#perspective fought hard but i fought harder

[shuuenka]

happy new year! Wu Chun Tian / Fei Bai Bing

[doctorwillsolace]

I think a huge part of why I'm so upset is that I truly deluded myself into thinking she might win

[angstpancake]

There was something in the way Grian said “I don’t want to be responsible” when troubleshooting the spider nest that made me think how sad Mumbo and Skizz dying was from a storytelling perspective.

Grian and Mumbo fought so hard to keep Skizz alive. And it worked long enough for Mumbo to die to something that could’ve been avoided if Grian thought a little harder to be safe about it. And Skizz died due to his own failures to be vigilant and safe.

Grian was left the last Spanner standing, wondering if anything he’d tried to do to keep his friends safe was worth it in the end. Then immediately replacing them just to keep himself sane.

[linimoonlight]

I keep thinking about the town of fobo homophobia bit because its so interesting from so many perspectives!

For qTubbo it might have started as a joke but also an outlet to express his fear of being left behind with qFit and qPacs relationship becoming official. (I have definitely seen some great posts on here that are better at diving deep into it than me.)

And then there is qFit and the talk he had with qFoolish a few days ago. This whole thing is so much more complicated for his character than for most others. He comes from an incredibly toxic, homophobic place. He has just started to finally overcome his deeply rooted internilization. He is finally happy being himself, having a loving boyfriend. And thats not an easy thing to overcome! Its incredibly hard to get rid of old habits and thought patterns! But he is trying and succeeding every day a little bit more.

But if you have someone who constantly confirms these old thought patterns you fought so hard to get past it makes it just soo much harder to not fall back, to stay on track. So if qFit jokingly talking to qFoolish comes across a little more serious than he intended than maybe because to him it is a little more serious even if he hasnt realized it.

And then there is qFoolish who probably just hates all gay people because his boyfriend has been gone for so long and he has no one to be gay with.

[castiels-undercoat]

(Their faces here guys 😫😭)

This scene makes me so sad at like a core level. Not just for Cas but also for Dean. Like from Cas's perspective the person he loves most in the world basically hates him now, after Cas did everything for him. Dean and Sam were all he had and Dean couldnt let go of this anger he had towards him and it drove him away. UNDERSTANDABLY SO.

And while Dean was undeniably wrong you can also pinpoint exact traumas that led up to this, and that affected this. The thing that gets me the most is something I havent seen anyone else mention before though.

A good quote that resonates with Dean for me is the whole "everything ive ever let go of has claw marks on it" (David Foster Wallace) one. Dean has literally had to beg and fight and claw for people to stay. Since he was four years old he had to keep Sam safe and make sure Sam stayed in the shitty hotel rooms while all Sam wanted to do was run away (again, understandable! Not blaming Sam)

On top of that he had to deal with his dad leaving all the time, john was never around. Dean had to call and beg his own father to show up for them when he felt like they really needed him and john still wouldnt show up for him or sam. When sam died Dean couldnt just let it go, he fought and searched for anything to bring him back, even to the point of making demon deals. Whatever it took to not have to let go! Even when Mary came back it seemed like all she wanted to do was leave, Dean begged her to stay and she still wouldnt, then she died and he lost that possibility of that closer relationship with his mom that he was fighting so hard for.

Even Cas, he has begged Cas to stay more then once. In purgatory he fights through all the monsters there for a full YEAR just to find Cas and then Cas left him. He let go of Deans hand and the memory was SO PAINFUL that Dean had to fictionalize it to himself and make it his fault because he couldnt handle the fact that not even Cas would fight harder to stay with him. The only times he let go of people without a fight was when he had to, when he was a danger to them (lisa, ben, human Cas), or when they were gone forever with no shot of coming back (and even then he would fucking try.)

But i feel like we see a shift in Dean in season 15. He was always the fighter, never afraid to fight for who he loved or for what he thought was right. But here that fight is so drained out of him. Hes tired. Hes tired of fighting and portecting and pushing along even when he wanted to die, he doesnt want to have to survive all the time anymore.

Hes just tired of begging people to stay when it seems like all anybody ever wants to do is leave him. He doesnt feel good enough to be the one thing that keeps people around because he never HAS been good enough for them to stay. He didnt want Cas to leave (no matter how mad at him he was) but he didnt want to be the guy who digs his claws in only for someone to still leave him again.

[singlepops09]

Beginning.... Again

Got shut down again. I was up for a while and had like 2k followers but who knows how many people actually read my shit. A lot called me sick and a monster and more often than not....I agree. Going back into it and writing things down put a certain perspective on things. I could have done a lot of things very very different. Some bad decisions were bread out of loneliness... Some were drug or alcohol induced and some stem from my own fucked up childhood.

I met a woman many years ago now, I was definitely a bit wild and so was she. I would say we were both at an age where certain behaviors were just not acceptable or they were tacky at best. We dated and fought... Broke up and made up. One thing lead to another and she became pregnant. She swore it was mine and I decided not to argue. I had a decent job and was bordering responsible haha. I made the decision to ask her to marry me and in a less than enthusiastic way she accepted said proposal. I stepped up or so I told myself anyways, she didn't really have many options and youth had left her.

The pregnancy went as well as could be expected, I took a lot of abuse but told myself it was the hormones. When my daughter was born I was definitely in love which was good, at least one parent has to be gaga lol. Her mom just became more distant and going out a lot more not always coming home. I didn't care much as I was busy being a dad. One night.... She didn't come home and tbh I wasn't going to look too hard. After some time she contacted me and was just a raging cunt about life and I guess needed one last chance to tell me how much of a tiny dick loser I was. Years later she tried again and that didn't go well either, she's just a broken person.

I just made my life about being a dad and working, I didn't have much of a life outside of that and had very few friends. The first few years were tough but with help from neighbors and friends we made it through. I didn't date and that started to affect me. The first time I noticed it was at bath time and maybe she was slightly too old to need help but she was definitely a spoiled daddies girl... It wasn't extremely inappropriate but slightly. I noticed her body, it wasn't conscious at first just a familiar feeling. She stood up and I couldn't help but look a little too long and some puffy bits and without thinking and without notice I was hard as a rock. I felt horrible and disgusted, I didn't touch her or anything but I definitely had a physical reaction. I put on some porn that night to try and flush it out but while jacking off her puffy pussy popped in my head. She had a what I would think is a bigger than usual clit.... That's definitely from her mom. I came to a mixture of thoughts and definitely didn't sleep at all. I got pretty depressed and beat myself up but got over it after a while. I told her she was big enough to take her own baths. I figured I was safe.

They develop earlier and earlier these days. She was growing up and didn't really like clothes all that much. Nights were usually her in shorts until it was closer to bed then it was panties and a T-shirt. Her nipples got puffy and were definitely clear through her night shirt and her too small panties outlined her little pussy. I tried not to look but it was getting harder not to. I made a decision, I needed to date....I needed pussy. It had been a decade for me and I figured that's just what I needed to do. It was getting rough hiding my hard dick while cuddling...I didn't think she noticed so figured I was safe.

I dated a bit and got laid a good amount, I didn't date in her circles and stayed away from her teachers.... definitely had so many opportunities but I resisted. I did find a girl that I was actually dating for a bit and I had her over. She wasn't thrilled with the attention I gave my daughter and there was jealousy so I knew it wasn't going to work out. One night after dinner and some wine she was frisky and being touchy with my and was trying to do things under the blanket while we all watched a movie and I kept blocking her. She was getting frustrated then mad. I didn't think my daughter.... We'll call her Cali.... Noticed at all but later I'll find out how wrong I was. Cali went to bed and I gave it a bit and my gf was mad by this point and I was annoyed. We ended up fucking but it was very aggressive and I did things that we somewhat out of character. I pushed her head down to my cock and when she took it into her mouth I ended up taking over and fucking her mouth making her tear and gag. I thought I saw something move but I didn't stop and I didn't really see anything. I stopped being as aggressive and let her do her thing. I think she really liked what I did because I never got my dick sucked so good. I usually can't cum from a bj and I felt I was getting close so when I told her I was going to cum and started to pull out so I didn't and we could move on she grabbed my ass and went to town.... When I started to cum she pulled me out and jacked me off on her tits. It was crazy.... Usually after I cum I lose interest but for some reason I was fired up...I pushed her back and ate her pussy... She came a lot begging me to stop. I was hard again so I just started fucking her.... Pretty aggressively....I head something at the door but nothing was there....I was getting close she was just animalistic grunting and cumming and when I was about to cum she pushed me out and said cum on my face....I never liked doing that but that night fuck yeah and covered her face. She cleaned up and came to bed.... We were both naked and wore out. She was up and out pretty early the next day.

I did some cleaning and did the laundry. I was washing calis clothes and then I noticed it, her little cotton panties were wet, I thought she maybe peed but she never had that issue. It didn't look like pee and without a second thought I brought them to my nose. It was her cum.... My little girl came in her panties and came a lot. I think that was a turning point...I kept smelling and then I noticed I was hard. I was full of lust and didn't think...I pulled my cock out and wrapped her wet panties around me and furiously jacked off cumming into them right where she came...I was picturing her watching me fuck my gf while rubbing her little pussy...I bet the noise I heard was her cumming. I unloaded filling her panties with cum. I instantly felt sick and threw them in the washer. I couldn't look at her for a while after that. Things kept getting weird after that!

[crying-mybest]

Star Thief (Part 4)

TW- Trauma dumping

Word Count- 1,300

Masterlist Part 3 Part 5

A/N- This part is entirely in Kylo's perspective. witch is in red text, I am color blind so if this makes it hard to read please leave a comment and I will change it.

When the Captain and her team finally managed to pry the door open, they were met with a strange scene. I crouched over the girl tenderly sweeping a lock of loose hair away from her face. She was breathing but would most certainly wake up with bruises, and a mark on her neck from the saber’s heat. I couldn’t tell if she was brave or stupid, no one had willingly engaged me in combat since the academy.

“Will a medic team be needed, Sir?” Phasma asked from behind me. 

“No, not now. Proceed as planned, but ensure the medics are waiting in hanger 1,”.

She responded with “Yes, sir,” before instructing the crew.

I picked the girl up and placed her on the bench before retrieving my lightsaber. She could have killed me but she wanted a fair fight, what unique quality to have in an opponent. 

The ship took off, although nearly 30 minutes behind schedule. When we landed the girl was taken to the medical sector and I was informed that the supreme leader requested to speak with me. 

I arrived in the dark chamber and kneeled before the Supreme Leader. 

“You requested me.” I spoke clearly

“The girl you spoke of in your transmission, where is she?”

I rose to my feet and explained “She insisted on fighting me,” Snoke raised his eyebrow as I continued “she is well trained and skilled in both the force and hand to hand combat, but her temper needs to be channeled in the right direction she is currently unconscious in med bay.”

Snoke took a moment to think before asking “Why was she so insistent on fighting you, is she one of the Resistance?”,

 “As I previously stated she was a stowaway on a resistance ship, I've searched her mind and the crew of the ship, I can confirm with certainty that she is not one of them. I believe she fought me because I irritated her, I wanted to see how far I could push her, and how much she would tolerate,” I smirked. It was an amusing circumstance.

Snoke took another moment and said, “when she wakes, bring her to me, until then try to win her trust.” With that, the hologram disappeared, and I left the room a moment later.

I was exhausted, no sleep in 45 hours and the girl managed to get some good hits in. My muscles ached and the more I became aware of it the harder it was to walk. Eventually, I made it to my chambers. I removed my mask and boots before I flopped onto my bed embracing the arms of sleep. I didn’t usually dream but when I did It was never good.  

Vague flashes of red and green light, screams of pain, my father's face. I awoke but not in my bed, instead in a field looking up at a star-filled sky. I rolled over to see the young woman's face, she looked peaceful as she curled into my chest. Something strange was happening, I didn’t push her away, instead, I embraced her warmth. I placed my hand on her head and listened to her breathing. 

She spoke one word, a tone far more gentle than I had ever heard her speak, “Ben”.  

I bolted awake now in my bed, in my chambers I was sweating profusely. I took a shower but the dream never left my mind. Even as I walked toward the medical sector the burning confusion remained. What did it mean? How did she know that name? Was it truly just a dream? 

I arrived at the medical bay and demanded to see her. A medical droid showed me to her bed. She was still out like a light, I noticed a burn patch placed over a portion of her neck. The blade got closer than Intended, I must have grazed her neck. 

“Would you like a report on her condition?” the friendly robotic voice of the medical droid asked.

“Proceed.”

“The patient [unknown 24 year old female] has several broken ribs and minor surface bruising. Her left wrist is sprained and she has a mild 2nd degree burn on her neck.”

“You may leave now.” 

Snoke was right. I couldn't keep clashing with her. If I was going to train her I had to find what drove her. I looked at her with curiosity, I felt no remorse or regret in my actions. She wanted a fight, I suspected it was more than pushing she was angry about. I remembered the memories, and the face of her old master finally connected to a name, Ahsoka Tano. I vaguely remembered stories, she must have been old by the time the girl became a padawan. She couldn’t keep up with the child, but abandonment seemed low even for Ahsoka.

I reached into her mind once more. But the memory only played vaguely, it was like she had suppressed it so far that it didn’t matter anymore. She groaned as I pushed further, but her resolve was strong. Her weak hands tried to push me away, but I stopped when I noticed she was hurting herself more by trying. 

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Why are you so damn insistent on seeing that memory?” She growled.

I took a moment to think before answering “It means something to you, it is the root of your anger.”

“You’ve seen it, you know. She left me there, and I waited for her. She never came back.”

“There's more than that. Just let me in, and I can help you.” I reached out to her once more. She ignored it and stared daggers into me. “I was betrayed by the Jedi once. I know what it feels like. I do,”.

Her eyes ignited in fury “You know nothing of my pain. They looked for you. You meant something. You had missing posters even in the outer rim, there was a bounty out, enough credits to buy a planet. You don’t know what it's like to be forgotten. I might have been young but don't think I don't know who you are, Ben Solo.”

It took everything in me not to kill her, instead I stood and told her to get some rest before leaving. I stormed out of the medical sector before igniting my saber and slashing a nearby wall—sparks and seething red. 

I stopped when the wall was gone. It didn't matter she had enough rage and determination to impress The Supreme Leader. I have to be the bigger person here, the mentor, even if I wanted her dead. 

I went about my day, boring meetings and briefings. In the back of my mind, I tried to concoct a way to get her to trust me. 

I put in a request for her to get her own quarters on Star Killer and the finalizer. I would have escorted her myself but my schedule didn’t allow it besides she already feels like a prisoner, so I don’t need to amplify that feeling. A day went by before I visited her. 

She knew It was me before I knocked. For decency, I still knocked. 

“Why are you here?” her voice radiated anger.

“Can I come in?” I asked

She hesitated before opening the door and asking one more time “Why are you here?” this time she sounded more conflicted.

I stepped into the small room, closed the door behind me, then removed my mask and placed it on an empty desk.

“When I offered to train you, you asked me a question. You asked if I was sure, do you remember my response? ”

She remained silent

“Without question” I practically whispered. “I still stand by that decision, and I promise you I won’t go back on that.”

Her eyes began to water as she choked out “What do you want?”.  

“I need you to trust me.”

[fromthedeskofsigma]

An Open Letter to Cenk Uygur

I'm Youtube user SigmAnalog. I've been watching the The Young Turks since I was in high school--I think around 2010-ish? It's hard for me to say exactly, but that doesn't especially matter. What matters is that, even though I've never been financially stable enough to afford a paid membership, I've been hanging on every word from your mouth for my entire adult life so far.

Just this once, though, I want you to listen to me, without judging or immediately dismissing my words as meaningless. They come from a place of admiration and concern.

Yesterday, Mondale Robinson very publicly announced his decision to leave your network. He's far from the first--Jimmy Dore and Dave Rubin were VERY noticeable departures, and we rightfully decried them for caving to moneyed interests on the right.

This is not what has happened with Mondale Robinson.

Mayor Robinson left because you and Ana--the two loudest voices in the room on this network--have completely lost the plot. You've railed against "cancel culture" as being "anti-free-speech," not because it makes having or voicing unpopular opinions dangerous, but because it makes it harder to arrange for paid venues in which to broadcast them. You repeatedly and brazenly parroted right-wing talking points about the border without providing any kind of pushback against what is very obviously a racist, nationalist framing of a serious humanitarian issue. You, personally, fought tooth and nail AGAINST letting your employees unionize with IATSE, then tried to pretend you were never against the idea instead of owning up to your own mistakes. Most recently, you've started talking about how supporting trans rights is tactically disadvantageous to the Left, and Ana has gone on Glenn Beck's show, of all people, to claim that trans people's civil rights are an unfair "purity test" and that their rights can't interfere with the rights of "actual women," which is EXACTLY what ghouls like Nancy Mace and others on the right are using as an excuse to deny trans people the right to PEE, let alone exist.

This is not okay. NONE OF THIS is okay. Like you, I'm a firm believer in the idea that the Left needs to have room for a broad range of opinions and perspectives, but there needs to be a limit--we cannot expect to survive as an ideology when core tenets of our ideology are up for debate. It is a core belief of leftism that all people, regardless of their country of origin, deserve to be treated with dignity and kindness. It is a core belief of leftism that labor needs to be able to organize itself, without exception--even when company leadership has their workers' best interests at heart. It is a core belief of leftism that NOBODY should have to live as a second-class citizen for the benefit of others' comfort. As for "cancel culture," well, if you're such a big believer in a free market, you should already know that "freedom of speech" doesn't mean "freedom to get paid for speech," and it's a little embarrassing that I should have to explain that to someone who literally works in media.

I don't want you to quit media. I don't want you to shutter TYT. I REALLY don't want to watch the entire network turn into yet another outlet for centrist garbage or partisan cheerleading or--least of all--MAGA's endless stream of toxic waste. I don't want any of that, but I can't deny what my eyes are seeing or ears are hearing, and it looks and sounds like something in that vein is happening at TYT, and you and Ana, as the CEO and two most prominent anchors on the network, are at the center of it. You are the ones with the power to right this ship.

I'm still subscribed to the main TYT Youtube channel, and will continue to be for the forseeable future. I want to see you get better. I want to see this network go back to speaking truth to power, like it did when I first started watching in 2010. I'm stubbornly optimistic enough to believe you will, but even I have my limits. All I ask is that you step back for a moment, reflect on the direction TYT has been going these past few years, and ask yourself if this is really what's right--for yourself, for your company, and for all of us.

Happy Holidays. I hope to see you return in 2025 refreshed, energized, and with a clear view of your path ahead.

[real-hws-confessions]

man. i struggle to see veneziano as 100% lazy ngl; by that i mean. the way i see it, he became lazy later but didn't start out that eay. he was more of a hard worker as chibitalia and then as he grew older he just gave tf up

for clarity, i'm primarily looking at hetalia from a reader/watcher perspective rather than an irl history perspective

based on austria's occasional rough treatment with chibitalia (love him anyway), the way hungary was placed into a housewife role even though she originally fought when she was seen as a guy, and the fact that chibitalia was raised as a girl in the first place

it all leads me to thinking of veneziano as like. not handling the change in expectations well when he grew up??? sort of like how some adults expect kids to know what they're supposed to be doing with minimal/zero guidance (i'm only projecting a little bit)

so veneziano eventually loses the plot in 'how to conduct himself properly' and gives up. ah, whatever,,, who can keep track of all of that,,, he only starts trying again later

it's become especially harder for me to see feli as completely lazy now with the most recent gangsta chapter, since lovino snuck into his room and found it well-organized,,, the best take i've seen people have of gangsta!veneziano is 'this is feli without the main timeline's trauma' and it's stuck in my mind ever since. never got split from his brother, never had to deal with a multitude of traumatic events i.e his grandpa and first love both getting violent deaths, etcetera. willingly chose the brocon route. (i'm by and large a gerita truther, i just like that feli's most important person in gangsta is undoubtedly his brother,,,)

-

[pommunist]

Hello pommunist dot Tumblr dot com, I just wanted to say thank you for your posts! I may not agree with all of your perspectives but they are a very good source of differing views to keep my own bias in check. I always see you making sure that discussion stays overall respectful and that is very swag of you 👍 I come from an environment where it's very common for workers to be exploited in the ways that are relevant rn (as far as I know, all of my friends have been). I also, as a person, have a very hard time being angry or taking a strong stance against anything (the more I disagree with someone's actions, the harder I subconsciously try to empathize with them) so your expressions of outrage help me remember that things like this are not normal and should be fought against.

It's very hard for me to condemn any of the things that quackity or others involved with q studios have done. To be clear, I completely support the admins' rights to proper treatment and pay; it's just that I know that if I was in the place of those higher-ups/quackity, I would have made the same or very similar mistakes, so it feels very fallacious to hold them to higher standards than I would hold myself. Is this a strange or inappropriate position to hold? I just do not know how to flex my brain in the right way to look at qstudios as a 'corporate entity' rather than a 'collection of individuals.' That plus the fact that in my opinion, all these problems with the server's management are much easier to make than people (at least in my experience) want to think, and have a good chance of happening with any project just because communication is so inherently infallible and human nature is complicated.

Again, I do really appreciate your point of view and perspective. I just have a hard time truly understanding the more "zero-tolerance" approach to—well, to anything, but in this case to abuse of workers' rights. Would you be willing to explain more of your perspective? I really truly do want to understand better.

I hope you are having a good day/night, and that the tone of this does not come off as anything other than genuine. Lots of love! ❤️❤️

Hey anon !! First do not worry your message came off as nothing but genuine, no problem at all 🫶

Also I don’t think it’s strange or inappropriate for you to have the position you described in your ask ! I actually relate a lot to you saying you can have a hard time being angry at something because same, the more I analyse someone’s actions the more I tend to see their pov and empathise.

Also about holding yourself to a different standard if you were in their shoes, the question is : would you, in a similar scenario, have made decisions that would have put you in the same situation they are now ? Personally, I know that I don’t have the money, ressources or abilities to manage such a big project, so by realising it, I wouldn’t have gone through with it.

For the others things you brought up I’m gonna link you to a previous ask I answered, as well as to the very pertinent addition by @blockgamepirate to it, which I hope can bring some elements of answers to your questions.

And personally, there are many reasons I feel so strongly about the topic of workers rights. Them being that I just care about politics and have an interest in them, but also the current political climate of my own country and my personal background makes it that I kinda HAD to strongly make my mind on this topic. In this particular case it angers me even more because the admins were mostly young people, who had a great love and admiration for the project, and for the passion of young fans be taken advantage of is just heartbreaking.

I hope this was at least somewhat helpful, sending love back ♥️

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Oh look she’s Stanposting again.

Specifically in the vein of how every time I write him, he is the EPITOME of the inherently gentle character who is definitely CAPABLE of causing harm, but would never hurt a soul. Unless you hurt someone he cares about.

Especially when it comes to Kyle.

So here’s some of the lines I’ve written across various stories that reiterate that aspect of his personality, both his own thoughts and other people’s perspective of him.

Oh boy this is gonna be a doozy.

From The Webs In The Rafters:

•(Now, Stan was a gentle soul. Always had been, always would be. He never initiated conflict, saved the birds that flew into windows before Cartman’s cats could get to them, and played guitar for the cows they drove to the sale barn. He was a lover, not a fighter, but,

There was a singular exception.

When Kyle was hurt, his gentle nature flew out the window. He wanted to punish the person responsible. Stan clenched his fists so hard they could practically break stone, he shed angry tears, and he had to fight harder than ever to uphold his values. He didn’t like to cause harm, but those who harmed others deserved all the fucking harm he could deliver unto them.)

•(Kyle let out a long, breathy laugh. “Dude, be cool. And you wonder why Cartman calls you my guard dog.”)

•(It was terrifying to see. When a characteristically gentle person broke like that, the whole world seemed to shatter.)

•(Kyle practically read his mind. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

“With my bare fucking hands.”)

•(Stan was a real nice guy, but that only made it scarier when he actually got mad. Butters had known him for over half his life, but it would always be jarring to see his friend jump from his default state of gentility. When it came to Kyle, though, he was a wild card. It was terrifying.)

•(The man who did took another step toward the Spider, brandishing a two-by-four studded with nails like it was a sword. God, if Stan’s anger had been directed at him, Kenny would’ve withered where he stood, and he wasn’t one to back down easy. Apparently neither was Craig. He just…stood there, as Stan growled.)

From While The Dew Is Still On The Roses

•(“Drag him behind the fucking horses.”

The order shot a cold spear of dread into Kyle’s heart. His Stan wasn’t violent if it could be avoided. In the years since they had met, he hadn’t seen this side of him, or heard the curses of angered humans from him. He could feel his husband trembling, shaking in anger and fear as he held him.)

•(The door to the carriage opened, Stan wiping his bloodied knuckles off on his tunic. His eyes were dark, almost vacant until they settled on Kyle again.

“My- my dearest-“ the king croaked out, trying and failing to lift his head. “-what did you do?”)

•(Kyle looked Stan up and down, noting bruised knuckles. “Damien?”

“Is in the dungeons.” His husband finished. “There was some… questioning.”

He fought the instinct to sit up. “Did you kill him?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “What variety of creature do I portray? Of course I didn’t; that decision is yours and yours alone. You know me better than to jump to that conclusion, my love.”)

From And The Lightning Cracks The Sky

•(“Don’t you fucking touch him!”

Kyle was still at the apartment, right? This person couldn’t get to him. Then again, he HAD summoned magic fire that refused to be put out. Kyle wasn’t safe.

“Please.” Stan didn’t give a shit if he got incinerated. He just didn’t want the forests to suffer. Or Kyle.)

•(Stan. His gorgeous smokejumper with the heart of healing water to Kyle’s fire, scrambling up and coming to his defense despite being shell shocked at this scene. “This guy SHOT you?”)

From Reckless By Nature

•(Stan froze, spinning around with a clenched jaw and a murderous expression. “Cartman. Jar. Right the fuck now.”

“What? He’s not even here!”

“But I AM, and I maintain the right to enforce Jar Laws on his behalf.”)

•(Above all, if ed jokes got made, even though Kyle had been better for a long time and generally didn’t care, his relentlessly protective partner DID, and had enforced that amendment. That was a bad one. Kenny knew that if Stan would’ve been around, Cartman would’ve been in critical condition.)

From In The Truly Gruesome

•(Stan Marsh wasn’t a violent person. But nothing would compare to the world ending rage he’d fly into if he ever lost Kyle.)

Lmao I love how TWITR has the most in that genre of Staniel. To be fair, it WAS befitting of the situation.

So that’s today on Stanposting! I love that sweet boy!!!

[smilesrobotlover]

Ok fic time! This is a draft and I might change things around (some paragraphs do not vibe with me) but some people wanted to read it so we’ll see what happens!

So warnings in order of the fic: blood, there’s no major character death but it comes reeeeally close so look out for that, accidental self harm, bad times. It’s pretty heavy so keep that in mind

This is written in the perspective of Legend with Warriors and a bit of Sky :) me and @skyward-floored we’re talking about Legend and she was this awesome headcanon that legend faints at the sight of blood, and tbh I haven’t stopped thinking about that convo we had so this fic was greatly inspired by all of it !

Heart of a Bunny

Legend charged at the moblin standing in front of him, stabbing it straight to the chest. He, Warriors, and Sky were investigating a kidnapping of someone’s dog, who was taken by monsters. When they followed the trail to rescue the dog, they were ambushed by moblins, and they were strong. Strengthened by hatred, malice, and black blooded nonsense. Though it was hard, they needed to eradicate the monsters, and fast. The group of moblins were brutal, and they could turn to attacking towns if they weren’t all dead (and obviously they needed to save the dog). Legend looked over to his friends, and while they fought with the strength of a thousand men, Legend knew that they were just as tired as he was. Warriors’s swings were getting sluggish and more slow and Sky was panting something awful. But they seemed to be holding out on their own well enough, so Legend focused on himself.

Black blood was everywhere, on his clothes, on his face, in his hair, the smell filling his nostrils, but he ignored it and pushed forward. In situations like this, he can’t care. He doesn’t have time. He lobbed off a moblin’s head when he heard a yell come from Warriors. He turned and gasped at what Warriors was yelling at. Two moblins were holding Sky down, one had a knife pressed to his throat.

“No! Let him go!�� Legend yelled and ran forward, but Warriors stopped him.

“Don’t come any closer!” The moblin yelled back, pressing the knife harder against Sky, who let out a pained cry. Legend glared ahead, his heart pounding against his chest. These moblins were ruthless, he didn’t know what to do to get Sky out of that situation without him getting hurt.

“Let him go,” Warriors said before Legend could think of anything, putting his sword away.

“I said don’t come any closer!” The moblin screamed.

Warriors stopped moving and so did Legend. What could they do? He felt completely helpless. He was unable to fight Sky out of this, unable to talk Sky out of it, and Warriors was trying to help him, but any time he moved the moblins would freak out. They were too afraid to die, and that made them unpredictable.

“Please, let him go, we’ll do whatever you say,” Warriors lifted his hands to show that he was no threat, but he must’ve done it too quickly, and the moblins reacted.

Time seemed to slow down as the knife cut across Sky’s neck, blood immediately spilling out. Legend screamed out and Warriors was on the moblins in seconds, cutting them down. Legend ran to Sky who fell to the ground, grabbing his neck and sputtering as his blood poured out all over the ground. Legend tried to put pressure on his bleeding neck, but he didn’t know if he was choking Sky or if he was helping the bleeding. He needs a fairy or a potion, was the first thought he had, and with one hand, he grabbed his pack and started rummaging through it, desperate to find a red potion or a fairy or something. He dug through it frantically, his eyes growing blurry with tears, his throat dry from breathing so hard. But he felt nothing but empty bottles. He looked to Warriors in desperation.

“I don’t have a fairy!” He yelled, his voice cracking. Warriors turned to him and the situation dawned on him with Sky bleeding out. His face went from angry and determined to complete blankness as he killed the last moblin and dug through his own pack. He knelt at Sky’s side and silently searched, and searched, and searched.

Legend’s hand remained at Sky’s neck, trying so desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to pour out of his eyes. Warriors looked up from his pack, his expression more blank than ever, and Legend’s heart sank. They always have fairies on them, they always have red potions, how could they not have one when they needed one so desperately.

Sky made a gurgling noise and the two looked at him. It was almost silent as Sky bled out, Legend desperately trying to stop the bleeding. But Sky’s face paled, and he stopped breathing, his hands falling from his neck. Legend’s heart dropped to his stomach, and he got closer to his face, there was no air coming from his mouth, and he felt no pulse. No… no no please Hylia no…

“He-he’s—” Legend started, but was interrupted by a light. A fairy popped up out of nowhere and spun around Sky, followed by a gasp. Sky started coughing and sputtering, and Warriors immediately helped him up, making sure he was alright. Sky rubbed his bloody neck and took in a deep breath. There was no evidence of a slit throat save for the blood everywhere. He was alive.

A fairy… Sky had a fairy, and it saved his life. Legend felt dizzy from the relief and rested a hand on Sky’s shirt.

“I’m ok…” Sky gasped, “I’m ok… I’m ok…”

Warriors silently rubbed his back, a relieved smile on his previous blank expression. Legend rubbed his arm and tried to manage a smile, but he couldn’t. His heart was pounding, he felt heavy, and the memory of Sky bleeding out, them helpless to save him, kept flashing in his mind.

Bleeding out…

Legend glanced at the hand that was rubbing Sky’s arm, and noticed the blood he was smearing. He frowned and looked at his other hand that was clenched on his knees. That was covered in blood too, spreading it all over his bare legs.

Suddenly it hit him. The metallic smell of blood, Sky’s blood, filled his nostrils. The black blood all over his clothes, mixed in with the red blood from Sky. his pack was covered in it, his clothes, goddesses, it was everywhere. It was all over Sky, it was getting on Warriors…

Legend suddenly felt incredibly nauseous and dizzy. He pulled away from Sky and shut his eyes tight. Not now… not now in front of them, not now.

“Legend are you alright?” Warriors asked, his arms still around Sky.

He didn’t say anything. The blood was all over him and he needed it off. His hands started shaking as he stared at Sky’s blood. It was always someone else’s blood.

“Legend I’m ok,” Sky said softly, his voice sounding hoarse and shaky, but Legend barely heard him.

An unpleasant memory flooded his mind. His hands covered in someone else’s blood, the dying breaths of someone he loved, the disgusting smell, the stickiness on his fingers, his uncle’s dying words.

Legend let out a whimper and shot right up, trying to walk away despite his shaking legs.

“I’m gonna be right back,” he whispered, only for his vision to get covered in black spots, and he felt himself falling, miles and miles until he hit the ground.

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

The water was cold against Legend’s hands as he scrubbed them with a rag, making sure every bit of it was clean. He took time scraping under his fingernails, scrubbing between his fingers, clearing out his cuticles, and rubbing his hands against the rag.

Around him was his scattered belongings. The things in his pack were thrown carelessly out, washed clean, his empty pack laid by his belt, also washed clean, his clothes were sopping wet, but at least they were clean. Now Legend just needed to be clean.

He scrubbed some more, staring at his hands after a moment, then going back to scrubbing. He couldn’t see anymore blood, but he still felt it. The memory of them covered in blood, the stickiness, the smell, it hasn’t gone away. So he kept scrubbing, and scrubbing, and scrubbing.

His hands hurt from the coarse rag, but it needed to be there to get the blood off. It had to. Until Legend noticed how dirty the rag was, and he noticed a hint of red in the fabric. He threw the rag at the forest and went back to scrubbing his hands without it. He now needed the rag’s filth off.

He pulled them out of the water and noticed his knuckles were spotty with blood. He was causing his hands to bleed, but he put them back in the water and went back to scrubbing. And scrubbing, and scrubbing, and scrubbing.

He pulled his hands out again and they were still bleeding. He put them back in the water and scrubbed some more. He pulled them back out and they continued to bleed. He put them back, a sob escaping him. He knew he was being ridiculous. He would stop bleeding if he stopped scrubbing, but it needed to be gone, he needed it to be gone.

He went back to scraping under his fingernails, letting out a hiss of pain when he cut too deep, causing under his fingernail to bleed.

More blood.

He didn’t notice the tears falling down his face as he went back to scrubbing. It had to be gone, it had to be gone.

“Legend.”

The veteran flinched and whipped his head to where the voice was. Warriors was standing there, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes had a hint of worry. Legend sucked in a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes with his shoulder.

“What do you want?” He asked in a low, shaky voice.

“You’ve been out here for a while, are you ok?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Now leave me alone,” he said, ignoring how cruel he’s being. He stared hard at his hands in the water, hoping that Warriors would leave, but he wouldn’t. He felt his gaze like the sun in the desert, and the pressure was starting to annoy him. He glanced at him, and Warriors hadn’t moved.

“What?”

“Look, we almost lost Sky. I can’t imagine that you’re feeling ‘fine’.”

Legend glared at him. He knew that he didn’t look fine. His hands were bleeding, his stuff was scattered all over the place, hot tears were streaming down his face, but he looked away and ignored him. It was humiliating enough for them to see him pass out over blood, they didn’t need to see him having a breakdown.

He heard footsteps come closer and he spun around and backed away.

“I’m fine captain! Leave me alone!”

“You’re not fine!”

“Yes I am!”

“Why won’t you just accept my help?”

“BECAUSE I’M FINE!” Legend screamed, he stood up and marched over to his stuff. He shivered harshly as a breeze blew by and Legend realized that he was freezing, with his hands numb from pain and from the cold water. He needed to warm them up, but they were still bleeding, he couldn’t put them anywhere without spreading more of the blood…

“Legend, it’s ok–”

“Where is Sky?” He cut him off, hoping to change the subject off of him. After all Sky was the one who almost died, he should be the one coddled, not Legend.

Warriors sucked in a frustrated breath. “He’s back at camp, the others found us, he’s fine. And so is the dog.”

Legend would’ve let out a laugh if he didn’t feel so awful. He felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder and he flinched away.

“Legend please, let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You’re bleeding and you’re cold.”

Legend ignored him again and walked closer to his stuff, pretending to be doing something.

“Legend, what’s wrong?”

The veteran started shaking again, the tears were completely uncontrollable, his breathing was fast, and he gripped his arms so tight, it might’ve drawn blood. Just what he needed, he thought bitterly

“Hey,” Warriors tried again, “You’re hurting yourself buddy… come on, let me help you.”

“No,” Legend whispered. “No, I don’t want you to see me like this…”

His voice didn’t have snark hidden within it this time, and there was silence except for Legend’s heavy breathing.

“Why do you not want me to see you like this?”

“Because!” His voice started to raise again, the moment of vulnerability gone. He turned and faced Warriors, “Look at me! I’m a mess! I’m the worst hero to ever live!”

“No you’re no–”

“YES I AM! Don’t lie to me to make me feel better because I am! I can’t handle anything! If something goes wrong I completely LOSE IT! I HATE MYSELF FOR IT!” He was screaming now, his hands gripping his hair. “I can’t handle anything difficult! I pass out at the sight of blood, what kind of a hero passes out because of blood? I just– I’m terrible! I’m terrible at protecting people and I’m not strong and I—” His breath hitched and he looked at Warriors who was sitting there, staring at him. His face was expressionless, and rage started to build up within Legend. “You don’t realize how good you have it captain,” he spat, venom dripping in every word.

Warriors eyebrows raised at that. “How do I have it good?”

“Nothing bothers you! Nothing ever bothers you! When Sky was dying, I was a mess! But you, you were collected! You were calm! You don’t let things like that bother you! And I wish I was like you for that! I wish I didn’t care like you!”

Grief suddenly gripped at his heart. He wished he didn’t care. He wished he didn’t care so damn much. He’s lost so many people in his life, he’s experienced so many hard things and it never made him stronger. It never made him tough, it was a flaw within him that he let so many things get to him but he just can’t help it. He let out a sob, vulnerability washing over him. He was wishing so desperately that he could hear his uncle’s voice again, wishing that he could hear Marin sing again, wishing that he didn’t feel this pain, wishing that Warriors wasn’t here to see how truly pathetic he is. He fell to the ground sobbing, wishing so desperately that he’d stop but he couldn’t. His hands were clenched against his chest, his heart in pain, his head pounding, his hands rubbed raw, tears pouring out of his eyes. He felt like he was falling to pieces.

“I wish I was like you,” he repeated, voice trembling.

He hiccuped and opened his eyes, surprised when Warriors silently sat in front of him. He slowly reached for Legend’s hands, and when Legend didn’t fight back, he observed them. Then without saying anything, he grabbed a bandage and started wrapping them up, slowly and gently. Legend’s crying slowed down as he watched Warriors. His face was almost expressionless, but a hint of pain laid within it as he tended to Legend’s self-inflicted injuries. He wrapped up his knuckles and quickly moved onto his bleeding finger, and though he hated being taken care of, Legend didn’t have the strength to stop him. He moved onto his bleeding arms and started to wrap those up as well.

“It’s funny,” he muttered, breaking the silence, “how you wish to be like me… When I wish to be like you.”

Legend’s breathing slowed and he stared back confused.

“I wish I cared like you Legend. I’ve seen so much death, so many friends die in front of me, and when we bury them… they deserve tears to be shed for them… but I can’t muster up anything. I feel like I fail them for that.”

Legend continued to stare at him, he’s never seen Warriors like this, so serious and open. The captain finished wrapping up one arm and went to the other one.

“I don’t feel anything when death is about to claim people I care about. It’s happened so much, and I wish that I didn’t feel so damn empty when it happens.”

His voice was soft, filled with regret and sorrow, and when he finished Legend’s other arm, he looked directly into his bloodshot eyes, a stern look on his face. Legend looked down where his hands laid, bandaged and held in Warrior’s hands. His breathing started to slow down as he contemplated Warrior’s words.

“Never stop feeling Legend, never stop crying for others. For people like me can’t do it ourselves.”

Legend looked up at Warriors, this time a pained look on the captain’s face. Warriors always annoyed him, he was so perfect all the time, so aloof, so bossy. He had everything Legend wanted… but he realizes now how much he had that Warrior’s didn’t have. He never realized that Warriors felt this way, and suddenly clarity entered within him. Remembering Warriors’s blank stare as Sky bled out in front of them, a somber but stone face as Twilight was slowly dying from the shadow’s curse, an empty look when he takes care of someone’s wounds. It was all because he’s been so hardened from the death he’s seen, to the point where he can’t bring himself to feel anymore when he should. That never happened to Legend. It’s only made him more emotional and soft.

“All bark and no bite?” Twilight’s words echoed in his mind, when he was turned into his stupid bunny form. It was humiliating, but it was a true reflection of his heart. He always saw it as his major flaw, and no matter how hard he tried, he always had the heart of a bunny. But now…

Legend pursed his lips and slowly rested his head against Warrior’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, and he felt Warriors wrap his arms around him. They sat there for a long time, Warriors holding Legend as he cried into his scarf. It felt nice… freely crying in front of someone. Because for the first time, he felt no shame in doing it.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Not me banging out 1k of fic in the bathtub because someone *side-eyes @cruelfeline* decided to have Frey and Cuff Thoughts™

Anyway, rough draft below the cut

"I have... a question," Susurrus said, hesitant only because he was certain Frey would mock him relentlessly for this one. But it had been eating at him for some time, inevitable and persistent as acid, and he couldn't stand to let this one go unanswered any longer. 

"What's up?" Frey asked, her deft and nimble fingers working on the repair of torn embroidery on one of Prav's old cloaks.

"What does 'home' entail?"

He felt the jolt of surprise that faltered her hands, and she stuck the needle through the cloth to hold it in place. "Excuse me?"

"When you speak of 'home,' what does that... mean, exactly? You make it seem as if 'home' is more than simply your current place of residence."

"I mean... that's kind of what it is?" Frey's confusion swirled between them, not yet the rapid dervish he'd often teased her into. Susurrus thought on his next words, chose them carefully so that she might better understand his own confusion. He wanted answers, after all; further stirring her roiling thoughts and emotions would get him nowhere in this endeavor.

"Well, I suppose. But if that's all a home is, then it could be anywhere. Anything. And change at any time. The refuge we come back to every night while surveying the Break would be 'home' in that case, yes?"

And if home was nothing more than that, then it stood to reason that for Susurrus, Frey was his home. He resided in her body, after all. 

"Uh, I guess?" Frey said, and his choice of words had the opposite intended effect. Rather than clear her confusion, he'd made it worse. Perhaps that was to be expected, when he was the one seeking knowledge and an explanation from her. The reversal of roles had likely thrown her off balance in the first place. "What are you getting at, Cuff?"

How could he explain it? The adrift feeling he'd been suffering lately, the nebulous disquiet in the back of his mind. How the memory of untethered flight warped and twisted into something he no longer recognized, something fragile and unstable without a foundation beneath it. For now the world held steady around him, but any disruption could blow him wildly off course, dash him into the jagged rocks of uncertainty and doubt. Already he flew too close to them, and the harder he fought to keep himself aloft, the greater his fatigue grew. 

"I suppose it's not important," he said in an effort to deflect, but that deflection proved an anchor for Frey's thoughts and doubts to seize onto, and she did. 

"You sure? Then why'd you bring it up?"

Susurrus sighed and chose not to answer, hoped she would let the subject fall. He knew she wouldn't, but she had surprised him on occasion, and he dared to hope—

Frey's answering sigh told him his hope was in vain. "You're right, there's more to home than just where you live. Or there's supposed to be, anyway. Home is where you feel safe. Not just from monsters, but from everything."

"So you feel safe back on Earth?" Susurrus asked, mulling this information over in his thoughts. It certainly put her single-minded drive to return in perspective. 

"Ha, not really." Whatever humor that short clip of a laugh held was tainted with a bitterness Susurrus knew all too well. "Felt safer than here at first, but... I dunno. It's hard to put into words."

"I understand," Susurrus said, allowed his tone to come across as gentle and reassuring. He assumed the conversation was done, and for several long moments it seemed he was correct. But Frey drummed her fingers against the workbench, and though Susurrus could not read her thoughts, he could feel them.

"There's a saying we have back on Earth," she said, softly. "I don't know if you have it here, but... it goes 'home is where the heart is.' Kind of ironic that I never really got what that meant until you went all apocalypse and tried to destroy everything."

"Just Cipal," he protested, unsure if he was joking or not. 

"Yeah, well. Turns out Cipal's where my heart is."

Susurrus scoffed, more in amusement than mockery. "How cloyingly poetic."

"It's not just Cipal, though. Never thought I'd love Athia as much as I do, but pretty much everywhere feels like home now."

"Even when you're getting chewed on by monsters?"

Frey laughed a little. "Maybe not then. But watching the sunset in Praenost, or Gliding over the waters in Avoalet, chasing the wind in Visoria... I don't think I'm ever as much at home as I am when I'm out here, you know?"

Unfortunately, he didn't. And therein lied his confusion. 

"What of Junoon?" he asked, more to get her to talk and give himself time to think than out of genuine curiosity. But she went quiet, likely considering his question and her own emotions on the matter.

"Huh. I might have to take it back that Cipal's where my heart is. Junoon feels more like home than anywhere else in Athia."

Interesting. "Is it because you were born there?" Susurrus asked. 

"I dunno. Maybe. It's just... there's something comforting about Junoon. The trees, the gardens, the rivers and the wind. Whenever we go there, it's like the very air is telling me that's where I belong."

Belong? Something about that word resonated with Susurrus, put some of his nebulous thoughts and emotions into a context he hadn't considered before. He understood belonging, though he'd never felt it. 

No... No, he had felt it. Only once, crisp and clear, but as a nebulous, ephemeral emotion behind his every thought ever since.

Ever since Frey had bound him to herself, since he'd come home to roost in the crooks of her soul.

"Ah," he said as this epiphany washed over him. "I'm afraid I can't relate."

Because home to him had never been a place. It truly was Frey. It always had been. 

[system-to-the-madness]

Chances - Inui Magoroku x Reader

Pairing: Inui Magoroku x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Word Count: 3 051 Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend Magoroku, you return to K to help Kai and Gaku one last time A/N: I know this will literally get no notes, but I’m gonna post it anyway.

“You’ve changed, Kai.”

Leaning against the doorframe, just outside of view, you sighed quietly. Your uniform felt so familiar around your body, comfortingly tight in just the right places but still leaving enough space to move freely and elegantly. You had gotten so used to this uniform, so used to standing right outside of this door, listening for the orders to be called, that it was hard to believe this might never happen again. It was even harder to believe Magoroku wasn’t standing in the kitchen.

The sound of footsteps made you perk up, and you pushed away from the doorframe as you saw Hotei, Pena, Mingjen and Jorudan cross through the room, heading straight for the kitchen.

“Are they in there,” Hotei asked, and you nodded curtly, before the four men brushed past you. Magoroku was not with them. Of course he was not. He probably was half-way back to Kyoto by now. Your heart sank in your chest, as you turned and followed the chefs into the kitchen, a kitchen that felt painfully devoid of life without Magoroku.

“Kai! Are you okay?” Hotei stopped a respectful distance away from the former head chef.

He looked pale now, you noted, weak, as he was leaning against the table. His eyes scanned over everyone for a moment before he averted them.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Hotei admitted, as your own eyes began wandering through the room, stopping at the stove Magoroku had always used the most often.

It felt wrong standing here without him now. Maybe it had been a cruel thought, that you and he would not have lasted forever no matter what would have happened. After all, you were still young; you had begun dating when you had only been twenty. To think you would stay together forever had always been an illusion, these thoughts that you could see yourself marrying him had been nothing but hormone induced trickery of your brain, right?

Still, you hadn’t expected it to end the way it had. Had it even ended? Wasn’t it normal for couples to fight? The two of you never had fought before, you didn’t know.

Sure, you understood his perspective, why he hadn’t wanted to come back to K, but why hadn’t he paid you the same respect of at least trying to understand why you wanted to come back to K and serve one last time under Kai and Gaku? Instead, his insistence on you deserving more had made you so upset, that you had ended up leaving the café you had sat in together.

He hadn’t come home that night, and since his plans were to head back to Kyoto, you weren’t sure he ever was going to come back either. Why hadn’t he been able to understand that the reward of helping your friends out one last time was more important than the risk of getting your trust broken again?

Wasn’t this what you had been doing for him too, again and again? Fought through both of your stress induced annoyances, giving each other chances, even when you were exhausted and hurt from words spoken thoughtlessly? Why hadn’t he been able to understand, that you wanted to do the same for Kai and Gaku, too?

Having spaced out, you only snapped back into the moment, when your (former?) boyfriend's name got mentioned.

“You should thank Magoroku,” Hotei told Gaku.

“Huh?” The young man’s eyes flickered over the staff as if looking for his friend, before coming back to Hotei.

“We’re only here,” explained Renna, “because Magoroku persuaded us.”

Confused you looked over to her. Magoroku had persuaded them to come back? After all he had said to you last night? After all the things he had said that he had seemed so convinced off when you had talked to him last? When had he gone to see them? After you had left him in anger and disappointment?

“Magoroku,” Gaku asked perplexed.

But if Magoroku had convinced the others to come back, then why-

“Despite that, why isn’t he here,” Mingjen asked, phrasing the question that had popped in your own head.

“Maybe- Kyoto,” Pena suggested, making your heart sink.

“Too bad,” Jorudan sighed.

“Ne, (y/n), where is he,” Hotei asked.

You shook your head. “I- I don’t know. We had a fight, yesterday. Because I wanted to come back, at least for this last night, but he wouldn’t understand why. I left and- he must have come to search for you all afterwards. He didn’t come home…”

“Sorry, I’m late!”

The familiar voice of your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) along with his fast-approaching steps sent a dagger through your heart. So he had come after all? You watched with bated breath as he came running into the kitchen, still tying the apron behind his neck.

“What about Kyoto,” Renna asked, as Magoroku’s eyes met anyone’s but yours.

“The bullet train was so crowded…”

You stared at him with his cheap excuse, the way his soft-brown dyed hair framed his face so gently. Looking at him hurt. Not because of the way it hurt how he had treated you, but because you knew how hard it must have been for him to come back here after all that had happened.

And he still had done it.

Any other day you would have walked over to him and squeezed his hand quickly, the way you had done so often over the past months while Gaku had begun losing sight of the team. Some nights it felt like this quick gesture was the only thing that held him together. But now you couldn’t do that. He might not want you to do it.

“Kai,” Magoroku turned to the former chef. “Long time no see.”

“A long time,” Kai nodded, and you couldn’t help but feel relief at the way they were looking at one another, both simply being glad that they got to be here together. Couldn’t this be enough for tonight? Just being here, with everyone, the way it used to be, even if Magoroku and you weren’t what you used to be?

Suddenly Gaku shot forward, engulfing Magoroku in a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Magoroku,” the younger man grinned.

“That hurts, Gaku,” Magoroku complained, but you heard the smile in his voice as he patted the other man’s back.

“Kai-san!” Suddenly the other waiters stepped through the door.

So, you were all together again, really all of you. The way it used to be, the way you had wished it would be again. For one last time you would all work together to create an unforgettable culinary experience. You would try to make every second of it count.

“This is fun,” Kai smiled.

When had been the last time he had called working with everyone ‘fun’? You couldn’t remember. Had he ever?

“Okay then,” Hotei decided. “Let’s get started.”

Kai sighed, rubbing his face, and got up from where he had sat on his chair in front of everyone, but Gaku stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Kai-san. Please stay here,” he insisted, and gently guided him to sit back down. “I’ll do the finishing.”

A tingling at the side of your head alarmed you to someone watching you. Looking up, you found Magoroku quickly turning his head away.

It had always been like that before you had started seeing each other two years ago, even back in Kyoto, when you had still worked for his father, before Kai had recruited you into his team. He had always stared at you, as if he couldn’t get enough of seeing you.

You had gotten used to it, over the course of your relationship with him, his eyes finding you and following you in every room you stepped into together, unless he was cooking. His attention always seemed to be so focused on you, and you liked that it gave you an excuse to watch him too, the way he always moved so elegantly while unaware that he was being watched, and turning clumsy and bashful as soon as he noticed your eyes on him. Even two years of dating, one and a half years of living together, had not changed that.

Now his eyes were averted from yours, focusing on Gaku instead, who stepped away from Kai’s side and joined the team of chefs, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over to you again.

“But,” Kai continued, “from there, please give us instructions. Like back then.”

At Kai’s exhale, you focused back on him, fully aware that Magoroku’s eyes snapped back to you the moment yours left him. Kai smiled and took a deep breath before looking up.

“We have one guest today,” he spoke, his voice loud and clear, powerful, the same way you had always known it to be. His little speeches before starting the work were what settled you into work-mode, and even though it had been a year since his voice had last sounded through the kitchen this clearly, it felt like it had only been yesterday, and habitually you straightened your posture and stood up straighter. “We will serve him an appetizer in five minutes. Soup in ten.” The whole team straightened up with you, expectantly shifting their weight from one leg to the other. “Fish in 17.” Kai slapped the surface of the table before standing up. “Meat in 24. Let’s give him perfect and efficient service.”

“Oui!”

The single word spoken from everyone in unison made your heart soar. This was what you had missed. Sure, it was sad that things here would come to an end, but at least you got the chance to say goodbye to your life at K properly this time.

Everyone moved to work immediately, and you, too, took your position behind the counter, ready to receive the first plate to serve.

Just a few minutes later, as expected of the perfectly coordinated team at K, Gaku pushed the plate with the appetizer over to you.

“Gaku,” Kai spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll go.”

“Are you sure,” Gaku asked, making you hesitate to pick up the plate.

“Yes,” Kai answered with determination, and you stepped back from the counter, giving him better access to the plate.

He also continued serving the other dishes, while you stood at the doorway between the guest hall and the kitchen, half of your attention in either room; ready to cater to any demand Shibuya-san had but also keeping an eye on Magoroku.

He still had not met your eyes directly, heightening your anxiety by the minute. Of course, you knew he was working right now, and didn’t have time to think about anything other than the food in front of him, and you weren’t asking him to do anything different. But you still felt the since last night increasing urge to just walk up to him, grab his face and kiss him, tell him, show him, that you still wanted to be with him. The fact that you couldn’t was not as terrorizing as the idea that he might reject that confession. How had you gone from convinced you would marry him eventually to scared of asking for a kiss in less than a day?

And before you knew it, it was time to serve the main course.

“It’s almost time, isn't it,” Renna sighed, as the chefs gathered around the counter, watching Gaku finish the last plate.

“But he hasn’t said a single word…” Magoroku added, still not meeting your eyes. You felt sick at the thought that maybe it really was over.

Gaku stood back up straight, his entire focus on Kai as he announced: “It’s done” and pushed the plate over to him.

With one last look at Gaku, Kai grabbed the plate and left the kitchen, the other chefs following him. You were about to join them outside, when suddenly a hand closed around your wrist, holding you back.

Surprised you looked over your shoulder, staring straight into the familiar deep brown eyes of Magoroku.

“Wait,” he asked, his voice heavy and pleading.

Turning around to him fully, you couldn’t help the way your heart suddenly started hammering in your chest. What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you what you had suspected he might do the whole time since you had left yesterday, tell you it was over?

Inquisitively you tilted your head at him, trying to read his thoughts through those eyes you knew so well. A crease had formed on his forehead, and he looked pained. Slowly his hand slipped away from your wrist, the lack of his warmth leaving a cold shadow on your skin.

“Can we talk,” he asked, his voice low.

“We should join the others-”

“I’ll make it quick?”

The way he looked at you, it was easy to tell how much courage it had taken him to approach you. If you walked away now, there was a chance he would never talk to you again, and you would forever be left in the knowledge that you hadn’t been strong enough to face the pain of losing the first person you had ever truly loved.

When you didn’t turn away, Magoroku took in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, for what I said yesterday,” he confessed. “I was so worried about you getting hurt again by Gaku and Kai that I didn’t realise that I was hurting you, too. I thought a lot about what you said, that to you it was more important to help your friends one last time than to be disappointed. And I realised the same was true for me, too. I should have had more trust in you knowing what you need to do for yourself. Please forgive me.”

You bit your lip.

“Why did you come here? Just to please me?”

“No,” Magoroku answered, “I came because my friends needed my help. I was scared of meeting you here, because I wasn’t sure if you’d be angry at me, but I decided helping Kai and Gaku was more important.”

“I understand,” you sighed, and took a step forward. “And I forgive you. I was upset that you didn’t seem to try to understand my point of view, but I never wanted to lose you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” Magoroku shook his head, taking your hands in his. They were bigger than yours, warm, a little rough from his hard work every day, and still a little wet from when he had washed his hands not even minutes prior.

At his gentle touch and his reassuring words, you felt your throat close up, a telltale sign that you were about to cry. In the middle of a Michelin-star kitchen of all places.

“I was so worried when you didn’t come home,” you admitted, and quickly Magoroku pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear as your arms wrapped around his familiar body. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

For a few moments you stood like that, just holding each other, ignoring the rest of the world around you.

“Are you still coming back to Kyoto with me,” Magoroku asked eventually, pulling away enough to be able to look at your face.

Quickly you nodded. “I want to, yes. Does this mean that we’re good? I don’t want to lose you.”

Magoroku smiled a sad smile before he nodded. “I told you, you’re not gonna lose me. Not this easily anyway.” He shifted around for a moment, his usual sign that he was nervous about something before he repeated. “You’re not gonna lose me. You’re the best thing that has happened in my life in a very long time and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Confused you watched him, as he pulled one of his hands away from your waist where it had rested and reached into one of his pockets.

“I wanted to ask you this a long time ago, but it never seemed to be the right moment. It took me a while to realise the best moment is always the present, so I’m telling you again: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if you feel the same…” He trailed off, instead raising a delicate ring between the two of you, which he had pulled from his pocket. But you couldn’t even be bothered to look at the ring, instead staring into his black eyes. They were darker than space and you knew if you kept eye contact with him too long, you’d get lost in them, forgetting everything that had been going on. So instead you cupped his face and pulled him into a soft kiss, into which he melted immediately, his lips warm against yours as he kissed back without urgency.

“I also want to spend the rest of my life with you,” you whispered into the kiss, feeling more than seeing the smile that spread over his face before he leant in and kissed you again, while taking your hand and slipping the ring over your finger. It was only after a few minutes of soft and gently exchanged kisses, that he eventually pulled away.

“Let’s go look for the others,” he suggested, taking your hand in his and together you walked out of the kitchen to see what Shibuya-san had to say about the main course the team had created for him.

As you left the kitchen for the last time, you quickly glanced back over your shoulder. When you first had stepped in there, you had thought your path was clear before you: work for Kai and eventually get over your crush on Magoroku. It was incredible, how much had changed since then. Now your path seemed rather hazy, going back to Kyoto, working in Magoroku’s father’s restaurant together with him. But beyond that? What would come after? Would there be an after? It didn’t matter, not really. Whatever came next, you would face it the same way you had faced every other change and challenge so far. And from now on you wouldn’t have to do it alone anymore, the warm hand engulfing yours reminded you; you and Magoroku would face any challenge together.

[corellianhounds]

Character Revision for Anakin Skywalker

Word Count: 933

Anakin would have been a stronger character within the story if he was the one driving a bigger part of the narrative instead of everything happening to him.

I think I would have found him a lot more compelling if he’d been more like Boromir in Lord of the Rings, someone whose ambition, courage, determination, and love for the people he fought for made him decisive, strategic, driven, stubborn, and cunning. A man with his military career and reasonable justifications for the decisions he’s willing to make on behalf of the greater good is going to be much more inclined toward exploring any and every option he thinks will benefit them in battle, leading him to give into the temptation of a powerful force he thinks he can control that will ultimately consume him and lead to his downfall. Instead of the Ring it’s the Dark side.

In a world where Anakin was driving his own story, the audience would see someone influenced by the sway of the Dark side because he sees the genuine potential and opportunities it provides, and his genuine care for the greater good is exhibited by his swift, ruthless, and decisive military actions during the war that, when examined or criticized by others, he is able to reasonably justify and defend. Everybody around him has a much harder time arguing against the good he does and the perspective he’s coming from. Ruthless does not necessarily mean evil— It means the most efficient route from point A to point B. To Anakin, the end justifies the means. Show us a powerful person with an ambiguous morality who truly had the potential and desire to do so much good, and see what happens when he’s subtly influenced by the wrong ideologies for long enough and has had access to that kind of power/influence from the beginning

This changed characterization means that while Anakin is noble, courageous, and loved by the masses, his flaws are hidden but never fully gone, and his skill and efficiency make him an invaluable asset to the war in ways that naturally get people’s attention. Show us what he’s like with civilians and his men and people in the temple. Add to that his prowess on the battlefield and unparalleled displays of the Force the Jedi council hasn’t seen or heard of in centuries and you’ve shown the audience a truly exceptional Jedi Knight the council will have concerns about in the middle of a war where there’s already so many gray decisions about no-win scenarios being made

Make him someone regular people like. As well-loved as Boromir, a knight of the people, the stalwart defense willing to fight on the very front line, hailed as a hero and truly believed to be the Chosen One who will lead the people to victory. He’s admirable. His bouts of anger or sullen moods or argumentative nature gets overlooked or forgiven because he made up for it in those other areas, and the older he gets the better he is at concealing his flaws. 

Add to that that they were in a war— Give him the chance to make the hard military decisions other Jedi won’t and blame him for things politicians need a scapegoat for. Have him take a lot of the heat for things that either weren’t his fault or are being twisted out of proportion and stoke that anger he has smoldering behind the mask. Make him frustrated and calculating with his own actual concrete objectives, and when Palpatine lays the groundwork for Anakin to choose the Dark side himself, the people in Anakin’s life can only see when they look back that there was more evidence of him purposefully testing the waters than they realized

He has that pride. That arrogance. Thinks that a certain power can’t be all that bad if it was used by the “right” person. Used in the “right” hands.

The Dark side is enticing because it offers you what your selfish heart desires: the ability to control what you can’t on your own, the ability to compel others how you see fit, the ability to exact the kind of revenge your enemies deserve. It gives you power to control the unpredictability of life, and death.

He doesn’t delve into it often. Doesn’t explicitly use the darkest side of the Force. Just… dabbles in it. Experiments. Seeks out the information Palpatine lays a trail for. The kinds of powers and techniques that are considered gray areas by the Jedi because the Jedi know how easy it is to succumb to their sway

He’s not evil. Not yet.

But he’s smart, ambitious, strong-willed, tactically-motivated, and now he has access to power that can and inevitably will corrupt.

Have this capable, intelligent, efficient tactician make purposeful decisions towards his own selfish, possessive goals and you have the most dangerous man in the galaxy turned enemy and foot soldier of a Sith. His character would have been stronger, more complex, and more sympathetic, and in the end it would have been much more tragic to see his betrayal because the powerful, evil force that controls and extorts him is a result of his own choice to use it for himself, despite the fact he actually could have risen above it

Instead, this Anakin kills Mace Windu of his own accord. This Anakin helps orchestrate the attack on the temple. This Anakin really does think “If you’re not with me, you’re against me.”

Hubris at its very finest. That is the basis for a truly tragic fall from grace.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

AH I JUST GOT TO THE PART WHERE HE ASKED HER TO MARRY HIM !!! you really delivered with the happy ending 🫡 while i was reading these recent chapters i was thinking about how far they have come 😭 i literally remember finding this story when the first chapter had just come out and it makes me so happy with all the character growth and how the relationships between rinko and everyone (not just gojo but a lot gojo) have progressed. i have a little bit left of Another Level and Im so excited to start your other works.

your mind >>>>>

also, congrats on the new job!! and i do hope that the days do get easier. life is definitely rough at times but atleast from the way you write your characters and their values, i believe you are a good person and that things work out for good people. i hope this little corner of the internet that you have created can continue to be a positive for you through the days that are harder. sincerely rooting for u <3

-(ง'̀-'́)ง

AHHHHHH. IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT 🥹😭😭 I’ll share a fun fact about All That I Am Is Yours: I originally had it as All That I Am (Is Yours) but I didn’t want to give the impression that it was from Gojo’s perspective after how I’d titled (Please) Prove Me Wrong.

BUT HERE WE ARE. I CANT BELIEVE ITS BEEN SIX MONTHS SINCE I FINISHED ANOTHER LEVEL. ITS BEEN ALMOST A YEAR SINCE I STARTED WRITING IT.

I RANTED SO ITS BELOW THE CUT 🙃

The character development and the relationship development over the course of the series was so fun. It was just so beautiful and wonderful. Rinko and Gojo were beautiful, but I honestly enjoyed the development of Rinko and Megumi’s relationship because him going from immediately snapping “SHES NOT MY MOM” to “you raised me” was so endearing and sweet.

Thank you so much for your kind words 🥹 I do try very hard to be a good person. I’ve said a few times that I wrote more of myself into Rinko than I originally meant to when it came to her weaknesses, but many of her strengths are ones I wish I had. I wish I was as strong as she is.

Something my best friend and I were talking about recently was that I’m not sure if I’d have been able to find the strength to get through this if I hadn’t started writing Another Level. I needed Rinko. She stood up for herself and spoke her mind in situations where I’ve never been able to. But really, it was how I wrote her relationship with Gojo that opened my eyes. I wrote their relationship the way I wished mine was. The true, mutual respect that they have for each other. The fact that Gojo never belittled her and that he worked to fix his mistakes. That when they fought, they both admitted their faults in the end and worked to make sure they didn’t make the same mistakes again. The trust that they have for each other. I realized those were all things I desperately craved in my own relationship that were woefully absent.

That being said, the praise I got for Another Level also came during a time when I hadn’t received any for anything in so long. I was berated at work, and I was berated at home. I wasn’t allowed to be proud of myself for anything. Every achievement was too small to be proud of in everyone else’s eyes. So when the comments came in, when complete strangers began complimenting my writing and my storytelling when others never cared, it pulled me out of the pit in more ways than I could ever say.

Thank you again for being part of our lil corner and for rooting for me 💕💕 I hope you’re well!!!