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angstyaches · 2 years ago

Note

couldn't resist sending you a few prompts from that list, what yummy dialogue!! i'd love to see some sick Donnacha and caretaker Henry (i adore their dynamic, it soothes my soul) maybe using "you're still alive, right?" and "shit, i've never been this sick in my life." i'm also fond of "i hid the car keys. you're. staying. home." but tbh flick everything you write is pure gold so please go for whatever prompts tickle your fancy <3

Anon asked:

yay! i wasn’t sure if you were so i didn’t want to make a request without checking first. from the question ideas #15 post that you reblogged, would you be interested in writing something for donnacha around the “bad day?” prompt? i’m kinda obsessed with the platonic caretaking between him and henry. i’m also really interested to know if donnacha will continue to explore his sexuality beyond his kiss with henry (without actually involving henry in the experimentation) and how any potential realizations will make him feel

Quotes are from this prompt list.

Thank you for the opportunity to expand upon Donnacha's bisexual journey because I've actually wanted to do that for ages.

CW: anxiety, slight (bisexual) panic, coming out, nausea, stomach ache, emeto, platonic caretaking, implied potential sc*t,

Word Length: fucking long.

___

11:36pm

When he walked through the hallway and into the living room at this hour, he didn’t expect to find the room filled with basically everybody he knew – besides his family and his rugby mates.

Donnacha froze, feeling like he’d just stepped off a plane. Or a merry-go-round. Somewhere he didn’t quite feel like himself, where the rules of life sort of went out the window, and existence itself shifted a little bit.

All the nerves and adrenaline and sparkly feelings that had filled his night all left him at the same time, dumping him right back in the thick of reality.

His stomach took a particularly low dip as he noticed Payton on the couch, their arm draped around Autumn’s shoulders. They both stiffened when they saw him, but they didn’t disentangle from each other.

“Hi,” Autumn said. Her hair was longer than the last time he’d seen her.

“Hiya,” Donnacha mumbled.

Payton didn’t greet him. He’d been cold with them for so long now that they barely bothered anymore. Donnacha’s stomach twisted with guilt, as well as a hint of victory. An empty sort of victory, but still.

Lucy was sitting on the couch too, in pyjama bottoms and a hoodie, one knee pulled to her chest. She looked up briefly from her phone. “Oh, hey, Donnacha.”

And then Henry fixed him with a look, and Donnacha felt like he could breathe again. He was sitting at the dining table, with his worn copy The Catcher in the Rye and a cup of tea.

Tea sounded fucking lovely, actually. The cocktails had been yummy while he’d been drinking them, but he would appreciate something to wash the sickly-sweet aftertaste out of his mouth and settle the burning upset in his belly.

“How was it?” Henry asked him, ever straight to the point.

That snagged everybody else’s attention more than Donnacha’s initial arrival had.

God, he loved Henry, but he could kill him sometimes.

“Oh, shit,” Lucy exclaimed, eyeing Donnacha’s jeans – his nice jeans, not his everyday jeans – and shirt. She let her phone rest on her knee. “Did you have another date tonight?”

“Yeah, I did,” he responded weakly, focusing on her rather than letting his eyes trail towards Autumn. “It was kind of a... last-minute thing.”

“Another date,” Autumn repeated. She was braver than him. Always had been. Ran headlong into things with a smile on her face.

Donnacha gritted his teeth and tried his best to look casual as he met her gaze.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone.” She looked genuinely happy for him, which Donnacha silently resented, and resented himself for resenting. Payton shifted their weight, and for once, Donnacha couldn’t even bask in their discomfort, because this was extremely uncomfortable for him, too.

“Two someones, actually,” he blurted out. The words immediately tasted horrible in his mouth. He had no desire to make Autumn jealous, so what was this burning need to prove something? What was he even trying to prove?

“Two?” Henry’s interest was renewed. “You weren’t out with the same person as yesterday?”

Donnacha forced a smile, promising himself he wouldn’t get mad at Henry. But Christ, he just wanted a cup of tea, not an inquisition.

“Nope,” he said.

“Okay, so, how was it tonight?” Lucy wanted to know. She propped her fist under her chin and leaned onto her knees. “Was she pretty? Nice?”

“Um...” Donnacha felt a tickle of a laugh rise in his chest, despite everything. His hands and his voice were trembling, which was mildly ridiculous. “Actually, he was... cute.”

The room fell silent, and his unsettled belly was suddenly flooded with an anxious buzzing. This wasn’t the fluttery anticipation he’d felt at the start of the night, like he was a teenager about to step onto the field for his first under-20s game. This was despair, like fumbling the ball and costing his team the winning try during his first under-20s game.

It sank in all at once, what he had just done. Jesus, what a way to come out to two of his roommates and his ex-girlfriend as... whatever he was. He probably should have at least waited until he had a word for it.

“He was a polite sort of lad. Pulled my chair out for me, which has never happened to me before, actually,” Donnacha chuckled, mainly because nobody else was saying anything. The only person whose gaze he could bear to meet was Henry’s, and when he did, Henry gave him a little wink of approval.

And then Donnacha got his breath back.

He could kill Henry sometimes, but he loved him.

Lucy looked the least surprised out of the other three, but she still squinted at him like he was a maths test and she’d slept through the last ten lessons. “Okay, sorry, but... yesterday, it was a girl, right? You showed me a picture. She had long, brown hair, a tattoo on her neck –”

“That was, um, a genderqueer person, actually.” Donnacha rubbed the back of his neck. He wished he could stop saying ‘actually’ so much; he butchered it with his accent every time, and it made him feel like he was being insincere when he wasn’t. “Not a ‘she’.”

“Oh,” Lucy exclaimed. “Oh, sorry.”

“And... how did that one go?” Payton’s voice was low and somewhat deliberate. It was probably the first time they’d spoken directly to him in a week.

“Ve was very nice.”

Even Henry looked shocked and impressed this time; he’d surely assumed that someone like Donnacha wouldn’t even know what neopronouns were, let alone manage to use them in a sentence. It seemed like a silly thing to feel smug about, but Donnacha couldn’t help it. He barely recognised himself these days; it almost felt necessary to let some other people in on the craziness.

“But m-maybe a bit too intellectual,” Donnacha went on, despite the swelling discomfort in his stomach. He was over-sharing. He had never been like this. Maybe he’d always talked things out with Autumn one-on-one, and now his ramblings needed other outlets. “I think ve would get, um, bored of me very quickly.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Lucy frowned.

Donnacha shivered, breathing hard against a wave of nausea. What the hell was wrong with him? Henry and Lucy were both gay, Payton was nonbinary, and Autumn was... well, he wasn’t entirely sure, but she was clearly attracted to someone who wasn’t a man, so not necessarily straight. This was the safest room of people he could be in.

So why did he feel like he was going to faint, or throw up, or both?

“Anyway. Cuppa?” He skimmed his gaze over Payton, Autumn, and Lucy. “No? Hen?”

Henry shook his head. “No, thanks, hon, I’m still nursing mine.”

“So you are.” Donnacha snapped his fingers in the direction of Henry’s mug. He’d never snapped his fingers before pointing at anything before in his life.

Before he could do or say anything else weird, he turned towards the kitchen. His knees threatened to sag while he was putting water in the kettle, ears straining towards the living room. It felt like he’d just let off a slew of random fireworks and then left. He wondered if they would talk about him now, while he was out of sight.

Sweat crackled on his forehead. What whispers would Autumn and Payton be sharing? Donnacha wondered – again – why he even cared. His feelings for Autumn were in the past. If she broke up with Payton and asked Donnacha to take her back tomorrow, he would say no. He knew that, as certainly as he knew Henry’s favourite chocolate was 70% cocoa with sea salt. His feelings for her had changed. That was what his kiss with Henry had taught him.

He slapped a dry teabag against the back of his hand while he waited for the kettle to finish boiling. His cheeks puffed out under the force of a slow, lazy belch that crept up from his gut. God, those cocktails were not sitting great. Donnacha’s throat felt sticky, as though he was still sipping one. Now that his mood was dipping, he couldn’t help thinking that the fried chicken they had ordered to the table had been a little hard to choke down. He wasn’t used to deep-fried food, and he could feel how his belly was gurgling away trying to digest the greasy coating and the stringy meat.

At this point in time, he remembered the unpleasantness of the food, and the shifting of his stomach, more than he remembered the face of the man that he’d shared it with. Although, that might have had to do with the fact that he felt like he was suffocating right now.

Do you know what? Tea, be damned. Who could be arsed standing around, waiting for a kettle to boil, when they were embarrassed and not feeling well?

Donnacha skulked back through the living area, slowing down but not stopping.

“I’m off to bed, actually,” he said. Actually. He didn’t meet anyone’s gaze this time. “I’m wrecked. I’ll see yous tomorrow, or...” He broke himself off with a nod as he ducked through the archway and bolted for his bedroom.

11:58pm

He sat and fidgeted with his phone for a couple of minutes. He had texts from both Josh and Willow, but every time he thought about composing a reply to either of them, it felt like they were both in the room, standing over him with their shoes pressed against his chest. Josh with his brogues, Willow with ver knee-high boots. Josh, smelling like musk and molasses; Willow, smelling like an ocean breeze. Both of them fantastic and gorgeous and, apparently, waiting for texts back from him because they liked him.

So why couldn't he stop focusing on the looks he might get if he walked about town with either one of them on his arm? Why, instead of giddy and excited, did he only feel this sickening dread?

“Donnacha!” Henry’s voice said sharply on the other side of the door, as though they’d been in the middle of a conversation and Donnacha had said something outrageous.

His skin prickled, hot then cold. He got up, stomped over, and opened the door. “What?”

Henry made a face and shut his eyes, like he was rebooting himself. When he spoke again, there was something a little more fragile about his voice.

“Bad day, was it?”

“No! It was fine! I told you.” Donnacha sat down on his bed again. Standing was doing his stomach no favours.

Henry paced in behind him.

“Maybe our personalities didn’t click very well,” Donnacha shrugged. “Maybe he reminded me a bit too much of myself. And I might now know who or what I’m interested in, but I know for a fact I’m not interested in going out with myself.”

Henry nodded as though what he was hearing wasn’t the ramblings of a slightly drunk man having a crisis.

“And, of course, I was nervous,” Donnacha murmured, lowering his chin slightly. “You know? I’m twenty-five and casually dating for the first time ever. And it was a lad, hen. And this... the lads thing, it – it still feels weird, actually.” Actually. “But I was... no, I was the normal amount of nervous. It was a normal kind of date. Just normal.”

Henry shifted his weight from one leg to the other, cane tilting with his hips. “Donnacha, I... asked if you had a bad day. Not a bad date.”

Donnacha swallowed, this time tasting the chicken grease right in the back of his throat. He folded his arms over his middle and leaned forward, testing how the pressure felt against his stomach. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Misheard ya, then.” Donnacha sniffed and cleared his throat. And then words came out of his mouth in a dizzying rush. "Bad days, I-I've had any amount of those recently."

"What?" Henry asked hoarsely. "And... you didn't think to say anything?"

Donnacha shrugged. He noticed that Henry’s glasses were slipping down his nose, just a bit, but he was eyeing the way Donnacha was sitting, hugging his belly.

“Are... you feeling sick?”

Instead of a verbal reply, Donnacha hiccupped, the pain cutting so deeply through his chest that he made a choking sound like he’d been punched.

“You gonna be sick?” Henry asked, casting a glance towards the hallway as an afterthought, presumably wondering if Lucy’s ears had pricked up at his words.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything, Hen!” Donnacha was raising his voice now, and he either didn’t care, or cared immensely. “I – I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Donnacha’s face burned as the words escaped him.

Jesus Christ.

He’d never been this moody and self-indulgent, but it felt as though he’d stumbled across this beautiful, yet painfully delicate, thing inside of him, and the thought of exposing it – allowing it to be observed, critiqued, potentially broken – to the world made him want to scream.

Back home, he’d have sent his old man into absolute uproar if he’d come out with a line like that, accusing him of having too much time on his hands. His secondary school coach would have asked him if he’d rather join the drama society (ironically, of course, since his school hadn’t had a drama society). Even the lads on the current team would probably chuckle at him, or, at best, nudge him in the direction of a counsellor rather than have him bang on like this in front of them.

Henry didn’t ridicule him. He didn’t accuse him of being soft.

Instead, Henry hobbled forward to stand next to him, combed his fingers through Donnacha’s hair, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. Donnacha sighed – or was it a little sob? – and tilted his head against Henry’s stomach. It felt good to have a body so close to him. This was more physical contact than he had experienced on either of his two dates, and that thought was so confusing that it made the knots in his stomach pull even tighter.

“You don’t have to know,” Henry whispered. “You don’t have to know anything. Your story belongs to you, and no one else.”

Bile rose in Donnacha’s throat. “Bit late for that now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I... made a show of myself, didn’t I?” Donnacha flicked a hand in the general direction of the living area, as though the scene where he’d announced his sexual fluidity was still taking place out there, in open defiance of him and his current feelings about it.

“You didn’t make a show of yourself. Donnacha, what are you on about?” Henry tilted his head and brushed a tear away from Donnacha’s cheek with his thumb. His hand was a little cold, thanks to his bad circulation, “Exactly what do you think you did wrong?”

“I... I don’t know. I thought talking about it would be easier, is all,” Donnacha said on a trembling sigh. His stomach cramped, but the pain felt secondary to the panic that had wound its way around his chest. “It felt weird, a-and... it felt like stripping down to the nip and waving my arse in the air, with all of you watching me.”

“That’s...” A smile, both wry and fond, crept through the lines in Henry’s features. “Unfortunately, that’s what coming out often feels like. I mean, maybe it was too soon for you, and you took yourself by surprise. You sure as fuck took me by surprise.”

Donnacha chuckled drily, and Henry kissed his head again.

“But I was so proud of you, hon.”

A spark of warmth circled Donnacha’s heart.

“Hope you know that.”

Donnacha tried to swallow around a hiccup, not wanting to ruin what felt like a tender moment, but he failed spectacularly and ended up belching instead.

“Thank you," he mumbled. "‘Scuse me.”

"We'll chat more tomorrow. I think you should try to get some sleep.”

“I will, if you get out of my room, you weirdo,” Donnacha mumbled. He reached up to squeeze Henry’s arm before sinking back a little on the bed.

“Rude.” Henry finally adjusted his glasses. He glanced towards Donnacha’s bedside cabinet. “You never made that cup of tea, by the way. Do you want me to bring you one?”

Donnacha curled his lip, rubbing one hand over his middle. “Nah, my stomach really doesn’t feel great.”

Henry nodded, eyeing him warily again. “Well, I’ve been having atrocious insomnia, so let me know if you need anything.”

12:21am

Jesus, but these cramps were getting brutal now.

Donnacha was relieved that Henry hadn’t decided to spend the night in his room, because as soon as he had laid down, it sounded like a lawnmower engine had started up in his belly.

He had resigned himself to sleeping on his back, which he didn’t usually do. Acid sloshed into the base of his oesophagus, thanks to the heartless bitch called gravity, but it was the only position he could find where he could cradle his sore, gurgling stomach with both hands. He woke a few times to find his hands had slid to his sides and had to readjust them.

4:07am

A car horn blasted him fully from his sleep.

Donnacha groaned in pain (Oh, sweet Jesus, my belly hurts) and confusion (who the hell is sitting on their horn at this hour?!). He was starting to think he’d never get used to living in the town. Back home, the most he’d ever be woken up by was a crying fox, and even that used to be an exciting affair that he’d share with his parents and sisters over breakfast. (Did any of yous hear the fox last night?!)

He sat up in bed, and as he did, his belly growled like he was starving, when he was in fact the opposite. Its contents went tumbling over into a heavy pile. Donnacha let out a hiccup-belch, his throat too tight to release enough air to relieve any of the pain.

He planted a hand on his stomach, flinching when the pressure stirred up more pain than he’d expected. His belly was pushing out, taking up more space inside his old jersey than it usually did, and the surface of it felt stretched and tight. He frowned. He hadn’t exactly gone overboard last night, and none of his drinks had been carbonated.

Must’ve been that chicken, he thought. Saliva flooded his cheeks even as he recalled it. A gurgle wove its way through his gut, accompanied by a clenching, slithering pain.

A bead of sweat chased another bead of sweat down his back.

He shot to his feet and moved as fast as he could without bouncing himself up and down. His stomach was jostled nonetheless, and he burped and hiccupped and gulped convulsively all the way to the bathroom.

When he reached the toilet, he was drooling and gagging, ready to get this over with. Donnacha cringed and braced himself, but it wasn’t enough to lessen the unpleasantness of experiencing that sticky, greasy chicken in his mouth all over again, this time mixed with acidic juices.

All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and look forward to the relief he knew he’d feel later, when the food was unable to torment his stomach anymore.

He retched hard, throat constricting around strangled groans.

It was down his shirt, he realised when the retching slowed down and he opened his eyes. One of the hiccups in the hallway must have brought something up with it.

Shit. He needed to go check that he hadn’t left any on the floor. If Lucy saw that, she’d –

“Urrgggghhh,” Donnach moaned as sharp pains wracked his belly. He’d made a bit of a mess on the floor, too, somehow, but he’d had to deal with that later.

The next wave was coursing up his throat, filling his mouth all the way to the backs of his teeth, before spilling into the toilet bowl. He couldn’t remember throwing up this thickly, this immensely, since he’d been little. He could almost feel the chill of the farmhouse bathroom – which was very different and much fresher than the chill that plagued apartment blocks. He pictured his mother fussing over him, checking his forehead with her hand, tutting as she went looking for the cordless landline so she could call his school. He could almost taste the 7Up that she would stir the bubbles out of, because flat 7Up was the cure for everything in those days.

As he choked up a mouthful of yellow fluid that stuck to his lips on the way out, Donnacha couldn’t remember if stomach acid and flat 7Up tasted much different.

Ew.

He retched again.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent in front of the toilet, but eventually, Donnacha noted that he needed to pee. Too exhausted and nauseous to stand, he peeled himself up off the floor and sat on the toilet seat. He couldn’t have said how long he spent like that, hunched over so that his head nearly touched his knees, arms gripping his cramping belly. All in all, this was a relatively safe spot for him to be in, especially if things went south. Well, further south. Based on how things were progressing, he wouldn’t have been surprised...

Donnacha sat up, propped his elbows on his knees, and cradled his head in his hands.

5:27am

The front door slammed.

Donnacha jumped. Shivered. He was still sitting on the toilet, and he felt dizzy. Had he dozed off? Or just spaced out for a second? He blinked and glanced over at the thin light white streaming through the bathroom window.

It had probably been Lucy, he thought blearily, leaving for classes a lot earlier than usual. Made sense that she’d want to get out of the house, if she’d caught wind of any of Donnacha’s troubles in the night.

Donnacha would probably feel bad about setting off her phobia later, but right now, he didn’t have the energy to feel any worse than he already did.

5:38am

Whether he’d beaten his insomnia or not, the front door slamming must have gotten Henry out of bed. He must have seen Donnacha’s bedroom door swinging open, and his empty bed, because Donnacha’s ears were suddenly prickling from the gentle taps of his cane as he came down the hallway towards the bathroom door.

He didn’t knock. He just gently called out, “Donnacha?”

Donnacha squeezed his eyes shut. Bad idea. His head immediately started to spin and his upper body started to sway.

“Hey, hon?” Henry called out a little more sharply. “Still alive in there, aren’t you?”

“Just about,” he croaked.

“Want me to come in?”

Donnacha looked down at his sick-stained jersey. He was still sitting on the toilet. He and Henry might have been close, but… not this close. Donnacha wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be this close to anybody.

“No,” he muttered.

“You coming out soon?”

Donnacha groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Just go away and give me a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

5:45am

“Jesus…”

“Come on,” Donnacha murmured, reaching for Henry’s hand and attempting to turn him around. “You don’t want to be near that bathroom for a while.”

Henry was inclined to believe him.

“How did... I didn’t think you were that drunk last night.” Henry frowned. If he’d known this was going to happen, he could have left a bucket in Donnacha’s room. He’d seemed upset after talking to everyone in the living room, but Henry hadn’t thought he’d been hammered. Who got drunk enough to make themselves puke on a first date?

“I wasn’t,” Donnacha whined. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his belly as they walked towards Donnacha’s room. “I think it was the food at the cocktail bar.”

“Why, what’d you have?”

“Ugh, this horrible, greasy chicken.” Donnacha’s cheeks puffed out a little, and his hand pressed further into his middle, as though his wrung-out stomach could barely take the mention of said chicken. “Ugh. Gave me this fierce belly ache last night.”

“Or,” Henry ventured, “you were coming down with a bug.”

“No. Nope.” Donnacha shook his head and let go of Henry’s arm as they reached his bedroom. “See, I had that one a few months ago. You remember it.”

Henry stood still, frowning as hard as ever, while Donnacha lowered himself onto the bed. The duvet was ruffled from the night before, but he made no effort to pull it up around himself.

Henry blew a gentle raspberry with his lips. “You don’t – you can’t just, like, get one tummy bug and then be immune to all of them. It’s not like the chickenpox –”

Donnacha whined, making a face like a child who was about to be lectured. “Ssshhh, Hen.”

Henry bristled slightly at being told to sshh, but let it slide seeing as Donnacha wasn’t feeling well. He eyed him as he settled down on his side, face pressed into his pillow.

“Going to sleep?”

“I’m actually just... gonna rest my eyes for a minute.”

“Or you could go to sleep.” Henry reached for the duvet and started to pull it up over Donnacha’s side.

“Can’t.” Donnacha's voice sounded ragged. “Training at half eight. Have to shower.”

Henry snort-laughed. Donnacha lifted a hand to try to push the duvet away from his shoulder.

“Match next week,” Donnacha croaked, tucking one arm under his head and curling the other around his belly. For someone who didn’t want to be tucked in, he sure looked like he was getting comfortable. “Can’t skip.”

“Wait, you’re being serious?” Henry froze, still holding the corner of the duvet so that it made a tent shape over Donnacha’s upper body. He didn’t want to laugh again, but one was bubbling in his chest. “You’re hardly going to training, hon.”

“I’m grand,” Donnacha told him. “I’ve got – gotten it all up. And… out. Out of my system. Should be fine now.”

“I thought you might say that, so, actually –” Henry said.

He swore he heard Donnacha mutter under his breath, “Actually.”

“– I’ve taken the liberty of hiding your car keys.”

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to filter down through Donnacha’s tangled, exhausted thoughts. Henry used that time to lower the duvet and tuck him in, ignoring the twinge in his hip as he leaned.

He hadn’t really hidden Donnacha’s keys – they had probably walked past them in the hallway on the way back from the bathroom – but Henry was relying on the fact that Donnacha seemed way too shattered to get up and investigate.

Donnacha glared up at him from the bed, with all the ferocity of a puppy waking from a nap. “No, you bloody didn’t.”

“Bloody well did. I know, I know.” Henry gestured lightly towards his own collarbone and let his voice drift towards Lavender’s, just for the theatrics. “I always have been a criminal mastermind of the highest order.”

“I can walk,” Donnacha threatened, stifling a yawn, “if I leave right now.”

“Dear boy, you’ll get blown down by the smallest breeze,” Henry relished telling him, “before you even get out of the driveway.”

“You know that I can take you, don’t you, Hen?”

“Oh, yeah?”

Donnacha hummed in the affirmative, wrapping the corner of his duvet around his hand and pulling it in close to his chest. “Yeah. I can make you give me my keys and spill all your secrets.”

“Usually, yes, but you couldn’t even take a bit of tall grass right now. Will you listen and get this through your head?”

Henry leaned forward on his cane, so his face was a little closer to Donnacha’s pillow. His hip twinged a little less this time.

“You’re. Staying. Home," Henry said, his stomach twisting with each word. He hated having to be stern - he had a fundamental aversion to it - but sometimes Donnacha could be so stubborn that he was a hazard to his own health. Henry reckoned he would never understand it himself, the way that Donnacha devoted himself, as well as the majority of his free time, to the rugby team.

Henry righted himself, sighing, when Donnacha's silence indicated that he'd won. “You can beat me up over it when you’re better.”

“Probably a good thing,” Donnacha slurred. Henry was almost sure that he’d just started to drool against his pillow. “My belly hurts something fierce."

Henry raised his eyebrows.

"I don't... mmm." Donnacha gulped, his hand tightening around the corner of his blanket. "Shit. I don't think I've ever been this sick in my life, actually.”

“Donnacha. Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“And... you still needed me to stop you from going to training.”

Donnacha hummed in the affirmative, and Henry wondered hopelessly how someone so consistent could ever feel as though they didn't know who they were.

He reckoned he'd spell it out for him later, though, since Donnacha seemed to have fallen asleep and was - indeed - drooling on his pillow.

#Lucyverse Donnacha #Lucyverse Henry #sickfic #emeto #emeto sickfic #stomach bug fic #stomach ache fic #hurt comfort #hurt and comfort #platonic caretaking #angst fic #angst

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shipsandlattes · 4 years ago

Text

So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.

I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.

In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already.

I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.

Just work with me for a minute here.

Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.

The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.

Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.

When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.

This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.

And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long.

What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.

Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold.

Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.

Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.

Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.

So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.

Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:

1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.

2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).

3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.

4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.

5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.

Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.

Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean and @inacatastrophicmind!

#supernatural #SPN #DeanCas #destiel #deanwinchtser #castiel #15x18 #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #actor #acting #I ship it #shipper #i love you #spn spoilers #opinion piece #thoughts #my two cents #ships and lattes

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years ago

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PLUS yes there's tons of cliche "the power of friendship saves the day at the end" "the love between boy and girl defeats the bad guy" stories but how many times has queer love saved the universe?

Okay, so, please finish reading my post below before replying, please don't read the opening paragraph and send an angry response:

Love saving the universe, in isolation, is an extremely heteronormative trope, by which i mean amatonormative - the idea that to "fix" everything all you need is some magic mcguffin power brought about by Feelings, and the idealisation of romance as the endgame strength, rather than having any remotely intelligent writing. I didn't mind how ot was done in Adventure Time (where there were multiple forms of love, an entire system for it, and sometimes it contributed to DESTROYING the world), but I am not a fan of this being done with romantic pairings.

A lot of people will disagree here, but I think replacing the straight love with queer love is about the same as replacing our obsession of straight church marriage with queer church marriage. Turns it on its head a bit, and an AWESOME way to resist heteronormativity, but not exactly a rejection of those harmful ideas that have existed to support more repressive institutions or ideals. It is a step, one we probably NEED to take, but not a final destination.

What She-Ra does right is it doesn't just replace whatever straight kiss would save the day with a random gay kiss - it is queer through and through. The entire conflict of the show, between Catra and Adora, and with Prime and Shadow Weaver in season 5, is a metaphorical struggle against all the things that tear queer people apart and make us hide aspects of ourselves:

1. Everything was built against them from the outset with Shadow Weaver pitching Catra and Adora against each other.

2. As a result of that trauma, Catra became a very toxic character, Adora became very self-repressive, and significantly, they repressed their romantic feelings for each other out of responsibility to their repressing factions - the dehumanizing First Ones, and the no-weaknesses-allowed Horde.

3. They had to resist the religious cult of the Horde, particularly highlighted in season 5 wherein Catra gets literally mind controlled into Prime's suicide cult, and Adora has to pull her back into reality, both struggling with all the pain and love of their relationship.

4. Catra and Adora, finally in the safe space of... space, are allowed a breather to work through their baggage, discover their natural selves, and start to act like the little lesbians they always have been.

5. When they were FINALLY starting to act like their queer selves, Shadow Weaver - the person who CAUSED them to start fighting - has the audacity to show up and claim Catra is "bad" for Adora, and that Adora shouldnt be getting into relationships and should instead be working for other people, because it's EVERYBODY's business what relationship she gets into apparently. "Haven't you hurt each other enough?"

6. In more general terms Prime and the Horde loves repressing the queerness of the individual, not directly in barring gay relationships but in all aspects of their identity. Scorpia has so much self-doubt instilled by the Horde that she needs a lot of encouragement by Perfuma to act true to her desires. Entrapta tries to save Hordak and Wrong Hordak from the repression of their true selves, specifically their religious self-discipline and abuse, while struggling with her own feelings of being unwanted/hated due to her uncontrollable differences. And I don't have to talk about how Prime VERY SPECIFICALLY tore apart Spinerella and Netossa, the two longest-established queer characters.

So when Catra and Adora "save the universe with a kiss", it's not just "love saves the day", not even just "queer love saves the day" - it is "embracing queer love resists and destroys the many institutions, and even the internalised self-doubt, that would make us hide our true selves".

Catra and Adora may have stopped the Heart, but that's not the important part. That kiss would have been just as beautiful if it was isolated entirely to the characters themselves - finally, Adora being happy as herself, accepting good things for herself, and Catra being able to show her love. That alone already works to shatter what was keeping them apart - blowing Prime's spaceship up into a christmas tree is just the ceremonial part 😏

#she ra #spop

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lucysarah-c · 2 years ago

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LUCY HIIII c, g, t, s ( I may have picked those letters on purpose fjdbvfjcvg😜)

Hiiiiii! how are youuuuu?? <3 Thanks for participating 🥺 I'm always scared of getting into these games in case I get ignored lo So thank you <3

C: What character do you identify with most? Mh from AoT? I think I'm a mix between Erwin, Arming and Historia... Probably more like Erwin and Historia. I feel like my overall personality matches Historia more but my train of thought and ambition for stuff matches Erwin more. So probably that, if they ever had a child that would be me lmao. I mean Historia because I had always felt a lot of the necessity to be a "good girl" or a "good person" and family talking it has always been some sort expected of me to be the "sunshine who is always raising everybody's mood and smile all the time". I had even been added to work zoom meetings to "ease the tension and make everybody get along,". Meanwhile, I feel like Erwin represents more the version I'm with my closest friends, who washes away a bit of the "good girl" expectations I've on myself. Plus, I can be a sly nightmare when I desire lol, which is not regular. G: Care to share a favorite crack fic? Uhhh this was in Spanish, I don't even know if it still exists. It was from a page for Junjou Romantica's place for fics (yes I used to read BL mangas)and it was that all the characters from Junjou Romantica and Sekaiichi Hatsukoi moved on the same building and it was HILARIOUS. I laughed for hours back in the day! Like everything was so chaotic and stupid. Plus, it was written by someone who was "probably" from Mexico and imagining Usagi talking in Méxican Spanish made me crack all the time. The girl never finished, a part of me died that day. T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand? Ay... I'm gonna get a lot of hate for this one but anything related to Mermaids, Fairies and royals Au. I don't know Mermaids are something I've never been into even as a little girl, I think I've never finished watching "the little mermaid" because I just don't get it... I mean I get the plot, just not the mermaids. I prefer Greek mythology mermaids and they are super creepy stuff lmao. Faires are more on the same and Royals Au because I kinda never vibe with them? Which doesn't mean they are bad or wrong, just not my cup of tea. I like Game of Thrones or House of the Dragon kind of Royals, where everybody is really messed up, sleeping with their cousins... like probably real royals lmao. Incest was a huge problem in royalty not until long ago lmao.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? Mafia, end of the world/apocalypse/zombies and, my dirty secret, Omagaverse. Sorry, I will say it 100 times if I've to, Omegaverse sometimes is the only way people would touch misogyny, sexism and political topics in fics if they are well written. It's a matter of turning one male character into an omega and suddenly all the fics turn into huge political debates with huge misogyny topics that make the plot really interesting. I'm not saying all Omagevarse fics are like that but some of them are and I love reading about them. Like good Omegaverse is like the whole plot of "handmaids tale" and that show is THE BOOM.

#Ask Lucy! game

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rp-meme-central · 3 years ago

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Bone - Vol. 7: Ghost Circles - sentence starters

1. “This is crazy! We’ll never get off this mountain before it explodes!”

2. “Somewhere around here is the entrance to a secret tunnel.”

3. “No way! I’m not going in there! What if the whole mountain blows up while we’re in there?!”

4. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I think there’s something down there.”

5. “I don’t remember the tunnel being this long. We must have missed a turn somewhere.”

6. “It’s awful hot down here. Anybody else having trouble breathing?”

7. “Stay calm. This is just a hallucination! We’re probably breathing some underground gas or something.”

8. “Oh come on! A mass hallucination like this must be caused by a substance that has a chemical effect on our brains, not by mystical powers!”

9. “It looks like a giant hand reached out and leveled everything in its path! There’s nothing left!”

10. “Follow my footsteps exactly. If you step into a real ghost circle, you’ll cease to exist.”

11. “Come on, guys, cut it out. I don’t like it when you fight.”

12. “How can you be tired?! You’re being carried!”

13. “Do you ever think about anything other than yourself? What about the rest of us who are just trying to survive the mess you made?!”

14. “Everybody in this ____ is nuts! Including us! We need to get out of here before it’s too late! And you’re the only one who’s stopping us!”

15. “No buts! Next time I see an opportunity to to escape, you’re coming with me. You got that?”

16. “What happened to you? What happened to the world? I didn’t know this could happen... I-”

17. “Finally! After we drink, can we stop for a while? I’m exhausted!”

18. “You told _____ today that you’d go home next chance you got. Did you mean that?”

19. “Oh thank goodness! I had this really ominous dream, and I was afraid something bad might have happened.”

20. “I’ve seen you without your _____ on before. We grew up together, remember?”

21. “I think something’s wrong. I can feel it. Something’s starting to change.”

22. “Quiet. I’m listening for signs of life moving around out there.”

23. “I say this is all hooey! We’re just hallucinating!”

24. “I am already dead. And you certainly will do no damage to me with that tiny blade.”

25. “The world is full of dark truths, ______... and one truth I have learned is that destiny always prevails...”

26. “You have _____ inside you now. It controls you. It will not allow you to resist.”

27. “What a world. _____ is still alive. And everyone else except us is dead.”

28. “Ouch! Sorry! I didn’t mean to shock you!”

29. “Get off your high horse! You’ve been blaming me for our troubles ever since we got here, but I guess we know who’s to blame now, don’t we?”

30. “Cheer up, ______, we’re on our way now and nothing can stop us!”

31. “We’ll be safe as long as we hold hands. It worked before.”

32. “Who cares about the stupid war? We’re just trying to survive!”

33. “Hold tight to my hand! We’re inside a _____! I don’t know what will happen if we lost contact!”

34. “Don’t listen to _____! I’m scared of monsters, too! Sometimes I sleep with the light on.”

35. “It’s forbidden for anyone other than a ______ to set foot in _____. The penalty for trespassing is death.”

36. “Is that all you think about? Gold?”

37. “Get up there, ______, or I’m going to throw you to the other side!”

38. “Well? What are you going to do? We’re in a bit of a hurry. The world is ending, remember?”

39. “Oh boy, oh boy! I can’t wait! I bet the streets are paved with gold!”

40. “You’re a funny egg, you know that?”

#rp memes #sentence starters #Bone #Bone comic #Ghost Circles

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jade4813 · 4 years ago

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Sparks Fly, Chapter 14

Title: Sparks Fly

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Everybody knows sparks fly whenever Barry Allen and Iris West are together. Their mutual animosity is legendary. But when Iris returns to Central City to investigate recent sightings of a mysterious red streak, she discovers a hero she just can’t resist…and Barry struggles to hide the unrequited feelings he can’t deny.

Chapters: 14/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Iris didn’t know how long she stood there, in that place that wasn’t really a place, trying to process what the speed force had told her. Time was irrelevant where she was. Or, she corrected herself with a sardonic smile, perhaps someone like Barry would tell her that time was irrelative where she was. There was no way to mark its passing because it didn’t seem to pass so much as it converged around her – the past, present, and future swirling around this makeshift construct of ground upon which she stood, melding together, before breaking apart again to go its separate ways.

“If you stay here for very long, you may die. But without a lightning rod on the other side, I don’t know how to send you back where you belong.” The words echoed in her head, too immense to contemplate, leaving her weak as she tried to fight off the panic that had swept over her from the moment they had been uttered. But Iris had neither the time nor the luxury for panic. She wasn’t the type to go down without a fight.

Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and counted to ten as she slowly exhaled. Twice. A third time. And then she opened her eyes, determined to focus on the problem and not the what ifs that would overwhelm her. Every problem had a solution, her father had once told her. Of course, he’d been talking about juggling homework and not being trapped in a place outside of space and time when he’d said the words, but she had to believe they still applied. If only because she had no other option.

Focusing on the mist around her, Iris could still see shadows of her other lives in other worlds and times and realities. But this time, she didn’t shy away. She focused, hoping she could find some sort of answer there. Focus on the problem. Every problem has a solution. Sometimes she just had to reframe the question, she reminded herself silently as she watched the images flicker by. Blushing and looking away when the pictures she saw were more intimate than anything she’d ever done with the man she knew.

What was the problem? Well, she was stuck in the speed force. It didn’t seem like any version of herself had ever faced that dilemma before – though with the apparent thousands upon thousands of versions of Barry and Iris that did or could or might exist, she could hardly swear to it. Either way, that train of thought wasn’t getting her anywhere.

So instead of the situation, she turned her attention to the act itself. The Man in Yellow, Eobard, abandoning her within the speed force. Wanting to hurt her. Wanting to destroy the Flash.

As she thought about the villain of her nightmares, the images around her flickered and changed. No longer was she watching the love she and Barry were apparently destined to share. Instead, she watched countless battles between the Flash and his arch-nemesis in yellow.

Holding her breath (though she apparently didn’t breathe here any more than she suffered from the passage of time), she watched battle after battle. Eobard facing off against the Flash and losing. Or at least not winning, as sometimes the battles ended in a tie or a temporary retreat. Either way, Eobard failed to kill his sworn enemy. Again and again.

But it wasn’t just Barry and Eobard in the scenes before. Sometimes she was there, too – or some other version of her, at least. Eobard racing toward her, determined to snap her neck. To put his hand through her heart. And the Flash intervening, saving her life. Too many times to count.

She was reminded of the night Eobard had attacked her in her own home. Barry had shown up that night, too. She had thought it was a coincidence. Sheer luck. But was that really the case? The visions in front of her suggested otherwise. No matter how great their love, there was no way that Barry could just happen to save her from death at the hands of another speedster thousands upon thousands of times. There was simply no way. Particularly since, once or twice in the flickering images, she could swear that it wasn’t Barry who came to her rescue at all but some other speedster (a revelation she tucked away for future contemplation, as she pondered who these other speedsters could be and if they might exist on her world and reality, as well).

“The speed force is not just something that gives speedsters their powers. I am a part of them, and they are a part of me. Just like I created the Flash, and the Flash creates me in return. But that power is more than someone without that connection can control … I would never hurt you. Not intentionally. But you were never meant to enter the speed force for very long. You are the one who brings Barry back. Not the other way around.”

Iris mulled over the words the speed force had told her, feeling that they were more significant than she’d first realized. The speed force needed Barry. Maybe it even loved him – if such a thing were possible. And Barry, it had said, needed her. Which meant, in a sense, the speed force needed her.

Enough to act to protect her in countless lives and realities? Helping Barry to reach her side, to save her life, time and again? Perhaps.

As intriguing – and, to be honest, a little terrifying – as that thought was, it didn’t really help with her current predicament. Given what the speed force had told her, she suspected it would help her escape, if such a thing was in its power. If it hadn’t immediately expelled her back into her reality, she had to believe it simply couldn’t do so of its own volition.

Allowing herself one single huff of disappointment that her prior train of thought hadn’t gotten her any closer to the answer, Iris took a mental step back and tried to find a new way to analyze the problem. So long as she remained calm and focused, she told herself a solution had to come eventually. She couldn’t afford to give in to the despair of thinking otherwise.

In silence, Iris studied the images in front of her again. Barry and Eobard fighting, pushing each other faster and faster. Moving at speeds too fast for the eye to see. She found herself wondering idly what their top speed might be. What was the fastest any speedster had ever moved? Fast enough to bring her into the speed force itself and abandon her in this strange unreality, at least.

Wait. That was it. Eobard had carried her into the speed force. Or, rather, he’d thrown her into it, but that suggested that either he or others had entered the speed force before. Well, either before or after. The lack of time relativity was really messing with Iris’s mind. However, one way or another, other speedsters must have either entered or carried others into the speed force at some point.

No. Not others. The speed force had indicated that she was the first non-speedster to find herself inside it. Though not that she’d been the first person to find herself inside it. It was a critical distinction that gave her a rush of excitement, convinced that she might be on the right path. If other speedsters had entered the speed force, perhaps one of them could bring her back home.

Of course, it was unlikely that the solution would be so easy as flagging down a passing speedster like she might hail a cab. But she didn’t let that demoralize her. She just had to take things one step at a time.

Once again, the images in the mist around her morphed in answer to her silent request. Other versions of the Flash, racing into a black void, like the one she’d glimpsed just before finding herself in this place. The images confirmed her suspicions. Speedsters typically didn’t enter the speed force when they ran. Perhaps they just channeled its energy, like a racer using nitrous to give their car a boost, not needing to crawl into the engine to tap into that extra bit of speed. (It was an imperfect analogy at best, she supposed, but it would do.)

Except if they didn’t always enter the speed force when they ran, Iris needed to determine when and why they did if she was going to find a way to flag one down and ask them to carry her home. As she pondered the question, a flicker of yellow caught her eye, and she watched as Eobard himself raced into the speed force. He did so more than once, studying the pictures as she tried to figure out his purpose. She was struggling to put the pieces together until she saw something that made them fall into place, making her gasp. She watched as Eobard ran into the speed force from a place that looked like something out of a futuristic science fiction novel, racing out again to come to a stop in front of the Allen’s home.

The speed force had confirmed that he was from the future, that he had traveled into the past determined to kill the Flash. Was this the moment he had made his fateful journey? It had to be, didn’t it? Which meant that, whatever other reasons speedsters might enter the speed force, they did so in order to travel through time.

Which admittedly didn’t help her much. Eobard definitely wasn’t the only person to have ever raced into the speed force, and as Iris watched the images flickering around her, she realized that he wasn’t even the only one to have ever time traveled before. But that didn’t really help her, since she suspected he would hardly be willing to take her home, and she didn’t know how to get the attention of any other speedster going on a trip through time in order to make the request.

But still, she felt that she was close to an answer. She had to be, because nothing else came to mind. Closing her eyes to block out the images that might otherwise distract her, Iris began to pace back and forth, hoping the physical activity would help clear her mind.

How long had she been in this place, she wondered. Without being subject to the passage of time, did it really matter? It might have been ten minutes. It might have been an eternity. She had no idea.

Wait. Time. That gave her a thought. Time was irrelative here, so it really didn’t matter that speedsters didn’t race through the speed force whenever they used their powers. She didn’t have to worry that she’d missed her chance to catch a passing speedster because the speed force was no time and yet every time in equal measure. In a sense, every moment in time was happening all around her, all at once. So it wasn’t a matter of when it might happen but how she might get someone’s attention. Someone who didn’t want to kill her, she mentally corrected herself.

That gave her an idea, although it seemed a bit far-fetched. Still, what was the harm in trying? “Flash, help me!” she yelled into the mist that surrounded her. As expected, nobody heeded her call. But sometimes the biggest problems had the easiest solutions, so it had been worth a shot.

Sucking in a deep, calming breath, Iris returned her attention to the problem. As she paced, she swung her arms back and forth – an old trick she used to do when studying for finals in college, because someone had told her it helped to get the blood flowing to her brain. Well, she didn’t know if her blood really flowed, exactly, in this timeless space. But she did stop short when the movement gave her another idea.

Opening her eyes, Iris focused, willing the images around her to change once more. And so they did, showing speedsters in a rainbow of colors as they raced. Electricity of different colors sparking behind them, papers and other detritus left spinning in their wake. It happened pretty much every time they ran, this impact of their speed on the world around them.

If only she had someone like Barry with her to help explain the physics of what she was watching; she’d only ever studied basic physics in school, and that was long ago. Still, there was no point in wasting time wishing for things that she didn’t have. Instead, she watched the scenes before her with narrowed eyes, trying to make sense of what she was seeing for herself. In particular, she watched the papers that were sent flying when the Flash ran past.

Iris couldn’t necessarily explain the physics for any of it, but for a split second, it was as though the papers were drawn towards the Flash as he ran, before being sent in a spiraling dance to the floor, carried by the wind that was an inevitable aftermath of such incredible speed. If that was the case, could she use such a phenomenon to return home? She didn’t need to be carried for miles. She just needed enough momentum to propel her through the vortex that appeared whenever a speedster entered and exited the speed force. The papers only appeared to be drawn in for a split second, but that was all she really needed. Particularly since time, as she’d already established, was fluid inside the speed force.

Perhaps she was on completely the wrong path, but she had at least one theory for how to return home, which was more than he’d had before. Now all she needed was a passing speedster to test it out. With every moment in time occurring more or less simultaneously, it would take focus to latch onto one that she needed. Like the images in the mist had required focus to form into anything of use.

First, she tried to think of the moment she had seen previously, when Eobard had traveled into the past for what she assumed to be the first time. But it didn’t seem to do any good. Perhaps the thought was too vague to offer the speed force much direction. The problem was, she didn’t know a more specific moment that Eobard – or any other speedster, for that matter – had traveled through time.

Except…she did. Didn’t she? The night her dad had first seen the Man in Yellow. Sure, it was possible that Eobard had been lurking around for years, waiting for the perfect moment to put his plan into action. But Iris doubted it. She suspected he would consider it a waste of time. Particularly since time was something he appeared willing to manipulate.

It occurred to her that, even if she was right, there was a chance this would leave her stranded in the past, on the night Eobard had killed three police officers and terrorized her father as part of his plan to destroy the Flash. She had no idea how she would get back to where – or when, rather – she belonged.

But one step at a time. First, she had to get herself out of the speed force. Then she’d figure out what to do next.

#sparks fly #fanfiction #my fanfiction #westallen #barry allen #iris west #the flash #enemies to lovers au

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 6 months ago

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Cloud: Pop quiz time. A train is traveling west to east at speed of 300km/h. The driver applies the brake producing a deceleration of 1.4m/s/s. In newtons, how hard will the man in carriage 7 mash his face into the seat in front of him and realize most of the problems in his life are created not by external circumstances but by his own repeated self-sabotage?

Aerith: Cloud?

Cloud: Are human tears primarily composed of a) water b) antibodies c) a quiet admission that all of our plans and dreams will eventually turn to forgotten dust or d) salt?

Aerith: Cloud!

Cloud: Daniel gets salty at criticism and admits he is wrong: never. In years, how long will it be before he alienates all of his friends with this behavior and finds himself entirely alone?

Tifa: Is this supposed to be a personal attack?

Cloud: Rachel has chosen to remain alone at home for the evening and drink two liters of red wine. Please identify the correct chemical formula for consumable alcohol. Is it: a) C2H6O b) C2H5OH or c) The 17th time this year Rachel has attempted to solve an issue by escaping it internally simultaneously knowing at some point, however difficult, she will have to confront whatever it is that went wrong and why?

Tifa: Yo what the fuck?

Cloud: If the y axis is a sense of purpose, and the x axis is the course of a person’s life time, please explain the significance of this result. *flips them off*

Aerith: Cloud this isn’t funny.

Cloud: Quiz ain’t over yet. Alice and Pierre are having a significant disagreement. Pierre says ‘why didn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi remember R2D2 in star wars episode IV?’ Alice says 'he did, because, like, remember when he called him his little friend.’ Pierre replies 'then why did he say he didn’t remember owning a droid.’ And Alice returned 'that’s because R2D2 was Anikin’s droid.’ Who is right and why?

Cloud: Please study figure 66 of the world not giving the slightest shit. And relatedly refer to figure 72 of the world before you were born. Then the world after you’re gone. Then the world after everybody is gone.

Cloud: *Holds his arms apart* Is this angle a) acute b) obtuse c) reflex or d) the hug we desperately wish we could ask for but have convinced ourselves that the pain of existence must be carried alone on our backs forever and ever?

Tifa: This is a personal attack.

Aerith: I’ll hug for as long as you want as much as you want.

Cloud: Ava and James sometimes interact digitally. This month James has responded: 4, 3, and 7 days after Ava’s messages so as to give the impression he is uninterested despite being completely infatuated with her. What is James’ median reply time and why will he live miserably ever after?

Tifa: Is this why you don’t text me back immediately?

Cloud: Arthur knows people who are nice to him, and people he likes. Please explain why the only people he pushes away are the few who belong to this intersection.

Aerith: I don’t know…

Cloud: An intersection is a point where two lines cross over. Will and Claire intersect on a street. Claire is thinking 'Do you know that I still love you? That I will always love you? I was never as happy as when things were good between us and I wish it could have worked and I’m just so sorry.’ Will is thinking 'Not a day goes by where I don’t remember your little and big kindnesses. And I recall the heights of happiness we climbed to. And how sure we were that it couldn’t go wrong until it all went wrong and I’m just so sorry.’ Their lines will not intersect again. Why are people like this?!

Aerith: Cloud, what the actual fuck.

Cloud: This year Amelia has suffered a death in the family, a break up, and several personal crises. Calculate her remaining resistance to completely loosing it when Christopher says: 'Hey you look sad. have you tried going for a run? Have you tried the paleo diet? Have you tried melatonin?’

Tifa: Okay Cloud we get it.

Cloud: I’m not finished with the exam. A pine cone is the canonical fruit of the pine tree. It isn’t sentient but it also doesn’t suffer for possessing sentience. Therefore, would you rather live as a) a pine cone b) a pine cone or c) a pine cone?

Cloud: A pine cone experiences neither shame, anxiety, nor the long months that turn grey and numb for conceivably no reason. Using only the terms 'gnaa!’ and 'aaahahaah!’ explain what a nice condition it must be to be a pine cone.

Cloud: A pine cone is traveling from west to east at 300km/h. If the driver applies the brakes even if the pine cone bops its head, even if the pine cone comes home to its house burning down and its life destroyed, even if Octolon custodian of the seven hell realms manifested in the sky and started laying waste to continents with anti-matter beams shooting out of his ass please explain why the pine cone will witness and bear these things with ease and experience no self contradictions, no sadness, but merely boundless calm.

Aerith:

Tifa:

Cloud: And for extra marks please explain why evolution or a deity would bestow upon a person a big enough brain to realize they are fucking up but make them too stupid to stop fucking up and if your answer is 'happiness’ please show all your workings.

Aerith:

Tifa:

Cloud: If your answer is 'happiness’ please show all your workings

#cloti #clerith #aerti #clerifa #cloud strife x tifa lockhart x aerith gainsborough #ff7 #incorrect ffvii

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ellewords · 4 years ago

Note

daichi is the designated driver at parties (after everyone becomes legal, of course. if he catches anyone underage drinking, he purposefully lectures the hell out of them because he knows forcing them to sit through a talk where he is overly serious and overbearing and the like is more likely to work than yelling at them and getting on their case about it). he’s been doing it ever since the third years became of legal age to drink because asahi is a bit of a light weight despite his size, and suga, while not nearly as bad as asahi, tends to get out of hand when he has a few too many drinks. on days when he does feel like drinking, he caps it off at two, regardless of the type of alcohol, and he always makes sure that he (and anyone else drinking) has a ton of water and food in between. he’s not exactly motherly about it because he knows everyone is more than capable of taking care of themselves, but he does sometimes accidentally slip into his signature look/tone combo if someone doesn’t finish the water and/or snacks he gave them in between every two or three drinks.

there’s only been one time that daichi got legitimately wasted, and he vows to never do it again. if anyone asks, it’s because he didn’t like the feeling of waking up hungover the next morning, but suga accidentally lets it slip one night after he was a few drinks in that it’s really because daichi becomes a super emotional drunk. he cries at even the slightest inconvenience, he opens up about his feelings an embarrassing amount, and he becomes super affectionate. asahi even has footage of daichi crying all over suga about how much he loved the first years after going to the last game of their third year to cheer them on. (asahi doesn’t address the fact that his loud sniffling is also heard from behind the camera or that suga is literally cooing at daichi as he pets his messy hair down.)

daichi gives everyone the deadliest glare of his life when he walks in on the team watching the video play for the fourth time and laughing their asses off, and suddenly, it’s as if the video never existed in the first place. though asahi never deletes the video, everyone silently agrees that it will never be talked about again. though, the team does try to secretly get daichi drunk a few times afterwards. it doesn’t work. unfortunately.

i think this is the shortest hc i’ve ever sent in to you, wow. you proud of me, elle? 🥰 lol, jk, hope you’re having a good day, and good luck with studying and such! -🌙

— from elle ! haha it might be the shortest, but it was still packed with such amazing *chef’s kiss* hcs >_< pls designated driver-emotional drunk!daichi ??? pls that’s literally me ngl lowkey feels like i was reading about myself hahaha but anyways as usual, a couple short lil scenarios with the team under the cut because the karasuno dynamics live in my head rent free ;-; tysm for this 🌙anon !! <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

asahi was the lookout, surely with all that height, he’d be able to see daichi coming from a mile away. he didn’t need to see the video again, having lived through the actual experience himself. besides, that video lived on his phone anyways. he could just watch it whenever he wanted to.

but suga didn’t have that kind of an advantage, phone in his hands as all the other members crowded around him, trying their hardest to keep their mouths shut. even kiyoko was trying to hide her snickers with the back of her hand.

everyone knew that they were already on pretty thin ice with daichi, him having caught them three times just in the past week. but they just couldn’t resist, even as daichi shook his head and made them do extra drills as a response.

“and the first years,” daichi bawled, words barely understandable through all the tears that came from his eyes, “they have so much potential, so much ahead of them...it just makes me so proud, you know?”

daichi gently hits the area over his heart to emphasise his point, leaning his head on suga’s shoulder. his face was flushed red, a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead. eyes puffy and nose very clearly runny, asahi hands him a tissue from behind the camera.

“awe,” suga cooed, brushing daichi’s hair back. it’s clear that he’s holding in his laughter, given that he was biting his lip each time daichi sniffled, “you gonna miss them?”

daichi nodded, using the tissue asahi had given him a few moments ago. “i just love them so much, i hope that we were at least good mentors to them. that they remember us when we go.”

the camera shakes ever so slightly as asahi could no longer hold back his own tears. if they listened close enough, they could hear a quiet, “yeah.”

“...and the second years,” daichi continued, unable to stop himself, “i just hope they know that they could still reach out to us...if they ever need anything. i know that they’ll do a good job but it would be nice if they updated us every now and—”

“and just what exactly are you watching?”

they hear a voice in front of them, chills creeping up their spines, blood running cold. everyone’s faces paled as daichi stood, hands crossed in front of his chest, gazing in front of them with the deathliest glare they had ever seen from him.

no other words needed to be spoken. asahi had his head hung low, already deleting the video as soon as suga tossed the phone to him. just like that an agreement was made, no one speaks of the video ever again.

the only time it was ever brought up was the little party they had in honor of the third years graduating. it was held at the gym, decorations kept simple — just a banner that yachi had made and a couple of balloons floating about.

the night was already winding down, everybody had eaten, music was kept at a low volume for ease of conversation. soon enough, it would be time for everyone to say goodbye.

“everyone!” nishinoya called out, loud as ever as he gestured towards ennoshita who made his way to the center of the room, “i believe our new captain wants to say something.”

everyone gathered around him, cups of soda in hand as they anticipated his words. daichi had passed the baton onto him, the role of leader, captain. he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t regret it.

“tonight we say goodbye to our third years...” ennoshita started, a sad smile making its way to his face.

“hey!” suga called out, a laugh threatening to break away from his lips, “don’t make us sound like we’re dying! we’re only graduating.”

“right, sorry.” a flustered flush colored his face. still, he continued his little speech, “you four mean a lot to us. taught us many things in and out of the court.”

the team nodded along, agreeing with his words.

“ i know that you think we’ll do a good job, but i just want you to know that we will definitely be reaching out to you whenever we need anything. we’ll definitely be updating you every now and then too.”

asahi’s eyes narrowed, why were these words just a little too familiar? oh no, these were daichi’s words from that video...

everyone else had caught on pretty quickly, smiles threatening to form on their lips as the video was still unable to leave their heads for the past few weeks. tsukishima was the first to add on to ennoshita’s speech, “yeah, and don’t worry, we know how much potential you think we have.”

tanaka smirked, a certain amount of pride lacing his voice, “i'm sure these first years definitely know how much they have ahead of them. but we’ll be good mentors like you were.”

“we’ll miss you too!”

“we definitely won’t forget you!”

suga and asahi looked towards daichi, just a little bit nervous. by that point, they had assumed that everyone had forgotten about it and moved on. obviously that was not the case, since the entire team had the biggest grins on their faces. suga and asahi expected a glare, or at least an uncomfortable look.

but he’s smiling, fondly, gaze warm and soft. daichi could tell they were being sincere, despite the teasing tone in their voices.

so he lets it slide this time.

and also because daichi just knew : he was definitely going to miss this.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like at a party? | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot

join my hq taglist here. <3

#gosh what i would give to go to karasuno #and be part of the vbc #might just be my fave team dynamic #written on the margins 🔖#daichi scenarios #karasuno scenarios #karasuno hcs #🎐 — 🌙anon! <3

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tosikoarts · 4 years ago

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SFW Alphabet | Tsurumi Tokushirou

Wow, this one seems to be the apogee of my writing. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Finally, a man who knows what he is doing. Tsurumi is a sly devil but he also got a taste of love, and those two points combined made him a danger to anyone he puts an eye on. The entire 7th division holds their breath watching how skillfully First Lieutenant pulls the unsuspecting victim into his snares.

Understandably, his main weapon would be the art of word. Tsurumi knows how to keep dialogue entertaining; moreover, he is well versed in complimenting his favorite person. He murmurs sweet nothings into their ear in public and in private, under the sergeant's condemning gaze and right under the nose of the jealous Second Lieutenant. Tsurumi does it wisely though, avoiding Usami’s uncontrollable obsession.

Gallantry is his middle name. As soon as they appear on the horizon with a bag or a stack of heavy books, Tsurumi miraculously finds himself next to them taking all of their stuff in his hands. Always accompanies them on the way home, from time to time pleases them with a small bouquet of lavender, moves the chair away from the table so that they sit down. At the same time, his gestures and moves, all looks natural like Tsurumi has been born with it.

Oh, also, he likes to spoil his loved one, pamper them without any limits. If they want to take a picture together, he will hire a western artist to paint a portrait of them. If they want a bar of chocolate, he will order to find the best dessert chef in Hokkaido. This is not his constant behavior, but Tsurumi quite often goes over the board with his affection.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Let’s be honest, to be best friends with Tsurumi you have to be at least no stupider than him and, better, even a little bit smarter. Otherwise, he will treat the person like another pawn in the game. Mind is a measure of strength, and those who are weaker than him do not deserve more than condescending attitude.

His best friend has to be patient and steadfast as a tin soldier: the hole in the head and lack of a brain piece deprived the First Lieutenant of poise so he is prone to outbursts of unwarranted violence. He may jokingly threaten to bite off their nose. Likewise, he may introduce them to the general madness of his division in the face of Usami or Nikaidou. They just have to deal with the crazy without going bonkers themself.

In addition, they have to have a wide range of interests or be willing to learn new things. Tsurumi is the one to offer to go to horse race, win (or lose) some money, and, without delay, go to the nearest theater. His broad knowledge in various areas makes it possible to boast in every possible way on every possible topic and he expects his best friend to keep the conversation going. Of course, his favorite topic is war and weapons so they must be familiar with it.

The advantages of friendship with this remarkable individual are: respect in all circles he is in; initiation into his plans or most of them; life will seem a lot easier than before since obstacles become suspiciously fewer…

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He has a weird desire for them to look into his face while cuddling. To be mentioned, Tsurumi takes off his enamel head plate in private and it works like a magic: his expression transforms into one of person who has been gone for too long, who was yet to see the horrors of Russo-Japanese war. So, Tsurumi likes to keep them on his lap, hands placed on their thighs or waist, and talk, talk, talk. For some reason avoids spooning: if they try to spoon him, he will slip away from their hands, turn around, and plant a gentle kiss on their forehead.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

It’s complicated. Considering his past with Fina, the whole idea of settling down evokes the unconscious resistance in Tsurumi. Grand plans for hidden gold are the one thing that interests him at the moment, or this is what he convinced himself in. Even in the case of having the most suitable partner, Tsurumi will choose treasure hunt over binding relationship. Same goes for children. His henchmen are his kids, his hellhounds, his creations that he nurtured with distorted version of love and adoration. It is unlikely that he has even a little healthy parental affection left. Great at making desserts, mediocre at cooking overall, doesn’t care about cleaning and leaves it to the partner.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Break-up can go different ways.

In the best case scenario, Tsurumi acts like a gentleman until the very end. On the designated day, he invites a partner to a quiet place and makes sure nobody disturbs their conversation. Even if it happens in the barracks, all soldiers are strictly ordered to stay away from the First Lieutenant's office. There are two cups of a soothing herbal tea on his table as well as dessert associated with them. In calm steady voice Tsurumi explains why they have to break up and how it would be inevitable in the future if they choose to stay together for little longer. In the end of his speech, they feel almost like they initiated this break-up and Tsurumi just conducted their thoughts like his own. It is harmless and easy break-up with no hard feelings after all.

Other options aren’t that innocuous. He can easily make up a kidnapping scheme to remove them from the sight. It may or may not be violent, may or may not leave them traumatized. In the worst case, Tsurumi with heavy heart will give the order to eliminate them and hide all signs of their existence. It is a pity that one cannot erase the marks left on him and his life.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As mentioned in the previous paragraph, formalizing a relationship is far from the first thing on the Tsurumi’s To-Do list. His partner can try to hint at marriage but he will either completely ignore it or adroitly dissuade them from such stupid undertaking. In a relationship, he remains faithful despite the absence of some fictitiously important pieces of signed paper.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Well, even if he is gentle in any variation, this gentleness carries a sadistic undertone. Tsurumi’s physical affection borders on pain and it is impossible to tell if his vulnerable moments are a theatrical performance or not. He can laugh endlessly, kiss their fingertips and bare knuckles, purposely tickle their neck with his long eyelashes or handlebar moustache but the very next second a predatory grin distorts his face, sending thing in darker direction. Only God knows what is going on in his head, really.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

A truly romantic hug so often shown in films and described in books: his hand rests on their waist, pulling them closer, and other hand catches theirs as if in a slow dance. Each time the distance between him and his partner becomes less and less, but what remains constant, it is a subtle smile and piercing gaze of dark eyes. When in a cheery, exclusively friendly mood, Tsurumi likes to give the partner a tight bear hug or a short greetings-like hug with resting his chin either on their shoulder or on the top of their head.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes years for Tsurumi to say “I love you” out loud. About 3-4 to be exact. Either because he cannot call his feelings real love, or because he does not want to let them ease off. Confession imposes the stamp of some kind of completeness on the relationship and it isn’t fun at all. In his speech, the magic three words are replaced by softer analogues like “I really like you” or “Aren’t you my sunshine” so his partner does not put much thought to why Tsurumi avoids confession. Oh, one hundred percent the day he finally chooses to confess will be an anniversary date. Expect a day dedicated solely to satisfaction of his partner’s desires.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh no no no, please, we don’t have that much space in the cemetery. Flirting with Tsurumi’s partner is like playing Russian roulette with five bullets in cylinder – highly lethal game of chance. After spotting unlucky admirer, Tsurumi tries to identify them and dig up as much information as possible. Their fate depends on it. If it's some kind of midge, a cockroach, First Lieutenant forgets about this situation pretty fast. He doesn’t want to deal with such squalor anyway. If this is a more serious figure, Tsurumi may want to teach them a lesson how rude it is to encroach on someone else's love. Probably pulls a couple of strings to get them into some kind of trouble. Get them fired, discharged, robbed, assaulted, whatever. At the same time, he doesn’t even mention them while talking to the loved one.

Provoking Tsurumi to jealousy is just as dangerous. His actions are not as radical as in the first case but his partner will have to learn that this is not an acceptable behavior. It is hard to imagine how far he can go though, methods may vary from simple manipulation to straightforward psychological abuse. The latter is the last and the least appealing option, which Tsurumi won’t use unless he is forced to.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sometimes you just wonder where he learned all these tricks with his tongue. Tsurumi is a playful skilled kisser with excellent flair to where and when to apply fine knowledge of French... technique. Bites are not uncommon either. He has a habit of marking his loved one so everybody around knows who they belong to, and at least one hickey has to flaunt on their neck to keep him satisfied. Tsurumi prefers to kiss his partner wherever they want to be kissed, especially if they ask nicely, and to where to be kissed… a straight line from razor-sharp cheekbones to the notch between the collarbones is a great start.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Stranger’s kids are terrified of Tsurumi. Little ones burst into tears as they notice his wide smile, and those who are a little older stare at him with confusion. Teens try to stay away from this man since he fits the stranger danger statement very well. Thus to say, Tsurumi isn’t fond of being near children and prefers to pass the buck to the subordinates. If we are talking about his own (highly hypothetical) kids that is another story: they get the best of the best, they are spoiled rotten just like his partner. Of course, as kids grow up, Tsurumi switches to the carrot and stick approach spoiling them only as a reward for good behavior. Not that bad around children, really. It's not his fault that he fits the description of Boogeyman.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

On rare days when Tsurumi decides to spend the day with a partner, he never rushes. Those mornings are complete opposite of his usual mornings: they are slow, lazy, maximally filled with intimacy. No one is in a hurry to get out from under the blanket and if his loved one tries to sneak out, Tsurumi deftly catches them by the waist and drags back. I think it is clear that he is immensely touchy in the morning hours. The rest of the time is spent in a kitchen over a cup of green tea, in lively conversation on a variety of topics. No, he is not going to leave the house until the late noon.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Get ready for experiments and new experiences. Have they ever tried horseback riding? No? Good, he will be their teacher. Calligraphy? He will help to put their hand on a brush correctly. Nyotaimori or nantaimori? He will ask either Koito or another twunk to serve as a model. Tsurumi presents every evening date as a surprise that will not leave one indifferent and still he somehow manages to not overstep the bounds of decency. When their mood doesn’t fit his own adventurous impulses, the choice falls on a more classic pastime like late night walk or dinner date but there is not much that can be said about it.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

His partner won’t hear a bit of personal information, a single bit, until Tsurumi is one hundred percent sure that they are here to stay. Until then, he will feed the partner common unremarkable phrases which cannot compromise him in any way. Even after this, a lot of uncertainties remain: Tsurumi seems to describe events only in positive or neutral light, avoiding situations that obviously carry a grim implications. For example, not a word will be said about Fina or Olga and even if partner witnesses him fiddling small bones in his fingers, Tsurumi will make some fable up. Revelations happen but it is not something they will have a chance to get used to.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Easily angered but pulls himself together in the blink of the eye. His malice usually spills out in a form of nervous thrill so it is rare to see Tsurumi screaming his lungs out or getting into a fight. In a relationship, he puts on a mask of an eternally patient partner so his loved one won’t even guess about his anger issues.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Liar is obligated to have a great memory, do you get where I’m coming from? Now only he remembers what his partner has to say but also somehow knows what they hide from him too. If the information seems to be of low priority, Tsurumi immediately forgets it. Like what is he supposed to do with the fact that theirs first dog was called Akira? Best of all he remembers theirs crucial ups and downs both to establish the emotional connection and have some control levers in the future.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Difficult question. Not any of “first experiences”, not anniversary. Probably, the first time he introduced them to the group of closer soldiers like Tsukishima and Co. For the first time Tsurumi decided to “show off” his partner in the headquarters just to establish a clear boundaries between himself and subordinates. Of course, he was well aware of the risks and consequences but chose to do it anyway. The reaction of some was quite expected: Koito's face expressed unpleasant surprise and qualm, he couldn’t switch back from Satsuma dialect and when it finally happened, there were more awkward pauses than comprehendible words; Usami screwed up his eyes as if he was evaluating a competitor simultaneously deciding on the best method to eliminate them. Nikaidou didn’t really cared. Kikuta did neither. Tsukishima’s reaction was the most adequate of all: he politely bowed, mumbled words of courtesy, and got back to his routine. However, on the way to the office he decided to warn them that lovely Tokushirou might differ from their expectations. At the end, Tsurumi was extremely pleased by the flaunting and gave them opportunity to choose how he will thank them for the shown patience.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tell me, who in their right mind would want to provoke this man? Like, who? His very presence is enough to scare any foe away, not to mention how lethal his overprotectiveness can be. Tsurumi is great at managing resources to make sure his partner is okay: there is always an armed invisible observer in the city they are staying in, sometimes they are sent letters in which Tsurumi takes interest in how their days are going, etc. On the other hand, in moments of real danger, his subordinates are those who take care of his loved one: soldiers are obliged to protect them since Tsurumi usually holds a leading position rather than actively participates in the dirty work. Has no need to be protected, however, partner’s impulses to do it are always met with tender emotion and sincere drawling “aww”.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tsurumi has an enviable ability of being seemingly the most caring and charming man in the world without even trying. He is natural in wooing, it feels like the whole world is on his side: if he forgets to buy a present for the anniversary (which never happens, may I assure you), a hurrying seller will be selling cute necklace at discount price. Whenever he decides to go to another city with his loved one, there will be a festival or celebration. To be fair, Tsurumi does put efforts in the relationship and keeping his partner happy. He just has it easier than most of your common men.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His own motives and desires will always be prioritized over his partner’s. It is reality that they just have to deal with. If his partner feels confident in enough, they can try to fight Tsurumi with his own weapon - flattery, ruse, and equivalent exchange, - but success still entirely depends on his mood.

Military career implies long partings with the risk of never seeing the partner again. For the person who cannot live without their loved one’s physical presence, relationship like this will feel like living hell.

To mention something more lighthearted, Tsurumi is constantly surrounded by subordinates that have questionable… adoration towards him. It asks for deep dive in military psychology, workplace psychology, and additional peek into sexual psychopathology but you get what I mean. Usami gets off talking about how First Lieutenant will be upset with him and, probably, will punish him, okay.

Tsurumi is shady man overall, damaged both physically and emotionally, he is missing a piece of the brain and it is already a long list of reason why one should think twice before getting in with him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Tsurumi actually cares for his looks. He takes his time to shave the moustache and goatee just the way he wants it to be, thoroughly washes the hair twice a week, keeps the head plate clean by wiping it with wet cloth and disinfecting with alcohol. The main reason of his concerns is desire to look presentable and influential, not a banal narcissism. Does the face scar bother him? When there’s nothing to occupy his mind – yes. Tsurumi understands how drastically it changed his overall look and sometimes regrets what happened but what is the point of overthinking unalterable? Right, there is none.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Break-up is a huge deal in the sense that Tsurumi's reaction could be anything. Unpredictable. Up to monstrous consequences. The safest option would be drop everything and run away since he won’t chase them to the end of the world. Yes, he would feel betrayed and fueled with anger but whatever, it is not the most important thing on the agenda. Sooner or later their paths will cross again and it will be the chance for Tsurumi to show his disinterest. You know, this “I am a bad bitch, you can’t hurt me” style. Direct confrontation leads to a passionate interrogation on why they decided to leave. Is there anything he can do to prevent them from such imprudent step? Does their relationship lack anything? This conversation quickly escalates into preparation of feelings during which Tsurumi scrutinizes all their ins and outs. If they successfully survive this psychological torture mixed with all kinds of manipulation – congrats! – they are allowed to leave. Now he has left his mark on them, on their heart and soul, so they have to carry it wherever they choose to go.

In the case of their death, Tsurumi grieves. How does a man like him grieve? Through sublimation, of course. To stop thinking about the time spent together, he pays more attention to treasure hunt. Tsukishima unobtrusively plays the role of a First Lieutenant’s personal therapist, listening to his pensive monologues, but it doesn’t make any difference. Just like his Sergeant, Tsurumi has difficulties with experiencing repeated loss, and second time feels even worse than the first one.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Remember this clear liquid oozing from under his head plate? It is actually сerebrospinal fluid that provides mechanical and immunological protection to the brain. Constant leaking of CSF leads to a condition known as orthostatic headache: this type of headache intensifies while person is standing and eases when lying down. Tsurumi has extreme headaches after his excited leaks that are usually weakened by general thrill. Once agitation excitation wears off, he becomes incredibly irritable and searches for a quiet place to lie down. The one person who knows about such side effect is Tsukishima. He has saved a dozen of lives already by preventing fellow soldiers from talking to resting First Lieutenant.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has specific requirements for his environment and a list of traits its members have to lack.

For example, curiosity did kill the cat. People by his side should not pry into his personal business unless they want to get bitten. It is dangerous for them, for Tsurumi, and for plans he has built, so his partner has to either be incurious or keep themself in check when it comes to bunch of stuff.

Freedom-loving and willfulness are the worst enemies of manipulator, no wonder that First Lieutenant looks for someone submissive. Guess, for those achieving high ranks, powerplay is an integral part of social interaction.

Ah, but at the same time, lack of personality makes Tsurumi yawn. Such people do not provide the kind of entertainment he is looking for and it is natural for him to overlook them in the crowd.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Sleeps suspiciously well for a person who bites people’s fingers off. Brain injury left him dreamless for the rest of the life so as soon as Tsurumi’s head touches the pillow he immediately goes into a deep sleep. His sleeping schedule is nothing special too. Obeying the laws of army life, First Lieutenant wakes up early at the same time very day and goes to bed no later than 10 pm. Lies on the belly with arms straight up along the body. Without the head plate, obviously.

With the advent of a permanent partner in his life, Tsurumi’s sleep became more restless. Now he feels way too energetic, tosses and turns in bed, and cannot find a comfortable position in the bed. Since most of the time they still sleep apart (he has a reputation to maintain, blah-blah-blah), Tsurumi has to take a walk to blow off steam and get rid of swarming thoughts. Sometimes it does not help at all so he rushes to their house hoping to find peace in their arms. And so it happens. Tsukishima has almost come to terms with the frequent absence of the First Lieutenant in the mornings. However, Koito is not that happy about it and keeps bothering sergeant with questions to which he has no answer. Poor young man.

#golden kamuy #tsurumi tokushirou #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikoswrites

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grailfinders · 4 years ago

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Fate and Phantasms #80: Charles Babbage

Hey, remember how the Lalter build wasn’t strong? Let’s do that again. Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the King of Steam, Charles Babbage! You should probably check with your DM before bringing a giant transforming mecha to your next D&D game, it might mess with the game feel.

If that’s not an issue for you, you can check out Babbage’s build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Hyde your kids, hyde your wife, and hyde your husband, ‘cuz he’s stabbing everybody out here.

Race and Background

Babbage is (probably?) a human, but his armor is part of him, so this is a great opportunity to make a Warforged. This gives him +2 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, as well as some other racial bonuses. Constructed Resilience grants advantage and resistance to poisons, immunity to eating, drinking, breathing, disease, and sleep, and you can’t be put to sleep through magic. You also take Sentry’s Rests- Your long rests are only six hours long, and you aren’t unconscious during them. Your Integrated Protection gives you +1 to AC, and you integrate into your armor instead of donning it normally. This takes an hour (which can be done while resting), and the armor can’t be removed against your will. Finally, your Specialized Design gives you proficiency in Athletics and one tool. You’re a robot, you don’t really get tired.

You are the foremost expert in steam-powered technologies (although that’s probably not a huge achievement in many D&D campaigns), so you’re a good fit for a Sage. This background gives you proficiency in Arcana and History checks.

Stats

Your highest stat is Intelligence- you’re literally a robot that you made, you’d have to be very smart or very stupid to try that. Second highest will be Charisma; You’re all about the steam-powered dream, and you’ll have to convince the others to help you out. Your Strength will also have to be rather high- you’re swinging a giant club/sword around, and you can’t do that without some muscles. Unless you multiclass into Warlock, but honestly a fourth class would be too much. Speaking of multiclassing, your Wisdom also needs to be passible- don’t worry about getting this to 13 immediately, you’ll have plenty of time. Your Constitution isn’t great- your armor takes most of the damage for you. Finally, dump Dexterity. Being a massive lump of metal will severely impact any potential ninja career.

Class Levels

1. Artificer 1: If you really want to be Babbage, we’ve got to get you into a decent suit of armor ASAP, and that starts with Artificer levels. First level artificers have proficiency in Constitution and Intelligence saves, as well as Perception and Investigation. You can also use Magical Tinkering to add minor magical effects to tiny objects, as well as cast and prepare Spells using your Intelligence.

Mending will help you repair your armor and self for the time being, and Poison Spray lets you hand out samples of your Demonic Fog. For first level spells to check out, Alarm is a reasonable gadget for you to have, Identify will let you google whatever you come across, and Grease is a holdover from your racing days.

2. Artificer 2: Second level artificers can Infuse Items with magical effects. You can know four right now, but you can only use two at a time, switching them around on long rests. Enhanced Weapon, Enhanced Defense, and Enhanced Arcane Focus will help make up for your low ability scores later on, and Sending Stones are just useful to have.

3. Artificer 3: You can now make The Right Tool for the Job at the end of an hour while resting, as long as that tool is an artisan’s tool. You also become an Armorer, learning how to turn regular heavy armor into Power Armor. You can ignore the strength requirement for that armor, use it as a spellcasting focus, and it also can’t be removed against your will again. So now it’s really on there. Your armor is the Guardian Model, which comes complete with Thunder Gauntlets and a Defensive Field. The former is a melee weapon that uses intelligence and keeps the enemy’s focus on you, while the latter gives you the ability to gain temporary HP equal to your artificer level each turn as a bonus action.

Finally, you gain Magic Missile and Shield as specialty spells, which don’t count against the number you have prepared.

4. Artificer 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to enhance your Charisma- you’ll be needing it soon enough.

5. Sorcerer 1: Like right now! When you become a sorcerer, you have to pick your Sorcerous Origin, and the Clockwork Soul feels like it was made for you. You get another list of Spells that use your Charisma and aren’t prepared, so you pick them every time you level up. You can also Restore Balance, using your reaction to negate advantage or disadvantage on a roll made within 60′ of you a number of times per long rest equal to your Charisma modifier per long rest. Now the roll’s perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

Unlike most sorcerers, Clockwork souls also get specialty spells, which don’t count against the number you know. Your specialties are Alarm and Protection from Good and Evil for added magical defenses. You also learn Booming Blade to enhance your weapon attacks, Create Bonfire and Shape Water to make steam, and Minor Illusion to make fake steam while waiting for the water to boil. Burning Hands will let you shoot superheated blasts of steam from your hands, and Fog Cloud just makes a lot of the regular variety.

6. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers are a Font of Magic, giving you a number of Sorcerer Points equal to your sorcerer level. Right now you can use them to make new spell slots, or you can turn existing slots into points. You can also blast off on jets of steam thanks to Jump, which triples your jump distance.

7. Sorcerer 3: At third level you get the real reason for last level’s point system, metamagic! When you cast a spell, you can spend sorcerer points to make it a Heightened Spell to induce disadvantage against it on a single target, or a Subtle Spell so you can cast it without verbal or somatic components. That second one is pretty important, since you’re probably running around with a club in your hands anyway.

You also get second level spells this level. Your specialty spells are Find Traps and Heat Metal, but you also get Enlarge/Reduce. Would you really be Babbage if you weren’t a giant robot? The real Babbage would probably say yes, but let’s ignore that for now.

8. Sorcerer 4: Use this ASI to round out your Strength and increase your Wisdom to the multiclassing minimum. Your final sorcerer spells for a while are Control Flames and Enhance Ability. The former is really just more hot steam, and the latter is your awesome robot body making up for your low ability scores.

9. Artificer 5: Fifth level armorers get second level spells again, as well as an Extra Attack when you make the attack action. Your specialty spells are Mirror Image and Shatter. Sometimes all that steam makes people see things.

For prepared spells, Darkvision and See Invisibility uses your robot eyes to see things normal people can’t.

10. Artificer 6: Sixth level artificers get Tool Expertise, doubling their proficiency bonus when used in tool-based checks. They also get two new infusion ideas, and one more that can be used concurrently. The Wand Sheath is very useful for you, as it lets you cast sorcerer spells while your hands are full with fighting. You could also use Radiant Weapon as an upgrade to your Enhanced Weapon if you don’t want to use Darkvision.

11. Artificer 7: At seventh level, you experience Flashes of Genius. When a check or save is made within 30′ of you, you can react to add your intelligence modifier to the roll. You can do this a number of times per long rest equal to your Intelligence modifier.

12. Artificer 8: Use this ASI to become a War Caster, allowing you to cast somatic spells while holding weapons, cast spells as attacks of opportunity, and have advantage on concentration saving throws.

13. Artificer 9: Your final level of artificer lets you make Armor Modifications. Your power armor now counts as four items for the purposes of infusions, and you can use two extra infusions as long as they’re a part of your armor.

You also learn third level spells, including your specialty spells Hypnotic Pattern and Lightning Bolt. Fly further empowers your steam jets to really lift you off the ground, and Protection from Energy gives you defenses against spells and other armor-avoiding types of damage.

14. Druid 1: I know that technically druids don’t like using metal armor, but I have a very good reason for breaking the rules a bit here. Okay, it’s not good, but it is very funny. If your DM (or you) doesn’t like this rule break, feel free to swap this out for more artificer levels.

Anyway, first level druids learn the language of the druids, Druidic, as well as yet another list of Spells that use Wisdom for casting and preparation. You also get Resistance and Guidance for a small boost to your saving throws and ability checks.

15. Druid 2: Second level druids get the reason we’re here, Wild Shape! Twice per long rest, you can turn into a beast of CR 1/4 with no flying or swimming speed, gaining that creature’s physical stats. You also use their HP instead of your own, with their entire health bar acting like temporary HP. You can’t cast spells, but you can concentrate on them. You can also use any class and race features while in this new form. I’m not entirely sure how integrated armor works with druids-that’ll have to be a DM decision.

You also pick your Druid circle at this level, and Moon Druids are experts at transformation. Your Combat Wild Shape lets you transform as a bonus action, and you can spend spell slots to regain HP while transformed. You can also transform into beasts of CR 1 or lower. Now when you need to make a quick getaway, you can Wild Shape into a warhorse and let another party member ride you to freedom! That’s right, I managed to sneak the Babbage Locomotive Form in here!

16. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers get third level spells. Counterspell and Glyph of Warding further enhance your magical defenses, and Haste will let you overclock your armor for extra speed, actions, and AC!

17. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level clockwork souls can make Bulwarks of Law. By spending 1-5 Sorcery Points as an action, you can give a creature an equal number of d8s they can roll to reduce incoming damage as a reaction. The bulwark lasts until the end of a long rest, or until another bulwark is made.

You can also cast Stinking Cloud for a slightly more demonic fog.

18. Sorcerer 7: Seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells, including the specialties Arcane Eye and Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere. The former creates a mobile camera you can see through, and the latter gives you a super armor mode where you’re immune to any damage or effects from outside the sphere. You also learn Wall of Fire to create a wall of steam that can burn those who get too close.

19. Sorcerer 8: Use your last ASI to enhance your Strength to make it more passible. You also learn Major Image for larger wind-proof fog clouds.

20. Sorcerer 9: Our capstone level grants you the spell Cloudkill for a truly demonic fog. You can also Animate Objects to create clockwork minions, or make a Wall of Force.

Pros:

You have a high AC, especially for a caster. Without any outside help, you can reach 20 AC normally, or 25 AC with the shield spell.

This also makes you a very durable gish, with advantage and proficiency with concentration saves helping you keep your spells going on the off chance you get hit. You also have multiple forms of damage reduction and healing to keep you in the fight for way longer than you’d think.

You also fit into several niche use cases. You can use Enlarge and your armor to body block enemies from entering locations, or use clouds of steam and wild shapes for quick getaways.

Cons:

This build is very Multi Ability Dependent. You’re three classes, and each one uses a different casting modifier. On top of that, you’re also trying to be good with regular weapons! You should save this one for when you roll really well, I don’t think the standard array is enough for it.

Also, multiclassing into multiple casters means you don’t have the highest level spells you could, limiting your options at higher levels.

If being weak at high levels wasn’t bad enough, you also have to deal with your low scores at low levels too. Levels 1-2 are going to be very rough for you before you get your power armor.

#Fate and Phantasms #Fate Grand Order #fgo #Charles Babbage #D&D 5e

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smalltragedy · 4 years ago

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* justice smith, demi man + he/they | you know gabriel de leon, right? they’re twenty three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, six years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 1984 (infinite jest) by the used like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole waking up in a body as heavy as the dead, emotions always on the verge of spilling over - you laugh before the punch lands, the belief that every encounter you have will be the last thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 31st, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

hllo this is my second child i think theyre p grand n i love them a lot. as always pls like if u’d like to plot i’d lov to interact with everybody

VIOLENCE TW

mini playlist.

ghosting ;; mother mother / roam the room ;; citizen / art of doubt ;; metric / thnks fr th mmrs ;; fall out boy / heart in a cage ;; the strokes / where is my mind? ;; the pixies / flowers grow out of my grave ;; dead man’s bones / 1984 (infinite jest) ;; the used / blister in the sun ;; the violent femmes.

statistics.

full name: gabriel de leon.

nickname(s): gabe.

birthday: october 31st, 1997.

zodiac: scorpio sun, scorpio moon, gemini ascending.

mbti & temperament: esfp & improvisor / sanguine.

label: the icarian.

hometown: belleville, new jersey.

sexuality: homosexual.

pinterest.

biography.

it’s only rly ever been gabe n his mom n the little new jersey suburbs that r always the same no matter where they go. they dn’t speak abt fathers or brothers or spain or anywhere other than the now, and how its constantly changing bt oddly the same.

his mom’s name is sonia n we love her. she worked a lot as a single mom n p much hs done everything on her own ever since leaving spain.

they dn’t talk abt spain bt we cn talk abt spain n hw sonia hd grown up partially there n partially in the states n hw she’d originally planned to live there forever bt the man she’d fallen in love with ws involved in some. high class dangerous shit n it ws safer fr them to part even if tht involved leaving everything she knew n loved <3

bt its like. ok. bc she hd gabe <3 n they dnt talk abt it so it practically nvr happened. n she tries her best as a mom n usually tht is enough.

they moved around a lot just bc sonia is a very. flighty person. anxious bt nvr seems tht way is just always. tense. gabe didnt think she ws capable of relaxing fr. a rly long time.

she wld commute 2 nyc every morning n after school gabe wld climb onto the train n by the time he got 2 her place of work she’d be just getting off n they’d get a slice of pizza n sometimes they’d go somewhere like central park or coney island (just fr the novelty) bt most of the time they just got back on the train home w/ gabe either doing homework or napping on her shoulder.

when gabe got a little older he’d sometimes skip school n take the train after sonia had already gone so he cld spend the day in nyc. he liked learning bt didnt rly like school. he nvr properly fit in bc of the amt of times they’d move so it felt like nowhere ws. right fr him.

got rly involved in. the punk scene as a young unsupervised teenager n tht led 2 a lot of like. shitty stick n pokes bt also a love of. very loud angry music n a sense of justice tht he held tightly in his fists. got mouthy towards bullies whether at school or in the scenes he involved himself in n started getting into a lot of fights bc of it.

during this, sonia ended up dating n marrying gabe’s stepdad who he calls craig sometimes bt i dnt think thats his name i wont lie to u guys. its partially a joke n partially purposeful disrespect bc gabriel does not trust a single man bt like. man. ‘craig’ is just an accountant. he’s fine he’s a good dude. they once bonded over like. the mets.

violence tw // anyways. when gabriel ws 16 he got into a super super bad fight tht ended rly. terribly n like listen. nobody died bt it ws just. it got blown up very out of proportion n gabe might’ve gotten expelled even tho he wsnt even the one who started it bt thts okay. ‘craig’, or paul, suggested tht maybe. a change of scenery wld b good fr gabe n b4 they knew it they were. moving to paul-robert’s hometown of irving, north carolina. violence end of tw //

he wld’ve complained more bt. fr sonia’s sake gabe kept it 2 himself. it made her happy 2 see them all get along anyways n like. idk he cld put forth tht little effort <3

bt honestly like. he didnt rly get into too many fights once they moved down here n even tho sometimes he ws like. ommgg. i hate this town .. its so washed up .. he still made friends n like. the only thing tht changed ws tht it ws a lil harder fr him 2 acquire illegal substances.

anyways. currently he hs a tattoo apprenticeship n is a professional piercer n like. he plays guitar n writes songs bt thts more of a hobby rn than anything else. mostly focused on paying his rent at port apartments bc as much as he. loves his mom he does not want 2 live with her forever <3 n thts okay!

personality & facts.

overall xtremely passionate person like god. feels emotions so intensely. every time he opens his mouth n talks abt an interest of theirs its just very like. u listen n ur like oh. gained 2 inspiration. thanks.

clings onto his friends p tightly bc he like. nvr rly stayed in one place fr super super long in new jersey so he nvr made very long term friends n now hes like. very clingy HLKDSHLKFSHLKDG also hates to b alone. subtle desperation behind interactions with ppl he rly wld like to be friends with.

like dnt get me wrong hes gotten into. sm fights bt thts mostly bc he cannot keep his mouth shut n he also cnt stand douchebags he like. always wants to tear them down prob bc he ws a victim of bullying. n u know what. we support him. otherwise he loves ppl bt esp if they hv similar interests 2 him.

like golden retriever who bites kind of. intensely loyal but at the same time is very skeptical. things tht good things do not last very long even though they’ve been doing already fr the last few years.

also bit of a nerd. they were nvr rly a big fan of school bt theres smth abt a good superhero comic tht draws their attention more than like. any english class evr. bt seven soldiers of victory? classic. big dc fan.

uh. very into like. hardcore music. hardcore rock. punk. if its loud n angry they r into it like so so much. hs sm tattoos is like. super covered in them its partially bc they work at a tattoo shop n partially bc they do not know hw to manage their money well.

ooohh u know what theyre. kinda moody i wont lie to u. very defensive like they dnt evr wna talk abt their past. has experienced Things n they do not wish to discuss them. will usually like. deflect frm conversations he doesnt wna hv.

in tune with nature. loves fkn taking walks. hangs out in the woods by abernathy creek n lilac ridge bc nobody rly goes there n its just. nice

tries not 2 take anything super seriously 2 the point where when he does take smth seriously its a little scary bc theyre super intense abt it. forcibly optimistic even tho on the inside he feels like a total pessimist. lots of. deep down insecurities tht he projects by attaching himself p firmly onto others. >.>

so so so energetic. can never stay still. always hs to be moving around. restless like tht. probably got it frm his mom. overly protective over the ppl he loves. probably got it frm his mom as well.

goes onto Tangents bt also divert frm those tangents n is generally all over the place.

always cold n always looks tired n like he hsnt slept in a thousand years n u know what. sometimes he just does not sleep.

oooohh theyre a vegan. totally into animal rights. devious little demi man beyond that .. loves horror n the paranormal n believes in like. every cryptic. will debate u on it.

erm not. the kindest 2 themself theyre a bit self destructive. impulsive. drives very fast n parties super hard. said i will hv my effy stonem moment. u dont hv to gabe.

bt ya! luvs oranges n reds n is maybe a short king. hs an eyebrow piercing n like. a lip ring i wont fk around here he IS living his best emo life in 2021. a little outdated on the trends bt thats okay. probably will tell u hes frm new jersey. its a personality trait. smokes the shittiest cigarettes ever.

wanted plots.

just ghosting along ,, dnt even exist 2 me ,, ;; god. firstly just the vast amt of ppl tht gabe hs like. spoken to romantically n then dropped suddenly. n then maybe like. one tht actually Hurt bt they cnt avoid each other bt theyre actively pretending each other doesnt exist n its. hurtful bc it ws like. actually smth nice bt <3 ykno FKLFSDHG

hey hey heyy c’maahn i’m just a little guy ;; n this is the vast amt of ppl tht gabe hs probably. pissed off n hs either fought or been on the verge of fighting just. unable 2 resist a good bicker-turned-duel.

just blistering in the sun ;; they cld b close friends bt also they cld also not b bt just ppl who. indulge in bad impulsive decisions with gabe. general bad influences on each other’s health n just. no good! party hard bt at what cost.

n also ;; like ... rly solid good friendships ... flings n maybe an exe or two tht either ended on good terms or just. horrendous, ppl they’ve distanced frm, ppl also frm up north, piercing customers, bt not tattoo customers bc im p sure they’d get fired if they were just tattoo’ing ppl willy nilly, etc.

#( gabriel de leon. ) about. / imaginary enemy.#irvingintro #violence tw

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jorisjurgen · 3 years ago

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Wouldst thou carest to answereth thy ask game with the prompteth of Snatcher?

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, MUTUAL ON ANON, DFKGHG, and the fact that you sent this in downright Shakespearean is so funny.

[ask game]

1. Headcanon A: realistic

This is also a contestant for 3rd place in this but I think this one is slightly less sad: When he first became what he is, and started needing souls to survive, he hated himself for it and tried to resist the hunger for as long as possible, and maybe just starve. He couldn't. Maybe his first victim was a subconite soul, or a living traveller who heard that Something happened in the kingdom, and was looking for their friends or family, afraid, for that day they had unfortunately traveled there. Either way, he feeds, for the first time, and feels more alive than he had in ages. And he continues to feed, despite guilt and sadness, though not on subconites. Never them, he'd rather go outside to find somebody than do that.

And he continues to survive. Existing, feeling warmth, no matter by which means, feels good, as does becoming more powerful. He hates being powerless, defenceless, and at the full mercy of someone. He can't ever feel that way again, even if he has to become a bad person to avoid it.

I think that the point when he truly and fully stops hating himself for it, and embraces being "evil" though, is when he gave subconites their new bodies. Because now there was a way to at least slightly mend the wound Vanessa left on Subcon and fix it, give a new life to it and it's dwellers, and he had people whom he needed and wanted to protect, besides himself and his desire to continue on living no matter who it takes.

2. Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

I think that the whole deal with him dying made him rethink a lot of things, by which I mean...What if he's a monarchy abolitionist and an anarho communist jficusjd? Fjdigj. This ideology only working for subcon because literary everybody, including him is: undead, agrees on literary 90% of things, has shared trauma, and directly depends on outsiders dying for survival is even funnier to me.

He NEVER makes any reference to being any sort of royalty or even nobility, even as a joke, no matter how appropriate that would be at any moment, just positioning himself as a leader and a protector to subcon, and an villain to everything else, nothing more. He jokes about being murdered by his abuser, without a single prince nobility pun. Without knowing his history, to people he's just Some Guy, albeit a powerful undead one, who likes making jokes about being 1. a gamer 2. a lawyer, 3. traumatized, while eating people's souls and reading books.

His crown just sits gently abandononed, in a ruined building with his other past belongings, as he lives in a cozy tree with an entirely new life he built from the ground up. He could have taken it as a memento at any point, but he seems to actively choose not to. All of this is fair, considering he is strongly implied to be a prince consort, and in that situation, a crown is kind of like... A wedding ring but much worse, I guess. The place, though, looks well visited, and taken care of, like a gravestone for a scrambled mess of memories and feelings about a cycle of really really good times, tension, and really really bad times, which never made sense and now never will.

Him trying his best to move on from his past, this crown business, and that one "ethical consumption under capitalism" empty book in one of the time rifts, makes this actually somewhat realistic to me, albeit actually extremely hilarious. Sorry for getting a bit waxing poetic about the comrade Snatcher headcanon.

3. Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Sometimes he feels like he still loves Vanessa. Maybe he actually still loves her. Maybe he misses her a lot, sometimes. Or at least the person she was when she before they were together, or when she wasn't yet at her worst, or at very least who she was during the good times. Maybe, though he tries to not think about it, he misses the bad parts too. Craves the rush of being afraid and on eggshells and in honeymoon and the tension the panic and the tearful apologies and promises to be Better going forward on her lips left unfulfilled, because something like that just messes with your brain, and not being hurt feels horrible, like you have to pick and scratch apart at an itcing wound.

When he first realized it, it left him wobbly and sick to his core. But he has made peace with it, since. Emotions don't make any sense, eapecially when all you can remember about your youth is just being in at least a little bit of pain all the time. He knows he doesn't actually want back, and he believes in that knowledge almost all the time.

The more he thinks about it, with actual years, and life of other experiences seperating him from that past... Yeah. He does miss her. Not the abuse, obviously. The actual good person in her who he thinks he saw, who may have died when she fell in love with him, or might've not even ever really existed in the first place, not that he could ever know which one it is, if either. He doesn't know if she herself knew, either. It will never make sense, he thinks. But he does know, at the very least, that he misses that person, even if there is nothing he could have ever done for her.

4. Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

He competitively plays fortnite and dark souls but only to inflict suffering on other people. He's really good at video games but only to make people angry. He loves making people Suffer in video games.

I have NO idea where in subcon he hides his gaming rig, but I refuse to believe that considering all the Gamer jokes in Seal the Deal he isn't one.

Another one, since this was kind of short, is that he likes sewing and making things, based on him making subconites their bodies out of fabric and a lot of the rewards in Seal the Deal deathwishes being clothes, maybe he even made Vanessa her dress, as a gift. That way you could explain one of the rewards in Seal the Deal being Vanessa's dress as, well, getting back at her in a couple of different ways, and also him feeling bad abour having come up with such a good design for a dress for the dumb epic divorcewoman who happens to be his ex.

#ask games #I hope this isnt too full of typos...#Made this at 3am #😔😳#I think about him a normal amount of time

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