I Made Myself Sad - Blog Posts
Idk what to put here, i just came up with last night half-asleep, did i cook?
pls rate 1-10, i’d love to hear how you think about it! :)
(i spent all day on this :,))
I love the hc that giran was somewhat around tomura growing up. Idk I just imagine him as that one shitty uncle no one really wants to mention.
Giran: Oh… you’re still here?
Tomura (15 years old): huh?? I live here… I’ve been living here for the past ten years.
Giran: you have?
Tomura: you literally gave me a pack of cigarettes for my seventh birthday.
🌙 ⭐ 🌙 ⭐ 🌙
Como me apena verte llorar
Toma mi mano, siéntela
Yo te protejo de cualquier cosa
No llores más, aquí estoy
En mi corazón vivirás (you'll be in my heart) - Tarzan
creds to @epiimetheux !!!
i kept coming back to this beautiful artwork and i got inspired by it so here you go...
(disclaimer: i haven't completed a fic in forever, let alone published one, so i'm very anxious about this, i apologise if it's a mess •~•♡ love you guys)
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tom watches from the side as his husband steps forward to his coffin. pete's head is bowed, but he can see the trembling of his lips and the coiled muscles in his jaw.
oh my love.
what i'd give to embrace you one more time.
he knew he couldn't reach his husband anymore. his time had passed.
that didn't keep tom from standing next to pete's side. keeping watch. protecting his wingman, as they'd promised to each other years ago on that fateful day.
when repressed feelings and pretentious rivalry finally made way for the unconditional love thay had never wavered once.
partnership that had lasted 33 years.
tom watched as pete took the wings off his uniform, laying them onto the smooth oak.
the gun salutes were no more than background noise, tom's sole focus lying on the man in front of him.
the moment he saw pete punching the wings into the coffin he felt an incredible warmth spread through his chest.
such a feeling had been limited to very few moments in his life.
in the cockpit of his plane, soaring above the clouds with ron at his back and pete right by his side.
the return from the layton mission.
aching and sweaty and all kinds of shaken up but alive, thriving on adrenaline and pent up energy.
they had only seen each other then.
not iceman and maverick, but tom and pete, right there on the deck, what ron had later jokingly called their "confession".
their wedding. finally being allowed to slip a ring onto pete's finger while surrounded by all their loved ones. to call him his husband for everyone to see and hear without having to fear anymore. forever and always - the ending of both of their vows.
when their son had come back to them.
pete, bradley and himself crying with relief in their kitchen as they embraced for the first time in years. pete almost losing it as bradley started called him 'dad' again, and tom almost following suit when 'pops' returned back to daily use.
in that hospital bed, when he'd kissed his husband for the last time. he had wiped the tears on pete's cheeks with trembling hands, mapping that gorgeous face he knew better than the back of his own hand.
hushed i love you's in the quiet of the room, both signed and said out loud as they held each other.
the last words he felt pressed against his forehead being 'forever and always', before he slipped away into neverland.
tom looked over his shoulder just as pete stepped back from the coffin.
the wings on his back were strikingly white. glossy and strong feathers fluttered softly in the wind, and tom couldn't help the smile that spread on his face.
i will protect you, my heart.
my wingman.
my everything.
carefully he guided his wings around pete's sides. shielding him for just a moment. providing the endless support he couldn't give in person anymore.
pete looked up towards the sky, just like the rest of the crowd, watching as the missing man formation flew by.
everyone watched the sky, but tom couldn't tear his eyes away from his husband. how the dusking sun reflected in those tender green eyes. the curve of his nose, and the sweet lips he'd kissed so very often, now being worried at between pearly teeth.
i love you, forever and always.
as if he heard him, pete echoed his words.
"forever and always, sweetheart."
TW for suicide
So I know that about everyone assumes that Ben died because The Horror ripped him apart. And while that I a completely valid assumption and tbh most likely what happened I’m just going to put out my own Head Cannon before season 2 comes out and we have a chance of finding out the truth.
We know that Ben’s power was a horrible one. We know that he hated it. He hated the killing and the tentacles sprouting from his chest and the dimension in his stomach and being covered with blood and body parts as actual human beings get ripped up in front of him. He hated it. We also know that Klaus sees Ghosts as they died. What they were wearing, how old they were, every injury they have. So consider:
If Ben was ripped apart by The Horror on a mission or in training...where was his uniform? where were his injuries? He is wearing a hoodie and a leather jacket and jean. We all know Reginald would have never allowed that during training or on a mission. And why is his body not ripped to shreds or at least full of lacerations and blood.
I propose an alternate theory. What if he killed himself? Its not too far a stretch really. Steal a handgun from ol’ Reggies office, wear normal clothes bc its free time or bc you know what you’re planning and judging by Klaus’ powers don’t want to be stuck in the uniform for eternity. It would be worth the risk for Ben. No more killing. I think he shot himself through the roof of his mouth and back of his skull. We almost always see him with his hood up or only from the front. The few shots we do get of the back of his skull are fleeting or its dark. At that stage of his life Ben would have probably done anything to get rid of The Horror. Why not that?
Pink Gauze & Glitter Glue
In season 2 I want them to reappear as kids.
I want them to get up and for Ben to be alive. I want Ben to be angry at everyone because of how they treated Klaus, and shrug off everyone's hugs and greetings. Smiling and nodding towards Vanya and Diego as Klaus is clinging onto him like hes his only lifeline (he might as well be).
I want Klaus to step back.
I want him to instinctively reach for dog tags that should be around his neck, a habit developed over 10 long months for whenever he felt anything remotely negative.
I want him to feel nothing and look down in panic as his siblings have a stare off in the background. Allison and Luther pushing Ben for answers on why hes so cold.
I want Ben to turn towards Klaus and I want to see the exact moment Ben realizes something is wrong.
I want Klaus to start hyperventilating as his world zeros in on the fact that they're in the past, that his clothes didn't transfer through time travel, that hes stuck in his old academy uniform and that he's missing Dave's dog tags.
Hes missing Dave's dog tags.
He's missing Dave's dog tags.
They're gone.
They didn’t transfer through time travel.
I want Klaus to realize. I want Ben to realize.
And then.
I want.
To see him...
break.
Klaus has gone through so much and I want him to sob, I want him to claw at his chest and release blood curdling screams of emotional agony as his last connection to Dave is severed.
I want Ben to pull him in his arms and hold him as Klaus shatters.
Klaus, already a pile of shards, already only held together by pink gauze and glitter glue.
And in that moment he changes.
As Ben screams at his siblings in righteous fury, finally cracking under their accusing stares. Every wrong they’ve ever committed towards Klaus spilling past his lips like a never ending stream of poison.
I want Klaus to go blank.
A blankness that Five is intimately aware of, one that is part of him still. A blankness that he never would wish on any of his siblings, one that he came back to prevent.
I want him to go blank. The blank of someone who has forgotten happiness. I want him to stand up and wipe his face, I want him to stare at his siblings, zeroing in on Luther, and turn.
I want a dark Klaus. One who suffers from extreme PTSD and anxiety. One who can stand in the middle of a battlefield and calmly load a revolver and shoot every person perfectly in the forehead. One who still makes dirty jokes (now twisted and macbre and no longer finny) and wears extravagant clothes (only in pitch black). One who still does his nails in neon colors and smudges his eyeliner everywhere (now only a routine force of habit and not because it brings happiness), but also one who is a shadow of his former self.
I want a Klaus who is broken, bruised, shattered, torn. I want a Klaus whose pieces have turned to shards. Whose gauze is now barbed wire and whose glitter glue is now acid.
I want a Klaus who has an obvious, terrifying, plastic smile. I want him to willingly torture, hurt, kill and maim. I want him cold, cynical, apathetic, harsh, downright cruel.
And then
I want him to get better. I want him to change, to learn to let go, to free himself. And in the very last season I want him to smile; a bright, sunny, happy thing; crack a very Klaus joke; don his feather boa; grab his pink rimmed umbrella; shimmy into his tight lace up pants, sheer crop top, black coat and 6 inch death wish heels; and I want him to stroll into the sunset dancing to music on his I pod and singing a happy little tune.
I want Allison to whisper, with tears in her eyes that that was his first real smile in years (hell maybe decades) as she shares a grin with her siblings.
Because recovery is part of the journey, and they deserve to be happy too.
No matter how twisted their family is.
Fractured Gravestones
The best stories are made of shattered glass.
They’re beautiful, they’re tragic, they’re sad, they’re hopeful, they’re so very bittersweet.
Whenever I experience a new story I always focus on the tragic side of it. Not because I like the despair, though that does play some distant and twisted role, it’s because of what the tragedy brings out in the characters. I love following their path, how they start as innocent children and slowly come to the horrific realization of what sentient beings can do. How even with the darkness they still fight, they still love, they still bleed...all for what they believe in, because they won’t just give up.
No.
They fight for life and freedom because it is right, and because no one else will.
Maybe that's why my favorite stories are so sad sometimes.
An alien who travels across time, galaxies, universes and multiverses. Who has loved and lost more than anyone should. Who cannot be alone because he might become exactly what he fights. Who fell in love with a woman who became trapped and married a woman he met completely out of order and died upon their meeting. A man who saves and sacrifices and hurts and bleeds and asks for nothing in return. When will his time run out? When will it stop being ‘one last miracle’?
An Ice cold detective and his doctor, who run around solving crimes that no one else can. A genius who feels so fiercely that he shuts off all emotion to avoid getting hurt - again. A soldier who came home empty and is horrified to find that he misses the war. He faked his death once, who says it won't be real next time?
Two brothers and their angel who travel across the country in an old impala, fighting things of nightmares that most believe to be myth and legend. Going against all odds, against their own people, for what they believe is right. An angel always willing to bleed for them, family that would end the world for each other. They’ve died many times. when will it be permanent?
A boy drafted into a war before he was even born, who had a lightning bolt scar and a destiny he couldn't fight, and blood on his hands before he was twelve. One who grew up too fast and learned too quickly that magic wasn't always the stuff of childish dreams. His best friend who thinks he's not enough, youngest of 6 brothers who feels like his achievements don't matter. And the Brightest witch of her age, quick as a whip who saved her boys again and again. They are all drowning in blood before they are legally adults, red-stained hands leaving sticky smears in their wake, staining everything they touch. They were child soldiers, willing or not. When will the nightmares stop?
A hero of godly parentage who went to war at 16 and then was put through another before he became an adult. A boy with a loving mother who never gave up on him, an amazing half-goat best friend who would face the worst of his fears to save his life, and a girlfriend who he would bend heaven and earth for. He’s faced gods and monsters that grown men would fear, killed things that have devoured men thrice his age, bested those terrifying things repeatedly. When will the Gods leave him alone?
A group from the FBI who have been shot at, cut, imprisoned, isolated, blown up, and tortured. A genius who became addicted, a media liaison who lost a child, an ex-lawyer who lost a wife, an author dragged from retirement, a man forced to confront his traumatic past, an interpol agent made to fake her death, a bright and happy technical analyst made to see horrors before her screens every day. They are beaten, bruised and broken. How many horrific ways can someone think of killing. Why must their lives be paved with the bodies of victims never saved?
The MCRT from NCIS who have been betrayed, manipulated and hurt. Who have seen teammates die and families burn. A marine whose wife and child were murdered, an agent with a frat boy mask who almost died from the plague, an ex-mossad agent of a cracked family, an MIT graduate who was woken to real life too soon, a peppy forensic scientist whose optimism became dull, a medical examiner with a sick mother and his insecure assistant. How will they move on if everything they love keeps withering away?
A team of enhanced human beings; some with magic, some with power, some with pure skill; who help people. The universe was full of aliens and monsters and horrors untold. They kill them and incarcerate them and save the earth again and again and again from people much smarter, stronger and way more powerful than themselves. How much luck do they have? When will they go on a mission and not come back?
A Demon and an Angel in a bookshop in Soho who prevented the apocalypse. A Demon who loves plants and stares at galaxies that he helped create, never able to visit again. An angel with a love of books and food who must ‘always obey’ ‘never fail’. Two celestial beings who gave up everything for humanity and each other, and would do so again in a heartbeat. When will that not be enough? When must they let go?
There are many more stories; some popular, some obscure; but it always comes down to loving something or someone so much that you would sacrifice anything, even your own life, for it.
And I love that.
Sure it’s sad, Kids killed. Dreams squandered. Hearts shattered. Souls bruised. Hope broken… But it has a sort of beauty, the fact that they keep fighting and loving and dreaming and helping despite that, because of that.
Because no one deserves to go through the same pain they did.