#it's the tragedy of witnessing and accepting that all you can do is remember

[shomatoriashi]

09/13/24; 08:45pm

sung jinwoo x fem.reader

{ i’d wanna hold you just for a while | and die with a smile | if the world was ending | i’d wanna be next to you… }

you felt as though the world was ending when jinwoo left your side and went to fight the monarch of destruction. he had came to you just a mere day ago, keeping you company while in the safety of your apartment as various gates were seen opening all across the world.

whispered promises and vows of forever were exchanged between the two of you, with jinwoo keeping you safely tucked away within the confines of his arms. your anxieties had only managed to shoot through the roof when jinwoo told you how he had a plan to stop this war-

and bring everyone back.

but deep down, you knew that you were selfish-

that you would much rather keep jinwoo and have the whole world burn than to lose him.

yet you knew that jinwoo would never accept such a fate.

you knew that your beloved would always choose to protect others and shoulder the burden on his own.

when you tell him your fears, jinwoo only manages to give you a solemn smile, one that didn’t quite reach his ears, yet was evident of the love he held for you all the same. he allows your tears to stain at his shirt, gently speaking your name in hushed tones while holding you even closer to him. it was so obvious that you were the one he treasured the most, and everything that he did was to ensure your safety and happiness.

as the tears kept streaming down your face, jinwoo presses a searing kiss against your lips, swallowing all of your sadness and dread before whispering against your lips, “i’m happy… despite all my fears and uncertainty, i know that this is something that only i can do.”

you watch as his grey eyes shine with unshed tears from beneath the light of your apartment. feeling the pad of his thumb trace at your bottom lip, he murmurs before leaning down closer to you, “if the world was ending i’d want to be next to you… and die with a smile, because you were and always have been, the one who holds my heart- the one who is most dear to me.”

you allow jinwoo to comfort you for the remainder of the night, falling into a restless slumber as you were jolted awake from the sheer absence of him-

and the world thrown in complete and utter chaos.

surrounding you were casualties that you struggled to keep up with, your healing aura quickly losing its potency from the sheer amount of times you have used it on the other hunters-

yet your heart just wasn’t in it, for you were filled to the brim with anxiety, hoping and praying to catch a glimpse of your beloved once more.

your breathing becomes labored, feeling the blood of your fallen comrades staining at the fabric of your clothes. the losses you bore witness to made your throat clench, heart pounding as it filled you with complete and utter despair.

the tragedy of it all was what ultimately makes you fall to your knees, your powers growing weaker and weaker by the second as you struggled to heal an a-rank hunter. she was young, much too young to be suffering from such an intense amount of blood loss, yet you could see the light quickly beginning to dim from her eyes.

“n-no, w-wait! please, don’t close your eyes! ju-just—-!” you try to summon your mana once more, willing your healing aura to surround her like a shield when something distracts you from your periphery.

your eyes go wide, suddenly seeing an intense, golden light filling the entirety of your vision. all you could see was an almost heavenly hue that seemed to grow even brighter than the sun, engulfing you and the entirety of the world…

…

you wake up with a start, your mind going hazy as you struggled to remember what just happened in your dreams.

had the sunlight always been this painful to look at?

your thoughts, still in a bit of a daze, left you feeling a bit unsteady as you wake up in bed, looking around to see that you were in your room, with the scent of your mother’s cooking lingering in the air as your father’s heavy footsteps were heard throughout your apartment.

knocks were heard at your door before opening, revealing your dad with his crooked tie and kind smile. “hey kiddo, it’s time to wake up and get ready. it’s your first day back at school, and mom made an amazing spread for us both.”

“r-really? okay!” deciding not to dwell on your weird dreams, you hop out of bed with a bounce in your step. brushing out the tangles in your hair, you head inside your bathroom and got ready for the day while doing your usual morning routine. and by the time you had finished using the bathroom and got dressed in your school uniform, you had already forgotten all about the dream.

your appetite seemed to be ravenous, with you filling your plates with copious amounts of eggs, sausages, and pancakes. as your dad read the morning paper between sips of his coffee, he looks back at you and chuckles, “whoa kiddo, what’s the matter? you seem much hungrier than usual.”

“indeed, sweetheart. did you not eat enough last night?” your mom calls back to you while washing the dishes. you give your parents a sheepish smile, taking a bite out of your sausage while shrugging, “s-sorry, i guess i can’t help it.”

“of course! you are a growing girl after all.” your heart fills with warmth, feeling the love grow for your parents as you finished up your breakfast. as you hand your empty plate to your mom, a sudden knock was heard at your door. with your bag in hand, your dad walks with you toward the front door. “ah, as punctual as always, that jinwoo. it feels as though he’s got a bit of a crush on you.”

you blink, somehow feeling your heart lurch within your chest at the sound of the familiar name. “jinwoo?”

“he’s your best friend, remember? ah, perhaps you’ve been sleeping a bit too soundly as of late.” your dad answers the door, and you saw a tall boy standing outside of your apartment. the sight of his seemingly perfect face makes your heart skip beats, making you take him in as you stared incredulously back at him.

with soft, ebony locks of hair that fell across his face coupled along with kind, grey eyes and a jawline that appeared too sharp be real-

jinwoo was certainly a sight to behold.

“hey.” he greets you with that same, lingering smile, and despite how you still felt like you were in a daze-

your heart knew that it belonged to him.

with one final goodbye, your father allows jinwoo to take your hand, walking out of your apartment complex with you as a smile graces his handsome features. “you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

jinwoo teases you while pinching at your cheeks, earning a pout from you. with a sigh of his name, you purposely ran your hips into his, making him lose his balance for a couple of seconds all while scoffing. “hey! that was not funny! i could have face planted against the concrete!”

you giggle, somehow finding comfort within this banter. although you felt… strange… feeling as though you were reliving your adolescent years, you decided to ignore the lingering sense of deja vu and simply bask in this moment. you stick your tongue out at jinwoo, running ahead of him just to see if he would catch you.

you watch as he rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his backpack before taking advantage of his long legs, reaching you in a few strides before capturing you within his embrace. your laughter echoes across the city, with jinwoo holding you close his chest. “i’ve caught you now… and you’ll never be able to be free of me.”

your giggles continue to fill at the air, and when you try to free yourself from jinwoo’s grasps, he simply tightens his hold around your form. you blink back at him, your gaze seeming to silently question him as he looks back at you.

his eyes were solemn, but beneath those deep, grey eyes was an emotion that was brimming beneath the surface, the sight of it all managing to make your heart seem to race even faster beneath your chest. you watch as jinwoo leans closer, just to whisper in your ear,

“if the world was ending, i’d want to be next to you.”

as soon as that whisper was heard, he suddenly smiles back at you, finally letting you go, but not before interlocking his fingertips with yours. “come on, let’s go to school.”

jinwoo begins to hum, yet your mind couldn’t stop replaying those words he had just whispered to you just mere seconds ago. as you look down at your interlocked hands, you call out to him, “uhm, jinwoo?”

“hm?” he meets your gaze from his periphery, and you could feel the heat against your cheeks.

“do we- i mean… do you know me from somewhere or sometime in the past?”

his eyes go wide, your question seeming to catch him off guard for a brief moment before he smiles. with a strength you didn’t think jinwoo had, he pulls you even closer to him, placing a kiss against your cheek as you felt your heart soar in response to his next words:

“of course… to me, we are, and always have been, two souls who were always meant to be together.”

end notes: i wanted to write something quick and fluffy for jinwoo, my beloved hubby and favorite boy of all time 😭 so have this quick drabble ♡ 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

It’s been discussed before yes yes yes but the fact that in Trespasser Solas declines your Lavellan from joining him because he doesn’t her want to see what he will become.

a) All Lavellan knows is the moral, ethical, and principled Solas, the Solas who acts defensively and practically. Solas has and will act/order others to act in such a way that would break many Geneva conventions if it means succeeding, and he doesn’t want to test Lavellan’s love for him by making her bear witness to that, to choose him when she has no idea the true cost of what she is demanding, not only of herself, but of the world that will be ravaged by all of the terrorism and political maneuverings meant to destabilize and destroy the only world she has ever known. There is nothing more heart-breaking than someone you love forsaking you, to reach that limit one has for another. But equally so, Solas does not want to be in the position where he may be left with the choice between choosing Lavellan or his mission. What he will become may just be a man that would sacrifice her for his plans. He will not let her potentially put her heart on the line like that.

b) He doesn’t want to make her a monster that participates or allows such things, because part of the reason he fell in love with her was because of her goodness. It wouldn’t be difficult to groom her into evil if love was added to the mix. Love can compel you to do terrible things for the sake of a loved one, and Solas does not want to take advantage of her in that way, does not even want to have that temptation or that possibility involved. He is distancing himself to avoid accidentally corrupting the nature of what he believes to be a good, pure spirit. Evil inevitably poisons goodness. The Evil he wields is utilitarian and remorseful and necessary but evil all the same because it will do harm to thousands via the removal of the Veil. The man is planning what is potential omnicide. You cannot participate in that and not have something about you change irrevocably to allow it to happen. Solas, again, thinks of Lavellan as a good spirit. He wants to keep as many “good-spirited people” (kind, good people) intact as possible before he executes his plan. Why, I do not know, but I suppose because he believes that possessing a good spirit means your life will be happier. To be good is to exist well, and as Solas explains, to be good of heart means you will attract good spirits in the Fade and thus your experience in the Fade will be more pleasant, so by this logic he believes that, ideally (strictly ideally, he knows how much reality does not reflect ideals), goodness begets goodness begets peace.

Solas needs to be a monster because truly effective warfare is conducted when principles and ethics are thrown out the window. He does not want Lavellan to witness that and be confirmed in how much of a monster he was, is, and is willing to be. He wants her to remember him as a civilian, as Solas the humble apostate, not Fen’Harel the shadowed and conniving guerrilla war general. Selfishly, he wants her to only love a part of him, the best parts of him, because he is afraid of the whole of him being rejected, because who he is in totality is so storied and convoluted and repugnant that it would require the most extreme cognitive dissonance to be able to love him, and if there is anything Solas hates, it’s people who ignore reality in favor of their own self-serving fantasies. Lavellan would be right to disavow him, and by the same token it would be so terribly selfish of them both if she forgave him of his crimes and he accepted that forgiveness, because his sins cannot be absolved with a single individual’s love. That is the tragedy of their love, because love cannot overcome all that has happened. It cannot redeem or wipe away what he has done, not unless he kills a significant part of who he is, the Ancient Elf, the Rebel, the Failure, the Veil Maker, the Doomer of the World.

[trainsandkitties]

"Too late Icarus realized

his wings were melting. He had flown too close

to the Sun. With every desperate swoop of his

arms, more feathers fell and soon his arms

were almost bare. Down and down and down

went Icarus…"

(for best experience, play the video linked below in the background)

"With the entire world as our witness, the Countdown begins at Cape Canaveral, Florida" says a deep man's voice, the camera pans out, showing the launch team. The image is grainy and the voice echoes through the dark room. Only light coming from the telly.

The documentary goes on, recounting the events of the 1962 Friendship 7 mission- the first time a human orbited the earth. 5 years later, on a cold autumn evening, one soul seems to care for the broadcast. Observing with envy, as John Glenn set foot upon the spacecraft that would take him around the orbit. Glenn. That man refused to be confined to the Earth's face. How lucky he was. How lucky indeed. For so many are not only confined to the planet, they're confined to their beds, sometimes, their own bodies too.

The countdown begins. The clock strikes 9.47 and Friendship 7 ascends into the sky.

-Christ, are you watching that thing again?- Thomas entered the room

He was a stumpy lad, cheeky little pest. He hid his guilt well, as he felt at fault for his colleaugue's nearly fatal accident. Had he not mentioned streamlining to Sir Topham Hatt, maybe nothing would have happened. The race would have ended in disappointment, maybe even joy! Not such a tragedy. A tragedy that shook Britain to it's core.

He remembered those weeks that felt like years, when he avoided the gaze of The Flying Scotsman. A man he truly admired, but now- you could say feared. How could he look into the eyes of someone this distraught? The man who just 5 years ago buried his little sisters, now with another possible loss looming over him, all because of Thomas. All because of his pride and need to win.

-Must you all complain?- Gordon croaked -First Scott, then Victor and now you. What's wrong with watching it again? It's one of the very few things that make me happy.-

-Hey man I didn't mean it like that.- Thomas scratched the back of his neck- I just would have gotten bored already. So uh.. How- How are you feeling?-

His question was met with a look that could only be described as a visual representation of "if I could, I'd shove a crutch up your sorry arse."

-Nothing's changed.- Gresley murmured -Whole month's been the same. I think I'd rather sleep through it though.-

-Shucks, I think you've had enough sleep.- Thomas chuckled -Though I saw a guy down the corridor who's been sleeping for a few years now. Am I glad it's not you.- he paused -You're not hurting as much as you were though, right? Did Victor say when you can go back to work? Err.. I don't mind Rebecca!-

-I think I'm better.- the man looked down -Victor doesn't know yet. I'd say he thinks I won't work again.. You... you can go tell Rebecca she has a permanent job, I suppose.-

-Oh. Oh no, man, I'm not telling her that. You'll go home soon, get all better and you'll be back with your express.- Billinton seemed panicked -You're not going to just- give up, because your fucking leg hurts!-

-My crew is dead. And I don't want any dead passengers,, I don't want to die! I wish I could go back, but I can't! I won't recover. Nobody has ever recovered from a goddamn boiler explosion! What if it happens again? What if I can't do it because of the pain? Life isn't some fairytale where you bounce back from everything it throws at you! Sometimes.. You don't bounce back and.. you just need to accept it.- Gordon turned away from his friend and wrapped himself in the sheets -Goodbye, Thomas. I'll see you when I go home..-

-But..-

-Goodbye. It's time you leave.-

"Across Africa, races Friendship 7, at 17 545 miles per hour, 300 miles a minute, 4 miles for every heartbeat of John Glynn. Frienship 7 streaks through the nigth of tomorrow, and to the dawn of yesterday..'

[thecorvidcurio-if]

For as long as you can remember, no one you've loved has ever lasted very long.

The moment you come to love someone, no matter the type of love, tragedy befalls you both. In a desperate attempt to escape this cycle you've been moving from place to place, uprooting any time you start getting too close. This new city shouldn't be any different. It wouldn't be any different, if not for your new neighbours.

The more time you spend around these bizarre people, the more obvious it becomes that there's a layer of reality you've previously been unaware of. As you discover more of what was previously hidden from you, though, it begs the question:

Is there something more to your tragic circumstances than an unfortunate run of bad luck? Could it be the result of some power you don't understand? If so, does that mean there's a way out of it?

Does that mean there's someone to blame for your suffering?

Or click here if the image link doesn't work.

PLEASE NOTE: This game is in very early development. Only the first two chapters are posted, the writing will be continuously revised as I write, and there may be bugs or glitches. If you run into any issues, please let me know.

Cursed Ambrosia is an interactive fiction novel that deals with topics of death, loss, and love. It's a supernatural fantasy with a focus on interpersonal connections. There are six relationship routes, two women, two men, and two non-binary options. All romance options will have a platonic route as well. More info on them under the cut.

Note: Though these characters are romanceable, you do not need to romance them to play out their routes. On the platonic route, you still get the same plot content, just minus the romantic bits.

Vicente - An exceedingly polite and seemingly put together man who values kindness and compassion, but struggles to accept those things himself. He's keen to look after others and encourage them to accept help, yet insists on handling his own troubles alone.

Abby - An overwhelmingly enthusiastic and eccentric "person" who values curiosity and freedom, but struggles with moderation. He has more energy than he or anyone else knows what to do with. He's got a talent for mischief and is incapable of going very long without causing trouble, intentionally or not.

Kaida - A bitterly jaded and taciturn fellow who values knowledge and secrecy, but struggles to trust others. He's always many steps ahead of everyone else, and always knows more than he lets on. He's someone very useful to know... Or, he would be, if anyone could get a straight answer from him about anything.

Marina - An unapologetically loud and rambunctious woman who values rebellion and individuality, but struggles to let her guard down. She's brilliant, but easily bored. If you tell her she can't or shouldn't do something, it's just about guaranteed she'll be doing that thing in the near future.

Thea - A theatrically elegant and captivating woman who values loyalty and honesty above all else. On the job she's glamorous and confident, captivating any who hear her hypnotic voice. Off the job, though, she's something much different, and hopes to find someone who can appreciate both sides of her.

Shiloh - A cripplingly shy and skittish entity of uncertain origin who values privacy and comfort, but struggles to leave the safety of what it knows. Shiloh enjoys observing others interacting, and lives vicariously through witnessing the connections other people form with each other. It is quite sure that it will never manage to make such connections itself.

[lamemaster]

A Penance Unwanted

Request: Hi!🙂 How are you? ❤️Can you please spin the wheel for Gwindor? Thanks 💝✨️

Pairing: Gwindor x Reader

Genre: Timeloop au

AN: @mairablue Thanks for requesting!! Gwindor is awesome gotta love him. Such a fun concept. (What in the Hell is Happening Event)

“God dammit! You should have held him.” You groan watching Beleg die for the 25th time. Gwindor winced next to you. And from a distance you both watched Turin lament in the same low groaning pitch for the same 25th time. 

“I couldn’t have done that!” Gwindor replied indignantly. “Beleg wouldn’t listen. Look at these arms, do you think I can stop Cuthalion? You should have killed the orcs and then hit Turin on the head or something.” 

There had been a time when Beleg’s death daunted both Gwindor and you into silence. But now, it was a recurring event. Painful but numbed by the inevitable recurrence. 

You were back at it again. Stuck in the storyline of Turin and Beleg’s tragedy. Whatever deity found this funny had a messed-up sense of humor. 

"Next time, take Beleg through a longer route," you muttered, forming yet another plan, your voice heavy with a weariness born of repetition. "I'll try to find a way to poison the orcs, and hopefully, knock Turin out before he…" You trailed off, the futility of the task gnawing at you. But giving up wasn't an option. There had to be a way to break the loop, a way to alter the story.

"I swear to god if this is damned Melkor," you muttered, waiting for the inevitable reset. For both you and Gwindor to return to the past, to relive Beleg's death, and Turin's despair.

Knocking out Beleg, setting traps, and almost battling the thought of driving your sword through the emo king of Arda. This stupid loop tested you in every way. And most of all Gwindor who, unlike you, couldn't escape the grasp of Melkor's evil. The weight of his struggle, the subtle changes in his personality with each loop, filled you with a cold dread.

“Melkor can only so long imprison the children of Illuvatar,” Gwindor replied gently. His voice- so peaceful despite the pain he witnessed every reset. Taking your hand in his he continued, “We will find a way. One way or another you will return to your world and I will come to bear my fate.” There was this amazing elf. Comforting you when the hell broke loose around him. 

There was something truly extraordinary about this elf. Here he was, trapped in an endless cycle of loss, yet he offered you comfort when the world around him crumbled.  You couldn't help but wonder if it was the same unwavering faith in the good that led to his capture in the first place. 

It wasn't the scars or marks of torture that marred his once-handsome face that hurt you most, but the sheer unfairness of it all. He, who deserved a life filled with music and laughter, was trapped in this nightmarish cycle, forced to relive his torment while offering you solace.

"It isn't me you should be comforting," you chuckled, the sound hollow even to your own ears. "This is my penance. A fate that has led me to this nightmare, a well-deserved one." You didn't remember much of your world, only flashes – the resentful faces of strangers contorted in anger, the screaming voices that echoed relentlessly in your head, driving you to the teetering edge of insanity. You remembered everything but Gwindor from the rotten book you found in your dingy cell, the only companion in your solitary confinement.

The same one who now sat beside you, his hand warm against yours, a beacon of comfort in this unending darkness. "I deserve this. You don't," you whispered, the words heavy with a self-loathing you couldn't quite explain. He, who you sometimes questioned was real or a figment conjured by your fractured mind.

No. You wouldn't accept this twisted fate. You would break the loop, not just for your own sake, but for Gwindor's. Even if it meant defying the very fabric of this story, you would find a way to free him from Melkor's clutches.

Fuck Melkor, Ocrs, Turin, Valar, Illuvatar, and his wretched song. You were going to tear it all apart.

[edgarbright]

Ikemen Vampire Main Route // Charles chapter 23 thoughts

tl;dr Charles and his story are driving me insane and I love it so much

CHARLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holy shi-- That scene in the church was SO GOOD, FULL COURSE MEAL, PERFECT BAD-END TYPE OF CONTENT, I GOT TEARS IN MY EYES.

I was ready to murder Vlad if it turned out to JUST be a dream lol (MC's reaction and response at the end were so on point so thank you, girl.) I hadn't completely forgotten that moment two chapters ago between MC and Vlad before she suddenly woke up in the mansion (I am an Ikerev Loki gal, after all, so this isn't my first fake reality rodeo) but the church scene was so good it kind of pushed that moment to the back of my mind.

Because at the same time, I remembered the preview trailer where they showed Charles's CG of him bleeding out in the church while the voice over had him apologizing for his crimes and for being born. I thought this was going to be the moment.

So the MC and I were both in denial that he was dead while she feels his body going cold in her arms :')

And all the while MC is talking about the things Charles wasn't able to experience, like seeing the sunrise over the ocean, and that she needed to keep her promise with him. She asks Le Comte to bring Charles back.

Cue me nodding my head and getting intrigued at the idea of Charles being freed from the Cult of Vlad (affectionate) and getting to live the idle, wealthy lifestyle of one of le Comte's collection.

Except le Comte says he can't, he can't, because he can't sense any desire to live coming from Charles. (And the way le Comte said it breaks my heart because you could tell he regretted being unable to help.)

At last, after trying so hard, Charles had truly and utterly given up on everything. And he did it in the most horribly perfect way: as the God of Death, as a man who had experience executing thousands of people with both axe and guillotine, he killed himself with one perfect strike.

(And while I greatly appreciate the fact Cybird acknowledged his expertise to let him die with such quick precision, insert a hundred more pictures of the crying hamster here because my heart is broken!!!)

Fun fact: between Ikevamp and Ikevil, this is the third route in a row that I've read that has dealt with a suicidal Love Interest (which, hello, Cybird, that is a wild stat??? why do you have so many LI like this??) At this point in the story, however, I feel like Charles has the route that has best handled the topic in a narrative-rich and nuanced way.

Charles is so incredibly tragic and real that he's looking for hope to the point of endangering himself. He's sweet and funny and wildly friendly. He's also drowning in his tragedy and so he clings to people who might save him, such as Vlad, someone he even calls a God, someone who promises him a better world, a world where he doesn't have to experience the things that hurt him, a world where he can be happy and loved and accepted. I was thoroughly entranced in the scene where MC gets kidnapped (at last lol) and she sees how easily Charles defaults his will away to Vlad. Even though Charles asks questions several times which show his hesitancy and doubts, it becomes clear he isn't seeking truth. What he really wants are reassurances that this is right, that this is OK, that he's not making a mistake.

(He is an executioner through and through: someone else makes the choice for him. It's not his place to judge or decide.)

But in this way, Charles is just so wildly victim-coded to me in that I can clearly see him accepting abuse if it were called by any other name. When he speaks of his house calls, when he offers to let MC do anything--anything!--she wants to him, when we witness the group of men he lets beat him up (because he could have kept his truth without letting them abuse him), I dread to think what violence has been done to him in the dark streets of Paris that he has accepted in the past under the guise of the word love.

So the fact chapter 22 and 23 showed Charles realizing the solution to all his moral and ethical and emotional turmoil is to stop struggling and die, and that the story actually lets him succeed--albeit in a "highly possible future" scenario that Vlad reinforces will surely come to pass again at some point--hurt me in the best kind of way and I'm looking forward to how this route ends.

But Charles's highly probable suicide also brings up the question of why did Vlad pick Charles, of all people, to bring back as a vampire? Was Charles simply an ideal follower? Because the the key promise Vlad makes with Charles seems to make Charles somewhat useless for his plans: Charles won't have to kill anyone. What use is a perfect executioner who refuses to raise the sword?

The dynamic of Vlad, Faust, and Charles is wonderful though and I hope Vlad gives us a straight answer for the reason of his original experiment of MC teaching Charles love.

(Maybe helping Charles was Vlad's true experiment all along.)

[lire-casander]

don't want to set the world on fire

[rating] teen and up audiences [pairing] carlos reyes/tk strand [prompt] tarlos historical au [warnings] angst with a happy ending, canonical character deaths, pearl harbor au, world war ii, grief, mourning, fluff, kissing, alternating pov

[summary] 1941. tk strand and carlos reyes arrive in hawaii ready to recover from their own, personal tragedies. what they are not expecting is to find love among war.

happy holidays, @tailoredshirt! i really hope you enjoy reading this story just as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it! 

it wouldn’t have made sense without the incredibly fast beta-reading help of @morganaspendragonss and the hand-holding offered by @moviegeek03 when i thought i couldn’t do this. 

title from the song by the ink spots, which was released in 1941.

don't want to set the world on fire 15k+ | read on ao3

March 27th, 1941

“What do you mean, you're going to Europe?” TK tries to control his voice as he chooses to ask the first of the myriad of questions that are exploding in his head.

“They need the help,” Alex explains calmly. He doesn't look TK in the eye when he continues, “That's why I enlisted.”

“You volunteered?” TK screeches, earning themselves a few glares from the other people having dinner at this fancy restaurant where he had thought about proposing to his boyfriend.

Maybe proposing isn't exactly the right word, since they can't actually get married, but TK had planned to promise forever to this man who's now telling him that he's volunteered to step into a war that doesn't even have anything to do with them.

This definitely isn't how TK had envisioned his evening going.

“Yeah,” Alex confirms in a low voice. “It's not unheard of, you know. We need to help.”

“We?” TK huffs. “It's not our war, Alex. Your selflessness is amazing, but I highly doubt that you dying for them is going to change the course of the war.”

“You can't know that,” Alex retorts. He sighs as he stretches his hand across the table to rest it on top of TK’s, but TK jerks back. “TK, please,” he tries again. “I know it's difficult to understand and almost impossible to accept, but all I'm asking of you is to respect my decision.”

“How can you ask me to respect that you want to—die for people who will never even know your name?” He tries to keep his voice steady and still low, so as to not attract any more attention upon them, but it breaks around the middle, tears threatening to fall. “Alex—”

“I'm a pilot,” his boyfriend interrupts. “That's what I am. That's the only thing I am. I know I can help. I'm going to, whether you want me to or not, but I'd hoped that you'd at least understand, what with your father being a high-up and—”

“War was what broke my parents.” It's now TK’s turn to cut the conversation off, veering it towards the pain he's feeling. “How could you think that I'd be fine knowing that you'd volunteered to die halfway across the world? When did this happen? How did I miss it?”

Alex doesn't say anything, as if sensing that TK needs to say everything that's crushing his heart.

“When?” TK asks, voice not louder than a whisper. He remembers, a second too late, the dispatch orders his father's signed this very same morning; TK was at Colonel Strand's office when a secretary came in with a stack of papers allowing American soldiers to fly out the very next morning. “Please don't say—”

“Tomorrow,” Alex says, looking down at his plate.

TK holds his breath for a few seconds, counts to five, and exhales slowly. He repeats to himself that he won't panic, that everything will be fine in the end. After seven rounds of controlled breathing, he feels confident enough to speak, even though his soul is shattered.

“Here I thought that tonight would be the first night of our whole future together…and it's actually the last night for us.”

Alex looks stricken as TK’s words seem to register. TK witnesses his boyfriend understand what his plan had been all along, as a lonely tear rolls down his cheek, as Alex wipes it away discreetly because he's a soldier and he needs to be tough, not sensitive. He looks down at his hands, balled in fists over the tablecloth, and exhales.

“Well,” Alex finally says. He reaches out to touch TK, and this time he lets Alex's fingers smooth the skin over his hands. “If this is our last night together, would you save a dance for me?”

That's what both disarms TK and breaks his heart, at the same time.

He has never been able to say no to Alex, not even once in the whole fourteen months, three weeks, five days and seventeen hours since they started dating. And yes, he's been counting—sue him.

“Of course,” TK breathes out slowly. “Wanna go to the pier after dinner?”

continue reading on ao3!

[nazukisser]

➺✧ ┅ CHAPTER 03 | Red Camellias, Once Again

SYNOPSIS | “Duke, will you marry me?” You never thought you’d be saying these words until now, when you’ve realized you’ve been reincarnated as the first side character to be killed in a series of tragedies in a novel series called “Trails of Misfortune & Misery”. As a lady forced into an arranged marriage with the greedy son of Duke Drakos who aims to use your power as a sorceress to gain the Emperor’s favor and is eventually is killed as a sacrifice for his schemes, it seems the only one who can truly assist you is the Duke of Suou, Tsukasa Suou.

CHAPTER WARNINGS | none for this chapter

PAIRING | Suou Tsukasa x fem!reader

LINKS | series masterlist | taglist form | prev chapter

“If you would allow, I would like to request a marriage with her.” 

A smile broke out on your lips, perhaps an emphasis to the nobles watching. It was likely they took it as a sign of happiness, rather than relief that you’d have a good chance of surviving. The Emperor was taken by surprise, speechless and simply staring at the three of you. It was quite a sight, this incident. Nobody could blame him; everyone else in the room was just as shocked as him.  Even by then, the crowd had hushed and there were simply stares. No one had any more to say. 

As for Erebus, his blindingly bright smile had turned into rage, and it was easy to predict that he would yell out in anger louder than anyone else present. His ears turned red, and it took all of his might to not punch Tsukasa out of anger. Yet, he didn’t have any words to say, his expression said it all- eyebrows scrunched, his mouth ready to burst with words. You could almost see the marks from his fingernails onto his palm that he’d be complaining about tomorrow, his fist even shaking from the strength of his clench. 

He turned to Tsukasa, left hand placed upon his hip, “Who do you think you are, taking another man’s wife? I wasn’t aware the Duke of Suou was raised so poorly, as to have no consideration for others.” 

You heard a sigh from Tsukasa, quite loud at that. Perhaps he wanted to be heard, or maybe he was angry- maybe both. He was always the type to defend his family’s honor, including his mother and father. Every noble was aware of Tsukasa’s affection for his parents, and any insult was highly likely to result in some sort of ruin for them. Either Erebus was stupid, or he thought he was absolutely right, so much so that Tsukasa would have to admit defeat towards him, or perhaps both; Erebus was arrogant like that. 

You took his hand to quell his anger; it wouldn’t do any good if he were to lash out his anger as well. It would make Erebus look just a little bit better, more “acceptable” if Tsukasa acted the same way. It was all about perception- and acting was part of it. 

Tsukasa flinched just a little bit, before regaining his composure and holding onto your hand tightly. 

You told Erebus you really didn’t love him, that it was always just a contract of benefit until it wasn’t. There really was no contract though, the previous owner of this body had decided to follow him so closely. You’d “found love” tonight, and you’d like to pursue that instead. The marriage announcement was not agreed upon, and you weren’t going to agree with it- ever. 

The crowd simply stared, including the emperor, who had no words to say. 

“Really? Do you have amnesia? Do you seriously not remember your profession of love to me that night, three years ago?” He yelled out. The banquet hall was quieter than ever the second his shout ended. The previous owner of this body did love Erebus, for whatever reason, but if he has no evidence, he’s wrong- you were lucky there were only the two present at the moment. There were no witnesses at the time of confession; thus it didn’t exist. 

You denied his statement, and the doctors could check if you had amnesia. There were things you couldn’t really remember, but it was great that Callie was willing to help you “remember” everything. At least she remembered for you. 

Much of that day was an act, from your “reason of attendance” to your “unexpected” meeting with Tsukasa, but if there was one thing you could be truthful about, it would be Erebus’s unsightly behaviors. You showed the audience an expression of pain, one that came with painful memories. It was easy to recount the times that Erebus had acted in an unsightly and certainly unacceptable manner to the crowd. Whispers began to resurface as you recalled them, and as Erebus heard them, everyone could see his anger rising more than ever seen. 

The Emperor cleared his throat, “Ahem-” 

“Duke Suou! I challenge you to a duel. By the end of this week,” his voice hollered throughout the hall. He interrupted the Emperor, already a crime in itself. 

The crowd was silent as could possibly be. You knew he was audacious- but there was nobody who expected a duel like that. It was often a formal letter sent to one’s home, but a verbal invitation? Now that was new, revolutionary, even- not in a particularly positive way, albeit.

Perhaps it was a good time to take one more jab at him- everyone’s eyes were on him, and it would be preferable to go home at this point, as a headache surfaced to your forehead and your eyes wanting to go home, your stomach threatening greater pain than already present. However, the enemy was almost at his limit for today’s battle, before he outraged and flung his words so clumsily that no one would ever take him seriously. 

As Tsukasa’s hand gripped tighter on yours, it was easy to tell that his emotions rose once again, but as you gripped his hand in return, he took a deep breath.

“Then, if you’re so adamant to oppose, I shall accept your challenge,” he replied. That would be it. You wondered when it would happen; and to be honest, it wouldn’t be impossible that Erebus never sends it, like the coward he is. 

“Hmph, alright. I look forward to our glorious battle,” they shook hands, gripping each other as if they were trying to burst the other’s hand- an aggressive shake, if anyone would. 

If there was a time for a last jab at Erebus Drakos, now would be the time. The Emperor seemed like he was at a loss of words (and ideas) on how to continue the party, so perhaps this suggestion would help both him and you. A win for you and the Emperor, and yet another loss for Erebus. Now, that was wonderful. 

You asked the Emperor if you could make a suggestion, as you “figured the guests would prefer to enjoy the time to themselves, rather than listen to such a man (Erebus) yell into the distance”, so you would humbly offer to show a short show of sorcery in the garden. He accepted with great relief, and everyone, with seemingly infinite whispers to those near them, made their way into the garden. 

As the attention turned from the scene to the wonders of your abilities, you were given a moment to breathe. You were given a couple of stares, though not for long, as everyone was brought outside by the guards to await a great performance by a talented sorceress. 

It wasn’t long before you, Tsukasa, and the Emperor were the only ones in the hall (besides the guards), as everyone else was distracted by the beauty of the garden. 

“Your Majesty, I apologize for participating in this scene, however-” Tsukasa was still going along with it, even when there was pretty much no one but the Emperor. Perhaps he was extra cautious, or maybe he was quite into the act the two of you had put on for everyone. 

The Emperor put his hand on the young Duke’s shoulder, “It’s alright. I do think it’s strange for you to put yourself in a situation like this, but I understand. I shall approve of this request for marriage.” 

Tsukasa released a deep breath he had been holding in and as he raised his head, he gave him a quick statement of gratitude. He held out his hand, offering a hand to hold as the two of you entered the garden, the same garden you’d met not long ago at all; but to your surprise, he quickly retracted the hand, mumbling something along the lines of “I know that you can walk there yourself though…” 

You had thanked the Emperor as well, as he made his way out to the garden to introduce you once again to the crowd, not as the center of an “incident”, but rather the stars of a magical show that was about to begin. You laughed at the Duke’s awkwardness. He was always so serious, so professional, that you were caught by surprise- it was a change, but it was quite welcome. After all, how could anyone be both cute and charming at once, in such a small interaction? 

You took his hand as the two of you made your way outside to the garden, among the very very same red camellias you’d met in, his hands intertwined with yours this time. The Emperor announced your names together, as the crowd circled around you and you prepared to summon. It was a familiar process, one which you yourself had never really done before, but the previous owner of your body had done countless times. Magic circles appeared above your hand as you recited enchantments in an ancient language; you didn’t know how you were doing, nor did anyone, really, but it worked. Spirits and familiars pranced and created beautiful magical phenomenons; they were commonly used for battle, as that was how Erebus had “earned” his title, but it wasn’t beyond their abilities to create shows for everyone too. Perhaps you’d give them a snack later, for doing this for you without prior notice.

Music played as the crowd marveled at the spirits and familiars, and couples danced among the sparkles and newly-formed flowers. Perhaps it would be a bit odd to not have a dance as well, the music selected perfectly for a show you had just put on. As the crowd’s attention turned from you to the remnants of the show itself and themselves, chatter softly starting from within as conversations started and dances asked for. 

With a little hesitation, Tsukasa outreached his hand, “Would you like to dance with me under this beautiful scene?” Perhaps he was shy, perhaps it was his first time dancing while nobody else was looking. It wasn’t a dance that was required, a dance that ultimately didn’t matter. You took it with a smile, one which stunned him for just a second before his lips curled into a smile as well, your hand in his. 

His arm around your waist, yours around his shoulder. The dance wasn’t as hard as you expected; perhaps that was the result of “noble education”. It wasn’t too uncomfortable; in fact, it was rather private, for being in such a crowded space. It provided a sense of privacy, as if the other people weren’t quite in the same “realm”- or perhaps, the reason may have been that your eyes were exclusively on Tsukasa, him looking at you back. He seemed to dance effortlessly, although it wasn’t too difficult for you either. 

Despite your sense of privacy during the dance, you were met with applause and praise from the crowd once you and he had released from each other’s arms. You curtsied to the crowd for the praise, but soon after, the attention was drawn to the next song the musicians decided to play, and thus another round of dances began among themselves. First the pressure was gone, the fact that Erebus had been so terribly humiliated earlier, and next the attention was gone- you weren’t the main focus of everyone in the party anymore- which was a good thing. There was nothing left in the show, no more acting was needed. It would take up too much energy if you had to do it again. 

That being done, everything hurt. Perhaps you’d done too much tonight, wearing a dress that seemed like it weighed more than metal armor (that was an exaggeration, but not really) while finding one of the most powerful people in the entire Empire, putting on an “act” in front of dozens and dozens of, maybe over a hundred, people, and doing sorcery and dancing on top of that. That really wasn’t the plan, but it turned out so much better than expected. 

However, there was one, ginormous, gigantic, issue: you felt like you were going to collapse- any minute now. On the floor, unable to get up. It wasn’t an emergency, and this body didn’t have any underlying health issues that caused anything like that. If anything were to cause it, it would be exhaustion. Everything hurt; a headache had formed, your shoulders hurt, your back ached, your legs sored. 

“Uhm, would you like me to-” Tsukasa had a worried expression.

Bring you home? Yes. Bring you home for sure. He understood that, and a carriage was prepared in no time. He offered his hand for your support, as you got up into the carriage. That was good; you needed all the help you could get. Sometimes it would’ve been nice if it wasn’t so high. Or maybe they could put some sort of steps or something, instead of making it so high up. Tsukasa followed soon after, closing the door as he stepped inside. 

There was supposed to be a carriage coming from your home to the party to pick you up, but it was supposed to come at a later time. By the time it would’ve set out, you’d likely be home by then. That would save the driver some work, plus you wanted to get home early. A win for everyone. 

Earlier, you would’ve felt like this was an opportunity- you were alone with him, and you could discuss anything you wanted. But now that a relationship between you has been established, and perhaps contract details would be better discussed in an office, it was, for a lack of any other fitting words, awkward. The two of you were strangers, yet now engaged. That was certainly a unique situation. 

There were a few kinds of scenery that went by before a word was said. It was loud, in terms of sound: the click clacks of the horseshoes and the revolutions of the wheel on the ground certainly made quite a lot of noise. However, in terms of voice, it was silent. Nothing had been said since you had entered the carriage, and each of you had taken a side to look out the window. 

You hadn’t had the chance to thank him the entire day. He’d effectively saved your life today, and that certainly was more than enough to earn a “thank you” from the recipient. It was hard to break the silence, which had already been established after many minutes in the carriage. You took a deep breath, hopefully not too loud, but the words wouldn’t come out. Actually, you didn’t think about what you were going to say. Yes, a simple thank you for saving your life today. Oh, and perhaps plans to meet up for the contract… yes, that was important. 

It took a couple of tries to get any sort of words out, but luckily, you were able to say what you needed to say. Tsukasa immediately turned his attention away from the window to look at you, straight in the eyes. Full attention on you. How he was like that, it was a wonder. Was he enchanted by you? No way; he’d met you just tonight. This side of him was cute though, a little unsure and perhaps a little bit childish. Just not the traditional noble behavior, some honesty. That was nice, for a change. 

His expression went from “hm?” to a soft smile, perhaps of relief. What he could be relieved about was a mystery, but you hoped it wasn’t important. You hoped you hadn’t made a mistake. 

“Then-” there was a pause. “I’m glad I was of help,” he said. Yes, he couldn’t ignore someone who needed his help- and those who didn’t need his help, he offered too. It was both a good and a bad thing, depending on what was happening. 

First thing, done. Second thing, contract. You mentioned that to him; the two of you needed a time to discuss the contents of the contract and have it signed. It was a bit of a shame it couldn’t be done in the carriage; it was the most private it was going to feel. 

He agreed, seemingly both disappointed and excited. Perhaps, was he disappointed you had to part here, as you were nearing your estate, but excited to meet again soon? Did he possibly find this situation amusing? It wasn’t clear, but it was good that he agreed to the time for a contract. He surprisingly had time, despite being a Duke- and your schedule wasn’t too busy, gratefully. 

A thought came to Tsukasa’s mind as the carriage came to a stop by your estate. 

“Oh, are there any sweets you’d like to have? I can have them prepared for you,” his eyes sparkled as he asked. Why was he so eager to provide for you, when you’d only just met? When you’d  barely given him anything but he’d given you everything? It was a little too much, so a quick “anything” would be okay… or so you thought, until he insisted and insisted. Callie was staring at you, locked on in the eyes. No words came from her mouth, yet her eyes said it all. “My lady, please get off. We would all like to rest soon.” It was a little intense. 

Anything, anything. Answer his question quickly, and go. That was what the plan was. Well, it was a plan made in a split second. It wasn’t a question of what sweets you wanted him to prepare for you; it was a decision to keep Callie waiting or not. What sweets he prepared for you wasn’t important; you’d have the ones you liked, you wouldn’t have the ones that didn’t seem appealing. It didn’t matter whether you ate or not. All you needed was to have the contract written and signed. Perhaps you’d even write up a draft of your own so it wouldn’t take so long. After all, you time- after this, of course.

But it wouldn’t take too long to decide, right? A few seconds of Callie waiting wouldn’t be that bad, although her stare was quite jarring compared to the time in the carriage. Just answer his question, thoughtfully, and you would enjoy good sweets and get the contract done. Maybe it was good to be a little greedy. After all, what noble didn’t have their own share of greed? 

Then, you answered him thoughtfully, a slight smile on your lips as you left the carriage, earning a sigh and “Let’s go, my lady. You look exhausted.” from Callie. You waved goodbye to Tsukasa and he waved back to you, a smile on each of your faces. 

“What, did you actually fall in love with him? Do you have a thing for those from ducal families?” That was Callie. No, you didn’t, you told her. All that earned was an “Okay.” 

WORD COUNT | 3174 words

NOTES FROM QIAN | hi this series is extremely self indulgent. if you would like to join the taglist, please fill out this form, thank you! [ tags in the reblogs ]

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[prue84]

Magical restraints

Fandom: BBC’s Merlin (post-canon) AU / Harry Potter AU: Dark!Merlin

The magical restrains of Merlin the Great on Arthur Pendragon, Once and Future King.

Made for the @merlin-bdsm-week.

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“So, you’ll go dark wizard on me, after all...” Arthur mumbles, resigned to his fate. “This isn’t going ‘dark wizard on you’, Arthur.” Arthur didn’t expect an answer. He blinks. “This is ‘alternative and constructive use of magic’, if you will.” Merlin is staring. Arthur doesn’t understand if he’s waiting for a retort, or if he’s waiting to see the moment he gives up any pretence of fighting what even the famed Once and Future King cannot fight. Arthur doesn’t have the slightest intention of yielding, though: he’s left with only his honour and he won’t let Merlin crush it. “What you’re doing,” Arthur yanks at the restraints. Useless: they don’t budge an inch. “What you’re planning to do is not ‘constructive’.” Merlin is still staring, unblinking. There’s amusement in his eyes. Like a cat that plays with the mouse before the killing blow. Arthur can’t accept it that he’s playing the role of the mouse. And even if he’s tied up and unable to even twitch his head without Merlin’s permission, Arthur builds up his courage. At least Merlin appears to be listening, so he must talk. “What you’re about to do is destructive” Despite it all, he can’t stop hoping. Perhaps Merlin is still in time to stop. Perhaps... “Oh, what I’ll use on you will be,” Merlin’s voice is further lower and threatening now. And Arthur can’t stop the shiver that runs down his back. “What I’ll do to you will be constructive and instructive, Arthur. To teach you your place.”

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More about the AU under the cut. (More fanworks from the fandom at the proper tag)

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About the AU

A prophecy predicts the rise to power of a powerful dark wizard. The wizarding world thinks the prophecy has been nullified when Voldemort is defeated by a small child. It's the 90s. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is lurking in the shadows, planning his return. But it's not Voldemort’s resurface who poses a threat to the balance of magic. It’s not Voldemort’s return that jeopardizes the very tread of magic. It’s not Voldemort the reason why Magic Itself decides that a proactive intervention is needed. Under the disguise of a rather shadowy teacher of History of Magic, Merlin is researching the ways to bring back the dead. Tired of waiting for a return that will never happen, he's set on forcing it. Whatever the cost. But only dark magic can give life to those who have died. Only through dark magic, Merlin can steal his former king from his immortal sleep in Avalon. Merlin isn’t just a powerful warlock who lived hundreds of lives, silent witness to all the changes of the world, only witness to the tragedies that occurred to the magic people, the only one to remember the times before the magic people retired in their own world, hidden from the rest. Merlin is Magic incarnated and they are more entwined that even Merlin himself have ever understood. If Merlin dabbed too much in dark arts and were to be forever changed by it, Magic itself would forever change with him. Corruption within Merlin would forever corrupt Magic as well. There is one chance to save Merlin from himself, only one person with enough power to stop Merlin. And so Magic has Arthur return to stop Merlin from fully embracing the growing darkness within himself. Albion's need is greatest, the preconditions for Arthur’s return are created. Arthur can return. Just... not as himself. With the state of the wizarding world, in which Arthur Pendragon is believed to be a legendary king that should rise to power and rule them all, anonymity is necessary. Arthur must focus on Merlin, without distractions. Only when Merlin will see behind the disguise, when the veil of dark magic that blinds Merlin will be lifted, Arthur will be allowed to shred his dragon form and claim his rightful place in the wizarding world. Cue in Draco Malfoy, bully extraordinaire and Prince of Slytherin since 1991. It’s the 1994 summer, and Draco is spending his summer at home before returning to school for his fourth Hogwarts year. And so Arthur wakes on the shores of Avalon, just right when poor Draco Malfoy is taking a stroll - unaware of what he’s about to bump into and how much his future will be changed by the meeting of a small red and gold dragon who claims to be the legendary Arthur Pendragon, king of them all. Under the disguise of the Malfoy dragon pet, and with the unwilling help of what Arthur has elected as his new (very blond and very worse-than-Merlin-lousy) servant, Arthur sets out with his plan to draw Merlin’s attention all on him, so to divert him from the dark magic. For almost all the school year he taunts Merlin and hints at his return, in a game of mouse and cat that almost drives Merlin insane (and make Draco wish he could relocated in the non-magical world just to be on the safe side and not be at the castle when Merlin will eventually go crazy and strike them all with lightings). Arthur succeeds, he stops the dark future from happening. but it doesn't mean his duty is done. Merlin's brush with dark magic left him permanently changed. No more the Merlin Arthur said goodbye to, the man he wished would never change. A new Merlin has taken his place, a Merlin who isn’t fine with serving - a Merlin who has grown into a master. The day Arthur reveals himself, crown and armour and all the rest, is the day Arthur meets this new Merlin. A bloodbath avoided, the school safe. Yet, Arthur is not spared from Merlin’s cold rage. Without the chance to even wield Excalibur, he’s thrown against a wall and forced to submit to Merlin’s control. Golden snakes of magic slither on him, turning into restraints that keep him pinned on the bed, like a sacrifice ready to be taken. What follows is a wild night, in which Merlin demand full submission and every ounce of control is ripped off of Arthur. He will wake to a tired body and a glowing red circle around his neck to label him property of Merlin the Great. Arthur's new duty is now to keep that darkness in check, to draw on himself Merlin’s most dark instincts so he might not be tempted by darkness again. Eventually the collar will morph into a thin circle made of protective magic, a sign that Arthur belongs to Merlin and Magic Itself, but that’s another story for another time...

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I swear I started this before seeing @mossmx banner arts. Theirs are better anyway. :D

No, there is no fanfiction for this. Just a monster-draft of more than 100 pages covering from an introduction of Merlin’s life from Camelot to the 90s, Arthur’s awakening in 1994 to 1997 and further on.

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Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) The idea was to make the restraints to look like Wonder Woman's lazo as rendered in the movies. Epic fail. So no, I don't like the results. Whatever.

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Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/96419.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/87878.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/Magical-restraints-954607581

[denimbex1986]

'On the surface, All of Us Strangers, directed by Andrew Haigh, is a dark and twisty love story. Underneath, there is the often-present storyline seen in queer cinema: that of trauma and tragedy.

All of Us Strangers follows lonely middle-aged gay man Adam (Andrew Scott), struggling to come to terms with his tragic past and sexuality. Adam is a screenwriter, attempting to use his craft to work through his trauma, but his solitary life is interrupted by his new neighbour Harry (Paul Mescal).

Through a dreamworld-like exploration, Adam experiences the companionship and love accepting his homosexuality would bring, all the while visiting his dead parents in an “I see dead people” Sixth Sense fashion.

Ultimately, the story ends with the realisation Harry, like Adam’s parents, was actually dead all along, and the film leaves us wondering if Adam himself is a ghost, too.

LGBTIQA+ audiences are accustomed to seeing themes of loss, grief, homophobia and tragedy play out on screen, and this film is no exception. While it explores these themes through a beautiful, haunting ghost story, gorgeous cinematography, affective music score and captivating performances, it still reinforces the narrative queer people cannot live happy lives.

Queer representation

Queer representation in mainstream media has historically been marred by negative stereotypes, tokenistic representation and death. In my recent interactive documentary, Queer Representation Matters, queer media scholars and queer screen storytellers share how queer characters are often relegated to roles characterised by tragedy or trauma, perpetuating harmful tropes like “bury your gays”.

Bury your gays is a storytelling trope that sees LGBTQI+ characters die, often to propel the story forward for a cis, heterosexual character. We can first find these stories in late 19th century literature such as Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890).

It gained traction in the early 20th century, in Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (1934) and Vin Packer’s Spring Fire (1956) (although she doesn’t die, just ends up institutionalised), and continues to appear in novels, plays, films and on television.

Films such as The Hours (2002), Philadelphia (2003), Brokeback Mountain (2005), A Single Man (2009) and Black Swan (2010) are all films about a queer character who suffers and dies.

You may remember some of these much-loved, yet killed-off TV characters: Villanelle from Killing Eve (2018–2022), Poussey Washington from Orange is the New Black (2013–2019) and Lexa from The 100 (2014–2020).

Online queer news site, Autostraddle, have compiled a list of the 230+ dead queer female TV characters, which continues to be updated with each death.

Essentially, for queer people, it starts to feel like you can’t have queer representation without someone dying tragically at the end.

A 2023 report from Screen Australia shows only 7.4% of main or recurring characters on Australian scripted TV from 2016–2021 were identifiably LGBTQI+, and although there have been improvements in representing more complex and inclusive queer stories on Australian television, we remain quite conservative in depicting queer sex and diverse genders.

Queer people will have different and complicated responses to queer death on screen. The result of the bury your gays trope is many queer people are left feeling that being queer means you are destined for tragedy. Witnessing another queer death on screen can make us revisit past wounds and experiences.

We need diverse stories

Tropes will always exist in storytelling, but by having more diverse queer filmmakers telling more diverse queer stories, audiences will have a more balanced narrative about queer life (and life expectancy).

So, do these themes of trauma, tragedy and queer death mean films like All of Us Strangers fall into the bury your gays trope? Not necessarily, no. Here, Harry’s death is not propelling a straight character’s story forward.

It is also necessary to have sad stories about queer characters. Stories that show the queer experience in different social and historical contexts are important to understanding the struggle for LGBTQI+ liberation.

While All of Us Strangers may reinforce the narrative queer people cannot live happy lives, there are moments of tenderness, vulnerability and hope in the film. The true value of the story lies in its creation by gay filmmaker Haigh.

When a gay man is able to tell the story his way, the story becomes more authentic.

Haigh’s ability to create truthful conversations between Adam and his parents, cross-generational romance, and the desire to heal persisting wounds, demonstrates the value of the authentic lived experience.

It is important to reflect the tragic queer lived experiences. But when these stories are saturating our big and small screens we are not seeing the alternative – the queer resilience, resistance, joy, hope, creativity, potential and triumph.

We need to see stories that challenge the narrative that being queer ultimately leads to pain, trauma and tragedy. We need to see we can also live long and happy lives, so we can believe we can have the happy ever after.'

[girl4music]

Comment by @LaineyBug2020: “You keep saying that's not Willow, but that she's actually thinking the things she's saying. You're right on both counts. This is Dark Willow. She is a part of Willow as a whole. We all have that Darkness inside of us, no matter how good we try to be. This was illustrated by how easy it was for Willow to let the magic take over. She repressed a lot of herself when we first met her. Joss is showing us why we shouldn't do that. Remember how easily she was led to the demon that got released into the computer?

Remember how she never dealt with her feelings with Xander and let herself get involved in an adulterous relationship? Until now, she kept herself so repressed that anytime she tapped into more power, you would see her eyes turn black.

Then, when tragedy strikes, she’s so used to repressing that she just represses the part of herself that feels anything but vengeance. Vengeance is a powerful place to exist, much more powerful than grief. Grief is powerless. She has let herself be powerless for too long.

When we deny parts of ourselves, all we do is create imbalances and extreme dichotomies. Two extremes can't share the same place, so that's when dissociation occurs. Dark Willow is completely dissociated from her humanity, so there is nothing to temper the base impulses or intrusive thoughts.

Which is why she says what she says to Dawn.

Eventually (without spoiling too much) we get to see White Willow, the other end of the spectrum. But we don't get to see it until Willow learns how to honor, balance and thus control every part of her.

Joss uses this theme with Oz's arc when he has to leave to connect with his wolf so he can control it.

He also uses it with Spike vs Angel. Angel is a represser and a brooder. He shuns the 'Angelus' part of him when he is cursed with a soul, to the point where Angelus is able to keep secrets from him and be a constant threat. Spike accepted his Demon nature and learned to be good with it instead of in spite of it when his ability to harm people was taken away. He fought for a soul with his Demon nature fully participating so there was never a danger of him losing his soul. There was a blip he faced with The First, but he faced it right away and became stronger for it.

Even Buffy has to do this. Faith is an example of what can happen if we repress. Buff struggles throughout the show's run with honoring every part of herself to stay balanced and powerful. Especially after she's brought back.

That's what we can take away from this theme. Feel and honour every part of yourself. We are complex, but when in balance, we are POWERFUL.”

👏👏👏👏👏

Wonderfully fucking said. Wow!

One of Willow’s most repressed traits is sadism. Vampire Willow expresses and exhibits it with abandon. But there’s a reason why she’s one of the most sadistic vampires that we ever get to see in the Buffyverse.

It’s not because of the demon who took over Willow’s body. It’s because of Willow. Willow’s repressed sadism is something I love talking about because it’s such a fascinating subject when it comes to her characterisation.

You witness tidbits of it every now and again but it’s used for light humour. To break the tension in the narrative. We never think much of it until it’s used for a different purpose such as here.

Iconic Willow one-liners like “Occasionally, I’m callous and strange.” And “If you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel.” and “He deserves a torturous and slow death by spider bites.”

Innocent funny one-liners or repressed sadism? Yes.

She was never as innocent or pure as she seemed. There was very much a storm brewing inside of this one and Season 6 said let it rain!

And it’s probably the best fucking payoff of all the built-up character representation and development in the entire show. I adore it.

[aurathian]

Yes, I'm asking about 'love me (and leave me to die)', what about it? 😆

How did you come up with the idea? What's your favorite part of the story (mine is Impa lying to Zelda).

thank you zelmo this fic is like a beast lying dormant within me waiting to be unleashed i need to talk about it so bad 24/7 (read it here)

TOTK SPOILERS AHEAD BEWARE <;/3

i don't remember entirely how i came up with the idea, but i was inspired by the carvings the player finds underneath the castle in totk, ESPECIALLY when you can go back and unveil the rest of the carvings covered by rock. i found the lore it revealed so intriguing, and it inspired my favorite part of the story, the scene where link and zelda secretly meet in the middle of the night underneath the castle. (this is the excerpt below the cut!), which in turn inspired the whole fic.

this is usually how most of my fics come about--i get inspired by something and have a scene in my head that i base the story around, which is what happened here. i played around with ways i could fit it into the various zelink week prompts and had to do some tweaking to make it work, but i am so so proud of this fic and everything that it is. like... my planning doc has SO MUCH worldbuilding in it that i just couldnt ultimately fit into the final fic i put so much thought into it.

i also got the idea from botw with zelda's struggle to awaken her powers. she knows what she has to do but she can't do it. the zelda in this story has a similar but not identical dilemma--she (thinks she) knows what she has to do and is willing to do it but when she finds out the truth, she doesn't know if she can. but in the end she accepts it and angst occurs lol.

i already mentioned my fav part of the story but to elaborate. ow they hurt me so much i love angst and tragedy and oh my god they are sooooo in love and sad. this is such a quiet and tender and lonely scene and i love it. here it is (very long excerpt):

“You are much more hopeful than me,” she teases with a grin. “I don’t dare fantasize.” And even though she has convinced herself there is no point in imagining a future, she pictures it in her mind. The tension in her muscles starts to dissipate and she worries she’ll melt. A sparkling blue lake brimming with fish, surrounded by dense forests, in the middle of nowhere, where nobody can reach them…

“You should try it sometime. It’s good for you,” Link suggests, and although his expression is teasing, his words are sincere. So, Zelda tries. 

“On warm days, we can swim in the lake,” she musters, entertaining the idea. “Then we can go home and enjoy some tea afterwards, before turning in for the night.” Imagining such a peaceful scene feels like a sin, but when his palm comes to rest on her face, cupping her cheek, all notions of divinity leave her mind. With a sigh, she relaxes into his hand.

“We can get married,” Link dares to say. “Just us, by that lake, with only the birds and the water as our witnesses.”

Her breath catches in her throat and she wants to say yes right then and there, but her holy senses return for just a moment and she blurts, “And the Goddess Hylia.”

“No.” The Hero, chosen by her, shakes his head. “By that lake, there are no goddesses or calamities. There is only us.”

Then surely this lake is fictional, Zelda thinks. For so long she has tied herself to the Goddess and her wishes that to even think of a world without her is blasphemous. But something about the idea is charming… alluring, even, something she desires deep within her. A land, green and lush with sparkling blue waters, untouched by divinity or holy, otherworldly ambitions, a land where the Hero and the Princess are no longer tied to destiny or fate or duty. A land where they are simply Link and Zelda, where they are in love and they hope.

“I would like that,” is all she whispers.

“We have children.” Link strokes her cheek with his thumb. “Two of them, and a pet. A cat, maybe. And we live on that lake and teach them what normal kids are taught and we play with them, raise cows and ponies.”

“They are carefree.”

“Yes, and we live there for the rest of our days.”

Tears are pricking her eyes and she angles her head so he can’t see through the fickle light. “And those kids grow up, have children, and they spend their days there until we become part of the Long Ago, too.”

“And they are not Princess or Hero. Simply our sons and daughters.”

A silence looms, floating in the dusty air between them, and Zelda cannot bring her teary eyes to meet his once again. Because she knows–she knows it's wishful thinking, and that such a thing will never come to pass. For this eternity and the next and the next and the next, there will always be a Hero and a Princess, doomed and destined to save the world. The Princess and the Hero, by blood and soul, bound by fate, were doomed to a life of calamities. In the Now, in the Long Ago, and in the Far Away Future, there would never be a lake void of calamities and goddesses.

“Not in this life, Link.”

“No.” He looks down. “Not in this life.”

“And not in the next, either, or the one after,” she proceeds. Her posture straightens in an effort to hide the shaking she feels in her hands and the quivering in her lips as tears threaten to fall. “Perhaps it is not meant to be.”

She curses herself as his thumb swipes away an escaped tear and he moves to pull her in close, his other hand finding her back and nudging her into him. He is warm and strong, arms firmly wrapped around her, head placed atop hers. He knows it cannot be, and still he fantasizes, bringing her into his head and allowing her to live peacefully if only for a few moments, even in the shadow of her fate.

Her regrets are amplified when she is in his arms, the guilt washing over like a strong wave. In his arms, she is reminded of the talks from her mother and Impa that if she were to be romantic with him, as so many Heroes and Princesses had been before, it would spell the world’s doom. And yet she can’t help it. From such a young age they have relied on each other, understood one another in a way no one else could. It’s only natural, Zelda knows, that sharing a fate so deeply intertwined through thousands and thousands of years would result in, perhaps, a small kiss that became much more over the years; a kiss that turned the Princess and the Hero from an obligatory pair to a couple utterly devoted to each other.

As duty-bound and destiny-aware as the Princess of Hyrule is, she cannot deny her heart.

Link murmurs something in her ear and it makes her heart flutter and sink into her chest all at the same time, so full of love but also brimming with despair.

“My Zelda,” he sighs.

Not in this life, she thinks.

[dinosaurchurch]

It's hard to believe that it's been six months since my father passed. Six months ago he would've turned sixty. I won't lie to people, it fucks me up to think at the age I am now that he was half way through his journey.

It's one of those things that I can't help but to think about sometimes, there's a lot of little small reminders of him that I get - things or moments that remind me of my childhood and the more simpler times. All though I know that the man I loved dearly was long gone by the time that he passed, I can't help but to have that sense of longing.

When people tell you that you never truly finish mourning for someone I think this is what they mean. It's the heartache of knowing you're still here and you have to carry on without them that hurts the most. I feel like that about a lot of things; I can't help but to reflect on the journey I've taken so far - of the things, places, and people I've left behind. There's certain things that I've tucked away long ago that sometimes I find myself pondering over, the what ifs of how did that turn out or did the people I used to share my path with heal or change for the better? I'll never know but it still makes me curious.

One of the things that I find when it comes to just getting older in general is knowing that the more you age, so does everyone else and that means that at one point you'll have to say goodbye to them or they will for you. No one knows truly when their time comes not even people who've been given a limited amount. Miracles happen just like tragedies, it's the beauty of life - you can't predict everything. The only thing you can do is better the odds by doing your best to try to strive for the optimal outcome.

There's a lot of emotions that I've had over this whole thing, but like a drop of dye into a pitcher of water - it only gets diluted the more you add - it doesn't go away. I tend not to remember much of the bad regardless of how rocky our relationship was for the past few years, maybe that's part of how soft I've become or just the acceptance of that softness that I tried to hide for the longest while. I understand why things happened the way they did as much as I didn't agree with them but I don't think I have it in me to summon up my vindictiveness like I used to. I'm not that person and I don't want to be that person.

It's interesting how a lot of simple choices add up. That's one thing I think about when it came to my father, he had almost the perfect storm unload upon him for everything that he had done. There was a lot of parallels with how the lack good mental health and self awareness inevitably affected him in the most negative ways possible. I mean he's no longer here to say anything but I think his passing very starkly highlighted his flaws and especially of those around him.

People talk about the person who left but they don't talk typically about the lasting effects it has on the people that are still here. How sometimes it's the fallout of when someone goes that's worse than the actual ordeal of them exiting stage left.

One thing nobody likes to talk about or highlight when it comes to someone's death is how a person handles that stress. I know that I had quite the hurricane of emotions overcome me from anger, bereft, longing, sorrow, and even relief over the whole event. I cared greatly as much as I told myself I didn't. Regardless of what horrible things he did, I didn't want him to suffer but he did.

Witnessing what happened with the rest of my family is part for the emotions I felt as well. A lot of drama surrounded him, and the funny part is he wasn't the catalyst for a portion of it. I don't talk about it much since I mainly stick to myself but there's a divide in my family thanks to the actions of a few. I want to say that everyone can get along but the funeral showcased that wasn't at all possible. It's striking what taking one piece of the puzzle out does. Some people absolutely crumbled under the stress and give way to the worst version of themselves.

I think one of the weirdest things was seeing family I hadn't seen since I was a little girl. Bad events really do call people together, it's like everyone shows up for a moment to help out and when it's over they all scatter back into the dark. I don't know if I'll ever see some of those people again but this has definitely been one of the weirder events I've had the unfortunate pleasure of being a part of.

Between the mudslinging and the outright fit some people threw over this or even the will (which wasn't at all fairly split between anybody but that's another entirely separate rant for another entirely separate time) I can say I want to wipe my hands of this whole mess. Just to step back out of the limelight that I was put in being the oldest out of my siblings since people expected me to say something or take up the responsibilities attached has been refreshing. It's tiring always having people wanting to put more weight on my shoulders like I'm going to take up some of his old mantles or whatever.

Call me cold or callused but I don't care to spend energy trying to glue people back together on that side of the family. I'm done with pretending that I gave a shit, or that I should anyway. If I don't talk to them again then that's fine by me.

I'm tired. That's why I almost felt okay with letting the worst happen. Not like any of this was in my hands in the first place, but a lot of unrest went with my father to the grave and what was left will eventually fizzle out. I'm a-okay with that. Some peace and quiet is what everyone needs here.

Ultimately this whole thing has been sad to see. Watching lines blur of what used to be my younger self's rose coloured vision against what's actually there. I can't help but to long for the more simple day where perhaps ignorance was bliss. The truth is harsh but even with that I much rather know than not.

I wish things could've turned better for everyone but that just isn't possible. Some of it has been entirely unpredictable but what hasn't has had a bit of a karmic effect to which you reap what you sow but I digress. I've said enough so I'll leave it here.

Cheers.

[undergut-au]

Romeo's 100 Percent Love | Chapter 1

As the mysterious affliction plague the underground and cause a lot of chaos and unease, will there be space for love for the newly appointed Royal Scientist and the most trusted Captain of the Royal Guards? [F/F] [Alphyne]

[Tags]: Romance, Tragedy, Body Horror, Angst, Drama, Blood and Violence, Mutual Pining, Eventual Confession, Self-Sacrifice

At AO3 | At Wattpad Contents | Start (You are here.) | Next>

Word Count: 1,378

It has already been two years since the appearance of a disorder that plagued the underground with uncontrolled hunger. Nobody knows when it truly started, but as time passed it became more and more noticeable until it was hard to bear. It caused a lot of general unrest and… chaos as it changed the nature of each individual monsters. It was disturbing, in all honesty. Especially when some monsters—although there was an issued gag order towards the witnesses that has seen such horrors—were seen trying to cannibalize others before they were detained into a more secured area.

Romeo has proven herself the most competent among the King’s men to lead order into the citizens. She was well known among the monsters, they find themselves gravitating to her in admiration despite of her headstrong personality. After all, who wouldn’t? Not only is she a monster of strength but she is also a monster who would listen to the people and take everyone’s opinion into consideration. Over the years, she had always been actively helping the civilians and had gone all the way to assure everyone one by one that she will take care those who have gone ‘rogue’. This was proven to be correct when monsters would come to see their detained families. Although they don’t seem to be mentally well because of the insatiable hunger that they seem to be experiencing, there was no doubt that they were accommodated well. The cells might as well be as comfortable as their own home.

But of course, this wasn’t home. This was a place to keep them from harming others. Every week, more than one monster would be detained, to the point where Romeo fears that there will be no more cells to keep what disaster is going to come.

They needed to find a way to stop this… this hunger. And Romeo’s fear could only be hidden as she faintly feels the hunger starting within her, too.

But, with the grace of the stars above, the King seemed to have found someone reliable enough to appoint as the new Royal Scientist. Romeo and this mystery monster were ordered to work together and find a way to combat this disorder, to find a cure before everything gets worse. Romeo, although relieved to hear that there is someone who could possibly find a way to end this hunger once and for all, is skeptical about this new monster—after all, why would they take so long to come out and step up? Sure, the discovery of hunger was not as bad before but… why take so long to the point where fellow monsters would attack each other just to see if they can satisfy their stomach with their own kind?

Romeo is just getting more and more impatient because soon, she will become one of those monsters too.

Although, it has been a week since the Royal Scientist has been appointed by the King—she could vividly remember Asgore pleading to her to work together with them for the sake of monsterkind. She accepted it, of course, the King kneeled in front of her and held her hands—the kind monster doing his best for his people even when he has lost his family from either death or being left behind. Romeo accepted it without knowing what she was getting into.

Why hasn’t this monster called for her ever since then, though?

Not even once…! Sure, Romeo herself hasn’t gone and approached her—how can she when she is busy with the monsters and security? They were supposed to work together! Thankfully, she found herself making some time in her unstable work schedule and started marching into the laboratory with full armor on. She needed to see this Royal Scientist with her own two eyes. If they won’t come meet her, then she is coming to meet them.

“…” huh. She didn’t know the laboratory is quite… empty. Hell, she even stopped to one of the tables and wiped a table with her gauntlet, there was a thick layer of dust on it saying that this place has been empty for so long. When has this place become so unoccupied?

“Heiikkk…!!!” a little shriek sent Romeo back into reality and whip her head into the direction of that muffled noise. With her heavy steeled boots, she rushes to kick open the door the door where the sound originated—ready to restrain and apprehend anything that was causing trouble…

… but, well, there wasn’t anything to apprehend. Although there is someone that seems to need some medical attention.

“Are you alright?!” Romeo rushed to the monster that was curled up on the floor, hands covered in blood. “Let me go get the doctor—”

“N-nno! N-no n-need…” the reptilian monster shook and mumbled, biting her lip as she pull out a glass shard on her hand—shaking at all the blood although the bandages on her injured hand told that this was not her first injury. “D-do you mind if y-you g-get the first-aid k-kit o-on—”

“On it!” Romeo already went when her eyes picked up the sigh of the kit, quickly getting it and rushing back with urgency. “What happened?” she placed the kit on the ground and took a look at the lizard—the white collared monster washing her wound with a bottle of water that came from the kit.

“I-I haven’t—” the lizard makes a shaky breath, little tears under those thick glasses as she washes the blood away. “—I-I haven’t s-slept s-so I-I m-m-messed—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Romeo grabs the bottle and puts it aside. It was obvious that the monster had overworked, so much so that she might have accidentally broken something and got herself cut. She does see pieces of glass on the table not close from here. Stars, she thought for a moment there was some monster who gone berserk—while the reaction was not enough to tell that, Romeo’s alertness stems from the fact that monsters are not themselves anymore. It was just immediate assumption on her part. “Let me treat you, you don’t look okay enough to do it yourself.”

“I-I—”

“Hush.” She takes off her gauntlets and stop the bleeding with some applied pressure. Thankfully the wound was not deep enough to make it bleed so much, although it did bleed a lot because the two of them were too shocked or panicked to do anything quick. “Maybe I should have come here sooner, it looks like it happened a lot.”

The other monster went silent for a moment, letting Romeo hold her hand before tears start to silently fall more and more. She was not crying because of the pain, no. It was because it has been days since she was newly appointed, the sudden pressure of everything is catching up to her as she failed again and again on trying to find a lead or a breakthrough with this strange disorder that has been spreading. With her other hand that was still bloodied, she covers her mouth to cover any sound from getting out. Romeo was quick to pick this up and look at her.

Ah, damn.

Sometimes, Romeo needs to think. Well, she should have already known considering her own experience.

That being someone important and essential in these times of crisis doesn’t make them immune from said crisis. The lizard monster looked like a wreck who is trying to be strong enough not to sob and ugly cry in front of her. The Royal Scientist in front of her right now is just like any monster who could see the bleak future ahead and is only trying to hold on as much as she can.

If there wasn’t a crisis right now and that the monster is injured in front of him, Romeo would have noticed how she felt towards the monster who has softened her heart from all the tears and little strengths she is showing. Cleaning the wound, she was more careful than usual.

“… you should stop working for today.” She could only say that, saying it more authoritatively because she feels that if she doesn’t, the monster wouldn’t take it without much pushing.

“… o—hic!—o-okay…”

[decoysouled]

prompts for workaholic characters // accepting. @galactia // "no matter how hard you work, it won't bring them back." (for Kaveh, from Alhaitham)

THERE IS A MYRIAD OF BLUEPRINTS SPREAD ACROSS KAVEH'S DESK — it is a sign of days of work with little rest, as is evidenced by how some have splotches of ink & lines that are not quite as crisp as his work usually has. Later, he will take the time to redraw them, but today, he simply leaves them be, imperfect blueprints that would not see the light of day until they were pieced back together neatly in such a way that no one would ever know the messy versions had ever existed.

As with all of his rules, Alhaitham is the one exception, the witness to his frenzied sleepless nights in the haze of inspiration & one too many deadlines coming up. It is a fact Kaveh does not mind some days & detests on others — the other has seen the darkest recesses of his self-destruction & the anguish that has threatened to consume him for so long it has become part of him; like a parasitic presence in his brain, like a virus in his DNA.

( the sort of which he is almost afraid to part with. )

Perhaps he has stretched Alhaitham's patience thin ( he seems to be very good at that, these days ) or there is some sort of genuine concern in those words rather than a simple annoyance for the lack of quiet that his working must bring to their shared home — or maybe it is because he hasn't kept up with the housework in his artistic daze. Whatever the reason for those words may be, there is something within him that finds them irrevocably cruel.

They have fought before, many a time, but only once can Kaveh remember words that cut so deep that Alhaitham may as well have plunged a sword into his chest & called it mercy — that day many years ago, the argument that had lead their paths to diverge for so long that Kaveh had worried he had destroyed their friendship for the rest of eternity.

( he still regrets what he said that day. he wonders if alhaitham does, too. )

Yet these words are no personal attack on the ideals that have been ingrained into his heart since he was merely a child, ignorant of the ways of the world & the grief of losing a parent — no, they seem almost worried, if he were to make the assumption that Alhaitham was disquieted by his antics at any point, considering how he seemed apathetic at best some days. Kaveh knows, at least, that what seems like apathy on the surface is nothing of the sort.

( it would be easier if it was. )

Alhaitham is right, in a way — working himself half to death, as the scribe liked to put it, would not resurrect the dead ( his father who was only gone because of his encouragement, a soul he cannot put to rest ) nor would it bring their mother back to Sumeru, or into his life at all. She had moved on long ago & had a life to worry about that did not concern nor involve Kaveh, something he had encouraged if only because she deserved to be happy after the tragedy he had caused & the agony that had befallen her in her grief.

( yet it was kaveh who could not move on. the creator of his anguish from the very start, delivering retribution upon himself as if he deserves nothing else. it was he who would ruin all things kind & good someday, no matter how he tried to pretend otherwise & fix all he had destroyed in his life. )

❝If there's a chance it will, then at least I can try.❞ He replies, a little more snappishly than he would have liked — it can more aptly be described as defensiveness, the sort of which curls its tendrils around him whenever he feels his beliefs have come under fire by his roommate, as if his words would shatter any semblance of truth that Kaveh had gained throughout his life. ❝But that isn't why I've been working so much as of late.❞

If he felt less vulnerable in this moment ( exhaustion having crept into every crevice of his body, fully on display ) then perhaps he might have been kinder in his response & described to Alhaitham all the work he had to do & the deadlines he had to meet; the crushing weight of too many revisions & the loss of his artistic vision through the wishes of clients who asked him to change far too many things until his work became bland & unrecognisable. Simply another building in a sea of such things.

But today, Kaveh does not explain a thing. Today, he does not look up from his work to gaze at whatever expression the other holds on his face, if only out of fear he might see the same scathing look from many years ago that had been burned into his memory on a night he wishes he could forget.

❝If this is about the housework, I'll get to it soon, Alhaitham. Let me finish up this blueprint first & then I'll make sure the house is nice & tidy.❞ Or as tidy as it would be with the various books strewn throughout it — sometimes, Kaveh swore he didn't neaten them up on purpose, but he has no proof of that. ❝Also, if you wanted me to take care of things, then just say so, instead of...❞ Insulting him? No, that likely wasn't the intention. He can't describe, really, the way those words make him feel.

( the way they cause grief to come back to the forefront of his mind. )

❝Besides, if you really want to focus on which of us has the most problems... Have you even bothered reorganising those books of yours? If those shelves are even dustier than the last time I saw them, I'll make sure you don't even think about leaving them to collect any again.❞ Perhaps it is a welcome distraction, this familiar bickering & the routine between them. It is a small thing to say, the sort of which he has said time & time again.

There is something in him that loosens just a bit at changing the topic. He wonders how long it will take for it to start suffocating him again.

[fangaminghell]

2, 7 and 38 for the Reborn trio!

2.How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Leo- I would say leo laughs fairly easily. He generally tries to hold it in, but he's a giggler lol. Got comparison, he's not as prone to laughter as Imani, but definitely more than Asra. His laughter often comes with him internally panicking and being cringe fail.

Suraya- Her more disciplined nature taught her to hold her laughter to maintain an air of professionalism. Though post post game, she lets herself laugh out loud more.

Blair- Very hard to make laugh, even after the post post game. The easiest way to make xem laugh is to get them drunk, which is something they are usually opposed to. Xe laugh more around Suraya, Leo and Lilith tho, being family. Blake is a special case of his dumbassness being so spectacular that Blair has no choice but to laugh.

7.What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Hmmm.

Leo- Leo looks back on his time with Suraya when they were kids with affection. She was the first person to witness Leo's levitating abilities, and in general, those were the happiest moments of his childhood. Another one is his time with Taka in Tourmaline Desert. Sure, what happened there was a tragedy, but it was when he finally accepted himself as gay and kissed a man he loved. I can see him and Taka going back there sometimes :)

Suraya- Much like Leo, her early childhood with Leo is a point of nostalgia for her. It was before she had gotten so busy with taking up her families mantel as it's heir that her and Leo drifted apart a little. She can recount all the games they would play, and just how cute Leo was back then.

Blair- Xyr childhood wasn't....great. But before all the tragedy, going for walks with xyr family and remembering how beautiful used to be....yeah. that's nostalgic for xem.

38.What memory do they revisit the most often? 

Leo- Wanted? Childhood with Suraya, again Tourmaline Desert minus the stabbing, meeting all of his pokemon and hanging with them :).

Unwanted....well. *looks at all of pokemon reborn* there's a lot. I would say Ame's death, Taka's death, Amaria trying to drown him and everything with Richard are some of the things that keep him up at night. Cause you know. Trauma.

Suraya- Hmmm. I would say helping rebuild Reborn with Adrienn. I mean xe already handled everything, but helping the community more, being on the ground with others instead of being the one looking down was so freshing.

Blair- Blair often finds xemself thinking back to the time xe first met Lilith and can't help but smile at it. The little girl xe meet while trying to escape the sanctum was xyr little sibling and someone who xe thought was dead. Fate has a funny way of working xe guess.