#is how much he’s grown and reflected on that part of his life so im not convinced his older self wouldnt recognize and admit to his feelings

[titsthedamnseason]

i reside firmly in camp “jack never really loved parson” not because i can’t critical think or recognize the nuance of canon or anything like that but because i think it’s extremely cunty if kent parson was like a mess over himself confessing his undying love for jack every day in the juniors and jack was high out of his mind just like “k. wanna go practice face offs?”

[chococolte]

☼ — osculatus solem

my take on sagau/cult au zhongli, reactions to first meeting you/as a worshiper + reactions to being your lover

word count. 4.2k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationship, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. im sorry if tense is weird im kinda dumb lol

Zhongli has waited for you for six-thousand years.

It wasn’t until he was faced with you that he realized how cruel the wait was. Six-thousand years of patiently waiting had never felt like grueling punishment until he realized what he was deprived of. Like a man starved, he had grown used to the numbness of constant hunger— he found it almost comforting, as he had lived his entire life malnourished. He lived unaware of what it was like to have a full stomach.

Your presence is primeval. It emanates, and it overwhelms all else. When Zhongli looked into your eyes for the first time, he finally felt complete. He was finally where he was meant to be. Finally with who he was meant to be with.

The scripture had described you in detail, but there were only so many words, so many different ways to speak of you. None of them could compare to how you looked in person, standing in front of him.

Your eyes hold all the knowledge in the world. Constellations and stars shine within them, a myriad of stellar tapestries formed within the small reflective surface of your eyes. Past, present, and future dance inside, moving according to your design. You see all. You are all. Everything that is, and everything that will be, is you. Every burgeoning bud, blooming flower, roaring wave, and colossal beast; you are every death, there in every mournful cry and scornful glare; you are every mortal life and every god.

You are the sun that brings warmth to Teyvat, the moon that caresses its tides, and Zhongli wants nothing more than to worship you for it.

Zhongli was not always your devout worshiper. He was once, like all of his temperament, rebellious and spiteful. He refused to believe that all of his victories in battle had simply been part of your design. Just a single thread in your grand tapestry.

His triumphs were his, and his alone. He won by his own virtue, will, and vigor. He won by his own hand, spear, and stone. You did not aid him in his wars. You did not save anyone worth saving. Zhongli watched his allies die, slip through his fingers like grains of sand— and he would never thank you for what he endured. He promised himself that if ever faced with you and your faux benevolence, he would demand answers from you. You owed him that much. A recompense for all the hardship and injury he had sustained.

Zhongli, in his youthful hubris, did not care who heard his blasphemy, and whether they thought it distasteful or not. He was the god of war, and would allow no being to silence his voice. Zhongli bathed in his rage, wallowed in it; he would not allow himself to believe what others so easily indulged in. Ignorance led way to arrogance.

Guizhong had always been of the opinion that you were a kind, gentle god. She argued that your light could not be quantified, nor labeled; just because you did not act in ways he could see, did not mean you did not act at all. You breathed life into the abandoned, the lost— you embraced those without a home, without purpose. You forgave and you pardoned, and you rained down fury on those wicked and vile.

Zhongli had long grown used to her arguments. Every victory of theirs, despite the tight grip on his weapon and the ichor on his blade, was attributed to you— your grace, your blessings. By your grace you allowed them one more day, by your blessings you allowed them one more triumph. Zhongli thought her pitiful; you had done nothing to deserve her kindness. She worshiped you, and what had you given her in response to her devotion?

Guizhong died in his hands, and he had nothing to show for it. Helplessness ate it's way at him, through his flesh and bone. What was left was nothing more than a husk, a parody of a god. What was once anger at authority transformed into righteous anger at the one who made him. You allowed him his victories, to parade around with pride and vanity; you gave him your blessings, benediction and approval, and yet you let the one who meant the most to him die. The one who worshiped you above all else.

Why did he live over her? He did not appreciate you. He did not worship you. He made no offerings, nor did he pray. He did not believe in your salvation, neither did he ordain your will. But he was the one left behind with the sorrow and the guilt, and Guizhong was the one turned to dust. Why was he chosen?

Zhongli knew that asking questions was meaningless. You would not deign to answer. Maybe it was to be expected. Why would an Almighty God answer to a lower being demanding answers far beyond their comprehension? Why should you have to explain yourself, when you saw all? Zhongli was merely the god of Geo. You could take even that from him.

You were the God of All. The Primordial One. No being had authority over you; not even one of the Seven.

It was only in the light of Guizhong's death that Zhongli had finally begun to understand her perspective. He might’ve been alone, but that did not make you cruel. It did not mean you were unable to be kind, tender and loving. You loved as much as you breathed— the world was showered in your love for it, in the wind that caressed its people and the sea that fed them. Your love was in its bountiful harvests and its gentle rain.

You loved just as any other, but Zhongli had long refused to see it.

He started small. Gestures of devotion hidden underneath many layers of misty glass, only clear to those who looked hard enough. Zhongli had postured to those still with him that he no longer minded if they worshiped you in his presence. If he was feeling particularly daring, he would join in and mutter a small word or two of thanks. Perhaps he thought of it as a way to make up to Guizhong after so many years of his disapproval.

Though he may have found it unbearable at the beginning, he soon began to pray to you in times of need. He looked for you when he found himself in need of counsel, forgoing the people around him. He made offerings in your name when there was a drought or a shortage, praying for your guidance. Even if he did not initially believe that you would truly respond, the comfort it brought outweighed the logistics. If there was no one else he could turn to, he still had you— and you would never forsake him.

Zhongli started to find your answers in the strangest of places. An arrangement of flowers in some botanical garden of some odd scion, the conversation of two orphan boys that shed a new perspective; a tale that seemed almost catered to him told by a storyteller at a tea house. Perhaps he was imagining things— he surely would have thought so a millennium earlier. But were they truly coincidences, if they only happened after he had prayed and offered at his altar for you?

If it was the Zhongli of old, he would have said yes. But the Zhongli of new knew better now: it was you, speaking to him through indirect means. You answered his prayers and accepted his offerings. You forgave him for what he had done and the things he had said in the past.

Liyue was modeled after what Zhongli believed you favored the most. Its jagged cliffs, jeweled karsts, cuihua forests, and vibrant plant life; sculpted and molded to fit your tastes. He sometimes daydreams of showing you his life’s work— would you like it? Would you tell him he’s done a good job, that he had done enough to please you? If you found it distasteful, would you tell him why? Even if it meant tearing the land asunder and usurping the earth that tethers it to its place in the sea, Zhongli would change whatever it is you dislike immediately.

Even if the problem was himself. He would happily bow his head, whisper one last plead for forgiveness, and take his own life. If it was your will, there is nothing he wouldn't do.

When Zhongli meets the Traveler for the first time, he is frozen in place. His heart drops to his stomach as he sees the gleam of your existence in their eyes. It's you. You're here, in front of him— he wants to kneel and worship you the way he's always wanted, but…

Why is it them, and not him?

Zhongli knows he shouldn’t be jealous. It’s a blessing in the first place to meet you like this. It's a blessing to know that you're real. But he can’t stop himself from lying awake at night, thinking of what it would be like if he was the eyes through which you experienced this world.

It’s an ugly feeling. A twisted, nasty feeling. It leaves him feeling bitter in the morning and sick whenever he sees the Traveler walking through Liyue’s streets. He assists them on their quest, because you are there with them— watching him through their eyes. He hopes to leave a good impression, to assure you that there is no problem with him; perhaps, that is why you did not choose him? Because he was faulty in some form?

Hours upon hours of self-reflection spent in dark, locked rooms. Zhongli stays there, looking in mirrors, searching for reasons why. He looks at his mortal form and wonders: is this why? Did you want him to serve you as the Geo Archon for longer? Why not him?

Was he not enough? Was Liyue not enough? You are never wrong, never incorrect— the problem lies with him. But no matter how long he looks, he can't find the reason. He's better in every way. Better in his devotion for you, better in his worship— he would kneel until his knees turned raw and skin gave way to bone, he would pray and sing your praises until his throat bled. He built Liyue with earth and stone, and cracked the land until it was worthy enough of a formation, molding it with his hands to please you. He had changed himself until he was deserving of your forgiveness, until he was worthy enough to worship you.

The voice in the back of his head tells him it was because he once hated you. Once, when he was a fool and a heathen, he spat on your good name, derided it with disgust. Zhongli thought you forgave him for the sins of his past. He thought you still loved him despite it. He thought he had purified himself long ago, but perhaps he still had some rot left to root out. What part of him wasn’t perfect? What part of him wasn’t enough for you?

Zhongli knows he’s only being ungrateful. You’ve done enough for him. Who is he to demand more?

REVERENTIA ; first meeting/as a worshiper

Zhongli did not know what to do with himself when his eyes laid on your figure for the first time.

You were beautiful. Resplendent and illustrious. When you spoke, crying out so timorously, he shuddered involuntarily. He clasped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to steady his breathing, but your voice was infectious. His heart felt heavy in his chest as you looked at him with wide eyes.

Nothing could compare to your stare, to the life that swirled within your eyes.

Zhongli knelt, then, his head hitting the floor. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and straight, keeping his posture as poised as possible.

His first words to you: "Welcome home."

Whether your reaction was volatile or not, Zhongli is at your beck and call. He waits on you hand and foot, staying by your side and keeping close. He acts as your shadow, following your orders, even simple commands, as if the result of his failure will be death. Zhongli is aware that your current form is weaker, mortal in nature; but when you ascend once more, he wants to be known as the one who never doubted you, never thought of you as lesser because of your current circumstances.

Zhongli, despite his worship of propriety, is still prone to decadence. His hands as he helps you dress linger for far longer than they should, brushing against the soft skin of your shoulders. The tips of his gloves burn from where they've touched you, and you notice him wearing them less and less often, now.

In Zhongli's eyes, you are never wrong. You stand at the pinnacle of righteousness, justice and light; anything you say is gospel. He commits all of your opinions, even of the littlest, pettiest things, to memory. His personal thoughts on the matter are meaningless, now— if you dislike it, then it's bad. Simple as that. If you find something enjoyable, then it's good. If your concept of morality is twisted and murky, then he will morph his own to match it; there is no internal struggle, no hesitation in his thoughts and behavior. Your will is all that matters.

When in your presence, Zhongli is perfect. He is courteous, gentle, and benign. He never does anything without your explicit permission. He brews you tea, and tells you anything you wish to know. He worships you with so much vigor it's hard to deny him.

Outside of it, he is barely hanging on by a thread.

Zhongli doesn't know how he lived without you before. He feels vaguely sick even thinking of going back to when you were not present. Just a moment without you is hellish. Every step away from you is like walking on scorching coal. It is an agonizing pain, one slow and tortuous.

He has never felt such pain before. The mere thought of leaving you by your lonesome sends him into a frenzy powered only by his desire to stay by you. He is willing to tear anyone apart should they stand in between him and his god. He can't leave, not when he isn't worthy of your forgiveness yet, not when you're so fragile in your current form.

Every night he rests only barely. Every morning he rises with relief, knowing that once more he is allowed to bask in your company.

Perhaps he's still driven by his insecurity, by the idea of you thinking him unworthy of you.

Zhongli speaks of your grace and elegance, of the light you inspire; he tells you how long he's worshiped you, how long he's loved you.

He tells you of his devotion, of the offerings he's left at your gilded altars, jewels and the finest riches. Zhongli brings them directly to you, now, with an uncharacteristic bashfulness.

He tells you of the wars he's fought in your name, of the blasphemers he's slaughtered— though, conveniently leaving out that he used to be one. Zhongli hopes you're proud of the things he's done in your name, that you will finally embrace him, utterly and wholly.

In the dark of the night, when doubt and searing loneliness so clearly bite at his mind, Zhongli walks to your room. He never dares to walk inside, always conscious of your privacy— but he kneels outside your doors with muted footsteps, only the soft echo of ruffling fabric to accompany him.

He mumbles into the gelid floor unintelligible prayers. He listens for your breathing, for assurance you're still within reach. His unrest is barely abated each time.

When he is particularly nervous, he stands by your doors until morning light, shoulders trembling with unease until you rise from your slumber.

Zhongli is fearful. His muscles are tense as he whispers pleadings that you stay, that you at least say goodbye, should you leave again. He fears one day he will awake and you will be gone.

He fears that he will be left alone again, once more without the tenderness of your guidance. Back to when he had thrown you away, when he only knew of bloodshed and the weight on his shoulders.

You freed him from his self-imposed shackles, whether knowingly or not.

Only when he's assured you're safe will he allow himself peace and serenity.

Only then, will he finally rest in the only paradise he wishes for: being by your side for eternity.

VENUSTUS ; as your lover

Zhongli has always loved you. By virtue of your holiness and sacred being, he has always loved you as his god. As his guiding hand and light, sculpting him into the Archon you want him to be; into a believer worthy of worshiping you.

Faced with your luminous presence, finally able to see what he has only imagined before, Zhongli's love for you only grows. It unfurls like a blossoming glaze lily, petals perfect and serene.

He would never dare presume that his feelings are returned. As his God, you are above him in every way— you are above him in every breath, every step you take. In every slight movement of your fingers, you establish the bridge between you. The line he should never cross.

You are above him. He is beneath you.

Whether it is intentional or not, Zhongli knows his place. He is grateful to be where he is, blessed enough to stand beside you in any capacity. To know that you exist would've been enough, but to care for you personally— to be the one with whom you spend the most of your treasured time with; that is an honor worth dying for.

Zhongli has played with the idea of being your consort before. Of being yours, utterly and entirely. He never lets the thought stay for long. Shame begins to eat at him all too quickly, twisting his stomach into knots of guilt and remorse. He's embarrassed more than anything; of having the gall to dare to imagine himself ever being so important to you.

The thought would've never crossed his mind before, the mere idea laughable. You were untouchable. Above even The Seven, above Celestia. You had not shown interest in any individual for a millennium, and it would be no different now.

But Zhongli knows you now. He's felt the brush of your touch, the zephyr of your breath when he leans in too close. He's felt the warmth running through your veins, the warmth that leaves him flustered, even when you've only touched him for a moment.

The thoughts come more often, now. More vivid. More apparent. You cradle him in your arms, whispering soft words of loyalty and love. You hold his hands in your own, intertwining your fingers, and tell him how you have come to love him. He is special. He alone is yours; no one else.

It terrifies him.

Zhongli is nothing more than your worshiper. He is your servant. He may have been a god, but now he is just your tool. He is content with that much. He should be content with that much. But his heart wants more from you, more than you've deigned to give him.

It wants your love. Your attention. His heart yearns to be special to you; to be the sole holder of your affection.

It's a selfish desire. A nasty one. One that he wishes he could remove, exorcise out of him like a spirit. But every attempt to carve it out of him only leaves him bleeding, and it hurts more to pretend like it doesn't exist. It burns him from the inside out, a fiery jealousy that roars whenever he sees you with another.

It should be me, his heart trembles. It should be me, his heart weeps.

Zhongli is terribly flustered when you begin to show signs of reciprocation. Small things like careful touches, honeyed tones, and words of favor. You compliment him more often, go out of your way to do things that please him; brushing and running your fingers through his hair, listening to him spin tales of old. He is aware that you must know everything already, but you look at him with such big eyes of wonder and interest he can’t help but go on.

He’s barely able to speak when you admit to him your feelings. His heart beats fast in his ears like war drums, his heartstrings tightening as if nocked by an arrow.

It's an uncharacteristic moment of timidity for the wise ex-archon. He's stammering over his words, barely able to keep up his façade of calm. Is that something you truly wish to do? With him?

You assure him— I want this, you say— and Zhongli allows himself to believe you. He follows you when you lead him by the hand into the palace of your heart. He cradles it softly in his hands, gentle and delicate. Zhongli swears to never hurt you, to never let another harm you in any way; but he still fears, still doubts you.

It should be expected for you to have multiple consorts. Multiple lovers, all equally vying for your attention. Zhongli should be happy that you have any interest in him at all— but the thought of being second to another in your heart makes him sick.

Venti, the verdant bard, does nothing but drink. He wastes away his woes in bottles of wine and bourbon; surely, you will not choose him over Zhongli? Ei lorded over her people and took their freedom away. Her reasons do not matter. All for an eternity unreachable by mortals and gods, she attempted to trespass upon your domain. Surely, you will not choose her over him?

The thoughts are foolish. Nearly sacrilegious in nature. He has no control over you; no place to demand that you only love him. But Zhongli has spent thousands of years worshiping you— is it wrong of him to believe himself better than the rest? Venti does not worship you in the way he does, with such fervor or zeal. Ei may pray or rest her eyes beneath your statue, but she has not spoken good of your name like he has, hasn’t hunted blasphemers like he has.

She’d rather her servants deal with them, whenever they so rarely come. Zhongli deals with them personally, knuckles clenched around his blade.

In every way that matters, he is better. As such, he shouldn’t fear, shouldn’t worry of when you will inevitably grow bored— he should enjoy the moments he has with you, the brief time when he is all that you have. When he is still all that you want.

Fear still grips his throat with its tiny, intangible hands. Even if he severs its wrists, it continues to thrive; to suffocate him with its pervasive thoughts.

He must prove himself, it echoes. Or else he'll be deserted. Discarded when another proves themselves his better.

Zhongli won't let himself be thrown away. Whatever he must do to please you, he will do.

Until his mortal form wears down to nothing but dust and bone, until his only coherent thought is how wonderful it is to worship you— until you have no need for anyone else.

Whatever your command is, he will follow. As long as he alone stands in your heart, as long as he alone can kiss the dirt off your feet, he will be content.

He only hopes that he can love you as you deserve.

Zhongli’s zealous behavior worsens to an obscene degree. He never falters in his fervent, almost fervorous veneration— it becomes excessive, almost actorly. Though his obsequiousness appears inflated, it is entirely genuine; he fawns a tad more obviously, smiling with dazed eyes when you kiss his cheeks or lips.

This has always been how he feels. He's only unrestrained, now. And even still, he hides the deeper parts of his worship, the servile and fanatic in him that wants to drool at your lap. It's hard to stop himself every time you sit on your throne to immediately drop to his knees.

Zhongli is happy to give and never receive. He is pleased with being yours, though it never clicks in his mind that the same is applicable to you.

You are not his, but he is yours. If you call yourself his, Zhongli melts. His face blossoms red and it permeates his cheeks for hours afterward. His hands slightly shake and he has trouble standing still in the immediate aftermath. All he wants to do is kneel, and say I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—

If you'd like it, Zhongli would let you do whatever you want with him. Tear him apart with your bare hands, and shred him of any sense; it matters not as long as it's you.

You are everything, your love is everything. Even the softest of your kisses and touches have him breathless and numb, and anything else only serves to make him fall deeper into you.

Only with you is he easy to fluster. Anyone else, and he'd have punished them long ago, if not tore out their eyes for having seen him in such a state.

But it's you. You could crush his heart in your hands, leave him heartbroken and bitter, and Zhongli still would not find it in himself to hate you.

You are the lifeblood that runs underneath Teyvat’s cracked earth, the soft undercurrent that ties it together— and, if only you'd let him, Zhongli would worship you for it.

[nztsume]

i think the thing that interests me the most about homelander is 10000% the fact that hes redeemable and likable just because of the fact of how much he loves the people he loves and how much he needs to be loved by them. like that makes him SO interesting to me, and the more we discover about him the more his insanity makes sense. the fact that nobody ever in his life saw him as any other than a product or a message or a pennant but never a HUMAN, and the fact that he himself doesnt want to see himself as a HUMAN when he so clearly is because all of this!!! the fact that hes gets so pathetically obsessed with any woman that shows him some love and attention, even if its fake! the way he refused to kill maeve because a part of him genuinely loves her still, the fact that when annie kissed him for the fake dating thing he was genuinely GENUINELY into it, and not in a sexual way. he fucking SMILED into the kiss??????? 'i'm glad you're here'???????????? the way stormfront never gave him any genuine show of affection, when it was clearly all about the sex and the power she had over him and he still didnt see it because he was so glad there was a woman who was willingly giving him what he understood as affection (that for her was just sex) idk i just feel like theres something so innocent about his character that the rest of the guys in the boys dont have - which is a clear reflection of how traumatized he was in the lab, how he never quite understood how to navegate his emotions as a grown up and develop actual self love. he loves homelander, but does he love john? everyone loves homelander, but who loves john? im obsessed. and i love how this spills into things that men who stan him actually would never accept or understand- like the fact that he doesnt even care about looks, he doesnt even care about his own supposed ideals where he considers supes superior to humans. he doesnt even care about loyalty!!!! otherwise hed loved firecracker. he simply wants a woman who will love him, really love him, like nobody ever loved him in his life. (and if you think about it thats soooooooo tragic. imagine not even having parents that love you... not even your own fucking child!!!! despite you doing everything to make him not have to go through what you went through!!!! despite giving him your undivided attention- even when youre one of the most important people in the world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and by the way, im really glad they didnt go for a super easy and predictable storyline where sister sage would pretend she loves him to manipulate him- because that would have been incredibly boring. and one last thing: this is soooo silly and petty but this is why the single most infuriating and insufferable thing in the fandom is the way men stan him, because in universe, theyd literally be the kind of people homelander would fucking hate LMFAOOOO because they ignore all of these essential parts of his character because they are too busy wankin over ashley look at me

[jams-sims]

Listen there so much depth to Philza character when it comes to relationships. That it bleeds over into the family dynamic that the Skull and Flowers family has going on. Im so normal about them yall can fill my inbox with questions about it but-

Theres a theme of being left behind or left alone for a long time that connect Skulls and Flower family. This leads into how Forever does not grasp the familiar nature of Philza. Plus I find it so interesting that Forever has pursued Philza even though Philza has Missa. Before I go into the theme of being alone and how that reflects in the relationships Philza has I wanted to touch on something else.

Firstly I noticed that in Philzas relationship he is not as grandiose in his show of affection. He dyes his backpack black and puts a skull on it for Missa. But never voices that he may miss him, he simply takes it day by day. He does the same for Wilbur, Tallulah and Chayanne. He takes endless photos of the kids and puts them in photos books. Philza way of loving and showing he cares is one that is super gentle and very light. This is also why inherently Forever and Philzs would never work. Forever is someone who is loud about his loves and wants. It ultimately puts Philza off, and would cause problems down the line to which Forever would question if Philza even liked him at all. Coupled with the whole Philza look like his ex problem.

Forever fundamentally does not understand Philza nor who he is.

I realized this when Tallulah asked Philza "why does everyone I care about disappear?" which is a horrible question to ask the man who is always left alone. Philza comes from worlds of God and Goddess that he never gets to see. In the sea of endless life it solely himself and the crows. (His 5 yeah world.)

When he traveled with the Blood God. That was truly a time when he was not alone, fighting and warring taking over a whole continent. But when they became part of the Arctic empire or more like when they moved out to the Artic to be far away from government. Philza again was left alone in the cold snowy mountains in silence. Only on the whim that Techno would wake up from hibernations. Then one day Philza was left alone for good and he left those snowy mountains back to the world of Gods.

Then he enters qsmp, he paired off and he has Missa and He has another child. An his Son had a kid and this is the most Philza world had been filled with people. But it doesn't take long for that to fall away. Missa leaves with no confirmation on when he'll be back.

He marries the Goddess of Death and he never gets to see her but she is with him always.

His first Son appears but soon leaves for his band leaving Philza with his daughter. Wilbur is gone for so long. That it now seems as though Tallulah is Philza kid. An now Philza has a daughter and 2 sons. I don't even think Forever knows that Wilbur is Philza kid.

Philza is fundamentally a man left alone for so long that the loneliness and and silence is something he is so deeply connected with an understands. That it would break the spirit of any other person. That he is always waiting and will always wait forever.

Forever comes in with this light hearted air and it's refreshing. But the callous skin that has grown over Philza is so tough that Forever could not even make a dent. Because Philza devotions to the people he waits for is a endless. He waits for Goddess of Death, He waits for his son (wilbur), He waits for Missa. Forever says he loves him but he does not know him. An Philza does not wait for people for them not to see him. An I think that is what we were getting from Philza during the wedding. Your proposing to a man that you do not know the of life not the blood, sweat and tears.

But the waiting and loneliness doesn't just end with Philza. It is like baked into family core. Wilbur is alone and waited for his father when ever Philza disappeared. Chayanne wait for Missa to come home. Tallulah is becoming more like Philza in the way people leave her. But it's that type of trait that i don't think Forever could honestly deal with it. That could lead to a great resentment from a place of obsession. I should note that I don't think philza feels that loneliness anymore. I think those are so deeply rooted in him. That it's normal to be alone that he probably feels peace being alone. But I'm sure he was like Tallulah before but with no one to comfort him.

But that is the family Forever is trying to be apart of that he does not see it. He does not see beyond the looks. Even if there are an inkling of truth behind those words he says.

[gaoau]

一 ; one ; uno

it's so cold warnings — none. word count — 4.0k

next.

ive long realized plenty of things i never needed—the past is never behind us, the present is fleeting, the future doesnt exist. theres a wrinkle in the sands of time. theres a fault in the fabric of the universe. there are many flaws everywhere i look. sano manjiro lies dead before me. mikey lies dead before me. blond hair and a dragon tattoo because we both miss ken. black hair that makes him look too much like shin. white hair and dark bags covered in tears. how many times have i seen this already? why have i seen this already? everything is broken. its disastrous and confusing and suffocating. i dont understand what im looking at.

i remember, just seconds ago, i was busy beating up some random guys from a rival gang. theres a reason we rule over the kanto area. we dont back down from a fight. so where did i go? where am i? why am i seeing this now? these are memories of a future i dont have. these are memories of a future i shouldnt have. its enough to drive me insane when i think that this is all i get for being next to mikey. i hold my breath and choke whenever hes around. that intoxicating grace of his, the one that sets him apart from the world, has been flooding my senses for longer than i can take. and i let him, because i want him to be happy. this is all i get; blood, gore, pain, death, loneliness.

i dont want to think about mikey any longer. ive done all i could, it seems. id just like to be free for one moment. i still see it all, futures im not a part of, futures that takemichi has made sure to change.

he wears that godforsaken dragon tattoo like a brand on his neck. long hair hes kept dyed through the years because he doesnt want to cut it off, but he doesnt want me to style it for him. i look at him and i see ken. its torture. the years have gone by, im still by his side, he still has me locked in place. he hasnt smiled in what feels like eons. im okay with that. his smile, that empty, silent smile has always made my stomach ache. im not okay with that. hes a carbon copy of ken. we both miss him, i know. it hurts him more than me, even if im the one staring at a burning ghost all day, every day.

we're alone. im alone with mikey. im all alone when im with him. its cold on top of this building, in the corner of the world, secluded from the city weve conquered. i stretch out my legs, leaning against the wall, squinting at the reflection of led lights bending to hit my eye. mikey is still as small as ever. hes so small despite sitting on his throne like this. the gun i hold weighs on my hand. neither of us know how to properly handle guns. weve been drowning in this business for over a decade, but we're very clearly still children.

the safety clicks as i press the barrel under my jaw. "itd be so easy, dont you think?" the sound of my voice calls to him. its the only familiar sound in his life. its why ive been staying with him. i couldnt save him, but at least he still clings onto me like this. hes had me trapped for so long that i seem to have forgotten i was ever my own person.

his darkened eyes shift towards me so slowly. i see his face twist into a panicked frown. "whatre you doing?" he doesnt move from where hes sitting against the wall adjacent to mine. he reaches with his foot to tap my knee. stop, hes trying to say, dont even think about it. hes scared, i can tell. ive learned to read him like the open book he is. his light has grown dimmer through the years. hes angry, i can tell. hes wondering if ill leave him, too.

"nothing," i sigh. i lower the gun and leave it on my lap for a second. "m just thinking…" and i think. yes, i think. i know i cant leave him. he doesnt let me. he keeps me tied down to him. a chuckle falls, sardonic. i point the gun at him. "i cant die before you, mikey." ive promised. ive sworn to stay by his side until the bitter end—until his bitter end.

he doesnt bat an eye. "are you gonna kill me?" its funny how he doesnt care that im the one wholl be killing him. im just making my job easier for myself. i wonder what kind of face kisaki will make when he finds out what ive done.

"do you want me to?" i know he does. tonight ill see we find peace, manjiro. im the only one who he can lean on now.

hes quiet for a second. his eyes are like black holes as they swallow up all the light. he stares straight at me without expression. then, in a whisper, he begs, "…please." he doesnt say my name. no, he hasnt said my name more than once in our lives. he calls me by that stupid nickname he made up when we were hanging out at grandpas dojo.

i cant help the soft simper pulling at my lips. hes still the same mikey i know. he still struggles with asking for help, even if its me. but he still asks; hes still vulnerable in front of me. i pat my lap, legs stretched out just for him. "come here, then," i invite him closer, ready to welcome him with open arms, "rest your head for a bit." rest before you leave.

he doesnt hesitate. he never hesitates. in a swift movement, the back of his head collapses onto me. his eyes, the ones hes kept me trapped in for all my life, they dance around the vast expanse of midnight above us. "the stars are lovely today." stars i once promised to drag down to his feet if he asked. stars i swore wed always watch together.

i hum in agreement. "thats why we're here." everyone knows that stars only come out at night. we both know we're the two brightest burning stars in the world. we sit here, where people can see us burn and consume ourselves until we get crushed. "itll be over soon, i promise." the same way i promised him forever. ill hold him until the moment he dies. 

"thanks." ah, now he chooses to use my actual name. he can be so unfair. he could save a life, but he decided to take mine away instead. under his charm, i let him drag me down. we die hand in hand.

there are no tears; not from me, not from him. it seems weve both been waiting for the other to make the first move. hes so tired and so am i. with a singed throat, the words sting on my tongue as i remind him, "i love you, manjiro." theres no other feeling in the world like loving sano manjiro. i look into his darkened gaze and deny the truth staring back at me. its all a mess, scraping away at my mind. my love and hate look quite alike.

i can hardly tell light from dark or right from wrong anymore. mikey replies, "i love you." again, he dares not say my name. i hate him. he makes me go weak at the knees, even as i slump against the wall. i wonder if its him or the cross im bearing on my back, weighing me down.

mikey closes his eyes. he wants to let go. hes letting me go. its been years and hes finally letting me go. the wind howls and screams our names in my ears as i press the barrel of my gun to his forehead. we're stars; we'll burn, we'll rest, we'll disappear. we go down together. i shoot. his body relaxes against my legs. i feel the warmth of his blood seeping through my clothes. hes free. the gentle quirk of his lips tells me hes happy hes dead. maybe im just making it up. maybe i just want to believe ive done something.

i lift my head to the sky. the gun is warm against my skin. my pulse doesnt tremble when i pull the trigger.

im free.

but we arent free. i walk into his room to find mikey slumped against a corner. hes here again, a ghost of ken. how come his eyes grow darker every time i look? i scratch away an itch on the underside of my jaw, clearing my throat to let him know im here, it's me. he doesnt bother lifting his head for me. i stand right in front of him, bare feet centimeters away from his crossed legs. ive heard what hes done. he didnt check in with me before killing our friends. if takashi dies, then i stay. if pah dies, then i stay. ken and kei died, so i stay. he knows ill follow him to hell.

it hurts me, too. he cant let go of me and hes bruising my wrists. i want him to be happy. i want him to be free. i want to be free. "takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu." the list rings with poison in both of our ears. how did we get here?

"takemicchi got away," he mumbles. i highly doubt takemichi matters much right now. we stopped trusting him long ago. he changed after bloody halloween and mikey couldnt understand why.

i crouch to try and meet his eyes. charming, deadly works of art. viral. it's been years, but he still holds me in his gaze. "never woulda guessed chifuyu was working with tora. after killing kei, i thought for sure he wouldnt forgive him." theres no sugarcoating needed. i dont censor my words. his wounds are fresh and i keep digging my fingers into his flesh to make them deeper. i make all his mistakes real for him because he wants to be scolded. he cant ask for sympathy—he only asks for cruelty.

theres a pause. a silence that hangs. it's heavy, stagnant. it pulls at the seams. "kazutora needs to go, too."

my knees come in contact with the floor as i lean towards mikey. i wrap my arms around his head, cradling him to my chest. hes still warm. he rests his forehead against me. "theres no time, mikey. you cant do this any longer." youre falling apart, manjiro. i pull my gun from its holster, cocking it as i bury it in his hair.

"set me free." he pronounces that stupid nickname, chaos of my real name. i cant discern if hes begging or ordering me.

i hum softly. he put his trust in me. "i love you." he nods. the gunshot echoes in the quiet room. it rings in my ears. i see splatters of mikeys blood on the wall. i feel his body relax in my arms. with the barrel against my temple, i shoot myself free.

a headache splits my skull apart as i watch this unwind. have i seen this before? no, mikeys hair is pitch black. im glad he doesn't let it fall over his forehead. i don't think i could bear to look at shin so much. i was adamant to cut it for him when he asked. the list is the same, though much longer. takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu, tora, the twins, hakkai, even ken. hes talking with takemichi now. it's easy to tell what mikey wants from him. im no good in this future. i don't have what takemichi has.

there is nothing left here for us. i wait among the shadows and debris, listening to mikey confess all his crimes. he veered down the wrong path. ive kept by his side all this time, holding him at his most vulnerable, but im not a savior. takemichi can save him in a way i can't. all ive done so far is push back the inevitable. mikey falls victim to his dark impulses every time. who am i to stop him? he keeps the safety of his gun on; i don't. i can save myself.

"kill me," he says. i feel like ive heard that before. it's not directed at me, though. i won't stop him. all mikey wants is to die and be free. that's what i want, too.

takemichi is, understandably, confused. he doesn't get it. maybe that's why mikey has chosen him. takemichi tries to figure out what mikeys trying to tell him. he asks about the friends hes murdered. it must be frightening for him to hear his former commander speak so nonchalantly about setting hakkai on fire. he asks about me. mikey glances at where im hidden. i catch the look in his eyes. those eyes that had me wrapped around his finger when he so intensely stared into my soul. they quiver.

hes helpless. hes scared. hes tired. hes horrified. he doesn't know what to do. he pounces on takemichi and threatens him. then a gunshot rings. it's not mikeys, it's not takemichis. and it's certainly not mine. mikey is dead. mikey is free. i swore to him that i would see him to his end. we die hand in hand, don't we, manjiro?

tachibana naoto, hinas little brother shot him. i remember her mentioning him to me once. ironic how hes the one to kill mikey, of all people. as takemichi cradles mikeys dead body in his arms, i step out of my waiting spot. it alerts both men instantly. naoto is wary of my presence, but takemichi believes in hope. he exclaims my name with enthusiasm. perhaps he thought mikey had killed me as well when he didn't answer. as if mikey would ever let me go.

"im just here to pick him up," i let them know i mean no harm.

naoto is a cautious man, if anything. "takemichi-kun, get behind me." id never do anything to hurt takemichi. he doesn't need to be worried about me.

i kneel before takemichi, extending my arms out. i remove mikeys burdens from his chest to take him away with me so we can both find peace. his blood smears on my clothes and i know takemichi will have a hard time forgetting this sight. mikey doesn't weigh much. it's painful knowledge.

as i haul mikey away, takemichi calls, "wait!"

there's nothing left to say, though. mikey has confessed all his crimes. mikey has confessed all his pains. "it's over, takemichi." i can't bring myself to curse him with that stupid nickname after all these years. "it's finally over." we're finally free. welcome home, manjiro. i wonder, if i smiled, would it hurt him? it'd be genuine happiness, but it's not like he'd be able to read that, so i don't. mikeys body is cold and stiff against mine. i let him rest against me, eyes closed and dried tears on his cheeks. he hasn't cried in so long. he leans his head on my shoulder. he always does this when he lets his vulnerability show. "i love you, manjiro," i remind him. hes all i have. i press my gun to the roof of my mouth. i don't get to taste it.

it's never over. my tongue feels dry when i chew on it out of anxiety. ive heard three shots. i see haru waiting behind a corner as mikey finishes his business. i didn't even glance at takemichi before i decided i couldn't do this. i wonder how much longer it'll take mikey to come up here and join me. this is the tokyo we conquered; this is not the dream mikey had. if he'd had a better moral compass, if he hadn't let ken go, if he hadn't put his trust in me, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

i hear footsteps behind me. here he is. i hug one of my legs to my chest, the other one dangling off the edge. we're on top of the world. it's a long way back home from up on this rooftop. he stands next to me in complete silence. so he's left takemichi to die. he was hopeless and helpless until the very end. i can't blame him. he's been through so much. he doesn't know how to share. he takes on all of the pain. he can only ask to be punished, because aid isn't a word in his vocabulary.

mikey pipes up, "you've been waiting for me here?" it doesn't surprise him at all. i know him like the back of my hand. this is how he takes responsibility for the last decade of misfortunes. he'll end it all.

"i couldn't bare to watch you keep making these mistakes," i reply truthfully. ive seen this before. i glance up at him and he glances down at the street. don't look down, manjiro. you won't survive this trip to hell.

it sounds like he wants to laugh. he doesn't. instead he brings back a conversation we had when we were fourteen. "that's why you're better than me." hardly. he says that stupid nickname clinging to me like a curse.

"after you." i motion towards his kingdom, to the path covered in blood and snow.

mikey looks at me briefly, quiet. then he cranes his neck up at the sky. "you won't stop me?" i see the tattoo on his nape. he put it there so he wouldn't have to look at it. it burns on his skin as it burns on my shoulder blade.

"i can't." i don't have the rights to stop him. i didn't do it in other timelines, im not going to start now. this is the only way for us to be free. it's tragic how unfortunate we are. maybe we deserve it.

how does one normally respond to a friend committing suicide? how does one respond to a friend letting them commit suicide? it's not what mikey does when he hums. "i'll see you later." he disappears into his own mind. whose face is he seeing? shins? emmas? i would hope. "everyone, let's do this!" there's a grin on his face. ive missed it. he hops off the roof and away from me.

"ill see you later."

i hear haru screaming all the way from the street. he's distressed. he's been with manjiro just as long as i have. mikey trapped him the same way he trapped me, but somehow worse. i know im not free as long as i stay next to mikey. i stay out of love and selfishness. haru stays out of fear and obsession. i know im not free, but im still my own person.

and i don't fool myself.

mikeys falling to his death, peaceful. an arm shoots out from the building and latches onto him. i smile bitterly, a sigh tumbling from my lips. "sucks that death is a bit of a bitch for both of us." i want to jump, too. i stick to my perch and swallow my pride, because im my own person, but im not. i can't die before mikey, i can't leave him alone.

i see the tears pouring out of his eyes. he begs for help, finally, for the first time in his life. it's enough to make me cry, too. he's being weak for the whole world to watch him burn himself to oblivion. takemichi scolds him. he struggles to hold on when the cross he's bearing weighs him down. twelve years of pain make him slip from his saviors grasp. there's nothing i can do.

blond hair and passive, ken's tattoo, black hair and chaos, izana's earrings. reality is broken for me, pieces of different timelines scattered on the floor. i have all these memories that aren't mine. mikey lies dead before me in a billion angles no one else can see. i don't understand why im seeing this now. i know ive seen it before. it's been two years since i last had to suffer through this. time is shattered and it hurts.

i hear that nickname ring in my ears. when i blink, mikey's corpses are gone. there's a weight in my hand and it's not from a gun. im gripping an unconscious boy by the collar. my knuckles sting. the skin of my hands is split open, bleeding. i remember now. we were wiping out a rival gang that challenged us. i turn towards mikey, trying to blink him into focus. "sorry, what'd you say?"

he stares back at me with hollow eyes. there's a tiny furrow in his brow that others wouldn't be able to pinpoint. "let's go," he repeats, nodding his head for me to follow him. i see haru and koko waiting for us behind him. they both look away when i catch their gazes.

"oh, yeah." i clear my throat. the kid im holding slips from my fingers and crumbles on the floor. his head bounces when it hits the ground. next to the blood splattered on the dirt, a tear drops. i realize it's mine instantly. im crying. i wipe at my eyes with my sleeve to pretend nobody saw me. i don't think i can explain what's made me cry like this in the middle of a fight. there's a discomfort in my throat, and remnants of a headache pulse in my temples, and the roof of my mouth itches. im still crying. the tears fall, but i feel nothing. this anguish isn't mine to feel.

i cough into my fist as i walk to stand next to mikey so we can head back. there's an open gash on his leg that he's ignoring. what's a little wound to the invincible mikey, after all? i know nobody is invincible, let alone manjiro, because i know people die, because ive killed him with my own two hands. ill take care of it for him later; mikey is my responsibility. he waits for me to join him. my shoulder brushes against his. he glares at my tears so intensely. "are you okay?" he asks quietly, like he doesn't want the two boys ahead of us to hear.

i turn my head to find his eyes. it's like he's trying to bring all my deceit to light, like im not allowed to hold secrets. i see those black holes that swallow up his own deceit. all i see, rather than the mikey right in front of me, is his corpses in variety, because i killed him, because i let him die, because that's what he wanted and that's the only way he could be free. so i clear my throat again, "yeah, just got dizzy." he knows it's a lie, instantly. my voice doesn't waver when i lie, but it gets small. he knows.

he lets silence hang for a moment. "did you eat today?"

i shake my head. "i was waiting for you." my attention flutters back to the two boys a few paces ahead. they're awfully quiet.

so is mikey. i feel him still staring at me. "okay." and he looks away, too.

[rcsewcrld]

the folklore love triangle pt.1

part 1: cardigan vol.1 (0.00-0.58)

content: kissing (obvs), minimal use of y/n, basically just the folklore love triangle idk :), no upside down!au (years the same e.g. steve’s junior year is 1983-84, senior year 1984-85, graduated and living in hawkins in ‘86, same with y/n, eddie held back for his second senior year in ‘86, making him the same age as steve + y/n :D)

a/n: i hope u enjoy! i can’t stop thinking about this series. when i was out today all i could think about was coming home and writing this im ngl bahaha :D

series masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

24th July 1986, Present Day.

“Stevie, I’m gonna miss you so much.” You whined with a pout as you clutched desperately at the neck of your boyfriend’s white polo shirt.

“Baby, I have to. Believe me, I don’t wanna be holed up in some fancy schmancy country club with a bunch o’ stuck up moneybags either but my Dad wants me to. Somethin’ about ‘making good connections’.” Steve glanced down at your widening eyes that were brimming with tears. Maybe it was the sweltering July heat or the fact that you’d been together for so long but Steve most definitely would drop the whole trip if you asked him to. Right then and there.

But you knew it was important to him to please his Dad, although said man was absent from his son’s life for most of the time that you had been in it. 

“I love you so much, Steve.” You buried your face in his chest as his arms tightened around the thin fabric of your flowered sundress.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” And with that his father whisked him away, to a country club in another state too far away. Any distance over a metre between you and Steve is too far away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

October 1984, Flashback

Vintage tee, brand new phone, High heels on, cobblestone, When you are young they assume you know nothing.

You and Steve had been a bundle of drunken roaring laughter for the best part of an hour. You’d been traipsing through neighbourhood after neighbourhood in a messy, giggling stupour after a two hour stint at ‘The Hideout’. You’d listened to a few bands performing, sure, but the drinks had come in masses.

“D’you remember that time in-“ You hiccuped in the middle of your sentence, your ankle wobbling as your high heels disagreed with the cobblestone of the sidewalk, which led you and Steve into another fit of obnoxiously high pitched laughter. All of a sudden, you noticed your best friend had stopped laughing. 

“You’ve got something in your hair.” He reached forward and your eyes unashamedly zeroed in on his biceps flexing in the short sleeves of his vintage t-shirt he had proudly shown off to you soon after its purchase, knowing that you liked that sort of stuff. At this point, he had removed whatever was in your hair but your close proximity remained the same.

You locked eyes underneath the dim glow of the amber streetlight beaming onto each of your faces. Steve took notice of the shadows it created, accentuating features he had fallen in love with in middle school. Now it was your Junior Year of high school and he still fell in love with them every day. He just hadn’t told you. You took notice of how the light reflected in his eyes, the golden flecks it created in the pools of chocolate brown that you’d loved for so long. You just hadn’t told him.

“Kiss me. Please, Steve.” You slurred slightly.

And he did.

April 1985, Flashback

Sequin smile, black lipstick, Sensual politics, When you are young they assume you know nothing.

The distant thunk of your high heels descending the stairs had Steve turning around in an instant. When he saw your figure, every part of you that he had grown to love clad in a black dress, smile nothing short of charming and dark, shiny lipstick that made him want to kiss you forever.

“You look beautiful.” He gaped although he felt stupid because ‘beautiful’ didn’t feel anywhere near strong enough to describe how you looked to him

“Thank you, handsome.” Your face grew hot under his attention. Steve had been invited to one of his parents’ fancy dinners and was offered the opportunity to bring a plus one. If there was anyone that could make one of his parents’ monotonous events bearable, it would be you. Plus, he could show you off.

A comfortable silence set in as you both moved fluidly around one another to get on your shoes and coats. Before heading out the door you gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

“You really do look beautiful, my love.” He smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror. He circled his arm around your waist and you spun in his arms to face him. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He brush a strand of your hair away from your face and pulled you in for a long passionate kiss which left you both flustered and breathless, him with a dark smudge of your mauve lipstick on his lips. He wiped it off with a chuckle and led you out the door by the small of your back.

August 1985, Flashback

But I knew you, Dancin’ in your Levis, Drunk under a streetlight, I, I knew you, Hand under my sweatshirt, Baby, kiss it better, I, And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, You put me on and said I was your favourite.

“I can’t believe he called me that.” Steve muttered solemnly. You were both tucked up in bed, the bedside lamp flicked on. Steve had been resting his eyes and you were reading a book with your knees tucked up to your chest. 

“Stevie… you’re not worthless, honey.” The word felt bitter coming out of your mouth, despite the fact that you weren’t using it maliciously against him as his father had been. You bookmarked your page and set your book down on the bedside table. You crawled over to Steve and straddled his waist. He pulled you into a hug and you accepted, slipping your hand beneath his yellow sweater he had yet to remove for the night’s sleep. You rested your chin on his chest and moved your other hand to occupy his hair. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?” You mumbled sweetly. Proudly. If Steve wasn’t already on the edge of crying, he sure was now. But not for the same reasons before. 

That singular sentence spoken from the lips of the girl he loved most in the world in one moment could erase the hundreds of cruel words spat from his father’s mouth over a lifetime. A tear slipped down his cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. 

“I love you.” He blurted. Your mouth dropped open in shock. That was the first time he had said those words to you.

“And I love you.” Was your quick response. That’s all he had needed. He sniffled slightly and pulled you back into his chest.

You two fell asleep in that position and woke up in that position the next morning. You with your slippers still on your feet and him still clad in his bright yellow sweater and his marginally uncomfortable Levi’s. But that didn’t matter, he was fine as long as you were with him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n; first instalment, check! i’m not totally sure which part of which song i’ll do next however it’ll most likely be august vol.1 which will be the first part of the song so i hope ur excited for that! feel free to leave some positive thoughts down below (if u thought it was good) and if not just keep scrollin’ !!

[kadextra]

after my previous post, I decided to read ahead of the manhwa now bc I can’t wait!!! and I kinda feel like writing down some liveblog thoughts here while doing it :D

here we go, starting from chapter 184

[ MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!! DO NOT CLICK if you haven’t ever read before. I’m so serious its a lot of spoilers. pls just ignore this and scroll on ]

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ummm dokja saying “oh this scenario will be fine! don’t worry i’m prepared this will be problem-free & so very easy haha :)” + getting all emotional about his friends is setting off my red flag senses so hard. dokja you still have the fate message praying on your downfall….

dokja I’m scared. Dokja I Don’t Like This

ah. hah. the demon king guy is literally dead on the floor 🧍awesome

damn I knew this couldn’t be trusted and some plot twist would happen it was never going to be that simple. someone has to take the position now. I hate you nebulaes how about you catch these hands

OH NO JOONGHYUK?? YOU STUPID IDIOT STOP

my boys are fighting o(-(

yo wait turns out the world won’t reset even if he regresses??? but still :( he won’t be able to see this to the end and will get stuck back in the loop :(( joonghyuk has changed so much from the start and I’ve grown to like him a lot he doesn’t deserve this I’ll cry

OF COURSE DOKJA GONNA SACRIFICE HIMSELF INSTEAD. ITS HIS FAVORITE HOBBY!

dokja’s self reflection of how the reason he survived all the tragedies in his life is bc of TWSA & watching how joonghyuk never gave up…. the whole “it’s because you saved me so now it’s my turn to save you” from a person directed to their favorite character and their favorite story which was their life companion…. honestly I don’t quite have words to describe the way these lines make me feel. it’s just profound and deeply relatable

gilyoung my poor son he doesn’t want his hyung to die 😭

sighs it’s too late. at least demon king dokja looks cool…. now the wings fanart I’ve seen in passing makes sense…..

he’s a goner

I am going to be completely honest. I genuinely expected to be reading more of an epic shounen-style final battle where he uses all the cool corrupted demon powers and maybe goes a little wacky because that’s usually what happens in stories when the protagonist unlocks an evil power and has to fight his friends. NOT THIS????????

the situation has zero hope and he is just standing there one sidedly taking hits from his friends who are forced to kill him. while guiding them on how to do it. smiling and offering them words of encouragement. this is so devastating I feel sick

URIEL MY BABY seeing her cry is the worst it’s torture

of course his stigma is called sacrificial will

STOP

THAT ARTWORK

THEY ARE HIS LOVED FAMILY…… HE LOVES THEM ALL N JOONGHYUK WAS YHR PERSON HE LOVED MOST I CALLED IT I want to hit something

im full on crying now

all the constellations messages of they don’t wish for his death I’m not strong enough

reading this feels like getting ripped apart limb by limb

NO WAY THE FVGTIFJFJCKN HELD BY THE NECK THING RETURNS A THIRD TIME LIKE THIS??? STOOOPPPPPPPP

uriel T-T

he died

demon king of salvation

need to just lay here for a bit

ok I’m back joonghyuk is disassociating from the grief. relatable

“What if Yoo Joonghyuk went back and there was no Kim Dokja? or what if Kim Dokja never acted like this again? Yoo Joonghyuk was afraid of something for the first time.”

“He met Kim Dokja in his third regression and they became companions. Then he lost Kim Dokja”

he cares for him so much

a scenario without dokja.

whag did I just read

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UGH that was so good. emotional damage was an understatement now I get why ppl were warning me

why did I decide to do this in the middle of the night…. I need to stop now I’m tired but how am I going to sleep? im haunted with thoughts

it’ll take a bit longer for the manhwa to adapt this part but I’m honestly really glad I continued reading and got to imagine it all myself in detail first- it hit so hard. I’ll let it sit and take a few days break before I continue. excited to see how they adapt it into drawings and cry all over again cause this wound ain’t healing for a while

I have the need to recommend this story to all my friends and family

oh right!!!!

the other day I went through youtube animatics & saved some that I could watch when finishing certain chapters into a note (thank goodness most put a warning of when to watch in the first few seconds!)

since I finished 188, I get to watch this one :D

I just watched it

I cry myself to sleep

[lesbianatomy]

havent been on tumblr for a while but i have been rewatching yuri on ice recently (yes, its that time of the year) & ive been listening to stammi vicino almost non-stop (thank god spotify wrapped alr came out bcs im inclined to believe it wouldve been my top song for this year otherwise) so needless to say i have heard this exact song looped many times & tell me why i just realized that we hear two different versions of it in the anime !!!!!!

im sure many avid fans of the show have long known this already, which is truly embarrassing for myself, having grown up in a music school, but i digress. the first is the original stammi vicino, used in viktor's fs program (the one that yuri famously copies). the other is the duet version we hear during yuri and viktor's pair skate in the former's exhibition.

there are quite a lot of noticeable differences. firstly, the duet is cut in length; perhaps because they didnt require the full duration of the song for the part that it was included in or other reasons, but i think its notable to acknowledge the lyrics that were excluded:

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion

This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

this is taken straight from the yoi wiki page. essentially, in the original this can be interpreted as viktor mourning his loneliness and yearning for a great love. its highly sentimental but also bitter in a way, even. viktor's status as someone of incredible fame and talent has distanced him from life and love, which is ironic given that he is now skating to a love song. the music naturally reflects this: cmiiw but i think the ensemble fits the standard of an orchestra from the romantic period; you can tell from the dramatic use of percussion, wind instruments, and the grandiose crescendos and range of emotion in general. the way i see it, this very much encapsulates what viktor is actually skating about: it displays itself as a very bold declaration of love, in line with viktor's reputation as a legendary, almost mythic figure, but the reality is that no one is there to stay close to him. he is begging for a love that does not exist; an absence of it.

compared to the original, the duet is much more subdued, but no less sentimental. there is a sweeter, more assured quality to it that i feel is missing from the other version, which is clearly yuri's effect on viktor's life. i remember reading a fic recently about how the main instruments used in yuri on ice (the song) aka the piano and the violin actually represent yuri and viktor's respective roles in yuri's journey, though i believe they also took inspiration from someone else's idea. regardless, thank you to whoever it was that initially came up with that analysis!!!!! because of that i understand why the duet begins with piano instead of a wind instrument like in the original; another nod to yuri's presence. there's also a much clearer emphasis on the violin in the duet!

(also, idk about you but when i listen to the duet as it nears the end, even though they never show the full exhibition program, its so easy to imagine how they continue skating the rest of the routine. down to the ending pose & everything. just soooo visceral and excellent)

whew. long-winded rant about stammi vicino over. i love this song & i genuinely think that even if you have no interest in yoi you should still listen to the soundtrack (passacaille in barcelona & kamome are in my top 3). worth ittttt

[reanimationstation]

(same anon who wrote huge text about bendy female characters)

Oh also. I personally know people who hate Rose and Audrey because they weren't kind enough to Wilson Arch in FtB and Batdr so hm.

They genuinely get bashed for being uncomfortable by him by certain fans.

Very interesting matter indeed...🤔

tfw the character thats written to make people uncomfortable makes our protags uncomfortable 🤯🤯🤯🤯 /sarcasm

you could definitely read wilson as sympathetic (i guess....once again i barely remember batdrs storyline other than vague feelings of frustration) (EDIT: ty for the replies for reminding me that he REALLY ISNT THAT SYMPATHETIC hes just got some family issues and has acted like This for decades) and i dont think he's wholly evil but like. the way he acts is for a reason. his job in the story is to make the ladies/players Uncomfortable.

(note that this ISNT about his appearance. i know that there was some criticism when the game first came out about making the disabled old guy the creepily uncomfortable villain, and that's not what im talking about. put any grown man in place of his canon appearance and IM SURE THE CHARACTER'S REACTIONS WOULD BE SIMILAR)

both protags being female and being made uncomfortable by him is something that im SURE WASNT AN ACCIDENT. i have been in their shoes. im certain a lot of feminine (and not exclusively either) people around the world have been in their shoes. it reflects something that happens in real life and to me thats PART OF THE HORROR. you don't know how much i was SQUIRMING when i was playing batdr because oh god i felt audreys trepidation and i was impressed with how calm she was being in that situation. its about the power imbalance. its about being a woman alone (or alone enough) with a man. its about A LOT OF FACTORS

anyways i probably didnt word this perfect but at the end of the day wilson serves a purpose in the story and oftentimes that purpose is to make our ladies UNDERSTANDABLY uncomfortable. its not about how he looks, its about how he acts

[pjisskullourful]

hey my gorgeous ones!

so my funk is continuing(hoofuckinray). theres just some shit going on in my personal life& the emotional fatigue has bled into creative constipation& im really struggling to get much of anything written. i've switched off commissions for the moment, just wanting to take it a bit easy on myself while im trying to get back on my bullshit

as a please-dont-hate-me for the delays that are ongoing, here is the first almost 2k of chapter 25 of stained sheets. its all i have sofar, there are two whole more scenes to write so i genuinely cant say when you'll be getting it

thanks for any patience& understanding you swing my way. stay selfishly happy my thotties

You paused from closing the fly on your high-waisted pants - you had been trying on the outfit you wanted to wear to dinner tonight, but something had caught your eye, distracting you.

A jagged, dark line reached up from just above the waistband of your underwear. This stretch mark was brand new to your eyes. It hit you like an actual wound, your gut twisting and your mind racing.

As your throat clenched, you stopped caring about checking that your choice of outfit was cute or not. You hated this intruder on the side of your tummy. This new line was a failure on your part, maybe if you weren’t so lazy, or spent less time playing video games, you could have avoided gaining another mark in your ugly collection. You were frozen with the top of your pants in your hands.

How long had this mark been on your body? Had Damiano seen it - what did he think when he looked at it?

This was supposed to be a fun day - the day before Easter, and some friends of his were hosting a dinner that would end in an egg hunt through their garden. You were going to be meeting more of the people he had grown up with. But most importantly, you were getting to spend the whole weekend with him, there hadn’t been many of those so far this year. There was no Måneskin-business to take him out of the country, he was just your boyfriend this weekend.

You didn’t want to waste any of this precious time with your insecurities. You wished you hadn’t seen the line, because it hadn’t been as simple as noticing it. You were having a full reaction to it. The change of mood inside of you was almost a tangible sensation.

You didn’t know how to resolve it, you just knew that you wanted the unpleasantness to stop. Your  solution was to physically move away from it. You undressed without completing the try-on process, so desperate to walk away and pretend this negativity didn’t exist. You just needed to refresh yourself and then you would be able to get back on the right track.

“I’m gonna have a shower.” You loudly announced without knowing if he actually heard you. He might be outside having a cigarette, or otherwise occupied too far from the bedroom.

You went into the bathroom and stopped at the vanity, pulling your hairbrush out of a draw. You took your hair down and started brushing through any tangles. Standing in front of the wide mirror, it wasn’t easy to keep your concentration on your hair. Your eyes wanted to wander, to find other flaws in the reflection to tear yourself apart over.

Until you were given the perfect distraction. Your boyfriend came into the room, his figure filling the reflection behind you. He was dressed in only a pair of underwear, wearing a festive headband on top of his short hair. It was enough to make you smile, even though you had to feign annoyance.

“Take those off.” You said as sternly as you could manage.

“You got it, baby.” He said, promptly taking his briefs off.

You were amused, even as you rolled your eyes. You turned your back on the mirror, more than happy to put all of your attention on him. “I meant the bunny ears and you know it.”

The fuzzy rabbit ears remained fixed on his head as he furrowed his brow. “I’m confused, do you want me to put the underwear back on?”

“Damiano.” You warned, but this only resulted in getting him to say your name back to you, in a sing-songy way, delivered with a positively devilish smile. “I never should have let you take the ears from my office…”

His eyes grew wide and he pointed an accusing finger at you. “You were the one who took them.”

You let this unserious discussion progress, exaggerating your shock. “How dare you accuse me.”

“No, how dare you. I was just there to pick you up from work. You were the one who pulled them out of the cute little window display and put them on my head.” He said.

“I didn’t think you were going to walk out still wearing them. And I was kind of distracted, I was working.” You added to his recollection. “Now you must take them off before they get stretched or broken ‘cause I’ve gotta put them back, they’ll probably be part of next year’s Easter display.”

He resisted, still. “I like them. You have to agree that they look better on me than they did in the window.”

“I agree.” You said. “Now take them off.”

The thing that was stopping you from simply snatching the accessory off of him, was the knowledge of how getting too close to him would change this situation entirely. He could physically overpower you in an instant and any illusion of you having some control would be banished.

“You can ask nicer than that, kitty.” He said, very clearly enjoying this teasing.

“Can you please take the ears off for me, please and thank you.” You said, even clasping your hands together in front of yourself to further sell it.

He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t hear a single word you said. It’s kinda hard to hear you over all of those clothes you’re wearing.”

You reminded yourself how much you enjoyed being called a ‘good girl’ as inspiration to help you bite back any sarcastic comments. You even resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

You removed the two items that you were wearing - a bra and a pair of panties. You cupped your hands to either side of your mouth and spoke at a much higher volume. “Can you hear me now?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, did you have a request for me or something?”

“Can you please take those ears off for me, please?” You asked.

“Why, of course I can.” He said, plucking the accessory off of his head. “Here you go.”

You snatched it out of his hand, holding it securely in both of yours. “I’m gonna find someplace to hide these from you.”

“I can’t imagine why you would think that’s necessary. I’ll get the shower started while you do that, shall I?”

This made you pause from leaving the room. “Oh, you’re joining me?”

“Yeah, unless that’s not okay? I thought we should shower together, to save water.” He said.

You smirked. “To save water. Yep, that’s fine.”

You carried the confiscated item over to where you kept your work bag. It was enough to put it into your bag and shut the zipper. If he pulled it out of there he would be in the wrong - you’d both know it, and any argument would be in your favour.

When you returned to the bathroom, it was to find him standing under the stream of water. You were further distracted from your earlier issues as you admired how great he looked when soaking wet.

He turned his head and smiled at the sight of you, beckoning you in with a curling of his finger. You stepped in, sliding the door shut behind yourself. You shouldn’t have been surprised when he was instantly drawing you in for kisses, his hands cradling your face. There were times when the two of you could share a focused shower, spending as much time washing yourselves as you did making out.

But the look he had given you had indicated that this wasn’t the case for today. You linked your arms around his waist, indulging in this as the noise of the persistent water blocked out everything else. You felt how easy it would be to melt as his mouth worked tenderly against yours.

His hands left your face, slowly moving down to where the water had already reached. He started to kiss his way off of your mouth, his lips pressing against your chin before going lower. You couldn’t help arching your back into him as his lips worked across your throat. This was the closeness that you absolutely ached for when he was away, showers (like pretty much everything else) were so dull without him.

But -

“I need to wash my hair. This shower was supposed to have purpose.” You said.

He stopped what he was doing to look up at you. “Nobody’s stopping you from washing your hair. Look, I’ll even help. I’ve got lots of time to help with washing your hair these days.”

“I could return the favour and use my volumising shampoo on your hair.” You said of his well maintained buzzcut.

He wore a deadpan expression, blinking at you. “Hilarious. I swear, you’ve missed your calling in life. You shouldn’t be doing admin work- stand-up comedy, that’s where you should be. Netflix would give you a special so fast.”

“Because I’m a special girl.” You said as he let go of you to grab the shampoo bottle.

The intimacy wasn’t totally lost in this process. The two of you remained standing very close together (even though there was ample room for each of you in here) and you took every opportunity to touch him.

When he began to massage the shampoo into your scalp, you could have let out a moan of pleasure. You shut your eyes and soaked up every second of his attentiveness. His fingers slowly dragging across your scalp was the only thing that you needed right now.

“Stop making that face.” He said, his voice so stern that your eyes instantly snapped open, you were practically ready to apologise at once. “That’s a sex face and if you keep it up you’re gonna get me hard, which isn’t the purpose of this shower, right?”

You almost began giggling, you covered your face with both of your hands. “I didn’t mean to. I, I guess I was enjoying myself a little too much.”

“I’ll say.”

You parted your fingers to peek at him. “Did I really do a sex face?”

“Oh, yes. If you want me to get specific- it was your edging face. When I see that face I know that I’m doing it right and your brain is getting all empty.” He said before instructing you to tilt your head back under the stream of water.

As he rinsed all of the product out of your hair, you physically cringed. “Oh my God, I hope I don’t make that face when they’re washing my hair at the hairdressers.”

“Relax baby, I’m the only one who knows that face is linked to naughtiness.” He said.

You tried your best to stay in constant awareness, and control, over your facial expressions as he conditioned your hair. The lack of massaging on your scalp kept you from that floaty feeling.

“What do you think, is that up to your standards?” He asked, losing the careful look on his face that he had been wearing during this task.

You tested his work by running your fingers through the ends of your hair. “It feels perfect. Thank you, Daddy.” You reached out to tap the end of his nose.

[ggukkiedae]

Hi! I was wondering how would each of the BTS members describe Yoonmi’s impact on them and how she has grown over the years in an a documentary/interview?

hi! okay i love this question! im gonna touch up on this without too much detail for now though bc i think i might do something with this type of content~

jin would say yoonmi is probably the person who taught him that you get to choose the people you keep close in your life. he saw how she carefully picked her trusted friends, and those she decided to keep close stayed. even her biological birth givers were never heard from again because she chose to cut them off, and he admired her for the courage and strength she had to do that. he'd say she grew from an scared uncertain little girl to one so sure in herself and her friends that she's become very confident

yoongi realized he was capable of taking care of people as well as not judging people by their appearance at first because of yoonmi. she showed him that people are capable of whatever they want to do, like how a little girl like she was when he first met her was capable of writing and producing music and just needed a little more guidance due to age and inexperience. that's why he took her under his wing. she has been and always will be his kid, and he's just proud to say that she grew to be more sure of herself and confident while maintaining a genuinely humble mindset

yoonmi's impact on hobi is a lot more subtle, but he'd say she was like a power source for him, making him believe in his name even further. on rougher days when he wanted to just throw the towel in and go home, she would take him to the han river or to the company's rooftop and just hang out, talk, or freestyle until the spark lights up in him again, and it worked vice versa he watched her in pain for years until she bloomed and thrived. that's where he says she is now, her thriving era

with namjoon, he'd say yoonmi helped him get more in touch with the world outside himself. war of hormone was probably a big part of that, where she kinda explained to him why people may think it off and why she wrote her verse the way she did to balance it out. now he'd say he's proud to see their baby standing out when all she did when she was younger was try to blend into the background wherever she was

it's common knowledge that jimin and yoonmi helped each other with their images of themselves as well as their relationship with food (although different). he'd name her as a guardian angel, making sure he's okay. he'd not that she had a period of reflection about who she was, especially while she went on semi-hiatus to focus on her senior year, and that she was finally doing what she encouraged him to do: explore different sides of herself

taehyung would say yoonmi kinda grounded him for a time being. when things got too much or started to feel unreal, yoonmi brought him back to reality. she's like his reminder of what's going on around him. he thinks she grew more mature and comfortable with embracing different sides of maturity, something he likes to say they have in common

THE ride or die, each other's halves duo jungmi! jungkook and yoonmi grew up together, so they're already pretty similar, but he'd say that yoonmi pushed him to work harder and grow more as a person. they helped each other out a lot, and they became a source of motivation and strength for each other. he'd say that she did get more confident and mature, but he would say she's more or less the same yoonmi that he's always known similar to how he's still the same jungkook as always just a bit more mature, and that's that

[kob131]

This an half attempt to answer your quiestion, but you are by no means pressured to read it as it is just too long.

Now that i actually sit and think about it a bit more, I think i shouldnt have called them trait, rather the Impact that having a fucked up parent such as morgan had on them. Im sorry that i cant exactly point it out but i will try my best.

Even gawain who is a geniunely good person, can be too persistent as it seems and im pretty sure morgan was a pro in that regard. Gawain is a good person but he can be a bit fucked up too.

agravain is the one who hates morgan's guts the most while still not being able to completley able to escape the Impact she had on him. Being raised by morgan literally messed the dude up. Seeing morgan's probable short temper in agravain wasnt that hard for me. When he hates someone, the hatred is quite deep whether you even did something wrong or not. The "i hate women" line, while being extremly memeable, does imply that morgan definitely isnt the best female parental figure someone could have.

For mordred..... Oh boy, being isolated and having morgan as the only consistent influencial figure outside of your idol who didnt even know you exist , she was really unlucky. Mordred has a short temper which seems to be the easiest to point out.

We dont Know anything about gaheris *dramatic sobbing* outside of the fact that he is probebly the tallest among the five of them.

Either gareth was too young to remember her, or her brothers and lancelot's influence washed out any possible fucked upness. I would say the Impact the orkneys had on eachother did matter even if it isnt really brought up.

No no, I love reading.

I can see how Gawain's stubborness could have come from Morgan, given that both of their actions in the end did more harm than good.

Yeah, Agravain does seem to share Morgan's vindictiveness and fury. Kind of ironic considering he hates women in part because of Morgan's actions while he perpetuates those actions.

And...it might actually be worse for Mordred. A key part of Mordred's conflict is her inability to define herself (her Bond 10 Craft Essence is literally named 'Who Am I?') and a key aspect to Morgan is that her life is split in three to her three different roles. Three different parts of herself she likely could never reconcile between them.

I've said it once and I'll say it again- Mordred is probably the one person who could fully understand her mother.

Though, it's not like Gareth's personality is entirely separate from Morgan. Agravain may have ended up with issues but Gawain ended up as a pretty upstanding if stubborn guy. And remember Gawain's the ELDEST of the Orkney so logically he was exposed to Morgan the most. For him to have grown up that well adjusted, Morgan had to have been a good mother at some point. And it's said she also acted as a good sister/motherly figure to Arturia before finding out the full truth. Gareth's personality could very well be a reflection of who Morgan was before things fell apart.

But yeah, the Orkney siblings most certainly do affect each other quite a bit. Gawain is said to be the closest with Gareth, Agravain doesn't hate Gareth like he usually would (instead having a 'complicated' relationship) and Agravain does care about both Gawain and Mordred since he called out to Gawain after he was shot with Rhongyominad and questioned the Lion King's coldness towards Mordred in the Sixth Singularity. Remember, Lancelot having a lesser part in the Fall of Camelot caused his to utterly loathe the man- by all rights he shouldn't care about Mordred. Yet he clearly does.

P.S. Yeah...I wish we knew something about Gaheris too. Best we know is that he teased Gawain about not knowing how much Gareth looked up him in Garden Of Avalon.

[puppiekit]

You know what seeing my tumblr homies talk about their ocs has really motivated me to do the same. So im going to ramble about the cast of my comic LOL

Firstly, on to the worldbuilding...

The world of my comic takes place in the far future, long after global warming has taken its course and messed up a good chunk of modern society. All of the rich have long fled to Mars, out of attempt to escape the consequences of destroying their home planet.

A few centuries later, however, they realize their attempts at survival are futile and attempt to return back, much to the anger of those who were left behind, and managed to rebuild all on their own. To say the least, their conflict quickly became violent.

To reflect the hard societal reset that happened on Earth, a lot of the setting and technology present is 70s / 80s / 90s inspired, with a fancier polish to reflect their place hundreds of years in the future, of course.

Inspiration...

Now, the world of my comic is inspired by many things!!! To help you gather an idea of what I have in mind, i'll list them here:

Now on to my silly skrunkly characters!!!

This is Laika, weird cat-dog thing, local societal menace, and genuine war criminal. Hes in his 30s, a short king (only around 5'3), and has all the pent up rage and anger to show for it.

In spite of his sad emo childhood backstory, I have crafted him specifically to be the most insufferable (in the most lovable way) character to ever exist on planet earth. Hes cruel, selfish, aggressive, short-tempered, and prone to violence (derives pleasure from the harm and vulnerability of others, really). He has 0 self awareness and loves to play the victim in every given scenario.

To put it in simple terms, he never mentally developed beyond his traumatized childhood self. Hes under a constant state of survival and self-preservation.

Now in his adult years, he works for the government to develop nuclear weapons. Despite his shitty attitude, he is incredibly smart, especially in regards to science / physics. Still, however, I think it is a rather dumb move on the governments part to hand a ticking time-bomb like him literal nukes. Might just be me, though!

These are Laikas coworkers. They do not have any individual references just yet, so sadly I must rant about them together based off of this puny sketch!

Goose:

Albino raccoon , he/they , Lead Engineer for the Government war effort. Also... Laikas ex! Awkward! This fool is 6ft+ and a walking brick wall of flesh and muscle, but lacks the self awareness necessary to come off as anything beyond mildly intimidating. He comes from a long line of Aviators, Engineers, and Pilots, birthing his life-long fixation on the subject.

Goose is air-headed, and endearing to those who only know him by passing. But in reality hes equally as insufferable as Laika. He's selfish, egotistical, and has a multitude of narcissistic tenancies. He will find any reason at all to passively-aggressively drag others down in meaningless, petty ways, just to make him feel better about himself. His tendency to place himself on a pedestal is almost entirely fueled by insecurities he refuses to acknowledge, which directly bounces off of Laikas hate-fueled enjoyment of picking at others.

He and Laika were childhood best-friends, High-School sweethearts, and lifelong partners... Before they both reunited after Laikas time on the battlefield, however, and realized they had both grown into something they can no longer tolerate. And yet their burning hatred has circled back around into some weird, toxic form of passionate love... Still hooking up and all over eachother, same as before!

Paradox:

Weird coyote thing, they/them, late 30s / early 40s ... Develops chemical weapons for the Government. VERY passionate about their work. Super into conspiracies. This scrawny canine is simply unhinged, to be totally honest. They couldn't be bothered to open up about their family or past, leaving their peers to wonder how exactly they became the way they did.

All that is known is that Paradox's chemical burns... Are most certainly caused from some past self experimentation. (They 100% DIY'd their own top surgery btw. They are indeed that genre of Transgender Scientist). Like the rest of the cast, Paradox is an ass, in one way or another. They lack total care of empathy for others. They have, and will, throw a baby in an incinerator for science.

Paradox lives in the basement of their workplace, pretty much, spending the good majority of their days working away at new weapons, committing unethical science experiments on Prisoners of War, or trying to frantically piece together proof that the moon landing was fake. (yes, even despite the fact that their entire War effort... IS IN SPACE). They are simultaneously stupid and genius, which is why I adore them.

Juno:

Borzoi / Afghan-Hound , she/her , 50s. A lot of people who see this woman call her... a MILF. And perhaps she is. But she is a very EVIL one. Your time with her will not be enjoyable brother. Besides, shes married, unfortunately for her husband. Juno develops Biological weapons for the Government. She was once a Biology teacher for a local Middle School, but lost her job after fighting a student.

Juno is ... A Karen. Mean, selfish, overtly-controlling, and will never pass up an opportunity to complain or jab at those she views beneath her (which is everybody ever, to be honest). If you ever see somebody yelling at a minimum wage worker for something stupid, that is her. If you've ever had to deal with a nosy, bitchy coworker, that is her.

Juno is very spiritual (the embodiment of those christian girls on Instagram who spew out bigotry with sweet bible quotes in her bio), she very much believes in the whole 'this crystal will ward off evil energy' thing. Shes also a vegan, and views feral animals as above society as a whole. She views her fellow man as pests, leeches on the Earth, who are cruel to the innocent animals that inhabit it.

She derives pleasure from using her live for biology as a means for harming/killing her fellow man, and usually in the most unethical ways possible. She has planted Termites in the homes of many of her enemies.

To make a long story short... This entire comic is about assholes living the most painful inconvenienced lives ever possible. It is hilarious. You should ask me about them btw pspspsps come here pspsps

[captainaikus]

✨Chapter 2✨ part 1

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO THIS I CANT BELIEVE ITS ALMOST BEEN A WEEK IVE BEEN MEANING TO READ IT AS SOON AS IT CAME OUT BUT LIFE GOT IN THE WAY BUT IM HERE NOW BELLE!!!

OH HO HO WE’RE STARTING WITH THE LETTER??? YESSS I COULDNT WAIT TO SEE WHAT SHE WROTE. *reads the first metaphor and starts sobbing* it’s a diary. ITS A DIARY OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP THROUGH HER EYES IM SOBBING RN. I honestly love the idea that Oliver doesn’t have the best relationship with his family. Adds more spice yknow? WAIT WAIT WAIT. HES READING THIS??? THIS IS HIS POV??? ASDHJHHFJJFFHHHFFF THIS IS AMAZING. Also I love how hurtful the readers love is portrayed in the diary. Making him read your years worth of heartache gives a chance for him to reflect on his actions. Oliver having Viking ancestry??? That’s a yes from me!!!! Not him already unconsciously planning a date to take you to see the northern lights and only being able to imagine your face. BOY YOU ARE DOWN SO BAD. WAKE UP ALREADY. NOOOOOOOOO NOT THE DREAM RELATIONSHIP. BELLE LOVE PLS. You’re killing me rn *sobs*. That scene with her framing abt their future relationship and his hand hosting over here whilst giving him a back hug was written so well I can literally feel it happening adhkhdhkgfjhgf ugh. God reading the diary entries was so painful. I can practically hear the riding and falling octaves of hurt and desperation and hollowness and acceptance. *cries* BELES IM NOT EVEN HALFWAY THROUGH YET HOW CAN I GO ON LIKE THIS???!!? *proceeds to keep reading* NO BUT HIM REALIZING HOW HES MORE THAN JUST A SCUMBAG IN SOMEONE EYES SOBBING SCREAMING CRYING RN BELLE. I really do this that he doesn’t view himself as highly as his ego on the field does. Aside from soccer, I feel like Oliver would have a few self worry issues. You’re making me think abt his character more and this isn’t even an analysts post asfkjgfggiij. I love how you’re exploring him as a person through his relationship with the reader. It’s really hard and tricky to develop a character using a relationship they have with someone else but you’ve done a fantastic job with it love!!! Oh timeskip?? I love your dialogue writing so much, you really make y/n have a personality and Oliver doesn’t just have the 2 traits of soccer and playboy. Uh oh not the mother call. You really know you’ve messed up royally bad of you get a video call from mom with the look. Rip Oliver you will forever be remembered in our memories. WE LOVE MOM IN THIS HOUSEHOLD FINALLY SOMEONE TALKING SOME SENSE INTO THIS MAN SERIOUSLY QUIT BEING AN ASS OLIVER I SAY THIS FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR HEART. I love how the loneliness slowly creeps up on him in the little things tho. The extra groceries the empty bedroom the lack of the faucet running in the morning just ugh yes I love it all. I wanna bet that he hasn’t had a girl over or even thought abt having one over since she left cage she’s all he can think abt. I’m right aren’t I? Yup I was right. FINALLY. ITS ABT DANG TIME. NOW PRESS THE CALL BUTTON OLIVER OR SO HELP ME-. Noooooo not the voicemails. This is a risky so freaking sad to read. He’s hurting so bad but I’m still kinda mad at him so like ugh. THE GASP I LET OUT WHEN I READ THAT HES GETTING A TATTOO FOR YOU *SCREAMETHS* I’m still grinning like a crazy person asdjjfgjkhghh. Maybe not the best emotional decision while drunk Oli BUT THE SYMBOLISM THE SYMBOLIDM IS WHATS GOT ME GRINNING LIKE A FOOL. Belle you’ve got me loving all the angsty stuff *cries*. wait what. did. did I read that right???????? 6 years????? 6???? Six??????? ITS BEEN 6 YEARS SINCE THEYVE LAST SEEN EACH OTHER IM-. *wheezes and continues to furiously scroll* Oliver don’t you dare lie to yourself and say it was a drink regret we all know it wasn’t. The time skip was well place though. Unexpected but understandable. It was really needed and they’ve both grown separately which is what I was really hoping for. But see. Since the time skip was so early. I know there’s gonna be a LOT of drama upcoming. And I for one cannot wait!!! Sobs not him carrying your diary with him in his bag everywhere he goes like a lost wayward lover. That’s so mystical and romantic. Never through I’d use those two words to deserve Oliver of all people but your writing is just that good.

- ✨ anon

✨Chapter 2✨ part 2 Note: I cant believe it made me divide my ask into 2 parts tumblr do better smh That’s so mystical and romantic. Never through I’d use those two words to deserve Oliver of all people but your writing is just that good. CRIES KNOWING HE PROBABLY THOUGHT HE SAW A GLIMPSE OF YOU BUT IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE EVERY TIME AND HE WAS LEFT SO HEARTBROKEN AND SAD AND DISAPPOINTED EVERY TIME. OOF. Big oof. 6 years and no women huh? You messed up big time bud. Thank your wife Belle that’s she’s kind enough to give you a (probably) happy ending with this fic (I hope). NOT HIM SLOWLY ADOPTING YOUR MANNERISMS AND HABITS AS THE YEARS WENT BY. Seriously you pulled out all the heartache stops for this chapter Belle. Prediction. Why do I think the chapters gonna end with them meeting again? Cries. Yes. Wallow in despair and mistakes Oliver. It’ll be much help in your character development. Oliver honey. You can’t do this to me. Pls I cant take the pathetic heartache. And the strangers wondering what’s got him looking so sad too??? Stan me now why don’t you? UGH BELLE THIS US SO FREAKING GOOD!!!! Shout out to Sendou for being a true friend. I wonder if his relationship will Oliver will be developed a little later on too? Maybe. No. No no no. Ohhhhhhh my God. NOOOOOOOOO IM SCREAMING RN BITING MY PILLOW I SO DID NOT THINK YOU WERE GONNA GO THIS ROUTE BUT I HAVE NO COMPLAINTS. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I JUST ASFJHFGJFFHGDFGFFGGG SHES HERE ISNT SHE???? SHE WANTED TO SHIW THEIR DAUGHTER HER DADDY AND SEE HIM TOO UGH I AM BELLE YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. “Staring into the camera wondering if you were watching him” BOY SHES IN THE STANDS WITH YOUR DAUGHTER. Not me slowly losing my mind over this new development don’t mind me asdfjkgggjjj. Ohhhh okay so my prediction for her being in the stands and having their daughter watch the game intentionally was false BUT I MIGHT STILL BE RIGHT ABT THE CLIFFHANGER ENDING LETS SEE. Pshhhhhhhhh Oliver bring bad with kids is actually so hilarious to me. God having a daughter makes so much more sense now with the context of cutting off contact and the little details. You could have predicted but it was a very low chance you did that part so well girl!!!! ASTJFDHKIFFJKUFFGJJUFDFFFF NOT THE OLDER SISTER!!!!!!!???? WILL SHE LET THEM MEET OR NO??????!!!!! AHHHHH I CANT TAKE THIS. AND I WAS RIGHT ABT THE NANES BEING SIMILAR I DIDNT MENTION IT BUT I HAD AN INKLING. LIVI = OLIVIA = OLIVER????? Yessssss give me the parental relationship development and parent-child similarities. I literally speed read the rest of it cause oh my God I couldn’t stop myself. I loved this chapter so much. His resolve to win you back over??? FREAKING TOOK 6 YEARS AND A SECRET DAUGHTER BUT WE’RE FINALLY HERE!!!!!!!! Everything abt this chapter was amazing and I loved it so much seriously you did an amazing job with this!!!! The formatting and borders look fantastic btw!!! I cannot wait for the next chapter but pls pls pls ake your time and don’t overwork yourself sweetheart!!!! And again I’m sorry for the late response and lack of interactions. Life got busy and I’ve been occupied mentally with friendship stuff. Sighs. Anyways. IM GLAD TO BE BACK NOW THO!!!! I wanna catch up!!! How are you love? How’s break been? And uni? Are you feeling better? I hope you are!!! And that you get all the writing inspiration and kudos on ao3 (unfortunately I can’t spam the kudos button or I would have) and much interactions on your blog!!!! ALSO. Question. But would you prefer me writing the reviews for the chapters on your blog or in the comments section of the fic on ao3? *sending many virtual hugs* - ✨ anon

FINALLY. the much awaited reply - I really loved reading every min of this and now I'm gonna talk about every small detail of it so it's gonna be a long ask. So yeah lets dive right into it ! We did start off with her diary. And YES. the story is a dual perspective one so there is developments on Oliver's side as well. The idea of him having viking ancestry came from vinland saga for me as well as the study of vikings - most of them came from the nordic belt so there was a possibility of that and honestly... viking! Oliver? *fans face* Now the whole thing abt the back hug and that scene? That was out of a dream I had a couple of months back that I was talking to blue about. I just love the whole narrative where you're hating him and loving him at the same time ToT

And yes! so one of the issues with Oliver's character (i'm not sure if you're reading the manga or not -) but even as a football player, he does have more addition to his personality than his nature and looks; adults took away his future from him. He wanted to be a striker but because of his coach, he had to give up that dream and become a defender instead. Another thing I like is making (y/n) have a personality as well as strong dialogues. One of the issues with fanfic writing is that the reader is also a if not the main protagonist of the story. Some of the (y/n)s out there (and I'm not saying this to stir anything up) are too soft spoken or give in too easily. Some authors mention that the reader is stubborn either through description or dialogues but they don't show it or show the reader being too dependent on someone. And honestly, I'm glad you brought out the point that the way I characterize people has more to do with stuff that really counts as a personality including Oliver since he has just been restrained to football and being a playboy -smh. Since my stories have less of smut and more of plot, there has to be character development and since I like seeing people blossom, might as well do it with the characters right? and in this case, its to do with time. he does get lonely - and there's an explanation for that in the story. So the story about the tattoo... I was planning on getting an arm tattoo done for him. like a fawn over the shoulder and then adding stuff to it... but Oliver doesn't strike as the type to get tattoos. So he got one on the ankle and...yeah no I'm not giving spoilers for further chapters just yet. |>.<| Ik the time skip seems big... but yeah. 6 years - I can't believe I fell for Oliver, then again. he's practically the only sane one in there and maybe Bachira... or else everyone is either depressed or feral. not in between literally.

6 years and Oliver hasn't had women. And ofc my story has a happy ending! - 'hurt me and put me back together' is my motto atp I'm glad that you're enjoying the angst starry - cause that's where most of my character development is. And there's more drama in the next chapter. So... did no one notice that Oliver didn't pull out? *laughing* well... yes. we did have a daughter. Oliver is actually terrible with babies. I'm happy to hear that i pulled it off well T.T Well... chapter 3 is packing. I already have a title ready And its fine! honestly- its good to take a break from tumblr once in a while So here's my update - I managed to put on weight during my break. 3 kgs/ 7 pounds consistently working out at the gym and uni... is exhausting. but we're working and I also bought a lot of books during break (chainsawman as one of them) and another one that I'm really engrossed in atm, Anything is fine Starry!! I'm keeping tumblr active in case someone wants to tell me something anonymous or discussions for character development. and I saw your comment on my fic on ao3 - i wanna say that I really appreciate it cause that was one of the first comments that fic ever got and I'm happy about it (gonna respond to it soon as well) *sending bear hugs*

Starry his collarbones are catching me off guard -

[dulrond]

im guessing from your post that you dont keep up w dan and phil so ill explain some recent events??

they came out in 2019 as gay and dan said him and phil were in a relationship but that they wanted to keep their current personal life private

dan then went on a whole bunch of solo projects like writing a book and doing his own solo theatrical stage tour. phil continued his personal youtube channel and dan featured in some videos.

during this time they had designed and built a house together and after quite a bit of delay they eventually moved into the house (known as the phouse). also at the end of 2018 they put their joint gaming channel on hiatus this is important info. so dan did a bunch of solo work phil continued youtube their house was under construction.

then last year after dan wrapped up most of his solo projects they suddenly unpaused the joint channel and brought it back! early on they mentioned how the channel would be kinda different now as everyone (dnp and audience) was grown up and openly gay. importantly as well they brought the channel back because phil really missed it and just wanted to give it a go again together and dan agreed. they didn’t really think a lot of people would care or come back to watch it at the time.

um i think one of the big shifts in the channel was their 2023 halloween baking video. the vibes are just way different from before and they seem so much more relaxed with making jokes

the content just kept going from there. i dont know how much dnp lore you know but they have an april fools channel where they make crafts except it’s actually a cult. well that also went on hiatus when they took a break from the dan and phil brand. then it came back this year and it was their best yet. it was also very gay.

then BOOM they announced they were going on their third joint tour together. again dont know how much lore you know? but their tours are always theatrical with like a musical singing element and a storyline. this time they are reflecting upon the dan and phil brand and the parasocialness that came from it.

so that brings us up to today (the day before tour begins). one of their recent gaming videos they played a couples cardgame. it was a gifted game from their sponsor so. they have never really done anything like that where it is so explicitly this is for Couples. this is to play with Your Partner. this is a Date Night Game. and like yeah it was gifted so there was a reason to play it other than that. but everyone in the phandom did not expect that kind of video. i mean the cardgame company (called relatable) gifted them other games months before so we knew about the date game as well. and then someone realised they own it as it was in the background of a photo/video i forgot. so we all joked like haha what if they play that,,, but then they did????

and then moreee recently is phil asked people for questions for a q&a. specifically he asked for tour or life update questions. it was very casual. for a bittt more context previously phil asked people to submit their favourite most popular dan and phil conspiracies they have ever heard about as it will be used in a segment in the tour. a HUGE theory back in the day was that dan and phil got married in japan in 2015-2016. so back to the q&a video. dan and phil immediately open it with will you address the japan conspiracy. there’s no more detail than that. and then they go what the one where we got married in japan? so first they know specifically which one but then SECOND phil says we’ll be addressing it as part of the tour.

so whilst dnp were very like. we aren’t sharing a lot about our relationship in 2019,,, since the revival of the gaming channel they have been slowly wanting to talk more about stuff. and now we are like ? are they actually going to talk about it explicitly and openly as part of tour?

im so sorry that was so long but i had no idea how else to explain it without all the context 😭

omg this must have taken you so long to write thank you so much 😭 i actually keep up with them but i hadnt watched the new videos yet and kept seeing gifs and prints from them and people were like being really cryptic ab what they were saying and doing do i was super confused 😭

[ohhcalamxty]

hello. its been a while? 5 years actually. what a place this is! what a trip down memory lane of many emotions.

a quick tldr: im 25 now, im engaged and live with my amazing partner and 2 cats. i am ed free (for the most part - i still struggle to love my body sometimes), clean, and i am in therapy! a place i never would have thought id be.

i didnt think id come back here like. ever. but ive been having nightmares of sam recently. its odd isnt it, how the brain works? i havent seen sam in 7 years? since the 2nd june 2018 to be exact, and yet he haunts me. why?

this is an odd correlation but recently i got into taylor swift. her music has been wonderfully cathartic and whilst i never assumed id be one of those girls who screams breakup songs and curses them at my exes....here we are.

TTPD (and most of taylors sad songs) unhealed me, so to speak, or at least awoke something in me. i wouldn't ever proclaim i have had bad relationships. i am always grateful for the time myself and owen spent together, and i am extremely happy with josh (I'd say 2/4 of my relationships being good is pretty huge) but here I am screaming and crying over break up songs at the eras tour and tearing up in the shower because they resonate with a point in my life and put my feelings into words in a way I've never been able to do.

elliot was interesting but i try not to curse his name so much as we were 14 and maybe he didn't mean what he did because he didn't understand consent, or maybe i am naive and too nice - i guess we'll never know because he quite literally dropped off the face of the earth! (Also, minor shoutout for him delaying dumping me because my grandma died! i do appreciate that at least!)

sam however....oh where do I begin with sam!

"Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?"

I think I spent a lot of my teen years reflecting on sam, because well, he fucked me up so much. i mean how emotionally spent must I be to have nightmares of someone who I spent less than 12 months with at the age of 16, and then collided with again for a single night at the age of 19. Clearly we're fucked here.

I cannot find the words to describe you, and I'm unsure what i did to deserve a love like this. You had a girlfriend that you loved and were with for years, and then I (your close friend at the time) got dumped, and you make your move. We hang out a lot, cool, fine, nothing new as we were friends anyway. My mind is hazy on how it started or when we went from friends to whatever we were but it haunts me so much lmao.

The constant talks of i was the one, and that yes I will leave her for you. I fear nobody ever talks about being the other woman because its so odd - it isnt a flex, it isnt cool or sexy. it fucking sucks and it fucked me up but i liked sam so much i believed it. I mean picture this: you're 16, just lost your grandma, heavily depressed, self harming, riddled with an ed and have been dumped but low and behold your best friend tells you he loves you and plays with your hair and holds you. we go on dates and have sleepovers with friends (he still had a gf btw) hes fucked up too but he worries and cares about you more than anyone else, but at the cost of if you try to pull away he hurts himself, and threatens suicide (and believe me he'd do it) - stuck between a rock and a hard place aye.

"And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts - Memories feel like weapons"

Less than a year of back and forth, misery and stringing along. I can't remember how or why it ended but I know it took a lot of attempts of pulling away (and him pulling me back) to get away. A lot of bits are hazy but I can assume it must have been around the time when I met owen? There are old screenshots on here of sam talking to me and they make me feel unwell (not an exaggeration) - his words (even after it all ended) and how he tried to act like he cared makes me feel like a pit inside (even now). I do however find it funny that my posts from 2015 and 2016 about him claiming hes ruined my life don't seem that dramatic now that im 25 and having nightmares about him.

"Oh, God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind - I regret you all the time"

I think I would have been ok if this was it. I don't think I would be grieving my past self, my girlhood, my naivety if this was all - i very much had support through my other relationships to help the sam trauma which i do appreciate. But it doesnt end here does it? Nah thats too easy.

"Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden"

2nd June 2018: Me and Josh had briefly split up. It was Karlies birthday and we went out in HTC (dire) and I guess because Hinckley is a tiny place and everyone goes to the same places we ran into a lot of people (some good some bad) - including Sam.

Ima be honest idk where he came from or who he was out with but there he was, buying me drinks, talking to me, I dont remember much but I can assume I was happy. I do however remember him leading me away, telling me we're heading to the next bar because that's where everyone else was going but we actually were heading in the complete opposite direction haha. god knows where we were going but on the walk we sat on a bench, i cried, i told him off, told him he ruined my life, he told me he'd missed me so much, he held me, i cried more, i hated him and then we just rinsed and repeated as he pootled me up castle street to wherever he was taking me. My friend rang me, I told them I was with sam, people came running (guess they all know hes bad news) and they (including josh, who was my ex at the time and ig technically hated me) beefed him until he left and that was that. I haven't seen him since - i still dont know where he was taking me or what his plan was. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I didnt answer the phone, sometimes I wish I hadn't and that maybe I deserved whatever would happen. Maybe I'm blowing it out of proportion, being dramatic, but the trauma of the emotions that 16 year old me feels is still there. It haunts me.

"Don't call me "kid", Don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me"

So here we are. I guess I'm bringing this up at therapy in a few weeks because these feelings won't disappear (and Honestly I'm not sure why they reappeared other than being repressed emotions). I wonder though, has this affected you as much as it as me? Do you feel bad about what you did? Are you suffering? Do you think about me? Do you feel bad that you had such control over me or did you enjoy it? Claiming you've lost sleep over me and that you want to protect and help me? Was any of it true I wonder.

"And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you too?"

I suppose I'll never know, but I can only hope that memories of me haunt you as much as they haunt me. I hope you get everything you deserve, and I hope I can heal. My skin is no longer the skin you touched, I no longer physically feel you, and I hope one day my memories of you will be hazy and faded, and I don't need to jump at ghosts anymore.

And my therapist wonders why I really dislike men huh.