#the ordeal of first needing to know and learn the problem in full in order to fix it like that

[peliginspeaks]

Thinking about the concept of self-teratomancy again. On the one hand, the agency of self-modification. On the other, the inherent implications of that being labeled teratomancy instead of Shapeling Arts: that there are hidden histories to be unlocked, that you as a creature are fragmented or ill-suited to your purpose, that to break and make yourself anew might be required. The cruelty and mercy of the knife instead of a slow and warping moulding. The fact that to change yourself requires first to know it, on a level deep and stark enough to leave the salt of your ancestors' blood on your tongue.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Struggles: Bigby Wolf x Deputy!Reader

Despite that it had happened centuries ago, the problem always seemed to manifest itself and show the ugly side to the situation. Even centuries of forcing it away, snuffing out his senses with cheap cigarettes that burn his nose dry to the point of bleeding and alcohol that does nothing but numb his mind to the whispers and taunts of what laid inside if him, Bigby never really showed his struggle with what was inside of him.

You had only heard of him losing his mind and going complete ape shit during the whole Crooked Man ordeal, when bloody Mary and the Tweedles ganged up on him in an alley by the Puddin’ & Pie. That had resulted in the death of one of the twins, you couldn’t remember which one nor did you really care.

But he had always been kept on a very tight, very short leash ever since you had all been forced from your homes. It was tough for him, agonizing as he had to learn what it was like to be… well, what he is now.

It was a mistake, you had heard Cole say to Snow as you came to drop off some paperwork. You honestly had no idea how Bigby had came to be what he is today, you had assumed it was just another glamour that most Fables had to get. But to your shock, you listened in by the closed door.

‘I’m starting to doubt that the werewolf blood in Bigby’s system is not a good idea anymore,’ King Cole had said.

You narrowed your eyes and held the folder closer to you. You had decided enough was enough and you would ask Bigby what they meant by it. They said nothing when you knocked and walked in like you never heard anything.

But even as you stood in Bigby’s apartment, he lit up a cigarette and laid against the cushions of his chair.

“In order for me to become Sheriff here, King Cole and Snow made a plan to stab me with a blade covered in werewolf’s blood so I wouldn’t need a glamour.”

“And that’s why you have those other forms?”

He nodded, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

That conversation sat in the back of your mind since then. But now, it seemed to haunt you. Both of you, really.

You both were starting to learn that Bigby, in fact, needed a glamour and not fucking blood in his system and whatever shit witches gave to Cole and Snow hundreds of years ago.

Bigby had told you that when it first happened, it only really started out with anger and fits of rage, times he would black out and wake up in the woods naked. And then as time progressed, he slowly was able to control himself and resist his urges, however, he was made a slave to the full moon every month until he was able to resist that too.

But now, neither of you know why it’s starting to happen, but Bigby was starting to react to the full moons once more. It was just minor changes at first, neither of you noticed until Snow had walked in with a call. Bigby’s teeth had a point to them, sharper than usual.

The next full moon, his facial hair had seemed to grow in thicker. Bigby usually shaves twice a day - once when he wakes up and once before he passes out - but despite just shaving nearly three hours ago, you had arrived back to work to see him scratching at thick and dark stubble.

The next full moon, his arms and chest had followed suit with his facial hair, set thicker and longer.

Then his temper had flared up the next full moon. It nearly turned violent when Bluebeard decided it would be a good idea to tempt fate and poke a sleeping bear… well, in this case, it would be a wolf. Bigby had him by the collar of his shirt, snarling, wolfish features quickly and easily sprouting without a second thought.

And now, you stood outside his door, wondering if you should really be here right now. You knew he was in there, Snow had told you so when you came back to the office to see it was locked up with Bigby nowhere to be seen.

Should you really be here? He probably wants to be left alone…

You could spot the lights were on under the door and you could hear him lumber around his apartment building, cursing to himself and groaning.

But he was your partner, and you knew he knew you were out here. If he didn’t want you here, he would have made that apparent by now.

You raised a hand to knock on the door, shocking yourself when you found it unlocked and slowly opening upon each knock. You slowly pushed it open further, poking your head into his apartment.

Your body chilled. For once, it didn’t overwhelmingly smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol like it did the last few full moons, but it smelled cleaner… at least as clean as it could be. Bigby was not in his living room nor the bathroom when you peered over to the door, and rarely did Bigby ever go to his bedroom.

All that was left was the kitchen.

You slowly opened the door just enough to slip through, eyeing the kitchen through the archway to still as you saw him standing there.

Broad back to you, hulking weight barely contained by the tight clothing from earlier, you could spy a mixture of ash and russet hair poking above the collar of his shirt as well as what was exposed of his forearms and hands. His shoes had been ditched by the kitchen archway, you spied his feet had now become very hair with long black claws at the end of each toe.

“Bigby?”

He barely turned his head to look at you over his shoulder in acknowledgment, softly gasping when his acidic yellow eyes practically froze you in place from where you stood in his living room. Even in their majestic beauty, you could still feel the tension radiating off of him. He was a dangerous man when pushed far enough, but you knew - despite the werewolf blood coursing through his veins - that he was struggling to stay Bigby.

[vaulted-ceiling-painted-sky]

I'm making a major life change. I'm detransitioning (for medical reasons, so please don't cancel me).

I don't talk about this sort of thing much on my blog because I prefer to live a relatively private life separate from social media. However, I still wanted to disclose some things to my followers. I was on testosterone for over 5 years. I got the prescription after 8 months of counseling for gender dysphoria, followed by a consultation with a psychiatrist and an endocrinologist. This all started back in 2016 and I began taking T in 2017.

The symptoms that were considered part of my gender dysphoria diagnosis were mostly related to body dysmorphia. Since puberty, I felt like my body shape was completely wrong and that certain parts didn't belong to me (no real explanation, just physical discomfort). I had an eating disorder for many years that I never fully recovered from until the T improved my metabolism enough and I could start eating intuitively again. My other symptoms were... pretty much just being a weird girl and a social misfit. I had learned to mask it ok but social expectations just felt overwhelming and exhausting.

T was amazing for the first few years. My period stopped after a month, I lost fat and put on muscle, I could eat a full meal again, my body felt right in a way it never had before. I even got a new job where I felt like a fit in way better as a guy. I was extremely well informed on what changes to expect and when, and I was always careful with my health, getting regular blood tests and checking in with my doctors.

The side effects started to accumulate and worsen however. My body temperature ran high and I got overheated quite easily, which affected my sleep among other things. After about a year I started to get intense abdominal cramps with increasing frequency. Several years of this and I eventually had to get a hysterectomy (I kept my ovaries) and the cramping finally stopped. I had already had top surgery at this point. That was an entire ordeal on its own. I needed to have an emergency revision a week after the original surgery when I got a hematoma in the left side of my chest. I had to drive myself to the emergency room (my boyfriend was at work) where they opened the stitches and tried to manually drain it. Blood was gushing out of my side. I had to be rushed into the OR to have it fixed. After about 4 years on T, I began to have constant pain in certain organs due to atrophy. Medication only stopped it from getting worse, but the pain was still there and sex was out of the question. This can take a toll on one's mental health and relationship. The side effect that really scared me though was the heart problems. After nearly 5 years on T, I started having episodes of fast, pounding, irregular heartbeats. They were uncorrelated with anxiety, and heartburn medication did nothing. I stopped T for a few weeks and the episodes decreased. I started T again and had the worst one yet, where I was actually afraid for my life. I stopped again and my heart issues resolved in a month or two. My last dose was in October 2022.

Since then my body has been reverting to its natural appearance. I just look more feminine and read as female in spite of a flat chest and deep voice. It happened quickly for me. I decided to file paperwork for a court order name and gender change last week. I think I'll be back to publicly presenting as a woman in a few months. This has been a lot for me to process but I'm cautiously optimistic. And I'm so, so grateful that I have a loving, open-minded boyfriend and a supportive family. I don't know what I would do without them.

Why did I post this? Well, I thought sharing my experience might be useful for some of you. If you're on T or getting gender-related surgeries, or if someone you care about is, it's helpful to know about some of the things that can happen. My experiences differed significantly in some ways from the standard information you get on this stuff. Side effects can be quite manageable for some people, but very serious for others. I thought I was at very low risk of anything bad happening yet treatment still proved unsustainable for me. It can be difficult to find accurate information in a medical field that's been unfairly politicized. I just want what's best for everyone though.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would a cw adaptation of Harry Potter look like?

Having not watched too many cw shows myself (I just hear about their nonsense), I phoned @therealvinelle who made the poor life choices of having watched much more of The Vampire Diaries than I have and watching any Supernatural.

The following is her beautiful response:

So for starters, we merge Snape and Tom's characters. This is because Snape isn't hot, and because Tom needs to be near the kids. Tom still looks like Tom Riddle, and he's a teacher who seduces Hermione. At no point are any thoughts about the fact that he's a teacher sleeping with a student had

Harry is a blond now, and he's also dating Hermione. A love triangle ensues, one where Tom will hover sexily but dangerously in empty classrooms and make vague threats that Hermione find very sexually arousing.

The love triangle is the focal point of this show.

Voldemort is Tom's evil alter ego, who killed Harry's parents over that prophecy. He wants to kill Harry as well, but it's not the season finale yet so he's not actually doing anything about it. Too busy seducing Hermione.

Instead he just does vaguely sinister things, like release a basilisk that Harry heroically saves Hermione from.

He every so often has charged conversations with McGonagall (Who has been aged down and is in her thirties. She's still considered ancient), implying they had an affair once.

Harry and Hermione piece together that Tom and Voldemort aRe ThE sAmE pErSoN.

(Piece together meaning that Dumbledore, who only appeared in the second half of the first season and the show never bothers to clarify what his job actually is, gets a focal episode where he tells them the story of Tom Riddle through flashbacks. Terrible flashback wigs and costumes galore.)

Tom will later, in season 3 where he goes full woobie and we learn that none of his evil deeds were ever his fault, reveal that there's more to the story. That orphanage he grew up in? It was a special school for muggle-borns where they trained a future wizarding militia. Tom was the only one who broke free of their oppressive regime. The other children... GREW UP TO BECOME THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX.

But I'm skipping how season 1 ended. The answer is that Hermione disavowed Tom in the season 1 finale since he was evil, he was too sexy bad boy to care except subtle wigglings of his eyebrow told the captive Tomione-shipping audience that he did in fact care. Harmione shippers think they're all delusional. She then jumped into Harry's arms.

Which was poor decision making on her end, because in season 2 Harry joins the dark side. This lasts for half a season, mostly because the arc featured so much filler. Tom, who was imprisoned in season 1, becomes Hermione's supportive pen pal through this ordeal and she starts to wonder if maybe there's good in him after all.

Sirius Black is introduced, he's a lawyer living in the Muggle world and he was in love with Lily. We get a flashback showing us how sad Sirius was when she married James, and there is buildup for an arc where Harry's paternity will be questioned. This arc is scrapped, and Sirius is written out of the show altogether, never to be mentioned again.

Ginny gets pregnant by Neville. Neville dies tragically shortly afterwards, killed by Harry because Harry is a dark wizard now. This is actually the spinoff door episode to the new show the CW is trying to launch, "The Weasleys".

Neville's death has no real consequences, Harry returns to the light and is forgiven in time to become the child's godfather.

Oh, and can't believe I forgot: they've all been aged up to 17.

End of season 2, Tom escapes prison.

Season 3, we get the whole "DUMBLEDORE is the real villain!" arc. Tom killing Harry's parents in season 1 is forgotten, the show doesn't outright retcon it but it doesn't want the viewers to remember it either.

Hermione is once again in a love triangle, only this time Tom and Harry have both done bad things (but we'll only bring up the 2 bad things Harry did (killed Neville and said a mean thing to Hermione) and none of the 282985204592 bad things Tom did) so Hermione has a hard time.

Hermione also discovers that she's a uniquely powerful witch. She has the power to make windows shatter, candles flicker, and wind blow all about. Everyone is frightfully impressed with this.

Mid-season 3 finale, Dumbledore destroys Tom's body. It's terribly dramatic, but then turns out to only be a mild inconvenience as he is resurrected four episodes later. He's resurrected by Hermione's window shattering powering, she closed her eyes very intensely and bam, he's back.

We learn about the horcruxes, which by themselves are shockingly similar to the horcruxes of the original books. The big change, however, is that this Tom didn't know he had horcruxes, those evil bastards at the orphanage split his soul in the night through ominous rituals (another flashback here). He has no idea where this other half of his soul is.

Season finale, we learn that Hermione is in fact his horcrux. This is why they had so much in common (they don't have anything in common) and why she got through his bad boy persona (he hasn't been a bad boy since season 1!). They were soulmates this whole time!

Harry despairs in the face of this, and he and Hermione have a teary conversation where she confirms that yes, the Tomione shippers won.

He also has a pleasant conversation with Tom, as a bromance has bloomed between the two.

Alas. The episode ends on a cliffhanger, as the door flings open dramatically. Dumbledore walks in, bearing proof that Tom made an Unbreakable Vow to always serve the Order, a Vow that was obliviated from him. He drags Tom kicking and screaming away from a crying Hermione, the season ends with her resolve to find a way to save him.

(Sorry, I'm on a roll here)

Season 4, a year later. Harry and Hermione have been searching ever since Tom disappeared. They've become closer than ever, but apart from three or four moments of extreme sexual tension per episode, Hermione is Faithful™

News of Tom's terrorist actions as an Order member reach them with regular intervals. Hermione remains convinced that he's being forced to do all this and doesn't actually want to hurt anybody, Harry's not so sure.

They catch up to him in Minneapolis (did I mention this entire show takes place in the states? All the actors are American.) and he tells them to stop trying to save him. Hermione, devastated, takes this to mean he never loved her, he was only ever a psychopath playing with her feelings. She tells him as much, and Tom confirms, yeah, he's a cold-hearted son of a bitch (Harry's favorite insult for him).

They break up, and Hermione gets back with Harry. They return to their home city in North Dakota.

At the very end of that same episode, Tom is able to visit Harry for 15 seconds in the form of a specter and very dramatically tell him how he does love Hermione but he's not good for her, better to make a clean break, yada yada. DON'T LOOK FOR ME.

Harry agrees, sure no problem, he can do that. Just one noble bro to another.

Tom nods, thanks for having sex with my girl while I rot in hell, bro.

It is in this same season premier episode that the show introduces the Blacks. Remember Sirius Black? Yeah, this is sexy family.

They become instant fan favorites, and one of them is shipped with Tom (the fans now hate both Harry and Hermione).

Pandering as always, the show lets said character run into Tom. And it's not Bellatrix, oh no. It's Athena, a CW original Black. She's indistinguishable from the original Bellatrix and it's unclear why she's not just Bellatrix.

Tom is ordered to kill her, but they have a moment of truly intense eye contact so he only injures her (the killing curse doesn't exist in this show. Don't ask how Harry got his scar. No really, don't ask, the show never explained it). Shippers go wild.

Tom is eventually able to break free of the Unbreakable Vow through the power of true love (book fans are sobbing, this show gets nothing right), and he returns to Hermione, begs her to take him back. She rebuffs him, and he goes to get drunk at a bar. This is where Narcissa (aged down to 25) finds him. They have sex.

He has a brief fling with her, only to get into a more serious relationship with Athena. This leads to Hermione getting jealous.

We're now dealing with a love pentagon, of sorts. Harry and Tom love Hermione, Tom also loves Athena, Narcissa wants Harry but she has undeniable sexual chemistry with Tom.

The show descends into back-and-forth-ing, and does not get renewed.

The end.

POST SCRIPT:

The oddly popular side character that the CW never wanted to be popular at all and keeps having to make mysteriously vanish for half a season so that the plot(?) can avoid being derailed is Draco.

He's super competent but the show will never admit that.

Later, Athena plays this same role.

- @therealvinelle

[wangshuus]

love like you | xiao

pairing: xiao/gn!reader

genre: angst+fluff

wc: 4.1k

summary: you and xiao are polar opposites according to him and because of that, he deems himself unworthy. 

note: this is my first time writing for genshin and i love xiao so much so this is essentially a bunch of word vomit i whipped together while listening to love like you from the su soundtrack :’) 

(i’ll have to go in for another proof read after but pls take this for now)

fic under the cut

In the land of Liyue, the Adepti were acknowledged for being the protectors of the sacred land, guarding both it and its people. As most of the adepti resided in their abodes, there was but one that stayed within the vicinity of the Wangshu Inn. Xiao; the Vigilant Yaksha, Conqueror of Demons, Alatus. He went by many titles, many names all of which carried the story of the adeptus himself. Upon the years of history carried through Liyue in its passing generations, it’s known to many that despite having the looks of a young man, the adeptus was not someone you would want to take lightly. The Yaksha carried thousands of years worth of burden, shackles of guilt and terror binding him to unpleasant memories. With every passing day, he is harshly reminded of the way he and his polearm skillfully worked through the bloodied dance of weapons on the battlefield, crimson liquid painting the ground and his very hands. It stains so intensely that it was like an unseen tattoo that reminded him of eons of slaughter he partook in, the lives and dreams he so greedily took from people. It was something only he could see and something he would continue to see for many more years to come according to him. 

He very rarely got close to anything or anyone, devoting his life to duty and the orders granted to him by Rex Lapis to protect the beloved land of Liyue. For this very reason, he never thought much about emotions or the overall concept of it, seeing it as a worthless matter, a weakness even, for it could not help in the slaying of those in battle. All he ever knew at that point was violence, having his purity harshly stolen from his grasp all those centuries ago and being left with not even a single grain of what it was like to feel anything pleasant. Whenever he did feel anything, pain, suffering and agony were the only things that filled his system therefore to him, it was better to feel nothing at all. Needless to say, he was somewhat unapproachable on several levels, but who could blame him? 

There then came a day in which all of this would away as an estranged guest made your way merry when into the Inn. You, (Y/n) were a mere mortal traveler with a dendro vision chained upon your hip, specializing in the field of healing. You stumbled upon the inn, looking to take on commissions and requests in exchange for a room for the time being. Your fates clashed with each other during your first encounter when you were tasked to deliver almond tofu to the adeptus that was specially made by yourself. You could still remember stuttering over your words in embarrassment during your first meeting as he revealed himself to you, commending you for your culinary skills but telling you to leave immediately, saying something along the lines of it being ‘too dangerous for mere mortals to stay in the presence of adepti for too long’. It was accurate to say that you two took an interest in the oddity of the situation. Why did Xiao decide to reveal himself to the simple human, knowing very well his mere presence was already a threat to you. Why did you not turn away in fear just from the adeptus’ profound deathly gaze? There were several unspoken questions between you two at the time but that one fateful encounter had caused a shift.

You had decided to extend your stay at the inn a little longer than you intended to. You went about the daily tasks set out by Verr in exchange for your stay every day that you were there. The completion of your tasks leads to a delivery that had become habitual to you during your stay at the inn. Every day you’d made your way up to the highest terrace in the inn to drop off a plate of almond tofu to the adeptus. On some days, he’d reveal himself and on some others, he chose to remain unseen-- and to you, this was okay. As the days passed, it began to be more apparent how odd this whole shift was for the both of them.

You are an adventurer, someone who sought out to travel the lands, and yet, you remained grounded at the Inn, your fascination and curiosity driving your patience to learn about the distant Yaksha and fuelling your willingness to stay settled at the inn instead of seeking for the thrill of adventure. Xiao was an adeptus, a being that has lived for many years on end, a being that has slaughtered countless, a being that carried an indescribable amount of karmic debt for all the treacherous and ungodly amount of terror he has bestowed upon thousands in the past. He could not explain to himself why he even decided to associate with a simple mortal, thinking that there was something wrong with him at the time because he knew that if he were in his right mind, he would have never even bothered taking a glance at the human. But then again, not all things could be explained. From the days that you had stayed at the Inn for that time, you would find yourself visiting the lone adeptus every evening, delivering a plate of what became familiar to him as your almond tofu, the one that deemed to be the closest to that of the dreams he so greedily devoured all those years ago. 

Months had passed since the first day you first set foot into the inn. You had managed other work and commissions throughout the time but often found herself coming back. you became well acquainted with everyone who worked there, practically making it her second home in fact. Even when you did have to part ways, you would pass by whenever you could, sparing your time and energy at least once a week to come reeling back like a moth drawn to a flame. The reason behind it was very evident to you, nothing that you would ever admit to hiding at this point. You did enjoy the company and atmosphere of the other humans at the inn but at the end of the day, everything came back down to the enigmatic adeptus that resided there. 

Sensing your presence had become second nature to the adeptus, him knowing the very moment you set foot into the Inn. He would never admit it to himself, but he found himself looking forward to the mortal’s visits. He still thought about the first day he decided to reveal himself to you, feeling a little more content about it with every passing day. But something about the whole ordeal scared him to no end. He wished it wasn’t the case but he was well aware of all the changes and feelings that had bloomed since you waltzed into his life. The feeling of bubbling excitement inside of him every time you came back to him, the feeling of embarrassment of when you’d blurt out compliments towards him, feeling more comfortable and daring as the visits continued. The feeling of protectiveness washing over him when you told him stories in which you got even the slightest bit injured. One may view this just as someone showing emotion; but that was the problem for him. He wasn’t supposed to show emotion-- he wasn’t supposed to feel-- according to himself at least. Rather, he didn’t deem himself worthy to feel pleasant emotions.

“Xiao” A familiar voice called out to him, turning to face the direction from where he stood, which happened to be the spot where he viewed the familiar landscape of Liyue.

You made your way towards him, holding out a plate of almond tofu which he had come to admire. He took the plate from your grasp and greeted her with a light hum of acknowledgment before beginning to munch down on the tofu. You let out a soft chuckle before standing next to him and leaning on the railing, staring off into the starry skies you had become accustomed to seeing, though every time, it never failed to amaze you. Your eyes gazed at the twinkling stars in the sky as you began your usual routine of speaking about how your life has been since you last saw each other. You had become accustomed to Xiao’s aloof demeanor at times like this because you knew that despite him seemingly looking uncaring, he was secretly listening to your rambling. You stared off into the distance as you spoke, your attention being stolen by the stars. While at work on the plate of almond tofu in his hands, Xiao took these moments to look at you as he silently listened to your long-winded sentences.

In serene moments like these, it was hard for Xiao to keep his composure. Though the stars in the sky glimmered so beautifully, they paled in comparison to your eyes when they sparkled so passionately when you spoke of your adventures. In moments like these, Xiao was reminded of your courteous nature. He was reminded of how good you are, going about your time adventuring the lands, specializing in the art of healing with the assistance of the beloved vision clipped at your side. You lived for adventure; you lived to help those in need. It was in moments like these when he became painfully aware of how different you were from each other.

It had been so long since Xiao ever considered himself to be good in any way. He was all too aware of the disgusting red that painted his hands permanently, the hands which have slain countless beings in the past. The hands that he did not see worthy to touch anything so fragile in fear that it would break, feeling as if anything would die at even the slightest touch of his fingertips. You see, when he met you, he was so sure that he was far from anything good and you proved himself to be right in his mind; because you were what he deemed to be good in his eyes. And he was nothing like you.

Before he knew it, he was left with an empty plate and a bustling mind full of thoughts as he looked out into the distance along with your words flowing freely with the wind. You turned back to see Xiao in all his glory, taking in his presence, eyes lingering upon him like the first time you met him. There was never a day that passed where he didn’t look stunning in your eyes. The reserved yaksha was nothing short of a challenge for you to get close to. Even to this day, there are times where he was standoffish towards you. In moments like these, you’re reminded of how you’ve barely scratched the surface of his character, being well aware that he’s lived far longer than you and will quite possibly continue to live way beyond your time. Though he hasn’t explained every single detail of his past to you, there have been significant points in time where he has opened up about snippets of his past, to which you grasped and held onto as much detail as you could when he went on. You’ve picked up that Xiao isn’t the most well-articulated when it comes to explaining his feelings but you paid no mind to it, taking pride over the fact that he has yet to slit your throat open with his spear. There have been countless occasions in which you’ve praised Xiao but none of them have truly projected your feelings towards the adeptus.

Xiao was not truly aware of how deeply you felt for him. Sure, he thought that you were interested enough to stick around and pester him for who knows whatever reason. However, it went way beyond that. You admired him so dearly, his presence being one in which you ironically found an indescribable amount of comfort in. You’ve listened intently to his wise words of wisdom, his tales of his bloodstained past that he was willing to share, as well as his little remarks about how peculiar humans are. You saw beyond the seemingly frigid, cold, and distant demeanor of Xiao and instead saw a boy with such a yearning to be tender, gentleness being beyond his reach according to him but to you, he was gentle. 

You noticed the way he would handle the little things involving you. You notice the way his tone has changed in the slightest when talking to you whenever he does, softer than the first time you had initially met. You notice the way he acts when it comes to physical touch, preferring to make little to no contact to you but his touches were soft and fleeting whenever touch was necessary. He’s told you several times in the past that he has a brute touch preferring a distance to keep himself from hurting you. From that alone, you knew he’s gentle, reluctant to admit it though due to the events of the past but nonetheless, his gentleness was hard to grasp but must be cherished greatly and that is something that you have done. 

“Xiao” You called out to him. He turned to face you, noticing how you were staring right back at him, your arms resting upon the railing as you gazed at him.

“Is something wrong? You seem a little more spaced out today.” You spoke out again.

He sighed before clicking his tongue. “It's nothing that should be of any concern to mo--” 

“--mortals like you, I know yada yada yada. You’ve said that far too many times in the past. Now tell me, what’s truly wrong Xiao. I did make you listen to my rambling so it’s only fair that you shoot something my way.” You cut him off. 

Annoyance laced his features as he let out his nth sigh of the day. He turned to look at you, giving you a serious, almost cold look.

“I am already greatly aware of how odd some human tendencies are, knowing you mortals do some strange actions that even I question to this day. But you, you are the most peculiar of ones that I have encountered. You wish to stay with someone as myself, someone who could take your life in a single heartbeat. So tell me, why does someone like you continue to linger?”

Lo and behold, a question that you were surprised to hear from him, though you knew the day would eventually come when he would ask. Why did you continue to come to him time and time around? You let out an exasperated sigh as you turned to him with a lighthearted smile in an attempt to lighten the tension that filled the air.

“I enjoy your company, that’s all. Is it so wrong to spend time with someone when you enjoy them being around?” You stated. His eyes narrowed at your response.

“I do not believe it is normal to risk your life simply for mere company, it is not worth it. I refuse to believe that your motives are as light-hearted as that. Is there something that you desire that is beyond that of human capabilities?” He stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile faltered at his aloof response. What was with the sudden cold demeanor he decided to put up front? You held eye contact with his warm amber orbs that held a stare ironically as cold as the mountains of Dragonspine.

“It’s because you’re you, Xiao. I come back and spend my time here because you are you. I enjoy the little things about you and the time we spend together, y’know? I enjoy the way your eyes light up at the sight of almond tofu, I enjoy your little declarations of how odd us mortals are, I enjoy hearing you open up about even the littlest of things. You’re special in my eyes, Xiao. You’re strong in so many different aspects, you’re wise in the words of advice you speak and last but not least, you’re gentle. Those are just a few of many aspects of yourself that make you so special to me.”

Xiao’s face contorted to one of bewilderment for a brief moment before morphing to one of disbelief, scoffing at the statement. ‘Gentle’ he thought. When you mentioned him being gentle, he thought to himself that it was a load of pure nonsense.

“Calling me gentle is simply blasphemous. I have told you countless times that I am far anything related to that of a tender nature. I leave nothing but a trail of anguish and regret. You’re foolish to see me in anything of a good kind of special, even more so if you see me as gentle.” He firmly stated as his arms crossed tightly across his torso.

Archon’s Xiao’s mind was a mess. He was in a stubborn state of denial as he refused to believe the words that slipped past your lips, writing them off as lies. He covered the creeping insecurity that arose in him with a stone cold demeanor like he always did. He couldn’t accept it, he couldn't even fathom to believe what makes you think he’s so special. 

“Listen Xiao, you’re being awfully stubborn right now.” You said dejectedly. Despite his current manner, you wouldn’t back down, seeing this as one of the only opportunities where you could truly and openly speak about how you felt towards him. You turned so that you were fully facing him, standing your ground as you spoke to him.

“You think so lowly of yourself sometimes y’know? It saddens me to know that you only ever see yourself like that.” You stated.

“I am stating nothing but the tru--” Xiao spoke.

“Listen to me, Xiao.” You cut him off, him being surprised by your snapback.

“You’re far more than your own past. I’m aware of everything you’ve gone through from what you’ve told me. Forgive me for I’m unable to fully sympathize with you but I can’t let you continue to do this to yourself. I’ve only known you for mere months out of the thousands of years you’ve lived but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you’re not as bad as you claim yourself to be.” You paused for a moment to gather yourself before you continued on, looking that Xiao was very much paying attention, an unreadable look on his face.

“You’ve told me yourself that you’ve been around long enough to capture the knowledge of the world to an extent. You’ve told me that you’re aware of how barbaric and lethal your own strength is but you’ve never told me that you hold tenderness inside you, even after all you’ve been through. You hold such valuable knowledge in the field of strength but you’ve failed to notice that the gentleness in you is not completely gone.” Your own hands stretched out and firmly held onto his gloved ones as you continued speaking. 

“You speak about yourself as if you’re not worthy of feeling anything but the anguish and pain as a price to pay for your actions. You’re allowed to feel vulnerable, you’re allowed to feel curious, you’re allowed to feel happiness. I want you to be more honest with yourself so that you can see that you’re worthy enough to feel good emotions. You can extend yourself out to others and the human world and allow yourself to be free. Still after all this time, I sense you feel that it’s necessary to keep me at an arm's length but that’s not true nor is it something that I want. Though this fact alone proves my statement. The fact you wish to keep me away is a sign that you hold that gentleness within but you can still learn to be gentle without having to lock everyone out. Your loneliness isn’t an inevitable conclusion, and I’ll prove to you that it isn't. I wish to stay with you not only because I enjoy your company but because I found something in you worth cherishing. I want to see you grow from whatever anguish you hold, even if it’s just a little bit. I know my life might be merely a second in yours but please, let me do what I can in my lifetime to make you feel worthy and feel loved, because I truly do love and care for you, Xiao.” Your grip tightened around his hands, fearing that he’d yank them away from you with every passing second. Although you firmly stand your ground, you were internally malfunctioning at the whole-hearted confession to the adeptus in front of you.

Xiao felt as if the wind was knocked out of his lungs, face contorted into that of even more disbelief as he found himself still trying to process this whole ordeal. He took the time in processing the words that came directly from your heart as it went straight into his, a warm feeling erupting inside of him, something that felt to foreign to him that it scared him a little. Though your words held a weight to them, it was much more pleasant compared to that of his past memories, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the way you desperately held onto him.

He was well aware that he could pull away from you at any moment, knowing that your strength could in no way match his but he couldn’t do it. The moment your hands touched his, even through his gloves he felt the firm gentleness of your grasp. You were no hydro user but in that very moment, he felt as if you washed away the bloody sins that stained his hands for years on end. For once he felt clean; for once he felt pure, rid of all the unpleasantries of the world for these very moments that he spent with you.

You noticed how Xiao stood still. You feared that you might’ve severely angered him from the way you snapped at him, but the look on his face told you otherwise.

The usually serious and stern face of the adeptus held such a soft, perhaps vulnerable look. His eyes were wide and in the moonlight, you could tell that they were glossed over from the way they shone with emotion, mouth slightly ajar, possibly trying to find the right words to respond to you. He didn’t need to say anything though because from that look alone, you got all the answers that you needed.

You slowly let go of his hands as one arm moved to wrap around his waist and the other going towards the back of his head, reeling him in closely for a foreign yet mellow embrace. His hands awkwardly stayed at his sides before they slowly and hesitantly moved to hug you back, leaning in gently to your touch as your hand led his head to the crook of your neck, allowing him to bask in the warmth you so generously offered him. For the first time in archons knows how long, Xiao felt a warm liquid spill from his eyes, staining your shirt. Your hands ruffled through his hair in an attempt to soothe him in his time of vulnerability. His hold on you was still so light, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you if he held on even tighter. The hand that ghosted over his back made its way to one of his arms and tugged at it, encouraging him to hold on as much as he needed.

“It’s okay Xiao, you can hold on tighter. I’m not as fragile as you may think. You don’t have to be scared of breaking me.” You chuckled lightheartedly.

His grip did tighten, as he began to mumble words with his face still buried at your side. Something along the lines of apologizing for snapping at you earlier. Your smile widened as you held onto him even tighter if that was possible.

Xiao knew he wasn’t perfect, he was far from it in fact. He had so many flaws and rough edges but that was okay--that’s what made him Xiao. He never understood until now why you thought he was so special and to be quite frank, he still didn’t understand, but he was determined to understand it one day. He wasn’t good like you but he wanted to start believing that he was good in his own way, wishing to truly do something that he felt was right by you in the future. Though it wouldn’t be the easiest of journeys, he was determined to do something that feared him to no end--for you. He wanted to learn how to love, how to love you even more and openly express it to you but also, learn how to love himself, just as you loved him. 

“Thank you, (Y/n).”

[varjopeura]

13, 27, 47, and of course 61 for tomu and/or glimmer! :3

13. what are some motifs you associate with them? did you intentionally bring in those motifs, or did it happen over time?

Tomu: For Todenmukaisuus, there is the recurring theme of Running Away that just keeps resurfacing over and over again. There's the obvious and intentional instance of it in her backstory (running away from her past and starting her life as an adventurer), but the amount of escaping various situations her current party does took me entirely by surprise. Just on the top of my head I can list five separate times the party went "okay, time to leave this place very quickly, and we're all in agreement that we can't come back here ever again, right?". I've been immensely enjoying playing with this theme and can't wait to see if she and her companions ever learn to not run away from all their problems. (also, nowadays every song about messy breakups and abusive relationships remind me of Tomu, so I guess that's a thing too)

Glimmer: Glimmer's got the fully intentional fire motif going on. At first it's all gentle light and candles, tiny friendly flames that need protection, and as the campaign kept going and Glimmer's powers grew greater, so did the flame imagery grow into a blinding, scorching wildfire, burning everything around it in order to change the world. I really like the idea of light as a both gentle and destructive force, and wanted to explore both aspects of it with Glim's journey.

There's also a surprising amount of eye imagery that I associate with her, especially in regards to blindness. This one I didn't even realize until late in the campaign, when Glimmer got blindfolded for a while and it just felt… important. The blind eye motif has just crept its way into the art I draw of her, into her playlist lyrics, into the npc:s that are close to her. It just was always there, waiting for me to See it, I guess :D

27. how do they usually dress? why do they dress the way they do?

Tomu: Todenmukaisuus usually wears what I like to call "pirate clothing": poofy deep-cut linen shirts and duster coats, things that look good but not too flashy, and are somewhat gender neutral. You never know when you need to disappear into the crowd or slap a fake moustache on your face and pretend to be someone else entirely, so the clothing must reflect that. (I'm still not sure if this will change in the light of recent events where she acquired a Hat of Disguise and is thus free to dress however she likes without worrying about the disguising aspects of any given outfit. Personally I'm fond of her current looks as they are!) In terms of color, she favors deep mahogany browns and wine reds, accented with gold and cream details.

Glimmer: Glimmer sticks pretty much entirely to her cleric robes, though in a very mix-and-match fashion that is not necessarily endorsed by the clergy of Dawnfather as a whole. I imagine the vestments consisting of layers and layers of separate pieces, and donning them is supposed to be a half-meditative process where the cleric thinks about the different aspects of faith the garments represent (I recently learned this is actually very similar to how christian priests dress for sermon, too). The process of dressing up while deep in prayer is of course a whole ordeal when the robes in question are your everyday clothes, so Glimmer tends to just… skip it entirely. It's not like she'd remember the Correct Parts anyway, as the formalities of being a cleric aren't exactly her strongest suit. So in her case, the robing situation tends to wildly differentiate between each day. Today's warm, so maybe just the light lacey undershirt and an embroidered vest over that to make it look decent. Or, no one's going to mind of she just takes the hem of the robe and reworks it to a pair of trousers, that's just the sensible option deep in the woods or on horseback, right? (I actually really want to draw a full Glimmer dress-up chart, there are so many fun options and so many pieces to figure out. Maybe I will, I'm inspired now.)

47. what could they talk about for hours on end?

Tomu: Tomu would probably explode from excitement if someone asked her about her process of the fake potion crafting. These things take skill and thought, you know, it's not just randomly slapping ingredients together like you're a child playing with mud. You need to know all the differences between how different types of oils, alcohols and inks work, you need to know the right quantities of ingredients that will make or break the potion. It would be catastrophic to slip any of this to her customers, obviously, so she has taken a habit of not really speaking about her "trade secrets" to anyone. But she is very proud of this skillset, she desperately wants to spill the beans on it! So if someone she trusted would ask about her potion-crafting, they would definitely get a lengthy rundown about the different properties of all the things you could feasibly sell in a bottle. (I think Tomu would love to have an apprentice for this stuff, now that I think of it. She's SO not ready to teach anyone, but she'd love it nonetheless.)

Glimmer: Glimmer is not much of a talker, really. She can listen to other people talk for hours, completely enraptured by their words, but she often hesitates to join in on a conversation for fear of saying something Wrong. I think the closest thing to a hours-on-end talking for Glimmer were the (not necessarily entirely canon) side conversations she was having with the party bard, Harmonia. Those were basically in-character therapy sessions that sometimes got very long. The tieflings in that campaign had a lot of baggage between the two of them and we as their players were happy to drag every horrible bit of backstory into scrutiny between the actual game sessions. :D

61. is there an in-game moment of theirs you think about and just laugh?

Tomu: I love most of Tomu's attempts at deception, she's an absolute mess if she doesn't have the time to properly plan things. My heart holds a special place for the time the party was sneaking in the fields of some noble family in order to do some Nefarious Deeds there. Unfortunately they were spotted by a group of guards, and Tomu, reacting quickly, disguised herself as a noblewoman and tried to claim that she's just traveling to the nearest town with her group of servants and got lost, and no, she does not need to be escorted back to the road, and no, she does not need any directions, she's going to figure this out all on her own. Obviously this raised some suspicions in the guards. The party ranger also decided that this was the perfect time to sneak away from the group and do their intended sneaky business now when the guards' attention was elsewhere, but he got noticed right away and the situation started to escalate rather quickly. There were arrows shot and swords drawn, though the situation never broke out into a full fight. Tomu never broke character and kept complaining about bad servant material, asking the guards if there was a place in town to hire some better ones, and criticizing the confusing road design that leads people wandering on some random field, and hey, young man, you almost hit me with that arrow, watch it now! Finally the party was able to just walk out after Tomu offered the guards a rather sizable bag of coin "for ruining their field". Like, it was a mess. I still don't know if she even succeeded at whatever she was trying to do, but all of it was hilarious anyway.

Glimmer: The one Glimmer moment that nevel fails to make me laugh happened very early in the campaign. The party had found out about some suspicious cult activity in the small town they were staying in, and decided to investigate it. The characters split their ways and tried a different approach each, Glimmer's thing being just straight up trying to spot some of the grey-robed cultists on the streets. After a botched perception roll, she ended up spending hours wandering around the town, not finding any cultists but following around various innocent people she had deemed "suspicious looking" for wearing things that would maybe look grey-ish if you squinted. When she finally got back, the rest of the party were already sharing their findings with each other. And Glimmer busts through the door into the middle of their conversation, urgently and confidently sharing her news to everyone else: "There are no cultists here, but everyone else in this city is being shady as hell, we should go." The line was just delivered straight from her heart, so passionately that I can't but laugh when I remember it. I think that was one of the first moments where Glimmer took over and I could just watch her do dumb shit and enjoy the ride, too.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[pkg4mumtown]

Signs of Attachment - Ch. 1

Summary: Having an auditory processing disorder never slowed you down, but it mean you were confined to the Temple when the Clone Wars started. Will the frustration of not understanding people at times make for a rather lonely existence?

Pairing: Obi-Wan/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G (for now)

Warnings: Hard of Hearing Reader, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first Star Wars fic, so have mercy on me. This request was for my friend, Jaime, who gave me all sorts of information and I’m forever indebted to them for it. The timeline is probably very off, but…oh well!

To clarify before we start:

“Text.” Means someone is speaking.

“Text.” Means someone is speaking and signing.

Text, Means someone is signing.

Chapter 1 - Effort

I slid the last tool into place and closed its drawer, the Halls of Healing finally back in order after the last rush of injured Jedi passed through. I thought bitterly about the war that I was barred from, except for the occasional medic deployment to forward operating bases. My saber hung uselessly at my side despite every test I passed to prove my worthiness to the Council.  It’s not that they didn’t have faith in me, they just saw me as a liability, which is probably just as bad. Despite how hard I tried to explain it, they were convinced that I could never be focused enough to be on the front lines. Yet, I passed every test while purposely being fully deafened and even being both deafened and blinded, which was somehow easier than the former.

Being assigned to the Halls of Healing seemed almost harder than combat, considering I had been far better at fighting than healing throughout my entire knighthood. Semi-dangerous solo missions before the wars? The Council saw no problems. A full scale war with plenty of droids as target practice? A big problem, apparently.

I was so consumed in my thoughts that I had barely registered someone, no two someones, or rather their force signatures, entering the Halls.

Swoosh

I didn’t even have a chance to decipher any of what they were saying as their words and voices started to blend together immediately due to their arguing.

“Sop.”

“Yaioyu satowep beeineg doifficultat.”

“Lletat muoe gaorn.”

“No."

“Atnakin, ei doon'tat noeead tolorn beoe heneroe.”

I glanced over at my Droid for help, but its signing was a mess as both voices talked over each other. I eventually stopped looking at it and took a deep, calming breath. I tried to pick apart the voices and focus on one but both faded in and out, making it nearly impossible.

Shove. Scuffle.

“You do…”

“Eeim f—ine”

Slap.

“Yu figelol otan muoe.”

“Ei tolrippead.”

“Muaster, poleasoe tolelol heniem.”

Silence.

“Muaster?”

More silence.

“Muaster…?”

Oh. The closeness of the strongest signature was behind me now, poised and ready to—

Tap.

I turned and faced the two, rather loud, intruders to this calming place. My Droid wasn’t yet in place behind them, so I couldn’t quite get everything but I got enough. I had never gotten quite good at lip reading with Master Plo as a teacher, so he had learned Basic Sign Language to help supplement what was missed in speaking. I relied on my droid to sign to me quite heavily when dealing with patients to understand what was wrong with them, but it was only helpful if one person was speaking at a time. Definitely not whatever this train wreck of a duo was.

“Master?” the spikey-haired Padawan asked, staring straight at me.

“Forgive my Padawan, he toakess atfteer muwy Muasteer,” the older Jedi rolled his eyes, noticeably leaning on his Padawan and clutching his side.

“I do not.”

Feeling another round of arguing bubbling up, I held my palm up, “Both of you stop, please, and start from the top.” My Droid finally stepped in place behind them so I could see the signs over their shoulders.

“We just landed back at the temple, everything was fine—"

“Things are fine,” the Master snapped.

“—and he just collapsed on me. He wouldn’t let me check over him—," the Padawan continued.

“There’s nothing to check, Anakin.”

Ah, yes, the infamous Master Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin.

“Obviously theroe iss.”

“Eim fignoe.”

“Stop,” I sighed and closed my eyes and opened them after centering myself. “Padawan Skywalker, please leave us.”

“B—”

“Now, please,” I urged, not bothering to give him an explanation. Not that I needed to give him one.

The Padawan made a face of displeasure before bowing to both of us and leaving the room.

“—overreacting—,” Kenobi sighed.

I blinked at him, then glanced at my droid, who filled me in on the whole sentence.

Anakin is overreacting, really.

“Master Kenobi, please sit and take off your tunics and tabards,” I ask and look away, not that it was going to matter because I was going to see him shirtless regardless.

I tried to ignore the broad expanse of his chest, littered with scars and copper hair. My eyes lingered a little too long while raking over and looking for injuries. I was just being thorough.

When I saw the wound that caused this whole ordeal I sucked in a breath quickly. The skin on his side was badly burned and the wound was at least a few days old, so naturally it had infected because he neglected to take care of it.

“It’s infected,” I shook my head almost hurriedly grabbed the large tub of bacta we kept on hand.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” He brushed off my comment, obediently lifting his arm when I nudged it.

“Have you looked at it recently?” I scoffed as I further inspected the wound.

He was silent for a moment, making me look at my droid confused as if I had missed something but the Droid confirmed that I hadn’t.

“Master Kenobi?”

“The less I acknowledged it, the easier it was to manage the pain,” he grumbled back. “And surely, you can call me Obi-Wan, we were in the crèche together.”

“That hardly constitutes a first name basis,” I squinted at him. “I don’t even recall speaking to you. They were troubling times for me, it was easier to keep to myself. Less to…process.”

“Oh, believe me, that message was loud and clear,” Obi-Wan chuckled, making me roll my eyes in an attempt to not focus on the way it lit his face up or brightened his eyes. “I also seem to remember that you were one of the best saber wielders out of all us.”

“A lot of good that did me,” I gestured to the sterile room.

“You still have the honor of humiliating an advanced saber instructor in class while being completely shut off to auditory and optical input.”

A blush rose to my cheeks, “Ho—”

“Every Padawan in the temple knew about it…”

“Well, it couldn’t have been that impressive if it wasn’t enough for the frontlines,” I slipped bitterly.

“They’re not all fun, unfortunately,” he murmured.

“I’m a guardian trapped as a healer, Obi-Wan, anything is better than this.” I took a deep breath, “Anyway, you might feel some discomfort.”

I closed my eyes and hovered my hand over the wound and focused on purging the infection first, feeling it attacking the cells around it as I finally attuned with said infection. I pulled the infection away from his body, pleased when there was no resistance and it begun to trickle away. I tilted my head as I sensed another pain but in his leg, so I investigated without breaking the healing I was already doing. The pain visualized as five red dots, the cause hard to place while my mind was otherwise occupied.

Then, it dawned on me that he was gripping his own leg so tightly as a distraction to the pain in his side that even I could feel it. Blindly, I found his knee and then his hand clenching his thigh. His hand relaxed slightly as mine touched his, allowing my hand to worm under his for him to squeeze instead. With the infection released into the force, I focused on knitting the wound back together. In response, Obi-Wan’s hand squeezed mine even tighter. If I could have sent something calming to him, I would have, but didn’t want to break my concentration when I was almost done. Instead, I let my thumb brush back and forth over his knuckles.

Finally, the wound was completely covered with new skin so I let the force healing trickle away. I blinked my eyes open, a little woozy but nothing I wasn’t used to, especially after a long day of healing.

“—that—pleasant,” I vaguely heard through the humming in my ears. It always took a while for the force to stop thrumming in my head after force healing, only amplified by my condition.

I knitted my brows at him, knowing it was anything but pleasant and then looked over at my droid.

Stars, that was not very pleasant.

“Oh, well, yes I suspect the day it becomes pleasant will be the day that Jedi actually seek out treatment, rather than avoid it,” I stressed the end just for him.

“Sorry, I should have waited until you opened your eyes.”

“It’s fine,” and really it was, I was used to it by now.

“I’m sure it gets tiring having to have a conversation with someone over their shoulder,” I didn’t get to appreciate the sincerity in his eyes because I had to glance at my droid again, only proving his point.

“Well, it was a little hard to learn to lip read growing up with Master Plo…,” my mouth turned up into a smirk, clearly trying not to laugh.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, didn’t hold back and snorted; laughing immediately after, “Sorry, sorry…”

“But, he did learn and teach me BSL, so at least I have something. Even if no one else here knows it, the droid helps. Though, in the field I don’t bring it, so I just tell everyone to shut up at let me work.”

“That’s…unfortunate.”

“It gets taxing, if only because I don’t always catch everything so conversations are hard to carry without the droid. Especially if someone starts talking to me without getting my attention first.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head like he was deep in thought, “Maker knows we learn enough languages here, they should teach BSL, too,” Obi-Wan squeezed my hand, making me realize I’d never actually let go of his hand. Though, with his hand now squeezing mine, I’d have to rip my hand away and to be honest? I didn’t want to.

“I don’t think we have anyone fluent enough to teach besides myself and Master Plo…”

“Hmm, I’d still like to present it to the Council. Someone has to be able to teach it,” he smiled gently.

I had no words to express how grateful even the thought of presenting it to the Council meant to me. So I didn’t speak. Instead, I sent my feelings of gratitude through the force and our joined hands. I took the time to read the genuine twinkle in his eyes as I hadn’t been able to this whole time, and the subtle way his eyebrows relaxed as he realized what I was doing. My eyes drifted lower to the way the corners of his eyes and cheek wrinkled just slightly with the upturn of the corner of his mouth, a subtle smile for me. Lower still, to the coppery mustache and beard on his face, with flecks of gray from the war. Or his Padawan…probably his Padawan. I let my eyes drift over the endearing way his mullet curled just behind his ears and rested against his shoulders.

He was right about one thing; I had taken for granted just looking someone in the eyes as they spoke to me. It was something that was necessary for BSL, and while Master Plo didn’t have the most expressive face, it gave me back a semblance of normalcy to be able to carry on a conversation face to face. It helped bridge the gaps between any words I had missed and ensured I had the whole picture, even going so far as to express words or ideas I was having trouble expressing with speech.

I cleared my throat, realizing I was staring far longer than I should have been, “Sorry, um, here…”

I reluctantly untangled our hands and grabbed the container of bacta, scooping a generous amount on to my fingers. I applied the cool gel to the new, pink, raw skin, which looked far better than the angry, red and purple open wound he had come in with. He jumped at the first contact, whether it was because of the cold or not, I didn’t know, but his sigh of relief after was a good sign.

I wiped my hand of and grabbed a new travel bottle of bacta for him, before pausing and grabbing two more, “Here, try not to lose these…”

He took them gratefully, knowing we normally didn’t give that much to just one Jedi, “Thank you, I—I didn’t lose mine. I gave it to my men, they needed it more.”

His men, his clones, whose health he put above his own.

“I’m not surprised,” I shook my head, “but do try to take care of yourself. They need you to lead them as much as you need them to succeed.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

My brain halted for a moment, my eyes widening slightly. This was the first real conversation I’d had with him and yet he knew my first name without hesitation.

“You shouldn’t be all the surprised, our masters were good friends after all. Master Koon, talked about you a lot with Master Jinn. He just never brought you along, I suppose,” Obi-Wan shrugged.

I hummed, “He was quite protective of me and tried to overwhelm me as little as possible…”

“I wish he had brought you, though. You would have gotten along well with Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan had a far away look in his eyes that I almost missed.

“I’m sorry, about…”

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled. “Now, I should get out of your hair lest my Padawan get into trouble.”

I stepped back to allow him to stand and handed him his discarded clothes from earlier, before turning and giving him privacy.

“Thank you,” he murmured, casually watching the droid out of the corner of his eye as it automatically translated into sign language.

When I turned back around, he was fully dressed again and stowing away the bacta in his belt, “Have a good rest of your day, Obi-Wan.” I bowed my head slightly to him.

“And you, Y/N,” he smiled, waiting for me to meet his eyes.

Thank you, he signed with a small smile adorning his face.

He bowed his head and took a a couple steps backwards and exited the room, offering a wave just before the doors closed behind him. My stomach flipped as I replayed the scene over in my head, realizing he had mimicked the droid in order to sign.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

[trulyhumblenarcissist]

Abourt Rei Himura and BNHA Chapter 301

Now that I've read the official release of chapter 301 I can finally try to gather my thoughts. I think this time the particular rendition of dialogues and inflections provided by Caleb Cook is more crisp and clear than usual, especially in throwing "shade" upon Endeavor as a father figure. But let's do things in order...

Title: THE WRONG WAY TO PUT OUT A FIRE - a simple, but stark message that doesn't leave space for ambiguity. There was a fire, an imminent tragedy that could and should have been avoided, but whoever tried to fix it, did it all wrong and now we have to deal with a huge arson.

CARLESS HANDLING OF FIRE, on the other hand, doesn't quite cut it for me, because it seems like everything was caused by a foolish mistake. "I was carless and now I'm in a pinch"- type of situation, while it's perfectly clear that Endeavor and Rei decided purposefully which "strategy" to use with Touya. A BAD one to say it lightly. Rei's contribution and complicity is debatable, of course, and I'll touch on this later.

Let me get this clear though: I'm not trying in any way to critique the hard work of unofficial translators. I can't say anything relevant because I'm not a translator in the first place (I can barely understand English and my native language on a good day) and also because I am so grateful for everything they do in order to give us really good material FREE OF CHARGE basically a second after the release in Japan. I'm just interested about the different shades of subtext we can catch if we read the story through multiple filters. Every translation is unique because it carries the personal spin of the author even if the bias should be inexistent or ideally undetectable...

However, back to the chapter

REI'S CAGE

The first scene opens on a luxurious classic Japanese villa, with Enji, Rei and her parents discussing the motivation behind Enji's proposal. Or at least we initially think that's what's going on... Because in reality Rei's family couldn't care less about the motivation. Everything these people see is a wealthy, famous guy the next number one hero ready to take their daughter in marriage. I guess the Himuras are pretty broke, thight on cash, their old prestige is definitely gone and all they can do to save themselves from shame and poverty is "to sell" their only remaining asset.

During the whole ordeal, Rei is standing still, silent, cold as ice. She knows she doesn't really have a choice. How mortifying and sad is this? An adult, capable woman has no agency whatsoever, she is used again and again and she stoically accepts this treatment from every single dominant figure in her life until she can't be stoic anymore. I really hope Horikoshi's going to give her a much more proactive role in saving her family and it seems the narrative wants us to expect this type of character development.

I'd like to point out 2 panels in particular:

First one

In this scene the Todorokis are back from their trip to the doc, who clearly said they shouldn't try to conceive a child with a perfect quirk mix because it is dangerous (and morally questionable too). Rei understands this fact and tries to dissuade Enji, but he doesn't listen, because he's projecting all his pent-up resentment and frustration onto Touya. He knows how it feels to crush against an unbreakable wall, since he can't surpass All might and his son can't too. He had to learn this truth the hard way, so Touya needs to do the same. Enji is purposefully throwing upon his son years of failures, self consciousness and despair, just because the boy has to get it into his thick skull that he is a dud, just like his father. This is not a hopeless dad making a mistake bona fide, this is a broken man trying to destroy his self reflection by proxy, annihilating everything Touya is, swiping the kid's identity under the rug. He describes his son's dreams and sadness as something birthed from stubbornness. He is auto-convincing himself however (because Endeavor is not stupid). A little bit later he's basically saying: "Touya let's play make believe! We can go on like everything I had engulfed in your psyche never existed, you're a failed attempt so you don't exist. Your needs and wants are silly and useless, nothing worth dealing with now that I can't make you my prodigy. Why don't you go play with the other failures so that I don't have to look at myself while taking actually care of you. I don't want to see you, because it's too painful, because you're a remainder of my own inadequacy."

Note: If you want to read an incredibly well done analysis about Endeavor's motives and psyche, you can get it on @thyandrawrites , she's dwelt on everything extensively and way better than me.

I really want to talk about Rei though. In the panel I showed above, her expression is a bit tricky to analyse. At first she is very vocal about her position. She doesn't want to put Touya through useless suffering, especially since they have a scientific reason not to. They have no guarantee of success with other children, besides, they could possibly have to deal with other health related issues. However, all it takes to convince her in the end is Enji's half assed attempt at the "It's for Touya's sake" shtick. Is it really? Why doesn't she question her husband anymore?

Well... I think before Natsuo, she was probably hoping Touya would let go "naturally", with time and growth, maybe by taking interest in his other siblings. Rei said she wanted to have more children because in her mind they would have supported and loved each other. Maybe she was naive enough to think that a big family full of kids few years apart from each other was all Touya needed to distract himself from his purposes... BUT and here is the point I want to get across: She was deluding herself too, much like Enji. The ugly truth, in my opinion, is that Rei is a person prone to protect herself by going with everything other people want, especially if said people are capable of hurting her. Yes, she was hurt time and time again, but what would have happened if she really tried to stop Enji?

What I am trying to say is that Rei is the kind of person who endures to survive. She holds a "captive" mentality in which, by indulging her captor's desires, she can continue living with less possibile damage. If I stay still and silent, if I don't make a scene, I can go on, I can hold onto the few things I have that actually make me happy.

Let's think about it... Enji was so obsessed with his psychotic, power-hungry quest that he would have probably disown Rei. She would have been thrown away for a more compliant woman with an ice quirk, or something similar, this resulting in her probably losing everything, the respect and love of her family (the Himuras) and also her own children. Because we know Endeavor can definitely hold a grudge and is vendicative.

So, clarifying, Rei doesn't put up a fight because she is scared for herself in a way... She is scared to be hurt in the worst possible way (by losing her little bit of serenity), so her strategy is to endure and to keep up a facade of control and purpose.

Rei, ironically just like Touya and other characters in mha, doesn't really get what unconditional love is. Her family loves her until she can be useful to the Himura name and status, her husband loves her for her quirk. Her children, however, love her for who she is and she wants to stay with them... Only to be forced to leave them later anyway.

The few times Rei actually smiles are when she is with her babies. She is a deeply loving mother in her core, but her declining mental health makes her a very lacking caregiver.

This panel, in my opinion, shows the point of no return for Rei. She can't keep the glacial facade forever...

After Natsuo's turn to be deemed a failure, Endeavor is crazier than ever, because All Might is as popular and loved as ever and he hasn't make any progress into his eugenetic games. The last two images of Rei are very telling. She is exhausted, but she knows what her husband wants from her this time too. She looks like a lifeless doll and honestly I can easily see Shouto's conception as... Non consensual and I will stop here.

Then Shouto is born, the last, perfect specimen... And Rei isn't doing much for Touya, we can see she's apparently blind towards her eldest son's distress already after Natsuo's birth... But why?

Because she is actively avoiding to face the Touya's problems too.

If Touya is still suffering, is still feeling stressed and worthless, then everything Rei has endured, everything she pretended not to feel for the sake of her family has been completely useless. What Rei cannot look at is her own parental failure, is the concrete proof that while protecting herself and her peace she did not protect her children too, because the two interests were never really aligned, even if she really believed so. She never had a functional family to preserve in the first place and everything she accepted to do was all for the sake of a false sense of belonging.

However is too easy to say she should've rebelled against Enji and dumped his sorry ass. Abuse traps you and your abuser too in a cage tricky to escape.

What I imagine will happen next chapter is one of two things:

Enji stops Touya by using brute force, probably also saying something really scarring to reinforce the notion that Shouto is the only child he cares about.

Rei stops Touya by using her quirk. This act could be considered by Touya another confirmation that even his mother actually does something by her own accord only when Shouto's safety is at risk

Necessary conclusions

I don't blame Rei for her actions too much. She is a victim turned abuser by circumstances, but more importantly she's actually taken mesures to prevent herself from hurting her children again. She's trying to heal for her family's sake, really this time. Ten years spent dealing with guilt and having actual therapy seem a good plan to me. And now she's the one ready to snap Enji back to reality.

Enji, on the other hand, is trying too. It's too little too late, but if he stops avoiding reality and hardly works on understanding his family's point of view I don't think he is completely unredeemable. I don't see him surviving his last confrontation with Touya, thought... But I could be totally wrong.

Obviously everything I've said it's my personal analysis on Rei's character, as I interpret her actions and words, so feel free to contradict me and/or to add anything you might see fit.

[samwisethewitch]

Curses and Hexes

Cursing is one of the most ancient forms of magic — and one of the most controversial. Whereas most magic is constructive (used to manifest or attract things), cursing is destructive (used to cause misfortune or harm).

Technically speaking, curses and hexes are similar but different types of spells. A curse consists of written or spoken words, sometimes combined with gestures. A hex is a ritual involving material items. However, most modern witches use the terms interchangeably, as I do in this post.

The fastest way to start a debate in any witchy community is to bring up the topic of cursing. It seems like everyone has strong opinions on the subject, either for or against. For your practice, all that matters is what you believe.

So, When Is It Okay to Curse Someone?

This is a tricky question, and the answer depends on the witch.

There are some witches who believe that intentionally causing harm or misfortune to another person is always wrong, and will never cast curses for this reason. This is an entirely valid position! If you fall into this camp, know that you’re in good company.

Other witches believe that cursing is acceptable when it’s truly warranted by the situation, such as when your life or livelihood is in danger. Others believe that cursing is simply a means to an end, and can be done with good intention (cursing your friend’s unfaithful partner to get them to stop cheating, for example).

The one thing that most witches seem to agree on is that curses are serious stuff, and should not be taken lightly. Unlike other types of magic, curses are fueled by negative emotions like hate, anger, and heartbreak. This makes them very powerful, but also very draining for the witch casting them. Cursing someone means reliving any trauma you suffered at their hands in order to use those memories as fuel for the fire. Some people aren’t willing to put themselves through such an ordeal, which again, is entirely fair.

Because curses are fueled by such strong emotions, they’re powerful and volatile. They’re like the nitro fuel of witchcraft — if you don’t know what you’re doing and aren’t careful, someone could get seriously hurt. That someone could be you.

My personal view on cursing is essentially the same as my view on physical violence. It’s not the answer to all, or even most, problems, and it sometimes makes the situation worse instead of better. It should never be your first option, but it might very well be your last resort. If someone is holding you at gunpoint, you’re entitled to use violence to protect yourself. Likewise, if someone is putting you or a loved-one in life-threatening danger, you’re entitled to use whatever magical means necessary for protection.

Before You Curse

If you think there’s someone in your life who deserves to be cursed, go through the following criteria to decide if cursing is really the most appropriate action.

Sleep on it. When we’re in the heat of the moment, we sometimes say or do things we don’t mean. If you think you’re angry enough with someone to curse them, give it a couple of days before you reach for the vinegar and chili peppers. Give yourself time to cool off and clear your head. If, after a week, you still feel like a curse is warranted, move on to the next step.

Think about your own motives. Why do you want to curse this person? What did they do to make you angry enough that you’re willing to use magic to harm them in some way? If it’s a minor annoyance, like cutting you off in traffic, a curse probably isn’t appropriate. Likewise, if your motivations are petty or catty in nature — like cursing someone because they beat you out for a promotion — I highly encourage you to stop and do some self-reflection. For one thing, you may not be able to conjure enough genuine hatred and anger for an effective curse. For another, in these situations you may find it more helpful to do some work on yourself (working on anger issues, learning to gracefully accept failure, etc.) rather than lashing out at someone else.

Ask yourself if this situation matters in the long run. It may feel incredibly important now, but try to take a step back and look at the big picture. Will this person matter in a year? Five years? Ten? Are they important enough to warrant allowing yourself to channel enough negative energy for a curse? (If this person is putting your life, livelihood, or safety at risk, the answer to all of these questions is YES!)

Make sure your anger is directed at the right person. Who is really responsible for the pain you’re feeling? For example, if your significant other cheats on you, your first reaction may be to curse the person who “stole” them from you. But you aren’t really upset with this person — you’re hurt because your partner betrayed your trust. I’m not convinced that a cheating partner is a serious enough reason to cast a curse (again, will it really matter in ten years?) but if you decide to do so, at least make sure it’s directed at the person who is truly responsible for your pain.

Consider doing a banishing instead. In situations where a person is a danger to you or your loved ones, sometimes the best option is to give them a magical push out of your life. A banishing does what the name implies — it banishes a person or thing from your life. Unlike a curse, a banishing does not cause harm or misfortune to the person being targeted. It simply removes them from your life.

You can perform a simple yet effective banishing with a piece of paper, a pen, cayenne pepper, and dried lavender. Write the name of the person or thing you want to banish on the paper. Look down at the name and say, out loud, “[Name], you are no longer welcome in my life.” Sprinkle a bit of cayenne on the paper and instruct it to burn this person out of your life. Sprinkle a bit of lavender on the paper and instruct it to bring you peace and healing. Fold the paper up to create a little packet around the herbs, then take it outside and burn it to ash. (Be careful — cayenne smoke burns!) As the paper burns say, “I banish [name] from my life, never to return.” Scatter the leftover ashes on a busy road.

Consider doing a binding instead. Maybe you don’t necessarily need someone out of your life, but you do need to take away their power to cause harm. In this case, a binding is your best bet. A binding is a spell that “binds up” someone’s power, preventing them from taking certain actions. This can be useful for dealing with people who are toxic or abusive. Like a banishing, binding does not cause harm or misfortune to the target.

You can perform a simple binding charm with a photograph of your target, a pen, and red or black thread. Write your target’s full name (or as much of it as you know) across the bottom of the photo. Look down at the photo. Say, out loud, “[Name], I bind you. I bind up your power, so that you can no longer ______.” Fold the paper up as small as possible. Then, begin to wrap the thread around the folded paper. As you do, say, “[Name], I bind you.” Continue wrapping until the thread completely covers the paper — there should be no paper visible.

For whatever reason, some people seem to have a natural resistance to banishing and binding. You may find that your spell works for a while, but the person you tried to banish/bind eventually returns to their old ways. There’s some debate about why this happens — some say it’s because these people are narcissists or energy vampires, while others think it has something to do with their force of will. Personally, I think it’s because some people are so nasty and hateful that it takes nasty, hateful magic to get rid of them for good. If you find yourself dealing with one of these people, and your banishings and bindings aren’t sticking, you may want to move on to a full-fledged curse.

Creating an Effective Curse

Okay, you’ve done your self-reflection, you’ve considered or attempted a banishing and/or binding, and you still feel like cursing is your best/only option. In that case, here are some general guidelines for making sure that your curse is appropriate, effective, and ethical.

Be VERY specific. Don’t just lob a ball of negative energy at someone and expect it to do what you want. Be very, very clear about your intent for this curse. Use precise and specific language. Make it painfully obvious what you want to happen and how you want it to unfold.

For example, when writing a petition or incantation, don’t just say, “[Name] is cursed.” Instead use something like, “Should [Name] ever contact or harass me again, he/she/they is cursed. Let him/her/them feel what I have felt and suffer as I have suffered.” You could get even more specific and detailed if you wanted to, but the important thing is to establish some basic parameters for the powerful dark energy you’re unleashing.

Make sure the punishment fits the crime. A curse to cause sexual impotence probably isn’t appropriate for an abusive boss… unless that boss is sexually harassing their employees. In that case, sticking a few pins in a rotting cucumber may be just what the situation calls for. (Yes, that’s a real curse. Yes, the cucumber represents what you think it represents.)

Making sure the punishment fits the crime also means being honest about how serious of a curse is deserved. Do you really need to ruin this person’s life to get them out of your hair, or will a mild inconvenience do? As strange as the idea of a curse being fair sounds, avoiding overkill will not only maintain balance but will keep you from expending more energy than you have to.

Make sure your curse is only affecting your target and not anyone around them. When it comes to curses, family, friends, and coworkers can sometimes get caught in the crossfire. To avoid this, make sure your spell is targeted to a specific person by personalizing it as much as possible. Include photos of your target, their full legal name (or as much of their full name as you know), and a taglock if you can get it. You may even want to include a line in your petition or incantation specifying that this curse will only affect the desired target and not their friends and associates.

Set clear conditions/parameters. The most effective curses are situational. Think of it as laying an energetic trap in or around a certain situation — this is more efficient and uses up less of your energy than if you were to just cast a blanket curse that affects every area of the target’s life. Curse parameters take the form of, “If [name] does x, they will be met with y.”

Setting parameters also makes sure your curse is truly deserved. For example, maybe your friend has an abusive ex-spouse, and you want to use a curse to keep your friend safe. If the ex-spouse is already leaving your friend alone, there’s no reason for a curse. But if they aren’t leaving your friend alone, they deserve to be met with vicious, magical resistance. For this situation, you may want to use an incantation like, “Should [ex-spouse] ever approach or contact [your friend], they are cursed with discomfort, unrest, and legal trouble. Let them be hunted and put down like a rabid dog.” This ensures that if, at any point in the future, the ex-spouse starts harassing your friend again, the curse will immediately go into action.

Don’t attach yourself to the curse. Perhaps the most important part of cursing is making sure you keep the energy of the curse separate from your own energy. Revenge is a double-edged sword, so you need to take precautions to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

Any time you cast a curse, you want to limit its connection to you as much as possible. Don’t include any of your own personal effects in the spell. You may also want to avoid using tools that hold a special place in your practice. For example, you may not want to use your altar as a place to craft curses. You may want to use materials that can be disposed of easily. Make sure to dispose of curse remains somewhere outside your home, such as at a busy road.

After casting a curse, it’s important to set aside some time for self-care. Start with a thorough cleansing. This can be as simple as taking a bath in salt water (or dumping a bucket of salt water over your head in the shower, if you don’t have a tub), but if you would rather do a full-fledged cleansing ritual, even better! It’s important to do something to remove any lingering negativity from your energy field, and to make sure the curse doesn’t attach to you in any way.

Cursing is intense, emotional, draining work. After casting a curse, take at least a few hours to rest and be kind to yourself. Eat your favorite foods. Take a nap. Read a book or watch a movie. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good.

You may want to do some inner work after cursing to help process the intense emotions involved in this kind of magic. This can be journaling, meditation, energy work, or some other healing modality. If you’ve experienced serious trauma, you may want to consider speaking to a therapist or counselor in addition to doing work on your own.

Resources:

Utterly Wicked by Dorothy Morrison

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 102 — Evil”

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Full metal jacket preference~ The boys with an s/o who has an ex that stalks them

(A combination of my gifs and other peoples)(Requested by anonymous)

(Hope you enjoy the blogs first preference post! <3)

Joker~

When you first tell James about the situation with your ex, he sort of thinks you’re joking. It certainly wouldn’t be out of place in your relationship. He figures its an “oh, yeah, my ex is stalking me” as in he’s still got a thing for you and is trying to strategically find himself at the right place in the right time in hopes that you’ll talk to him. 

Once he can see that you’re completely serious, his smile somewhat drops as well. For a while, he’ll remain humorous (i.e. trying to cheer you up and make you smile while you deal with the mess) but understanding; not wanting to freak you out even more by making it a whole big thing. He tells you to give him a call whenever you want him to stay over and that he’ll handle things as soon as he can. The next time he has the chance, he’ll have a little conversation with your ex.

James certainly has no problem standing up to or for people, and on top of that, he’s completely willing to use violence or his smart mouth to scare them off so expect an altercation of some sort when he finally spots the dickhead who’s been making your life difficult.

You’ll either wait for him to be finished or gratefully pull him away yourself before he has the chance to really mess the guy up. Once he’s calmed himself down, he’ll make a joke about being your knight in shining armor with a smile, chuckling as you roll your eyes and pull him in for a kiss.

Just Beware, from that day forward, he’ll get almost smug any time he see’s your ex in public. 

Cowboy~

Robert is; more or less, a bit more logical/mature with his attempts at diffusing the situation although it does depend on the extent of which this guy is bothering you and the responses you get. He’s more patient, giving the police a chance to do something before he takes matters into his own hands, though he certainly stays close to your side during that time.

He definitely goes full handy man on your ass and installs extra locks and alarms on your house and out of all the guys, he’s one of the most comforting. He’a a hugger so the instant you seem frightened, he’ll pull you close and assure you everything’s alright.

If the authorities™ aren’t going to do anything about it then you bet your ass he will. He’s a proud Texan and has that “if you fuck with my stuff, I will blow you away” type of mentality that most; conservative, gun owning southerners have.

He won’t go out to hunt your ex but he’ll wait for him to come to the two of you and make a good show of sitting on your porch with a sawed off shotgun in hand and a scowl on his face.

Animal mother~

Animal Mother is borderline feral when it comes to his “territory”. The instant he hears about someone bothering you, he’s fully prepared to teach them a very painful, possibly lethal lesson. There’s not even any waiting until they come around themselves; he’s going to go out and find them. 

He doesn’t find it funny at all; not on the inside at least. He might act like your ex amuses him; most likely to his face to show that he isn't scared of him, but in actuality he’s pissed. He’s two seconds away from throwing a punch at any given moment so if you don’t want that to be the outcome of their confrontation, you’ll have to try very hard to pull him away. He’s definitely the guy who scares off your ex the quickest and most effectively. 

He’ll never admit to it, but a part of him is almost proud of the predicament. He certainly isn’t happy that this guy is harassing you but he feels proud over the fact that he’s the one who has you; the girl that's so desperately sought after by this guy that he’d go to such great lengths to get close to you again. 

Though I should warn you, depending on the situation and how you explain it, the whole ordeal may make him a bit suspicious of you; at least at first. He’ll wonder why this guy isn’t leaving you alone and if you could possibly be trying to play him for a fool. We know Animal Mother isn’t the brightest or most sensitive of the bunch so don’t hold it too much against him. Once he sees how much the mans stalking is bothering you, he’ll drop those ugly thoughts and trust you completely. 

Eightball~

Alice has got a surprisingly short temper, especially when he’s being personally insulted. And when someone messes with you, he takes that as a personal attack on him. If he has the chance to confront your ex then he’ll do it, most likely scaring him off with his brutal words before he even throws a punch. 

He insists on being your escort, driving you to work, staying at your place when you want him to or when he feels like there's a need. He’ll magically seem to show up at the right place at the right time, a snarky somewhat nonchalant comment leaving his lips as he intercepts your ex and gets you behind him. He’ll try and play it cool but if the guy isn’t standing down, he’ll drop the smile and use some intimidation. 

He’ll make it very clear that you’ve moved on and if he doesn’t too, he’ll be missing a few teeth the next time he comes around you. He’s sorta cocky as your ex stalks off but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed by his smug smile, not after he just scared off the bane of your existence. 

Crazy Earl~

Earl has the ability to remain oddly calm no matter what’s going on around him. So when you tell him that your ex is stalking you, he listens carefully, nodding along before asking you what you’d like him to do in the most earnest voice you’ve ever heard. He’s willing to do whatever you want him to, all you have to do is ask. 

Another important thing about Earl: he’s sorta strange. He thinks violence is fun and dark subjects like stalking interest him. He’s a weird guy so if your ex and him ever had an actual conversation, the guy would probably leave you alone on account of you dating a lunatic. 

On that note, he’s more than happy to talk to your ex for you. He’ll confront him and; at first, try to be levelheaded albeit in his own strange way. He’s sort of just weirdly intimidating in general so even though he’s trying to talk to the guy like a normal person, he’s probably giving off serious serial killer vibes the entire time.

If things go south, or if he feels his message isn’t coming across clear enough, he’ll get violent …but in a calm way. He’ll beat your ex boyfriends ass but it’s as though he’s an outsider in the situation and isn’t personally invested in it. …Like I said, he’s strange.

Once he’s finished “talking”, he’ll return to your side and give you a kiss on the head, silently assuring you that you’re not going to be bothered again. 

Rafterman~

Although Rafterman likes to think of himself as a tough guy who isn’t scared by any man, he really isn’t very confrontational. If it really came down to it then he could certainly hold his own or get physical but he tries his best to avoid that. Instead, he’ll go with you to get a restraining order, install locks and alarms at your place or have you stay with him so that you feel more safe, but he isn’t really eager to go out and fight your ex.

He’ll make it very clear that you’re together when you’re out in public and walk you wherever you need to go so that he doesn’t have as many chances as getting close to you. If he’s forced to or he’s had enough then he’ll talk to the guy himself, telling him that he’s freaking you out and that he needs to leave you alone. 

Once he’s finished threatening the guy, he’ll come back to you sort of jittery though the kiss you give him calms his nerves and fills him with pride. He tries to act like he wasn’t nervous but you know he was and find it both cute and sweet. 

Sgt Gunnery~

Oh he’ll handle it. Handle it with a beer and shotgun pointed at the maggots face. 

It’s quite literally Gunnery’s job to put people in their place so obviously he’ll be quite efficient in his attempts at getting the boy to leave you alone. In fact, it’s very likely that the instant your ex see’s him, he’ll just book it the other way. Everyone in your town knows about the man and what he does for a living so it’s very rare that anyone messes with him; at least not on purpose. 

If your ex doesn’t immediately run away with his tail between his legs then it’s probably because he doesn’t know who he is. And when I tell you he learns fast, he learns fast. It takes all of two second for your darling drill instructor to land a blow to the boys stomach and verbally tear him in two. Obviously, after that, your ex boyfriend won’t be too keen on getting close to you anymore. 

Overall, Gunnery takes the situation very seriously and assures you that he won’t let anything happen to you. He’ll most likely teach you some self defense as well, or at the very least get you a can of mace and tell you to give him a call if anything happens, no matter how small. 

Pyle~

Leonard's a lover, not a fighter. To be entirely honest, he’s sort of useless in this situation. The only thing Leonard can really do is scare him off with his size/looks alone and get him to back off since it’s obvious that you’ve found someone else.  

I suppose that if it really came down to it, he could fight but merely because he could use his weight to his advantage. He’s not particularly well spoken or coordinated but he could throw a mean right hook if need be.

Mostly, Leonard's good for comfort. If you’re scared or upset than he’s a shoulder to cry and and arms to be held by. He may not be able to get your ex to stop but he’ll still be able to make you feel more safe and less alone. 

[pinnithin-writes]

newfound information

I have a running theory that Goemon Ishikawa is legally blind and decided to write something about it. This is some of the gayest and most pointless shit I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. 1778 words. 

“I’d like to know,” Goemon said, “what color your eyes are.”

Thick silence wrapped the room like a blanket. The scratching of Lupin’s pen on a notepad stilled. For a while, the only sound was the tic tic tic of the radiator.

“Which one of us?” Jigen asked. The leather of the couch creaked as he leaned further back in his slouch.

Today marked a full week they’d been crowded together in a drafty apartment in Zürich - the morning had passed with Jigen smoking and Lupin planning and Goemon untangling the knots within him. The coffee table had been shoved aside to make room for a cluttered spread of maps and books on the floor. The heist was days away, and Lupin was audibly puzzling out their approach as he cross-referenced the recon notes his partners had put together.

Goemon wasn’t facing either of them; he had his forehead pressed against the window, eyes unfocused. The street below their hideout was a brick red blur. I’ve never seen Switzerland before, he’d commented upon their arrival, and Lupin had chuckled at his joke.

“Both.”

“Oh,” Lupin answered brightly. “They’re brown. I thought you knew.”

He did, in fact, know they were brown. Lupin and Jigen had both mentioned their eye color to him before. There were a lot of things about his partners’ appearances Goemon had pieced together over the few years they’d been working together. 

It wasn't that he couldn’t see them at all. He just saw them at a distance that usually reduced them to a collection of colors and shapes. To Goemon, Lupin was a bell-tone laugh and a flash of bright red and a courteous hand on his elbow when he passed in the hall. Jigen was the smell of Marlboros and a longsuffering, gravelly sigh and the steady click of leather shoes on hardwood. They were whole, complete people to him already. 

But lately he’d been hungering for details he wasn’t sure he could have. Certain things that required a proximity Goemon rarely permitted. 

“What?” Jigen interjected suddenly. “They are not. They’re gray, right?”

A soft rustle as Lupin set his notepad aside. “Really, Jigen? How long have we known each other? You don’t know what color my eyes are?”

“They’re gray. I swear to god they’re gray.”

“It says ‘brown’ on my birth certificate!”

Goemon wordlessly listened to their argument as he turned away from the window. He leaned back on the sill in preoccupation, the cool glass chilling his neck. He should just ask. It beat staring at the street and dwelling on it for hours. 

He ran his thumb in distracted circles against Zantetsuken’s sheath. “Can I see them?”

“Lupin’s birth papers? I’m not sure they’re legitimate,” Jigen said, ducking quickly to avoid the pen Lupin chucked at him. It clattered harmlessly behind the couch. 

“No,” Goemon clarified sharply. “Your eyes.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence passed, which Lupin broke first. “Well, sure you can,” he answered. “Then you can vouch for me.”

Goemon imagined he was shooting Jigen a barbed look as he said this. A stack of papers shifted as he unfolded his skinny legs and stood, and then Lupin was crossing the room toward him. Goemon felt his heart rate tick up - he hadn’t expected his odd request to be honored. Lupin’s visage grew clearer as he approached, until Goemon could easily clock his lopsided smile and tweaked eyebrows. 

Lupin tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned in close. “What do you think?” he asked. “Brown or gray?”

“Hold still.”

Narrowing his eyes, Goemon raised a hand to grasp the other man’s chin, tilting his face this way and that. The light from the window fell softly on his cheeks and the slope of his nose. Lupin blinked expectantly. He was close enough that Goemon could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

Gray was his first impression. Silver, really, like a pair of shiny round coins. Lupin’s gaze was restless, darting back and forth between Goemon’s own eyes as he allowed himself to be examined. His skin was startlingly soft.

“Hold still,” he ordered again, tugging Lupin closer.

This time, Lupin obeyed, fixating on a single point and staying there. His previously cheeky grin disappeared when his jaw went slack, and Goemon felt a tiny puff of air as Lupin exhaled. 

He could see now that his irises were also flecked with shades of brown, ringing his pupils in a lovely starburst. Goemon studied Lupin’s eyes a moment longer, taking note of how they settled from ink to fawn to ash from the center out, committing the image to memory.  He observed his facial structure - how it was soft and sharp all at once, unique and conspicuous. Lupin’s fondness for disguise made more sense to him now.

Goemon was sure the man could hear his pulse thudding in his neck at this point, so he finally released him. “Both,” he said conclusively. “Probably varies with the light.”

Lupin was slow to step away, cheeks rosy. “Oh,” he managed to say. “So… we were both right.”

“Indeed.”

Jigen was uncharacteristically quiet from where he watched on the couch. Goemon heard him tap ash idly from his cigarette before taking a contemplative drag. “Sounds like a cop out to me,” he murmured as an afterthought. 

Goemon slanted him a glance. “You could see for yourself,” he challenged, brows raised.

“I’ve seen ‘em already,” he grumbled. 

Lupin took another step back, melting out of focus to his usual blur of black and red, and folded his arms. “Jigen, dear, I believe it’s your turn.”

Jigen coughed. “Excuse me?”

“You're up next. Let the man see your eyes.”

Sensing his hesitance, Goemon’s mouth softened from its steady set line. “Only if you want-” 

“No,” Jigen was already interrupting him. “I’ll do it.”

The couch protested as he leaned to set his cigarette in the ashtray, elongating into a dark capital I when he stretched and stood. The approaching tap of his shoes was slow and familiar.

“No need to look so nervous,” Lupin teased, leaning impishly into Jigen’s personal space as he pulled to a stop.

Goemon prodded Lupin out of the way with the sheathed end of his sword, resting it against his sternum in a silent warning. Lupin retreated, smirking, while Jigen drew in an almost imperceptible breath and let it out slow. The same technique he used before pulling the trigger on an impossible shot. Goemon reached to remove his fedora with as much care as he could, pressing it delicately against his chest.

“Hold this, please.”

Jigen nodded. The tips of his fingers trembled where they touched the felt.

“His eyes are definitely gray,” Lupin commented, angling his chin at Jigen. “Oh my god, are you shaking?”

Goemon gave Lupin a pointed tap with Zantetsuken in lieu of reprimand. He fell silent.

Out of respect for his trepidation, Goemon was gentler with how he handled Jigen’s face, nudging his jaw one way and then the other with the backs of his knuckles. Stubble prickled his skin. He was struck by how sharp his cheekbones were at this distance; he had never really noticed their prominence before. He was certain they’d draw blood if he ran his thumb against them.

Jigen’s eyes were significantly darker than Lupin’s. Storm clouds gathered around his pupils, shades of slate and black bleeding into one another. Instead of meeting Goemon’s stare, he determinedly stuck his gaze at an indiscriminate point somewhere past his left ear. These were marksman’s eyes, sharp and steady and missing nothing. Shame he hid them under his hat all the time.

Goemon dropped his hand from Jigen’s face. “They are gray,” he agreed. 

The swiftness with which Jigen stepped back and replaced his headwear was possibly the fastest he’d ever seen him move. He cleared his throat, adjusting the hat’s brim. “Great. Glad we worked that out.”

Lupin jabbed him with an elbow. “Congrats on surviving the ordeal.”

Jigen grumbled something indistinct, tipping his chin and hiding his eyes further. 

Goemon kept his expression carefully neutral. Now that he possessed this newfound information, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He had learned quite a bit more about the others than intended; not only about their appearance, but their mannerisms, as well. Their relationship with closeness. He didn’t know there was a way to turn off Lupin’s motor mouth. He didn’t know Jigen became so mystified when touched.

These were things he would file away for later, additional pieces for the frustrating jigsaw that was his feelings.

“Thank you,” he uttered finally.

“No problem,” Jigen responded at the same time Lupin said, “That’s what we’re here for.”

Goemon scoffed with disbelief. “Is it?”

Lupin paused and moved out of the way to allow Jigen passage. Goemon caught a whiff of smoke - he must’ve resumed his previous task of mangling the cigarette he’d been working on. Lupin leaned easily against the window beside Goemon, not as close as before but close enough he could tell the master thief was examining him. Embarrassment creeping into the back of his neck, Goemon lifted a prompting eyebrow in his direction.

“Sure it is,” Lupin went on. “I ask you two for weird favors all the time. It’s only fair.”

“Hm.” Goemon was skeptical.

“We’re a team,” he insisted. “It’s good for a team to know each other really well. Right?”

“...Right.”

“Useful for recognizing each other in disguise.”

Grateful for Lupin’s valiant effort to spare his dignity, Goemon allowed a small smile. “Sure.”

Lupin grinned back, tilting his head to the side until his temple touched the windowpane. “I’d never really looked at your eyes this close before, either,” he admitted, some of the bravado leaving his voice. “They’re really… intense. Super dark.”

“Pretty,” Jigen added around the cigarette in his mouth.

“Pretty,” Goemon echoed, caught off guard by the compliment.

“Pretty scary,” he clarified hastily, and Goemon couldn’t hold back a soft laugh.

Silence settled on the group, introspective rather than discomfited. Goemon’s heart rate was beginning to return to normal. The atmosphere in the room had shifted into something thick and unnameable, and he was definitely responsible for the change, but it didn’t feel bad. Just new. Unfamiliar. And while Goemon was out of his depth, it was reassuring  to know the others were just as bad at navigating this as he was.

“So,” Lupin clapped his hands together emphatically. “That was a nice break. Let’s get back to business, shall we?” He swept a gesture at the paper nightmare on the floor.

The team murmured their assent, but not much else was accomplished that day. 

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Sometimes your best friend calls you at 3 am because his citizenship isn’t valid anymore, his marriage not legally acknowledged, and he kind of needs to marry you so he isn’t kicked out of the country. A comedy of errors in which Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padmé don't take the long road to becoming a family, but certainly the most complicated one. Marriage of convenience, ObiAniDala style.

Read on AO3!

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

- Bruno Mars, Marry You

There were many things Obi-Wan didn’t expect at 3 am, such as somebody breaking into his house, which was possible but unlikely, or the apocalypse finally starting, which was impossible and unlikely. Mostly, he didn’t expect anything because he had grown out of his wild university student years and went to bed at reasonable hours so he was fast asleep at 3 am.

However, panicked calls from Anakin Skywalker were kind of normal.

Not that they should be, but they happened much more frequently than Obi-Wan cared to admit. Whether Anakin was fifteen or twenty-five, nothing much had changed in that time, not even the ringtone of Obi-Wan’s phone for him, only its model.

Tiredly, Obi-Wan reached for his phone in the dark, finding it somewhere on his night table.

“Hello?” he muttered into the speaker, not quite coherent yet.

“Obi-Wan!”

At the sound of Anakin’s panicked voice, Obi-Wan immediately sat up, all exhaustion forgotten. Over the years, the kind of tone Anakin’s voice reached when he was alarmed, had become an immediate trigger for Obi-Wan, forcing him to operate as if he were ready to give a three-hour lecture on the integration of the sonnet into English poetry.

“Anakin, is everything alright?” he asked, unnecessarily, as Anakin immediately began babbling over Obi-Wan.

“Can you come over, right now, we need your help.”

It took Obi-Wan barely a split second to register what exactly Anakin was asking. He glanced at the clock – it was the middle of the night. What could have happened- He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Are the twins alright?”

The only thing Obi-Wan could think of was that something had happened to the twins. The six-months-olds had had quite the ordeal behind them already. They had been born too early and Padmé, already weakened by the difficult pregnancy, had struggled during the birth. There had been too many complications and Obi-Wan still remembered that horrendous night, the long hours sitting next to Anakin in the waiting room, not knowing what was happening to Padmé.

And afterwards, he had spent quite a few nights over at their cramped home – meant for two adults, not two adults and two babies – helping them out. Padmé had rested and recovered while Anakin had cared for the children and her, and Obi-Wan had just made sure that everything in-between had run smoothly. Anakin and Padmé both had thanked him countless times already, but Obi-Wan didn’t know what for. They were his best friends, he was the twins’ godfather. If he didn’t come to help them, what kind of friend was he?

“No, the twins are alright,” Anakin reassured him immediately, though his voice didn’t lose any of its panic. “I just- I need to marry you. Kind of right now immediately, preferably before the weekend is over.”

“What.” Obi-Wan thought he had misheard. “Anakin, what are you talking about?”

“Can you just-“

Anakin’s voice faded from the speaker. Obi-Wan could hear some bickering, then a new person spoke. Padmé’s voice was lighter, higher than usual as well, but not quite as panicked as Anakin’s.

“Hello, Obi-Wan. Sorry for disturbing you at this hour but we have a problem. Could you be so kind and come over?”

“…Sure,” Obi-Wan replied after a pause. “Could you just give me ten minutes to get dressed?”

“You have still got some of your clothes here,” Anakin‘s voice rang out again, before he suddenly yelped and hissed, muttering something about sharp elbows. “Just- hurry, please.”

X

And so it came to be that Obi-Wan, dressed because he was not a heathen and it was chilly at night still, walked out of his house at three in the morning, and jumped into his car to drive downtown to the little apartment near the university campus that Anakin and Padmé shared. They had been meaning to move out since before they had even learned Padmé was expecting, but they hadn’t had the funds at first and then the time and now they were still living there. They were planning to move once the twins were a little older and easier to handle, but Obi-Wan already foresaw that this wouldn’t be any easier for them.

When he pulled into their street, Anakin was already standing in front of their house, dressed in an oversized hoodie and long, dark pants that were much too warm for this weather. The desert kid in Anakin would always make him freeze at all times. Summertime was alright, but during winter Anakin was always the first to get sick and cold and be absolutely miserable all around. He then always took great pleasure in sticking his hands and feet beneath the next warm willing body. Or unwilling if Anakin was sure you loved him enough to let him put his freezing hands on you.

Obi-Wan parked his car and was not even halfway out it when Anakin grabbed his hands and pretty much dragged him inside and then up through the staircase to his apartment. He didn’t say a word as he opened up the door, but his expression was concerning enough.

The apartment was slightly messier than when Obi-Wan had last seen it, clothes, photos, and documents alike flying around everywhere.

“So,” Obi-Wan asked as he looked around. “What is going on?”

Anakin opened his mouth, ready to let it all fall from his lips, but then shut his mouth and shook his head so that instead of replying, he was pushing Obi-Wan into his and Padmé’s bedroom. The bedroom was the biggest room in their small apartment. Their living room also doubled as offices and the kitchen was just cramped enough that it was full when you stood there with two people, doing absolutely nothing. In comparison to that, the bedroom was giant, even if it didn’t look like it with the wardrobe, bed, and the twins’ crib in it.

The babies were sleeping soundly in their crib while Padmé was sitting upright on the bed, her laptop in front of her, and another stack of documents lying around her.

“Good morning, Padmé” Obi-Wan greeted her.

She just smiled tiredly at him and waved.

“Morning, Obi-Wan, and sorry for all of this.” She gestured towards the documents and then at Anakin, who had already dropped on the bed, his head now resting on Padmé’s lap.

“Nothing I’m not already used to,” Obi-Wan replied, kicked off his shoes, and sat down next to Anakin’s legs. The first couple of times he had been around, he had been uncomfortable claiming a spot here, but he had long since gotten used to it.

“So,” he repeated his earlier question. “What is going on and why do I need to marry Anakin?”

“We have run into a major problem,” Pamdé said. “We got mail this morning. Yesterday morning.”

She paused and glanced at the watch on her wrist before sighing and handing Obi-Wan one of the papers he accepted quickly. “Anyway, we got mail from the state saying that Anakin has to leave the country next week or face legal consequences.”

“What?” Obi-Wan replied. “Wait, how can that be?”

He glanced down at the letter Padmé had given him, and true enough, it was an official one.

Obi-Wan was well aware that Anakin’s citizenship hadn’t always been in the clear. His mother had been brought to this country as a worker with no documents or even the right to decide what to do with herself. Anakin’s documents had been equally shady right up until Obi-Wan’s father had cleared them up. It was how they had met – Qui-Gon Jinn introducing little Anakin Skywalker and his mother, the latest cases of immigrants his law firm was helping, to Obi-Wan. The then 9-year-old Anakin had latched onto Obi-Wan pretty quickly. They had been friends ever since and gone through thick and thin together and some not so pretty years as well.

But all in all, Anakin shouldn’t have any trouble with his citizenship, especially not now. And if Anakin had trouble, Shmi would certainly as well.

“I don’t know!” Anakin said and threw up his hands. “We already called the residents’ registration office but they said that due to some-” He waved his hands, replacing the legal jargon with gestures. “-they don’t count anymore because they were bound to some temporary stay. I have no idea.”

Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair. He knew some of the goings-on tied to immigration laws due to his father, but not all of them. However, he was still sure that whatever was going on here, it wasn’t correct.

“Okay, but we can get those renewed. It’s terrible right now, but we can file in a complaint and fight the order. It might take a few months, but I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Anakin only shook his head. “I don’t have a few months. It’s out now or fines or prison or something and we don’t exactly got the money.”

“But you’re married?” Obi-Wan frowned and looked at Padmé whose face had twisted into something dark and angry like he’d never seen before.

“That’s the second thing we’re wondering about. Our marriage, apparently, is not legally binding. And they just discovered it. Again, it’s something about my citizenship and the fact that we didn’t marry here but in Naboo. It’s freaking ridiculous but whenever we ask or try to inquire what we can do, I get told to go back to where I came from like I ever actually came from anywhere on Tatooine!”

Anakin’s voice got a little louder and they froze when suddenly a quiet whine rang out in the room. Simultaneously, the three of them turned to look at the crib.

“Oh, no, no, no-“ Anakin muttered and moved to get up, but Obi-Wan was quicker and closer.

“I’ll get them,” he said and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Obi-Wan stood up and walked over to the crib, picking up Leia first who stared up at him with her brown eyes. Their newborn blue coloring had darkened after only a couple weeks already, but Luke’s were still as blue as Anakin’s.

“Hey, little lady,” Obi-Wan whispered, holding Leia close before he gave her to Padmé. Then, turning around, saw that Luke was watching him as well.

“You too, darling?” He asked and took him into his arms before sitting down on the bed again, careful so that he wasn’t shaking Luke awake. With both children settled into Padmé and Obi-Wan’s arms, Anakin continued.

“So, the bottom line is, I don’t have anything that says I’m a Coruscant citizen or married to Padmé so the only thing we could think of was that I get married to somebody who has citizenship and therefor get to stay here like that until we figure out what’s actually going on.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry to spring this on you like this but we are kind of desperate here. And if I don’t have citizenship and something happens to Padmé, the twins-“

Anakin doesn’t even have to say it out loud. Obi-Wan would know exactly where the twins would go.

“This is horrible,” he said. “And truly nothing else has worked out? Have you called any lawyers?”

“About a hundred,” Padmé sighed. “None of them can help and we couldn’t reach your father either.”

Right, Qui-Gon was on a humanitarian trip on… Obi-Wan didn’t even know. He hadn’t spoken to his father in a while, not since their last big fight. He really hadn’t been in the mood to put up with him.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said, letting the thought take shape in his mind. “So, marriage?”

“Just for a short while,” Padmé reassured him. “It doesn’t have to be for long, only until we can get this sorted out again and then you can get divorced and we’ll bake you another cake as a thank you. We are really sorry about this and I know it sounds stupid but-“

“Hey, none of this is your fault,” Obi-Wan replied and with his one free arm, gently squeezed Padmé’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, marrying Anakin isn’t the worst thing I have done out of the blue.”

Anakin only eyed him suspiciously and Obi-Wan couldn’t help grinning. Anakin knew some of the really dumb things Obi-Wan had gotten into, but not all of them.

“How is this not the worst you have ever done,” Anakin echoed. “You’re marrying me so I can stay in the country.”

Obi-Wan could think of plenty of other things and was suddenly, for once, very happy he could use Anakin’s obliviousness to cheer him up.

“You don’t know what Quinlan and I got up to in our youth.”

“The more you mention it, the more do I think that I really don’t want to know it either,” Anakin muttered, shaking his head. Then he took a deep breath, eyes closed. A moment passed and only then he continued speaking. “But- you’ll do it-?”

“Of course, Anakin. You’re my best friend. How could I not help you out?” Obi-Wan watched the baby sleeping soundly in his arms, entirely unaware of the troubles his parents were in. They had gone through enough chaos in the last year, the least he could do was help them out. “When do you need to get married?”

“Tomorrow morning. Or today. At least if we want the paperwork to go through smoothly and quickly enough.” Anakin looked at Padmé who nodded in confirmation.

“And we’ll need somebody to marry us- Oh, hell, where will we even get somebody to marry us on such short notice?”

It was late spring, the season most couples decided to get married. The offices would be full and getting somebody who could marry them even just today-

Obi-Wan blinked.

“Quinlan is ordained.”

“What?”

Padmé and Anakin stared at him with deadpan expressions. Obi-Wan supposed this would make more sense to them if the two had spent more time around Quinlan than just a couple hours whenever their paths crossed at Obi-Wan’s birthday parties. His childhood friend was a wild spirit and Obi-Wan still wasn’t exactly sure what his job was, he seemed to change it every month. He did, however, have an amazing repertoire of skills and being ordained was just amongst them. He had married Luminara and Shaak Ti a couple of years back.

“I can call him,” Obi-Wan offered.

“Right now?” Padmé raised her brow. “Don’t you think he’ll be mad?”

“He’s used to such things,” Obi-Wan replied. “Kind of the same way I’m used to getting called from you at 3 in the morning, Anakin.”

Anakin had the decency to smile sheepishly.

“Are you sure?” Padmé continued. “This can wait until morning-“

“Except that it really can’t,” Obi-Wan interrupted her softöy. “Not if we want to make sure this is airtight.”

With some trouble as he was still holding Luke, Obi-Wan fished his phone out of his pants’ pocket and searched for Quinlan’s contact. Once he found it, he dialed the newest phone number he had, hoping it was still the correct one. It rang a couple of times before the other accepted the call and Obi-Wan put him on speaker.

“Obi-Wan!” Quinlan shouted, slightly slurring Obi-Wan’s name. “My man! What’s going on?” In the background, Obi-Wan could hear loud music. Quinlan must be out partying then. Obi-Wan hadn’t even known that there were clubs that were open on a Wednesday night at this hour still. But then again, their city had a very large university district.

“Quinlan, are you still ordained?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Am I still my main? Main what? Video game character?”

“Ordained,” Obi-wan repeated patiently. “Can you marry people?”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Just got my license renewed last week. Who needs to get married?”

“Me,” Obi-Wan said. “And Anakin Skywalker? Tall, blond, blue eyes, math genius-“

“I know your other half, Obi-Wan, honestly. And holy, shit, you’re finally marrying him?”

Obi-Wan paused to look up from his phone into the faces of Padmé and Anakin who looked just as confused as him.

“What do you mean finally-“ Obi-Wan stopped. Honestly, it didn’t matter. “Yes, sure. We need to get married tomorrow morning. Well, today actually. Is that possible?”

“Sure, I just need to get some documents from the department and it’ll be done. I need your ID and that’s about it. Any preferences for a location? There is this super neat gazebo in the main park. It’s a little out of the way so there are no people, would be great for wedding phots- holy fuck, does your father even know? Or is he still stuck in... where is he again?”

“Does it matter?” Obi-Wan replied. “Look, I just need to get married as soon as possible.”

“Okidoki, I’ll come to your house then? Or to that park?”

“We’ll l meet you at the park,” Anakin spoke up.

“Oh! Hey Anakin! You here as well?”

Padmé raised her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter, but Obi-Wan doubted it mattered. Quinlan probably wouldn’t even hear it over all that background noise.

“Obi-Wan, put you on speaker,” Anakin said meanwhile.

“Cool, cool, see you tomorrow morning then at... what time?”

The earlier they got it done, the better, Obi-Wan figured. “What time are you up again?”

“Club closes at five, so, we can do this at six? No, wait. Eight. I need the documents.”

“Eight it is then,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Good night, Quinlan, have fun and see you then.”

“Bye-bye!”

Obi-Wan ended the call and stared at his phone just a moment longer. This had not gone as he had expected, somewhere in the back of his mind he thought it should be more difficult to get married, and yet, somehow, it apparently was all working out correctly.

“So, that’s it?” Anakin asked shakily.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered. “That’s it.”

He thought he should feel weird about it, he had never considered marriage before in any capacity, but instead, all Obi-Wan could feel was relief.

“Oh, thank the heavens,” Anakin muttered and then pretty much threw himself at Obi-Wan as carefully as he could without waking Luke in the process. He wrapped obi-wan in a tight hug, the kind where he buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and didn’t let go for a while. “Just, thank you so much.”

“No problem, Anakin. Anything for you, dear one.”

“No, really,” Padmé said. “We can’t thank you enough. You have been helping out with the twins and now this and- we can never make this up to you.”

“I’d never ask you to make it up to me because you don’t have to.” Trying to ease the tension of this situation somewhat, Obi-wan smiled softly. “I’ll be content with some more cake. You’re mother’s recipe?”

Anakin laughed, still a little shaky, but he didn’t look like hell anymore at least.

“That one? Sure, I can make that,” Anakin answered. “It’ll be our wedding cake then. Then I’ll have eaten it twice at my own wedding already. Not that it’s a lot, but it’s still kind of weird to have done it twice.”

He then carefully took Luke from Obi-Wan’s arms and then lied down on the bed again, the baby still asleep on his chest. “I think I’ll stay just like this until this is over.”

“Maybe get some proper sleep instead?” Obi-suggested. “You need some rest after this stress.. both of you,” he added, pointedly looking at Padmé.

“We’ll be fine, we always are,” she said. “And you should get some sleep as well.”

Obi-Wan stood up and stretched. ��I will, I’m already missing my bed.”

His two friends immediately frowned at him, their expressions easily telling Obi-Wan that they were not agreeing with the decision he had reached just now.

“You’re not driving home now, it’s bad enough we made you come here at this hour,” Padmé insisted. “Besides bed is big enough, you can sleep here with us.”

“I don’t want to impose-“

“You’re not imposing.”

“The sofa then-“

“Obi-wan,” Anakin inserted. “Don’t make me tie you to the bed again.”

Padmé looked at them both, then began to grin. “Honestly, your conversations are a delight to listen to out of context. But really, Obi-Wan, our sofa sucks. You know our sofa sucks. We’ll just put the twins to sleep again in the crib and you can fit in here.”

Obi-Wan thought about complaining for another second, but he’d only lie to himself. He didn’t want to drive home now. He was incredibly tired and the risk of falling asleep while driving now that all the adrenaline had left him was not as low as it should be.

“Fine,” he finally admitted defeat.

And then, as before, he took Luke from Anakin’s arms and put him back in his crib, then he took Leia from Pamdé’s arms and set her down next to her brother. The twins looked absolutely adorable and already much bigger than they had when they had come from the hospital. Seeing them grow up healthy was a greater comfort than anything else.

Obi-Wan then stepped out of his pants, contemplating keeping on his socks in case Anakin decided his feet were cold and took them off anyway, and kept his shirt. Obi-Wan walked away from the crib towards the light switch and turned it, drowning the room in pitch black. He stumbled across the ground towards the bed and crawled under the banket. It was, as expected, heavier and warmer than anything he would sleep in.

He laid down on the left side of the bed, his back to Anakin, who took great pleasure in immediately tangling his legs with Obi-Wan’s while wrapping his arms around Padmé.

“Good night,” he said and yawned.

“Good night,” the couple replied.

And the three of them fell into a sleep next to one another.

[darlingpeter]

grayscale.

the reader faces the aftermath of losing a close friend, and sweet boyfriend matt knows just how to get through to you when you need another perspective.

this fic is a labor of love. although this story is fictional, please know that you are never alone in the hardships that you are facing, and there is a wonderful community of people out there whose inboxes and messages are always open if you need advice, to vent, or just to get bad stuff off of your chest. you are worthy of love and the space and support that you need to heal. 

pairing: matt murdock x reader, best friend jessica jones x reader

warnings: reader is going through some emotional bad times

length: 2,405 words

Everyone knows that grief is an important part of life. As you grow, you lose people, and the lessons that you learn from it are necessary to truly appreciate what you have while you have it. 

But no one talks about how hard it is to grieve someone who hasn’t died. 

In the first stages, you found yourself getting absorbed in the what ifs, cycling over and over again in your head about things you could have done differently that would have changed their mind somehow and made them value you as much as you did them. Even worse was fighting the urge to reach back out to them in an attempt to rekindle something similar to what you had before. But the rational part of your brain constantly steered you away from that because how would that be possible? You couldn’t pretend to ignore everything bad that had come into light and keep a good conscience at the same time. A similar end would be inevitable, and it would hurt just the same if not more the second time around. 

Matt was aware of what you were going through. He listened as you poured your heart out to him, brought you water and tissues when you could do nothing but cry, and was there to make sure that you were taken care of. If he sensed a bit of hesitation in your voice if you asked him for anything, he would remind you in a gentle tone that made your heart flutter that he was there for you in any way that you needed. Over time, though, you closed off to him. You couldn’t help but feel like your emotional outbursts were an annoyance to him since he already had so much else to worry about outside the walls of your shared apartment. Unbeknownst to you, when you started changing the subject and brushing him off whenever he asked about how you were feeling, he knew that he was going to have to make a call to the one person he knew would be able to talk sense into you. 

The first time that he invited Jess and Luke over since things changed, you were initially wary of being forced to socially interact, but after you changed into clean, comfy clothes, had a shower, and actually got to be face-to-face with your best friends for the first time in far too long, you started to feel better than you had in a long time. 

Luke had taken control of a speaker that you had in the apartment, showing you and Matt a few new artists that he had been getting into, and with the way that Jess hummed and sang along to the lyrics, you knew that you weren’t the first to hear him gush about the new finds. You ordered Pizza and sat around shooting the shit with one another. 

When you popped into your room to grab an extra blanket, the sound of the door closing softly surprised you, and you turned to see Jess with a sympathetic smile on her face. Your mood soured. You had a feeling that she was going to want to talk to you with the comforting look in her eyes that she had been fixing you with since she had arrived with Luke. “Red told us that you had a bad falling out with a close friend. How’re you holding up, kid?” She asked and instinctively, you bristled. At this point you had been packing everything down and trying to avoid thinking about the situation altogether, which made it sour and turn to irritability where it sat within you. You scowled, annoyed at the fact that she wanted to stir up the difficult emotions that you had been working hard to hide. Seeing this, Jess raised both of her palms to face you in a surrendering gesture. “Easy, babe. I just want to make sure that everything’s alright.” She said softly.

Frustrated, you folded the blanket a couple of times in your hands. “It is.” You said shortly.

Jess frowned. “We both know that’s not true.” Sometimes you hated how easily she saw straight through you. She sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the spot next to her, inviting you to join. “He didn’t tell us the full story, but I know you, and I know from what he told me that I would be having a rough time, so I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with right now.” You take the spot next to her and lean into her side, letting out a deep exhale when she wrapped her arm around you and gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. When you relaxed into her after a moment, she knew that she had worn away the stubborn act that you put on. “I know that Matt isn’t the best when it comes to talking about feelings, and I want to give you the space that you might need to talk about things a little more in depth with someone that might be able to communicate a little better about understanding what you’re going through. Or you could just lay on me, which is cool too.” She finished with a small laugh.

For a moment, you considered just sitting in silence for a few moments before rejoining the group, but the longer that you sat against Jess, the bigger the knot in your chest grew until you were squeezing your eyes shut and fighting tears that were starting to well up. “I’m tired of being sad.” You said, hating how small and watery your voice sounded. “I wish I could forget everything about what happened so I could stop carrying around this weight with me.” 

And then you were crying. The more you tried to suppress it the stronger it came on, and the more your breath came in hiccups from your chest, so you stopped trying to hide it and instead opened the floodgates on your best friend. You told her the full story, about what caused the falling out and how hard it had been to adjust, as well as how angry you had been feeling with yourself for not being able to move past it. You told her about how you didn’t want to continually bother Matt so you had started to bottle things up. Even though you knew that it wasn’t the best way to deal with things, but you had hoped that in doing so, it would just pass over and make the whole ordeal easier. 

Jess listened to what you had to say, but also offered some advice. Because of how close the two of you were as well as how blunt and honest she was, Jess was the queen of getting through to you and telling you things that you didn’t want to hear.“The quickest way to get through this is to feel what you need to feel completely and wholly. By not tackling it head-on, no matter how much better it seems in the moment, it’ll eat at you and cause a lot more hurt over time.” This stung, mostly because you knew that she was right. You had been able to witness a small taste of what she was talking about already, and the thought that the bitterness you had been feeling had the potential to grow and have the chance to cause outbursts that could push the people you loved away. You nodded as she gave your shoulder a squeeze. 

“But I don’t want to feel like I’m burdening Matt with my problems.” You whined, digging the heels of your hands into your damp eyes and rubbing at them in exasperation. “I’m scared he’ll start avoiding me because he doesn’t want to hear me complain about my garbage when there’s nothing that he can do.”

To your surprise, Jess barked out a laugh, and you looked up at her with a glare. “Were you not just telling me how he was going total mama-bird over you when things were bad?” You deflated and shrugged, caught by your own words. “Just because you’re the only one who can work through this in your own brain doesn’t mean that you’re struggling alone. We’re all gonna support you in the ways that we know how. And if you’re worrying about the way that Matt is doing it, maybe that’s something that you should talk to him about and make sure that you’re getting the support that you need and that he’s not feeling burned out.”

Nodding, you let her advice sit with you as you leaned against her, letting her hug you from the side while you listened to Matt and Luke’s music muffled through the bedroom door. When you finally straightened up and let her arm fall from your side, Jess gave you a supportive look. “Feeling ok?” She asked.

“A lot better.” You responded, which made Jess give a little cheer that made you smile. “Thank you for… everything.” You said, unsure how to put into words your gratitude for making the effort to get through to you when you were so resistant off of the bat.

She bumped you with her shoulder with a playful grin. “Of course, kid. I’ve always got you. Now let’s go make sure those two haven’t finished off the pizza or torn the place up to bad out there, yeah?” 

Grabbing the blanket from where you had put it down and following Jess back into the main living area feeling much lighter. 

~

After the night that Jess and Luke stopped by, things started to feel like they were getting better. Her advice made you feel like you could dig yourself out of the hole that you found yourself in. You were able to sit down with Matt and express the things that you were worried about, and with that line of communication opened up, you felt free to check in with him when you were concerned that he was being overloaded. Fortunately, after that chat, you were able to go about life more freely than you felt you had been able to in weeks, and after a few weeks you were able to look a short ways into the past and be proud of how far you had come.

However, your good mood unfortunately broke. 

Out of nowhere one morning, you woke up under a wave of depression. You tried to get up and go about things as usual, but disinterested and suddenly exhausted, you ended up back in bed curled in on yourself. After what felt like hours of drifting in and out of sleep and checking your phone, you heard the door open, and you looked to see Matt poke his head into the room. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

At the sound of his voice, tears started welling up in your eyes and you blinked hard to try and keep them from falling. You made a sound of acknowledgement that came out more like a whimper, and his eyes widened, his brow furrowing in concern as he stepped fully into the room. “Oh no,” he cooed softly, padding across the floor to the bed. “No, no, no.” He climbed under the covers on the empty side of the bed facing you.“Talk to me.” He hummed, delicately thumbing away a tear from your cheek.

You almost didn’t want to tell him why you were sad. You had been doing so well! You didn’t want him to pity you for not being able to get over the loss, but you know that if you made up a lie on the spot that he would be able to tell, so you took a steadying breath. Damn his senses. 

“I don’t know why it hit me like this again.” You told him, trying hard to keep your voice steady. “I thought I was done with this.” 

At the admission, your face grew hot with shame and you sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Hey, hey, none of that.” Matt murmured, pulling you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest and took hold of his t-shirt, taking in the scent of the cotton and his laundry detergent and grounding yourself in it to keep your mind from spiraling further down. 

“I’m embarrassed.” You whispered, and Matt shushed you, removing your hand from his shirt so that he could raise it to his mouth and press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I know that it’s hard to feel like you’ve made progress only to be set back, but dealing with grief is never a linear process.” He told you, brushing some of your hair back from your face. “Things like this take time, and bad days will happen even after things have been good for a while. But I promise you that things will get better, and that these reminders will start to sting a lot less as it goes on.”

It was silent as you lied together, him listening to your heartbeat return to normal, and you thinking about what he had said while your tears dried. When you finally made a move to get up, Matt’s arm around your waist tensed as he held onto you and kept you from budging. You were only able to let out a confused sound before he took your jaw in his free hand and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You raised your hands to his stubbly cheeks, and he leaned into your touch, a look in his eyes that was reassuring. “What was that for?” You asked.

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his face as he ran a calloused thumb across your bottom lip. “I just wanted to know you were smiling.” 

That you were. For the first time all day, you felt almost giddy as you giggled, pressing a quick peck to his smiling mouth. “You’re so soft.” You teased, climbing out from under the covers and stretching. 

“Just for you.” He replied, swinging his legs over the side and following your lead. When he got close, you stepped forward and wrapped him in a proper hug. You squeezed him, trying to find the right words to thank him, but with the way that he squeezed you back, you knew that you didn’t need to say anything at all. “You’ve got this, sweetheart.” He said quietly.

And for the first time in a while, you full-heartedly believed it.

~

masterlist

a/n: hello wonderful people! i’m back to classes and with structure comes more ways to work writing into my schedule! i’m working on a couple of wips right now, but my inbox and messages are open to new requests if you’re interested in dropping me something! 

any feedback is appreciated as always!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work, and every note this gets makes my day! :-)

taglist (open): @krazy-katt-lady​ @occasionallygiveadamn​ @rotisserierogers @howlingbarnes​ @peculiar-persephone​

[sleevesareforlosers]

Do you have favorite fics you've read?

oh shit okay! In no particular order:

Zones (Directors Cut) by @headless-killjoys

It's then that the real problem rears its head.

"I need to get the fuck out of here." Ghoul says.

And Kobra understands.

---

(Or: Ghoul and Kobra travel out to the edge of the zones to get out of their heads, and Ghoul briefly deals with the terrifying ordeal of being known.)

funkobra in a REALLY cool au and just? beautifully written

all i want for christmas (is you) by @ghostxraven

It’s Nutcracker Season! 

ballet au funpoison, SUPER cute and actually so sweet and soft

Steady As It Goes In Eden by @theultravs

Party Poison doesn't know how things got so bad, but things did. Without the rebellion, they're depressed, abandoned, and hopeless, traveling the Zones looking for something that'll make them feel anything. And now with nothing left to lose and nowhere else to go, they desperately turn to their old friends, the Ultra V's, for help. Part of a "Party Poison Ruins Everything" au, see tags/notes for full context. 

postcomics exploration of party poison, some volvinylocity, the first fic i ever read that made me actually physically get up and walk around not just my room but the entire block

once more, with feeling by @everyoneissquidwardinpurgatory

Listen: Party Poison has come unstuck in time. 

a bit of a groundhog day concept? i reread it all the time when i want to cry because its BEAUTIFULLY done and sososo haunting

Clay Pigeons also by @theultravs

It's been well over than a decade since Vinyl ran away from his childhood home. He's lived the life of a killjoy, helped save the world from BL/i, and most importantly, grown up. But his past comes back to haunt him when a surprise visitor shows up at his front doorstep, and he's forced to reconsider how he feels about everyone he left behind. 

postcomics vinyl-dealing-with-family-shit, currently a wip but im just. Very excited for it because FUCK is it making me feel things

be a burning star if it takes all night ALSO by @ghostxraven

5 things Party Poison learned about the last Prince of Alderaan, and 1 thing he learned about himself in the process. 

star wars au funpoison, so fucking good, like so fucking good

everything you thought you knew will fall apart (but youll be all right) by @killjoynest

On Vaya, Vamos, Vaya-and-vamos, and how to accidentally get a new brother. (how to stop being seen as a unit) 

basially what the summary says but GOD i love them (also read everything nestie’s ever written)

How Time Decides by @neon-rat

the tale of that one time... and the next... and the next... documenting one attitude of livid fire, and another of the coldest ice.

simply put, these are a few key events which led to some kid called Fun Ghoul joining the desert gang he's known to be a part of today.

a series of oneshots about how ghoul joined the fab four, pre-funpoison

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Three

Chapter Three: I Hear Her Voice in the Mornin' Hour

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

Shepard," the cold voice greeted her, the mechanic gravel unneeding of the visive tone, "or is it the fragment of your former self?"

Jane's head craned slowly, letting her eyes rake over the colossal figure of the derelict Reaper that sat before her. Should she be trembling? Why was she trembling?

"Brave words, for a dead roach," she murmured, wavering in her conviction.

"Your victory accomplished our end goal; your struggle was in vain."

Jane looked away from the synthetic, training her vision on the open sky above her. Lifting a hand above her face to shield it from the afternoon sun. The Citadel was a stark presence in the sky. It was a thing of awe. Now it was a wreck. While four of the arms remained, it wasn't without severe damage to the remaining limbs. The bright center of civilization flickered, struggling to sustain itself after the attacks that likely left millions dead. With the detonation she caused.

"Was the price to defeat your salvation truly worth it? You may think your species achieved enlightenment, but will it last to see those vain promises through?" The Reaper grew louder, a hint of yellow reflecting across the glass-like surface of the optic lenses, "In your hubris, you have destroyed everything that kept your species together! Witness the Citadel! How many died for nothing? How many more will die from starvation? Disease? Eachother? Will you watch your peace crumble?"

Trying to block out the voice, she focused on the rations half-eaten in front of her. Another task she no longer took pleasure from, another waste. Feeling this heaviness was quickly becoming unbearable; she was a beacon for passion and fire. A goddamned, fucking hero. One with a will that ignited others, not a tired soldier that snuck away to avoid eating a full meal. Not someone questioning why they remained. The goddamned bit was right, at least, there was no luck here. Just beating after beating.

She was so alone.

Where were her friends? How long would she have to wait? After all they had been through, wouldn't they at least attempt to find her? She wasn't far from where she had made them leave her behind. Already, she had been back to the beacon several times over the fortnight since the LT had conscripted her into this ragtag community.

She needed the Normandy crew. Her mind whispered horrible things. Taunted and dogged her in each agonizing moment of calm. All she held was death, screaming, the weight of all the choices she made. Her soft place was nowhere to be found.

"This legacy you attempted will end in the spoiling of your name. Villanhood only matched by the word 'Reaper,'" The machine was rarely silent long, it was content to keep speaking filling the silence that Jane left, "a Shepard only heralding death and destruction, because your weakness was what you thought strength. Overconfidence always leads to downfall."

In a simmer of sudden rage, Jane gathered energy into herself, merging the familiar burn and tingle of dark matter and letting it stir just beneath the surface of her skin, pleasure, fury, and a twinge of pain. Just the way it should be. It released in a single burst.

"Pathetic."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The Recruit caught herself before she toppled ass over tea kettle, fists grinding into the ground before her to stabilize. Her signature move from cocky grin to a deadened expression had yet to sit right with him, but as he was learning about his woman, forcing an issue wasn't going to move it aside any quicker. Reflexively adverting his gaze to allow her pride the room to readjust and soothe her attitude. Most in his company did not understand his patience with the newest recruit, but they couldn't empathize with the bittersweet familiarity it welled up inside his heart.

With any luck, he could one day reiterate to his son how proud he was of him.

"LT," the woman chirped, a hint of a smile crawling up the side of her mouth.

"Recruit," the old man was looser with his smile. With an admonishing raise of an eyebrow, he drew a finger across her philtrum, "I see you've met our lawn gnome. Still haven't named him yet."

Jane's eyes rolled and a smile she could not fight spread across her features, "Harbinger," but the utterance came out with surprising severity.

"I'd have gone with Harold, Pookie even," he mumbled, dragging a handkerchief across the underside of her nose.

Just as quickly the moment was gone, she pulled away from him. A token of gratitude left in the form of a gentle smile, "did you come out here to bother me, or did you need something?"

This was the prickly personality he didn't care for as fondly. Requiring a brief moment to placate a moment of hasty rebuke, his gaze moved to the half-empty can and the lid that lay a few meters downwind—twice ignoring the blood that peppered the ground beneath her seat. Perhaps he didn't have the patience to baby another mouthy soldier, and she seemed content to throw herself away. But in the same vein, he had regretted doing that years ago with his own child. Sure, this woman was a stranger, but she belonged to someone that worried about her. His innate integrity could hold him out a bit longer.

"You know, we don't have enough supplies to be wasting it," Roy found something to vent the heat building inside.

Jane's bright blue eyes that reflected the setting sun snapped to the can, a wince revealing the words did strike something, "you eat it then. I've been watching you pawn off your rations."

He accepted the can, plopping a hearty portion into his mouth, "still tastes like shit."

"I could really go for some steak fries and chutney," Jane mused gently.

"I'm thinking I could make that happen."

The woman's full attention turned to him, the fine fuzz of her returning eyebrows raised at him.

"Give or take a few weeks."

"I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"Yeah," the man paused, testing out the recruit, the hold on her patience proving to outlast him for the first time, "I'm hoping to test out your skills. And you need to start earning your keep."

"Ready and willing, sir!" She snapped to attention, a foreign energy oozing from her at this moment. Not that he doubted her willingness to come along, he was just surprised to see her motivated to do something.

"Hold your horses, Recruit. You may not be so excited when you find out what we are doing," not that he had much doubt about her grit, "it should be a standard supply run. With a large Krogan exception."

"Krogan, sir?"

He nodded, "before this mess all started, I had a small orchard; I knew a guy from London that shared the hobby. He was more into plants in general, but anyway, I couldn't recall his exact address but knew about the general area his warehouse was located. It should be a rapidly growing, resistant crop. The problem is the Krogan found it first."

"Are we trying diplomacy or just rushing in?"

"I want to try the former, the ladder only if things go south. Some big wig Clan Urgnut-"

"Urdnot."

Roy cleared his throat, that did sound right, "Urdnot was holed up there. Smart move on their part. But they don't have a protected area with access to sufficient sunlight to grow anything, and more importantly...hopefully, they aren't likely to know how to grow the crop."

"You're hoping to grow it within the atrium?" it seemed the recruit was astute enough to guess at the plan without it needing to be spelled out, "trading access for food and maybe protection?"

"If we are lucky."

He had already began to act hopefully, ordering the healthy refugees under guard to start collecting and tagging soil for growing crops. They had some luck, even if it meant desecrating the dead's gardens. The corporate offices he felt less guilty about robbing them of soil.

Finding power had been an easier ordeal; military generators were easily plugged into the grid to power the essentials like heat and some lighting. Water filters were easily found, and London's preference toward rain lent them an easy water source. They weren't foolish enough to rely on a regular storm pattern and already had begun to build a reserve of water. Communication was an entirely separate issue- they needed to find an engineer and fast. Or rely on another splinter group to fulfill that gap. On the subject of protection, he didn't want to let on how direly he needed the talks to go peacefully. Once word got around that they could produce food, the untold number of refugees and nefarious forces pounding on their doors would create unfathomable problems.

But all this conjecture was counting chickens before the eggs hatched.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jane kept her assignment besides the Lieutenant with minimal complaint. They couldn't know that keeping watching along occupied territory was old news to her. While she was used to point, settling into the left flank was quickly done.

It was nice not being the center of attention, without the burden of anyone looking to her for guidance. Without the worry of making a wrong call, she could let down some of the instinctual guard associated with the position of leader. Luckily a hard call wasn't required for this part of the journey, the few-kilometer trip went by without incident.

"LT," she pressed once the first evidence of a perimeter came into view, "have you ever met a Krogan before?"

The male on her right smirked, rolling his eyes. Roy stopped, pulling a deep breath. Some of his stoic calm wearing at the edges. Jane knew this wasn't because of her, she had yet to do anything that would constitute annoying the man. He was nervous.

"No, but how different can they be?"

The man chuckled, "I heard they're almost mindless brutes."

Jane threw him a sharp glare, "they're the rough and tumble type, but not mindless. I'd suggest reminding him of home."

She could guarantee cooperation if Shepard wanted to come out. Shepard liked to remain locked away anymore.

While the man to her right heavily rolled his eyes, Roy seemed to take it under consideration. His gaze flickered back to the path before them, hesitation now more detectable in his manner.

"Maybe you-"

Roy's voice stopped with the interruptions of Jane's pistols suddenly unfurling to full length.

"Don't stop," a gruff Krogan voice called, "I'm looking for a fight."

A second voice was a little more reasonable, "what is your business? This is Krogan territory."

"Human territory," the man retorted with surprising gusto, "you overfeed iguana."

For his bravery, the man collided with the road the third but silent Krogan finding the insult not to his liking. The first Krogan spurred on by his comrade shoved Roy aside, the older man spun without resistance to the ground, "humans are so soft."

Jane was purely lucky that the more tolerable Krogan was nearest to her. It didn't make her less angry. Yes, pushing over the douche of a specimen was permitted but bringing the old man into it? She expected better of Clan Urdnot. Pissed off, the female stormed for the offending Krogan.

Now, she wasn't foolish enough to go in guns blazing, but she knew a better way to deal with the offending reptile. According to Zaeed the spot she had to hit corresponded with a weak spot on the species' frontal plate. If she had a knife and the gall to do so, she could rip that piece off and cause the Krogan to panic. But on the less violent and more in line with the peacekeeping mission she had a superior move: simple, elegant, and a returning item on her personal bucket list.

Headbutting another Krogan.

In retaliation, he glowed blue.

It never came to fruition as the reasonable member stepped between them, "you have offended her krant. Let it go." But his smirk didn't go unnoticed, "what do you want?"

"We're here to speak with Wrex."

The Krogan chuckled, "you have an impressive quad. But I don't think the clan leader is interested in what you have to say."

"You really want to test that? Would we really be here if wasn't important," Shepard's fire returned, "what other reason would we have to seek out the Krogan?  Certainly not for the fight." She motioned toward the two with her.

The Krogan gave an exasperated sigh, "fine, but only one of you. The other two wait."

Jane pivoted and proffered an open hand to the LT, "this is your ball game, sir. Do us proud."