#((rewrote some things

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[nebuladreamz]

The voices are loud and I am WEAK

[magnusbae]

Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

+++

Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

▾▾▾

"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man. 

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again. 

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

[buttercupshands]

Chapter 419 Analysis or "How to completely break Tenko Shimura" a manipulative guide from All For One (part 1)

This is mainly a character analysis of Shigaraki Tomura or Shimura Tenko, any other character present is there to help.

Chapter 419 was hard to comprehend even with just summaries right on April 4th. Some things need at least fan translation to fully make sense. Or just hurt more in that matter.

Warning of spoilers to the whole manga to the point of chapter 419! All of the warnings from the respective Tomura chapters are applicable.

So like... mentions of death, killing other people, manipulation, emotional abuse and many more!

This is Part 1 - See Part 2 for something less depressing

This is going to be long! So let's start, shall we?

First of all we'll need to take into understanding ALL the chapters that we'll need to remember/reread just make this chapter worse (skip if already familiar with them):

Chapter 222 - Tomura Shigaraki: Distortion

Chapter 234 - Destruction Sense

Chapter 235 - Tenko Shimura: Origins

Chapter 236 - Tenko Shimura Origins, Part 2

Chapter 237 - Tomura Shigaraki: Origins

This is your "Tenko and Tomura understanding" starter pack, basically. Without them it's harder to even start unpacking what just happened with Tomura's perspective in mind

Well then.

The chapter starts and we are immediately greeted by AFO semi-agreeing without wanting to, that Tomura was strong enough before Izuku started trying "saving" him in his own way and even succeeded making Tenko's will all the more fragile than it was when he returned using his hate to his advantage.

Even after Izuku holding Tenko's hands for the whole chapter he was still stubborn enough to continue even without that hate in his heart

And the thing that initial summaries missed was the fact that Tomura actually reacted to AFO reapperance.

Still not understanding why AFO was even saying that.

Tenko was literally taught by AFO to follow "what he wants" in ch 237 with Tenko making his first decision to kill someone himself. And never actually hiding that Tomura just needed to never forget that hatred and those bad emotions that Tomura never really understood. And it took Izuku seconds to decipher them.

With AFO reassuring Tomura that he has no need in following morals of society and just should follow whatever he wants - his want to destroy everything that hurts him. And only AFO would accept and help him. He was constantly reminded of that.

Even if Tenko was feeling sick from killing at first, even if hands that he wore were still making him sick 15 years later without him understanding anything. Decisions made while person is emotional are usually the ones that the person might regret the most and Tomura lived with those unstable emotions for years. Knowing that they hurt him and make him feel sick.

But Sensei said that it's okay to follow those emotions. That's it's actually great that he does it.

Everything was for his sake, everything was for Tomura Shigaraki and Tomura Shigaraki only. He was his Sensei's successor and no one should argue with it. He's the only one to be next ruler of the underground and the next king. And Tomura gladly accepted that as truth.

Since it was easier than facing his guilt.

Because AFO just needed Tomura to have enough willpower to get OFA when the plan is ready. To make Gigantomachia to follow him while Garaki was watching knowing full well how the plan is going. Both knowing full well that Tomura is still holding himself back.

In this chapter however we finally see how all of the things AFO told and taught Tenko were just to make him so sure that HE was in control and allowed to do whatever he wants to completely break his worldview in the end "after he gets OFA" which is an unreachable goal now since OFA is gone for good.

By just saying that Tenko never had any choice to begin with.

Tomura already knew that AFO manipulated him and he was just a pawn, needed only to get OFA and piss off All-Might he accepted and embraced it as something unimportant. It was his choice and he was free to do it and not feel bad about it. Since he's born to destroy.

Until suddenly it wasn't just his life after Decay that was manipulated.

But his whole life from birth. Just because AFO didn't get his hands on Hana sooner and she was happy while AFO needed someone hurt and broken. And Shimura's household wasn't as bad as he needed it to be at first with Kotaro loving his children, wife, in-laws and even his mother.

And AFO destroyed it by creating so much conflict and even going out of his way to make sure Tenko's father knew that he was playing heroes with some kids. And even saved them by putting his own quirkless life in danger.

In some sense narrator-Tomura's words at the end of ch 236 still might hold true. AFO didn't just create his hate out of nowhere, to make it feel like even if Tenko remembers everything it's still he's doing not a villain appearing, not just some accident that it actually was.

Although AFO doesn't say anything about people who didn't help Tenko even though he he knew that it happened so he most probably was watching it happen until Tenko lost all hope entirely to finaly make him dependent on his help.

And he succeeded for the most part.

Tomura was making an assumption after he remembered everything that he "must've been yearning for that" and from that point onwards explains everything that happened as "I wanted it - I did it" and was clinging to it like a lifeline to explain everything.

He accepted that if Re-Destro is talking about his Decay quirk affecting him he exists only to destroy.

And now it seems he found a false motivation for himself that AFO created by cruely manipulating everything from his quirk to his family. Making him believe he had a hand in it. Breaking one of "safe" truths that Tomura never doubted. They only made his decisions feel right.

Which makes that a hopeless loop of broken memories being staged just to let Tenko become Tomura who hates and destroys everything believing that it's his choice. Only choice at that.

And if destroying is him only choice because of his quirk... then what can a quirkless person do while having so many people dead from his own hands? Hands that were literally cursed to have destruction quirk in them not because he was born to do it. But because his own Sensei wanted that.

And he's "unwavering heart" is now nothing but an illusion that was destroyed by both Izuku and AFO together.

There's no "Can I be a Hero?", because can he even be a Villain if most of the choices that were from Decay and the hatred in his heart weren't actually his own?

[beaulesbian]

It's time to rewrite this story.

[pain-in-the-butler]

Like a week ago someone sent me an ask requesting I rank the Seb VAs/actors and I started going hard with it, but it’s been so long that maybe I should just answer without the big explanation for each lol? Sorry anon

[quinn-pop]

shoutout to that one mtdd confession comic i drew last year that i never posted because uhh

it was unscripted so the ideas were pretty disjointed and it showed a lot. anyway:

[exy-shmexy]

One day, Neil asks Matt if he can borrow his truck for a few days (Andrew is not happy about not taking the Maserati but can he really say no to Neil when the redhead asks for his opinion with the literal sun glinting out of his eyes? Absolutely not). Matt is more than happy to say yes.

Neil and Andrew both take turns driving to the middle of absolutely nowhere. They are lucky enough the sky is clear and Neil is practically bouncing with excitement during the whole drive. They arrive at their selected location several hours away from Palmetto at sunset when the sky is painted in various hues of fiery oranges, reds and yellows as the sun sinks behind hills.

Neil takes out the sandwiches he had packed in a freezer bag and hands one to Andrew who had been spreading an excessive amount of blankets and pillows in the bed of the truck in the meantime. Andrew scowls because they are probably going to get crumbs everywhere in the blankets but Neil is grinning and Andrew wants to kiss him right here and then so he hauls Neil up in the truck next to him and he kisses him. Neil is all too happy to kiss him back for a while until they get interrupted by Andrew’s traitorous stomach making itself known. Neil laughs at it quietly but they have their dinner as the night slowly settles above them.

It’s strangely nice. There is not a sound except for the nocturnal insects occasionally chirping around them. Andrew tells himself they are about to become a mosquito feast but then he turns around to look at Neil and Neil looks just so… peaceful. He has his arms crossed behind his head, his eyes to the sky.

Neil feels his stare on him and then launches into a story of sleeping under the stars with his mom somewhere in the French countryside. His tone turns melancholic, and when Andrew reaches out with his hand, Neil immediately grabs it and squeezes gently. “I’m happy to be here with you, ’Drew” Neil murmurs, and Andrew’s heart stutters in his chest.

The stars are now blinking bright above them. Neil points at a shooting star, but Andrew is too busy watching Neil. He misses it, but it was worth. Neil’s face brightens when he sees another. This time, Andrew follows his scarred finger as it points up. He sees it too.

“You have to make a wish,” Neil claims.

Andrew immediately thinks he already has everything he could ever wish for as his eyes study Neil’s face again. He knows it by heart, but he will never grow tired of watching him. He’s gone soft, he briefly thinks. He doesn’t care. He’s actually as content as he can be to be out in the middle of nowhere with Neil lying on an obscene amount of blankets in the bed of Matt’s truck.

Neil ends up looking back at him after a while. Andrew whispers a quiet “yes or no?”

Lights twinkle in Neil’s eyes, a blue so dark they could rival the night. He leans forward, and meets Andrew’s lips halfway. Andrew’s free hand cups Neil’s cheek while he hauls himself on top of Neil with the other.

This kiss is soft, slower than any other before, but that’s okay.

They have all the time in the world and no one except the shooting stars above them as witnesses.

[t-u-i-t-c]

cursed to like shows that no one should be able to misinterpret so badly and yet...

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time

[theshmeepking]

Follow-up question! How did Jigen cope with his decision to leave Aiko behind?

putting this under the cut because WOW this got a LOT longer than i thought it would

the same way he copes with everything else /hj

but frfr, in a way, he didn't? or at least, not the first time.

i didn't really cover any of this in The Aible since it was more jigen's story than aiko's, but basically the headcanon is: jigen initially takes up stealing so he and his sister can survive; he's just a kid and it's not like their dad's doing a good job taking care of them, so he's just doing the best he can with such limited options. it starts small, gradually building up to bigger and better things, and once his dad takes notice of his skill, he exploits the hell out of it.

before long he more or less becomes his dad's little unwilling partner in crime, and though he doesn't like it, it does lead to his dad developing a weird sort of respect for him, and life gets a little bit easier for both him and aiko as a result.

then his dad gets into debt with the mob and asks him for help selling off his sister in order to pay it back.

he shot him and ran without hesitation.

problem is, dear old dad was pretty well regarded in the underworld, and by killing him jigen had basically put a big red flashing target on his back. if he went back to aiko, someone would surely go after her sooner or later in order to get to him. he hated the idea of leaving her all alone, but it was better than the alternative. so he layed low for a while, playing with the cards he had been dealt. he stuck with what he was good at, not caring if he was just digging his own grave at that point. there wasn't anything else left for him to do and he'd much rather ruin his own life than his sister's.

he had already dabbled in alcohol and tobacco before, but he especially doubled down on it after that. drugs, booze, sex; he drowned himself in whatever vices he could get his hands on just to get his mind off of home. after a while that became his new normal.

over the years he garnered quite the reputation for his skills as a hired gun. problem was that most people interpreted "hired gun" as just "hitman" and little else. truthfully he didn't mind all that much--he was so detached from everyone and everything around him that he never paid any real mind to what he was doing anymore--but after a while it just got monotonous. boring.

then a certain monkey-faced thief shows up and starts causing a lot of problems for a lot of people.

some guy wanted him dead, and the first time jigen got asked to kill him, to his surprise, he couldn't. and not due to lack of trying, mind you. it was the first time since he could remember that he'd emptied the chamber of his magnum on a hit. and he liked it.

more and more people wanted that bastard dead, and each and every one of them wanted jigen to kill him at some point or another. and each and every time, he just couldn't do it. it was the most invigorated he had felt in years. it almost became a game between them, and he couldn't get enough of it.

then someone brings his little sister into it. needless to say that was his last job as a hitman.

lupin immediately noticed that his sparring partner was acting strange, and as soon as he found out why, he quickly devised a plan to help him. he claimed it was just because he couldn't stand to see anyone mistreating such a cute girl, and there was certainly some truth to that, but it was more because he had actually come to like the guy. it was the first time the two of them had ever worked together, and they made a surprisingly good team. everything went off without a hitch.

jigen, meanwhile, wasn't really sure how to feel. obviously he was happy his sister was safe, and it felt good to see her again, but at the same time, there was no denying that things were tense at first. they had both gone through hell, and it was wearing on both of them. the sudden realization that she had grown up without him didn't help, either.

still, the whole situation put things into perspective. he had given up everything thinking it would keep her safe, and in one fell swoop it all blew up in his face. on the one hand, he was relieved to find he didn't have to completely cut himself off from her anymore. on the other, it only meant that she was still in danger either way.

he couldn't stay, that would only make her more likely to be targeted again. but if he left, she wouldn't have anyone to protect her, either. he didn't want to drag her into his mess any more than he already had, but he didn't want to completely abandon her, either. no matter how much she begged him to stay, no matter how much he wanted to stay, they both knew it just wasn't feasible.

so, they reached a compromise. he still keeps his distance, but they still keep in touch. he visits every once in a while, makes sure everything is alright, wash, rinse, repeat. it works for him, but now he's faced with a new problem: what does he do now? like hell he's going back to taking hits after what just happened, but what else is a newly ex-hitman to do, anyway?

fortunately for him it's not long until lupin tracks him down, and this time he's got an offer. a job he needs a second person for, and one with good aim at that. and while he probably shouldn't accept job offers from people he's tried to kill before, it's not like jigen has anything better to do. plus he did help him rescue ai. he owes him one anyway.

it starts with one job. then another. then it becomes a regular thing. then they start calling themselves "partners". they start living together, lupin gets a girlfriend, they befriend a samurai, you already know how this goes.

for the first time in his life, he doesn't hate himself. he has people who care about him, who make him happy consistently. and he wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

tl;dr: self-destructive tendencies and eventually an actual support system

[kittlesandbugs]

Just training (AO3 link) Pairing: Some hints of complicated Chargestep Warnings: None Word Count: 1060 Prompt: from @sidestepping, POV switch: rewrite / riff on a canon scene from Rebirth or Retribution, but from the perspective of another character present rather than through Sidestep's eyes. Summary: A re-write of the scene in Rebirth where Ortega first meets the puppet, from his perspective.  Dialogue and scene flow cribbed directly from the book to match, everything else is me lol.

I can't believe my luck when I step out of the changing room for my usual session and catch a glimpse of familiar auburn curls in the corner. Familiar short, curvy form accentuated by the white belt cinching the dogi tight at her waist. 

Why is she here now? 

Making contact is something I've been chewing on for a while. Doing it at Joes is too suspicious. Can't randomly accost her on the street, that's just creepy. Especially for a woman of her stature. Training at the same dojo presented opportunity, and I’ve been building my cover as a regular member, but the opposite sessions presented a challenge: I almost never make it to the afternoon class. Just showing up there late and approaching seemed too suspicious. 

This is the chance I've been waiting for. She's the one out of the ordinary here. My curiosity over a stranger is only natural. It's a perfect cover. 

I watch quietly from the corner of the side mats as she practices forms in the mirror. Her motions are jagged, tight, frustration clear in every step, every movement. Light glances off her cheeks, is she crying? 

She is.

I almost feel bad for this. But it needs to be done. I've stalled long enough. Things are moving and I need to find out what, no one works with Mortum for fun. 

She steps off the mat, buries her face in a towel, and I take the opportunity to approach. Just a concerned stranger, that's all I am. Wait until she's calm, starting to collect herself and… 

"Are you alright, miss?"

She startles, looks up with wide bottle green eyes. This is the closest I've ever gotten to her. Even red and messy from crying, she's beautiful, soft round face, a button nose with a smattering of freckles dusted across her pale complexion. 

"I'm not sure," she says, low voice wet and uneasy. "Just stress, I think."

Something going wrong on the job? Work the angle, maybe I can get something. Put on a charming, disarming smile. 

"Are you new here? I've never seen you before," she asks, answering my smile. Dimpled cheeks, perfect straight white teeth, a tilt to her hips, she's good at working the same angles. She has to be in her line of work. 

"I'm a member."  No lying here, too easy to expose and blow me out of the water. Keep circling. "I usually attend the early sessions. Need to wake up somehow. Coffee rarely does the trick anymore."

"Ah, that's it then." Slightest tremor in her voice. Nervousness? Relief? I can't be sure. "I'm not usually here this early, but I needed to get some frustration out. Bad night."

Did something happen last night? Shit. Should've been working, but I still couldn't believe Riley—  No, focus, idiot. Turn on the charm, widen that smile, work the angle. Riley isn't here. She is. 

"Well, let's hope your bad night comes with a silver lining." I pause for effect, widen my smile, a little wink. "Or does that only work for clouds?" 

"Mixing metaphors already?" Her smile turns cold, voice hardening. "Aren't you supposed to be drunk for that?" 

Wrong move, maybe flirting wasn't the way to go. Might be something used with her too often with those looks. Better pull back. 

"I suppose you've got a point."  Let my gaze fall, show some vulnerability. I'm not a threat, not a creep, just a sympathetic stranger having a conversation. "Not that I would mind a drink. Got enough problems already."

"Oh?" A shift in her stance, green eyes widening, inviting me to open up, and damn, I can see why she's so good at her job.  Building that veneer of trust and openness. 

"It's nothing, really."

"Try talking about it. It's better than a drink this time of day, trust me."

As much as I would like to talk about my problems, talk about Riley, Chen would make a much better ear. This is definitely not the person to give any kind of ammunition to. 

I shrug. "It's just that a friend ended up in some trouble, and I'm trying to work out how to fix things."

"You one of the good guys then? To care that much about your friend?" 

Put my smile back on, don't let it show that I noticed that choice of words. Does she know who I am? It wouldn't be out of the question, I am what amounts to a celebrity in this town, but why keep the dance up? Does she suspect something? 

Turn it back on her, throw her off balance. This is no different than being on the mat or in a fight. "You don't have friends who do?" 

She scowls, bullseye. "I work too much for close relationships."

Something I can more than sympathize with. "That kind of ambition can be stressful.  Sometimes it's nice to have friends, even if it's just someone to fight who can't counter your every move." 

I flick my gaze meaningfully to the mirror behind her.  It lands and she laughs, relaxes a little. 

"Reflections do have their disadvantages, I suppose."

And there, there's my opening. 

"Want to train together, then?"  Hesitation wars with a yes in her eyes and the stark difference in our size and rank catches up with me. Not to even mention my mods, if she's aware of them.  I don't want to scare her off. "I'll be gentle."

Her eyes narrow, gaze turns challenging. Not so easy to scare off then. "Sure, if you think you're up for it."

"Wouldn't have asked otherwise." Give her a grin, challenge accepted. "I'm Ortega by the way. Ricardo Ortega." 

No flash of recognition at the name. Only anticipation, some fire in her eyes as she answers back, "Jolene." 

Ha! Flaming locks of auburn hair, eyes of emerald green. What an obvious alias. She either knows who I am already and is daring me to say something about it, or isn't aware of my identity as a Ranger at all. I'll keep the play at normalcy until she proves otherwise, if she does. Help her with training. Get her to want to come back for more. I can build on that, play the long con. 

Maybe have a little fun in the meantime, too. 

"Let me just find us a spot on the mat, then."

[chuubisou]

Not The Same

Warning ─ mention of blood and cuts, memories, mention of death (you) plus cannibalism, depression, Angst, and…reincarnation/ first meeting?? Idk what to call it, Angst

A/n — I kinda hate it kinda love it? Criticism wanted and appreciated!!

Summary ─ Something's not right with him in the head.. he's done something beyond imagine, "I thought he loved them? How could he do this..?! She said.. but your alive?

Word count — 941

Mondstadt's Dawn Winery a quiet place, the servants were doing their job as per requirement and Diluc did his work locked up in his office as usual, but the atmosphere seemed distant and cold ever since you died 2 years ago.

It was a fatal accident when his truly murdered you in cold blood, “it was an accident” he told himself over and over but deep down he knew it wasn’t.

When Diluc wasn’t locked up in his office he’d lock himself in his room for hours on end he wouldn’t eat, sleep or even get up from the bed he just sat there, staring at a wall with a painting on it or at the ceiling with a soft light hanging below

This time was different; In his room Diluc sat on his bed slowly loosing his vision, he stared at nothing and thought about you and how he could still hear your laugh, your cry, and the sound of your scream as he swung his claymore into your shoulder and down your chest.. did he kill you? He thought, dwelling back on the past.

He was so sure of it when you were on the ground and he was holding a sword.. but there was another person in the corner of his eye, one in a dress.. Diluc couldn’t remember who but they had a maids dress on and a feminine silhouette.

As the day grew longer Diluc finally left the room, he roamed around the long hallway now with a sense of boredom he finally went downstairs and into another door all his servants had already prepped a meal and bath for him immediately they bowed/curtsied at him.

"Welcome back sir." The servants said in union, standing side by side greeting the red haired man, Diluc watched as they quickly got up and back to work “What am I having today?” He said, voice emotionless and stony

One of his servants had said: “Fragrant sticky honey roast sir,” Diluc’s eyes widened he hadn’t had his favorite in a while, when he sat down his head maid, Adeline brought him his roast, the other attendants took notice of his slightly messy hair, his chapped lips, baggy tunic, the bags under his eyes and his lousy posture, this was not the Diluc they’d come to work for.

He had started eating slowly, the silence that came from the room was uncomfortable, that said as Diluc was daydreaming again he was unaware that a curtain maid was watching him eat his food with a bizarre indifferent attitude, his eyes wandered over to the empty seat your sit in he remembered when you'd look up at him with a beaming smile, you’d talk to him about the weather, what you’d both do together after the meal etc

He chuckled quietly as he remembered how scared you were when he had come back home to you after being out for so long, “where were you?!” You yelled at him, Diluc was taken a back when you yelled, you barely yelled at him I guess you were that worried about him he thought back then

When he looked back at his almost empty plate there was an unusual aftertaste, Diluc raised an eyebrow then looked at all of his maids, “who made this?” he questioned, most of the maids look to the side or look away, the butlers were already gone.

“Who made this.” The red haired man asked again this time more sternly Moco, one of his maids, hesitantly spoke up: “Adelinde did sir…” She had said, her voice quivering ever so slightly

The red haired man looked at the head maid, his face was gonna say something out of place but his mind was faster than that “Thank you Adeline…” he sounded sincere from the outside but in the inside he was very suspicious.

- -

Later on Diluc walked the halls of his residence, it felt like he was walking endlessly he was already tired and now he has to handle business meeting at his abode?

Could this evening get any worse?

When he opened the doors to the Dawn Winery, Diluc was about to greet the two men and their assistant when he realized that assistant looked just like you! has Barbados favored you? It's only been 2 years so how?

No matter pondering over it, Diluc quickly invites "you"and the other business men, it was a quick meeting about the wine that they were making and how they could profit it all the way in sumeru.

Of course he was not paying the slightest attention to whatever they talked about your appearance was different, a different smile, different way of talking, and a different style, your personality, facial features and your hair stayed the same

Once the meeting was over Diluc had stopped you from going with your bosses which they weren’t caring at all, that kinda annoyed you but you were willing to see what the rich man named Diluc wanted

“How would you feel working under me as my assistant?” He offered, in your mind you were super excited because you just got offered a better job than the shitty one you were currently in oblivious to the fact that he was going to keep you and study you out of “love” as he calls it.

So you obviously accept with a smile, you already know the pay was high and as you left you got a wave a déjà vu it feels like you’ve met him before you brush that feeling off and continue on with your day

Diluc on the other hand stays in his room on, he looks desperate to find and answer how? Why? Who? That’s doesn’t matter because your not the same anymore he repeats the sentence while looking through papers

“Your not the same…”

[cheswirls]

looking @ old fic i started when i was 14/15 is so funny bc im realizing once again why i never mark fics as abandoned even if its been literal years since i've touched them. specifically i was checking docs for stuff i started and either did or didn't post to ffn.

and its like. nothing is bad??? like i can see where my outside-the-box ideal of fic writing comes from. not just fics but writing in general, i'm p sure. even if it's a total cliche plot setup, there are details on each that rly make it stand out like oh yeahhhhhh i did have this great idea once upon a time.

funny too bc was it executed well in prose??? no absolutely not i wrote like shit when i was 15. would i revive an idea one day and revise it to be less cliche or cringy while still keeping the stand-out elements??? yea maybe. i might. everything i'm currently working on that i started from 2021 up to now still holds my supreme interest, but like i'm not gonna say never.

esp since i write fic first and foremost for my own need and specifically what i like to read, it makes it impossible to consider an idea i've thought extensively about "not worth writing anymore". anyway not making this too long i jus found everything interesting to consider

[radrobotz]

i think the funniest ocs ive ever had were it was like a next gen crossover au where all webseries (of the 2000s-2010s for reference) exist in the same world but its like the kids of the characters and the main character (and couple) were an eddsworld fankid and a dick figures fankid

[stellamancer]

This fic isn't turning out how I want to so I think I probably won't finish it, but I did wanna share this one part from it that I liked: