’s throat was.
If he leaned closer, he would be able to feel Night’s heavy but measured breaths. They stared at one another. Blackened despair dripping from Killer’s eyes, on the floor between their feet where it faded into the ether.
A rubber band being pulled more and more taut. Until you could only watch in trepidation, wondering when is it going to snap? When, when, when?
Killer chuckled low.
But it seems Night hadn't quite said all he wanted to.
“I know you attacked Dream when you felt his aura passed through the physical connection of an embrace,” he spoke, a little quieter. Did he soften?
Killer wanted to take that softness and rip it to bloody, gorey pieces. He wanted to give the walls and floor a fresh new coat of paint in the shade of Night’s blood. He hated these damn twins to the bottom of his soul.
“I know you've felt nothing but bad for... for so, so long, I know that because Corr– because I was responsible for it for so, so long. I intentionally kept you at your lowest possible point, Killer, and– I know you care not for my apologies so I will hold them for later–” Night continued on and on, “I– I intentionally took advantage of you at your most vulnerable. But you can be– you are more than that.” Night slowly lifted a hand. “Your suffering does not define you.” his hand lingered, hesitant, halfway raised. Killer wondered what he’d imagined doing.
Killer slowly tilted his head. He wondered what would hurt Night the most.
Killer’s free hand shot up and grabbed Night by the collar. Night’s eyes shot wide, and he most likely expected Killer to start ruthlessly attacking, which Killer would've loved to do! But that was old news. Night was familiar with his routine now.
Instead you yank him forward and kiss him.
It’s rough, it’s loveless, and it’s short as Night shoves you away by the sternum.
You stare at his expression, wide-eyed and shocked and grasping to make sense of the action, and you start laughing in his face. Loud and cruel. Tar-like hatred streams down your face in rivulets.
“Ohhhohoo,” you snarl, breathless, hysterical, “that’s so mighty rich of you.”
Night just continues gaping at you. In a flash you rear back your hand and punch him straight across the face so hard he stumbles back with a yelp. He stands there, stunned, one hand pressed to the spot your knuckles connected.
“At least when you called me scum you didn't dare LIE to my FACE,” you sneer, hands shaking with the desire to take Night and rip him apart.
“I’m not lying!” Night raises his voice. “You have the capacity for it, I’m sure, you’re just– you’re too damn stubborn to even entertain–!”
“OH because you are SUCH a charitable man, a real miracle-worker! Or am I just a special case baby?!” you yell back, unable to stop the convulsions in your chest from your laughter. “You NEVER cared about me!”
“I DO!” Night finally screams at you. “I DO care about you, I-I don't know if I did before but I do, I do, I–” he breathes harshly, and you hope he is about to cry. “That is the SOLE reason I am doing any of this, I–!”
“I will NEVER forgive you!” you snarl, because you want to hurt him, you want to choke out any hopes he might have, anything he could gain from this. “I will lord every little bit of harm you caused over your head for eternity! I will stab you and kill you and RUIN YOU, believe me I will find a way!” you swear.
“I don't want your forgiveness!” Night yells. “I– I do– angel above I will do whatever is necessary to try and earn it but I will never demand that of you! I’m helping you because– because I genuinely believe you freaking deserve it, after everything you've been put through–!”
You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You hate him more than you have hated maybe anybody. You hate him so intensely it spills out of your brain and down your face, so intensely you choke on it.
“I hate you.” you let out a gutteral growl, all teeth and venom.
“You have every right to.” Night is shaking, but he stands his ground. Tears are building in the corners of his eye sockets but he still holds your hateful glare.
You despise him.
“But I still love you.”
...
...
...
Your ears are ringing.
The icy behemoth that is the ocean rages around you. A storm. Ravaging and merciless.
A leviathan. You can never even hope to go against it.
There is no hope. There hasn't been hope in such a long, long time.
Hope doesn't exist here. Hope is the sunshine above the surface. You have nothing but cold and drowning and darkness.
Hope doesn't exist for you. It can't. It– can't.
...
“...What?” hissed out, animalistic. Barely comprehending. The desire for violence screeching in your head, ricocheting around your ribcage and stabbing into your soul.
“I-I’m sorry,” Night whispers, eyes shot wide open. The lights in them small and quivering. “I– I didn't mean to– I would never put that on you– it isn't impo– I–”
You barely hear him. You barely hear him over the chorus in your soul demanding maim hurt rip apart destroy kill kill.
Night is a little mouse. A tiny minnow. Small and pathetic, nothing compared to the leviathan that was The Corrupted Nightmare. Night used to barely be able to look you in the eyes. Night always pulled away from you in fear.
Now, your soul is tearing itself apart in the frenzied need to execute.
Now, Night steps towards you.
“I’ll kill you.” you barely even hear your own words, airy and detached.
“...You like... you like chocolate,” Night speaks.
“I’ll kill you.”
“You’d read even a children’s book if it was all you could do to fill the silence,” another step forward.
“I am going to rip you apart.”
“You like playing rough with Dust, because you like someone matching you beat for beat without hesitation.” Night takes another step forward. Your magic is summoning itself, charged with heaps of violent intent. “You like the way he doesn't pull away in fear,”
You are trembling with the tension just waiting to be unleashed.
“You’re playful; you can't be bothered to listen to anyone, yet when ignored, you seek attention, like a cat,” another step forward. “You are deeply curious about how people’s brains tick–”
“I will spill your brain over the floor–” a row of blasters right behind you, their energy glowing like a readied gun. Like a spotlight on him. Or maybe a target.
“You laugh at your own jokes even when you find them unfunny,” he keeps speaking, “You are loyal to a fault even when you don't act the part,”
“You are delusional,” you snap, snarling and animalistic.
“Because you hate being alone.” another step forward. His voice is steady. He’s getting so close. “That’s why you came here to be with Dust. That's why you haven't killed me yet–”
“I will kill you–”
“Because, Killer, you love.”
It rings. You want to slam his head into the concrete floor over and over and over–
“You crave it,” another step forward. “But you are terrified. You lash out and you destroy everything around you because you are terrified of it being taken away.”
You’re shaking your head. You’re drowning in your own hatred and rage and violence. You want him to shut up. You barely know where you are.
...A hand ghosting over your face. Not daring to touch. So apprehensive. So gentle it shouldn't even be possible for it to exist in the same reality as yourself.
So close.
“But I told you,” spoken quietly. Intimately. Sincerely. “I’m not leaving you.”
.
.
.
...Arms wrap around you. You don't even twitch.
The embrace is gentle. The embrace is firm, in the way real things are. He didn't ask. You wouldn't have wanted him to. He knew that. He knows you. It's horrible. It’s terrifying. It hurts. It's real.
Your knife remains clutched in your hand.
When you raise it ever so slightly, the light reflects off the smooth metal.
For a brief second, you catch your own reflection in it. Dark and distorted. You haven't known who that is for a very, very long time.
You barely even breathe.
It’s silent. The hum of charged magic potent.
He doesn't pull away. He stays.
The point of your blade presses to his back. He surely feels it.
He doesn't even flinch. In fact, he holds you tighter.
...
“...I know it’s scary to be soft, because you could be hurt so badly,” he whispers. Soft. So close. So easy to trample and ruin.
You want to. You want to. You don't care about him. You hate him. You're not sure how those two could be simultaneously true.
“I know it’s scary to care about something, because it can be so easily ripped away from you,”
SHUT UP, you want to scream. You say nothing. Your magic is unstable and unfocused and erratic. Pulling itself apart at the seams.
(...are you even real?
...is any of this real?)
“...But you’ve never been the type to lose against fear.”
You're not sure if you're breathing. He is. He breathes, steady. Like he isn't scared of you. He holds you, tight and secure. Even as you press a knife to his back in a cruel promise. Both hands clutching the blade like you’ll fall into the abyss if you let go. You watch your own eyes in the reflection of the metal.
He knows you better than anyone. He doesn't let go of you.
It–
You–
...
...It’s...
...nice.
...You watch your own eyes in the metal of your weapon.
...Since when... were there lights in them...?
(Sunlight against the surface of the water. So far above, and yet, it's there, it's there, it's there. It's real.)
“Come on,” Night whispers, “hug me back.”
It's not a request. It's not a command, either. It’s...
The silence in your mind rings and rings and rings so loud. Endless empty caverns. Ruins. Dark and abandoned. No direction of your own.
That’s what it is. It's... direction. It's instruction. It's purpose.
It’s a desolate universe. It’s a hand held out and an offer to join him.
Drowning, you are weightless. You are untethered. It’s been so dark you lost track of up and down.
This...
Your hands twitch. You slowly let go of the magic. The constructed blade dissipates.
This is an anchor. This is something to hold onto when nothing feels real.
Something to grasp.
Something new.
You move your arms that don't quite feel your own. You wrap them around him, hesitant and untethered. You wrap them tight and desperate. You hold on.
You hold on.
(And you breach the surface of the water.
And you take a desperate breath.)
—
.
.
.
Dream did not interfere, because his brother asked him not to. Even if it became dangerous, they both needed this, clearly. And he was... working on his relationship with Night. He had to trust Night and allow Night to trust him in return.
He was still reeling from the shock of everything that happened. From the other two’s argument, to the kiss, to– to this–
Just... watching them hug. In the middle of the room. It felt surreal. Killer and Night, hugging, willingly.
And to top it off? To top it all off?
Just for a split second. Amidst the culmination of their fight. Dream swore he saw Killer’s soul flicker in the shape of–
Dream blinked rapidly, as Night’s head turned ever so slightly towards him. Wide-eyed, mouthing what do I do?!
Dream stifled a laugh. Don't laugh. Night was probably triple-shocked about how all this went down. Many, many jaw-droppers, haha.
His own shock was slowly morphing into something fluttery and warm.
Dream gestured to the couch in a silent suggestion.
He watched Night take a breath.
“Killer,” he spoke up again, “ah, let’s, sit down?” he offered. Then reconsidered, “Killer, sit down, come on,” he instructed. Because... apparently that worked much better with Killer. Apparently that's what Killer needed.
Which... wasn't what Dream had assumed? He thought after years of the Corrupted Nightmare’s iron-grip control, and considering Killer’s proclivity to doing whatever he personally wanted, he’d assumed that... Killer would revel in the freedom.
Apparently not! Apparently he’d been with Nightmare because he needed the control from the start. And then he withered without its support. Maybe... it was taken away too abruptly, after so long being used to a short leash?
Learning experience. Dream reminded himself he was not, in fact, a mind reader, and did not, in fact, know what’s always best. He pushed aside the sadness and disappointment and guilt for now.
(“What sort of example are you setting, sunshine?”)
...Dream carefully compartmentalized them to be processed later, rather than burying them entirely.
He watched Night maneuver Killer towards the couch where they could sit. Still hugging. With the way Killer’s hands clutched onto the back of Night’s capelet, they would probably be at it for a while.
Night didn't seem to mind. He began gently rubbing Killer’s back in return. Was Killer upset? It was often difficult to tell with him. It's not like Dream got a screen that spelled out the category of whatever emotions everyone was feeling, he had to parse it on his own.
...It was really nice to see them like that. It made Dream smile sincerely. He really felt happy for them. So happy. Satisfied with the massive amount of progress they made with Killer. Proud of Night for handling it. Just really dang happy with the end result of all this.
Obviously, Killer still had a long way to go. Dream himself could attest that he, personally, was still learning and growing as a person, and he’s been alive for much longer. But this... felt like a turning point. It felt hopeful.
...For just a split second, he’d seen Killer’s soul take the shape of a monster’s. And he knew Night saw it too.
...Haha. Maybe they won the bet.
—
.
.
.
Dream asked if they needed him to stay. Night shook his head.
Dust passed by. Stared at them. Questioned, tentatively, what's going on. With similar hesitation, Night summarized he... may explain later. Dust left them be.
And now it was just the two of them. Killer still neither moved nor spoke. Night was slowly concluding that maybe, once again, he needed to be the one to initiate.
It felt... hm. Counterintuitive, for one. Uncomfortable, too. To tell Killer... what to do. It made some traumatized part of Night start screaming and blaring the alarms, insisting he was just like his old self, he was causing harm, he was horrid–
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
He’s been... working on it. Dream has been an incomparable pillar of support and help in the process. Night constantly had to convince himself he wasn't abusing Dream’s kindness. His brother was also high on the list of ‘People Corrupted Nightmare Hurt The Most’. Very high.
...And so was the skeleton still holding onto him. It was– hm. It was... ah. Well.
Night just had to ‘grow some balls’. As that whole rant from earlier hopefully showcased, he did know Killer quite well. He knew Killer sneered at those he deemed weak, that he idolized and respected strength. So with strength Night approached. He knew Killer needed direction, like an anchor to hold onto when his head was a mess.
(He used his knowledge of Killer to manipulate him into what he thought was good for him–)
So Night gathered up his guts once again. This whole fight would be... extremely heavy to process no doubt, but not right now.
He tapped Killer’s back gently. They've been at this for... a while now. Not that Night was displeased with that!
“...Can we... talk, now?” he asked, still gentle. Because with everyone else, Night must be gentle. He wanted to be gentle. He wanted to be a thing that cared and nurtured and fixed and loved, because he’d been denied that for... what felt like millennia.
But that’s not quite what Killer needed right now. Not in that way, at least. He wasn't the type for meek love.
Night cringed. Agh, love. He... really hadn’t meant to let that slip. Hnggh.
(...The one person. The one person beside his own brother who cared about him even at his worst.)
“Killer,” Night rephrased, “Let’s talk,”
Killer’s first sound post-breakdown was a discontented grumble where his face was buried in Night’s shoulder. Typical. Night huffed in amusement, patting his back as though in comfort.
“Yes, the world is terribly cruel,” he sympathised, “if you want a hug so bad, I promise you more later,”
(Because he knew teasing Killer for being affectionate would get him to let go, to put distance. Manipulative–)
“Tch,” Killer scoffed, hands finally loosening, pulling away. He didn't get up and leave, though. He didn't stab or throw attack magic. Didn't even sit further away from Night. Just disbanded the hug and crossed his arms, looking at Night expectantly. “Well?”
Night stared, once again stupefied. Because–
...The Corrupted Nightmare had toyed with Killer’s mental state many, many times. Had handled his soul in the most cruel ways, had always kept him from any sort of healing or recovery or change.
...
...Killer’s eyes were... it was nice. To see the lights in them. It was... such a lovely sight.
“Well?” Killer pressed, snapping him back to the moment. Still waiting for a reply.
I’m sorry immediately came to mind, but unfortunately, as much as Night meant it, it wouldn't be productive. Are you alright? was a good contestant too, but would likely receive the same amount of defensiveness and apathy.
“I... the rest aside, I did mean what I said. I wouldn't demand anything of you,” Night clasped his hands in his lap in order to not fidget. “Not forgiveness, not kindness not– not love,”
“You wouldn't get any of that even if you did demand it,” Killer leaned back in his seat, a lot more comfortable than Night felt. Perhaps uncaring. A neutrally amused expression on his face.
(So much more expressive with the eye lights.)
“Right.” Night nodded, keeping himself composed. “If you’d prefer, I won’t–”
“I don't love you,” Killer cut him off, speaking light-heartedly. It hurt. Many things that he said hurt. It was also true.
“...I know–”
“I can't love you,” Killer inspected his nails, and Night watched the miniscule twitches of his eye lights, “not like other people do,”
Night blinked slowly. Frowned.
“...I know,”
“But if you ditch me, I am going to hunt you down,” Killer hissed, grin widening, “and I am going to ruin you.”
Night choked down the surprised laugh that bubbled up in him.
“...Deal,” he was trying not to smile.
“And I refuse to go all... soft and pathetic like you,” Killer insisted.
“I... didn't expect you to,” Night agreed. He held no beliefs that Killer was a saint of some sort. He was all too willing to do horrible things. But Night’s heard these things progress with time and effort. He wanted to believe that.
“Great,” Killer stretched, “Now you should give me a damn way to call you, it’s always you idiots who come here, what if poor ol’ me was sad?” he complained, and again, Night had to hold back a laugh and just grin.
“Wouldn’t want that,” Night nodded along.
“And one billion gold and five chocolate cakes,”
Night couldn't hold back a snicker. “Obviously,”
Killer threw his head back and groaned loudly.
“And here I thought you grew a spine!” he exclaimed. “Where's all that ‘Killer, you’re a coward and a jackass’ stuff from earlier?? That was fun!”
“I never called you a jackass!”
“That was your first mistake,”
Night muffled his escapeé of a laugh with a hand.
He felt all warm and fluttery. It was so, so rare to have chats like this with Killer. Where it felt... semi-normal. And fun.
...Instead of like an abuser and his enthusiastic victim with Stockholm syndrome.
Night’s enjoyment dimmer. He inhaled, and then let it out.
“...Killer–” he hesitated. The idea made discomfort squirm in him, but it was the right thing to do. “...Do you... want... your soul back?” Night offered quietly, keeping his eyes on the low table in front of the couch.
It wasn't about the bet anymore. It never felt right to keep Killer’s own soul away from him. Never. Every moment, Night was gnawed by guilt. But he knew what would happen if he returned it to its owner. And he was selfish, because he really, really didn't want that to happen. It was like a made-up philosophical dilemma that he was stuck in, which wasn't meant to have an answer in the first place. And yet here he was, living exactly that reality, and needing to answer it.
He expected a moment of silence. He expected... he wasn't sure what he expected. A hopeless part of him expected for that argument to have changed nothing. For Killer to say yes, to take it and–
“Hm, well, I felt quite a lot of hatred there,” Killer hummed performatively, tapping his chin. Eyes looking up and to the side in faux contemplation. “And that is very far from numbness, don't you think, O mighty Lord of Negativity? Some consider that to be the other side of love’s coin,” he joked, voice low. When Night’s eyes flicked to him, he was grinning sharply.
Night’s jaw worked as he tried to puzzle how to respond. Floundering. Caught off guard.
Because Killer didn't care about being fair. If he had a way to win, he would take it. He was made from twisted code.
And yet here he was.
Turning down Night offering to let him win. Just like that.
Night stared at him.
Killer stared back with those no-longer-empty eye sockets. They made it all feel so much more tangible, like reality was finally in focus.
“...Oh.” is all Night managed to reply with, quiet and soft. Stricken and shocked and anxious and ecstatic.
“I’ll be waiting on those cakes,” Killer moved on, as if it was that simple, that easy.
It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Everything was still difficult and complicated to hell. They were both deeply damaged. Night was still trying to figure out how to even start fixing it.
...But now, maybe there was hope.
#undertale#undertale au#undertale aus#undertale multiverse#utmv#sanscest#killer sans#something new sans#nightmare sans#passive nightmare sans#dream sans#killer x nightmare#nightmare x killer#killermare#nightkiller#angst#angst with a happy ending#hurt/comfort#tw dissociation#tw self destructive behavior#tw arguing#fanfic#fan fiction#fanfiction#undertale fandom#sans au#daflangstlairdefanfic
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Walks in, people are really doing the “my white man has done nothing wrong in the narrative ever because he is autistic and autistic people can do nothing wrong actually” with Dungeon meshi
Read down below for my thoughts on people pulling this shit
Before I start, maybe pick up a book from school and practice how to read a narrative and learn content analysis,
it’ll really help because I don’t know what the hell else to say to people who are bad at reading subtext and putting context into practice at this point
I see the sentiment of “Kabru is actually evil because he actively murders people-“ as if the story isn’t actually like super nuanced and complex in its’ dynamics between races
and y’all can only really see a man that has personally gone through nothing but tragedy have a proper reaction to not having that tragedy handled properly and go “because he is a brown man he is inherently violent and therefore bad for my white man because of these story beats” with the type of stupid white person reaction.
The subtext went out the window huh, he gave the viewer ample context and reason as to why it happened he was going to kill the body retriever group, WHO WAS TRYING TO SAY TO HIM THAT THEY WERE GOING TO MUG HIM. AND KILL HIM AND SPLIT THE MONEY THEY MADE FROM GAMING A SYSTEM THEYVE BEEN EXPLOITING, WHICH HE DIDN’T DO.
Dying to monsters is one thing but someone like a retriever artificially upping the amount of people who die in a dungeon while also actively disrespecting the rules that the dungeon has by doing that fits perfectly into Kabru’s moral compass and motivation. Do you think that wouldn’t bother him? Sure, he has learning to do himself in regards to monsters and all, but do people really think he’s a monster actively incapable of change, when he’s stated in text that he believes himself to be a monster due to the things that have happened to him? Do you think he doesn’t blame himself and have survivors guilt from what he went through? Or do we think because Kabru lies and he warps and he cheats only to start realizing that the Kabru we’re shown doesn’t even know where he himself starts or ends. This is not trying to justify his actions. I am explaining his thinking. Of course He’d kill the retrievers.
And I think he would kill the Canaries if he had the chance to. I think the Retrievers were an active stand in for his feelings towards the Canaries.
When you build a life speaking lies after your previous status quo crumbles, how the fuck are you supposed to differentiate your own behaviors from the lies you grow into saying to make sure you don’t get close enough to people to be hurt as badly as he was as a kid. He is a sole survivor of a tragedy, and he reacts accordingly, and you all just want to antagonize him.
Did we forget who we’re talking about in comparison here, or are you guys that focused on justifying a man who clearly was used, exploited, and literally lost his mother because some group who thought themselves to be higher than due to their longer life cycles decided to destroy his whole life because it created a slight inconvenience
god you lot are truly fucking insufferable and can’t let characters be complex without woobifying or flanderizing them to be more digestible.
Let characters be complex.
You don’t have to like them all the time, You don’t have to agree with their actions.
You don’t have to agree with a character all the time for you to like a character’s writing.
#babble.com#dungeon meshi#laios touden#laios dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#kabru of utaya#Kabru#kabru dungeon meshi#can y’all shut up with your shitty ass fucking takes for a second#dunmesh spoilers#dungeon meshi spoilers#delicious in dungeon spoilers
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I’d just like to say that you and your comics about Lionblaze have made me care for him and his character more than canon ever could dream to, thank you. I never actually gave him much thought before and saw him as annoying, but now I’ve seen the possible potential he could have as a character because the booms just screwed up his personality, and I love seeing your Lionblaze content. I especially love seeing him as a med cat and him getting closer with Leafpool
Your comment means so much to me,,, I am so happy I helped you appreciate the Lionblaze,,,,
Canon did him so dirty by wasting his potential making him ''standard warrior main character''
The canon will give pieces of his personality, but all these pieces are so incredibly under-exploited and incomplete
As an example, him having moral OCD in PoT is genuinely a really good idea knowing the extent of his power, but they just throw this plotline under the rug in the next book (knowing that it's very hard to get rid of OCD lol) Like we see him losing it in the mountains, we see him going ballistic on Crowfeather and Heathertail. Lionblaze knows how dangerous he can be if he isn't always holding back in battle, and it scares him so bad he has vivid nightmares about killing his loved ones. I think it's the first real time in Warriors we had a main character who had the full potential of becoming a villain the moment he stops holding back. Like that's genuinely really good storytelling, and they just??? throw it away in the next book like it never happened????
This dude kills Russetfur, which should have been his worst nightmare becoming reality. That's it, he finally killed someone. Because for just a few seconds, he got so worried about his leader being attacked and probably killed that he stopped holding back. And yet this is less of a plot point than the obviously accidental death of Flametail. Like Jayfeather tries to save a cat who is drowning and is called a murderer during a Gathering, but Lionblaze who kills Russetfur in front of at least 20 cats, that's fine he was just being silly. Like the writers were writing Lionblaze like crap on purpose at this point they had completely given up on him lmfao
We also see his compassionate and empathetic side shine a few times, mostly when he is the one who forgives Squilf and Leafpool the easiest and the fastest. Lionblaze idolizes Brambleclaw and shows a genuine affection for his dad several times and it's genuinely wholesome. Lionblaze has a few really sweet moments with Leafpool and Squilf in OotS :) i cherish these scenes so much.......
He isn't perfect of course, far from it, he can be a douche (mainly to Heathertail, Breezepelt and Dovewing), he is hot-headed and doesn't think before he speaks or acts, he struggles to communicate properly, he often has a weird tunnel-vision in OotS and doesn't listen to Dovepaw's problems with the care it deserves. For most of PoT, despite going through some tough training as an apprentice and later as a newly made warrior, he is almost completely oblivious to the fact that his own mentor Ashfur as a personal beef with him. As someone with the autism rizz, Lionblaze's communication skills are just so autistic to me. This dude has almost no friends, even his ex-apprentice Dovewing isn't on very friendly terms with him (understandable because he was a bad mentor tbh), he feels safe only around his close family, and messes up almost every friendship and relationship he has because he is incapable of communicating properly. Him trying to date Cinderheart was just Lionblaze being absolutely incapable of understanding her point of view, and then proceeding to literally self harm by letting a ShadowClan massacre him to show Cinderpelt he could be harmed on his own will ?? Like what goes on in the Lionblaze's head ?? is he ok ???
Also they could have made him a medicine cat.... I yearn for the Lionblaze medicine cat plotline so much...... Lionblaze being so incredibly scared of hurting anyone again after his nightmares, or after killing Russetfur, that he just drops all the warrior duties and hides in Leafpool's den all day...... also Jayfeather could have been a warrior 100%, we clearly see him fight very well when he is in tandem with one of his siblings, he is capable of running on ThunderClan territory with no issues once he learned the layout, like there's so excuse anymore StarClan just wanted to ruin his life for entertainment
anyway
They could have done do much more with the Lionblaze.......
#answered#im so sorry i couldn't help infodumping on lionblaze#i cherish lionblaze so much#i know he sucks and he is just a trash character but that's my beloved trash character
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Love letters anyone?
It's been a while since I've written pretty much anything and I'm so sorry about it. I've had some great times (like the paralympics, a new cat, great restaurants with my friends, starting work again) as well as not so many great times (tiredness, RSD, the cats fighting, dysphoria, bipolar disorder making me depressive lmao)
But! Today on the bus I wrote a new letter! There is still prompts I need to write about but this one was on my mind. The game is simple, you can send me a word and I'll use it as an inspiration for a love letter from Tommy to Buck!
You can find the new letter on AO3 or after this ❤️
Disclaimer, Tommy is horny lmao
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My sexy as hell boyfriend,
The sounds you made last night still resonate on my mind. They are haunting me, not leaving a single space for any other thought. I am literally incapable to concentrate on anything but the memory of your moans on the silence of your loft. It makes me stupid really.
We waited and I am happy that we did. But I can be honest with you now: sleeping next to you, seeing your beautiful body, being able to touch and kiss it, all of that while restraining myself to fuck you properly has been hell. You have been my personal little hell since we met. Do you know how hot you are? Making me burn with each word, each smile, each whisper. Flames destroying not only my mind and my heart, but my guts too.
Of course you know, the size of your jeans are really telling, Evan. I ask myself sometimes if you do it to make me weak, to make my mind shut down.
Do you want me to die of lust?
Do you have any idea what effect you have on me?
Do you find it funny to make me horny in public space?
Today I asked to stay on the ground. I cannot imagine being up there, not when I already touched the clouds with you. I always loved flying you know. And as much as I also loved sex, the sky has always been my favorite place on earth.
But now I'm here, thinking about you. About being in your arms, both naked, on a bed. No matter which bed, which home, which lifetime. As long as I'm with you.
This shift might be the hardest of my life sweetheart. Because you are everywhere I look, and nowhere I can touch. And only remains the absence of your warmth around my cock and the want. This voracious want.
I'm on my bunk bed, writing on my phone while all the others are sleeping. I'm pretty sure I'm blushing in the dark, nervous they would wake up and find me in a compromising state. I feel so dumb you know, like some horny teenager. It's the first time I actually write the word cock on a letter. Because yes, I will rewrite all of this on paper when I'll get the chance to. But I couldn't wait, couldn't risk losing this thing you make me feel.
I couldn't risk not to remember everything I'm thinking right now. Because you need to know, Evan, how you make me alive again.
Thinking about my mouth on your mouth,
Tommy
Tagging the friends ❤️
@searching-for-the-moon @herrmannhalsteadproduction @johanna-swann @captainwitharedstar
@goldenhxurs @girlwonder-writes @desert--moonchild @kinardsevan
@kinkley-are-adorkable-flirts @bangpop91 @v88sy @theotherbuckley
@rdng1230 @thatmexisaurusrex @judymarch15 @leandra-winchester
#911 abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 show#tevan#911 tv#911 on abc#kinley#wip#love letters#911 fanfic#911#911 fox#firepilot#firebeast#kinkley#buck x tommy#evan x tommy#ao3#911 ao3#ao3 link#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#writeblr
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