#The catharsis of this hug. My goodness

[tesslinua]

This is now a Kendal and Alinua appreciation blog

[uniquezombiedestiny]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SINCLAIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[soufre-de-paris]

- i like hurt/comfort the best in fic

- i especially like ruined hurt/comfort, as in the comfort cannot actually assuage the hurt, so the comfort becomes a plea of "this is all i can do: i know it is not enough, but please let it be enough" which is delightfully angsty

- however, for ruined hurt/comfort to work, the author needs to understand the comfort to be inadequate

- many authors do not understand this

[tarjapearce]

soccer family Miguel meeting wife’s family for the first time and vice versa?

Oh dear. What a bumpy ride. 🙃

Bit of angst in the end. (Will do her meeting his family later, don't worry ~)

Pt 2 here

Teeth pulled at the inner soft skin on your lips, chewing and biting away the waves of raw anxiety that washed over you.

"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself."

Miguel mumbled as he drove to your family's home. It was an unsettling surprise for you to know that your family wanted to meet him. But what truly surprised you was the fact that they knew.

Ever since you moved out from your family's home at 18, many things stopped happening. Fights, verbal and emotional abuse that went both ways, the constant comparison to your other same age family members and you, and of course, you being pushed around and invalidated.

College was a different kind of freedom for you. And the start of a new life without them. You barely visited them, even skipped the most important holidays to be away from them. In a way, it was thanks to that that you met Jessica. She had been a wonderful support on your life.

"I know... just-"

His large hand covered yours to then give a kiss on the back of your palm

"You'll be fine. And if you don't feel comfortable enough, we can go."

"I'm uncomfortable already and we haven't even arrived yet."

"They can't be that bad"

You deadpanned and sighed.

"Corazón, look. I know family's difficult. I really do, but a couple of hours won't kill you. It's a good chance to prove them wrong."

"I've got nothing to prove them, Miguel."

"Right. Still, won't be a bad idea for them to see you doing fine. Talvez asi se callan el hocico y te dejan en paz" (Maybe that way they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone)

You giggled at his words.

In truth was that you told him everything, it was sort of sad yet amusing that you bonded over trauma sharing. It was a mutual catharsis that somehow ended up strengthening your relationship. He didn't know them, but for the things you had shared with him, he knew he'd be curt and polite.

You'd warn him about their modus operandi. They'd present themselves as kind and welcoming, but bit by bit the snide and passive aggressive remarks and comments would show up. You had hope that after years of barely visiting they'd change.

Something you were about to find out as he parked outside the colonial looking home.

"No matter what, stay away from the Horchata. My auntie thinks she is good at it but... it's yuck."

He chuckled and soon, you'd get out the car. Miguel rubbed your shoulders soothingly in an attempt to ease your restless nerves.

----

"Buenas gente" (Hey, People)

One of your elder aunts, the only one you truly liked and always supported you back in college came to greet you with a loving hug, "Mija!"

"Hola tía" (Hey auntie)

You hugged her back and mumbled a quick 'I missed you' before letting Miguel come into view.

"Tía, This is Miguel. My boyfriend."

Auntie gasped at the sheer size of him but gave him a gentle smile.

"Nice to meet you, mijo."

"El gusto es mío, madrecita" (The pleasure is mine)

"Oh! He speaks Spanish!"

The two shared a brief laugh as auntie invited you further. With a hand Miguel held a small present, a bottle of your dad's favorite rum and bunch of roses for your mother. and the other one he held your hand.

It seemed like a regular carneada for him, except that this time there wasn't meats to roast, but soup. Your mom's special seafood soup that was only done in special occasions. You could tell it would be difficult to leave emotionally unscathed when your mom and dad, three aunties, two cousins, and your brother were there.

Upon you making an appearance before all of them, the world stopped for a second, your breath was caught in your throat as you mentally prepared for the game of pretense.

"Mi niña! Come here!"

Your dad followed by your brother made the first ones in making an approach. The size difference sure was shocking for them all. Your father and brother had to crane his head up to see Miguel.

"¿Qué tal? Un gusto conocerte." (How's it going? Nice to meet you)

Miguel shook his hand with him firmly, something your dad approved. And then Miguel handed the packaged rum to him.

He had explained how you'd told him about his favorite drink. Your dad invited you and introduced Miguel to the whole family.

Some of your cousins oggled him shamelessly. Earning a frown from you.

However the biggest challenge laid ahead. Your mother had been watching both from afar, tending to the food with some of your aunties.

And when it was her time to be greeted, you held tighter on his hand. His thumb rubbing on your skin, reassuring.

You'll be fine.

"Mamá" You mumbled and her so ever deep stare settled on Miguel. Not even in you first, but Miguel.

"Fo you, Ma'am" Miguel gave her the roses which she took with a strained smile.

"Thank you very much. Miguel was it, right?"

"Así es." (Correct)

"Are you hungry? Made your favorite soup."

Her stalking gaze shifted between Miguel and you.

"Thanks. A bit would be nice."

"Hm. Go sit, Miguel. We'll tend to this."

Her gaze returned to the food and you nodded at him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea to just sit and watch. But by the things you had told him, it was better to not create unnecessary drama for you.

-----

Everyone seemed at the expectance of something happening between you and your mother. Your brother was trying to make casual conversation with Miguel, but his curt and simple answers made him desist. Plus, it didn't help his mahogany eyes seemed lighter.

If they were nervous about him looking so big with deep red eyes, they'd surely freak out by his fangs. It instantly made your stomach churn, you knew Miguel didn't appreciate people pointing at his insecurities so brazenly, even worse without knowing him.

Everyone sat down, a little blessing before anything and soon the feast begun.

Of course, eyes were settled on both of you and your interactions. Miguel followed your instructions to then help you break the crab.

One of your aunties smiled at it.

"So, Miguel, where do you work?"

Here we go

"Lab Manager at Alchemax."

Your brother whistled and nodded approvingly, just like your father.

Your relationships with him sure was strained, but at least he seemed to have a bit more self criterion than the rest when it came to pick sides. You'd rather him neutral. Just like your dad.

"Wow, you surely outdid yourself this time, cariño."

That cariño sat sickly fake in your stomach. She was the one that always instigated the fights further when you thought everything would calm down. You didn't smile, just ate.

Miguel was given a beer, a round of collective gasps as he tried to open the beer with his fangs. Your other auntie made a cross sign on herself and your mother's eyes widened.

A custom you still couldn't get out of him.

"Do they hurt?"

"How does one get those? They look so cool!"

"Are they comfortable?"

Your eyes caught the glimpse of him tightening his grip on the spoon.

"Ya pues!" (Knock it off!)

"There is no need to yell"

Silence immediately came to the table as your gaze and your mother's clashed.

"Disculpa eso, Miguel." (Im sorry for that, Miguel)

your dad shook his head at your cousins.

"Do you plan on having kids?"

You couldn't help but hide your face in your palm.

"Mamá, stop."

"What? I just wanna know! You're getting old enough to have kids. And Emanuel is always asking about you."

"We haven't discussed it yet." Miguel cleaned his hands with lemon, rinsing away the fishy smell out of his fingers. The coldness in his voice only matched your mom's icy stare.

"Oh."

"But do you want to have kids, Miguel?"

"Dios mío, ma! Ya basta." (My god, Mom! Enough.)

"Why are you so mad over a question?"

Miguel's jaw clenched. It made sense for him why you didn't visit. The way you rolled your eyes, made the ones that had finished already to stand up and leave. Their cue to leave things unfold.

Your elder auntie seized your mom with a glare. Your dad only recoiled to himself and your brother sighed.

"Ma, eso no se pregunta." The only attempt of him to calm the boiling tension between the two. (Mom, you don't ask such things)

Miguel gave you a 'do you wanna go now' stare. And you shook your head. Leaving would only make things worse. But you found the perfect excuse to leave the table.

"Need help, mi amor?"

"Sure."

He was perceptive to pick up your cues, the both cleared up the table and took the dishes to the sink.

---

"I'm so sorry you had to put up with it." You mumbled as you washed and he dried. The kitchen felt tiny for him.

"S'fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A bit uncomfortable. But no, not mad."

"We're leaving after we're done here." a deep sigh escaped your lips, "This is exactly why I don't come here."

"Whose Emanuel?" You groaned and shook your head.

"A man mom thought it was fun to pair me with a long time ago. I never indulged him but he never got the memo ever since I left this place"

"Sounds like he never got over you."

"Yeah, cause mom kept feeding his hopes of me getting with him together."

"Is that why you moved out?"

"One of the reasons, yeah."

You finished the dishes and Miguel excused himself to the bathroom.

He could hear the voices from the other side. One of your aunts surely and your mom.

"I give them a year."

"Did you see his... fangs? I've never seen something like that! And his eyes too!"

"Esta niña... Me va a sacar canas verdes. From all The guys she could pick, she gets one that is twice her size. Why she can't pick up normal guys?" (This girl, will get me green hairs)

Miguel's eyes turned apprehensive as his mouth settled in a straight line.

He had to hunch over the sink to take a look of himself in the mirror. He looked pretty normal, by any standards, until of course, he smiled. Pointy canines bigger than the average people stood out the most. His eyes were a different shade of brown. That was all.

He was fine.

He was normal.

He knew things like this would happen, he expected a bit of trouble. Not this.

His head felt heavy. Sudden spiral thoughts plagued his mind, corrupting the good things he held dear in his mind.

"As long as he's rich, don't care."

"Emanuel's surely richer than him"

That was the final straw. He knew you weren't that type of woman. Hell, you had invited him multiple times, knowing that you'd get broke for a couple of weeks. And still did it anyways. You loved to pamper him.

Why?

His steps guided him back to you. You were stressed and surely would cry at night. But so far you were keeping it together.

Your heart sunk a bit when looking at him. Neither of the both could stand being a second longer in the house. He followed you as you said your goodbyes. You didn't hug none but your elder aunt, and your dad, though the latter got an awkward hug.

You went back home. Neither of you said much during the trip back.

[horatiocomehome]

Hi my dream last night did something to me so here's a word dump I wrote immediately after waking up so I could get catharsis.

What if... instead of looping, Siffrin just came back to life?

~~~

You should've known it was too easy. No traps, only weak sadnesses, keys in relatively obvious places. It was so easy to get through the first floor.

But now there's a large sadness, and you've taken one hit too many.

As you fall to the ground you see your party close ranks in front of you. To protect you.

You see Bonnie, running up, with a crafted water.

Your vision is going dark.

There's a flicker, above Bonnie. It's…

The sadness it's arm above Bonnie it's attacking.

You tackle Bonnie. Something slams into your back.

You can't move anything except twitch your fingers you ca n't look up just at the floor

Bonnie's boots are there someone is screaming

You aren't g oing to make it.

You wanted more time w ith them you want to live you want t o stay with them you want to stay with them YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE YOU W ANT T O S T A Y W I T H TH

GAME OVER > continue > quit

You wake up from a deep sleep. You had a bad dream last night.

Someone's pulled the sheets up over your head. You toss them off.

Oh.

You aren't in your bed. You're back in your dream.

This is where you died.

It's quiet, now. No sadness. No party.

You look to the side, at the sheets you tossed off that weren't really sheets but your cloak, neatly draped over you where you were stretched out. Like a corpse.

Did you really die? But you're back here, so you couldn't have, right?

Maybe they gave you crafted water and it only just kicked in? But then where's the rest of your party?

There's a sickening certainty setting in to your gut.

You died, didn't you. And somehow you're back.

Your party left without you.

Good. They still need to kill the king.

Maybe… you can still catch up. You need to find them. You're okay! They'll be so happy to see you!

You stagger to your feet. You're a little light-headed, dizzy for a moment, then it passes. You put back on your cloak, grab your hat where it sits (right above where your head used to lie) and put it back on. Onwards you go.

There aren't any sadnesses, as you walk through the halls. Did they manage to defeat them all without you? Or was there some kind of reprieve after that large sadness?

You hope they got a bit of rest.

As you turn the corner, you see an open doorway, hear quiet voices coming through.

You don't know why you pause.

"—if we can't bring him with us, can't we bring him here at least?" you hear Mirabelle whisper, with a desperation that turns your stomach.

"I'm with Mira." Isa's voice is louder but still technically a whisper. He sounds so serious. "What if more sadnesses come? What if—"

You realize they're talking about your body. A shiver goes down your back.

"No." Odile's voice is steel in a way that makes you flinch. "We need to keep moving. We can't go back for them, or bring them with us. And sadnesses are just as likely to come here as that other room."

"BUT—" Mirabelle starts to protest.

You stop listening and force yourself to start moving forward. They don't have to fight! You're right here! You—

You freeze again as Bonnie walks through the doorway. They hug the wall as soon as they make it through the doorway, shooting a glance back over their shoulder before looking back down at the ground.

"Jus' need to make it to Dormont," they whisper so quiet you can barely hear. "I can do that. Just make it to Dormont. They'll all be fine."

They're sniffling as they shuffle along the wall towards you. Still not looking.

"I can make it back to Dormont. Then they won't worry about me and I won't hold them back like a crabbing baby and they'll be just fine and I'll freeze with all the other little kids and wait for them to—"

"Bonbon?" You ask.

They freeze, and turn towards you. Their eyes are dark and puffy.

When they lock eyes with you there's a beat and then they scream, terrified.

There's yelling from the other room. You ignore it. Your stomach is dropping like it's made of lead and you drop to your knees, stretching your arms wide. "Bonnie, no! See, look, I'm okay! I'm alright!"

They take a step back. "F-frin? Yyyou… died?"

"I got better!"

Bonnie tackles you into a hug and you don't have time to flinch as you fall back onto the tile floor, so you just wrap your arms around them. Over their head you see your other companions burst through the door, weapons at the ready.

"I HATE YOU," Bonnie is scream sobbing into your chest. "I HATE YOU I THOUHT YOU WERE DEAD YOU'RE A CRABBING IDIOT I HATE YOU."

Your heart twists but they're still holding you so tight, so you keep hugging them back. Your companions lower their weapons looking like they've seen a ghost.

Maybe they have.

You don't have time to think about it because then they're rushing in to hug you too, the warmth of their bodies pressing into yours, their tears dripping onto you—and you're crying as well, and even Odile, who hung back, has a glint on her cheek.

"I'm back," you say. Bonnie is still sobbing into your chest, but they've stopped yelling at you. "I'm alive. We're all going to be okay."

[skcirthinq]

What's the line? 'How was the catharsis? Was the catharsis good?'

*me, face screwed up and holding back tears* it was good.

Yeah, so I read "Little kid with a big death wish" by @remedyturtles and. You guys. You GUYS. It's so. Heart-wrending and evocative and so so well written. Like. I'm going to have turtle fanfiction stapled in my soul now.

It's a post kraang fic, but like. Mostly about the characters (mostly Leo) and how they're dealing with stuff ... Emotionally... Mentally. Physically. There's also TMNT shenanigans about what exactly is going on with Leo.

I recommend it fully, with the caveat of minding the tags, please.

Descriptions under the cut, with two more works I'm adding in a reblog, because I. Goddamned. Ran out of room. Spoilers ahead.

(Descriptions of sketch illustrations of various scenes from the fic) Image 1: A badly injured Leo is laying against some pillows, with a blanket pulled up around his chest. He has bandages, cuts, and bruises littering his visible body, and one of his arms is gone, with bandages around the remainder. His eyes are open, but his expression is vacant and unseeing. Mikey and Raph, also showing signs of battle damage, are sleeping; Mikey is resting his face in his crossed arms on the side of Leo's bed, looking upset even in his sleep. Raph is right behind Mikey, also leaning his face into his arm, with the other arm resting on Mikey's back and head. Donnie is sitting behind them, looking at his brothers with an unhappy grimace. He is also visibly injured, and wearing a hoodie. None of them are wearing their masks.

Image 2: Raph is sitting down, tense and holding his hand. He looks up with an... Intense face, as his brothers come into the room. Donnie and Mikey are supporting Leo, and Donnie is holding Leo's crutch. They all look upset. Because Somebody 'broke his hand. Like a boss.'

Image 3: Leo sobs into Splinter's lap, gripping tightly onto his dad. Future Leo (who isn't there physically) is bent over sobbing as well, holding his face in his hand. Everybody's crying.

Image 4: Mikey is facing Leo, both of them sitting in bed. Leo has a panicked look on his face as he tries not to dissociate, while Mikey is holding Leo's hand to his chest. They are having a Talk tm.

Image 5: Future Leo is laying prone in a sea of muck and mud. It's covering most of him. Present Leo is crouched on top of F! Leo's chest, upset and tired, but determined, wiping some of the mud off of F! Leo's face. He is also covered in the mud.

Image 6: A bandaged, but healing, Raph is looking straight on. His mask is pulled up showing his eyes and forehead, which are scarred from the kraang. He looks near tears, exhausted, as he begs Leo not to dissociate again, promising that he's got him.

Image 7: A tense and upset Donnie, wearing a tank top that shows his scarred shell, is tightly hugging Leo, who is laying down. Leo is gripping back tightly, but away from Donnie's shell, and trying to hug with his stump. Leo is present and smiling a little, cracking jokes.

Image 8: A split screen, wherein Donnie, Raph, and Mikey formally meet Sensei. Mikey is confused and worried, turning back towards what they're facing (Sensei). Raph has a hooded jacket on, and is slightly crouched, with a hand on Donnie's shoulder. He's concerned but less upset than the others. Donnie's. Mad. And has his bo out and pressed to Sensei's neck. He's standing straight and speaking, glaring at Sensei. He's wearing an oversized T-shirt that says 'Autism Wins'. On the other side of the split, Sensei, piloting Leo's body, is sitting up straight, and calm, with Donnie's bo against his throat. He's replying to the present boys. He's in bed, with a blanket around his waist. Because the artist will take any opportunity to cover up a body with a blanket.

Image 9: A back view of Donnie, sitting cross-legged. He's tense, and has his arms crossed tightly in front of himself. His shell is covered in tentacle patterned swirls of barely healed wounds from the technodrome. Leo's arm is visible in the foreground, hand tightly gripping the blanket Donnie is sitting on. The pov is from Leo's eyes.

Image 10: An upset and crying Mikey, dressed in a shirt and vest, with his socks and gloves on, is leaning with his back against the wall. He's got his mask pushed up, and is wiping his tears away with his forearm, since his hands are covered in chalk. The ninpo marks and bandages are peeking out from under his gloves. Leo is sitting down beside him, using his crutch to lower himself down. He's wearing his mask, socks, a braided bracelet, and a jean jacket over a shirt, with his swords on his back. He's concerned about Mikey.

[unsoundedcomic]

For all her dissaproval of 'The Man' writing the importance of cruelty into 'The Story', the Lady (and btw you too Ashley 😁) took some serious notes from his textbook. I mean, I really feel for Prakhuta here: all that pain, all that suffering, all that enduring, all for nothing..? He's truly one of your most tragic characters. Born into an abused, enslaved people. Tortured by Delicieu for years, abandoned by his only friend, maimed and banished by his own kin, haunted by the pure pain and horrorside of the Khert, and now failing in the one task that could've made all that suffering atleast have a purpose. A good cause. A true ending. I know he's also a homicidal maniac, but his journey mirrors that of Duane's in so many ways that it is extra sad to me that there seems to be no sympathy or understanding for him in your readership. I mean, with the way Delicieu 'bound' a human soul unto him, can Prakhuta even make or recall happy memories? Is cackling in the proximity of promised relief and being privey to some of the Lady's plans, the only respite he gets/deserves?

Oh, there are readers who have sympathy for Prakhuta. They've been in my inbox all day! :)

I don't think anything redeems suffering and I don't think anyone fundamentally deserves anything. In the words of Ssael, good men keep no accounts. It's better to live day by day, for the sake of others, and not obsess over all the wrongs done to you and by you. Because nothing can undo them. They and everything else remain suspended forever in time. The only way is forward, and we are all going to the same place.

It's not all that different in Kasslyne. There is no redemption. There is only Today and, if you're very lucky, Tomorrow.

Prakhuta lived a life full of suffering and torment, and there is nothing that can undo that fact. Yerta could appear and open her motherly arms and embrace him and he still would have lived a life full of suffering and torment. If Knock had not been there for Ana in the end, what would have changed? Nothing, really, except the reader would have missed out on that brief burst of catharsis as our pattern-seeking brains recognised the bookend of a narrative arc. But Ana still suffered horribly, and she still was dead, and not one jot of that was undone by a hug from Knock.

Anyway, I know I probably sound very grim, but I do like to keep it real. If you see a Prakhuta or an Ana, and you feel you can do something for them, do it. Redemption's for stories, and sometimes not even then~

[enarien]

you wanna know what I *personally* need?

x fat!reader fanfics that actually go into the whole 'im fat therefore i'm not pretty nor attractive and the only time someone would wanna date me is if they have fetish (and they will never go public or acknowledge we are together to other people) or they were dared to pretend to date me'

don't get me wrong i love some nice fluffy fics with happy and confident fat!reader

but i also need catharsis

I need fat reader who doesn't believe anyone could love them.

fat reader who doesn't have hope for finding love anymore

fat reader who question their sexuality in really fucked up way - am I just frigid? am i asexual? or is it just the fact that i cannot imagine myself in sexual situation that screwed up my perception on my own sexuality?

fat reader who ugly cries, who is oversensitive, who questions and overthinks

fat reader who hurts when they are alone but they hurt more when you show them love because they can't handle it

fat reader who is touch starved but kindness and a simple hug will turn them into a sobbing mess

x reader fanfiction is good for putting yourself into different situations and working through your feelings in different ways and that's why i so desperately crave fat reader written by fat writers who've been through all those confusing things, who hurt because of them

i just want some catharsis ok?

so if you know any good angsty fat!reader fics pls link them ♥♥♥

[koolades-world]

Hello dear, I really enjoy your work and was curious if you’d write something for some of the demons with an s/o who has issues with anger? Getting angry fast at usually innocuous things, that kind of hot frustration that’s hard to tame at times. I’ve been trying to deal with my own recently and was itching for some catharsis from namely Lucifer, Diavolo, Satan, and Beel if thats not too much. N pressure of course, and thank you greatly for your time <3

hi! again, sorry for the wait! thank you for waiting! I actually love you for only giving four characters and that one is Dia!! I don't get to write him much and I love him sm

I can of course write this! hope you enjoy!!

Mc with anger issues

Lucifer

Back when he was younger, he also had that sort of rage, not unlike Satan's. it was explosive and was very different from the demon you see today

before he met Mc, he didn't even know humans could experience such a problem but is willing to help you out

over all just super understanding

When he notices the anger beginning to bubble, he urges you to take a break and come back once you're ready

if he's not there when you get angry, however, his room is always open for you to hide and destress in, even if he isn't there!

Diavolo

As a prince, he's bene prepared for and dealt with most types of demons, and subsequently, people and angels if needed

he's pretty good at diffusing situations but he wasn't sure how that would translate to his s/o

he's here to offer all the hugs and everything money can buy for you, such as a dummy of someone who may or may not make your particularly angry

he doesn't try to stop you from being angry, since he knows it can't be healthy, so he just lets you get it all out and try again later with what ever made you mad, even if it was a person

you are allowed to take breaks during RAD in his office whenever despite Barbatos' nagging

Satan

ooh boy he's all too familiar with rage that can't be tamed that's literally his whole existence

he understands everyone is different and you will probably have different triggers and destressants, but he shares everything of his with you

he lends you all his virtually indestructible items he uses to calm himself but he also understands if you just want to let it all out

he's also there to just talk and let you vent if that's what you need

he wants to be the person he never had when he learn to deal with his rage and help you through it

Beel

he's another one that's very understanding

while he doesn't have personal experiences with the type of rage you experience often, he's always offering you anything to make you feel better

he's heard exercise might be the outlet for you, so he starts inviting you on all his trips to the gym to show you all the equipment

he also invites you on the more unconventional workouts, such as mountain climbing to show you some of his favorite sights

he learns what makes you tick and uses it to make you more comfortably by removing triggers and introducing things that make you happy to his personal spaces <3

[ragnarokhound]

for the au ask game—dimension or time travel au? 👀

For the AU ask game!

Ohhh this kind of au is always so fun because there's literally infinite directions to take this OwO the question for me becomes what would be the most fun/interesting time or sideways universe to send them (and if only one goes back in time, or both of them 👀) or what alternate reality would it be the most galvanizing for them to see... 👀

Oh. I know. I'm still in my cups over saltwateroracle AKA @n1ightw1ng's Arkham Knight Jason dimension hopping au so...

Five fun facts from a dimension hopping au I'd write:

Your choice of comics verse Jason and Tim who don't get along, enemies to coworkers style. But ala The Long Way Home (excellent fic btw everyone who cares about Jason and Tim's relationship whether romantic or platonic please go read it) they get warped together to Arkhamverse and don't realize it. At first.

Separately, they meet their arkhamverse counterparts. Jason nearly get blown up by Arkham Knight Jason, Tim has no idea what to make of his double being married? To? Babs? They meet back up and go 'you thought YOUR double was weird'

'you thought your double was weird, wait til you get a load of fucking BRUCE.' 'Is the batmobile? A tank??' Jason gets very sus of the 'suppressive rounds' Arkham Bruce fires at the mercenaries. Tim gets very sus of the whole ass people he's got stashed away at the batcave lmao

Arkham Bruce is running on such severely fucked up fumes that it makes them actively miss their own Bruce back home. They help him with rounding up Riddler and Scarecrow and with handling the thorny Arkham Knight problem, but absolutely are going to get betrayed 'for their own good' (or because Bruce doesn't trust them) eventually. So they find themselves leaning more and more on each other as the only familiar and trustworthy face in this fucked up dark clown maze version of Gotham

Things end better because of their influence than in the game (something something cure for jokerism something something Arkham Knight Jason gets catharsis/reconciliation and a shock blanket and some soup) and they get themselves home ASAP and everything 100% goes back to normal and they definitely will not be talking about how Tim totally kissed Jason when they thought they were going to die at the end there, nuh uh, no way, Tim has very important debriefings to write byyyye--

(Bonus fun fact: Bruce is very confused but ultimately accepts the out-of-the-blue check ins/hugs he receives from Tim and Jason with aplomb. He reads Tim's report and goes 'Ah. Yes, dimension hopping will do that to a motherfucker'. He can't follow-up with either of them though, for some reason they've both gone dark for a week. Together. At the same safehouse. Hm. Better to leave that one alone, he thinks.)

[steddieunderdogfics]

fics from 10k-20k words (challenge monday): “if you have a minute” by MacksDramaticShenanigans. if i remember correctly, the word i had in mind while reading this was ‘enchanting’. so so good.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41346693

if you have a minute by MacksDramaticShenanigans

@stevethehairington

Rating: General Audiences

10,681 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Not Canon Compliant - Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Post-Upside Down Destruction (Stranger Things), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Stressed Steve Harrington, Comforting Eddie Munson, Rain, Screaming as a form of catharsis, Diners, First Kiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, in the sense that steve is very stressed and worried, and eddie gives him an outlet and tells him it's going to be okay

Summary:

They pass the cigarette back and forth for a few quiet minutes. And there’s something about Eddie’s presence that’s helping just as much as the nicotine. Eddie holds the cigarette back out for Steve, blows the smoke out in a smooth, steady stream, and tilts his head. “You working tomorrow?” He asks. Steve shakes his head. “Not tomorrow. Why?” Eddie pushes himself off of the wall. “Great,” he declares and grins. “We’re doing something then. You and me. I’m gonna take you somewhere.” Steve’s face scrunches. “What? Where?” Eddie tuts and wags his finger. “Nope, not telling you,” he says. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Meet at my place at nine. Don’t be late.” He doesn’t give Steve a chance to argue or further question it. Just throws a little salute and turns on his heel, disappearing around the corner. Or, the one where Steve’s anxiety doesn’t get the hint that they defeated the Upside Down, and Eddie knows just how to help.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Between 10k - 20k words.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (1/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. ~43000 words total.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 1: Breaking Through

Crosshair has a rough night. 2000 words, Crosshair POV.

-

The days after Tantiss slid into one another, blurring into a strange haze.  He drifted through them one by one, feeling like a ghost.  Part of him had already died, hadn’t it?  But the others kept him going, their presence a beacon in the dark.

The first days were utterly lost to him, wiped out by exhaustion, the agony and shock of his lost hand, the massive painkillers the medical droid had him on.  No matter how he tried, they remained a mystery.  He had only flashes of memory left behind: flickers of his brothers at his bedside, Omega’s hand in his, kind close words from Echo, from Wrecker, from Hunter.  He knew he’d never get those days back, but the fragments of memory he was able to hold onto said you’re not alone.

Blurry though the days were at first, there was a strange new sense of hope in the air.  Omega radiated it like a star, and he couldn’t help but feel it infecting him, too; Tantiss was gone, Hemlock was gone, a war they’d never stopped fighting had finally ended.  A weight had vanished, a stranglehold in his chest he had never thought to be freed from.  Wrecker and Hunter were lighter than they’d been in years, all broad smiles and easy laughter, and there were days the four of them just sat in the sunlight, blinking in awe at their freedom.

They started to put down roots, a thing foreign to all of them.  As his stump, Wrecker’s wounds, Hunter’s back began to heal, they started working around the island.  There was still much cleanup to do after the Empire’s attack, and not only that; there was a house to build, down in lower Pabu.

Though something nagged at him, something dark in the back of his mind.  He could feel it when Omega fell asleep on his shoulder watching the stars, when Wrecker pulled him into a crushing hug, when Hunter caught his eye and smiled as if to say we made it.  It cast a shadow over those things, a taint over the new beginnings the others spoke of so gladly.  

He pushed it down deep.  

He was good at that, wasn’t he? 

---

Pulsing, throbbing, sparks shooting up his arm, searing into his chest, rocketing back toward imaginary fingertips --

Crosshair gasped himself into wakefulness, but the pain followed him, radiating up and down his right arm and into the hollow place beyond his wrist.  He bit back a whimper and rubbed his forearm as hard as he could with his left hand, fingers digging into his flesh, a sensation he hoped would distract from the fire.  But the pain persisted, and he lay on his bunk trembling, sweat dripping down his face and pooling beneath his arms, down his back.

Pain meds.  Where’d I --

He shakily got to his feet, lurching to the refresher in the back of their stolen shuttle, leaning against the wall with his left shoulder.  He hunched his way inside and the lights flicked on.  He glanced around the narrow storage space and spotted his medication, cursing that he hadn’t kept it closer to him.  

He reached out with his left hand, his right arm pinning the bottle against himself to hold it still, his left hand and teeth eventually getting it open.  He shook the right number of tablets carefully over the ledge in the sink that held the water and soap, but he shivered and one of the tablets rolled into the drain.  He swore and shook another out, clumsily recapped the bottle, and scooped the dose into his palm.  He tossed it back and swallowed, chasing it with a handful of water from the tap.

He leaned against the shower wall, shivering all over in his damp sleep shirt and leggings.

AZI no longer had him on the medications that had left him nearly incapacitated, passed out in bed most of the day, his thoughts barely coherent.  But sometimes the pain broke through this lighter medication, broke through like Wrecker through a line of clankers, and it left him wondering if it would ever stop.  He blinked back the excess water that had filled his eyes, taking a heaving breath.  

Some fresh air sounded good.  Maybe a walk, until the pain started to fade.  He sighed, straightening back up, rubbing his forearm again.  He slipped his boots on and headed out into the velvet dark of the colonnade.  Here the night chill felt refreshing, the breeze a soft caress.

Their new little house was still well under construction.  Materials on the island weren’t abundant, and Hunter was determined that their home use the minimum necessary to avoid imposition on the village.  It’d probably be finished within the next week or two -- people moved fast here, when they could -- but for now they still used the stolen Imperial shuttle, its signature long scrambled, as a place to sleep.

It was… He stood out on the stone, looking back at the looming long-range shuttle casting shadows in the moonlight.  His eyes roved over it.  Severe, angular lines.  A dominating silhouette.  Utilitarian, with none of the elegant sleekness of the Havoc Marauder.  Tech wouldn’t have been caught dead flying this ship.

Tech -- 

He flinched, shaking his head, taking a long breath of the night air.  He took off at a brisk pace, footsteps soft on the stone.  A new frisson of pain sparked past his wrist.  He shook his arm and  bit his lip hard enough he tasted blood.  

It’ll pass.  It’ll pass.   He tried repeating it, again and again.  Maybe it would help him believe it.  He looked around anxiously, searching for a distraction.

He paused, coming to a stop, and gazed up at the stars.  It was another clear, beautiful night.  He’d asked Wrecker and Hunter and Tech long ago what they saw when they looked up at the night sky; he was very young when he learned that what he saw was unique.  They’d been disappointed when he told them of the hints of ultraviolet he could sense -- just faintly -- at the blurred edges of the flickering stars, when he mentioned the shadows of nebulae lurking deep beyond the pinpoint lights, when he pointed out shooting star after shooting star they could not detect.  

Pabu’s night sky was untouched splendor, fields of stars tinged in gold and yellow and blue and white shimmering across the black and violet.  As he gazed upward his breathing gradually began to slow, settling down even as the pain in his arm began to recede.  He gratefully, carefully let his arm rest back at his side, hissing when there was only a slight crackle of pain. 

“Trouble sleeping?” asked a familiar voice.

“Surprised you haven’t left yet,” said Crosshair, not bothering to turn around.  Echo drew himself up beside him, looking out at the stars.

“There’s a little more time before Rex needs me.  Figured I’d head out tomorrow, give Omega a proper goodbye.  Though you boys’ll be fine, I’m sure.  Your place is here, with her.”  Echo smiled slightly, then tilted his head.  “You all right?”

“All left, actually,” Crosshair said.  He shrugged as Echo gave him a skeptical look, then a dry smile.

“Arm humor, huh?  Well, whatever works for you.”

Crosshair chuckled, reaching towards his belt before remembering he’d forgotten to put it on before he left.  No toothpicks.  His hand dropped back to his side.  “Well, if you’re asking… it’s worse at night.”

“It was like that for me, too.”  Echo nodded.  “My head wasn’t exactly clear with the Separatists… but I do remember feeling my arm and legs sometimes, underneath the programming.  The pain was one of the few things that I could feel when I…”  He frowned.  “The pains still happen now and then, but it’s rare.  It should get better, Crosshair.  Eventually.”

Crosshair nodded.  He knew he’d gotten off easy.  Echo had been such a fighter, it had been rare for him to let on anything was wrong.  Even with everything the Separatists had done to him.  Echo knew what it was to feel less than whole, to be something different than what he used to be.  He knew he should listen to him.

“So you say,” Crosshair said, though he couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

“I do.”  

“Hhm.”

Crosshair fell back into a walk, and Echo walked beside him.  Echo didn’t ask to come with, and Crosshair didn’t tell him to stop.

They walked beneath the vast weeping maya, near the looming Archium.  Crosshair led them a good berth away from it.  He knew what lay in there, shattered and stained, and he had no desire to see them.

“Don’t forget to ask for help.”

Crosshair snorted.  “I did enough of that last week on those meds.”

“I think it was good for you.”  Echo gave him a serious look, his eyes concerned.  He paused, crossing his arms.  

“I’ve got this, Echo.”  He held up his stump in a patch of moonlight; the shiny thin scar tissue glinted.  The skin was new and fragile, red-edged and taut, but it was holding.  He was still only a few days out from needing bandages.  The scar twisted his stomach to look at, but he felt a strange kind of pride, too, in knowing how far the wound had come; how the bruising and vicious swelling had faded back to his normal skin tone instead of mottled blues and violets; how the skin was now dry instead of oozing blood and serum through the bandages.  It was getting better.

“See?  It’s healing fine.”

“It’s not just physical recovery, and you know that.  You saw me, figuring out the prosthetics, the scomp.  You saw me waking up at night, remembering what they did,” Echo said in a low voice.  “It’s going to be hard.  I just want you to know, you can comm me any time.  I -- I need to be out there with Rex for myself, but you’re my brother too, and if I can help you, I will.”

Crosshair stiffened.  He didn’t want to hear this.  Didn’t want to hear that there was more ahead, that the healing he’d done so far was just the beginning.  It had already been so much.  More than he’d thought he could bear.

He couldn’t speak past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I know you, remember?” Echo continued.  A sad smile stole across his face.  “You’re probably gonna pretend you’re fine for a good while, but I’m telling you, when you’re ready not to be -- we’ll catch you.  All of us.”  He sighed.  “But you’ll do what you want, of course.”

Crosshair swallowed, turning away, staring out at the stars.  “That’s right.  I will.”

Echo clapped him on the shoulder with his left hand.  “You’ve got the time to figure it out.  Take it.  You deserve to.”

He snorted.  That was a bit much.  Like he deserved anything --

Shattered lenses, soil crusted in the rim of the camera light, a smudge of blood dried and smeared into the strap --

He pulled away, chest heaving suddenly.  He fought back the sensation.  “That’s a good one.”

Echo frowned.  “I mean it.  Believe me or don’t.  That’s up to you.”

He glanced back at Echo and softened, remembering that he was leaving in the morning.  He was going to miss him.  “It’s been good to have you around, Echo.  Omega loves having you here.”

“Sure.  Omega does,” Echo said, grinning.  “I’ll be back, don’t you worry.  Now come on.  Time to get some rest?”

Crosshair lifted his right arm, realizing with relief that the pain had gone.  It just felt like his arm now, even if it was the wrong weight, even if the asymmetry with the left was obvious, even if the impulses to shift his hand ended in muscle twitches at the wrist.  “Yeah, you’re right.”  He headed back across the square towards their ships, Echo beside him, and the stars shone soft and warm against the darkness.

[lonelylonelyghost]

Love Like the Galaxy: trauma and vengeance done right

a.k.a forgiveness is overrated

So, we all know that Chinese dramas, especially historical ones, love to traumatize their characters in all kinds of ways: they are wrongfully accused, betrayed, killed, their family is killed, etc. You know, all the good stuff. And I'm all here for it, but.

The problem that I think many of these kinds of dramas run into is - they don't tend to portray how that kind of trauma can and will affect the characters. I'm sorry, but when you as a child witness your whole family's execution, there's no way that the only consequence of that will be the mild fear of blood, which then you can easily overcome once your love interest hugs you like one time, you know?

And I love my traumatized characters as much as the next guy, the more trauma - the better. But when it doesn't affect the character in any meaningful way, then what's the point? Where's the catharsis in that? Needless to say, seeing this kind of thing slightly upsets me.

And here is when Love like the Galaxy comes in.

We have two main characters:

Cheng Shao Shang, a girl that was abandoned practically since birth by her warrior parents and left in the care of her aunt and grandmother, which then treated her like crap. Her mother and father return from war eventually, but unfortunately things don't get much better. While left to fend for herself, Shao Shang has developed a vengeful and cunning personality. She's resourceful and creative, extremely petty and will fuck up anyone who dares to cross her, no matter who that is. These kinds of traits are not approved by people around her and especially her mother, who attempts to mold her into the more acceptable version of what is considered "a lady from high society";

Ling Bu Yi, an Emperor's beloved foster son and a general of like the coolest army ever. He's feared by everyone, and for good reasons - he's good in combat (this actor is amazing in action scenes), cold and absolutely brutal, be it in a battle field or in court. His purpose in life is to get to the bottom of the conspiracy that led to the massacre of the whole city and his clan when he was a child.

So, these two meet, and slowly develop a relationship (the guy falls for her at first sight by the way, while Shao Shang is terrified of him for like a good third of the drama, which was pretty fun to watch). And besides their love, one more thing that they have in common is - they don't forget and don't forgive.

And while they seem to influence and make each other better in some ways, this vengeful streak in both of them doesn't diminish in the slightest.

Cheng Shao Shang continues to resist her mother, the methods of which become more and more extreme, other people in court and seemingly the rest of society in their attempts to change her. She wants to preserve her sense of self no matter what. She retaliates every action against her tenfold, and would rather break than bend.

And Ling Bu Yi, while getting softer around Shao Shang and the people he trusts, in matters of dealing with the conspiracy seems as if possessed by something very dark that is eating him alive. He deals with most problems that arise without hesitation and with ruthlessness that seems almost sociopathic.

The climax (I'm trying very hard not to spoil anything, appreciate me)

And as we slowly uncover what really happened with the massacre, suddenly Ling Bu Yi's behaviour starts to make sense. What he had experienced was absolutely horrific. He had to hide his trauma behind a mask for years in order to get closer to his goal. All that fucked him up completely, made him who he is now, and it shows, and it matters to the story! Finally!

There is a choice that he has to make, a peaceful life with a person he loves the most, or revenge, no matter the consequences. The fire that has been burning within him makes that choice for him.

This all culminates at a certain birthday banquet. That whole scene, the fight, the reveal, the look on the dying man's face!!! No forgiveness. Absolutely delicious. MOAR BLOOD, MOAR!!!

Oh, but we're not done yet! Not only do we have the revenge, we have the aftermath!

The General made his choice, and Cheng Shao Shang, while still battling with her own demons, holds him to it. This scene, which I desperately want to call a Wedding one, even if it technically isn't, is also amazing.

And Cheng Shao Shang meanwhile, parallel to Ling Bu Yi's bloody bender, does something which involved much less murdering, but which completely blew my mind. She does not. Forgive. Her mother. She just doesn't. And holy shit.

No matter in what part of world you live and what kind of parents you have, filial piety is considered a given. Does not matter if they are just not great or outright horrible, you have to understand and forgive them, because tHEy arE FAmiLy (I'm projecting in case you haven't noticed). And in this Chinese historical drama, a girl who was abandoned and then abused by her mother, who is spiteful and always pays in kind, disregards all that. And she does not forgive people that wronged her, no matter who they are.

Anyways, watch this drama, it's great

[shivunin]

Dragon Age Fic Recs

In honor of the Just Leave a Comment Fest, and with no particular theme, here are a few of my favorite Dragon Age Fics:

(If you wrote one of these fics and want me to tag your blog, please let me know and I'm happy to do so!)

**Always check the tags before jumping in; this list is no exception.**

Origins: 

be my mirror by ella_vellan: (T; 5,798) Alistair & Morrigan. Alistair meets Kieran for the first time in Orlais. The dialogue in this feels so well-paced and authentic, and it really navigates a fraught situation with grace. One of those fics that feels bittersweet in the most cathartic way. 

a gentle, beating heart by rynleaf: (M; 5,115 Words) Warden/Zevran. The Warden finds out she is pregnant sometime after Origins and puts off telling Zevran. The epistolary pieces of this frame the underlying story so well, and the flow of the fic itself is extremely well-paced.

A Man’s Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: (M; 35,135 Words/9 chapters) Zevran/Warden Soulmate AU. Honestly? This Surana cracks me up and I adore this fic. She is just having absolutely none of his nonsense. No thank you. Also, the implications of a soulmate-identifying mark are really well-explored here.

Dragon Age II:

see me bare my teeth for you by calypsid: (T; 2,978 Words) Fenris/Hawke vampire AU. This one has really good pacing and Fenris’s POV is really effective. Would absolutely read way more about the dynamic between this Hawke and Fenris. 

to hold you by the edges by vesperics: (T; 4,059 Words) Fenris/Hawke wound-tending set sometime in Act 1. I am a sucker for wound-tending anything, but I really enjoyed the way this fic explores Hawke and Fenris’s early dynamic and the way she navigates his boundaries about magical healing. 

River Stone by loquaciousquark: (M; 45,633 Words) Fenris/Hawke. Hawke is captured and subjected to a botched Rite of Tranquility. Hawke survives by pretending it worked while Fenris tries to find her. The pain in this fic is so delicately and thoughtfully depicted; it might be my favorite hurt/comfort fic ever. There is an art to writing something that hurts like this while still making the catharsis of resolution feel earned, and this author absolutely knows how to do it right. 

Inquisition: 

Portrait of a Man by Dulcidyne: (T; 3,136 Words) Cullen/Inquisitor. Cullen sits for a portrait. Love the dynamic of person vs. role here, and the idea of how someone is depicted potentially outliving who they actually are. A fic I would hug if I could. 

Truth-Telling by todisturbtheuniverse: (M; 3,988 Words; CW: Fantasy Racism) Adaar/Josephine. Adaar tells several stories about how she lost her horn, but saves the truth for Josie. There are so many great pieces in this about the faces shown to people we trust vs. people who pry for information. Love the almost-but-not-quite together state of their relationship here, too. Yearning, my beloved. 

Port in the Storm by kvella: (E; 89,445 Words/19 Chapters) After nearly hooking up, Cullen and Josephine navigate their tensions while trying to build a memorial for Haven. A lovely slow burn! Characterization is enjoyable and consistent, smut is well-written, and the tension is palpable. The sections involving Josie’s family were some of my favorites.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Polaroids.

Phos!Reader × (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Gojo being himself, Gojo being concerned about the reader, probably the fluffiest part so far, still pretty sad, mentions Phos' defection at the end, brief mentions of Haibara, Riko and Geto.

Notes: The urge to post like 5 parts of this a day😔 I'm tryna pace myself and like post once a day but I already have like 5 more parts done, perhaps I like this idea more than I thought😭 maybe I'll post mini snippets about phos, like a Playlist or smthn to listen to while y'all read, idk, might add songs to certain parts? Expect me to post about Catharsis and Catharsis only for a while tho💀

"Gojo - sensei?"

Gojo turned to face you, seeing your silhouette in his doorway. He almost wondered if this was a dream, pulling up his blindfold to look at you. It had been a good few weeks since you'd approached him, approached anyone for that matter.

"Y/n! My beloved student, it's been so long." He grinned, standing up and running to you comically. You didn't move, letting Gojo wrap his arms around you, forehead against his chest. You didn't hug back either, however.

"Ah, I know this is sudden, but could you do me a favour?" You asked, bashfully.

"Of course! Now, what does my lovely, precious, adorable student need?" Gojo used his animatedness to hide his concern and relief.

"Can- can you go out with me?"

Gojo paused, eyes widening as he pretended to blush, fiddling with his hands and swaying like a school girl.

"B- but, you're my student, that- that isn't allowed." He said shyly, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Not like that! I just want to go to a store." You huffed in annoyance.

This was how you found yourself walking through the crowded streets with Gojo, in search of what you were looking for.

"What are we looking for anyways?" He asked. Although you hadn't noticed, Gojo had been using his cursed technique nonstop since you left Jujutsu Tech. He refused to take any chances.

"You'll see." You sighed. It was winter. The air was cold, and your face was practically buried in your scarf, hands stuffed into your pockets. You hadn't worn your uniform in a long time, settling on sweatshirts or one specific hoodie Yukio had leant you that you never got to return.

Gojo watched you, noticing the little changes in your appearance. You had gained confidence and strength, back straight and head high, the jacket you were wearing looking ever so slightly less oversized than it had before. You were always covered from head to toe, your body composition something you often found embarrassing, not to mention hard to explain to normal people.

Watching your back as you walked in front of him, Gojo really noticed how things had changed. You had never previously walked in front, always settling for standing back and walking in silence next to Megumi.

You were an awkward but energetic kid. Always smiling, always happy, watching out for the group, making sure no one was left behind. You had reminded him of a girl he once knew, one he had failed to protect. And a cheerful boy who used to hang out around Nanami.

Now, however, you reminded him of someone else. Someone who had meant the world to him. His one and only best friend. And he refused to let you walk down the same path as him.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed the shop you were looking for, stopping in front of it. You looked at Gojo for a second, handing him your bag.

"Please wait outside with this, sensei." You said. And with how bright your teal eyes were in that moment, Gojo couldn't say no.

When you left the store, you had a plastic bag, the contents still concealed. You led Gojo across the street, to the park, letting him watch you in curiosity as you began opening the box inside the packet, assembling whatever was inside.

You had your back facing him, feeling embarrassed as you rushed to put what you had bought together. It was going to snow soon, and you had to be quick.

"Sensei! Y/n!" Gojo turned at the voices, eyes widening when he saw his other students returning from a mission.

You finished just in time, holding up your brand new camera and taking a picture of the moment Gojo noticed them. Capturing their smiles and excitement in the first snow.

Although Gojo and the others hadn't realised it, you had built up your resolve. Your fear of forgetting everyone had built up, and now you had found your solution. Even if you did forget their faces, you would never forget the way they made you feel.

Not even a year later, however, Gojo could only question what was going through your mind. Your room was empty and clean. Bed made neatly. And in the centre, was the only part of you they had left, your camera. The memory card was still in it, full of photos of everyone and everything from your team to Shoko and Nanami. Photos of everyone's birthdays, of a cat you had seen that reminded you of Gojo, of Nobara's favorite crepes, Megumi's demon dog, Yuji's disgusted face after he had eaten one of Sukuna's fingers. And a note on a piece of white paper was on top of it, with only the words: Thank you.

[pbjelly90]

I should absolutely be going to bed now for work tomorrow, but I finished vol 8 of Jeweler Richard tonight and just wanted to put down some thoughts and feelings I had on it, even if they’re not all particularly coherent or in any real order. May add more later on.

SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 8 OF JEWELER RICHARD AHEAD

A lot of folks found vol 7 a bit hard to read, and this one still had some heavy themes, with the treatment Seigi faces from the house flippers, the hurt and misunderstanding within Richard’s family, and the shadow of the butler’s group and Octavia and their plotting amidst it all. But I still found a lot of joy and catharsis in this one that made it a very moving read and maybe in some ways easier than 7.

The biggest theme of this book for me was mothers and their children. Richard and his mother Catherine, of course, but also his mother and grandmother, and Seigi and his mother. If vol 6 was cathartic in helping Seigi realize he does not have to become like his father, that he is not somehow tainted by his past suffering with his father, he is worthy of love and care, and that he can cut his bio father out of his life completely and move forward to heal, then this touched on a different type of painful family relationship. Someone you’re very similar to, close to, clash with, become distanced from, but you still have some feeling or care for each other. You can get under each other’s skin. No one sees Richard the way his mother does, and vice versa. Seeing their journey in this book gave me a lot of feelings and was very relatable. Sometimes its the family members you were closest to who can make you the angriest. Seigi was such a good supportive friend to Richard throughout this and their love was very evident. One of my favorite scenes was when Richard and Catherine’s tension finally came to a head with her argument about how he treats Seigi and Seigi finally gets to speak up and set her straight.

Richard seeing then just much Seigi loves him and would stay by his side, unlike past friends who’d sided with his mother, was so touching. Then Catherine testing Seigi at the end. I think she was just as touched, after the initial anger subsided. This book presented a really human, fallible, nuanced view of motherhood. Hearing her story about being called beautiful and then it all stopping really shed some light on what must have happened between her and Richard’s father, her mind went there as soon as she saw the Amazonite. She wants better for her son, despite any of their bickering. I was happy to see them get to a place of maybe a little more understanding at the end with Richard calling her Maman. Maybe through Seigi’s support, he was able to move past some of his old hurt from that time with his childhood friends at the villa. Catherine even seems in a better place, knowing her son has someone like Seigi by his side.

Seigi’s own attempts with Hiromi at the end really broke my heart, but it was very realistic, and I’m still proud of him. He’s grown so much. Instead of getting too down or upset, he accepts that’s not where they’re at yet and recognizes his own part in that. They would have a lot more healing to do to try to make any change, if they can, but he reached out and has given their relationship more thought after all of this. I hope he can go see her and his stepdad soon. I could feel his relief that his stepdad was home now and she was safer. I hope he can return to Tokyo and feel better there in time too, he deserves it. His homesickness and his happiness to see Haruyoshi in this volume really touched me too. I’ve always felt a bit split between two countries and could feel a bit of how he did to hear the language of his home. 💕

Random other thoughts, in jumbled order:

I want to hug Jeffrey and for him to have more friends, no more playing the “villain”, give him all the souvenirs. Him pretending he doesn’t read Seigi’s blog was gold lol

Jeff, I too want to give Seigi headpats

Hugs also for Haruyoshi and Henry, they’re so cute I love their friendship

Loved Haruyoshi and Seigi’s conversation about being “off the rails” and forging their own path, and how much they connected meeting up this time after college and supported one another. Their friendship is lovely and it felt like a warm hug seeing them have fun and laugh together

Seigi feeling okay enough to take photos and put a few on his blog, and even post a blog at all, was such a sign of his healing

Richard probably should have warned Seigi more clearly about how some folks in the countryside might treat him, but I understand he didn’t want to worry him that all people might be like that one couple either. I’m happy Pierre was good to Seigi. Also Richard is human and imperfect too and that’s okay, he realized the potential error in not warning him, stood up for Seigi and apologized. Catherine should have listened closer when Seigi told her he was going to paint, and Seigi I wish had resisted that whim to help, but I understand where Seigi was coming from, and Catherine’s got her shortcomings and that can’t all change at once

Seigi recalling the rules of Etranger not to discriminate after this 🥺 coming full circle with understanding them and with understanding the feeling of Etranger being abroad

Catherine wanting to help roll up Seigi’s pantlegs to wade in the river—how many times must she have done that for young Richard during his childhood in their summers at the villa 🥺 some motherly instincts are still in her, there was some real care between them. Richard remembering she's lactose intolerant. They mean something to each other

Vince I’m sure you have a good heart and your reasons and all but I still kinda wanna throw hands with you sometimes. Stop being so mysterious and cryptic. I figure he’s trying to look out for Octavia and maybe Seigi somehow, but his method of playing the “villain” aggravates me far more than Jeff’s does so far. He even makes Seigi go bark bark sometimes xD

The conversation in the hole with the treasure HOW DID SEIGI WALK AWAY DURING THAT? He compartmentalizes like no other. Richard was really showing his feelings more in this volume. For a while I was unsure if he had a fever or was blushing furiously from embarrassment, shame, or some other overwhelming combo of feelings. His praise of Seigi and questioning why he would stay by him… oof in the feels

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” RICHARD TOOK ME OUT xD Seigi.exe stopped working

Seigi saying he’s not “especially vulnerable” to Richard’s sad face, ah the unreliable narrator evidence continues to pile up

Him reaching out towards Richard before they go to sleep 🥺 they were adorable sharing the room

Richard blanket burrito, honey I hate mornings too, he wanted Seigi to see him “well coiffed” 😂😂😂

Richard keeps getting compared to Sherlock Holmes in this volume and plays a violin, thank you for the food, Sensei. He was already British, very intelligent and a boxer, I’ll add this to the list

Seigi’s and Richard’s happiness during the conversation where Richard calls Seigi his friend was so so adorable and precious, these cute fools can’t even walk properly after lol

Is French solitaire similar to mancala or am I way off? That’s what I was picturing

Richard and Seigi would be very cute on a tandem bicycle

Them both wanting to take panoramic photos after big moments to remember them, cuties, anytime Richard borrows a line of Seigi’s

Loved all the artist references in this one, pander to the art nerds please yesss, once again thank you for the food

All the actual food sounded so delicious. Seigi just casually whipping up bouillabaisse from an online recipe his first time 🤌🏼 *chef’s kiss*

All the times Seigi wanted to make Richard sweets, but also the time he WITHHELD THEM to get Richard to cooperate and talk 😂 I’m convinced I hallucinated that scene and I just read it today, I wanna reread

In the early parts, Sensei loves to fake us out and build suspense by making the reader think we’re gonna see Richard / have Richard and Seigi reunite 😆 It happened THREE times this vol with Jeff (as soon as he described the person’s skin as sickly I was like I can’t see Seigi saying that even if Richard was ill, but aww Jeff is going through it), then Haruyoshi where Seigi kept being so vague and just saying he was meeting a friend, and then finally Catherine whos doing the most entertaining herself with Richard cosplay to test Seigi 😂 Sensei got me good EVERY TIME

He may frustrate me at times, but I like Vince’s gamer side and his fashion sense. Gimme the phoenix jacket and the pink sneakers thankss. Probably the only time he enjoyed himself in this book was geeking out with Pierre about FPS games

There's a theme of masks in this book, of people behaving differently or performing a role outside of their true selves, for whatever purpose: Jeffrey playing the villain, Catherine playing the hostess, Vince playing Octavia's spy. But all these characters have sides to them underneath this that are hinted at or shown outright, and that mask slips away. Seigi can see through Jeffrey's and Catherine's pretty well, but he's still figuring out Vince

Seigi and his new doggo Jiro 🥺 I NEED THEM TO BE SAFE

THAT CLIFFHANGER?!?!? VINCEEEE

Will probably edit this to add more as this book spins around in my brain further until the next volume. Formatting on my phone is the worst so my apologies if it’s all over the place here. 😅