#i apologize for the open ending

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Oh Skinzun, we're really in it now...

[pineapple-frenzy]

For your post finals art request, how about something from your Zutara scars au? Maybe Zuko gently kissing the scars on Katara's hands, with Katara looking absolutely flustered.

Thanks for your consideration and time.

I love soft scar kisses so much, I hope you don’t mind that I added a touch of angst to this

I saw something recently that was like what if Zuko thinks he’s the one that burned Katara’s hands, and I really like the idea so I wanted to incorporate it into this au. So here’s a little comic about Zuko apologizing for burning Katara’s hands (which he did not) insipired by your request :>>

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x01 - Years

[inkly-heart]

please don’t be sad little sprout, you are loved 🌱 🖤

🌱

[royalarchivist]

I love the QSMP. Not only has it introduced me to many amazing international creators, it's also introduced me to the French and Brazilian community, who are so sweet, funny, and chaotic in their own unique ways. I love seeing fans sharing their culture and learning from one another, and I myself have learned a lot this past year. I think it's incredible how QSMP brings so many different people together – all of us united in our love and passion for this project and its goals.

But passion can often evoke strong emotions, and these strong emotions aren't always positive.

The past few months, I have seen multiple waves of hate, bad-faith generalizations of communities, and racist remarks directed at fellow fans – especially those who are part of the French / Brazilian community. This kind of behavior is inexcusable, and is in direct conflict with the mission of QSMP, which is to break language barriers and unite communities.

We are a global community with a variety of people from different backgrounds. Miscommunications may occasionally occur because of cultural differences and/or language barriers, but we should use these moments as opportunities to learn and engage with other people rather than assuming the worst about them and starting fights.

Although certain issues can be resolved with communication, sometimes it’s better to block and move on. Avoid spreading negativity or hate, and save yourself the headache of interacting with people who are just looking for someone to argue with.

No matter what community we're a part of or what languages we speak, we're all here to have fun. Please remember to be kind to each other. We have more in common than we have in conflict.

[chloecherrysip]

"C'mon, Luigi! Pump those legs!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying. I got bad knees!"

[daily-beast-wirt-brainrot]

Opinion on ghosts?

[Day 21] I have mixed feelings about them to say the least..

[gomzdrawfr]

content warning: blood, gun, violence, ommetaphobia (eyes), death

The Last Confrontation

"You think revenge will set you free, my child?" "You never changed, what a shame" "In the end, you still ended up like me"

lore below if you're interested:

warning ahead: graphic depiction of violence, mentioned of suicide, abuse and manipulation

This animation is about the last major chapter of Raven's story, in which she faced her adoptive father and kills him off once and for all.

Backstory time!

Raven grew up in an orphanage that was eventually burned down. She survived by hiding under a hatch, emerging later to find everything reduced to ashes. As she stepped out, she came face to face with a masked man, Viktor. He was dressed in black and wore silver owl and green jewel rings, which stood out against his dark attire

Viktor, the dangerous owner of the Cobra PMC, had grown bored with life. On a whim, he adopted Raven—choosing her because she resembled him with her black hair and feral glint, the girl was pale and malnourished, yet not lifeless

He was captivated by the sight. His plan wasn’t out of love or care; rather, it was a curious experiment. He wanted to see what it would be like to raise a child. Raven, who had only known suffering from growing up (abandoned + abused in the orphanage) didn’t question it. Being with Viktor seemed like an improvement overall plus Archie (Viktor’s assistant, who frankly does like 90% of the upbringing) wasn’t terrible

A bird doesn’t know it is trapped in a cage if they have been born behind those walls.

a snippet of their first meeting:

Under Viktor's orders, Raven trained relentlessly, believing that he wanted her to become his heir, a daughter worthy of his legacy. She worked hard to prove she was worth the adoption, the money, the care–to prove she deserved to live. However, Viktor had no such intentions. Like previously mentioned, to him? Raven was merely an experiment. He raised her only to test her—and test her he did

He orchestrated the assassination attempt on her, using the Cobra PMC. Raven barely survived, watching in horror as she recognized Viktor among the mercenaries who tried to kill her. It was the ultimate betrayal

"How would you react to such a betrayal, sweet child?" 

Raven’s world was shattered. The long scar on her back became a constant reminder of how naïve and blind she had been. Every throb, every pain and every ache only fuelled the need for revenge simmered in her mind. Price was painfully aware of this, but could do nothing to stop her. Once Raven set her mind on something, there was no turning back

Timeline is a mess but just know that Raven confronted Vik before cod mw3

Viktor, of course, anticipated this. In fact, he wanted Raven to finish him. Why? Perhaps out of sheer curiosity, or perhaps due to something even more twisted. No one truly knows, not even his most trusted man, Archie, who soon followed in Viktor’s step and off himself as well

Archie asked once more, "come again, sir?" “I want her to kill me” Vik repeated once more, a wicked smile slowly stretching across his face as his gaze fixated into the nothingness. A smile etched and carried a twisted sense of satisfaction, or proud, no one can tell for sure.  “Want to see those brown eyes of hers go black” “Want to see it fully blown out…” He breathes, before placing the wine down, arms slowly raised up, gestures wildly.  “And god do I want to see those colours fade out again” Just like the day he first found her at the burned down orphanage, his first encounter with Raven. The memory of their first encounter played in his mind, like a film reel of a past he couldn't forget.  A small creature, messy black hair covered in ashes and soot, and big brown eyes that are devoid of any life, dare enough to look him in the eyes.  Her gaze was something he replays everytime he could.  Big and brown, held no desperation, no pleas – just an empty, captivating hazel brown.  “I’ll let her” “I want my blood covering her hands” “I want her face contorts as I laugh in her face” He let out a maniacal laughter, erupted from his throat, punctuating the silent room, shoulders heaving as he threw his head back.  He paused, voice dripping with sinister delight as he murmured.  “And may the last thing she sees is my smile as life slowly slips away from my eyes” 

Viktor's last few words were something she cannot forget no matter what

"In the end, you still ended up like me."

A killer who only knew violence was the answer, that death was the solution

And she hated how he was right, she pulled the trigger after all. What's worse? It didn't felt rewarding or satisfying to end it all (note hence's the way her fingers turned red during the animation, matching Vik's hand)

No it felt, empty, and it was unnerving

This revenge was something she planned for a very long time, tears, blood and sweat went into this only...for it have this outcome?

What now, Raven? more blood, more death?

She never got the closure she had hoped for

Well, no matter how uncertain she was about the future, at least she will not be threading this path alone

"Eira! Bloody hell you finally picked up your cell, stay here I'm coming over with the boys" "...you know where I am?" "Course I do, are you badly injured?" "...no not really, I have a lot of blood though, but they're not mine" "Alright birdie, just stay put—" "...hey, John?" "yeah?" "can we...get fries after this?" "*sigh* anything you want, luv" "thank you..."

[astriiformes]

Also I'm leaning heavily towards posting the trans Marty fics in chapters now, instead of as oneshots, and looking to maybe get the first chapter of the Doc-perspective fic up a week from today, since updating on weekends seems like a good plan.

Which is giving me the "I have been working on this project for four years and really hope people actually read it" jitters, so we'll see how that mixes with the emotional cocktail of the next week.

[dimonds456]

It is not okay to speculate whether or not someone is suicidal. If they claim to be, you should 100% take that shit seriously and give them the benefit of the doubt.

That said, if someone is using their own suicidality as a weapon to gain sympathy, emotionally manipulate someone, or to push other people down, GENUINELY fuck that person. While it's not okay for us to doubt that statement just because they're weaponizing it, that also doesn't mean we need to ALLOW that manipulation to convince us of something.

If you feel the need to use your terrible mental health as a step-stool in a conversation to make your side more heard than the other, you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself. And I am saying this as someone who ALSO has shit mental health and has been in the trenches with it before. I get it. I understand. But also STOP.

It's tempting to want to save your own ass over recognizing where you've gone wrong, but just a word of advise: recognizing where you've gone wrong WILL save your ass and give you better mental health and wisdom down the line.

However, emotionally manipulating people absolutely will not.

[amber-sekio]

One-Shot Prompt

Title: And if you can forgive, love will truly live PT: 2

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Dazai x Reader

Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’”

!Gender of reader is not specified!

A/N: I don't believe there are any major triggers in this part, correct me if I'm wrong though. Also, I feel like Dazai was very ooc which is partially why this took so long, of course, the main problem was writer's block

Word count is about 2.7k

Part 1 of And if you can forgive, love will truly live

Tag: @foulwaterss

Warmth. 

You pulled the person in your arms further into your chest. 

... 

Person? 

You opened your eyes, blinking rapidly as the morning sun pierced your eyes through the open curtain. 

As your vision adjusted you could make out a head of soft, fluffy brown curls tucked against your chest. 

The memories of the previous day, or rather night, seeing as you slept through most of the day, came flooding through your brain. 

Right. 

Dazai knocked on your door last night. 

Soaked to the bone from having likely walked to your place with no umbrella despite the fact it had been raining the entire day. 

And then... you let him in. 

A dangerous decision both for him with his new job and for you with the Mafia. 

But he listened to you, took a shower, ate most of his food, and he even let himself be vulnerable with you, choosing to forgo his bandages because he trusts you. 

You looked down at him as you brought your hand up to card your fingers through his hair, a smile pulling at your lips as he nuzzled into your chest. 

He reminded you of a cat. 

Cute. 

More like a black cat with all the bad things people thought of him. 

Either way, he was cute. 

Your smile turned bitter as the thought crossed your mind. 

Even after four years, you still had feelings for him. 

You sighed softly, letting your face relax, enjoying the soft moment before Dazai awakes and you have to talk about everything. 

You had almost soothed yourself back to sleep with the methodic movement of your fingers through Dazai's hair when Dazai finally began to stir awake. 

You watched as Dazai's eyes fluttered open slightly before he whined as the light hit his eyes, shoving his face half into your chest and half into the sheets. 

"Evil... leaving the curtains open just to blind me..." His voice was pitched with a whine yet rough from having just woken up. 

You chuckled softly. 

"Eh, the sun blinded me too when I woke up." You spoke up, your voice soft in the morning. "I would've gotten up but someone was busy nuzzling into me." You teased softly as you began running your finger through his hair once more. 

"What time is it?" He spoke softly into your chest. 

"I don't know..." You yawned softly. "I was about to fall asleep again before you woke up." 

Even without seeing his face, you could tell a smirk pulled at his lips. Seems like you still knew him pretty well. 

"Were you watching me sleep? How perverted~." He teased softly. 

"Oh shut it. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Of course, you know that though." 

Dazai hummed softly pretending to be unaware. 

"Oh~? Then what were you thinking, hm?"  

You stopped carding your fingers through his hair to reach down and lift his chin up, forcing him to look at you in the eyes. 

"Thinking about how much like a cat you were and how that made you cute." You spoke honestly and directly, not breaking eye contact. 

You watched in amusement as his still-not-fully-awake brain processed your words. A soft blush bloomed on his cheeks that steadily grew darker in color before he shoved his face back into your chest, whining softly. 

"Evil. Your evil." 

You laughed softly as you let him hide his face. 

"Like I said, cute." 

"Shut up." 

The conversation lulled after that, as the both of you took in the comfort of waking up in another person's arms, warm. 

"Do you want some coffee?" 

He hummed softly as he processed the unspoken words. 

'We need to talk about it.' 

"Sure" He spoke yet didn't move from the warmth of your body. 

You sighed as you ran your hand down his back before forcing yourself out of the warmth of your bed. 

"I'll call to you when the pot is done." You remarked as you walked out of your room toward the kitchen. 

You hummed softly as you waited for the pot to brew, your mind drifting. 

You knew roughly the reason behind Dazai's leaving but you still wanted to hear him explain his thought process. 

And, more than anything, you wanted to hear a damn apology. Not just for leaving you, but for leaving Chuuya, and for blowing up his car, because that was a low blow. Yet you also still understood his reason behind that action as well. A silent message to not follow, to not look for him. 

It would be nice if you could get Dazai to apologize directly to Chuuya, but you knew that it would be like trying to pull teeth. 

You were jolted from your thoughts as the coffee pot beeped at you. 

You methodically pulled out a mug and began filling it, leaving enough space for creamer. 

You blinked. 

Right. 

You reached for another cup, placing it on the island counter as you called out for Dazai through the silence. 

You began to fill his cup when you heard a thump from your room followed by what sounded like cloth against the floor. 

You looked up as you were about to start pouring creamer into Dazai's mug, you paused at the sight of Dazai being practically swallowed by the fitted blankets he had pulled from your bed. 

You chuckled softly. 

"It's cold. Stop laughing." He pouted, his lips pulled down in a way that only made you chuckle more. 

Cute. 

"How are you planning to drink your coffee with all the blankets on?" 

He didn’t respond as he walked, or rather waddled, over to a stool at the island counter. You finished pouring the creamer into his coffee as he maneuvered himself onto the stool with the blankets still practically swallowing him. You push the mug towards him as you take your own mug in hand. 

You watch as he brings up his hands, wrapped up under the edges of the blankets, to wrap around the mug. The blankets keep him from moving his arms much, so he has to hunch forward to take a sip of his coffee. 

“You know it’d be easier if you just took the blankets off?” 

“It’s cold.” A pout pulled at his lips again and a petulant whine left him. 

“I have jackets that should fit you.” 

“The blankets were right there though.” 

“More like you're just lazy…” You mumbled under your breath, sipping at your coffee. 

You cleared your throat. 

“So…” 

He didn’t speak up, but he glanced up at you from where he was hunched over his mug. 

“I… already know mostly everything with Oda…, but could you tell me what solidified your decision?” You asked, tone hesitant and unsure. 

You watched as he stared into his mug, worried he would try and avoid talking. He never did like talking about his problems. Not that you could talk, you were the same, preferring to simply enjoy each other’s company without ever talking about your problems. Of course, that was before he left, now you spent your time having a glass of fine wine with Chuuya. On those nights, typically, only Chuuya would talk, with you speaking up mostly to keep the conversation going. 

“There were… many reasons… behind my decision.” He paused; the silence awkward but he clearly was going to say more. “Odasaku’s… um…” He didn’t look up at you, but you could hear as he tried to hide the cracking of his voice. 

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You hummed softly as he struggled to find his words. 

“Right.” 

You sipped from your mug as you waited for him to continue. 

“Odasaku’s last words to me… he asked me to…” 

“I understand.” You didn’t want to force him to answer when you could put the pieces together yourself. “And the… other reasons?” 

He idly sipped at his coffee. 

“Well… before I continue, can I ask a question?” 

You looked up from your mug. 

“Um… sure, what is it?” 

He let out a sigh, it sounded tired. It seemed like he was forcing himself to ask you his question. 

Almost like he was scared of what your answer would be. 

He huffed out. “What is your opinion of me?” 

He didn’t look at you, gaze fixated on his own reflection from where he stared down at his coffee. 

You hesitated, not having expected his question. 

“My opinion of you?” 

You asked more to fill the silence, to allow yourself time to think about it. 

You knew that he could be cruel. 

You knew that he could be kind. 

You knew you felt an amalgamation of feelings towards him. 

You felt sadness, that he didn’t tell you anything. 

You also felt angry that he left, that he didn’t tell you cause you would’ve- 

You would’ve… 

You would’ve joined him. 

You would’ve left with him. 

Because you loved him. 

More than anything, you loved him. 

Despite everything, you still loved him. 

You let out a soft breath. 

Looking down at the half-empty mug in your hands. 

“Well… I know that you can be cruel, but I also know that you're capable of being kind, of caring for others. And I feel sad and betrayed that you didn’t tell me or leave anything for me to know what you were doing. Angry that you left me because…” You could feel a lump in your throat as you tried to force the words out. “Because despite that… if you had come to me that night… I would’ve joined you.” 

You looked up to find him staring at you with a shocked expression, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you found it cute. 

“After everything we’ve been through… I’ve seen your highs and lows, I’ve seen you mercilessly kill and torture, but I’ve also seen you with Oda and Ango, with Chuuya. And I… have never hated you. I’ve never thought you to be inhuman.” 

You paused. A gentle smile pulled at your lips. 

“I still don’t, Dazai.” 

“I-…” He looked almost on the verge of tears, and you felt compelled to rush to his side on the other side of the kitchen island and comfort him. 

“Well… the main reason I didn’t tell you, or Chuuya was because I was absorbed by my own view of myself… that I didn’t think anyone could possibly see me differently. Especially you… we were similar and so I figured your opinion of me was no different than mine. I believed that with how similar we thought that you must have hated me because-… because I hated myself.” 

He looked down at his mug, unable to meet your gaze. 

Your heart ached at his words. 

“Dazai…” You spoke hesitantly. “Dazai… what is your opinion of me?” 

He looked up at you. “My opinion of you?” He repeated your words back at you. 

His gaze shifted to the side as a soft pink tinted his cheeks. 

“I always thought of you as something of an angel. You were smart but quiet, stern as a mafioso should be, but you were also kind. You formed a connection with me similar to the one I have with Chuuya but different. You understand me in a different way. Like a guardian angel, you’ve stopped me from many of my suicide attempts, maybe even more than Chuuya has. When I watched you fight it was like I was watching an angel of death, bloody, but still pure in a way only you could ever achieve.” 

He stopped himself, looking up at you. 

You could feel your cheeks burning as he spoke, looking into your eyes. 

“I have always loved you. As undeserving as I am, I have always loved my guardian angel.” 

“I- you… love me?” You found yourself short of words as your brain tried to process that Dazai, who you have loved for longer than you would like to admit, loves you as well. 

As your brain finally caught up, the vibrant blush on your cheeks softened, and the smile that pulled at your lips was just as soft. 

Placing your mug down, you reached your hands across the island counter to grab his hands, pulling them from where the blankets were still wrapped around them. 

“I love you too, Dazai.” 

You watched as the blush on his cheeks grew a few shades darker. 

Cute. 

You dropped his hands as you walked around the island to stand next to him. He turns towards you, cheeks still vibrantly flushed. 

You reach out, your hand hovering over his lower cheek, prompting him to tilt his head up at you. 

“May I?” 

You could see as he swallowed, calming himself. 

“Only if we remain exclusive.” 

“And this remains secret.” You added, smiling at him. 

You let your hand rest on his cheek, bringing the other one up to rest on the back of his neck, still bare of bandages. You leaned down the rest of the way, connecting your lips with his. 

His lips were soft against yours, and the kiss was sweet. 

A soft sound akin to a whine left him as you pulled away slowly. You chuckled as he flushed, embarrassed by his own neediness. He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist as the blankets fell off his shoulders hanging off his waist. 

“Shut up.” His voice was slightly muffled from where he pressed his face against your chest. 

You laughed. “But I didn’t say anything~.” 

“I said shut up.” 

“You're even cuter when you're flustered, you know?” 

He whined into your chest, refusing to let you see his face. 

You stopped teasing him, letting the soft moment consume you in warmth. 

“I’m glad you're safe. He’d be proud of how far you’ve come.” 

The arms around you tightened and you could barely make out a sharp intake of air. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it comfortingly. 

“I know he would.” 

“I-… thank you.” 

A comfortable silence settled on the two of you for a few minutes as you held each other until Dazai spoke up, mumbling softly. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you and Chuuya…” 

“I forgave you a while ago, and while Chuuya would never say it out loud, he has as well, even if he’s still angry about it.” 

“I missed sitting on the dock with you.” 

“Those moments of serenity in between the chaos were nice.” 

“You have the day off, right?” 

“I don’t have work until tomorrow morning. Though, speaking of work, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” 

“Unimportant. Anyways we should cuddle and watch something.” 

You laughed joyously, your arms tightening around him. “Even after four years, you're still you, huh? I’m glad you’re more open though. Honest. I like being vulnerable with you.” You smiled down at him, moving the hair from in front of his face to behind his ear. “The light suits you, Dazai.” 

Dazai hid his face against your chest again, though you could tell he was flushed with how red his ears were. 

“I thought I told you to shut up. I demand you carry me to the couch now.” 

You scoff playfully. “What are you, a princess?” 

“Yes, and you must serve me.” He replied matter-of-factly. 

“Right.” You reached down with one hand to grab the blankets that had fallen around his waist, pulling them up around his shoulders and then wrapping them tightly around him. You pick him up effortlessly, chuckling as he lets out an involuntary squeak. 

You carried him over to the couch, laying him across your lap as you reached to grab the remote off the coffee table. 

“What shall we watch, Your Highness?” 

You watch as he thinks over your question before you notice a drop in his mood. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t like how good you’ve gotten at reading me.” 

You chuckle as he pouts. “I’ve always been good at reading you, I’m just choosing to mention what I see now. So, what’s up?” 

“Do you still have that watchlist we made when we were 17?” 

You smiled at his question. 

“Yeah, I never deleted it. And I don’t think I’ve watched anything from it.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Not that I’ve really had the time to anyway.” 

“Good. Pick something off of that then.” 

“No specific genre?” 

“Not really.” 

With a soft smile, you click into the playlist of unwatched shows and movies. You pick a random one and start it, more focused on the unguarded and genuine smile on Dazai’s face. 

It was nice. 

He was alive and doing better than before. 

Everything would be fine. 

And hopefully, you get him to actually apologize to Chuuya.

[ochrearia]

Have... No One?

I felt bad for doing that to YS last drabble and I actually can't read it without making my own heart hurt so I. Yeagh. Ofc it's Biff and YS mainly why is anyone surprised those are my boys. Boyf and Peacock come in at the end because I started feeling guilty over Biff favoritism

BFs in this one-shot: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), fc!BF (Boyf, Keyy's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), Yourself (YS)

YS hadn’t slept. The sun had come out now, filtering through the window shade. He hadn’t slept. Just cried to himself like a pathetic little thing, until all his tears were gone and nothing but emptiness was left. His eyes were blank, staring at the wall. Sleep wasn’t possible for such a hollow husk. At least he was used to the pain in his chest now. The cold, though, not so much. If he wasn’t careful he might actually do some damage to his body leaving it under the vent with the cold air on. But he wasn’t trying to be careful.

Need someone, have no one. Need someone, have… Biff?

When had he gotten here?

“Oh you poor thing, you’re freezing.” Biff dismayed, taking in the state of him. “You’re small, and cold, your hoodie is halfway across the room on the floor and you love that thing, what happened?”

YS could really only just look at him blankly. At some point last night he’d literally had a thought that he couldn’t isolate anymore like he used to, and somehow he’d still forgotten they could come through his mirror whenever they wanted. He could still just… vacate his apartment entirely but fate would have it that he’d never have the energy to when things got so bad.

“What happened?” Biff asked again, making his voice as gentle as he possibly could. “You look so empty, it scares me… Please, what’s wrong?”

I almost did something bad last night. YS’s inner voice worked, but that didn’t translate to actually speaking. Needed someone. Had no one. Still have no one…

He failed to notice that his microphone was blazing a gentle red again- she was awake and active, though what she was doing wasn’t immediately obvious.

“That’s not true.” Biff’s voice wavered, answering what should have been a voice locked to YS’s mind only. “God, that’s not true, you have someone, you have so many someones, I’m right here in front of you. Can’t you see me? I’m so sorry, I should’ve been here.”

Sleeping. YS countered. All of you, asleep and happy because nothing was obviously wrong. Not interrupting that.

“You’re freezing…” Biff brought up again, walking away slightly only to pick up the discarded hoodie from its place on the floor. “You love this hoodie to bits, why’d you take it off?”

Don’t deserve it. Made it out to be something that meant so much more than it ever did. Just a thank you gift. Nothing actually meaningful. No point in lying to myself.

“Nothing actually meaningful? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Biff seemed almost offended.

Gift from my… “brothers”. Convinced myself that it could mean I was loved. People don’t love me. I lost the only person who did and it was my fault. I’m far past the point of being loveable. I am made to care. I am not made to be cared for.

“You’re… you’re talking so much bullshit.” The smaller insisted, shaking his head. “Don’t say brothers like that, like it’s not real. You are my big brother. You’re a big brother to all of us and I could call every single one of us in the group chat right now and they’d confirm it. What awful bastard of a voice is in that head telling you you’re not cared for?”

Can’t be like this. YS thought pitifully, shivering and curling up tighter on himself. So damn small. Hated being small. Everyone relies on me. I have to make everything better. I can’t ever be anything less than at my best. I’ve never been at my best…

Biff stared at him. Oh, he’d had enough. Enough of his brother talking like his life was going to be over soon, enough of the toxic thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone, enough. YS was sitting in front of him suffering from cold he’d seemingly let himself fall to. Talking about how he’d falsely convinced himself he was loved because he didn’t believe anyone actually did. This was enough. He couldn’t take it away in any real capacity but he would sooner die himself than do nothing.

“I’m picking you up.” Biff warned, before doing it anyways.

The smaller YS ended up being, the more he was in clear turmoil. The fact that the normally freakishly tall one was now only half of Biff’s size was very concerning. There were only two reasons he lost control of his shapeshifting like this, and it certainly wasn’t because he was flustered and embarrassed. When things made him feel small mentally, his power activated on its own off of that. There was no embarrassment here. Just empty eyes and freezing limbs.

For a moment YS wondered where Biff thought he was taking him. Turns out, he wasn’t taking him anywhere. Since he’d shrunk without the hoodie on, it hadn’t shrunk with him. Now the piece of clothing was so big on him he could drown in it. Biff draped it over him instead, like a superhero cape. He then maneuvered his way to where YS had been laying seconds before, back leaned against the pillow. The angel was left to lie across Biff’s chest and lap while he pulled the discarded weighted blanket over the both of them.

“I don’t give a single shit what your depression is telling you to think. It’s not true and I’m sorry that no one was here to tell you that when you really needed it.” Biff sighed, a hand coming up to pet through YS’s hair.

Tired. Tired of all of this. Just want her back. Why can’t I just be okay?

“We’re all just one call away. You needed someone and we would’ve picked up the phone regardless what time it was. Sleep is hardly important to me if someone I care about- no, fuck this, I’m not dancing around the word anymore. I don’t care about sleep when someone I love is crumbling alone.”

Love.

It’s not nice to lie about something like that. YS immediately thought in response. Who said he was lying? Another thought answered right after. Confusing. What the hell was he saying?

“Not lying.” Biff affirmed. Whether his words would be believed or not was the real question. “You’re my big brother, and I love you, okay? You’re freezing cold and I’m not letting you anywhere out of my arms until you warm up. Can’t let you get sick by being careless.”

Warm. He’s almost burning hot, how cold did I let myself get? A moment of clarity, what the fuck was he doing? Good warmth. Loving warmth. Want this… Need this.

“It’s okay to need someone.” Biff continued to comb his fingers through YS’s hair, taking relief in how he moved to push into his hand. “It’s good to be strong within yourself, but that shouldn't be all you are. People are made to be social, to be around other people, to love them. Love them in whatever way they want. You didn’t lose the “only” person who loved you. Fuck, she’s still technically here. But she’s not the only one, far from it. Don’t you remember how she brought us here the last time?”

The last time. When he’d almost done the bad thing again, before any of them knew they could mirror-walk. A week alone, worrying them sick. Guilt? No, he was still too empty. Still shivering, but less, because Biff was warm and he was surrounded. The hoodie, the blanket, him. Things he loved. Things that made him feel loved.

“You’re exhausted.” Biff said plainly, catching sight of the way YS’s eyes struggled to stay open properly. “You’re safe, you know. I’ve got you. How many times have you led us to fall asleep on you because you made us feel safe? It’s your turn now.”

Needed someone. Have… little brother. Have Biff. Have the rest. Warm… love is warm.

Biff offered a soft smile at the other, pleased when he felt YS’s arms move from tucked against his own chest to wrapped around his middle. Later when things were better, he expected the other to complain about how he was ‘abusing the ways to placate him’ but it wasn’t abuse. No, this was being used exactly how it needed to be.

Biff sent a quick text to the group chat. Communication was important and he wasn’t going to gatekeep information like this. He told them YS had a bad night, and if they had time, to come over when they could. But in the interest of keeping the resident cuddler from getting overwhelmed…

Humming… lullaby, for me? Even YS’s thoughts were getting slower and more tired. Haven't heard this one… Personalized? My little game turned against me?

Biff wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. But he’d remembered all the times the other would hum to him to give him comfort, why not give that back? It wasn’t the same song YS used for him. Something had compelled him to pick something different, something he felt was fitting. His little game? Did YS have specific songs for each of them?

“Get some rest now.” Biff whispered between hums. Good old, reliable song. YS seemed to like it.

The rest of YS’s thoughts trailed off into nothing as his eyes slipped closed. Biff listened to his breaths, going from quick and shaky to deep and slow. His shapeshifting activated again, allowing for some height back, but not all of it. Funny, now they were actually the same size. Biff-sized YS.

Had he been thinking about the other in place of feeling small?

Biff kept humming, eyes flicking to the mirror when he saw Peacock step through, followed shortly by Boyf. He hadn’t actually expected anyone to show up this fast, props to them. Man, he’d coaxed YS to sleep too fast, now he didn’t get to see how loved he was that some of the others were probably dropping everything to be here.

Oh well. He’d fallen asleep being loved, and he’d wake up later to see how much love was waiting for him.

Biff beckoned the two over with a head tilt, unwilling to give up on his humming. Both of them looked just about ready to latch onto YS and never let him go, which, honestly, considering the state Biff had found him in, he was already doing himself. With the extra body heat from them he’d end up boiling alive on his own, but YS deserved it and he wasn’t about to move.

“What happened?” Boyf thought, unsure if they’d even be able to hear him.

“His microphone…” Peacock pointed out, subject still glowing red on the table.

I don’t want to give up humming. Hoping that she’s letting you guys hear my thoughts right now, that’s one of the spells she’s able to do. Biff thought back. Oh, that’s weird. How come it feels different to when you do it, Boyf?

Peacock and Boyf blinked, but reacted enough to show that his hope was right.

“I uh. Don’t really know.” Boyf shrugged. “Avoiding the question. What happened?”

I’m not fully sure. Found him purposefully under the air conditioner vent without his hoodie or the blanket. I think he was… trying to make himself suffer. He doesn’t think very good of himself. Convinced that he’s not loveable and that the hoodie is just a thank you gift. I hate this. Right when I think he’s getting better it all gets exponentially worse.

“Wish we could’ve been here for him sooner.” Peacock admitted quietly. “It’s like, impossible to tell what’s going on with him because he refuses to talk about any of it. There’s only so much we can do.”

“Then we do what we can until we can do more.” Boyf replied firmly.

“Hah, yeah…” Peacock agreed. “Haven’t seen him small before. You guys kept saying he could get small and I never got to see it before now. Sucks that it’s such a circumstance.”

“He can be even smaller than that.” Boyf chuckled. “Becomes almost like a chibi character. Tiny ass idiot that we can pick up.”

“Holy shit, I wanna do that.”

Pff, I’m sure you’ll get your turn Peacock. There’s some very easy ways to get him embarrassed enough to shrink. Biff thought evilly. Not now though. Let him sleep, and I got here first so I have dibs. This is my big brother teddy bear.

“Whatever happened to sharing is caring? Bro doesn’t even believe in childhood concepts.”

Fuck off. You two should move faster though, might want to pile on before anyone else gets here and takes the chance. Biff snarked, bringing his free arm to wrap snugly around the sleeping angel.

“I want to point out that I was still the first one to get here after your message and that should count for something.” Peacock sniffed. “That being a chance to hug the big guy.”

“Lmao, ‘big guy’ when he’s the small one right now.”

No way in hell you’re making fun of my height and unironically using ‘lmao’ to do it in the same sentence. This moron was going to make him lose his place in his humming. Stupid idiot brother. Just get over here already. I can’t keep humming this forever and I want this idiot to get a substantial amount of sleep for once.

“Don’t have to tell us twice.”

[cephydeluxe]

TW: eye strain, blood, no visible gore but eye injury implied (also rambling in the tags)

Early work in progress painting of v,,,, the final piece won’t look anything like this (…..maybe) but I was messing with layer settings and hard mix is serving ,,,,,

tbh I’m starting 2 understand V h8ters now,,, mf needs 2 get the FUCK outta my head before I do something crazy 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 (((draw him more****

[aaronstveit]

hi there! you said in your tags that the latest chapter of deep end contains the two scenes you built the entire fic on. i hope i'm not too nosy but i was wondering if you could tell us more about those two scenes? <3

omg hi anon!! yes i would LOVE to tell you more about those two scenes 🫡 gonna put this beneath the cut because i am a certified yapper and this WILL be longer than i intend it to be

the scenes in question are the two arguments with cosette and grantaire at the end. the cosette argument in particular is the basis of so much of this fic — the line "The dutiful martyr Enjolras, who has a flag where he should have a heart." was one of the very first things i wrote for deep end. not a very charitable place to begin from when it comes to enjolras' characterization, but even when i first wrote it, it was less about who enjolras was and more about how he was perceived.

okay i just scrolled allllllllll the way back to the very beginning of the edit history in my original deep end document (still titled "enjolsette siblings?" btw) and first of all i started writing this in MARCH which is wild to me. that was the month i finished reading les mis. wow. anyway apparently i wrote the first drafts of both these scenes in the same evening, and i'm honestly surprised by how much of them remained unchanged in the final version. at the time that i wrote them, they both occurred in chapter 8 of what i PLANNED to be 10 chapters. that's also extremely funny to me. there was really a time when i thought i could contain this story to 10 chapters...

when i wrote these chapters, i hadn't even written enjolras and cosette meeting yet. the original draft of the grantaire argument didn't have enjolras realizing he was in love with grantaire then. i was still in the first 10k of writing deep end when i wrote them. all that existed before these arguments were the original draft of chapter 1, half of the original draft of chapter 2, and the conversation with combeferre in chapter 5 that begins with combeferre saying "You've been spending a lot of time with Grantaire lately." so when i say these scenes are the basis of the entire fic, i really mean it. the whole time i was writing, i was pushing enjolras toward this point.

from the moment that i began writing deep end, it was intended to be an exploration of enjolras & his ideas of duty and justice. it has spiraled into being a story about a lot of other things, but in the kitchen with cosette, it comes down to this again. it comes down to: enjolras, and what he thinks his duty is, and just how wrong he is.

because he is wrong. money, whether she wants it or not, isn't going to "fix" cosette. there is no "fixing" cosette, because she's not broken. has she been hurt? yes. did their father fail her? undeniably. but depositing a check into her bank account isn't the answer to this. enjolras wants to heal her in some material sort of way, and that just isn't possible. all he can do is be her brother.

so, i had to take enjolras to that place. i had to make him obsess over "paying for his father's sins." i had to make him stressing himself out over the money. i had to make him love cosette without understanding it. and i had to make him terrible.

i love making enjolras terrible, i won't lie. a lot of the time when i'm writing, i like to see how terrible i can make him without alienating him completely from the reader. when i was trying to decide what line from this chapter to use as the summary, i sent a few options to my friend cossette, who read an earlier draft of this fic. she chose the line about him being "capable of being truly terrible" for me, because she said that was kind of the whole thing i was going for.

and it was! for him to be able to say the things he says in this chapter — from telling cosette "Look what he did to you!" to him saying to grantaire "Your chest is even emptier than mine. All you have is an empty bottle and a half-assed joke." he HAS to be terrible. these are terrible things to say!

unfortunately, i think they're also very human things to say. i joke a lot about how much i enjoy making characters say the worst possible things to each other, but it's true. i love doing it. because i think it's so tragically human. especially when you're saying these things to a person that you love. it's easy to hurt the people we love, because we know them well enough to know just where to hit them.

when enjolras hurts cosette, it's mostly by accident. he is coming from a good place, but going all about it wrong. when he hurts grantaire, it is with intent. he and grantaire have spent years hurting each other. when enjolras finds himself falling after fighting with cosette, it's too easy for him to cling to the closest familiar thing: fighting with grantaire.

building up to the fight with grantaire was a different beast. whereas the argument with cosette is borne from misguided ideas of justice, the fight with grantaire is entirely personal. as i was writing deep end, i had to write an enjolras and a grantaire who could come to this place, in very different ways. enjolras had to find himself leaning on grantaire; he had to be in more pain than anyone realized, including himself; he had to be terrible. grantaire, in contrast, had to have some amount of self control; he had to be someone who could be leaned on; he had to be able to walk away. the grantaire we meet in chapter 1 meets very little of these requirements. his development is just as important as enjolras', even if he isn't the main focus.

this answer is, as predicted, much much longer than i intended so i will wrap things up. when writing longform fic, i tend to start with the worst thing and work my way outwards from there. these two scenes are the worst things. because i knew where he was going, i knew while i was writing that i had to shape and enjolras who would find himself saying and doing the worst things he could. that's why he's cruel to grantaire in the first few chapters, why he finds himself arguing with grantaire despite knowing better, why he constantly finds himself self-destructing. i always tell everyone that deep end is about enjolras beating the marble statue allegations, and that's never truer than it is in chapter 18.

for the record, you are always welcome to stop by and ask me about deep end! i have soooooo much director's commentary and i love to yap. i could talk all day about what happened in the original draft, what was added later, ideas i toyed with, why i made the decisions i did, etc. thank you so much for this ask <333 i had lots and lots of fun answering it even if my answer is pretty much as long as deep end herself.

[p2ii]

redemption arcs where instead of the character having to do through the arc with the person they wronged and have the end goal be forgiveness they go through the arc with a completely different character that has no involvement in the main conflict with the goal being self improvement>>>

[daily-beast-wirt-brainrot]

[Day 7] We've finally reached the one week point!!!!!

Truly thankful for all of you sticking around for this little project :]