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sleekista · 2 months

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but i didn't did pour the whiskey

barça femeni x reader

overview: they said getting over addiction wasn't easy, what about when no one knows? what about when relapse happens after a whole year?

A/N: my requests are sitting... but I can't get to them and im really sorry, ive been so busy atm and dont got much modivation for em'

TW: alcohol addiction, self-hatred, relapse, course language, actual detail instead of me brushing over it

!! viewer discretion is advised, i suggest only mature audiences read this !!

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In all honesty, you'd seen the signs. You'd known the inevitable was coming. The feelings of urge that you'd felt a year ago when trying to stop. You had stopped though, so you ignored it. Then it became more real. To the blank stares at the crates in the stores, rather than the hatred you harboured before after finally being ‘better’.

To walking and judging if you should buy it or not.

To blinking tears out of your eyes, wondering why you'd think that in the first place.

Because why would you, you were better now. Right? That's what you'd told yourself anyways.

It kept amplifying over the course of a week. Until you couldn't take it, until everything you'd worked so hard for for the past year came crashing down. All those memories of countless nights pacing, crying, yelling over a stupid fucking substance fade away.

Guilt. That's all there is. Guilt.

Guilt for betraying your past self who had cried for hours, who felt like she was going psycho over not having a single drink.

But, you can't find it in yourself to stop drinking it. It's just one beer, how harmful could it be? Said by the words of a true fucking alcoholic.

So, you do the only thing you can think of and cry. Cry until your face is numb, your throat burning with every breath, cry until your lungs can't take in any oxygen anymore.

Cry until you feel like you've felt something.

Then when you did stop crying what did you do? The only option you thought you had. Drink more.

- - - - -

You knew you looked like shit, you felt like it too. Your face puffy from the numerous breakdowns the night before, your eyes red from the tears that had an endless flow, dark rings under your eyes from the restless 3 hour sleep you'd got.

Also not to mention the headache you'd acquired. Knowing that only last year if you'd drunk this much, you'd only start to feel something. That's not something to be proud of.

You try your hardest to make yourself look even the slightest bit presentable, getting rid of the puffy face with a shower and taking paracetamol to take away the ache in your skull.

This would do enough to convince them you were fine, it's not like you were the loudest or most obnoxious person on the team. Preferring to observe everything with a smile.

What you didn't consider? Your captains. You're only 22 so even if you're techincally an adult, they're still over 7 years older than you.

So you walk into the lockeroom for training, silently making your way to your cubby as usual. Until, you feel a tug on your sleeve. Alexia is standing there, worry etched into her features.

"You ok? It looks like you've barely slept." Her voice is low and quiet, something you were eternally grateful for.

"Yeah, just a rough night. Thanks capi." You don't lie, but you don't tell the full truth either. She can sense this but doesn't say anymore, allowing you to go back to getting ready.

You take the time to rethink of the previous night, the regret you'd felt immediately after taking the first sip. But, the feeling of being unable to stop.

No matter how much you'd told yourself it was nothing, you know this isn't the end.

You push the thoughts away, clearing your mind of any thoughts before walking out onto the field ready for training.

- - - - -

It was the same people you saw watching you; Alexia, Marta and Mapi. It wasn't every second but enough to showcase they knew something was wrong but just didn't know what.

You had joined in the summer from your old club in Italy. No one knew of the past you'd had with alcohol. It's not like you made an effort to tell them either, they respected your choices not to drink when going out and you didn't need to bring up topics that were from before even moving to Barcelona.

Maybe if they knew, you'd have someone to confide it.

Somehow you'd managed to hide it from your old team as well, but considering the close relationships that Barcelona had with each other you doubted it would be shrugged off as easily.

When training was finally over, you were quick to slip away. As the thoughts and need of what caused you in this melancholic state start to reappear in your mind.

Not now, why after so long did you have to collapse now? When the peak of your career could potentially be around the corner.

You want to survive like a normal person, you want to be able to do things without relying on a fucked up liquid. Why did it have to be you?

And why?

Why is the only thing you can think of to soothe these thoughts, alcohol?

- - - - -

You stare blankly at the open carton, hesitation as you ponder if you should give in or not. Should you drink it? Part of your mind says yes, part of you yearns for it. The rational side says no, and to stop before it's too late.

But wasn't it already?

So you give in. The burning down your throat a painfully familar comfortality.

In a depressing way it makes you more aware of your surroundings, the beer bottles scattered in the room. Liquid all over the floor and on your things. It bothers you, but you can't bring yourself to clean it.

So you sulk, going over past memories. You'd never considered yourself a sad drunk, always being happier and finding a way to goof about while drinking. Then, very rarely toward the end of recovery getting angry. Never sad though.

Times change, people change. You thought you'd changed, but that kind of addiction? It never seemed to leave. Waiting until you're vulnerable to attack. Like an incurable disease.

Before you really comprehend it, the whole box of beers you'd bought yesterday are empty and strown across the floor.

You reach a point of feeling nothing, a numbing feeling brought by guilt, the alcohol making everything seem hazy. Your phone is ringing, but you can't bring yourself to answer. You can't bring yourself to care.

- - - - -

Knocking at your door brings you out of the limboed state you're in. You figure they'll leave soon, and the knocking stops after a minute. Until the door opens revealing the three who had been watching you in the morning.

Alexia is the first to you, the others take in the state of your apartment and walk around elsewhere.

"Hey." It's all she says, but enough for tears to fall from your eyes. You can't bare to look at her face, so you keep your eyes glued to the floor.

"Come on, look at me." She uses her hands to guide your chin so you're looking straight at her.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." She pauses, "Let's sober you up first." You don't argue, and follow her orders. Exhausted, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

- - - - -

Waking up was easier than you'd thought it would be, your head not pounding as much as in the morning. It made sense though considering you'd drank less than the night before. There were pills on the side table with a glass of water which you take easily.

The sun is setting so you must have slept for a couple of hours by this point. When you walk into the living room you notice all the rubbish gone, the floors are clean and there's no reminisince of beer anywhere. Alexia, Marta and Mapi are talking quietly amongst themselves and look up once they realise you're awake.

"Come, sit." Mapi pats next to her. You nod silently walking over.

"Would you mind explaining to us what happened? I know you’ve said before don't drink, so this is very new. If you don't want to talk that's also fine but I don't want to see you hurt." Alexia says, she doesn't pry but she does make her point known.

"Ok, but please can you do no talking while I explain? I'm not sure how much I can take if I don't explain it all in one." You're not sure why you opened up so easily, maybe because you desperately craved for someone. Anyone.

"Last year, I was an alcoholic and I can't tell you really when it started. It was to take all the weight and pressure off my shoulders originally, but it turned worse. I just kept drinking regularly and when I tried to settledown, I realised I couldn't. So I didn't stop. It worked for me."

"Then as the season moved on I realised I did desperately need to do something about it but I was just so scared of what people would say to me. How would they react?"

“So instead of getting proper help I did it myself.”

"I got rid of all traces, didn't go out as much. It was horrible. I thought I was going crazy. I wasn't ok at all. I'd obviously relapsed a couple times when trying by myself to recover but it gave me more determination. I'd say it took like 3 months before I truly felt like I was clean."

"Then, I'd had the oppurtunity to play here and it's like everything went away. I should've known better." You sigh.

"Known what? Did you know you were going to relapse again?" Marta asks carefully.

"I saw the signs but ignored them, when I did give in... all I felt was regret, I still do. I think that's why I drank the rest if I'm going to be honest." You look away, not daring to look at any of them.

A pair of arms engulf you, large hands pushing your head to the persons chest.

"Listen to me, we can help you. You won't ever have to do this alone, not while I'm here ok? I don't know much about this, but I'll try. We all will." You start sobbing into her chest, clinging your fists tightly into her shirt. A way to thank them without words.

Because the belief they had in you made you feel like you could do it. Even in these drowning times.

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i hope you enjoyed fic, this may not be accurate to everyone but this is my experience with battling addiction to alcohol and i write it because i too relapsed after a year recently

this was more for also for awareness and just know that you aren’t alone in anything, if you feel you need someone to talk to i’m always here :)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader

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charlotteking23 · 6 months

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He’s not that bad

Eric Divergent x reader

warning: none

word count: 927

It was late at night, and I could not sleep at all. Only listening to the loud snores and shuffling of the wind outside. Tomorrow was our final fight and rankings for the first stage and I was praying I would make it. After a while, I quietly snuck out and walked around the halls, it was dark, with no light, no sound only the waves crashing near the chasm. Finally, I stopped walking near the training room, I walked in front of the punching bag, punching it as hard as I could, the bag only moving a little. Until I found a warm breath hitting my neck.

"You're doing it wrong" I turned around and was met with cold ocean-blue eyes. Are you stalking me now Coulter? but I got no reply only a burning death stare basically asking me, do I have a death wish. " No, I was walking and found you here in the training room, so why are you in the training room so late at night?" an amusing Eric asks. Well if it was not obvious, I was practicing for my fight tomorrow. After a few seconds, I feel Eric's hands on my body. "you need to create tension in your core because of the size differences between you and the others". I don't know why but all I could think about was his smooth hands touching my body. But after a second he disappeared and left the training room with me wondering what had happened. I punched the bag again causing it to sway much faster. After practicing for a few hours, I decided to head back before anybody saw me.

"WAKEEEE UPPPPP!", screamed four. He was Banging the side of the wall with a pipe. I woke up startled, remembering today was our final fight and what had happened yesterday with Eric. " hey are you ok". "Huh,... oh hey Tris, yeah, I am alright." "OK, you just seemed spaced out lately". Don't worry I am fine. and she left to shower. ' "OK, you just seemed spaced out lately". Don't worry I am fine. and she left to shower.

I was sitting between Christina and Tris, anxiously waiting, biting my nails. Which I know is a bad habit. In my final fight, I was against Drew, which is better than going against Peter. Eric had called me and Drew to ring, Drew had a smug smile on his face, Oh how I wanted to wipe it off his face so badly. Drew tried to hit me first but I was fast enough to duck, an advantage to me being small. We were fighting for god knows how long, both of us not giving up. He hit me in my face causing blood to come but maybe as a defense or for pleasure I hit where the sun didn't shine, he won't be making any babies Damn. I Won my fight Man did it feel good. And Eric even gave me a smile well if you called that a smile but nonetheless a smile.

Right, the final ranking will be posted at the end of dinner, you can leave now, Four said rather eagerly. But I didn't care, I was starving for some chocolate cake.

It was the end of the dinner and I had a good feeling I would at least be in the top 15. I looked on top of the balcony where the rankings would be announced but instead, I found dark blue eyes looking at me, Eric, I whispered to myself. I stood there not breaking eye contact with him until he started to talk.

It is the end of stage one, here are your rankings, if you are not placed in the top 20 then pack your things and leave Dauntless compound. Damn, how can Eric say that with no emotion at all but no matter? I see my name sitting at 9 place which was better than I hope. I left leaving Christina with Will and Tris who already left. I was walking deep in thought happy I made it this far till I bumped into a certain someone, ERIC.

Fuck, Fuck, I am so dead if anyone notices I am missing you will probably find me in the bottom of the chasm by Eric. But instead, he just grunted and mumbled something under his breath, which I couldn't understand. "Initiate, and watch where you are going," with harshness Eric said. "It's your fault, you bumped into me first and I think you owe me an apology", with confidence I replied. "Alright," ALRIGHT that's all he answered, I was praying he wouldn't hurt because of my big mouth but he just replied so plainly. I almost thought for a second he was getting a cold.

it was the initiate's party for completing stage one. I don't know why, but I kept looking for a blue-eyed leader until I saw him. I ignored him pretending as if I did not see him.

Instead, I danced to the music swaying my hips around while dancing I felt a pair of strong hands wrap tightly around my waist, guiding me to dance more. I turn around seeing Eric as I wrap my arms around his neck. We continued dancing with each other no matter how many strange looks we got.

As Eric and I walked out of the party, I realized he was not as bad as we spent the rest of the night together.

#eric coulter x reader #eric coulter fanfiction #eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter imagines #divergent #dauntless #eric divergent #eric coulter oneshots

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fruit-sy · 7 days

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My personal thoughts on the major themes of Penacony 2.2

I was gonna make an entire Penacony retrospective and try to really dig into the whole story, but 1. I'm not that smart and 2. It has hours of footage and I don't think I'm strong enough to parse through that and form my own conclusions

so, just the things that really jumped at me and made me pause to think. I may do surface level research to make sure if a character really said this or that, but other than that, these are my thoughts fresh after finishing the quest.

Ok, to start off: Sunday and the road to hell

He's... god, he's such a complicated and interesting little man.

He is what I would call the embodiment of the saying "the road to hell is paved with good intentions". On the surface, he is trying to make a universe which is authoritarian-like. If you peel it back a bit more, he intends to make the universe a better place. But at the heart of it, I think he's just someone who is scared of pain.

There are 3 sequences I want to break down:

The Robin-Sunday exchanges before they meet Gopher Wood

This exchange has a lot of Sunday misdirecting Robin's points, but she calls out most of it.

Robin starts off with observing the dreamscape and concludes that dreamchasers shouldn't use penacony as a means of escaping entirely from reality. Because they won't overcome their demons. She asks if this can really count as "living"

Sunday at first seems to agree that things are not the way it should be. But there's a bit of misdirection on his part. He responded to robin's question by connecting "people using penacony as an escape" with (his opinion on) the way people currently "live" (which is what he was agreeing to in "things are not the way it should be"). He will then frame the narrative to show that people completely escaping through dreams is a good thing, and then will swerve to say how the "strong" should determine the future of the "weak".

Robin understandably does not agree with Sunday's narrative, because she believes that by staying in the dream (or MAKING dreamchasers stay in the dream), it will lock dreamchasers in stasis forever, making them unable to choose how to go about their future and overcome their difficulties. She then criticizes that no one has the right to determine whether a human deserves to live for a future or not.

There's a clear difference in ideology here. Sunday's devotion to Order is so strong because the experiences in his life had led him to believe that forcing his will on other people is the way to go. His ideology is rigid, cold, impersonal and is applied to all uniformly.

Robin firmly believes in choice and refuses to let an authority govern the way people should live. She wishes to unite people through her singing, and to inspire people to live. Her ideology is more personal, uniquely applied, and is idealistic and romantic.

2. The quiz sequence

An interesting thing about this sequence is the first two questions have quite reasonable answers. At the start of it, at least.

The first question is about nurturing and letting go. I think why most of the girls agreed to put the bird in a cage is because to do something great, you must first be equipped to survive. Maslow's bottom hierarchy, if you will. i think Sunday realizes this too, and puts it into some of his points to justify making decisions on behalf of other people.

"We must teach the weak how to live a happy life"

Though, the problem is that he twists this point so much and wants to force this on everyone. This is seen when he puts everyone on Penacony in Ena's dream. This disregard for other people's input kinda reflects how he sees the bird, in a way. The bird is something below Sunday, it cannot object his actions because it is merely just a weak, injured little thing.

It is here that he experienced pain of futility. The pain of putting in effort into something but have it crash and burn in the end no matter what. Afraid of that pain, he wonders if birds are meant for the sky if some fall before they can reach it. He has a very black and white mindset about this.

Either all birds fly and deserve the sky, or if even one bird falls then no birds deserve the sky.

The second question is about a person who is being pursued by the bloodhounds. Sunday is in a position of power, and has the influence to pardon the man. As a result, the man got away, forgot about his children, and hurt the people working under him in penacony.

Though, it's worth to mention that I think it's also partly the fault of the Oak family, who didn't try to discourage dreamchasers trying to find answers or solve their personal problems in Penacony. But I believe that's intentional.

Anyways, the crux of the question, if Sunday had known the outcome of his decision from the start and he had the foresight to think that Penacony isn't a place to search for answers, I actually think upholding the law would be the best course of action here.

I think this is where he developped his fear of... consequence. Because humanity has free will, they may use his pardon from the law to do awful things. This might be why he values upholding the law so much.

Another thing to note, I think Sunday hasn't gone off too far into the deep end at this point of his life. In a previous sequence with the same scenario, he actually questions what devotion to the Order would be like, and his doubts on its way of life.

"Who can judge the strong when their power hides their crimes?"

"Who can vouch for the weak when they will pay any price to survive?"

"Who can comfort the purest souls when even they get led astray?"

It's important to note that Sunday is in a position of power and emphasizes knowing the outcome of the first two questions.

The third question is the only question where he and the other party were of near equal standing. It's where he still hasn't made a decision, and which the outcome has not yet been decided.

Sunday cares about Robin's input and feelings. He cares so much he doesn't have it in him to force her to stay for the Order.

I think this is the crack in his belief of the Order. Because he cannot stop her from trying to fly. Because he cannot apply his law indiscriminately. Because it's Robin. His sister.

He has not made a choice, and Robin has not met her end yet like he's feared.

But he's so afraid of the pain of losing her. He's so afraid it haunts him in his nightmares.

After presenting the quiz, he essentially asks the main question of penacony: "Why does life slumber?"

He answers, "Because we are afraid to awaken from our dreams."

Interestingly, this is identical to Firefly's conclusion in 2.0. The difference is, Sunday thinks his answer is universal and will force his solution on everyone, while Firefly's is just her own personal answer.

Firefly asks what the price for Sunday's paradise is, and that made me stand up and point at the screen in agreement. Because what Sunday's aiming for is an authoritarian universe.

When an authority reigns supreme that it forces its will onto unwilling citizens, all in the name of the ideal society. That's a dystopia.

As Sunday said before, who will keep the authority in check? Who can ensure that the authority will not abuse their power?

That's what's so dangerous about an authoritarian government. You can't take the risk when it comes to this. You can't just give the power to one person, no matter how righteous or nice they seem. Because like the saying goes, give them an inch and they will take a mile. You cannot afford to cross the line, because when you do, who knows how far they'll take it.

Sunday clearly sees Firefly as someone weak, kind of akin to the bird in his childhood who needs his "saving". But Firefly does not appreciate someone deciding on her behalf whether she's weak or needs saving.

3. Ode to Order

I think it's important to note Sunday really frames Ode to Order in this angelic and holy way. Hell, the music even reflects this with a more bright and heavenly choir.

"Requiem aeternam" is a prayer for souls to reach heaven, eternal rest.

(A bit of a tangent, but when I saw this in the game I SHIVERED so hard. This is such creative story telling aughh- Like, using previously established game mechanics and twisting them to become something horrifying is SO COOL. What a delightfully terrifying way to illustrate what Sunday aims to achieve.)

This illustrates Sunday's paradise as a place where everyone is forcefully "tuned" to become a certain way forever. To be manipulated with Ena's strings without their consent like puppets into a picture perfect scene.

Though, I was confused why Sunday framed this ideal society as people abandoning the need for an authority, when it was something he was pushing so hard in previous sequences.

But my interpretation is that he will spread this message, of everyone being of equal standing, but leave himself as the true leader that will stay awake to ensure everyone else is blissfully asleep.

This really ties everything together for me. Sunday is someone so self righteous but self sacrificial that he's willing to put himself high in the sky, and be aware that he will be completely alone up there.

He is afraid of pain, and will do everything to avoid experiencing it ever again.

After experiencing pain, we shouldn't be scared of it. Sure, we can escape a bit to get some reprieve, but we must tend to our wounds so that we may not only survive, but live.

That brings me to the second major theme of Penacony : Nihility, and the feeling of futility

I will be breaking down Acheron's character first.

Self annihilators/Nihility emanators are so interesting, they are beings that slowly are losing themselves thanks to their own powers of Nihility. A predetermined end.

Living for so long + Nihility actively chipping away at her being is sure to make her memories blend in together. This is why Acheron values emotions so much, because it is one of the only anchors she can use to avoid succumbing to Nihility.

Her flashbacks with Tiernan are beautifully melancholic. Their exchange starts with Acheron pondering if the task Tiernan is doing is pointless, and if he should even bother? And if the end is expected, then should they change it? It's a bit muddy, but I interpret that here, Acheron is still searching for the meaning of Nihility, and Tiernan is the person who guides the souls to the other side of the river at that time.

In the next scene, Acheron states she's holding on to whatever she can to avoid succumbing to Nihility. She had journeyed with a Nameless girl once, who wanted to explore IX. But as expected, the girl ceased to be, but left with a smile. Acheron is scared of forgetting her memories with that girl.

The only other anchor she knows is of her promise to bring more warmth to other people, to a more hopeful future where she will cut off Nihility. She associates that promise and hope with the color of red.

The next scene mirrors the first scene. I interpret it as Acheron having found the meaning of Nihility, sorta embracing it, and is now guiding others to advance towards and depart the Nihility, with Tiernan having forgotten himself.

When Tiernan asks if what Acheron does is pointless, she gave the same answer Tiernan gave her, because some things have to be done. And she's come this far without needing a point, so why should she search for one?

"May death be the end of your boundless dream... guiding you back to the waking world."

I still cannot decipher the meaning of this statement completely. As far as I know, it's said 2 times. The first is after Firefly "died", and the second is in the above exchange with Tiernan.

In Firefly's case, perhaps the "death" refers to waking up from Ena's dream at the beginning, "boundless dream" is Ena's dream, and "the waking world" is Dreamflux Reef/reality.

In Tiernan's case, I can assume the "boundless dream" is his eternal unrest, as he's still lingering in the dead sea, not yet ready to enter the abyss of Nihility. The "death" may be referring to him entering the abyss, while the "waking world" is existence, as he finds his way out of Nihility.

To bring this all together, I think Acheron in this case represents and goes against Nihility. She presents Nihility as something inevitable and predetermined (death), something that awaits everyone, and something that everyone will have to embrace at some point of their lifespan (boundless dream).

But she also believes that one shouldn't wholeheartedly embrace Nihility. in the face of Nihility, we must do everything to take in the world around us and remember what makes us exist. She believes there is a way out of Nihility, and that is existence. (waking world)

In the face of futility, if everything really did have a predetermined end, I believe we should still try to make choices. Despite it being "pointless", I think that's what gives meaning to our existence. Otherwise, we risk succumbing to Nihility.

That's why when the trailblazer finally uttered their own choices, I felt shivers. One, because this shows the development of TB's character, and two because TB will do what they have to, they will never be content living in a dream, and they choose to continue in the face of "futility", despite the ending of their journey being predetermined.

In the face of futility, Sunday chooses to eliminate pain and choice out of the equation, only choosing to create a universe that's stuck in a mindless, blissful stasis. Because he is anticipating pain.

But sometimes, the anticipation is worse than the actual pain itself. He is also eliminating the element of choice, with the assumption that people will not be able to survive when they are facing futility.

But, Acheron's words really struck me.

In the face of futility, pain, and pressure humans may freeze in fear. But that innate survival instinct in humans might push them to fight and claw themselves out to save themselves. By removing the choice to fight for their lives, they won't have the choice to fight off Nihility.

To end this, I would like to go back to main question of Penacony

"Why does life slumber?"

And I think TB answers this beautifully.

"Because we will wake from our dreams."

Life slumbers to find reprieve from the harsh reality. But slumbering does not give us the solution to our problems, only recharging us to prepare for the waking world once more. And in the waking world, even if what we do is futile, we still have a choice in how we want to reach for the end.

#Fruit talks #Holy shit this is probably tangent-y and disorganized as hell but here's my insane ramblings for the month #Idk if this made sense but these are the things that made me feel strongly in 2.2 #I may have missed some points but feel free to shout at me in the comments or reblogs

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misstycloud · 7 months

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Yandere Riddle, Clark, Sano Yamada, Omega with a reader who loves them more than life itself always being affectionate and smothering them with love and getting all gooey when she's around them, always complimenting them when anyone asks about them and saying that one day will marry them.

Riddle

He would be so happy all the time. If a meteorite crashed on earth on burned down an entire city, it’s no problem for riddle. He’s just happy his wife loves him so much! Riddle would defiantly show his love back whenever he could, which is like always. He’d take out the trash, cook(even when it doesn’t turn out so well) and do the laundry. Readers affection is like a drug to him. Setting him off on a hundred things and keeping his mood up constantly. Almost nothing could make him mad. All his thought are filled with reader and he’d giggle at the though of her adoration. Pride would also come forward within him. Riddle would look at others in the grocery store and think ‘ha! What losers, they wish they could have someone as wonderful and beautiful as my wife. But that’s it, she’s mine! And I’m her husband!’ Reader would have to be careful so the compliments don’t go to his head. Riddle is the kind of person that would think he’s immortal if his wife told him he was. ‘Haha, I’m indestructible!’

Sano

Sano would be over the moon if reader loved him that much. Being someone who’s not considered ‘the same level’ as reader made thing harder for him. If he could be popular, he would. But no one seemed to like him no matter what he did. He was always polite, and helped people when he could, so why did no one like him? This did nothing to his confidence. Having more of a loner personality would make him shy to his darlings affections. Eventually though, as time goes by, Sano would come out of his shell and openly accept his love’s touches more. At first, giving him compliments woudnt seem like a bright idea since he’d refuse them and say they’re not true. But if you continue to build his confidence he’ll gladly accept flattery. If reader started saying she’ll marry him and such, he’d be very susceptible to those ideas. After graduation of course! Despite how much he loves you and being a yandere, Sano is actually agaisnt getting married early. He has seen many shows and heard stories of people getting married young and ended badly. He didn’t want that to happen to his relationship. So he’d be content in just simply being together for a couple years until you’re both mature and ready to take the next step.

Clark

This teddy bear wouldn’t be able to handle all the affection. You really want to be his mate? Really!? He knew having a human mate would most likely make things a little more difficult, so he never imagined it going this smoothly. It was such a relief that you weren’t scared of him like others were, instead you accepted and loved him for him. Gosh he was so happy he could die! Now you two could start a life together and live in the domestic bliss he always longed for. Hybrids don’t have marriage in the same sense as humans do. Yes, there is ‘mating’ itself, and it is basically marrige to them. But it’s more of a ‘I found you and really love you so let’s keep on living together forever!’.

So there’s no actual ritual you go through. However, since hybrids are now allowed to be with their human counterparts legally and in the open, they have begun taking part in the so-called ‘human-traditions’ for the sake of their mates. All in the order to make them happy. While a paper and a piece of metal around their finger might not be significant to the hybrids, they’d gladly go through with it for their mate. And that stays the same with Clark, he would do anything for you! That’s why when you started rambling about wishing to get married, the giant was about to instantly rush down to the courthouse and get your licence, carrying you in his arms.

Omega

Haha… it had worked. It had WORKED!! Now you were finally his, and only his. He wouldn’t share your other any other lowlife omega that didn’t possess even a quarter of his looks. And all that wealth you had, that was his as well. Not that he wanted to be with you soley because of your money, no, he did love you. The money was just a bonus. And if you happened to go bankrupt, he’d stay with you anyways. He would even sell his stuff to help you out. But, there’s no harm in treating yourself, right? The omega didn’t grow up with the best conditions so it was nice to get to actually have some things now.

And he’d absolutely float in the affection you give. The omega would play shy and pretend he didn’t enjoy your blatant flirting. (Secret; he does)

Of corse he’ll marry you! Why wouldn’t he? It would be a fabulous wedding there no doubt about it. All his former coworkers would be invited to gawk at all the beautiful things they’d never acquire. Oh yes, your former fiancée could come if they want. That would make the whole thing all the more satisfying. They can cry and beg as much as they desire, but you were his and he belonged to you. Heartbreak is sad, isn’t it?

#oc #male yandere #obsessed #yandere oc #possesive #toxic #misstycloud oc #Sano Yamada #bear hybrid clark #Riddle Levin #Yandere omega #missycloud answers

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acciokaidanalenko · 4 months

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Don’t Leave Me Behind

They’d almost made it. Together. Just like she had promised. But, once again, things hadn’t gone according to plan. Kaidan felt a knot tightening in his chest as Natasha’s gloved hand landed against his cheek. Her piercing, bright blue eyes met his gaze before she quickly studied his face. He felt the contusions and cuts, but they didn’t matter. He had medigel. He could still make it.

“Look at me, Kay. How bad is it?” she asked as she met his gaze again. Her finger brushed against the small cut on his forehead, smearing the blood from the wound. Garrus watched over them, his head on a swivel as he made sure they were safe in this vulnerable moment. Kaidan looked up at Natasha as she knelt beside him and nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Nat. We can do this. Just let me slap some medigel on it,” he answered through labored breaths. Several broken ribs wouldn’t stop him from finishing this mission. His hand moved to activate the automatic dispenser on his omni-tool. He couldn’t stop the wince that fell from his lips at the movement.

Natasha’s hand moved up to her ear as she activated her comms.

“Normandy, do you copy? I need an evac right now!”

Her tone was urgent and demanding, and he could sense the panic she felt as her eyes swept over his body, taking stock of his current condition. His armor had mostly done its job, but there’s only so much it could do to protect him from a mako exploding beside him. He quickly glanced toward the Turian on his left, noticing the scorch marks on his armor and wondered how bad he must look in comparison.

The knot in his chest tightened at her words, and all he could think about was the promise they’d made to one another the night before. This isn’t how this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to make it to the beam with her. They were supposed to make it to the end.

Together.

The sound of an engine drowned out everything else as the Normandy landed a short distance away, and Kaidan was hefted to his feet by Natasha and Garrus. They quickly led him toward the ship that would take him away from here. Away from her.

Kaidan’s heart began to race as the door to the docking bay opened to let them in.

No. She can’t go alone. She was alone over Alchera. She can’t be alone for this.

“Natasha, no!” he yelled as she started to move away, the space between them suddenly more painful than the broken ribs in his chest. Garrus was the one mostly supporting his weight now, and he kept his hold on the soldier as Natasha turned to face him.

“Kaidan, you have to go. You’re injured and I need you to be safe,” she answered as she stepped closer to him again. “If there’s one thing that will keep me going, it’s knowing that you’re okay.”

“Please, Nat, I can’t do it again.” Kaidan’s expression was pleading as he reached toward her. “You made me leave you behind over Alchera. Don’t leave me behind.” She hesitated for a moment, but then she stepped forward, falling back into his orbit. He found it easier to breathe again.

“I love you, Kay. Always,” she said as she reached up to cradle her hand against his cheek. Her tone had changed, softened, as she attempted to comfort him. “You have to let me do this. One last push, and then it’s over. We can finally rest.” It did nothing to assuage the tidal wave of guilt crashing over him. It felt too much like the Collector attack three years ago. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he let her go, he’d never see her again.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He reached up and gripped her hand in his, squeezing it lightly before she pulled away.

They’re running out of time.

Vega suddenly appeared, attempting to help them get Kaidan aboard quickly so Natasha could return to the mission objective. He’s wearing his armor. And perfectly healthy.

Kaidan’s fingers roughly gripped the collar of Vega’s armor, pulling him close as London burned around them.

“You have to go with her, Vega,” Kaidan ordered. His tone was dark, and Vega stared at him for a moment as if processing what he’d said.

“Aye, aye, Major,” he finally agreed as he quickly glanced toward Natasha. She’d backed away from Kaidan slowly, watching them from a short distance.

“She survives this, or I’m holding you personally responsible, Vega. Do you understand me?” Kaidan’s tone was dark, and Vega nodded his head in answer.

Kaidan’s gaze wandered past the lieutenant, to where Natasha stood, waiting. They’ve already said their goodbyes, but he refused for this to be the end. She insisted this time. Last time she’d sent him away he’d watched her vitals fall as she’d spun over Alchera. So many things had been left unsaid, unfinished.

Not this time.

“Do whatever it takes. Just make sure she doesn’t try to do anything too… heroic.” His tone had softened as he looked into Vega’s eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry, L2. I’ll have her back to you in no time,” Vega answered, trying to reassure not just Kaidan, but also himself. They both knew that Natasha was willing to do whatever it took to end this. No matter the cost.

Kaidan swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing that last time he’d lost more than her. The same would happen today if she didn’t make it. The finale of the Reaper War was happening, and all he could do now was wait for its conclusion.

Losing her once was hard enough. He’d been a shell of himself, his world darkened without her presence. It would be even worse a second time.

“Come on, James! We have to get to the beam!” Natasha yelled over the chaos surrounding them.

Vega reached up, his hand gripping Kaidan’s which still clung to his collar. “Kaidan, trust me.”

“Just bring her back to me.”

#processing my own grief #just a rough draft #Kaidan is my comfort character #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #mass effect #commander natasha shepard #me3 #shenko #super canon compliant even though this isn’t how it’ll go in my long fic #britt writes

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anartisticdreamer0 · 2 months

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on the note of the energy and mission of the server and not what actually happened in practice, i want to talk about the positives of the qsmp. the positives of mission and intentions.

i haven’t really felt as close to or as proud of the hispanic culture i was raised with or the language i was forced to learn as i was when the qsmp started.

one year ago today i made this post. now technically it wasn’t the first qsmp related post but uh it was about someone who i no longer respect. but it made me so happy to be able to speak the (at the time only two) languages of the server. i was sooo nervous to be writing in Spanish especially because of how unsure i was of myself then.

and then not too long ago, i participated in language day, where we all spoke in not a language that wasn’t English, and i was decently more confident in speaking my second language then than i was a year ago. not only that, but the support we all showed each other, and the support spanish-speakers showed me when i mentioned how nervous i was.

we have something good running here. q’s dream of uniting multiple groups of different cultures and communities, has come a reality. whether the server crashes and burns or not. we here qsmpblr have really united in a lot of ways and i saw so many new and different languages on language day which made me so happy. and among the streamers, they are all friends, are excited to see each other and help each other out. the admins, despite all the horrible things they’ve been through, met some of their closest friends through this project and that’s beautiful, like Shade and Lumi would have never met each other if it wasn’t for the server and i just think it’s beautiful that they did.

love what the server was able to bring, even with all the horrible things that’s happened, it was also able to bring people together. so thank you qsmp, for the wonderful experience and cultural experience that you were. no matter the faults.

and the biggest thank yous to all the qsmp admins. lumi, shade, arte, pancks, ryan, léa, and everyone else who i don’t know by name, thank you so much for the life you all brought to the server. thank you for putting every minute and hour into the project and make content that really brought us so much joy. you all are so wonderful, i hope you all get to live your best lives and i hope the next chapters are more prosperous than the last.

#qsmp #qsmp admins #congrats on making it to 1 year #on the pure bare bone threads! but we made it!#like the tire crossed the finishing line without the rest of the car #but like it got there!

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rosalyneslover · 1 year

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IS YOUR BEDROOM CEILING BORED?

character: kaedehara kazuha

desc: kazuha hides his feelings well within the confines of his bedroom.

content: gn!reader, slight fluff, slight angst, modern!au

wc: 552

song inspo: is your bedroom ceiling bored? - sody ft. cavetown

Kazuha wonders what you're doing at this time of night.

He's always been wondering about your well-being these past few weeks and he only just found out why. He has never had crushes in the past, thinking that such things didn't matter at all. They're just crushes, these feelings will leave eventually. But he learns that they tend to be a little overwhelming to the point that you just couldn't ignore them anymore.

Tomo had told him about his own crushes, but he couldn't relate. When does he start to feel his heart thumping a little faster? When does his stare become too long to not be called anything but 'admiring'? When does he start to do things for you even if he wasn't asked to? Or… how does his smile soften when he looks at you?

You answered all his burning questions.

When you're around, he could feel his heart racing. He knows he's staring for a little too long but you're far too captivating for him to look away. He notices the way you look at a question when you don't understand it, so he explains it for you. He could feel his smile widening when he looks at you, laughing at something he said.

He could feel himself catching feelings.

The vibrating of his phone on the nightstand interrupts his messy thoughts. He sits up in his bed then smiles when he sees your name at the top of his notifications. He doesn't care why you texted him. He only cares that you made a move to interact with him.

Everyday and every night, you two would talk about almost anything. Even in study sessions in the library where Miss Lisa has to hush you two down because one of you said something funny or in the middle of class where you would hide your smiles behind your notebooks while Ms. Yae is teaching at the front. God knows what she'd do if she caught you two having fun in her class.

But those were just the happy moments Kazuha would reminisce about. He wished he could go back to those moments when he doesn't have to think about his growing attachment to you. His… feelings for you.

Days, maybe weeks—he has written numerous letters containing his admiration for you but all of them are safely hidden away under his bed. He spent so many hours on those pieces of paper. He put so much of his time to the things he wasn't able to be proud of. All because he was scared.

Is it worth it? Does he want to risk breaking your friendship in order to call yourselves 'more than friends'? If you do get together, there's no guarantee that you two will last. What if it all comes crashing down and he's not given enough time to build back what you two had? Is he enough for you?

These are the questions he asks his bedroom ceiling as he tries to catch some sleep. He has a big day tomorrow with an early study session with you in the library. He wouldn't want to fall asleep in your company but maybe that will be alright. At least he could ignore these questions plaguing his mind if he did. He'll be alright.

You two will be alright.

— 07/16/22

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kazuha #dear...#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #🦋🌷~

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maries-gallery · 11 months

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Outside, the trees sway in the wind with the ominous whisper of the upcoming rain. Gray clouds hang heavy in the sky, ready to burst into tears and shower the world with unforgiving tides.

Yet, as he stands in front of the castle’s windows, Clavis’s mind strays far from the haunting scent of rain drenched roses. And the memories of that day years ago, has nothing to do with the way his stomach falls over and his heart presses to his throat.

For in this moment the ghosts of his past stand no chance against you.

His eyes fall to your form, a bittersweet taste coating the back of his tongue as he watches you stroll in the gardens. Chevalier at your side. And Clavis’s heart clenches in his chest at the bright smile on your lips as you talk about this and that, Chevalier listening intently to every word.

How he longs to hear your voice. For you to tell him about your day, your troubles, your joys and fears. Anything.

Anything that would mean he has a place in your heart. Anything that would mean he matters more than anyone else.

That he is your special someone. The one you see yourself confiding in.

Clavis does not even notice the first drops that fall from the sky and crash on the windows. Around him, the colours blend together and the world blurs in a shapeless, colourless painting. Nothing but you remains. Nothing but the soft smile on your lips as you take Chevalier’s hand in yours and guide it to your cheek.

Nothing but the dull pain that pangs at Clavis’s heart and the ringing in his ears.

His own palm aches with the burning need for the warmth of your skin. His fingers twitch against the cold emptiness that grasps at them. The void holds his hand.

For a moment he forgets how to breathe, air too thick and heavy around him. Or maybe it is you who has just stolen the air from his lungs?

He wants to resent you for making him suffer, for making him feel like nothing, like the sharp edge of Chevalier’s blade would hurt less than the edge in the sight of you kissing his brother.

But how was this fair, when you didn’t even know you were responsible for his heart?

His gaze falls back to your smile. And he wishes he could just look away and go on with his day, but he can’t. Not when his heart has bled out of his chest and flown into your hands. Chaining him to eternal torture. Your forever prisoner.

He doesn’t know when he first started seeing you as more than a plaything, more than another victim of his schemes.

Maybe it was because of how you saw through him, how you dedicated so much time and energy to see through his well crafted mask and sip through the cracks. Maybe it was because of the time and energy you committed to getting to know the real him when nobody else bothered to.

Maybe it was because you saw him as Clavis Lelouch rather than Chevalier’s disappointing sibling and second best.

Or maybe he had been yours from the very first day, the very first sight and the very first time his lips touched the top of your hand in a kiss.

Yes, Clavis had been damned from the very first day. His heart claimed as yours long before he had foreseen this. Long before he had foreseen you falling for Chev too. Of all princes.

And Clavis wonders what had won you over. As if there was one thing Clavis thought to have an advantage in, it was women. Not that it was very hard considering the fact most women wouldn’t dare cross his brother’s path. And Chevalier never showed any interest in the opposite sex either.

So why did you fall for him? How could you fall in love with a man known for mercilessly slaughtering his enemies when you had Rhodolite’s purest heart? How could you fall in love with a man whose hands have shed more blood than you could ever hope to see in your lifetime?

A sad chuckle falls from his lips, his eyes fall to his gloved hands, and he decides it does not matter anyways. It does not matter what made you fall for Chevalier. For when Clavis dares throw a glance at his brother, he knows.

He knows that you were never meant to be his. And that this time it was not a matter of who won or who lost, because fate’s cards had been played long ago.

Chevalier never smiled. For anyone, for anything. Never had Clavis seen his brother’s features soften in any circumstance. Until you.

And that was proof enough that your heart could only ever belong to him. Much like Clavis’s would only ever belong to you.

Though this did not change the fact Clavis would gladly kill his brother if Chevalier didn’t treat you as you deserved.

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @pockcock @rhodolitesrose @venulus (tagging Clavis fans out there)

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hopepetal · 1 year

Note

Oh ho hooo hello hello hello! I see you are doing requests????

(I'll trade you, you do a request for me and I'll draw u something u ask me for)

Anyway I think you know who I'm going for

Scar!!! And uhhh reveal of some kind??? You pick. (I love reveals but I think you already know that anfjdjskak)

Hello there!! Here you go :D

Part two of this post!

Scar took panicked, gasping breaths as he leaned against his tree, the huge starter base he had built at the beginning of the season. His lungs ached from the strain of pulling in more and more air as Scar struggled to not have a breakdown, failing pretty badly if he was being perfectly honest.

He couldn't stop seeing it, even as he sank down against the tree and hugged his knees to his chest, sobbing loudly as he rocked back and forth. The zombies, not having been satisfied with taking his first world and first life, had snatched away his friend as well. And now he was alone again, because he hadn't been quick enough to defend Grian.

Scar remembered how they had just been jovially walking through the forest, talking and laughing and not keeping their guard up and it was all his fault. He clearly hadn't learnt his lesson from the zombie apocalypse, so now whatever higher power that was out there was punishing him–

And Grian. Grian hadn't deserved it, to be ripped apart by an undead thing. He hadn't even seen it coming, hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before dying, dying just like everyone else Scar had ever cared for. Now he was gone and Scar would never get the chance to tell him everything he felt. He had always put it off because he had grown soft, had forgotten that time was limited and life was fleeting.

Scar wailed, tugging at his hair as he sobbed, his rocking growing more frantic. His entire body burned as he took in too much oxygen, the panic attack setting in and gripping his chest in a vice. Images of Grian flashed in his mind, sending fresh waves of grief through him. So wrapped up in his sobbing panic, Scar didn't hear his name being called until the person was right next to him.

Scar reacted instinctively, reaching for his gun sword, pulling it out as he swept the legs out from under the person zombie, putting his sword to their throat. Panting heavily, Scar faintly wondered why he hadn't gone for the kill immediately when his vision came back into focus.

“Woah, woah, Scar!” Grian, a dead man walking, was staring up at him with a slight look of concern. Not fear, like he wasn't afraid of dying with a sword at his throat.

Scar's hands trembled as he stumbled back, eyes wide. “You,” he choked out, “how are you alive? How–” He quickly examined Grian, noting the lack of wounds. “You died. You were killed by the– by the–”

Grian slowly sat up, making no move to stand. He looked very confused, but there was a gentle understanding in his eyes. “Scar, this is Hermitcraft. We die all the time here. You die all the time here. I'm perfectly fine, see?” He patted himself down with a kind smile. “No injuries. Just a wounded pride.”

Scar hesitated for a moment, before it all came crashing back. Hermitcraft. Safety, sanctuary, freedom. Living, even after death. His cheeks coloured a bright red from embarrassment as he plopped back down on the grass, letting out a soft huff. “Oh, oh gosh. Grian, I'm so sorry, I don't know...” That was a lie. He knew exactly what happened, exactly why he freaked out.

Grian stood up, moving to sit next to him. “Yeah,” he murmured, “this stuff happens, Scar. You don't need to tell me anything– we all know the rule about backgrounds here. Don't ask, don't pry, everyone has their secrets. But I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Scar paused. He knew Grian wasn't expecting anything. When he spoke next, it was a surprise even to him. “I was in a zombie apocalypse.”

Grian looked over at him sharply, expression turning into a mixture of concern and fear. “What?”

Now that he had started, Scar couldn't stop himself from rambling. “You know hardcore worlds? Those really scary ones– like the life series, you know? Except it was only one life, and, well–” he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head– “it was the zombie apocalypse.”

Grian listened in silence. He was clearly horrified as Scar went on about how he had fought tooth and nail to survive, scrounging for food and resources, all alone in that desolate world. At one point, when Scar's breathing hitched and his shoulders started to shake, Grian put a wing around him, helping to ground the vex next to him.

“–and then the zombies... there were too many. It just. It got to the point where me and my gun weren't enough. And, well. I took my last stand there.” Scar's eyes shone with tears. “I died there. And a part of me died with it.”

Grian recalled how Scar had famously not spoken for the longest time, only first talking to him in a voice that was raspy from disuse and absolutely beautiful. “...oh, Scar,” he murmured, selfish tears of his own beginning to fall. “Can I touch you?” Upon receiving a short nod, Grian reached out and cupped Scar's face, turning his head so their eyes met. “Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me with this, I–” his voice trembled as he spoke, though he tried his best to keep his words steady and calm. “I'm so sorry.”

Scar shook his head, tears beginning to stream down his face. “It's– it's okay, Gri, it's all over now and–” He started crying in earnest, unable to speak through sobs.

Grian pulled Scar into a hug, wrapping his wings around his friend. “It's okay. Let it all out. I'm here for you.” Holding rightly to Scar, he murmured the two most comforting words he could. “We're alive.”

Scar wailed, holding onto Grian like he would a lifeline. “I– I–!” he gasped out, scrambling for the words he so desperately needed to say.

Grian just held him, crying himself. “It's okay. You're okay, Scar. You don't need to force yourself to talk.”

Scar shook his head, hands curling into fists to tug on Grian's jumper. “I–” he tried again, sobbing in frustration as he once again stuttered to a halt. “I– I love you!” he finally got out, and the weight on his chest was relieved. “I love you so much,” he sobbed out.

Grian let out a soft sound of surprise, before smiling through his tears. “I love you too,” he whispered, “gosh, Scar, I love you so much.”

“Thank you,” Scar sobbed, burying his face in Grian's chest. “Thank you...”

The two sat there for a long time in each other's arms, as night slowly turned to day. Eventually, the sobs died down, and Grian felt Scar relaxing and slowly falling asleep. He had exhausted himself with all the crying, and Grian smiled wearily as he gently maneuvered Scar onto his lap. Stroking the man's long brown hair, Grian watched the sunset rise.

Later, they would talk more. But for now, all they needed was rest.

#my writing #answered ask #knights of the angst table #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #scar #grian #angst #hermitcraft fanfic #tcd scar

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sannasruins · 1 year

Text

it seems no matter what, i love you

dabi x reader

type: angst

warnings: character death, toxic relationship, violence

a/n: my first ever fic! i hope it's well received <3

word count: 1.9k

He insisted that in this world, no one was innocent, they all had done some wrong, that everyone had a little bit of evil inside of them. He pointedly said those things to you, but you knew that you weren’t innocent, you knew you harbored a darkness inside of you. What you didn’t know was the point he was getting at, why was he so steadfast on reminding you constantly of your misdeeds.

You didn’t have much left in this world, but you had him, and you had your memories that you held dear, and you had placated yourself into thinking that was all you needed. You didn’t long for security, or for warmth, you had enough. But it’s not very smart to put so much of yourself into one person, you knew this, deep down, but there was nothing stopping you from never listening to reason.

You knew him from before, before his skin was tattered and his hair black, you knew unmarred, you knew snow white. You knew Touya. He had somehow made his place in your juvenile mind as a beacon of light, a source of solace, despite the horrors he was going through. And so, when he decided to burn it all, to disappear, to seek revenge, you were right on his tail. Leaving everything of your own behind as well. All you needed was him after all. And seeing what he had gone through, what he was forced to become, twisted you as well, it fueled your anger, and muddled your mind. But all of that was okay. You had him, Touya, Dabi, you didn’t care who he was or who he became, as long as he was by your side while he did it.

It was a rainy day, and cold, the kind that creeps past all layers to make itself at home in your bones. A simple in and out mission, and you were giddy that you got to do it alongside Dabi, there was even a small skip in your step. It had been a while since it had been just you and him, and excitement to wreak your shared havoc bubbled up in your veins, spilling past your lips as a giggle. Dabi looked over and behind at you from his two paces ahead, slight annoyance passing over his face at your noise, you clasped your lips tightly, but your smile didn’t leave your face. That didn’t matter as long as you were quiet, he really didn’t care what you did as long as you didn’t mess this up. You didn’t mind being scolded, but you didn’t want him in trouble as well, so you held your tongue as you crept closer to the building.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were there for, Dabi was the one who was debriefed on the objective, your presence was for backup only. That was okay though, you were more than happy to just protect him and nothing else.

There was crashing sounds coming from the building, getting louder as you approached, you could also start to make out muffled shouting, and began to wonder what exactly Shigaraki had sent the two of you to. Following behind the scarred man, you crept your way up the fire escape of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, reaching a broken window to peer into its contents.

You were surprised to see Dabi’s younger brother, Shoto, as well as two of his classmates, the green haired one and the explosive one that the league had kidnapped earlier in the school year, fighting a low-level villain. They must be out on their internship, you reasoned, but what were they doing here? And what were you doing here? You turned to Dabi and asked him in a concerned whisper “what is this?”.

He smiled at you, “if they can’t join you, beat ‘em.”

You blinked at him, brows temporarily furrowing. “Dabi… I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“It goes how I say it goes,” he retorted. You hummed; this won’t be the hill you die on today. “Okay but what are we supposed to do? And what about Endeavor, they’re interns as his agency, isn’t this too risky? Especially when it’s just you and me, 3 on 2 odds aren’t great-” you continued to voice your concerns before he cuts you off

“Shut it y/n.” and you do, “they’re just brats. Are you saying that two of Japan’s worst villains can’t beat a bunch of 16-year olds? Do you lack faith in me that much?” He asked the last question with a smirk, meeting your eyes. A blush rushed to your face, heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears, or maybe it was just the cold getting the best of you.

“No Dabi, of course not,” you trailed off, pursing your lips, “but what exactly are we supposed to do?”

Dabi tsked at you, “Don’t be getting all morally right on me now doll, you know what we have to do.”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, yeah, you’re a villain but they're still just kids.

“Now or never.” He stood up, stepping up onto the window’s sill and announcing his presence to the fight below, “Ready to burn?”

The fight was over faster than you had time to rationalize what was going on. The 3 had already been tired out by fighting with the minor villain, who had scurried off once Dabi made himself known. It was cowardly, using a diversion to weaken them, but nothing is fair in love and war. You easily knocked out the green one, not sure how far to take it, you didn’t have much time to contemplate the boy lying in a puddle of mud and blood before the blonde one flew at you in a flurry of explosions. You turned in time to miss the brunt of the attack, only having your side singed, the scent of burnt hair and flesh filling your nose, your eyes watering at the acrid smell, adrenaline keeping you from feeling most of the pain. You turned to look at the boy, huffing and standing in between you and his friend, ‘how cute’ you thought. You took in the blonde, his stance wide, knees bent, ready to attack, but besides that you saw he was injured, a large gash starting on the back of his shoulder and ending on his collar bone that was dripping blood down his arm and chest, and a rip in his baggy black pants, the surrounding fabric darkened.

You sigh almost disappointedly, this wouldn’t be much of a fight, your morals long abandoned after the little shit burnt you. And it wasn’t, once he charged at you again, you stepped to the side and made quick work of knocking him unconscious, followed by a sharp kick in the gut. “That’s for my jacket, bitch, it was my favorite one.” you dusted your hands off, satisfied with your quick work, and turned to Dabi, who had gone after his younger brother.

You froze in place, eyes widened, and mouth parted, at the disturbing scene in front of you. In Dabi’s hands, you saw the slumped body of his brother, hand poised in front of his face. It felt as if time had slowed to a crawl as the realization of what was about to happen came crashing into you. “Dabi,” you called out, “no!”

But it was too late.

You remembered the sweet, bi-colored hair baby, wide eyes and chubby fingers, making grabby hands as he tottled his way towards you and his eldest brother, both of you laughing and urging him to pick you, not the other, and his little dilemma on who he should go to first. You remember a little tot running up to you as you came home from school with Touya, yellow hats and randoseru’s, desperate to show the both of you what he had colored just for you. You remember a little older, still unscarred, him splitting a popsicle with you in the summer heat, and when one side broke off with a little bit of the other’s top, he gave you the side with more. And you remember his little innocent face, wrapped in bandages, and your heart aching, and your rage building, at how can someone do that to him, he was just so little, he did nothing wrong. You remember seeing him for the last time, his burn had healed into a scar, but he still looked so hurt, and he was so alone in that big house, and your rage grew at all the expectations and vicarious dreams that has been put upon his tiny shoulders, already weighing him down, breaking him.

Then you're back in the present, and you see the blue flames shoot from Touya’s palm, and you watch the boy burn.

You didn’t notice but at some point, you had fallen to your knees, the ache in them distant, being drowned out in the static that filled your head and body.

Touya drops the body unceremoniously and makes his way back to you with his signature smirk gracing his face, but the expression that usually gave you butterflies instead wrenched your gut, making it difficult to breath.

“Common,” he said, walking past you, “we’re done, let’s go.”

“T-Touya,” you stutter out, unable to take your eyes off of Shoto.

“Dabi,” he harshly corrects you, “Todoroki Touya has been dead for 10 years.”

There was silence as he waited for your quip back at him, but when it didn’t come, he turned to look at you, still on your knees with your back to him.

“What,” he spit, stalking towards your still figure, “what’s gotten into you?” He reaches you, stepping in front of your face, taking up all of your sight. He lifts your face with a finger under your chin.

“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously. You reach one shaking hand up to your cheek, finding it wet, you pull it back and look down at it. Dirty, covered in dry blood, damp with your tears.

“Why are you fucking crying?” he asked, as if he truly didn’t understand what had just happened, what he had just done.

“Shoto,” your voice cracked saying his name, “You, Touya you killed Shoto.”

“Okay? And?”

“You killed him Touya, how could you kill him, he, he did nothing wrong.”

Dabi scoffed, “He was Endeavor’s hope.”

That’s all he offered for explanation as he reached down and picked you up, whipping your tears away with the pad of his thumb, and you hated it, but you leaned into the comforting and familiar feeling.

You glared at him, through your tears, rousing a rumble from deep in his chest, a laugh. There you were wondering how you could ever forgive him for what he had just done, thinking you probably never could, and he was laughing.

“Oh y/n, baby. Somewhere, deep down, in that heinous heart of yours, there’s a part of you that will always love me, no matter what I do. You belong to me, heart and soul.”

You hated him. You hated him so much. Because he was right

“Loving you is torture.” You informed him, maybe hoping to hurt him a little bit, bring a stab of guilt to his heart or build remorse up in his throat, but he just hummed. Making his way out of the warehouse, and behind your retreating forms, setting it up in blue flames. You buried your head into his shoulder, it’s best not to think about it, you told yourself. But you knew.

You were just as bad as him.

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi angst #touya x y/n #touya x reader #toyua todoroki #dabi x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha dabi #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #bnha x reader angst

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cranetreegang · 11 months

Text

In the Light of Death - Part 2

Sebastian x FemReader with former Ominis x FemReader

Also, I'm the worst and forgot to mention my girl @underthenightskydreamsneverdie cause i went to her and begged for her wisdom about Seb. So thank you again for looking this over waaay back when <3 I love you <3 (also i can't wait for you to read the spicy bit i added in part 4 hehe)

Summary: Sebastian helps her through her grief, and she starts to wonder if she can survive on her own without him.

Warnings: Dealing with death, mentions of depression, grief, mourning

Song to listen to: 🎶 A Nearly Peaceful Place 🎶

Word Count: ~1,900 words

Read Part 1 Here - Find Whole Light of Death Series Here

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

The days turn to weeks, then a month passes - with Sebastian still by her side. Not that she’s complaining. She’s grateful for his presence, even as it spreads all over the house. His various books have drifted from his room and are strewn about the coffee table in the living room, while papers of all sorts cover both her side tables. It smells like the library with how many ancient tomes he has lying about. There’s a new ink stain on the couch that she hasn’t bothered to remove, and he’s spent many nights up with her as they both quietly read.

He asks her for her thoughts on the studies he’s working on, and they end up in heated debates half the time. It reminds her of all the times they spent studying and researching, exploring and discovering, when they were at Hogwarts. In fact, there were several ruins back in the day they wound up exploring from their mutual burning curiosity - much to Ominis’ chagrin.

Sebastian asks her to join him as he goes out to the field to explore said ruins. But, she can’t bring herself to go. It feels wrong, as if she’s not meant to be happy with anyone else. Even though the house is suffocating when she’s alone, and she has nothing to occupy her thoughts.

But when Sebastian returns, it’s like he carries the light and warmth of the sun with him. He’ll excitedly prattle about what wondrous new findings he discovered, and he insists they go the next time. She can only nod with a slight frown.

He helps her around the house as well; keeping it tidy, cooking when she has no desire to, and even fixing many of the broken things she can never remember to do. But, most importantly, he’s there when she’s caught in the tight clutches of grief. He’s always there, comforting her, as she mourns. Sometimes, he cries with her, sharing in her pain. She’s grateful he understands, truly understands, the agony she’s in. Because he feels it too. This emptiness. This loss.

She reflects on all of this as she walks along the lake’s shore. She hasn’t been here in some time, finding it far too challenging at first. But now that she’s here, a bittersweetness envelops her, and she all but avoids the towering trees looming just out of her peripherals - as if even the briefest of glances would be enough to destroy her.

Her and Ominis would walk along the shore for hours, talking about whatever was on their mind - or simply enjoying the silence. His hand would always tightly grip hers. As she walks now, she holds her own hand, trying in vain to mimic his grip.

The setting sun casts a gloomy, yet colorful hue across the lake. She stops, taking in how the water reflects the vibrant sky and the soft crashing of the waves as they come to shore. The damp breeze ruffles her hair and she closes her eyes - imagining all the times they’ve been here.

“I miss you. Every day,” she whispers. “They say it gets easier, and I guess it has… I don’t cry as much. You’ll have to thank Sebastian for that. He’s been… very kind. And patient. But, it’s only a matter of time before he leaves too. And… I don’t know if I can do it by myself, Ominis. I really don’t. I know you said I was strong, but it was only because you were by my side. I-I’m utterly pathetic on my own.”

Her burning eyes gaze up at the darkening sky and swirling gray clouds with a grimace.

“But, I’ll try. I know you’d want me to at least try.”

With a deep breath she turns away, heading back to her house.

Music greets her before she even has to open the door, and as she steps inside she’s welcomed by the warm scent of spices in the air. She heads to the kitchen, finding it bustling and alive as Sebastian dances to the upbeat tune from the record player. His eyes light up when he notices her.

“Ah, there you are!” He exclaims.

He flicks his wand to keep everything stirring and cooking while he dances his way towards her.

“Enjoy your walk?” He asks with a grin.

“I did-,” she gasps as he grabs her hand and spins her into him.

He chuckles as he begins to dance with her. He’s spinning them all around the room, narrowly missing furniture, and he moves off-beat to the music. But, she can’t find herself to mind as she lets him spin and lead her, giggling along the way. Food smears his cheeks and stains his forest green wool sweater, but all she can notice is his freckled face filled with a warm, contagious joy. And once the song ends, he spins her several times before lowering her into a dramatic dip.

“You’re not too bad,” he winks as he pulls her back up to stand.

“I would hope so. Ominis enjoyed all manner of dance lessons,” she smiles. “What’s got you so jovial?”

Sebastian takes her hand and leads her back into the kitchen with a wide grin.

He pulls out her chair and says, “I got some good news today.”

“Oh?”

He prepares their plates, setting the steaming pile of curry in front of her. He pops open a bottle of wine, pouring them both a glass, and then sits down next to her. His knee brushes against hers as he smiles.

“To exciting news,” he clinks her glass.

She laughs, “I would like to hear the news first.”

“Well, I got a letter today,” he says.

“And? What did it say? Come on, Sebastian. I’m dying of suspense.”

Sebastian smirks, eating a huge mouthful of curry. His eyes flutter as he mumbles about how good it is. She rolls her eyes, taking a bite herself. It’s spicy and it warms her entire body, like a fire has been set within her belly, but it’s comforting. It reminds her of home, of a mother’s cooking.

“So, the letter today,” he continues, “it’s about my research.”

She takes a sip of her wine, “And? What about it?”

A frown comes over her as she tastes the wine.

It’s familiar…

She looks over at the bottle and she turns it around to read the label. Her heart falls into a pit formed within her gut.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What is it?” Sebastian wonders, his hand landing on her knee.

“W-Why did you open this?” She hisses, hot tears already starting to fall down her cheeks. “You had no right to!”

His eyes widen, “W-What do you mean? What’s wrong? Tell me what I did wrong.”

“This wasn’t for you! This was for him and me! And you ju-just opened it!”

“No, no, hey, I didn’t know. I-” he stammers.

“Enough!” She shoves his hand away as she bolts to her feet. The question on the forefront of her mind comes forward in a sharp hiss, “Why are you here, Sebastian? Why have you stayed? You could’ve left at any time. Why stay?”

Sebastian’s lips part in shock and he looks away from her with a grimace, “Because he asked me to.”

She gasps, “What?”

A storm brews outside, slowly forming and churning. Heavy droplets slap against the window panes like tiny stones.

“He asked me to keep an eye on you,” he says as he looks back at her. “He had a letter sent to me the day after he-,” he closes his eyes, swallowing down the pain she knows all too well. “He wanted me to make sure you’d be alright. And to… make sure you keep on living. For the both of you.”

Her lip trembles and she shakes her head, “W-Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I never found the right moment. I’m sorry.”

She scoffs, “‘Never found the right moment?!’ You’ve been here this whole time, all because you felt obligated to respect a dead man’s wishes, and you didn’t think it important to tell me!”

“That is not the only reason I’m here,” he slams the table as he stands, towering over her with a heated stare. “You’re my friend. My best friend. Even if he didn’t ask, I would’ve came anyway.”

Lighting strikes almost on top of the house and the thunder which accompanies it is deafening. They both recoil, but it’s not enough to quell her fury.

“Why?” She seethes. “To take care of me? Am I really so pathetic?! I-I must be because now you’ve made me completely in need of you. Is that what you wanted? To make me spiral out of control every time I’m alone, because I can’t bear it! I can’t bear to be alone anymore, Sebastian! Is this what you wanted!”

Her voice is hoarse and cracking as she screams and her whole body is flush from her rage. The thunderstorm outside is at full force, rocking and shuddering the walls with its mighty gales.

“That is not at all what I wanted, and you know it!” Sebastian hisses. “I miss him, just as much as you do. So don’t stand here pretending like you’re the only one who’s hurting, because I am too! I need you just as much!”

She rolls her eyes and storms away, stomping up the stairs until she’s able to slam the door of her bedroom shut. She paces around the room, fists balled at her sides. ‘Keep living for the both of them’?! How dare he? How dare he!

She grabs the picture on her nightstand and hurls it across the room with a wailing scream. It shatters against the wall, but she doesn’t care. Her breathing is hard and hot, and she throws more things around their room - her room. The window seems to almost breathe with how strong the storm rages outside.

Glass breaks, vases shatter, memories are torn and shredded as she unleashes her fury on anything within sight. And when there’s nothing left, she collapses on the bed with a sob. The rage tempers and cools into a bitter sorrow she’s far too familiar with. The storm subsides until only soft rain patters on the window. Through her tears, she doesn’t hear her door open until a heavy weight makes the bed sag.

She stops crying, her breath catching in her throat. A warm hand is placed on her shoulder and she gasps. It starts to retreat, but she quickly snatches it by the wrist. She holds onto the wrist, unsure of what to do at first, until she pulls the hand towards her. A warm arm drapes over her - the weight comforting. Her fingers tangle with his and she clutches onto his hand against her chest.

A solid warmth presses against her back as another arm wraps around her until she’s fully engulfed in a tight embrace. She grips his other hand too, keeping it close to her hips, and presses her back fully into the inferno of his body behind her. And for a moment, she feels alive. His breath passes through her hair like a summer breeze and his arms are secure around her. He smells of spices, old books and ink, and all the things that are not her love. It’s something entirely new.

Her body relaxes into him, her breaths becoming gentle and soft. He holds her tightly, enveloping her in his warmth. She can’t keep her eyes open any longer and she lets herself drift away into a dreamless sleep.

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Read Part 3 Here

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AN: mhmmmmm analogies mhmmmm the storm is tied to her emotions and i'm def not on the nose about that at all mhmmmm cause magic mhmmm yes mhmmm i'm like a microwave now mhmmmmmm

anyways

Part 3 is when the spice starts >:)

im not the best at writing smut so uhhhhh forgive me

Feedback always welcomed <3

when i first wrote this, i had no intentions of splitting it up like this, and it probs shows. oh well. forgive me and my infinite sins.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #fanfic #creative writing #former ominis x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfiction #much angst #hogwarts legacy sebastian #grief #loss #sebastian is like the upbeat puppy that's trying his best to cheer up his depressed best friend #eventual friends to lovers

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caffeinatedmoth · 2 years

Note

Ok preface I know that possessive behavior is a red flag but uh. I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if I could please get some Lobo being a lil jealous and possessive over the reader.

Lobo x Reader

tw: swearing, alcohol, smoking, suggestive implications

a/n: love this prompt so i might be a walking red flag myself lol

“God, you cannot be serious.” you groan with disdain.

Before you was a run-of-the-mill bar, brimmed with noise and an odor that was downright foul. The large burly mass behind you places his hands on your shoulders, “Aw, c’mon, you’ve never been to this one.” Lobo takes a drag of his cigar before haphazardly flicking it out of sight and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. Just as those words left his mouth a crash emits from the entrance of a bar. One of the drunks had stumbled out to pour his guts out onto the pavement.

You groan once more in protest, “Is that really supposed to convince me? I think the stench alone is a safety hazard.” you whine softly before covering your mouth and nose in your hands.

Lobo cackles, “You get used to it.” he begins to confidently stride past you, “Plus, has the Main Man ever steered you wrong?”

Begrudgingly you catch up to his heel and huff in response. “I could fill a room with how many terrible ideas you’ve had.” With a glint in his daring red eyes and wide grin, he reaches behind himself to pull you in front of him. Lobo then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder to sit, perched; a well practiced habit that you grew accustomed to.

“Argue all y’want, sugar. Y’know what that usually leads to…”

His mischievous chuckle earns a frustrated sound and a tug of his hair, “Lobo!”

“Relax, babes, at least I’m payin’.” the large man is completely unfazed by your halfhearted attempts to hurt him as he continues to wear his wide grin.

You only grumble to yourself when you finally reach the bar. As crowded as it was Lobo manages to squeeze you two into seats furthest from the bathroom. The barstool was so worn out it groaned beneath the added weight. You made a mental note to burn these clothes later. In the corner of your eyes you spot a sea of creeps. However, you were quick to find comfort in the fact that they were clearly wary of who was in your company. Returning your focus to the barkeep you hear Lobo ordering himself something you assumed was whiskey. He turns to you and nudges your arm. You usually got something light, but tonight was different. Lobo only brought you out here for drinks because you had a terribly rough day at work.

You pick something that is sure to boost your confidence and get this party started. This doesn’t go unnoticed by your loud mouth boy toy. “That bad, huh?”

The bartender is quick to return with your orders. “You have no idea. I am so calling in tomorrow. I’m doing way more than what I’m paid for and they know it! I mean this morning,” you begin retelling your horrible day to Lobo who was uncharacteristically listening without a word. If anything, he was watching you transition from a bundle of stress to a rather friendly little thing. It was somehow relieving to him to see you loosen up so much more than usual. Not that he would ever admit it, but he hated it when you would be so full of burden and barely allow him a windows view of your problems. Now you were suddenly telling him anything without much shame or thought for that matter.

“And that was the worst party I had ever gone to.” you take a swig of your drink, hardly tasting it anymore. Lobo throws his head back to laugh, “Haw! No wonder you quit tequila!”

A few stories and a few drinks later, you notice that you were well passed tipsy. Not that you minded at the time. Just as you were about to start another story, something catches your attention. It was a familiar rythme. The second it hits you, you gasp and turn to Lobo. “Holy shit I love this song!” Although you were slurring your words, you jumped right in. With caution to the wind you even leap onto the bar. It was much to his surprise, but he enjoyed your enthusiasm.

Your choreography was incredibly improvised and frankly, embarrassing. Regardless, everyone in the bar loved it and some even began to cheer for you. Involuntarily, Lobo mentally catalogs this song for later. For now he decides to enjoy the show and cheer you on as well. At some point the fun begins to end when a drunk pulls on your arm by your wrist and into his lap. Red eyes widen at your playful attitude as you respond by caressing their cheek and continuing to sing and laugh. As the song ends the bar erupts in laughter and euphoria.

“And what’s your name, mister.”

“You can call me daddy.” he winks at you, “How’s about you and I get outta here, sugar lips.”

You dizzily giggle at him, “Where’re we goin’?”

“A fraggin’ morgue if you don’t get yer paws off my things.” there was a noticeable path between the crowd that led to you both.

Lobo stood in front of you two, not the least bit impressed. In fact, his brows furrowed and he held a disgusted snarl. “Ha ha awkward.” you giggled despite the tension. Perhaps next time he'll just bring the drinks to your place. “Listen, ass-face, if I gotta repeat myself, I’m gonna mess you up so bad I’m gonna be scrapin’ yer veins from my fingernails for a week.”

The bar is silent as Lobo uses his size to loom over the drunk who began to visually shake. “Woah-!” you have to catch yourself on the floor as you are quickly pushed off of your cushion-y seat. The drunk nervously laughs, “My bad, man, didn’t know you had dibs.” he holds his hands up defensively. This did nothing to please the main man as his blood was still boiling. He probably wouldn’t be so upset had you been in your right mind. He knows you would have socked this scumbag in the face before calling to him if you were sober. Thankfully he knew he couldn’t really blame you for any of this no matter how much he wanted to. Didn’t stop him from taking his anger out on this dweeb however.

That said, Lobo uppercuts the guy through the ceiling. His ears twitch at the sickening crack upon impact. Nobody complains and nobody bats an eye. Like a hivemind, they go about their business, even as blood drips from the ceiling.

That was somewhat satisfying, he decided. Returning his sights back on you he's quick to lift you to your feet and into his arms. Considering you were still struggling to get up he figured this would be easier than waiting for you to sober up enough to walk. He was glad he could help you relax, but whatever had happened just then was not ideal. You two may not have been dating but in his eyes you were exclusive. He made sure you knew that with how many secret admirers he had to scare off these past few months.

Lobo grumbles as he looks down at your flushed gaze. “Th-thanks, Big Guy.” you gently pat his bicep, exhausted, “Tonight was really fun.”

It relaxes him to see the tired smile on your face. His playful bad boy attitude returns, “Yer gonna pay for that lil show back there. Don’t go thinkin’ yer off the hook yet, sweetie bits.” He pays the tab and begins to head towards the door.

You snort at him, “Don’t tell me yer jealous.”

“I don’t like anyone touchin’ my stuff.” he retorts before throwing you over his shoulder and smacking your backside, as is tradition when you give him a headache. “Hm, dunno if I like bein’ called “stuff”.”

“You’ll get over it.” You chuckle in agreement to that.

On the way home you manage to fall asleep before you even get to your street. Lobo puts you to bed and before his commitment issues make him leave, he takes a second to look at you. Only you would have the courage to fall asleep on the most dangerous bounty hunter in the cosmos. Something about that made him smirk to himself. Lobo leaves with a mental note to bother you in the morning.

#lobo dc x reader #mothwrites #lobo x reader #lobo dc #hes gonna be annoying in the morning #love this man #if thats wrong i dont wanna be right #dc x reader

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matt0044 · 3 months

Text

The Mythical "Arrogant Localizer."

Too often I find a perpetuation of this narrative, especially with A.I. set to wiz all over Anime subtitles, that translators or ADR Script Writers had it coming. That they dared to tamper with the original by "changing personalities" and "pushing agendas" so much that CR decided to axe them for the politically neutral A.I.

Here's the thing:

Whenever some weeb claims that a translator was arrogant or "couldn't listen to criticism," it's not that they're acting like they know better. It's because they do know better.

They know that Japanese words or sentences can't be translated one-to-one into English, owing to how each country that the originate from were world's apart before global travel grew in scale.

They know that context and setting matters, especially in the case of something like Fire Emblem where characters in a medivel-esque setting would likely speak not unlike Shakespeare characters.

They know that each character has a distinct voice. An honorable Samurai like Goemon is going to have a more refined sense of speaking compared to the wise-cracking Lupin or the sardonic Jigen.

They know, especially, that humor based on puns or cultural references won't always work from one language to another.

Know what they also know? That 4kids was actually not good. They grew up during the days of dubs being borderline overhauled because of a poor sense of marketing. They'd prefer to not go back to there because they actually love Anime.

Of course, a lot of them are beholdened to what their clientelle want for their title's international distribution. Thus those who's produced the Anime they're bringing over are entitled to step in and object if they so choose. There have been incidents like that but that they get rectified speaks to the level of quality control these days.

Like... Brendan Blaber's attempted changes with Love Complex were unilaterally shot down. He was an jerky freelancer who did ADR script writing and overstepped his boundaries.

And all of this are things that translators on Twitter will affirm. I get the allure of the conspiracy theory. Of trying to figure out what's really going on and that those in the industry wouldn't dare reveal their nefarious plans.

But if we're going to have any conversation about translation and what's too far for the localization process, we need to take off out tin hats to focus on what we currently have to work off of. Either that or apply for a job in translation and see things from the inside for yourself.

Furthermore, if any of these translators seem "testy" or "unable to take criticism," it's that they keep going on and on about their choices in translation and how the theory overall goes. Yet so many are too eager to paint them as the villains and won't listen to a damn word.

Frankly, they should be angry. Social Media has broken down the divide between fandom and those who work on their shows where you gotta kowtow to what the former wants or you're the bad guy. Even when you try to debunk misconceptions and misinformation, they still want their lightening rod for their ire.

So no wonder they seem like assholes. They're just done entertaining those who will never, ever, ever see them as anything other than the villain.

But even assuming that they’re everything outrage merchants have marketed them as, AI in Anime on any level isn’t a win in any sense. It’s starts with subtitles, then voice acting (and we all know how authentic those sound) and soon it’ll make its way over to Japan.

Animators dying or being hospitalized because they won’t be good little cogs for the corporate machine? A.I. ain’t asking for time off. Voice Actors complaining about salaries? AI ain’t asking for pay period.

But you know what? Let CrunchyRoll invest in this. Let them try to hoard more money… and crash n’ burn in the process. Because it’ll take a popular title being subtitled with very erroneous lines to make the webs wake up. Nothing like a few Titanics to scare the straight.

#anime #Manga #crunchyroll #localization #localizers #translations #translation #translator

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mazegays · 5 months

Text

could've followed my fears all the way down

Chapter 17

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18

The first few days are easy. Familiar. They’ve gone out scouting this far before, and there are little paths worn in from use. The weather is kind to them, but they’ve got plastic sheets for when it starts to rain; their sunny days won’t hold forever.

Sonya points out the different plants they’ve tried in the greenhouse, to see if they’re edible at all.

Most of them aren’t, which sucks, because they could really use more easily-accessible food sources.

Thankfully, none of the ‘testers’ (mostly just Sonya, and whoever else she can get to try it.) have died from any of the plants. They collect what they can and eat most of it themselves.

Thomas’s food pack has to last a lot longer than theirs.

“What do you think you’ll find, Thomas?”

“More plants, hopefully. I’m thinking if we’ve scared off any deer around here, but maybe if it’s just me, I’ll see some. I wonder if Frypan knows how to make jerky.”

“I don’t think there’s anything he’s not willing to try making, at least.”

“Good that.” Thomas laughs. “We’ll split tomorrow morning, then. Are you going right back?” They’d made better time than he’d planned for.

“No, we’ve got a few things around here to take a look at first. I haven’t been out this far before. Have you, Aris?”

“This is the first time I’ve been in here for more than a few minutes. I wanted a change from fishing every morning.” He explains. Thomas hadn’t even realized that Aris was fishing every morning; it explains why he hasn’t seen much of him at dinner. He’s pretty sure that Aris has to be up, like, stupid early for fishing.

“When will you get back, Thomas? I know Aris and I plan on being back in three or four days. How much food do you have?”

“I’ve got enough for three days out here and the trip back. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a good handle on running in the woods now, too. If it comes to that I’ll run back. I’ll be maybe a week behind you.”

“What do I tell Minho and Gally about why you’re not with us?” She challenges.

He’d really hoped she wouldn’t say that.

“That you lost me? No, don’t tell them that. They’ll flip out. Tell them I was an idiot who went off on his own. They’ll believe that.”

“You can’t avoid them forever, Thomas.”

“I don’t want to. But it’s better if I do.”

“How long should we wait?” Aris asks. “If you don’t come back?”

“I’ll come back.”

“Will you want to?”

“Yes, Aris, I’ll come back. I was never planning on not coming back— ” Not this time, anyway, “— but this will be easier with just me. We won’t have enough food for all three of us, or even two of us.”

“You planned it that way, Thomas, don’t try and fool us.” Sonya sighs, tugging him over so he’s sitting next to her. “I don’t know why you’re trying to run away from them, from yourself, but it’s not going to work long-term. You’re going to crash and burn eventually, or one of them will. You can come back with us. I don’t think Jorge really expects you to stay out here alone that long.”

“I’ll be okay, Sonya. I’m not running, I promise. I just need to think.”

“And you can’t do that around everyone else?”

No, he can’t trust himself not to tell them everything.

He doesn’t even know what ‘everything’ entails yet. It’s not worth saying something and then finding out he actually felt the opposite.

He doesn’t want to do that to them.

And, he reminds himself, there’s the matter of Rosa— who won’t believe him when he says he’s not being abused, which he hasn’t told anyone about.

She had, however, led him to realize how much happier they were when he wasn’t around.

It was better this way. Minho and Gally could sort things out without him in the way, and he could get over himself alone, with no one else having to deal with his issues.

With him.

Sonya stares at him, hard, like she can read his thoughts.

She’d probably knock him out and drag him back if she could.

continue reading or finish on ao3

The shadows of the canopy are barely there when he leaves the next morning. This deep in, he can hardly see the sky, but he knows Sonya and Aris won’t be up until sunrise at least.

He’s not going to risk the chance of them convincing him not to go on. He’ll have to move more slowly at first, and watch his step very carefully, but by the time they wake they won’t be able to follow him.

He’s so focused on going as far as he can, getting away from everything, that he nearly forgets to stop and eat.

His body doesn’t allow that for long, so he finds a good spot— near berries that look edible but aren’t ones he’s seen before.

He wraps a handful up in cloth and tucks them away. Someone might recognize them when he gets back.

Thomas moves more slowly in the afternoon, taking in everything around him; different plants, more than one he knows is edible—he digs a couple of each up carefully and wraps the roots.

More food sources are never a bad thing.

Still, he doesn’t find much else that day; no animals other than birds or squirrels.

It’s lonelier than he thought it would be, out here.

Yeah, it’s kind of nice, peaceful, but… the solitude is itching at him already.

The white-walled room, the treadmill, the inconsistent meals

He can’t think about that now.

He’ll just keep a routine. He’ll leave shortly after sunrise each morning, eat lunch when the sun is highest, and then settle in right when dusk starts to fall.

That will help.

Minho tries running on his own, but even though he’s allowed to now, it just feels wrong. He’s used to having Thomas by his side, used to finding his balance with a hand on Thomas’s shoulder or back when he stumbles, used to Thomas doing the same on him.

He can’t do it.

It’s… it’s not the same. And it’s not as if he could run with Gally, because Gally’s still hurt, and would probably laugh at him if he suggested it in the first place.

Minho would ask Harriet or Sonya, but Sonya’s still on the scouting trip with Thomas and Aris and Harriet’s got enough on her hands.

So he doesn’t run. He can take a few days off, he reasons, just until Thomas gets back.

“Stop acting weird, shank.” Gally throws a pillow at his head. “So you don’t want to run. Have you considered walking? A nice stroll, perhaps?”

“Shut up, asshole.” That’s one of Minho’s favorite new words. Sometimes the adults get all huffy about it if he uses it around them, though. Why’d they teach it to them if they didn’t expect them to use it? Seems dumb.

“Min, seriously, you’re driving me crazy with all of your pacing around. You need to go and do something, man.”

He doesn’t want to leave Gally alone, though. He knows that Gally would be okay without him, but the ache in his chest when he thinks about Thomas (he knows it shouldn’t be so strong; it’s only been a few days, but he wants to see Thomas again. And talk to him, and take naps together, and tease Gally together, and eat together.) is only lessened when he’s with Gally.

Minho’s not going to read into that too much right now. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to leave Gally alone, but he can’t settle down, either.

“You know what I would suggest if we were back in the Glade?” Gally’s smirking when he looks at him.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Of course, he’d be doing all the work, Gally can’t do anything right now.

“I mean, if you want to…”

He does want to. Kind of. He and Gally never did this sort of thing together, but they’ve both heard things about each other.

“What if we get caught?”

“That never bothered you before, from what I know.”

“It was different, in the Glade. It was only boys our age.” When Chuck had come up in the box, those of them who were typically louder (Alby and Newt) and more likely to fool around in easily-accessible places either quieted down or moved somewhere else. If Chuck hadn’t been so damn curious and wanting to get into everything, it wouldn’t have been a problem. At least, not as much of a problem as it was. But the kid would sneak up on you no matter what he thought you were doing, and privacy was almost a foreign concept to him at first.

“So?”

“So I don’t want Anya or Harriet to walk in on me sucking your dick, Gally.”

“Oh, is that what you wanted to do?” Gally motions for him to come closer to the bed. “I was mostly joking. I don’t think I’d be up for much of that anyway. You could take a nap, though. You haven’t been sleeping at night.”

“Yeah, I know.” Both of them have been having bad nightmares since Thomas left. All of the things they try not to worry about during the day only come back to haunt them in the middle of the night.

When Minho wakes up again, he’s back on the Burg. He can tell because even after days, twisting his back in certain ways burns.

He can tell because Newt’s here, and Teresa, and a group of girls in the corner.

He can tell because Thomas isn’t. Which means that…

It means that WCKD has killed him.

He’s going to have to live without Thomas.

Minho doesn’t know why that loss hits him so much harder than the others he’s faced recently. He hasn’t even known Thomas that long. A month, at most.

But he already knows he doesn’t want to live without him.

He tells the others what he’s thinking, what he thinks WCKD did, but it almost feels like it’s not him.

And then Ratman brings out Thomas’ body.

‘Something’s not right. This isn’t how it goes.’

He ignores the thought, because Thomas is dead and Minho’s decisions killed him. Minho killed him.

Not in the same way he killed Gally, not directly, but he killed him. And he’s going to have to live with that.

He doesn’t want to live with that.

‘This is wrong.’

Yes, it is wrong, because Thomas isn’t here. Thomas should be here. Minho should have picked someone else, he should have chosen.

But he couldn’t do that, could he? He couldn’t pick another of his friends to die. At least this way, he didn’t name anyone.

‘Minho, wake up!’

He is awake. He just really wishes he wasn’t. If he weren’t awake, then he wouldn’t have to face the fact that Thomas is dead. His body’s right there, Minho could go and touch it if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

Doesn’t want to think about Thomas like he’s dead.

He wonders if the others will leave him here, if he asks.

(He already knows they won’t.)

Minho sits on the floor, facing away from the evidence of what he’s done, and waits for WCKD’s next move.

It’s all he can do now, anyway.

‘MINHO, WAKE UP!’

This time, he listens.

“Minho!” Minho flings an arm out to let Gally know he’s awake. “What was that about?”

“Mmmm, give me a minute.” It hadn’t felt like a nightmare, but apparently he had been reacting like it was one.

“You were, like, crying in your sleep, Min. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“It was after the Scorch.” Minho sits up, wiping at his face. He doesn’t think he’s cried during nightmares before; Thomas hasn’t said anything if he has. “They separated us and had us all do these different trials. Mine was picking someone for them to kill. I refused, but when they brought me back to the main room, Thomas wasn’t there. He was gone longer than anyone else, and I thought--we all thought--that they’d killed him. They hadn’t, clearly, but in the nightmare they had. Ratman even brought us his body.

“It didn’t feel like a nightmare, though. It felt like I was still there. Like that’s where I was supposed to be. There was something telling me that it was wrong, but I didn’t listen because of course it felt wrong, they’d killed Thomas and it was my fault.”

“That’s… that’s a rough one, Minho.” Gally says. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“That’s okay. I don’t know what to say after nightmares, either. Especially when it’s something like that.”

“Would it be better if Thomas was here?”

“Yeah, but he’s off on his little mission. Why do you think he keeps leaving us behind?” Minho knows Thomas trusts them. He knows Thomas likes them, but he can’t figure out why Thomas keeps running away from them.

“I don’t know. It’s frustrating, though. If he just stayed put, we could talk things out, and we’d be okay.” Gally takes his hand, and Minho moves to lie at the top of the bed with him without more urging.

“Good luck with that. I don’t think Thomas knows how to stop. I don’t think he even knows how to slow down.” Not that Minho’s much better at it. It’s been really hard, forcing himself to remember that he’s not in constant danger these days. He doesn’t have anything to solve, nothing to be looking out for.

“If anyone can out-stubborn him, it’s us.” Gally points out. “He’s our boy, alright? And we’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

It might just take some time before they can convince Thomas that he doesn’t have to be trying to fix everything all the time.

Shuck, they’ll have to learn together.

<- 16 18 ->

#thomas #minho #gally #thominho #thomally #sonya #aris #tmr fic #tmr #nix writes #could've followed my fears all the way down #thominho fic #thomally fic #whump fic #whump writing #ao3 #ao3 fic

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ryloriee678999 · 2 years

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I loved this fic and I was thinking maybe could you do that aftermath you was talking about? Your fics are absolutely AMAZING🤩

Getting Better (Otherwise) Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

A/N: Hope you're doing okay Anon!! I wasn't really sure what to do but I Hope you like it <3 It gets pretty angsty in the second part so feel free to skip it.

Summary: Aftermath of ‘I Don't Care If It Hurts Me, I Care If It Hurts You.’ Recovery is messy but it doesn't always have to be. (1800 words)

Warnings: Withdrawal, substance abuse, relapse, angst.

It’s been a week after your relapse, a week clean. You couldn't believe you were starting over again. For the first time, you weren't alone in this. Wanda was by your side every single second of the day. She ignored her calls, stayed in your room, and took care of you. She didn't trust you to be alone and it was annoying at first but you knew where she was coming from.

On another note, your relationship with her got much stronger. You were with her every day after never interacting with each other prior. You really got to know her, you knew everything she liked, how she grew up, and what her favorite foods are; but that was the only positive thing that came out of this. The hardest part was the crash. When you woke up after Wanda put you to bed, immediately you craved more. Wanda must've read your mind because she woke up right before you could get out of bed. She held you closer no matter how much you tried to get out of her grip. The feeling never went away though, you knew you’d always want more.

You were thankful there were no visible symptoms. No shaking, sweating, or vomiting. You wouldn't want to put Wanda through that so you were happy that didn't happen. Although other psychological effects were hitting you hard, you missed the elevated mood that came with drugs. Without it, you didn't think you could be happy even if the happiness you felt from the pill was all chemical.

Other than the irritability and tiredness, you were dreading one more thing: Talking to Wanda. She had so many questions but you were able to avoid them or brush them off. She would never push you to talk but you knew she wanted to know why, how, and when this all started. But she never wanted to back you into a corner so she waited until you started talking.

One day in bed, you lay there feeling tired but not able to sleep. It felt like your entire body was burning but you made no move to fix that. That's when Wanda walked in, she could tell something was off and wondered what happened. She was just outside the bedroom, peeking in to see how you were doing.

“Are you okay,” she asks, as she appears at the door. It was a stupid question to ask but she meant well.

“Mmhm,” You hum in response. You move so that you’re not on your back staring at the ceiling, instead, you look to face her. After a few seconds of silence, anxiety brushes over you when you finally find it in yourself to speak. “I think I'm ready to talk.”

Wanda's mouth opens in surprise but she quickly closes it. “You don't have to,” she assures you but sits on the bed next to you to listen.

“I want to.” You take a deep breath before speaking, you didn't even know where to start but once you started talking you couldn't stop. “I started a few years ago. It wasn’t anything at first, just a few times a month with friends. Then that wasn't enough and things got out of hand. I tried stopping but then,” your voice starts to falter in shame, “I couldn't.”

“When I joined the Avengers, it was enough of a distraction for me to stop. Then missions got harder and I just kept failing.” You remembered after every hard work day all you wanted to do was feel better. Drugs helped you relax when it felt like everything wrong was your fault. “I guess it just made things easier. They made me happy.”

“I never had to worry about it affecting anyone else. As long as it was only me, it was okay to keep doing it. But the look on your face when I overdosed.” You sigh, tears starting to fall. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for crying,” you apologize again through deep inhales. “I’m making you do all of this. I'm sorry.”

“You’re not making me do anything, do not apologize,” she said in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. Her hand grips firmly to yours. The way she was so patient with you made you cry harder. “Don't apologize, okay, you’re doing your best. I know it’s hard but you’ve gone a week, and I'm so proud of you.”

A small smile formed on your face. Wanda pulling you into a hug only makes you feel better, your arms wrap around her back and hers around your torso. “It’s so hard to stop,” you admit, “especially when a part of me still doesn't want to.” Wanda squeezes you tighter. “You can do it, you made it through this week, you'll make it through the next one.”

You really wanted to believe that with the help of Wanda you could do that, but it was just so hard. These past seven days have been the hardest days in your life, harder than any fight or mission you’ve been on. “I hope so,” you say, voice still trembling.

You detach from her only to look her in the eyes, “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Wanda smiles, “I don't know what I’d do without you either, malysh.” Her hands go to hold the side of your head as she kisses the top of your forehead. The action makes warmth fill up your body.

Drugs could never simulate how you felt right now.

You made it through the next three weeks. It was hard but you did it. During this time, you formed a romantic relationship with Wanda. You also let the other Avengers into what was happening, of course, they were supportive but felt bad for not noticing sooner. They didn't know too much but it was enough to get you put on break until things were under control. Lately, you’ve been happy and it felt like everything was getting better.

But recovery isn't linear.

The cravings didn't go away. Sometimes, the feeling was in the foreground while you did things, but other times you couldn't stand it. So you could sense from a mile away that you would relapse. It was like it was bound to happen.

Shame filled your body when it did happen. You didn't care how huge a setback to recovery this was, you cared about how Wanda would react. She would be so disappointed in you, all of that time with her was for nothing.

The guilt wasn't enough to throw away what you bought and used. You told yourself this was the last time but you knew it was a lie. You hated how quickly you gave in.

A week went by, no one seemed to notice as the drug binge took place. You tried your hardest to hide how messed up you were. You cleaned up the evidence, making sure there was no trace of anything.

The paranoia was unbearable. Every glance from Wanda made you think she found out. Every time she said she wanted to talk made you terrified. But she could never find out, you’ve been so careful.

Not careful enough though.

Today you come home to Wanda holding up a small plastic bag.

You put your hands up defensively. Your eyes widen at what she's holding in her hand. “I don't know what that is,” you lie, panic filling up your voice. “Why are you lying to me?” She asks, her voice being weirdly calm terrifies you further.

“I swear that was the last of it, I'm done,” you try to convince.

“You’re in denial, love. What happened?” She questions as she drops the bag on the floor and goes to hold your hand. Immediately you step away from her, something about her suddenly makes you feel unsafe. You were horrified at the way she was looking at you.

When you don't respond, she slowly steps closer. “Did you ever think how hard this was for me? Do you know the toll this has taken on me?” She says loudly, her voice no longer soft and caring.

You flinch before staring at her in shock at the words that just left her mouth. A part of Wanda regretted it but it wasn't enough to get in the way of her feelings. “You let me down and now you won't even tell me what happened? It’s like I have to beg you to speak.”

“I can’t listen to this,” you say and walk away from her. You’re just about to leave when something stops you. “Sit down!” she demands, red flaring in her eyes. Suddenly you feel yourself flying towards the couch, landing harshly. Quickly you adjust to sitting down properly as she walks closer. Your jaw tenses up as tears burn in your eyes. She stares at you, noting how you almost look lifeless.

“Why?” She questioned. “Don't you realize what you’re doing is killing me?”

You block her out. She’s practically talking to herself at this point. Your mind keeps replaying what she said before she threw you onto the couch. ‘Did you ever think how hard this was for me?’ You knew what she was saying was out of anger but you couldn't help but feel like you burdened her.

Her voice is in the background until she kneels in front of you when she realizes you're not listening. You finally look at her, Wanda's eyes matching your own with tears. “It’s hard to see you do this again,” she says in a low voice.

You nod, “I know. I’m going to stop.” It's said in a natural way that Wanda could tell you’ve said it before.

“Words aren't enough. I need you to be here with me, baby. You need to stop, don't just say you will.” Things seemed to calm down but Wanda was still crying. “I’m sorry I said all of that. It was selfish, this isn't about me,” she apologized.

Silence fills the room before you could say what you’d been thinking. “But it’s true, isn't it? I’ve made things worse for you?” You question. You felt stupid for not taking her feelings into account. She's been there for you 24/7 and you never cared to ask if she was okay.

“No, baby that's far from the truth,” she promises. “You make everything better, I love you.” That was the first time you heard her say that, it only made your heart shatter more. “I just don't want you to get hurt again, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Wanda smiles and then stands up, to engulf you in a hug. Although what she said was ingrained into your mind, it was a push to get you clean. Even if you couldn't do it for yourself, you’d do it for Wanda.

The next day came around and you were back to square one. One day sober, but Wanda assured you that we all have to start somewhere.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female!reader #mcu fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda fanfiction #tw substance abuse

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