#I had to rewrite it from scratch

[cyten0]

So now that I've finished exporting everything on Ao3, I gotta think over how I want to release future chapters. Doing it on two different sites makes it tricky to do things like spelling corrections and double checking things. Plus it takes longer.

Asks will still be handled here, regardless, but for actual chapter releases...

If I do pick the former, I'll still put out posts linking each new chapter!

[natasha-in-space]

⋆˚Longing For You˚⋆

Pairing: Saeyoung/gn!reader.

Summary: You were perfectly aware that it wouldn't be simple or even safe to be with Saeyoung as your lifelong partner. You fully accepted it. If it meant being by his side, you were more than willing to face all kinds of dangerous odds life threw your way. You never realized that Saeyoung couldn't bear the weight of your devotion to him.

Notes: 'better to be tragically in love than to have not loved at all' promt for @brighteststar707! Post-divorce angst and hurt-comfort. Implied unhealthy alcohol consumption (reader thinks of drinking as a coping mechanism but never fully commits to it). Both reader and Saeyoung need a hug.

AO3 Link - 5.2k words.

Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics.

Happily ever afters are a thing of fiction. You always knew that, on some level. You weren't an innocent fool, treating life as if it was a carefree fairytale.

But this was just too cruel. 

With your head resting in your arms and the entire weight of the world pressing down on you, you let out a deep sigh. The silence of your apartment felt especially draining today, seeping straight into your bones and constantly reminding you of just how utterly lonely and miserable you were. On the table slightly off to the side rested unopened bottles of vodka and tequila that you had purchased earlier today, the glass glistening almost mockingly under the ceiling lights.

Even though you bought them on a whim, you ultimately couldn't bring yourself to drink. A part of you was frustrated at that. What precisely was stopping you, after all? Nothing. 

Or, rather... nobody. 

Your unusually high levels of moping today had a valid reason. Though you wished you wouldn't care nearly as much, or even remember it for that matter. That's why you stocked up on alcohol in the first place. To become so inebriated that you'd forget. Hopefully. 

You and Saeyoung would be celebrating your first wedding anniversary today. Really, you didn't care all that much about marriage as a whole. What bothered you so much was what it stood for. Memories of a happier time that was so recent, yet felt so painfully alien to you now. Even after several months, he continued to occupy all of your thoughts. His smiles, his laughter, the red of his hair, his scent. Everything. 

You couldn't stop thinking about him. And it hurt. Nothing in the world hurt as much as this did. Like there was a gaping hole left inside you, ripped into you forcefully and unceremoniously, with no regard for the suffering it would inflict on you. Is that what Saeran meant back when he was just brought into the bunker...? You remember him saying something similar... Feeling like a half of him was missing. It's funny how life goes. Your hands moved on their own as they haphazardly grabbed at the bottle that was closest to you and ripped the cap open, hastily bringing it up to your lips. There was no enjoyment in the burning liquid trickling down your throat as you took three large gulps, almost choking as a result. It simply felt repulsive, if anything. You hadn't drunk much ever since you met Saeyoung. Nothing more than a single fruity cocktail on a romantic date night or perhaps a cup of champagne at the RFA event.

You knew Saeyoung wouldn't approve if you did, after all. Although he probably wouldn't have stopped you. He was considered of you like that. 

Immediately after you slammed the bottle back down, the hard sound reverberated throughout the apartment, followed by a dry cough. You felt no desire to continue. If anything, you just felt even more pathetic and gross about yourself, bitter tears stinging your eyes as you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

Drinking yourself to death over your ex husband. It was almost humiliating. This was definitely a rock bottom, if you ever saw one.

But it wasn't supposed to be like this. You were meant to work together as a team and support one another no matter how risky things got.

He was supposed to trust you.

And you didn't know how to live with the fact that he didn't. 

You didn't hate Saeyoung. God knows you couldn't hate him even if you tried. Your heart yearned for him with the same warm tenderness it did back in Rika's apartment all those years ago. There was a part of you that wanted to hate him. That would make everything so much easier. You could rant to a lovely bartender about your deadbeat husband, get intoxicated without any guilt holding you back, and possibly even find a handsome stranger to spend a lousy night with.

You couldn't do that, though. You couldn't even finish a bottle of tequila for heaven's sake. 

Your separation with Saeyoung was as out of the ordinary as every step you have made with him. All of you knew that his father would become a real threat to you one day. It was just a matter of time. You thought you were prepared for that day to come. However, it turns out that none of you were really prepared for that day to come. Maybe that's because you underestimated just how low that man was willing to sink to ensure that nothing and nobody would sully his good image. In the end, Saeyoung's ingrained paranoia wasn't enough to keep you out of harm's way. Maybe that's what broke you apart. That he wasn't enough. That's what he likely felt, anyway.

Saejoong captured Saeran without as much as a warning, which none of you could have predicted. And none of you expected him to dangle Saeran's life in front of you like a carrot on a stick. 

Saeyoung has never looked as terrified as he did in that moment, not even the day he recognized Saeran in Unknown. You'll remember that look of sheer, primal terror painted over his face as white as a sheet until the day you die. It felt like the weight of the entire universe was falling on you at once when you got that initial transmission from that monster of a man. What could you do to help Saeyoung at that very moment? You had no other option except to be his rock and stick with him through it all. You were happy to do that for him. You were a team, after all.

He took a bullet for Saeran, so why is it that you doing the same for him somehow turned out to be the end for your relationship? 

Unconsciously, you reached up to touch the area where the bullet scar has now resigned, imbedded in your left shoulder. A timeless reminder of you saving Saeyoung's life and dooming your happy relationship simultaneously. That was so painfully ironic. You knew he would feel guilty about it. You knew he would be stressed, scared, shaken. Maybe it's because he was left alone with his thoughts for too long. Both you and Saeran hurt and unconscious in hospital beds, while all he could do was wait and pray for the better. He probably felt like he failed you. That his presence in your life has only caused you suffering and peril. And no one was there for him to quell those dark thoughts of his in time.

In the end, you'll never know what truly prompted him to end things between you. All you knew were those sad, guilty eyes refusing to even look at you, and the tremble in his voice, almost like he would break down in tears from even the smallest pushback from you. Perhaps that's why you were also utterly powerless. You were both so stressed, scared, and hurt, each in your own way. And at the time, a part of you thought that would be for the better. For him to focus on Saeran without having to feel guilty every time he saw your bandaged shoulder. 

Naturally, you quickly regretted that choice. But it was too late. And now, you were here. On a day that should have been filled with love and joy, you instead find yourself alone in your empty apartment with just two bottles of booze to keep you company. Knowing Saeyoung, he'd probably plan some elaborate game for you to play. Of course, with him as the final reward. Or maybe he would go the romantic route and take you out somewhere remote to see the stars. Maybe you could dance together beneath the wide night sky before sharing a tender kiss under the stars to cap off the evening.

...Those thoughts didn't help you much right now, if at all. Quite the opposite, actually. You weren't really drunk. Not on alcohol, at least. Even though you weren't as seasoned as Jumin, you wouldn't get wasted after three gulps. But you were certainly drunk on your feelings of heartbreak. And maybe that was plenty to get you drunk in a whole new way.

When your fingers reached into your pocket and took out your phone, you didn't think. You scrolled aimlessly until you came across the familiar red of his hair. You didn't really expect him to pick up. You weren't certain that you wanted him to pick up at all. And yet...

"MC?" 

He does.

After hearing his voice say your name, there was a prolonged period of deafening silence. You didn't know what to say. You could only guess that you seemed strange to him right now, yet you also couldn't really bring yourself to care. Once a minute or two has passed, his voice rang out in your ear again, not cold or angry. Worried. 

"MC?" He reiterated, this time with greater urgency. It made another lump form in your throat, making it hard to breathe. He probably thought you were in danger, you were just worrying him without good reason to do so. "MC, is everything alright? Do you need h-"

"-Do you know what today is?" 

Before you had a chance to reconsider, the question already escaped your chapped lips. But you didn't dare to try and take it back. You had no desire to. Even as another long moment of heavy silence fell over you, this one more pronounced than the ones before it.

Given everything that had transpired between you two, you could only assume that Saeyoung was probably taken aback by your sudden call, and that's putting it lightly. The tone of your voice made it clear that you were not exactly in your best state of mind. There was an unsaid, unbroken bond between you that neither of you could ever fully get rid of, even though you had left the bunker weeks before. You had no doubt he knew that you were referring to your would-be anniversary, but he didn't seem know what to say. You didn't blame him. You wouldn't really know what to say to that, either.

"...Of course I know what day it is," Saeyoung murmured after that hefty pause. "Is... that why you called?"

He didn't sound annoyed with you, at least you didn't think so. Either way, you were suddenly sweating like a sinner in church, shifting uncomfortable on your stool and licking your lips.

His response made you laugh uneasily while you stared up at your apartment's ceiling. You felt your heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and sadness, but it was mostly the latter. You didn't know or care if it was your lovesickness for him or the alcohol that was clouding your judgment.

“It would’ve been our first marriage anniversary, you know that? We would’ve been married for a whole year. How crazy is that?” You said softly, but there was more to it than that. It was impossible to ignore the almost pleading and desperate undertones seeping through into your voice. You weren't really attempting to disguise it, anyways. You wanted to know that you weren't the only one losing your mind here. That he was concerned for you. That he cared.

The mere mention of your anniversary caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you feel a wave of mixed emotions. Anger, regret, nostalgia - all of them hit you over the head like a ton of bricks. Given that you were essentially baiting him with mentions to your shared past, you could only assume that Saeyoung was well aware of your intentions here. You knew you weren't being very fair to him right now. He must be struggling as well. It's not right for you to demand for his attention like this.

But despite your genuine desire to control your selfish urges, you were unable to do so.

It was a fundamental aspect of your relationship with him, funnily enough. You never knew how to back off.

"MC..." he started, your name practically strangled from his lips. It hurt you to hear him murmur it like that. As if just mentioning you by name was heartbreaking for him. "Don't do this. It's over. There's no point in dwelling on what could have been. You'll just... hurt yourself."

On a whim, you took another gulp from the bottle and immediately regretted it, spitting some of it back out as you exhaled and ran your fingers over your untidy, uncombed hair. Not necessarily because you couldn't stomach your alcohol, but because it felt so utterly wrong to drink like this with him on the line. You were such a mess, God. A complete and utter mess. This mixture of emotions just made you more obstinate and determined, and you couldn't help but question whether things would have been any different at all if you were actually intoxicated. So much for keeping to yourself and not bothering anyone with your problems. 

“There is a point. We were good, you and me. The divorce didn’t have to happen, you know,” you groaned with a slight bitterness in your voice. “It’s your damn father, it’s always your damn father and this unfair world that keeps getting in the way and hurting us. Why couldn’t you understand that, huh? That none of that was your fault?”

You decided to move away from the table - and the alcohol - and sit on your couch, leaning your head back, looking up at the ceiling. Your mind seemed scattered at best, and your eyes were a little off-focus. There was another long beat of silence on the other end of the line, and a part of you wondered if he just hang up on you. You wouldn't blame him. However, your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him take a deep, tremulous breath.

You wished he was here. 

"MC, I-"

“Listen,” your words were still shaky as you spoke. “Can you… can you come over? I just… I just need to talk to you. Please.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, your knuckles turning white from the tension in your joints. You were well aware that your remarks most likely resonated with him, possibly even evoking the same defensiveness and dread that had led the two of you to this very moment. He knew you were right, after all. He could run from it and deny it all he wanted, but you knew him. You knew that, deep down, he must have understood that it was his father that was to blame for all the pain inflicted on those he loved. Not Saeyoung himself. Never Saeyoung. Your downfall was largely due to the outside factors completely out of your control. But he was too stubborn and selfless to admit it.

"I'm not coming over, MC," he said through gritted teeth. "We agreed to keep our distance. And you're... You're better off without me, for God's sake."

You let out a frustrated grunt, steadfastly refusing to give up on this. You were in too deep already. You always had a difficult time accepting no as an answer, especially when it came to Saeyoung. The evident tremor in his voice simply made you feel even more determined to keep pushing. He wasn't fooling anyone. 

“I don’t care that you think I'm 'better off' without you. I just… I just want to see you. It’s been a month, and I miss you,” Your voice took on an even more pleading tone as you spoke. If there was any dignity left in you, it just flew straight out the window. You were willing to beg if you need to. “It’s our anniversary, Saeyoung. I won’t be able to handle it alone. Please.”

He gave another lengthy sigh at your insistence. Pain of separation and longing welled up inside you as you spoke, sending a sharp pang straight through your chest. No matter how hard you tried, you could no longer deny it. You felt the same way about him as you did before. And it was painful to keep these feelings suppressed as though they were wrong. Especially when you knew they were mutual.

"Damn it," he hissed, cursing to himself. You knew full well that you would likely regret this when you had more clarity. But right now, you didn't care one bit. You simply awaited the verdict with bated breath. Finally, you heard him taking a breath, a muffled sound similar to the creaking of a chair being heard in the background. "...I'll be there in 30 minutes."

Relief and excitement washed over you as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You couldn't believe it, but you somehow, by some miracle, you managed to persuade him to come over. However, you surmised that he was most likely only acting out of concern for you. You were a mess. You only wanted to see him again, regardless of his intentions. As you brushed over your hair again, a small, nervous smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice growing quieter and softer as desperation gave way to anxious hopefulness. “I'll be waiting. And, uh... don't hang up. Please.”

You were simply too afraid of having false hope on your hands, even though that plea sounded foolish. You needed him to come. 

"...Alright."

You attempted to try and relax while you awaited his arrival. You rose to your feet with some difficulty, and stumbled slightly as you made your way over to the bathroom. You sprayed your face with cold water in an attempt to hopefully pull yourself together. You inspected your reflection in the mirror. The state of your appearance was disheveled, messy, and unkempt. To put it mildly, that is. You hadn't been showering in days, and the deep bags under your eyes were a dead giveaway of just how little sleep you had gotten lately. But as long as he was coming over, you didn't give a damn.

While you didn't talk much with each other except for some very short exchanges, you still could hear the sound of Saeyoung driving through the phone speaker, a sound that was in equal measure calming and anxiety-inducing, considering the circumstances. You could hear him stumble around as he got into his car, the sound being a mixture of worry and amusement on your end. You hoped he wouldn't drive carelessly. A part of you questioned whether this was a wise decision at all. If you should maybe just apologize and tell him to go back home and not trouble himself. It would probably simply hurt him to see you. But you also knew that you were already too deep into this to back out now. 

Saeyoung had no trouble parking his car outside your apartment. After all, you knew all too well what an impressive driver he was. And he was familiar with every corner of your apartment building. Not that you made much of an effort to distance yourself from him. However, looking back, that might have been more advantageous for you both. You could hear him pausing momentarily, probably to calm down, mentally prepare himself for what was to come. You followed suit. Though, it didn't really work. He went up the stairs and knocked firmly on the door of your apartment, causing all of your nerve endings to tingle with nervous excitement.

As you answered the knock on your door, your heart began to race once more. You hurried towards it, almost tripping over your own feet, and opened it, your eyes widening as you saw him standing there. Real. You managed to catch yourself on the door frame after unintentionally tripping a little while standing. You were silent for a moment, your eyes roaming over him, taking in his presence. He looked the same as always. Red, unkept hair you loved so much, striped glasses fitting perfectly on his nose, casual and comfy attire, the silver cross. You had to actively stop yourself before you would fall into him the way you typically did when you were lost because he looked that painstakingly familiar to you.

Instead, you stepped back and gestured for him to enter, swallowing down your emotions. 

"You actually came..."

The sight of him made your heart ache with longing. The longer you looked looked him, the more changes your eyes could see. He wasn't as familiar as you initially believed. He looked... unkept, tired, vulnerable. Not at all the chaotically put together man you remembered from your relationship. His eyes were dull, his skin paler than you remembered, clothes just like tad more wrinkled than you were used to. Saeyoung's fists were clinched, as if he was resisting the need to speak or act upon something. You hoped he wanted to touch you. To hold you. Just as much as you wanted to hold him. However, you were way too afraid of him leaving again to even attempt to express that desire out loud. As he entered, his movements were stiff and tense. You didn't like seeing him like this. Not with you.

"You asked me to," he mumbled his words in a somewhat gruff tone, observing the obvious messiness of your apartment. Damn it, you didn't even try to clean up since you were so frantic. He probably saw the bottles. You weren't actually intoxicated, though. Still, it left a bitter taste in your mouth to think of him seeing you like this. He probably just felt worse about himself now.

Great job, MC.

As you closed the door behind him, you let out a dry laugh. The sound bounced through the dimly lit apartment, and you stumbled slightly as you attempted to get back on your feet, the overwhelming feelings from his presence quite literally making you feel weak in the knees. You walked back to the couch and settled down on it, keeping your gaze fixed on him the entire time, as if you were terrified that if you looked away, he would vanish like a mirage.

"Yeah, I did," you admitted with a slight shaky voice. "Come sit down, will you?" 

You rubbed the cushion and pointed to the empty spot on the couch next you. You scooted closer to him as he made his way over to the couch and sat down next to you. The heat emanating from his body was so strong you could feel it even without directly touching him, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your insides flutter. Orange and lavender. It was a cologne that you gave him as a Christmas present a year ago. He was still using it. You were both pleased and saddened by the thought. Following your first impulse without a second thought, you reached out and grasped at his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. As you put your hand in his, a flood of memories of your wedding day and your happier moments together swept over you.

Saeyoung flinched at the contact, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling the same electric current the moment his skin touched yours. As you intertwined your fingers together, the harsh physical reminder of everything you had lost made your heart throb. You could feel his body heat through his clothes, and the closeness made all the walls you had built up inside you start to crumble. They weren't really all that strong in the first place.

Saeyoung didn't pull away.

"...I missed you," you confessed softly, almost whispering.

"MC..." he began with a slight crack in his voice. His eyes were glued to the wall ahead of him as he cleared his throat. His fingers twitches in your grasp. "We can't keep doing this, you know. We agreed-"

"I know what we agreed on," you interjected before he could finish, your hand squeezing his own in a silent attempt to get him to just look at you. "But I-" 

You squeezed your eyes shut and drew a trembling breath.

"I can't keep going like this, Saeyoung." 

The words left you in a weak whisper, only audible due to the suffocating silence of your apartment this late in the night. Panic struck when you felt him begin to move to remove his hand away from yours. You clung to him, what you said next coming out in a hurried, shaky ramble that grew louder and more emotional the longer you spoke, all the pent-up feelings seeping into your voice with no means for you to stop it.

"I know you blame yourself, and I know seeing me get hurt for you was probably like living through your worst nightmare, and I'm sorry you had to go through something that painful and scary all alone, but-" You took a deep breath. "-But it's no reason for you to blame yourself for everything that happened! It's not your fault I got hurt! It's not even your fault that Saeran got hurt!" 

The quiet felt even heavier after your outburst, almost physically weighing you down due to how charged and stagnant the air suddenly felt. The silence was thick with tension of mutual repressed emotions, each breath feeling almost painful in your lungs. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, clearly trying to contain a flood of his own hidden feelings. Though, you wished for the opposite. You wished for him to be honest with you once more and look you directly in the eyes while doing so. Even if it was ugly or nonsensical, or even downright unfair to you. You just wished for you both to stop hiding things for one another's sake.

"...Not my fault?" He repeated, and the lingering animosity in his voice was obvious even if you couldn't see his face. It was a heavy sound, despite the quiet volume with which his words were spoken. He gave a short, stifled laugh and shook his head. Though it was devoid of any joy or mirth you were used to. You loved hearing Saeyoung laugh, but not like this. This was a sharp, hollow sound. Not one filled with joy and happiness, as it should be. Finally, he turned to look at you, his eyes angry and hard. Not at you, though. You knew this ire was only ever directed at himself. You secretly hoped that, for once, he would be upset with you instead of silently tearing himself down again. That would make it less painful to witness. "MC, you almost died because of me. By the time we were at the hospital, you lost so much blood, you were in critical condition." 

Your heart squeezed in your chest. You knew what you were going to say to that. And you knew he wouldn't want to hear it. But you said it anyway.

"...You know I would've taken that bullet for you a 100 times over again if I had to. I do not regret protecting the man I love." 

You could almost see the moment he broke, which was both horrible and relieving at the same time. He sucked in a shaky breath, one that bordered on a sob, and then he grabbed at your shoulders, his fingers digging into your clothes tightly, almost painfully. 

"You would, wouldn't you? Of course you fucking would. And what would happen next, huh? How do you think I am supposed to live with myself, knowing that the one person in this entire god-forsaken world that has believed in me and loved me when all I wanted was to give up on myself, died because I couldn't protect them? Because I failed to keep them safe from harm after all they've done for me!?" He shook you a little, an action that was probably more emotional than purposeful on his part, like he was trying to literally shake some sense into you. "Do you have any idea how terrifying it was-? To sit there, with blood of two people I love and care for the most all over me!? Not knowing if- if..." 

And the tears came. Two thin streaks of clear moisture sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto your lap with silent weight of restrained hurt finally set free. You quickly became aware that you were crying now as well, your own silent, hurt tears pouring down your cheeks.

"And then, when you finally woke up, you just- smiled at me. Like nothing was wrong at all! Like you weren't just on the brink of death because of me. Do you have any idea how that felt to me?" He's not shouting anymore, previous frustration and ire replaced with broken sorrow and guilt. Which was worst for your hurting heart was a mystery to you. He shook his head again, a shaky breath leaving him. "You think I couldn't tell that you were in pain? That you were just putting on a brave face for me? I hated you throwing your life away for me like that. I don't deserve it. Not me." 

Your palm barely touched the softness of his shirt when you laid a hand over his chest. You could feel the rapid raise and fall of his chest, the trembling in his body. There was a part of you that wanted to just jump right in and hug him. But you didn't. Not quite yet.

"...I'm sorry I didn't think how my actions would make you feel, Saeyoung. I wanted you to not blame yourself for what happened, but... instead, I just made you blame yourself even more by lying to you. I should have been honest with you. Maybe if I relied on you a bit more, you wouldn't feel so responsible for my pain." With your next words, your voice hardened as you gulped. "-But I'm not sorry for keeping you safe. You might not like hearing it, but... if I was to truly die on that day, I would die with no regrets." 

"MC..." 

Your name came out like a broken plea from his lips, and the sound tugged at your heart even more. You raised your eyes to meet his own, so clouded with undeserved pain and guilt. You were not sure if you could fix it anymore, if you could take away all that pain he inflicted onto himself. However, you knew one thing.

"No matter how much it hurts, be it this bullet wound, or you leaving me with only a half of my heart to live with, I don't regret meeting you and loving you. I'll never regret it. Not in life, not in death. I want you to know that." 

When you finally drew Saeyoung into your arms, his body slumped into you with no resistance, his hands gripping the back of your shirt firmly as his body trembled with weeping sobs. And even as you cried and mourned into his shoulder in turn, there were no regrets tearing at your heart. Only pain for the man you loved and his sorrow. 

While Saeyoung may have regretted everything, you regretted nothing. 

All you could hope for was that he would come to forgive himself anew.

"...My only regret is letting you walk away, when we promised to shoulder our burdens together," you whispered into his hair as you turned to press your lips to his temple. His hold on you became more and more firm, almost crushing. Hungry. You welcomed that hunger with open arms.

"I'm the one who broke that promise." 

You hesitated.

"Then we'll rebuild that promise anew. If you'll have me." 

[forsaken-huntershunted]

"𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕"

// aka I had an idea so I threw a bunch of sfx together to "illustrate it"

idea under cut

// ███'s screaming / roaring sounds like multiple people screaming at once. Funnily enough, the more aggravated you've gotten them, the more variety you'll hear in their screams. although, if you've gotten them to the point of screaming or breaking their serene demeanor, the chance for you to save yourself has already left you.

// you're most likely to hear these sounds from ███ during the FEW times they actually decide to participate in a "round".

// they may call it salvation, but it is anything but that

// anyways. have fun with this little fact ig :D

[witchinatree]

"Gwen Bouchard; Too Close to the Sun"

third time's the charm except this one was a disaster and i just want to be DONE with it 😡

i was waiting hoping for more sad gwen and then 23 handed me exactly what i needed. and alice i love her too

this also made me think about like 1. babygirl blackmailed lena into letting her icarus herself, and 2. alice never doubted her for a moment, even when sam was cackling about the bonzo thing, i hope gwen and alice talk more because they need it/each other

so originally i was going to use the song "the rockrose and the thistle" by the amazing devil but i listened to the lyrics a bit more and realized it's way better for basira and daisy. guess what the next one is gonna be LMAO

i'm exhausted though so pls don't hold your breath you will suffocate ‼️

the podcast is the magnus protocols, song is "bubble gum" by clairo, and i used capcut (evil) to do this

sorry this one is kinda all over the place, i didn't have great scenes to transition between. it was so much easier with jon we got 200 episodes of him never shutting the fuck up (/pos)

if anyone ever asks me who my favorite tmagp character is pls show them this, it will not answer their question but i want internet points for my labor (it is gwen and alice though)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

P5R Random Thoughts #4: Ann and the Formation of the Phantom Thieves

Just a little note on something that struck me as interesting when I went back to rewatch some of the Phantom Thieves' awakenings - while Joker will eventually come to embody the justice the Phantom Thieves seek, he is relatively aimless at the beginning of the story, without much direction for this burning resolve and anger at injustice he has. Fittingly for a character who gains power through social bonds, the direction this justice will take is strongly influenced by the decisions of the people he meets early on - I've already talked about Ryuji as the driving force which breaks through a lot of Ren's early kind of spaced-out aimlessness, and of course, Morgana, who provides the two with a means to act. This post though is about what Ann contributes to the early conviction of the Phantom Thieves, because it's. A. Whole. Lot.

Ann's awakening is not just the formation of her own resolve, but also the foundation of what would eventually become the Phantom Thieves' entire brand of justice.

[ID: Screenshot of an in-game cutscene from Persona 5 Royal. Ann, newly awakened and transformed into her Panther outfit, points a gloved finger directly at the screen, glaring furiously. She says “I will rob you of everything…!” End ID.]

Look at this. No seriously. Look. What is she saying here?

The kind of abuse that Kamoshida has inflicted on Shiho has caused her to lose hope entirely. Her future, gone. The respect of her peers, likely gone. With how much stigma still surrounds sexual assault victims, it is highly likely that she has pity from adults around her at best, their judgement at worst.

Kamoshida has stolen Shiho’s dignity. Her reputation. SA is a tool of violence that oppresses and humiliates its victims. And ordinarily, there would be nothing these kids could do to someone with that kind of social standing.

But with her awakening, Ann has declared that she will rob Kamoshida of his dignity right back.

Morgana’s been going on about being cool phantom thieves before, but this line is what firmly cements them as thieves, not heroes. While they certainly do act on behalf of those without power and attempt to seek justice for them, the primary goal established here is much more karmic. The Thieves steal desires, yes, but it’s so much more than that. By taking the desire, the whole foundation crumbles. Palaces literally collapse. And the abuser, left with nothing but their guilt and a burning need to confess it, is robbed of the thing that gave them so much power over their victims, and what they took from their victims every day - their dignity. Their societal reputation.

This direction for their justice is kickstarted by Ryuji and Morgana, but solidified with the addition of Ann to the group. Even before the awakening itself, you get the sense that this is the case.

Joker chases down Ann in the subway, the second major action he takes since his arrest and after his awakening that he makes entirely without influence from Ryuji or Morgana. He was already set to do something about Kamoshida, but hearing what Ann was going through very obviously cleared any lingering doubts about his course of action, despite the risks. As another less important but still interesting note, Ann is also the first of Joker’s future friends that he actually saw. She’s had a huge impact on him.

And it doesn’t end with her awakening either. Joker, Ryuji and Morgana leave it up to Ann to decide Kamoshida’s ultimate fate. This is a turning point. They are all willing to let her kill him if that’s what she believes needs to be done. Ann’s decision, therefore, not to finish him off is what sets the foundations for the Phantom Thieves as a group that does not kill. This in and of itself is likely a reference to og gentleman thief Lupin's refusal to cross the line into murder, so I find it pretty interesting that Ann is the one to decide this path for the group instead of Joker.

[ID: Screenshot from an in-game cutscene from Persona 5 Royal. Ann stands in front of a cowering Kamoshida as she firmly states “If his mind shuts down, he can’t admit his crimes.” Ryuji, Joker and Morgana watch from behind her. End ID.]

Ryuji and Morgana at first mistake this action as a kindness, but the beauty of Ann’s mercy is that it isn’t mercy at all. Death would be an easy out for someone who’s hurt so many in such horrible ways. Ann says “you will live with that guilt for the rest of your life. you don’t get to die. everyone will hear exactly what you did from your own mouth and then you will spend the rest of your life making amends for all the harm you’ve caused.”

“I just think death would be too good for him.”

Their targets are robbed in the same way they robbed their victims, leaving them inelegant and blubbering messes in front of the world. But as a side effect of leaving their targets alive, the target seeks to make amends how they can, without necessitating any forgiveness from the people they’ve hurt. This justice is a blend of retribution and rehabilitation, and it's this mix that makes the Phantom Thieves’ sense of justice so satisfying and appealing to victims.

So while the first Palace was mostly about self-liberation, it set the stage for the eventual justice they would chose to embody - victims helping victims, children helping children find courage in pushing back against adult oppression by reversing the position of power and stealing back what was taken from them - their dignity, respect and reputation.

And most importantly, they make a choice never to restrain oneself or hold back from action in the face of injustice - a core sentiment that Joker and Ann both share in their awakenings.

[npdkondraki]

i keep hearing about the scp foundation having multiple canons and you seem like you know what thats about please explain

short answer: theres just a lot of canons. it isnt super important to keep track of all of them so like dont worry. worst case scenario youre just a bit out of the loop and gotta do some reading for context

actual answer: the scp foundation is based in several different universes, (meta)layers, worlds, timelines, endings, universal resets, and trying to understand it is kind of like willingly torturing yourself. in a good way. kind of.

it can be kind of difficult to directly track specific universes because theres just. so much shit. its especially difficult when you bring in reality benders, timeline hoppers, universe hoppers, portals, reality hoppers (different to reality benders), metaworlds, amnestics tainting records, and all the fucking meta people throw in.

essentially, you kind of have to work backwards to figure out canons unless its directly stated. if its unspecified what canon somethings from then just assume its from the "main" canon. the "main" canon is essentially just a collection of tales featuring the fandoms special guys (rights, clef, gears, kondraki, strelnikov, gerald, king, shaw, iceberg, etc etc etc).

it gets fairly fucking ridiculous when you count each canon as a separate layer on top of that main canon, which includes things like ship in a bottle and classical revival. its worse when you bring in all the different groups of interest, who tend to have their own sets of canons in and of themselves. other canons, like aces & eights, are nearly completely separate from the foundation and work as alternate universes, but their placement varies on if theyre simply from past / future versions of the foundation, from timelines where the foundation was destroyed, universes where there is no foundation, etc. this is infinitely more complicated once you bring in portals to other dimensions, scps that change reality as they see fit, etc etc.

anyways heres a flimsy chart i made in like 2 minutes to explain. enjoy

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Shadowstruck Character Notes: The Lynwood Family

(Note that everything is subject to change)

Jefferson Lynwood: Clara's father. The most vocal and vehement anti-shade senator in the country. Undersized, auburn hair, orange heartlight. Constantly moving, usually talking over everyone. Came from a respected, but not terribly wealthy family. Had to scrape to get into university, where he did well, but got a bit too caught up in academic sociopolitical theories at the time, which led to debates, which led to taking up politics. Has been a powerful voice in government for at least two decades.

Elizabeth Lynwood: Clara's mother. Comes from a well-to-do merchant family, but didn't get much beyond the very basics of a female education. Very sociable person, was the belle of society in her younger years. Had at least six men vying for her hand, but Lynwood's passion and ambition captivated her. Dark hair, yellow heartlight, slightly taller than her husband. Made the ideal political wife--a very good hostess who knew how to keep people mingling without overpowering the room herself. Had to give it all up when she had Clara--blamed it on her health. Is a charming and witty correspondent and keeps in touch with the world by being a prolific letter-writer, though even this dropped off as illness and isolation made her more fretful about Clara.

Miles Lynwood: Clara's eldest brother. Looks like a more elegant version of his father, with his mother's hair and a blue heartlight from somewhere way back in the family tree. The world sees him as his father's heir, and he's dedicated his life to filling that role. Went straight into politics as early as he could, working as a secretary and later a campaign manager for his father. Is much more refined and rather more entitled than his father is. Engaged to Delia, a gorgeous fluffy-headed bauble from an extremely wealthy, prominent family. (She totally drank the anti-shade Kool-Aid, but she has a naturally kind heart that makes it impossible for her, in practice, to treat shades as monsters.)

Samson Lynwood: Clara's middle brother. Hair redder than his father's, and is more energetic and angry than his older brother. Married to Sarah, a girl who's more handsome than pretty, and is almost more into politics than he is--she's 1000% invested in his career and is pushing for him to run for a seat in the lower house. (They have no children, but Sarah may once have given birth to a shade. They killed it immediately and told no one. I'm not even sure Samson knows.)

Phineas Lynwood: Clara's youngest brother. Very red hair, orange heartlight. Tall and slender like their mother. Is a puppy dog bundle of sunshine and energy. Recently finished law school and is just beginning work as a lawyer. May have a crush on the sister of a friend. Very fond of Clara and frequently comes to visit her.

Clara Lynwood: Clara herself! Undersized, with dark hair that is kept very short, and a pale yellow heartlight. Very practical, analytic mind. Very observant. Usually weak and tired. As a young child, she adored her mother, but as she grows up, she's come to see her mother as unintelligent, and has come to resent her overprotectiveness. Idolizes her father and brothers. Has an interest in science and mystery novels, which she shares with Phineas.

[mios-art]

I'm always so close to creating the most self indulgent mermen story ever it's not even funny anymore

The issue is I have a couple scenes for beginning-middle-ish, then a lot for the trauma time in the middle and then a few things for the conclusion/epilogue/bonus stories part

Also I don't write I only draw 🫡

[oloreaa]

.

[cassiasims]

About 'twenty and some change'... I hate to ask again but the fact that its all written is killing me. I don't care if its unedited, I'd still read it. That's all, Love your work!

always a jumpscare when i get a mortal instruments ask hahaha

ANYWAY. THE THING IS i care SO DEEPLY if it is edited :’) and the more i think about it the more i hate the unpublished parts. like yes it is technically all written but not in a way that works with what’s posted, because the posted sections underwent massive structural edits that mean what i currently have doesn’t really work. so in all honesty i think it will probably get a massive overhaul before it gets finished. and also my style has changed a lot since i started writing this fic back in 2020 (!!) which doesn’t help. when i’ll get the time to do that is ??? (incredibly busy at the moment + have a ton of other fanfics on the go) but in the meantime though i’ll tide you over with a section of what WOULD have made up chapter 5

“I can’t come to dinner tonight,” Isabelle says. “Tell Max I’m sorry.”

She’s breaking rule number one of being Isabelle Lightwood, which is calling her mother, and watching Maia clatter around in the kitchen with a frying pan. Isabelle wonders, idly, if there’s any stock in what Jace said about her sleeping with Lily. Maia does seem more relaxed than she did yesterday.

“Why?” Maryse asks. After a beat, she says, “Are you sick?”

She’s offering Isabelle a way out, a leading question befitting any good cross-examination, and Isabelle wants to hit something. It’d be so easy just to take her up on the excuse, is the thing. But Isabelle’s been making too many excuses, lately; she’s never been the kind of girl who takes the easy way out, and it’s beginning to grate. Isabelle watches Maia fight with the stove for a moment, takes stock of the purple bruise visible on Maia’s hipbone from where her shirt is riding up, and says, “No.”

“Who are you talking to?” Maia asks. Her expression is suspicious; she probably thinks that Isabelle is talking to Simon again.

“My mother.”

“Christ,” Maia pulls a face. She waves the pan threateningly. “Let me know if you want me to brain you with this. Put you out of your misery.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Isabelle says, and lets her gaze flick back to the carpet. Maryse still isn’t talking. “What, Mom, you’re not gonna argue with me?”

The silence is excruciating. In the end, all Maryse says is, “You’re an adult, Isabelle. You can make your own decisions.”

“You’ve never believed that before,” Isabelle says. “You always find a problem with whatever I want to do. My job, the guys I date, the way I dress.”

“Alec is worried about you,” Maryse ignores her. “I know it’s usually the other way round, but you should pick up his calls.”

“You should be the one worrying about me,” Isabelle says. The words feel slimy and acidic in her throat, like vomit. “Not Alec.”

“Oh, Isabelle,” Maryse says softly. It sounds like a sigh. For a moment, Isabelle thinks her mother is going to say something else, but then the silence takes on a different tone and she knows that Maryse has hung up.

Isabelle scrunches up her hands into fists. She imagines punching the wall. She counts to ten, and then she lets go. She’s - tired, of being so angry all the time, of hating her parents so much, of wishing Alec could hate their parents. She’s tired of pretending she didn’t spend all day yesterday with Simon Lewis and liked it. And she’s tired of wishing she could hate Magnus Bane, that Alec is the weird one for wanting a functional relationship, that her hang-ups about dating are anyone’s fault but her own. The truth is that it’s really, really tiring, being Isabelle all the time.

Someone is knocking on the door. Isabelle is content to ignore it, but after about a minute or so Maia sighs, gives up on her breakfast, and glances through the peephole.

“It’s your brother,” Maia says, and then, realising that that doesn’t really narrow it down, “Alec.”

“I can’t deal with him right now,” Isabelle says. “Tell him to go away.”

“Tell him yourself,” Maia retorts. “I’m not getting in between whatever shit is going down in Lightwood town this weekend. For three people so freakishly enmeshed, you guys really need to learn how to talk to each other properly.”

That’s Maia for you: always frustratingly straight to the point. Isabelle sighs, but Maia has a point - she’s already inextricably lodged into this mess, anyway, given that Simon is her ex and Isabelle is her roommate - and so she shuffles towards the door and is met with a faceful of unimpressed older brother.

“Cough, cough,” Isabelle says flatly, using Maryse’s earlier ready-made excuse. “I’m sick. It’s contagious. Go away.”

“You’re the worst,” Alec says without heat. “Let me in, Isabelle.”

“Nope,” Isabelle says pointedly, getting ready to shut the door on his face.

“Izzy,” Alec pleads. “I’m not going until you talk to me. You look awful.”

“Probably because I’m sick.”

“No, you’re not,” Alec says. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but let me help you fix it.”

Deep down, Alec has always been a fixer. He’s not great at advice, and he sucks at repressing his endless need to lecture, but Isabelle has always made messes and he has always helped clean them up. She studies him, takes in the dark shadows under his eyes and his strained posture, and she knows Maryse wasn’t bullshitting about him being worried sick. She’s been purposefully ignoring him for over forty-eight hours, and, yeah, they didn’t fight and she’s physically fine but. This isn’t really what they do.

“Fine,” Isabelle relents, and steps aside to let him in.

“I’m going to see Lily,” Maia says as Alec walks in, breakfast abandoned and her bag slung over her shoulder. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”

“She really doesn’t need encouragement,” Alec sighs. It’s a sigh of great affection.

“You’re the one who made me be friends with her,” Maia calls on her way out. “Can’t rue what you’ve created, Lightwood.” She lets the door slam behind her, Maia’s own way of saying get it together.

“Jace thinks they’re fucking,” Isabelle provides helpfully, resuming her former seat on the couch. Anything to delay the interrogation that’s going to inevitably follow. “Lily and Maia, that is.”

“It pains me to say it,” Alec says, “but Jace is probably right.” He hesitates, but after a moment he curls up next to her - the way he used to do when they were kids, with shorter limbs and shorter tempers, his freakishly long legs bracketing her like a comma around a clause. Isabelle hesitates, too, and then she melts into the touch. She’s missed him, she realises. Alec is only three subway stops away and they’re all grown up, but still. She’s missed him.

“Mom told me about your boyfriend,” Alec says into her hair.

“There isn’t one,” Isabelle says. She says it quickly, lets the words run into each other so she doesn’t have to dwell on the fact that, maybe, she would like there to be one.

“Yeah, I guessed,” Alec shrugs. She didn’t need to avoid him at all. “You don’t really tell Mom anything important before you tell me. Where were you planning on going with that, though? Out of curiosity.”

“Paid Maia’s ex $20 to be a nightmare,” Isabelle grunts. “Was going to pay him, anyway. He would’ve been a great fake boyfriend. He likes Star Wars and he plays in a band and we had a thirty minute conversation about ovaries. Mom would’ve had a fit.”

“You like Star Wars,” Alec says.

“The prequels,” Isabelle says dismissively. “He’s an original trilogy fanboy. And it wouldn’t have worked, anyway. I needed him to make me look unhappy, and he was just too nice.” The arm wrapped around her waist tightens momentarily, and she squeezes Alec’s hand.

An absurd part of her thinks she’s going to cry. Isabelle doesn’t usually bother with tears or hysterics, likes to save that particular weapon for her siblings, but she doesn’t particularly feel like herself at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says after a moment, “if you felt like I was flaunting my relationship in your face. I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

“Shut up,” Isabelle says furiously. “You always apologise for the dumbest shit. Your self-flagellation act wasn’t cute when we were fifteen, it’s not cute now. It’s not about that.”

“Isabelle-“

“It’s not flaunting,” she hisses, “to be happy. I want you to be happy. Magnus makes you happy. You shouldn't have to hide that. That was the entire fucking point. I thought maybe if I gave Mom and Dad a one-night only encore of the ‘Isabelle’s awful taste in men’ routine, they’d learn to shut up about yours.”

“You think I have bad taste in men?”

“That’s not what I meant, jerk.”

[kanronotatsu]

another not smut chapter, look at that, i am capable of pulling my head out of the filth after all 🤣🤣

(i would call this mostly emotional hurt/comfort but idk how much it fits those categories 🤔)

[dilly-dahlying]

finally finished rewriting scene 3. it was so hard for me to get through ;-; it’s the first scene after Carlos and Paz meet so I was really stressing over their interactions

I’m so relieved to be done with it though. the rest of draft 2 better watch out !!! >:]

[im-still-watching-anime]

catching back up with bsd made me so nostalgic for the first bsd fic i ever started but never finished so i decided to go back and work on it a bit and um it is. Unsalvageable.

[goresplosion]

Part of why Daan is a character that hits on so many levels for me is 3 years ago I was writing edgy mediocre poetry about how rabbits must long to be cats and suddenly a character who has both bunny coding and cat coding exists how could I not get obsessed with him. I deeply regret having deleted them now because if I did have them I'd be injecting that shit directly into Pocketcat dialouge in fics...

[spilling-blood]

You didn't see that.

[gaast]

I don't know whether it was the same advisor who didn't pass me, the other one, or the dean. If it was the same advisor I think I'll kill myself.