#and that feeling of being Stuck is honestly scary and isolating and there's a lot of self-hatred in that (at least in my experience)

[uncanny-tranny]

I often see this impulse from other trans men* that involves hypervigilance of being one of the "good men" who set ourselves apart from the men who hurt others, and I wonder if this ultra-policing actually prevents us from being "bad"

I wonder if agonizing about doing everything "right" is only contributing to poor mental health of trans men* because you are seeing a distorted, monstrous version of yourself, somebody with whom you have to kill off. It forces you into this space of having to be perfect, to beat yourself up over any perceived infraction.

And I just don't think it's an effective measure to ensure we are "one of the good ones." Constantly treating yourself as the beast, treating yourself like a leper who has no place in the civilized world? How does that ensure that you both treat others well but also ensure that you aren't fucking miserable every single moment you're not alone?

[yanderes-galore]

can i rq yandere fluffy AU springtrap? maybe something hes hunting the reader down inside the ‘horror attraction’. idk, i just want sum scary for the stinky, rotten bunny

Sure! This may be easier now that the Fluffy AU has some sort of plot.

Just a warning. Fluffy AU! Springtrap is much different than normal Springtrap. He acts more like an insane Springbonnie here.

Lost... but found

Yandere! Fluffy AU! Springbonnie/Springtrap Scenario

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Mentioned death, Stalking, Obsession at first sight, Blood, Disturbing descriptions, Vomit mention, Gore, Family death mentioned, Forced relationship (dubious on the type), Springtrap acts like a feral animal at times, Implied Fluffy AU! Springtrap/Springbonnie has some sort of personality issue due to isolation, Betrayal from both parties.

The idea of discovering the origin of rumors is an idea many would call stupid. Honestly, you'd agree with such a statement for the most part, but here you are.... You were looking for an old dilapidated building that was rumored to exist on the outskirts of your town.

Supposedly there were experiments that went on there in an attempt to create life. Yet another story to essentially tell humans not to play God. The idea of such a discovery intrigued you.

Perhaps you really did take after your father... deep down you knew those rumors weren't really rumors.

The place was real, deep in the woods with plants threatening to grow into the metal paneling. Your father worked there when you were really young... he never came back. In fact a lot of people didn't come back after working there according to the stories.

You were determined to discover just what went wrong... craving closure for what happened to your father so long ago.

You wouldn't deny that what you were doing was stupid. Yet you were willing to make sacrifices. In your bag was food with water, a flashlight with batteries, and first aid. You weren't sure what you were going to find...

But as you approach the large metal building with wildlife covering the exterior...

You're sure you'll find out.

---

Upon entering the large metal building, breaking the electronic lock to push the gigantic metal doors, you're met with a repulsive smell. That should've been your cue to turn back... only for the large metal doors to become stuck after malfunctioning due to the newly damaged lock. You shouldn't have expected any of this technology to work at all.

Your shoes squeak across the floor and you fight the urge to vomit. The smell was similar to rotting meat and old metallic blood. Upon looking closer you see dried puddles of the stuff... the larger pools coagulating into what looks like a gelled substance.

Yeah... this was a mistake... but since the death of your only known living parent, who else did you have?

You'd be alone either way.

Your footsteps echo in the large building as you explore. You flinch softly at the slightest of sounds, never feeling truly alone. Such a thought was not comforting.

Perhaps... deep down... you sensed something following you. Skeletal claws lightly clicked through the shadows while you walk deeper and deeper into the building. There was no turning back... and you were being hunted.

Dead eyes follow your body, gaze never looking away. It's been a long time since the rabbit had a plaything. The others either died or lost their minds. Other creations roamed this facility... yet they were heavily wounded.

Many lost their senses. The rabbit recalls an old friend had even managed to escape. But ever since his little... massacre... the building was more dead and boring.

The moment his predatory gaze locked on you... he felt excitement. The rotten rabbit eagerly followed you, making it known to those other creations that he was top dog here. You are his prey... his hunt...

His newest friend.

---

You had seen the horrors this building had to offer soon enough. Creations without eyes... face... limbs even, roamed this facility blindly. Some could pick up your smell... but strangely enough... they never gave chase long.

You sit on one of the cleaner parts of the floor, pulling out a makeshift ration. You sigh, hoping to find another place to escape yet also find some sort of clues. Even without clues about your father... you could put two and two together.

Upon opening your ration, you hear a noise. You pause... heart beating quickly. Clicking of what sounds like claws is heard before stopping. Your eyes skim the dimly lit area before stopping on a hunched over figure.

Seemingly on its hands and knees or squatting in the shadows around a corner, a set of greenish eyes stare at you. You look at the rotting creature in fear, watching as it flicks from you to your food. You squint at the creature.

One of its ears is seemingly bitten or rotted off. Its feet are skeletal, torn rotten fleshy tendrils droop over the bone with bits of blood. All over the body were holes of rotten flesh... like the others, it looked zombified. You could barely tell it was some sort of rabbit.

The smell of the beast and building makes you ill. Looking down at your food you decide to not eat. Instead... you toss it to the beast with the intention of luring it away. You see the rabbit twitch, gaze swapping to the food and tilting its head. You then see a rotten paw snatch the food and the beast chow down eagerly.

You watch carefully before standing up and slowly walking away. The beast stops eating the food, eyes snapping towards you before growling. You pause... and it stops.

"What a lost soul...." The beast rasps, gaze never once leaving you as it finishes its meal. You could only assume it was male due to the masculine voice. "Poor thing... did you willingly walk into this beast pen?"

"You can talk...." You whisper. The rabbit looked amused, stand up to his full height. He towered over you even though you were a good few paces away.

"All of us can. It's just that many have lost their minds. Some are still very kind, some are more... sadistic. You're lucky I found you."

"... what makes you say that?"

"There's a bear here who would do unspeakable things to you... a couple foxes and chickens, too. Honestly, it would do you good to trust me." The rabbit grins, a grin you don't trust. "I'll try not to bite."

You keep your distance with a frown. You had to play along or this one may just kill you here. You had a feeling he was only so talkative because you bothered to feed him....

"What do you gain if you help me?"

The rabbit's ears droop, seeming to frown.

"I only want a friend, dear. It's been so long since I saw a human such as you. Care to tell me about yourself? A name? Your purpose here?"

You sigh, you needed some sort of ally here. You give your name to the rabbit beast and explain your intentions. He appears to test the name on his tongue before nodding.

"My father used to work here..." You admit, the rabbit humming and tilting his head. "I was looking for clues of his disappearance."

"It sounds like fate brought us to meet." The rabbit jokes. "Call me Springtrap, dear..."

The rabbit grins and steps forward, leaning down to meet your gaze. The smell stuns you.

"I think we'll be great friends."

---

By this point your nose progressively grows numb to the smell of the building and your undead guide. Springtrap, the rabbit beast who holds a strange choice of name, has been the beast to help you in your strange quest.

What he said before was somewhat right. You had seen many more of the strange creatures so similar to him. Many were somehow in worse condition than him....

You had asked Springtrap if he knew of any alternate exits. The rabbit gave you a vague answer but promised to help you in your search. In exchange, you served as his companion.

Springtrap thought when he first tried to hunt you that you'd just be a toy he could get rid of later. Turns out... he liked you more than he thought. Plus, it had been forever since he had any human food.

The benefit to being the 'alpha' creature here, being one of the first created, was no one dared to touch you. Springtrap could only imagine what would happen if another beast got their hands on you. Oh... the gore was almost tantalizing.

Springtrap thought your motive was amusing. Your father worked here? How sad... your dad may have been a victim of the rabbit. He'd never imply such a thing to you, however.

Another thing he didn't plan to let happen was your escape. As sadistic as he is due to his isolated rotting brain... he'd be a fool to let his little human go. After all... you and him were friends now.

It didn't seem like you had anyone else to go to based on your passive conversations anyways. Isn't that a reason enough to stay beside him? You're both rather lonely....

Part of him leftover from when he was known as Springbonnie still yearned for a friend...

That's why he plans to keep you.

Even while you looked at busted mechanisms around the building, he knew you couldn't escape. Even if you managed to open a door...

You couldn't escape him.

Your conversations were always mundane. Even then the rabbit found them pleasant. It was always small things.

"Did you ever play games here?"

"What was this place like before?"

"How long has it been since the shut down?"

Springtrap faintly recalled games he used to play with a handler or two. The place before... used to be great until he died. The shut down... he wasn't sure how long it had been.

All he remembers is fighting and boredom. He didn't even have Fredbear to torment. All he had was himself...

But now he had you...

That's all that really mattered, right?

---

Springtrap forgot how it felt to have a friend. He thought they were just like toys. You play with them... then get rid of them.

With you... that wasn't how he felt. He liked seeing you vulnerable yet didn't want to hurt you. Seeing you collapse on the floor, exhausted and in need of sleep, didn't make him feel like he had to finish the job.

He wanted to hold you... though his smell would surely make you vomit... again.

Instead, Springtrap dropped his sadistic persona and sat beside you. You made him more in touch with his Springbonnie self instead of his newer identity. He liked it...

He loved you.

In his mind, you belonged here. He'd claim you as his and make your home here. The issue was how to get you to stay....

The rabbit lays beside you, matted fur fluffing softly once his body hit the tiles. His eyes never leave you and your resting body. He knows you'd hate this but...

A clawed paw pulls you closer, despite you twitching in your sleep.

Surely you wouldn't mind if he held you like this? Feeling your warmth on his fur made the beast smile. Springtrap... Springbonnie... was no longer forgotten.

He'll keep you with him one way or another.

---

Betrayal was an emotion that Springtrap remembered. He had faced it when he was locked in the facility like the rest, a test subject for some unknown project. He hated the feeling...

Looking at you now, he was sure you hated it too.

How else would you feel in this situation? The beast who said he was your friend and guide was now pinning you to the ground, growling. You found a way to escape... and he wasn't having it.

He knows he's hurting you... although you are hurting him. He doesn't want to face betrayal anymore. In fact, he feels good when making someone else feel that pain.

The rabbit would be an idiot to let you leave. You're his friend... and you would not abandon him. He wouldn't allow it.

He hated it when Fredbear left. He hated it when he was tortured by Afton. He'd rather die than let you leave.

You cry underneath him, claws digging into your flesh. He smells blood and his eyes are blown wide. You're in pain...

Perhaps it's deserved.

"Why would you try to abandon me?" He hisses. "No... we're supposed to be friends now!"

He scratches you... you sob as a result.

"We're going to be together... forever...!"

Springtrap growls, leaning closer. The stench still violates your nose and you yearn for fresh air. Springtrap laughs at your struggling.

"Don't look so sad... remember what I said before? This must be fate!"

Springtrap turns you to face him, grin wide.

"You were going to die once you entered here anyways. At least allow me to keep you until then~"

Your sobs are prompts ignored. Springtrap only holds you closer in his matted fur and cooed. You were a fool and you knew it...

Maybe you really were fated to die here... like your father.

[biceratops7]

Rambly thoughts about Ed and reading people:

Honestly, I think a big source of conflict for Ed is the way he both processes and presents social cues. In other words: very neurodivergently.

He canonically has a hard time understanding non literal language, to the point where it’ll cause him to be panicked or irritated. We can see this heavily in episode 5 on multiple occasions. When entering the party he mimics Frenchie (?) saying “please” despite obviously not understanding why he’s supposed to be doing it. Then when Gabriel and Antoinette start their whole “not THE Godfrey Thornrose?” shtick, he quickly gets confused by the hyperbole and exasperatedly asks if they’re deaf. Not to mention he doesn’t pick up on the party goers seeing him as basically exotic entertainment until the mockery becomes extremely blatant.

Another way this manifests is that he relies on people’s words rather than their body language or surrounding context clues. A big reason he’s so annoyed in episode 7 is because he thinks they’re being eaten alive by bugs to actually look for treasure, using a method that is both embarrassing and ineffective. The fact that Stede just wants to spend time with him and have a souvenir to remember it by goes completely over his head. Once Lucius bluntly tells him the trip isn’t literally about monetary gain, he gets into it.

Then in episode 8 we see how Calico Jack takes advantage of this. Ed actually thinks Stede and Jack are similar. He can’t easily tell the difference between Stede’s genuine kindness and care for him vs. the phony crap Jack pulls. Which by the way is a HUGE red flag considering they had intimate relations in the past.

Not only does Ed have trouble with reading social cues, he’s also extremely and truthfully expressive… a very bad combo for an environment where trickery and manipulation are common place. It essentially means that he has to work really hard to tell what everyone’s true intentions are while they can read him like a children’s book. With enough well placed interaction they know exactly what makes him tick, good or bad. I also have like, no ability to successfully hide my facial expressions and it’s a scary place to be in. There’s a reason I still wear a mask in places where there’s no mandate. It affords me emotional privacy without having to painstakingly be aware of myself at all times.

And the thing is, he knows these things about himself. Here you see him practicing facial expressions in a mirror before he meets someone new.

He knows that it leaves him susceptible to manipulation and normally uses hyper vigilance and isolation (minimizing the chances people get to actually talk with him) to compensate as best he can. “The old Blackbeard would’ve seen me coming a mile away.” He’s finally in a place where he’s safe enough to drop the incredibly exhausting task of making sure no one’s gonna exploit his disadvantage, and unfortunately that will sometimes have consequences.

In a similar vain, Ed’s beard did the same job as my Covid masks. When it’s gone during such an emotionally turbulent time you really feel how difficult it is for him to cover up the heart stuck to his sleeve without that aid. There’s a solid few seconds in the blanket fort with Lucius where he’s trying to hide that he’s about to cry and discreetly collect himself but gives up when he realizes the bottom half of his face already gave him away. Like I said, it’s an annoyingly meticulous process and there’s lots of room for error.

Ok now buckle your seatbelts cause I’m about to make you very upset /lh.

All of that is why Ed probably looks back at this moment now and sees yet another incident where he let his guard down and was tricked.

[aleprouswitch]

Hi there. Really appreciate your blog and the time and consideration you put into your posts. I hope you don't mind me talking about mental health, but you are one of the only people that I've seen that openly discusses this and I really appreciate it. I'm currently going through a very bad depressive phase and having uncontrollable panic attacks. On top of it already being scary to deal with, the stigma and isolation is another unhelpful layer on top of this.

I have also grown up in a very low social economic background and as I get older, I realise how much more comfortable and wealthy others around me are, and find that quite isolating too. I never feel good enough. My partners family are quite wealthy, and they critize my weight, my appearance ("when are you going to start dressing your age/normal") the fact that I don't want children, the fact that we can't afford a house. It's overwhelming.

I'm sorry to have a heavy message, but I just wanted you to know that your posts really help me and I feel less alone, and the world needs more unity now of all times. If you see this and read it, thank you.

This is an incredibly kind message and I'm glad that posting about the struggles I've had with mental health over the years has served as a source of inspiration and comfort for others. The combination of poverty and mental illness does a number of things to unravel someone's potential and their sense of self-worth as well. I try to explore these themes in my work because, of course, I've lived it.

I haven't had an easy life and have gone through things that I'm not really privy to discussing on such an open platform. I have Major Depressive Disorder and Complex PTSD from things I experienced as a child, teenager, and as a young adult. I grew up with very little money and with parents who weren't supportive of a lot of the things I wanted to do with my life, at least when it came to artistic matters.

Experiences I've had with being "othered" for not growing up with money, especially experiences going to a high school that was mostly made up of upper-class families, destroyed my self-esteem for a long time and honestly, I'm still recovering from the ways I was subtly made to feel inferior over my socioeconomic status and my mental health problems growing up.

Talking about these experiences has been a positive thing for the most part. Of course, there are some assholes out there who will try to use your trauma against you, but that's on them. I'm not interested in doing the whole "fake happy" social media thing where I only post these generic life updates and never show my struggles. I want to see the humanity in others and I want people to see me as human, too.

Please take care of yourself and keep fighting back. We're stuck living in a highly oppressive late-Capitalist system that is growing more and more fascistic and authoritarian by the day, and we have to find little ways to subvert all the conditional that this system regularly subjects us to. That's part of what inspired the title of my blog, "Learning to Unlearn" - we have to unlearn what values have been assigned to us in the name of greed and capital.

[homiro]

Tagged by the lovely @merryandrewsworld who is determined to never let me feel isolated. Thank you. <3

Were you named after anyone? No. But the options included a Saint and one my great-grandmas, who was a witch (I'm dead serious. This woman was so terrifying that my male progenitor who acts like he's tough shit was terrified of her. But according to everyone else she was actually lovely. One of her sons died underwater because he got stuck in some seaweed while dive fishing and couldn't set himself free. She swam underwater to get him knowing fully well he was there and barely needing anyone to tell him where he was)

Do you have kids? No and I like kids but I think I wouldn't be able to break the cycle and would be a terrible parent so I don't want any.

Use sarcasm a lot? Not really, no.

First thing you notice 'bout people? Their energy and the way they speak about things and themselves. I know it sounds weird to talk about energy (I feel the "vibes" /hj) but it's true. And in real life, I've never been wrong about someone's character.

Eye color? Very dark brown

Scary movies or happy ending? WHy not both? That'd be fun. I'm the target audience for scary movies, also, because I like watching them but I get so immersed that I get scared the whole damn time.

Special talent? I can crack my right thumb with noise several times in a row. Is that a talent? I can also move my nostrils very fast. I guess those are my party tricks lmao uh, I can sew and I can mould clay and I write but like... eh. Idk.

Your hobbies? Listening to music, reading, writing, stressing over nothing (it's an extreme sport /j), swimming when I can, painting mandalas, and a bit of gardening.

Any pets? Yeah, a dog called Teddy and a canary bird called Frankie

Playing any sport? Uh, does swimming count?

How tall..? I'm 166 cm

Favourite subject in school? Language classes. All of them. Or I wouldn't have gotten an MA in the stuff and being proficient in 7 languages would be a waste. But this shit isn't making me a lot of money lmao so I guess it is a waste.

Dream job: I do not dream of labour /hj honestly? Writer. yeah. I said it. But it's so unrealistic.

Ah, I'm not tagging, I feel like most of the people I have here are like old acquaintances and we know enough info about one another. But if y'all wanna do it, do it. Nothing's stopping you. If you follow me, and you feel like sharing stuff about yourself, do it. People who care will like it and people who don't care will just scroll along and forget. And there's nothing like too invasive in these questions, so why not?

[lkimball02svad]

Week 1 + 2

For this project, we used Adobe Photoshop to create 2, six-word memiors based off personal memories, something viewers could relate to, or something random/creative. It was a little tricky to find a good photo from Dall-E Mini to best represent my memiors. My first memior says "Feeling isolated over and over again" because I felt like a lot of people could relate to the feeling of being stuck in their bedrooms during quarantine by themselves. Everyone was in isolation for a year and I can imagine it drove people up the wall with how repetitive everything felt and how lonely it must've gotten. I felt this AI image of the bedroom fit best because, in my mind, everything was so black and white. My mind started to shut down because I was doing anything. My second memior says, "Sing that song for me again..." because my boyfriend always sings to me in the car and it honestly makes me fall in love with him all over again because I'm wasn't ever used to people opening up to me so it's always a special moment to me. It was a bit more difficult to find an AI image for this one because the ones that I was getting before had very morphed faces and they looked a little too scary for my liking. I eventually found that one and I thought it fit perfectly.

Overall, the Dall-E Mini AI generator was fun to use and I liked seeing how it worked and all the cool images it could produced based on a few descriptive words. I am also very familiar with Adobe Photoshop. I have been using Photoshop for a few years now and have gotten to learn and love the program.

[royalberryriku]

// vent, personal

TW: depersonalisation, trauma, moodiness, mania, delusional thoughts

I've been struggling a lot recently as far as mental health goes. I keep feeling as if I'm losing grasp on who I am, as if I'm constantly remaking my personality each time my trauma overwhelms me and each time I am confronted with feelings I haven't been able to quite move on from. Of course, there are some integral parts of me that I understand and don't think have changed, but it's as if my ways of coping and the way I talk, think and operate always shift when I'm at a certain level of stress.

I'm unsure of myself and sometimes it's just scary operating with a new set of feelings and thoughts that seem different to before the stress knocked me off balance. It's like I'm constantly being broken up and remade into different shapes, none of which feel comfortable or like myself. It's disorienting and confusing. Not painful, but it can be sad sometimes when I feel like I've changed yet again and struggle to go back to how I was. It's like every time I get comfortable, I fall over and can't find where I was before.

I don't really know how to deal with it, how to communicate it to people around me or what to do about it or if I should even do anything. Maybe it's just how it is and maybe it's just how I cope? But I don't know, I'm still disorientated and confused. Sometimes, I feel like the only way to not mess up relationships or annoy people with the sudden change in demeanor is to isolate myself or to avoid contact until I ease into myself again, and by that I don't mean that I feel like a burden per se, more that I'm just...scared, I think. The entire situation where I feel like my thoughts, feelings and identity shift over and over is confusing and it's hard to know how to act around people with that over my head. It's a lot of stress on top of the fact this entire thing comes from stress.

Not to even mention that, within this, I'm having thoughts that don't even make sense (sometimes it's as if I can do anything as if I'm invincible, while other times I feel like absolutely everything will go wrong and I become extremely paranoid). I feel like I'm floating most of the time; a mixture of numb, scared and confused with the idea that none of those feelings even matter because "it'll be fine so it's okay". There's a lot of reasons behind why I may be thinking that way too, be it mania or the result of how I was brought up to pretend stress away and act happy whenever I felt sad or unwell. There's a whole lot of overlap between everything, which just makes it even harder to understand and actually get a handle on how to manage it. It's like swimming while not even knowing if you're in the shallows or in the middle of the ocean. I just feel stuck and clueless of my own situation to the point that in and of itself becomes frightening and stressful.

Overall, a lot of this though is probably related to the C-PTSD; or more specially the fight or flight that never stops for me. I'm always in flight and that can manifest as pretending to be fine while stressed, numbing myself or just plain changing how I think and feel to cope. Anyway, yeah, I'm having moment. Or maybe several these past, uh, weeks? Months? Maybe longer honestly. This isn't new for me or a first, this has been going on for years and I still have no idea how to cope with it all that well.

[dzpenumbra]

7/11/23

Last night was horrible. I got 3 hours of sleep. I just fucking gave up and got up. I was so upset that I started writing a post for a mental health subreddit looking for some kind of advice on how to deal with this upstairs neighbor situation without being "the neighbor banging on the ceiling with a broom".

I didn't post it. I wrote like 10 paragraphs which, to anyone who has ever read this blog, knows that's pretty short for me... I deduced pretty clearly that if these people are waking me up through my box fan, my noise cancelling earbuds and white noise in the earbuds? There really aren't a lot of other options as far as sound reduction goes. That's just... where I'm at. So... the choices I have are...

Avoid the problem: relocate my sleeping spot - this is nearly impossible. My mom insisted I throw out my old mattress (which likely wouldn't fit in the rental car for the move) and she ordered me a Helix mattress which I lugged upstairs in its box. Okay, I mean... technically it would be possible for me to relocate the mattress, I'm not going to lie there... but it would be quite an undertaking and I would have to have my next steps well prepared. Then... what the fuck do I do with the loft space? ... Well... I could move my art studio up there... and I could just sleep in the main room. Use the main room as sorta... a studio apartment... and use the loft as my art workspace. The issue with this? My art space would be way the fuck away from my computer, so streaming art is out of the picture. Then I thought... well, what if I move my computer? My standing desk is way too heavy to bring upstairs. Like.. getting the mattress downstairs would be worlds easier than bringing the desk upstairs, and it would not be easy. Another option would be... basically abandoning the upstairs and just living downstairs. It just all feels a bit extreme.

Adapt: fix my sleep schedule - I don't really think I have a choice but to do this, honestly. Completely rearranging my entire house just because some people don't know how to like... take their shoes off... or walk softly before noon? It feels a bit extreme. But honestly... I feel so fucking stuck with this sleep thing.

So... let's talk about it. When I first moved here, I used to go out and smoke weed at like 4AM, then go right to bed. It would be dark out. I was a bit freaked out at first, but... I did it fine. I was watching those PTSD videos back then, ones on doing visualization of a safe place right before bed, and doing relaxation exercises. And it really did help. It's really the primary reason I made it through that transition as easily as I did.

So... what changed? Why am I scared to go to bed before dawn? Could it really be as simple as... Max died? And now I'm alone in the dark without a nocturnal partner to share the space with me? Could this just be a grief thing?

I guess we'll see. Honestly, I don't even know if it's going to be difficult. I don't even know if going to bed while it's still dark will be scary for me, honestly. It's been so long since I've even tried. There's just an invisible wall there. So... tonight will be a litmus test, we'll see what that wall really looks like.

I'm running on 4 hours of sleep. I stayed up until the maintenance guy came over, he was super friendly, the same dude that fixed my door (when the deadbolt wasn't latching) and did that inspection a few months ago. He was in and out really quick, just took a look at it, said he'd order the new part and try to get over here tomorrow to fix it. Fingers crossed. I'm going to make sure we test run it so he can see if it's wobbling and make sure he keeps that fucker tight as a drum so we don't have this problem again. I'd do it myself but I don't have a 15' ladder on hand and... to be frank... it's not my fucking job. :) Ahhh it's so relieving to finally be able to say that. HOLY SHIT. <heavy sigh of relief> Dude, when you are in isolation, living completely alone for extended periods of time... you start noticing pretty quick that if you want something done... you need to do it yourself. Not because you're the best person for the job, or because someone else might fuck it up, or you're the one who will do it well or you will do it the quickest... rather, if you don't do it... it doesn't get done. And that was fucking super eye-opening in the way I interacted with others... others who were omega-codependent. The ones who would constantly shame and guilt me for asking for help with super simple stuff. They all had people around to give them a helping hand, but they were too proud to ask for it. Pride. The most dangerous of sins, because it is the root of so many other ones, and it can also be connected to virtue in the right light... so it can often fly by undetected. But this... this manifestation is not a nice one. It's people who dedicate huge amounts of energy to hiding their problems, even from themselves, rather than admit that they need help. Those are the ones who I guaranteed would not get a finger lifted from, because - in their logic - "no one helps me..." Well... is it a coincidence that they never ask?

After years and years of being on this proverbial island, doing everything possible myself because I lack the income to hire others and I struggle with a big trauma/anxiety wall trying to make new friends, I'm finally in a position where I have assistance (reliable assistance) available to me. It feels very... secure. I feel cared about. Even though I'm just one of many many many people in this building, I still feel like... if something goes wrong, they will have my back. And that is a very new feeling outside of therapy, where it is contractually obligated. And here, I mean... it's contractually obligated too... but they're still nice people.

So yeah, the dude looked at the fan, he's going to come by either tomorrow or the day after. I did yoga, I ate, I drank a pot of coffee. Then I took an hour nap. I passed right out. And I woke up with this fucked up taste in my mouth. I still don't know what exactly caused it, but I had some really old Neon Sharpies I was drawing with on the string lights I was customizing today and that chemical smell matched the taste pretty close. Maybe I had some on my fingers and they made their way into my mouth in my sleep? I don't know. But yeah, I spend the rest of the evening doing designs on those lights, which is coming out pretty damn cool. And preparing the beads, which came out pretty damn cool. The green ones are definitely pale, but they came out more of a subdued lemon lime yellow-green, which is totally cool by me. They look great, I'm happy with them. I went back and forth on whether I wanted to put symbols on them individually, or decorate them further... but I still wasn't sure about medium, or what symbols... yeah... so I decided to hold off on that and just run this batch and do something more ornate on another batch. I just wanna keep things moving and let my inspiration inspire new pieces rather than alter current ones. I think it's a good plan.

So... I got the first layer of tung oil on the plain beads, the green ones, the blue ones, and two beads painted with Posca opaque paint pens that I was going to do test runs with acrylic sealer on. I want to see how they do with the oil. I'm very curious to see how that turns out. They should be fine, I'm just... I'd prefer to do a test run. And if that works well, that's a big win because that ink does not soak into the wood, so I can do very detailed ornamentation with those. Just using ink, even just archival ink like Micron pens, will soak into the wood and you risk what we used to call in tattooing "blowouts", where the ink just... blows out... it spreads and bleeds unintentionally. These paint pens won't do that, which is super nice.

So yeah, they're soaking up their first coat. I skipped the display table today because I didn't want to sand it. I can coat it any time, it's not a big deal. And I skipped exercise today because I'm running on two days worth of fumes. I didn't want to push myself too far. Next day is the last one on the workout plan, so that's a milestone. I'll search for a new workout and revisit the meal planner tomorrow.

But yeah, now it's 2:30 AM and I'm lined up to go start getting ready for bed. Fingers crossed things go well. This is gonna be like... sleeping somewhere new for the first time, with how long it's been. But I really need to remember... it's not new... it's a return to how things were. And the big sell? If I get to sleep now? There's a smaller time window where those people upstairs will be able to wake me up.

We'll see how things go.

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

[heyyyharry]

Till Death (a Halloween one shot)

…in which Y/N and Harry share a flat but he cannot see her.

Warning: DEATH, MENTAL ILLNESS, MENTION OF SU1C1DE AND SELF-HARM (inexplicit). There's a happy ending tho 😬

Inspired by Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride and this song.

Word count: 3.9k

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“Oh, you’re home!” she said as he shut the door and kicked off his shoes. His hair was a mess, his eyes dark and weary. He leaned against the wall and released a long heavy sigh.

“Trouble at work?” she asked. He didn’t answer. He never did. But it was okay. She was used to it.

She watched him trudge toward the couch and slump into it with his head buried in his hands. It was so quiet. It was always quiet here, and most of the time, she enjoyed the silence. After all, it was all she ever knew. But she also liked his laugh and his voice when he talked on the phone. He never talked to her. He was a great listener though, and she liked to talk anyway, so she had nothing to complain about. He never interrupted her, never commented; he only listened.

He rested his head on the couch with an arm over his closed eyes. She sat down beside him, her legs together, her hands on her knees.

“Guess what I did today,” she said.

He let go another long breath.

Silence.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell ya.” She rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin. “I made a new friend. A bird. I saw him on our balcony this morning. I named him Steve. Can you imagine? A bird named Steve. I think Steve likes me as much as a bird could like someone–”

“Oh, shit!”

She flinched as he jumped to his feet.

“Where are you going?” she asked, slightly worried.

“Shit, I forgot,” he murmured, shoving his fingers into his already unruly hair as he reached for his phone on the coffee table. He sat back down and unlocked the screen. His handsome face was illuminated as he typed something into the chat. She rested her head on his shoulder and stole a glance at the screen, just enough to see who he was texting.

It was that name again.

She’d seen him text this person every day for the last couple of weeks. She didn’t know who they were or what they looked like or if they were male or female. All she knew was that they always got Harry’s full attention.

She thought it’d be rude to read other people’s texts, so she never did even though he would never stop her. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t dying to know what they said to each other. She would watch Harry as he talked to the person either on the phone or through texts. And he would always look so happy whenever a notification came and he saw the person’s name.

She bet they talked about more interesting topics, not just birds with human names. That thought alone gave a throbbing feeling in her hollow chest.

Sometimes, when she was with him, she forgot about its absence, which was good, because she wanted to forget.

But whenever she saw his eyes sparkle as he talked to this person, she would remember that there was somebody else out there with that thing in their chest, somebody he could feel and see and hear…

...and love.

Then she would remember what he was, what she was, and what they could never be.

After all, she was dead.

She didn’t remember how long she’d been dead. She only knew that she’d been alone for too long. Time didn’t really matter when you stopped growing older. She was stuck like this. Forever 21, as she would joke to herself. She didn’t know how old Harry was, but he had a job that stressed him out every day, so she assumed he was older than she’d been when she’d died.

She’d been trapped in this flat ever since. She’d watched people move her stuff out and other people move their stuff in. She’d forgotten about her loved ones or if she’d ever had them in the first place. She didn’t have any recollection of the life she’d had. She couldn’t even attend her own funeral. If she’d known that she’d be stuck in the place where she’d died, she would have probably not chosen to die here. She missed being outdoors, seeing new people. She wondered if she’d still be in love with Harry if he weren’t the only person she knew.

Honestly, she had never been in love when she’d been alive. She knew that, because even though the memories ceased to exist, she still would have remembered what being in love had felt like. It was funny, actually. When she’d had a heart, she hadn’t been able to use it, and now that she didn’t, she could feel it every day. Could someone love without having a heart? She didn’t know what love felt like to be sure that this was love, yet she knew that she’d rather spend an eternity with this man than to reincarnate into someone else.

They’d been living together for two years. Before him, there had been an elderly couple and a family of four. They’d been fun and lovely. But Harry was...different.

He was alone like her. She felt a deep connection with him in that way, as it was rare to find a person who appreciated isolation and not let it drive them insane. Almost everyone was terrified of being alone. Harry, however, found comfort in being alone. He always knew how to entertain himself. He read books. He sang in the shower. He cooked dinner for himself. He’d call his family to tell them about his day.

Sometimes, as she watched him talk to his mum and sister, she wished she remembered her own family. Would she still want to be alone if she remembered them? Well, she didn’t want to be alone now that she had him. It scared her sometimes. An attachment was a scary thing when you knew that you’d forever be temporary to the people around you. Like the elderly couple and the family, one day, Harry would leave, and she’d have to get used to new flatmates who would most likely leave again.

But that was for the future. Right now, what they had was enough.

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“I’m seeing someone,” Harry said one day.

Y/N didn’t want to eavesdrop, but she was sitting by the window talking to Steve while Harry was on the phone with his sister. It was the first time Y/N heard him say the person’s name. He was smiling the entire time as he talked about her. Y/N loved seeing Harry smile, so it didn’t matter what made him smile. She just wanted to see him happy.

He told his sister that the woman he was seeing was coming over tonight. He seemed excited. Harry had only ever looked this excited except for when his favourite show came on. That was how she knew he loved this woman as much as he loved that show, which was a lot.

“Can I join you guys tonight?” Y/N asked him when he ended the phone call.

He put his phone back down and looked right at her. If she had a heart, it would combust right then and there. But what she didn’t expect was him marching towards her, thrusting his hand right through her chest and shutting the window. Steve flew away. Harry turned and left.

The place where his hand had been burned with its absence, leaving her frozen as she watched the bedroom door fall shut. He couldn’t feel her, but she could feel much more than a dead person was allowed to feel.

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Dinner was nice.

And so was the other woman.

It was funny how Y/N would refer to her as ‘the other woman’ when she’d been the one getting all Harry’s attention. She was sweet, blond-haired, great smile. She sat at Y/N’s spot at dinner. Y/N didn’t mind as she wasn’t eating anyway, yet it saddened her that she didn’t get to tell Harry her boring stories; the other woman was doing most of the talking.

Harry listened to her and laughed at her jokes. He never responded to Y/N that way. She’d been fine with it before, but seeing how he interacted with someone else made her want to vanish into thin air.

It was the first time in two years that she’d seen another living person beside Harry, and yet she had never felt lonelier.

After dinner, Harry asked if the woman wanted to spend the night and she said yes, so Y/N retreated to her spot – the bathroom. For some strange reason, she found comfort there. She would just get into the empty tub and lie there until morning.

Before Harry had moved in, she’d stayed in the bathroom at night while the living were asleep. Since Harry, she would usually spend the night outside his room. He’d always sleep with the door open and a lot of pillows. She didn’t want to be intrusive, but she’d heard him crying one night. His stepdad had just passed away and she’d stayed with him to keep him company, even though he hadn’t been aware of her presence.

She’d sat beside him on the bed as he’d cried. She’d told him that dead didn’t mean gone, that his stepdad might still be around, or have gone to heaven to get a new better life.

To be honest, she didn’t know if heaven existed for she didn’t get to leave this place, but maybe heaven only existed for the ones who deserved it. She was too good for hell, not good enough for heaven, so she was still here.

That night, as she was lying in the tub, gazing at the shadows of objects cast on the ceiling, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen at dinner. A happy Harry. A truly happy Harry.

She’d always wondered what he looked like when someone made him laugh so hard he forgot about everything else, or when he blushed because of the things someone said to him, or when he looked at someone like they were the only person that mattered. Now that she’d seen it, it felt like torture.

She would never make him laugh. She would never get to hear him call her beautiful or tell her jokes just because he wanted to see her smile. He’d never get to know her. That was the worst part. It hadn’t bothered her before, and now it was too late to undo her feelings for him.

She didn’t have a heart, but as she lay her palms on top of her chest and shut her eyes, she could feel it breaking.

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Ever since that night, the other woman would come over very often. It had hurt at first, then Y/N learned to get used to it. It didn’t mean it stopped hurting. She’d still feel invisible tears rolling down her cheeks every time they kissed in front of her. She’d spend most of the day avoiding them. It was hard to do so when she couldn’t leave the flat. She’d tried before. She’d tried to follow Harry outside, but the second she stepped through that door, she was back in the tub.

She was imprisoned in her own home where she felt like a guest. She had no one to talk to, and it had never been a problem before but now it was driving her insane.

Sometimes, she even wished that the other woman was dead. It was bad that love made her blind and envy made her cruel. Whenever that malicious thought crossed her mind, though, she’d think about Harry and instantly felt bad about wanting his girlfriend dead. It wasn’t a nice thing to wish onto anyone, especially when Y/N herself knew how overrated death was.

It wasn’t a solution. Just more problems.

And at the end of the day, it shouldn’t matter if she was hurt. After all, she was dead. Dead people couldn’t feel pain. This was just an illusion. Her pain wasn’t real. If Harry lost someone he loved, that would be real. And she’d take all the hurt just to keep him happy. Always.

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Tonight, Harry came home alone.

She asked him what was wrong, knowing he wouldn’t answer. He went straight to the couch and buried his face into his hands. She wondered if he’d forgotten to take his pills again. She’d call them his happy pills. He’d been taking them for a couple of months now. He was always so sad and numb without them. Lately, it seemed like he hadn’t been taking them.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s on your mind,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

Silence sank in. The heaviness in her hollow chest became too much to bear.

Then, his shoulders began to shake.

He started crying.

She’d seen him cry before, but this time she could feel everything he was feeling. And it was even worse for her because she could not do anything about it. When a person cried, they’d feel better afterwards. There was no better for the dead. Just forever numbness. Forever pain. Maybe she hadn’t gone to hell because this was her hell. What had she done to deserve this?

Whatever. This wasn’t about her.

She wished she could wipe away Harry’s tears and tell him things that’d make him feel better. She felt powerless. There was nothing she could do to help.

She sat and watched him cry for what seemed like forever. When he finally stopped, he took out his phone and texted the other woman.

This time, Y/N read.

They’d broken up. The messages didn’t say why. All Y/N knew was that Harry was madly in love with the other woman. He’d sent so many messages asking her to stay, telling her he couldn’t live without her. And she never responded to a single one.

“Harry…” Y/N murmured.

Harry shook his head gently as if he’d heard it. Then, he got to his feet and padded to the bedroom. The door fell shut, leaving Y/N with the uncomfortable silence that could smother her.

She started pacing back and forth outside his bedroom. Her head swam with half-formed regrets. She wished she’d done something to stop him from getting to know the other woman and falling in love with her. But what could she have possibly done? She was dead. She was a ghost, floating around, haunting this place. She couldn’t keep two living people from falling in love. She couldn’t stop the woman from breaking Harry’s heart.

But that was one thing about not having a heart, you’d hurt twice as much trying to protect a heart that wasn’t your own.

Something crashed.

Glass shattered.

The world stilled for a second as Y/N burst into the bedroom.

There he was. Staring right back at her.

But there was also him. On the floor. The real him.

Those weren’t his happy pills.

“Harry!” she screamed and rushed towards the Harry on the floor. His ghost stood there watching in silence as she tried to wake him. She couldn’t touch him. She could only scream and if he’d never listened before, he wasn’t listening now. “Harry, please wake up...Please wake up…”

She lay her palm on his chest. He wasn’t dead. She could still feel his heart beating. His skin pale and his breathing slowed. Half of him was still fighting to live and as long as the other half didn’t overpower him, he might be saved.

“Who are you?” asked the ghost standing beside her.

She looked up. The other Harry was looking right at her, not through her. This one could see her.

“I’m Y/N,” she said, still in shock.

“Y/N,” he echoed.

She’d heard him tell the other woman that he would repeat a person’s name so he wouldn’t forget it. He could hear Y/N, see her and now he knew her name. Her invisible heart swelled for a second, but then she could feel it, the beating of that living thing under his chest. He was still half-alive. But he wouldn’t be for too long.

“You must hold on,” she told his ghost, panting heavily as she started freaking out. “You can’t...you can’t die...you must...I don’t know....get back into your body before it’s too late.”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t want to,” he said, staring at himself, and then at her. She didn’t like the look he was giving her. It was as if she was an exotic animal and he was a curious child going to the zoo for the first time. “Are you a ghost?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, trying to avoid his gaze. “I-I died here…”

Silence.

“How long have you been here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember. When you’re dead, your memories start to fade. Now I don’t remember anything from when I was alive.”

“So there’s no afterlife?” Harry asked, his voice breaking a little. She looked up and saw him staring at his own body with a pained expression that could be regret. “You just...stay here?”

“I don’t know about the other ghosts, but that’s what it is for me,” she said, rubbing her arms.

“Aren’t you lonely?” he asked.

“Well, not really. I’ve got you.”

Her answer seemed to surprise him. He blinked. “But I couldn’t see you or talk to you.”

She raised a soft smile. “But I could see you and talk to you. That was enough.” Harry was giving her an expression she could not interpret, so she hurriedly went on, “Believe me. Death is overrated. You don’t want it.”

“But what if I do? I lost my job and someone I loved. I have struggled every day for the past few months, so why bother?”

“So you think it’s easy for me?” she asked. “I don’t have a heart, yet I still feel things and I can’t cry and the feelings won’t go away. They’ll still be here when everyone else leaves. Dead doesn’t mean gone but it’s the end of second chances. I’ll never get to celebrate my twenty-second birthday. I’ll never get to graduate. I don’t remember my family or if I ever had one. I don’t get to make friends. I don’t...don’t get to be loved…

“And if that doesn’t sound bad to you, just think about all the people you’d leave behind. Your mum, your sister. You won’t remember them but they’ll remember you. And they’ll have to carry the pain of losing you until it happens to them. I didn’t get to see them one last time because...if I tried to leave this flat, I’d just...just keep coming back here. I’d never get to apologise to them for abandoning them. I regret it every single day. And I don’t want it to happen to you.”

The Harry in front of her was quiet for a moment. The Harry on the floor was struggling to breathe.

“If I die,” he spoke, his eyes meeting hers, “you won’t be lonely anymore. Why are you trying to talk me out of it?”

She took a moment to think. Then, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widened as he parted his lips. He didn’t believe it. For the first time, Y/N could see herself in him. She wouldn’t believe it if someone told her they loved her, either. She thought she couldn’t be loved. That was why she’d chosen the easier way out. It wasn’t easy; she knew that now. So she wasn’t going to let him make the same mistake.

“You think no one cares, but I do,” she said, reaching for his hand. She held it, lacing her fingers with his. “So please hold on. If you fully give up, you cannot be saved.”

He looked at himself and then back at her. “Where did you die?”

A pause.

“The bathroom.”

Sadness set over his features. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, smiling. “I’ve never been better than I am now.”

“Harry!” shouted a female voice as the front door burst open suddenly and frantic footsteps rushed into the room.

The moment Harry saw the woman he loved, hope lit up his entire face. The woman screamed as she collapsed by his body and pulled out her phone to call an ambulance. She kissed his face and told him how much she loved him, that she was sorry, that she’d take back all the things she’d said, that she wanted to spend many more years with him.

Y/N felt herself losing grip of the other Harry. He started to fade. She tried to hold onto him, but it was no use.

And before he was completely gone, he smiled at her and said, “Thank you.” And she thanked him, too. For seeing her. And not giving up.

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Harry didn’t remember anything when he came back from the hospital. He got back together with his girlfriend, who finally moved in with him. They lasted for two years and their relationship ended on good terms. After that, Harry, now with the job that he loved, started seeing other people and stopped taking his happy pills. He’d got better. He was happy all the time. He didn’t remember his conversation with Y/N, but sometimes she’d catch him staring at the bathtub. She’d pretend that he could see her and she’d smile and wave. Maybe he could, but he didn’t want to freak her out. Who knew?

He moved out of the flat after a few more years. The last night he was there, she’d lay on the floor beside his bed as he slept.

The ones after him were fun. Y/N liked meeting new people. One couple even had a pet and she finally had someone to talk to. Still, sometimes she would think about Harry and wondered what he might be doing now.

One night, while lying in the tub, she discovered a tiny word someone had written on the bathroom wall.

Hello.

She’d been here long enough to know that it hadn’t always been there. She recognised that handwriting. Though she wished she’d found it sooner, it made her happy as she traced her fingers over it and imagined him thinking of her.

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Y/N didn’t know how much time had passed.

But Harry did return.

When he came in, she almost didn’t recognise him. He was an old man in a wheelchair. She’d overheard him talking to his caretaker that he wanted to spend his last days in this flat. He stayed in bed for that whole first week and she’d lie beside his bed and talk to him each night.

He died of old age.

One night, he went to the bathroom and lay down in the tub and fell asleep and never woke up.

She stood in the doorway, watching him.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she saw the same Harry who was young and handsome and wearing the same clothes as the day he’d first seen her.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

Apparently, when you died, you got to choose the age you wanted to be. She’d chosen to be twenty-one, the age she’d died. Harry had chosen to be twenty-four, the age he’d met the ghost girl who had saved his life.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

https://matthewfairchildfanclub.tumblr.com/post/622613826051932160/okay-im-ranting-because-i-started-re-reading-the

What do u think about this? I'm kinda struck. I didn't read it that way? It didn't feel ooc to me? I am just stunned how many ppl agree with this because...thar entire thing was cardan and jude being dumb and sad and... Jude is a strong protagonist and ever scheming and persistent but she's...like human? She has feelings and is allowed to be sad??? Idk it's just strange to me

okay first thing's first: i'm not trying to start beef with OP (or anyone who agrees with OP). that is their opinion. they're allowed to have it. Jude and Cardan aren't real, but the person on the other side of that blog is.

second. i really only briefly skimmed the post because, honestly, it's the same argument i've seen everyone who doesn't like QON make. they think because Jude wouldn't burn down villages to get back into Elfhame after having her heart broken, she is, therefore, OOC.

let me tell you why i, personally, disagree with that statement. (TW: discussion of mental health and dissociation under the cut)

i'm going to split this into two parts. one is more anecdotal and the other is more character based.

as you point out, nonnie, Jude is strong. she is fierce, she is determined. but again, she is human. with human feelings. teenage human feelings, at that.

anyone who is not convinced Jude would feel pretty shit for a while after going through her first heartbreak is either too old to remember the rollick of teenage emotions mixed with the legless lord of young love, or they've simply never had their hearts broken before.

if the first, they're looking at Jude's situation with years of maturation behind them, years Jude doesn't yet have at that point. i think people forget this sometimes. Jude is just a teenager. and they probably want her to keep fighting because it's what they didn't do, but wished they had.

if the latter..... oh, my sweet summer child.

when i was young and in love (kind of) and then suddenly had everything ripped away from me within the span of a month, i honestly couldn't tell you what happened that summer. because i don't remember. i was backpacking but all i remember is sleeping well into the afternoon almost every day. lashing out at my friends for stupid shit. not eating. taking every chance i could get to isolate myself. being fine one moment, then in the next feeling like i was going to burst into tears out of nowhere. i had my first dissociative episode. it lasted for three days.

now, i'm probably not as scary as Jude. but i'd like to think i'm stubborn and spiteful enough to warrant some shadowy semblance. what i became was not who i or anyone else wanted or expected me to be. i wanted to be angry and rage and seek revenge, but i couldn't. people expected me to get over it, but i didn't. i was just stuck in this awful liminal place.

heartbreak isn't a single moment where your heart is shattered and then you immediately begin to pick up the pieces. that's unrealistic. heartbreak shatters you and then steals what's left away into a dense fog and laughs as you fumble around blindly on your hands and knees, searching for the lost pieces of yourself.

so, as nonnie pointed out, it is okay for Jude to be sad. it is more than okay. it's what we should expect.

okay, now on to my character based argument. to me, anyone who has this interpretation of QON has severely misjudged Jude's character throughout the series as a whole.

it's true, Jude might put on the facade of tough scary lady with sword–and sure, to a certain extent that is part of her. but Jude is not inherently wicked or menacing or unforgiving, even if she can be at times.

just because we can be a thing doesn't mean we are that thing. mere adjectives simply do not have the breadth to define us, your honours. we exist in multitudes, or however the fuck that Walt Whitman quote goes.

i'm not going to comb through the entire series for moments where Jude is not scary or menacing because, frankly, there are a lot. if you're not actively looking for the moments where she is terrifying, i think you'll see her kindness, her gentleness, even at times her grace, quite plainly.

i'd also like to point out that the times in which Jude is any of those scarier things are all when she is literally terrified for her life. it's a survival tactic. be scared or be the scariest thing in the room. easy choice from where i'm standing.

now in terms of Jude's exile, Cardan is a little dumb here, but not in the fanon himbo Cardan way. just in the normal "dude madly in love" way. by exiling her to the mortal world, he thought he was giving her what she wanted: safety and a clever riddle to solve. because she can't break, right?

he also sent her away for selfish reasons. her safety was more absolute in the mortal world and he couldn't risk losing her again. plus, he wanted to show off his cleverness, smug prick that he is.

but what Jude actually wanted were the things he promised her in his vows: to be the Queen of Elfhame, and, ultimately, him. she wanted a place to call home and Cardan by her side. he took the only things she truly desired in the world away from her by exiling. so yeah, homegirl has every right to be sad.

to close, i think people with this perspective of QON have the same view of Jude as Cardan once did, and it comes from a place of well-intentioned misunderstanding. he thought she could not break. so did the anti-QON crowd.

they were wrong.

–Em 🖤🗡

more thoughts on Emotional!Jude

more theories & analysis

[hotspringfairy]

March 21, 2022

It's spring time, and I'm definitely feeling a spirit of renewal.

I've been doing some at-home therapy, specifically working on childhood trauma with the help of a therapist who has an ad-free, sponsor-free YouTube channel on the subject. Channel name is Patrick Teahan LICSW. It's been very helpful so far.

On top of that, I've been to a couple weddings recently where I've gotten to reconnect with old friends, including a childhood friend who feels more like family to me. I'm estranged from my family, and it's hard to describe how nice it was being around someone who knew me before I was 18.

I've also been working on improving my relationship with my best friend, who really is my family now.

We've also finally been going out and doing things and seeing people! For 2 years, mostly during Covid, my best friend and I were living in his parents' basement to save up for our house. In between saving as much money as possible and quarantine, we really haven't done much in the past couple of years. We bought our house, restrictions are being lifted, and we're finally getting out again!

Seeing how everyone responded to the isolation caused by Covid really opened my eyes to how my self-isolation had been affecting me. I honestly feel a little called out seeing everyone struggling with their weight and feeling depressed and such being stuck at home. Besides not getting to go to concerts or eating out as much, quarantine was pretty much how I live my life anyways. Maybe that's part of why I struggle with my weight and often feel depressed . . .

I don't want to be so isolated anymore, but people can be difficult and the isolation is comfortable. I was home schooled from 8th-12th grade, after all 5 of my siblings had moved out. During that time, my parents were both truck drivers and drove as a team. They took me with them. We didn't have a house the 1st year, just all our things in a storage unit and we lived on the truck. They bought a house that we visited for maybe one week every 3-6 months. I sometimes stayed with extended family in Oklahoma. Other than that, I spent most of 5 years with just my parents (and our dog) traveling the U.S.

Sometimes it was really cool, but I needed socialization, privacy, to become my own person. I never learned to cook or clean or take care of myself properly. Even before the truck, my Dad was often away at work and my Mom was so caught up in her own problems that I was neglected. I was a very responsible child, so I was often left to my own devices.

2 months after I turned 18, they dropped me off in Colorado to live in the dorms and go to college. I've struggled a lot since then. It's taken years and a lot of work and effort to just be a somewhat-functioning adult.

The isolation calls to me. But I hear a new calling- a calling to open myself up to people, put myself out there, and make genuine human connections. It's scary and often difficult, but I feel ready.

My journey to a healthier life has taken me on some unexpected twists and turns. I knew that I had to do something about my weight because of how badly it was (and still is to a lesser degree) affecting me physically. What I didn't see is that my weight was just one stream from an ocean of issues inside me. All interconnected and affecting every part of my life. It's not just about the food- it never has been.

[lokiondisneyplus]

Holy crap. Look at Kate Herron's shirt. When the Loki director pops up on Zoom, she's donning the most glorious image anyone will see since we laid eyes on Alligator Loki: A Teletubby wearing the Loki horns. Are the Teletubbies Loki variants? Sure, why not!

"I got it on Instagram," Herron says. "There's an amazing comic book artist and he designed it. He made it into a T-shirt for me because I saw it and was like, 'That's incredible. Can I get it for the press junket?'"

Herron, no big deal, just pulled off an MCU miracle. Entering a mammoth franchise with, notably, some of Sex Education's best episodes under her belt, the director deftly brought a plot involving multiverses and Richard E. Grant in a cape and superhero mumbo-jumbo to brilliant, beautiful life. Following Loki's tear-jerking, mind-bending finale, the series has been dubbed by critics and fan's alike as one of Marvel's best efforts—which is no small feat. Of course, we needed to ask Herron how she stuck the landing. Following the most epic finale you, me, or any Teletubby can remember, Herron talked to Esquire about the Miss Minutes jump scare, filming the finale's introduction of He Who Remains, and why she won't return for Season Two of Loki.

ESQ: How are you doing?

KH: I'm good. I think I feel very relieved that I don't have to sit on the secret of He Who Remains anymore, It was a very big secret to hold, but for an important reason, right? Because it's such a good character to be launching. So yeah, I feel good.

ESQ: Loking back at your old interviews, you have such a good poker face when you're avoiding spoilers, but you're also incredible at giving aggregator crumbs.

KH: I play a lot of board games, so you need to be quite good at strategy and poker faces so people can't always read your hand. So I think weirdly board games have prepared me more for working with Marvel than anything else.

ESQ: I have to start with the Miss Minutes jump scare. What went into the decision to make her a memeable, creepy apparition in that moment?

KH: I love horror, and my executive, Kevin Wright, knew that. Me and him were talking about Episode Six and I remember that he was like, "Oh, maybe you could do something creepy of Miss Minutes." And I immediately was like, "We have to do a jump scare!" Because I haven't got to do a good jump scare in anything yet and I really wanted to, because a lot of my friends are horror directors. I was like, "I can't let them down." So I was really excited to have a shot at doing a jump scare. And Miss Minutes, it was really fun testing it because we'd kind of bring different people into the edit, me and Emma McCleave, the editor, and we'd just play it for them, watch them, and check that they were jumping when we cut it.

ESQ: One thing that I think is getting missed in all the craziness is that we see a peak moment of the love story between Loki and Sylvie. Where does the finale leave the companionship that they found in each other?

KH: When I started the show, that was always in the DNA of it—that Loki was going to meet a version of himself and they were going to fall in love. And that's honestly what drew me into the story, because I directed Sex Education. I love stories about self-love and finding your identity and your people. Loki is such a broken character when we join him, and seeing him go on this amazing journey with all this growth and finding the good points of himself in seeing her—I think that was very beautiful. It's also paying respect to the fact that Sylvie's in a very different place to him. She hasn't had the Mobius therapy session. She even says, in Episode Five, "I don't know how to do this. I don't have friends." You really feel for her because she has been on the run and her whole life has been this mission.

It's almost funny because these characters are thousands of years old, but it's almost teenage the way they both talk about their feelings for each other. I think everyone can relate to that, right? In any new relationship, there's always that kind of awkwardness and like, "Oh God, am I too keen? The important thing was the hope—like when Sylvie and him kiss, I think it is genuine and it is coming from a place of these feelings they have for each other. Obviously she does push them through that door, but for me it was a goodbye and it was with heart. But it's kind of a goodbye in the sense of like, I care about you, but I'm going to do my mission because that's where I'm at.

ESQ: I would pay for you to direct the Sex Education episode where Otis falls through a portal into the multiverse, into the main MCU.

KH: He really looks like a Loki as well, which is so funny. I always thought that. I was like Asa does look like a Loki. It didn't come to pass or anything, but it would be interesting to do a Sex Ed-Marvel crossover. I wonder who all the different characters would be within the MCU, but it would be quite funny.

ESQ: You're right, he could pull off a teenage Loki.

KH: Yeah, like a teen or a very young ’20s, maybe. But it was just funny because I was like, "Oh yeah, he looks a bit like Tom." I wonder how they could do it. I'm sure they'll find a way to do a crossover anyway.

ESQ: Can you just take me back to filming with Jonathan Majors? And you capturing him in such a compelling, quirky, scary way—I'm sure your direction was such a big part of that.

KH: I was just so excited because Jonathan is an actor that everyone was so excited about. He's like a chameleon in everything he does and he's so talented. I just feel as a director so lucky to have worked on this because I feel like I've got to work with some of the best actors out there. And when you're with Jonathan, you know you're in the presence of just someone really magnificent. For me as a director, it's giving him the space to play and feel safe. Because we filmed it all in a week, but it was a lot to film in a week. So I think it was really about creating a space where he could have fun and find this character because he's going to be playing him for a long time.

ESQ: What went into the decision to introduce us to the good guy first?

KH: I remember in the script, he comes up the elevator and it was so casual. I was like, "Oh man, that's so fun." And then Jonathan, when he plays it, he's relaxed. And I the thing he used to talk about a lot was that this is a character who's been on his own for a long time. Because at the beginning, we introduced him in a space in the universe that feels like this very busy, loud place, but actually, when we see the Citadel, he's surrounded by the Timeline and he's very isolated. Even in his costume with [designer] Christine Wada, for the idea of his outfit, he's a character who's existed for multiple millennia. So it's like, OK, let's pull from lots of different places so you can't necessarily pin down which time or which place he might be from. Also the fact that his clothes look comfy. They were like pajamas because he's living at home. He loved the idea of the office [being] the only finished part of the citadel and that the rest of the citadel was like this Sunset Boulevard kind of dusty, dilapidated space. And just again showed that he probably just keeps himself to his office. All those elements definitely fed into Jonathan's performance in terms of balancing the extrovert, but also the introvert of someone that would be living by themselves and only talking to a cartoon clock.

ESQ: It really is incredible how you pull a nail-biting finale with this battle of wits and dialogue.

KH: It was really exciting because I feel like Episode Five was a lot of fun because we got to play into all the joy of the different versions of Loki, but also just the fact that it was our big usual Marvel third act, right? Like it was where our big spectacle was as they were fighting this big monster. But I love that our finale bookends, right? We began with a conversation and we ended with one.

ESQ: I also loved that there was no end-credits scene—I think it makes the ending that much more impactful. Was there ever an end credit scene on the table, or any kind of a stinger?

KH: I think no, because weirdly, we never went after the kind of mid-credit sequences. I think we always just were thinking just of the story and where we knew we wanted it to end. For example, Episode Four, originally Loki was deleted and then we went straight to him waking up. And it was only in the edit I was like, “I think it'd be really cool actually. We should move that scene to mid-credits because then we'll really feel like Loki has died." Because if I watched that moment and then it went to the credits, I'd be like, "What?!" And then when we were talking about the best way to talk about Season Two, we were like, "Okay, well, let's do that like a little mid-credits at the end because that is exciting to confirm it in that way." I'd say we found both of those in the edit just because we wanted to kind of do it right and have a fun nod to something that Marvel does so well.

ESQ: Is there anything you can tell about the future of the story you've told here—or even where you personally would like to go with the studio or otherwise going forward?

KH: Yeah, so I'm just on for Season One. So I'm so proud of the story we told. I mean, it was amazing getting to set up the TVA and take Loki on this whole new journey. And I mean, I think we've left so much groundwork for his character, and as people see in the comics, there's so much more to be delved into. And I just am excited honestly to just see where all the characters go. Like, who is B-15? What did she see in those memories and where did Ravonna go and where is Loki? I think for me, we've set up these questions and I look forward to seeing them being answered as a fan in the next season.

ESQ: Absolutely. Well, can we please work on the Asa Butterfield Loki?

KH: I will call him and I'll be like, "You want to do some crazy Marvel crossover?"

[codylabs]

Metroid Dread looks awesome beyond reason, don't get me wrong...

But I'm not sure how I feel about the whole 'insta-kill' aspect. I get that they're trying to bring in more of a 'horror' angle to the series, (as evident by the title alone,) and I like what the E.M.M.I. robots do for the gameplay and the ominous tone of the adventure, but I do wish it wasn't just instant death as soon as it catches you; it makes Samus out to be pretty frail, and it doesn't match with the canon of the other games.

That same armor has been repeatedly slashed and stabbed by all 6 pointy ends of Ridley, it's been run over by the Thardus, sucked on my Metroids, shot at by every weapon the pirates has been able to conceive, she's even faced enemies wielding her own arsenal, on multiple non-consecutive occasions. We don't know much about the armor's mechanics or inner workings, but one thing we do know is that it doesn't fail instantly, especially to melee attacks; its hardened by that whole impenetrable energy system, and has been in every game. The closest we've ever come to an insta-kill was Mother Brain's rainbow beam, which was justified in that it took several surges to whittle through the shields, and was, to boot, designed by the same intelligence that made the suit in the first place.

So now in Dread a janky robot with a big blunt face knife is able to instantly pierce right through? It doesn't make any sense. That gameplay mechanic fits perfectly into the canon of games like Alien: Isolation or Among Us, where you're playing an ordinary, unarmored human up against a vastly-physically-superior threat, but Samus isn't an ordinary unarmored human, and honestly, those clumsy robots don't look all that strong. This all reminds me of Halo: Reach, where Kat was killed by a sniper. The player had spent the whole game facetanking these same sniper shots while wearing that same armor, so it's it just didn't seem fair.

The fix for Dread, I think, is obvious. Give the E.M.M.I. units a close-range cutting attack, (maybe a rainbow beam derived from Mother Brain technology, or the Omega Beam, or something similar,) and make the death quick, but not instant. Whenever one catches you, it instigates one of those cinematic quick-time events they introduced in S.R., where you wrestle with it. You grapple with its hands, and kick and smack its head away. If you beat the QTE, you free yourself briefly, and have a three-quarter-second head start to run again. But the whole time it's on you, it's drilling away at your neck with the rainbow plasma cutter or what-have-you, draining your shields away. If you fail to escape before your energy is depleted, it'll stab you with the syringe of evil, and then that's the end. So the encounters would still have the same terror and urgency to them, but it runs by the same rules as the rest of the game, so there's always hope, even if it's just a little.

Maybe I'm just being a fanboy Samus stan who can't stand the prospect of my fav being outgunned, but I really do believe that the armor is an important part of the game's tone and appeal. One of my favorite Metroid memories was during my first playthrough of Prime 1, when I was stuck down at the bottom of some shaft in the Phazon mines. There were turrets and fission metroids around me, pirates above me shooting down, a radioactive phazon pit below, I don't know how I got noticed by every enemy on the map at once, no competent Gamer™ would ever have allowed themselves to get in this sort of situation, and I thought I was gonna die (I died a lot on my first playthrough), but this time, I tanked it. I calmed down, ignored the interference screwing up my visor, started picking my shots and swapping between weapons, and a minute or two later, I made it out alive.

Metroid isn't only about the dark scariness of the monsters that lurk the lonely corners of space, it's also about the strength to overcome them. So it just feels weird that there's one rando enemy able to magically ignore that.

Idk.

Rant End

[pandoraborn]

Part three

(previous)

Characters: c!Tommyinnit, c!Ranboo Word count: 1598 Content: dark!fic, angst, ranboo-as-puppet, tommy-as-puppet, manipulation, heavy conversation, tommy is conflicted and depressed, mention of torture, mention of abuse, tommy&wilbur sibling dynamic, ask for tags.

---

He’s the only one who can’t really sleep. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him, but this time, it means he’s left alone with his thoughts. Ranboo can’t remember anything. He can’t remember how he got here, or why he and Tommy are stuck with two of the worst people on the server. He doesn’t even know how Tommy and Wilbur are even alive.

What had he missed in his enderwalk state?

It’s not the first time’s he’s blanked out and woken up somewhere different. This just happens to be the first time he feels guilty over it, because he’d blanked out in front of Tubbo. God, Tubbo. Ranboo has no idea what Tubbo’s thinking now, or even if there’s still even anything between them. His stomach is churning with guilt and nausea, because anything could happen at this point.

Ranboo forces himself to stare at Tommy. Tommy’s asleep, held tightly in Wilbur’s grasp. If he squints, he can almost see puppet strings protruding from Wilbur’s fingers and wrapping around Tommy, but Ranboo knows that’s just his vivid imagination at play. He knows Tommy wants this about as much as he does, which is not at all. But he’d also seen the way Tommy had leaned against Wilbur. It all reminds him horribly how little he knows about Tommy at all.

The kid had crumbled.

Everything Ranboo had heard about Wilbur had been negative, how no one liked him, everyone was glad he was dead. He’d even heard that Tommy detested Wilbur, but the way Tommy’s defenses had shattered...or the way Wilbur had called them brothers... it doesn’t make any sense.

Inching closer, Ranboo shakes Tommy, trying not to wake Wilbur as well. “Tommy?” He keeps his voice low, hoping Tommy hears him. “Tommy, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Tommy turns his head toward Ranboo, blinking his eyes open. “What?”

“Can we go talk in private somewhere?” Ranboo nods pointedly at Wilbur’s sleeping form. “Just the two of us?”

There’s a moment where it seems like Tommy is going to ignore him, but he’s de-tangling himself from Wilbur before pulling himself out of bed. They glance over at Dream’s sleeping form, deciding he’s not a problem either. The pair retreat over to a corner far away from the sleeping ‘guardians’, then Ranboo grips Tommy’s arm.

“Tommy, do you want this?”

Tommy stares at Ranboo for a moment, chewing on his lip. Shaking his head, he whispers a single ‘no’. It’s enough that Ranboo’s shoulders are slumping. But Tommy’s not done speaking yet.

“Ranboo, I have Wilbur back.”

“What is he to you?” Ranboo asks. “Because he sounds off the rails, if I’m being honest. You can’t possibly-”

“I don’t want this Wilbur. I don’t want either of them to do anything. God, I want to go home and stay home. I want my hotel, I want my friends, I want to be left alone. But... Wilbur’s here, and alive, and I don’t know how, Ranboo. I’m confused and honestly, kind of scared.”

“You heard what he said Tommy. He and Dream are going to destroy everything. They’re the bad guys. You don’t... we don’t...”

“I know. I know they’re the bad guys. Ranboo, Wilbur was like a brother to me. He was the only one I had for a long time. You...you weren’t here back then.” Tommy leans back against the wall before sliding down. “You weren’t here when Schlatt took over L’Manburg. Everyone acts like he was such a good leader but like. He exiled us on the day of the election. He had everyone try to kill us. We had to live out of a ravine, start over from scratch. That wasn’t exactly fun for either of us.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.” Ranboo sits down next to Tommy. “Is that when Wilbur started going downhill?”

“Yeah. Everything seemed to make it worse. Nothing I said or did made any difference to him. But I still had him. Yeah, he was bad and scary and turning into a prick, but I didn’t have anyone else. I was okay with our situation because I still had him and he still had me.”

“You stayed with him knowing he was going to blow up your country?”

“Yeah.” Tommy sighs heavily. “He picked me, Ranboo. Wilbur always picked me. That meant something. Because even now, when it feels like everyone else is against me, he’s still choosing me out of the crowd and making me feel like I matter.”

“You matter to a lot-”

“Shut up.” Tommy’s tone is harsh now. “You don’t get to say people care, not when you yourself have turned your back on me.” He points an accusatory finger. “No one was there for me. I was exiled alone. I was tortured alone. I was trapped in prison alone. I was killed. Alone. Do you see a pattern here? You think I don’t know what people are saying? I’m a menace, I’m as bad as Dream, I’m annoying. You even said it. You and Tubbo both talk about it.”

“That’s banter, Tommy. No one actually means it.”

“Wilbur sat there calling me his brother and promising nothing else would happen to me. I want the pain to stop, okay? I want it all to stop. I’m tired of hurting, I’m tired of feeling like I have to defend myself. I’m sixteen years old and taking on everything. Alone, again. You even have Techno and Phil on your side. I don’t even have Sam, I have his robot.”

“Tommy, if we run away and go back, we can fix it. We can talk to your friends, we can make sure you have people to talk to.”

“Ranboo...” Tommy trails off and turns back toward Wilbur. He’s silent for a long time. “Ranboo I spent two months in the afterlife, or void, or wherever the fuck I was. I spent two months with people who...yeah, they’re my enemies. But they welcomed me with open arms. They didn’t make me feel like shit. It was a shit place and I hated it, but I felt wanted for the first time in a long time. And then I come back to life, with Dream stood over me and... I have no idea anymore. I just want the pain to stop.”

“You can’t seriously be considering sticking around here.”

“What about you?” Tommy asks. “You really want to go back to a life where you have to hide from people? I’ve noticed you acting shady and avoiding everyone when the tiniest conflict rises up. Is that the life you want? Where you don’t trust anyone and you live in self isolation? Because I’ve been isolated and separated, and it fucking sucks.”

“I know it sucks!” Ranboo’s voice rises with frustration, so he hunches over and glances back at their still-asleep handlers. Dream rolls over onto his stomach and lets out a quiet snore. He turns back to Tommy. “Maybe I want it all to stop too. I want everyone to be at peace, but I don’t want to destroy an entire world for that to happen. This isn’t right.”

“Isn’t it?” Tommy scoffs. “What even is right versus wrong anymore? No one can do anything without being labeled as a villain or a hero. I’m labeled as a hero and targeted, you’re labeled as a hero because you can touch grass.”

“Tommy that’s not...mm. Okay.” Ranboo resists the urge to snicker at that. “I see what you’re getting at. But... you remember Dream is a monster, right?”

“Yes, and he’s torn both of us apart. I don’t think there’s any coming back from this. Everyone watched us leave the prison. You don’t remember because you were...whatever that was. But we enderpearled away. I wouldn’t be surprised if people thought we were in league with them already. People already hate me.”

“No one hates either of us,” Ranboo insists firmly. “None of this is our fault. You can’t think that way, or you might as well side with them.”

“Ranboo...”

“What?”

“...I don’t want to leave Wilbur.”

Ranboo waits for the cold, depressing shock to settle over him, but instead, he nods. He’d known Tommy was going to say that this whole time. In a twisted way, he can even understand Tommy’s reasoning. Seeing his brother figure come back from the dead has to be shocking; Tommy’s emotions are probably all over the place. This is only Tommy’s view, though.

“What about me though?” Ranboo’s voice cracks when he asks that. He could leave and go back, but...

“I don’t think Dream will let you.” Tommy looks away. “Ranboo I’m so sorry. Neither of us deserve this. But... what other options do we have?”

“We can leave! We can...we...” His expression crumbles when he realizes Tommy’s right. “Dream won’t let me, and... and Wilbur won’t let you...and that means...”

He remembers his earlier vision of Wilbur holding Tommy on puppet strings.

“Tommy, did we just lose our free will?”

Tommy doesn’t have to say anything. He doesn’t even have to nod, the stare alone answers everything. It’s depressing, but there’s one ray of sunshine in this dark reality. Only one: Tommy.

The pair continue to say nothing as they lean against each other. He doesn’t know when Tommy’s fallen asleep again, but he wraps an arm around him anyway. If no one else is going to look after Tommy, then he will, even if it means protecting him against Wilbur.

They’re stuck in this situation together, but Ranboo knows they can eventually get out together too. At least he has one person he can semi-trust.