#i love angst a lot okay?

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[landedinpayne]

in case you are in the mood to feel devastated here’s an alternate way of viewing charles’ response to edwin’s confession:

we know that charles kinda puts edwin on a pedestal- yes they are partners but there is a bit of a hierarchy between them. charles just looks up to and admires edwin in so many ways while constantly looking down on and being really hard on himself. he puts on his big happy persona because he thinks that people wouldn’t like him if they actually got to know him.

so when edwin confesses, it’s like a blow to him. he took his charming persona too far and went and tricked the most important person in the world into thinking he was worthy of love. and it’s worse because he does love edwin in that way, which is exactly why he can’t let him know that. charles still believes that he is like his dad, and he saw exactly what his parents’ relationship did to his mother.

he thinks that loving edwin in the way that he wants to would only cause more pain to this boy who has already been through far more than he deserves. so he blinks back his tears, attempts the same charming smile he’s used all these years, and dishes out the gentlest non-rejection in the history of forever

[v-poreons]

OCposting..... This is Coven :3 she's a witch who specializes in luck magic! I need to post her so I can yap about her more, she's rotating in my brain at top speed

(Also her bf belongs to @oodliedoodlies hiiii hiiiiiiii hi hi hi)

[lonelyzarquon]

A thousand bodies piled up I never thought would be enough To show you just what I've been thinking

[mellohiizz]

i need some of your parrot art very sad. like, make him very very sad, as sad as you can make it. horribly sad. depressingly tragic sadness.

oops. sorry, i think i traumatized your bird.

[barghest-land]

night guards 🌟

enjoying my first rdr1 playthrough :') damn i'm gonna cry so much. i know it's gonna break my heart even more than rdr2 i'm not ready

[ooeygooeyghoul]

Speaking of the Hydaelyn trial, as a tank main, I am a very big fan of the inherent tenderness of taking the shared tankbuster with Thancred. I've seen like a billion posts and art commenting on it before, and there's just something about two tanks protecting each other that's just so oddly intimate.

Thancred just booking it across the arena to be at Shiun's side when he sees he's being targeted by a hit he knows he can't take alone. Imagining Shiun still practically wrapping himself around Thancred to shield him as best as he can. Each of them using all their abilities to soften the impact, trying to keep the other from harm. Thinking about them fending off a mighty blow with their combined strength in a shower of sparks, so close together that they're almost one. A shared look of relief and silent reassurance that "I have your back" as they break apart to continue the fight once the attack has passed.

Yeah idk, seems kinda gay to me.

[siliconforbrains]

Okay, it's like 10pm on a work night and I haven't had any coffee today so my thoughts are a little scrambled BUT. I WAS THINKING.

(About In Stars and Time of course I'm always thinking about that game)

A couple of years ago, at the height of Steddie -my sister was big into it and recced me some fics okay- I read this fic about Steve dealing with time loops ("The one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting" by badpancake) and there was this specific detail about the epilogue that stuck with me.

It was the idea that, once the time loops were done and over with, people would slowly start to remember bits and pieces of what happened in earlier loops. After being fractured for so long across dozens of timelines and experiences and outcomes, time was finally healing, and broken shards of lost memories would find their way back into people's minds.

And that got me thinking about a post-game what-if scenario where the same happens to the gang as they travel through Vaugarde.

Like they still don't remember everything -just bits and pieces. Experiences so emotionally charged that they found a way to cross the sands of time and reach them again.

The question is, what would those memories be? The first answer that comes to mind is some of Siffrin's deaths, of course. I can't imagine watching your friend get pancake-d by a boulder would be pleasant, nor witnessing them turning their own dagger to themselves. Or offering him a slice of your favorite snack only for him to go into anaphylactic shock in front of your very eyes, for that matter!

But there would be other instances too, wouldn't they? Death is not the only thing that shook them to their core. What about their first death to the King? Or Bonnie's fate at the end of Act 3? What about basking in the blissful feeling of victory against the tormentor of your land only to turn to look at your friend and know something is very, very wrong?

What about fighting through the House with a party of 4 instead of 5, bloodied, confused, staring in the face of the King knowing you're about to die and wondering why your friend left you all when you needed them most?

I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I've been rotating this concept in my head since this morning and thought I'd get it out on here so y'all can suffer with me tehee

[galaxostars]

“Thank you for keeping your promise.”

inspired scene from the fic “Beyond the Heartbeat” by @starsworth

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp meets Pedro when they get to Zou after Dressrosa and instantly gets a weird vibe from him when he talks about Sanji and saving him. Maybe it's the way he pronounces Sanji's name or how they just met but for some reason, he seems to be the most concerned of all. And Usopp is not a jealous person. Having Sanji as your boyfriend kind of makes you have to deal with his obsession with girls all the time... But Pedro? A tall, handsome, strong mink is worried sick about his boyfriend and Usopp isn't stupid. He knows something is going on. Pedro also somehow knows Usopp and he figures Sanji has talked about him, but why would he bring that up, anyway? The point here is-- Usopp doesn't like Pedro.

[parvulous-writings]

The Loop // Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish drabble(ish)

Warnings: Repeated main character death. Mention of gun wounds, and bombs. Spoilers for Operation Trojan Horse/MW3 Reboot's ending.

Words: 1.1k

Notes: What a hell of a fandom debut, eh? I have a few ideas similar to this one.... Ough... Lots of thoughts...  My requests are currently open! My request post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider reblogging! I’d appreciate it loads!!

John wasn't entirely sure how long this had been going on for. How many times he had seen the same ceiling in the morning, the same people outside, had the same conversations over and over again. The first few times he thought it was just an odd, deja-vu fever dream. 'Okay, this time, it'll change. This time, it'll be tomorrow. This time, everyone will get to move along.' But, every time it was the same. He didn't know how many times November 21st had come and gone, only to come again the next time the Scotsman opened his eyes. He had lost count somewhere in the teens - which was god knows how long ago now.

Some days, he tried to do things differently, saying different things to those he came into contact with, taking different routes to the destinations he knew he had to be there for. But no matter what details he ended up changing, the day ended up the same way, every time. The Scot rubs his temple a little bit as he sits up, grumbling sleepily as he slowly wakes. He can still feel the violent thrum from what felt like moments earlier, his last few seconds of life before blacking out, and waking up here once more. He could swear that every time the loop restarts, the pain in his temple is even worse than the time before. He ran through everything that his pain addled mind would allow him to - all the details and points that he could remember;

The day would start with Laswell telling the team that Makarov and Konni group were in London, and plan to meet with a hacker. Whatever was on the drive in the hacker's possession - some sort of Trojan Horse virus - allowed Konni to control the trains under the city, that much Johnny had already managed to commit to memory. Makarov will board one of the trains, with intent to try and take over the channel tunnel. When they get further into the tunnel, through the numerous Konni operatives, he and Captain Price will find a guarded bomb. They'll manage to break through the remaining Konni operatives with the help of the Shadow Group, and then he and Price will start to work on defusing the bomb. The next few minutes - the last of Johnny's life - always seem to go so quickly. They're little more than a blur; the reserve Konni soldiers, the momentary stun of being shot by Makarov, the last stand, and then... Momentary pain... Nothing more, and restarting right at the beginning of that day again.

He had tried resisting before, that he could remember. Only once or twice, but he remembered. He had tried shoving Makarov away before he could take that first shot. The first time he had wound up with a shot to the abdomen because of it. It hurt like hell, but he thought he would be able to make it to the next day, with some medical help. But, of course, help never came - seemingly caught up at the other end of the Channel Tunnel. It was slow, and it was painful. He had hated it - and he had hated the panicked, dreaded looks on the faces of his teammates even more. They had tried to hide the direness and eventual hopelessness of his situation from him, but Johnny was no fool. Reckless at times, and certainly impulsive at others, but never a fool. It hadn't taken him as long to bleed out as it felt, but it was still too long. The only good thing about that whole day, was knowing that he had passed in Simon's lap, as the man tried his best to comfort him, in his own way. The second time had been worse - so much worse. He had turned earlier than the first time, anticipating the man's shot, but that had had catastrophic consequences. There was a yell from Price, and then, a bright, burning light. It only lasted for a moment, but by God did it hurt. It felt like his entire being was on fire - and for the briefest second, he could have sworn he smelled burning hair and fabric. Unfortunately that horrid stench had followed him through to the morning, sticking in his nose for the majority of that loop. He learnt from that; keep your attention on the bomb, Johnny. Keep everyone else alive.

A part of John wished that he could be caught in a loop of pretty much any other day. Hell, even some of his most humiliating defeats in his Under 21's football team would be better relived than this - perhaps the shame could be better dealt with than the knowledge that no matter what, no matter what course of action he takes, who he talks to, or what he tries to do to prepare himself, the day will always end with his death. It's set in stone, and to a certain extent, he's come to accept it. In any case, this last day allows him to think back on his life - and even though he can't change a single thing about it - about those good times. Joining the military. Pissing people off constantly as the perpetual F.N.G. Meeting Ghost - spending time with Ghost, even if the man was incredibly closed off. Finding a friend in both Gaz and Price, knowing that no matter the situation they had found themselves in, they had had each other backs. Even now, on this last day, even if the others didn't know it each morning, they looked after one another the best they could. If nothing else, Johnny knew that he could take solace in one thing:

In his last moments, he is surrounded by those he trusts most. Those he would have taken a bullet for anyway - he started to take the mindset that that was what he was doing here, taking a bullet for his team, ensuring their survival, and helping them forward. He could only hope that there were versions of his teammates out there that managed to move on from this day, who made it to November 22nd, and managed to give Makarov everything that he deserved. He supposed, though, that dying amongst his team, even if it hurt them emotionally, was the best thing he could have asked for, given the circumstances. Pushing this flurry of thoughts out of his mind, John took a deep breath, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

It was time for another day.

[angeart]

Y'know I was sitting here this morning with the hot spring rambles on my brain, specifically thinking about if the hair washing is close enough to preening to make Grian's birb brain happy

And it just really hit me how unfair hhau world is to birb Grian in particular. Birb brain wants preening from Scar and to show off for him, but being noticed is what's most dangerous for them. T-T

-🎀

hhau world is cruel to birb grian. besides just turning his wings into big shining targets and a huge liability, grian can't have anything his instincts want and crave and yearn for.

preening (as much from himself as from scar—he can't get any version of it and it's driving something in him despondent and mad), idle touches to his feathers, using wings for nonverbal language, using them as a comforting warm blanket on cold nights, flying... the list goes on.

he's a grounded bird that sometimes contemplates if he wouldn't be better off without his wings. that's what this world's done to him.

and oh gosh the things he'd like to do now that him and scar are openly horribly in love? all the new instincts and cravings and urges? all of those things he equally has to stifle and bury deep down... all those things that he feels insane need for but an even bigger terror of them—an emotion that doesn't belong, should never have been put there, and yet it's so deeply rooted and entangled through him now, so much so that it feels insurmountable and irreversible...

it's honestly unfair and so very sad, yeah 😭

[good-beanswrites]

es should go through the blender but my finger is tired of holding down the button. so i shall pass the blender to you (with an es nui in it). do whatever you wish with them.

Oh why thank you :) I will take the blender gladly :) *Tosses some T2 angst into the blender* *adds a little bit of funky structure/style* *gives it a little pinch of headcanons* *and another pinch of random angst I got from ace attorney at 14 and never forgot* :) BBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Caretaker Log J.16.7.2

Summary – The Warden’s condition continues to worsen since last entry. All decline remains self-inflicted. 

J.16.7.2-M – Sleep deprivation has resulted in mood swings and irritability. Though denied by the Warden, extreme distress, melancholy, and laughter have been noted. They lash out verbally and physically toward the prisoners (1) only to apologize at a later time. Observations (2) result in speculation that hallucinations are another symptom. 

J.16.7.2-B – The Warden's obsession with notetaking remains steady, though most pages of planning are merely rewritten versions of earlier notes. Their nightly ritual has grown more rigorous: four cups of coffee ingested in the time between dinner and the kitchen’s closing. A fifth cup is brought back to the courtroom, where the Warden will once again sleep on the ground. (Refer to J.5.5.2.B for initial detail.) 

J.16.7.2-P – Sleep deprivation and/or caffeine intake has caused shakiness and overall weakness. They show severe eyebags and have not changed into nightclothes in several days. Though they wash themself and fresh civilian clothes have been provided, they insist on returning to the uniform. Motor skills (3) and computation abilities have suffered.

J.16.7.2-S – The Warden spends their days around the prisoners, but avoids participating in all necessary conversations and activities regardless of invitation (4). They limit speech to the Caretaker only about their denied request (5), though they can be coaxed into conversation when fatigue overtakes them.

(1) After 005 offered the Warden something to help with their sleep, they threw the pills to the ground and shouldered past with force; 008 attempted to read the Warden’s notes, and they slapped her hand away.

(2) Flinched away from 003 even when standing still; shocked expression at 004's face despite nothing out of the ordinary; looked nauseous and refused to eat fresh fruit from the dining hall; interrupted a conversation with 010 to listen to silence.

(3) Handwriting has grown nearly intelligible; dropped one of their coffee cups and nearly panicked at the subsequent breakage and spill.

(4) Left the room when 002 began setting up a game; ignored 001's encouragement to join him for a meal; refused to answer personal questions from 006; snapped at 007 when trying to begin a lighthearted conversation.

(5) Request submitted on 30.8.2 for padlocks to fit supply closet and cell doors.

Appendix. Subjective caretaker commentary – Poor kid. I’m glad it’ll all be over soon. 

[revasserium]

tragic heroes

he sees it in the way you look at him, at the way you see passed all his bravado, all his helpless insecurities, hidden behind a firm exterior, or an easy smile, or a wink and a kiss to the cameras.

the first time you ask if he’s tired, he almost breaks down.

“exhausted,” he says, finally admitting it to himself, letting the height of his body curl in on itself till he’s sure he could fit comfortably in your arms and stay there.

“shh…” you tell him, “it’s okay…”

“everyone gets tired sometimes, even superheros like you,” you say, reaching for him, pulling him into you, into your chest, holding him like a breath, carrying him in your arms as though that’s where he’s always belonged.

“i’m not a superhero,” he says, his voice small and tight and terribly different from the way it usually is.

“of course you are,” you say, pulling back to look at him, to cup his cheeks between your hands like water in a stand storm, like something beautiful, something precious and perfect — something made so by it’s mere existence.

and when he tries to shake his head, to open his mouth and tell you how wrong you are, you shut him up with a kiss. you kiss him so hard and so deep that for a moment, he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t kissing you. you kiss him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to forget.

when you finally pull away, he looks down to find you smiling and he leans down to kiss you back like acceptance, like pain and knowing and remembering.

“you’ll always be my hero.”

ATSUMU, bokuto, hoshiumi, HINATA, midoriya, oikawa, MIRIO

[lvminisciel]

general's dissection

the one time a famed general wishes to lose, only to emerge victorious warning: disturbing themes, implied suicidal ideation, angst. unrequited lilinor, implied levan x meleanor wc 343, further details on the tags inspired by this song!

i. hunted by many, a single prey escapes

come forth, engage in this game of ‘General’s Dissection’

humans and fae alike may partake

hunting down the general’s head

for he had fallen victim to deceit

castle ground rejects both ashes and bone

as the air grew colder and colder

away from the night’s blessing, I stood

in a path to nowhere

every road I took strayed me further 

unwelcomed even by the gates of death

carrying the seed of your love, I wept

on journeys of no return, I yearn

ii. haunted by the shadow of your love

in the long nights, I dreamt of you

falling in love with someone else

saliva intertwining with what’s not mine

please wake me, please return to my embrace

set me free from this anguish

say, don’t you want to dissect

a general’s heart?

come, join and play this game

you always love carrying out mischief

with that smug grin adoring your silly face

a beating heart would make a fun trinket,

don’t you think?

come back to me and i’ll make you win

exchanging victory with every last piece

of love you’ve left behind

something i could never comprehend,

a grave misconception on your part

as I am a weapon for you to wield, not a warden!

iii. hope, a form of nonexistent luxury

ah

for once i wished to lose 

a being incapable of affection

because if not, why else 

would you escape from my grasp?

how i wished soul could be used as a currency

all i need is an hour, a splitting second

spare me a fragment of your existence

change the trajectory of one's life,

just like how you did way back

surely this kingdom would be better off without that lowly bat fae,

would it not?

bask the land anew with your magnificence

envelop the dusk with your finesse once more

certainly, people of the night shall rejoice 

concerns and doubt looms no longer

as happiness blooms beyond briars and thorns

please come back to me, My Lady.

[tsutsumi-kurose]

do y’all ever think about teru and hanako commiserating about not understanding their little brothers. because like. imagine teru and hanako bonding over the grief of not understanding their little brothers. his whole life he’s just that little guy who loves you and who you love back because of course you love each other and then one day he’s asking you if that love you’ve never questioned is conditional and you’re forced to realize that maybe you don’t really know much of anything about the boy who’s been chasing right behind you, practically glued to your side, his whole life. tsukasa asks amane if he loves him and amane says of course he loves him but then tsukasa disappears and when he comes back he’s different and does that “of course” still hold up even with how much tsukasa has changed? kou always looks up to teru and teru always protects kou until one day kou grabs teru’s sword and bleeds for a school wonder and then he asks what teru would do if kou became a supernatural and teru can’t say in that moment that he’d love him no matter what, can he? maybe he’d eventually come around to a yes but it’s a question he’s never felt the need to ask himself before. amane and teru take so much for granted until tsukasa and kou flip everything upside down and suddenly neither of them know anything about their little brothers anymore and they have to grapple with limits of their love while fumbling blindly in the dark