#what if the grief and the anger of the moment was bigger than the need to save the rest of the world

[hesperidia]

if there's endless timelines in the bsd universe then there's one where Atsushi refused to leave Akutagawa's corpse alone in that ship and perished with him after rampaging on Fukuchi

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝙼𝚛. & 𝙼𝚛𝚜. 𝙴𝚐𝚊𝚗_ _ _𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗?_𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐..___. . . .

S͟E͟T͟ A͟N͟Y͟T͟I͟M͟E͟ B͟E͟F͟O͟R͟E͟ E͟P͟I͟S͟O͟D͟E͟ 5

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚝𝚜𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐

@missusnora @eleanorbaybars

_ - _ - _- __-_ __—_

“just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough. just a second; we’re not broken just bent and we can learn to love again…”

You never thought you’d see yourselves like this.

“NO! NO MORE DODGING THIS! WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?!”

It should have never come to this.

“I’M RIGHT HERE IF YOU WOULD JUST LOOK AT ME! DAMNNIT WOMAN!”

But…it had to happen. The tension so tight, it finally snapped.

“You’re not because I AM looking at you, and I can see that you’re here but you aren’t here with me! You haven’t been for weeks!”

It was a normal day. He had a rare day off and you two were together so everything was supposed to be perfect. Only…it wasn’t. For weeks, everytime you spoke, everytime you were able to be together, even when you would glimpse him; he’d be so close but so far.

You knew he was hurting.

Over the lost boys, over Curt, over the despondence that the higher ups seemed to have with him, over his own internal griefs, struggles, and hopes. But with all his hurt…came a distance.

Acting like everything was okay. He’d be there in the moment but he didn’t live in it like he used to. He didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t bring it up. Most times, he was so far it felt like it wasn’t even listening to you.

Now, there’s a gap where your bond was. And it keeps getting bigger and bigger with everything you don’t say to each other.

Today was the last straw.

Talking to him and seeing that distance in his eyes while he stayed silent…

“Do you even still love me?!”

Hot tears run down your face as you stand in the living room barefoot. Looking up at him, your greatest love and hardest pain.

At first it was just anger, throwing the heels on your feet at him in the beginning, the screaming, frustration. But at this point? You were just tired and hurt of having to miss someone who’s right there.

“…What?” The question comes out hushed. John looking down at you in crestfallen disbelief, glassy blue eyes and furrowed brows.

You don’t think he loves you anymore?

“You think I don’t love you? Doll,” panic and desperation seep into him and it shows. Looking and sounding so pained that you can’t bear to look at him anymore. Teardrops stream from your face and hit the floor as you drop your head.

“You’re with me. I have you. But why do I still feel alone if I have you?” Your voice is shaking so bad but this needs to come out.

“It’s like I lost you to the war already with how hollow you’ve become. You won’t let me in. When I talk, it’s like you can’t hear me. You won’t let me comfort you. You won’t even reach out to Gale. Just retreating back into your thoughts that can’t possibly care for you the way I do…it’s like my John left and I’m stuck with his ghost.” The wave of held back emotions drown you and you wail, unbidden sobs wracking your body before John gently takes your face into his big, warm hands.

The familiarity of his touch makes your heart ache. You don’t even notice immediately that he was crying too. His silent tears cutting you to pieces.

John cries because it’s true. He has been in a weird place lately and he can’t seem to find his way out. He’s not good at not being the leader so he doesn’t know how to let others step in to help him when he needs it. So, he drowns himself in his thoughts, doubts, and regrets. Lets the distance he’s created hurt him some more. Because, he’s used to hurt. Until…it starts to hurt more than usual.

Until it ends up hurting you.

Nothing is allowed to hurt you. You’re one of the reasons he serves.

Bucky has seen so many things that can hurt you. He should have never let one of them be him.

“I’m so sorry bunny”. Bucky can’t take you crying. Your little hiccuping sobs are killing him. Closeness. Closeness, is what you both need right now. So, he doesn’t even bother with formalities before lifting you up into him. Wrapping your legs around his waist and tucking your head into his neck. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, wraps his big arm around you as he holds you, cries with you, and apologizes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m an ass. You’re right. I haven’t been here and none of that is your fault. But it is my fault for letting you feel this way. For making you feel like I don’t love you, when I do. I love you more than sleeping in, I love you more than winning, I love you more than every life I lived before.” The soft, low timbre of his voice makes you warm, like a soothing balm listening to him finally come back to you.

“You’re not alone because you do have me and I’m not alone because I have you. If I’m not anywhere else, the one place I’ll always be is in your heart. I’ll try harder to open up so we can be even closer. Nothing could ever compare to come close to your affection so don’t ever stop trying to reach me, okay? Even when the line is connected, stay on it, okay?” This is the most he’s bared himself to you and you bury yourself into him more.

“…okay..I love you too, Bucky.” Barely a whisper but he hears you. Pressing kisses all over the top of your head until you lift it to look into his eyes.

Time seems slower as you gravitate towards each other, eyes slipping closed when your lips meet in a tender kiss.

You missed him so much.

It’s perfect. The way your lips fit together, pushing before colliding back to one another. Breathing in the softness of your mouth, Bucky deepens the kiss. Holding the back of your head, you completely melt into him as light, wet sounds accompanied by picked up breaths; fill you and the atmosphere with pure warmth.

Bucky struggles to pull away first because he knows how he’ll get. He’s aching to make you feel better in any way he can but now really is not the time to let comfort to give way to passion.

“I missed you, bunny”. He presses his forehead to yours but the lovely way he speaks to you makes you blush. Suddenly feeling. . . shy.

“I missed you too”, voice as soft as you feel. Bucky readjusts you in his arms before heading towards the stairs.

“Well, let’s fix that. So we won’t have to miss each other when we’re together”.

“John Clarence Egan- !”

If he thinks he’s gonna cuddle and sweet talk his way into your panties after that fight, he’s dead right. (not standing on business at ALL)

“I meant; we could talk, bunny. Y’know, really catch up. Just want you with me, on everything this time.”

Oh.

Okay.

He means you two can bond.

The thought of that kind of intimacy in conversation; and with him, makes you love giddy as you practically purr in agreement, nodding your head.

Kissing the top of your head, Bucky carries you up to your shared bedroom. Happy that you two are going to be okay and that you’re staying with him; because with you is where his heart belongs.

Safe, with you.

[hiddenreamers]

Intros & Narrators - Lewis Hamilton

Synopsis: When insecurity clouds your mind again, Lewis is there to remind you that your self-doubt is an unreliable narrator.

WC: 622

As the cliché goes, “History repeats itself”.

Once again, you find yourself listening to the searing criticism of your own thoughts. The louder the voices scream at you to finally accept the embarrassment of your existence, the more you believe them. Perhaps you’re looking in the mirror for the first time in a long while; perhaps it’s your first time seeing how other people will always be bigger, bolder and braver than you could ever be. And what is there to do about such a fact except acceptance? You cannot wish yourself into being born someone else.

Your face feels hot from the tears. This pain in your chest… is it grief or relief at this epiphany? Tears blur your vision, making the world seem like a reflection in a dirty, broken mirror. It’s quite fitting actually - your world must be a broken mirror, cursing you with misfortune for seven lifetimes instead of seven years.

Maybe those of your kind do not deserve anything better.

His voice rips through the nagging in your brain; a snowdrop in February:

“What’s going on?”

A pleasantly warm hand, gentler than need be, wipes the tears running down your cheeks. The gesture is delicate, almost fearful. How naive of him to believe that tenderness befits you.

“Talk to me, please.”

But the answer is stuck in your throat. It comes out as a choked, desperate sob. Even with the most flowery language, people like him can never relate to seven lifetimes of misery. Could you make a soaring eagle understand that ants are stuck to the ground?

Seemingly, he doesn’t need your response. His arms engulf you in a tight hold; a fortress of solace. You can feel his warm breath against your neck. It comes and goes with inhales and exhales like the rolling waves of a calm sea.

And you let the tidal water wash over you.

Soon, the tears stop falling. Your hands don’t shake anymore. The painful truth of what you are still resounds in your head but it’s not as loud as before. Now, you can hear the world beyond it: the cars outside, the soft electrical hum of the fridge, the laboured breathing of a worried dog.

As words come back to you, Lewis is finally able to hear your answer to his question. Despite knowing what horrors you will tell him about, he still takes a walk with you through your mind. Not once does he interrupt you to share his opinion. He patiently listens to you, even though he’s heard every one of those stories before.

Then, a moment of silence. Lewis keeps staring at you but you avoid his gaze. You know that look in his eyes a little too well: a mixture of sadness, frustration and anger. 

Soaring eagles could never understand that ants are stuck to the ground.

Those warm, gentle hands hold your face once more. He forces you to look at him, to truly see the man in front of you and how he’s bursting at the seams with adoration.

“That little voice in your head that’s beating you down?” he asks.”Don’t listen to it, ever.” Lewis’s tone is stern - it’s not a request but a demand. “It’s an unreliable narrator.”

For a moment, those ravenous, sinister thoughts try to fight this notion. Hard as they can gnaw at your spirit, they continue to grow silenced. Wouldn’t the soaring eagle have a bigger perspective than the ant? When your mind is quiet once more, you finally realise that the truth of what you are lies within this moment, in the comfortable, joyous life with your lover.

In life, as it is with stories, you should never lay your trust in a narrator.

Check out other fics in the Ampersand Themed Works

[sunnysideaeggs]

some criticisms i have of episode 2. read the tags first please.

disclaimer: i am a targtowers’ stan first and foremost. that means: aegon, helaena, aemond and daeron. they’re my favorite characters. that’s where my ‘loyalty’ stands. everyone else (including alicent) comes after.

helaena’s grief should’ve been a bigger point in the episode. this is HER episode and aegon’s (i’m not complaining about him but her screentime was so low). everyone else, rhaenyra, alicent, yada yada is secondary.

alicent can light up candles for her enemy’s son but can’t even attend the funeral of her grandson 🙄 she doesn’t cry, curse the blacks, want to bathe in the blood of jaehaerys’ killers, or can even bring herself to say his name.

i love aegon’s performance. i love all of his grief manifested in rage and anger. he cries but he will kick everyone later. tom go get your emmy.

girl your daughter just lost a son and you want to talk about you fucking your bodyguard. i’m tired of her. helaena is with all right of ignoring her.

once upon a time there was a boy that loved horses 😭 jaehaerys my dear

a larys/aegon scene is all i could wish for. the cold mastery of secrets and torture combined with the unstoppable wrath of a wounded man. i need more of them.

i like how the funeral seems, by all accounts, normal but by helaena’s viewpoint everything is too much. the people claim for her showing support but it’s all noise. the carriage showing her little boy so that people know who to blame but it only reminds her more of what happened. he even looks like he’s sleeping.

tbh this scene shows how rhaenyra doesn’t fucking care about helaena and her children. the first thought she had when she heard of the news wasn’t to have compassion or empathy, but to do damage control and worry about her reputation.

lmao i don’t have a clue what daemon’s intentions and rationality is. he only cares about looking mighty and dangerous to other people even when he does dumb shit, then justifies it. he lives only for other people’s opinions but then everyone hates his ass lol. dilffailure.

also he’s the embodiment of living for a dick measuring contest he ends up losing. all of daemon’s behavior can be attributed to erectile dysfunction.

how the writers found time for an oc prostitute having a mommy kink scene with aemond but didn’t have more time for a longer scene with helaena and literally anyone is beyond me.

aemond talking about his regret for luke but not about the death of his nephew 💀 luke died like three years ago condal pls get over it. aemond would care more about jaehaerys than poor little luke.

some much needed baela character development. i love characters that are like the female version of their dad but then also fucking hate their dad lol

i liked the tidbits of the dragonseeds during the episode. i’d like some nettles too :) but i guess the only female and canonically black character is a little too much for this show amirite :)

of course daemon would never be able to bend to anyone he considers inferior, much less rhaenyra, who under any other circumstance would be seen as ‘lesser than him’. it reminds him of his failures. i’m glad we’re on the same page.

aegon never had a chance right? aegon was literally raised by hightowers in love with targaryens. he never would’ve been able to surpass viserys and rhaenyra in otto and alicent’s eyes. nothing he did could’ve changed that.

otto’s little laugh cost him a job lol. i’m sad we didn’t get his cats.

the focus on rhaenyra in the arryk/erryk fight is too much for me. once again, leave secondary characters have their moments instead of shoving r or a down my throat please. this is their especial moment, their last moment. rhaenyra being all 😨🧍🏼‍♀️ between their shots does nothing for the scene.

otto’s realization of his life’s work being flushed down the drain is so touching and painful in a way to me. he’s like tywin if he lived long enough to see cersei and tommen fuck everything up.

‘i have sinned’ ‘i do not wish to hear of it’ that’s peak cersei and tywin from that one scene when she confessed the incest.

daeron exists? yay. and once again i’m fucking tired of alicent not reacting to mention of daeron, not comforting helaena, bashing aemond, ignoring aegon. where’s the love for her children?

the scene of otto putting resting his face on his hands? chills. it should’ve lingered there. showcase otto’s regret? grief? idk. pity it just lasted half a second because we needed to see alicent once more.

from now on, alicent is cancelled for me. i don’t care anymore about her. any parent that leaves their child in distress to go fuck can eat shit. i gave that treatment to daemon in laena’s funeral and i’m giving it to her.

we have more sex scenes of alicent than we have of daemon and aegon combined. yet she’s the pious queen and they’re the lechers. condal please write accordingly.

how do i watch a show when i don’t care for the two main characters, because they’re cardboard cuts of women who don’t do anything? i don’t know.

[skinnypig2]

see, the thing about starfield, is that if i were my character - not just any space explorer, but specifically my character, as a member of Constellation, in the setting of starfield - i would be so content and happy in that life.

i would love the day-to-day domesticity of the lodge, being around people who not only enrich your life in an academic sense, but are truly family.

like, everything. the little things. the meals, the conversations, the debates, the learning, the helping and growing, the movie nights, the game nights, the quiet calm reading by the fire, the cookie days, wondering what Barrett is cooking, what Noel is currently researching, what book Cora’s reading at the moment. being part of everyone’s life as much as they’re all a part of yours and each others’. Helping Sarah through and overcome her fear, anger, grief, doubts. Falling in love and getting married?Helping Andreja open up to the rest of the group, growing closer as a family. The appreciation for science, history, art, culture, humanity. That eager excitement on the cusp of learning something new, either out in the field or among anxious chatter as Sarah calls a meeting. that inexhaustible wonder always ever so present. Visiting the Eye. I would love to spend some time up there, just learning all the equipment and how everything works. And hearing Vlad’s stories from his time in the Fleet. Hearing all their stories. And telling them mine. This positive feedback loop of care, wonder, love, learning, happiness, and hunger, intertwined.

And then traveling space together with the people you care about??! finally commissioning a bigger ship for us, being able to travel as a group on longer, further expeditions when the want or if the need arises. And the day-to-day that comes with that. The dynamic of being cramped on a ship, sure, but it doesn’t matter because you’re with people you love, all doing something you love. Being among the beauty of the cosmos, encountering so many interesting people, the thrill of piloting, even the routine maintenance, and the tired evenings after a day of exploration. Peering into space for hours contemplating everything. Landing on a barren moon and basking in its serenity. Being awestruck at the beauty of a planet lush with diverse life.

It is so much but it is all wonderfully appealing.

More than just an interesting pipe dream – It would be truly fulfilling for me.

Insane how deeply this game resonates with me. How it speaks to me and appeals to this side of me which I love, but has been so starved. “You’re part of Constellation now…” -yes, Sarah, you don’t know much I actually wish that were true.

Is that fucking stupid?

[findmeinthefallair]

Therapist Analysis of Hunter's Mental Health in For the Future

Ok, getting down to business and writing this meta at last..(delayed thanks to physical health issues that manifested)..

Throughout most of the ep, leading up to the climactic scenes, we see a new kind of manner in which Hunter is responding to psychological pain, drastically different from what we got used to seeing:

I don't think we've seen him this irritable ever before. There is 99% no recoiling, retreating or shrinking back in his body language except here:

Instead, we see him marching forward, almost like how an animal makes itself look bigger to scare others off, with a singled-minded laser-like focus. But he is in deep anguish.

In addition, he maintains physical distance, unlike his usual self who would want to check on everyone and make a physical effort to feel like he is part of the group. His own mind is more than enough of a rollercoaster to handle in the wake of bereavement, which is why he's keeping the others at arm's length to not be overwhelmed:

(..sorry, I miss the chicken onesie and obviously want to upload 30 pics of him in this post too lol)

The fear of Belos himself, has become more like a fear of feeling the emotional pain caused by Belos, if that makes sense. Stopping Belos is all that matters to him now because his new greatest fear is the pain of bereavement related to losing Flapjack, and that it would be in vain.

It's a crazy massive shift in what he's most afraid of.

He has a strong sense of urgency but it's a world away from how he wanted his thoughts to be as far away from Belos as possible, back in Labyrinth Runners. Instead, Belos is now occupying pretty much every thought he has:

and jfc, I felt so sad seeing this shift: because it reminded me how trauma and its aftermath can take you further away from your real self, in more than one way or direction.

Instead of being numb (a necessity for his mind to protect itself and for him to survive, while he hid from the Emperor's Coven search party back then), it's more a rawness that's present in his emotions in this episode.

Different kinds of pain/fear require different means to be suppressed or numbed out.

He won't allow himself to go to that place of being directly in touch with that raw pain, or else he cannot accomplish the goal of stopping Belos. Anger is after all a secondary emotion, usually protecting emotions like sadness. Clients often choose to come to therapy once they sense they need guidance to go to this painful emotional place, if they can't do it on their own. It's having to remove the band-aid, see what's there (which can be scary and quite unpleasant) and clean out the wound with care.

Hunter needs to maintain this armored state of mind in order to not fall apart (he already did this to a lesser extent when he cried right after Flapjack faded away: that wasn't a long cry, and he didn't even sob), and to subconsciously minimize the chance of going through what's called emotional flooding. He gets close at times to being overwhelmed by flooding, but never gets totally reeled into it, unlike the scenes where he darted out of Eda's house (Hollow Mind) or became trapped and curled up in the first panic attack he had in Labyrinth Runners.

If you notice, him shielding himself psychologically in For the Future like this means he automatically resists moments of emotionally connecting with anyone, subconsciously seeing this as a threat. A very notable example of this can be seen in how he reacts to Clover and Emmi here:

Because emotional connection with any of his loved ones might make him unprepared for a face-off with Belos that could happen literally any second. These quick mental calculations could all be happening in his head subconsciously, while he is reacting and being on edge like this, with a lot of adrenaline putting him in this mode.

However, it's important to note that he isn't completely consumed by this grief response, and his heart was definitely not completely hardened, because other familiar sides of him can be observed e.g. looking out for others:

He makes an effort to be as patient as he can, giving Luz and the others quite a bit of space to lead, though he can't hide the rawness from appearing on his face. It's telling how he has never been an aggressive, pushy personality, and he only veered in that direction in S2A out of fear that he would not please Belos (there was the risk of him literally being cast out and abandoned by his former 'caregiver').

Below is the part of the ep where the tone shifts, after the others call attention to his emotional needs (having love expressed to him, being noticed, etc):

and it's the part of him that we already knew existed, the deepest part that wants someone to reach out and connect with him:

It's a core part that never vanished:

but was just buried down beneath his anguish.

I believe he no longer put up resistance using his emotional armor because he realized deep down that this need to receive love/care was just as important as getting justice for Flapjack, if not more. His support network was going to help him get justice and he had to lean into that and trust in that. He must've realized that both those needs for love and justice are not mutually exclusive.

Anyhow..after Willow, Gus and Luz reach out to him lovingly, while Amity and Camila are also giving him their quiet attention, we can already observe his expression softening. When Willow and Gus leave the room, he runs out of the room after them, calling out their names:

and this easily segways into his heart softening, and the walls beginning to come down in a healthy environment (the trusted good company of his friends):

These were such good signs that not only was he thawing out: he could also begin to hold (and express) multiple emotions at once, instead of letting only one of them (the raw hardened anger) hijack his mental state. He could hold the raw grief, feeling love for Willow and Gus, yet still maintaining the desire to go after Belos which is a mix of fear and anger. His emotions weren't so rigidly all-or-nothing as a result.

I'd like to also note that he likely felt safe enough to express his tears after Willow revealed how she felt about herself. It strongly aligned with his values to minister to her pain: and while he did that, some of his own anguish could be healthily expressed instead of stuffed down in the dark where it would be feared.

Interestingly I find that scene similar to one case I handled whereby my client took a long time to dare to speak about her own pain, which could only happen after we spent a few sessions discussing fictional characters that she resonated with. Other clients do this by preferring metaphors rather than directly referencing themselves, what happened to them, and their pain.

References outside of the client themselves, that have similar enough struggles to the client's own struggles, can provide the safety of detachment and distance for the client to explore their own issues. This detachment is a gap that a therapist should work on closing over time, at a pace that the client is comfy with, until the client feels safe to reference themselves and experience their own darkness without getting overwhelmed.

Basically, Hunter connecting with Willow's pain could've been what allowed him to feel the scary emotions that he'd been avoiding in all the scenes prior to Willow showing him the photo of him and Flapjack. Feeling any form of love would also mean feeling grief he was carrying.

Sometimes in trauma, our emotions and cognitions flip like a switch quickly in a black-and-white sort of fashion, which may be useful if things are life-or-death, but may cause issues once any real dangers have passed (though if S3 hadn't been shortened, I wonder how differently this part of his arc would've played out).

What's interesting is we never quite see any contending or an active struggle between 1. the part of him that wants (and rightfully needs) to receive love/care, and 2. the angry part of him that wants justice, that wants to track down Belos so badly after the loss of Flapjack. It's more like one eased into the other, and I believe both parts can coexist, and it's a balance that he should be able to strike while remaining stable in the next episode. Balance like that is an indication of improved mental health: being able to hold multiple emotions in your mind at once and remaining relatively calm, instead of one or maybe two difficult and unpleasant emotions hijacking everything.

It makes sense that the group gave him his space throughout most of the ep, instinctively sensing that they should be nearby in case he asked for support, but not being too close because he would be in more undesired and unnecessary pain. E.g. if Camila had asked him what he asked Willow ("Willow, hold on. How are you feeling?"), early on in the ep, he probably would've brushed it off by minimizing his pain with a "I'm fine", to politely decline anything she'd do to extend support and care. Maybe he wouldn't have been ready. Only once he saw Willow in a lot of her own anguish did he feel ready to truly connect.

It's a big contrast..how afraid he was back then about the others finding out he's a grimwalker:

versus his response when Gus brings it up at last.

Hunter is so tired by this point, too preoccupied with the major life change he's experiencing, that he doesn't even look fazed. It helped that Willow had just told him "you're one of us now".

Plus I strongly believe there was already underlying healing that made him capable to handling the grimwalker reveal and any ambush by Belos. One indication is this body language comparison here:

where the 2nd one shows that he still leans forward, instead of pulling back like in the first one.

By the end of For the Future, more emotional balance has been restored in him, and it began when Willow took the risk to show him the old flyer derby photo and use it as a conversation starter.

That's a wrap for today's episode of Holy Titan I Love This Kid So Much That I Might Die.

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Flowers on the Grave

Sebastian Sallow x MC Word count: 1,508 Rating: G Themes: loss, sorrow, love, friendship

Summary: After Anne's death, MC reflects on how far they and Sebastian have come since their fifth year. Notes: This is just a short songfic inspired by "Flowers on the Grave" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized. (Is it annoying when people insert lyrics into fics? I can't decide. Tell me.) Definitely recommend listening to the song to feel the vibe. Not sure if I'll post this to my AO3; just kind of wrote it from boredom.

Despite the heaviness of the moment, the breeze comforted Sebastian Sallow. It reminded him of the person he was mourning because it was just like her – gentle yet assertive. It was a quiet, peaceful morning on the outskirts of Feldcroft. Though Sebastian preferred to stay away from his former hamlet, only one thing could bring him back.

“She loved daisies.”

Sebastian’s gaze remained on the newly erected gravestone but his eyes didn’t register any information to his brain. His mind felt incapable of any thinking, a stark contrast from his usual state of mind.

“She loved daisies,” he repeated. He didn’t know why the sentence was worth repeating, but it comforted him. Probably because it was a fond memory of her.

You lifted your head to offer Sebastian a small, encouraging smile. That was the first time he’d spoken that morning.

Feel the moment all around you. And the quiet that surrounds you. The time you have is sacred. Don't wait around and waste it. They can't take that away from you.

The pain that had seized Sebastian’s body and mind for the previous two days had subsided, leaving him with a new kind of numbness. This was goodbye and he wasn’t prepared for the finality of it all, but somewhere, deep inside the both of you, was a selfish sense of relief.

Anne Sallow was no longer in pain. She passed peacefully in her sleep two nights ago, leaving Sebastian as the sole member of the Sallow family and leaving you and Ominis Gaunt to be his support system just before the start of your seventh year at Hogwarts.

The three of you stood solemnly after Anne’s burial. Her grave site smelled of freshly dug Earth as you laid a bundle of daisies on top of the mound of dirt. The hush that settled over the three of you wasn’t new – you often sat in comfortable silence together – but it felt different. Sebastian felt different. 

Over the past two nights, Sebastian’s grief took many forms. At first he cried in anguish over his dead sister. Then his sorrow shifted to anger, something you were all too familiar with. Finally, he went quiet, which actually scared you more than his previous expressions of grief.

So you handled him the best way you knew how – with gentle kindness, but tough resistance when his words became too cruel or his actions too selfish. You held him as he slept and made it clear you had no intention of ever leaving him.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Sebastian finally whispered, his eyes still on Anne’s gravestone that the two of you transfigured together.

“You don’t need to know right now,” you said. “You just need to know that it’ll all be OK.”

Everything is temporary, even the sorrow that you carry. So tell me, are you OK? You say you are OK. I'm OK now I'm with you.

You reached for Sebastian’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, unsure if the gesture even registered with him. It didn’t appear to, but you knew better than to be offended. This was bigger than you.

This was a teenage boy who was forced to grow up far too quickly. He’d been pushed to make tough decisions, some of them impossible and some of them terrible. He’d seen things that many seasoned wizards will never witness. He’d committed the ultimate crime, a sin so terrible, he’d nearly lost everyone and everything for it. Now, he’d lost his twin sister and the only part of his past worth keeping.

You also had suffered loss in the past two years, but none as great as this. Though you had grown to love Anne like a sister, you could never understand a loss like this.

But Sebastian’s hand twitched in yours, a sign of life and a rush of relief. It was his way of saying he was still present with you. He didn’t want you to worry.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I’m glad she’s no longer hurting,” Sebastian said quietly. You and Ominis nodded, both encouraged by his willingness to speak. “And I’m glad she forgave me. I can’t change what happened and I can’t bring her back, but I can spend the rest of my life trying to make her proud.”

“She loved you,” you pointed out. “Even if her forgiveness took time, she never stopped loving you.”

“It was unconditional,” Ominis added.

And finally, Sebastian’s gaze met yours as you shared a knowing glance.

“I understand,” he said. 

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

Sebastian’s feelings for you didn’t come to fruition until your sixth year. Of course, he knew they were there. He’d anguished and fought himself over them since the day the two of you took down that troll. But you two spent your fifth year fighting something even bigger, so any feelings beyond your adventures to help Anne and to save wizardkind from Ranrok went undisturbed.

But once the dust of Solomon’s death settled and Ominis and Anne forgave Sebastian, you became focused on returning to a normal teenage life free of death, ravenous acromantulas and goblin rebellions. The only excitement you wanted was solving an occasional Merlin trial or dueling a worthy opponent in Crossed Wands.

Anne’s love for her brother may have been unconditional, but her forgiveness wasn’t. She made Sebastian vow to drop his pursuit in finding a cure for her. You watched him agonize over the agreement but his need to be on speaking terms with his twin prevailed and soon, Sebastian also returned to life as an everyday student.

That’s when Sebastian found life was becoming increasingly difficult around you. Not that he didn’t want you around – he wanted you around all the time, constantly, and that was the problem. His former thoughts of curing his sister were replaced with the constant thought of you.

Soon, he began fighting with the other boys who were vying for your attention until it all came to a head during Potions class when Garreth Weasley asked you to Hogsmeade. Sebastian sent him to the hospital wing covered in boils and when you scolded him, he declared that no one deserved you. You mistook the meaning of his words and during his panicked attempts to clarify his intent, Sebastian kissed you. That was the end of your reign as partners in crime and the start of your journey as two people who needed to be together.

It was summer when you told me that you loved me by the old creek. My ears had never heard that, tongue forgot the words and feet forgot the earth, it's true.

If Sebastian ever needed to conjure a patronus, his happiest memory was the day by the babbling brook. It was early summer before seventh year and he lay with the back of his head in your lap, reading a book as you gazed peacefully at the water.

You glanced downward at the boy in your lap, and though he couldn’t see it with his sight shielded by the book, you smiled. 

“I love you,” you blurted out.

The book snapped shut immediately and went forgotten at Sebastian’s side as his eyes darted upward toward yours.

“What?” he managed.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. How very typical. Ever since Sebastian had made amends with Anne and stopped obsessing over a cure for her, the boyish sides of his personality surfaced. Sure, you’d loved him through his dark intensities when all he could think of was his twin, and when revenge against those goblins had driven him toward dark magic. But his silly, often sarcastic and bemused side had become so endearing to you, you vowed to yourself that you’d do everything in your power to keep him away from that darkness.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I said I love you, you daft troll,” you repeated.

He grinned stupidly up at you, shifting upward to support his weight back on his elbows. 

“I heard you,” he said. “I just wanted to hear it twice.”

And then he scurried away as you tried to smack him with his own book.

“By the way,” he later told you, after you’d managed to catch up to him and shove him in the water. “I love you, too.”

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

That moment felt like ages ago, though it’d only been months. Now, that happy memory was temporarily replaced with grief for Anne, but as you stood over her grave to say your final goodbyes, Sebastian’s eyes told you he was no longer driven by darkness.

I was on the verge of breaking down, then you came around.

[tiredqueermushroom]

all of exu trio please?

Dorian

First Impression:

You're gonna be my favourite. There's more hidden underneath that classic bardic charm.

Impression Now:

Omg, he's just like me fr fr. An anxiety ridden master compartmentaliser, who is desperate for parental approval and desperate to strike out on his own. God I love him.

Favourite moment:

The entirety of episode 105 from summoning coriolis to his conversation with his father 10/10 no notes.

Honourable mention: His speech to dariax about real evil also "Kill your mother."

Idea for a story:

Just pure silken squall exploration. I want to know how dorian mastered his compartmentalision skill, more dorian childhood/lore please mister daymond!

Unpopular opinion:

A lot of people only like dorian because they ship him with orym and it's very obvious. So of the most egregious dorian takes come from these people, because they don't view him as an independent character but rather an extension of orym (disclaimer, I like do/my don't come at me.) Some of yall are weirdly racist about Dorian, especially when trying to 'defend' orym from rightful critism, it's kinda crazy.

Favourite relationship/s:

The exu trio! They keep each other grounded and sane. They also can see through each other's masks better than anyone else. Also, they shared a bed together what's not to love.

Favourite headcannon:

He's autistic! Also that hair is super important to squall culture, so dorian having his hair up and therefore shorter is his way of mourning cyrus.

Fearne

First impression:

I love this ditsy girl!

Impression Now:

Omg you are so much deeper than I gave you credit for. You hide your complex and real feelings behind a mask of smiles and giggles. Bet you related hard to when dorian said he finds strength in a smile, huh?

Favourite Moments:

It's a tie between the coin flip resurrection and the aftermath of watching ashton die. In both these moments, we get to see behind the mask fearne wears and get a peek at how much she is both terrified and angered by the idea of losing her friends, her family.

Idea for a story:

An in-depth exploration of her feelings of guilt about reviving orym instead of Laudna and how this interacts with her feelings of discomfort about being pressured about the shard. Specifically, her feelings around laudna and Imogen, saying they were disappointed in her during the truth trial.

Unpopular opinion:

Same issue I have with Dorian. A lot people don't care about how deep of a character can be with most of her bigger moments being overshadowed by other characters or not given the attention it needs. Some people only like her as the big-breasted ditsy thief.

Favourite relationship/s

Fearne & Orym! They both care about each other so much that they don't want to worry they other, so they lie/ tell half truths to each other. Orym would follow Fearne to the ends of the Exandria, and Fearne would carry him on her shoulders the whole way.

Favourite headcannon:

The coin actually landed on Laudna, but fearne could not and would not be able to stand the loss of her bestie, especially so soon after losing dorian. No matter what the coin said, she would have chosen orym, and the Fey are inherently selfish after all.

Orym

First impression:

Woah, slow down lil man you can only fit some much grief in your tiny body.

Impressions now:

My god I don't know how you can keep fitting all that grief and guilt in there!

Favourite moments:

Definitely, him crying at dorian, telling him he doesn't have to protect everyone. Orym had been carrying the weight of protecting everyone for so long, that he forgot that he's a person, not just a sword and shield to be thrown in front of people. Also, any time he's said he misses dorian because it sounds like an I love you. So much of how orym loves has been defined by longing and missing will, so naturally missing dorian is as easy as loving will. Bonus, him dancing in the rain with otohans sword and carrying that heavy weight with him was so cinematic.

Idea for a story:

Orym apologising to Dorian for his comment about cyrus during the post downfall talk. To recognise that he didn't trust that dorian would ultimately choose to save people despite his opinions on the gods. Especially after dorian revealed how heavily cyrus' death weighs on him as well as how important trust is to him.

Unpopular opinion:

While I acknowledge that orym has gotten some bad faith criticism in the past that doesn't mean all criticism he receives is unfair. Case in point, in some people's attempts at 'defending' orym after people were rightfully put off by his comment about cyrus. Some started using racist language towards Dorian and robbie, e.g robbie needing to watch his tone or that dorian needs to be 're-educated'. Which is especially crazy considering robbie is a native man. All that to say, orym is not above criticism and some of yall need to stop acting like it.

Favourite relationship/s:

Exu trio! Orym's need to protect fearne superseding his own safety is so juicy, he would die for his bestie. That man is so painfully in love with dorian that it makes him look stupid lol. The need to depend on someone vs the fear that the minute he let's his guard down everything will come crashing down. Both of them keep orym grounded, fearne reminding him how to let loose and dorian reminds him that he doesn't have to shoulder every responsibility by himself and that he can share his burdens.

Favourite Headcannon:

He has a tail and obviously he has PTSD. But the first night dorian was back was the first time he's slept well in a long time. The bed was perfect.

[edgarapoecolouredglasses]

Little mastermind part six

You know the drill

THE GIF IS NOT MINE

Pairing: Troy Otto/Reader

Summary: The clock is ticking and Troy is desperate to protect his people.The only out he can think of is to make an appeal to the mercy of an old friend.

Part: 6/at least 10

Masterlist

——————————————————

Troy sat for hours, wracking his brain, staring at the maps scattered across the desk, trying to think of a way to keep his community safe. It wasn’t just a group anymore—it had grown into something bigger, something more meaningful. A real community.

He glanced out of the study’s window to the scene below: people doing laundry, others cooking outside, always making something out of nothing, every single day, despite how low the supplies were running.

The children ran around, laughing as they played, while some of the teenagers sat in a corner, passing around old comics.

Guards stood on the perimeter, men and women who had willingly taken up the responsibility of protecting everyone inside.

His gaze drifted over to the makeshift hospital room they’d set up in one of the rooms. He hadn’t seen Tracy with the other kids, which meant she was probably in there, talking Y/N’s ear off like usual. Trying to help

He smiled to himself, the brief thought easing some of the weight on his shoulders. His girls.

But then his eyes caught movement in the woods beyond the fence. A guard quickly took care of a small group of walkers, and Troy’s smile faded.

They couldn’t stay here forever. The supplies around the compound were thinning out, the walkers kept coming, and even though everyone was holding on, he needed to find somewhere they wouldn’t have to constantly look over their shoulders, wondering if the next day would be the one they lost it all.

As he stared down at the map again, his head lifted when the static of the radio filled the room.

Another broadcast from PADRE rang out through the crackling noise.

“If you lost your child or think that they might have been taken, come to the following coordinates…”

Troy reached over and turned down the volume, sighing heavily as the message played on.

It was the same voice, Madison’s voice, that he had heard when he first arrived at this compound. When he heard it for the first time, something had ignited in him. Years of rage, of anger, of grief that he thought he’d buried, all came roaring back at the sound of her voice.

He had wanted revenge. Needed it, even. After everything that had happened, after what she had taken from him, the idea of her being out there, still breathing, still talking, made his blood boil.

But now, weeks later, with the community growing and his responsibilities piling up, that desire for vengeance had dulled. Not because he didn’t want it anymore—he did—but because there were other things pulling at him. Things more important than settling old scores. Tracy. The people here. Y/n.

He rubbed his temples, the weight of it all pressing down on him again. His focus needed to be here. On them. Not on the past.

The radio message faded into static, and Troy switched it off completely. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment, wondering how long they could really keep going like this. How long until something gave?

He stood up, pacing the room, the tension building inside him again. There were decisions to make—ones that would affect everyone here. Ones that could either save them or destroy everything they’d built. He couldn’t afford to make the wrong choice, not now.

Troy glanced back out the window at the people below, the kids laughing, the adults working together. They were counting on him.

————————————————

A week passed, and everything seemed to be moving at a whirlwind pace. More survivors had come to us, and among them, there was a couple—doctors. Actual doctors! When I first heard about it, I nearly burst into tears from relief. It felt like a miracle, like we had finally caught a break.

Up until then, I had been living on a prayer, doing everything I could with whatever knowledge I had. Guesswork. That’s what it had been. If someone got an infection, I hoped I had enough antibiotics or herbal remedies to treat it. Heart problems? That was another beast entirely. I did what I could with the knowledge I had gathered over the years, but I knew it wasn’t enough. And every time someone came into the med bay, a part of me feared that it would be something I couldn’t fix.

But now, with real doctors, it was different. I worked closely with them. They were patient, showing me things I hadn’t known—how amputate a gangrenous limb, how to handle certain illnesses I’d only ever read about. It was like a weight was slowly being lifted off my shoulders. We finally had real medical expertise on our side, and it was one less thing to worry about.

We had also moved to a new building—a place that, for now, felt safer than where we were. An old library, dusty and worn, but with sturdy walls and enough room for everyone to have a bit more space. It felt strange, though, living among all the abandoned books, as if we had found refuge in the remnants of a world that no longer existed. It was depressing and made me hopeful at the same time.

But even here, I knew it wouldn’t last long. It couldn’t. The building was secure, but our food supply wasn’t. There wasn’t enough land nearby to grow our own, and the scavenging teams were coming back with less and less every day. It was only a matter of time before we’d have to move again.

I was deep into a book on radiation treatment, trying to soak in every detail, when I heard footsteps approach. Looking up, I saw Troy standing there, an unusual expression on his face—almost as if he was hesitant.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Are you up for an errand?”

I raised an eyebrow, immediately cautious. “What kind of errand?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes held mine, and for the first time in a long while, I saw something almost…pleading in his gaze. Something was off.

But instead of pushing for more details, I closed the book and stood up. “Okay,” I said, my voice soft but certain. I would be wherever he needed me to be. I always had been.

Without another word, Troy nodded and hurried off to grab Tracy. I gathered my gear quickly, slipping on my jacket and checking my weapons. Whatever this was, it didn’t feel like a simple supply run.

We left the library in the biggest, sturdiest vehicle we had—an absolute tank of a car that had been patched up more times than I could count, but it still ran.

Tracy sat between us in the front seat, unusually quiet, her small fingers tracing the outline of the map spread across her lap.

The silence in the car was thick. I kept glancing over at Troy, trying to read him. There was something he wasn’t saying, and it gnawed at me. I opened my mouth to ask again, but then caught his gaze, and the words died in my throat.

Whatever we were headed for, it was important. And he needed me to trust him.

Troy spoke suddenly, breaking the tense silence without looking away from the road. “I’ve been hearing Madison on the radio.”

I blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. My first instinct was disbelief, and I didn’t bother hiding it. “Madison? As in the Madison.. Madison Clark?” I stared at him for a few seconds, then, half-joking and half-serious, I reached over and placed my hand on his forehead, checking for a fever. “You feeling alright? You sure it’s not a hallucination?”

Troy tensed, clearly not in the mood for jokes, and shooed my hand away with an irritated sigh. “Stop.”

When we had a very random and brief encounter with Alicia, which ultimately caused Serena’s death, she seemed pretty sure that her mom was dead. And that was years ago, so pardon me if I felt like Troy bust have been seeing things.

Tracy, giggling beside me, mimicked my movement, reaching up to put her tiny hand on his forehead too. Troy quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, his tone sharp. “Tracy, please,” he said in that serious, annoyed voice I’d rarely ever heard him use with her.

Tracy was treated like an absolute princess by him. Tracy asked Tracy got, as far as it was possible in this new world. When she was told no, it was always gentle, with a lengthy explanation of why she couldn’t get what she wanted.

The only times I’d ever seen Troy use his strict dad voice like this, it was either because he was very stressed or on edge, or when she had put herself in danger and he was so worried that it turned into anger. It caught me off guard, and I immediately stopped playing around.

Troy glanced down at Tracy with a brief, guilty smile, as if to apologize for his tone.

He was more tense than I had realized. This wasn’t just some passing comment about a radio broadcast; this was something weighing heavily on him. He finally exhaled and continued, “I’ve been hearing Madison… took over PADRE. It’s this organization… you’ve heard of it from those new people, right?”

PADRE—the stories we’d heard about them were grim, nothing good. I didn’t know much, but what I did know made my skin crawl. Children, ripped from their families and molded into soldiers? My thoughts raced, but Troy’s voice brought me back.

“She gave coordinates in the broadcast,” he continued, his voice quieter, more reflective. “For parents to come find PADRE. Look for their kids.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in the car like a lead blanket. What was he thinking? What was this errand really about?

Troy paused for a moment before adding, almost too quietly, “The place seems… safe.”

Safe.

I glanced over at him, searching for more than what he was saying, but his face was unreadable, eyes fixed on the road. The wheels in my mind started spinning faster. Safe. In a world like this, what did safe even mean anymore? And why was Troy—who never trusted anything easily—considering it?

“What are you thinking, Troy?” I asked, my voice soft but filled with concern. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I needed to hear it anyway.

Troy’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the worn leather. He exhaled deeply before speaking, as though admitting his plan out loud made it more real. “I’ve been thinking of going there.”

“To PADRE?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat. “Troy, what—”

“I’d have to swallow my pride,” he interrupted, his voice flat, but I could sense the weight of those words. “What she did to me was… unforgivable. You know that. I hated her for it. Still do.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “But I’ve got more people to think about than just myself now.”

I blinked, my heart pounding. This was a side of Troy I rarely saw—the one that wrestled with something more than survival. His eyes remained focused on the road, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him to admit.

“If swallowing my pride gives us any chance of a safe place for this community… for you, for Tracy,” he continued, his voice lowering, “then I’ll gladly do it.”

I stared at him, trying to piece together the full picture. “Why do you need us to come?” I asked, my heart sinking as it confirmed this wasn’t just some regular errand.

Troy sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before speaking. “I’m hoping she won’t kill me on the spot.”

“What?” The word tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Troy—”

“She has no reason to let me live after everything that happened at the dam,” he said, cutting me off again. “I need her, not the other way around. There’s nothing in it for her to keep me alive, except maybe the goodness of her heart—and I’m not sure how much of that she’s got left.”

The weight of his words pressed down on me. I knew about the dam. I knew what had happened between them, even if Troy hadn’t shared every detail. Madison had done something unforgivable, and Troy wasn’t one to forget easily.

“Then why… why bring us?” I asked, my voice trembling with worry.

“She knows you,” Troy said quietly. “You two parted ways on good terms—before you knew what she’d done to me. She definitely won’t hurt you. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

I shook my head slightly, trying to wrap my mind around it all. “And Tracy?”

Troy’s eyes flickered toward the backseat, where Tracy sat quietly, unaware of the gravity of the conversation. “I brought her to show that I’m not a threat. That I won’t try anything. I need her to see that I’m trying to protect my daughter now. Maybe if Madison sees my family... I was reckless at the ranch, I know that I was a danger. I had nothing to lose, my father was dead, my brother had chosen Alicia over me. I was alone, and that revenge felt justified.”

The car felt smaller with the weight of his words. His eyes found mine again, softer now, but filled with an apology that neither of us had ever fully addressed. But, maybe we should have talked it over one of these days.

He remembered, just like I did, that I had been at the ranch too when he unleashed his reckless fury. Back then, I was just another casualty of that herd made of his grief and rage.

“I didn’t care what happened to anyone,” His voice cracked slightly. “But now… it’s different. There’s Tracy and if we want any chance of Madison letting us in, she needs to see Tracy.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with uncertainty. I looked at Troy, my chest tightening with a mixture of fear and understanding.

He was risking everything—not just his pride, but his life—for the chance to secure a future for all of us. And even though I hated the idea of facing Madison, I couldn’t help but feel the same sense of hope Troy was clinging to.

“Troy…” I started, my voice soft, unsure of what to say.

But he just shook his head, his eyes hard as he looked back to the road. “We have to try.”

As they drove, the coordinates on the map became more and more confusing. The further we ventured, the more the land seemed to narrow, and soon we were staring at a stretch of water that separated us from their destination.

Troy slammed the car door, stepping out to look at the map again, disbelief etched across his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

I followed him out, glancing over his shoulder. The coordinates pointed to a small dot on the other side of the water. “Is that… an island?”

“Looks like it.” Troy ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “No wonder we couldn’t get there by road. They’re on an island.”

I squinted across the water, the outline of the distant land barely visible. “How are we supposed to get over there?”

Troy didn’t answer at first, his gaze scanning the shoreline. After a moment, he turned, his eyes landing on something half-buried in the sand at the water’s edge. “Hold on,” he said, already moving towards it.

I followed him, watching as he knelt down beside what looked like the wreckage of an old speedboat. The metal was rusted, the frame battered by weeks, maybe months of neglect, but Troy’s eyes lit up with a spark of determination.

“Think this can still work?” I asked, doubting it could float, much less get them across.

Troy didn’t respond immediately, his hands already inspecting the boat, checking the engine. There was still fuel in there that didn’t seem to be more than a few months old “It’s going to need some work… but yeah, I can fix it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? This thing looks like it’s been sitting here for years.”

Troy gave a dry laugh, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Months, it’s worse off because of the humidity. And you’d be surprised what I can get to work when I don’t have a choice.” He pulled out a toolbox from the boat car, setting it down beside him. “Besides, I’ve fixed worse.”

I watched him as he started tinkering with the engine, loosening bolts and replacing parts with scraps he’d salvaged. It was strange seeing him like this — calm, focused, in his element.

After a while, he glanced up at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, when I was in my teens, before the militia, my father used to make me work on tractors and cars after I got kicked out of school.”

I blinked in surprise. Troy never talked about his past anymore, let alone his father. The image of Jeremiah’s face, drained of blood and hollow after he shot himself still sent shivers down my spine.

“Yeah?” I prompted, leaning against the side of the boat.

“Yeah.” He kept working as he spoke, his tone casual but with a hint of bitterness. “He told me that if I couldn’t get my brain to work, ‘I better get those damn engines to work’” he said, mimicking his fathers voice, as far as he could still remember it. “I could at least be useful around the ranch. So, while my brother was off at college getting praised for being the ‘smart’ one, I was out in the fields fixing everything that broke down.”

I felt a pang of sympathy for him but didn’t say anything, knowing he wouldn’t want pity. Instead, I just watched as he worked, slowly but surely bringing the engine back to life.

“I guess it paid off in the end, though,” Troy continued, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Because now, I can get this thing running and get us to where we need to go.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. I knew his father wasn’t really the best dad. He neglected him for years while he was being abused by his mom. Jeremiah told me that himself. But I knew how much Troy still loved his father, and how much he wanted to prove himself to that old bastard. “Your dad would be proud.” I say

Troy chuckled, shaking his head. “I doubt that. But maybe he’d be impressed. A little.”

After what felt like hours, the boat finally sputtered to life, the engine coughing before settling into a steady hum. Troy stood up, grinning like a kid who’d just pulled off a magic trick.

“There,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans again. “Told you I could do it.”

I stared at the boat, amazed that it actually worked. “You never cease to amaze me, Troy.”

He shot me a playful look. “I’m full of surprises. Come on, let’s get moving before the tide changes.”

When we arrived at the gates of a small island, a teenage girl with brown hair and a fighting stick stepped forward to open it. She looked us up and down, her eyes sharp and calculating. “What’s your business here?” she asked.

I forced a calm smile and lied smoothly because Madison had to be the first person to see us and hear us out, “We’re looking for my missing child.” Tracy squeezed my hand as the girl sized us up, then nodded and led us inside.

She sized up once more before sighing “follow me.”

She guided us to a small office, which looked more like an interrogation room. “Wait here,” she said before disappearing through another door.

The moment she left, I glanced down at Tracy. She tried to keep a brave face, but I could see the fear in her eyes, even if she’d never admit it. I squeezed her hand tighter, offering some comfort, though a shudder ran through my back as well.

Troy, always observant, noticed and pulled me into a hug. His embrace was strong and steady, but I could feel the tension radiating from him too. He knew as well as I did—this wasn’t the Madison we once knew. Eleven years had passed, and while Madison and I had parted on good terms, things had changed. Madison had changed. She had to have grown colder, harder. After all, who could stay the same after everything that’s happened? I was with troy, and I was sure she hated him.

I had faith that she wouldn’t hurt a child, at least not intentionally, but the thought still gnawed at me. Without a word, I bent down and lifted Tracy into my arms, even though she was getting too big for it. I just needed to hold her, to feel her close. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her head nestled into my shoulder.

Then, the door creaked open.

All three of us turned toward it, the tension thick in the air as we braced for what—or who—was about to step through.

Madison’s face twisted with shock the moment her eyes fell on Troy. She froze, her expression a mix of disbelief and something close to fear, as if she were staring at a ghost. In a way, she was.

Her voice came out in a stunned whisper, “But… I killed you.”

Troy didn’t respond immediately. His jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his neck tensing as he bit his tongue. I could see the battle going on behind his eyes—the anger, the pain, the memories of everything she’d done to him.

I reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, squeezing just enough to remind him that I was there. Supporting him. His eyes flicked to mine for a second, and I gave him a soft nod. We were in this together, no matter what came next.

Madison’s gaze darted between us, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. Tracy shifted slightly in my arms, sensing the heaviness in the air, but she stayed quiet, her small hand clutching at my sleeve.

Finally, Troy exhaled, his voice low but steady. “As you can see I’m alive and kicking,” His face did nothing to hide the glare coming from his eyes as he spoke ��You didn’t finish the job, Madison.”

———————————————————

As always let me know what you liked and what you didn’t like.

I’m always open for critique

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added)

@elleirbag50 @aldenenjoyer

[ilariyalavorowrites]

Good Enough (9-1-1) Part Nine

Imagine: Imagine leaving LA after feeling like an outsider in your relationship with Bobby and Athena as they seem to pull away and distance themselves from you. Only to find that it is almost impossible to actually walk away.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, AU, Bisexual Athena, BDSM

Pairings: Bobby Nash x Reader x Athena Grant

Word count: 2,434 words

Universe: 9-1-1

Reader gender: Female

Tagged: @graniairish @madhatter-crazyasahatter-blog @4everflowercore @blueskyredrosegrey @agathaharknessfan96 @ljej95 @yoshinorecommends @horsedragonllama @forever2ne1 @clayzayden @multifandomlesbianic @thepotatoislost @purpl3-menac3

Previous/ Next

Part: 9/10

DENIAL

REGRET

ANGER

DEPRESSION

ACCEPTANCE

The five stages of grief could be seen as a series of rooms that all would pass through one day. Yet here the three of you were, stuck in different rooms with the doors thrown open. Staring through the passage, trying to make sense of this new world that emerged and encompassed you in a blink of an eye. 

You stood in acceptance, a warm and homely space with its eggshell white walls decorated to the nines like a log cabin from your youth. With a crackling log fire in the furthest corner from the entrance. It was as if this room was a perpetual state of your favourite memory of Christmas morning. One that brimmed with joy and childish delight, where anything was possible. A point to step off from into a new beginning.

Athena stood firmly a few rooms back, in the dark red shades of burgundy, scarlet and sangria with veins of oranges and purples dancing through. Sharp edges filled the space, reflecting the pain that lay at the heart of it. The walls pulsated like a heart skipping a beat before cracking creating a unique jigsaw. This room was Athena, her anguish and fury. This was every argument at 3 am, every screaming match over the small detail. That sudden rush of betrayal that came when discovering that you had been wronged, that desire to have the answers to the questions regardless of the pain that would inevitably follow. 

Bobby, he was starting on the outside looking inwards. Trying to make sense of what was playing out between his two lovers. He held none of the cards, and had no real answers to thousand or more whirling and desperate questions piling up. More appeared with every new facial expression or slight change in non verbal cues that were missed by most. He himself would readily admit that they would slip right past his gaze if he wasn’t completely laser focused but here was, gaze fixed flicking from one to the other. He noticed, he saw but at the same time, Bobby knew that he was missing vital information. There was more to the situation than a simple hit and run. He had been left out of the bigger picture and that Athena had discovered.

As the penny began to drop, he edged closer into Denial. That bland void of a room where the dusky grey walls gleaned. The furnished by a small moth eaten patchwork chair. The once thick foam had seen better days and the worn down barely brown carpet badly needing replacing. It felt foreign, disconcerting almost as if you had entered the wrong room but yet this was where you were meant to be? A room that easily generates follow on questions and what if statement at the drop of hat. That can of worms had been opened, stomped on to the point of obliteration. Nothing remained. For now there was no way for Pandora to now close that box and stuff back in all the horrors that had been unleashed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a moment that he had never fully considered. Medical emergencies were given in his and Athena’s line of work but not hers. No, this had barely crossed his mind. He worried for sure, that was a daily occurrence. In those times when he was home alone, the darkness would encroach into his apartment. A heaviness would settle in like a fine mist blowing in from the sea and that inner doubtful voice would return.

Bobby could not deny that such abhorrent negative thoughts had passed through his mind at his lowest. Hitting rock bottom staring down at that bottle of liquor tempting him to drink away all his woes and simply forget. Forget that they were going to leave him, it was inevitable. Just over the horizon, there was someone better, someone young and not so broken as he. Yet here he was facing it down. His face paled, all whilst hiding by his mask but god was he scared for what came next.

Athena’s rage burnt hot, fast and was all-consuming. It was comparable to flash fire, that sudden chemical reaction that created an intense flame. It was there one moment then gone once it had rushed through the source of combustion. Right now, you were that primary source at the heart of the chemical mixture. 

The spark that had ignited her ire, whipping it until it had exploded. Once it  had drawn you in, like a moth to a flame but now you had to stand strong as you walked into the bowels of hell. The intense heat biting at your flesh, daring you to keep your distance. This was not the time to keep yourself at arms lengths, for that time had long since passed. This was a moment to remain as cool as ice, you were riddled with a multiple of negative emotions, each fighting to burst through. Guilt by far, was one of the strongest, second to acceptance which led the charge.

This was your internal struggle, one that could wait until you were by your lonesome self, grieving this loss in a darkened room miles away from this place. Full well knowing that you had haphazardly chosen the cowardly way, thinking it was the best option at the time. In the back of your mind you had never considered that all your running would lead you straight here directly into the heart of the furnace, into the very depths of your own personal hell. 

As you stood there, growing ever more anxious as each passing second ticked by. It echoed loudly in your ears, a constant reminder of the passage of time grinding to any of an almost standstill. Each second felt like an hour, an hour felt as if a lifetime had passed you by. Yet here you were standing still almost as if you were made of marble, frozen in time.

Even though this was the true heart of the storm, as the fast, razor sharp winds whirled around you cutting off any thoughts of escape. There was no way back, only forward. This would be far from an easy conversation. One that most feared as relationships formed, flourishing before obstacles presented themselves.

There were many moments that peppered each lifetime that were difficult to face. They had to be faced one way or another. You had chosen to take the easy path as you stood at the fork in the road but ultimately it had looped around, rejoining the harder path. A road unwalked, unpaved and full of tough choices. Ones that you wished and pleaded like a desperate coward stood in front of their executor crying out for mercy, but falling upon deaf ears.

Oh where to begin? As an impossible stream of starts to an inconceivable number of sentences and statements whizzed through your mind. It was a dizzying reality to beyond but this was yours and yours alone. Your anxiety creeps higher and higher with each silent moment. Soon one of you would have to break through, for it was palpable enough that it might be cut with a knife. 

“Ideally, this isn’t the best place for the three of us to talk but this can’t wait” Bobby steely and more serious than you had ever seen him before. The point of no return had truly been crossed. For now, you were standing face to face with Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant not your lovers. The mere experience was both terrifying but yet pleasing. As a redness began to blossom upon your cheeks, equal parts embarrassment to lust. God, you should not be turned on by but it was so damn difficult not to be.

With your lower lip rotating in your mouth, tentatively biting down each time that the soft flesh made contact with your teeth. You needed to remain calm, level and completely neutral if you were going to smoothly navigate through the murky waters that you were sinking deeper into.

You need to think before speaking, treat this like an interrogation. The world melted away as you imagined yourself seated on a cold steel chair, with arms resting upon the smooth metal top of a table bolted down to the floor. You were in her wheelhouse now. As the stern and unwavering eyes of Sergeant Grant met your own, nervously flitting from one spot to another. You catch sight of Fire Captain Nash just beyond, with his back firmly pressed against the wall silently observing the room. 

“You hold all the cards, it’s time to show your hand” The Sergeant firmly spoke, edging closer as she leant forward no more than an inch. It was hardly enough to be noticeable but yet your mind briefly wandered, removing you from your own perfectly constructed fantasy for a fraction of second longer than you desired. 

“Then ask your burning questions Sergeant Grant'' You shot back as you fell right back in, unpausing the overly dramatic scene as you leant back into the chair, feeling its sharp edges start to dig in. It was truly the most uncomfortable seat that you had the displeasure of being forced to use. Silence followed, with only the steady beat of your own heart to keep you company as you waited for the next question to arrive. 

“I’m waiting” You teased, prodded the quietly fuming Officer to see if she would take the bait and bite back. She remained silent, as the cogs within her mind churned, creating and then breaking now the questions that formed. As she worked through until she found the perfect opening line of enquiry. You would wait but he wouldn’t be the silent partner for a second more than necessary. It was hard to miss the rage circling within, fighting to break free and scorch the ground beneath his feet. 

In the way, he clenched his fists so tightly that the tips of his fingers blanched or how the facial muscles tightened as he barely held back his tongue lashing out with the strength of his conviction fought back, lashing out with the intensity of the tempest that lay within. God, he was ready to break. Captain Nash was dancing on the edge of a blade. One wrong move in either direction then all hell would break loose. 

The very thoughts of being on the receiving end of that explosion shook your world three inches to the left. It wasn’t something you had considered until this very moment. You were reaping what you had sown. With your focus fixed upon him, you had failed to notice her watching you watching him. 

It was only for a fraction of a second, the briefest of moments before you pulled your gaze away from his. Just add another string to your bow, staring at one of your interrogators. This was far more awkward that you would have considered it to be but then again, you never thought that a situation like this would occur. Yet here you were. 

“I didn’t wake up one particularly grim morning and say to myself let’s cut my losses and get out of this town as I lay there alone in my bed. You spoke with a waiving confidence that you feared would soon break but you needed this. To get what weighed heavily upon your heart off your chest. You continued on.

“Daring to hope that my phone would surge into life. For I knew what I was getting into when this all began but this went well beyond that” You paused to gather your thoughts before speaking once more. Athena however beat you to the punch, finding her voice. Her frustration is more prevalent than ever before. It was in the way she sat, back firmly pressed against the back of the chair. 

"Yet, there is no clear example of you reaching out, trying to raise the issue with either parties"  She said through gritted teeth, biting back. Her words awash with razor sharp accusations. For she had one firm goal in the forefront of her mind. That was to cut down to the core of it, get the accused to confess and admit the wrongdoings that lined with the story the evidence told. To see that bleeding heart and reach the truth that was desperately required for peace of mind, to move forward from here. Throughout, her face remained neutral, a blank slate that revealed nothing of storm brewing rapidly within.

The trap had been set, the bait firmly in place. All Sergeant Grant needed to do was to be patient and wait. The temptation to react, to bite back would be too much to completely resist. How long would it take? A few minutes or maybe as long as an hour? She simply could not say or predict when the cracks would start to form as your resolve chipped away. She was waiting with bated breath for your mask to finally drop then she would have what she was after but would it be truly worth it?

For that was the one question that she could not predict what. It twisted like a knife to the gut would as she lingered upon it longer than she necessarily needed to. She pushed aside but would not go away so easily, haunting her like a dark cloud on a sunny day. Ready to spoil the mood at a moment's notice. Was she really ready for the next words to fall from your lips? 

Athena held steadfast to the belief that she was but a sliver of doubt remained within, tainted this burst of certainty. Captain Nash noticed this momentary blip, this slight hesitation that fell over the surefast and confident Sergeant as her body language altered just enough to reveal her broken heart. It was only for a split second, there one moment but gone in the next but he noticed.

The Fire Captain abided by his promise, keeping silent in the background as Sergeant Grant conducted the integration. However there would come a time when he would enter the fray and say his piece. This was not the right moment, not quite yet but soon. His frustration weighed heavily upon his chest, his confusion at what he had missed. Professional pulled at core pushing back the overwhelming emotional centre of his being that bleed through the seams of stitches that held him together. Would this be the moment when his broken heart shattered upon the cement floor beneath his feet? He hoped that it wasn’t. Once had been more than enough.

[ra-archives]

Can't Go Back

- - - TMA x Mechanisms Crossover that is far longer than expected - - - 1/3 Chapters Published - - - TW: Blood/Gore, Character Death, Canon Typical Violence, Themes of Grief and Abandonment - - -

Jonny sends every curse he can think of towards the sky, pulling from every language he knows. There is no response from that inky black cosmos, which only serves to piss him off further.

They left him there. They fucking left him there! Knew what they were doing too because Nastya had flipped him off as Aurora's doors slid shut. What a lot of assholes, leaving him on some nowhere planet, with nothing but the clothes on his back to call his own. He's going on a rampage once he makes it back on the ship. They’ll all deserve it too!

People in the street stare at him as he yells his grievances to the sky. He doesn't care, growls at a stranger that gets too close, and everyone skirts around him after that. They probably think he’s losing it. While not an incorrect assessment, he isn’t at this moment. Not yet at least. He doesn’t mind the interpretation though, it certainly makes people eager to leave him alone. That's fine by him. 

Jonny stands there, staring at the sky as the sun beams down on him, and waits. People often assume immortality builds up patience. They would be wrong. Every moment still exists like it would to a mortal, and he feels each of them presently. He just has a bigger backlog, stuffed full of thousands of years. It also comes with a heap of lost memories and grief, but Jonny chooses not to think about that part. 

Immortality does build up stubbornness, at least in his own case. After a good hour of shouting at the sky, Jonny plants himself in the middle of the road, sitting and staring up at space above him. And he waits. He grows incredibly impatient incredibly quickly, but his stubborn need to be there when they get back outweighs that. They’ll come back any minute, and he’ll be right here, ready to yell at them for ditching him. 

The day fading into night doesn’t bother him. He runs hot as a furnace, so the chill has no real effect. Neither does the lack of light, it's almost better, making it easier to see the stars above him. It does bother him though, when the sun comes back up, bearing down where he keeps his vigil It brings a harsh light back, and brings people out as well. They stare and whisper, not that Jonny really cares.

A pair of rough men show up, standing a couple dozen feet away, but still eyeing him suspiciously. Jonny rolls his eyes at that. He hasn’t done anything to warrant suspicion. Yet. Jonny tunes the rest of the world out, spends his time staring at the sky instead. He writes out speeches in his head instead, choosing what words he’s going to use when he scolds his crew, revising and redrafting to make sure it stings.

Day fades into night again, and proper anger begins to simmer under Jonny’s skin. He had been annoyed, mildly irritated at the beginning, but now it's beginning to bubble over. They’ve left him here for long enough, made their point, he’ll say sorry for whatever he did, make it up, and then they can move on.

Yet, as he waits for them to give it up, he can feel another emotion pin pricking its way into his chest. The dread tastes bitter in his throat, so he stamps it down, pushing and pulling until it sits hot and angry like the rest of his feelings. 

The sun rises, and Jonny digs his claws into his knees until he can feel blood. It drips down his legs, and people start to glance towards him with concern. Someone tries to press water and food into his hands, but he growls at them until they run away. He’s not in the mood for any of this right now. 

It takes till midday for Jonny to get sick of waiting around. He climbs to his feet, bitching about his crew and their abandonment. He throws his hands up and stalks down the street. Might as well do something useful if his crew is going to make him wait.

- - - Read the rest Here! - - -

[jayflying]

And why is Martyn... Like That? (No Stranger Curses AU

[Part 1] [Part 2] (Part 3: "Timeless")

(cw: Martyn goes a bit homicidally insane)

He awakens somewhere he has only known in dreams and nightmares, a twilight infinite nothingness, devoid of any sensation except firm ground beneath his back. Martyn seriously wonders for a moment whether or not he is dead. Well, more dead than intended. Carried to wherever Death takes those with no more second chances.

He doesn't even manage to sit up fully before he finds he's not alone. Before he can understand it, he's dragged face-first into a hug. The hold is lopsided, crushing, desperate, and the physical contact is too much, too fast… but it feels familiar. Soft. Warm. It smells familiar, too. Like wood-smoke and pepper and fur. Like safety. Like Ren.

It's Ren.

Martyn forgets to breathe. His face burns, his lungs burn— and his thoughts are whirling, whirling, whirling.

This can't be real. This can't be anything but real. He doesn't know where he is. He is exactly where he needs to be. He loves this. He dreads this. He wants to run. He never wants to let go. He is so grateful. He wants to curse the universe for its sick sense of humor. He wants to cry tears of joy. He wants to break down entirely.

Then he remembers where he was thirty seconds ago, and the guilt stings like acid. (Cleo…) Logically, he knows it wasn't real, but… that doesn't make the tangled knot of feelings in his chest any less so. Grief and longing and bitterness and anger, and all for an illusion.

It's too much. He can't even begin to process it all. So instead he takes a breath, untangles his fingers from the fabric of Ren's shirt, and presses it all down deep into his soul, somewhere he can pretend to ignore. When they finally speak, he lets Ren ask all the questions. Really, he lets Ren answer all the questions. All he does is listen, as Ren explains Grian's reckless plan to escape the games for good.

When gods take to the battlefield, Martyn is made painfully aware of just how fragile mortals like himself can be. He cannot hope to persuade, he cannot hope to deceive, and he certainly cannot hope to fight on anything close to fair footing, not against something so much bigger than himself. But, as his once-lost memories remind him, he's a veteran of battles worse than this. He'll be damned if he doesn't try.

Somehow he makes it through. Not all of them do. And yet, here he is, standing victorious before the one who put them through all of this. Flanked by gods and legends alike, and barely comprehending any of it. And he's… not really sure what he's looking for. He just needs to look them in the eyes. He just needs to…

(What. To see? To know? Seek some kind of closure? What an idiot.)

The movement is almost too fast for him to follow. The fallen god – the monster – lunging at whoever it can seize, in a last-ditch display of wrath, of spite, of violence. Martyn can hear something in his wrist (or maybe Impulse's? It's too sudden to tell–) crack in its grip, and in a surge of static, his vision goes white. Reality fades.

24:00:00

…no. No. Not again. This can't be what he thinks this is.

23:59:56

No, no, no, they were supposed to be free. He was supposed to be free. He escaped! He can't do this again, not another one, not—!

23:59:45

NO. No, he's not going to do this again they can't MAKE him none of this is REAL and it's TOO MUCH and he's SICK OF IT LET HIM OUT—

23:51:36

let him out let him out let him out let him out he wants out he'd do anything please let him out what did he do wrong it hurts here he can't stand it is there something he did wrong if he apologized would that be enough if he begged would that be enough please please please let him out he wants out needs out needs quiet it's too loud here it hurts he hurts he's sorry for whatever he did please he just NEEDS OUT

23:34:19

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He's not sorry anymore. He's just angry.

The damn wristwatch thing wouldn't shut up so he smashed it with a rock. That didn't shut it up either. It didn't have a buckle or a latch or any way to take it off, so he just chewed through the wristband.

It's at the bottom of the ocean now.

He can still hear it.

He would try to smash it again but he can't. Impulse came and tried to talk to him earlier so he threw the rock at him. Nearly knocked him out. Now he won't give it back until they agree to sit down and talk.

Suppose he could always look for another rock.

21:58:34

The sound is making him want to kill something. And you know what? Maybe he will. What's even stopping him, anyway? None of this is real. None of this matters. Except for Impulse. Maybe. He doesn't really care. If he's real, Impulse should know to stay out of his way.

Maybe it doesn't matter if he breaks. Maybe it doesn't matter if he can't tell illusion from deception from delusion from lie. He can feel everything he's ever buried beneath a smile come crawling back with vengeance, all that grief and fear and doubt, reborn as blinding rage. There's blood on his hands, and he can't remember how it got there. He can't remember whose it is. He doesn't care. He just wants out. Maybe he'll just start breaking things until he breaks a way out of here.

(Please. He can't stand the noise. He hates it. Let him out.)

??:??:??

The world is his alone now. Only ghosts remain as his most fervent allies. They linger in ash and iron on the sea breeze. His hands are slick with gore, his hair and clothes are soaked with saltwater and blood. He feels trapped. He feels free. He feels like a feral animal, scratching at the border walls until his nails dig bloody streaks into the haze of magic. He feels good. He won.

He understands now. Nothing is real. Nothing was ever real. Except time. That incessant tick, tick, tick. Time is real. Time matters. He wants it. Will fight and tear and bite for it. He needs it. Needs to have it. Needs to taste it. He can feel it ticking down, draining away, now that there's no one left to take it from.

Tick, tick, tick, tick— stop.

No noise. No ticking. No heartbeat. No time.

He collapses into a place he has only known in dreams and nightmares, a twilight infinite nothingness.

[vampyrial]

A World For Her Alone | Things lost, things beloved

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

cw (chapter specific): murder, misogyny, infidelity, forced marriage, suicide

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: The aftermath of loss takes its toll and with the walls closing in, reader is left with one choice. Whether she knows it or not.

author's note: Felix is reader's knight! How fun! Boy, I sure hope nothing bad happens in this one!

The sunlight was blinding as soon as your eyes opened yet again and you were hit with a horrid feeling of loss. Seconds ago you were hearing your child’s cries, just moments ago. You had lost them. The realization of that sunk in slowly, as slow as the seconds had gone while you had given birth. You were stumbling before you knew it and the world turned on its side before you caught yourself on the table.

“What’s the matter?” Claude said, looking at you with those weary eyes and that wry smile you were all too familiar with.

“Where are they?” You muttered.

“Sister?” Diana looked at you with her wide eyes full of unease. 

“Where is my child?” You could have screamed if only you were strong enough.

Upon seeing your sweet sister’s guileless face, you were seized with a grief bigger than any you had ever known. You grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezing her and looking deeply into those eyes which did not rebuke you nor show guilt.

“You took them from me, didn’t you? It wasn’t enough for you to have him, you wanted the only thing…” You didn’t even finish your ranting before Claude had pulled you off, gripping your arm harshly enough to bruise.

“You don’t have a child yet. No one has taken anything from you,” He uselessly explained, in a disgruntled voice suppressing anger.

You wilted under his grip immediately, tears springing to your eyes as you pulled away. “Please, help me…I–” Your mouth could not find the words to accurately relay the pain you were in. No matter how wanted, no matter how loved, that child would be lost to you forever. And you did not even see their face, all you had to hold onto was the golden hair of a man who looked down at you now with contempt.

You teetered away from the table, nearly falling before Felix, your knight, caught you.

“I’m afraid my lady isn’t feeling well, I’ll see her to her room,” He said simply. His speech was lacking the proper consideration for Claude’s status but he didn’t seem to be concerned. Before Claude or Diana could respond, he was walking off with you.

“You left me, Felix. I was alone.”

“Never, my lady. It is my duty to be at your side” He refuted quietly.

“I never held them...Who did they give my child to? Claude wasn’t there. You weren’t there.”

“I will always be there to protect you, my lady. I have sworn it so.” You had no idea why he was even entertaining your delusions, but he patiently responded as if he didn’t consider you insane although you knew it was just to placate you. In consideration of your feelings.

“Why would you give me your hand in those moments if you knew you wouldn’t be there when I needed it the most?”

“My lady, I promise that I will be there whenever you need.” 

“But you cannot. You cannot save me.”

That quieted him. There was worry in his eyes, something rarely seen. Although you refuted his attempts to calm you, the kindness still brought tears to your eyes when you were alone. A bit of comfort could feel like heaven. A drop of clean water while you had waited in your cell could have tasted like the nectar of the gods then. You would have wept then, too, if only there had been such mercy as you were receiving now.

Your father barred your window. No matter your attempts to assure him that you hadn’t gone insane, he refused to believe them. You were not allowed to leave your room save for going to the library and even so, your knight was to stand inside at all times instead of at the door. All the while, Claude was still visiting the manor. Only this time, exclusively to see Diana.

“My lady, Lord Claude is with Lady Diana again.” Felix brought the information to you with a restless tone as if displeased.

“Ah yes, he’s keeping her company…” You murmured emotionlessly.

“He does so quite frequently without even seeing my lady, will you not say anything to Lady Diana?” He was almost pleading.

“It can’t be helped even if I say something. He is the one who goes to her, mother and father abide the visits as well,” You said, resigned. It couldn't be helped, you told yourself again and again. It seemed like the truth, no matter what feelings bloomed whether yours or Claude's, the path to marriage would remain imminent. What cause was there for your parents to care? Especially if it made Diana happy. “Do you know why it is that my father put bars on my bedroom windows and has you stand at my side constantly now?”

Felix did not answer. “It isn’t because he thinks I’ll hurt myself. It’s because he’s afraid that I will escape.”

“My lady…” He frowned, his brow furrowing.

That much was the truth. Your father wouldn’t be concerned for something as insignificant as your life. It was about making sure that you completed your duties. You wondered, in your past life, had he cared that you died? Most likely not, since you had already given Claude his precious heir and no honor or expense had been lost to the family.

In stillness and quiet, you could still hear your child’s cries. It was so miserable a sound you wanted to claw at the walls and the ground as if it would open up and let you see them again. But your eyes caught Felix’s and remembered the feeling of comfort yet again. You could have drowned in those eyes, you wanted to lose yourself to them and feel nothing. You did. For a time.

It was raining the night you ran away from home. You had asked Felix to take you away. Hand in hand you went into that miserable night and disappeared, relieved to finally be entirely unseen. There was no way the two of you could return to your lives, the two of you would bear each other as long as you were on the run. No longer noble, no longer a knight, the two of you still remain liege and vassal. Felix, until the end, protected you.

But the matter of a missing noble bride to be was a massive affair, it was the loss of many hardwon assets. One that prompted the use of knights scouting their whereabouts. And a house as influential as Claude’s had no shortage of help. Knights spread throughout the country and truly it was only a matter of time before you were found. In the end, it hadn’t been more than a few weeks.

Felix, a knight who dishonored himself with the crime of stealing away the bride of a noble house, was killed on sight. Without comrades, a single sword against many, he was done in quickly. Not without blood which splattered lightly on your dress and leaked onto the ground in a pool that ran from the downpour. Over without a flinch from the hand holding the sword.

You yourself were brought back, despite the enormous scandal. When the knights who apprehended you brought you to Claude’s manor, you sat before his mother.

“Everyone has unavoidable duties, every occupation has its purpose. That knight fulfilled his, I suppose, dying for his master.” She laughed lightly as if it were only a foolish thing he’d done.

“It’s true that you were the one learning the skills necessary for your station,” She continued. “But our house was always the one who bore the burden of your education. Did you think these things meant nothing? The tutors, the books, the tools, they were worth money — money that our house invested on the condition of your marriage.”

“Not only did we invest our wealth, but our time. What has it been, 13 years to make you a marchioness? You must understand, my daughter-in-law, you cannot be replaced.”

Her words echoed in your mind. She was right, it was the only reason to accept a woman who’d run off with another man back into her position. A bride was too valuable an asset to lose, let alone one who had been readily imbued with the knowledge necessary. No. Of course they wouldn’t have let her be. And of course they couldn’t let Felix live, in fear that you’d already eloped with him and your very important marriage would be made invalid. From that standpoint, you understood. But you couldn’t stop seeing Felix’s body, trampled on and mangled, disregarded in the aftermath. As if he were nothing at all.

Soon after that, you had been permitted a visit from a girl about as young as you. She looked to be the daughter of a merchant from her clothing, too intricate to be simply commoner clothing and too modest to be noble. She was lovely, with blue eyes and brown hair, wearing what was not quite mourning garb. It looked to be a normal style of dress made black, without a veil or gloves. 

“I was Felix’s fiance,” She began, looking at you through hateful eyes. “We were going to get married once things had settled down with you. I told him that I’d wait, no matter how long it was, I was prepared to be his wife in time. Did you ever think he had someone?” This woman could not even wear proper mourning attire because they were not yet wed when Felix was killed. Their relationship did not fall under those worth mourning, because according to etiquette, they did not yet have one. They were two young people waiting to become part of each other’s lives officially.

You couldn’t offer useless sorries, your mouth would not form words.

“What a tragedy Felix was dealt, having you as his lady,” She spat, paying no mind to the tears rolling down her face as she wrung her handkerchief in anger. Why had you not considered that Felix had obligations of his own? A marriage must have surely been struck between his family and hers as was not uncommon in wealthier common and lesser noble families. You had taken Felix’s pity for something more than the loyalty that it was. He took your hand and helped you to escape because you were the lady he chose to obey. You had made him flout his duties with no consideration. 

You had wept as you walked down the aisle, the wedding had been moved up in light of the scandal. They did not want to give you even half a chance to run away again. Silent tears fell as you gazed with eyes as lifeless as a doll’s, at the altar.

“Why are you the one crying when I’m the one who was betrayed?” Claude had remarked sharply at your tears, certainly disgusted though he did not show it. The onlookers and witnesses of your wedding were there to gawk at the mess of a girl who tried to run away and cheat her fiance on her promise.

After the wedding, you had been left alone finally by Claude who reviled you and your in-laws who had been satisfied to see the wedding had gone through. You could not function as the marchioness, not with the guilt weighing on you on top of everything. Nothing had changed for the better, you had added new problems to the ones you already had. The image of blood being washed away by rain, mixing into mud, haunted you. It had rained the day of your wedding too. And had you simply imagined that it had every day since? The storm sounded like wailing, like that of a newborn.

You tore the sheets with your teeth and wove them into makeshift rope. 

tags: @kage-tobiuo @kreishin @rosephantomhive @yeahdrarry @splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiess @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid @ariachaos @cerisearan @irisspade @yaesflorist @jcrml @xiaosprettygf @yevenly @amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man softbummiee

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[atomicpizza64]

Yet another 50 villains for Lorch!

I’ll try and stick the major spoilers for Urasawa’s Pluto, Persona 5 and Watchmen under the cut. It might not work, and there is still spoilers for various other media, so beware!

Debatable for some but I don’t care. I will try and explain some reasons why they aren’t totally bad, and I’ll keep adding to it as I’m not sure it’s 50 yet

Mr Nobody (Doom Patrol): Your honour, he’s just a goofy guy! Hasn’t actually done too bad (at least in the comics), he’s just following Dadaist principles

Rhorchac (Watchmen): messed up childhood lead to screwed morality but he still has moments of mercy, attempts to fight evildoers

Gideon Gleeful: kinda just a kid raised in a cult who let attention go drastically to his head

Roxie Richter: (Scott Pilgrim, mostly Takes Off): enraged by Ramona abandoning her, takes it too far but got over it after a heart to heart

Darth Vader: Took his grief extremely far, destroys a greater evil at the cost of his life

Harry Lime (the third man): it’s mostly just charisma. Pretty nice to Holly… but may have killed a bunch of kids.

Dr Frankenfurter (RHPS): YOUR HONOUR HE IS JUST A GOOFY GUY

Plankton: completely ineffectual.

Father (C:KND): repeats the chain of harm caused by his own dad

Gladion (Pokémon): joins team Skull to rebel against his abusive mother

Guzma (Pokémon): forms team skull to vent dissatisfaction with the trial system and support loners, implied to have gifted kid burnout and an abusive parent (at his parent’s house on Melemele island, there is a bunch of golf clubs that are described as “broken and bent” 😬)

Asgore: Tries to kill Frisk but only to save his beloved kingdom and its innocent inhabitants

Oersted (live a live): desperately trying to repent. I’m not too familiar with his game tho

Badeline (Celeste): a manifestation of anxiety

The time Empress (Cris Tales): sort of sacrifice a few to save all motivations

Spamton: ineffectual, ostracised and betrayed by a partner

Eldegard: idk if I can summarise it here

Bowser: flips from game to game, sorta falls under goofy guy

Alice Hiiragashi (P5S): bullied relentlessly in high school, tries to be bigger than she actually is

The Enchantress (Shovel Knight) possessed version of your partner

Kokushibo (Demon Slayer): always felt massively inferior to his brother

Akaza (Demon Slayer): lost his adoptive family

Shadow the Hedgehog: lost his best friend

The narrator (Stanley Parable): ends up stuck in a horrific time loop, has moments of kindness

Pikmin Louie: sorta just acting based on bad social skills

Catra: scarred child stuck in a war manipulated by parental figures

The collector (owl house): scarred child in a war manipulated by a parental figure

King Andrias (Amphibia): desperately tries to atone, manipulated by his dad and the core

Pink (The Wall): suffered bullying at school, absent dad, smothering parent and a cheating spouse

Spinel (SU): abandoned by her only friend for hundreds of years

Vace (I was a teen exocolonist): young kid with no real anger outlet

Norman Bates (Psycho): unable to get any help he desperately needs due to the time period

Mr Burns (the Simpsons): often completely ineffectual, moments of kindness

Jack Torrance (the shining, mostly the book): manipulated, attempts to make right but fails

Frank Butterman (Hot Fuzz): only doing what he does out of a misguided desire to make the town he loves absolutely perfect

Winslow Leach (Phantom of the Paradise): taken advantage of and had his life’s work stolen

Zuko: scarred child in a war manipulated by a parent

Jessie and James: two kids from different kinda messed up backgrounds that want to rebel; also very ineffectual

Hans Beckert (M): unable to get the help he needs due to time period

Tetsuo (Akira): teenager who needs an anger outlet; the main reason he was chosen for the experiments was by chance, so Kaneda is aware of his status as a foil; has no control over his powers

Nox (Wakfu): will do anything to archive the goal of reunification with his family

Toga (MHA): ostracised and turned to villainy due to the gory nature of her powers, doomed yuri

Ice King (Adventure Time): ineffectual; lost his mind and has no idea what happened

Sy (1 hour photo): desperately lonely, implied to have been driven to join the perfect family due to childhood trauma

Croix (Little Witch Academia): slipped into darkness due to jealousy, sorta repents

Alma Madrigal (Encanto): went through the war and the death of her husband, just doesn’t really know how damaging she can be

Seymour Krelborne (LSOH): a meek guy who found himself in a position of control and desperately tries to hang onto it

The Kid (Blood Meridian): genuinely tries to be a better person at the end

All of the gang (IASIP): almost everyone had a terrible childhood and show prominent moments of kindness

Uncle Deadly (The Muppets): haunts the theatre, but was straight up murdered by his own critics

Hal 9000 (2001): doesn’t have much control of his actions, as it is the result of a coding paradox

the iron man (Black Sabbath): mistreated by society before a “then let me be evil” realisation

Q (ST:TNG): silly guy, somewhat of a trickster mentor, in the way he gives lessons for the crew, even if 18 people died that one time

get rekt

PLUS: Takuto Maruki: he just really doesn’t want what happened to his partner to happen to anyone else, even if the world stagnates

Goro Akechi: young kid manipulated by an abusive parent

Ozymandias (Watchmen): does potentially halt the end of the world, but at the cost of numerous lives

Goji (Pluto): witnesses the death of his family firsthand

Sahad/Pluto: scared kid manipulated by a parental figure, abeit after a war this time

[versaphile]

Another bit of Trigun meta about Vash and Knives. I’m plowing through TriMax and I got to the Ark section, and Knives sticking Vash in a cage for 7 months??? (What the hell Knives, also what the hell happened during all that time?? There’s no way shit didn’t go down. Must find fic. There must be fic.) Also sticking every other plant in a cage but. 

Back to TriStamp and Knives’ messed up plan there. On the one hand, clearly a superior plan to make all other plants Independents instead of making them all himself (though to a degree it really is the same plan, he is also trying to make all other plants himself, mirrors of himself, perfect in the way he considers himself perfect, untouchable, needing no one and nothing, superior to all other life). 

On the other hand, the method he has for achieving this plan is to literally turn Vash into a Dependent plant. Trapped in a tank and unable to act for himself, entirely vulnerable, used for what can be taken from him, used for what he can make. And Knives still sees this as purifying and protecting Vash. Turning him into the very thing that Knives fears and detests, something weak and helpless and completely exploited. 

He is so angry at Vash. Just astronomical levels of anger and hurt. With the attempted genocide and all, it’s easy to get distracted by his anger at humanity, but his anger at Vash is so much more personal and bigger. He feels utterly betrayed by every choice Vash has ever made since they were born, every way Vash was not his mirror image, every way Vash mirrored humans (Rem) instead of plants. Knives’ anger is so much because he sees Vash as a part of himself, but Vash keeps pulling away from him, keeps being something Knives doesn’t want a part of himself to be. 

But also Knives still loves Vash completely and Knives is furious about the fact that <em>Vash doesn’t love himself</em>. Vash will do absolutely anything but love and protect himself, this part of Knives that Knives can’t control. Every time Vash hurts himself for the sake of humans, it’s Vash hurting Knives, it’s Vash saying through his actions that he and Knives are not worth a single human life, that it’s right for humans to exploit all plants including Vash himself and by proxy Knives as well.

I also got to the big TriMax flashbacks to Tesla and Conrad and Vash’s childhood suicide attempt. I really hope they include some of this in TriStamp season 2, because it’s so powerful and explains so much about Vash. His desperation for clinging to life and joy even in the darkest moments, and things get so absolutely dark. His near-inability to love himself or let others genuinely love him, let their love into him. He fights so hard in defiance of his own grief and pain, in defiance of the fear and despair that almost destroyed him and Rem and Knives in one fell swoop. 

And how awful that it was Knives who trusted and loved humans more than Vash as children in TriMax. I think that’s why the trauma of Tesla consumed him. Vash was already afraid and came very, very close to letting that trauma consume him too, only for Rem to pull him back with her love. Knives felt safe and secure and then had all that ripped away in an instant, and because of his coma during Vash’s ordeal, he never had any reconciliation or healing from Rem. Not in the deep, life-changing way Vash did. And in fact, Vash’s closer connection to Rem after Tesla probably felt like an incomprehensible betrayal to Knives, the first in a long line. How could Vash love humans more than Knives, after Tesla? It was all wrong. Vash was wrong and he had to be saved from himself and from whatever the humans might do to them next.

But Rem saving Vash’s life, that made Rem a part of Vash even more than being their adoptive mother. And losing her not long after they had this life-changing experience together. It must have felt like Knives killed a part of Vash in the Big Fall. And ripping Rem away in that formative time, it made Vash this torn live wire, needing to put all that love into something to ground him, and where else but every other human? Into the survivors, people who Knives hurt just like him. People (he hoped) would be just like Rem, that would keep Rem alive in some way. 

I do think it might happen in TriStamp season 2 because there’s clear indications that Conrad was awake at some point on Ship 5. He recognizes Knives when they reunite on Noman’s Land, and he might also be the reason why Vash and Nai have secret plant profiles in the computer, since it’s unlikely that Rem would have put the data in when she’s trying to pass them off as humans.

Reading through TriMax, it’s been really fascinating to see all the pieces that were pulled out and remixed for TriStamp. Like Vash and Knives’ ridiculous conversation about running away from humans and coming back again! Almost word for word from the Ark fight. I’m so incredibly curious for what they’ll do for season 2. I still have several volumes left to read but TriStamp really plows through the themes and major plot points and character moments even in those scant 12 episodes of season 1. It makes the world feel so rich even though we only get glimpses of so many things.

Also, I kept waiting for it to be revealed that Legato has Vash’s arm but apparently that concept was created for the 98 anime?? I am honestly surprised. It’s such a fantastic idea and I really hope that’s what they’re doing with Legato in TriMax, it does feel like they’re hinting at his arm being important. And it gives me a reason to tolerate Legato, lol.

I am starting to have a better appreciation for the contributions of the 98 anime to the Trigun canon. It’s obviously much more lighthearted overall, more emphasis on the western worldbuilding while TriMax really just goes hard on the giant battles and SF as it goes on. I still find 98 a bit too goofy in places, especially the rather tedious “horny Vash” stuff (ugh). I’m rewatching now that I have more context, which helps a lot, as the back half of 98 felt like quite an abrupt shift and left me quite confused in places. 

[scribble-dribble-writes]

IF namor x shuri does become canon, how do you think they’d be marketed? like what would their dynamic be and how would they go about it?

Woah such a great question!

I need them to be canon because if they were to come together, they would become a representation for those who have roots in both heritages. Lupita felt moved when she got to play Nakiya and speak Spanish. They're not just another enemies to loves or a beauty and the beast retelling, those parts of the trope are used but they're sooo much more bigger and if not grounded than that.

They will represent two highly strong individuals and intelligent beings coming together. Its often the trope in movies, where they write a strong woman character but never give her a romantic love interest. Because at the end of the day "she's good on her own", that narrative is so detrimental to women in general, cause even if you know your worth and value, you will still end up alone. I guess that's why even after so many years, I keep going back to the hunger games movies and books. Cause Katniss as independent as she is also has Peeta who loves her for it. So Namor and Shuri's dynamic will be similar to that.

Now the most common theme that is portrayed and is a force to reckon with is the idea of colonisation in the movie, that is repeated over and over and we see the aftermath of it. It hurt people and cultures and destroyed so many possible futures. We live in a world today that has enabled people from those cultures to have a voice of their own.

When India was invaded, the British divided it first and the conquering bit came easy. They turned the varied amount of tribes and small kingdoms against eachother. Piting them based on the fact that they are different. If you're so focused fighting on of your own for personal reasons, it's much easier for someone else to slip through. The result of that action to an afflicted community to be scared of anyone, that everyone else is going to be the same. The only way to battle that is unity. Gandhi led the movement and today is a mark in history, that when all of us come together, no force can stand against us. Namor and Shuri coming together will symbolise that, two cultures can exist together. They are not the enemy. Allies is such a strong concept throughout the movie. When we head out of the theaters, that's who we are. As a person of colour, it ties all of us together and by being united, we will start to heal.

As individual characters, it will again have an amazing impact. A lot of people identify with both of these characters. In an interview, Tenoch was talking about how Namor's humanity was built upon. That at the end, he is just a man protecting his family. He believes he's unworthy of love. So many resonate with that. Now taking that character and giving him a gruesome end is doing no good. You're not enabling a pathway for change or redemption. Namor does not need to be redeemed, yes, but giving him the opportunity to do so and watch him reevaluate what he needs to do is another beautiful journey much like how they handled the topic of grief in this movie. We can move forward if we wish it.

Shuri herself is morally grey, she has a streak of darkness and it's amazing. Women often get portrayed in all white. The main concept behind it being purity and if she were to do anything wrong, she loses everything. She's got vegence and anger, to see Namor say or in a sense validate her for her emotions was freeing. A man loving a woman in all her forms? Yeah that's what all of us want! The moment she fears she swayed deeper into the dark side, she's getting what she's asked for Namor at her feet but she's resisting from killing him. She's rethinking all of it. The message in that scene is to show them who you are, which is so beautiful. Yeah you've slipped up here and there, but it doesn't change who you are within. That again, if you wish you can get past your hurt and still reach out.

Them coming together will be marketed with such points in mind or at least I would have it like that. They're not just another MCU couple for the sake of it. They hold weight and trauma but through it also peace and love 🥹😩