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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

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maybe we can be more than this (servant/master)

characters !! diluc, ayato

contains !! just dialogues of gn reader. angst/comfort?? i think

synopsis !! thinking about servant and master where it's so obvious you're both in love but you can't bring yourself to cross the line and it hurts him sm—

+ + +

D I L U C

He's frustrated, pacing around as you desperately try to explain.

"Master Diluc, you must understand why–"

"Just Diluc."

"But Master Diluc–"

"How many times must I tell you, (Name)?" He turns towards you, a scowl on his lips as his voice rises. He breathes heavily before his shoulders lower, relaxing, and his face changes to that of hurt.

A quiet heartache.

"How many times must I hear you call me that? We've been friends for so long. I've loved you for so long. Can't I be more than just that to you. . .?" He looks down on the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

You feel your lips part, heart aching. How could you dare?

". . . Diluc," You whisper and his eyes snap towards you, hopeful, as your hand makes its way to cup his cheek, "You are already more than just that to me."

"Then allow me to be with you." He begs quietly.

"You know why I can't." You sob, feeling his own warm hands cupping your cheeks.

"Please, (Name)."

"Don't."

"Please,"

". . . I have to go help Adelinde turn off the gas lamps. Please get some rest, Master Diluc."

+ + +

A Y A T O

"Look at this, (Name)," He states harshly, stomping into his office as you trail behind, helplessly explaining, "Look."

Ayato roughly gestures to the pile of papers on his desk. Each in beautiful stationery, stamped cleanly.

"Marriage proposals. Each and everyone of them, I've rejected. I did this for us." He turns to you, a look of hurt in his eyes.

"Lord Kamisato, you know why–"

"You didn't use to call me that. I was Ayato. I was-"

"-That was when the Kamisato household was falling apart! It's different now and you know that-!" You cut in.

"It is different! Now the Kamisato household has the power and influence. If you marry me, I will take down every obstacle in our way."

Silence. He stares at you from across the dark office, only moonlight filtering in to highlight his baby blue hair. You know he's desperate, having danced around the topic for ages, but how could you be the clan's weakness? You can see how everyone would talk— how history would talk about it.

'Such a fine bachelor yet he chose a mere servant. Is there something wrong with the clan?'

'He was seduced. Held down by a childhood friend. You can't even trust a servant.'

'The clan had only recently gained its influence, yet it's falling apart again, all because of some—'

"Ayato," You try to hold back tears. You know it's unfair to him if you use this card. "If you love me, then please— don't make me do this to the clan. Don't make me do this to you."

He looks defeated. Shoulders slumped, tired, as he brings up a hand to rest on his forehead. Looking away from you, he sighs, "Had I known it would be like this, I never would have taken you in as my servant."

character m.list || ko-fi

note !! nothing hits differently than men with everything except the love of their life *shrugs* anyway my links have been weird lately idk why so hopefully this story posts without issues

#genshin #favoniuslibrary #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #diluc #ayato #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #kamisato ayato #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin fic #diluc angst #ayato angst #genshin fanfic

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werywrenniethoughts · 7 months

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"Security Alert!! Security Alert!!!"

Allow me to overanalyze this ONE line and its implications if you don't mind.

Sun shouts this immediately after throwing Gregory out of the daycare. Instantly, every other main animatronic we've encountered up to this point is there, ready to grab Gregory. Their only deterrent is Glamrock Freddy. (However, it's worth noting he was "unable to reach" Gregory until that moment to prove my point.)

GUYS, I think we just got a glimpse at what could have been a standard MegaPizzaPlex emergency protocol. It's the equivalent of a panic button. JUST IMAGINE: There's a parent or relative attempting to swipe a kid from the daycare during a separation, child abuse case, etc. Sun gets that unruly person out of the daycare and sounds the alarm. All the main animatronics are then priority directed to come to the daycare to neutralize the threat while Sun protects the little ones inside. FazBear Entertainment may be shady, but I'd like to think they've come a long way at this point in the series to avoid SOME liability situations.

Even Moon is the most aggressive he is within the game directly after this moment. If you step out of Freddy on purpose or by accident (which, I did lol), Moon insta-kills you. No countdown, no warning, no idling with his cool moves. Straight up ENDS you the second you're on the ground. Normally, you're perfectly fine to walk around Moon whether you're in Freddy or not up until you hit the hour.

Sun calls someone to get you again if you attempt to go down the slide after being banned, too. In that case, I've only ever seen it be Monty pre-shattering, but I don't think anyone has tried to shatter him before Chica, so I am unsure if this would change who comes to stop you. If Monty has already been defeated, it seems to just not do anything.

(Not directly related, but, Freddy's speech explaining how the Attendant is free to roam the building when the lights are out also implies that otherwise, he is NOT allowed to leave the daycare. He is the one who WILL find you if you're in Freddy, no matter what. It's like Fazbear is purposely hardcore limiting Sun/Moon's mobility within the Plex for one reason or another.)

To see this place on a normal day of operation, pre-virus, would be so amazing. I'm just SO proud of Sun for taking such good care of his charges. A shame that after the lights were turned off during Gregory's visit, Sun felt he was safer away from him.

#sun and moon fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf the daycare attendant #fnaf #fnaf superstar daycare #moondrop #sundrop #fnaf sb theory #sort of #what if

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bedoballoons · 8 months

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Oh wow fantastic I loved it!! now I kinda want a part two to the whole short post what did happen after finding out there darling likes tall guys how will they comfort there rival

I'm assuming you meant confront! I hope so at least cause that's what I wrote! If not I can totally write a second one! Thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Yanderes confront their rivals~༺}

This is a Part 2! Part 1:

CW: Fighting, using their obsession to get information, a knife is mentioned, Freminet trains you to like him, descriptions of blood, slight gore, confronting, yandere themes, some angst, and Lyney call reader mon amour!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You knew Lyney was the reason Neuvillette had gone missing, it was obvious and yet no one could arrest him because there wasn't enough evidence, not to mention without the Chief of Justice...how could you have a trial? The whole of Fontaine was now in disarray, searching for Neuvillette everywhere and anywhere Lyney could have taken him, but not a single place had any results.

You didn't even know if he was still alive...but you just couldn't give up, thats what led you to this moment, honeyed words slipping past your lips and your arms around Lyney, batting your eyes at him..."Lyney, I'm all yours, Neuvillette is no longer a threat to that I promise. Let him go..." The magician sighed softly, so tempted, so enraptured by you that he almost gave it away from your beautiful eyes alone, "You know as well as I do mon amour, if I do as you ask...I'll be taken away to Meropide. Away from you..."

You bit your lip, wandering how deep into this act you'd have to go in order to convince him, "Not if they don't catch you, we can run away together... just you and me..." You kissed his cheek and he caved...unable to resist you any longer, "I can't say no to that..."

He reached out his hand, a card between his fingers...but it wasn't like any of his others, it was blue with a a outline of Neuvillette. "Neat isn't it?" Lyney asked when he'd caught you staring and with a snap of his fingers the card began to change, blue smoke circling around a spot on the ground until it sudden disappeared, leaving Neuvillette in its place...

"Neuvillette!"

He seemed perfectly healthy, shaken to say the least, but otherwise fine. It felt like you could breath again like everything would be okay...he could save you...right?

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You hadn't heard from Tighnari in over a week and you felt so guilty...after how hard it must have been to confess his feelings, you shot him down without even a moment to think if you really wanted to,... just because he wasn't exactly your type. Now he was probably in his home, regretting his decision to ever tell you how he felt in the first place...ever be nice to you at all for that matter.

You sighed, opening the door to your humble abode, only to see one of the most terrifying things even your nightmares could have prepared you for, "T-tighnari?" The fennec fox looked up at you with a crazed smile, a small hunting knife tightly gripped in his hand...the blade of it against against what looked to be a drugged Alhaitham, "You're finally home! We've been waiting for you...sorry to barge in uninvited but I had to show you that I was better than him. Let you see that I can overpower him, even though he's stronger and...taller."

You felt your chest tighten with fear, your hands shaking uncontrollably, "What... d-did you do to him Tighnari?" Meanwhile Tighnari was acting as if this was a casual hangout between the two of you, his tail swaying behind him and his ears twitching in delight, he even chuckled when Alhaitham attempted to mutter something, "Don't worry, he's just poisoned. I asked if he wanted something for a headache he was having and then I gave him something, it just wasn't what he had in mind..."

"Tighnari...let him go. T-this is crazy!" You felt tears welling up in your eyes, your body screaming at you to run for help and yet you felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. "I'm not crazy, I'm dedicated,...to you. I want nothing more than to be with you and if I have to make sure the scribe isn't able to interfere to have that, then I will." His eyes sparkled at the mention of being with you...

"...just let him go. Give him a antidote and I'll s-stay with you. Please Tighnari, don't hurt anyone more than you already have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot down your confession so quickly, but I'll m-make it up to you" You reached your hand out and he wasted no time accepting it, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, all of it seeming so innocent..

"As long as you stay with me...no one else will ever get hurt."

𑁍༄Venti:

You'd never seen such a war before...archons battling against eachother, destroying the land with power far greater than you ever could have imagined, all of this...because you couldn't see yourself with someone short, what was Venti doing! By now there was a large crowd of people, some from Liyue, some from Mondstat and each of them cheering for their own Archon. There were even fights breaking out over who was better....

This had to stop. "Venti! Venti listen to me! I know you're angry and that's okay, but starting a war just because I said I wasn't into you isn't the way to feel better!" You shouted as loud as you could, but he wasn't able to hear you, the sound of large rocks crashing into the ground and highwinds ripping trees right out of the land impossible to talk over. Was it a lost cause...?

You shook your head, unable to give up at the thought of your friend getting hurt...even if he was stupid for starting it in the first place...you cared about him. You swallowed your fear and gathered up all of your courage, running into the danger zone, barely able to keep your footing while you continued to call to the anemo archon. "Venti! Vennntii!!"

Suddenly the part of land you'd been running on ripped away from the rest of the ground, flying upwards with you holding on for dear life, "Venti! Hellpp!!!" You felt your grasp slipping and then you were spinning, falling back down at such speed you'd die on impact, you shut your eyes tightly, praying for everything to be okay.

Then there was a gentle breeze surrounding you.. lifting you upwards, the entire battle out on pause when you came face to face with Venti, shocked to see him in his archon outfit, "Venti please, I'm sorry. Don't take this out on Zhongli, don't make such a big mess because of me. I'm... not worth it." You looked down at all the dilapidated area beneath you...all of this for you?

"You're worth more than every world or star in the entire universe...I'd fight to the end for you." The anemo archon touched your cheek softly.., making you feel something you never had before..

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet wouldn't leave your side, keeping you away from Neuvillette at any costs... pampering you with romaritime flowers and ocean shells, convincing you in ever way he could think of that he was better. He'd be there in the morning with warm breakfast and a nice hot beverage, he'd walk with you anywhere you needed to go so he could keep you safe and...people were noticing. Most thought you were dating. Even congratulating you two...but he always answered before you could, thanking them happily.

Truthfully...he was training you to only want to be around him and it was working...

𑁍༄Aether:

"ITTO!" You screamed, your skin paling at the sight of the Oni you had been crushing on so much, taken down to the ground with dark crimson blood dripping from his head onto grass beneath him, his face badly bruised and beaten up. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing, your heart racing as you looked to the culprit... his face speckled with deep red flecks of blood and sickening smile on his lips..

"W-why...Aether, you're supposed to be a hero why would you...he didn't...h-he didn't deserve this!" You rushed to Ittos side, holding his large hand in yours and staring at the damage someone you thought you could trust caused.

"I did it for you. Now he can't take you from me..., now there's only one hero for you and it's me." Aether grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you close to him while you tried desperately to shove him away, "No! Let go of me! Help! Someone help!!" You screamed frantically, searching for any other signs of people...but nobody was around? How was that possible! It was the city?!

Aether smiled at you sadistically, "Being a famous hero and knowing important people means I can say there's a need to evacuate...and everyone will just leave. No one...can hear you now..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧

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inhonoredglory · 10 months

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A Wartime Footing: An Explanation for Aziraphale's Elevator Smile

(Based on an ask from @sabotage-on-mercury in response to my meta on why Aziraphale had to go to Heaven)

The creepy smile was one part of the ending I couldn't quite put my finger on either, until someone pointed out on a Twitter response to my meta:

The reason why its scary is bc azi is becoming properly angry at the system and is 101% determined to set things right (Source)

In season 1, Aziraphale was determined not to kill anyone to stop the Apocalypse. He wouldn't even tell Crowley where the Antichrist was, because Crowley's only solution was to kill him.

And because Crowley consistently didn't have any ideas ("not one single better idea??"), Aziraphale took it on himself to pursue the only option left––to ask God to intervene and stop both Heaven and Hell from destroying Earth. Therefore, Aziraphale had to keep the integrity of his angel status by distancing himself from Crowley, while the world was still in danger.

Despite this dedication avoid bloodshed, when God didn't have an answer, Aziraphale went against one of his core beliefs to help save the world. He was willing to murder a child.

For Aziraphale, that takes guts. And (seeing how he reacted at the end of the Job minisode), I wonder that if he had killed Adam Young, Aziraphale would have checked himself into Hell.

Going to Heaven for Aziraphale is ultimately a conscious choice, one that he is clearly afraid of. We see him constantly steeling himself again the Metatron in the end, covering his fear and hurt from losing Crowley with a placid smile and a flippant attitude. He's wearing so many masks, to Crowley, to himself, to the Metatron...

All season we've seen him playing roles (detective, magician, doctor, landlord). But the final role is warrior. Going up that elevator, we first see Aziraphale's eyes searching, worried, panicking, but unable to show it because he's not in a safe space. He swallows, blinks, he's breathing hard (you can see his entire shoulders rise and fall).

But as he goes up, his expression steels. He's quite literally putting on a mask (to himself): a vengeful, hardened expression of pure anger and rage (to drown out the fear and uncertainty he so clearly still has).

Michael Sheen conveying contained anger in both Good Omens and Masters of Sex.

Cuz this isn't just him scrambling to kill a kid, this is him walking calmly and knowingly into sacrificing everything he loves most (Crowley, the bookshop, his entire life on earth) to create a world that will always be safe for him and Crowley and humanity for the rest of time. Where he would have to go up against the most powerful angels, the Metatron, and God Themself to change things. He can't be the kind, sweet angel he was on Earth. That won't cut it in Heaven if he wants to make a difference in any real way.

He wanted to do it with Crowley, with the love and support and strength of his demon. But without him, Aziraphale has to channel something else to keep his resolve afloat.

Something he had when he was a warrior, fighting on the front lines of a battle between Heaven and Hell, when he very likely led a platoon into divine fields of bloodshed before the earth was born. When he was an avenging angel.

I haven’t done this since the Great War.

It was a time and an identity he had chosen to leave behind, because it wasn't the kind of angel he was anymore ("I'm not fighting in any war!"). In this context, you can read Aziraphale's passionate unwillingness to take a life (his pacifism) directly into his past experience as a warrior. It is often the veterans of terrible wars who are the most earnest advocates for peace. (And especially in Britain and Europe, where the violence of the world wars is still such a powerful and painful national memory.)

As he goes up the elevator, he's breathing so hard we can hear it mirrored in the soundtrack, and he is so hyperfocused on steeling himself that he doesn't even care that the Metatron is watching him. He doesn't rest until he's psyched himself into that warrior mindset necessary to carry out this mission entirely by himself, to be both the moral advocate and the uncompromising leader of angels who had intimidated him his entire life. To demand respect and to talk to the very face of God and tell Them they are Wrong.

(Please read this Neil-approved meta for further thoughts on God and Aziraphale.)

That creepy smile is clearly not there because Aziraphale is happy to fall into a toxic parent's false love. There's no comfort or wistful nostalgia in that face. There's no "it'll be so much nicer" in that smile. It's not a happy smile. It's an I'm-gonna-fuck-shit-up smile.

Because it's a warrior's smile before they go into battle, before they put on that armor and, for a while, become something they're not in the name of some greater good. He's fucking furious and it's downright frightening.

Because I have no doubt that the angel Aziraphale we get in Season 3 is the angel Aziraphale who can say this:

He's not quite there yet in the TV show. But this bravery, this anger, this flaming rage is how it starts.

Or as he's described in the book when Aziraphale mysteriously does away with the local mafia:

Just because you’re an angel doesn’t mean you have to be a fool.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziraphale meta #aziraphale defense squad #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #go s2 meta #go meta #go s2 #michael sheen #book!aziraphale #*mine #*mymeta #made this a separate post cuz i dunno which version is better for reblogs #the side-by-side gifs kept crashing on me 😑#anyway I love and adore defending our angel #but in no way am I taking sides #I'm just coming to his aid since he's getting so much flack rn

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

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Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Fed up with Dream's stubborn and at times childish attitude, you leave Dreaming. But when Morpheus's sorrow makes itself known, Matthew has to fetch you before the kingdom completely floods.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It’s a tumultuous morning in the Dreaming. Even if none of the dreams and nightmares are privy to the ongoing feud, they know something is wrong. It’s as though the air in the kingdom, the marrow of their bones, turned bitter last night. Their skin is crawling but the sun is shining as it did yesterday. They birds chirp the same song they had throughout centuries. And yet, against their better judgment, something is terribly out of place.

To be honest, you don’t even remember how all of this started but the damage is already done.

A frustrated scream ripples through your chest, "The world doesn't revolve around you!" You're fuming. There's only so much patience one person can hold and recently, Morpheus had proven himself exceptional at trying to reach its limit until he, unfortunately, succeeded today. "For someone who's supposed to know every thought ever entertained, you sure can not look past the tip of your own nose."

His eyes, cold and hurt, stare at you in utter confusion. Dark eyebrows furrow. "I do not know what you're expecting of me,” he states in an angry voice. It appears that he really does not understand the reason for your outrage. "I am not human, I am unable to look at the world as you do."

Of course he says that, you think to yourself. It seems to be his favorite line of defense. Dream of the Endless is a strange, eldritch creature. He doesn’t comprehend the world like a mortal does and, or some reason, he treats this fact of nature as an excuse not to try. At first, you thought it charming - to see the universe through the eyes of a creature you can barely begin to understand. Who wouldn’t? The strange wonder of the man in front of you made you seek his company again and again. Truthfully, there’s something poetic about it: the reason you’ve come back to him so many times might be the very reason you bid him farewell. For good.

"Good news, then: you don't need a cardiovascular system to exercise empathy.” Your sarcastic tone has an effect on Morpheus. He frowns, hurt by your words, only to grow angry that he’s so affected. Dream’s pride makes him want to not be influenced by your bitterness. Alas, he cares more than he’s willing to admit. "Not everything is about you, Morpheus, and until you realize that, I don't think we've got more to talk about. Goodbye."

Even after you shut the door behind you, the word echoes through the castle. The stone walls seem to whisper it back to Morpheus, rubbing the salt in his wound. How strange it is - to be haunted by somebody still alive. To be the king of dreams and feel hopeless. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to be unmade.

A thunder rolls. A blue lightning splits the sky in two. Despite the lovely weather in the morning, it starts to rain in the Dreaming.

The storm doesn’t stop after a few hours nor does it cease after a few days. Black clouds cover the sky as they did four days ago. The only change is in the water level: the kingdom is flooded. When everyone thought the rain is bound to stop soon, no one minded much the rising tide. However, when the situation only worsened with no evidence that it’s going to improve in the near future, worried voices started to reach Lucienne. If the storm doesn’t cease in the next day or two, some parts of the Dreaming will share the fate of Atlantis.

If Morpheus knew he was being observed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel up for another confrontation. In any event, he remains still, standing against the balcony reiling, as his friends begin plotting:

"How is he?" Matthew whispers to Lucienne. "Has he moved from there at all? Ate something? Said anything?"

"That's three 'no's, I'm afraid,” she answers slowly. The librarian lets out a heavy sigh. "He's just dramatically standing there, wallowing in pity."

Dream really is 'just standing there’. Drenched. His hair and clothes are stuck to his pasty skin. It can’t be comfortable but it would appear that matters other than cosiness are on his mind at the moment. For the past few days, ever since you left, he hasn’t moved even a quarter of an inch. Truthfully, he looks about as alive as a marble statue, if monuments could appear excruciatingly miserable.

"Should we do something?" The raven continues. What he really wants to ask is 'What should we do?’ but Lucienne seems to catch the undertone of his words nonetheless.

"You could ask her to come back but no guarantee she'll want to,” she thinks out loud. "They've fought before but this time she looked really defeated."

Morpheus, although doesn’t need to breathe, sighs loudly. As he exhales, another lightning tears the sky apart.

"Alright, I'll try to convince her to talk to him again,” Matthew states. His worried voice makes him sound determined to have the two of you reconcile. "Hopefully, we'll be back before you need a canoe."

Lucienne doesn’t respond. As much as she doesn’t want to admit to her pessimism, she knows better than to have much hope in the matter of Dream’s love life.

Repetitive tapping on the window diverts your attention from the dishes you were washing. Seeing the black bird sitting on the outside windowsill, you quickly wipe your hands against the dishrag and jog to open the window.

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

He wastes no time pleading his case in a plaintive tone. "You gotta go back to him. Everything's gone to shit."

You furrow your eyebrows. Leaning against the wall, you cross your arms on your chest. "What do you mean?"

The raven hops closer to you. "It's been pouring nonstop since you left. He's just standing there, soaking wet and he won't talk to anyone."

It might sound sadistic but it’s a nice thought that he’s grieving your departure so severely. For what it’s worth, it means he’s not as blase as he likes to appear. Perhaps, Morpheus cares about you more than you’re even aware of.

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

"How bad?!" Matthew screeches. "The House of Mysteries is so flooded, Abel is fishing."

It sounds like 'bad' is nothing more than an elegant euphemism. In his heartache, Morpheus is willing to let Dreaming decay and fall into partial ruin. If your accusation had been correct and Dream of the Endless truly is unable to care about anyone but himself, such a disaster would never have happened. A selfish ruler wouldn’t let his realm turn to rubble because of a broken heart. And if you’re more important than what he calls home, then…

"I'm assuming that's not a usual feature,” you give the raven a half-hearted response. The thoughts inside your head are in a painful turmoil, trying to lift the truth out of the indications.

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

Matthew glares at you in anticipation. Perplexed, you rub your arm without thinking much about it. Right, it's the mature and responsible thing to do but at the same time, why do you have to be the one to cave in every time you two fall out? If Morpheus cares for you as much as his dramatic show of pain and grief would suggest, shouldn’t it be him travelling across world and realms to reach you?

The raven cocks his head. Something about the look in his eyes changes as though his frustration has faded away or grown into desperation if not powerlessness. He’s tired and out of options.

"Alright, let's go," you say with a sigh. "But no promises. I still have pride and self-respect and he's still a stubborn..." you take a deep breath, "nevermind. Let's just go."

Miserable.

That's the only word that comes to your mind as you stare at him from afar. One would think that an entity of his sort can not be or look miserable but maybe this world is even stranger than you've thought. His clothes are drenched to the point of being see-through. Dark, once-tussled hair is now stuck to his face and neck. Dream's body looks even more stringy as his head is hanging low between his shoulders.

The rain is almost deafening. Your cautious, hesitant footsteps shouldn't be audible and yet Morpheus turns around to look at you when you come closer.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says in a low, groggy voice. Dream's eyes, once blue and cold, are now red and unsettlingly vacant. Has he been crying? "What do you want?"

You take a deep breath. It was vain to expect him to welcome you with open arms. An eldritch being with a bruised ego and a broken heart could never make for a hospitable host. Even to those whom he misses the most.

"I still stand by what I said, it's just..." you hang your voice for a moment to find the proper words. Seeing him so broken by your fight makes some part of you want to renounce everything that lead to your argument. Anything just for him to be alright again. But the more reasonable side of you knows that such an action would only hurt both of you in the long run. "I admit, I could have said it in a more civilized way. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that harshness."

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

Whether he's doing it consciously or not, the rainstorm ceases. Black clouds slowly drift away to uncover a clear, blue sky. Somewhere in the West, if there are cardinal directions in Dreaming, the sun is beginning to set. Despite the significant improvement, the air remains cold. A harsh wind nips at your drenched form. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of the weather, you put your arms around your torso. Still, your body trembles.

"Perhaps I should have put more effort into understanding your concern. I'm..." he turns silent for a second. His lips are apart but no sound is coming out of his mouth. Dream's hurt gaze meets yours. "Sorry," he whispers finally. Despite his voice being hardly audible, the weight of his confession is almost deafening.

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

Those sad blue eyes stare at you in anticipation. The misery on his face makes you think that he's expecting to have his heart broken again, instead of mended.

A couple of grey clouds reappear above your heads. Oh no.

"I'm tired of always being the one to reach out," you confess. His gaze is too intense and you quickly look away from him. There's much on his mind. "No matter who's right or wrong, it's me who bridges the gap between us. Even if that angers me, I still do it. Every time. And I don't know what that says about me."

Your body trembles again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by Morpheus. He, quite literally, pulls a coat out of thin air. Dream's movements are almost fearful as he cautiously places the garment around your shoulders.

"Perhaps in certain aspects, you are better than me," he answers quietly while fixing the coat to fit you better.

You know you're pushing your luck when you look at him again and ask a not-so-innocent question:

"You mean a 'better person'?"

"I'm not-" He bites his tongue just in time. Morpheus is not a person. Both of you are perfectly aware of it. But it was the mention of this very fact that had brought such disastrous rain to Dreaming. "Yes. A better person."

There's not much conviction in his words but there is, however, a silent promise to find it.

______

Now that I’m in mourning, I thought it fitting to finish reading "Brief Lives" and the bittersweetness of it felt all the more pronounced. Reading it prompted me to rewatch the show and long story short I’m kind of back in my Sandman feels.

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jimalim · 8 months

Text

"About that..." Marie awkwardly beings to piggyback off the flirtatious tone switch in their current conversation. "I feel like we should probably address this sooner than later." She motions her finger between them, drawing attention to the change in their vibe.

Ever since they kissed, things have been charged, but they haven't actually talked about it. Or acted upon it again. Despite the handful of times they've come close.

Jordan clears her throat, suddenly nervous in Marie's presence. The confident air about her quickly melts away. She shifts and he stands tall. The cough in his throat deepening. He can only nod for Marie to continue, because he's completely unable to read her in this moment.

"I know we've been caught up in," Marie waves her hands, unable to narrow all the insanity down to a consise label. She pauses and watches Jordan's face, looking for signs. The way he swallows and his jaw clentches silently confims Marie's suspicions that there's insecurity on Jordan's end.

He runs a hand through his hair, "things were crazy, we got caught up..."

Marie hangs her head. It's somehow both exactly and also not at all what she was expecting. It's an easy out. An active downplay of the situation as it was. Of the way things currently are.

But things shifted that day. The tension between them lost its malice and grew with increasing anticipation. Marie doesn't think they can just ignore that.

Nor does she want to.

Jordan remains silent.

Marie grits her teeth. "Tell me something." She pauses and waits for Jordan to look her in the eye. "Do you always give up this easily?"

"What?" Jordan asks in confused exasperation. The low blow coming from out of the blue.

Marie stands, and shrugs her shoulders. "I mean it would explain how you couldn't stop Luke."

And immediately, Jordan is up behind her switching once again. She steps up to Marie ready to fight the moment she turns around. She doesn't take the accusation kindly.

The smile that grows across Marie's face feels sinister. And the realization dawns on Jordan the moment Marie's low chuckle hits her ears.

"You're an asshole." Jordan coughs in retalliation for the decieving tatic. But the grin on her face deceives her, lighting up her eyes, and Marie giggles at the sight.

"Now that's more like the Jordan Li I know."

"And how's that?" Jordan asks with trepidation yet incredible curiosity.

Marie steps closer to her, getting into her personal space. "Determined." She takes another step closer. "Driven." Another step. "Unrelenting." Jordan switches form, bracing himself as Marie steps in even further, just a breath away. "But I sense hesitation."

Jordan tightens his jaw. It's true. They're extremely nervous about what a potential relationship with Marie could look like. The implications of their gender and if/how that may effect Marie's feelings about them.

Marie places a hand on Jordan's cheek and gently traces a finger over his brow.

"If this is what you're worried about," her hand trails across the sharp edge of his jaw, down his neck to his chest, across to his strong bicep. She squeezes tight. And whispers, "don't be."

Jordan watches as Marie's hand moves. His breath hitches as her fingers tickle his neck. His heart rate increases the closer her hand gets to covering it. He closes his eyes and let's the feeling of Marie gripping his arm hold him steady as he slips away.

Jordan opens her eyes to see Marie still looking at her intently. She breaths out a shaky breath and Marie smiles at her softly.

Marie's hand reverses it's path back up Jordan's neck to cradle her cheek. Her thumb grazes Jordan's lips and Marie bites her own.

After a moment of taking each other in, Jordan grins. Any qualms she may have had about their potential washes away. The flitatious bravado she's grown accustomed to in their most recent interactions comes flooding back. "So what I'm getting is, you really wanna kiss this me too."

Marie laughs. "You. I wanna kiss you, full stop." Indicating she doesn't care what form Jordan's in. She likes Jordan as they are.

Jordan cycles through shifting forms, back and forth, male, female, male, female, again and again as they inch closer to Marie. It's like a sexy game of Russian roulette, until she finally stops.

She closes the distance between them and encompasses Marie in her arms. Their lips entangle and they pick up right where they left off. Hands exploring bodies, bodies being pushed against walls, clothes being discarded across the floor.

They just hope they don't get interrupted this time.

#gen v #jordanmarie #jordan li #marie moreau #limoreau #mariejordan #jordan x marie #drabble

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oneatlatime · 8 months

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Want to get your thoughts on something you've touched on in a couple places. A pretty popular idea in the fandom is that one of the (in-universe) reasons airbenders have gone so hard into the peace-and-love monk thing is a self-awareness that, if they didn't, there's not a whole lot anybody could realistically do about it.

Like, Southern Air Temple pretty strongly implies that Gyatso solo'd a room full of comet-roided firebenders. It killed him but he did it, and while he is a master Airbender, we're not given any real indication that he is uniquely so, right?

I have many thoughts on this! Sorry in advance for the long post! And sorry if this goes a bit off topic!

Short answer: I don't agree.

Long answer:

We've seen that nations' cultures tend to reflect their native bending styles. Or vice versa. It's probably a chicken and egg scenario. The Fire Nation chose to spread (like wildfire) and is full of hot headed, impetuous roid-rage sufferers who can't see or plan for the long term. Fire itself easily becomes ungovernable and is at best muzzled/leashed, always waiting for the next chance to bubble over in unplanned / unpredictable / generally unhelpful directions (Hi Zhao!). So an element shapes a culture shapes and element until you've got a positive feedback loop (or in the case of the Northern Water Tribe, a negative feedback ourobouros due to outside pressure). Importantly, neither culture nor element develops in isolation; I think they develop simultaneously.

The Earth Kingdom is probably the most rigid and unchanging, even when it would benefit them to change/innovate. We see rigidity and humourlessness in response to change or the unexpected (see Toph's parents) and we see an inability to let go of a bad idea, or mitigate the consequences / think on the go when things that were clearly bad ideas go bad in ways anyone with a non-earthbender brain can see coming a mile off (think The Avatar State episode). Earth digs in when it should retreat, stands solid when it should duck and weave. It is grounded to the point of stupidity (unless you're Toph or Bumi, although even Toph seems to be unbending so far). It's linear to the point of being unable to deviate from that line.

This is me guessing, but I figure since fire and water are opposites, air must be the opposite of earth, right? So while we'll never see airbending culture in a non-shrunk-down-to-one-person form, we can look at earthbending culture for its dark reflection. Well, probably not dark, but you get what I'm saying. They'll be opposites in world view. We can extrapolate.

So if earth is grounded, humourless, aggressively traditional, linear, then air must be constantly fluctuating, unchained, lighthearted, bonkers-all-over-the-place. The heaviness of earth would dictate that problems should be faced by digging in and facing them head on until the problem blinks first. The lightness of air would dictate that problems should be faced the opposite way: blinking first i.e. removing yourself from the problem entirely. The linearity of earth dictates that fights are solved by fighting - you punch me, I punch you. The non-linearity of air would seek to recontextualise a problem until it's no longer a problem because we all forgot what we were fighting about in the first place, i.e. throwing pies at it or busting out the marble trick. The heaviness of earth would cause excessive earthly attachment; the lightness of air would cause excessive detachment from worldly concerns.

To start violence is to make a statement that you wish to be involved. It's rooting yourself to a particular dispute, choosing a hill to die on. It stems from attachment. This is earthbendery behaviour (and Zuko-y, but let's not go there). To never start violence is to never invest, never dig in your feet and make a stand. To be detached. (I'm oversimplifying here.) It's clear from in-show examples that Aang's pacifism is of the "ladies don't start fights but they can finish them" variety; he's got no problem with self-defence (caveat: we have no idea how typical an air nomad Aang was). But he never attacks first that I can think of.

Violence is a very direct tool. If someone starts a fight with you, and you decide to continue it, you're choosing the most obvious action. Since when is airbending direct or obvious?

All this to say, I think that pacifism, peace and love, monkiness, etc., was more likely a natural and inevitable outgrowth of air nomad culture, caused by constant culture / element interaction, rather than a conscious choice.

So I think airbenders "have gone so hard into the peace-and-love monk thing" because the nature of their element creates a culture that discourages the traits required for effective offensive violence, and the inherent detachment and ever-changing nature of air naturally encouraged spiritual (i.e. monkly) pursuits rather than earthly ones, like whatever the conflict of the week is. I don't think self-awareness of the dangers of their element factors into it. Not to take away from Gyatso's accomplishment, but I think air is nowhere near the most dangerous element. From what I've seen so far that would be Fire or Earth, though I'd give the edge to Fire because they self-generate, and also because they've spent a largely successful century dominating the other elements. Waterbenders and earthbenders can be neutralised by taking away their element; airbenders - due to the very nature of their element - probably can't get past that initial avoid and evade instinct to become legitimate offensive threats.

As for Gyatso, I think he's an outlier. We know little about him so far, but we do know that: a) Aang says he's the best airbender (in I think the Southern Air Temple?); b) he's good enough that he was granted a statue while he was still living, learning, improving; and c) he's good enough that the monkly council (of which he is part) granted him the honour/responsibility of being the quasi-dad of the Avatar. These things tell me that Gyatso was the Spiders Georg of the Airbenders. I suspect Bumi is the same for the Earthbenders, and at least as far as the philosophy of bending is concerned, Iroh may be so for Firebenders. Even the example of Gyatso nuking the comet-enhanced firebenders is a case of defensive action in ultra extraordinary circumstances: he was staring into the teeth of a genocide while mourning the disappearance of his quasi-son and the likely loss of the world's only hope / chance at stopping the war. That's how far you have to push an airbender before they'll take a life. Unless the Avatar world pre-war is a lot more godawful than Aang has implied, airbenders probably wouldn't have been taking lives frequently enough for them to get to the point where they would have to start questioning whether they should consider pacifism.

I think what this fandom idea ultimately is, is a desire for the hidden badass trope. Everyone loves it when the most peaceful character in the story is revealed to secretly be a Rambo-level fighting badass, right? Who didn't love it when kindly grandpa Roku manifested in his temple and unleashed a volcano? But I think this trope fundamentally takes something away from the appreciation of Airbending, Air Nomad culture, and the concept of Pacifism as a whole. This is just my interpretation, but applying the "secretly the deadliest all along!" trope to airbenders undermines their commitment to pacifism and makes it performative rather than earnest. It's a cop out; an acknowledgement that violence actually is the answer, and even those head-in-the-clouds monks know to use it when the chips are down. This show goes out of its way to show that non-combatants have value and a place in this world that's worth fighting for, that fighting goes way too far pretty frequently, that non-violent solutions are valid, even preferable. It would kind of undermine that message if all of the elements were easily weaponisable.

Something I've loved so far about Avatar is the show's earnestness. There have been no Marvel-style fakeout bathos plots. I feel making airbending secretly the deadliest element or similar would be exactly that sort of thing. Can't my pacifists be peaceful not because they're secretly untouchable badasses who carry the biggest stick, whom the rest of the world leaves alone out of fear, who are not a threat only because they have chosen not to be, but because that's just who they are?

On the other hand: Aang's been a one-man-army plenty of times. We've seen that; that's undeniable. So air is stupidly powerful as an element. No denying that. Gyatso did murder a bunch of people trying to kill him, so air can be deadly. But I don't think your typical airbender could be deadly. If you gave a can of airbending to a firebender, an earthbender, or even a particularly provoked waterbender, I don't doubt that they could kill people with it. But the culture that the element generated - rather than a conscious choice by that culture's participants - prevents them from taking the direct, violent, solution. And I think that culture developed in tandem with airbending, so there could not have been a time when airbenders were deadly as a rule. Air shaped airbenders as much as airbenders shaped air, and it shaped them into non-violent people.

There's a lot of power in the idea of consciously choosing, and sticking to, something that is perhaps not in line with your natural abilities. Styling airbenders as deadly-but-choosing-peace is a great way to explore themes of agency, identity, strength of character, morals, maturity, etc. But, to me, there's also a lot of power in the idea that some people just can't - not won't, but CAN'T - fight their way out of things, and this doesn't make it any less wrong to genocide the crap out of them.

If the fandom wants to headcanon airbenders as secret badasses who consciously choose nonviolence, I say a) go ahead! there's more than enough evidence to support that conclusion; b) I respectfully disagree; and c) is Iroh not enough?

tl;dr in my opinion, air's pacifism was a natural outgrowth of, and restriction imposed by, the element rather than a conscious choice; airbending can be deadly but airbenders aren't; Gyatso is not representative; 'speak softly and carry a big stick' is all well and good as a philosophy, but those who speak softly and don't have a stick are of value too.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #ask #PLEASE let this not start drama #just my opinion guys!#remember I'm not yet halfway through season 2 so maybe a later episode will disprove everything I've said! Who knows! Not me!#Also I don't know anything about Eastern Philosophy which this show undoubtedly references frequently #in a way that completely goes over my head #so I may have made some entirely incorrect assumptions in this post #oops!

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ghost-in-a-flowercrown · 3 months

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my extremely disorganized welcome home theory!!!

this may sound crazy but please hear me out

there are three main points to this, all of which ill elaborate on under the cut!

one of the companies, either marlo or playfellow workshop, clearly tried to make a lot of changes to the show. this includes heavy merchandising, forcing julie/frank to be read as a couple, and cutting eddie from the show.

i think that once a character no longer appears on the air, they are forced into a sort of subliminal bond with their own home, isolating them and making them essentially unable to leave. we see this with eddie's situation.

if all of this is true, i may have a very good idea for the direction in which the story of welcome home will lead.

quick disclaimer beforehand : obviously, our knowledge on this is constantly growing and expanding! this is not my "entire opinion" on the story nor do i think this is the cold hard truth. these are simply my ideas!

in general, i think the idea of the offness coming from anything internal of the show , like the characters or home, is a far stretch .. more likely, it's coming from the people making the show itself.

my theory is that either playfellow workshop or marlo was taking control of the show , probably towards the end of its run, and making massive changes in the interest of maximizing profit. first of all the commercials clips feel off in and of themselves to me, because we can see that they literally partnered with anything in order to sell it. this is most clearly Weird in the sleeping pills wally clip, but also all over - of course this could just be that it was a popular show and wanted to make bank, but personally i think it was one of the companies pushing for more brand deals and more merchandise and more money.

this, of course, leads directly into the eddie/frank situation. as many different people have stated, this was the 1970s, and if there was any ability in the show for them to be read as a couple this could get a ton of backlash. i'm willing to bet that the company tried first of all to push julie/frank to be more easily read as a couple, then later deciding on either diminishing eddie's role a TON or deleting him completely.

and like, think about it. unfortunately, most of the characters don't really harbor any huge friendship towards him, at least not in the clips we've seen. while having positive relations with poppy, julie, frank and wally, he doesn't have as much as an outright "gimmick" or thing to sell as the others.

julie's excitable, sally's theatrical, frank's stubborn, howdy's charismatic, barnaby's funny, poppy's sweet, wally's reserved but polite, and eddie. "talks a lot". if you're an executive and you're going to cut one character from a show, especially in the interest of Not looking like theres Anything gay in your show, which would you choose?

NOW for the second part:

my believe about home, and furthermore all the homes in the series - but more directly Home - is that i think they act as sort of devices that the company can use to manipulate the characters. my theory about the eddie situation in the recent update is that it takes place in the midst of when the company was attempting to cut him from the show.

and when we see eddie in the midst of his breakdown, he's VERY tied to the post office (his home basically). he's isolated and literally states at a point during it that he assumes everyone's outside and playing in the snow, but never makes any attempt to go out and check - as if it doesn't even cross his mind. he expresses some kind of paranoid need to stay at the post office and not leave, even for a moment, which he also talks about in the videos.

when he finally DOES leave for the party, (which, btw, he only does because sally literally grabbed him and brought him there) , he starts seeing all the awful shit he sees (as we know) . INCLUDING HOME. and towards the end of it, all he says to frank is that he wants to go [ to his ] home.

what does all this mean??? im so glad u asked. basically i think that creators' actions upon the show affect the world of welcome home in subliminal ways that the characters aren't directly aware of happening (until, of course, they are.) in this case, if a character is cut from the show or their screen time is limited, they experience being subliminally forced to stay in their own home. if they try to leave, they start witnessing visceral, terrifying things that they can't explain, persuading them to return back home. back where it's "safe".

wally's home in particular, i think, enforces this the most. home is sentient so the company can probably carry out their desires more directly with him than any of the other houses (which are just structures, pretty much). i DON'T think home harbors any ill will themselves, but moreso is just carrying out what "needs to be done."

more evidence for this:

this theory is also entwined with how wally interacts with us, the people on the site, because he mentions in places like the guestbook, etc that he hasn't seen other members of the neighborhood in so long. but that doesn't mean they're not there.

so if a singular being cut from the show means that they are forced to stay in their own home and not go outside, then the show being taken off the air would, in theory, mean that everyone would be forced to stay in their own homes. for decades. wally reaching out to us could very likely be a cry for help and/or last try after years of isolation. (it would also explain why he's so much more off putting/tired/different than his in-show appearances.)

one last thing!!!! i think if that's what's going, on it could explain this sentence from the summary, unchanged since the beginning. i've never really understood this line or what it could mean, but -

this is a HUGE far cry. but i think it's possible that, if i'm right, at some point down the line the characters (still in the neighborhood) will actually try to leave their homes, or they have already, which would cause the "distortion/nightmarish memory". i mean we definitely could describe eddie's hallucination(?) as that so .

yeah i hope you enjoyed 20 minutes of me rambling ... please ask questions if some (or all) of this didn't make sense cuz im not rly sure if this is coherent lol. this also isnt all the thoughts i have about this theory but this post is too long as is lol. thanks so much for reading this far if you have!!!

#i love welcome home. so much guys #welcome home #wally darling #frank frankly #julie joyful #howdy pillar #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #sally starlet #welcome home arg #welcome home theory #:3 #i really hope this made sense

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the-whispers-of-death · 3 months

Text

The Middle: The Creation of Simon "Ghost" Riley

The Beginning, Part 1 of The Middle, Part 2 of The Middle, Part 3 of The Middle CW: Allusions to Simon "Ghost" Riley's backstory but nothing is written graphically. The most yearny/romantic part is really when he's at his family's graves, so feel free to skip down to it if need be.

When Life, your partner in balancing out the universe, told you after aeons together in the realm where only you two resided that he was going to take on a mortal form and live among the mortals, you were confused. You didn't understand why he wanted to live among the mortals, but you supposed that his love of creation and what he had created drove him to this decision and as Death, you were never going to understand it.

So you watched with a heavy heart that you concealed as he sent his soul down into a fetus that was still developing in its mother's womb, having not yet developed into a soul which was why his could reside in the developing form. You watched as that fetus grew into a baby, into Life's new form.

He was born as Simon Riley, the firstborn of what would be two sons.

As years went by, you watched every horrid moment of Simon's childhood, unable to interfere and Simon refused to let the mortal form go. Every time you stood in the shadows and he was able to speak, he told you that suffering was something every mortal experienced, the form of suffering just changed from mortal to mortal.

So you watched, and watched. It was all you could do, every time Mr. Riley was a horrible person to his wife and sons, you could not kill him. You were only meant to guide the souls of the dead to the realms of the dead and ensure they stayed there.

Life—Simon—was the one who could kill beings, mortal or immortal, but even then, he couldn't kill willy nilly. It had to be timed most of the time, so for every soul that died, a new one was created. He saw who could die when and where without unbalancing the universe, and he made sure to tell you every time you felt like killing his father that the time wasn't right.

More years passed by, Simon eventually feeling a calling to the military and enlisting when he was in his twenties. He found that being in the military helped immensely with his duties as Life, able to protect those who weren't yet to die and also able to send the fatal blow to those that were destined to die at that moment. Everything seemed fine and well.

Until Roba.

Your heart hurt to see Simon's mortal form be broken and reset in the most painful ways, ways that would surely kill someone who wasn't actually a powerful being. You were fortunate—yet also unfortunate—that you didn't have to be there all the time while Simon was with Roba.

You were pulled away every so often to guide souls that died to their afterlives, four of them unfortunately being Simon's mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. Since you knew he held sentiments for all of them, you took even extra care with their souls.

Simon eventually escaped Roba's clutches, though with it guaranteeing him to be seen as legally dead, and after he hunted down everyone in the organization, he finally found out what happened to his family.

He was standing in front of their graves, bitter and a shell of the mortal man everyone knew. But he was still Life, you could still feel the bright power signature that only you and the celestial beings could detect.

"You'll stay with me, won't you?" Simon asked when he felt your own power signature in the shadows, his voice—for a lack of a better word—sounded lifeless. His brown eyes stared blankly at the graves, he probably wouldn't be okay for a while.

You shifted on your feet until the mortal form you had taken on for the day could be seen from the shadows just a little bit. You nodded and said, "We've spent aeons together, Life. I'm here with you for the rest of time." You paused. "I'm only sorry I couldn't stop what was happening."

Simon would've laughed or smiled if he had the energy to do so because you were always so endearing to him. "Don't be sorry. It was meant to happen."

Another thing that Simon could see besides who was meant to die and when, was that he could see what events could be changed and what events not even him could interfere with.

"Does this mean you're keeping this mortal form?" You asked, frowning at the thought.

Didn't he already see enough to lose his sense of love for creation and life? How much more suffering could he take? How much more suffering could you take to see him in?

It was selfish, you knew it. But your soul yearned for him. It was why you spent most of your time watching him, you needed his presence, needed to feel his power signature settling besides yours. Every time you were pulled away to guide dead souls, you ached to return to him.

You longed for the days when you two would enjoy being in your home realm together, just the two of you.

"Death," he said, pulling you away from your thoughts. He turned his head to the side to lock eyes with you. "Know that I relish being in your presence too, but I cannot abandon this life. It's not Simon "Ghost" Riley's time yet, which is why I want you to still be by my side. With you by my side as always, I can see a future in which I can heal."

You nodded, understanding him. There was no doubt in your mind that you'd stay with him even if it meant being in the shadows for most of the days. You couldn't fathom abandoning him.

Your mind processed what he said. "Ghost?" You had never heard him being referred to such, but it seemed to be something the military gave him.

Ghost nodded. "It's my callsign, and I quite like it. Simon Riley is dead in the eyes of the law. Ghost... Ghost is all that's currently left."

"I see... Ghost," you replied, getting used to calling him "Ghost". You called him by whatever name he preferred.

"Perhaps, while you watch me from the shadows, you can think upon fully joining me in the mortal realm. You could finally have a constant mortal form."

"Don't get any ideas, Ghost."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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cartoon-lovers-world · 3 months

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Thanks for @blorbopostingtime for this idea!

FERAL BRANCH!

LET OUR BOY UNLEASH HIS INNER MONSTERS!

Anyway, I suck at writing angst so you can TOTALLY feel free to add or say anything about this. I accept and appreciate criticism

Enjoyyy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, an apology isn't going to fix everything…" Branch muttered, taking a step back.

"We know, but-"

"But what?" the youngest stammered, anger slowly replacing his initial fear. "But what?!"

"Branch, calm down-"

"Calm down? Calm down?!" he yelled, not caring if it was Floyd he had interrupted this time. "Do you even have any idea what I've been through?!"

Clay took a deep breath, trying to speak in a gentler tone than his brothers, if that was even possible. "We know we messed up, but we're here now, and we want to make things better."

Branch scoffed. "Now? Now when what? Now when I've managed to battle my own demons? Now when I've found happiness? When I've moved on from Grandma's death? Where were you during all that?"

They froze, racking their brains for a logical justification.

But there was none.

Seeing no response, he went on. "Where were you when I was having a panic attack every single day, blaming myself for Grandma's death?! Where were you, when I was living alone in the wilderness, huh?!" He stomped his foot in frustration, his hands unknowingly clenching and unclenching in fists. "Do you even know what it feels like to be rejected by your OWN people, just because you're different, because you're sad?! Instead of them actually helping you?!"

Poppy hesitated, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to move towards her boyfriend, to hug him, to comfort him, but something inside her screamed at her to stop. He needed this moment to let it out, and they needed to hear it.

He glared at them with tears in his eyes, feeling a surge of resentment and betrayal. "You abandoned me! You left me alone and I was only a freaking five-year old baby! And now you come back, acting like nothing happened, like you care about me?!" he shouted.

"Branch, we're sorry, we're so sorry-" Clay said, his voice cracking.

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it!" Branch snapped. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you? How many days have I woke up hoping against hope that you were back?!"

They took a step back, unsure of what to do or say, if there was even something to be said. They messed up, big time.

Floyd's eyes were starting to water, and he managed to mutter, "Branch, we don't want forgiveness, we just want to talk about it-" before his brother stopped him with his sarcastic tone.

"Oh, that's so great, let's talk about why we abandoned our baby brother and never came back, even though we promised, didn't we, Floyd?" he spat. "Was I even on your mind? Because if I was, I'm sure this whole talk wouldn't be happening right now!"

"That's not true, Branch, that's not true!" Floyd protested. "We love you, we've always loved you!"

"Then why did you leave me?" Branch asked, his voice breaking. "Why did you leave me when we could've talked it out? When we could've been a family?!"

They lowered their heads, unable to answer. They had their reasons, but they knew they were not good enough. They had made a mistake, a terrible mistake. And now, it was their turn to handle its consequences.

"Branch, please, listen to us-" Floyd tried again, reaching out his hand.

However, his brother flinched and slapped his hand away, shaking his head. "Don't touch me!"

"Alright, no touching, no touching!" the red-haired troll retreated, holding his hands up. "Just listen to us, please."

"Alright." Branch took a deep breath, letting it out as a frustrated sigh as he pretended to zip his lips. He gave them a sarcastic smile, silently allowing them to stand up for themselves.

Bruce began, seeing no attempt from the others. "We messed up, okay? We know we did. But we love you, we love you so much."

"Yeah, bro, and nothing will change that," John added, his voice shaking slightly as he expected another interruption. But to his surprise, their youngest brother stayed silent.

"We just want a second chance," Floyd chimed, "And we promise, this time, we'll do better."

But Branch had stopped listening long ago. What was the point? He'll trust them, get attached, then bam, they'll leave again. Same old story. Even Floyd, the one who's never broken a promise in his life, broke one promise - his and Branch's promise, and Branch didn't know if he'll ever be able to forget this one.

Everything hurt. His head hurt, his chest tightened, and his limbs were starting to shake. He closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together, but the dull troll was greeted with the room swirling around him in a dizzying manner as soon as he opened his eyes, and his brothers' intertwined voices weren't helping, if anything, they were adding to his headache. He put a hand on his forehead, desperately trying to regain his balance, but the more anyone talked, the more the room swirled. All he wanted was some quiet.

Which was the opposite of what he got when he collapsed to his knees in a heap.

"Branch! Are you okay?"

His girlfriend, as always, he thought, was the first to be by his side, and he felt her hand gently lifting his chin, locking their gazes.

"You okay?"

He nodded, deciding it'd be better if he didn't try to get up in his current state.

"Do you want water, anything?"

He shook his head, and instantly regretted the small gesture as the dizziness that was starting to subside persisted.

"Sure?" He felt her hand squeezing his, as if trying to convey as little reassurance as she could provide at the moment.

He blinked, just now realizing that his brothers were surrounding him, each putting a hand on either his shoulders or back. He took a deep breath, finally managing to his voice, and without thinking, he choked a weak, "Leave…"

"But-"

"Leave!" Branch yelled. He stood up abruptly, and quickly reached out for the nearest piece of furniture to steady himself. Great, now the room was spinning again.

"Branch, you're not okay, at least lie down-"

Branch cut off the pink troll, softer than he did with his brothers as he slurred, "Fine… fine…" His head was pounding, but he didn't care. He turned to the remaining audience with a feeble wave of his hand. "Get out…"

But their bodies wouldn't listen.

"GET OUT!"

They gasped, unconsciously taking steps back but not fully comprehending their youngest brother's words.

Till they hardly dodged the shreds of his wooden table.

"Get out! Leave me alone!"

At this point, Branch was crashing anything that came his way as he paced back and forth, moans and screams escaping his lips and palms pulling at his hair, taking out dark hairs on their way back.

"Leave! Now!" he shouted, not even looking up to face his brothers. "What part of NOW don't you understand?!"

They tried to move, but they couldn't. What happened to the baby of the family?

"Get out of my bunker! Now! Or I'll show you CRAZY!" He screamed, flipping his entire bookshelf and maniacally tearing at his books, a sight that left Clay in a trance-like state.

Poppy was the first one to recover, eyes darting between the shattered furniture and the blood on her boyfriend's hands.

When she said she wanted him to let it out, this was not what she meant, not at all.

Slightly panicking, the Queen took her sister's hand and quickly led her to the elevator, before doing the same with Branch's brothers. Each was holding another one's hand in an attempt to drag him along, though Poppy was already on that mission.

And in a blink, they were gone.

He was alone.

—------------

He was alone.

So why wasn't he calming down? Why was he still screaming?

The bunker, once tidy and organized, was now messy and dusty, debris crumbling down the walls and onto the ground. Why was he doing this? Branch didn't know for sure, all he knew was that his hands were itching.

He wanted to crash something.

He needed to crash something.

He wanted to let it out, but on what, when he's destroyed his own home?

The troll felt a surge of rage as he smashed his belongings. He had spent years building this bunker, treating it like home, like his safe place. But now it felt like a prison. He was alone, just like he had always been, so why did it hurt this time? They didn't really think that after leaving him for over two decades, and then come back, that he would want to join their party with open arms, did they? He didn't need them. He didn't need any of them.

He stormed in and out different rooms through his bunker, looking for something else to break.

But there was nothing. He'd crashed everything.

And that's when he collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving.

#Trolls #Trolls fanfiction #Branch #Poppy #John Dory #Bruce #Clay #Floyd #Brozone #Viva's there too #Feral Branch #FERAL BRANCH #Wow i suck at writing angst #Sorry but i had to write this #Trolls band together #Feral Branch fic

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zhongrin · 1 year

Text

ꦱꦸꦒꦺꦁꦢꦭꦸꦱꦪꦁ

◇ characters ◇ kaeya

◇ tags ◇ gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is sick and clingy (don't we all-), kaeya is so soggy and in love it's making my teeth hurt

◇ a/n ◇ happy holidays, all!! this is a fic for the genshin impact x reader secret santa 2022 event and is dedicated to @maaarshieee! hi there! we've never really interacted before but i found your blog because of the event and can i just say, your works are so sldkfjlskjdflsd. i wish this was longer but i am out of writing juice and i am hoping that you like the finished product :3

my javanese is super rusty so i might have butchered that title but yk what i am curious how many people can read it lmao no google translate to help you this time- ok fine i'll stop being mean- [en] translation of that title is 'good night, dear'.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“kaeyaaaa....”

“darling, go back to bed.”

it’s hard to take kaeya seriously when he’s standing in your kitchen with an apron and a ladle in his hand as he nurses a pot of porridge bought from good hunter this morning.

you pout and wobble towards him, eyes droopy and face flushed from your fever. with his swift reflexes and subtle display of precise control he has over his vision, the cavalry captain freezes off the fire on the stove before catching your body in his embrace. he's going to struggle to light the fire again without diluc's help, but your safety matters most and he doesn't think you'd appreciate your house burning down even in your delirious state.

you then proceeded to nuzzle him affectionately; he’s cool and smells good and comfy - the perfect companion for your feverish self, “missed you.”

“am i so attractive you crave my presence after just ten minutes of being deprived of it, hmm?”

you can’t see it, but a bashful, fond smile spreads unto your boyfriend’s lips when you readily nod against his chest. your sick self might be ten times needier than the normal you and is quite a handful, but he personally adores the way you oh-so-naturally seek and cling to him. it tells him that you need him even when you’re not in a rational state - that you trust him to care for you when you’re most vulnerable.

he’s wanted. he’s needed. by you. the light of his life.

but while he’s so smitten by your endearing self, he, unfortunately, also has to play the bad cop to ensure that you recover well under his care.

“just five more minutes, sweetheart. go lie down and i’ll bring you some food, then you can take your medicine.”

“mmm… don’ wanna…”

“do you want me to revoke your cuddling privileges?”

you look up at him with such horror in your expression, and he urges himself to not break his serious facade. had you known the way you're able to easily tug on his heartstrings, he’s sure it would be the end of him. it takes every bit of his determination to not crumble upon the crestfallen look in your pretty eyes and the slight downturn of your lips.

“… i’m sorry,” you finally say after a few beats of silence, understanding that he's not going to change his mind.

“you don’t have to apologize, love. just go lie down, and i’ll be with you in a se-”

“your day off,” a sniffle leaves you, “our date. i ruined it.”

your guilt isn’t unfounded - the knights of favorius doesn’t exactly have holiday breaks or frequent day offs. after all, disturbances of any kind still happen. rain or sun, summer or winter, hilichurl attacks and nefarious crimes threatens mondstadt and its citizens at all times. and so as the official protectors of the nation, it's only normal for them to be on standby at all times. and yet, now that your knightly boyfriend had managed to take his hard-earned vacation…

the edges of his eyes soften and kaeya hums, raising his hands to cup your burning cheeks and wipe the tear that had just fallen off the side of your eyes. you sigh in contentment at the feeling, and this time he’s unable to hold himself back from pressing a long kiss to your forehead; the cold sensation a pleasant distraction from the burning temperature of your body.

“is that what you’re so worried about? we can always go on dates another time,” he quickly adds when he sees you about to protest his claims, “and i don’t mind taking care of you on my day off. think of it as a repayment for all those times you nurse my hangovers.”

“but…”

“[name], darling,” the teasing lilt in his voice is nowhere to be found when he tilts your chin so your gazes meet, “it’s really fine. as long as we’re together.”

you give him a weak smile and shift to stand on your tiptoes, bringing your lips together in a sweet ki-

“-oops, naughty, naughty,” kaeya laughs from behind his palm that had covered his lips, effectively blocking your attempt at a kiss. upon seeing how offended you look, he laughs harder, hand moving to pinch your puffed up cheeks, distorting your series of grumbled protests. “i’m sorry, sweetheart, but i don’t want to get sick. sharing germs aren’t exactly caring, you see?”

“bu’ i wan a kith-” your plead is muffled against his hands and a fond look crosses your boyfriend’s face.

he’s always been weak to any sort of requests you make, especially if said request involves your ardent desire to profess your affection to him. it took him quite a while to feel worthy of your love in your early stage of relationship, but he has learned to enjoy them immensely now - although that’s not to say that he appreciates them any less. you’re still as precious to him as the first day he fell in love - if not more -now that he’s had a taste of how it feels to belong to you.

“when you're fully recovered, i’ll give you as many kisses as you want.”

“…… promise?”

“promise.”

“okay…”

“good, now that that’s settled - would you like to be carried to bed, your majesty?” your suave knight is back with the question, pearly white teeth glinting as he gives you a dashing smile.

you don't bother answering him verbally, but he still readily held you up the moment you latch onto him like an adorable sloth. it’s a short walk to the bedroom from your kitchen, and you spend the short time of tranquility nuzzling onto the knight’s shoulder, eyes closing peacefully as the feeling of safety wraps you in a blanket.

kaeya lowers you onto your bed gently, helps you adjust your pillow, and tugs the blanket up to cover your body. only when you’re tucked in comfortably your boyfriend allows himself to lovingly pat your cheek and places a kiss on the crown of your head, murmuring something under his breath; a language unknown to most and lost to time.

“what’s that one mean?” you ask drowsily, not recognizing the phrase of this specific one. you can recognize khaenri’ahn for i love you and be safe simply because of kaeya’s routinely reminders, but this one sounded foreign in your ears.

“it means ‘get well soon’,” he says as his palm rests against your cheek, further cooling the warm skin.

“i will,” leaving him with the promise, you drift onto the land of dreams.

kaeya stays for a few minutes and tells himself that it’s only so he’s sure that you’re asleep - and most definitely not because he missed your presence just as much as you did. eyeing your soft, relaxed sleeping face, he holds back the urge to press a quick kiss to the corner of your lips and redirects his target to the side of your temple instead.

another phrase falls from his lips; another routine, although he’s positive you wouldn’t recognize the words either, because he’s always said it whenever you’re sound asleep. it’s a little different than the others, only because in the language, there are a few meanings to those words.

good night.

sleep well.

i’ll be there with you when you open your eyes.

#gixrsecretsanta2022 #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader

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mydetheturk · 11 months

Text

ive been trying to come up with a way to talk about my take on The Argument, but honesty i can't get past these pages where Wolfwood shoots Rai-Dei. there are four panels on this two page spread, and no words, but god there's so much said in it. i keep flipping back and forth between it and the next page like "holy shit wolfwood. holy shit wolfwood." like. like we know. we've known since volume two of trigun that wolfwood was one of the GHG. we've known! this is knowledge that we have had for multiple volumes.

i literally cannot get over the expression on wolfwood's face in the pages leading up to their fight (and this expression lingers through their fight, mind you)

hellO????

like!!! this is the start of their argument!!! wolfwood cannot let vash die. and if he has to kill to do it he's going to kill to do it. vash is supposed to suffer. he cannot suffer if he's dead.

and this is the lead up to their argument. they have such philosophical differences about life, Vash believing every life is precious and that everyone can change, where Wolfwood's convinced that people won't. he thinks Vash is foolish - is naive for not taking the GHG seriously. Wolfwood wants - Wolfwood needs - to know Vash is taking this seriously, is prepared to kill if Vash wants to keep everyone else alive.

Wolfwood needs to know Vash is prepared for the shit Wolfwood knows - or suspects, if he doesn't know off hand - Legato is going to send.

hence this panel.

(yes i did just straight up copy the alt text from the post i made about being unable to cope with this panel. it ruins me.)

And then Vash reads him for fucking filth.

Vash's heart is breaking for Wolfwood, who cannot see a way out of the grave he's dug. Vash doesn't want to kill but he's broken for the way Wolfwood cannot see any other way to survive.

Like. the whole of page 106 hurts, but the way the Overhaul translated these panels is. Oof.

(the Dark Horse translation differs. Vash's speech reads: You... told me back then... that my face looked better with a real smile. If you could see yourself through my eyes now... You'd see a man forcing himself to play the Devil while his own heart cries out.

It's a little more poetic, but both of the statements cut Wolfwood to the core.)

They're talking past one another! they care so much about one another but their love languages differ so hard. (and i don't even mean this in a shipping way tho you could take it that way)

Augh. They're idiots. We'll see later that Wolfwood knows what Vash is, because of his experiences with Knives. (Wolfwood was there when Knives got reborn, after all) and he's seen Vash fight. He just. Doesn't know if Vash can kill one to save the many. (The start of their first fight in Stampede, their first true fight, is because Wolfwood shoots Rollo/Monev the Gale. Vash asks why. Wolfwood says its out of mercy.)

Anyway, there's some other really good meta about this fight (@needle-noggins has a nice breakdown of it) and if/when I find the posts I'll drop links in the comments/reblog with them.

I'll also upload what i could figure out of the transcript when I read through their argument in order to figure out how i was even going to talk about it to google docs and drop the link to that in the comments as well.

If you're still here, idk, Vash read Wolfwood for filth in front of God and everybody, which in this case was an empty town, Rai-Dei's corpse, and Zazie, who's been watching them for who knows how long at this point.

#trigun #trigun maximum #trigunbookclub #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun meta #myde reads trigun #got a little unhinged so i put most of it behind a readmore

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baldurs-gape · 25 days

Note

Hi I absolutely love your fics "Shores" & "Wish'n'bone"! I really like your characterization for both Astarion and Gale in your stories. I've read your past works when I was in the DBH fandom and it's a joy to see you in this fandom as well. I wish you a lovely day and I'm excited for future content!

YOU!!! I remember you from DBH! Oh man, what a blast from the past. It brings me so much joy that we've bumbled into another shared fandom. As you probably know from way back then, I love to reply to asks with a little ficlet of thanks. Think of it like a cat bringing you a leaf and leaving it as a gift on your doorstep.

One Night Only

Gods were cruel without even meaning to be. It wasn't intentional, they were simply unable to comprehend mortal desires and the passage of time. After the crown had been flung into the Chionthar, Gale had regretted it within days. He struggled with living in the Underdark, missed the sun fiercely but his love for Astarion was stronger. It didn't mean that getting used to such a change was easy. He tried, pushed himself and threw himself into his new life with as much vigour as he could. There was so much to study, so many vampire spawn to teach about the modern world. And yet the siren song of natural light still called. He saw it on Astarion too. Felt guilty because while he himself could go out into the sun if he wanted, Astarion did not have such luxury. Which was where the blasted crown came into play.

Locating it, retrieving the pieces and pondering its reassembly was all well and good but it wasn't the reality Gale wanted. Those long, dark days in the Underdark had been enough to help firm up his resolve. He didn't want the power of the crown, didn't want the alienating experience of godhood. As it turned out, Gale was a simple man with simple desires. Taking the crown, he shoved it into a bag and marched to the Stormshore Tabernacle with determination.

The bag landed at the feet of Mystra's statue in a gruff offering.

"I know you're not talking to me. But hear me out."

Nothing happened. Really, Gale shouldn't have been surprised but he was still disappointed. Leaving the bag there, he went back home, guiltily basking in the sunshine for as long as he could. What was unexpected was for Elminster to show up a couple of days after he got back.

"I have never seen anyone vex a deity more than you, Gale," he said by way of greeting. The fact he had literally walked into a nest of vampires didn't seem to bother him. "And the fact you do it with such lack of awareness is even more astounding."

"It's not just deities, Mystra isn't that special." Next to Gale, Astarion had his arms crossed over his chest in an open display of hostility. "I live with the man and if he doesn't vex me twice a day then I start worrying he's been replaced by a shifter."

Playing at being insulted, Gale raised a finger with a practiced "hey now" which was cut off by Elminster.

"I do not wish to get in the middle of a lovers' quarrel. Please remember, I am but a humble messenger of Mystra and have travelled far to see you."

Nose scrunching, Astarion shook his head. "Cheese and wine are in short supply down here. The closest on offer is three day old bulette blood."

Which was to say, Elminster wasn't welcome in their home and he considered Gale's private stash of treats off limits for their sudden guest. Something warm bloomed in Gale's chest at the protective aura Astarion exuded.

"As kind and generous as your offer is, I shall pass." Elminster pulled something from his pocket and passed a paper wrapped package to Gale. "A little extra from her, don't waste it. The orb shouldn't bother you anymore either."

As soon as the delivery was made, Elminster smiled. "It was good to see you. Maybe you'll find happiness this time round."

With that he was off and disappearing into the dark.

"Crusty old cheese fiend," Astarion huffed. "Just who does he think he is, waltzing into our home like that?"

"Mystra's Chosen." Oddly, saying that didn't hurt Gale. He didn't miss what he had, he sometimes missed what he'd thought he'd had. The two were very different thing.

Later, when Gale managed to get a bit of time to himself, he pulled the parcel out. Carefully unwrapping it, he stared at the amulet and the tag attached 'For the one you chose.' It pulsed with power and once upon a time it would have been his biggest wish to feed it to the orb which plagued him. Now, he examined it with suspicion and curiosity.

"What fascinating trinket are you poring over today?" As Astarion spoke, he walked up to Gale and hugged him from behind, hooking his chin over a warm shoulder. As he peered at the amulet, he hummed. "It's pretty."

"Pretty powerful." Gale gave up trying to inspect it for safety before showing it to Astarion, so he grabbed the tag and flipped it. "I don't trust it."

Eager hands grabbed for it, Astarion could never resist anything, especially it if had his name on it. He weighed the amulet and hummed. "Only one way to find out."

Before Gale could do anything as he turned, Astarion put the amulet on. It glowed a rich purple against his chest for a couple of seconds then became inert once more. Nose scrunching, Astarion looked down at himself.

"Well, at least it'll fetch a copper of two at some point."

All the magic was gone and Gale rached to touch the husk of an amulet that remained. As he brushed against it though, so did Astarion's hand. With a gasp, he froze and made to grab the pale hand.

"You-" Words eluded him and Astarion stared at him with amusement and rubbed at his chest absentmindedly. Gale tried again, "Astarion! You're warm!"

Both of his hand enveloped Astarion's newly warm ones. From there it was all too easy to lay a hand over his chest and feel the steady thump of a newly beating heart.

"Huh." Astarion stared at where Gale felt his heartbeat. "I thought something felt off. Assumed it was indigestion from spore infused blood."

A disembodied voice echoed in their heads.

The spell will hold until his next sleep, make the most of it.

A day. That's all they had. Gale wanted to rejoice and rage at the same time. If it was within Mystra's ability to cure Astarion of his affliction, she jolly well could have just done that rather than devise a spell that would remove it for a day. At least Astarion didn't seem to be taking such a dour view for a change.

"Well then, let's not waste it." He offered Gale and arm. "Shall we?"

Stepping out into the warm sunlight was a blessing and Gale almost missed the moment Astarion stepped out of the shadows. Face tipped up into the rays, his eyes fluttered closed and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

It was almost like their adventures all over again. Astarion could walk in the sun, needed no permission to enter an inhabited area. But more than that, he was living, breathing and warm, craved food and drink that had tasted like ash and vinegar for so long. Naturally, the first place Gale led them to was a tavern where he ordered anything Astarion desired. Just watching him eat, eyes closing in bliss as flavours exploded on his tongue was beautiful. As was discovering just what a sweet tooth he had. Pastries, cakes, fruits, they were all eagerly sampled and appreciated. Gale took such pleasure in bringing him new things to try, cost be damned.

"I don't think I can eat another bite," Astarion said, words muffled by a hand over his mouth as he tried not to burp. His other hand rested over his full stomach and he giggled. It was infectious and Gale laughed with him, on the verge of bursting with happiness.

"Let me show you some other delights."

That might have come out more salacious than intended because all Gale had meant was the wonders of ice cream and warming up lips with kisses between spoonfuls. Almost drunk on happiness, Astarion followed and they strolled the streets, hand in hand. As beautiful as the Underdark could be, its colours couldn't compare to the sun lit expanse of the living.

Alas, time couldn't stand still. They only had the day, sitting on a ledge near their return to the Underdark and they watched the sun dip below the horizon. Sighing, Astarion cuddled into Gale with a small shiver. The temperature was dropping now that there was no more sunshine to bathe in.

"Thank you." The words were a rarity to fall from Astarion's lips, to the point that Gale actually startled.

"Whatever for?"

"You must have done something to get me this. Whatever it was, thank you."

"You're not mad that it's just for one day? When it's probably in her power to make it every day?"

Softly, Astarion hummed and shrugged. "At least we got a day. It's more than I could have ever hoped for. Didn't think I'd ever see the sun again and live." A large yawn interrupted anything else Astarion was going to say and he snuggled more comfortably against Gale. They knew the spell was going to wear off when he fell asleep but Gale had hoped it would be a while longer yet. Judging by how Astarion forced himself to sit up, he had remembered too.

At every turn Astarion fought falling asleep. He got up, paced then sat down, tried not to slump, flopped back and stared at the clear sky. Prattling on about the stars, he kept yawning and stubbornly blinking to stay awake. Even when he settled against Gale's chest, he furiously tried to not fall asleep.

"Please don't let me go," he whispered and clutched at Gale's hand, pressing it against his still beating heart. "I don't want to go back."

Kissing his slightly sweaty forehead, Gale wished he could reassure and promise that it was all going to be fine. The best he could do was try and ease the harsh, bitter truth.

"I'll be there with you. I'm not going anywhere, not until you or time demands the breaking of our bond."

"That'll be the day I shall greet the sun again." As far as declarations of love went, that was probably as dramatic and deep as Astarion had ever been. It earned him another kiss which he yawned into.

Tucking him against his body, Gale desperately wanted things to be different. "It's okay. It'll all be okay. You need to rest. I'll watch over you."

"I don't want to."

Truth be told, Gale didn't want it either but it wasn't like they had a choice. Against him, Astarion jerked awake just before he nodded off. It was a futile battle, each desperate grasp at wakefulness was prolonging the inevitable. Gale buried his nose in white curls and clutched at Astarion tighter, palm still against his chest. He could feel the way Astarion went lax, how his heart slowed down, beats further and further apart, more and more faint until it stilled once more. In the cool night air, his body lost its warmth. Only the habitual breaths he tended to take gave sign that he was more than a dead body. Eyes squeezing shut, Gale tried to will away the tears. They had a day together in the sun, it was going to have to be enough for now. But he'd been given a new avenue to explore. One god or another was going to listen to him and give Astarion the freedom he deserved, even if it was the last thing Gale ever did.

#bloodweave #gale x astarion #astarion/gale #astarion #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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itjazzbicch · 8 months

Text

Beneath The Surface

Pairing: Shunsui Kyōraku x Reader

Summary: Considering that the reader has been dealing with an illness, they are not as strong as they once were, desperate to be strong again as the war against Quincy's rage. Becoming hopeless, they begin to find some hope beneath the surface when their best friend lends a small hand with their emotions...

Warnings: The reader is sad, and mentions of death & illness (it's just a hurt/comfort fic) TYBW spoilers if you haven't watched!

Word Count: 0.9k

My heart was breaking with every step when I dragged my cane along the rubble-covered ground. These Quincy's must've gone all out. Meanwhile, I was sick and barely able to walk.

I had never been so disappointed in myself, unable to bear the horrific sights that were now the Seireitei. Dragging myself back to my grounds, I wasn't allowed to due to my illness, but I took my zanpakuto, then went out to the shriveled-up garden where I once trained daily.

Pulling my zanpakuto from its sheath, it looked dull, the memory of the first time I held it in my hands flashing in my mind. How strong I was back then and how that strength led me to be a captain, once upon a time the strongest.

The longer I stared, the more I hated being who I was now. Fragile and weak, a burden rather than a fighting force, considering everything we knew was at stake. Those thoughts made me angry, sick, and shaking as I used all my strength to wield my zanpakuto.

"Talk to me, please," I whispered, trying not to cry, the shaking growing worse, "P-Please."

Nothing.

No matter how badly my body tried to give way on me, I stayed in stance, breathing heavily as I yelled in an attempt to build some motivation:

"I refuse to be so weak! Please! I need you!"

Again, nothing.

Using up my energy, I fell to a knee, the tip of my zanpakuto in the ground and clinging to it as I cried, begging it to talk to me somehow, to make me strong again.

"I'll do anything, just-"

"Y/N flower?"

Shunsui's voice brought me to silence despite the tears rolling down my cheeks, only listening:

"You know that you shouldn't-"

"I can't sit around and tolerate this anymore, Shunsui!"

It was becoming hard to breathe from the tears making my throat close. I knew precisely what Shunsui would tell me, and he should've known how I would react.

"I know that you're dealing with much more than your illness," He sighed, joining me on his knees, a hand on my back, "But we both know that-"

"What? That I'm weak? That I'm useless?" I couldn't look at him, clinging to my once mighty zanpakuto, "It won't even speak to me anymore."

"Stop talking like that," Shunsui was always trying to keep me optimistic, but given the times we were going through, that was impossible.

"It's the truth," I wept, drowning in those negative thoughts, "If I was strong enough, I could've done something. We lost so many, and Old Man Yama-"

The devastating memory of when I learned about Captain Yama's death made me start to sob, collapsing, but Shunsui caught me, holding me to his chest.

He knew that I needed to get this out of my system, only rubbing my back and hugging me as I cried:

"I hate this. Why did I have to get sick?"

"If I could change things, I would," He whispered as my cries settled, "But know, sick or not, you're much stronger than you think."

Finally, growing the courage to look at him and seeing his eyepatch added to that guilt as I was always protective over him. I tried my hardest to take in his words profoundly and believe I was strong like in the past, but it was challenging.

"You've had a lot to deal with since you took charge, Shunsui," I sniffled, cleaning my face, "Don't-"

"Crazy to think that after all the long years we've spent together, this is the first time I'd ever seen you cry," He realized; the thought never occurred to me, and our gazes connected, "I may be head captain now, but you're still my flower too."

His words made tears swell again, an arm wrapping around my head and holding me tight, clinging to his floral robe. Despite what little tears I had left coming down, I finally saw some light in my dark world:

"Flowers aren't just delicate, you know? They're not just beautiful, either. They weather through storms and may lose a pedal or two, but they grow back as beautiful as they were before. They have an unspoken strength."

I stared off into space as I related to his words. It may not be happening as quickly as I'd hoped, but maybe the strength I once possessed was slowly returning to me.

"How many terrifying challenges have we conquered, huh?" He whispered, kissing my cheek, "Remember that you're strong."

"I'll try," I whimpered, watching him place his hat down so he could hug me tighter, our heads together as I whispered, "I love you, Shunsui. Never forget that."

"That's good to know. Thought I'd have to wait another century or two to hear those words," He joked, and it did get a slight chuckle out of me, but seriousness settled in, thankfully the good kind, as he stroked my cheek, "I love you too my beautiful, strong flower."

"I promise from now on," I breathed in deeply, looking towards becoming better rather than drowning in sadness, "Every day till I'm gone, whether if it's this illness or by someone's hands, I'll never give up."

"Finally got some fire in your eyes," He mumbled with a smile, giving me more motivation to keep that promise as he kissed me softly, "I know you won't. You never have."

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inhonoredglory · 10 months

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Hey, I reaaally love all your meta analysis, especially the one on Aziraphale's morality. You truely have a wonderful writing style! And you expressed the feelings I had about the S2 finale I couldn't put into words and had me in tears again. I never really believed in the coffee theory (although a part of me hoped for it since it would be way less painful). But there is one thing I can't wrap my head around. The coffee theory is partly supported by the final scene of Aziraphale in the elevator and his creepy smile. Even when he looks forward to his new position and is convinced he does the right thing, I can't believe he wouldn't smile like that (and Michael Sheen is to talented for it being am accident). He still lost his soulmate Crowley, he still had to give up the life he loved so dearly and we know how much he struggled with that in the first place talking to Metatron. So why this smile, which aside from that, really did not look like him? I fear, that his memories were wiped out in this elevator. But since you have so a great understanding of Aziraphale's character, I would like to know your theories about that? Thanks a lot!!

(In response to my meta on why Aziraphale had to go to Heaven)

Thank you so much for your kind words, @sabotage-on-mercury (truly means the world to me). Honestly, the creepy smile was one part of the ending I couldn't quite put my finger on either, until someone pointed out on a Twitter response to my meta:

The reason why its scary is bc azi is becoming properly angry at the system and is 101% determined to set things right (Source)

In season 1, Aziraphale was determined not to kill anyone to stop the Apocalypse. He wouldn't even tell Crowley where the Antichrist was, because Crowley's only solution was to kill him.

Despite this dedication avoid bloodshed, when God didn't have an answer, Aziraphale went against one of his core beliefs to help save the world. He was willing to murder a child.

For Aziraphale, that takes guts. And (seeing how he reacted at the end of the Job minisode), I wonder that if he had killed Adam Young, Aziraphale would have checked himself into Hell.

Michael Sheen conveying contained anger in both Good Omens and Masters of Sex (gif by @julielilac)

He wanted to do it with Crowley, with the love and support and strength of his demon. But without him, Aziraphale has to channel something else to keep his resolve afloat.

I haven’t done this since the Great War.

(Please read this Neil-approved meta for further thoughts on God and Aziraphale.)

Because I have no doubt that the angel Aziraphale we get in Season 3 is the angel Aziraphale who can say this:

He's not there yet in the TV show. But this bravery, this anger, this flaming rage is how it starts.

Or as he's described in the book when Aziraphale mysteriously does away with the local mafia:

Just because you’re an angel doesn’t mean you have to be a fool.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go s2 #michael sheen #aziraphale #go meta #aziraphale defense squad #aziraphale meta #*mine #*mymeta #why are the gifs acting up nauur

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