#hate sand™

[imissthefire]

if stefan turns out to be, like, some level of not good, I'm gonna drop kick him into the fucking sun.

[dayshifting]

MERMAID DR MOODBOARD.

DAYLIN VERA MARIE — THINK . . . pink mother of pearl tail. lip oil. platform flip flops & heels always. collects anything in the sea that glitters. prefers seawater over freshwater. head over heels over a stanford law student. marketing major.

MEET THE COVE CREW !

JULIANNA ‘JULES’ RENEE — childhood best friend. man hating lesbian. stormy blue tail. body oil shining under the sun. sand stuck in braids. poli-sci major.

AARYAA IMANN — mom friend™. sage seaweed green tail. silver jewelry. human first aid. always one step ahead. unofficial leader. marine biology major.

ERINA ‘RINA’ MEI — rowdy lover girl. coral orange tail. matcha & açaí obsessed. party planner. pilates princess. partner in flirty crime. film & media major.

DAY’S LOVE LETTER — !

this reality is slowlyyyyy becoming one of my top three… this is a lil placeholder for this reality’s intro, i just wanted this to be out there into the abyss that is tumblr :))

[togetherasone]

So... I've been thinking thoughts™ about Primo being Perpetua's uncle... And are thoughts™ canon? Who the fuck cares at this point? Certainly not me :)

I like to think that Perpetua had never actually been to The Ministry. Not until now, no.

Well, except for one week during each vacation period of the boarding school, but those endless weeks had no meaning to him. He understood his mother held an important position there, but anything other than that crumb of information was a mystery to him. And no one seemed at all bothered to solve it for him. Not even his mother. But, truth be told, he could not care less. In fact, he hated losing one week in that monumental building. Not when people in religious clothing kept him from exploring his surroudings by smacking him whenever he moved an inch more than he was supposed to between those marble walls, sending him to play in the Gardens. He could have died of boredom if it had not been for an ancient man between those trees, bushes and flowers. You see... Primo was not that old, of course, but he seemed so, almost as old as a parchment, before the eyes of a child.

When Perpetua was around for his periodic week of dying of boredom — running around the Gardens distracted him for a brief period of time; however, one could never run around the Gardens forever, right? —, Primo would take him to the Greenhouses and teach him about the plants inside. Now, that could truly have been the death of Perpetua, because what could be more boring than that? But there was something about that ancient man that enthralled him. It seemed as though a magnet pulled Perpetua towards Primo. And, thus, he stayed. He observed. He listened. Wisdom might have dig a place under layers of blood and tissue given the way Primo existed. His voice was low, calm. Quiet. His movements were contained, calculated. Steady. He seemed aware of the slightest disturbance as though he was somehow connected to Mother Nature. His speech was filled with metaphors, anecdotes, fables, tales, stories.

In the end, Perpetua had learnt about life. About plants, too, but, mostly, about life. About happiness, friendship, love, hate, jealousy, greed, fear, guilt. It turned out Primo was an excelent storyteller, and Perpetua was hypnotized by him. So much that, his words stuck with him. And guided him. The knowledge planted in him during his childhood gradually unravelled itself during his adolescence and young adulthood spent in monasteries around the world to be educated by the finest men. Well, to say those endless weeks in The Ministry had no meaning to him was an overstatement. He had fond memories of those.

Now, though... Now that he watched his life slip between his fingers like sand, it seemed nothing else mattered. The knowledge he had been carefully curating, the path he had been slowly building, the ladder he had been patiently climbing — everything —, was shattered into a thousand pieces. Hell, he lost the Cardinal title he had achieved in the Clergy of Transylvania.

Who was he now?

Now that he stood outside the same greenhouse in which he had spent those periodic weeks of dying of boredom in The Ministry, he was a child again, so lost, so helpless, yearning for guidance. His right hand hovered above the rusty door knob, and memories flooded his mind.

"Uncle?"

Perpetua hesitantly walked inside of the greenhouse. His surroudings were dimly lit by scattered lanterns. Fire happily danced inside the glasses of the lanterns, and, for a brief moment, he envied them. His own light had been slowly dying, and he felt himself slipping inside the abyss of nothingness. Nonetheless, the warmness of the ambient engulfed him in a comfortable haze.

"Yes, son. I was expecting you."

His voice travelled amongst leaves and flowers in the thick air. Son. The word was velvety and lyrical. It was a hug Perpetua had unknowingly been yearning for, a hug he had never received from his mother or his father. Primo smiled when the child he had gladly welcomed under his wing appeared between the plants.

"I suppose you remember me, sì?"

"I do, yes. Of course I do," Perpetua promptly answered. There was a hint of desperation burried in his voice, Primo noticed, but Perpetua could not help himself. Could he, after all? That ancient man was the only certainty Perpetua had in his life now, the only rope he could hold on to for dear life inside the sinking ship that his life had turned into.

"How odd, sì?" Primo provoked.

Indeed, how odd. Somehow Perpetua had always been home, had always been... The people inside that monumental building had always been family. Although he would never admit it, in the dephts of his being, where the most ominous shadows lurked, Perpetua felt betrayed, stolen. Deceived.

"I understand, bambino."

He certainly did not understand, Perpetua wanted to shout at him. Of course he did not understand, but- It had always been that man, Primo. And it had always been that sensation, enthrallment. And, again, Perpetua felt a magnet pulling him towards Primo. And, thus, he stayed. He observed. He listened.

"It happened to me... And to your fratelli, either. Your father had been anointed Papa in 1969, but he failed in his duties. The Ghost Project, then, went into hibernation. I would never have imagined that someday I would be anointed Papa and become the frontman of the Ghost Project. You see," Primo chuckled, "I spent my adolescence and young adulthood in Transylvania."

"You-"

"I was the one responsible for your education there, son. Your mother wanted you to stay in Rome, but... The finest men have always been in Transylvania."

Perpetua blinked. And that was the only movement of his body.

"Anyway... I planned to stay there, of course. I had just been nominated Cardinal. The Clergy, however, thought differently, and I was brought here. It turned out they had been calculating my steps since the beginning. They wanted the Ghost Project to thrive, and I was their guinea pig."

"I- I, uncle... But, how- How did you do it? How am I supposed to do it?" Perpetua blurted out. "I should be writing an album now, but the words fail me. I am not the person for this. How am I even supposed to be the frontman of the Ghost Project? What if I suck as a musician? Never have I ever lost one class in musical theory, but... But I play the piano, the-"

"Son, you are the right person for this."

"How do you know that? What if the audience hates my work, hates me?"

Primo intently observed Perpetua, "What color are your eyes?"

Perpetua blinked again, confused, "Green... And white."

Primo nodded. The movement of his head was barely noticeable. "You have it in yourself. Believe me."

And his white eye eerily shone when he pronounced those words.

Oh, wow, I wrote this listening to the soundtrack of The Phantom Of The Opera, and my fingers were filled with angst. I hope you enjoyed!

[rosegoldenatlas]

Joel doing Joel things that Joel does.

A list of Joel doing Joel things that Joel does.

Not being affected by The Lore™

Insulting his audience within the first minute of the video

Insulting editor Joel

Going overboard with explosives

Hinting at making a cult apparently

Hating interiors

Being sus with men (its etho again)

Now a list of things Joel should bring back maybe.

Writing random words in sand while collecting it (he did this is Esmp s1)

Kill horses (just so Bdubs gets upset lol)

Jeremyism???? Please??? Could that be the cult?????

Thank you for listening to my ted talk

Edit; Joel kiss horses and he has murder mystery intros about it and he wrote something the the sand once. Still waiting for confirmed jeremyism tho..

[girzapata6]

More magma MC x OUAW AU + a funny story:

So, I hate the Soul Sand Valley biome SO MUCH. The skeletons are so fucking annoying. So, I decided to make a bridge or something to get the fuck outta there and find another biome (And potentially a Nether Fortress lol).

I dragged @playboybugbear along with me (If u ask, yes! We're still doing RP lol) so she could help me (And also for Shenanigan™). And when I get to the stairs of the bridge, I accidentally fell (Because I'm fucking stupid and miscalculated my steps)... Thankfully, my boots had Feather Falling IV and survived the fall (AND IT WAS A MIRACLE THAT I DIDN'T FALL ON LAVA LOL).

But, yeah, anyway, I fell, and tried to climb back up, but... A Ghast spawned. And KSJDKAKSKKD I TRIED TO HIDE BEHIND THE PILLAR (It was a 1 block pillar btw😭) LIKE JABDKAKSSJJDJS AND SOMEHOW IT WORKED?? THE GHAST DIDN'T IMMEDIATELY ATTACKED ME, BUT INSTEAD TRIED TO GO AROUND AND I WENT THE OTHER WAY SO IT WOULDN'T CATCH ME, AND IT WENT THE OTHER WAY AROUND AND I DID THE SAME AND AJJSKAKAKDKS 😭😭😭😭

I was basically playing Peekaboo with the fucking Ghast NSNSNDKKAKSS HELP

[rosapexa]

No one outside of Hansen's Barghest unit knew about them. And no one in this unit ever told anyone outside.

Lexa and Kurt hid their relationship the entire time, which of course meant they only could behave as a couple behind closed doors. Except in 2068, when Lexa was ordered to work with Kurt and his unit for a couple of months.

Which was also the time they fell for each other.

But it was not love at first sight or anything. They certainly did not like each other at first. And they definitely were not each other's type™.

Kurt Hansen knew Lexa Shaw was one the best and most dangerous Netrunners at Militech and she had combat training on top, which he could respect. But she was never in an actual combat or even outside of North America. So for him she was a nerd who only belonged into a cellar to do her shit, but not with him and his unit. Also on top he knew her father and because of that and her looks and how she behaved in a while he knew she was a spoiled corpo princess. And oh he let her know.

Lexa hated Kurt. She hated his attitude towards her, his character and basically everything. Maybe he was an exceptional soldier, but that only meant to her he had more muscles than braincells. And he was an asshole. Also something she would never admit was, that she was intimidated by the ruthlessness and straight cruelty Kurt and his Barghest showed. Lexa was while netrunning all these things herself, but for her at this point it was a difference between doing things in the net and doing and seeing things in person. So she did not want to be there at all. In the desert. With all this sand and dirt and heat and all these idiotic and cruel soldiers.

Actually that Lexa belonged in a nice cool and clean cellar to do her Netrunner things far away from Kurt, was the only thing they agreed on at first (which was at least something?).

But none of them had a choice and the more they spend time with each other, the more they liked each other...

Please note: These are my personal headcanons for my own Cyberpunk 2077 world. If you don't like it, just ignore it. But please don't be rude about it. Thank you!

I know i already posted a little lore photo story last week, but as usual i threw my original plans to share stuff about Lexa and Kurt out of the window. The thing from last week is still part of their canon story, but i decided i want to start even earlier with them. How they met first and fell in love.

Or maybe i will jump back and forth like in a really weird and confusing tv show. I think it might depend on what i feel i would like to make... So tbh it will be most likely jumping back and forth, because i couldn't do stuff in chronolical order, even if my life depended on it.

But let's treat this post as the "official" first post of this ship. Lexa's canon relationship from 2068 till 2075 (with breaks though), before Johnny and the events of the game were even a thing. And which will also make things even more complicated (and dramatic) with her beloved tapeworm in 2077.

[existennialmemes]

Sometimes there is no silver lining. Sometimes there is no upside. Sometimes truly terrible things happen and there are no positives at all.

I also think there's a very clear line in the sand between acknowledging the terrible reality and giving wholeheartedly into despair about it.

Getting alpha gal syndrome on top of my already existing Crohn's and other chronic illnesses is an absolute Bad Thing. There is no "bright side" and attempts to look for one just fill me with rage.

But also, I recognize that I have been through so many metaphorical rodeos with my health. I know I have a tool bag ready to go, and I will eventually get a handle on this new normal.

That isn't a "bright" side though. There's nothing good about the fact that I'm skilled at Being Sick. It's just another True Thing for me to sit with while I process my grief about this change.

It's True that this SUCKS and I HATE IT

It's also True that I will get used to it, and I will not feel This Way™ about it forever.

And that is my line between rejecting toxic positivity and resisting despair:

This is terrible, but I have the tools to navigate it

[tired-reader-writer]

A year and two months after the previous entry in this series, here I am with another one, at last!

This time it's Alfarīd. Regretfully I was only able to plan two for her (and her brother, but I haven't drawn him yet) but I tried my best with what I could manage! Her “casual” fit vs her “combat” fit, as I like to call it. Her dress and skirt don't necessarily have to be that color for her combat fit, any of her clothes could go under her armor, but I wanted to try making an alternate color scheme for my girl.

I tried to base her clothing on that of the Baloch people, as I headcanon the Zott to be Baloch like I briefly mentioned here. The headscarf is probably wrong, the reference photo I looked at definitely wasn't that of a Baloch woman, but I liked the look of it, so I'm allowing myself a little bit of creative liberty. I also decided to give her (and her brother as well as the rest of Zott) some armor, like, they're pretty powerful, aren't they? They take mercenary jobs from foreign countries, they attack large, wealthy caravans, so surely they would have the means to arm themselves properly?? Surely???? Good equipment will also make them better at what they do, right?????? It's not that I think the canon designs for her and her clan are bad, it's just that... I don't know. Their designs feel like Generic Fantasy Barbarians™. They could be a little more, y'know? Their design could be more. What's with the short sleeves and bare torsos, everybody? Y'all live in the desert. You wanna get skin cancer? NO. SENSIBLE CLOTHING FOR ALL OF YOU. NOW. (Also bc I've been kinda wondering about the Zott clan's culture, how they came to be, and their potential connection to Badakhshan, all in the context of my AU, and... I dunno, I just wanted to give them More™)

The armor is leather because I think they'd cook alive in metal armor in the desert heat, but then again leather is also known for being terrible to wear in the heat so I... don't know. I think it's still better than them having NO armor at ALL. Like guys. Come on now. Also the leather distinguishes them from the formal warriors and soldiers, visually. That played a part in me choosing this, as well.

If the colors are a bit strange on her, my apologies, but I tried to capture her vibes, but also I really. Kinda hated the shade of pink she was given in the anime. It kinda felt like she was given pink because she was the Girl bandit. Nope, we're giving her something else. The first is a sunny yellow which also to my eyes gave the impression of the sands + the green-blue being kinda like the oasis, as the Zott clan was said to hail from desert regions in the novel:

“The Zott were a bold and daring nomadic people who haunted the deserts and the rocklands, sometimes serving as mercenaries for various nations, sometimes engaging in banditry.”

(Book 2, Chapter Three, part iii)

And uhhhh just think of the pattern dotted on her dresses as cactus flowers or something. Something something blooming in adversity:

The cactus and cactus flower represent endurance, resilience, and strength due to their ability to stand the test of time against harsh conditions in the desert.

×

The cactus plant as well as particularly the yellow cactus flower represents heat, security and endurance. The cactus flower is an icon of maternal love due to the fact that it can withstand and also prosper in severe conditions.

×

Other meanings for the cactus flower:

- Protection from danger and threats

- Enduring all things, no matter how painful or difficult

- Warmth and care, especially from a mother to a child

These fit her quite well, don't you think? She is, to me, a protective force in her own right (particularly towards Etoile, who she tries to protect both in body and heart because she tries to stop them from rushing into danger for an unworthy king, she stops them from spiralling into a self-blame frenzy by telling them to go find the survivors when Etoile finds Innocentis dead) and I think it feels fitting that she's associated with endurance. We don't know a whole lot about her life, aside from the fact that she was a bandit, she was favored by her father (but he still beat her, the fucking bastard), she had (still has) command and sway over her clan. But I doubt she grew up sheltered. She's already a leader at her age, and that kind of thing doesn't come from someone who wasn't forged into it. Also, being a child of Haltash with all that entailed should qualify her an endurance medal or something. Bastard.

I don't necessarily see her as maternal, nor associate her with motherhood in my mind, BUT it. How do I put it. She'd be really good with kids, I think. Also she mentions babysitting Zott kids and caring for them and that's how she knew how to soothe a fussy baby... so. Sure. There. That counts because I say so. Maybe in the future of the AU she and Ashaya might take in some kid that strayed their way. (Ashaya would need to mature first though because uhhhhh *gestures at their whole thing* y'know.) Or alternatively the couple just ends up every kid's favorite aunt or something. Close enough. I haven't really thought about this one. Maternal or not, though, I do think “warmth and care” are qualities that she possesses in spades.

Those two animals on her dress are gazelles!

In various cultures, the gazelle symbolizes beauty, grace, speed, and agility. It's also associated with feminine beauty, love, and even a connection to the divine in some contexts, particularly in Arabic and Persian literature and ancient Egyptian art. Gazelles can also represent adaptability and perseverance due to their ability to navigate tough terrain.

×

The Gazelle is often seen as a symbol of grace, elegance, and agility. They are known for their ability to swiftly navigate through challenges and obstacles in life, emphasizing the importance of adaptability and quick thinking. In many cultures, the Gazelle is also associated with beauty, sensitivity, and intuition.

×

Gazelles can represent consciousness, swiftness, elegance, beauty, and liveliness. They are able to maneuver in vertical movements and even meander around while they run to escape their predators.

Alfarīd, as an official (according to me) member of the acrobats club among the cast, is pretty dang agile, wouldn't you think? She dodges Hilmes' strikes in their first encounter. She's the one who responded the quickest to Narsus' alarm during the hunting ground debacle. And while she may not necessarily be the kind of beauty Farangis is, but I do think she is very beautiful. I think of her and only half a heartbeat later I associate her in my mind with beauty. I'm not making sense rn but yeah. Also in the context of the AU she's Ashaya's love interest and... Ashaya finds her very pretty, indeed. The “love” aspect also, I was thinking of their relationship while I was drawing these. And I think she's persevered through a lot. I don't know, I just think gazelles fit her quite well, what do you guys think?

I don't think it's recognizable but I did also put saltwort on her dress embroidery:

Saltwort, a plant that thrives in salty environments, symbolizes endurance, resilience, and survival in harsh conditions.

Sounds about right, yeah?

Gazelles and saltwort can also be found in... fuck, which desert was it. It was one of the ones in Iran. Uhhhh I think it was Dasht-e Naomid? I'm not sure though because I was trying to look around for deserts in Iran and their flora/fauna for symbolism purpose and... couldn't find much, had to scrounge up what I did find, and. So. Here.

I also put little suns on the hems of her yellow dress. I don't have any fancy quotes for this, I just think she's like the sun in many ways.

Not much in terms of symbolism for the second design, just some rambling. I ended up going with that shade of green, as I found the other shades I tried to be too... they were too cool-toned and I thought that wouldn't fit her, so I tried to skew towards a warmer hue here. I do like that aspect of her canon design, so I decided that it could stay. The headscarf stayed the same color to show that what she has on her head for combat is usually just the same as what she tends to wear for her casual fits, just tied up so that it doesn't fly off her head. It also can be any color she likes.

I tried to give her some ✨bling✨ for both designs. I mean, they gotta have some nice shinies from what they took, right? My girl gotta have some neat accessories. She wears some of those to battle too so long as it doesn't get in the way of her armor. I forgot to draw her earrings for the second design, fuck.

As for the designs on the metal bits, one's a star (I do also sometimes think of her as a star so...) and the other's taken from her crest as shown on the Arslan Senki site:

(though the drawing was too small for me to add those little details surrounding the arrows... well, close enough. I don't even know if she'd realistically have an individual crest of her own as she is not nobility or anything, but maybe as the daughter of the chief... or maybe she just likes the look of it. I thought long and hard about what I could put there, what the symbol to represent the Zott could possibly be— the black flag that Arslan gave them only became their banner from that point on, after all, so what came before?— before I just ran out of ideas and decided to go for this instead.)

OH and that's a scorpion on her belt. A symbol that her girlfriend also shares, I talked about it in Ashaya's design sheet here (she was named Ranna back then, don't worry about it).

I also tried to kinda take inspiration from Baloch embroidery for the designs on her clothes as they're known for it:

I think you can spot which aspects I took and such! Thanks for reading this, y'all.

The AU character design sheet saga so far:

Khazān (Kazai, OC) | Shapur | Shapur re-redesigned | Ashaya (Ranna, OC) | Arslan (I called the AU version Areyan back then, a decision I have since reverted) | Isfan | Isfan re-redesigned | Farangis | Gieve | Alfarīd (you are here!)

[a-lonely-dunedain]

the "platonic explanation" is that I feel like shipping cheapens a perfectly good friendship and turns it into something shallow. Takes something that could have been interesting and turns it into just another dime-a-dozen romance you can find in a million other stories. Sands off anything cool or unique about the relationship and the characters so they can slot neatly into some little "A and B" dynamic. The Sunshine x Grumpy the Blue-coded x Red-coded the Cinnamon Roll x Killer. You just have to cut them down to fit in the Romance Box™.

Suddenly every interaction, every look they exchange, every word they speak, has to be seen through the lens of attraction, it HAS to be about the attraction, nothing else matters, they cannot have feelings about each other unrelated to that. If they like each other it's because they are attracted to each other, if they hate each other it's because they are attracted to each other, there can be no other reason behind their actions and feelings, nothing else about them as people matters anymore. They aren't people anymore, they aren't characters anymore, they are just "A and B".

The "platonic explanation" is that lately I've just found friendships SO much more compelling and freeing and cool, y'know? (obligatory ''I'm not bashing you if you like shipping I just Do Not Get It Personally'')

[confused-much]

I've just rewatched Revenge of the Sith for like a 5th time and you know what annoys me the most?

That some people think Anakin is the most tragic character of Star Wars.

Like, yeah he was a slave and his mother was killed but most of his other suffering was his own doing.

HE killed the Jedi, including kids (as he did sand people).

HE decided to get married to Padme despite his problem with attachments and hide it from the Order.

HE decided to save Palpatine for his own gain.

HE choked Padme!!! The woman he supposedly loved and couldn't live without!!!

HE chose to fight Obi-Wan and even when Obi-Wan told him it's over, he still chose to attack him.

Most of his suffering was self inflicted and seriously, I don't even feel sorry for him. He deliberately chose to allign himself with a literal Sith Lord just because he wanted to save Padme. And while yes, I could understand the sentiment, he did it selfishly ("I can't live without her!" he screams at Windu before cutting his hand.

When he tells Padme about his dreams, she asked what about their child and he doesn't care about it, he only cares about Padme because HE cannot leave without her, screw her feelings or thoughts on that matter), dooming all of the Republic, not even thinking about other alternatives before.

So no, I don't think Anakin is the most tragic character. But you know who I think is?

Obi-Wan

In a span of a short time he:

- was betrayed by the men he was fighting with for the whole war

- lost his home and family

- had to fight the person he considered his brother

- became a hunted down man

- was betrayed by the person he considered his brother (who also killed kids)

- was forced to go into exile to Tatooine and spend his time alone, guarding Luke, a son of the person who was directly responsible for all of his suffering

- he lost Padme who he valued as a good friend

And before that he also:

- lost his master after said master was ready to throw him away for the Chosen One™ (I hate Qui Gon with passion)

- lost a woman he loved (killed by the same man who killed his master)

And somehow, Obi-Wan till the end was loyal to Jedi teachings and never went to the dark side. And, guess what, none of the points above were his doing! He got dealt with shitty hand all the time and yet he still endured it and still had faith!

Man, I love Obi-Wan.

[chaoticinkblot]

Her War

A story I couldn’t stop thinking about, so now it lives here rent-free.

Summary: She was a name lost to silence. A ghost to the Scouts, a threat to the world beyond the Walls. Years ago, she vanished without a trace—now she’s returned, with secrets carved deep into her bones and a

Titan burning beneath her skin.

No one remembers what she fought through.

No one knows where she’s been.

Warnings ⚠️ inconsistent word counts (like pls don’t expect chapter equality) ⚠️ may contain emotional damage™ ⚠️ timeline bending + lore edits ⚠️ purely for my delulu peace of mind ⚠️ read it, love it, or ignore it—just don’t judge me okay thx <3 Character Info | CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 3 | CH. 4

Chapter 1: Shoreline of Solitude

The waves lapped against the shore with a gentle rhythm, their song soft under the vast, moonlit sky. Salt clung to Akira's lashes, her breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts as her knees sank into the cold, damp sand of Paradis’ coast.

She was finally home. But it didn’t feel like it.

Her fingers dug into the grainy shore, trembling. The scent of the sea, once comforting, now felt foreign—like she had no right to breathe it. The stars above blurred in her vision, not from clouds, but from the tears she didn’t want to acknowledge.

How long had it been?

Years since she last stepped on this soil.

The small fishing boat she’d commandeered drifted back out into the dark sea, a ghost of the route she took to return—a path that could no longer be traced, no longer mattered.

She was here. Alone, but here.

Akira wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then stood, wavering on shaky legs. The cloak she wore billowed in the breeze, weighed down with salt and blood—some hers, most not. Her muscles ached with exhaustion, and still she forced her body into motion. Her return couldn't be announced. She had to move, and fast.

The walls were miles away. She could see the outline of their towering silhouettes against the night sky, and though there were no fires or lights visible, she knew Titans still roamed the outer terrain. But at night, they were sluggish… predictable. It gave her a narrow window to slip past them.

Her instincts guided her through the darkness—sharp eyes scanning the shadows, ears attuned to the faintest groan of a distant Titan. The pain in her limbs blurred into nothingness as survival took over.

She barely remembered the run. Only the sound of her heartbeat. The cold. The numbness.

By the time she reached the half-collapsed outpost tucked near the base of Wall Maria, her legs nearly gave out. It wasn’t much—just a ruined shack that once served as a patrol station—but it was shelter. It was enough.

She kicked the door open gently, sword still drawn, eyes scanning the corners. Empty.

Safe.

Akira closed the door behind her, dropped her satchel, and slumped against the wall. Her breath came in shallow bursts now, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind only hollow fatigue.

Her hands fumbled through her bag. A single loaf of hard bread. A small piece of jerky. And a waterskin filled with stale, lukewarm water. It didn’t matter. She devoured it all, almost like a child who hadn’t eaten in days.

Then, she wept.

The tears came suddenly, silently. Her shoulders trembled. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she sat curled by the corner of the shack, knees tucked to her chest.

She wasn’t supposed to cry. She had survived too much to fall apart now. And yet…

Home. She was home. But not the same. And maybe not even welcome.

Would they recognize her?

Would they hate her?

She’d changed.  She was something else now. Tainted.

She didn't ask for it.

She didn't want it.

But she couldn’t let someone else bear it, either. Not Marley. Not Paradis.

That burden was hers. And it was eating her alive.

She leaned back against the wall, staring at the cracked ceiling above her, the sobs long gone but their echo still heavy in the room. And in the quiet that followed, a single thought pulsed through her mind.

You made it back. Now what? ---------

The wind that howled outside had softened into a morning breeze. Thin rays of light filtered through the cracks in the shack’s decaying roof, casting faint beams across the dusty floor.

Akira stirred, rising from a troubled sleep, stiff and sore from the cold.

Her cloak doubled as a blanket, her boots still damp with saltwater. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, not fully—but exhaustion had swallowed her whole.

Akira sat up, rubbing the stiffness from her neck. Her mind was clearer now, though the ache in her chest lingered. The night before had been a breaking point—but she hadn’t come this far to unravel. Not yet.

Today, she had a purpose.

Her gear was minimal. No ODM equipment, no blades. Just her cloak, scavenged clothes, a satchel with essentials, and a makeshift dagger. It would have to be enough.

She opened the door slowly, peering outside. The coast behind her was still and silent. No Titans in sight. Good.

Akira pulled the hood of her cloak over her white hair and set off, heading inland toward the outer settlements. If she could blend in, gather scraps of news—maybe someone would know where the Survey Corps was stationed.

But she couldn’t let anyone recognize her. If even a whisper of her return reached the wrong ears—especially from someone within the Military Police or Garrison—it could end everything.

Days slipped by before Akira stood at last before the towering walls of Rose.

She passed through a scattered cluster of ruins before reaching the edge of a small village nestled in the shadows of Wall Rose. She stayed to the edges, avoiding main roads. The village wasn’t completely abandoned, but it was quiet. Scarred by years of war and Titan attacks, the people were weary—distracted by survival. That worked in her favor.

From behind crates and half-collapsed alley walls, she listened.

Talk of the Scouts filtered through the air in low voices.

“You hear about the Scout Regiment? Word is they’re prepping for something big.”

“Yeah. I heard they’ve set up  in that old abandoned castle in the Trost District.”

“Figures. Crazy enough to use a broken-down fortress as a base… but if anyone’s gonna do it, it’s them.”

Trost District. Akira remembered it well. A heavily fortified area on Wall Rose, now home to the Survey Corps. Close to where she once trained—close to where she vanished.

She clenched her jaw. So that’s where they are.

She ducked behind a crumbled stone wall, letting herself exhale. Her heart raced, not from fear—but uncertainty.

Would they recognize her?

Would they welcome her?

Do they think I’m dead?

She gripped the edge of the wall tightly, her knuckles whitening.

Part of her wanted to run to them. To be seen. To hear their voices again. But the other part—the stronger, colder part—told her to wait. To watch. To plan.

She couldn’t show herself without understanding the risks.

Not until she was sure.

You’ve been gone for years, she reminded herself. You’re not the same girl they once knew.

Even now, her hands still shook sometimes—phantom echoes of the power she now carried.

And they didn’t know.

No one did.

She sank to her knees behind the wall, back pressed against the stone, and stared up at the hazy sky. Her mind spun with questions.

What would they say? What would they see when they looked at her?

Would they still call her comrade?

Or would they call her monster?

She didn’t have the answers. Not yet.

But she had a direction. A name. A place.

Trost District. The old castle.

She stood slowly, brushing dust from her knees, and slipped away from the village like a whisper.

She had a path now. She just had to be brave enough to walk it.

---------

Morning came, painting the Trost skyline in soft gold. The streets below her small attic room slowly filled with merchants setting up stalls, soldiers on patrol, and children running past with loaves of bread and half-tied shoelaces.

Akira stood before the dusty mirror nailed crookedly to the wall, staring at her own reflection like it was a stranger.

Her white hair had grown longer than she remembered, tied loosely at the nape. She tugged her scarf up to hide the mess of emotion sitting too openly on her face.

Today was the day.

Probably.

Maybe.

Possibly.

She opened the door and stepped outside, the morning breeze tousling her white hair as the forest came alive around her. Birds chirped in the canopy, and somewhere nearby, a brook gurgled quietly. The peace felt foreign—but not unwelcome.

She moved with purpose now, weaving through the crowd until she found the outskirts of the village. There, nestled by the stables, was a familiar sound: soft nickering and the heavy shuffle of hooves on straw.

Akira approached carefully.

A stable hand glanced up as she entered. “You lookin’ for a horse?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “Something fast and quiet.”

The man nodded. “White one in the back might suit you. Not many like her—spirited, but loyal. Doesn’t let just anyone near her.”

Intrigued, Akira followed him to the far stall.

There she stood—a beautiful white mare with alert eyes and a proud stance. The horse met her gaze directly.

“Perfect,” Akira whispered, stepping closer. She held out a hand.

The mare snorted softly, but didn’t retreat.

“Guess we’re both a little lost, huh?”

As she saddled the horse, another villager passing by squinted at her. “Hey… you were at that training camp years ago, right? You cheered us on during the drills. You—you’re not from around here, are you?”

Akira smiled faintly, not confirming or denying. “I pass through.”

The villager nodded slowly. “Well, good luck. Something tells me you’ve got a long road ahead.”

If only you knew.

---------

As Trost’s walls came into view later that day, Akira’s heart began to race.

She slowed the mare—Hikari, she decided to name her—and stopped beneath a shaded grove just before the road widened.

Beyond the trees stood the old stone castle, silhouetted by the sun. It looked the same… and yet completely different.

Her mind spiraled.

"Okay, what am I even going to say?"

"Hey, I’m back." She cringed. Too blunt.

"Yo! Wassup? ‘Tis me—Akira!" She immediately regretted it. No, no, that sounds like a drunk potato just rolled up to headquarters.

"Missed me?" …Yeah, let’s not start with emotional manipulation.

"Hi. Sorry I vanished for years without a word. Had to fake my death, infiltrate enemy territory, accidentally become a Titan, and commit treason. What’s new with you?"

She slapped her forehead, letting out a strangled groan.

“This is a disaster,” she muttered under her breath. “I survived Marley, titans, and military camps—and this is what’s breaking me?”

She tried one more time.

“Erwin. Levi. Hange. It’s me… I came back.”

A long pause.

“Ugh, why do I sound like I’m in a soap opera?”

Still, a small smile tugged at her lips. The absurdity of it helped.

She didn’t know how today would go. She didn’t even know if she’d actually go through with it. But for a brief moment, the weight in her chest felt a little lighter.

“You know what? Screw it,” she said aloud, a grin tugging at her lips. “I’ll go there. No plan.

No perfect words. Just me.”

She patted Hikari’s neck.

“If they cast me out... fine. I’ve been through worse.”

The wind rustled the leaves, and somewhere far off, a bell rang faintly within the district.

Akira took one last breath and clicked her tongue, urging Hikari forward.

No more hiding. No more running.

The next chapter of her story was waiting.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :

SO… she’s back 😭 Did it feel mysterious enough? Did you feel the vibes™??

anyways, Part 2??

[milk-ducts]

I'm so glad to have encountered a fellow Cecil stan. I freaking love coming up with headcanons for Cecil, platonic or romantic, because he's such an interesting character. For real though feel free to dump any Cecil headcanons (platonic or romantic) on me anytime.

AWAAAA!! YES HAII OTHER CECIL AFICIONADO !!! im so glad theres more of us sprouting out here. my wife is so underappreciated, you have no idea how much he means to me. i'd love to req n swap headcanons anytime !! I have so many thoughts on that morally ambiguous gilf.

[messy, disorganized surface level autism rambling ahead. this will be just random scenes and characteristics i like of him]

BUT YES .. cecil's character is just so interesting to analyze. he does unethical, necessary things. But he doesn't subscribe to idealistic notions of "the greater good" or justifying his actions to make himself sleep better at night. He knows the harsh reality that someone has to make the difficult decisions, no matter how unethical. The psychological toll it takes to calculate how many civilian lives can be spared, and how many are inevitably lost in order to achieve the optimal outcome. He doesn't celebrate after victories like the other heroes do. After the dust settles, his mind is already racing - calculating, strategizing how to prevent future catastrophes. How to minimize casualties next time.

his methods are...questionable,, as ive said,, but there's a hint of nobility to it that just makes you respect him, A SHADY GOVERNMENT CHAR that does the dirty work and takes in all the heat for it so no one else has to? SIGN ME TF UP! i love exploring his character and all the little glimpses of humanity we get to see from him,, especially with debbie, SO SOFT FOR HER, there's so much depth there. that old fuck would MOVE mountains for her if he could,, TRUST. EVEN though he doesnt deserve her .. <<

LETS CONTINUE TO CIRCLE BACK TO S1 with his confrontation w Nolan in the desert, the way he entrusted his survival to the skills of his team operating that teleporter watch (I'm aware he can control it himself, I think this was just my interpretation of it since the employees seemed directly involved here). The margin for error was nonexistent. One miscalculation, one millisecond too slow, and Cecil would have been reduced to a red smear across miles of sand. MY WIFE HAS BALLS ON HIM. (also love walton goggins breathy lil giggles here .. hwaghffhh)

All this, All the whilst Nolan could have ended him with a casual backhand, as easily as swatting a fly. And for what? For humanity's (mostly his) right to know the truth. For Debbie's right to understand what she had truly married because Cecil respects her that fucking much for her to have a part in all of this, and what fate may lay in store for her son.

AND what I particularly liked about that scene is that unlike most SHADY GOV CHARS ™.. Cecil isn't afraid to regularly place himself in life-threatening situations, and for that im just.. FKING obsessed. finally. a hyper competent gov char that gets shit done and occasionally by his own hands instead of always puppeteering in the shadows. Love u .. love u honey snooch, please stop putting yourself in danger for your crazy alien side-hoes .

but ahem ... back to s2.. and some flaws of his that i'm not afraid to point out. the way he's been treating mark is killing me. manipulating my son by comparing him to his dad then keeping him on lock by saying he's not like him??? The breadcrumming definitely didn't work out at all, cuz Mark is too damn stubborn to continue to be swindled by fear tactics he does not give a shit for anymore (homegirl DEBBIE taught him better) hes not gonna listen to a cranky skullet-having side bitch of nolans who clearly has been tryna manipulate him since s1. i HATED how he went "ur broke tyrannical bitch father felt the same way" in the last minute when mark tried to leave earth and yet i still lobve ceci cause ough,,.. my bastard wife knew something was probably up.

Him wanting to keep a short leash on MARKY could be summed up after all that has happened in s1. i'm not going to justify his scummy manipulations or paranoia,, especially after all the shit mark has done and endured to prove himself over and over again that he's not like his father BUT its somewhat understandable for cecil 2 be wary if you look from it in his perspective.

moving on from that, lets dive back into ep 2 ..

Debbie was semi-right in her deduction in s2 ep2, that this is what it's really all about for Cecil - being in control. Not of any situation, but of Mark. To ensure history does not repeat itself in the form of Mark becoming another Nolan. imo He likely doesn’t actually view Mark as his father, Not saying the possibility of it being a part of Cecil's subconsciousness is out of the equation but the way I see it? He was just exploiting that one weakness, that one insecurity Mark has - the fear of becoming like Nolan. And it’s a fear Cecil seemed to prey upon to keep Mark under his thumb and in the fucking GAME.

awaaaa :3 !!!! psychologically damaging teens by comparing them to their abhorrently shitty fathers !! FUCK YOJ STEDMAN (love you snookums..)

,,,,I'd also like to think in my warped deluded perception (aka hcs) that he sees Debbie in Mark, so he can't help but care for the kid too. IVE ALWAYS seen a lot of comparisons between Mark and his dad, plus the whole motif of this new season hasn't helped it allay. But Debbie and Mark share so many similar characteristics as well and i wish that was talked a bit more often &lt; 3 (I will go in depth about it at a later post.)

n umm like ...,,, bck to cici in gen. I guess the safety of earth is one of Cecil's redeeming qualities along with his compassion for side characters like Debbie. His pragmatism and utilitarianism define him. He lacks normal morals but has his own code that cultivates to his character. this ramble could not do justice to him ughfglg..,, what a compelling jezebel.. how can u captivate me so !!

My inbox is always open to discuss this multi-faceted rat man. here's to more cecil content in s2..,... hopefully with more of his dynamic with Debbie because I LIVE for that shit. though its unlikely their interactions could range to anything positive now since they may be hinting to cecil becoming an antagonist and/or taking extreme measures w/ mark. soo.. i dont think debbie's scolding was enough for that slut 2 take in ..

in the mean time i'll be catching up on the comics/re-reading them, look up more of his backstory and hopefully create 10 novels worth of google docs of analysis' of his character < 3 cuz .. he means .. that much 2 me.. and i want to prod at every crevice n brain matter he has inside that megamind head of his .

((hwaghhhhhh << hoping that one day the discord moots ive been keeping in my basement and most invincible fans fall victim to cecil stedman propoganda.. no one should be immune to my girlboss and his awful skullet.))

[bucketspammer4life]

mr sandman headcanons

what if sandman didnt sand me a man, what would happen??

Has a very bad pollen allergy, cannot go out in spring without a mask unless he wants to suffer the wrath of particles™

HATES the ref, has beef with him and will always give him a nasty side-eye whenever he passes him by.

Doesn't speak much with any of the boxers outside of work, usually texts them to check up on them after winning a match against them, occassionally go out with some of the boxers.

Likes hanging out with King Hippo, finds him down-to-earth and nice to chat with.

Cannot sleep unless he takes melatonin, has pretty bad insomnia.

Dressed up as himself for halloween once after he didn't have any ideas for a good costume, it was just his usual attire + a picture of himself taped to his face.

Sleeps like a corpse, it's almost impossible to figure out if he's turned to stone or is just in deep sleep until the morning.

Joe's absolutely terrified of him and he has no idea, he just assumes joe's shy.

Loves weighed blankets.

[psychdiarys]

My problem with the execution of BostonNick's storyline

As happy as BostonNick's scenes make me & as well as NeoMark are performing, I can't help but feel that their story is like a puzzle with missing pieces. And it's always us viewers who have to fill in the gaps because they can't give them enough airtime to flesh out their storyline better.

Their scenes often feel cut short to me especially in the last couple of episodes? I've started to feel some noticeable gaps in the plot between one Boston and Nick scene and the next.

For example, when Nick goes to talk to Boston at the Halloween party in episode 8? We find out that Boston knew it was Nick who tipped Mew off about Gap. That entire segment felt off to me cause why would Nick even do Boston dirty like that after claiming he doesn't want to hurt him? And then why would he go & talk to him all casually after betraying him twice? Plus it would seem as if Boston totally hates Nick's guts now if not for the scene where he's sadly looking at Nick & his photos together. That one SINGULAR moment of him looking at their photos while day-drinking was literally all we had to indicate that Boston liked Nick too.

In episode 10, we jump straight from the repair shop scene to the rooftop scene, which felt so? Abrupt? Like as MUCH as I loved that scene, I felt like it came out of nowhere? One second Nick is flirting with Dan & giving him permission to hit on him, then Boston walks in with The Lockscreen™ & we straight up jump to Nick going over to see Boston at the rooftop. Like WE had to assume that Nick realised he can't stop loving Boston even though he has the option to be with Dan & that's why he decides to go back to him. But if you don't put that together, you'd be confused why Nick went to Ton after the whole speech he gave in the previous ep & after trying to move on with Dan? I just wish they'd SHOWED us a scene of Nick feeling torn between Dan & Ton? I wish there was a scene of him looking at the lockscreen in contemplation when Dan calls him to come see him or something, but Nick decides to ditch him to go see Ton? IDK something to fill in the gaps?

And the way Boston himself approached Nick at the shop hinting that he wants him back with the lockscreen, but the next second at the rooftop, he's asking Nick why he came there? Like? Bro you WANTED him to come? What happened in between for him to suddenly change his demeanor?

And now in the scene with Atom in episode 11, Boston mentioned something about Atom starting an anonymous account to expose Boston — WHICH CAME OUT OF NOWHERE? Like what do you mean Atom started an expose page? Why is nobody talking about this? How come Cheum didn't even get mad at her brother for framing Ton & falsely exposing him on the internet? If there's a rumor like that floating about Ton on the internet, isn't that going to cause problems for him with his dad?

Speaking of dad, what exactly is the issue between Boston & his dad? Like WE assumed Boston's dad might be homophobic but they never actually address this in canon. Why was Boston so scared of his dad finding out about his private life (other than the fact that NOBODY would want their parent to see a sex tape of them). But Boston's dad seemed to know he sleeps around & doesn't get serious with anyone? So what exactly is the issue? Why can't we get more background on Boston? We know his parents are divorced & his dad is a politician but we have no idea how he feels about any of this (except for our own assumptions).

AND NICK for that matter? Like we have no idea why he is so messed up. We know all about Ray's alcoholism & what prompted it. We know all about Sand's financial issues, familial issues, & ex-bf issues. We know about Top's trauma & how it affects him, and we know Mew was betrayed & cheated on which is why he started acting insane. But Nick? He's been insane since DAY 1 & we have noooo clue why? All we know about his past is that he used to have curly hair.

And this is not a jab at any of the other characters cause I'm invested in ALL the storylines. But this show is supposed to have 6 main characters, so why have BostonNick started to feel like a side couple? And with a storyline as complex as theirs, why are their scenes so limited & short? I just wish we didn't have to depend so much on our interpretations to understand BostonNick.

[absolutelyarealperson]

I'm having thoughts™ about SandRay again.

I think their "fatal flaws" so to speak are complete opposites.

Ray is always thinking of himself AND he fucking hates himself. It's like he can't forget himself for a second and he's sick of it, sick of himself, thinks he's a waste of space because the SPACE he takes in his own life is so large. He's constantly trying to erase himself and the more he tries the worse he fails.

Sand loves himself, he just doesn't *value* himself. When his needs and another persons needs are in conflict, he completely forgets himself. He's never trying to erase himself, but he just does.