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#character study-ish?
ievaxol · 5 months
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no one can unring this bell
on good days, the creaking hardly bothers him.
'tis simply part of the daily routine to draw from the well of his aether and breathe life into his limbs again upon waking, to close his eyes through the initial panic of being pinned to the bed by dead weight and then the secondary, slower burning one of that dead weight being attached to him.
it took a couple of years, but he got the hang of it eventually. for all the theatrics of his youth, g'raha has discovered a pragmatic streak that runs deep within him.
he'll trade an arm for a settlement, half a leg for a child with eyes the color of lakeland -- he'll barter, give and take and move the pieces he has with lips pressed together and eyes cast to a future that may well lay hundreds of years ahead.
his own body is merely another resource at his disposal. he sits down with stacks upon stacks of books on anatomy to find a way to have the aether penetrate all the way out to this fingertips, not for himself but because the dexterity is needed in order to fight.
lyna smothers him in salves and ointments and he lets her, if only so she can feel needed. there is no need to tell of an itch that goes deeper than skin, not when she frowns in determination and sets his heart to bursting with affection.
on bad days, it does bother him.
those days he lets the sleeves drop a little lower and he stays in the tower if he can, both relieved and sickened at the familiar hum of aether that cocoons him.
relief at knowing he'll be able to move the way he wants. that he'll be able to fool himself into thinking there is nothing wrong with him so long as he doesn't look upon himself and see the tattered remains of his dress branded into the mockery of flesh provided by the tower.
nausea at the calculations that perpetually run in the back of his mind, reminding him of the fact that his body is no longer his. how many ilms of skin does it cost to save a life? what limbs would he trade for the crystalline mean? does he have the right to grieve himself?
it would probably do him well to remember that the tower isn't sentient as such, yet he can never shake the feeling that it hungers for more. some days it feels as though he has placed himself in the maw of a starving beast that is simply waiting for him to grow a little more before its jaws snap shut.
and time is notoriously not on his side.
on the worst days, the creaking is all he hears.
when he's called out on extended business, or another summoning attempt falls flat, or someone dies, or, well --
it's so loud those days. the scrape of rock against rock, slow and relentless. it is inescapable, too, as his chest heaves with every breath he takes and the crystal moves with it, groaning and cracking like a live thing.
the warmth is siphoned first out of his skin and then out of the very air, leaving his teeth chattering and lyna's face engraved with a silent worry that he's scared will grow permanent, and he wants to weep at how the one supposed to protect her ends up hurting her the most.
every swallow is a struggle, every step a fight. the seams of his transformation cracks and bleeds pain until he's half delirious with it, overcome by the need to claw his way out, out, out of his own body and the prison it makes.
it's basic survival instinct after all, to run away from what's killing you. and here he is. walking toward it, sprinting some days, as if he truly can't wait.
he has a thousand things to do and a hundred places to be, and yet all he is capable of is humming under his breath to try and drown out the never ending sound of his own corpse being puppeteered.
a small prize to pay on the grand scale of things but gods.
gods does he long for silence.
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myreygn · 1 month
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do you ever think about how sanemi's animosity towards tanjiro makes so much sense from a narrative perspective because tanjiro is literally everything sanemi isn't?
both of them lose their fathers at a very young age, only that sanemi's father was a horrible abusive jerk who inflicted severe trauma upon his entire family while tanjiro's father was the coolest guy around whose lessons continue to motivate tanjiro and impact his life in a positive way.
both of them have to deal with a beloved family member turning into a demon, only that sanemi ends up killing his mother and has to come to terms with the fact that although she became a monster he still killed his mother while tanjiro manages to guide his sister through her monstrosity and finds ways to help her keep her humanity in tact.
both of them lose their families with only one younger sibling remaining, only that sanemi and genya get separated and estranged while tanjiro and nezuko never lose their close relationship.
[spoilers below the cut]
both of them have to deal with their younger sibling being a demon (one way or the other), only that sanemi's hatred towards demons as a whole makes it impossible for him to look at genya the same way while tanjiro loves his sister all the same, no matter if she's demon or human.
both of them try to protect their younger siblings from danger, only that sanemi can't think of anything but straight up abuse to try and push genya away which remains unsuccessful while tanjiro and nezuko work together well during fights and tanjiro still manages to keep her safe.
both of them fight with the goal to keep their siblings alive, only that genya dies and leaves sanemi with a ton of guilt and regret while tanjiro and nezuko get their happy ending.
both of them are thrown into the conflict between demons and humans out of nowhere, only that sanemi spends a considerable amount of time on his own, killing demons without any assistance while tanjiro gets sent off with a hashira recommendation letter to urokodaki's where he receives a proper training and finds a new home and family.
both of them find companions along the way and form meaningful relationships with them, only that masachika dies young with sanemi being unable to protect him while tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke stay together through everything and manage to survive even the final battle.
and a lot of this is meta knowledge, a lot of this is information that sanemi doesn't have about tanjiro. but he does have some of it and i think it's enough knowledge for me to put up this theory: sanemi envies tanjiro. because both of them went through unspeakable trauma and grief, both of them lost people close to them, both of them had to deal with similar situations.
and yet tanjiro is kind. he's friendly and good, people trust him, people love to befriend him and he inspires them wherever he goes while sanemi is bitter and nasty and simply incapable of forming and maintaining these connections in the way tanjiro is because who'd want to be friends with a cruel jerk right? and tanjiro loves to take lonely people under his wing, but not even he is willing to forgive sanemi for most of the story and i can only imagine how that must sting because no one wants to be lonely and yet sanemi can't even blame him. he wouldn't forgive himself either.
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commiecricket · 1 year
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the concept of the batfamily having a secret language/code is the single best idea i have EVER seen. because you know they absolutely would. i particularly mean communicating in chirps, whistles, tweets, tongue clicks, etc.
dick would start it during his robin days. as a kid, it’s the coolest thing he can imagine. eventually he stops responding to bruce’s usual messages over comms until he uses the corresponding whistle. over time, there is a sound for almost every situation. even their own names.
then he teaches it to jason to be a little shit. he’ll never admit it’s also so he knows that if it ever takes too long to reach the comms, dick knows he can let out a sharp whistle and his brother will be there. (and because it makes him feel closer to his little bird).
jason isn’t there to teach him, but tim learns as well. dick will chitter soft reassurances after an argument with bruce. a whistle out in the field, a chirp before they head to bed. tim embraces it fully— its feels more like family than anything else he’s known. it becomes second nature.
barbara gets to learn a bit, too. she isn’t as fluent in the language but can decipher messages as well as any of the robins. when she finds her hands full as oracle, she knows a sharp whistle into the comms will let the bats know what’s happening.
stephanie embraces the language similarly to tim. she uses it more conversationally than in the field. it shows up more when she’s emotional. as she gets worked up about things, her words will start to melt into whistles and trills. her family can tell what mood she’s in by how her chittering sounds.
cass is similar. she uses it sparingly, but more often than speaking english. she finds it easier. when words are difficult, she can usually muster up a grunt or warble in response to someone. her heart is filled with warmth when, instead of prompting for further words or signing, her family will simply whistle back.
damian is a bit more difficult to convince. by the time he arrives, the noises are just another form of communication. he refuses to use it for quite some time. he convinces himself it’s childish and strange— words work just fine. but after bruce gets lost in the time stream, he allows it between himself and dick. eventually he starts to use it with the rest of the family. he uses it sparingly, definitely not as much as everyone else. but he quietly adores it. he loves the simplicity and security of a code that nobody else could decipher. and if it makes him feel closer to his siblings? well, that’s just a plus.
duke is caught off guard at first. his entire situation is bizarre when he first arrives, but he didn’t expect the robins to communicate like. well. actual robins. but hey, he can adapt to anything. so he joins in. members of the family teach him in their own ways. jason and cass will whistle at him in the field, which he learns to be his name. tim clicks a pattern when he arrives to breakfast— a sleepy greeting before he’s fully awake. steph whistles and purrs when they’re spending time together. the list goes on.
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geek-antic · 10 months
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Soundwave is a powerhouse and an enigma and we don't talk about it enough so i'mma just gonna make a compilation of "how the hell did he do that" and "what the hell is he" moments that i've managed to find from across several transformers continuities
first off is from the first IDW comic continuity
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this is never explained, so i can only assume its because soundwave is technically an outlier but i haven't seen a panel that shows other outliers having "off the scale" readings, whatever that means.
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and then in the last moments of this continuity he sacrifices himself to save the universe/earth by using his outlier ability along with the enigma of combination to essentially connect the dead to the living in the entire galaxy for a hot minute . idk how the hell he did that or how he knew to do that, my money is on bad writing but i digress.
next up Transformers Prime
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tfp fans: elaborate on that. tfp writers: no. transformers prime soundwave is definitely a powerhouse and an enigma for several reasons but number one is this god damn scene with ratchet exclaiming soundwave isn't your standard cybertronian and then to my frustration the show refuses to explain why.
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also he can open portals. the only explanation for that is in the novels where he actually was part of the invention of spacebridge technology. i guess he could've incorporated that into himself, which frankly is kinda unheard of in of itself. but still I feel inclined to tell him that skywarp called and they want their powers back.
Next, we have the game Transformers: fall of cybertron. where he scavenges together all of megatrons parts and puts him back together which, yeah sure why not? it's essentially like putting a corpse back together but then he just REVIVES HIM??
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with his mind completely intact despite having been decimated by Metroplex and being dead for several hours. excuse me sir but that shouldn't be possible. I guess I could just chop it up to the writers being a bit loosey goosey with their own rules for the world but it's still quite a feat. but thinking back to G1 where he did the same thing with skyfire I guess they assumed it's just something he can do?
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although skyfire's revival was a bit more reasonable considering he was still in one piece and frozen solid which they explained to be the reason as to why he was kept intact. but I'm assuming that's why the writers were like "well let's just have him do the same thing for megatron" and everyone was like yeah okay why not. also like a lot of things in G1 this inbuilt high voltage canon/defibrillator is never brought up again which is hilarious and par for the course for G1.
there are several more moments throughout all the tf continuities where soundwave just does something inexplicable but these are a some of the moments that stuck out to me the most. I welcome others to add onto this post if they wish. because I'm sure I've missed some "how the hell did he do that" moments that would be a shame not to bring up.
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doodlesdreaming · 2 months
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Three men and their Dad.
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sexy-raccoons · 1 year
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So something interesting I’ve noticed is how people treat Lockwood’s character especially how they handle his obvious suicidal tendencies. I mean, Winkman picked up on it within literal minutes of meeting the kid it’s not like he’s hiding it well, but anyways
George: George treats Lockwood’s tendencies as something you have to work around. He doesn’t really like it, but he doesn’t try to hard to stop it farther than telling Lucy she has to be able to tell him no or she’ll “make him worse”. We see this and we know George cares about him a whole deal and we know that they’ve been bets tied for a while now and yet George hardly knows anything personal about Lockwood. George doesn’t extend a helping hand so Lockwood doesn’t attempt to take it
Kipps: We all see how Kipps treats Lockwood’s disregard for life. He believes that there is no saving Lockwood and the best thing they could do is let him kill himself before he drags someone down with him, which we see when he talks to Lucy saying “you don’t know what he’s really like” and something along the lines of “you better leave before he drags you down with him”. Kipps not only doesn’t extend that helping hand but he takes it and runs from Lockwood as fast as he can, and so Lockwood doesn’t even pretend to like him (plus he’s a bit of a jerk but they’re all jerks Lockwood just has a tolerance for some of them)
Lucy: And here’s where it gets interesting. Unlike the others she doesn’t run away or dance around the problem, she looks it dead in the eyes and tells it to stop. She offers Lockwood her hand again and again and each time she does it Lockwood gets a little closer to taking it because each time she does it is a time no one else tried. Everyone had given up on him, decided that he was a lost cause and his fate was sealed, but Lucy just wouldn’t stop and so when she offered her helping hand, Lockwood took it. Yeah he doesn’t quite know what to do with it now that he has it but the fact that he took it is what important. It’s why she was only there for a couple months or so and he was opening that door when George couldn’t even ask about it after a year of living with the man
The reason why I love Lucy and Lockwood together so much is this. It’s because Lucy never gave up on him and it gave Lockwood hope in himself. The two make each other better people and that’s amazing
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tears-of-xion · 2 months
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Meet Hikari Yuu, my TWST MC/Ramshackle Prefect OC! ^^
Drew up a quick drawing of her full school uniform design + an attempt on her part to manipulate Leona into helping her with tears (feat. Grim). I am quite excited to draw more of her!
-
Hikari is owned and designed by myself. :3
Please do not use or re-post my artwork without my permission. Thank you!   (reblogs, however, are welcome and appreciated)
I do not own Twisted Wonderland, nor it’s characters. All rights to their owners.
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ghcstao3 · 1 year
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Soap’s family has never been particularly happy with his decision to join the military, especially not when news arrived that his cousin—the entire reason he had joined in the first place—had died in the service. It isn’t any secret, and never has been; Soap just does his best to navigate around any mentions of his work whenever he’s on leave, and it works well enough for the most part.
Save for the few lectures from his parents, of course, but for the most part. And for as long as he’s around, be it he die like his cousin had or not, Soap has always intended to keep it this way. Through hardship and bullet wounds and the blood that stains his hands darker with every mission, he tries to stay the same John MacTavish his family has always known him to be, and if he can manage that, then they shouldn’t ever say anything, and he shouldn’t ever have to defend himself.
It works fine until everything to do with Price’s Task Force and what follows, with Graves, Shepherd, Hassan.
Las Almas. Chicago.
He’s endured nightmare-worthy things before all of it, of course, but something about a betrayal and nearly being tossed from a skyscraper really seems to take quite a mental toll.
His family immediately notices a change, when he goes home. While he’s left just a sitting duck as Price and Laswell do their damnedest to dig up what they can on Makarov, and find wherever Shepherd has run off to.
And Soap can’t do a thing to hide it, like he’s always tried so hard to do. He can’t do anything to stop his nightmares or terrors. He can’t do anything to help his incessant need to not be alone. All Soap can do is come to terms with his burdens and move on even when it’s clear that his family can’t. That his family is saddened by the Sergeant that has replaced their John.
Through it all, though, he never regrets his choice in career. Not one bit. Because if sacrificing parts of his past self means keeping the world just a bit safer, a bit less evil, then he’s done good.
He’s done good.
part 2
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quinn-fucks-shit-up · 11 months
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thinking about how the ones who survived that we praise for having common sense were the ones with Zero curiosity
like, Gillespie didn't give a fuck what was in that coffin, Dekker didn't care what was going on with that pig, Hammond was unconcerned about a fire ghost, Lennox didn't want to know what was in the middle of that labyrinth, and Górka just decided she'd rather go to sleep than get answers
the fears spit out people who are more concerned with themselves than finding out what is going on, among whom Jon does not even remotely number
bro is the definition of a character doomed by his own nature, there was no way in which he could have turned his back on the eye because beyond any other aspect of himself there is, beyond even his love of Martin, he unfailingly, unequivocally Needs To Know
so he was always going to choose to be the pupil, in every scenario, in every universe, that is, of course, why the web chose him
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plantwithoutplot · 1 year
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PORTGAS D. ACE  ||  X V I I . T H E  S T A R
UPRIGHT: New Hopes, faith, purpose, creativity, healing. 
REVERSED: Loss, privation, abandonment, hopelessness, despair.
Headcanon under the cut
To me, Ace is like the stars.
Just like the freckles on his face, he is the embodiment of a whole galaxy and not just one astral body.
At day and night alike, even when you can't see them, they're here. They're a past you look at in present times. A constant you need in life ― a reminder that the universe is vast and that you belong somewhere. That you're part of a constellation, engraved in the sky, and forever to be remembered.
They twinkle brightly and guide your way through the darkest of nights ― they've done so since immemorial times, if you trust the sailors' tales. So if you know to rely on them, they will always push you in the right direction.
No star is alone in the sky.
It's these connections between them that matters. Family and friends are what matters to Ace, more than his own person. However, even if he wouldn't care about being just one star alone in the dark, he already experienced that ― and refuses to abandon it all. 
Yet, a question always lingers at the back of his mind... Who would care, who would notice, if one mere star were to disappear?
No matter how much it hurts to say it: Ace ended up as a shooting star.
He shone bright. Not for long enough, but he burnt his way through and lit the way ― lit the sky ― and gave so many people the opportunity to make a wish.
Although their meeting was short, both O'Tama and Yamato were willed back into motion thanks to him. He showed up when they had given up ― on a better future, on their hope, on their dreams.
Ace showed up once and that sole fact gave them the ability to wish again.
He used to be Sabo and Luffy's star, too. They looked up to him like sailors lost at sea and found someone to not only call their home, but lead them back to it.
When he died, both his brothers experienced an incommensurable loss. Him vanishing from their life made them wish to become strong enough so that it would never happen again.
To always strive for the best.
To follow the North Star that he was.
To never stray away from their promise to be free.
Upon his death, they wished.
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fylterrred · 3 months
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Aura by lady gaga is so astarion coded it's insane, I mean obviously it's not exact exact but still!
Do you wanna see me naked, lover?
Do you wanna peek underneath the cover?
Do you wanna see the girl who lives behind the aura?
Behind the aura
Christ it's so shslaijeoqdkmqbskqieheb I have thoughts, thoughts! but I'm not like super deep into bg3 lore yet and I'm just picking up bits and pieces from posts I've seen but like, assuming that what I'm thinking is right about astarion's character, the lyrics connect in a way!!!!
also for bloodweave enjoyers, the next line is literally
Do you wanna touch me, cosmic lover?
yeah.
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cult-of-the-eye · 5 months
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So I had this idea that when Martin gets mad at someone, he represses it and ends up being even nicer to them. It ended up being slightly longer than I thought it would be lol.
Content warnings - slight mention of martin's mum being ill, mental health issues and the effects of trauma are explored, a lot of self-hatred and general angst but a hopeful ending, hurt/comfort's angsty cousin
Martin K Blackwood has never heralded himself to be the most sane of people. He has never been under any illusion as to the effect of his childhood (and...other...situations) on his psyche. He has been to therapy, albeit once, in a short-lived, hugely embarrassing attempt during secondary school, where he was gently informed that his particular set of problems required more qualified areas of intervention. In short, as many times that people have helpfully informed him of his "fucked up"-ness, he has always been the one who was most aware of it. As a method of self-soothing, he tells himself that all poets are tortured. It's just for him, the poetry came before the torture. These thoughts, musings, poetic substance or whatever else, came to him whilst making tea for his boss, Jonathan Sims, one cloud-soaked afternoon.
It wasn't as if he meant it. Making someone tea after they had borderline reduced them to tears wasn't a conscious decision. His feet just moved, as of their own accord, out of Jon's office, one before the other, his trainers making soft thuds against the carpeted floor. Towards the kitchen. And if he's in the kitchen, he might as well make tea. And if he's making tea, he might as well make some for Jon. He put extra care into this mug - if he poured the water with steady hands then maybe he wouldn't start to cry. It would be silly to cry, he decided. This was a realisation that came as he stood still next the counter, watching the tea steep. It wasn't anyone's fault but his own that he cited the case wrong, he should've known. He should've been better at pretending to have a Masters degree in Parapsychology. Serves him right for lying. How could anyone have blamed Jon for shouting? It must seem like he's being inadequate on purpose. Some cruel joke being played on only him. So of course, he shouted. And of course, Martin cried. He expected heaving sobs, thundering through his whole body, as large and foreboding as the sky outside. Instead, they were sharp, singular and furious. How could he have known that he'd get a phone call from the hospital in the middle of the night saying that things had gotten worse? How could he have known that the citing method had changed? How could he have known that he would be saddled with the most inconsiderate, frustrating, bastard of a-
"Martin?"
Luck, it seemed could be added to the list of things Martin had never heralded himself to have. He hoped to whatever was up there, that he'd be wrong, for once. But he knew better than to hope, so he quickly shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and took a small breath.
"Um, hi Jon, I...I was just, uh..."
"Making tea?" He offered.
Maybe inconsiderate was a tad hasty of him. He looked terrible. There was no way around it. His perfectly corporate office wear looked like it had been slept in for multiple days, the collars no longer perfectly ironed and creases running down his sweater vest. There was no tie and his hair fell out of the pristine up-do that he was sure took him hours to get right every morning. His face was haggard but more open than he was used to. It unnerved him slightly, to see the sharpness of his features microwaved into an artificial softness. It wasn't something he deserved. He had a knack for looking gift horses in their mouths. After all, he had contributed to those sleepless nights, his actions had probably driven Jon's hands frustratedly through his hair. And yet he was standing in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.
He cleared his throat. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened his mouth again. He closed his mouth again. Martin could almost see the synapses firing in his brain, tiny little fireworks connecting dot after dot, trying to construct the most appropriate sentence for the situation. It took a while, but he got there.
"Martin. I came here to inform you that there was an error in the system. The citation method that you had used was in fact, the correct one. You may continue using that and I will have no issue."
Each word arrived stilted. It was as if he had written it out for some AI helper to read out loud and then repeated it back to said robot. Martin didn't mind, exactly, he was too busy processing what had actually been said to care about how he had said it.
"Was that an apology?"
Jon's face shifted immeasurably. It took a few seconds of awkward silence for him to realise that he was blushing. Immediately, Martin took note of all the signs, knowing that now that he'd seen it, he would never want to miss it again. The tips of his ears turned pink and his mouth twitched, as if he was desperately keeping down a vomit of facial expressions. The solid rock of anger was deep inside Martin and thankfully stopped him from regretting anything he had said. His veins turned to gravel, as he clasped and unclasped his hands by his side.
"I believe so.", came the answer. It did nothing to liquify the solidity in his veins, so out came another sentence that he would lie awake thinking about at night.
"Can I have a proper one?"
"I don't know what you mean, Martin."
The tea was cold, anyway. He had nothing left to lose.
"I want an apology, Jon. I take all of your criticisms on stride, no matter how much I think about how you could've said it in a nicer way or how you don't do this with Tim or Sasha or how I've been working my ass off, this whole time. I'm sorry the archives are way more disorganised than you thought they'd be and I'm sorry you're struggling but you shouldn't take that out on me."
"I'm not struggling, Martin."
He barked out a laugh. "Of course that's the bit you focus on."
Finally, he seemed to have touched a nerve. Adrenaline pumped through him, making him feel nauseous. Every bone in his body told him to stop talking, shut his mouth and grovel. Fix this. The words had been projecting out of his mouth, wriggling like sickly, pale maggots, but part of him wanted to keep talking until he was empty. Until he had no more words to throw. But it was in Jon's nature to ruin his plans. Just like he had ruined his promotion by being an ass. Just like he had ruined his ability to hate him by being just the right amount of kind.
"I'm sorry, Martin. I really am."
Martin had once been told by a therapist that he was using the word "should" to beat himself up. This was the very same therapist that had declared her lack of qualification in the first session, so he dismissed it. He thought of her as the "shoulds" flooded into his brain. One stood out from the rest, unable to be sharpened into the weapon he wanted. It shouldn't have been enough. He should have pushed for more of an apology, he should've asked for more kindness, but the fact of the matter was that it was enough. It was Jon and he was apologising. He knew he was going to take it, no matter how this conversation had gone. He knew it from the very first time he laid a cup of tea on his desk and had been barely acknowledged.
"Thank you, Jon."
Maybe he should return to therapy. Maybe he was fucked up. Maybe he was no longer the only one who knew that. Jon awkwardly shuffled off, leaving rubble where there once was a jumper-clad man. Martin did the only thing he knew how to do. He clicked on the kettle, to make another cup of tea.
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starrysharks · 7 months
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why'd i make a bunch of reassassination characters buff middle ages men.... i was born to draw cute girls i can't draw fridge shaped men!!!!!!
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canarymemories · 2 months
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hi!! i'm very happy to be posting my piece for @enstarsbb!! i've been working on it for a while and i hope you all love it as much as i do <33 thank u so much to my artists tia (art) and mango (art) for their beautiful pieces 🥺🥺🥺🥺
playlist
read here
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myreygn · 6 months
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Going Nowhere
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spoiler for the end of vinland saga season 1!!
summary: The path to the afterlife is a mysterious one. No one knows where it leads to, everyone likes to think it leads to eternity. No one likes to think that eternity might not be that exciting after all.
an: this is just me self indulgently pushing out something with askeladd because honestly i would've dropped dead if i didn't. this has very slight bjornskeladd and you can read into that whatever you want. also i'll get to the stuff in my inbox i promise!
wordcount: 1355
taglist: @atruewarrior
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Where do I go after I die?
Askeladd had never been one to ask himself that question. It seemed redundant, especially in the heat of battle when ‘after I die’ wasn’t a future one should consider for even a second if one didn’t want it to become reality. And in most other situations, if not all, it was simply too dark of a question to ask.
Of course the topic would come up every now and then and the men would start swooning about the halls of Valhalla, but no one ever asked themselves that question seriously. Genuinely. Asking yourself, or anyone for that matter, a genuine question usually led to genuine answers and those could be horrifying. Because if you genuinely asked Where do I go after I die?, a question very closely related to that would be Will I go to Valhalla? and no one wanted an actual serious answer to that. Yes, of course you’ll go to Valhalla if you die in battle, but you could die at any moment in any dishonorable way and you’ll never even know what hit you until they shut the door in your face. Great talk, have another drink. No way.
That answer, while terrifying to most people he had sailed with over the years, meant nothing to Askeladd. Never had. Honor was a great buzzword to die from but a foolish one to live by. And without honor, one would never go to Valhalla. Or so they always said. And Askeladd had listened but never agreed, nor had he disagreed. He wasn’t stupid, why would he run his mouth off over a subject he knew nothing about?
Where do I go after I die?
That was the thing, wasn’t it, no one knew. They believed, which was very different and far more dangerous. Believing that dying with honor was the greatest achievement in the world, that was a nice thing to do until you ran into someone who favored dishonorable survival. And Askeladd had always been that man to favor dishonorable survival, to favor survival over anything else, because it really didn’t matter how you did it as long as you stayed alive. And stay alive, escape, or as some might even say, cheat death he had done time and time again, and again, and again.
Until today.
The darkness around him was… it wasn’t even darkness anymore, it was just blackness. Blackness and something else, pictures of things Askeladd couldn’t tell whether they were memories or visions. Any time he took a closer look, he ended up seeing nothing, but then he looked down and could see himself clearly, as if he was a lantern in the dark, yet no light broke through the blackness. Any time he took a breath, his lungs remained empty and yet he wasn’t suffocating. His body was numb, but looking down he saw the wounds he had acquired in his life and they were bleeding, drenching his clothes in blood for a moment before they were gone again in the blink of an eye.
It was a strange mix of too little and too much, of nothing at all and everything at once and he had yet to wrap his head around it, but it sure as shit wasn’t Valhalla. Askeladd didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry and when he opened his mouth to let out something in between, the sound was swallowed by the darkness so quickly he doubted for a moment that it had ever been there.
Where do I go after I die?
He had never been afraid of not going to Valhalla, that much was true. But to say that there were no possible answers to that question that would scare him would be a lie. There was one answer that frightened him more than anything else and he had never dared to say it out loud during his lifetime, but now, here, it didn’t matter anymore and when he uttered it into the abyss, the abyss sucked the words right up and said nothing back.
What if I don’t go anywhere?
He took pride in not getting too attached to people, but if he was being completely honest with himself, he had thought about Bjorn a lot. During his attempt at recovery, after the duel and even when he was bleeding out on the floor while Thorfinn screamed at him. Such an unpleasant brat, all around, not like Bjorn. Bjorn had always been very different from any other northman Askeladd had ever met. Not a genius by any means, not a moron either though. Empathetic, sensible, and way more in control than most people realized. In control of himself and his actions, of everything surrounding him. Sometimes Askeladd had thought that Bjorn even had a certain grasp on him, but it had never gotten to the point where he would’ve been ready to admit that Bjorn had seen through him. Because he just never had. And Askeladd had felt sorry about that many times - if there was one person who deserved to see through him just a little bit, it would have been Bjorn.
A small part of him had always hoped that there would be time for this in another life. Somewhere there wouldn’t be any wars to fight and secrets to keep and Askeladd couldn’t have cared less about what that other life would’ve looked like, but he would’ve followed Bjorn to Valhalla. He would’ve followed Bjorn anywhere, but apparently death didn’t care about that. Because Askeladd was nowhere and Bjorn was somewhere else where they wouldn’t open the gates for his kind. Bjorn had gone to Valhalla. Askeladd had just gone away.
“Son of a bitch went on without me,” he muttered to himself and it sounded like the voice of a stranger.
What if I don’t go anywhere?
What then? What now? He had sacrificed himself for the reign of a king he wouldn’t live to follow and the safety of a country that had never loved him back enough to justify the things he had done to protect it. And it had all been for nothing, or nothingness at least, because apparently he wouldn’t get anything else in return for his efforts. Maybe this was some kind of twisted reward; feeling nothing in exchange for all those years of pointless suffering. Askeladd banned that thought to the deepest depths of his brain before it could take roots. What, was he supposed to be grateful to be left alone in absolute silence? Eternal hellfire would be preferable to this.
So very perfidious. Outside noises had never bothered Askeladd as much as the noise inside his own head and to take away that layer of protection, to leave him in absolute silence with nothing to drown out his own thoughts, that was cruel. Nothing but cruel. Askeladd had always known that the gods were coldhearted and he had never expected them to give him peace. That was not a problem, he didn’t need peace. But that they’d push him out of all their realms, that they’d make him disappear… he almost had to salute that they had caught him off guard like that, but then again, who was he to ever arrogate the ability to outsmart the gods.
What if I don’t go anywhere?
The first step was always the hardest to take, even more so when you had no feeling in your body. But as soon as he had done it, an ever so slight ease overcame him and he took a deep breath of nothing as he took another step, and then the next one, and the next one. If he was afraid to get stuck, maybe he should start moving.
Where do I go after I die?
Askeladd highly doubted that he would ever reach an edge of the abyss, but you never knew. And if he couldn’t go anywhere, maybe wandering would be enough for now. Roaming the afterlife, seeing if there was an actual life for him to find. He had always been nothing if not an explorer.
I don’t know.
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archiveofourwolves · 9 months
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I just think that it was extremely fitting for Crowley and Aziraphale at the end of season two to do what they did. They never had great communication in the first place. They said things and did things that were confusing to one another, and hurt them. Aziraphale was scrambling to try to make Crowley see his side but he chose the wrong words, looked at him the wrong way, went about it too quickly and Crowley couldn't understand that. And Crowley in turn danced around everything he wanted to say, leaving Aziraphale puzzled and not understanding. They didn't understand one another, and the flashbacks as well as the parallel between Nina and Maggie showed that they need to learn how to communicate correctly in order to be with one another. I think at the end of the day it's amazing writing, and I completely understand why Aziraphale did what he did, he's doing it for Crowley. He's doing it to save Earth. I feel as if they'd kissed and went on happily then the story as a whole wouldn't feel complete.
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