something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.
His grey hairs are so earned
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Submas AU October - Day 11: Apocalyptic
(bringing in my dystopian AU for this one, since its basis is technically apocalyptic)
Meet the Resistance - a group of people living in the oppressed city of Lower Unova.
In an alternate world where Volo was able to win the battle at the Temple of Sinnoh and subjugate Arceus, he's successfully rebuilt a new world in his vision. As the self-proclaimed emperor, he rules over Lower Unova (a city that is scarce on resources) with an iron fist, especially to those who actively oppose him; meanwhile, Upper Unova prospers and flourishes with those who follow his lead.
Despite all odds being stacked against them, especially facing Emperor Volo's army in constant battles and skirmishes, the members of the Resistance still fight - for they one day hope to overthrow the emperor and bring peace to both cities. To unite them.
And to keep their fighting spirit strong, they wear an emblem on their clothes to serve as a constant reminder of what they're fighting for... Though this emblem resembles a Pokemon they're only familiar with in either spoken legend or limited written lore, it's still one they choose to believe will help bring them peace someday.
Here we have (pictured from left to right, for the most part):
Alder - Leader of the Resistance (and also essentially a father figure to Emmet)
Nate & Rosa - orphaned children who aren't members of the Resistance, but rather who are close to many of its members
Mallow - a chef and medic
Elesa - a fighter, childhood friend of Emmet
Blacephalon - Emmet's main battle partner; with Emmet's command of a simple snapping of the fingers, it will use its Mind Blown attack
Emmet - one of the Resistance's strongest fighters; ah, I think I'll save more on him for later ;) (just for context his mask is supposed to be based on Blacephalon, more on that later too - he wears it into battle, though, helps obscure identity and such)
(FINALLY I RELEASE SOMETHING ABOUT THIS AU!! tbh I had intentions of getting this done during Emmet month buuuut it got away from me - but here it is now! better late than never, right? this is probably my favorite au of mine that i've made so far and i hope to show more of it ;w;)
((btw not... all resistance members pictured here, but... well, you'll see what i mean soon enough :D))
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Admittedly, the floaty limbs characters can at times be a little awkward, so I've been having fun imagining Magolor like this!
I imagine floating being some kind of evolutionary adaption to space. That comes with not getting dizzy from spinning either due to lack of balance coordination sensory or something. Which also probably means he can't stand on ground.
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