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#literally change of scenery for the depressed
soldier-poet-king · 10 months
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Why is everyone in my family allergic to shutting the fuck up. Why does no one know how to just sit and do things quietly. Why is everyone SO LOUD AND ANNOYING ALL THE TIME. Just pick a task and sit and do it QUIETLY AND UNOBTRUSIVELY FOR FIVE MINUTES
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you guys know what’s crazy is that the shuumatsuban is literally an organisation that takes in orphan children and then trains them to become top secret ninjas. hello house of hearth sus amongus impostor
like sayu is literally an orphaned, traumatized child with abandonment issues. i headcanon she’s around 15 so technically she isn’t quite a child, but really, was she ever given a chance to be a child OR grow up? when children experience things beyond their years, it is ironic how as they grow up they seem to perpetually have the mind of a child and yet they have grown up way too fast and have never been a child at all. and so anyways you know what’s even sadder is that she’s literally depressed and yoimiya is the only person who notices and actually seems to care
anyways yeah i love sayu and i have an entire headcanon universe in which she actually receives care to make up for the lost years she spent raising herself after her master abandoned her because she was “ready” and they didnt want her to get attached to them😲
like thats why i love the dynamic between heizou and sayu (THAT IS IF THEY EVER ACTUALLY INTERACTED IN GAME. IM SO MAD ABOUT THIS THEY HAVE SUCH MASSIVE POTENTIAL, LIKE KANO NANA, THE SHRINE MAIDEN WHO CHASES HER, IS LTIWRALLY HEIZOU’S COUSIN. COME ON HOYO). heizou in my mind is her found family (and ofc yoimiya because yoimiya IS canon) because i think she deserves more than one character who would treat her like a sibling or child or just like she’s family. and also he would take her under his wing to help him solve cases and i just think that’s really neat because it would bring in a wonderful sort of dynamic like he’s teaching her and also taking her away from the shuumatsuban and also protecting her because obviously cases can be dangerous and also he’s her friend and literally acts like an older brother and i just think it’s wonderful and it would be such a wonderful change of scenery from how she is literally a depressed, orphaned teenager with no one to actually care about her except for yoimiya (who she thinks is annoying because she prioritizes sleeping and also misunderstands yoimiya’s intentions; yoimiya wants her to come to festivals to make friends, but sayu thinks she wants her to perform tricks, etc etc)
anywyas i just realized i never yapped indepth about why i always have had this headcanon friendship between heizou and sayu but this is why and i STILL want to write a long fanfiction about it but i dont have the capacity to focus on one thing at a time. anyways. ueah
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tangerinesgf · 1 year
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Missed you
Tangerine x GN!reader
Summary: you're having a though day, Tangerine helps you through it.
Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Depression, some fluff, Tangerine is the best bf (think that's about it)
Disclaimer: English is not my first language and its not proofread so sorry for any mistakes.
A/N: You ever have those moments where you can't stop thinking about Tangerine? Well I guess that's how this thing came to exist. Also I needed to vent.
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Before you and Tangerine started dating, you'd told him about your depression. Clinical depression to be more specific.
In the time you and Tangerine spend together you had fallen head over heals for him. His looks were partially the reason for that, obviously, but what really drew you in was everything else about him. The way he acted, talked, moved. They way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on.
The fact that beneath that ruthless contract killer was this soft guy who loved cuddling and head rubs. Although he'd never admit that out loud.
Being with Tangerine was the happiest you had been in a long time.
You felt the dread building up in your stomach when you had to tell him, expecting him to leave afterwards. Most people found a partner with depression too much work and not worth the trouble.
Not Tangerine though.
He'd been on your side the minute you told him, telling you he could never leave you.
"There's nothin' you could say that would make me leave you, darlin'"
A wave of relief had rushed over you, tears starting to well up in your eyes resulting into Tangerine pulling you into his arms.
Ever since that moment you'd been there for every up and down, never once leaving each others side.
This week had been harder for you than others. Not for any specific reason that you could explain unfortunatly. That was the part you hated the most. The 'being sad or angry for no particular reason'.
Your therapist had said that it was normal in your situation, that it wasn't just you being lazy or dramatic.
You hadn't really come out of bed the entire week except for food or to use the bathroom.
Normally Tangerine would have quite literally dragged you out of your bed even if it was to the living room just for a change of scenery. He'd cook your favorite food, while you sat and watched him.
Unfortunately Tangerine was on a job this week, so there's was none of that. He'd told you repeatedly that you could always call him even if he was on a job, but you still felt like you would be disturbing him.
You were watching some show you lost track of hours ago when you heard the front door opening, followed by a pair of footsteps entering the apartment.
You heard him walk around for a while before there was a nock on your door.
"Luv? It's me, are you in there?" Tangerine's soft voice spoke from the other side of the door. Gosh, you had missed him so much.
"Yeah, you can come in" you answered, just loud enough for him to hear.
Tangerine opened the door leaning into the doorframe.
"Hey" he said softly.
You could see his eyes darting around the room taking it in. Not having had the energy to clean this week ut had become quite the mess.
"Hi" you gave him a soft smile.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you in which Tangerine came to understand that it had been on of those weeks and he hadn't been there for you.
He pushed himself from the doorframe and slowly walked over to where you were sitting on your bed.
"You know you could've called me, right?" He almost whispered as he moved a strand of hair out of face and placed it behind you ear. Your eyes never losing contact with one another.
"I know." Was all you said.
Another beat of silence before Tangerine spoke up again.
"You wanna talk 'bout it?"
"Not really."
All you wanted to do right now was just being with him.
"Want me to leave you alone?"
He figured getting you out of bed could wait until tomorrow, after all he didn't really have the energy for it right now either.
"No!" You said almost immediately, the slight raise of your voice taking both of you by surprise.
"I mean.. please stay."
Tangerine's eyes softened and he pulled you into his lap to hold you in that same way he had done almost a year ago now. Your head rested on his shoulder as he stared to draw soothing circles on your lower back.
You drew back from his embrace so you could meet his eyes.
"I missed you"
Tangerine leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead after which he pulled you into his chest again.
"Missed you too, darlin'" he said just above a whisper. "You're gonna be alright."
His hand started to caress through your hair as you drew him impossibly closer to you.
"You're gonna be alright."
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A/N: this is my first time finishing/ posting any sort of reader fanfic and I wrote this in like an hour so any feedback is always appreciated. <3
Taglist: @avocado-writing @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @waiting4ff (just tagged sm people I thought would be interested)
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cutesyscreenname · 1 month
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The Last Great American Dynasty: Chapter 1
This Was The Very First Page
Series summary:
Addiction, deadlines, a nasty divorce. In an effort to shed your skin and find yourself again, you pack up and move to a historic seaside home across the country. It's all a blur, you're hurting and spinning your wheels in a big house all alone. Until Frankie shows up on your doorstep.
Pairing: Frankie Catfish Morales x AFAB Reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 1709
Warnings: allusions to former drug use, mention of divorce, not too much to warn of yet we just getting started bby
Notes: I hope we all have a marvelous time and I don't ruin everything 💀 I've been gone for a long ass time, taking baby steps getting back into things.
Also much thanks to @pr0ximamidnight for helping flesh this out (aka letting me rant at her until it came together) and @mydailyhyperfixations, @joelsgreys, and @mylostloversbookmarks for also listening to me ramble 😂 lub u 🩵💙
Chapter One Playlist 🎶📻⚓🌊⛵🎶
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This was the very first page
Not where the story line ends
My thoughts will echo your name
Until I see you again
It feels pretentious to drive across the country like this when you don't have to. In fact it was a struggle to do so - insisting and arguing with everyone that you wanted, no - needed to. You could feel the eyes rolling behind your back, hear the sarcastic thoughts unspoken.
Who does she think she is, Kerouac?
Truthfully you just wanted the white noise of wind, pavement, and your Spotify playlist of guilty pleasure pop songs, too occupied by operating a motor vehicle to check the deluge of emails and texts that had been pouring in for months.
A Tale of Two Addicts
Best Selling Author Loses Control of Her Own Narrative
Authoring Her Own Disaster: Detox and Divorce
How could you blame them when the headlines practically wrote themselves?
“So let me get this straight. Not only am I not getting new pages, you’re putting this project on hold to move to the east coast so you can - what? - live out some whimsical seaside fantasy?”
You sat in your office chair, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes, pen hovering above the signature line of your divorce papers like a memoir you don’t want to take ownership of as your editor sighs at you over speakerphone.
“I’m doing what they told me to do in therapy, Miles. I’m changing the scenery, starting over. It’s difficult to write any pages for you if I’m too catatonically depressed to get out of bed. Take it as good news, a strategic move. Literally.”
The house has a history. That’s the reason you’d chosen it, frankly. You’d discussed the listings with your realtor over the phone, clicking through the pictures as they recounted the amenities and specs of each property.
“And then there’s the Harkness house…”
If her goal was to intrigue you she’d accomplished it tenfold, having you on the hook for every sordid detail as she regaled you with the story of a widowed heiress making a splash of scandal through the coastal town with her extravagance. She leaned into the impropriety of it all, trying to sell you with gossip, but all you heard was the story of a woman who had reclaimed her life after losing love. Perhaps the house held that energy in its foundation. Maybe if she did it there, so could you.
Pulling up the winding driveway you almost feel a page turn, a fresh start. Then the moving van crunches gravel behind you and your phone pings with a missed call from your lawyer, breaking the spell of your daydream.
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It’s been a long day already, an endless stream of delays and snafus. Missing parts and tedious tinkering with finicky engines has left Frankie a mess of sweat, grease, and frustration. The sigh of a long day finally finished whistles out as he climbs the stairs to the office, ready to hand in a few leaves of paperwork and drag himself home when the sound of muffled conversation gives him pause.
“She’s ruining everything, we’ve all but flown in the film crew and we hardly have half a film without that house in it!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Ray, she could be perfectly cooperative. We don’t know-”
“It’s for fucking NETFLIX, Tim. I won’t be made to look foolish by some scandalous, self important, Hollywood-”
“And you won’t. Let’s just give her the packet, for all we know we could have signed papers come Monday morning.”
That’s all Frankie hears before the desire to get out of there steers his body back toward the stairs. I can turn these in on Monday, not worth the hassle...
Before his steel toe can touch the second step, though, the door swings open and a booming voice sounds behind him.
“Ah! Mr. Morales! Good timing, son. You pass the Harkness house on your way out of here, don’t you?”
The question is moot, the offices and hangar located along the coast such that there’s practically no choice but to pass the seaside estate if you want to reach the town and its modest sprawl of surrounding neighborhoods.
“I do, sir.”
“Then it’s meant to be. I’m sure you’ve heard that it’s newly occupied and we have a…welcome packet of sorts…for the new owner but the courier’s service is closed. Would you mind dropping this off on your way home?”
Tim, the more even keeled of the two executives that frequent these offices, hands over a manilla envelope without waiting for an answer, traces of engine grease still clinging to Frankie's skin leaving faint fingerprints on the hefty packet. The man cuts in again before Frankie can open his mouth to speak.
“Is the jet ready for takeoff in the morning? We’re expected in New York by eleven.”
Frankie studies the name on the envelope for a long moment before looking up to meet the impatient gaze of the man in front of him.
“Ah, yeah- Yes, sir. She’s ready for takeoff. Pilot’s ready for you anytime after eight, should you decide to leave earlier.”
He only receives a slight nod before both men push past him and he’s left alone outside the office door, eyes drawn back to the neatly printed label with your name on it. Why does it sound so familiar?
Lost in a daze of curiousity, Frankie’ feet carry him down the stairs, through the hangar, and out to his truck. He’s so distracted by the strange feeling in his gut that he starts his drive with his steel toes still on and the work orders still stacked along with the mystery packet in his passenger seat.
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It's been a week and you're still staring at, discovering, stumbling over boxes.
How the hell does one person accumulate this much stuff?, you think as you sit on the sofa and nurse the soon-to-be bruise on your shin from the cardboard cube you'd just rammed into rounding the corner into the living room. The house in LA had seemed so desolate when Trevor had moved out and now you sit surrounded by a sea of what now feels like junk.
Even in this vast expanse of square footage and seaside it seems the walls might close in on you at any moment.
Thoughts manifesting into reality, you begin to feel too hot seemingly from nowhere. Pulling at the collar of your worn t-shirt, you go to crack open the nearest window when a blue pickup truck rounds the bend and pulls up to your gate. Before you can take too long to squint and guess at who the hell would be at your gate on a Friday evening, the driver presses the call button and your phone begins to ring.
“Hello?”
The phone crackles lightly and a deep, dulcet voice answers you.
“Yes, ah- I've got a delivery here. Is this the new owner?”
From the window you can see the figure in the truck cab lift an envelope to read it and he confirms your name.
“Yeah, that's me. I'll buzz you in.”
“Thanks.”
You hang up and press the button to let him through, watching as he winds up the drive and stops in front of the house.
Had you forgotten to sign something? He asked about being the homeowner, so it can't be another addendum to Trevor's many demands attached to the divorce. Your confusion and curiosity gives way to a flustered state when you open the door.
The first things you notice are the rich brown orbs looking back at you, brows, lids, and laugh lines working to form a frame of sincere apology, like he knows it's unorthodox for him to be standing on your front step at this hour. The rest of him is just as entrancing - plush lips beneath a gorgeous nose, a broad frame just as soft as it is strong, and a rueful smile that has your cheeks flushing as he adjusts his Standard Oil cap to lend you a peak of soft brown curls.
“Hi there,” he interrupts your stupor and you wonder just how long you've been staring.
“I'm here to deliver this. It's from the Standard Oil offices, ah…courier service is closed and it's pretty important I guess.” He holds the envelope out for you to take, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck in what seems like a nervous habit. You can see the faint grease marks on his fingertips, a matching set of smears on the paper in his hand.
“Oh, um. Thanks. Any idea what it's for?” You take the packet from him, eyeing it curiously. It's simply addressed to you with no further indicators on the outside.
“Something about the property I suppose, not really clear on the details. Lot of history in this house, ya know?”
“So I'm told.” You smile softly, toying with the metal fastener, more intrigued by the messenger than the message at this moment.
After a brief silence he shakes his head, seeming to come back to the present, and you wonder where his mind had drifted to. “Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sorry for the interruption.”
“Not at all. Thanks again.” You wiggle the packet lightly in your hand.
He cracks another smile and you're certain his eyes roam over you before he mutters a goodnight and turns to go back to his truck. You stay stagnant for a while, watching as he gets into the cab and pulls out of the gate, and a few long moments after that as well.
Finally closing the door, you pad into the kitchen and pour a glass of wine to sip while you open your mystery packet. As you set it on the island countertop a few stray sheets slip out from beneath the envelope. Picking them up, you notice they don't seem to have anything to do with you or the house. In fact they look like order sheets of some kind, a list of mechanical sounding items listed with costs and quantities scribbled next to them.
Next to a black smudge to match your packet and the stranger's fingertips is a carefully printed name on a line marked ‘authorized by’. You read the name aloud and your stomach flutters at the way it somehow feels familiar to say.
“Fransisco Morales…”
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More to come soon, let me know in the comments or my inbox if you want to be tagged for the next chapter 😬
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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year
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Moonlight, A Pink Scarf Universe Story
A/N: So, I was challenged to do a prompt game, and since I'm desperately trying to fight my perfectionism and become more consistent with my writing, I took on the challenge and wrote this dramatic little heartbreaker this afternoon just under the wire like crazy person. I hope you enjoy this short, barely edited extension of Pink Scarf. It takes place a few months after the Christmas 1960 flashback in Part 16. (Please go easy on me because it is literally the least revised/edited thing I've ever put out and I desperately hope you like it 💗)
Thanks to @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for challenging me to do this even when I wanted to convince myself I couldn't do it.
Prompt: “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.”
Rating: PG-13 || Word Count: 2k
TW: Miscarriage, medical trauma, angst, depression, intrusive thoughts
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Moonlight
Hawaii, March 1961
The room is pressing in on you with all these jovial faces, celebrating in paradise after Elvis’ successful benefit concert for the Pearl Harbor Arizona Memorial. You should be celebrating with them.
You wish you could.
Instead, you are fighting back tears, praying that no one notices your frantic need to escape the otherwise wonderful atmosphere.
Elvis decided to bring you all along for a month-long vacation of sorts as he films his newest picture, Blue Hawaii, and performs the benefit concert to raise money for the Memorial. Y’all need some rest and recreation, he’d said joyfully, his eyes falling on you in particular, and how could you possibly refuse? It genuinely seemed like a great idea, even though he’d technically be working, and so would Jack by extension, but a change of scenery would do you some good after everything that's happened. Maybe you and Jack could reconnect on the tropical getaway, you’d thought.
But so much had happened since you agreed to this trip.
No one knew, of course. Not Jack. Not your family. Certainly not Elvis. You had made sure of it because you couldn’t stand the hopeful looks that would have come with the news, and the inevitable pity that would’ve come after.
The humid Hawaiian air coupled with the room full of people makes you feel as though you can’t draw a full breath. Lightheaded, you push your way through the throng of people filling the lavish home that had been rented for the express purpose of Elvis being able to stay comfortable and private during his shooting schedule. It’s an incredible relief once you burst out onto the patio, then stumble down the sandy path to the breathtaking beach.
Surprisingly, there’s not a soul on the moonlit sand, and for that you are eternally grateful because you cannot hold back your choked sobs any longer. The ebb and flow of the surf crashes over your crying, and you very much wish you could drown your sorrows in the vastness of the ocean in front of you.
Getting pregnant again was not even something you thought was possible. It was cruel, you thought, that you’d nearly made it 12 weeks this time before your body decided that it would reject the baby. You had just started to really, truly think it would be different this time. You were getting ready to tell Jack. You were almost, almost happy.
Even more cruel was that it was almost a year to the day of you bleeding out on the floor of the Rollerdome.
In some ways you’d been thankful that everyone had been so busy preparing for the trip that no one paid much mind to the fact that you locked yourself in the bathroom for hours, silently sobbing through the cramping and the bleeding and the clotting. You’d known then it was too late.
Tears stream down your cheeks as you hug your knees and begin to rock in the soft sand. At least it’s beautiful here, you think absently, trying to soothe yourself.
You’d taken to bed, claiming a bout of food poisoning, and no one was the wiser, being as excited and busy as they were. Not one of them seemed to bat an eye or think it was strange that no one else had any symptoms. A small part of you breaks a little at that, feeling more alone in the world than you ever have. But another part figures it’s just as well. Perhaps it is a blessing that no one knew of your latest failure. Honestly, you so were disappointed in yourself over it all you didn’t think could handle that disappointment from others, especially Jack.
Two days after losing your second child, you’d gotten on the plane to come here, spending hours upon hours with a false smile spread across your features. Maybe if you smiled enough you’d start to believe it. After all, you were in paradise with Elvis Presley. Millions would kill to be where you are.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Be grateful for what you have, you berate yourself, as you have more than once on the trip. Not even the stunning beauty of the island has been able to push your thoughts away from your loss, your seemingly unending sorrow permeating even the most beautiful of sunsets.
The only moment when you’d felt truly free of it had been watching Elvis’ concert earlier. He was so mesmerizing that it was impossible not to be caught up in his performance. You’d been happy for the momentary distraction, for the way your heart had flip flopped a little at the sight of him in his element, sweaty and feeding off the crowd effortlessly. It was easy to get swept away amongst all the screaming fans, to understand why the man you’d called a friend was the sensation that he was, and to forget everything but him for just a little while.
But by the time this stupid afterparty rolled around, the dark cloud that followed you this past year found you once more, and you were honestly too tired to push it away any longer.
You can’t help thinking how you should have an infant with you now, that in a kinder world you’d have your baby and perhaps another on the way. But the world is not always kind. Instead you are empty and alone.
So you find yourself sobbing on a gorgeous beach in Hawaii in the middle of the night, finally allowing yourself to sit in the grief of your misfortune.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been out here before his tall, lanky frame towers over you, interrupting your grief so suddenly that you find yourself livid.
You furiously swipe the tears from your cheeks, knowing your makeup is smearing but not having the energy or wherewithal to care. “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people,” you snap.
Even in the darkness, you see how taken aback he is by your anger, his pretty face shifting from surprise to annoyance.
“Is that any way to talk to the guy who brought you to this beautiful place?” Elvis says lightly, but you can hear the edge in his tone. He’s not used to people speaking like that to him, least of all you.
Honestly, you’re not really sure when you last spoke to him at all. Since your strange little embrace on Christmas, he’d taken to avoiding you most of the time, yet again. Coupled with how empty you felt from your miscarriages, the fact that your friend had been so obviously (and seemingly purposefully) absent from your life in the past year was heartbreaking in its own right. It was like a slap in the face on top of your other failures, so far from the unbridled excitement he’d shown when he’d discovered your first pregnancy before anyone else had. So far from the love and care and attention he’d given you before.
You’re not sure you really understood how much it bothered you until this very moment. His sudden entitlement for attention and gratefulness makes your blood boil.
You pop up off the sand, pushing your windblown hair out of your face. “Oh, yes, how sorry I am that not every one of my thoughts is about your stunning generosity, your majesty,” you say sarcastically, viciously, before turning to stomp down the beach away from him. You’ve never, ever spoken to him this way, to anyone this way, but the darkness of your sorrow has flared into something else entirely, this blistering anger threatening to swallow you whole and take Elvis with you.
“Excuse me?” he says indignantly, grasping your arm and whipping you back to face him. His eyes flash in the darkness, both in confusion and with warning.
“Don’t touch me!” you spit, ripping your arm out of his grasp.
“What has gotten into you? What the hell did I do?” he shouts, his voice raising over the surf.
“Not everything is about you, Elvis!” you scream back at him.
For a second, it looks as if you’ve slapped him across the face, with the way his eyes widen in surprise.
You pause for a moment, breath heaving, before continuing. “And since when do you even care what’s going on with me?”
 “W-What are ya talkin’ about? O-Of course I care! I-I-I brought ya on this trip, d-d-didn’t I?” The emotions fly over his features so quickly it makes it too hard to discern what he’s thinking, but his stutter belies his frustration.
“You’ve barely talked to me in a year, Elvis. Can’t imagine why I’d think you care,” you scoff.
His eyes go dark, then blank, that Hollywood mask of his sliding over his features. “You’re nuts! You’re just bein’ crazy…” he starts, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I must be. I must be crazy thinkin’ my friend might give me the time of day after…everything that’s happened,” you hiss back.
Elvis blinks, his long lashes fanning over his cheekbones. You don’t know if he’s finally done the math in his head, figuring out that you nearly died and lost your baby almost exactly a year ago. Or maybe, like he’d somehow known you were pregnant the first time, he gleans some supernatural understanding of what might be happening with you now. Either way, his gaze softens dramatically.
“Oh, honey,” he says, “I didn’t—”
Yeah, you didn’t, you think bitterly. He didn’t do a lot of things. He wasn’t even there after you almost died. But you suppose being a star of his caliber didn’t leave him much time to slum it with you, not anymore. And why would he want to? Not when you’ve been depressed and have already failed at the one thing you felt you were created to do as a woman.
“Just leave me alone, E. You’ve gotten good at that,” you mutter, angry tears filling your eyes, turning away from him to stare out into the churning waves.
You can’t look at him. But you feel the heat of his eyes, nonetheless.
“Don’t do that, y/n,” he says quietly.
“Don’t do what? Speak the truth?”
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he growls.
He doesn’t get to be angry. Not about this.
“No, you don’t know, Elvis. You have no idea what it’s been like, you couldn’t. And you haven’t even tried…” you trail off, shaking your head.
You know that’s a lie. Whatever had happened between you on Christmas had been something, as much as you’d tried to deny it and forget his strange behavior. Perhaps that had been him trying.
Suddenly, more than anything, you want him to pull you into his arms like he did that night three months ago. You want him to comfort you and let you sob against his chest, to inhale the distinct scent of him as the heat of his lean body presses into yours. You want the desperate tension that is climbing between you to shatter you and make you forget that the past year had ever happened.
But instead of drawing you close, you watch him put distance between you. You feel as he fortifies that invisible wall he’s built between you this past year. It’s only in the depths of his churning cobalt eyes that you see something akin to apology, along with something deeper that neither of you truly wants to unpack.
Then, Elvis shutters that churning away, his fist clenching and unclenching in time with his jaw. “Yeah, I guess not. I’ll leave ya alone, then.” And he turns and walks away.
Oh god. You feel as though you’ve been hit in the chest, pain radiating inexplicably through your torso, the claws of his dismissal ripping through your insides. You don’t know why. You wanted him to go, and he went.
You sink down into the sand, fresh tears pooling in your eyes, and you wish more than anything that the ocean would just swallow you whole.
Taglist:
@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love
@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore
@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx
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deadpool15 · 6 months
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My girl
If I had to explain the context of my relationship, it would be complicated. Well, at least to me, it is. You see, when me and my girl and that isn't even my girl met, I was in college. I became an exchange student, and my home school does have this program where they pick a selection of students to go to different countries. I decided to throw my name in the bin to see how well my luck was.
Turns out my luck was pretty fucking good. I was able to get me a one-way ticket to Seoul National University for exactly a year. It was amazing. I got to experience so many new things, and the culture was like a change in scenery for me. But all good things must come to an end, and I started to fall behind on rent. I know what you're thinking, don't you live in a dorm? Well no I didn't, dorms are shit and I wasn't gonna take that chance I managed to find a nice job until some young fucking hideous looking bitch made a complaint about me to my boss. I'm 90% she was just being fucking racist because she kept trying to touch my hair like I was some exotic animal and caught a whole fucking attitude when I didn't allow her too. "Fucking bitch."
So, shit really hit the fan from that point. I was out of money, struggling to find a job, and my grades were starting to look like how I felt. Until I met Sayaka, a much older woman. She was approximately 38 years old at the time, while I was 20. She gave off this vibe of a confident, mature woman and I fucking loved it. She smooth talked me so fast some must say it wasn't fucking pathetic. Had a girl sitting her thinking about her every day and twirling my hair. You would think we were seeing each other after a while or at least that's what I thought.
Sayaka made it clear what she was looking for, and it wasn't a girlfriend. Sugarbaby, I believe, was the correct term. She wanted someone to spoil with gifts and affection but didn't want a relationship. Now, at first I was ok with that, I mean don't judge me I needed the money and she was hot so I was ok with it. Well, until I wasn't. People would openly flirt with her, and as much as she said she was mine, I started to realize how much she wasn't. I mean, we weren't together. She was literally paying me to "have fun" and "being pretty," and I kinda felt used.
Of course, I couldn't be mad at her, I knew what I was getting myself into, but I still had feelings. So, instead of bringing it up to her, I took the last "paycheck," she gave me, and ghosted her. I know what you're thinking, very mature of you, Stella. But the sad truth was I would rather act like she didn't exist than have her tell me she didn't like me at all. She did try to call at first, but then it all stopped I assumed she got tired of chasing after a immature fucking child. I mean, I could understand that, though as much as I understood her, a part of me wanted her to chase me. Make me feel wanted for once.
After a few months with no Sayaka, I fell into a deep state of depression. My best friend, Aubrey, had been trying to get me out of my house for a long time. But I wouldn't listen. Eventually, she randomly showed up to Korea, claiming she was entering some form of competition, meaning she would be here to help me and get my mind off of Sayaka. After a while, I felt better, I realized I had to learn how to love myself and that I was worth more than being someone's little sugarbaby. I mean, I was girlfriend material, and if she couldn't see that, then screw her. I would love to do that. Ok, maybe I wasn't entirely over her, but baby steps. I did want her back, but it was obvious she didn't feel the same, so I started to get myself back out there.
Audrey said it would be good for me. I took her advice and went on several dates, none of which worked out until I met this guy Jake. He was an exchange student from Hong Kong, he was 2 years younger than me though. But besides that, he was great. As great as it gets. The perfect gentleman. I just even kinda started to actually like him. Everything finally felt as if it had fallen into place in my life. I felt good for the first time in a long time. I was sitting at home scrolling through tiktok. I watched a video of some dude doing a mukbang. "Omg, why is this dude always eating like that. Like, do you viewer's wants to see you eat and enjoy the food or die trying. There is no way a mouth is supposed to open like that. Bro is literally not human." I was sitting there watching in disgust when my phone started ringing. Scaring the absolute shit out of me.
"Fuck," I looked at the caller ID and saw Audrey name pop up. That bitch is always scaring me. I pressed the answer and heard her yelling, more specifically Audrey's yelling in the background. "Audrey, ehat have we talked about with the yelling. I'm already hard of hearing thanks to you. Please." She ended hung up and immediately called me back on ft. I answered, "What have I said about hanging up on me like I'm one of you hoes?" I said while laughing. She started laughing again. "Hola, my beautiful bestie friend, ehat are you doing?"Minding my business what do need, Audrey?" She stared at me smiling mischievously. "So since you my bestie, I thought it would be amazing of you to like make us some pepper steak and rice."
"Wow, you called me, and the thing you wanted to talk about was me cooking. How fake of you, Ms. Lane." She looked at me with pleading eyes. "I wanna show the girls one of my best friends many qualities." I tried to glare at her, but a smile slowly started to creep up on my face. She had won me over, "Fine, I will cook your favorite meal for you. Would you like me to play delivery boy as well for you?" I stated jokingly until I saw the look on her was knowing she, in fact, did expect me to deliver the meal. "The food will be there, no get off my phone, you bitch." "Omg, I love you Stella so much." I smiled and hung up and got to cooking, it took me approximately an 1 to finish the dish. Audrey loves it ever since we were little kids. I make plates for everyone and start packing up the to-go trays. Piling all the food in my SUV, then making sure it is secure. I start to drive to the place.
Now that I think about it Audrey hasn't told me where this place is. Or anything about the show. I just assumed she didn't want to disclose too much information. But it's still weird, I mean we usually tell each other everything no matter what. A bit odd.
Stellabella🥰- Hey, babe, where exactly is the name of the competition.
Audreybunny🤡- Oo, it's called Street Women Fighter 2.
Stellabella🥰- Crazy how I had to actually ask you this stuff when you usually tell me. Isn't it?
Audreybunny🤡- Oo really..... what makes you say that?
Stellabella🥰- Why so secretive ma'am?
Audreybunny- It's just my first time in a competition like this, so I was still a bit shocked. That's all. It's weird at first. It's like crazy down here. It's wild.
Stellabella🥰- You're lying to me. You used the word it's like 3 to 4 times but it's ok I'll see when I get there send me the address.
I stared at my phone, confused. Audrey never kept secrets. Why did she care about this show so much? I guess I will actually just have to wait and find out. I use the GPS in my car. After about 49 minutes, I made it there. "I don't think I ever even watched this show, let alone heard of it. She is right. This is weird." I step outside of the car, grabbing the food carefully. "Let's stop overhinking. She is right. This is a new thing for her. I'm proud of her. My bestie is on TV shows now." I smiled softly at the thought and started walking towards the entrance.
I speak to the man at the front desk, letting him know that Jam Republic, as she texted me prior, is waiting on my arrival. He smiled at me and nodded his head down the hall, gesturing me to follow his lead. I bow towards his out of respect and a force of habit now and follow him down to the elevator. After about 5 floors go by, he shows me to a colorful hallway. "I believe you have it from here. The sign says Jam Republic on the door. It big and bright pink you can't miss it. Have a nice day, ma'am." He tells me before bowing and walking off back towards the elevator. I walk further down the hall, reading the names on the doors. "BEBE... 1MILLION... WOLF'LO... TSUBAKILL. Why does that one sound weirdly familiar. I mean, it could just be like a weirdly unique name that I find interesting."
I stare at the door for a while, completely forgetting where I am. Until a hand pulls me, I scream slightly and turn around to see Audrey smiling. "What did you get lost or something?" She says, genuinely afraid she put me through stress. "No, sorry, I was just admiring the names. Hey, have you ever heard of this one?" I ask, staring at her questionable. She looks at the names before shaking her head. "If I'm being honest, the majority of the groups are korean, so I haven't heard of anyone here, you know. Come on, everyone is waiting." Audrey scolds my hand, bouncing down the halls excited.
We walk into the door, and I greet everyone. The vibe is nice, and everyone is friendly. Which I am very thankful for, I meaning usually have a difficult time having conversations with new people. Or just meeting new people in general. I hand everyone a plate. They are sitting there thanking me before digging in. I hear Kristen on the sidelines gushing over the meal and applauding me for my "master cooking skills," or so she says. I blush slightly, thank God for my dark skin. I suddenly get the urge to pee, I grab Audrey's hand without speaking and make my way to the door. She whines because I take her away from her precious meal, but eventually get the hint and help me find the bathroom. She takes me there, letting me inside while saying she will be in the room. And if anything happens, call her. I allow her to leave, not wanting her meal to get cold, then make my way inside the stall.
I was in the process of finishing when I went to flush the toilet and hear the door sqeak open. I walk out thinking it's Audrey. "Babe, I thought you wanted to finish the meal. I literally slaved over the stove to cook. Not to mention me violating traffic laws to get it here." I stated sarcastically before not hearing her response. I continue to wash my hands before I turn around to say something else to her. Only to realize it wasn't her at all. "Sayaka?" She stares me up and down before getting close to me.
The space between us is so small that it makes me nervous. "Glad to see that I've only been gone for what, 3 months, and you have a new replacement right at the ready. Making meals for her. Aren't you just the perfect little girlfriend?" I gulp looking at her, trying to create a bit of personal space between us, and it seems she didn't like that. "You're not running away from me again. What exactly does Audrey the little fairy have that I don't, huh? Stella, you know I don't like repeating myself." I look down trying to avoid eye contact. It feels like I'm frozen, I wanted to see her so bad, but I forget the massive effect she had on me. Seems she didn't, though. "Me and Audrey aren't together. She has a boyfriend. And so do I."
I try to say that last bit with confidence, but it seems like at the moment that shit hasn't gone out the window. My voice cracks. She smiles at me, but I can tell I won't achieve anything good with rhat smile. "That's cute. My little baby got herself a boyfriend. Call him." I look at her confused, why the fuck would she want me to call the guy she is jealous of. More importantly, why is she jealous of Jake. " I don't owe you anything. We weren't in a relationship, and you made those guidelines very clear at the beginning. So you have no reason to be mad at me." I try to hide the tears falling out of my eyes by looking away until she grabs my chin.
She wiped my tears while looking at me. "Baby, I gave your money because you don't need to struggle, ok? I'm your support system, whether it's cuddling you when you're sad or gifting you shit when you're happy. In the beginning, I didn't want a relationship, I just wanted you. Labels scared me, but what scared me more was losing you. I care about you." I stared at her shockingly while she gave her confession. I didn't expect that to happen. Out of all the outcomes I planned in my head. "I care about you too, and I want to be with you. She kissed my forehead while smiling lovely at me. "My little girlfriend then." As she said that, it made me the happiest girl in the world. Experiencing true love is wild.
"Now, akachan, what do you say we give that ex-boyfriend a call and make it official." She says while leaving open-mouthed kisses down my neck, causing me to moan as she grabs my hips, pulling me flush against her body. I start to moan until she speaks up. "No, no baby, say it for the phone call. Gotta show him who you belong to, don't we?"
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Houseki no Kuni chapter 99 "Beginnings"
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"The chapter was great. I was having some AoT flashbacks but the direction 99 went was so cathartically depressing and peacefully sad at the same time. love how Rock-kun is the perfect embodiment of tranquility and peace with life; unlike Phos, who was constantly changing and chaotic. Rock-kun and Phos' conversation over contentment and regret in existence was wonderful. A measly pebble and a literal god finding common ground with one another is poignant as fuck; topple that with the final panel of having yet another beautiful scenery in such an empty time for the story... it hit me in the feels. The remaining mystery that needs to be answered is how Kongou's creator spoke to Phos, no? I'm expecting some flashback chapter right after this." (Wakivuu_)
"Personally I think 98 fits well thematically so I wasn’t that worried, I knew Phos would eventually pray for them as they attain enlightenment (much like Bodhissatva who prays for all sentient beings to “end their sufferings and pain of life” which in this case the Lunarians). And I really love that rock! Frizzle frizzle. I love his song. Also, the fact that Phos sleeping in the black panels was in a complete parallel to chapter 1’s Morga waking them up, only this time it’s Rock, and it’s been eons that has passed enough for the star to evolve into a white dwarf. Really amazed how Ichikawa can bring so much detail every chapter, I get too overwhelmed with the insufferable agony every chapter that I tend to miss out on parallels, I think I need another reread tbh. Loved this chapter, also hoping for a flashback!" (wallnosekyla)
ch1 and ch99 parallels. In both Phos lays down for a nap in the grass, at this point in his life he is purposeless and unfulfilled, existing to pass the time. In the first chapter he is called awake by Morga into a society that does not value him for the inherent characteristics of his body. Gem society is static, gems are generally content with the way thing are, and things only start getting shaken up when Phos pushes for something different and the others follow in his wake which leads to the eventual destruction of gem society and all of humanity. In the second set of panels there is no one left to wake Phos so he sleeps until enough time has passes that the sun has become a white dwarf, long enough for rocks to gain sentience.
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The first gem red diamond wanted to be more like Adamant so Adamant molded the gems in the shape of humans, made them eyes, and covered them in powder. Phos in turn tries to give the rock all the things humans had like sight and mobility. However the rock is not dissatisfied with its existence, the rock does not want to become human. This is in contrast with all of the human descendants we meet who one way or another become dissatisfied with their existences; from the Moon People who are dissatisfied with existence and wish to cease existing, to the gems who through contact with the Moon People become dissatisfied with their gem bodies and wish to become beings of pure spirit like the Moon People, to the Admirabilis who struggle to maintain their populations and sentience.
Phos has become the only true human combining spiritual (moon pearl), mineral (phosphophyllite, lapis lazuli), and flesh (fossilized shell), as well as the last creation of humans (adamant eye), and a god or artificial bodhisattva, and this simple rock is more satisfied than Phos. (there's also probably some discussion to be made that humanity's final hope, the praying machine Adamant broke and it's only after humanity's descendants made another one out of their own that the souls of humans are allows to cease but I lack the relevant PhDs to analyze that so I'll leave it to someone else)
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(in Shinto, everything has a spirit)
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flowersofevilvn · 2 months
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How would Wither approach an MC that kind of, shuts down after being trapped in the meadow? They don't try and fight or break out, but they just... don't really do anything? Maybe they sleep a lot and only eat when literally force fed. Won't speak or do anything if they're not literally dragged to do it. Whether this is a sort of intentional protest, silent treatment and food strike sort of thing. Or they just, don't really know how to deal with the situation so they just genuinely shut down mentally in a way. Would he try and get them to do stuff? Get bored or frustrated? Or see it as them being sick or something? Sorry if this is a weird question I have a silly fic idea and I'm trying to parse out the most IC way Wither would react lol,,,,,
PS. Flowers of Evil is so great! The demo is awesome and I'm looking forward to the full release. Take your time with finishing it up and take time for yourself as well! Have a great day :>
In character? he's manipulative and he'll take a chemical approach. pheromone secretion to try and lift their mood, dosing their food with anxiety and depression targeted medicinal herbs, psychedelics to try and open them up to altering their perception of him and leave them more open to suggestion.
he'll try some sweeter methods as well, trying to entertain them with elaborate topiaries, singing to them in his native language, reciting poetry to them, altering his appearance to try and look more appealing for them, trying to engage them in the animal life that's in the forest surrounding them- he can also physically move the location of the meadow and make maze-like walking paths to new locations if he thinks they might need a little change of scenery.
at the heart of it all he really believes that you belong together and that you'll reciprocate his feelings if he only finds the right way to bring them out. he's willing to do almost anything to make that happen.
(also omg of you write a fic tag meeeee !! o.o )
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hollowfyshunsuikubo · 2 months
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The Midnight Flame
A/N: More soulmate au i literally love this concept sm Izuru is one of my favourite Bleach characters, and I’ve been playing around with writing this in my spare time. This one is set pre-tybw but post fullbringer arc. I used the soul tug concept for this one, where the first touch between soulmates loosens the tug completely. Though, if your soulmate is having a hard time in any way, it can cause you pain. Only a little angst in this one >:) reader is both depressed and enraged so good luck. Once again, not Beta read
Izuru Kira x gn!reader Word count: 6.4k Warnings: angst, nsfw smut, bad language AU: Soulmates
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Morning. The sunlight through the windows, the feel of a blanket covering only his legs. Morning. The arrival of another day, going to waste. Sitting up, Kira looks at his hands. Hardened from years of being a shinigami. He inspected them, turning them over, holding them up to the light that caused him to squint, searching for something that was both never and always there.
A hand reached up to grab one of his, followed by the interlocking of fingers. His heart jumped as he looked to the right, hoping, praying, needing- 
And there was nothing. He was alone in his bed, as always. It got cold at night, but it was warm in the mornings. With a sigh, he got out of bed, and got ready for the day. His captain was… interesting, to say the least. A music man. He was so different from Gin, like fire and water. Gin was unpredictable, he came and went as he pleased, often leaving some form of destruction in his wake. He raged through the Gotei 13, laughing as he did. His betrayal burned, and left its scars. Third degrees ran up over Kira’s arms, his torso, his legs. It felt like the fire of it was behind his eyes. When he thought of Gin, he thought of fire, he thought of how it felt to be burning without any water to douse the flames. Captain Otorobashi was different. He was like water. He filled the spaces he entered with ease, and even when he left, droplets of his kind words or generous music remained. He flowed with what needed to be done, and he left no space untouched. Captain Otorobashi was a calming presence, one that soothed the burns that covered Kira day after day, and finally put out the fires that had enveloped his skin. 
But with water came caution. Fire, at least, was direct with its deadliness. Water lulled you into a false sense of security, then drowned you as soon as you got too comfortable. Water could fill your lungs and take away your ability to scream, to speak. Water filled up any and all spaced, and could very well kill any and all within them. Kira had been burned before, and even if the flames had been cooled with sweet water, there was no telling if he’d drown. 
Morning. Kira walked out of his room and greeted his squadmates. Morning. Morning. Morning. Each day was the same. Morning meetings with his Captain, who would be strumming on a guitar or reading one of those manga he enjoyed. Then training, then requests, then paperwork until sundown, then to bed. Each day is more repetitive than the last, no change in scenery, no chance to unwind at the end of the night with something other than a bottle of sake and his right hand. The same hand he thought they had grabbed, whoever they were. He would love to change his days with the feeling of someone beside him, lounging in his bed when he went back to his room, smiling and waiting for him. He would love to wake up beside someone, kisses turning into wandering hands, wandering hands that turned into being late and disheveled for his morning meeting with Captain Otorobashi. He would love to finally see his soulmate. 
As he approached his Captain's office, he focused in on his heart. He felt the same familiar tug, that ever present feeling of being pulled somewhere. In a moment of hesitation, Kira paused in front of his Captains office. A lump rose in his throat, choking him as he wondered where his other half was.
“This could have been an afternoon job,” You groan as Shuhei drops a large stack of files on your desk. He shakes his head and tosses you a pen.
“This could be an afternoon job, but it might take all day, so it’s an all day job for you.” Shuhei was never one to beat around the bush with you. It was like talking to a printer. The same words, over and over again, hell-bent on forcing you to forget the incessant tugging you constantly felt in your heart, and the fact that you often found yourself staring out the window, hoping that your obviously internally tortured soulmate was at least doing okay. It was a painful tug, one that made your heart ache. Some days, it was so bad you couldn’t work, which brought no end of shame to Captain Muguruma and Lieutenant Hisagi. It’s not like you liked it either, as you’ve tried saying so many times. But neither of them are too impressed with you.
Recently, it’s like you’re being punished for things you can't readily control. Cramps had you taken out, despite the fact you were more than willing to throw yourself into whatever training was being offered by Captain Muguruma. Anything was better than missing another day because of some stupid pain. You were denied. You threw a plate in response. 
After that, during a particularly bad day, after an apparently horrendous captains meeting, the tugging on your heart had wrenched so bad it caused you to vomit, while also praying your soulmate wasn’t a captain, least of all your captain, since some of the tugs in your heart seemed to line up with his foul moods. You didn't really think it was though. What kind of soulmate literally throws you into your room and slams the door, leaving you to choke?
Whoever your soulmate was, they were causing no end to the grief you were going through. The paperwork on your desk was looking extremely flammable. Fire seemed to be the only way you were going to calm down, since you burned with rage over just how standoffish, stubborn, and stoic your squadmates were. You were fed up. But you still took the work that you correctly deemed an afternoon job, and first thing in the morning, started your pity paperwork with a scowl.
One day, you’d meet your soulmate and be able to quell the furious tugging on your heart that sometimes left you incapacitated. One day you’d be able to sit down and do pity paperwork so fast, Captain Muguruma would have no choice but to sing your praises.
One day, you'd be appreciated for the fact that you still work hard, despite the challenges you face. 
The nights were almost worse than the mornings. Sweat dripped down his face as he hunched over himself, holding his dick in his hand, stroking, squeezing slightly every now and then, his eyes fluttering. So often his heart hurt at night, and so often did he engage in guilty pleasures he should be saving for his soulmate. It brought him no end of guilt. He threw his head back as he began to move faster, his cock bobbing in his hands as he chased his release. He was filled with images he couldn’t even see clearly- hints of skin, another's hand, another's mouth, another's hole-
Kira gasped and groaned as he spilled over his fist, slowing his stroke to nothing. His mind was a mess, and once again, the clarity that came after hit him like a brick. 
What was he doing? He could be making good use of his time, getting sleep, resting his mind, being awake enough to maybe search for his soulmate, and yet. He was awake so late, hand on his cock, a weak and pale imitation of someone who would bring him joy that surpassed an orgasm beyond belief. Face burning in shame- that fire again -he cleaned off his hand before laying down. Fire was what burned him in the first place. That traitor, the man he trusted most, the man who, like a flame, had swept across him and teased him, teased him, about who the other half of his soul was. Who showed him what it was to be strong like the flame and burn so brightly even the sun would be jealous. 
He found a simple answer while reliving such a betrayal. He was afraid of having what he wanted. He was afraid of the fire of whoever matched his soul because of the burns that would follow. It was the reason he only kept Shuhei close, the reason he stayed an arms length away from everyone else, including his captain. His captain, who, like water, would soothe his burns, put out his flame, and carry him to safety if he wished. Yet water killed too, just slower. Kira lay on his back, a hand behind his head, and focused on the tug in his heart. He wondered if everyone had to go searching for that tug. Maybe his soulmate just had a simple life, without much fear or stress. Maybe his soulmate's heart was a closed book, better at hiding its anger and fear than he was. 
The last thought hurt his heart. He had gone through so much- he only wished that his soulmate was alright, and that whenever they searched for their connection, their tug, that they were not angry with what they found.
If it were possible to be enraged at a person you’d never met, seen, spoken to, or even knew at all, you decided you were rightfully pissed at your soulmate, whoever the bastard was. Your chest felt like it was being torn open, and you hid in the gardens of your squad. You were on a late night patrol, and things were going fine.
Until.
Until whoever your soulmate was decided to have a miserable time of things. You gagged as you curled up into a ball, hiding behind a large tree. You wouldn’t be seen like this. You hated it. If you could’ve made any wish at that moment, it would be to close off the connection between your souls, if even for two minutes, just so you could at least run to your room to have privacy. With what little strength you had, You attempted to stand. Tears pricked your eyes from the sheer pain, and you felt your dinner threaten to come up.
Then a hand grasped your arm.
“You look like shit,” Shuhei said bluntly. “Why are you still out here? Go home.” With a glaring side eye, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp, stumbling back a little. He must’ve heard the gagging, or just his damned sixth sense that told him where you were at all times. He must truly despise you to keep tabs on you like this. To always know when to send you home just so he can dock your pay, save the division a little more money. It made you want to howl. It made you want to feel blood between your teeth and your zanpakuto clenched so tightly in your hands that the sheer force of your grip left bruises.
“Fuck off. I’m fine.” You spat in response. The aching in your chest only got worse. Shuhei didn’t move.
He was at a crossroads. He could pick you up and haul you back to your room in the barracks and force you to stay in, he could stay with you and attempt to help you ride out the waves of this pain that seemed to cause you physical harm, or he could… leave. Shuhei could listen and leave. Listen and leave, easy as that. Something not even Muguruma did. He just grunted and sent you away. Left all the work to him, and let Mashiro annoy the shit out of him while he was working…
He couldn’t leave you. You were his subordinate, and you were in pain. It seemed like you were made of pain. It hurt him, but not as much as it hurt you. You were a diligent person, and you tried so hard. Yet there was always something wrong, things you couldn’t control. Because of the pain, you turned into a being of hate. A cornered, starving dog, snarling at everyone. Sure, you joked sometimes, but your anger was a fire that scorched others. Shuhei wasn’t sure if it burned the Squad or you more. 
Crossroads. He watched as you attempted to stand up straight, a hand grasping the left side of your shihakusho like you were going to rip it off. Your left hand grasping at yourself as if you could tear your soulmate bond out of your chest. In a moment of forgetfulness, Shuehi reached for you, but that flash of anger in your eyes made him stop and lower his hand. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know how to help. He couldn’t leave you, he couldn’t help you, and he couldn’t even show you that your anger was misplaced but not misunderstood. He couldn’t even be a good Lieutenant. He was grasping at nothing. So he stood tall, and just watched. He swallowed words and swallowed pity, and watched. He watched as you finally were able to stand, using the tree you were hiding behind as your crutch. He watched as you glared at him. And he listened as you spoke.
“Did you not hear me, Lieutenant? I’m fine. Fuck off.” Your voice burned with anger. He couldn’t help you, not without flames rising up his skin. But he’d been burned before. Captain Muguruma was made of fire. He burned away all the residual droplets that Tosen has left behind. Fire was a warm, comforting, protective thing when it needed to be. Just as water was not only calm and welcoming, but also a killer. Everything needed moderation. Shuhei knew that fire and water were both needed. You were burning in flames of pain, anger, and your own misery without any water to douse you in. Shuhei swallowed and finally, he spoke.
“You’re not fine. You’re hurting again and-” How like you to cut him off, riling like a dog about to strike.
“Lieutenant Hisagi,” His heart ached. Gone were the days you’d laugh and joke together, calling each other by first names. Another reminder of what had been washed away as the years had gone by. “I know you may not like me right now, but for the love of God, let me do my job.” It felt like a slap to the face. Not like you? You were his friend. Sure, you may not have been his anchor like Momo or Kira, but he still saw you as a friend. You’d begun pulling away. You’d begun to suffer alone after Tosen betrayed the Gotei, and you’d suffered more as your soulmate had begun to pull so hard your heart couldn’t take it. And you had the audacity to say that he was the one that didn’t like you. You-
“Listen,” His voice is sharp, like glass, hoping to slice your skin to make you bleed out your self-loathing. “Shut up. I am your Lieutenant. I am your superior. I am telling you to go home. I am giving you a goddamn order. Are you insubordinate?” He felt cruel. But he was at his wits end with you. There wasn’t anything he could do, and you refused to accept help, or even let him listen. You had shut yourself off and withdrew to the point where he halfway considered putting you on a watch. Yet you persisted, the pain that haunts your every waking moment, something you are determined to not let define you. It hurts him.
People had to focus to feel that tug. Everyone was a master of emotions. The fact you felt it like someone had tied a raging hollow to your heart and soul meant whoever your soulmate was was hiding a great deal of inner pain. Or they didn’t have a good grasp on their emotions. Either way, Shuhei didn’t know how to help. He could feel his tug, pulsing away, but it never hurt. Not like yours. But seeing you, an old friend, in enough pain that you are sick and weakened because of it made him despise your soulmate. It made him want to grab the offender by the throat and throttle them until they go ahold of themselves. A fire burned in your eyes as you turned his words over in your head. Shuhei kept a stern face on, despite the fact he’d directly threatened you. You wouldn’t know it, but he felt remorse for what he had to do.
You wanted to hit Shuhei. He looked every part the asshole as you thought he was. He’s been picking things up from Captain Muguruma, that’s for sure. Both of them are pricks. Cold, reserved, and uncaring. You could scream. You could leap forward and rip Shuhei to shreds. But instead, you glare and turn away, managing your pain for just long enough to walk to your room in the barracks, and slam the door. Someone will complain in the morning about the noise, but you don't care. You burn with fury. You lay in your bed, your anger getting the best of you for some time, until all you can do is think.
You fucked up, yet again. Every single time the burning pain from the tug in your heart gets too much, you lash out. It’s becoming the thing that is ruining your life, but only because you keep letting it. If only you could make it stop, but with what time? Finding one's soulmate took time, and time was something you didn’t have the luxury of. There were articles to edit, training to be done, rounds and commissions to complete. You couldn’t follow the tug of your heart without negativity following you as you returned. It was a cruel thing. Just like you and Shuhei have been to each other for some time now. It felt like another betrayal each time you and Shuhei butted heads. He seemed insistent on you not overworking yourself, while also sending you home whenever you showed a wince of pain. But you wanted to work. You wanted to keep doing what you loved in vain hopes the tug in your heart would lessen and finally be something you had to search for.
The night was long. Nights were always worse than the days. But you closed your eyes and ignored how the tugging in your heart, the tugging in your very soul, clogged your throat and made you choke on your own misery. Hatred pooled in your heart, but not for you soulmate. It made you sick.
“Someone’s in pain?” Kira blinked as Shuhei lamented. His close friend wasn’t doing well. Bags under his eyes, slouched shoulders, messier hair. It was like he’d been working overtime again. 
“And they won’t listen. All I do is tell them ‘take care of yourself. Go home and rest. Take your time’ and all they do is get angry!” Shuhei ranted. He took another swig of sake and glared at nothing. Kira was getting concerned. “If I ever meet their soulmate, I’m gonna use Kazeshini and slice ‘em up.” 
Kira was very uncomfortable with that notion, mainly because he’d be an accessory to murder if it happened, and whoever this person in pain was would have to live without the other half of their soul permanently. He had another sip of sake for himself, feeling sullen. He glanced at his friend again.
“How bad is it? Surely it can’t be that bad-”
“Now you even sound like them! Fucks sakes… throwing up because your tug is hurting that bad and still saying you can fight a hollow isn’t a good thing. I’m going to put them on leave just so they can find their stupid soulmate and so I can get a piece of ‘em and give them a piece of my mind… ugh.”
Kira ignored how Shuhei had interrupted him. He listened quietly, and thought about this person. They sounded strong, but tortured by pain they didn’t ask to have. He felt his own heart ache in solidarity. He wished his soulmate wasn’t in pain. Selfishly, Kira wished he could abandon everything just for a day so he could find his soulmate. Maybe then his hand would stop being his only comfort in the night hours. To finally hold them in his arms and be able to feel their skin against his as he kissed their forehead and apologized for taking so long. Shuhei had another long drink, and Kira saw this as an opportunity. He’d been feeling so restless lately, maybe a change of scenery would be a good thing.
“Why don’t I come in and help for a bit? I’m sure Captain Muguruma would understand, what with how chaotic Mashiro is, and all the work you’re putting in for the Communication…” He trailed off, anxious to hear what his friend would say. Shuhei was about to take another drink, then paused halfway. He lowered the bottle and stared at it, his expression forlorn.
“...maybe I’ll take ‘em to the printing room. That’ll raise their spirits. I’m just worried about ‘em… they’re still my friend, you know? Seeing them in pain, and hearing them accuse me of not liking them… it’s hard.” 
Kira had no idea what Shuhei was on about, but concluded it must be about the person he was ranting about before. Overall, he took it as an agreement. Kira had another sip of his own sake as Shuhei starts to bawl, the bartender looking at them oddly. Shuhei started saying a name, which seemed odd to Kira, but he concluded it as the person's name. Placing a hand over his heart as he begins to drink all of his sake, Kira hopes his soulmate is alright, and not suffering in pain like Shuhei’s other friend is. He shook his head as Shuhei howled in misery, and Lieutenant Iba had to restrain him.
You stared at the printing press. Your mind churned, trying to find the reason behind Shuhei's current niceness. It felt like a trap. You inspected every inch of it, making sure nothing was faulty. It had been a long time since Shuhei had let you in here, mainly because of your work not being up to standard because of your pain, but today was special it seemed. One of his Lieutenant friends had come in to save the day and help out, much to Captain Muguruma’s mixed chagrin and relief. A blonde boy, who reminded you a lot of water. Smooth, quiet, seemingly weightless. Something different to the fire that had burned in your blood. 
You caught Shuhei staring again and you frowned. Standing up straight, you walk over to him.
“You’re looking good, mostly. The text blocks need a little upgrading, though. The wood down the far end is looking a little shabby too. It might be time for a more modern upgrade, but other than that, everything is good. I’m surprised the platen is still going too…” You speak normally for the first time in weeks. It isn’t a complaint. It isn’t filled with suppressed rage. It isn’t said sarcastically. It’s a normal conversation. Shuhei nods and rubs the back of his neck.
“...It might be time for an upgrade, yeah…” He mutters. You can see the thoughts running through his head. For the first time in a while, you see Shuhei, and not Lieutenant Hisagi. You pause for a moment, just watching him.
You know what he’s thinking. You can see the flash of Tosen behind his eyes, thoughts of the man who was a good captain, but in reality a traitor to everything you loved. It was painful. You recalled a time when you sat with Tosen in the garden. You were new to the Soul Society then, a recently graduated Soul Reaper. You’d had a terrible day, and were sitting in the garden, trying to make sense of things. Tosen had come up to you and invited you to join him on a walk. You honestly thought he was going to berate you.
But the man had talked about nonsense for a solid hour. The weather. Ink cartridges. What wood felt best when you had to take a nap on a desk. The feeling of different winds depending on what direction they came from. Never did you think a blind man would be able to talk for so long about the things you either thought weren’t worthy of talking about, or the things you’d never thought of before. For a solid hour, he spoke, you sometimes asking questions. Before you knew it, your mood had improved. Tosen had somehow managed to make you feel better by utterly confusing you. 
It was something you didn’t forget. It’s the reason why you had lashed out so aggressively when he left, your soulmate's tug becoming the source of all your pain once you’d killed as many hollows as possible. A man who had stepped out of his comfort zone to comfort a young shinigami, became almost like a father to you, one of the three greatest traitors in history. It made you scream. It was like he’d thrown you into water to drown, and when you coughed up your lungs, you set things on fire, just to feel the warmth Tosen has once provided to you.
You and Shuhei stood in silence for so long, the air became thick. When he finally looked back at you, a flash of guilt crossed his face. He cleared his throat.
“A new printing press. It’s a good idea. We’d have more time to do other things and we’d be able to…” He trailed off. So you finished his sentence for him, a flicker of your flame reigniting in your chest, hot and furious.
“Move on from the past.”
You two locked eyes. His jaw set and your eyes blazed. For a moment, it seemed like you were both going to draw your zanpakuto and fight, just to feel something other than the rage that followed a betrayal of a man you both admired and respected. A man you both knew as your calm ocean.
Then the door burst open and that blond friend of his walked in. Your tug jumped, but you ignored it. You and Shuhei snapped out of it and turned to the blonde man, who walked in. “Apologies. I’m Lieutenant Kira.” He said to you. You nodded your head in response. He was just being polite. You introduced yourself as well, making sure to be polite. You dodn’t miss how his eyes widened slightly. You frowned a little. Shuhei must’ve ran his mouth again… speaking of Shuhei, he butted in.
“Kira, what’s happening? Is everything alright?” The black haired man asked, concerned. Kira shook his head.
“Captain Muguruma is about to dissect Lieutenant Mashiro. Half the Squad is holding him back.” 
You held back a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. Kira looked at you, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion for a moment before Shuhei started running out of the room.
“Stay here! That little-”
His voice faded as he ran, leaving you and Kira alone. The room was silent again, until you burst out into laughter.
The sound was beautiful to Kira. To him, it was like water falling over stones, so merry and carefree. To you, your laugh felt like a warm flame, not angry or harmful, but merry and calming. It felt like freedom. You kept on smiling even after you were done.
“One of these days, Captain Muguruma is going to kill Mashiro.” You said dryly, chuckling a little more at your own thought. “But only if Shuhei doesn’t get to her first.” Kira chuckled to himself.
“They’re like oil and water…” He said in a tone of false sorrow. He shook his head and then glanced at you. His heart was racing, and his tug felt painful for the first time. It was like time froze as Kira realized his tug was hurting. It felt like someone was ripping his heart out of his chest whenever he looked at you. He stepped away a little, not knowing what to do. 
You looked at Kira again, and for the first time in a long time, you felt light. Like all your burdens had been burned away until only the embers remained. Something you usually only felt in the dead of night, an emotion of calmness and serenity you’d dubbed the ‘midnight flame’. A soft, burning sensation that soothed rather than harmed. You saw something turning behind Kira’s eyes, and the tenseness of his neck.
You recalled how Shuhei had said Kira was a bit antisocial. You’d heard of him before Tosen and the others had betrayed the Soul Society. You hadn’t met, though, due to your own schedule and the fact that Shuhei needed to be babysat while drinking, which wasn’t your favourite thing to do. Out of respect for him, you collected yourself and stepped away a little as well, looking away. Your chest felt so light. For the first time in a long time, it’s like you’re able to breathe without feeling the heavy burden of your soulmates tug. You went to speak again, maybe to break the silence, when Kira fell to his knees.
You paused for a minute, wondering if you should laugh or not. You opted to crouch down where you are and looked at Kira.
“...are you alright?” He glanced at you, his eyes filled with tears. He quickly looked away, clenching his fists over his knees as he tried to focus on anything but the pain. The tug in his chest was too much, this blistering hurt that burns him. You reached out to him, but he exhaled sharply before you could touch him. Your brow creased, and your own tug began to hurt again. An endless cycle for you, one that you couldn’t escape. Your face hardened. ‘I’ll get Lieutenant Hisagi.” A simple decision. You stood quickly and walked out of the room, searching for Shuhei.
You followed the sounds of commotion to see Shuhei and Mashiro having an argument. You were about to step in to ask when he’ll be done, when an errant hand grabed you by the neck and marched you back inside.
“Stay out of it.”
If you had to describe Captain Muguruma, you would call him a blaze. He was a wild-looking man, with the strength of a hundred regular shinigami, and an outrageous sense of style that had inspired Shuhei to get tattoos on his face, of all places. He set you down inside and checked over his shoulder to see if Mashiro was dead yet. Finding the little green girl still alive, he looked back at you.
“Whatever it is, you come to me. I’m your Captain now, not Hisagi.” Muguruma spoke with an annoyed tone in his voice, as if this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with. You recalled every time he barked at you to speed up, or told you to go home and get over it. He was perhaps the worst person who could’ve caught you when you needed help. You swallowed and put on a smile.
“I was just looking to see if it had ended yet.”
“Well, it hasn’t, so get back inside. I heard he left you at the… printing thing.”
“...the printing press?”
“That. Whatever it is, just stay there.”
“We need a more modern one.” “Lieutenant Hisagi is in charge of that. He’ll come to me when he wants one and I’ll give him the funds.” “Well I want to talk to him about what options we have.”
“From what I hear, you’ve been banned from the Communication work until your pain isn’t such a hindrance.”
You fell silent. Muguruma stared down at you with his arms crossed, radiating pure annoyance. You weren’t going to be getting any help from anyone, it looked like. Without another word, you turned away, walking back to the printing room, and a distressed Kira. Your body burned with anger at Muguruma. He only became captain because there was nobody else to take the spot, and because the Soul Society had been desperate for experienced captains. Otherwise, he’d still be rotting in the mortal realm, living his pathetic life, probably getting more piercings. 
Muguruma watched you. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He was being truthful, wasn’t he? He knew you were hindered by something that could be sorted. Why didn’t you take your numerous enforced days off to find the cause of your issue and stop it? Why didn’t you thank him for at least noticing you weren’t doing okay? He looked down at the ground as he scowled. You’re probably just emotional and in pain again. He’d have to give you more space, leave you alone. Your anger was helping nobody. At least when he got angry he had time for it… 
You entered the printing room again, your eyes trained on Kira. He looked a little better. He met your gaze for a moment, and you sighed.
“Lieutenant Kira is busy with Lieutenant Mashiro.” You announced. You walked forward and held out your hand, a gesture that seemed fine for time being. “Let’s get you somewhere that doesn’t house a machine.”
When he took your hand, his face pale and his palm slightly sweaty, it was like a thousand midnight doves erupt from the touch alone.
Such a feeling of fullness filled you. A flurry of soft wings enveloping your entire being, a eruption of a waterfall inside your soul that quenched all anger and pain that led you to salvation. No longer did you crave, no longer did your tug pull at your very being. Water rushed into every part of your soul, filling it with such a lightness you could've sworn at the moment it felt like you were suspended in a great sea, but no risk of drowning was present. 
For Izuru, he felt warmth after the loss of such a crippling pain. Such a hearth bloomed inside him he knew that he would never feel cold during his lonely midnight again. A flame so enveloping inside his being, something so warm and right to fight for, he likened it to a Phoenix. Reborn from the ashes, no longer suffering under cool water. The water in his lung was burned away, and with it, his passion ignited. Such a small thing he felt, something he'd never felt before. Passion. What was it? The kindle burned in his chest, a fire that would never go out. He felt free.
The two of you stared at each other, before Izuru slowly stood, your hands still clasped together, your souls both finally free of searching, of tugging. He was mesmerised by you. You thought of everything you'd been through. 
Fire and water were opposites, and yet no matter which element your soul reflected now, you had to make your peace. 
“...I was in insurmountable pain for a very long time.” You said. A boldness ripped through you. Yet your next words- ”You should make it up to me.” -were stolen from your throat at Izuru, not quite understanding what he was doing in his new passionate delirium, pulled you forward and swept you into a tight hug. On instinct, you responded in kind.
All was silent for a few moments, before Izuru spoke again. His voice was shaky from his nervousness, but his newfound passion simmer underneath it all. He damned himself for being so shy, but this time, he was going to push himself to show you comfort. 
“Never again.” His throat was hoarse. Hands once used for worry and work found their new purpose grasping you close to him. “No more pain.”
No more pain. How you'd longed for that for so long. How you'd longed for midnight under the moon where you didn't feel as if you'd lose your soul to such agony within it. How you'd longed to take it out on him, to scream and yell for the pain he'd unwittingly caused. And yet. Such a cool flow of water filled you, such a rush of comfort from his words washed over you, so much so you couldn't be mad anymore. How could you? How could you be so angry at the person whose first words to you was “never again”?
Izuru finally felt a flash of discomfort from the sudden hug he initiated. He stepped back but slid his hands to your ribs. You suppressed the urge to jump. You had ticklish ribs. He looked into your eyes before looking away, so red in the face he could barely talk anymore. 
For a moment, all was still. Then, in a moment of weakness you'd never felt, a tender kind you wished to explore during softer, quieter midnights, you began to speak.
“...you're-”
With a bang, the door to the printing press room slammed open. 
“I'm sick and tired of leaving you be, and ignoring the pain of someone who's one of my best seated officers-” Muguruma was yelling, but stopped. You turned your head and scowled.
That insufferable prick. 
Your souls, two lost souls now joined in what would blossom into such a pure love ordained by the universe itself, were still fire and water. You two balanced each other. As Izuru found out less than ten seconds later, after you gently pulled away from him, you would need plenty of water to cool down after you had a shouting match with Captain Muguruma. It was such a sight to see that even Shuhei and Mashiro stopped fighting to come and investigate the source of your yelling. To be fair, nobody had ever seen you explode like this. Shuhei and Izuru locked eyes, and as Izuru dissolved into embarrassment, wishing he could hide away, Shuhei felt himself grinning for his friend. 
It did nag in the back of Shuhei's mind on how on earth shy, quiet, water-like Kira was soulmates with the embodiment of sheer rage and hellfire. 
“Opposites attract,” He murmured to himself. Mashiro giggled.
“Maybe Captain Muguruma is soulmates with me if that's the case.” 
“...you're out of you goddamn mind if you think-”
Two fights broke out in the printing press room, both of which Izuru wanted to run and hide from. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off of your form, how you gestured as you and Muguruma argued loudly. He wondered if he should get you a glass of water for your throat. You were certainly yelling loud enough…
Then you drew your sword just as Muguruma did and he decided to leave it be for now. 
At the very least, Izuru could provide you with water during the midnights you would steal in the future, soft kisses that were stolen in the dark, and gentle sighs turned into moans when he finally felt such a flame burn away his gentle water in his soul. Seeing you spent and satisfied brought him more satisfaction and joy than anything else. Afterwards, he always brought you a big glass.
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murfpersonalblog · 9 months
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Loumand's Timeskip - "Dubai Is A Child"
This thought literally just woke me up at 4 in the frikkin morning cuz who needs SLEEP, but WHEN did Loumand move to Dubai?
I had a dream that I was still responding to this Loumand bed death post @vividxp made, thinking about this show's altered timeline; how Loumand was obviously happy/happier from the 40s-70s; and how the show will handle not only Louis' increasing descent into depression, but Armand's depression as well--which culminated in Armand finally breaking up with Louis for good in the books, pre-QoTD, ToTBT, Memnoch & Merrick, etc.
"....When I looked into Louis's tortured face...I knew that this black-clad dark-haired gentleman...was the alluring embodiment of the misery I felt. He mourned the loss of grace of one human lifetime. I mourned the loss of the grace of centuries.... I fell in love with him hopelessly, and leaving the Theatre des Vampires in ruins (he burnt it to the ground in a rage for a very good reason), I wandered the world with him until very late in this modern age. Time eventually destroyed our love for one another. Time withered our gentle intimacy. Time devoured whatever conversation or pleasures we once agreeably shared. One other horrible inescapable and unforgettable ingredient went into our destruction. Ah, I don't want to speak of it, but who among us is going to let me be silent on the matter of Claudia, the child vampire whom I am accused for all time by all of having destroyed?" -- Armand, TVA
What went wrong between the time we see Louis in SanFran, and the time we see him in Dubai? WHY did they move to Dubai, and WHEN?
"Time eventually destroyed our love for one another. "
The Ep6 flashback to 1970s SanFran has always jarred me, cuz Louis looks so dang vibrant here--flirty and joking and talkative in ways we don't really EVER see--"I HAve An ACceNT!?" 🤪
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(One of my FAVORITE Louis moments--Pyromaniac Du Lac is a frikkin DRAGON, y'all. 🐲🔥🐉😍)
Then we cut to 2022 Dubai, and it's Hello Darkness, My Old Friend?
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Did Louis start spiraling the night of Daniel's OG 70's interview? Maybe? Louis was definitely angry, that he hadn't adequately convinced Daniel that vampirism was a horror, not something Daniel should be begging for like a simp--"You were disrespectful!"
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Unlike in the film, Louis actually bit Daniel on the show, and woulda killed/drained him if Armand hadn't intervened; "this time I won't save your life." They (read: Armand) wiped his memory, took the tapes & ran--presumably to Dubai? But why THERE? Pretty drastic change of scenery--it's not like Dan would've remembered enough to call the cops on them, forcing Loumand to duck the CIA or something. Louis was killing humans alllll the way up to 2000--attacking Daniel didn't stop him--he kept going for 30 years! Then in 2000 he suddenly stops? So it wasn't SanFran or Daniel that triggered Louis after the 70s and made them flee to Dubai, it was something else.
Also, for all their claims of wanting "privacy/anonymity," they definitely weren't HIDING in Dubai, not with their ostentatious lifestyle--using the Prime Minister's own illustrious Dr Fareed just to give Daniel meds--"you've got your own hangar at the airport, privileges on the Royal Meydan Bridge, and zero presence online. I know the Emirates are big on privacy, and that's probably important to you, but I gotta ask, what does it cost?..."
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But it's certainly interesting that RJ chose Dubai as their modern home, since it only started being developed into a modern super-city of the UAE in the 1970s--right when Armand & Louis might've fled SanFran to live there. It certainly tracks with the real estate investments Armand made on Night Island in the 80s. Like Armand said: "Dubai is a child," and it's a HUNGRY, VAMPIRIC child at that, cuz the economy & real estate markets in Dubai literally SUCK.
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But it took TIME for Dubai to become that glitzy nighttime city so attractive to vampires. If we consider all the iconic skyscrapers and Palm Islands and structures shown off in the pilot episode, ALL of those landmarks weren't constructed until the late 1990s-early 2000s. And remember what else happened in the 2000s?
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Then there's the penthouse. According to Daniel, they're in the Al Sharaf Towers in Dubai--but unless Google's lying to me, there are no Al Sharaf Towers in Dubai. (And @eosphoroz did some pretty nifty super sleuthing about Armand's prayer location, too.)
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In the original pilot script, the penthouse was actually in the JLT's Al Seef Towers, which actually DOES exist in Dubai, built in 2008--infamous for the FIRES started in the 20teens that made the JLT's buildings uninhabitable for almost a decade of repairs. 👀🔥
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I wanna know why RJ changed the location/name of the tower!! 😭(This post gives a strong argument for why the April 2020 to June 2022 date was changed.) But it makes a lot of sense if they want to remove the penthouse from the temporo-spatial realities of Dubai, this liminal zone cocooning the vampires from the outside world by living in a fanciful Tower From Nowhere. But that's boring, since this show's paid so much attention to detail, and many other places they name-dropped really exist, like Polynesian Mary's. So I'm gonna just go with the penthouse being in a REAL building. Meaning:
after 1973 IMO Loumand was probably not in Dubai yet, and were likely still city-hopping. Daniel said the SanFran apartment they lived in was "a dump;" which tracks with book!Armand not being rich yet--they were both living like bums after Paris. (IWTV OG 70s interview)
~1985-1990s book!Armand took up treasure hunting, art theft, & real estate. Built Night Island in Florida, but soon abandoned it. (QoTD Devil's Minion era)
~1995 book!Armand attempts suicide after seeing Veronica's Veil (Memnoch/TVA era, meets Benji & Sybelle, lives in NOLA while Lestat's comatose).
~1999 book!Louis attempts suicide after his ghost!Claudia seance (Merrick era, but I highly doubt AMC is post-Merrick, cuz Louis burnt too easily in the sunlight to have gotten his vamp upgrade yet).
in 2000 Louis stopped killing humans again (WHY? And how well did he adapt to that diet with Armand, rather than Lestat? We saw how much Louis struggled to keep his energy up in the 1910s: "I tried to adapt to my new diet. I barely had the energy to hold up a book. My libido was not what it had been.") How long was it till they started keeping blood bags, hiring Damek & co., keeping Louis' favorite AB- "fresh from The Farm"?
How would 9/11 in 2001 affect Muslim!Armand? In the PL trilogy he owned Trinity Gate in NYC during the 20teens (briefly reunited with Louis before Louis left him to marry Lestat in RoA/BC). Trinity Gate was in Manhattan, where the Twin Towers fell. What kind of depression/existential crises does AMC's Armand face with American Islamophobia? Is THAT why they moved to Dubai? Finding a home that was safe for them BOTH in a post-9/11 world?
after 2008 Loumand moved into the (Al Seef/Sharaf) penthouse, even if they stayed elsewhere (in Dubai?) since the 70s. Did they hire that team of staff specifically to maintain the penthouse, or to help keep up the Rashid illusion only when Daniel arrived? (This was also likely when they started keeping The Farm, somewhere in the penthouse/tower presumably for on-demand drinks.)
The 1990s SUCKED for both Armand AND Louis, both driven to suicide during the events surrounding Lestat's coma. So I actually doubt it was the 1970s that broke Louis, but rather 2000 when he stopped killing--the turn of the millennia/century, which probably heavily impacted Louis' psyche, as the existential dread of living to 100+ badly affected his outlook on vampiric "life."
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So I wouldn't be surprised if AMC's Loumand lived in NYC (a la Trinity Gate) after SanFran, and left America AFTER 9/11. Thus contextualizing Muslim!Armand's race & religiosity with real world events, the same way they did with Louis and the IRL race riots in Storyville. I could ofc be dead wrong, and S2 could confirm that they've been living in Dubai since the 70s this whole time.
But regardless, Dubai was obviously NEVER a healthy environment for either of them, especially not Louis--that dead, cold, dry desert wasteland of concrete minimalism & hypocritical elite extravagance. When Daniel asked Louis where his coffin was, Louis said "you're standing in it."
"Why did he come away with me afterwards?.... He remained with me because he had to do it. It was the only way that he could go on existing, and for death he has never had the courage, and never will. And so he endured after the loss of Claudia, just as I had endured through...centuries...but in time he did learn to be alone. Louis, my companion, dried up of his own free will, rather like a beautiful rose skillfully dehydrated in sand so that it retains its proportions, nay, even its fragrance and even its tint. For all the blood he drank, he himself became dry, heartless, a stranger to himself and to me. Understanding all too well the limits of my warped spirit, he forgot me long before he dismissed me, but I too had learnt from him.... I too went on alone--perhaps for the first time really and truly alone. But how long can any of us endure without another?.... We can't stand it, to be alone." -- Armand, TVA
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Loumand's entire time in Dubai was built up on artifice--their relationship was withering on the vine, as Louis AND Armand were already spiraling by the time Daniel showed up. That's why Louis was so desperate to do the interview in the first place--"truth and reconciliation;" "you are chronicling a suicide!" (This is leading up to Merrick ISTG y'all....)
"It was the love of Louis which had at times crippled Lestat, and enslaved Armand. Louis need have no consciousness of his own beauty, of his own obvious and natural charm." -- David, Merrick.
Eff you, David, but YES, actually.
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Cuz JESUS, this was the performance of the century, the Theatre would be proud--what were they even DOING with "Rashid"? That whole Penthouse was their stage--it's all FAKE--which is why I'm not buying Armand's explanation for "The Groan," either.
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-- Rolin Jones
Daniel just forced Loumand to face bitter reality, that neither one of them wanted to admit about their pasts, present, or future.
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But please understand, y'all, I'm NOT tryna be a mean-spirited Loumand "Bed Death Truther," claiming Louis & Armand are just perpetually platonic & miserable roommates. I DO think they were happy briefly--(in the books moreso in NYC at the Trinity Gate reunion than anything that happened pre-Merrick, while they were BOTH on the verge of suicide). They're BOTH walking around with untreated trauma, and their relationship was built on a stack of lies (thanks to Armand's culpability in Claudia's death).
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So I smh at Loumand same as I smh at Loustat, cuz BOTH relationships were a frikkin WRECK--Daniel's right that the only relationship Louis needs is with a therapist! U_U
"Loustat suffered 7yrs of bed death & they're a literal pack of horndogs for e/o. 😅 Louis' depression (& diet) directly effect his libido. In the books Armand walked away once he realized he couldn't help Louis anymore. AMC's timeline's likely going in that direction. No way are Loumand by Ep7 & the S2 trailer the picture of a healthy thriving couple--they could be humping like rabbits and still be unhappy together. :( Like, I fully expect to see Loumand have a bubble of happiness together in S2--turning to him for comfort in 40s Paris. And we already saw them in SanFran cruising for thirds quite comfortably in the 70s. But something bad obviously happened to Louis by the time they got to Dubai--he is UNWELL, and this interview is unlocking way too many doors Armand obviously wants Daniel/Louis to keep closed. So even if it's not bed death YET, it's GONNA die--hence: Merrick." --Me.
Like, I'm lukewarm towards Loumand (at worst apathetic), cuz I know it doesn't LAST; and I know Louis was only with Armand out of necessity, cuz the books said so. I'm waiting on S2 to convince me otherwise.
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modestvm · 6 months
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PENNY, 24, GMT; SHE/HER. | if you’re hearing VIENNA by BILLY JOEL playing, you have to know GABRIEL MOORE (HE/HIM; CIS MAN) is near by! the THIRTY-FOUR year old HISTORY PROFESSOR has been in denver for, like, THREE YEARS. they’re known to be quite OBSTINATE, but being ALLOCENTRIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble JACOB ANDERSON. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those WANDERING EMPTY MUSEUMS, THE GLOW FROM A LAPTOP SCREEN and ROLLED-UP SHIRT SLEEVES AND V-NECK JUMPERS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough! 
full name: gabriel isaac moore. nicknames: gabe, abe. gender and pronouns: cis man, he/him. age: thirty-four. sexuality: bisexual. date of birth: july 15th. zodiac sign: cancer ( loyal, creative, sensitive, insecure. ) place of birth:  bristol, england. occupation: assistant professor of history, university of denver.
born and raised in bristol, the youngest of three with two older sisters. as a diplomatic service officer their father was away more often than not, so gabe was raised by his mother and sisters.
his interest in writing, reading and history was a curveball. aside from his father, the rest of the family's interests were firmly rooted in stem. they were ( perhaps justifiably ) worried that gabriel's interests would not give him much success in life. but he was determined to pursue his passion and after graduating top of his class at bristol uni for undergrad, went on to get his master's and phd in history at st andrew's.
moved to london after graduation wondering what to do with himself and fell into teaching. completed his teaching qual and sought out a role teaching history whilst continuing to research and publish occasionally on the side to keep up with developments in the academic world.
( tw: car accident, injury, depression & ptsd ) was cycling to work as per usual one day when he was hit by a drunk driver at a crossing. he woke up just short of a week later to a shock. gabe had been lucky, really. at least, that's what everyone said -- at the time he couldn't only think that was a cruel thing to say. his right leg had been amputated, originally below the knee but complications did not go his way and so shortly after he became an above knee amputee. otherwise, he was pretty much unscathed - scars here and there the only thing to show of his ordeal now.
slightly reeling and with nothing to really do during his recovery, gabriel turned back to the work he loved. this was something of a relief to friends and family as, not unexpectedly, gabe was diagnosed with ptsd and depression immediately following the accident and suffered during much of his recovery. by no means have either of those things become a non-issue in his life, but they have dissipated and significantly and well, when all else fails… there’s always throwing yourself into work or looking after someone else. he wrote a monograph, a social history of black africans in renaissance england that was eventually published just under five years ago now.
riding on the back of the book's success, a desire to return to academia and for a change of scenery he began applying for jobs. the offer from the university of denver came through and he took it and uprooted to denver. this was where his family’s relief was dampened; they thought it was a rash decision ( they weren’t wrong, but gabe was never one to change his mind once it was set and they knew it ) 
gabe has been in denver for three years now, comfortable in his position at the university but also keen to engage with as many people as possible. he runs a sort of 'history 101' evening class at the community college for anyone to attend.
wanted connections page ! gimme literally everything pls.
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biganimal92 · 2 months
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so we went to the dealership to see what the trade-in value for the honda was and it ended up being just enough for us to justify getting this prius we were looking at because it was at a good price and we'd been talking about wanting to get a new car anyway (specifically a prius) for a number of reasons. and i was excited to start driving it because it's a pretty modern car and it has tinted windows and basically i feel fancy in it even though it's from 2016 and it has 160k miles on it so we went on an afternoon road trip along the kitsap peninsula and we got to see cool views of the mountains and we stopped at a cidery and it felt like i was a wealthy englishperson spending an afternoon in the quaint countryside or perhaps a bitch in mondstadt going to go fuck around with diluc (only real genshinheads will get this sick reference)
and during the car ride my girlfriend brought up an article she was reading about this annoying fuckhead who was talking about how chicago (his hometown) is better than seattle for really immature and personal reasons and not because of anything objective, and no the person who wrote this article wasn't patrick stump it was some other dickhead. he was talking about how he hates scenery and seeing the mountains because they're too hard to physically get to because you have to plan a big weekend-long trip and having kids makes that complicated. and how chicago is better because the forests are easier to get to and he knows the names of all the local birds and flora but in seattle it's all just second-growth douglas fir. and like do you see what i mean about this article just sounding childish
anyway i'm not #blogging about this one idiot just to rag on him but the point that i made to girlfriend is that he sounded very much like he was miserable living in seattle for a number of factors but instead of recognizing that they were internal, he blamed the environment he was in instead of trying to accept that it was a big change from what he was used to and trying to change along with it. or trying to put forth the effort to be able to go out and see the mountains because we are literally like 2 hours away from both the cascades to the east and the olympics to the west and it's really not hard to get to either of them at all. there are plenty of local birds that aren't just crows or seagulls or pigeons, either, and there's LITERALLY AN ARBORETUM IN THE CITY THAT'S NOT DIFFICULT TO GET TO!!!!! there is SO MUCH nature that's accessible and diverse but the thing is that you have to PUT FORTH THE EFFORT to be able to see it
and i had this realization to myself while i was expressing this to my girlfriend that when you're miserable, it's so so easy to give into the cynical thinking your brain wants to spiral in. "it's not that i'm frustrated by the limitations of my job or my family, it's because those silly mountains are taunting me!" "it's not that i'm refusing to put forth the effort to adapt to my new environment, it's that this current environment is boring and uninteresting compared to what i'm used to!" and i have a huge headache right now so i won't go into the specifics of it but i was thinking about how this impacts My thinking and how I'm a victim of this cynicism
like it boiled down to there being meaning and history and purpose and life through anything if you're just willing to put forth the effort to find it and i think part of why i'm as depressed as i am is because i feel like capitalism removes humanity from people and that's why you get people saying "mountains are stupid because it's not easy for me to get to them"
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viridiave · 1 year
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Octopath but make it Pokemon - Part 2 Electric boogaloo
special thanks to @musical-mastermind for the suggestions in the comments - I had no idea what to do for Theri and H’aanit lmao
>>>
So the gang make it out of Cobbleston after saying goodbye to Olberic's definitely-not-son Philip and end up stopping over in Sunshade, and nobody has a good time, because it's Sunshade Olberic's dad mode activated as soon as he saw seedy characters so he sticks next to Tressa and Kit the entire way While everyone else is looking around the trio spot a dancer from the tavern looking very much like she wants to murder someone cuz she's just muttering by herself suspiciously by a brazier like jesus Prim at least hide yourself a lil' better Olberic being the concerned citizen that he is asks about her situation and then the backstory cutscene happens He ends up covering Tressa and Kit's ears for half of it But the trio do offer to help Primrose look for the bastard crow so off to the Catacombs they go They come out the other side and oh SHIT Helginish has Primrose's best friend hostage And that's how Tressa and Kit witness their first murder. Olberic couldn't really cover their eyes for that one. This is also how Tressa and Kit become complicit IN murder for the first time, because really who the hell could blame Primrose THAT GUY WAS A B AS T A RD- It also turns out that the tavern Primrose works for doubles as a very rundown gym no one wants to challenge, so one extremely depressing burial for Yusufa later she shuffles through Helginish's pockets for the map and the gym badge and tosses it towards Kit Before she could stalk off on her own though they offer to let her travel with them, and she just sighs before challenging Kit to see if they're really up for it It being murder After a VERY grueling battle with Yusufa's Stenee and her million dancing moves as well as Prim's own stubborn as hell Azelhart-sanctioned Sand Rush Pupitar Kit finally wins and Primrose agrees to travel with them They had an EXTREMELY hard time trying to explain to Cyrus and Ophilia where all the blood and Kit's and Tressa's newfound trauma came from '…say, I hear Clearbrook has great fish cuisine-' 'sounds great let's go-' So they book it to Clearbrook and the change in scenery give Kit and Tressa much needed stress relief which may or may not have involved a water fight They suddenly notice that this one blonde guy looks like he's thinking really hard about something so Kit and Cyrus ask about it and to their collective relief they don't need to murder anyone Nobody tell them about Chapter 3 So they help out this Alfyn guy while Ophilia helps Tressa recuperate with fish cakes and church-sanctioned therapy back in the village They shive a snake, get the poison, and book it back to Alfyn's best friend's little sister, and everyone is a-okay They have a party in the tavern afterwards to celebrate this and when Kit steps out to get some air he accidentally walks in on what's probably the single most homoerotic exchange he's seen in his life when he finds Alfyn and Zeph on the bridge He REALLY couldn't look Alfyn in the eye when the apothecary challenged him the next morning for one last battle as the gym leader of Clearbrook so he can pass it on to Zeph It was hard to feel apologetic when Alfyn's Breloom kept using status moves And so did the rest of his Pokemon- One extremely grueling battle later they now have a very jolly doctor and it's off to Bolderfall they go To everyone's surprise Kit is actually very familiar with the place, so they're pretty comfortable letting him go off on his own Where he then meets a shady-looking gremlin at the foot of the stairway to Ravus manor, and when he asks him what he's doing he just tells him straight-up that he's about to raid it for treasure Kit's better judgment REALLY should have kicked in at that moment when there's literally guards outside But neither he and the thief really know how they both ended up helping each other walk around the mansion, and neither of them are about to start questioning this odd partnership Neither of them were gonna last very long without getting caught either so they face off against a somewhat familiar butler guy named Heathcote Who then proceeded to give Therion the most mcGuffin bangle to ever bangle, that Therion's extremely crafty Ninetales somehow can't burn its way through Now they're about to walk out of Bolderfall but everyone else catches them in the act when they went to see the sights and Tressa is immediately not cool with the thief 'Sorry, who's this... Sassy lost child?' 'My name is Tressa and I'll kick your ass in the name of commerce' They don't end up battling but Kit and Therion definitely do when Therion flashes the badge on them It turned out that Therion somehow has access to things like Choice Scarves and Life Orbs and Kit couldn't focus what with Tressa calculating the cost of each item in real time Therion is also not above Serene Grace Togekiss hacks, nor is he above Prankster Whimsicott strats Kit does eventually win this fight though and they go their separate ways Or so they think, because the group has since caught Therion trailing behind them on their way to S'waarki Where apparently some monster's been running around rampant and they meet a hunter lady who could only be halfway understood by both Olberic and Cyrus because what is Old English Scotty, for 500 Naturally they offer to help her out So they trek it into the forest where they find the monster that is DECIDEDLY not a Pokemon, what the ever-loving FUCK is that thing - a Ghisharma?? Sounds fake man get me outta here- They manage to kick its ass of course But nobody wants to talk about what the fuck it was they just fought, except H'aanit who is worringly used to dealing with random Eldritch horrors She offers Kit a gym battle when they get back, so they do that - and gods above H'aanit is a MERCILESS huntress who regularly employs trap strats Her Liepard is a feral thing that's very fond of using Pursuit They also learn that H'aanit uses Pokemon in the area and Kit was unfortunately horrible at dealing with Raticates that employ FEAR tactics He still wins of course but as soon as he gets his badge a Lycanroc pops out from the shadows H'aanit suspects that her master is in trouble, so she asks to tag along Naturally the group agrees, and hooray - they're a hella SIZABLE group >>> Tl;dr Primrose uses Dance and Weather Pokemon strats, Alfyn is a status condition abuser, Therion hacked the game ahead of time and got himself nifty meta competitive items, and H'aanit is a trapper who IS the meta idk how to continue this uhhhh I guess The Obsidians are the evil team and Mattias and Simeon are the Admins-
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mandalora · 2 years
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Feeling some kind of way after the first two kenobi episodes and putting out a list of things I loved and general observations because I forever cry over Hayden and Ewan not getting their proper recognition at the time of the prequels so I want to do my part in spreADING POSITIVITY FOR ONCE
SPOILERS:
The opening order 66 scene was harrowing, thank you. The choreography there was so good. I wanted that jedi to be my mom. Rip jedi mom
Obi-wan is absolutely miserable on his sad meat conveyor belt and I couldn’t have asked for anything else
I would die for the eopie
Obi-wan lives in a fucking cave. What a miserable dude I’m crying I love him I’m so depressed
The special effects on his little porridge thing reminded me of the inflatable bread from TFA and that’s always a win. We should all be more like the inflatable bread from TFA
Obi-wan having literal prequel flashback dreams tO THIS DAY, TEN YEARS LATER,
SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
I swear to god if we don’t see him communing with Qui-gon I’ll riot
Obi-wan leaving presents and treats for Luke is so fucking precious and Owen bringing it back is the sheerest of pain
“I KiLL vErMin oN My FaRm”
Ah finally some dismemberment
LEIA. BABY LEIA. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS
it’s been so long since we’ve seen live action scenery that isn’t sand dunes and seedy limestone towns; Alderaan is such a breath of fresh air, I’m so happy to see it
Special mention to Breha and Bail for being fabulous and beautiful. And of course Bail is the real mvp dad
Obi-wan refusing to go after Leia for so long is just [clenches fist] so frustrating and so good and so pain. What a sad man
Lola better get fucking fixed or I’ll fuckebwnebekrjrkdkfk
Obi-wan keeping both his and Anakin’s lightsabers in a neat little box side by side.
Obi-wan giving credits to the old clone despite how much it probably hurts.
The girl selling drugs made me sad
The Jedi scam artist is honestly such a good concept and gives me mad KotOR vibes for some reason. Also - Kumail Nanjiani?! [beyonce?????.jpg] And Obi-wan being Done all throughout their conversation is so good
The gosh darn meth lab…………… ben broke bad
One thing star wars never fails to deliver on is beating obi-wan up
LEIA WHACKING HIM WITH A CHAIR…………
“Your father sent me” “WHERE’S THE ARMY”
“You’re kinda old and beat up” girl that’s the whole point
Leia is amazing and so is her and Obi-wan’s banter
Always good to see infighting between imps :’)
The new inquisitor lady that the grand inq brought on to replace the third sister is gorgeous and I would like more of her, thank you
“[Lola]’s hurt” “GOOD.” Obi pls
That’s so in character though it’s hilarious. The fact that he visibly feels bad immediately after saying it but doesn’t apologize and just changes the subject asjskskfkfjf
“Inquisiting people”
Obi-wan having to strain to use the Force…..he really hasn’t used it in years……he really felt That Shitty for it to have gotten so far out of reach…………….I am in pain
I was starting to get the impression that the Grand Inquisitor doesn’t want them to catch Obi-wan for a reason, but then he went and got run through. Either he somehow gets back up later, or this isn’t the same guy from Rebels after all 🤔
The ten- or twenty-odd-second close up on Ewan’s face when the sister says Anakin is alive. The micro expressions. The subtlest of changes between said micro expressions. The sheer trauma in his eyes. Jesus
Him trying to get his shit together later on the train and absolutely f a i l i n g
A n a k i n
The entirety of this was pure agony and I couldn’t be more grateful
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mjjune · 1 year
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frontal, Occipital, mid brain & medulla for helio & danny?
I knew you were gonna ask for medulla xD
Frontal lobe (executive function) - What is their defining personality trait? What is the trait that, if lost, this OC would become unrecognizable?
Helio - There are a lot of parts of Helio that I think would make him become unrecognizable if he lost them. His compassion, his insecurity, his constant suffering lmao. Mostly, I would say his kind nature and empathy, which leads to his compassion, and in some ways his insecurity (which then leads to suffering) as well. Danny - I'm not sure how to explain this exactly, but there is this thing in his core that just.. drives him. It is this deep, deep love for humanity and all things that humans have done and all the things he has seen over time: change, exploration, discovery, war, innovation, languages, love. No matter what has happened in his life or how he has suffered, this is what he comes back to, and why he keeps living.
Occipital Lobe (vision) - What do they consider the most beautiful thing to look at? (e.g. colors, scenery, a person)
Helio - Danny LOL jk. Idk if he has a favorite necessarily, but he loves stargazing (I actually had a stargazing scene that got deleted). Really I would say in terms of beauty he probably would say the people he loves: his sister, his abuela, etc. Danny - Danny finds beauty in literally everything, so this is hard to pin down. He thinks all humans, all species, all animals and nature, are beautiful. Red and black are his favorite colors, just because of vampire stereotypes that he loves to play with.
Midbrain (pain signals) - What is the most physically painful thing they have ever experienced?
Helio - Since you're reading the book I can't tell you!! You shall find out in Ch 7 👀 Danny - Sorry but this is classified information 😘 Not revealed until book 2
Medulla Oblongata (heart, breathing, unconscious functions) - Who or what is their lifeline?
Helio - in general, I would say his family. Who is family are changes depending on where he is in his life. As a kid it would be his parents, siblings and pack. During book 1, it would be more of just his sister, for he fears rejections from his pack and parents and his best friend betrays him. As the book progresses I think Danny starts to move into his category as well, but it's too soon to tell. Danny - It can't be a person who is his lifeline, because everyone dies except him. To refer back to the frontal lobe question, I would say its his love of humanity: learning, growth, change, exploration, love. This trait is what allows him to be a successful immortal, where so many other vampires have succumbed to depression or death. It is quite literally the reason he is still alive. He wants to be.
BRAIN ASK GAME HERE!
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nature-nerd-sarah · 1 year
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Probably the most overlooked mental health advice out there is the benefits of going outside every day.
A while back, I started forcing myself to go outside on days when I only had to work from home. When I have a very busy day, I just take a quick 10-minute walk around the block, on less busy days I spend around 30 minutes walking around a nearby park. I don't know if it's the fresh air, the exercise, or literally just the change of scenery, but the effects on my mental health have been great. It didn't cure my depression or anything, but I feel a lot more grounded and stable, and have been able to get a lot more things done every day.
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