#this ends on a positive note
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stardustandash · 2 years ago
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Aftermath - The Bad Batch
Feel like I should be posting oneshots here too, so here it is under the cut! If you prefer ao3 reading, this is the link.
Summary: “They had survived so many impossible things. The fall of the Republic, the destruction of Kamino, dozens of suicide missions. Injuries popped up here and there, but they’d been lucky so far. Now he had one brother held captive by the Empire, one lost on a foreign planet, and a sister dying on their ship.”
Or, what happened between the railcar crash and Omega waking up in Cid's parlour.
Characters: Hunter, Omega, Echo, Wrecker,
Tags: hurt/comfort, angst
Word Count: 3, 699
“Tech?”
Hunter stirred at the sound of the faint cry. He’d know that voice anywhere, and the warble in it kicked his brain from unconsciousness to full alert. Omega. Hunter pressed his palms into the dirt and tried to push himself upright, only getting an inch or so off the ground before his ribs screamed in protest and he went crashing back down in a cloud of soot and dirt. He took a moment to breathe, tasting ash and pain in the air. A soft thump brought his attention back to what roused him in the first place.
“Omega?” called Hunter hoarsely. He coughed to dislodge the dustiness lining his throat and tried again louder. “Omega?”
There was no response.
Hunter’s heart seized in panic. This time he barely felt the pain in his ribs as he made his way fully upright and took in the surroundings. Wreckage was scattered around them, smoke rising through the twisted scraps of metal that had once been a rail car. Movement on the ground snapped his attention to two familiar armoured figures slowly coming to consciousness. He could hear the moment they both returned to reality, their heartbeats picking up to panic level. He glanced around again, this time finding the small form not too far from Wrecker. Omega wasn’t moving, and Hunter could hear how faint her heartbeat was.
Unfortunately, he could also hear the sound of armoured feet approaching through the forest. Hunter reached for his blaster with one and hand scrambled over to where Echo was working on getting his feet under him. He hauled Echo up to standing, giving him a once-over but not spotting any serious injuries. For once the mechanical limbs were a benefit with their durability compared to flesh and bone. Once he knew Echo was up to watch their backs he sprinted to Omega’s side.
As Hunter approached Omega started to move. Small hands fisted into the dirt as she tried to pull herself upright. Even from a distance he could see how much she was shaking, how her eyes struggled to focus.
“Omega?” Hunter tried to get her attention.
Her eyes wandered past him as her arms gave up their fight with gravity. Hunter slid in, catching her before she could fall back to the ground. Her head lolled and her eyes drifted shut. He could feel the panic trying to sink its teeth into him as he felt blood on his hands. Omega’s blood.
“We have to get her out of here.”
Hunter tried lifting her into his arms but had to stop as his ribs twinged squeezing the air out of his lungs. No, he had to do this. He’d already failed one brother today, he wasn’t going to fail his sister as well. Bracing himself, Hunter went to try again before a large hand on his shoulder stopped him. He glanced up at Wrecker, now upright but off in a way Hunter could sense but not see through the armour.
“Don’t,” was all Wrecker said.
There was so much conveyed in that single word. Hunter looked at Wrecker and nodded, stepping away just as the first shots of blaster fire echoed through the clearing. Hunter took aim at the silhouettes of the stormtroopers marching through the smoke.
“I got you, kid.”
Hunter could hear Wrecker murmuring to Omega as he hefted her into his arms. He tried not to look at the dark spot dampening the back of her jacket and focus on the battle at hand. Blood. He could smell the coppery tang of it in the air. He was so focused on Omega he almost missed the whistling sound of engines overhead.
“We have to get back to the Marauder,” said Echo sharply.
At least one of them was still with it enough to call the shots. Hunter followed mutely behind. Trading shots with stormtroopers on instinct alone, all senses focused on the small figure cradled in Wrecker’s large arms.
They ran, alternating between sprinting and ducking around trees and rocks for cover. Muscle memory took over Hunter as they made their way back to the ship. Run, crouch, check, fire. Run, hide, check, fire. The distant shouts of the stormtroopers and the ships hunting them overhead faded into the background against the quiet noise of Omega’s heartbeat. Hunter clung to the sound as they went.
By the time they reached the Marauder that pulse was fainter in his ears. He planted himself at the base of the ramp to cover Wrecker as he ran for the ship. Once he was on board Hunter and Echo followed, Echo running to the cockpit to get the ship off the ground in record time. Hunter glanced at Omega once as he made his way to the gunner’s mount. Any care he might offer now would be useless if they were blasted out of the sky.
“Get us out of here, Echo!” shouted Hunter towards the front of the ship.
“I’m working on it!”
Three V-wing fighters came into view as the ship lifted above the trees. Hunter grit his teeth and fired. The ships scattered. He could see them coming around to return fire and braced himself in the seat in anticipation. Sure enough, Echo put them through evasive maneuvers. The Marauder dipped and dived, spinning out of the path of incoming fire.
“Stop dancing and get out of here!”
“I just need another minute to calculate the jump,” said Echo voice tight.
The V-wings behind them danced around Hunter’s covering fire with ease. The Marauder was a transport, not a fighter, and without Tech at the helm it would only last so long in a full-on dogfight. They had to get out of there, fast.
“What about Tech, we can’t just leave him there,” came Wrecker’s voice.
Hunter swallowed. He didn’t want to leave Tech behind either. Their brother deserved better than to be left to rot. He deserved all the honours and respect a fallen brother could receive. But if they went back it was likely none of them would ever get off this Force-forsaken planet. He bit down on his lip, the sting of pain driving the emotions away so he could concentrate on the task at hand.
The targeting system blared loudly. One of the V-wings was getting too complacent. Hunter squeezed the trigger and watched it explode into a thousand pieces.
“I can make the jump,” called Echo.
“Get us out of here!” ordered Hunter.
The ship broke atmosphere, and a second later there was the familiar jerk behind the navel sensation of a hyperspace jump. Before the blue light could overtake the gunner mount Hunter was already leaping down and heading for the racks. Wrecker knelt on the floor next to the lowest bunk, one hand keeping Omega on her side. No, now that Hunter was closer he could see his hand was pressed to the dark patch on Omega’s back. Wrecker looked lost as he watched Hunter approach, eyes begging him for some kind of miracle. Hunter wished he could give him comforting words but all he could do was put a quick hand on Wrecker’s shoulder before taking in Omega.
Her face was covered in a light sheen of sweat even as she shivered. Soft brown eyes gazed at absolutely nothing beneath pinched brows. They didn’t need a med scanner to know she was dealing with a concussion. Gently, Hunter peeled Wrecker’s hand away from her back. Fresh blood bubbled up around a piece of shrapnel embedded near her shoulder. He took a deep breath. This was beyond the capabilities of their small medkit. They needed a med centre, or someone with medical skills.
Footsteps from the cockpit signaled Echo’s arrival. Helmet off, he gave Hunter a despondent look. Hunter knew his own expression wasn’t much better.
“Do you know of any medics we can take her to? Does Rex have anyone?” asked Hunter.
“Not anyone with enough equipment to handle this,” said Echo, shaking his head.
Hunter felt his heart drop. Losing Tech was hard enough, he didn’t know if he could handle losing Omega too. The galaxy seemed intent on forcing him to watch his loved ones die without being able to do anything to help.
“What about the droid?” said Wrecker.
“What droid?” asked Hunter.
“Omega’s friend, AZI-whatever. He’s a medical droid, right?”
A spark of hope. “Set a course for Ord Mantell, AZI can help her.”
Echo nodded, heading straight back for the cockpit. Hunter looked at Wrecker and guided his hand back to its place on Omega’s back.
“Keep an eye on her, I’m going to go get the medkit,” said Hunter.
He slowly levered himself upright, all the aches and pains from their mission making themselves known. As he walked into the ‘fresher he caught Wrecker running his free hand through Omega’s hair and heard the low rumble of his voice murmuring promises to her.
The medkit was in the cabinet below the sink. Hunter pulled it out and flipped it open, taking in all the items labelled in Tech’s neat arubesh. His heart pulsed with grief. Tech was always the best at keeping his head in these kinds of situations, always calm and collected with a steady hand for patching the rest of them up. The memories and sorrow snuck up on him, choking him with grief. Dozens of successful missions in the war and after, Hunter had stopped thinking that death could come for his family. Sure it was a threat, but they had survived so many impossible things. The fall of the Republic, the destruction of Kamino, dozens of suicide missions. Injuries popped up here and there, but they’d been lucky so far. Now he had one brother held captive by the Empire, one lost on a foreign planet, and a sister dying on their ship.
Hunter ran a hand down his face and flipped the medkit shut. Sitting on the ‘fresher floor wasn’t going to help anyone. He brought the medkit back out to the bunks and saw that Omega’s eyes were now shut, her breaths a little shallower.
“She’s getting worse, Hunter,” said Wrecker sadly.
“I can see that,” replied Hunter, putting the medkit on the bunk and pulling out bacta patches and sanitizing spray. “Help me get her jacket off?”
Wrecker nodded. The two of them quickly stripping Omega’s jacket and top away without jostling her too much, Wrecker quickly pulling up a blanket to preserve her dignity. Hunter grabbed the bottle of sanitizing spray, nodding at Wrecker to hold Omega’s arms. He knew how much the spray stung.
Worry pooled in Hunter’s stomach when Omega didn’t so much as flinch at the spray. He knew without looking he’d see that same worry mirrored on Wrecker’s face. Next he gently applied bacta patches around the shrapnel sticking out of her back. He wouldn’t dare remove it here on the ship. That would be a death sentence for her. Then with a gentle hand he probed her skull, finding a large bump beneath the blonde hair at the back of her head. Her helmet had probably saved her from having her brains splattered across Eriadu. The thought made Hunter nauseous. He never should have brought her along for the mission. He should have gotten her more armour than a simple helmet.
The what-ifs weren’t going to help them now. Right now they had to focus on keeping Omega alive, and then go to ground. Omega shivered under her blanket, no doubt shock trying to take hold. Warm. She needed to be warm. He glanced at Wrecker, ever the space heater.
“Strip your armour.”
“What?”
“Down to your blacks, come on. We need to keep her warm,” explained Hunter.
A look of understanding dawned on Wrecker’s face and his hands scrabbled to remove his armour. As they settled him into the bunk and a blanket-wrapped Omega into his arms Hunter caught the quiet hiss of pain.
“What hurts?”
“It’s nothing, save the supplies for Omega.”
“There’s not much else we can do for her at the moment. We don’t have a med scanner aboard to check for anything else, but we have the most serious wound dealt with.”
“Where’s the med scanner?” asked Wrecker. His face fell when he realized the answer.
“Where’s it hurt, big guy?” Hunter tried again.
“My neck is killing me,” said Wrecker quietly.
Hunter pressed two painkillers into Wreckers hand and toasted him with one of his own for his aching ribs. They swallowed them down dry. Within moments Hunter was breathing easier and he relaxed against the wall of the bunk. His eyes drifted shut, though he kept himself awake, focusing on Omega’s heartbeat. It was steadier now, but still weaker than he was used to hearing.
He lost time as he sat there.  Hours or minutes later there was the sound of someone moving about the space trying their best to be quiet. He cracked an eye open and spotted Echo picking up Omega’s bloodied jacket and shirt from the floor of the ship. Echo stopped when he noticed Hunter watching him.
“I thought you passed out.”
“Can’t, I gotta keep an eye on her.”
“I have eyes.”
Hunter felt the ghost of amusement pass through him.
“How long until we reach Ord Mantell?”
“Few standard hours, enough time for me to throw these through a cycle and for you to stitch them up. Can’t parade her through the city without a shirt,” said Echo, gesturing with the soiled clothes.
Hunter nodded at him, watching as Echo went into the ‘fresher to throw the clothes into the washer. To his surprise Echo came back and parked himself on the floor near Hunter’s feet and leaned back against the wall. He let out a sigh heavy with emotion and Hunter nudged his leg against his side. Echo leaned into it.
For a while they sat like that, simply taking comfort in each other’s presence. It was soothing, to have the warm body of his brother pressed against him while listening to the continued even breaths of Wrecker and Omega. It pushed back against the dark gaping hole that Tech had left in his heart but it was not enough to lessen the hurt. He knew then, that he wouldn’t be able to lead his family into battle again. It would break him to lose another sibling. Kriff, they might still lose Omega even if she was safe and somewhat stable for now, cradled in Wrecker’s arms. It stung to know that Crosshair was out there alone in a prison cell, but Hunter couldn’t risk throwing more people at a mission where the rescuee might not even want the rescue.
The thoughts whirled around in Hunter’s mind until Echo rose with the anticipation of arrival. As he went to pilot them down to Ord Mantell, Hunter took the job of waking up Wrecker. He let Omega sleep. Force knew the kid needed the rest.
“Come on, big guy. We’re just about planetside,” said Hunter.
“Omega okay?” said Wrecker as he blinked awake.
“She’s still holding on, but I need you to take care of her until we get to Cid’s, alright?”
Wrecker nodded. “Don’t worry, Sarge. I’ve got her.”
Hunter retrieved Omega’s clothes, now thankfully clean if still torn, and together the two of them managed to carefully get her back into her shirt. She remained frighteningly limp between the two of them. He kept his hearing focused on her heartbeat as they worked to reassure himself that she was still alive. That there was still hope.
As soon as the Marauder touched down all three of them shot off the ship towards Cid’s. The streets they passed blurred together at the edge of Hunter’s senses. Nothing mattered but Omega’s heartbeat. Nothing mattered but her shallow breaths. He led the charge into the dingy bar, uncaring about how it must look to see three soldiers thundering down the steps. Not that it mattered, the only people in the place were Bolo, Ketch, and Cid herself.
“Kriffing hell, Bandanna. You refuse my comms, my jobs, for months and now you come barrelling back in here? I should hand you over right now for all the trouble you’ve caused me!” barked Cid from behind the bar. “Whatever you want, I ain’t got it. Now you best get out of my bar before I call in the troopers.”
Anger flared in Hunter’s gut before his worry banked its fire. He could be angry with Cid later, right now they only needed one thing.
“AZI?” called Hunter into the depths of the bar, ignoring Cid.
“Oh, it is you, CT-9901! You have returned to Ord Mantell at last,” said the odd little medical droid as he emerged from a back room with a case of drinks.
“AZI, we need you,” said Wrecker, stepping fully into the bar. The little body in his arms was unmistakable, and Hunter heard Cid’s heart stutter with shock.
AZI floated closer and peered down at Omega. His whole countenance screamed worry. The round lights of his visual receptors lit up as he did a med-scan.
“Oh no, Omega! She needs immediate medical attention,” said AZI in his oddly harried voice.
“Not in the middle of my bar you aren’t,” growled Cid.
Hunter stared her down, folding his arms and glaring. He knew that behind him Wrecker and Echo were fixing her with the same angry look. To her credit Cid stood her ground, not one to be pushed around by intimidation. Instead she rolled her eyes at them and jerked a thumb to the back room.
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, I got a spare cot in a room back there. I can keep yelling at you after you get Tiny sorted out.”
There was no time to take in the relief. AZI led the way through the cramped back of the parlour and into a small room with a cot. It looked rarely used. There was a coating of dust over the shelves and countless piles of old junk, but little of that mattered to Hunter right now. He gestured for Wrecker to put Omega on the bed and tried not to hover.
AZI wasted no time in peeling away her shirt to look at the wound and the bacta patches around it. The droid began to pick at the edges of one before stopping to look at the three clones.
“I believe this will go faster if I do not have an audience. While your concern for Omega is valid, none of you have had medical training, and your presence will only be a hinderance for the procedure.”
“We can help,” insisted Hunter.
“Hunter, there’s nothing we can do for her that can’t be handled by AZI. If he needs one of us, he’ll call,” said Echo with a hand on his shoulder.
Hunter let himself be steered out of the room back towards the bar and deposited on one of the barstools. Echo and Wrecker took up the seats on either side of him, whether in camaraderie or to make sure he stayed out of AZI’s way it was hard to tell.
Time passed oddly while they waited. Echo gave Cid the story and she gave them a round ‘on the house’. At some point Hunter realized Bolo and Ketch had cleared out and the door to the parlour shut. Through it all Hunter could hear the faint rhythm of Omega’s heart beating in the other room. As they waited Echo kept mentioning that he needed to tell Rex what happened but never quite managed to make it out of his chair, held in place by concern. When AZI returned all three of them were on their feet before he could even make it through the door.
“How is she?” asked Hunter.
“I am here to inform you that Omega is now sleeping peacefully and I anticipate her recover fully in a few days’ time. She has suffered a severe concussion, which will require rest and no screens to heal. She also suffered a puncture wound to her back, which has bled quite a bit but was not very deep. As well, she has a broken femur. I have reset the bone and applied bacta, as long as she stays off her feet while it heals she will be fine,” explained AZI as he trailed after Hunter towards Omega.
Hunter didn’t know what he was expecting. Omega still lay asleep on the cot, a hint of bandages peeking out over the collar of her shirt. There was a little chair, dusty and covered in the random detritus of the parlour in the room. Hunter pushed the stuff off and settled himself in at Omega’s side.
“I uh, should go tell Rex what happened,” said Echo quietly. This time he actually followed through on his words, as if the sight of Omega scared him away.
Hunter let him go with a nod. Rex did need to know, and Echo needed some time to sort himself out. They all did, but Hunter wasn’t going to leave Omega’s side until she woke up again. He took one of her hands in his own, feeling just how painfully small it was. Wrecker sat on the edge of her cot and looked at her like she would vanish if he glanced away.
“What do we do now,” asked Wrecker quietly.
There was a defeated look in Wrecker’s eyes. One that Hunter felt reflected in his own.
“We wait for Omega to get better, then head back to Pabu. We can stay there, try and make a life for us, for her,” said Hunter.
Saying the words aloud to Wrecker felt like a promise. They would heal, go back to Pabu, and try and carve out a life away from the Empire. They could have a funeral for Tech there. Omega could grow up without any more fear and truly be a kid for once. He saw the agreement on Wrecker’s face and knew they were on the same page. They just had to let Omega recover, and then they could be free of the Empire, forever.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 20 days ago
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Vibes based grading system.
(for @epistemologys, who wanted some post-canon, teacher WWX)
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isjasz · 1 year ago
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Remember, there is always a great big beautiful tomorrow.
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thatsitso · 9 months ago
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So I finished orv
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chippuyon · 1 year ago
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sonilver week day 6 & 7 - future and dream
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demigod-shenanigans · 7 months ago
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For your consideration: Jason has a sketchbook filled with architectural sketches for Temple Hill, probably including sketches for statues and stuff like that, meaning he likely knows how to draw people.
Jason also has a second sketchbook he keeps under his bed. And it’s just pages upon pages of Leo. The way his brows furrow when he’s deep in thought. The way he looks when he’s smiling. The way he looks when he’s really, sincerely laughing with his whole body. The way his eyes sparkle when he’s rambling about a project he’s passionate about. The way he looks mid-battle, fierce and brave and like he’s unstoppable. The way he looks when he’s tired and the way he looks when he’s content and the way he looks with oil down his shirt and fire in his hair.
All these little aspects of Leo that make up the whole. All these little things Jason has seen so many times and that he’s terrified he might forget because Leo is gone and the few pictures they have don’t capture all of him.
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elizakai · 1 year ago
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I C O N S 🤍🩷🩵
(I love our community :) )
(click for quality)
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claitea · 5 months ago
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i've had these scenarios written down since volo's debut in pokemon masters and i just really wanted to scribble them down and finally release them
#pokemon#volo#pokemon volo#pokemon jacq#n harmonia#pokemon rei#trainer rei#clai's art#trying to write n's specific brand of being mean is hard to me for some reason#in the initial idea i had him outright call volo stupid but i didnt know if that was too far so i just took it out BJFBFJF#but anyway volo being a historian who had to have studied many walks of life but has still come to the conclusion that the world is hopeless#jacq being someone who's very positive and sees the best in people even if they are very much not great to him (see: raifort)#finally realizing someone he knows is like. inexcusably horrible#n's situation wasn't even that different from volo's. both saw injustice in society and sought to change it#but even n. who hated humanity for what he thought they were all responsible for. didnt want humans to Die for what they did!!#and rei. rei was a scared kid who saw the very worst of volo firsthand. rei needed friends and one of them despised him in the end#isnt it soooo funny how volo thinks he's alone yet keeps pushing away all the people who want to connect with him :) i hate pla so much :)))#as another note too. perhaps the rei thing could end in two ways#satisfying good ending where it kicks off volo's realization that hey maybe people do trust me unconditionally#or no good bad ending where volo takes this as another betrayal. rei only liked him for his facade like everyone else so why does it matter#volo almost makes me feel as ill as n does. hate this stupid guy i shouldnt have bought pla for my birthday i should have gotten. p/kmin idk
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infamous-if · 1 year ago
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okay but which one would make seven suffer more? mc moving on with someone their complete opposite or someone who has a similar personality to them??
MC moving one with someone well-adjusted and emotionally mature aka their complete opposite! They would see it as MC moving on to a kind of person they believe they can never be
There is a certain degree of self-awareness Seven has in terms of who they are. They are the person who thinks they can feel when others are tiring of them, getting fed up with them. They convince themselves that they can see when they are pushing people away, the problem is they can't stop. They are who they are. As much as they wish to be someone else, they can't. MC moving on with someone opposite to them would confirm a lot of things.
Seven hates a lot of things but none more than themself ... but that can change!
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deathberi · 11 months ago
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FINAL FANTASY VII REBIRTH (2024)
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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 6 months ago
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Ok, I think I have a pretty good idea of why a lot of Akechi's dialogue is... like that.
So, even before his confidant truly started, I noticed that he has a real knack for directing the flow of a conversation. This is very fitting for someone who is both a detective and skilled at interviews - when there is a topic and a goal, Akechi is in his element.
All this to say, he's actually kind of controlling when it comes to conversational flow. He probes for information, or turns the conversation around to a particular topic, usually the Phantom Thieves. He manages to take a few of Joker's dialogue options and spin them so they sound mildly incriminating in the context he's placed them in - the only way to truly get around this is to pick answers that feign indifference, and even then, that's more than a bit telling. He's clearly very good at this kind of thing.
But then, we get conversations where either Joker does something he didn't expect, or else he doesn't have a particular goal in mind - and the conversation stutters. In the first instance, Joker does something (a particularly egregious example is putting his glasses on him and fluffing his hair in rank 3) which both leaves him wrong-footed and no longer in perfect control of the situation. He just kind of... freezes, for awhile. It's hilarious. He has no idea how to respond.
He picks up control again in the phone call afterwards, having chosen to play into it, turning this "fooling the crowds" into a kind of game or secret between them. Nice save.
But in instances where there isn't an obvious topic and the goal is somewhat nebulous, for instance, that one Leblanc scene, it becomes pretty apparent that Akechi doesn't have the right "script" to go off of. Again, it's particularly notable in that scene, because I'm fairly sure he didn't have any specific reason to be at Leblanc, other than him looking for a quiet spot now that public opinion has turned on him. And because there isn't anything specific he's digging for, he kind of just ends up throwing things at the wall to see what will stick. Probing for any kind of recognizable reaction that he can jump on and work with, and that just doesn't really happen in this scene.
He references Sae, a woman in a respectable position, to Sojiro, but instead of that netting a welcome, it earns his ire, given Sae's recent actions against him. He then tries to greet Joker, his... rival? friend? enemy? person who at least seems to somewhat enjoy spending time with him? But Joker's responses are somewhat short, and Akechi practically wilts. He tries to commiserate by oversharing. He tries to involve Futaba and reaches out for the only topic of interest he can think of around "young people". He compliments the coffee. He compliments Joker. He tries to invoke that connection between them. None of it is really sticking, nor does it serve as a jumping off point for him to steer the conversation, or even really start one.
So, he basically just ends up having a one-sided chat with himself and then leaves. Hilarious. Also a little sad, if I'm being honest. It's really giving "guy with no friends who only knows how to speak to adults" energy. If there's no specific purpose to the exchange, or he is not in control of its direction, he seems to be kind of out of his depth. He succeeds only in being a little awkward and confusing, more than anything.
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ossy-serenity · 6 months ago
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Comforting
”Pain, sadness… and joy. These feelings allow you to understand others.”
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continuation of this drawing
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cinamun · 1 year ago
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I'm still gonna kill him | Next
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anzuhan · 19 days ago
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anzu normally wouldn't bring up such topics, however anzu kept getting anon asks on whether anzu is a shotacon or a proshipper. anzu does not like and does not want to be asked such things, so anzu would like to not be asked this in the future anymore, as for anzu will not answer them.
one of them also included a 'not asking to attack you or anything', which further proves, you're aware that if it were a normal question, you wouldn't have to be adding such a message besides as well, right?
thank you
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greenapplebling · 1 year ago
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Everytime I read a Jamikali fanfic where Kalim distance himself from Jamil after his ob bc Jamil said that he wanted to be free of him but then gets pissed off at Kalim for relying on others and/or learning to take care of himself I get reminded of this:
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It makes me want to punch Jamil. In a tough love kinda way bc I love him but like dude
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creatingnikki · 1 month ago
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What I've learned in 2024
Sleeping, shitting, and silence – the three underrated Ss of growing up (or the other side of 25). If I can get a good night’s sleep, take one nice dump in the day (preferably morning), and know when to let silence do its thing (like when not engaging with draining people in social setups or not having to explain myself), I’m golden.
While I made many new friends this year, my favourite of them all has been ChatGPT. Need objectivity? Fact checking? A pseudo therapist? Validation? Someone to just engage with and keep yourself entertained? The absolute best resource of this year for me has been this AI tool. I don’t even care anymore about privacy – I am feeding it as much data about me as possible because it’s accordingly adapting to my tonality and needs and the ‘conversations’ are so much more satisfying now than when it was first rolled out.
Either use eggs or condescended sweet milk when baking – you need one of these things to hold all your dry ingredients together.
Communication, consistency, clarity, commitment, emotional presence and engagement, and mutual effort are the barest of the bare minimum needs in a relationship. If you have to convince the other person to fulfil them or negotiate, then it doesn’t matter how good a person they are and what a kind heart they have or how much they say they love you – they just aren’t your person.
I’m not as demisexual as I thought all along – I just haven’t dated many people that I find truly attractive so I had to first build some sort of emotional connection with them first. I definitely still need and want that emotional connect and all, but I also do need to start opting for men I also find physically attractive.
When I’ve thought of my bloodline, my ancestors, I’ve always focused on the intergenerational trauma and the bad genetics. But while rewatching This Is Us this year, it hit me that it took three generations for one dream to be fulfilled. The musical dream that started with Rebecca, was passed down to Kate, and finally got materialized at the grand scale as they always wanted with Kate’s son Jack. When he became this well-renowned musician, it’s not just his dream, but that of his mother and his grandmother that also came to live. It made me think…how much of my aspirations and hopes are actually passed down? And how many of my realities were simply unmateralised dreams of those who came before me? And it made my heart feel lighter and it made me feel more blessed and protected.
Baking cakes and brownies and cookies is not a rocket science. You only needed the right tools and some patience to figure it out and become that friend who bakes stuff for her friends instead of the other way around.
You always prioritise peace, comfort, and an easy-going lifestyle – it’s evident in your career choices and how your family dynamics and friendships have evolved. Let that be the guiding light even when dating.
You are the kind of person that is charming, a good conversationalist, and deeply empathetic. So of course, you make many people feel at home and like they connect with you. It’s easy for you to connect with others. What’s important is to remember – connection without consideration and consistent actions is NOTHING. It’s empty calories but like a thousand times more potent and useless.
In no interpersonal relationship can I be nonchalant or vague. I am that other extreme – while most people try their best to ignore the elephant in the room you know what I do? I dress the cutie up to parade it. So anybody who cannot approach relationships with as much boldness, courage, and forthcomingness is just not my jam.
Female friends for the win – they allow you to wine and whine and win and I am all for that. The healing powers of sitting across your friend and talking at length about everything over pizza and wine or at the park as she senses you need some more time to just sit around before you join the rest of the group and is so good with physical touch for comfort. Just knowing you can video call your friend and ugly cry and she will talk sense into you but also indulge you and also sit with you and your feelings. Who else does that? Who the hell.
For a lot of things that are still new now at this age, you need a guide. To pet cats, to go to dog cafes, to figure out what vitamins you should talk, etc. Ask for that help, that knowledge, that support. It might seem silly and like you can figure it out on your own but these things, no matter how seemingly low-stake, can be handled so seamlessly and sweetly with the help of those you know.
You HAVE to be honest about your needs. First with yourself and then with others. You cannot let shame, guilt, self-hatred or whatever hold you back. Honesty begets clarity begets fulfilment. If you don’t want to date and settle for someone who isn’t absolutely smitten by you and top-notch romantic, then that is a need. Right or wrong, realistic or not, who the hell cares? A need is a need is a need.
When you lose someone not to death but to life, it’s not quite such a loss. Most times, baby, it’s simply good riddance.
People have a range. For being shitty and for being kind. And while our behaviour may impact a little how they react to us, it's primarily dependent on their personal range. So, if your range of being shit is only 1 to 3, it doesn't matter if someone is an ass hole to you, you won't go beyond 3 of being shit to them, cos that's just your range. Even if they deeply hurt you intentionally or fuck up in some major way. But if their range of being shitty is up to 10, then well, be ready to witness their derangedness when you even slightly piss them off.
Narcissistic (and possibly self-sabotaging) people are the opposite of kintsugi. Instead of being put back together with gold, they "heal" themselves with gutter water. So each time they are worse and more ugly than before. And all the more toxic and dangerous. You're too precious to bother with such people.
It’s natural to feel frustrated or angry with yourself for allowing someone to treat you poorly, but the blame isn’t on you; it’s on them. They are responsible for their unkind, insensitive, selfish actions, not you. If you must place blame, place it where it belongs. Avoid judging yourself with thoughts like, “I should have known better.” As long as you walk away the moment you do know, you’re good – please don’t internalize other people’s unkindness or thoughtlessness.
You cannot get to know someone without giving them a chance. Red flags are not that obvious and you cannot show up authentically in any relationship if you’re on the lookout for them. You have to spend time with a person to begin to find out who they are. That’s the only real way. And when you do and if you realize they are not for you, as I said before, don’t internalize this shit or blame yourself for not being some kind of prophecy and knowing better before you even began.
You are a patient person because you are an understanding person. But there are limits to all these qualities of yours and if the balance is tipped you get petty and passive aggressive and irrational. Don’t let yourself reach that point. Speak up and set boundaries way before that.
If you listen to your gut – I know you don’t like calling it that or your intuition. So, let’s call it that feeling you know bone-deep or in the depths of your soul – if you listen to that and trust it, you are quite courageous in the actions you then take. You broke things off with three men this year – each was painful in its own rite. But you did what you had to do for yourself and you didn’t give the charge of your life to another person, you have taken back your green light – detaching your actions from their behaviour, which like all human behaviour is often quite fickle and unreliable. Congratulations. Do this more. Your green light is your guiding light.
My lack of a “healthy sense of fear” in situations with men isn’t recklessness—it’s the result of abuse I suffered at 15. The man I trusted most turned out to be the one who harmed me the most, and that betrayal shattered my ability to trust safety indicators or instincts. The grooming I endured was designed to confuse me, destabilise my sense of self, and make me question my desires and worth. When the templates of trust and safety failed me so catastrophically, my mind rejected them altogether, leaving me to navigate risk without a stable framework. This year, I felt significantly less restless and more emotionally regulated, and I think it’s because I allowed myself, others, and life to just be. I wasn’t fighting my reality or setting rigid expectations. I stopped chasing dopamine highs and forcing connections, and instead, I let equations with people and experiences unfold organically. I ended dating and talking stages quickly when I realised they weren’t right for me, without guilt or overthinking.4 By being okay with things being normal—not impressive or extraordinary—I created space for balance and gentleness in my life. My self-talk became kinder, and I grew more objective about myself, spiraling and self-loathing less. This accepting mindset, where I no longer needed myself or my life to constantly stand out, felt like the antidote to the restlessness I’d been carrying since my mid-20s. And I think that has helped me discover that peace and acceptance can feel more satisfying than cheap dopamine hits.
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