#it's... questionable whether it wouldn't be still better if he could just heal

[inzuinzudesu]

Please zoom in to see small Kakashi! 😭 He kinda disappeared 😭😭😭

Text translation: "Infinite Tsukuyomi" (無限月読)

Drew these in mid-July - when I started doing digital again actually 🤔

Took inspo from the Balut - a street food in my country; I hear a lot of people are grossed out by it?? Don't know if this is controversial, but I personally love the dish. Essentially grew up with it after all!

Wanted to draw something that feels a bit creepy but still has a sense of mysticality to it???

Meh, don't know if the feeling got across or not

I thought since Halloween is coming up, might as well post this haha

About the process of drawing these!

These were very fun to draw! I messed around a lot with photoshop to achieve this glowy dusty effect?? From the brushes to the blending options, and maaan the filter gallery 😭😭 Such fun tools to play with.

The main brush I used to achieve the dusty effect is called "KYLE Bonus Chunky Charcoal", in the Kyle Dry Media brush set. If you can, I recommend checking it out! There are definitely other ways to achieve this sort of effect, though. You can probably just use some sort of scatter texture brush and it'd work just fine. Studying is all about trying things out, right? This is like my first experiment with this type of effect, and I was happy at the time. Now looking back, these could most definitely turn out better, no? I really went overboard with just the effect and forgot everything else. The blood and the plate looks horrible man. If you look closely, you can see the sketch lines haha! I got lazy!

Also, for Obito's pose, I relied heavily on a reference I found on pinterest 😭 I wish I'd changed the pose more tbh, it looks really boring.

And I gotta say, these just look underwhelming in this smaller size. Like reaaaaaally underwhelming. Would love to show you the big version, but oh well! 😭😭😭

Brain vomit time!

I love the prospect (??? is that the right word) of Obito being all god-like and powerful after Tsukuyomi, having control over everybody's dream worlds?? And like he jumps from dream to dream, but stops at Kakashi's and picks it apart???? Observing and tormenting Kakashi with his childhood form that has both sharingan???????

Kakashi would probably be confused with Obito's appearance at first, asking questions like "What are you up to this time, Obito?", but then wouldn't receive any answers??? Like little man would just stare at him creepily, and Kakashi would push this to the back of his mind for a while???

Umm below is the technical stuff, I guess??

My headcanon is that the time span in the dream world is the same as the real world. Meaning, 30 years in the dream world feel incredibly real, with no gap of memories. It's essentially a different timeline. Whether this makes sense or not, who knows haha!

Let's talk about the dream events and how they affect Kakashi! Due to Sakumo and team Minato still living, this Kakashi probably wouldn't be as lax nor sad as in canon?? The relationships and personalities would be different huh???? I'm having a headache thinking about this, so let's just say that: 1. Sakumo lived because the villagers weren't as harsh, but the animosity still remained. Kakashi still developed this obsession with rules, but he doesn't blame his dad as much. 2. Kannabi happened, Kakashi was given the sharingan, along with Obito's ninja way. Team Minato thought that Obito died for a while, but Obito is 'rescued' by Madara, same as canon. 3. Rin would still be targeted by Madara, but Obito came in time to help with the situation, blocking Kakashi's chidori from connecting with Rin's chest, but also knocking Kakashi away. Then, a Mist enemy took advantage of the situation to attack Kakashi, injuring him gravely, to the point where everybody thought he died. With this, Obito activated his Mangekyou and exploded on the Mist enemies, killing them all. Meanwhile, Rin tried to heal Kakashi, just barely saving him. As Obito had dealt with the enemies, there was no need to rush back to the village, and the Sanbi wouldn't be released till then. And so, they waited for Minato to come and help with Rin's seal. (About Obito's Mangekyou activating with Kakashi's death - would that be too far-fetched? My reasoning is that Obito would think that it was his fault Kakashi died, because it was Obito who knocked Kakashi away into the enemy, no?) 4. Because there's no one to become 'Madara' now that Obito came back to the village, Naruto is born, Minato and Kushina live.

5. The Uchiha massacre doesn't happen.

(Everything is incredibly convenient, because I don't have the brain power to make it otherwise, please help 😭😭) -> In conclusion, this Kakashi resembles the Kakashi of the real world, but less depressed and self-destructive??? He loves his living comrades. My man still has a massive obsession (more like crush lol) with Obito by the way, just like in canon. He just doesn't show it.

-> About Obito of the dream world (I'mma call him Dreambito), he is all sunshine and brightness, but he exhibits some dark thoughts and deep rage from time to time due to the residual effects of Madara's seal on his heart. The seal has been removed though. And he has this obsession with Kakashi's safety, as he almost pushed him to his death once, albeit accidentally.

-> I was debating whether to just start this dream world at the point where Obito got crushed, or to start it at the beginning of Kakashi's life. In the end, I went with the latter, cuz ya know, I like the idea of Kakashi living through a whole life all over again, just to finally come to the realization that it's all a dream. Does that make any sense at all??

Obito (child form - 13) first appears in front of Kakashi at the start of the Naruto series, when Kakashi has officially become the teacher of team 7. (Let's not change this okay, my brain would fry haha I'm not gonna deny that the idea of Obito and Kakashi becoming co-teachers of team 7 isn't incredibly fun though)

After the first encounter with this child Obito, Kakashi begins to have flashes of memories from the real world, and he hallucinates about people's deaths - mostly about the members of team Minato. This young Obito is always in the corner of his vision, most of the time silent, sometimes saying things like "You trash" to Kakashi whenever he encounters Rin, who is whole and grown up in this world.

Kakashi exhibits more destructive behaviors as this goes on, the line between the dream events and the real events slowly blurring. He takes more dangerous solo missions out of the village, and shows strong signs of PTSD, just like in canon.

The two Obitos would contrast each other?? Like Dreambito would be all concerned with Kakashi's decline in health (both mental and physical) and goes to confront and comfort him, many times over because that's how it is with them??? Dreambito might even move in with Kakashi, being the obsessive and protective Uchiha that he is. Meanwhile young Obito would be an absolute asshole, saying all these horrible things to poison Kakashi's mind haha

At this point, Dreambito'd be in the last stage on the journey of becoming Hokage, gaining the all the trust from the Uchiha clan, the village elders and the villagers as a whole. I don't know about Rin, though? Should she be romantically involved with Dreambito or no? Would Kakashi dream that??

I think Kakashi's dream would somewhat focus more on Dreambito being happy and satisfied, to be honest. I know there's Sakumo and team Minato as a whole, but as a degenerate shipper, I love the obsession between them🥺

I don't think Obito would directly interfere with what Kakashi is dreaming about, i.e. changing Dreambito's behavior, or like the political situation of the villages (?). But he would most definitely insert himself in Kakashi's psyche, no? Mess it up real good.

Kakashi would slowly realize that he is living a dream world, after all the flashes of memories that Obito generates in his mind. He would most definitely deny it at first though, I think? And then it would reach a point where Kakashi remembers everything from the real world, but he has also lived through 30 something years of the dream world, meaning he'd be in his 60s?? Does that make sense or no?

And so, while Kakashi now knows that everything is a dream, his feelings for everybody in the dream are real. If that's the case, is it really that important anymore that he escapes the Tsukuyomi? Can this dream world really be called fake at this point? Is there even anything in the real world for him to return to?

What's to say 'the real world' isn't a dream at this point?

-> Kakashi would completely close in on himself after this. He still does things that he would normally do, but it'd be all an act. He would feel completely isolated.

-> Dreambito would notice and confront him again, now that they live in the same house??? Kakashi would like say everything is fine and try to act more convincingly, but Dreambito would still know something's wrong????

-> Obito is observing from afar, who knows what his motivation is at this point.

Because this is Kakashi's dream world, I suppose he would have the power to change this world to his will, now that he's aware? This is like a lucid dream situation???

The people in the dream have their own will up until this point, but Kakashi can somewhat change their behavior if he really wants to, whether it's subconsciously or not??? Example: He can probably will Dreambito to kiss him or something lol

So on and so forth!

Man, I'm having waaay too much fun imagining the pain. There are probably like a thousand things that doesn't make sense haha! I do wonder how this sort of storyline should end though, does anybody have any ideas? Personally, I prefer slow burn with a (sort of) happy ending, but ya know, angst all the way is good too! I can't write, but I love thinking about all the things that could happen 😭😭 English isn't my first language, so this might have felt weird to read at some point haha

If anybody wants to develop this, please feel free to do so! And if you've read this far, thank you for reading this absolute brain vomit of mine! I love to yap, as you can tell haha Have a good day!

[joeldarling]

The View Between Villages (Part I) - Oldman!Joel x F!reader

Summary: Based on a request I lost, you are immune and Oldman!Joel saves you.

Warnings: Glasses!Joel mentioned, no reader description at all, no smut on this part but there'll be on the next one, a bit of angst and slowburn, stubborn!reader x caring!Joel, Abby doesn't exist here. Mentions of violence but nothing graphic. Joel just want to fix things and make reader happy.

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Anon, I lost your request and I know that wasn't what you asked but I promise I will make something else, I just wanted to say I got REALLY inspired and it turned out something totally different, your idea was amazing and IT WILL BE SOLID ON MY NEXT WRITING! English it’s not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. I enjoyed so much this one and the next part will be out in two days with the smut! I just felt like writing some angst background was necessary. You can find more oldman!Joel in my masterlist as well. Feedbacks are utterly appreciated and my requests are always open. 💌

When you arrived in Jackson on a hurried, blood-covered night, carried by a stranger and utterly terrified, you never imagined the community could feel so familiar, so much like home, as if the end of the world wasn't a primary concern. Here, people arrived from all corners, given the chance to reinvent themselves.

And you did the same, leaving your old life behind and deciding that your new beginning wouldn't depend on anyone's help. You were born to be alone, and you were—and always would be—a lone wolf. That no longer bothered you as it did when you were younger and less experienced, almost a burden to those who carried you like unwanted baggage. You had sworn to yourself that you'd never count on anyone again, a vow made the moment an exorbitant number of clickers had chased your last group, decimating all of them except for you, for a peculiar reason.

You were immune—and of course, you had climbed the highest tree you could find and hidden for two entire nights, unsure if you would survive.

You'd always known you were different. As a child, you were left almost dead by a group of revolutionaries after being bitten, but two weeks later, you were still alive, hungry and alone. The wound seemed to heal at a snail's pace, but it didn't kill you. That seemed like a secret to keep, especially with radical scientists looking for a cure. And when one of them finally captured you, you thought it was the end of the line, thinking that maybe what you deserved after tricking death so many times.

Joel Miller was a skeptical man, but few knew the violence that had led him to be so gentle.

Tommy and him had been investigating the same group that had taken Ellie years ago. Even with the significant loss of that damned doctor that Joel had killed, the doctor who was willing to sacrifice a child for a cure he clearly couldn't provide, they hadn't rested. They continued searching for those immune to Cordyceps. When they discovered a part of the group's hideout, Joel was the first to question whether they were holding hostages—people who had a chance to survive and live full mediocre lives—for an almost impossible greater purpose.

It was obvious Tommy didn't approve of his decision. But Joel wanted to understand Ellie; he wanted her to live in a world where, if someone else like her existed, she might feel a little better within Jackson's fragile walls.

Perhaps then, she could forgive him.

He embarked on a journey alone in the middle of the night, giving the excuse that he had swapped his patrol shift with some young boy he couldn't even pronounce the name correctly. He rode all night until dawn when he reached what appeared to be an abandoned hospital, experiencing the same flashbacks of years earlier when his heart raced at the possibility of losing his daughter—again.

Because Ellie was his daughter; he couldn't deny it. Not to himself, not after so much effort and sacrifice had been made to ensure she was breathing safely miles away.

Joel heard loud screams, which sounded like a woman, a desperate one, and didn't hesitate to enter the location with his gun ready to kill whoever was necessary. The place was empty somehow, with only a female figure chained to a gurney, wearing little more than a hospital gown, though it seemed she still had on her underwear. She was scared, appeared injured, and still had two IV access points in her arms.

"Ain't here to hurt ya," he said, his accent echoing strong and gravelly. Despite being almost sixty, Joel was still in good shape, except perhaps for the prominent belly from all the beer he used to drink at Tipsy Bison with Tommy almost every night, and the knee pain he always ignored until he had to take a day or two off patrol to recover. "M'gonna take those access out of ya' and then I will give you m' jacket, okay?"

He slowly described everything he was doing to keep you from screaming, but your eyes were pure panic, as if you were completely dissociating, a way to make everything less painful. And well, the doctor and nurses weren't gentle at all; your arms would certainly be all bruised later if you made it out alive, and the wound around your waist had been roughly shaved so they could examine it. Gods, they didn't even have the right equipment for it. You screamed, begged for them to stop.

It was useless.

But as Joel tried, you nodded. It would be better to die by a bullet than slowly from pseudoscientific experiments.

Joel carefully removed the access points, adjusting the dirty piece of cotton as best he could to prevent any bleeding. Once he got you sitting on the gurney, he took off his own jacket and put it on you. It would be a long ride to Jackson, and you two hadn't much time before they returned. Joel had promised himself he wouldn't kill anyone unnecessarily, knowing how much Ellie would disapprove if she found out. He was tired of being a monster, but he wouldn't leave you to die to the whims of chance or fate.

You didn't say anything, no sound emitted except for a few moans of pain when your bare feet hit the cold, dirty floor. Joel agilely lifted your body and, even with his back aching, carried you with surprising gentleness to the back exit where his horse was tied. Getting onto the animal was a little difficult, but when he managed to adjust your body in front of his, trying as much as possible to keep your body warm in a respectful way, he didn't hesitate to move as fast as he could. Even during the small, breathless pause he took in the middle of the dark and silent woods, you refused the food he offered, not out of fear, but because you felt the horse's swaying would make you vomit at any moment, still groggy from the excessive amount of medicine they got you. Joel remained silent, his expression worried. He had briefly seen the wound that should prove your immunity when he put you on the horse, your body still trembling, but he said nothing. It was none of his business anyway.

You certainly didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, but when you did, you only woke to the sound of metal creaking and distant shouts. A group seemed to be on standby in case they needed to go looking for Joel, but they began to disperse when they saw the old man riding back to the gates, almost two days later, given his figure, holding a young woman in his arms, especially as she clung with all the firmness she could to his thick plaid flannel, which wasn't much, completely weak and hurt.

From that, you were taken to a doctor, received proper care and a new chance, without ever crossing paths with the man to whom you owed your life out of pure stubbornness.

He seemed hesitant whenever he saw you, always about to say something but never doing it. You gave no opening, afraid he would tell others about your secret or feel too intimate to be a regular part of your life.

However, Ellie Williams, or whatever her name was, seemed willing to break down all your walls effortlessly. She struck up conversations during lunch and all other meals, invaded your space, offered to walk you home even if she filled the silence the whole time with chatter and you couldn't even pay attention. It was more like she wanted to be listened to, and later you discovered that she was Joel's adopted daughter. He saved her just as he saved you.

It was one afternoon while she was skipping beside you that Ellie revealed Joel had told her about your immunity — you froze. It wasn't his secret to share. You opened your mouth and closed it, still unsure what to say to a teenager who genuinely seemed to want your friendship. You didn't want to hurt her feelings, but the anger was boiling your blood.

"I am like... this. No one knows it, of course, it's still dangerous even here but... Joel told me the day you guys arrived and made me promise I wouldn't act weird." Her voice was low, as if the two of you were sharing a secret, and in fact, you were. "I thought I was a monster but... You don't look like one. That just means I'm not alone."

A knot formed in your throat as you continued walking, your gaze fixed on your own feet. The wound, a constant reminder of your past, seemed to sting a thousand times more now, burning with shame. It was painfully clear that a girl like her, Ellie, was just lonely. And though you were still frustrated with Joel, you started to understand his perspective. It wasn't his fault, or yours, or hers. You simply didn't know how to handle it.

"I don't like talking about it." You cut the conversation short, something you'd never done before. Ellie looked upset, clearly taken aback by your sudden shift, but you didn't care. You'd reached your house anyway. Slowly, you climbed the steps, crossing your arms, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You stepped inside and slammed the door shut, unable to shake the annoyance. All of this felt like a curse, and honestly, you didn't care about a cure. Not when, after all these years, it clearly wasn't going to work. You were alone, and there was no reason for you to sacrifice yourself for anyone. Selfish tears streamed down your face as your body collapsed onto the sofa. You didn't even notice the fireplace was lit, as if someone had been there, not until you read the note left in rough letters on stained paper on the wooden coffee table.

"Figured ya'd could get cold. The house needs some fixing, let me know when you're available. — J" 

You weren't alone; all those people wanted to help you. Still, the only thing you felt was rage, having spent so long surviving on your own that any display of affection felt like the end of the world. You didn't feel worthy; you felt dirty.

But you weren't the only one. You weren't a freak of nature. You could handle this.

You should.

You fell asleep right there, and when you woke, sunlight had already faded, giving way to the stars and the full moon, another cold night. You searched for Joel’s jacket, the only one you owned, and put it on, deciding to head outside. The clock read nine o'clock; dinner had barely begun.

The leather still carried his scent. You hadn't mustered enough courage to return it, and it was warm, lined inside, preventing the dampness from reaching your other layers of clothing. For the first few days in your new home, you even wore it to sleep, not because you were cold, but because it felt familiar, something you couldn't recall feeling throughout your entire life.

As you walked toward the community hall, shrinking further into the jacket, your mind drifted far away. You knew you should apologize to Ellie; after all, you were the adult, and despite everything, she deserved answers too. You understood more than anyone how lonely Jackson could be. Maybe if you found her there, you could tell her how sorry you were and start again.

Your dissociative state, however, shattered when your body collided with another, sending you sprawling to the ground, your tailbone protesting with a loud crack from the sheer lack of exercise.

“Jeez’, doll!” You'd recognize that voice even with your eyes closed, but staring at his worn and heavy boots was enough to confirm it was Joel offering his large, calloused hand to help you up, a worried look on his face. He was wearing another thick, dark jacket, a scarf, and his glasses seemed fogged by the cold. His curly, graying hair was slicked back as if he'd just stepped out of the shower. “Didn’t saw ya’, my bad. Was lookin’ for ya’ the other day and…” 

His eyes lingered on your body as you stood, brushing dirt from the jacket. Joel would never admit how much his chest swelled with satisfaction seeing you still wearing his jacket. It was certainly too big, but even so, it looked better on you. His gaze softened on your rosy lips, on features he found so beautiful he almost forgot the years that separated you. You were certainly in your mid-twenties or so, but he was still sixty and could be your grandfather.

"I…" You started, trying to form a sentence, but since you'd arrived in town, you hadn't exchanged a single coherent phrase with him, stunned and scared. Joel seemed to understand. "Thank you, Joel. For everything."

That's what escaped your lips, and he nodded, the phrase heavy with meaning dissolving the earlier anger. Because above all, you understood he was just an old man who wanted the best for his daughter, who wanted to understand her world, and yet, he was generous enough for that to involve saving strangers in hospitals and risking his own life during the process.

"Ya' don't have to thank me," he mumbled back, realizing he was still holding your hand and making no move to let go. "Hope I didn't burn your house down with the fire today."

"No, you did not," you replied, pulling your hand from his and burying it in the jacket's pockets, feeling your cheeks burn with a shyness you didn't know still existed deep inside you.

Joel cleared his throat, sounding as awkward as you felt, but instead of moving on, just as he was about to take a step away, he looked at you again.

"Ellie told me ya' got a bit upset today. It was my fault, not hers. She likes you a lot. Don't be mad at her," Joel confessed, sounding somehow emotional. "It was the first time she really talked with me in months… When I rescued you, I told her the reason but… Today was the first time she…"

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know she wasn't talking with you." You were sincere. "I was going to apologize to her. Maybe we could walk together? I… suppose you're heading to dinner?"

You stumbled over the words slowly, captivating Joel's attention with every second without even realizing it. He wasn't going to dinner, no. It was rare for Joel to have dinner; he usually spent his nights at the Tipsy Bison and ate whatever he found at home afterward since he hated all the chatter in the community hall and all the lines, the stress of choosing a group to interact with due to the lack of individual tables… Well, he was kinda a lone wolf too.

"Yes, sure," he grunted. It was funny how Joel's grumpy demeanor extended to everyone but you. How he seemed to ignore all the waves, especially from all the middle-aged women, as he walked silently beside you, hands in his pockets, toward the community hall.

Before you could even step inside, voices were already audible and you flinched. Joel seemed to notice, looking at you with a raised brow. You certainly hated the stares you attracted; it wasn't as if you'd arrived in Jackson as a refugee or anything. Joel had gone out on his own and returned with you, and whatever his reasons were, clear to you, they certainly weren't—and shouldn't be—to the rest of the community.

"I have sum' stuff at home I could cook for us. I know how… suffocating it can be," he offered gently, as gentle as his husky voice allowed, which sent shivers through your entire body. You knew you shouldn't accept, knew you should continue your life as alone as possible because you viewed all attachments as weaknesses.

That's what they had taught you your whole life. But here… here, affection was present in absolutely everything, and it made you long for something you couldn't have.

Even so.

"That would be nice…" You agreed, sighing in relief. The great food wouldn't compensate for the small talk that churned your stomach, all the filtered parts of your past during a thirty or forty-minute period.

You both began walking in the opposite direction. Joel had a long stride but seemed to make an effort not to let anxiety consume him, adjusting his pace to match yours.

"I saved ya' that day because I was looking for someone like Ellie. Maybe a child or a young man but… that wasn't… just fate. These damn so-called-doctors are stalking people down and treating them like a fuckin' experiment." He sounded almost angry, and you wondered if that's how his and Ellie's lives had crossed.

"I never stepped in to say thank you properly," you began, feeling utterly embarrassed. "I was alone since my last group left me to die, and I… Well, these people you rescued me from, whatever they are called, found and knocked me down. The last thing I remember was being tied and having my bruise scalped and…" Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, the air suddenly thin, and you couldn't finish your sentence, clearing your throat and looking up at the starry sky.

You rarely saw stars in the dense forest; they seemed almost a miracle, a gift.

"I just want you to know that I was alone my entire life, and it's hard for me to let people help… That doesn't mean I'm not immensely grateful for what you did for me. You saved my life, and I owe you forever." You said, your voice still thick with emotion.

"You owe me nothing, darlin', just be happy, and I'll be satisfied." He seemed sincere. Joel was difficult to decipher.

You walked for a bit longer before he pointed to his own house with his right hand. He lived at the end of the street, with a rather beautiful view of the surrounding fields and mountains. When he opened the door and let you in, it felt much more like a home than yours. The furniture was of the same worn standard, but picture frames were scattered about with the few photographs he had: an unknown girl in a purple shirt, placed directly above the fireplace in a photo where he was smiling and looked years younger, even before everything happened. A photo of Ellie and another one of Tommy beside a younger Joel. They weren't many things, but they felt personal.

The sofa held a beige blanket, and the fire in the fireplace was almost dead. He attentively switched on the lights and gestured for you to make yourself at home.

Joel wasn't good at small talk but neither were you and the silence felt comfortable. You settled into one of the chairs around the not-too-large table, entertained by what looked like a cube full of colors that never seemed to align correctly.

You hadn't seen much of the world, never even had the opportunity as you were born after everything had fallen apart. Deep down, you held onto the belief that you couldn't miss something you'd never experienced. Still, you knew life was about more than just surviving, eating rabbits, and leaving a trail of blood wherever you went.

"It's called a 'magic cube,' you have to match the colors right," Joel said, his tone almost playful, as he put pasta into a pot of water and searched for other ingredients to make what was presumably a sauce. "I never solved it; it's quite impossible."

"Indeed it is," you agreed, examining it with curiosity, trying to find a solution.

"How old are you?" he asked, using another pot and pouring ingredients into it.

"Twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five next spring. I just don't know the day, so I just assume it's the first one after that." You answered, still too focused on the cube, but deciding to put it aside the moment you realized it truly seemed to have no solution, letting out a single laugh to yourself. “It’s funny.” 

“You can take them. Ellie has plenty of those. She lives in the garage.” He explained, seeming hopeful that maybe his relationship with his daughter could improve.

Joel continued to unravel the mysteries in his own kitchen and you started to feel slightly useless just standing there. Rising from that feeling, you moved to the sink, beginning to wash whatever he dirtied and set aside for more than three seconds. It was almost like a silent connection. You both seemed to function well, your bodies nearly touching, sharing the small space in synchrony with the warmth you both emanated.

You knew Joel was a broken man, and like you, he carried demons he'd never dared to face. Perhaps, that was the most beautiful part of him.

When everything was ready, and he set the food on the table, along with the plates and glasses filled with cold water, you moved towards your chair, bumping into him for the second time that night. This one, however, instead of letting you collide, Joel caught your waist, and your faces were forced to meet. His breathing seemed labored, and his strong arms were exposed by his moss-green t-shirt, having shed his outer layers minutes before for better mobility.

"Watch out, beautiful," was the only thing he said, making no move to release your waist, his touch deepening, as did the tension between you. He looked at you almost as if he were starving, and the confusion in your eyes didn't seem to be an impediment, because deep down, you felt the same thing. 

Joel finally looked into your eyes, and all you knew was that the entire world had fallen silent, as if it were waiting for something.

[amisha-jaya]

He is literally confessing he will love Leonore forever and he will die soon and he is at peace.

And you care for your ship!?!???!????

This book is about propaganda and paying attention and is published THIS YEAR in THIS POLITICAL CLIMATE

And YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR SHIP!?!?!??

A ship that is nonexistent in the books!!!?!?

Yes. Next question.

But since you asked important questions about politics and propaganda, I think you deserve a more thoughtful answer.

Yes, I care about my ship. I love Hayffie, and nothing will stop me from shipping them because I love them. Whether it's canon or not, whether it's in the books or not, does that even matter? I don't know why people are freaked out by ships. Shipping is fun because they're fictional characters, and it strengthens a fandom. And what if it's not canon? Seriously, you guys wouldn't have survived the ElsaxJackFrost era. It's my life and my account. If I feel like it, I can ship, I don't know, Mags with Beete, and no one can stop me.

That I care more about a ship than the book's message? So what? It's not the first book to address the issue of propaganda. I love dystopian literature. In fact, my favorite dystopian book is Fahrenheit 451, which marked a deep love for books. The world is a shithole and always has been. I don't need anyone to tell me that; I'm living it. I'm Latina, from Peru, to be precise. I could write a lot about how screwed up my country is because of corrupt authorities. I know what it's like to live under propaganda, I hate propaganda, and I live in constant fear that my country will end up in dictatorship again. I don't stop fighting, even though they might kill me, because this government kills protesters, calling them terrorists and communists.

Forgive me for worrying about a fictional ship instead of a message I've already ingrained in my mind after studying, reading, and experiencing it. I really hate the moral superiority the fandom has when it comes to claiming they do care about the message of the work. I'm not saying this about you, anon, but it's annoying to see that kind of criticism directed at people who are just enjoying something. We don't deny the message; we understand it. But I think emphasizing the obvious would be a very poor analysis of what we're being given. One thing that characterizes fandom is overanalyzing even a single sentence because we're unbearable and we like it that way.

Finally, what's stopping Haymitch and Effie from being together after the epilogue? Haymitch is finally healing, and it's a possibility. Until their deaths are confirmed, Hayffie will always be a possibility.

Haymitch is one of my favorite characters, and I find it very sad that he's closing himself off forever, so I'm not going to accept it. He deserves better than to die a depressed alcoholic yearning for a past love. Especially since he was so young—he was 16 when all this happened to him. And Haymitch is only 42—still young to die. In real life, people are attracted to others again; it doesn't mean they don't love their lost love, but they can move on.

I prefer to stick with that take.

[angeldoll2000]

First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change. 

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first. 

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough. 

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.  

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.  

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.  

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault. 

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.  

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.  

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more. 

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.  

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom. 

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife," 

"We're not--" 

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.  

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.  

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.  

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.  

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.  

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.  

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.  

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.  

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.  

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.  

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.  

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.  

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Remember the Pokémon trainer ask with having pokepastas in their team? Could I maybe request something angsty?~ basically can I get headcanons of Arven and Kieran’s reaction to finding out Trainer got in a accident and was suffering from VERY lethal injuries and in panic missingno..basically messed them up into a pokepasta trainer,kinda corpse looking and now in never ending pain because of the raw wounds that never fully Heal but ofc take medication to numb the pain down and look out now for they’re friends so they don’t suffer the same fate? :))

Oh btw have a nice day or night!!! Remember to drink water!

Arven

From the moment he, Penny, and Nemona discovered your team enjoying a picnic...he always wondered how you got something like Missingno on your side.

But since it nearly corrupted his damn pokedex trying to just get information on it AND you were reluctant to share your past, he figured you'd just say "don't ask questions you don't want answers to" and end the convo right there.

He definitely wouldn't let Mabosstiff near it.

Last time he went near a Pokémon nobody should've known about...he almost lost his companion.

From time to time, he catches glimpses of your wounds (not during picnics ofc), bandages, and the medication Nurse Miriam prescribed to you, and suggests you save some of the herbs for yourself.

And they do help with your pain management when incorporated into tea or sandwiches (especially the salty herba mystica, which relieves your aches for a little while).

They're not miracle cures, but it's something.

Eventually, there comes a point where you know Arven wants to understand how you acquired Missingno, why you have so many ghastly Pokémon by your side, and why you were determined to defend him and the others down in Area Zero.

So you sit down and explain how you found it by accident in Kanto, caught it, and realized it was simply a lonely creature who wanted a trainer it could love and protect. Like any other Pokémon.

Yet you didn't realize the extreme lengths it would go to achieve that goal....until you nearly suffered a lethal wild Pokémon attack (it was in the dead of night, and you were ambushed while chasing after what you thought was a shiny).

You were bleeding out, bones broken and gaping wounds all over your body, and unconsciously begged for help-

And Missingno somehow heeded your call, escaping its pokeball and reviving you.

But in doing so, you were brought back as a zombie..one who still remembers the pain of that night and often cursed the glitch for not letting you die.

In time though you've made peace with it, knowing you were stuck this way now and it wouldn't let you go...

To the point where it erased its own pokeball from existence and became a constant presence around you, invisible aside from a few occasional glitch particles.

Yet you knew Missingno didn't mean any ill intent--all it wanted to do was save you.

Now you vowed to save others so they didn't suffer the same fate as you, whether that be haunted Pokémon left abandoned in some town or atop a mountain or your human friends in Area Zero.

Your pains aren't as severe now thanks to the meds, and you're grateful for Arven introducing you to herba mystica.

You were afraid he was gonna be freaked out by your story (or not believe you), but..while he finds it horrific and sad at first, he understands you better and is simply glad you're here now.

He's also happy to help his buddy manage their pain better, even if the remedies are only temporary.

Kieran

You had to bandage and conceal a great deal of your wounds so nobody at BB Academy got concerned, with DISABLED giving you a consistent best Heal Pulse to ensure your chronic pain wasn't debilitating).

Even so, Kieran assumes you got better over the past year and is desperate to battle you and win Missingno..something he vowed to acquire after realizing he'll never get Ogerpon.

You try explaining that it's literally impossible for you to surrender it, and it's too dangerous to bring it into a battle anyway, but he thinks you're just lying to him again and bragging.

In the back of his mind, though...he kept wondering why you had so many injuries..

Ofc..he's too focused on being stronger than you to ask you.

But after seeing Missingno come out (in its Fossil Aerodactyl form) and literally glitch Terapagos' beam out of existence and use Cut on multiple falling rocks---he was amazed.

You finally invite him to your dorm to talk after the mochi mayhem events, knowing he deserved some answers.

He sees the pain meds littered all over your countertop, and you finally reveal to him why you need those, why you look the way you do, and why you keep Missingno around:

Basically, after catching and befriending it, you got attacked by some wild Pokémon, and they would've left you for dead had it not intervened.

You made it feel loved, cherished, never using it as a weapon or an infinite item dispenser...and it couldn't watch you bleed to death.

So it saved your life, but it came with a great cost: neverending physical pain with your wounds never fully healing.

You used to curse Missingno for not letting you go, trying to release it several times to no avail, and just being miserable in general.

Yet once you realized it attracted more misunderstood, tortured, and damaged Pokémon to your side..you came to forgive it, knowing it was just like them despite its uncanny appearance: a creature who just wanted to protect its trainer.

Now you take medication (and a few leaves of herba mystica) to numb the pain down, so it didn't hurt as much as it did before.

You wouldn't want anybody to have a brush with death like you did. Not even your worst enemy.

That's why you went so far to protect your friends in Area Zero, especially Kieran.

After hearing your story, he felt so torn up and guilty--and convinced he was being "overdramatic".

You were still suffering all along, for years..and he had no idea, only thinking about himself and his selfish ways and how his pain couldn't possibly compare to-

But you stop your friend from spiraling, holding him and letting him cry out all of his renewed guilt, telling him that his own suffering was valid, too.

He was starting to look like a corpse with the dark circles and paler complexion....and it scared you.

Seems like he took "I wanna be like you" a bit too literally.

But you're glad Missingno saved you--otherwise you never would've gotten the chance to meet him and help him become more confident in himself (ofc you wish things were different before and didn't require you shattering his confidence first).

Since that conversation, Kieran starts taking better care of himself and makes a promise to protect you.

Not from physical threats per se as you're basically immortal, but from rude stares and whispers of how "creepy" you are.

He tends to hug you a lot and lend you his jacket for warmth if you ever get cold in class or in the polar biome.

It does help with the chills you get so often, and makes you feel grateful that you two were still friends despite everything.

[letmedixonyou]

i’m not yours - part 6

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He's dating Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?; Y/N's journal page, drunken thoughts about her encounter with Leah from the previous chapter.

words: 764 - short but super necessary for the story

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

A/N: I am thrilled that so many people like this story. Honestly, I wasn't going to make chapters for this, but here we are! Love ya'll! Thank you for reading! 🖤

If this chapter seems a bit cringey, is because it supposed to be as the character is quite drunk and just writes what she's thinking at the time!

Read previous part here!

Page from Y/N journal

SHE DOESN'T KNOW!!!

Leah has no fucking clue!

She has no idea who he is. That some bullshit! She must know something, right? He wouldn't keep her in the dark like this? Maybe he would... He hasn't told her? Why? Isn't that what people in a relationship do? Share? Like, actually share their fears, dreams and things about their past? Leah has so idea who the fuck Daryl is? Like why he's sometimes so broody and quiet, or why he has days when he needs to be alone.

He told me. I know. Everything. Well, probably not everything but most things, especially the important ones. Doesn't that mean something? But what? What does it mean? Why do I know him better than his partner!? How is that even possible... Leah dates a stranger. A ghost even. She goes home to him every night and sleeps with him in the same bed. She probably fucks him every day. I know I would've... Yet she has no idea who she's giving herself to and who he is for real. What the fuck?!

I remember so clearly the first time I saw his scars I was mortified. It was back in Atlanta, we were looking for some deer, squirrels or any food in general. He somehow miscalculated how far away we were from a hill that was overgrown with vines and bushes, and he slipped all the way down. Dumbass... When I got to him, running all the way (or more like stumbling because you couldn't classify the fast crab walking down the hill through the flora as a run), his top was torn apart by the branches and whatever else he smashed into.

My eyes widened, looking at his slumped shoulders and broad back, when he scrambled to stand up, clearly embarrassed. The scars looked painful, even though they were healed. They're long and thin, running vertically down and across his back. The crosses they made on his back, and how deep the scars were, I was sure he could probably feel them sometimes when he moves. He tried to hide it, frantically pulling the pieces of the fabric around him, saying that I should stop looking at them or I'll get a punch. I turned my gaze away quickly, not wanting for his fist to ruin my pretty face. Not that I think he'd punch me for real. But still. Oh, and also I didn't want to pry because who was I to ask about his past? We've just met. It would be even so inappropriate, even if my tongue was itching to question. But it was mostly about my face...

The next couple of days we had to move as Rick wanted to check out CDC in Atlanta. Once we got there, it turned out there was one person left and no other scientists, so humanity had no cure. Oh, and we all carry the zombie virus so whatever happens to us, whether we die of old age or we get shot, stabbed or bitten, if no one kills our brains, we become one of the walkers. Anyways, before we found out the truth and the building blew up to pieces, we all spent the evening laughing and drinking wine. It was peaceful for once.

That night, Daryl came to my room a bit tipsy and confessed. About his childhood, his scumbag of a father, beating him up almost every day, his absent mother, about the scars that his father's belt left on him. He told me everything about Merle, his brother, and I listened. I will never forget the words he said when I've asked why he decided to tell me.

"I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to be heard. And I knew you'd listen."

I've never seen him that vulnerable (and he never was that vulnerable ever again). He wouldn't look me in the eyes after he said it and I didn't force him. All I did was hug him tightly and he reluctantly hugged me back.

Now I'm finding out he hasn't shared the details of his life with Leah? Leah, who was his girlfriend? Who is supposed to have this type of information? What the hell, Daryl? I know you were quite tipsy when you shared with me for the first time but you never had trouble sharing with me after that. NEVER. Although nothing topped the story about his dad... My brain can't process this. I need sleep.

Why am I the one who he trusts?

Am I the only one he trusts?

Is it possible...

No. Fuck.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Hi hi!!! I just found your blog and I love how you wrote Astarion. I have a small request if you're still taking them!

Because of Halsin's one line about how his wildshape is hard to repress I have a headcanon that certain druidic animal forms get triggered by certain emotions. So what if a druid Tav was hurt or scared and got stuck in animal form, and Astarion had to calm them down long enough for them to shift back/get healed

Aww, I like this. But some TW: The reason for them being hurt/scared is fucked and involves dead children. I killed off some NPCs for this one (but they live in the real game I swear!) Also set in Act 2, after he confesses. Just so you know! Don't trigger yourself for this.

~

There was a reason that Astarion always tried to convince you to not leave him behind at camp. Mostly because it could be dreadfully boring, doing nothing but sitting there waiting for your return. But also because he didn't like being out of the loop. There had been many moments, too many, where he had been the sole reason you were still standing. Whether that be stabbing someone in the back who held a dagger to your throat or being the one to help you back on your feet from the brink of death, Astarion had gotten very good at keeping you alive.

He didn't trust anyone to watch out for you the way he could, a belief that was instantly strengthened when the group came back. With you nowhere to be seen. It was only Halsin and Shawdowheart, beaten and bloodied as they limped their way forward.

The sight of them had Astarion on his feet in an instant, an awful feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he waited for you to slink out of the tree line to join them. But nothing.

"Where are they?" Astarion asked, his voice loud and fraught enough to cut through the others questions on what happened, "Why isn't Tav with you?"

Neither of them answered, instead they swapped a knowing grimace. The silence was enough for Astarion's blood to go cold, the worst jumping to the forefront of his mind. B-But that couldn't be. The two in front of him wouldn't just leave her to die, would they? He would hope not, otherwise he'd be forced to bleed them both dry. Astarion was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even realized how heavily he was breathing, how his hands were trembling at the very thought of your being gone. Your corpse just left behind for the wolves in the cursed Shadowlands.

"Astarion, breathe," Halsin said gently, the behemoth of a man suddenly standing in front of him, his hands gently resting on his shoulders, "I know where they are, they're okay. They just... aren't exactly themselves right now, or at least not the version you know."

"If they're okay then why in the hells aren't they here?" Astarion seethed back at him, swatting his touch away before steeping back, "You just left them out there? Alone?"

"It's not that simple," Halsin started, right as Shadowheart piped up, "Karlach is with her. We aren't that incompetent."

"Well considering that our leader is missing, I wouldn't exactly call you capable," Astarion barked back at her, already turning back towards Halsin, "Take me to them. Now."

The venom in his voice would have surprised Astarion himself if he was capable of thinking about anything but you dead in the middle of nowhere. He barely even had the patience for Halsin to get adequate healing, but it was better than having to wait for him to limp the entire way there. He felt antsy and off center for the entire journey, completely foreign emotions taking over him. He didn't care about people like this, for the precise reason that it led to these horrifying moments of uncertainty. He didn't know what he would do without you anymore. He didn't want to ever find out.

It figures that you would go and almost get yourself killed right after he admitted a portion of his feelings to you. And now everything he wished he'd said was invading his every thought.

"Oh come on now, don't make that face! You know me!"

The sound of Karlach's voice was enough to bring him out of his own head. She was up ahead, kneeling next to a small cave opening as she spoke, "For something so cute, you're being a bit of a pisser right now. Aren't you?"

Astarion didn't miss the bodies littering the way between where he stood and the cave, a mix of homely gnolls and dead tieflings, some that he unfortunately recognized from the grove. He didn't take the time to examine them closely, but... he was aware that many looked young. Much, much too young to have died here.

"There they are," Halsin sighed as Karlach cooed at the cave opening, "They've been in there since we stumbled upon all of... this."

"They've gotten less scratchy at the least," Karlach added, standing up with a stretch, her gaze pointedly avoiding the massacre in front of them, "But they won't stop hissing up a storm. I tried to pull them out by the scruff and almost lost a hand, so I'm thinking we may have to wait this one out."

Astarion ignored her as he got closer to the cave, his eyes widening at what he saw. It was you, or at least he was thought it was. He was well-aware of your druidic abilities and he had seen you polymorph into a ferocious beast many, many times. But never like this. No, you always had a human air about you when you shifted, the reality of your true shelf always shining through your eyes, never without perfect control.

But now, you were cowering in your panther form, your eyes daring back and forth, your coat so covered in blood that it nearly looked like you had been swimming in it. You even hissed at the sight of him of all people, your teeth bared as you backed farther against the cave wall, nothing but pure animal fear and rage behind your eyes.

"It can happen sometimes," Halsin explained with a frown, "Tav is very connected with this form, perhaps too connected. Enough so for it to take over when they're particularly distressed. It used to happen to me even, many, many moons ago. It can take hours to change back, maybe even days. And it can be very... difficult to remember your life outside of instincts."

Well wasn't that just fucking awful? Figures there had to be a drawback to such a powerful advantage. But he'd be damned if he'd leave you out here alone for days. And he doubted that the extra audience would help with anything.

"Leave us," Astarion ordered, his eyes still on you, "I'll find a way to bring them back to camp."

Halsin and Karlach exchanged a glance, obviously weary at the idea. Karlach cleared her throat, "Astarion, I know that the two of you are, um, close, but I don't think you can do anything-"

"Watch me," Astarion said, his words petulant even to his own ears. But he meant it. If anyone could help you through whatever this was, it was going to be him, "If I'm not back before the sun rises feel free to look for me. Now leave."

"But she could kill you on accident! And if my best friend had to wake up to that-" Karlach tried to argue, interrupted by Halsin putting a strong hand on her shoulder, "Just because part of them is lost doesn't mean all of them is. Astarion can handle himself."

Astarion was a bit surprised to receive the druid's support, but he wasn't about to argue over it. He nodded at them, "I'll be fine. Now go, I don't think the crowd is helping with their nerves."

Astarion watched them walk away, only relaxing when they were out of sight. It felt like he could finally breathe again. There you were, safe and sound if not a bit... changed. But he could work with that.

Astarion sat cross-legged to the side of the cave entrance, his voice soft but scolding as he spoke, "'I'll be safe Astarion, don't worry about me Astarion, you're such a little overthinker Astarion.' And now look at you, trapped in a cave with a cat's body. Darling, I think it's high time that you start listening to me."

Astarion hadn't been expecting an answer, but the pitiful little chirp you let out brought a smile to his face. He scooted a bit closer to the entrance, careful not to actually cross the threshold as he spoke, "I'm serious Tav, do you know how horrible it was to see them come back without you? I'd say a punishment would be in order, if you weren't too busy giving it to yourself that is."

Another small, dejected noise, but it sounded closer this time. Astarion glanced at the entrance, smiling when he saw you sitting there on all fours, your tail twitching as you peeked outside. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing to do but Astarion slowly brought his hand up, hovering it right in your face while praying that you wouldn't take the chance to bite it off, "It seems like you haven't lost the faculty for understanding language yet. Lick my hand if I'm right."

You did, your large sandpaper tongue gliding over his palm before retreating. You looked... different than before. In a good way, but not a whole way.

"That's a good kitty," Astarion praised, laughing at the way the pet name made your brows scrunch up. Perhaps you weren't fully yourself, but enough of you was there for him to know you'd be getting him back for that little quip, "Oh don't look at me like that. You're the full-grown adult in the body of a glorified housecat."

The little growl you let out at that just made him laugh harder, "A very pretty housecat. Does that help my love?"

You didn't answer. Instead you turned with a huff and retreated back into the cave, your demeanor much more relaxed than before. Relaxed enough for Astarion to venture in there after you. It was a small space, just large enough for a panther to lay and a man to sit. You didn't hiss or growl as he settled in, just watched him with sharp eyes.

Astarion didn't like it. You were usually so tactile with him, always finding reasons for touch, even if they were simple. Standing shoulder to shoulder, intertwining your fingers together, hugs and kisses innocent enough to make Astarion melt. Even in your animal form, not touching you just felt... wrong.

But Astarion also wasn't trying to get mauled. He kept his hands to himself, his head cocked as he stared at you, "Are you honestly going to stay all the way over there? We might be here all night darling, you wouldn't want me to be cold would you?"

Perhaps that was manipulative phrasing, but at least it worked. You shuffled closer, resting your head in his lap while staring up at him with those big eyes.

"See?" Astarion cooed down at you, taking the chance to pet your head, "Isn't that better?"

You didn't answer, instead you closed your eyes, a light purr coursing through you. You really did make an adorable panther, even when your fur was crusted with blood and the tiniest bit of gore. Perhaps you didn't smell that best at the moment, but you sure were cute. You fell asleep there, right in his lap, your body finally fully relaxed.

This wasn't exactly how Astarion intended on spending his night, but there were plenty of worse things. Like having the bury the love of his life for example. Or watching a gnoll tear into their corpse. But luckily enough for him that didn't happen. No, he had you with him, safe and sound. Panther or not, he loved you, and one of these days he would get the courage to admit it out loud. Hopefully sooner than later, considering how easily you could be taken from him.

Astarion hadn't planned on falling asleep with you, but you were so warm, and the sound of your happy purring was nearly hypnotic. The next thing he knew he was out, awaking hours later to a dark cave and a different weight set in his lap. But not an unfamiliar one.

Astarion glanced down, breathing out a sigh of relief when it was you back to normal, seemingly shifting in the middle of the night. You were laying in what seemed to be an extremely uncomfortable position, your cute face smooshed against his leg as you slumbered.

"There you are," Astarion murmured, the quiet sound of his voice still enough to jolt you awake. You blinked your eyes open, sitting up with a start as you frantically looked around.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Everything's okay," Astarion said gently, tugging you back to him, "You just had a little... incident. That's all."

You nodded, the memories from the day seemingly hitting you all at once. He could see the tears start to well up in your eyes as you stared at the ground, "I... I remember the tieflings. We found them too late. And I saw one of those things gnawing on... on Silfy. And another on Mattis and I just... lost it."

Oh gods. Astarion didn't exactly have a soft spot for children, but the thought of seeing one of the ones you had saved, eaten alive was horrifying. Even against the things he had seen.

"Come here love," Astarion murmured, holding his arms out; his heart breaking at the look on your face.

You went to him, nearly collapsing in his arms as you cried into his shoulder, "I didn't save them. I- they were right there. And I didn't save them."

"You can't save everyone," Astarion said as he stroked your hair, "Not every life can be your responsibility. It just can't."

"Why not?" You sniffled, looking up at him with tired eyes, "Why does this have to keep happening? Why can't I do something about it?"

"Because the world wasn't made for people like you," Astarion said honestly, "It is cruel and horrific and it doesn't deserve you. But it needs you anyway. It needs someone who cares, despite everything that proves you shouldn't. And that's not fair, but it's true."

Part of him could scarcely believe such words were even his own, let alone that fact that he believed them. But he did. You couldn't save everyone, no. But that didn't stop the fact that those you could mattered. That your kindness and passion for good did mean something, it meant enough to help hundreds of people. And enough to change him. Astarion would never be the same after meeting you. He didn't want to be, but even if he did the change was irrevocable. Because that's just the effect you had on people. And he felt so damned lucky that he was one of them.

You nodded against him as you let all of your tears out, his words meaningful but not enough to stop the pain completely.

But that was okay. Astarion wasn't going anywhere.

[inkyycapp]

Yokai!matsu kidnapping reader..? It ticks a few things at once. Oh! Oh! They're kidnapped cos they were found injured, but even after they've healed the yokai brothers (seperately) refuse to let them go.

Cough, cough. I love this, cough.

You're getting hcs too.

Ahem

Slight notice! I did some minor research for this, but even then I'm still unsure !! If anything is wrong please do tell me !!

(Uh so, really bad weather rn. Wifi going in and out and tornadoes lurking around, so, like that's rad ig !! Forgive me.)

Tw/Cw: Injuries, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, manipulation(?), desperation, spelling/grammar(?), probably a little or a lot ooc I'm terrible at telling !! Forgive me !!

Youkai!Matsu x Injured!Reader

( Yokai!Matsu but used Youkai for letter colors..:D )

Small reader context !!

For whatever reason you're in the mountains doing whatever your mortal self does up there. A sharp pain shoots through your leg causing you to slip. Your foot set off a bear/fox trap. A group of bandits or just overall bad people--who one would assume set the trap--find poor injured you.

You don't have much on hand. Maybe you have a weapon, maybe you don't. But, regardless of how hard you fight, there are just more of them the there are of you.

Osomatsu

Oni

-He doesn't hate humans, but he doesn't actively like them either. He's more neutral about it.

-Like, he wouldn't go out of his way to help/save them, that's way too much work for him. But, he also wouldn't go out of his way to kill someone unless they really pissed him off.

-Doesn't really understand humans, but somewhat understand and takes a small liking to bits of their culture and activities.

-Actually fairly in with the times, but doesn't really try enough to be in with the times, y'know?

-Obviously takes part in gambling with the humans regardless of the time period.

-He finds that you're injured and probably not going to make it out of the situation alive.

-While at first he's slightly indifferent about your situation, he recognizes you from the village below. He probably asked for money and you gave it to him, or maybe you work at one of the place he frequents, but for whatever reason, he may be persuaded to help.

-You're already unconscious and he can't help but feel pity for you. Pretty nasty leg injury. Maybe he should help.

-And, so, he does!

-After attending to your Injuries best he could, he decided to wait for you to come around. He'll admit, the patch up was sloppy, but it did the job, that's what matters.

-Eventually, you'd come around and find yourself face to face with the devil himself. Whether fearful or not, this would take some...adjusting.

-Compared to the known sterotype, he seems more lax and less...demonic.

-He finds you interesting. Somehow, that curiosity hadn't faded one moment since he's found you. Expect some questions personal, even perverted, or not.

-Dislikes when you get up or move around without his help. Though, more chill and just lightly scold you for straining yourself.

-Then, soon, one day you're all better. But, he doesn't want you to leave. How strange. He didn't think he'd be this...attached to someone like yourself. Not like that, bit it's weird to him.

-He had seen humans come and go--grow old and die. He's never been this comfortable with humans before he'd met you. He doesn't want you to leave. Will you ever see each other again after you part ways? Probably not, but he doesn't want to take that chance.

-So, you can't leave just yet.

Karamatsu

Shikigami

-Karamatsu loves humans/humanity the MOST out of this list. He often tries to be 'in' with the culture no matter the time period. He goes through many "phases" trying to be what the humans deem is cool in certain points of time.

-He loves to collect and tell stories that humans tell, though can sometimes stretch it a little for a more theatrical performance.

-He often tries to interact with people and walk amongst them. But, it usually never goes well.

-His brothers often tease, but he's restless in his search for a human Karamatsu boy or girl.

-When he found you in the snow plains, a red staining the snow around you, he didn't hesitate to check out the scene.

-A group of people trying to take advantage of a defenseless Karamatsu boy or girl !! Of course he felt the need to intervene and help the poor soul.

-He manages to scare off the bandits, but by the time he gets to you, you're already out. It pains him to see such a beauty in so much pain.

-Karamatsu, without so much as a second thought, takes you somewhere much safer. A nice small cabin deep in the woods. That's where he nurses injured you back to health.

-At first, you're probably shocked, but maybe around the first week mark, you'll probably get used to it. If not, don't worry! You'll have a long time to adjust!

-He's very curious about you and the humans you surround yourself with. His knowledge of the culture is a little outdated, not by much. Still, it's nothing compared to understanding the real thing.

-He doesn't like when you try to get up. You need to recover. You'll probably hurt yourself! Don't worry, he'll do it for you!

-Honestly, just wants you to be safe. By far, you're the first human that he's ever gotten this close with--both metaphorically and literally.

-He just wants to keep you safe. There are monsters lurking both human and spirit. Surely you know.

-Karamatsu had already taken a liking to you since he met you, but over the time of your recovery, he's grown too attached to let you leave.

-You'll stay, won't you?

Choromatsu

Tengu

-Also kind of neutral, more lenient towards pretty humans. It's so painfully obvious, his brothers tease him about it, though he's incredibly indenile.

-While claiming he doesn't have an obvious leniency towards pretty humans, it is obvious to literally anyone. Including the mortals down in the villages.

-Choromatsu won't go out of his way to harm anyone he considers "pretty or cute", though his idea of pretty and cute is complicated! Not always about looks, but mannerisms, actions, etc.

-He spots you before. And, he folds at first glance. It's not difficult to be encouraged to help you. You're practically a sparkly treasure to be collected and safe guarded.

-But, then he watches as you're injured self begins to get surrounded by the group that seemed to have caught you.

-Choromats had quickly intervened, chasing off the group (probably off a cliff), before returning back to you.

-Laying in the snow, you were out cold and didn't seem to respond at all, your pulse being the only thing noting you're still alive.

-Won't deny, he was absolutely panicking at first, figuring out how to clean your injures properly.

-Eventually, he does somewhat figure it out, and once you're stable he takes that time to breathe. And, well, admire your sleeping form. Not in a creepy way, but just studying you.I

-When you do come around, he's trying and failing with his words for a moment.

-Takes care of you, and while he does often nag you, he's more so worried about how your recovery is coming along.

-Tends to kinda hover, keeping a close eye on you, telling you to lay down and get rest and that he can do whatever it was you wanted to get up to do.

-Will refuse to let you get up and do anything for yourself. Why have you do it when you have him? A literal waste, really!

-Even if he sees your coming around and the healing process is moving quicker than he wants, he still refuses to let you do anything.

-Now comes the time when you're ready to leave the nest. Pun.

-He obviously begs you to stay, much without words. Choromatsu doesn't want you to go now that he's oh so attached! You can't go. You won't leave, will you?

-Please don't leave .

Ichimatsu

Kitsune

-Ichimatsu, opposed to Karamatsu, probobly hates humans/humanity the most on this list.

-Often times, he was the cause of some humans lost or missing on the mountain. Though, he wouldn't go out of his way for anything unless angered or maybe he just felt malicious that day.

-Humans find him captivating despite his dislike for them. Even so, he won't admit it, but they do fascinate him on some occasions.

-He spots the bandits first, then you after he gets rid of those loud bandits that woke him from his nap. He considers getting rid of you, too.

-But, you're asleep. And, it seemed your leg is caught pretty badly. It doesn't seem like you'll be able to move far with your leg like that. You'll probably be dead in a matter of hours. He doesn't have to do a thing.

-No, he doesn't feel bad for you. Not one bit. You're just an unlucky human caught by the foot like some poor rabbit.

-Ichimatsu does somehow end up carrying you off elsewhere--somewhere more comfortable. Don't be mistaken, he may be helping you, but no further than this.

-Once you're safe in the small cabin, he does the bare minimum with your injuries and once your stable, he leaves.

-You'll wake up alone, and it'll probably be like that for maybe a few hours before you're visited by a stranger.

-Ichimatsu takes care you you between visits, though he doesn't speak to you often. You're probably scared being so close to a monster like himself.

-But, you grow comfortable in his presence and attempt to talk to him. Something he finds real odd, but almost sweet. He still doesn't talk to you though, but he almost wants to.

-His visits grow more frequent, and he even began bringing you gifts. Like dead animals. But, it's the thought that counts!

-He ends up more attached than he would've liked to admit. And, unlike some people on the list, he's more blunt that you remain here with him.

-You'll be stuck with a monster trash like him, but at least here he can keep you warm and fed.

-You're staying put. There's no reason for you to leave anyways.

Jyushimatsu

Inugami

-Honestly, it doesn't matter to Jyushimatsu. He's fairly friendly to any and all who walk in his path. Many run, but it doesn't bother him much.

-Though, if he had to love one thing about them, he absolutely loves their sports and activities. Often goes with Karamatsu to go take part in "human activities".

-But as one can assume, they get comically outed.

-Is fairly kind opposed to some on this list. He won't go out of his way to harm humans regardless how he feels, though when it comes to helping it's a 50/50. Normally at least tries. But, if he doesn't like you, he'll probably just watch with a lead stare.

-When he found you in the snow, you were surrounded, and he had accidentally hit one of the people with a baseball. Completely by accident. But, kinda thinks maybe the accident wasn't that much of an accident.

-Ends up completely making a fool of the group when leading them away. But, he quickly returns to where you had been laying.

-Similar to Choromatsu, he panics at first and is so unsure about how to go about this situation. Obviously he doesn't want to make it worse, but he really doesn't want you to die.

-He carries you off to the small cabin to tend to your wounds. It's sloppy patch-job, but it's alright.

-Watches you while you sleep. Pokes you now and again. When you don't move for too long Jyushimatsu does tend to panic a little but settles when you finally take in that breath of air.

-When you do wake up, he's happy you're up and not dead. Sure, he may not feel too bad if you died, but only because he didn't have a close enough connection to care, but that wouldn't mean he wouldn't care.

-Jyushimatsu tries to stay the entire time your recovering. While he does hover a little, he's more considerate of your space.

-Does whatever he can to make you laugh. Whether it's acting out a skit, telling jokes or just being goofy.

-Doesn't care if it makes him look dumb. As long as he at least gets a smile out of you it doesn't matter.

-Gets way too attached way to quick. And, when you're all better, he gets a little (lying) clingy.

-Whines and may even howl like a kicked puppy. Might even do tricks if it gets you to stay.

-Don't leave yet!!

Todomatsu

Baku-Danuki

-Todomatsu doesn't hate them, but he doesn't care for them either, similar to Osomatsu. However, he's more in with their culture, more so than Karamatsu. Only because he thinks it's cute.

-Prefers some time period clothing to others and can tend to stand out, but language is definitely up to date.

-He views humans/humanity as beneath him, or simply to play into his enjoyment. He has no issues getting rid of anyone that doesn't gives him what he wants out of an interaction. Absolutely stone cold.

-He spots a few humans gathering around, and grows curious as to what grabbed their attention.

-Their wares seem to interest him. Then, there's you. After disposing of the others, he's left with unconscious you. What to do with you.

-Well, you could be useful. You'll pretty much be indebted to him for saving you. Or, at least you should be.

-So, he drags you away from the scene, tenderly caring to your wounds, putting on a sweet and kind persona.

-When you awaken, he greets you gently, coming forward as the one who saved your life after he found you on the brink of death in the snow.

-Skeptical or not, you come around and thank him however you would. Already gaining praise from you. Admittedly, the praise feels...nicer than it should. He brushes it off, what else can he get from you.

-He slyly asks you questions, gaining more information of your personal life over a week, maybe two.

-You get up to do something, and being the ever so kind savior, he takes you back to bed, doing the task for you instead. Not that he wants to. He's playing the long game with your little life.

-But, you thank him, telling him just how kind he is. Todomatsu can't help but grow addicted to that feeling. Being appreciated and validated.

-Slowly, but surely, he begins to grow a bit (a lot) attached. He didn't think it was possible. But, soon he doesn't see you as just a human, but as you.

-Once you get better, he does contemplate poisoning you to get you to stay. Not much to kill you, but enough so he could still take care of you.

-Todomatsu doesn't do it. But, he has heavily considered it.

-He will try his damndest to get you to remain in this little cabin with him.

-You can't go yet! You need him!

So funny that Osomatsu and Karamatsu are my favorites in general, but Todomatsu is my favorite to write for, and Jyushimatsu is my favorite to draw. What.

I still dislike Choromatsu. There is no reason for it.

Anyway if you're here, try Arizona RX Energy Herbal Tonic Tea. It's so damn good. That's all lmao !!

[just-wrting]

Not Leaving Again

Title: Not Leaving Again

Pairing: Portgas D Ace x Reader

Warnings: This deals with grief, depression, death, and whether or not one wants to die. It’s an angsty piece with a slightly happy ending.

Word Count: 1,519

Master List

Summary: After what feels like too long, you get to see your boyfriend. The circumstances could be better and he’s devastated knowing this.

A/N: This is more of a personal piece than it is anything else. I wanted to write angst and this was the idea. If you can’t handle the topics, do not read this. I’d rather people be happy than read my sad stuff.

It doesn't hurt. Well, it doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

The hug he has you in is crushing the air from your lungs, but you don't care. You've probably missed him more than he's missed you, though you have no proof for that. You've been super busy, but even so, you haven't had a reason to visit.

"You shouldn't be here," he stresses as he cups your face.

You raise an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you didn't want to see me, Ace."

He frowns. "You know that's not it. I missed you so much, I just shouldn't be seeing you like this."

You pull on your bloodstained clothes. "To be fair it's not my blood."

"That's what you said last time."

You lean in and give him a kiss. "Are you going to stand there looking sad, or are we going to catch up?"

Reluctantly, he laces your fingers with his. You know why he's sad. There's just nothing you can do about it. Sure, you feel terrible that he's sad because of you, but the worst part has yet to come. For a moment, you want to pretend it's not happening.

"So what have you been doing since I saw you?" Ace asks. "Sorry I haven't been paying much attention."

You give his hand a squeeze. "It's okay, I know you've got others you like to focus on too. I've been super busy. Being a pirate isn't easy, but I don't think I'll ever regret it. I wouldn't have met you otherwise."

Ace gives a weak smile. "You couldn't beat me in a fight, but you sure looked cute trying."

"The goal was never to beat you, it was to just not die. I did a pretty good job in that fight, if I do say so myself."

His smile fades. "Yeah, you were still able to hold your own."

"You're still ranked as my hardest fight. Though I did just recently face one of those guys from the Worst Generation. Gave me a wicked scar, but I managed to get out of it."

He stops walking. "Show me."

You give a slight frown. "Nothing can be done about it now, so I don't know why you want to see it."

"Please," he begs. "I don't want to see you get hurt ever again."

You oblige, peeling off the stiff clothes. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Ace has seen you naked and the beach is empty. That doesn't stop you from being a bit nervous. You know it's because you've got more scars compared to last time, and some of them the injuries he gave you left marks.

“I’m glad it wasn’t Luffy, I don’t think I’d have the heart to fight him knowing he’s your brother. That and he’s making quite the name for himself now.”

“Yeah, he’s doing great.”

Ace gently traces each new scar, like he's memorized the placement of all the old ones. Even though his touch is surprisingly warm, you still shiver. It's not like you don't like his touch, you're just a bit surprised.

"See? Even the one from the last time you saw me has healed nicely. You can barely see it."

He pauses as he traces one on your abdomen. "Where's the one from this time?"

You can't meet his eyes. Avoiding the question will just upset him, you're just not ready to talk about it.

"Ace," you pause. "I don't want to talk about it just yet. We have plenty of time."

"There shouldn't be any time. I don't like this."

There's tears in his eyes, and your heart breaks a little. It's not good hiding it from him, you just don't want to hurt him more than he already is. It's unavoidable.

"I promise I'll tell you in just a bit, but can't we just for a moment pretend that everything is fine and the way we want it to be?"

Now you're cradling his face, trying to hold back your tears. Of course he wants to know, it's the first thing he asked you last time too. It gets harder and harder to leave him every time you're together again.

"It won't ever be that way. You know this, it just hurts when you drag it out," Ace cries. "Please stop doing this."

What little resolve you have cracks. Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you grab Ace's hand. With shaking hands, you bring it up to your forehead, brushing stray hairs away from it.

It doesn't hurt. Not anymore. Not as he traces the wound with shaking fingers, dried blood crumbling from your head.

"There won't be a next a time Ace. I can't leave here. I can't leave you."

You place a hand on his chest, tracing the lines left by his death. You haven't been the same since he died. You've been worse since your first near death experience.

You woke up on a white sandy beach, looking up at Ace. He was sobbing over you, cradling your head to his chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't be seeing him, you felt at peace. Knowing what was waiting for you was a relief, so every single battle was fought relentlessly.

Now you'd never gone looking for a way to see him. You'd only ended up here three times before this. Even on those days you woke up and just missed him, you never tried to see him.

"How did it happen?" He pulls you closer. "What happened?"

“I just wasn’t strong enough this time. I got ambushed and had a choice, either join them or die.”

For a spirit, he’s so warm. You were shocked the first time you woke up here. Ace was solid, warm, and felt so real. It felt like a dream. Once you found out the truth, you didn’t know how to feel. It was such a struggle knowing that all it took to meet him was to follow him.

“I just-” he tries to say.

You sit down and pull him to you. He can’t stop crying, so you lean him into you and pat his head. It doesn’t bother you that he’s so emotional over it, better him than you. After all, it doesn’t quite feel real yet. When it does, you’ll have to depend on him.

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s not an easy thing to deal with. I cried for hours when I found out you died.”

Ace just cries. You hold him the whole time, not stopping your gentle rubbing on his back. It’s difficult to recall a time besides Ace’s death that you were inconsolable. You never really knew your parents so it wouldn’t be when they died.

After what must be hours, he stops crying, his body now shaking with hiccups. You haven’t stopped telling him that’s everything is okay, even if it might not be.

“I just didn’t want you to die. I missed you, but it hurts to see you knowing that you’re dead,” he mumbles into your chest. “How am I supposed to deal with that? What am I supposed to feel when I look at you?”

“Well every time I’ve gotten to see you, I think about how lucky I am to be able to see you and know you. It’s not all bad, at least we’re together even when we’re dead.”

You fall backwards into the sand, pulling him down with you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you stretch out in the sun. You’d like to make the most out of the situation.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

You sigh. “But it was inevitable. We were pirates, it was bound to happen. Maybe we’ll get a second chance and find each other again in a happier place.”

“You think so?”

“I hope so. I’ll do my best to find you in every life, Ace. You managed to find me here, so why wouldn’t we be able to find each other again?”

Ace doesn’t say anything, just buries his head further into your chest. You can tell he’s tired, but you don’t know if it’s even possible to sleep. Instead of asking, you just start talking.

“I managed to see a lot of cool things though. My crew hated that insisted on stopping at every single restaurant and buy the most expensive meat on the menu, but some of it was amazing! If I could’ve brought it with me, I would’ve. There was an amazing savory and spicy steak that paired really well with a sweet wine and the whole time I kept thinking of you.”

You have no idea if he’s even paying attention to your yapping, but you don’t mind. There was so much that you did because you wanted to do things he liked, so you might as well tell him while you’ve got the time.

Your mouth doesn’t get dry, and the sun doesn’t set. The only sounds you can hear are the gentle crashing of the waves and your own voice. As weird as it sounds, you think you finally feel at peace.

[popchoc]

Hi, me again! Jules/Mika please - 49 You look happy 😊

So, this turned out a little longer than expected. Guess catching up needs a few lines. 😄 Anyway, I hope you like it!

Jules & Mika - You Look Happy

She watches them from the bar, needing a moment before taking the next step: actually walking up to them. They're all there, playing darts together. Simone and Lucas are all over each other, telling her they'd made it this far. Jules and Kwan seem pretty tight, too; celebrating their lead after every round with hugs and laughter. She's not surprised. They've always been this close from becoming a thing - it was only a matter of waiting for the right time.

It's strange how normal it feels to see them again. Like she's never been away. Like nothing has really changed. The five of them hanging out like always.

Except it's not the five of them anymore. It's the four of them, and her.

It's that realization that makes her linger—for once glad that she's barely five feet tall and won't be easily noticed—and has her hesitate whether to get five beers or just one when the bartender asks for her order. She has to give it to him, he's got some endless patience when she keeps going over her options. One please... or... make it five... no wait, just one...

"Mika?!"

The familiar voice coming from behind her makes her heart skip a beat. She freezes for a second, but quickly pulls herself together and turns around, desperately hoping that she looks at least somewhat in control.

"Jules!"

"Oh my God!" her friend—or so she hopes—exclaims, her eyes wide in surprise, "You're back! You're... You're here!"

With an awkward shrug, Mika is about to confirm with a simple "Yup" when Jules already pulls her in for a short but tight embrace. She's hardly let go of her when she starts her barrage of questions. "How are you? When did you get here? Are you staying? Why didn't you call, or come see us?"

Quite overwhelmed, and not knowing where to start, Mika looks around her, hoping to find answers she suddenly can't remember. All she catches though is the bartender's wink, telling her he'll come back in a bit.

"I- I was about to come over," she says, speaking up at last. "I just thought I'd let you finish your game first."

Jules tilts her head, narrowing her eyes a little. "You were watching us?"

"Just for a moment," Mika confesses, pulling an apologetic face, "You, uh... you look happy."

The next seconds seem to occur in slow-motion, with Jules just staring at her, her smile slowly fading away. Her hard swallow before she answers her.

"I'm doing alright. Took me a while though."

Feeling shame creeping up on her, Mika fights the urge to look away. "Jules, I'm sorry..."

"I know." Jules manages to smile at her again, albeit weakly. Sad, almost. "I don't want you to be."

Mika shakes her head, not ready to accept Jules' kindness. "You've got all the reason, all the right to be mad at me."

"I was never mad," Jules answers, "Just..." She stops herself, then quietly mumbles beneath her breath, "Just heartbroken." She must have reckoned the loud music would cover her, but the subtle twitch in Mika's jaw tells her it didn't. She quickly clears her throat. "You had to go. Be with your family. Heal. I got that. I still do."

This time Mika just nods, accepting the understanding. Believing it even. After all, these words are coming from Jules. Honest and straightforward Jules. Would she think any other way, she wouldn't hesitate to tell her, too.

"So what brought you back?" Jules asks when Mika stays quiet.

The slight change of subject helps Mika to relax a little. "Bailey," she answers, an almost amused chuckle falling of her lips, "Turned out she was right. Took me a bit longer than a few weeks, or months even, but in the end, and very much against my own expectations, I did start to feel better. Do better. I'm not sure about the getting out stronger part. But yeah, after months and months of darkness, I could see some light again. A reason to move on."

Jules' eyes grow big again, showing a mixture of joy, care, hope and support. "You want to rejoin a surgical program?"

"No," Mika shakes her head, "I want to rejoin your surgical program. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I only want to, only can do this with you—"

"So what's it gonna be?" the bartender's voice cuts her off. "One beer, or five?!"

Without giving it any more thought, Mika turns towards him, raises her hand and gestures five. Worst case scenario she's got to do a lot of drinking tonight. Facing Jules again, she goes on unabated without noticing the effect the poor timed interruption left on her, "—with you guys."

"Y-Yeah, of course. We... we're here for you," Jules stammers, blinking rapidly as if in need to regain her posture. "All of us."

Mika nods again, though not looking as certain. Her gaze turns back to the group across the room.

"You're sure of that?" she asks doubtful, "You think they even wanna see me again? I let everyone down. Left without a word. While you were all there for me, supported me for weeks. If I were—"

"—if you were in our shoes, you'd be the first to understand. To still be here," Jules stops her. "These people love you. Endlessly. And even more when you bring them beer." Grinning, she nods toward the tray on the bar counter behind Mika, the five drinks waiting to be shared.

Biting her lips, Mika takes a deep breath, eyes to the ceiling, before looking at Jules again. "Okay, let's say you're right," she says, "Can I have one more minute?"

"You can have two," Jules smiles reassuring and compassionately. She crosses her arms. "So... you actually got back in? Since you're here and all?"

"I did," Mika answers, gratefully accepting the distraction Jules is offering her. "I'm ten months behind though, at least. Not sure if I can catch up with you. Which is alright, really. I'm already glad I got the chance to continue." She scrunches her nose. "I just regret teasing Skywalker about being his boss. Pretty sure that's gonna bite me in the ass at some point."

The second the burst of genuine laughter falls off Jules' lips, Mika knows it's the highlight of her night.

When Jules steps closer towards her and lightly rests her hand on Mika's shoulder, she also realizes that's not exactly a good thing; after all this time, the electricity between them is still fully there... while it obviously can't be.

As if by reflex, she tries to draw back, create some distance again, but she can't; the solid bar counter is still very much right behind her.

"I don't think you have to worry about him, as he will just be your classmate again," Jules grins, seemingly unaware, "Me, on the other hand..."

She laughs again. She really has to stop doing that.

Mika chuckles along, then swiftly turns to pick up the tray. Maybe being together like this, just the two of them, isn't the best idea?

As she starts to move towards the group, Jules—now free from the drinks she was supposed to get—follows in her trail. Despite the challenge of the quite heavy tray, Mika briefly looks over her shoulder. "So, you and Kwan, huh?"

Jules' immediate response comes with a snort. "What? No, what makes you think that?"

Mika stops in her tracks. "Because..." She falls quiet. "Because I'm an idiot," she thinks to herself, shaking her head. Turning around, her eyes find Jules' again.

"Listen, I do think I should see the others now. I- I want to, really. But do you think, one of these days, you and I could, maybe, like...?"

Jules cocks her head, a playful smirk curving her lips. "Mika Yasuda, if you're asking me to go for a run with you, I swear to God, I will end you!"

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

let's do some prompts!

[mikodrawnnarratives]

Every now and then I start to think about how awful of a decision it was to kill off Winston. He was never really my favorite, despite the sad backstory, but it's just such a weird direction to cut him off like that in the books

I mean they got another martyr out of it but thinking back on it it's like "really? What was the point in having him grow?" I think the ending was trying to make him a symbol of healing, it is possible, but that would have worked with keeping him alive??

Cuz if he had STAYED alive it would have made it even more interesting if he continued to try and be good Despite his powers returning to him

If he STAYED alive then Nova would have for support. She could make up for her betrayal long-term and they could be friends again. Nova wouldn't be alone in being an ex-anarchist, in the spotlight with more eyes on her than ever before

But maybe Marissa Meyer knew if he stayed alive that would teach a lesson gatlon's not ready for? Like, maybe she didn't want to solve the potential of Gatlon associating certain superpowers w whether ur good or not? I don't even know if it's implied it'll go that way but ig it could be a reason

If he STAYED then it raises the question of how that'd impact broken clasp duo and whether Magpie would stay with Nova. I believe Maggie's "oh that annoying anarchist" attitude towards Winston post supernova is bc he's NOT ALIVE to challenge it, and she'd react differently otherwise, so it could bring conflict in the sense of choosing between

Long lost sister previously thought to be DEAD who's kind of really annoying and Nova has practically no relationship with yet aside from their negative interactions, her sister Isn't trying to do better Doesn't want to from the last time we saw her

OR

Ex-anarchist who Nova wants to make amends with, rock and familiarity as things change, friend, but still someone who hurt her sister, who now is dealing with the struggle of his powers again. He doesn't have the motivation anymore but HER SISTER isn't comfortable..

Could've been interesting, tho I do believe that even w living Winston, Nova would ultimately choose Maggie. It just wouldn't be easy and Nova would probably try to figure out any other option B4 that

And idk like, when I think of deaths in the final book I can justify a few of them. Some are literally idc enough to remember their names, some I wish the execution was better, I can justify Callum's (for now.) bc I'm so intrigued by how it'll have ripple effects on Maggie, but Winston? Idk about that.

Maybe it's an effect of me remembering Supernova more for Maggie than the plot that I can't see how Winston's will also have ripple effects (which is very likely my memory is SHIT we've established this) but I just don't see how him dying does anything he can't do while living? Aside from leaving Nova utterly alone minus Renegades

[thearcalian]

In what world is actually caring about the characters appropriate? THIS ONE.

I can't get mad at people vague posting about me in this fandom, that's fair enough as I've done it too. If I hadn't gone into a mutual's timeline I wouldn't even seen it. But I can certainly answer the points.

How is Jason's situation a "catharsis" when he's still completely screwed over?

How is it okay for Tara to still be a bad victim? She never got to grow past it in all these years or reboots. It's only a "catharsis" for Jason or "healing and growing" for Tara *if they are allowed to grow past it*. And neither one has. Marv Wolfman isn't a fan, he's one of the two writers (George Perez being the other) that put Tara in this situation. It's just as bad as rape culture and victim blaming *because it is part of that same culture and supports it*. Marv *put her there* and you want her to *stay there*. The question is not whether she has a traumatic past. As noted, it's not unique to her. What *is* unique to her, mostly, is that she and Jason *are not allowed to move past it.* They're still STUCK there. (Technically I guess you could include Raven too, as she falls down again whenever it's convenient for the writers. But at least SOMETIMES she's allowed out of it.)

And yes, I DO write fix it fanfic, thanks. And if that's "the most disrespectful thing ever" then you've never been disrespected in your life.

Tara Jason and Dick can't get behind you, when you're cheerfully enabling the abuse. I'm the one who wants to END her victimhood, and you DON'T. I'm the one who WANTS Tara and Dick and Jason to heal, and you want them to STAY MISERABLE. So don't ask who is better than what. Look in the mirror, and try again.

[eldritch-spouse]

Wife innocently asking Kalymir about all of his scars and touching them and fawning over him, seemingly oblivious to how hot n' bothered he's getting.

" YOU'RE STARING AGAIN, RUNT. "

Ah, he caught you. How can he blame you? Kalymir is quite something, physically speaking. It's hard not to notice him, not to stare at him. In such a vivid garnet coloration, it's hard not to focus on the gashes of blush rose that cross his figure, standing out like sore thumbs.

Kalymir doesn't hide them, in fact, he practically goes out of his way to display them, like they're the most beautiful part of his body. He seems to think other people's scars, whether from battle or simple "blemishes" of nature, are also attractive- It was very odd to see him constantly trace a slash across your arm from a soft training session.

Nevertheless, the King is kind of primal sometimes. In the sense that prolonged gazing agitates him severely. It's hard to tell if he enjoys it or not, but you know it definitely reads as a challenge, if the growl under his words is any indication.

" So I am. " You blink.

" IT'S GETTING ON MY FUCKING NERVES, SPEAK ALREADY. " He fumes.

It's clear you caught him in the middle of some sort of scheme, he only ever stands in front of his main (massive) fireplace with his arms behind his back when he's mulling over something. Kaly's already pissed from being interrupted, better not to test him further. But then again, you did come here to make sure he isn't spacing out in his own mind, in a positive feedback loop of fury...

" How did you get that one? " Walking to stand beside your demonlord, you point to his chest, specifically the large patch that crosses it diagonally.

Kalymir snorts, turning. " OH, SO YOU JUST CAME TO MAKE GOO-GOO EYES AT ME? "

You roll your eyes, but a lazy smile still graces your face. " I asked you a question. "

" I HEARD, DIPSHIT. "

Apparently, you've successfully brought him out of his thoughtful stupor, because the Icon grins wide, teeth ever flared, and squats in front of you.

" THIS ONE HERE? " He barks, and you nod silently. " IT'S MY FAVORITE. " And his biggest. You wouldn't be surprised if it was his favorite precisely for that reason. " I GOT IT THE DAY I BECAME KING OF WRATH. "

Eyebrows rise, you gawk openly, rising loud cackles out of him. " No shit-? "

" YEAH BITCH. " He leers, fetching one of your hands and putting it up against the gnarled flesh, just beneath the bone growths on his upper chest. You blush a little, though allow yourself to map it out. " FEEL IT. "

Kalymir flexes. Although you're entirely unaware of it, his tail wags increasingly faster behind him. " I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE IN THAT ARENA, YET I WALKED OUT AS THE BEST WRATH COULD OFFER! "

When he puts it like that, it really is a scar worth showing off. You'd wear it with pride too. It actually sits very well upon him.

"AND THIS- "

Your hand is forced to grope at the scarred flesh harder, every inch of tense muscle felt beneath his hot skin.

" IS MY TROPHY. YOU HEAR ME, PIPSQUEAK? "

" Y-Yeah. " Is his breathing faster? You suppose you'd get excited talking about such a cool conquest too. " That's so brutal! I bet it hurt like a motherfucker too, you're amazing. "

Kalymir beams, puffing out further before you, even going as far as to raise his arms in a perfect display pose so you can see the way the healed tissue stretches to accommodate movement. Your gleeful giggle has him beaming back, happy to show off.

" DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I AM. " He huffs, greedily allowing you to explore the length of said scar, relishing your little hands on him, your words of complete awe.

Kalymir licks at his teeth and groans, wondering how long it'll take before you stop babbling and notice the twitching tent in his loincloth.

[delicateartisantrash]

The thing i find most fascinating about your Soundwave is how you write him our fantastical Daddy yet with the similar canonical bpd-like loyalty to Megatron. He has emotions, personal thoughts, experiences, yet he *would* kill Butterfly if Megatron commanded. At least up until now.

i'm so tickled its coming across well!

one of my favorite things about Soundwave is his interesting gray-zone complexities: he's got truly incredible positive qualities like his work ethic, his loyalty, his bravery and willingness to do the hard work and tough decisions; dude has such righteous views of what justice means, yet let's himself get all twisted and warped up into thinking he's doing good when many times objectively speaking.... in the bigger picture, he's the bad guy.

i really, *really* like complicated characters. I think it's easy to remove emotional distress from a character who has to face conflicting choices; make it so they don't struggle with guilt or doubt or second guessing themselves even as they follow orders and Do The Thing. Not have the *question* things. i often see Soundwave depicted as "emotionless" when really, i have a difficult time seeing almost ANY of the Decepticons as anything but incredibly passionate-- enough to blind them to long term logic.

there's also a lot to be said for decisions that "pile up." Soundwave in LS is basically an example of someone who has been in a long term relationship that went sour a long time ago, but he's done So Much within that relationship, it's so familiar, he's put so much effort into it-- why would he even believe he could leave, or see a future without it? It's not just something he curls up with to sleep at night-- he's made his entire *life* and lifestyle, right alongside Megatron. Their war isn't just political; it's personal. Even if the Decepticons surrendered, that wouldn't improve their quality of life; they'd most likely become prisoners of war, lose autonomy, and all kinds of other justice-voiced punishments whether justly decided or not.

so why would they want to stop? Their only hope of a "better life" to many of their perspectives, involves continuing as they are.

there's a kind of hollowness that comes when accepting something you have loved and cherished and fought for for so long.... is no longer actually serving you in a healthy positive manner. It's difficult to let go, it's difficult to think you even *can.* especially in a situation like Soundwave is in-- he can't just wake up and go "oh this is bad. Let's fix it" and make everything better in one day. He's in the middle of a war, one that's been going on for so long, even if he decided he wanted to defect to the Autobots: why would they let him? He's too dangerous. Even if Optimus Prime let him, there's plenty of Autobots with a personal grudge or twelve that would *happily* fuck him over if not outright sabotage Soundwave, unwilling to believe he's genuine. They'd assume it's another Decepticon trick, and justly so, whether that was the case or not.

and that wouldn't even begin to touch upon the emotional grieving and wounding he'd endure, betraying people Soundwave genuinely loves and cares for. Both the ones still living, like Megatron-- and the lives lost along the way.

Changing your life when it's so steeped in what has so gradually over a long length of time, become something that's toxic rather than the wonderful thing it started out as-- that takes time, and Soundwave's idea of what life should be might not match other's views or beliefs or even their wants (like Megatron).

the purpose of my fics is, among other things... to show how much work and effort goes into the conscious choice to change, to *heal.* First Aoundwave has to even come to terms with and acknowledge that his life as he lives it now... isn't what he wants. He's delluded himself intot hinking "I just have to bear this discomfort for a little while longer, and once the war is over, we can fix things" -- but that's just it.

wars don't end and then the fixing begins. Fixing things *is* what ends the war. If it' not fixed, the war isn't over- and it'll keep sparking up the fihting again, and again, and again. How many times have we witnessed this in our own human history? The actions of random ass strangers generations ago, still affect blood feuds today because so many people don't want to Let Go and move on together, instead dragging forward the past and all its problems like they're present day issues... and in many cases, they are. *because whatever strife sparked the violence, is not fixed and healed yet, collectively*

i wanted Soundwave to be... complicated. A deep thinker. It' easy to overlook the silent type because surely, their lack of outwards expression and emotive obviousness means they're just chill right?

i can't tell you how many times i myself sat quietly and watched something happen in my own life while i just tried to process and struggle through how to even *feel* about it because there's rarely a clear answer. A best friend of mine turned sour and attacked my family; and at first, i was still loyal to that person. It wasn't some magic flip that turned off my feelings and sentiment and all the weight of past *good* memories; it took a lot for me to adapt, change, and heal. Y e a r s of it.

soundwave is on a similar journey, but unlike my own life experience, I want him to have the great fortune to be able to keep his family together moving forward, together. The end of my books- they'll be the end of the wars, and the beginning of a healthier future. One where mechs realize, autobot, Decepticon; these titles matter only in the created segregation of personal thought and perspective. They're all one family, even when you've got some real assholes in it.

[balanceoflightanddark]

What if this happened?

Azula and Zuko manage to capture the avatar right after Katara quickly healed him while still in Ba Sing Se. The gaang were forced to leave without Aang, altering the day of black sun plan into a rescue mission.

Until the end of "Day of black sun pt 2", Aang is stuck as Azula's prisoner. As the main character, Aang would still have the most screen time but it gets shared with Azula and he spends the most time with her.

What do you think will happen between them? What could "The Beach" episode look like with Aang in it?

Well, this is an interesting ask.

The first most definite thing I can say is whether or not Azula and Zuko know that Aang is alive. I would wager they would capture his body which might not necessarily be conscious to show that the Avatar is indeed dead. Naturally, this could lead to a nightmarish scenario like at the start of Book 3 where Aang wakes up on a Fire Nation ship, only for it to be under the control of the Fire Nation instead of being captured.

Course, I wouldn't imagine Aang's initial escape attempt being too successful given that he just recovered from being shot in the back. Azula and Zuko would still be able to hold him till he gets to the Fire Nation where Ozai...I doubt Aang is going to be kept in good condition since killing him would just cause the Avatar to reincarnate. Therefore, I could see Ozai keeping him in torturous conditions not unlike what Zhao put him through in Book 1. Alive, but unable to do anything. Might even give Azula the "honor" of watching him since Zuko has returned to become the Crown Prince.

But let's assume that Aang is able to try and make an escape attempt a few times. I mean let's face it, he's not exactly someone who's easy to keep down. I could see Azula wanting to keep his escape attempts under wraps so Ozai's wrath would not directed towards her. Now here's where things get interesting. She starts noticing that Aang is avoiding killing anyone, isn't going into the Avatar State, and overall isn't acting like what the Avatar is expected to act like by the Fire Nation (which we can get some interesting worldbuilding by seeing how they view the Avatar from their perspective).

If we go down this avenue of thought, Azula might assume that putting the Avatar in torturous conditions isn't working since he keeps trying to break out. What she might feel work better is if he was broken mentally so he simply wouldn't have the will to fight. To this end, she might give him better conditions that are less torturous, but she'll try to break him by passing stories about his friends dying or being captured or something. Make it clear that he can escape, but break his will to fight. Maybe have daily "chats" taunting him.

Now here's where things get interesting: Aang won't break. He knows Azula's lying to break him...but in the process, she inadvertently starts letting him know about her upbringing by divulging what her worldview is. Maybe even starts to feel a bit sorry for her than anything. I mean he did feel bad for Zuko even when the latter was trying to kill him, so it's completely in the realm of possibility. Which in turn befuddles Azula since everything she does to break him doesn't work, and she knows he's sympathizing with her.

Which leads to the Ember Island. This could be Azula's last chance at breaking Aang, showing how pathetic he is for sympathizing with a monster and not even attempting to escape when he has a chance. It backfires since Aang knows enough that Azula is NOT a monster, and tells her this. And the reason he doesn't want to escape is because he's afraid that Ozai's going to come after her for letting him escape (which isn't out of the question since Ozai is becoming more and more frustrated with Azula's lack of progress). As badly as he wants to escape, he doesn't want anyone else to suffer on his hands. Not even Azula.

Now here you can go a few routes. For me, Aang would eventually escape once he realizes that Azula won't budge. But he times it during a time where her back is turned, like the Day of the Black Sun so there's a reason for why her security is lax. Or he comes into contact with the rest of the Gaang and he escapes during the Black Sun Invasion so as to make it look like a rescue instead of incompetence on Azula's part. Either way, I do feel that Aang would advocate for mercy on behalf for Azula or at least make sure she doesn't rot someplace after Sozin's Comet. Azula would obviously assume that Aang abandoned her like everyone else, but Aang coming back and telling her the truth would give her a bit of a mental safety net and possibly lead to the road for recovery.

All in all, this was a good ask. You can do a lot with this, either go Azulaang, worldbuild for the Fire Nation, humanize Azula to Aang, maybe cause Aang to form a rift with Zuko or Iroh due to their differing opinions on Azula. You can do something with this given the ideas I just pointed out.

[good-soupmens]

Maybe this is just me being a christian in the good omens fandom, but a lot of people say Aziraphale's arc needs to end with him *entirely* dismantling his religious beliefs and stop following God, and I would disagree (I do have religious trauma, so hear me out 💀)

Yes, it was VERY necessary for him to learn that heaven didn't have humanity's best interest at heart. In fact, the archangels are incredibly selfish. Questioning their morals led him to stop armageddon with Crowley. But as the narrator of season one, God is somewhat mysterious, even cheeky ("a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time"). I don't think we're SUPPOSED to dislike her as a character, but we're meant to question whether heaven is really carrying out her plan.

I often see heaven as the equivalent of a corrupt church; the kind that scares you with hell, says they have power over the bible so you should listen to them, and asks you for donations when they'll probably just spend it on themselves. They're toxic.

Crowley is wise to want to distance himself as much as possible. But I can't say Aziraphale is wrong for wanting to fix it. Heaven existing at ALL isn't the problem, it's the way it's conducted. If they really cared about the earth, they could help people. Crowley saved a girl from killing herself, Aziraphale forgave Maggie's rent, Crowley helped Shakespeare get his plays off the ground, Aziraphale healed Anathema and fixed her bike. Both stopped hell from ending the earth (and heaven orchestrating it). Crowley saved things every time that he was sent to destroy them.

They're constantly doing little miracles, sometimes big ones, while still letting the earth run, where humans can make their own choices and decide what to believe. If heaven was anything like Crowley and Aziraphale, there wouldn't be a system in need of destroying.

I wrote more detailed meta on good omens God here (and my therory on the ineffable plan), but my point is to say that destroying Aziraphale's faith entirely is not the solution. He doubts that heaven is even doing God's work. The end goal for dealing with religious trauma isn't always letting go of your belief in God (that's okay if it is!) but many of us need to deconstruct toxic ideas taught by toxic churches. Some people wouldn't survive without their faith. And FAITH in God isn't the problem, people misrepresenting God in order to devalue, shame, and oppress others for personal gain is.

Given that she canonically exists in the good omens universe, that means that she created everything. She made Aziraphale, Crowley, the universe, the earth, everyone who went on to create anything else, and life itself. Every moment, every place, every feeling, every choice, and every experience was possible because it was created. She's the reason anything that in the history of time was able to happen at all, good or bad.

God may not tell anyone about her plan, but I have a feeling it's going to be the end result of the series, where Crowley and Aziraphale were a part of it (I could be kidding myself, but that's my theory)

The concept of the "sides" being heaven and hell doesn't work without everyone getting a real choice. Neither Crowley or Aziraphale truly belonged to their respective sides because they were morally against them. Just as heaven needs to be fixed, hell shouldn’t be run by *obligation* to do evil. The good omens book said that many demons just considered it their job ("Go up there and make some trouble")

Thinking back to Aziraphale's line, "But humans...get a choice" makes me think that THAT'S what will change.

It's not "this group is nice. go out and do good" and "this group is bad. go out and do evil", it'll be everyone making choices (whether they want to spread misery and destroy the earth, or truly help better the earth and show people the light in a flawed world). Heaven would have a real job of thwarting evil if they weren't the ones administering it, and maybe that's what Aziraphale will try to change.

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(End of essay personal rant!!)

This is for queer christians especially, I know people forget us. My religious trauma comes from homophobia. I have to remind myself daily that it's not a fault of God, but people. It's PEOPLE who harbor hate for what they don't understand, and many use religion to justify their wanting us not to exist. They fundamentally misunderstand the point of following christ, and others have to work to change that.

It may seem like the best solution is to object to christianity entirely, but I find genuine happiness in it despite the bad eggs. I wouldn't be here if not for it, and it doesn't take brainwashing and manipulation for me to be a follower. I want to be. That's the reason I say any of this; for good omens to end on a positive note with God would mean a lot to queer christians. We're often caught between christians that hate gay people and gay people that hate christians, and it's hard for us to accept both parts of ourselves. Good omens helps me love both :) and thats why I relate to Aziraphale as a character

Also. queer christians and non-christian queer people with religious trauma, you're all so valid and cool, I love you <3