#not really proud of the armor but i tried...

[nokk0]

Heeeeeeeey!! U know?? Valfrey need a bit of help in the poll!! Come on! Vote for Valfrey!!! >:3

The samurai, reaper, poet... The Dark-Winged Disaster...

VALFREY!!

Vote 4 Valfrey >:3

@gethoce

@kirbyoctournament

[mythtiide]

*madwoman voice* guys what if an adlr unit and a fklr unit cuddled sweetly 🍎

[gammaraydeath]

positively ITCHING to finish this damn drawing but it's more technical than i'm used to doing which is on one hand good practice but on the other i'm having a really hard time sitting down and just doing it. i keep getting distracted. i think i'm yearning for the part where i'm done with it and not enjoying the process very much :'T

[sludgeguzzler]

everyone in my circle is into ultrakill right now and its so funny. we get in call every other day to play ultrakill together and watch eachother play ultrakill and talk about ultrakill and then we move on to do something else that isnt playing the game but is still about ultrakill. and everytime we do this we start at 6pm and end at 5am. and its always a great time. we played it on multiplayer. we watched eachother p rank levels. we built the layers on the sims 4. we looked up images and looked at them together. this is so so fun its the most fun ive ever had

[lejay-the-impossible]

Well guess what I'm a shonen guy now. Just started Fullmetal Alchemist and I'm REALLY enjoying it so far! I feel like it might turn into an obsession in the future... But we'll see:) Now have this illustration of Edward that I'm kinda proud of. Tried some new things in the rendering style and I think it turned out pretty good. Gonna do Alphonse later when I figure out how to draw that goddamn armor

Also if you've been there for my Treasure Planet era you know that I have a thing for metal prosthetics

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s child

Tony Stark x child!reader

warnings: alcohol ment,

a/n: so i just really think that the concept of tony having the party kid as opposed to nerdy avenger kid would be a really cool idea to explore teehee. most of this does actually take place pre-avengers tho!!

prompt:

you we’re quite the exhausting kid

“is this really how it felt to raise me?” -tony

many of nights he’d find your bed empty, you’d snuck out to go have your fun as teenagers do

“yeah, boss, i imagine it was” -happy

you always showed back up in one piece (like him) and besides a little slap on the wrist you didn’t get much discipline

actually, it usually went like:

“so, where did you go off to last night?” -tony

“a party” -you

“really? didn’t want to loop me in before you snuck out…again?”

“last time i told you about a party you showed up!”

“uh—yeah, but it’s not like i went all dad on you and dragged you away or anything”

“yeah, you joined the party and offered to buy teenagers more booze”

“hey, they all loved you after that! and they couldn’t get enough of my classic dance moves” -tony, jokingly doing the sprinkler with one arm “but seriously, let me know next time”

“we’ll see about that” -you

^the above conversion went about the same every time

sometimes for entertainment purposes you’d try a little harder, throw a few pillows under the covers to make it look like you were still home to put a smile on tony’s face

“aw, y/n reminds me so much of me” -tony

tony was still partying at this point so you’d flip the script on him from time to time

“you were out late” -you

“what are you, a cop? leave me alone. actually, can you get me some aspirin and water?” -tony

“sure, one or two” -you

“make it three” -tony

he would nurse your occasional hangovers (what a great dad!)

okay, he didn’t always know when you were gone. he was busy a lot of the time with his own business and extracurriculars so you guys did just kinda do your own thing for certain stretches of time

honestly you could be a bit of a klepto in the best of ways

but only to tony and only for fun

“oh, great, where’s my car?” -tony

“which one?” -pepper

“the black one!” -tony

“be more specific” -pepper

“the only one missing from my garage!” -tony

“yeah, i know, just wanted to give you some more time to think about it” -pepper

“i changed the code on the lockbox like, five times this week. did they hotwire it?” -tony

“we are talking about your kid, right? pretty sure they just hacked it” -pepper

“i am…so proud” -tony

you MAY have gotten a few close calls with authorities, but nothing tony couldn’t handle

and up until tony’s accident, the phrase “you’re going to give me a heart attack” was silly and endearing

“you might actually give me a heart attack, y/n, give a guy some warning or just say please for god’s sake” -tony, now comes with an arc reactor in his chest

“sorry” -you

“what—huh—didn’t hear ya, wanna say that a little louder?” -tony, very sarcastically

i tell ya when he got that armor u couldn’t tell if u were gonna flip out at him or invite him to a party

or steal it for…you didn’t even know what

but tony was 3 steps ahead of you when all this came to be

and you weren’t very interested in weapons, still just parties and dumb fun for you

“dad, i dont wanna be a nerd, will you just let me go out?” -you

“come on! just help me in the lab a few hours, what’s it gonna hurt?” -tony

“my social status” -you

“might i remind you you’re a stark? i think you’ll live if you miss one party” -tony

“you’d be surprised” -you

“hey, i almost died! give your old man a break” -tony

once tony got involved with SHIELD and the avengers he got even busier really

and in came the parenting advice from fury, clint, nat, steve

“hey, i don’t see you raising a teenager, back off” -tony

*clint side eye*

steve once tried to give you a good talking to, but you reminded him a great bit of your father with your stubbornness

“you done? i dont think you should be giving out any parenting tips fresh off the ice” -you

tony was kind of proud of you for sticking to your guns

especially around such powerful people

but you had a knack for that and could do it to practically anyone

mostly because you felt like an invincible teenager since you were raised by tony, who also thought himself an invincible teenager at one point

u tried to tone down giving tony grief when he started having panic attacks

since u accidentally caused a few by pushing boundaries and staying out for several nights in a row

cuz as tony gained more enemies, he thought you’d be in more danger

which was true

“happy, you’re y/n’s personal bodyguard” -tony

“no!” -you

“uh, cool? any fun parties planned tonight? i’ll be the designated driver. god knows i’ve been tony’s too many times” -happy

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[akutasoda]

“diamond tiara crushed in two, my heaven crashes down for you”

synopsis - you are a royal, they aren't. would it be such a crime for them to be someone more than a companion of yours?

includes - argenti, aventurine, boothill, sunday, reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, i have no clue what im doing, wc - 2.8k

a/n: ngl this only came about cause my fav artist dropped a new single... something else was inspired by that which idk if i want to work on that onrle rrr

argenti ★↷

↪argenti was once the commander of the knights that protected the region. well, he still was but now most of his time was spent beside you. as your very own personal knight.

↪it was agreed very widely that argenti was by far the best knight in the kingdom. so it was inevitable that he ended up in such a trusted position - and it was also safe to say that your safety was pretty much always guaranteed with him around.

↪naturally, he still held his title as the commander but spent most of his days by your side so normally he would put others in charge in his absence. although in honesty, argenti never minded.

↪argenti enjoyed his job as a knight, he liked helping people out and defending the kingdom he was proud to be part of. a part of him enjoyed the serenity of spending his days with you.

↪most of it tailoring to him following you around as you attended meetings and the occasional trips to the town. and even argenti had a bit more freedom as you always let him do what he wanted but even willingly, argenti would happily spend time with you.

– – –

you walked idly through the corridors, you had nothing to do as of late. bored out of your mind. your only real idea was to head out to the town and see if they had anything to satisfy your boredom, although to do so you thought it may be best to find argenti first.

you knew where to find him however. if you were going out you wanted him to accompany you, not just as your guard but as a companion - you didn't really need a guard in your opinion. but you quickly found the knight in the training grounds.

he was very dedicated to his training. it was always intriguing to you when you did catch him in action - in training or in a real life scenario. so you couldn't exactly help but take a seat nearby and watch as he trained.

you weren't trying to be creepy but it was interesting, and rather entrancing, so you watched. although you should've expected argenti to notice your presence as soon as you sat down. he huffed as he stopped swinging his ornate spear, stabilizing himself, he stopped and turned to you with a smile.

“is there something you need your highness?” argenti slowly walked closer to you and quickly noticed the flushed expression on your face at being caught.

you tried stammering out a response but quickly gave up and broke eye contact looking at the ground. argenti let out a small laugh, “if there's something you require of me, please do let me know”

eventually you managed to piece together a coherent sentence and explained how you wanted to go visit the town for a bit. argenti agreed, like he would ever not agree, and excused himself for a moment to get ready and don his armor.

argenti always loved when he got to accompany you anywhere. your presence was such a joy for him and a selfish part of him enjoyed knowing that he spent the most time with him - argenti knew you enjoyed his presence as well which always made his heart soar.

but he was merely your personal knight. he should be glad to be granted such a title, but when you take him by the hand and lead him to wherever you wanted with that smile on your face, he could convince himself that for a fleeting moment, you two were something more.

aventurine ★↷

↪a diplomatic representative of the stoneheart group who spent their time negotiating and delivering messages between various kingdoms. a neutral group who maintained positive relationships with all kingdoms to survive.

↪aventurine was always responsible for being sent to your kingdom, and so he would always make an appearance when your council met to discuss. a part of you was curious if he'd ever drop his position among the stonehearts to become a permanent member of your council.

↪he always had very valuable insights that always seemed to work towards bettering your kingdom as a whole rather than helping the relationship between the kingdom and the stonehearts. he also spent a decent amount of time rilling up your actual council members.

↪although, nowadays you noticed how he made more frequent visits to your kingdom, and specifically you. aventurine would occasionally come and find you just to drag you away from your duties and hang out - something you never actually minded, even if you should've..

– – –

aventurine walked through the lone halls of your residence, he found it almost laughable how easily the guards let him in, how much they trusted him. he could easily walk in with the wrong intentions and dismantle your kingdom from the inside out but you both knew he wouldn't. which was why he was here now.

bursting through your room's doors, you shot up from your paperwork before relaxing at the sight of the emissarie.

“hello to you too aventurine,” you briefly glanced over to your calendar “what are you doing here? seeing as we have no meetings…”

aventurine smiled as he sat himself on the corner of your desk “do i have to have a reason to see you?” he knew he didn't, he knew you'd always welcome his presence at any time.

“you know you don't want to be stuck here doing..” he looked at what was laid across your desk, making a vague shrugging motion “whatever that is, take a break! we can walk around for a bit!”

you knew you shouldn't listen to him, that he was a bad influence on you. but one look at your desk was enough to convince you that aventurine was right. you'd have even more work to do when you got back but who was going to tell you off? aventurine was definitely one of your best “advisors”.

he smiled when he watched you stand up and he followed suit, already talking about all the things that had happened since he last saw you (which was barely two days) and asking you about what you wanted to do.

suddenly your boring day filled with paperwork was actually going to be exciting, spent with someone you liked as more than one of your emissaries.

boothill ★↷

↪apart of a group of mercenaries known as the galaxy rangers. they take up whatever contract they agree with and pay the most of course. the “galaxy ranger” name is simply a convenient way of finding the best mercenaries in the regions - whether or not someone can get one to work for them is a different story.

↪boothill was once hired by a rivaling kingdom to bring down yours, he didn't exactly agree with his contractor but they did have rather deep pockets. that hesitation of his was what you used to save your kingdom. paying boothill more than what he had previously been offered.

↪and what better way to ensure your kingdom's safety than to constantly ensure boothill worked as a mercenary for your kingdom by paying him. it was a simple solution in your eyes and boothill wasn't going to complain.

↪although as time went on, boothill was seen less as a mercenary and more as a companion - seeing as you spent quite a bit of your free time talking with him and listening to his takes from traveling all over.

– – –

“so tell me again why i’m accompanying ya?” boothill poised as he watched you eye up some shop window displays

you hummed “because i gave argenti the day off for his hard work” turning to face him you continued, “and your nice company”

nice company huh? boothill would've never considered himself to be nice company for anyone but he wasn't going to argue your word. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to drag him around the town when you were bored, always giving that same excuse or saying something along the lines of being blunt and just wanting to hang out.

boothill would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this time with you. it was always peaceful, a nice respite from his daily activities - which admittedly became more calm themselves ever since you began paying him to be loyal to your kingdom.

even if you were to stop paying him, he reckoned that he would still never go against your kingdom. there was something about you that was enchanting to the mercenary, no wonder you were royalty. he could spend ages thinking about you, he had no clue why however.

boothill had no idea why he felt this way about you. you were just another stupid royal who was too big for their boots. and yet, he stuck around. he indulged in your conversations and requests, he genuinely enjoyed being around you and-

“say, why don't we stop for lunch on the way back?” your voice broke his chain of thought and that smile of yours practically rendered him entranced

“sure, your choice, your highness” and he reveled in your brightening smile that was caused by him, the one that made his knees weak and he couldn't care less about how you grabbed his hand and practically dragged him away.

sunday ★↷

↪the oh so prestigious high priest of the land. the one in charge of all the churches and so he had a spot on the royal council. not only as the main representative of the churches but also as an advisor.

↪he was a form of spokesperson for the people who confided their issues with him and some of his ideas had helped the kingdom greatly, so he definitely deserved a seat among your council

↪sunday was very reliable. he would always show up to meetings and always ensured that services within the church were planned and carried out to the nest they could be. a man devoted to fulfilling his role. although with how long you'd known him, he had a few flaws.

↪namely his “people problem”. not that he despised anyone but at times he could be quite uptight and rather condescending - namely when discussing with your other advisors which made for quite the trouble occasionally.

↪but you valued his advice and so he kept his position. although you also highly valued his companionship, something he would deny of but secretly indulge in your favoritism of him - like a bird preening in front of a mirror.

– – –

service had finished mere moments ago. sunday sighed and closed up his book as he kept an eye on the last couple stragglers exiting the sermon.

so he couldn't exactly miss the line figure that walked down the aisle to his position. in honesty, even if he did miss it then sunday would know it was you, after all you had developed the rather neglectful habit of visiting him after his services - neglectful as you were obviously shrugging away duties to be here.

his face resumed his stern look that he usually held before he addressed you “your highness, you know you mustn't be here”

but you both knew that even if he sounded annoyed he wasn't. you knew that he enjoyed your clear favoritism to the priest but he cared too much about appearances and positions to let it shine through, in your opinion.

“i don't think i do” you responded, sunday quickly picked up on that playful tone of yours, he knew what he was in for “would you mind enlightening me priest?”

oh aeons how he hated that dumb smile of yours. that stupidly pretty smile that made his heart skip a few beats. no, he couldn't let you break his act down so quickly, that would be embarrassing for him. so he collected himself and answered

“considering i enlightened you yesterday, i have no need to repeat. or is your memory that bad? if so i feel a trip to your healer is necessary then?” when he heard you grumble, he knew he'd managed to save his facade.

this wasn't exactly the first, or even the last, time that you slinked away to spend time with him when he had nothing going on. but you were the monarch. you had duties to attend to and so despite his true wishes of wanting this time with you, he always urged you to go back to your duties.

“fine then” you huffed “i'll be seeing you tomorrow then”

turning on your heel, you began leaving with a stumped sunday who was wracking his brain for any idea of what you meant behind you. but he couldn't think, so he had to ask

“what's tomorrow?” sunday hadn't got anything planned with you tomorrow, yes he had other things but nothing that you should've been aware of

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, feigning shock and hurt, you gasped “don't tell me you forgot! the meeting tomorrow?”

sunday paused, “but that's the day after, no? we agreed so at the last meet”

as soon as that smile of yours widened, it all clicked together in his head “oh it is? my.. well i already have a cleared schedule for that time.. wouldn't want to waste it?”

turning around again you continued, “so ill be seeing you at noon then” before walking away once more

sunday stood in confusion for a moment and before realizing fully and blurting out “you-” but you were already out of earshot, also missing the smile that crept onto his face.

reca ★↷

↪an infamous playwright who recently had taken residence in your kingdom. his plays were known far and wide by everyone, highly praised and honored. people always eagerly awaited even a whisper of what his new creation was.

↪and so naturally, you had become a patron of his. always sponsoring his plays as you were quite the fan yourself. whenever you saw that he had a new play that was being performed, you immediately cleared your schedule for that time and got your ticket - they were always in high demand.

↪reca was faltered that royalty such as yourself was so deeply invested in his writings and he greatly appreciated the sponsorship, it enabled his plays to reach greater heights. and so it was only natural that he started pandering some of his plays to you.

↪more based around subjects that he learnt you loved, your favorite troupes, anything you deemed intriguing and so on. of course, they all came out as hit plays but he knew they were slightly more special than just his average play.

– – –

reca stood from the sideline, hidden behind a deep maroon curtain, as his latest play came to an end. he watched as the actors he so desperately searched for took a bow as gifts were showered upon them for his characters he created for them.

but nowadays, he cared less about audience validation and more about a specific person - yes he still valued the opinion of anyone that saw his plays as that's what kept him going mostly but this play was special. he spent ages driving himself into sleep deprivation and stress trying to perfect it.

all because he tailored it for you.

his number one, and favorite, patron. he'd seen you take your seat and eagerly awaited your critique for his piece. reca wouldn't mind if you didn't pick up on the hints that it was tailored towards you, just as long as you enjoyed it. and his question was soon answered.

reca's ears perked up when he heard your voice call out to him. you shouldn't be backstage, but nobody would stop you. a confident smirk graced his face when you immediately starting rambling about specifics of his play, what you liked the most, how well it flowed etc etc.

he took your praise in strides, even more so when you poised him a question.

“oh! mr reca, you must tell me how you got inspiration for the main character!” you seemed so happy and so rene's smirked widened

“well if you must know your highness, it was about a special patron of mine” reca watched as your face twisted into something akin to confusion as you tried to figure out what that meant.

he nearly laughed when your expression portrayed a more shocked and embarrassed tone, you tried stammering out a sentence “so what about their lover-”

“well a writer must take some creative liberty, no? and one's subconscious might influence those decisions” he held back a laugh as your face flushed.

“your a tease mr reca” you huffed. and he only smiled back as you too let a smile creep onto your face.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[coyote-with-a-keyboard]

concubine

a/n: I got multiple drafts, but I saw a twitter post about male concubines so. Idk I think imma dedicate this writing to @adrawinggnome cuz fantasy

minors dni

He was much too old to be your pretty little bed-warmer, Phillip fully knew that. You could have tossed him out any time you wanted and replaced him with a pretty boy from anywhere you desired. But he kept begging you to keep him, and so you did.

it was no secret to the courts or to the other concubines of your that phillip was your favorite by far, and he was very proud in showing the fact. He’d do about anything to keep his lavish spoiled life- and of course, to keep being around you. Every passing day he spent with you had made him more and more desperate for your love, your comfort, and so he did what he could to earn it. Did everything to be praised by you, for that was the best feeling in the world to him. A simple touch and a whispered word would have him chubbing up in his silken robes that you has treated him to years ago.

he was the one you sent letters to while away. He was the one who got to sleep in your lavish bed the most. He was the one to get to be fucked stupid every time you came home from war or bustling social events

and luckily for him tonight was one of said nights. The maids had gossiped and whispered about your arrival and your mood of pent up anger from the moment you stepped inside, by the time it reached phillip? He was scrambling to get himself ready, anticipating you trudging up the steps as he tried in a hurry to clean the wine stain off his robe, to try and look perfect for you, and to make your royal bed made; since he had slept in it for half the day because he had simply missed you too much

he was frantically scurrying around till he froze, hearing the door slam open as you collapsed onto your silken bed, your armor making a sickening crack against the bed frame. You seemed more exhausted than you ever had before. Phillip, being the perfect boy he was, straddled you softly and kissed you all over, leaving pretty little smudged marks of his lipstick- a lipstick you had bought him while at a market across the damn continent of course

he took off each piece of your armor while peppering your jaw and neck with kisses, letting you rest your sore muscles while he got you more comfortable. slowly but surely stripping you down to nothing and humming at the sigh of relief at his pretty lips mouthing at your half hard cock. He truly couldn’t get enough of you- your taste, your smell, your look. If he could choose, he’d die happily right in your arms; and what better way to show that then serving you like you deserve?

Phillip mouthed and kissed your tip until you were fully hard, before softly taking you all into his mouth, leaving a bright red ring around your base from his lipstick, his cheeks hollowed out and his throat spasming around your member- he could feel the tears start to dot his lashes, not that he minded.

he desperately grinded against the soft bed as he worked himself up and down, his lips stretched around your erection, teasing you with little licks and kisses on your tip every time he pulled off to catch himself from choking too badly, always wiping the slight drool and pre sliding across his jaw, smudging his lipstick.. a shame really. But at least he looked adorable under you, messy from his blonde hair to his now red cheeks from the soft tears that slid down his face

he whimpered and whined as you tugged his hair softly to rut into his throat, cumming in his silk robes when he felt you tense and paint his throat white, pulling himself off and panting, whining to go again because he ‘wasn’t ready’

he really was a brat, and one spoiled by you and you alone. And he loved you more then he cared to admit

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

HII

Can you please do hashira with s/o who defends them when someone speaks ill about them?

(HEYYYY ANON!! This took longer to make than expected but I hope ya enjoy this and have a wonderful day!!)

The Hashira’s S/O Defending them

(Characters Included- All the Hashira)

(Warning: Just fluff and a little swearing)

🦋Shinobu Kocho🦋

- She finds it really endearing that you defend her. Even though she tells you multiple times that she can fend for herself, she still finds it adorable that you care that much.

- She will definitely tease you a little afterwards, saying stuff like “Thanks for saving me, my knight and shining armor.” (and will giggle her ass off)

🐍Iguro Obanai🐍

- Usually ignores rude people, very rarely will he confront them. So when the both of you were making your way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces passed, and spending time together. You suddenly encountered a person being downright rude. Saying stuff like he needs to take off the mask or else. It took him by surprise when you got in front of him and started yelling at them.

- He quietly thanks you and takes you out to some food to help clear your head. Plus he wants to treat you as a way to express his gratitude.

🍡Mitsuri Kanroji🍡

- It’s not often that someone has a problem with Mitsuri, since she’s always kind, caring, and just a lovable person in general. Although one day someone had an issue with how bubbly she was. They were also nit-picking every single thing she was doing very loudly to one of their friends. Then finally you had enough and told them off.

- Mitsuri stood there in amazement at your bravery to stand up for others. Then she panicked and tried to tell you that it was okay so that you’d stop making a scene.

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- He doesn’t let other people’s hurtful words bother him because he assumes that they just had a bad day or are going through a hard time so he just moves on with his day. When he noticed your demeanor suddenly changed he asked what was wrong. He assures you that it’s no big deal, but when the person keeps on going on and on you just had to say something.

- When you were walking over to them he tried to stop and reassure you that everything was okay. Although even though it didn’t work, he’s still appreciative of your spirit.

🔊Tengen Uzui🔊

- If Uzui encounters someone being disrespectful to him he usually just shoos them off or belittles them, unless the person is being rude to you, Makio, Suma, and Hina. Then he gets a little more riled up.

- If you ever go off on someone he’ll just stand back and watch the show. Afterwards he’ll be like “That’s right, tell ‘em what’s up.” in a joking way.

☁️Muichiro Tokito☁️

- It surprised him at first when you defended him, he had no idea how to react so he just stood there (like this: 🧍🏻)

- Whenever you come back to him he’ll say “Next time don’t waste your time on those scum, just knock them on the head.” His bluntness earned a laugh outta you.

🌪️Sanemi Shinazugawa🌪️

- When he heard someone talking shit, he turned towards their direction and was ready to say something. But he was cut off abruptly by you storming to them and letting them have it. He was shocked but kinda proud at the same time.

- After you’re finished, he says that he can defend himself and that you should save that energy for something else.

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- Usually if someone talks shit about him he’ll just ignore it, he has better things to worry about after all. He was bewildered when he overheard you defending him. You taking the time out of your day to defend him made him feel warm inside.

- He will make some food and give it to you as a thanks for having his back.

🪨Gyomei Himejima🪨

- Was really surprised, he certainly didn’t expect it. He calmly tells you that there will always be people in the world saying ill things about others, and to not get yourself all worked up over that.

- After the minor lecture he’ll pat your head and tell you that he’s very grateful for you defending him.

Masterlist

[chainmail-butch]

i was talking to a friend who's a trans woman about this. she used to be really weird about butch trans women, but ended up being butch herself. she told me she was adverse to it because "it was like watching someone leave their house completely naked. you feel maybe a little embarrassed for them but you're mostly scared for how other people are going to treat them too. [she] thought "well, [she'd] be embarrassed doing the same and maybe they were having a hard time passing. but then finding out they're doing it on purpose, [she] thought that they were making a joke of being trans, like they were enforcing the stereotype of just saying you were a woman despite not making any effort to look like one. [she] was confused as to why anyone would do that, especially when she'd been having a hard time being treated well even though she did everything to make herself like a cis girl." she hated having to put in so much effort into looking feminine but did it because she was sure that's just what you had to do. obviously, probably regardless of how she looked, she was going to be treated like shit on the principal of being trans and after actually talking to butches and thinking about it more, she decided to just dress how she felt comfortable and still be proud of being a woman.

That's very interesting to hear. That is the consistent impression I've gotten from well meaning trans women.

I had to wrestle with the whole, "declaring myself a woman without making the effort," thing. When I first transitioned I put on dresses, tried on makeup, and got cute jackets. None of it felt right. I knew, entirely, that I was a woman. But doing all of the things women were supposed to be doing made me feel even worse than when I had lived as a man, which is saying something.

I eventually figured out that there is plenty of effort to being a butch woman. There are still styles, there are still pieces of gendered clothing, there are still gendered actions, they're just hidden in plain sight. They're all the things I wanted to do and all the ways that I wanted to be perceived that I couldn't understand until someone (Leslie Feinberg) held a mirror to my face (SBB) and said Butch. Then it all clicked.

I've been doing HRT for three full years now. I've been socially transitioned for three full years now. It is work. It is a challenge. It is walking out of the house with nothing but your soul and what you choose to armor it with. For some women the armor is a dress and a full face of makeup. For me its leather and boots.

I love my sisters deeply. I love women deeply. I love womanhood deeply. But my womanhood is also deliberately not womanhood. My selfish desire is a world where I can be exactly who I am without having to justify it to every woman, trans or cis, that crosses my path. But that's not gonna happen any time soon.

As so many butches, cis and trans, have said, It is a difficult road to walk and I have no choice but to walk it.

[hanafubukki]

I binged your Lilia with a baby daughter and I couldn't get enough. Can you imagine if General Lilia gets yeeted into that timeline and he finds out that not only did his future self marry a human but also actually have a child with her. If current timeline Half Faces are already kinda rare so imagine from his time where he's at war with them. Also how Lilia's little girl interacting with her Papa (who isn't really her Papa but also isn't lmao) Also, MC who he is married to. I just wanna see his Tsun Tsun ass be flustered but confused lmao. Ok, thank youuu!

[referring to these posts: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷🌻

I'm happy that you enjoyed them anonie! I had a blast writing them. 🌟💚

Ohhhh Anonie you guys know how to hit my weak spots 😂💕���� Babies, General Lilia, time travel shenanigans oh my 🤣💚 You and me 🤝 wants to see General Lilia tsun tsun butt be flustered mwah chef kiss.

General Lilia being sent to the future is a curse and a blessing...depending on who you ask 😂 jkjk

Just thinking about it and I just?? Love the thought of General Vanrouge meeting a new born baby or up to a 1 year old. Something about him just holding her with these awkward hands just has me so soft 😩🥹

But then I also think our Lilia might be possessive and go ‘My Baby’ on him, even though that’s literally himself 🤣

I have so many thoughts sooo many on how General Vanrouge’s reaction to Malleus and Silver could go, and even Sebek. But more so on Malleus and Silver. Also his reaction to his future self too, you know??

In reverse, our Lilia’s reaction to his past self. It can go many ways as well. Depending on how General Vanrouge reacts. Papa instincts ✨

But we’ll skip that because this ask is about baby and General Vanrouge ✨✨

A part of me thinks that our Lilia is going to just yeet the baby at his past self. Deja vu right?? Don’t worry, he knows himself and knows the General will catch the little one.

After flicking Lilia on the forehead for his actions and letting Mal and Sil deal with him, you go to the General who’s frozen. He caught her of course, but he seems stumped on what to do.

You can’t blame him really. After being in war and seeing and dealing with what he has. This peace and quiet must be new, not to mention being in the future.

So you go to him and as gently as possible, making sure to not frighten him, move his hands so he’s more comfortably holding the baby.

Unknown to him, but his eyes softened as the little one curled into him while making cooing noises. You know your Lilia is taking a bunch of pictures.

“See? You’re a natural.”

He looks at you in disbelief but you can see the amazement in them too.

You tell him how he has no choice but to hold the baby now because she will cry if you move her from her new favorite spot. He flusters a bit at that.

Time goes on, General Vanrouge wears casual clothing and hangs up his armor temporarily after Lilia had a talk with him. His weapon is with him, you all understand why. His need to protect what’s his is engraved even though he doesn’t see it yet.

[Sometimes you see your Lilia looking at the armor. His eyes mixed with emotions. You simply lay your head on his shoulder; he kisses your hand]

The General gets attached to your daughter. She babbles at him and pulls at his hair. He tries not to flinch. For someone who was against raising kids, the General doesn’t say anything when your daughter stuffs his hair into her mouth or drools on him as she sleeps.

Lilia’s proud, “that’s my girl!” is often heard.

At one point, you take pity on him. You take a hairbrush, running it carefully through his hair before tying it in a high bun. You fondly roll your eyes at the pout your Lilia has before taking your daughter to feed. For the General’s sake, you chose not to comment on his flustered expression.

Our Lilia is repeatedly saying “spoilers” which irritates the General whenever he asks a question. You get why it’s frustrating but the scene is rather funny and your baby girl’s laughter agrees with you.

“I won’t have you ruining my future! I’ll have you know I wouldn’t change anything for the happiness I have now, so you have to be patient.”

Malleus and Silver both have the sweetest smile. They know exactly what he means.

The General watches how his future self acts. You can see the slight scowl and twitch of his eyebrow. He’s questioning his whole existence.

What surprises you is his question to you.

“Are you sure you want to be married to that?”

“Hey!”

You laugh softly, tenderly tucking a stray strand behind his ear, “Yes. He’s you, isn’t he?”

The smile you give him then has him falling deeper unbeknownst to him.

Anabskdkds okay, but why am I the one flustered now?? Qbskwjwjejr 😂💞🥰

Ahhhhh this was longer than I expected but I had so many ideas and I wanted to especially include that last one 🥹💞

Thank you for sending this in Anonie 😭💚 Currently screaming into a pillow and rolling in bed. Ahhhhh 💞💞💞💚💚

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[shallowseeker]

And yeah, it sucks, and Dean was cruel and murderous and dehumanizing, but on the other hand, 14 days isn't very long.

And yet, at 14 days, things were already starting to repair and heal with Jack just a little bit, even before Cas came back.

(I've seen it said that this didn't occur till after Cas came back, but in 13x04, Jack's behavior and personality are what began to thaw Dean out and, per the script, "put chinks in his armor.”)

///

Interestingly, even back in 13x02, Dean’s body language doesn't match his words. Here it reads as "move behind me."

///

By the end of 13x04, Dean and Jack are tentatively starting to like each other. They're even a little bit alike in this scene:

*THEM: not looking directly at each other as they say HEY awkwardly*

Jack: Hey.

*Dean, doing the same thing*

This is also maybe the first time Dean calls Jack by his name? (I'd have to check, but I think so.)

*Dean’s eyes flitting around nervously*

Dean: “You did good today (pause) Jack”

Yeah, I think you can make a well-argued case for something-something “conditional love.”

But given the Kelly-Cas brainwashing and everything else that came before, I’d say it’s not unreasonable for Jack to like having established trust. To have earned trust.

Earning trust is important in all relationships, not necessarily always an evil “conditional” thing.

///

Then Dean goes and apologizes to Sam, saying that he was out of line during the therapy session and that he's sorry for being a dick lately.

It's sweet, but also, no one is being very empathetic to Dean and his losses. But I think by this point in Dean's life, Dean's not really expecting that either.

He’s only able to get that support from one person in his life right now: Jody Mills. (13x03) Which is part of why he felt comfy taking the case with her, I think.

Later in this scene, in a break with his past tendencies, Dean will actually try to rely on Sam:

///

DEAN: And he tapped his power and saved our asses, so that's a win.

Sam was right about one thing, though. It wasn't Jack’s powers that impressed Dean, or even being saved. It was the effort.

(Jack's personality was already thawing Dean, too.)

///

The rest of the scene is sweet. Dean tries to see Sam's perspective, and Sam tries to see Dean's.

It's a trading of strength and hope, which is how real families are, too. Our strength and resilience wax and wane, and we share our burdens, but we try to share our hope, too.

This is a rare occasion: Dean is trying to share a burden; he lets Sam know how bad it really is.

(Dundundun! Ellen Harvelle would be proud.)

Dean is accepting that Sam isn't going to get there on his own. So he spells out his despair for him. The Cas of it all.

And Sam seems to get that it’s a Cas thing. That's clear in his behavior in the next episode. And Sam wants to be there for Dean, I don't think that's a lie, but…

Sam ALWAYS wants Dean to tell him stuff like this, to talk out the big stuff. But one of Sam’s hopes is that talking things out will fix them.

(Classic Type-A kinda mentality.)

But THIS? Cas’s death isn't fixable, not quite as nebulous as the mom-in-Apocalypse-World-problem is. (In fact, I wouldn't put it past Sam to have been up all night researching, finding NO way to get Cas back. Alternatively, the constant casework could represent just utter denial.)

Anyhoo, Sam's grieving the losses too, but Dean is different. And unfortunately for Sam, John Winchester's grief was so horrendous and frightening that seeing Dean's, uh, particular kind of grief triggers Sam's panic response.

Just look at Sam’s face here.

SAM's BRAIN: brrrrrrrr RED ALERT brrrrr RED ALERT

*Meanwhile*

///

Next episode (13x05):

We find Sam in a state of near-panic. Just look at that face:

And actually, looking at Sam's D8> here…

..I think it's possible that he TOTALLY knew what the PB&J stuff was about, and his brain went into a meat grinder of:

OH NO FUCK NO NO NOT THIS--I RECOGNIZE THIS. THIS KIND OF GRIEF RUINED MY CHILDHOOD!!!!!111

{8[

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean (analysis)

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean Redux (s7 analysis)

///

So.

Sam finds a case about best friends. Makes you wonder what he was googling to find it...

And Sam’s distress surrounding the case is interesting, because he is behaving so DIFFERENTLY than he was in 13x02 and 13x03:

Dean: *cue surprise*

Dean is weirded out. Maybe he figured Sam would let him take a real break, or maybe it's just that the timing of Sam’s suggestion of leaving Jack behind feels weird now.

They’ve switched places.

Dean was eager to leave Jack in 13x03, and Sam was the one insisting on them staying with Jack to help him “learn to control his powers.”

Now, in about two weeks’ time, Sam’s like—“Jack has TV! We’ll put up extra warding! It’ll be fiiiine!”

Dean’s brain, probably: Hmmm. Sam is trying to cheer me up, but wow are these about-faces on what's bad parenting and what's good parenting kinda fucked up.

///

And at the end of the episode, Dean tries again to tell Sam just how bad it is (mirroring Mary's willingness to offer up “not being okay” in s12):

And Sam is pretty much at sea.

[miriamladyvoid]

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My ask: I know the applications are closed but when they are open I would like a second part with: Silver, Sebek, Trey and Deuce. This section is too good to end like this, I hadn't laughed so hard all week (by the way good luck with your homework).

➸𝘍𝘜𝘙𝘉𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘔𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘌𝘍 pt. 2

concept: [character] with s/o that has a very protective little brother!grim

characters: silver || sebek zigvolt || trey clover || deuce spade

disclaimers: reader is gender neutral || reader is yuu || fluff

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

grim knows not to mess with lilia’s son, but he does it anyways cus yk, that’s what blue furballs do.

dudes just trying to sleep until grim harshly wakes him up. “did you know that you shouldn’t date prefect cus they’re ugly and they they don’t love you. wake up and break up” poor silver.

you once tried to cut his hair cus it was getting too long, just when you were about to cut his bangs grim just oh so coincidentally as under the table and accidentally burnt your shoe. what happened to silvers bangs that day? the kokoro + xingqiu effect.

he grew up with lilia’s cooking, so of course you love to cook for the boy, but with grim around? he literally puked in the stew you were cooking for silver.

grim makes letters to piss him off and signs them off with your name, silver doesn’t really read them and they get sent to lilia so rip to you both.

𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐳𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

“you probably love malleus more than you love prefect” “HOW DARE YOU SAY TO THAT, I LOVE THE PREFECT A LOT.” say goodbye to your rights to hear cus this mans a humanized megaphone.

grim loves taunting him with malleus, he’s the exact reason of the trust issues in your relationship. grim loves torturing this man.

his favorite activity is hanging out in the botanical garden so there’s no doubt he loves to take you there to talk about your day. it all goes so well until grim appears behind one of the flowers and technically sets his hair on fire.

he likes to carry you around, he loves it actually. just carrying you and running around diasomnia is so fun. however, it is not fun when grim makes him trip which results to the both of you falling.

he helps you with your math homework, which you are very grateful for. but grim did not let that slide, burning the papers alongside the table you two were sitting at.

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

grim tries a lot of things to get you two to break up. but this man literally has fucking plot armor cus HOW???

grim once broke a bag full of flour to pour on you two, it was a success, but not how it was supposed to be.

you two were under the flour laughing your asses off, a single moment of silence and suddenly you two were KISSING? he wanted to puke out a whole furball at that spot.

there has also been times where grim tried to dump paint over you and blame it on trey, but ace and deuce always has trey’s back because, well, he’s the only piece of hope in the whole heartslaybul dorm.

angry trey is terrifying. grim once tried to sabotage your soup -which you were very proud of - and got stuffed in the oven for like 3 hours cus of this man.

𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

he loves it when you paint the little spade mark on his face, it always seems to go wrong after grim ‘accidentally’ replaced the bottle with hot sauce.

he wants to be the honor student and your honor boyfriend, he has to be physically restrained to stop himself from choking the furballs outta grim.

he gets so red and shakes so much when you just tell him a simple “you’re eyes are so beautiful” after you leave grim just appears outta nowhere and cosplays mira kano for a bit “you know they didn’t mean that right”.

dude will come to your dorm in the middle of the night and go “hey i lost my bed, can i sleep in yours?” really tired grim just responds with “this is why prefect doesn’t love you”.

he got you cute matching necklaces with him for valentines day but did those ever last? hell no grim literally snatched and then swallowed them when he was just about to put it around your neck. good soup ong.

The original publication and writing belongs to @miliinmi (Post recovered) 31/12/22

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: Camellia Japonica: Platonic Love. Second Banner: Peach Blossom: Generosity. Third Banner: Gillyflower: Bonds of Affection.

[keehomania]

like him — rcm (drabble)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ i’m everything that i’ve strived to be. so, do i look like him? do i look like him? i don’t look like him

he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. he knew it was there, following him, clinging to him like a second skin. even when he tried to move on, something was always there to remind him. he was reminded of it when he saw the look in his sister’s eye, the look of fear, disdain. he saw it every time he walked by her friends, their glares boring into his skull. sometimes he’d glare back, because he was supposed to. that was him. but not today.

today, he was tired. tired of the constant weight bearing down on his shoulders, tired of pretending it didn’t exist. he leaned forward, his palms pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom sink, the sharp edge biting into his hands as if to anchor him. his reflection stared back, hollowed and harrowed, a shadow of the man he was expected to be. the room was dim, the fluorescent light overhead flickering, casting uneven shadows across his face. it wasn’t the face of a son. it was the face of a ghost.

blood was thicker than water. he wanted to change, but how could he? how could he take a wrecking ball to the dominoes he had been placing since he was a little boy? every step, every choice, every piece of who he was had been meticulously constructed to fit the image ward cameron demanded of him. and if he tore it all down, what would be left? nothing. nothing but the boy who was never enough.

“ever since you were a little boy,” rose’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and cutting, delivered with the same coldness that had made her such a perfect match for ward. “even then, you were there, sucking up to him.”

it wasn’t the words themselves that stung. no, it was the venom, the quiet disdain in her voice, the way she said it like it was a fact, a cruel joke at his expense. because she knew. everyone knew. rafe cameron, desperate for his father’s approval, clinging to the scraps of affection ward had dangled before him like bait.

he didn’t know when it had started. maybe it had always been that way. maybe he had never been his daddy’s little boy, not really. maybe he had just been a means to an end, a pawn in the game ward was always playing. but he’d wanted it to be real. god, how he’d wanted it to be real. he dreamt about it sometimes. about him.

sometimes they’d talk, just the two of them, no tension, no expectations. his father would sit across from him, his expression soft, his words kind. other times, they’d hug, ward’s arms wrapping around him in a way that felt safe, steady, the way a father’s embrace should. those dreams were the worst. because he couldn’t remember which parts were real and which weren’t. did his father ever hold him like that? did he ever look at him with pride, with love? or was it all a fabrication, a desperate attempt by his mind to fill in the gaping holes his father had left behind?

rafe swallowed hard, his throat tight, his chest heavier with every breath. the mirror in front of him blurred as his vision clouded, tears threatening to spill. he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, grounding himself in the pain. rose had been wrong about one thing. he hadn’t stopped being his daddy’s little boy. not really. because even now, with ward gone, with the weight of his father’s sins pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, rafe still wanted to make him proud. even now, he still wanted to be enough.

he looked like him. he’d seen it first when he ward had died, standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, the weight of his father’s suit draped over his shoulders. it didn’t fit him—not then, not now—but he’d thought, this is what it means to be the man of the house. to carry the weight, to wear the armor. the fabric swallowed him whole, but he’d stood there anyway, staring at himself, trying to see what his father saw. trying to see the man he was supposed to become.

but all he saw were his father’s eyes. cold. empty. they stared back at him, unrelenting, the kind of eyes that gave nothing and took everything. he didn’t have the beard yet, or the wrinkles etched deep into his face like scars from a life lived with too much pride and too little joy. not yet, at least. but the eyes were there, as unmistakable as the blood that tied them together. he looked like him. and it haunted him.

it haunted him every time he caught his reflection in the mirror, every time he passed a window and saw the faintest shadow of himself. it haunted him in the moments of quiet, when there was no one around to pretend for, no one to blame but himself. because no matter how much he hated it—hated him—he couldn’t escape it. ward had known it too.

rafe saw it in the way his father’s eyes would linger on him, not with love, but with a strange, detached fascination, like he was looking into a distorted version of himself. like he was trying to figure out how he’d gone so wrong. ward would see himself in his boy’s eyes, his own reflection staring back at him. and even that wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough to love him. not the way rafe needed to be loved.

he had spent his whole life chasing it, that love, that approval. he’d followed his father like a shadow, desperate to be noticed, desperate to be something to him. he wanted to be seen, not as a reflection, but as a son. a boy who had tried so hard, who had given everything he had.

but ward had only ever seen the flaws. the cracks. the places where rafe didn’t measure up. and rafe knew that because every glance, every word, every disappointed sigh had cut him deeper than he’d ever let on. and now ward was gone, and all that was left was the reflection. the man in the mirror, staring back at him with cold, empty eyes. the man he had spent his entire life trying not to become. the man he couldn’t stop becoming.

he wasn’t the hero he wanted to be. not in sarah’s eyes, and certainly not in ward’s. he wanted to be. god, he wanted to be. but heroes weren’t made of cracked mirrors and borrowed shadows, and that’s all rafe cameron had ever been. he wasn’t the strong, steady protector sarah needed. he wasn’t the prodigal son ward had demanded. he was something else entirely—something broken.

he went to sleep at night carrying the weight of sins he didn’t know how to put down. they clung to him like chains, heavy and unyielding, each link forged in blood he couldn’t wash away. his hands were stained, his soul tarnished, and it was all for his father. every mistake, every crime, every dark corner he’d backed himself into—it was all for ward. and yet, it was never enough.

he knew something was wrong with him. he could feel it, an ache deep in his chest, a hollowed-out space where something vital should have been. he’d told ward that once, on a cold night by the docks, his breath visible in the frigid air, his eyes wet with fresh tears.

“something’s wrong with me,” he’d said, his voice breaking as he looked at the man he was trying so hard to become.

ward had barely looked at him. he’d brushed it off with the same indifference he reserved for inconveniences, telling him to man up like it was that simple. like it was a choice. like rafe hadn’t been trying to man up every single day of his life, pulling on that damn suit and praying it would fit. it still didn’t fit.

he lashed out. he fought, screamed, tore through the world like a hurricane, desperate to prove that he was enough. desperate to hear the words he needed, the words he would never hear. he watched ward’s love go to sarah, to rose, to anyone but him. it didn’t matter what he did or how hard he tried. it was never going to be him. but it was supposed to be. he needed it to be. he was angry at ward, at sarah, at the pogues, at the whole damn world. but most of all, he was angry at himself. because deep down, he blamed himself.

he blamed himself for not trying hard enough, for not being good enough, for not being enough. if he’d been stronger, smarter, better, maybe things would have been different. maybe ward would have loved him the way he loved sarah. maybe rafe would have felt like a son instead of a failure. but he wasn’t. and he didn’t. and so he stayed angry. It was easier that way. easier to burn than to crumble. easier to fight than to fall apart. easier to hate himself than to admit he’d never been given a fair chance to begin with.

the house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt wrong, like it was waiting for something to shatter. you stood in the doorway, watching him pace the room, the expensive rug muffling the sound of his footsteps. he was wearing the suit again, the one that didn’t fit right. too big in the shoulders, too long in the sleeves. it hung off him like it didn’t belong, like he didn’t belong in it.

you were the only one who saw through the mask he wore, the carefully constructed armor of arrogance and cruelty that he carried like a second skin. to everyone else, rafe cameron was the villain in his own story—reckless, unhinged, the cautionary tale whispered in the quiet corners of polite conversation. but not to you.

to you, he wasn’t the monster they said he was. he was the boy behind the mask, raw and bleeding, his soul fraying at the edges. they called him unredeemable, a lost cause, but you wondered when the last time was that any of them had asked him how he was really doing. when had they looked at the storm raging behind his eyes and dared to reach out a hand instead of casting judgment?

rafe didn’t wear his pain on his sleeve; he buried it deep, where no one could touch it. but you saw it. in the way his hands trembled when he thought no one was looking. in the way his voice would crack, barely audible, when he spoke of things he wished he could change but never did. you knew he wasn’t the bad guy people made him out to be. he was just a boy who wanted to be loved. that was the tragedy of it all, wasn’t it? he wanted love so desperately, but love had never been gentle with him. the heart, after all, came with blood. and his heart had bled for so long, it felt like there was nothing left.

“rafe,” you called softly, but he didn’t hear you. or maybe he did, and he just couldn’t stop.

his movements were erratic, sharp, like he was trying to outrun something that wasn’t there. his hands twitched at his sides, curling into fists before unclenching again. he muttered under his breath, words you couldn’t make out, his voice low and strained, like he was arguing with himself. you stepped closer, hesitating when his shoulders stiffened.

“rafe,” you tried again, louder this time. he stopped.

for a moment, you thought he might turn to you, might let you in. but then his fist shot out, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack that made you flinch. he hit the wall again, and again, each impact reverberating through the room, through you. his knuckles split open, blood smearing against the pristine white paint, but he didn’t stop. his breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, his chest heaving like he couldn’t get enough air.

“rafe, please,” you begged, stepping closer, your voice trembling. “you’re scaring me.”

he froze, his fist hovering mid-air, his whole body trembling as though he were holding himself together by sheer force of will. slowly, he turned his head, and for the first time, you saw his eyes. it wasn’t you he was fighting. it wasn’t even the world. it was himself. your heart ached as you watched him, standing there in that ill-fitting suit, his knuckles dripping blood onto the marble floor. he looked like a child playing dress-up, trying so desperately to be something he wasn’t.

you reached out, your hand hovering near his arm, but he felt so far away. you didn’t know how to reach him, didn’t know how to pull him back from wherever he’d gone. so you stayed. you stayed and watched as he shook, as he muttered, as he fell apart piece by piece. and then, suddenly, it was like all the fight drained out of him.

he collapsed to the ground, his knees hitting the marble with a dull thud. his bloody hands hung limp at his sides, his head bowed, his breath hitching in his throat. you didn’t think. you just moved. sinking to your knees beside him, you wrapped your arms around his head, pulling him into your chest. he didn’t resist, didn’t say a word, didn’t even cry. he just let you hold him, his body trembling against yours.

he didn’t cry right away. at first, there was just the silence—the kind that suffocates, heavy and oppressive, wrapping itself around you like a shroud. his chest heaved against you, his breaths uneven and ragged, but the tears didn’t come. they were caught somewhere deep inside him, trapped beneath years of anger and shame, beneath the weight of a name that had always felt like a curse.

you didn’t say anything. not yet. you didn’t dare look down at him, not when you could feel the tremor in his body, the way his hands shook as they hovered near your sides like he didn’t know if he was allowed to hold on. so you held on for him.

your arms stayed locked around him, pulling him closer, your fingers threading through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. you didn’t care that his blood was on the floor, that it was smearing against your clothes. all you cared about was him.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling but steady. “you’re okay.”

the words weren’t just for him; they were for you too. a lifeline for the both of you as the room seemed to close in, as the echoes of his fists meeting the wall still lingered in the air. it was exactly what ward had said to him, but when you said it, you said it like a promise. not a platitude. not a lie. you weren't convicing him, you weren't convicing yourself. you said it like you believed it, and no one had believed in him. and that was when it happened.

the first tear slipped down his face, silent and almost imperceptible, blending into the sweat on his brow. but then came another, and another, until they were streaming freely, carving paths down his cheeks, dripping onto the marble floor beneath him.

his sobs were quiet at first, muffled against your chest, but they grew louder, rawer, until they were shaking his entire body. he was falling apart in your arms, piece by jagged piece, and all you could do was hold him together as best you could.

“i’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking on the words. “i’m sorry, i’m so—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your hand still stroking his hair, your other arm pulling him impossibly closer. “let it out, come on. you're doing so good.”

and he did, because he was. he cried for everything he’d lost, for everything he’d done, for everything he’d never been. he cried for the little boy who had worn his father’s suit, desperate to be something he could never be. he cried for the man he had become, the man who terrified even himself. but most of all, he cried because you didn’t look at him the way everyone else did, the way he did.

you didn’t look at him with fear or disdain or judgment. you didn’t tell him to man up or walk away when he unraveled. you stayed.

“you’re okay,” you murmured again, your voice soft but sure. “you’re not him.”

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

a/n: s1-s3 rafe they could never understand u like i do

[hermajestytak]

Everyone talks about Pilot!Dib vs Show!Dib, but Pilot!Zim doesn't get enough love for how unique he is

So after my bizarrely thorough pilot research, here's my points on what makes Pilot!Zim unique! (aside from his pretty sakura pink eyes)

Also note that a lot of this info comes from the original Show Bible; the Pilot itself shows a lot of characterization but can only show so much

Firstly, writing aside, we gotta talk about performance. Whether it's Richard Horvitz, Billy West, or the ORIGINAL Mark Hamill lines that Nick is keeping somewhere in their vault, Pilot Zim is more low-key and mellow than his finalized version. Like sure, he's still evil and hammy (in more of a "cringe angry little kid on the playground" sort of way) and he still screams, but it's NOTHING compared to the balls to the walls "HAVE YOU THE BRAIN-WORMS?!" madness that is Show!Zim. So this is the only continuity where Zim is way more sane than Dib tbh

Pilot Zim is really only shown on the defense in his episode; even in the fight scene, he only really uses his mech's shield and armor. The show bible describes scenarios where he's antagonistic and tries to actually ruin human lives (in a very pathetic way), but for the most part he's an observing alien spy trying to defend himself from Dib's torment. Hell, it's said in the show bible that he only ruined Operation Impending Doom 1 because his short ass couldn't see over the control panel. The most evil thing he does is snatch one child's brain nonchalantly. This is in contrast to Show Zim being a PURE MENACE.

He's a gamer! And an angry one at that. In main series, Zim's Computer claims that his base has no video games.

Pilot!Zim's got way less constitution than Show!Zim. The show bible REALLY emphasizes Zim's allergies being a major reacurring part of the show while in the final series they're just an occasional danger. Pilot!Zim's body also reacts to Earth allergens much more violently than Show!Zim's.

Pilot!Zim and Pilot!GIR feel simultaneously more positive yet more distant. They just meet up, Zim gives a command, GIR does the thing he's asked, and Zim walks off smiling. Sure, GIR is still said to get distracted behind Zim's back or straight up make up information in the Show Bible, but he doesn't piss off Zim like he does in the show. It really makes them feel more like coworkers than, dare I say it, family.

PILOT ZIM JUST STOPS TO COMPLIMENT DIB'S WORK BEFORE BATTLE?? AND LIKE...DOESN'T TWIST IT OR ANYTHING HE'S JUST "WOW THAT THING YOU MADE IS COOL! YOU MUST HAVE WORKED HARD ON IT :)))" LIKE WHATTTT??!?! I know I always bring this ONE brief interaction up when talking about the pilot but I can't emphasize enough how BIZARRE of a thing this is for Zim to do.

Building on last point, Pilot Zim is much, much more capable of positive interactions with humans. He still wants to conquer them because by God, that's his job, but he doesn't seem to hate them????!?!?!? Like he actually tries twice to sit with human kids only to weird them out, the whole...Dib compliment thing[?!] and in the original rough draft, he actually THANKS Gaz for taking him home?! Like he's having a normal conversation?!! This is really odd for him since in the show, his undying hatred for humans is one of the things Zim is loudest about and he specifically chooses to sit alone at lunch.

Pilot Zim doesn't have the insane ego levels of Show Zim! He still refuses to acknowledges his flaws, is enthusiastic and proud of himself and his mission, and is VERY eager to please his Tallest, but it's very minor compared to Show Zim CONSTANTLY boasting about how AMAZING he is because HE IS ZIIIM!!!!

Speaking of, Pilot Zim lacks a LOT of Show Zim's iconic mannerisms!!! You know, the iconic big evil laughs, the "EH?!"s, the constant use of his own name, the occasional referring to himself in third person, Zim repeating himself, Zim not listening to anyone, ALL of those qualities are just straight up absent in Pilot Zim. Part of this is the less quirky writing and part of this was Richard Horvitz not getting to add his ✨️spark✨️ to the character yet.

Instead of just Richard Horvitz doing a straight up scream like "AAAAAAHH" Pilot Zim screeches with more of a "EEE! EEE! EEEE!" when panicked (which I think is adorable)

So next time y'all feel like drawing your maniac Pilot Dibs or alternate Zims, try spicing up your art with some Pilot Zim! He's like show Zim except he remembered to take his meds and you can have a semi-normal conversation with him.