#this is how you do traumatized child who has lost their way!!!!

[ladyazurith]

Vil Schoenheit Headcanons

These are some of my headcanon’s for Vil and how I write him/ characterize him.

The woman who gave birth to Vil walked out on both him and his father right after he was born. She and his father were never married, and he was born out of an on-set fling. The woman that is actually VIl's mother, was a makeup artist, who Eric met when Vil was just a baby, and they married, and the woman (I named her Caroline) treated Vil as if he were her son. This is why when he’s asked about who he could have gotten his magic from, he says he doesn’t care. That woman wasn’t really his mother. 

One of the reasons he loves the Fairest Queen and her story so much is because he remembers his mother reading stories about her to him as a small child.  Unfortunately, the woman fell ill when Vil was about 5 years old, and her health declined rapidly and she passed away. This was a very traumatic event for him, that he’s suppressed. 

Most of Vil’s interests lie in his line of work, cosmetics, fashion, acting, etc. But one that he doesn’t talk about much is gardening. Especially cultivating rare and exotic flora that can be used in various potions. 

Vil’s ideas of love and romance are very skewed and jaded because of the fact he grew up in the film industry. With the death of his mother, he lost the one positive example he had in his parents. And was surrounded by people who tended to treat love as leverage for PR and personal gain. This is also why he’s so harsh concerning Cater when he’s been shown to be rather unbothered by other people who are clearly out to use his fame to their advantage. (Azul, Jade, Ace, etc). It’s the romantic angle that ruffles his feathers so much, because of how he’s seen it play out time and again all around him.

He has a terrible sweet tooth, he just has enough willpower to fight it off most days

As shown in Chapter 6, he’s got a very clear personal vs professional side. He’s able to compartmentalize them as separate and distinct. When he talks about Rook’s actions not bothering him at the end of chapter 5 and the start of chapter 6, that’s his professional side talking. On his personal side however I do believe he was hurt, not that Rook voted for RSA, but the fact that he hid his obsession with Neige from him all this time. That I think would feel like a bigger betrayal. (And specifically not that he was a fan of Neige’s but the hiding it bit) 

Vil knows the nonsense that Rook gets up to, stalking Leona and the other beastmen, etc. He turns a blind eye to it because he doesn’t want to lose who he sees as the only real friend he’s ever had. Despite how he might act passively and brush off Rook’s behavior (like in Rook’s portion of the Tsum event when they go to his room) his companionship means more to him than he’s willing to voice. And Yes despite what I said above, I do believe they are great friends. Friends can hurt you sometimes, even if they don’t mean it. People aren’t perfect. 

This is also why I think Jack’s friendship means a lot to Vil, more so than it does to Jack. Jack was the first person who stood up for him and how he was treated. But to Jack, he was just another kid who lived in the neighborhood and hung out and played with him sometimes. 

Leading into, I think part of the reason that Vil has such strong negative feelings toward Neige, isn’t just because Neige was the hero to his villain, but because Neige, despite acting like they’re close friends, never did anything to stop the way he was treated. Yes I know Neige was just a kid, no I don’t really expect him to have truly done something to stop it nor hold him responsible for Vil’s treatment, BUT Vil was also a kid, and I can’t blame him for feeling that way. Kinda like that kid who says they’re your friend, then goes and hangs out with the other kids that bully you. Never registering what the problem is.

We know Vil is a deeply insecure person, especially when it comes to his typecasting as a villain, and I think this extends to his outlook on love and romance, as I stated above he hasn’t had the best examples in his life, but typically the villains don’t get a happily ever after love story, and I think he’d projected that onto himself. Something else he wants but feels he can’t have so he doesn’t try. 

I also think he doesn’t know how to make friends or communicate with people in a casual/social manner. This helps account for how few friends he has. And the one he does is Rook, who basically adopted him and didn’t go away. This is also why I think he can come off as abrasive even when he’s trying to help. Like how he dealt with Epel. 

I also defend his treatment of Epel. I grew up in a very small and isolated town like Epel. I grew up with a lot of backward views because that’s all I was exposed to as a child. In a place where being even slightly different can make you a social pariah, if you step out of line it can be a nightmare. And it takes a lot of stern force to help someone overcome that. Not letting them make excuses. I’m grateful for the people in my life who helped me see differently, my version of Vil essentially, and I was so happy that they showed that Epel appreciates what Vil had done for him. 

I have more but that’s enough for now. 

[artoounit]

reva is literally the character kyle ron stans think he is take notes kids

[ineylesian]

— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet. 

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration. 

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder. 

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.” 

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward. 

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?���

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down. 

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires. 

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him. 

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage. 

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol. 

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear. 

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal. 

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone. 

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still. 

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound. 

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled. 

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side. 

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty. 

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock. 

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out. 

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better. 

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny. 

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas. 

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait. 

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers. 

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed. 

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather. 

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals. 

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum. 

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease. 

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him. 

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?” 

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down. 

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box. 

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait. 

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed. 

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red. 

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision. 

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn. 

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.” 

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched. 

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly. 

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait. 

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again. 

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you. 

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air. 

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise. 

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties. 

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.” 

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you. 

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight. 

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?” 

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china. 

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you. 

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures. 

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity. 

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel. 

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now. 

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone. 

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

[nellasbookplanet]

In the wake of FCG' fate I've been thinking about death in ttrpgs, and how it kind of exists on three levels:

There’s the gameplay level, where it only makes sense for a combat-heavy, pc-based game to have a tool for resurrection because the characters are going to die a lot and players get attached to them and their plotlines.

Then there’s the narrative level, where you sort of need permanent death on occasion so as not to lose all tension and realism. On this level, sometimes the player will let their character remain dead because they find it more interesting despite there being options of resurrection, or maybe the dice simply won’t allow the resurrection to succeed.

Then, of course, there’s the in-universe level, which is the one that really twists my mind. This is a world where actual resurrection of the actual dead is entirely obtainable, often without any ill effects (I mean, they'll be traumatized, but unless you ask a necromancer to do the resurrection they won’t come back as a zombie or vampire or otherwise wrong). It’s so normal that many adventurers will have gone through it multiple times. Like, imagine actually living in a world where all that keeps you from getting a missing loved one back is the funds to buy a diamond and hire a cleric. As viewers we felt that of course Pike should bring Laudna, a complete stranger, back when asked, but how often does she get this question? How many parents have come and begged her to return their child to them? How many lovers lost but still within reach? When and how does she decide who she saves and who she doesn’t?

From this perspective, I feel like every other adventurer should have the motive/backstory of 'I lost a loved one and am working to obtain the level of power/wealth to get them back'. But of course this is a game, and resurrection is just a game mechanic meant to be practically useful.

Anyway. A story-based actual play kind of has to find a way to balance these three levels. From a narrative perspective letting FCG remain dead makes sense, respects their sacrifice, and ends their arc on a highlight. From a gameplay level it is possible to bring them back but a lot more complicated than a simple revivify. But on an in-universe level, when do you decide if you should let someone remain dead or not? Is the party selfish if they don’t choose to pursue his resurrection the way they did for Laudna? Do they even know, as characters, that it’s technically possible to save someone who's been blown to smithereens? Back in campaign 2, the moment the m9 gained access to higher level resurrection they went to get Molly back (and only failed because his body had been taken back by Lucien). At the end of c1, half the party were in denial about Vax and still looking for ways to save him, because they had always been able to before (and had the game continued longer it wouldn’t have surprised me had they found a way). Deanna was brought back decades after her death (and was kind of fucked up because of it). Bringing someone back could be saving them, showing them just how loved and appreciated they are. Or it could be saving you, forcing someone back from rest and peace into a world that's kept moving without them because you can’t handle the guilt of knowing you let them stay gone when you didn’t have to. How do you know? How would you ever know?

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader ft. Hongjoong TW : angst ; childbirth ; reader has to have a c-section ; very traumatic labor experience ; Chan turning point moment ; fluffy at the end ; Word Count : 4.9k Request : I'm sure that in my 98 requests there are some regarding this so I'm gonna say yes, it is a request A/N : Back on that good shit, HELLO!!!

It had been four months since you left, riding off into the sunset with Hongjoong, at least that’s the way that Chan looked at it. In reality, you sat in the passenger seat crying your eyes out in the parking lot of the McDonalds while Hongjoong worked tirelessly to console you to no avail. 

Four months since the last time you had even heard from Chan, too busy with work still to even realize what he had lost… At least that’s the way you looked at it. Back at home, he couldn’t even get his brain to focus on anything but you, the words you had said before he had pushed you away. Work always came first in his life, it had always been that way, but you had needed his attention too, more then than ever before. He had screwed up, and now he was too scared, too ashamed to even try to get in touch with you. The fear that you had finally moved on to someone who would treat you and the baby better, it ate away at him like a parasite and it was killing him to not know how you were doing, but he felt that he deserved it. 

Even Hongjoong, who felt that his acts of kindness were purely innocent, was filled with a sense of guilt, feeling like he was the reason for what was going on right now. No matter how much you told him that he wasn’t to blame, that you would never blame him for it, he couldn’t let himself get rid of the shame. It turned into you consoling him for the better part of two months, and when it seemed like he was finally getting better and coming to terms with that fact that this wasn’t his fault, he would run into Chan somewhere and those feelings would come rushing back full force. 

All in all, the last four months have been absolute hell for everyone involved, but no one really talked to one another anymore, so that only worsened the feelings that everyone had. You were lonely, trying to get through the remainder of your pregnancy without thinking too hard about the fact that you’d be a single mother basically, that the father of the little girl that you were carrying had angrily kicked you out and wouldn’t even call to check up on you. Chan was depressed, not knowing anything that was going on with his daughter, not even knowing if you had delivered the baby yet, not knowing how you were doing, and being away from the love of his life and the mother of his child was essentially destroying him. Even those that weren’t directly involved in what was going on, they were being affected too. Members of both groups had to deal with the negative moods of both men and no one knew what to do. 

It seemed like the four months would never end, each passing day felt more like deja vu, waking up and reliving those moments over and over again, wondering what could have been done differently, what could have been said to try to change the outcome. It was a never ending nightmare it felt, but no one could have guessed how bad the nightmare would get. 

You flipped the page on the calendar, the small box that read “due date” with little pink balloons surrounding it was fastly approaching now. For the first time, it felt like a new day, like you could finally breathe even though your daughter felt like she was kicking at your lungs constantly, you could take a deep breath. You were beginning to feel like maybe, just maybe, with the birth of your daughter, you’d be able to leave the door to your past behind you and start a new journey in life, a new chapter. 

“How are you feeling today?” Hongjoong asked, meeting you in the kitchen with the world's best/worst case of bedhead. You felt awful that he had demoted himself to sleeping on the living room couch just so you could comfortably sleep in his bed, but he had insisted, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Is she ready to come out yet?” He smiled tiredly at your stomach which felt like it was about to burst any minute now, but your daughter had no plan on leaving yet. 

“I’m feeling good… It’s a good day today.” You murmured, giving him a genuine smile, something that you hadn’t done in a while. The sight of it had Hongjoongs eyes lighting up, and you were hoping that maybe he was feeling the same way. “She definitely isn’t ready though. I think she’s actually comfortable being all cramped up in here.” You joked, running your hand over your stomach, and you felt your daughter move beneath your skin, just slightly, but enough for it to feel like she was agreeing with you. 

“What if you’re overdue? What if she never leaves?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes at the questions. There was no way in hell that you’d let that happen. As much as you loved being pregnant with your daughter, your back and your legs were killing you, your stomach was covered in stretch marks that only seemed to be getting bigger and darker every single day, and you’d love to be able to go at least an hour and a half without having to run to the bathroom. 

“Don’t jinx me.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair before turning to the fridge and grabbing a drink. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I cannot wait to get my period again.” As if on queue, and maybe even being slightly insulted by your words, your daughter kicked quite hard, hard enough that it had you choking on and coughing out the water that you had just taken a sip of. 

“She mad at you.” Hongjoong continued to tease all while rubbing your back and intermittently asking you if you were okay, to which you nodded your head and told him you were. And it was the truth, you were okay. It seemed like forever since you were able to just be okay with everything that happened. Maybe it wasn’t that you were actually okay with it, more like you had just come to terms with the fact that you’d probably never hear from Chan again, that he’d never want anything to do with you. It hurt more than anything to come to that realization, to really let it settle in that the two of you were no more, but you also knew that holding onto a false sense of hope for that relationship to come back would only cause more damage to yourself emotionally. 

“You wanna go out for lunch or something?” You asked once you had finally got the air back into your lungs and the tears wiped from your eyes. The last time you had gone out for lunch with Hongjoong was when you were still living with Chan. It had been guilt keeping the both of you from doing something like that again, but you were turning over a new leaf, it was time for you to live your life and let go of the anchor that was holding you back, keeping you emotionally docked to a man that clearly didn’t want anything to do with you or his child. 

Hongjoongs eyes widened for only a second before he nodded his head. Maybe he was beginning to feel the same way. To him, it was clear that Chan wasn’t coming back, and the guilt that had previously kept him from doing anything even remotely close to the likes of dating was beginning to fade away. “Of course, anything you want.” He said, a smile creeping up onto his face as he said it. This was normal, or at least the new normal for you, and maybe in the process there would come new love along with the new life that you were bringing into the world. You could only hope that that was the case. 

“And then Wooyoung and San-” Hongjoong was continuing his story from across the table when you felt it. The sharp pain that you knew wasn’t a kick or a punch from your little girl. It had you momentarily blacking out and seeing stars as a sharp gasp replaced the scream that threatened to pour from your lips. “Y/N?” Your name rushed out of Hongjoongs mouth as he got up from his chair, so fast that it tipped back, but he was by your side before it had even hit the floor. 

The wetness that pooled between your legs was sign enough that not only was your body, but she was ready to come out. “Hospital…” You breathlessly said the word, your eyes prickling with tears as you looked up at Hongjoong, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises that you had learned in the lamaze class that he went to with you. It was harder than you thought when so much seemed to be happening at once, you could barely even focus on your breathing, let alone the breathing that someone else had taught you to do. 

“Right… Yeah… Of course… Oh shit.” Hongjoong stammered out the words, looking around the small restaurant in a state of panic, as if one of the unfortunate people who were now watching you would know what to do. It didn’t take long for a couple other women to come over and try to help you, some of them were on their phones already asking for an ambulance. “Thank you…” Hongjoong whispered to the women, thankful that he could now turn his attention solely back to you while you both waited for the ambulance. 

By the time the ambulance did come, there were so many people surrounding you and Hongjoong, trying to comfort you, console you, calm you, literally anything as the pains got worse and worse. Contractions, as you were told, were painful, and the only thing you could really do was try to breathe through them until they stopped. The only problem was that they came so frequently that you didn’t have time to catch your breath before another one had you doubling over and gripping onto Hongjoongs hand even tighter. 

It wasn’t just the contractions though, there was something else, something that you couldn’t even fully understand, but you just knew… Something was wrong. You could feel it, or moreso, you couldn’t feel anything. You thought that with the amount of contractions and everything that was going on that your daughter would be moving around just as frantically as everyone else in the room right now, but you couldn’t feel anything. “Please… hurry… There’s something wrong… Please…” Was all you managed to say to the paramedics as they helped get you out of your chair and onto a gurney. 

“Everything is alright.” One of the paramedics said, but they didn’t know, they weren’t you, they weren’t going through this right now. You hated how they tried to make everything seem okay when it wasn’t. You weren’t stupid, and you knew your body better than anyone else. There was something wrong, and they needed to get you to the hospital as fast as possible instead of trying to fill your head with false hope. “We’ll be there soon, just keep breathing.” As if you had any other choice… It was all you could do. Just breathe until you get to the hospital, and hope and pray that your feeling was wrong. 

The baby is in distress. We have to get her out quickly. Set up the room. Get her ready. 

Hongjoong stood off to the side watching as doctors and nurses circled around you like vultures. He couldn’t watch as they poked you and prodded at you like some kind of lab experiment, and the only thing he felt was anxiety at the pure chaos that seemed to be unfolding around him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears and while he wanted to stand next to you and be there for you and hold your hand, every time he even got remotely close he’d be pushed back and replaced by another doctor that needed to check you over. 

“Call him…” You said loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, and while the doctors didn’t even pause to let you talk to him, he had heard you through the noise and the commotion. He knew what you meant, and he knew exactly who you were talking about. He wasn’t sure why you’d want him to be there, unless you truly thought that something bad was going to happen to yourself, the baby, or the both of you, but he knew that, out of respect for Chan, he had to do it. 

He nodded slowly, hesitant to step out of the room, but he knew that there wasn’t much that he could really do from inside the room either, and it’s not like he could make a phone call with all the noise, so he silently slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. Would Chan even answer his phone? Even if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d be alone, and if something horrible did happen, that would be something that Chan would have to live with for the rest of his life. 

The ringing lasted for a good bit, or maybe it was just the fact that time didn’t seem relative in this situation and a second seemed to last for an hour for Hongjoong, but when the ringing finally came to a stop and he heard a soft sigh through the speaker on his phone, he knew that Chan had finally picked up. “Y/N is in labor… She wanted me to call you. It’s not… going well… She wants you here.” 

It was vague, but it got the point across. To be honest, Hongjoong didn’t have the slightest idea of what was truly going on back in the room, he heard the words, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them, they made no sense to him. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Chan shakily asked, and while everything around Hongjoong seemed to be moving in slow motion, the sounds coming through his phone made it seem like Chan was in a world in double speed. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know anything. She just wants you here. She wanted me to call you. She’s scared, I’m scared… I’m sorry, hyung.” He whimpered, tear drops spilling over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks. “Please come fast… I think they’re moving her…” They were both crying, that much was obvious, the sound of choked off sobs only slightly muffled by the car engine that rumbled through the speaker. 

This felt a great deal like karma, although neither of the guys knew who it was coming after. Was it Hongjoong for unintentionally stealing away the family of another man, or was it Chan for being so oblivious to the blessings that he had been given that he let them be taken from him? Why would it go after you though? You and the innocent baby that didn’t know anything about what was going on around her? None of it made sense. 

Silence filled the call, neither men speaking, but soon that silence was interrupted by the door being pulled open and the commotion that Hongjoong had temporarily removed himself from now flooded into the hallway. “These are your scrubs, follow us.” A doctor hurriedly handed Hongjoong the blue suit and then turned their attention back to the hospital bed that was being wheeled out of the room. Nurses followed behind, carrying the IV bag that you were still attached to, but now there was an oxygen mask over your face, although it wasn’t connected to anything, not yet at least. “There isn’t much time, hurry.” The doctor said, looking back at Hongjoong who was in a state of shock seeing you like this. 

“What’s going on? I’m almost there… Hongjoong?” Chan finally spoke up, but there was nothing that Hongjoong could say. He still didn’t know what was going on, but now it felt like he was on limited time, and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the phone with Chan when he could be spending this time with you, or beside you… He should be there for you, and maybe Chan knew this, or maybe he just didn’t want you to go through this alone. “Go… I’ll get there soon… Don’t leave her…” 

Sitting in the waiting room was Chan who had run through the hospital doors like a bat out of hell, pushing through people just to get to the front desk only to be told that he couldn’t even go back and see you. He was left with so many questions and no answers, fears that clouded his mind and made the sound of the television right above his head seem like nothing more than a low drone that was everything but calming. 

There was no comfort found in the pristine white walls or the nose burning bleach smell from the overly sanitized floors. There was no solace felt when looking at the scenic paintings that hung along the walls. There was only a sense of looming dread that hung over him. To lose everything before he had even gotten it, to not even have had the chance to enjoy the time with you and his unborn daughter because he had so carelessly given it away just to chase his career.

“Sir…” Pulled from his thoughts by the low, almost mousy voice of the receptionist, he finally looked up at her. “You can go back now.” Was this a light at the end of the tunnel, or was it just the high beams of a car racing through only meant to give him some sense of false hope before he was crashed into? 

Every step was slow, giving him time to prepare himself for whatever it was that he’d walk in on. Would you be okay or had he lost you? Had he lost his daughter? Were you both gone? Was he only allowed to come in just to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be sick? To be led into a room where everything that he truly loved lay lifeless and cold… He wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wasn’t even able to handle the thought of that. 

Hongjoong stood outside a door, his hair disheveled and his eyes reddened from crying. His cheeks and his nose looked raw, and his lips were chapped… But he was smiling. There was no sadness in his eyes, he wasn’t wearing the look of someone that he just witnessed something so horrifyingly devastating that Chan couldn’t even think of it. “They’re sleeping…” Hongjoong whispered, letting out an exasperated chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair for presumably the thousandth time today. “But they’re okay… They’re okay.” He repeated the words as if he himself needed the reassurance. 

“Wh-... What happened?” Chan stammered, still left with a whirlwind of questions, but did it even matter what had happened? As long as you and his daughter were alright, that’s all that was important to him. “Is the baby in there? Can I see her?” Hongjoong shook his head no, and for a moment Chan thought that he was saying that he couldn’t see his daughter, but Hongjoong quickly motioned down the hall with his head. 

“They have her in the nursery right now… They still want to check her over, make sure that there’s no issues. I… I wish I could tell you what all happened but… I couldn’t even ask questions and… I was so scared. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t make it in time to see it… I never want to see something like that ever again…” Hongjoong rambled, his head shaking so fast like he was trying to rid his mind of whatever images now plagued it. How bad had it been? 

“Can I go in the room?” Chan asked, and Hongjoong paused, looking between Chan and the door before nodding his head. “Thank you… Thank you for taking care of her, and being there for her… And giving her everything that I failed to give.” Chan murmured, his hand freezing on the doorknob, eyes welling up with tears as he dropped his head. “You’re a better man than I am… And she deserves better… So does my daughter…” 

He didn’t give Hongjoong time to respond, he wanted to get in the room and see you, make sure you were okay, and then go see his daughter to make sure she was okay as well before heading back home. He didn’t intend on staying, not because he didn’t want to, but he was sure that you wouldn’t truly want him around now that the nightmare was over. He had hurt you and pushed you away, he didn’t even feel like he should be there. 

“Hey…” Your voice was soft, not intentionally, but you were groggy and tired, as he expected you to be after going through this. “You finally made it… Took long enough.” You scoffed, and Chan could only sigh. If only you knew the amount of accidents that he had dodged, the amount of tears he had shed just to get here, just to wait for the clearance to come into the room and see you. He would have argued it, but he found no point in fighting against you, not right now. “Did you get to see her yet?” You asked, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as his top teeth sank down into his bottom lip. “Did I interrupt your work?” 

Were you truly questioning it or was it just a jab at the fact that he had chosen work over you and the baby in the beginning? He wasn’t sure considering your voice didn’t really give way to any emotion other than exhaustion. “No… You didn’t interrupt anything. I was at home.” He said softly, and it felt like he was walking on a thin layer of ice. Any wrong move and he’d fall through. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.” 

“You’re a busy person… I understand that you can’t make it.” You said as nonchalantly as ever, as if you were just talking about the weather. “You should go see her before you have to go again. I’m not sure when your schedule will free up so… If you want me to send pictures of her to you I will…” You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes gazing far off into the distance, out the window of your little room. Was it because you’d get sad if you looked at him? Or would you just get really angry? How was it so easy for Hongjoong to juggle both his work and his life? Why was it so hard for Chan to do the same thing? Did he even have a chance to try to prove to you that he was sorry or had Hongjoong already made his way into the space in your heart that Chan thought was reserved for him? 

“I never stopped thinking about you… About the baby… I never stopped thinking about how much of an idiot I was for leaving you… For letting you leave.” Chan began, and he saw your tongue push against the inside of your cheek, something that you did when you were thinking just a little bit too hard. What were you thinking about? “And I know that right now isn’t the best time to be coming to you and telling you this. I should have come to you the day after you left… I shouldn’t have even let you walk out that door. But I love you, and I love our baby… And that dream that we created together… I still want that with you. I want to be with you, I want to have a family with you… I want so much for you to just be home again.” He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to hide the fact that he was getting teared up. “I want our home to be the home that you bring our daughter to when you both get discharged… But I know that I’m too late…” 

For the first time since he had walked into the room, you looked at him. Your head turned slowly to let your eyes, filled with confusion, fall upon him. “What do you mean you’re too late? I’m not dead, Chan. I had a c-section… and while it still feels sore and I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch later… I’m still alive.” You said it as if that were the only thing he should be worried about, but he knew that Hongjoong was just outside the door, and maybe you were just trying to play dumb to protect Chans feelings, although he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like that considering the hell that he put you through. 

“I know that you and Hongjoong are together… You don’t have to hide it or pretend…” Chan mumbled, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before letting out a loud, heavy sigh. “He’s better for you anyway. He was always there for you… He was there for the baby before she was even born… There’s no way that I can compete with him. I understand that he took my place… But I do love you, and… if it’s okay with him… I would like to still be in her life… I want to watch her… grow up… I want to be there for birthdays and holidays and-” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” You cut him off with the question, your eyebrows arched and your face had shock written across it. “Hongjoong and I aren’t together. Holy shit, Chan.” You let out a scoff that sounded more like you were trying to hold in your laughter. “Is that why you didn’t try to get in touch with me? Because you thought that he and I were… together?” You quizzed, and Chan mumbled out a sheepish yes in response. “So you’re telling me… We could have been together… through the better half of the last portion of my pregnancy… But we weren’t because you thought I started dating Hongjoong?” 

Chans hands flew to his face and his head fell back as he let out a loud groan. “Yes. Yes! I was stupid! I let my assumptions get the best of me and I missed out on the birth of my daughter because of that. Is that what you want to hear? I’m stupid!” His head shook before he let it drop down, his eyes lingering on the lines between the floor tiles. “Why didn’t you message me though? What was keeping you from reaching out… Not that it was your job to, considering what had happened… but… If you missed me and wanted me there for all of that… Why didn’t you text me or call me?” 

Now it was you who grew quiet, your hand that was free of the IV running through your hair as your eyes bore into him, and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel the heat of your gaze from across the room. “Because you told me to leave… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was devastated that you just let me walk out, and it made me feel like you wouldn’t care if I tried to get in contact with you anyway. I was pregnant, and I never felt so alone in my life, even with Hongjoong there to help me. All I wanted was you. But I was scared that you’d tell me to leave you alone and… I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection, not from you.” 

His heart sank at the revelation of how you truly felt, and he couldn’t believe how far it was from the truth. He still had one more question though, one that seemed to be burning brighter now that he knew how you felt. “Why did you call me today? Not that I’m mad about it but… what made you want to see me now?” 

The sudden sound of you sniffling filled the room, and you fumbled with the edge of your blankets as you took a few shaky breaths. “Because… I thought something was wrong… That something would go wrong and… Even if you hated me, I needed you here. I was scared that I would die… That she… You know… And I just needed you.” Your voice broke at the end and the sniffles turned to full sobs as your head dropped and your hair curtained your face. 

He ran over to your bedside, grabbing your hand, for the moment completely forgetting that he hadn’t been around at all, the only thing he wanted now was to be there for you, to show you that he loved you. “I’m here now… You’re okay, she’s okay… I don’t want you to think of those things anymore… okay?” He whispered, petting his fingers over your hair and tucking it behind your ears before tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through… But I want to be here now, if you’ll give me that chance. Just one more chance… Please…” 

Perm Tags :

@whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin

@his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67

@randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix

@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @karlitaburrito @laylasbunbunny @chimicurri-a

People who asked to be tagged in this fic specifically :

@chanssmiles @hanschimpmunk @zerefdragn33l @aloverga @minciel93 @aeikly @possumy @clausatur @pinkies-things @vickyyoon @jaquisos

[impactedfates]

hello! platonic astral express (mostly welt and dan heng) + jing yuan with a teen reader like collei?

they were used as an experiment from a very young young thankfully the crew/jing yuan found and rescued them, they also took them in but they were still traumatized from their time as an experiment,they are chronically ill which makes them weak and are scared of being touched due to their time as an experiment subject

★ A/N: Colleis backstory makes me so sad :(( I love her sm. Characters here are just Dan Heng, Welt and Jing Yuan

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort (kinda?)

★ Format: Mini Scenarios (Separate)

☆ Warnings: Implied torture + human experiments on reader // Scar/injuries mentions

★ Extra: Reader is shorter then characters // Reader is with the Express

Dan Heng is very careful around you, whether or not he sees himself as threatening he doesn't know if YOU'D see him as threatening. He could quickly tell how untrustworthy you were when the Express found you. And based on the scars scattered around your body, some clearly new as it seems they were inflicted on you recently and how you held up a make shift dagger towards them, you seem to have a very good reason not to trust them.

It takes some time but eventually Himeko and Welt do manage to gain your trust and let you on board so they can give you a better life then what you had experienced.

Dan Heng makes sure to always be gentle with you and helps you when you need help, he himself isn't much of a touchy person himself but he still ensures to steer clear from any touches, even the lighter ones.

He allows you in the databanks, especially when you have nightmares. He has them himself, although he isn't completely sure about what the nightmare is about, he'll never pry. Only comfort you.

He's also a bit more hesitant to show his dragon form, he doesn't want to potentially scare you but if there comes a time where he for any reason NEEDS to get into that form, he'll inform you and if you want he'll ask March or the Trailblazer to bring you away.

Overall: Dan Heng is careful around you, making sure that whatever he does doesn't trigger you in anyway - he makes sure he doesn't touch you, even slightly and comforts you if you ever have nightmares. He thinks a lot of his actions through just encase it may affect you negatively.

Welt was the first to attempt to gain your trust, his fatherly instincts kicked in as soon as he saw you, he could tell despite the face you put up to try and scare the others behind that was a scared child.

So he was patient with you, took the time to gain your trust, carefully tended to your injuries when you allowed him and as soon as you were comfortable to be on the express. He became your father, whether or not there was any paperwork done or not, you have eventually seen him as your father.

Due to his age (*cough cough* grandpa *cough cough*) he's very smart, so he takes the time to teach you, if you don't understand he'll go over it again and make sure he does it in a way that you'll understand.

He can tell that most of your childhood seems to be lost. So he attempts to make you smile, experience a good childhood you seemed to have missed.

He can also tell that your chronically ill, you're more weaker then others so he offers to get you a cane, something that can provide aid for you so it's hopefully more bearable for you, and if you ever get to weak for even that? He's more then happy to carry you, he'll always ask first as he does know you're a bit more hesitant on being held or touched in general.

If you ever have nightmares he'll make you some tea and listen to you about what it was, even if you decided to not tell him he'll keep you company.

Overall: Welt is a very patient man, who became your unofficial father, knowing that your childhood was seemingly mostly lost he tries to make up for it and he also teaches you the basics of everything. He offers a cane to hopefully help you with your more weak body.

When Jing Yuan first met you, he knew something was wrong. Whether or not you looked better then how you looked before meeting the Express, he's still a General and can catch a lot of things. He won't pry at all but when you're not around will ask about it. He's worried, a child so young and it seems like you've been hurt more then you've smiled?

He doesn't wish to pry, he knows it's none of his business but the fact he knows something bad happened to you and likely at a young age doesn't please him one bit.

Just like Welt, he's patient with you. He's also very careful around you. One time when he was supervising you he happened to summon Lightning Lord as some enemies tried to ambush you and this seemed to send you into a panic, Jing Yuan quickly made sure the enemies were gone before checking on you, being careful not to touch you but still finding a way to comfort you.

Whether or not he manages to calm you down is up to you, however you'll end up with a blanket wrapped around you in the comforts of his office. He'll give you various of games you can play, books or whatever. If you want to try a new hobby he'll get someone to get anything needed for it.

Overall: I think he's similar to Welt however he does sometimes scare you unintentionally. Whether it be due to having to summon Lighting Lord or even hearing him talk in his more "General" voice, he does feel bad though. He doesn't mean to scare you and if you're around he does try not to do either.

Sorry if this take a while to do wrjggdvg. This was slightly difficult to write as I wasn't too sure what direction to take but hopefully this is okay!

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[daiziesssart]

a humiliatingly long character analysis of lily evans

Someone sent me an ask that briefly mentioned how misunderstood Lily is, and before I knew it I was typing out this monster. I am. sorry. This is literally just me rambling about her, what I find compelling about her character, and why her character is so often misunderstood.

This is long as hell so I'm putting it under a read more lolol

Part of the reason I like Lily so much (other than my being ginger and projecting onto any redheaded female character I see) is that even though she isn’t explored as much as her other Marauders Era counterparts, we know enough about her to start building the framework for her character. And what I see is a girl who was incredibly interesting, kind, and flawed.

One thing I always think about in regards to Lily is that she was dealt with a pretty unfair hand. As soon as she receives her letter, she’s basically torn between two worlds, both of which have been less than welcome to her. On one hand, we have the muggle world that she’s known all her life, but once she starts integrating into the wizarding world, she likely feels a bit of a disconnect with that world. To twist the knife further, her sister- whom she loved dearly and grew up so close with- starts outwardly resenting her with such unbridled hostility that they likely couldn’t even be in a room alone together without major conflict. 

On the other hand, we have the wizarding world– a world she’s not as familiar with and one she soon learns holds a demographic of people who hate everything she is and would rather see her excommunicated or even dead. And even though finding out you’re a witch/wizard is probably such an exciting and life-changing moment, I can’t help but also take note of the difficulties, especially if you’re the only one in your family with magic. You’re essentially uprooted from the only way of life you’ve known at an already complicated age, and now you have to quickly become acclimated to this new world that you only just found out existed. Not only that, but now you’re suddenly attending a school with classes that are primarily focused on this world of magic (which is still brand new to you), and you have to work extra hard to play catch up in order to do well. Like, that all seems like… a lot for a kid to handle.

And then I remember how young she was when she was thrown into that mess. She was only 11, and kids that age desperately crave any sense of belonging. I mean, that’s something that still holds true for adults, but it’s especially critical for a developing child. So imagine Lily, ages 11-15, struggling to stay afloat in this weird purgatory between these two parts of herself, both of which have been the cause for major and traumatic experiences relating to rejection in her life.

(I say it was the “cause” even though it’s obvious that those things were never her fault at all, but when you’re a young kid navigating the world, the only thing you’re able to process is that the common denominator is you, therefore you’re the one who must shoulder the blame.)

So now we have this tween-teenaged girl who has a dysfunctional relationship with two major parts of identity and probably feels absolutely lost. 

This is why her hesitancy to end her friendship with Snape makes sense to me. Even though by fifth year he’s already well past toeing the line with the dark arts, Lily was willing to overlook some pretty egregious and troubling things in order to maintain the relationship. I kind of interpret that as her way of desperately clinging on to any sense of belonging she has left; her relationship with Petunia has already been poisoned, and now there are people who resent her existence as a witch; if she loses Severus too, what and who else does she have? And what tone does that set for her, if everyone and everything she’s come to hold close to her ends up turning her away?

It’s also important to note that not only is Severus one of her few remaining connections to the muggle world, but he’s also a wizard who grew up in the muggle world; he understands her, and I don’t doubt that he gave her some stability at times when she needed it (her finding out about her being a witch, her having trouble acclimating to the wizarding world, etc).

I see this as being one of her flaws and I can actually appreciate how relatable and realistic it feels. Lily is not a bad person; on the contrary, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone to describe her as such. Not to get all clinical and boring, but the interesting thing about (unhealthy) coping mechanisms is that it can actually be really hard to identify them in your own behavior. Unless you’re in therapy and/or are actively psychoanalyzing yourself, you likely don’t even realize how many of your common behaviors are born from self defense mechanisms put in place by your brain after past events.

To me, it makes sense why she avoided actually confronting the idea that Snape was too far gone. We know that she was aware of the path Severus was taking, but it almost seems like she was still convinced that she could save him, and could possibly steer him back in the right direction. It’s only when she becomes the target of his bigotry that she realizes that the Snape who called her a ‘mudblood’ was not the same Severus who was the one who held her hand and introduced her to this new, exciting world.

In a general sense, yes, it is selfish, to only take a stand when something starts affecting you personally. But I also think it’s important to note that it’s unlikely that this was a conscious decision on Lily’s part. In my eyes, it was easier to delude herself into thinking she still had a chance to save him before it was too late when she was able to separate him from his actions (considering, a lot of the time, she was only hearing about them after the fact, rather than seeing them firsthand). But the elusion is shattered once she sees that the Snape she grew up with– her friend, Severus– is, in fact, the same person who’s out there calling other students slurs, dismissing the malicious use of Dark Magic on others as just “a laugh”. There we see a Lily who is actually revealed to have been somewhat aware of Snape’s involvement with the darker side of magic, and genuinely feels pretty ashamed about her inaction.

Also, this is in no way me being a Snape-anti, and I actually could do an entire separate analysis on his character alone and why I find him so interesting.

Anyways, that moment in SWM is probably somewhat of an epiphany to her. It’s like a dam that’s been broken, and now she’s overwhelmed with the realization of exactly how much she overlooked in order to keep their friendship afloat. And for someone like Lily Evans, someone whom we know is opinionated and unafraid to call others out on their bullshit, that can be hard to swallow and feel pretty mortifying and shameful. And I think this was a huge turning point for her- at that point, she doesn’t have the luxury of avoiding uncomfortable truths anymore and now that she’s getting closer to graduating and being thrown out into the world on the brink of war, this was probably a really sobering discovery.

This is where we don’t have as much info to go off of, and a lot of it is up to interpretation. But we actually have little crumbs to go off of following her graduation and leading up to her death.

One of my favorite little tidbits isn’t in the books, and @seriousbrat's post reminded me about it. Here's the actual entry on Pottermore for anyone who's interested, but I'll summarize: after James and Lily began dating, Lily brings James to meet newly engaged Petunia and Vernon. Everything goes downhill, because Vernon is a smarmy asshole, and James is still pretty immature and can’t help but mess with him (which… fair, I guess). Petunia and Vernon storm out after Petunia letting Lily know that she had no intentions of having her as a bridesmaid, which causes Lily to break down into tears. I mention this because I also think it’s a pretty important aspect of her character; like we’ve seen in her past friendship with Snape, Lily seems more than willing to forgive others most of the time. Petunia is a bit of a complicated character herself, but she was objectively very cruel and unfair to Lily once it became obvious that she was a witch and Petunia was not.

Something that always stands out to me is just how desperate Lily is to earn Petunia’s trust and approval again. Even up until her death, she was more than willing to mend the relationship, were Petunia ever to consider. 

This is a detail about Lily that I feel is misunderstood quite a bit. I’ve seen a lot of instances of her character being reduced to a one-dimensional archetype with little to no complexity. And often, that archetype is “know-it-all, prudish, self righteous bookworm who is also a goody two-shoes with a stick up her ass”. What annoys me is that the reason for this is most definitely the scene in which she blows up at James in SWM for bullying Snape, and hurls quite a few insults at him directly after an extremely devastating and overwhelming situation for her. This frustrates me because we know for a fact that she’s the polar opposite of this archetype I’ve seen her reduced to. 

In actuality, she’s referred to as popular, charming, witty, bright and kind. From flashbacks we also are shown that she’s opinionated, bold, and not afraid to challenge others. With other context, like her interpersonal relationships, we can also see that she’s pretty emotionally driven and wears her heart on her sleeve. 

(I know Remus didn’t mention Lily much in the books, but I really love how he described her in the movies. He tells Harry that the first thing he noticed about him was not his striking resemblance to his father, but his eyes, the same eyes Lily had. He also calls her a “singularly gifted witch” and an “uncommonly kind woman”.

“She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even and perhaps most especially, when that person could not see it in themselves.”

I know there are mixed feelings on whether or not the films count as canon source material, so take it with a grain of salt, but I personally cannot see a world in which Lily and Remus didn’t become close friends.)

Here we have a direct description of what she was like and who she was, corroborated by recounting of memories of her, and yet for some reason, this feels like the thing that is most commonly lost in translation.

I don’t think I can say why I think that is without mentioning the dreaded M word (misogyny- it’s misogyny), but I also don’t want to get too off topic so I’ll be brief: female characters are typically not given the same grace as male characters. When we have an undeveloped male character, he’s awarded the assumption that despite his lack of depth, there still exists a complex and multifaceted character– it’s merely just potential that hasn’t been tapped into. Whereas when we have underdeveloped female characters, they are taken at face value, meaning that not much exists beyond the little information we have of them. They are not presumed to have a life or a story that exists beyond the surface of what we know like male characters are. That’s why I think characters like Regulus, Evan, or Barty (just to name a few) are more popular than Lily, despite being less developed than she is.

(Before anyone gets defensive, no, I don’t think it’s an individual problem that you alone need to be shamed for. I think it’s the result of a deeper issue regarding misogyny in media as a concept; these are things that we’ve all unknowingly internalized and while it’s not our fault, we still have to do the work to deconstruct those learned prejudices.)

What I find really cool about her character is that despite how much she’s been hurt, she’s also still known as one of the most loving, kind, and considerate characters. There were so many times in her life where the love she received was conditional and ripped away from her– and I think that’s what makes her sacrifice even more poignant. She was able to protect her infant son from an extremely powerful dark wizard, wand-less, knowing that her husband was just murdered in cold blood, just from how much love she felt for Harry. Her love was a force of nature on its own, and I just think that’s such an amazing thing about her. 

I know I’m biased, given that she’s one of my favorite characters, but even upon delving into this, I still just find it so incredibly hard to understand how anyone can actively hate her (not indifference, but actual dislike). In my opinion (again, no one is unbiased, and she is a favorite character of mine, but trust me when I say that I’m trying to be objective as possible when I say this), she’s probably one of the most likable characters of the Marauders Era. I think perhaps a lot of people haven’t given her a chance or really taken the time to learn about her character, but it could be a myriad of other reasons that I’ll never understand. 

There's so much more I could say but this is long enough and I will stop myself

Lily Evans, u will always be famous to me

[arepitademanteca]

Transformers Prime has a disappointing fandom

I have never been so disappointed with a fandom as much as now…

After being a part of fandoms like The Owl House and Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and having absorbed the endless anguish of their most tragic characters artistically reflected by their fandom, I can say that it is disrespectful to Transformers Prime that it is not made enough anguish.

Where are the Bumblebee fanfics, fanarts, analysis?

HE HAS ALL THE JUICY CHARACTERISTICS OF A TRAGIC CHARACTER WITH EXPLOITABLE ANGUISH:

1) In several chapters the other bots express themselves and refer to him as much younger than them. HE IS A CHILD SOLDIER.

2) He was interrogated and tortured by the leader of the enemy group, with whom he had to continue fighting constantly.

3) As a result of the torture his larynx was destroyed, and the level of damage was so brutal that his voice box could not be repaired for millennia.

4) He was forced to leave his home planet because it had been destroyed and he had to take refuge on another planet. Now he is not only a child soldier, but he is a political refugee.

5) One of his comrades in arms, friend and family member died without him being able to do anything to prevent it. Obviously Bumblebee has lost many more teammates and friends in the past, considering how small Team Prime is.

6) He had to watch his leader/father figure almost die from an infection and the only way to save him was by entering the mind of the guy who tortured and incapacitated him to obtain information.

7) He was possessed by that same guy (seriously, Megatron leaves the kid alone) and forced him to hurt two of his friends, and everything else Bumblebee went through in the middle of the possession is up for interpretation, FANDOM WAKE UP.

8) THE SAME GUY WHO INTERROGED, TORTURED, MUTILATED, INCAPACITATED AND POSSESSED HIM, attacked him for fun and on the spot fatally injured his best friend/protege/younger human brother. Then the child abuser made fun of him in his face for it.

9) Not even 24 hours had passed when the unmentionable went to his hiding place, his SAFE PLACE, in search of an alliance, which he then betrayed because he kidnapped Bumblebee's father figure in front of his eyes.

10) He is mutilated again, he temporarily loses his T-cog, his feelings of insecurity within the group deepen slightly and when he goes to retrieve his T-cog he sees how it is almost destroyed. No one talks about Bumblebee literally holding one of his organs in his hands, it's like you see someone hugging his lung or something.

YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN, that apathy towards oneself and dehumanization (?) has POTENTIAL, if the child did not mind having an organ of HIS in his hands, I can already imagine how he reacts and treats his physical and emotional wounds. He is the type of character who hides his injuries, jokes about his traumas and in doing so traumatizes everyone around him, has a terrible sleep schedule due to nightmares, frequently dissociates, and has zero sense of self-preservation (canon).

11) This is not a trauma, but it also has the potential to cause distress in the fact that he was probably used to getting more attention for being the youngest, but suddenly this guy, Smokescreen, the same age as him, appears, and Everyone expects Bumblebee to be the one to guide the rookie, so every time the rookie makes a mistake, it will be Bumblebee's fault. Also, the new guy who never actively participated in the war, compared to Bee, who was born and fought in it all his life, turns out to be the one chosen to be the next Prime. Actually?

12) The base where he lived most of his time on earth was destroyed. It may not sound that bad, but as someone who recently lost their home to armed conflict, I can tell you that it hurts a lot.

13) He was separated from his team for a few days and when he found one of his teammates, his second father figure tells him to go away, to stay away and discourages him. Bumblebee must have felt bad because the one who convinced Ratchet to help them was not him, but Raf.

14) Other traumatic things must have happened that I don't remember, the last time I saw the series was in 2022, okAY?

15) They kidnapped their second father figure.

16) THE SAME ONE WHO INTERROGED HIM, TORTURED, MUTILATED, DISABLED, POSSESSED, HARMED HIM AND HIS FRIEND FOR FUN, KIDNAPPED HIS TWO PARENTS AND DESTROYED HIS PLANET, shot him three times, almost four, in the chest and killed him temporarily.

17) Megatron deserved it and it was more than satisfying and well done that it was Bumblebee who killed him, put an end to his power and the war, but knowingly killing can be traumatizing. Bumblebee killing Megatron in retaliation is also an ignored trauma.

18) He had to see Megatron's revived body being controlled by a god of destruction, who seemed to have something personal against him. At one point during the chase, Bumblebee thought his friends were dead.

19) He became the team leader in Optimus' absence, he was inexperienced and as a result he had two anxiety attacks in the same scene.

20) Optimus, his father figure, sacrifices himself to revive the planet.

so whERE ARE MY FANFICS? If anyone has recommendations, wants to write something individually or wants to collaborate, please write to me. This can't stay like this friends, Transformers Prime is not going to return as we would like, we the fandom have to bring it back.

Pd: English is not my native language nor do I have command over it, do not judge me for any error or lack of logic

gracias

[dadrielle]

I can't stop thinking about just how emblematic everything in those conversations of Ashton being "a child" are of how, even at her most beaten down, triggered and traumatized, Laudna is not and will not be what Delilah wants her to be.

For Delilah, "they're still a child" is dismissive, a bit derisive, but doesn't even merit being truly hateful. She doesn't find Ashton worth the attention Laudna is giving them, not when there are such more interesting, important things to pull the attention of an adult. Children are only important when they are useful. She will indulge Laudna on the subject, because Laudna is useful, is her vehicle for action in the world, but she only cares about it in the context of getting Laudna to do what she wants. Calling someone a child is calling them unimportant. (Laudna is a child to her)

But for Laudna, who loves children and who understands intimately what it's like to have the helplessness of child, to be trapped under the authority of someone who will never treat you as a full person, even when they are being ostensibly kind, to be so confused and lost and powerless...a child deserves attention more than anyone else. Of course children lash out. Being a child IS in many ways quite awful because the world is so big around you and you don't know yet how to react to any of it, how to soothe yourself - and if you aren't given the attention, you never learn how. Ashton never learned how. Her instincts - instincts trained into her by manipulation and abuse from inside and the world around her - may say kill him, but she fights them the whole way because her heart is stronger and her heart says that the angriest, most volatile child needs care as much as any other. More, even.

Laudna hears Delilah call Ashton a child and agrees on the word, but they have diametrically opposed understandings of what that means, and diametrically opposed instincts on how to treat a child. Laudna doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially children. She loves children. She loves so much and so selflessly. And Delilah is so very very good at manipulating her but she has tried for 30 years to change the bedrock of Laudna's psyche, the truer thing that drives her beyond the base animal instincts of survival, and it hasn't worked.

[jerzwriter]

OK to the heartless demons who have asked why the “baby girl” scene in The Last of Us has destroyed me. (I’m being cheeky about heartless demons, but seriously, I’m flummoxed over this.)

This is the first time in Ellie’s life that she has someone who truly loves her. Someone who cares enough to risk their own life, they will gladly kill to protect her. And not because she is the potential golden child who holds the cure to the cordyceps infection, but because they LOVE HER. She means that much to them. They know that being forced to endure life without her would be a torture they’re not willing to accept.

The look in her eyes when David told her she has no father… the pain was palpable (God bless Bella Ramsey). We know she’s terrified of ending up alone. We know that everyone she has ever cared for has left her one way or another. She’s been alone her whole life and it’s the one thing she does not want to be.

She loves Joel, and he is one-hundred percent her father figure, but they’re both so guarded in protection of themselves. The pain and loss each has endured too profound to allow them to be vulnerable. But where Ellie has built an outer-layer to protect herself, Joel has built a fortress and fortified that fucker so no one can get in. We’ve been watching their defenses fall each week, but the last two episodes has shown us just how much they’re willing to do to save the other.

David’s sadistic words and demonic actions have put poor Ellie through living hell. Then she emerges into a cold, unfamiliar wilderness… alone. She’s lost and traumatized. This BADASS girl is as close to broken as we have ever seen her. Then, Joel appears, and until she realizes it is him, she is horrified.

Now, the look in Joel’s eyes (God bless Pedro Pascal). The horror, the pain, the guilt that he couldn’t protect her. Seeing her broken breaks him, but the relief at finding her. The man is overwhelmed, but instead of retreating, he gives in. He holds her, comforts her, he lets the feelings wash over him and she feels SAFE.

“It’s OK, baby girl. I got you.”

She’s loved and protected for the first time in her life. Joel has not uttered the words baby girl, nor experienced that level of affection since he lost Sarah twenty years before. He has surrendered. He loves her. She has surrendered, she’s accepting his love. Then, both wounded in every way, they stumble off to face the unknown together.

HOW ISN’T EVERYONE IN THE FETAL POSITION BAWLING? I should have had my therapist on speed dial.

[peachesofteal]

The dead disco break up Pregnancy au got me in my feels all day. Literally all day.

And all I can think about is when the guys get home? Find her not at the apartment and they’re both like, “can’t blame her, I get it” and are over come with guilt. Their own relationship getting a little rocky. Maybe Johnny gets frustrated more easily with Simon. Simon withdrawals a little more into himself bc that’s how he handles pain and grief. But they make it through. They always do. Until they find out about darling and the baby. However that happens, be it in a grocery store or whatever. But Simon comes from a very traumatized childhood. He sees the baby and just knows. That’s their kid. And is overcome with so much grief bc now he’s no worse that his dad is he? What’s worse than someone that’s there and beats you? Someone that’s not there at all. Not knowing. And he has always promised himself he’d never be like his father, but than this is just too close to comfort.

I imagine he surprises not only himself but Johnny and darling the most when he ends up doing something drastic. There were no words he had to defend himself or Johnny. He’d be mature. Whatever it takes, whatever darling needed just let him be in his child’s life, let him be in your life, let him do better. Don’t LET HIM HAVE THIS WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS.

Darling would have more whiplash than Johnny but even Johnny is taken back by the lengths Simon would go? (Getting out the military? Domestic security and law enforcement jobs so he can be home? Idk?) but Simon just comes out of no where, with “I’m here. I’m not going no where. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right.” Bc he does love darling and he does love Johnny, but that kid? He’d move heaven and hell for that kid. It was Ryan Reynolds who was like “I love my wife, love her more than anything. Then we had our baby girls and realized I would use my wife as a human shield to protect my kids” As a joke of course but it’s to that extent. Simons 2 priority’s become taking care of that child and mending the relationship between the three of them, not bc he loves them (he totally does, and his devotion to his partners is infallible) BUT BECAUSE that kid needs to know what healthy relationships are based out of love and communication not grief and missed social cues and resentment.

Simon takes fatherhood seriously. Most serious job there is. And he’s not going to let darling’s (low key selfish) feelings of betrayal and self deprecation keep him from taking care of his child and said mother of that child.

———

Johnny however? He’s the one that’s hesitant surprisingly. He’s hurt. Beyond hurt that you wouldn’t tell them something like this. It’s the adult thing to at least say something right? Even if they did leave. This is more than them now. And he goes along with Simons initiative to fix all of this but Johnny needs some serious reassurance and maybe an outlet for all this anger and hurt he has. And there’s so much going on that it’s easy for Simon and darling to kinda miss that a little bit,

Until Johnny doesn’t want to hold the baby. Says he’s scared he’d drop it. But Simon knows better.

Johnny feels lost.

Darling feels lost.

Simon is their beacon of light in the darkness.

It comes down to the sexiest night known to human existence, and a lot of crying and confessions while fucking all those emotions out. Simon has always known how to get these two to let down their walls. Breakfast is for figuring out detail’s schedules ect. But that night? That was them fixing it. Letting go and moving forward. In the sexiest. Way. Possible.

^look what you’ve done to me. I’m serving alcohol at a bar thinking about these characters, THE DISTRACTION IS REAL AND I NEED MORE.

You’re fantastic. I hate you for doing this to my brain. Love ya!

Um… hi? Hello? Come back. Let’s talk about this more, let’s break it down. I am obsessed with this. I love this. 🩵🩵

Simon goes into protective overdrive the second he see’s you. Not sure how or when or where it happens, but Bee is not even two months old, and he doesn’t even need to ask you. She’s so little, cocooned in a linen wrap, cradled to your chest, and he already knows. How could that baby be anyone’s but their own?

He does exactly as you’ve described, drops everything and retires early. Price and Johnny always thought he’d make captain soon, but none of that matters now. His military aspirations have meant less and less every year since he met Johnny, and meeting you only sped his career’s ultimate demise along.

He’s not going to let the cycle repeat. He’s not going to let his child grow up and feel like they’ve been abandoned by him. He’s not going to let Bee grow up without him being there. Loving her. Supporting her. He won’t be his father. He refuses.

You agree to let them see her, and agree to let them take her for nights or days if they’d like. But you won’t let them in. Won’t do much more than co parent with them, won’t engage in anything real with them, won’t give them a single inch. You stonewall them, block them out, give them excuses and refusals at every turn. Sure, they can be in their daughter’s life… but they can’t be in yours.

While Bee is important, you are too. He wouldn’t use you as a shield to save her, he’d save you both. There’s no option. No choice. You’re the love of their lives, the now mother of his child. He’d lay down and die for you.

But none of that matters. You won’t let them in.

It drives Simon insane. He’s understanding, and mature about it, and patient (compared to Johnny, who’s running hot over it… frustrated, agitated, consistently visibly upset, holding onto his anger and resentment over the fact you never came forward and even told them about Bee. Johnny can’t get over that you went through everything alone… can’t understand why you wouldn’t tell them, give them a chance to be there for you.. and it stings. It hurts him, so fucking much, and that hurt melds into anger, it burns into his heart and twists his feelings until they’re a jumbled mess.) but he can’t seem to make you understand that they love you, that they thought about you everyday when they were gone, that they mourned the end of the relationship. It’s not just about the baby, they were coming back for you no matter what. They knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they weren’t meant to live their lives without you. They made a mistake.

But… they fucking abandoned you. And now they come back, and see that you have a baby and just decide they want to be back in your life? No. Absolutely not. They didn’t want you anymore, before Bee… nothing has changed. You won’t let yourself fall back into their grasp, and you’re so adamant about that that you fight them nearly at every turn. Can they take Bee? Sure. But “family trips” to the store? “Family trips” to the park? Not happening. You pack her diaper bag and kiss her goodbye, while Simon watches you with an intense scrutiny, eyes tracking your every step while he holds little Bee is his giant hand. He doesn’t miss a single thing, doesn’t miss the way your hands shake when you press a sweet kiss against her cheek, doesn’t miss the way your body moves sluggishly, like you’re exhausted, even after the nights they’ve had Bee, which means you should have gotten plenty of rest. Johnny just stands in the corner and stares at the floor, hands in his pockets during these exchanges, practically unwilling to engage with you in any way because he’s just so… upset with you, still. He’s better with Bee, loves her dearly, but can’t get past what he’s holding inside of himself, can’t get past how he feels so betrayed you, even though a part of him thinks he has no right to those feelings.

I love your last little bit - about the night Simon breaks you and Johnny apart and then puts you back together. There is something very similar/along those lines in the actual fic outline.

BUT ALSO… let’s imagine: They try to fix it. They try to get you to let them back in, to open up to them, to let them be there for you. As time goes on, Johnny changes, the red hot fire of anger that burns inside of him eventually goes out, lovingly smothered by Simon, and his resentment and feelings of betrayal all melt away. How could he ever have felt those things, when you were the one who was left all alone? Pregnant, with no way to contact them? He lets it all go, fully embracing parenting with you and Simon, trying to get back into your life, trying to love and support you from afar, any way they can. They start to notice a change in you… you seem a little happier, a little lighter on your feet, a little more relaxed and they think it might be working… that you finally might be growing more amenable about letting them in, about building back the relationship.

Until… they show up for Bee’s first birthday party, and there’s a man with his hand splayed on the small of you back in the backyard, holding you, tugging your body into his, while Bee shrieks and giggles on the blanket in the grass. There’s another man, watching their daughter, holding their darling girl close, while they stand in the doorway, shell shocked.

[starryknight-tarot]

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂?

pile 1 -- > pile 2

pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls✨ we are back in the building with another tarot reading. Today we will be looking into your destiny, a general idea of what your purpose is on this beautiful planet. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Art by @pop_KOME on Twitter (or X lol).

Pile 1:

Cards: Knight of Swords rx, Queen of Wands, The Chariot, Six of Wands, King of Cups, Eight of Cups, Five of Wands, Justice

Back of the Deck: Nine of Swords

Pile 1, your destiny is to be a leader. I feel a strong spiritual presence for this pile, I feel like you are very strongly protected by your spirit team, you may even have some powerful archangels in your spirit team. Also hearing some of yall may be an Aquarius and have heavy water energy in your birth chart. You are someone who has watched the people in your life be mistreated and conditioned to just suffer through traumatic experiences. But instead of following in the same path of suffering, you take action. Your destiny is to help the people around cope with life and make life feel a little easier. Some of you can do this just by being your true authentic self which encouraging others to do the same. Some of you are destine to be therapists, judges, lawyers, maybe even politicians. If any of you play Honkai Star Rail, you are giving major Natasha vibes. You are destined to run organisations that could literally save lives or make life a lot easier for people. I am also hearing some of yall could create something that would become really popular and almost in a way save people. Like, have you ever had a show or song or form of art that has shaped your life, taught you a lesson, or helped you from a really hard experience. Your destiny is to be that for people or create something that has that effect on people. I am seeing specifically Studio Ghibli so that could have an impact on you, or inspired you to create something. For some of you, your destiny is to be parent, but more specifically to help raise someone the right way(?). Kinda going along with what I was saying before, you may have had a really unhealthy home environment growing up and when it's your turn to be a parent, you will make it your mission to make sure your child doesn't have to go through what you went through, in a healthy way, of course if you don't want to be a parent then this doesn't apply. I just heard, "It's your job to call out the bullcrap." It's your purpose to stand up and say no when others won't or are too scared. You have a lot of influence on people Pile 1, and your purpose is to use it to help the people around you.

Advice Cards:

Align body, mind and spirit. Know that you are whole

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you

Hold a positive outlook. You will see it when you believe it

To effect a change, you must be willing

Get clear about what you want

It is time to unclutter your body, mind, and spirit

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2

Cards: The Emperor rx, Eight of Wands, The Hanged Man rx, King of Swords, Queen of Wands, Four of Wands rx, Page of Cups, The Sun

Back of the Deck: The Devil

Your destiny is to be a shining light in the darkness. The small ounce of hope when everything seems to be lost. Now that is a big role Pile 2. I heard just now, "Your duty is to spread warmth." and "All you gotta do is slay all day." LMAO. You may currently or in the past have felt like everything is hopeless and you may have repeated very negative affirmations. I feel like it's a part of your purpose to learn about how powerful words are and use it to your advantage. When you finally start to use your words in a way that shows hope and positivity, is when you will fully align with your higher self and see all the beautiful things that life truly has to offer. This pile reminds me of another reading I did, it was Pile 4 of my what makes you so attractive reading so if you picked that pile, this pile is definitely for you. If you are interested and haven't read that reading then I would highly recommend it. I feel like your destiny to spread kindness. I am seeing a scenario where you are working somewhere and someone was having a bad day, but after talking with you for a short while, they are in a really good mood and feel amazing. I feel like your use of words and how you express yourself freely is your purpose. I feel like this pile is the most likely to be famous, I am seeing specifically a streamer. I feel like you are just someone that people could listen to talk for hours and it just feels so calming and relaxing. I am kinda picking up on when Among Us was really popular and there was a handful of streamers that were just majorly comforting for people, especially since that was when COVID was really bad. If you did follow thoses streamers, you may know Sykkuno, and I am saying this because I feel like you have a very similar life purpose as Sykkuno or you are just very similar to him. I heard you are like a safe place for people. I feel like your purpose is to make a domino effect for love and kindness. Like when you smile at someone, they smile, and then they make someone else smile and it just spreads. Some of yall may be into yoga or maybe even wanna be yoga instructors. You could also be a masseuse. Your destiny is to be a comforting presence and to show people another way to look a life. (I feel like this pile is very different from Pile 1, however there are some messages from Pile 1 that I strongly feel that may apply to you so if you did feel called to Pile 1 as well, please do read it)

Advice Cards:

Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you

Remove all resistances and move into a state of flow

It is time to challenge old beliefs

You can manifest your heart's desire

To effect a change, you must be willing

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3

Cards: Two of Pentacles rx, Knight of Pentacles, Strength rx, The Lovers, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Temperance, Three of Cups

Back of the Deck: Nine of Wands

There is some crazy beautiful messages for this pile. Your destiny is to see your dreams become a reality. I am getting that you are someone who has worked very hard for everything you have, I am hearing started from the bottom now we're here lol. Pile 3, all the hard work and love you have put into you goals and dreams are destined to shine brightly. You will be able eat the fruits of your labor. Honestly Pile 3, I just see good things coming towards you and it is so wholesome. I feel like there has been a lot of times where you've just wanted to give up and take the easy route of life, giving into words that say you will never achieve anything you strive to. But it is literally your destiny to succeed. Spirit is saying that all the times that have been rough and cruel have been so that when you finally get to relax and see your hard work flourish, it will feel even more rewarding. I feel like things you never thought would be possible for you will come true. Finding true love, a soul family that you can always rely on. I heard multiple people will fall in love you. Pile 3, its your destiny to go on a journey of self love, this journey may be a spiritual awakening for you, by connecting with spiritual, it can help you realize your true potential. I feel like all this love and success will take a while for you though, especially if you tend to put yourself down and don't acknowledge the work you need to do. I feel like some of you are really passionate about your dreams but fail to really push yourself and challenge yourself because of your insecurities. Don't try to be humble Pile 3, you are amazing and the world wants to see you shine! If you are procrastinating about the things you want to bring into your life and putting yourself down when you make mistakes, these blessings will delay and if it gets really bad, may never come. Mistakes are extremely human and we are meant to make mistakes to learn from them and improve even more. Believe in the power of your mind and creativity and the universe, and that's when blessings will manifest. Spirit wants you to enjoy life to the fullest and enjoy the things life has to offer.

Advice Cards:

Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself

Your spirit wings are unfolding. It is time to take flight!

Practice the pause

Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off

You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations!

Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy!

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4

Cards: Seven of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, King of Swords, Four of Swords rx, Four of Wands, Seven of Cups, Six of Wands, Page of Cups

Back of the Deck: Ace of Swords

You have some fun energy Pile 4. It is your destiny to enjoy the ride of life. To let life take the wheel and chill in the fast lane. This pile got so much swords cards, so yall could be an air sign, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, or have a very air heavy birth chart. With the swords cards I am getting that it's your destiny to be free. You may currently feel tied down by people and burdens that just feel so heavy and tiring. But it is your destiny to escape from the shackles of these things and have fun. You are supposed to enjoy the things you have missed out on for so long. I feel like you have felt held back by societies expectations of you and changed yourself to fit in. But the universe wants you to express yourself and show us who you really are. It will feel amazing when you do. People are always going to have problems with you being yourself because your confidence makes them feel intimidated in their own lack of self expression. They are all just jealous of you, so don't let them hold you back from enjoying the things you are passionate about and from feeling the wind on your skin. For some of you, it's your destiny to be a cool parent or like aunt or uncle. I feel like you will have a strong influence on the people close to you, you will be like a role model for the younger people around you. It's because you show them how beautiful freedom and just expressing yourself without worrying about what others think of can be. I also feel like you will meet someone that is your divine counterpart. Someone that understands you better than anyone else will. This could be romantic but it doesn't have to be. This connection will be something everyone will be envious of. This person is someone you know you will grow old with. Your destiny is to enjoy with a smile on your face.

Advice Cards:

Expect good things to come to you

It's time to try something new!

It is important to ask for help

To effect a change, you must be willing

It is time to challenge old beliefs

Act on what you know

You are divinely protected. Remind yourself how safe you are

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

[thosewildcharms]

i'll be thinking about 1x04 for the rest of my life probably, but currently i'm thinking about how genius it was that instead of the episode being about convincing rick to fight the CRM, as I originally thought it would be, it ended up being a battle to bring rick himself back to life. it's both rick and michonne fighting to revive a dead man who is doing anything he can to stay dead.

the show had already established that rick metaphorically killed himself and made okafor's mission his own instead of committing suicide and that from the moment she arrived he went into panic mode and was doing everything he could do put himself between her and the many threats aimed at her. like, we knew all of that going in.

and then this episode blows that wide open in the first, what, ten minutes? the CRM thinks they're dead. they can leave. and still, rick clings to okafor's mission. and in the hands of lesser writers, in the hands of any other production team who did not understand these characters as profoundly as danai and andy understand them, that's where it would have ended. rick would have genuinely been fully brainwashed and have been coming from a place of misplaced egotism, and they'd be having a very different fight. it would be rick insisting he had to fight the crm alone and michonne arguing that they can fight them together with nothing deeper than that going on.

but of course that's not it, because that's not rick grimes, and this is danai gurira's pen. he's not brainwashed, he's broken. he's so deeply and profoundly traumatized that clinging to this mission as a way of maintaining his own metaphorical death has become the last and strongest wall of his self-defense mechanism. and he spends the whole episode desperately trying to keep that wall up, and failing.

when he sees michonne's scar, he immediately looks for the PRB. because the physical proof of how much danger she will always be in reminds him of how much he can no longer bear to witness it. when michonne tells him about RJ, he asks her to give him the PRB and when he learns that RJ calls himself Little Brave Man, he doubles down on okafor's plan. because he can never lose another child (the way he lost carl twice) if he never knows or meets him in the first place. when michonne blows up about how scared and guilty she feels about not being with their kids he goes completely cold and blank and tells her to go back home. because if they're all out of sight and together they'll always be alive in his mind. because he's already dead, but they don't have to be. he becomes truly recognizable to michonne, to remain unmoved in the face of her pain like that.

and yet. he lasts about ten seconds before sprinting after when she leaves the room. he fusses over her when she can't stop coughing and refuses to leave her side when she's in danger. several times michonne checks in, to see if her rick is still there ("do you still love me?" "I just needed to hear you say it") and confirms that yes, he is. he's emphatic that he has never stopped loving her and never will, that she never has to thank him ever, for saving her life or for anything else. over and over, his love for her wins out even though he's trying so hard to keep that wall up. to remain dead so she will leave and keep living. he's trying to convince both her and himself that he's already gone, but always breaks at the last minute because the immediacy of seeing her right in front of him is more powerful than his own fear. tries to shut himself down, can't resist her, rinse and repeat.

and god, michonne. i've been yammering about the intensity of rick's love for michonne for weeks now, but michonne has done nothing but prove that she's right there with him, if not more. to reveal that rick is the only person who has ever made her feel safe, only to have him continually reject her and be a stone wall against her anger and pain and fear and confusion was so fucking heartbreaking to watch, and still she spends the whole episode banging and scratching and tearing at that wall around him, begging to understand why he's lying to her, why he's being so antithetical to the man she loves. and once she figures out that there's something else going on, that the rick she loves is undoubtedly still in there, she knows exactly what to do to save him. she forces him to say how much he loves her, how much he can't bear to actually let her leave him, so both of them can hear it and then reminds him of how he loves her. this woman spent a decade alone, afraid, raising their kids and facing horrible trauma herself, almost dies trying to find her husband only to meet a stranger once she does, and still does not give up on him. fucking incredible.

i said in a previous post that the only thing that could keep rick grimes from doing anything to get back to his family is a threat to their lives. and it's still true - his grief and trauma is so profound that even the nebulous threat of losing them is so horrifically terrifying to him that he's refusing to go home to them, keeping himself dead to protect himself from their possible deaths. but ultimately, michonne's love for him is even stronger than that. it took almost a decade for the CRM to break him, and michonne brings him back in a day. because the love they have for each other is more powerful than anything. as she says, it can't be denied.

it's honestly the most romantic hour of television i've ever watched. there's so much more that i can say that i haven't even touched on here, and i'm sure i'll be thinking about it for a very long time.

[nav-i-nav]

Actually, while we are at it, can we talk about how awful a lot of the fanbase treats Basil? My man can’t catch a break because almost everyone misinterprets him one way or another.

Where do I even start? Literally everything he does is taken the wrong way. There’s the people who characterize him as an obsessive yandere who only cares about Sunny and did everything in his power to isolate him. On the other hand, we have people who just remove one of the basic core aspects of him as a whole and make him an empty husk with no real personality.

Headacanon him however you want, but also try to understand him? I don’t know how people can say he only cares about Sunny when it’s clear he deeply appreciates his friends. He has a stronger bond with Sunny, but that doesn’t mean he’s a possessive and obsessed person who is toxic.

He definitely fucked up along the way, but his actions were never intended to hurt Sunny intentionally. He was in a panic and all he wanted was to keep his best friend safe. People constantly treat him as he’s a disgusting person for simple fact he shows mental illness signs, which is incredibly disheartening because there IS people in real life who act this way and can’t help it! What a relief it is to know people will treat me or my friends like this if we dare show an ounce of distress or panic!

Being mentally ill does not justify your actions, but this also doesn’t mean you are allowed to treat people who suffer from them like scum. People like Basil deserve to get help, to have people who support them so they can start healing. Basil clearly didn’t have that support, the only person that was there for him being his bedridden grandmother who he eventually lost.

And on the other hand, we have people who just choose to get rid of Basil’s personality altogether and characterise him as this character who is all suffering and trauma based off things that are NOT canon. It’s true that Basil’s life doesn’t exactly fit a “normal” childhood (having to live with his grandmother for unknown reasons) but that doesn’t immediately mean he is beyond traumatized? Basil is a little shy, sure, but a lot of people are. Basil used to be a smart and lively kid who loved his friends dearly. It wasn’t until AFTER the incident that he spiralled to the point he is where we see him in game.

People either disregard his trauma and paint him as a villain (let’s make one thing clear, there are NO villains in OMORI), or try to give him even more trauma for no apparent reason. All we know is that his parents aren’t really present in his life, and while that may bring some issues, from what we can see in cutscenes and the photo album, Basil lived a comfortable life surrounded by a loving family member and friends who cared about him.

You are free to explore Basil’s character however you like, but there’s a point where it no longer feels like Basil.

There is nothing wrong with showing his gentle side, just as how there’s nothing wrong to explore his unhealthy behaviour. But focusing on only one of the aspects of his entire self just turns him into a one-dimensional character with no redeemable qualities.

In my opinion, Basil is one of the best examples of a person struggling with mentally illness in media, yet people choose to ignore the complexity of his character to have either a selfish and dangerous yandere or a cute and shy femboy who’s only there to look pretty.

Write him like the mess he is. He is unstable. He is resentful, he is paranoid. That’s what makes Basil’s character so loved. That’s what makes him feel so relatable and human. Ignoring one side of his self takes away all of that. OMORI is a game about acceptance and forgiving. Why shouldn’t we apply those terms to their characters? It’s rather hypocritical for the fanbase to treat Sunny as a poor boy who only did what he did due to stress and trauma and then mark Basil as a psychopath with no redeemable features as if he wasn’t also a scared child who witnessed his very best friend push his sister down the stairs.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

About Miguel taking the place of Gabriella's father -

BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE MILD MIGUEL -

I know we say ooooohhhh Miguel is a psychopath, he's evil for taking her dads place. that's so creepy

and yeah, it is creepy. horror movie shit

But Question:

If you saw a child, a child belonging to another you, going through a deep pain, alone. Wouldn't you step in?

If you knew that a child was about to experience a traumatic event - and you were the only person in the universe with the ability to help.

Would you? Like you, personally. Or would you turn the other way and let fate take it's course?

Would you even have the strength to do that?

When Gwen lost her father in front of Jess, Jess felt like someone had to step in. WE felt like someone had to step in.

When Gabriella lost her father in front of Miguel - wouldn't he feel it too? Wouldn't you?

He did. He stepped in. And he tried to change it. And he killed her.

When Miguel and Jess are both faced with a young girl, on the verse of losing her father in an abrupt and traumatic way, they probably both thought the same -

'Someone has to do something. I have to do something.'

So with that in mind - can we imagine that Miguel felt that same way when looking at Gabriella? A girl who just lost her father abruptly? In a violent, permanent way?

Looking at her father and knowing that...eventually - Gabby is going to know something is wrong. Her father isn't coming home. And very soon - she's going to start getting scared.

Knowing that from this day forward her life will chance in a very big and very painful way.

Or it couldn't.

Or, he could step in. Or, he could head 'home'. He can tuck Gabby in like nothing happened. She could go on like she lived everyday - normal, happy, safe, and with a dad that loves her. Nothing has to change. No funeral. No death anniversaries. No empty space. All he has to do is step in. Or, he can look the other way and let fate take it's course. And let Gabriella end up wherever the universe decides.

What would you do? Can you even decide that?

Look, Do I think what Miguel did was right - taking her father's place? I don't know. Does it matter? Either way - Gabriella suffered.

But do I think Miguel is a psychopath? Do I think he was obsessed, and scheming? No. I don't at all. I think he, like Jess, saw a kid in need. I think he's normal. He's Just Miguel. I think he was monitoring the universe for other Miguels, the same way they monitor all universes for anomalies or recruits. And when Lyla told him about the death - about Gabby - he was faced with a very hard decision -

I don't believe Miguel - at his baseline - is an intentionally malicious person. In any capacity.

I think he's a dude, like Jess - who saw a little girl in need. And now he's in way too deep, and people are dying, and he doesn't know how to stop it no matter how hard he tries and everything he does seems to make it even worse

And when he's trying - when he pulling out all the stops, finding all the best, watching universes day & night - nothing helps. Anomalies keep happening.

Even after all that, after making a whole society - he can't stop it. People are still dying.

And the moment he realizes this - the moment Miles breaks free and escapes. He realized once again - the universe is in control. He was never going to fix it. He never could.

All the efforts he put into The Society can't stop Spot - and they can't stop Miles.

And now, because Miguel isn't good enough to catch him, people are going to die, on his watch AGAIN.

Or..at least that's how Miguel sees it.

Miguel didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up to be a boss holding all of existence together with duct tape and silly string.

He signed up to be a dad. He just wanted to help a little girl.

And now people are dying, Gabriellas dead, People's universes are on the edge of collapse, and now Miles is coming into play, and he's gonna lose HIS dad and Hobie's finally gone AWOL knowing it was gonna come eventually -

And Yes, he snapped. (lol not in the cvnty way)

Between those moments he went from this -

To this. The emotional deterioration is sudden. Everyone around him is stunned he's capable of this.

Does Miguel even know he's capable of this?

I don't know.

I just know this is us seeing a Miguel with reasoning - and a Miguel without it. A Miguel who is being conscious about what he's doing and the words he's picking, to a Miguel running on pure rage and fury and desperation alone.

There's no planning here. There's no stopping to think. He can't and he won't. He wants everyone in the field now.

This is Miguel not being normal. And he got to this point -

All because he wanted to help a little girl. The same way we wanted to help Gwen.

I don't think Miguel's story is about an unhinged man using trauma as an excuse to rule with an iron fist.

I don't think that's what this is. Miguel's story is the same as Jess story is the same as Peter's story.

He wanted to help this kid who needed him. And it backfired.

I think Miguel's story is a reminder that sometimes our help can hurt.

And I think his story is a reminder that Yes, even normal people can reach Miguel's level of rage.

Even normal people can be pushed to the point total powerlessness, of feeling like everything you do makes everything worse. To total desperation - just to make anything better some way, some how. To just get any sense of control back when you're on a ride you didn't ask for and can't get off of.

No - I don't think anybody would go mauling children, but I do think there is a point where it does get to much. When literally nothing in the universe is going how you want it to, and you're angry. At it, and everyone in it, anyone that goes along with it-

Anybody can snap.

At this point..I'm not trying to justify what he did - I never was.

I guess I'm just saying I admire Miguel and his character depth for making a very difficult choice. And I hope Gabriella enjoyed the time she had left with Miguel.

Not because he deserved it.

Because she didn't deserve anything that happened to her. She deserved a loving and happy dad. And I hope that's what he gave her. I hope she didn't have to know about all this terrible shit, or why her dad had to wear that watch ALL THE TIME now.

I hope Miguel did what he came to do in the time he had to do it and everything else sucks.

But back to the question.

You see a scared child about to lose their parents. Do you help them?

If that child was technically your child, if they looked like you and laughed like you, - if you knew no one else in the universe could make this better BUT YOU - would you help them? Or no? No judgement, I'm just curious. Because honestly...I don't know what I'd do. At the very least, I don't think Miguel malicious. I don't think he was scheming. In fact, maybe he didn't even think twice.

Who knows.

But looking back, I think everything - everything we see happen in ATSV - was solidified the moment he stepped into Gabriella's world. I don't think there was ever really a point where Miguel would be allowed to say 'I'm in over my head and I need out.'

He was never going to fix it. He never could. We know it. Maybe he knows it too.

But that doesn't mean he can stop trying.

Miguel was never gonna fix it. He was always bound to snap.

I guess what I'm saying is I feel bad for Miguel. Shoot me. Call it a brick and a hard place. But also don't maul kids.

I think he's just Miguel. And he's in way too deep, because he wanted to help. Some Mild Miguel. But anyway -

If you were Miguel: Would you have helped Gabriella?

BONUS QUESTION: If you knew you were going to be leaving behind an orphan child- and you knew your other self would love your child like their own and take your place without the kid enduring the pain - would you want them to step in, or no? Would you rather your kid know you're dead, and then let the system and proceedures play out as fate makes it?