#and wes was forced out of his self destructive spiral and forced to heal in galar

[desertsportshipping]

It's a screenshot because they sent it to the wrong blog, but you can't use Sand Attack on me, as I'm a Flying type >:3

Enjoy the little Rui extras.

Patreon - Etsy

[distraughtlesbian]

can i speak my truth ? can i keep it real ? there shouldve been more in-party conflict in blades 2. like obviously mc should’ve gotten to cuss mal out in particular when he was like You Dont Know What We’ve Been Thru as if getting kidnapped and forced into a magically induced coma and getting your blood stolen and having constant benadryl nightmares is a walk in the park lmfao, and also just gotten to talk more about what they went through and how it’s impacted them

but also there should’ve been way more beef between the other party members. like girl if i’m nia and i’m spiralling scorning sleep and food constantly hunting for a way to free MY GIRLFRIEND (!!) from the clutches of some goth elf cunt on top of making the fantasy catholic church christlike again and repressing my inner shadow demon and one of my friends is like “hesdeadjim.png give up also fuck you” and then fucked off to be an alcoholic pit fighter, i wouldve actually just thrown hands when we saw each other next. no magic no nothing just me and my nasty little fingers (covered in paper cuts from all the arcane shadow tomes ive been reading) coming straight for her eye sockets. staff of silverlake should’ve been nia’s weapon and she should’ve leapt into the pit in chapter 4 and clocked imtura in the skull with it.

like you bitches should be CRAZY!!!! you should all have DISORDERS!!!! you should be begging ravens perched on busts for RESPITE AND NEPENTHE from your memories of me !!!!!! the moon should never beam without bringing you dreams of ME and the stars never rise but you feel MY bright eyes. tyril should be half-mad with grief and stress he should be mumbling to himself and seeing mc’s silhouette in dark corners. nia should be clearly and obviously off her fucking rocker and constantly on the verge of self destructing and taking us all out with her. imtura should be constantly blind drunk so she doesn’t have to feel her grief or anything at all really. mal should have been in the wind the second it started looking like mc wasn’t coming back and nobody’s heard from him in months. kade should be in a bottomless pit of grief bc when he was stuck in the shadow realm we never gave up hope and we went to rescue him but now that the tables are turned he’s slowly losing hope and day by day and night by night we recede and he becomes more faithless. threep and loola should be inseparable sleeping in a pile together never beyond a wing-length from one another and keeping obsessive tabs on all the other party members no matter how far-flung across morella they are because they’ve already lost everyone and everything they knew to the shadow court once and they’ll be damned if they lose anything else. also kade and aerin should’ve built up a weird semihostile rapport bc once everything fell apart and everyone went their separate ways it was just the two of them in the whitetower palace and kade would go to his cell and sit out of arm’s reach to vent about his time in the shadow realm and his grief and hopes and fears. they both knew and loved mc, in their own ways, despite how aerin hurt them, and now they’ve both lost them, maybe for good. maybe one day aerin starts talking back

where is the SPICE where is the FLAVOUR? where’s the DRAMA where’s the OOMPH where’s the PANACHE? you cannot look at me and tell me these dysfunctional bitches wouldn’t fall back into their worst habits once the one person who held them all together up and vanished into the void. why am i not ending each chapter feeling like i’ve just gotten punched in the dick bc the love is so obviously still there and that’s why it hurts so bad. they should’ve put their whole budget and pussies into forcing the party to fit themselves back together even though they’ve all grown new sharp edges and keep cutting each other up. they should’ve gone full dark no stars about it. grief is an amputation but hope is incurable hemophilia you bleed and bleed and bleed, plants that are split down the middle dont heal they die, you are a language i am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read, what lived and died between us haunts me still, if someone asked me at the end i’d tell them “put me back in it”, i care what ghosts think of me, come back even as a shadow even as a dream, someone has to leave first this is a very old story there is no other ending to this story, etc, etc, you get it you understand. also the mc should’ve come back WRONG.

[kellterntempest]

OKAY *breaks down door* Time for my sad Boom!Stobotnik au thoughts!!!!!!

@inkbats-writing 's tag killed me in best way and inspired me

Stone is the one who filed the divorce.  

He believed everything they built together was broken, that he felt broken. (Hello internalized ableism) He thought he'd become just like another of Eggman's malfunctioning projects that the Doctor needed to fix. Stone tried to carry on like nothing happened, but Eggman refused to let it go.

"We can't just go back to normal villainy again! You almost died, just look at what's happened to you! You're acting like nothing happened!"

Nearly losing the love of his life had changed something in Eggman and he reacted in extremes. 

Out of guilt, and fear, Eggman forced Stone out a huge part of his life - swearing up and down it was because he was protecting him and also, that he was the supervillain husband and he always knew best. but the trust in each other was crumbling.

Stone kept refusing Eggman's helicopter caretaking, feeling lower than he'd ever felt in his life. Feeling rejected, useless and distrusted. He couldn't sleep, barely eating, and his recovery was hell. 

Pain, jealousy, bitterness, and resentment all winding up in both of them. 

Eventually at one point, Eggman's feelings of self righteous resentment finally slip through. "It wouldn't BE so difficult if you weren't dragging me down so much! After all I'm trying to do for you, you just don't seem to appreciate any of it! It's just mope 24/7 with you!!"

"Me? I don't appreciate you? You've got it the wrong way around!"

Throwing words that cut, out of pain and frustration. Needing to feel seen and heard, without either really thinking about the damage hurled.

"What was I thinking – I should never have given you a part in my plans. You should have stayed where you were, as my accountant!"

"Do you really think you can win anything without me? Without my designs? My ideas? Where would you be without me?"

"You arrogant prick! You think that lowly of me, all this time? I'm the brains, I'm the brawn, I don't need you to be a big bad supervillain!"

Silence. Then, "Sometimes I wish I never met you."

After days upon days of this spiraling and endless fighting, Stone called his lawyer. He decided to leave. They'd be better off apart, he didn't want to hear any more of what Eggman had to say, didn't want to hear apologies, or promises to fix things. He'd take his chances alone. He thought he would finish recovering on his own and be rid of it all. No more powerlessness, no more pain, no more feeling small and smothered. He thought for sure that Eggman didn't want him anymore, not in this state. 

And after the long, arduous and stressful divorce proceedings happening over months and months time, they finally both signed the documents….

And Stone regretted it instantly. Every day, he wished his old life back – he wanted his body back and their relationship back too.

But there was no going back. He had to learn to live with and accept his present life, what he lost, and his injury that would never heal.

And it was a brutal riot. Stone, a usually quiet, polite and composed man, went off the rails like a complete wrecking ball to cope. One can only bury feelings underneath for so long before they explode.

Meaningless destruction, senseless arson, sabotage, all sorts of skullduggery to get back at Eggman.

It's just what supervillains do. 

Stone dove back into the world of villainy headfirst, back into his circle of mafia friends on the mainland and started his own villainous campaign. He'd prove that he would be just as powerful and unstoppable. Chasing his dream for reasons that he told himself were right and justified.

But deep down Stone missed Eggman so, so much. Cried so many tears, angry and heartbroken. He kept his wedding ring on his person, in a locket attached to a silver cord. Half in spite, half in heartbreak, to remind himself what he needed to do. That he couldn't give up, and fail Eggman, again, like Eggman had said he would (at the end of one of their heated fights)

[the-nysh]

Sort of a continuation from a previous ask (I pointed out how much I love Spiral Garou being so graceful) but something you said made me think - what if Garou's next "form" or power up without monsterisation (because as gorgeous as it was, Spiral Garou was still created when he was trying to become a monster) is very lithe and graceful as that form was, and he begins to fight in a similar way, twirling and graceful, once he's reached his true limit breaking potential? :o

Was it one of these asks, perhaps? lul in before Garou reaches his true final form as the most lithe & graceful, slippery & dexterous, prodigious ballet/figure skater/mixed martial artist 'hero' athlete ever seen~

That was a little while ago, but I'm going to go out on a more serious limb and say Spiral Garou was likely not when he was consciously doubling down on becoming a monster. :O On the contrary, it was probably his highest natural 'peak' (the closest he ever got to naturally breaking his limiter - his next closest peak was the centipede chop) as fully himself. But his growth was immediately stopped and stunted on that route, the moment his will faltered, he lost focus, and he succumbed a bit to the guilt/pain/everything catching up to him, before he reverted and mentally reflected a bit then doubled down on rejecting his human identity towards the goal of a different route - becoming encased in the volcanic-like defensive 'monster' armor instead. Like an evolutionary branch that split off in the opposite direction from where his Spiral form would have otherwise taken him to greater heights. :O At least, that's how I interpret it (provided we never get any further canon explanations about it beyond heavy inference). Because his Spiral form was certainly a tease if Garou had continued evolving (past his human limits) in that direction, before he stopped and rerouted his growth in the other 'monster' direction.

Not to say there wasn't any trace of 'monsterization' in his Spiral form whatsoever, what with the dark eyes and swirling 'dark energy' he used to instantly heal himself for ex - but more that his Spiral form (thematically) represented a truer, more authentic 'balance' (of yin/yang forces) of his human/monster duality. :O Because the difference - both in his honest looks/appearance and in his conscious control of his forms (Garou kept his full awareness/focus/wits/humanity about him while fighting in Spiral form without blacking out or going 'feral'), was so apparent.

So with that said! If he continues naturally training/pushing his growth as himself, then perhaps we could see him far more closely resemble his Spiral form again in the future. :O For when he's not trying so hard to perform (reject himself) as a monster anymore, aka trying to become/transform into somebody he's not. Will he find the proper, authentic 'balance' embracing his natural gifts/identity/potential/strengths with which he can fully control without any self-destructive risk to himself (or others), that remains to be seen!

[kingcbras]

" break up and make up. " Lawrusso story PART 1

NOTE : basically their rivalry all over again but johnny as the co sensei with kreese. ( silver isn't in this story. )

The dust had settled after the climactic rematch between Johnny Lawrence's eagle fang and Daniel LaRusso's Miyagi-Do. The valley was abuzz with the news of Daniel's victory, a win that solidified his belief in the balance and wisdom of Miyagi-Do karate. But victory came at a cost, and the rivalry between the two dojos had only escalated.

Following his defeat, Johnny Lawrence retreated to his old dojo, nursing a mix of anger and frustration. He looked at the shattered pieces of his old life and found himself torn between the principles Kreese had instilled in him and his genuine desire to do right by his students, especially Miguel.

Cobra Kai's resurgence had not come without casualties. Miguel's relationship with Carmen had been strained. The very dojo that had given him purpose had now turned into a source of conflict. The once bright and promising young man was caught in the middle of a power struggle that threatened to consume him.

With Cobra Kai's defeat, Johnny found himself once again facing the contemptuous shadow of Kreese. The man's grip on his psyche had tightened, filling his mind with thoughts of revenge. He had hoped that the victory would bring him redemption, but instead, it fueled his desire to reclaim his former glory.

As Johnny resumed his role as the co-sensei of Cobra Kai, old scars reopened and new wounds formed. Miguel watched in silent dismay as the dojo he had grown to respect spiraled into darkness once more. Carmen's frustration turned to grief, watching the man she loved trapped in a cycle of self-destruction.

Meanwhile, Daniel's victory was bittersweet.

The thrill of triumph was overshadowed by the somber knowledge that his victory had led to further division. He saw the pain in Miguel's eyes, the confusion in Carmen's expressions, and felt a sense of responsibility for their suffering. Determined to heal the rift he had inadvertently deepened, he decided to pay Johnny a visit.

Sitting in Johnny's living room, tension hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Daniel cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

-

"Johnny, I'm sorry. I didn't want things to turn out like this."

-

Johnny's eyes hardened.

-

"Bullshit. Sorry ain't gonna fix what you did, LaRusso. You took my goddam dojo THEN you sit here asking like everything's oka-"

-

Daniel took a deep breath, his gaze locked on Johnny's as he cut him off.

-

"I know. And I can't change the past. But we need to find a way to take down cobra kai for GOOD, for the sake of our students, for Miguel and get your old sensei out of this karate cycle."

-

Johnny's fists clenched, as he smiled annoyed. Jolting up a bit with furrowed eyebrows as he kept his eyes locked waving the Coors banquet in his other hand.

-

'' yeah? ''

-

Daniel's voice soften as he exhaled one more time but with more aggression, Daniel knew it was gonna be hard to break through johnny. It was like a fist to obsidian.

-

"I'm not. here. to fight, Johnny. I'm here to offer an olive branch. Join forces. We can combine Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang if you still want.. We can take down Cobra Kai together."

-

Johnny's expression darkened.

-

"You don't get it, do you? I'm back in Cobra Kai. I'm done with your sick games Larusso, you never admit that your wrong one bit then when you apologize you always ALWAYS expect someone to forgive you."

-

A silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Daniel stood up, realizing that his attempt at reconciliation had failed, at least for now.

-

"I'm leaving, Johnny. But the offer still stands. Think about it."

-

As Daniel left, the room felt emptier than before. The door closed, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts and regrets. The power struggle had intensified, alliances were fractured, and the divide between dojos seemed insurmountable.

[blackfire-fanfiction]

I'm glad you like my tongue idea

But I want him to be the cause his handler's death....

How about it is a bad ending?

I kind of just really want to know how he would react and I won't bother with you anymore about it. because obviously we don't want him to literally self-destruct in the crossover, I get it.

A hypothetical? Oh, I can definitely make this worse

Raph would spiral. Everyone dies when they're around him. He'd go back to sitting still and not doing anything, except it'd be so much harder to pull him out of it. It's one thing to help him realize that it wasn't his fault he was forced to kill. But this time, Raph believes that people caring about him will result in their deaths (though he does have a relapse of the previous thought too). When he realizes that just sitting there and doing nothing isn't working to distance them from him, he starts acting out (only in his 12 body) to try to get them to hate him.

The Handler was his grip on reality, and Raph wouldn't be healed enough from the whole event to react well to seeing/hearing about how Big Mama destroyed them until their broken, mangled body was near-unrecognizable

[thebestpartofwakingup]

Klaasje is such a good foil and parallel for Harrier both in that she is always knowingly lying (as opposed to Harry who just doesn’t know the truth anymore) and in that the people around her find her immediately and strikingly cool and enamoring (something Harry wishes he could be and tries to be but fails spectacularly at)

Which is interesting because we are informed that this is actually extremely similar to how Harry HAD been in his prime, cool and charismatic and still depressed and hopped up on speed and alcohol and cigarettes and spiraling in all directions, but extremely competent and talented in his work.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Where I’m going with this is that Klaasje’s charisma is shown to drag people into her world of self destruction and questionable life decisions, several people are DEAD because a small number of people found Klaasje initially captivating enough to invest heavily into impressing, scorning, and protecting her at all costs, and heavily enough that the faults or risks she presents to others were not recognized or acknowledged until it was too late, sunk costs and all.

Unlike Harry, who is desperate for one single person to love him, Klaasje is smothered by love, infatuation, adornment, jealousy, etc.

This parallel also serves to strengthen the foil-relationship between Harry and Titus. Even when they’re standing against Wild Pines together they’re still oppositional. Harry desperately wants to believe that if he can be an impressive enough detective it will make up for his abnormalities and short-comings (specifically in the eyes of Dora and winning her back) and this is partially what leads him into the stand-off and in continuing the case

Meanwhile Titus isn’t here for self-agrandizement, but rather to assist Klaasje and her seemingly endless laundry list of messes and issues, as well as his insecurity in her preference for the hanged man over him—-based on the former’s greater “intensity” over Titus, a more reckless, violent, kinky, and dangerous man than he is or can be for her. He really struggles not with a clean cut sense of inferiority, these aren’t traits that Titus would necessarily consider a personal weakness of his in a vacuum, he doesn’t WANT to be a more intense, reckless, and violent person, instead he struggles to accept that these are the traits that Klaasje values and relates with, that this is the type of person she is, that the two of them are fundamentally, incompatible.

And he WANTS them to be compatible so badly and we see this in how he dismisses these differences, insists that Klaasje isn’t really as bad as she and Harry say she is, his insistence and allusion to the hanged man as a perverse influence in her life rather than a welcomed partner, this idea that his death would help “even out” Klaasje, especially with the cover up to help and further protect her from the forces she is hiding from. The whole thing reads as this weird, sort of sad, desperate bargain that Titus is making with himself. That Klaasje can and may change, that things CAN be better between the two of them if only Titus does the RIGHT things and ENOUGH things to support her into becoming a more “normal” and less destructive person

And from the end of the tribunal we see what the consequences for this line of thinking was for Titus. Klaasje is gone, she didn’t fundamentally change into a person who was compatible with him, his best friend is dead, the up-and-coming lawyer who had been assisting him and his cover up for a week and who the Hardies are shown to have deeply respected, is dead, more than half of the Hardie boys are dead.

In that, Titus offers Harry and the player an alternate perspective to the type of relationship that Harry likely had with Dora, what he is trying to return to, and what the consequences of it are. Just as Dora may have enabled some of Harry’s destruction through her admiration of his “coolness” or her believing she was supporting him and his healing from the various traumas of his work, we see how Titus redirected attention from Klaasje to himself and the Hardie boys, and promoted narratives that shielded Klaasje from the consequences of all things on a spectrum ranging from that which she had no control over, to that which she was directly responsible for, from that with serious and deadly stakes, to the trivial and personalZ Klaasje doesn’t always approve of these gestures or strategies, but they’re all motivated by a dual desire to protect her in general, and the belief that if she is just supported *enough* she will naturally become a healthier and more Titus-compatible person

And what’s interesting about Titus being a foil to Harry in this sense and Klaasje a parallel is it opens up the possibility for us to read Titus as a parallel for Dora. We know their divorce wasn’t early and we know that Dora had tried to reconcile with Harry, that they had been having difficulties and problems for a while before she finally left him, and knowing how Harry had been for years with his work and drug habit it makes sense to read into the possibility of a Dora who was in denial at times about how bad things were or were getting, or a Dora who believed that if she were just supportive and patient enough Harry would even himself out.

[arcticwaters]

i’ve said a couple times that i have a beau meta ready and was just waiting to hear marisha’s thought on a certain topic, and now we have! i now feel more confident talking about something that i took issue with: the idea that beau only backed off from jester and gave her blessing to fjord begrudgingly as a sign of her lack of self worth and is only going for yasha because she’s better than nothing.

alright, so under the cut is that post, my thoughts overall on the idea of beau “lying” and “self sabotaging,” how her relationship with jester and yasha has changed, and how yasha just really deserves so much. keep in mind everything here is like A MONTH OLD, i wrote all this around the time ep 110 aired. frankly i don’t even know how relevant most of this even is anymore cuz i don’t pay attention to discourse BUT people are claiming once again that beau is only “settling” for yasha so, here we go. (i added in more recent thoughts regarding marisha’s answer on talks at the very end.)

the idea that beau was just downplaying her feelings for jester to fjord like “haha no prob bro! totally over that pffft you’re in the clear” makes me super uncomfortable?? i get it would be in character for beau. i get that she thinks she’s second best and jester is looking at fjord, not her, so she would push her best friends together because she loves them and she’s not Worthy. that would be a very beau move. but doing so would also be saying that she herself only sees yasha as second best to jester. that she is now only pursuing yasha because “welp, my first choice is off the table :/”

and i find that to be SO disrespectful to yasha, who cares about beau so deeply and has had feelings for her long before beau had feelings for jester. who has been through SO MUCH and deserves to have someone love her solely for her, and not just because she was there, a back up because oh-so precious jester wasn’t available. yasha, who did the thing beau wants more than anything: picked her first. like do ya’ll honestly think beau “constantly upset that she’s never anyone’s first choice” regard would turn around and treat yasha, who she knows has been through hell, exactly like that? (never mind that yasha was beau’s first choice, but okay.) because ultimately that is what that take is saying, there’s really no other way around it. no matter how much she might be spiraling, beau wouldn’t do that to her friend who’s already been through so much heartbreak. yasha deserves better than that and she is better than that.

and to be clear i’m talking specifically about the idea that beau was just choking back her still-strong feelings for jester because she realized she wasn’t good enough and she Hoped Too Much But Wasn’t Enough. so she just pushed them deep down, lied that they were gone, and secretly-tearfully stepped aside for fjord and that basically that whole ep108 talk was another example of beau self sabotaging herself ala the hag. (even claiming that because of this she is headed towards another downward spiral??) the idea that she must’ve been lying.

is it really so hard to think that maybe beau just got over jester? that she told fjord about it, not to deflect, but because she just wanted to be honest? that she can still care for jester and her wellbeing, but just no longer in a wholly romantic way? (you can know your best friend inside and out just as easily as someone you’re interested in after all.) that maybe she realized her jester crush was just not that deep? it was, in her own words after all, just a crush. she wasn’t in love.

let’s not forget that beau’s second playlist, which specifically had a song for yasha that confirmed it was a crush all along and not just a physical thing, and nothing really romantic at all for jester, was released before they did ep108. if beau really did still feel strongly for jester, strong enough that she only said she was over her because of self sabotage,,, wouldn’t there have been a song? marisha’s not dumb; that would’ve been THE time to bring up if beau’s feelings had turned from just a little crush to something stronger, just like travis and ashley did. but she didn’t. there wasn’t even a song about not being good enough for jester and needing to step side, no song about how much it hurts to secretly be in love with your friend. jester just got a platonic song. yasha got something romantic. i bring up that it came out before 108 because it shows that this is something that’s been building up. that she didn’t hear fjord’s confession and made an on the spot decision to be like “uh, my crush is gone dude go for it!”

is it possible she was just downplaying? sure. i’m not marisha, i don’t fucking know. maybe she watched jester kiss fjord’s cheek while he was revived and realized she couldn’t compete (tho even that doesn’t really line up because beau says to him in 108 that she doesn’t know if jester still likes him, she’s only guessing.) sure, we know beau lies, but at the same time, that doesn’t mean every single thing that comes out her mouth is a lie. beau spends most of the rumplecusp arc being the most open she’s been in a long time. she spent that whole evening having moments of realness with everyone, why suddenly lie now? like what, she had a deep talk with caleb, veth, and yasha and thought “you know what? time to lie to fjord about my feelings for jester that he doesn’t even know about.” fjord just bared his soul and feelings to her; it’s just as likely that she decided now is the time to be honest with him as well, to be honest with herself, because we know this is something she’s been thinking hard about for quite a while. the cast had three whole months between 99 and 100 to stew in the minds of their characters and figure out their wants and needs, but a lot of this also started before this.

stay with me here, this is gonna be a bit long. as i’ve mentioned before, i’ve been rewatching from 92 onward, focusing mostly on beau as i go and the obvious turmoil that meeting her father again left her in. and one thing i did notice is that in 96 - the episode where she’s at her most rough - she really is all over jester, that can’t be denied. she’s like, trying really hard to get her attention. but then in 97, which is only a day later, that’s gone. then the amount of attention beau gives to jester lessens over the following arc as she gives more of it to yasha. here’s the thing about 96: it’s the peak of her spiral. she hadn’t been ok since meeting her family again, and i think all of it came to a head when she met caduceus’s and saw a loving and supportive family, a sweet gentle father. i think it (along with nearly dying earlier) just set her off and she reached the peak of her regression and decided to act out and be shitty for the sake of it, and she latched on to jester because jester lives for that kind of thing. jester is the one who will say “make confused people’s lives even more confusing for the sake of a laugh? no judgement here let’s go!” it was likely easier to be like “haha yeah we’re having so much fun together heehe you’re so attractive when you validate my bad behavior ;3″ than it was to confront the shitty horrible mindset that she was in at the time and ask for help.

and then,, she’s kind of over it? when you reach a peak, the next step is coming down from it. she got out of that temple, she watched cad say goodbye to his family, she got some sleep. she calmed a bit, turned her issues inward, instead of taking it out through unnecessary mischief. and in a moment of just having some silly fun, flirted with yasha, and yasha threw that same energy back at her. yasha, not even missing a beat and cracking dumb jokes with her, calling her beautiful? that must’ve made her feel really good. then later, while she was having some alone time, she watched yasha be alone too. this woman who, just like her, carries a lot on her shoulders and feels broken and lost; who just like her, once dealt with her inner demons through self destruction, choosing to deal with her hurt through quiet music. by being gentle and soft instead of hard and loud. not that expressing your hurt through being loud is always wrong, but that it’s likely such a different thing for beau. something she’s not used to. something she might have decided she wanted to give a try.

i think this marked a turning point for her relationship with yasha. old feelings she forced herself to not think about resurfacing, a subtle reconnection to a kindred spirit, and i think it was the kick in the ass she needed to start feeling better after kamordah. (oh also?? fjord fucking dying. there’re a lot of reasons she started moving on, but i’m focusing on the shippy.) she started reaching out to yasha more from then on and into the rumblecusp arc. there’s gentle talks on the boat, there’s more beautiful harp, there’s healing hands, there’s carrying, there’s flying with owls, there’s checking in with each other after fights, there’s looks. she seemed to be realizing that she didn’t need to cling to jester, because she didn’t need to act out and fuck with people to deal with her issues. because there was yasha, growing angel wings just to catch her. she felt, in her own jumbled words, “better than she has in a long time.” she’s doing so much better than she did a month ago, and yasha made her feel that way. i don’t think we’ll ever really know what marisha meant by “so many things, but not now” but in the context of everything, it sounds like someone who is now doing a lot of thinking.

beau had a moment, within just two days of each other, where she took a solo flight with both jester and yasha that resulted in the flying poofing out midair and they plummeted and had to scramble to land without injury. only one of them left her visibly and audibly stunned, amazed, breathless, and flustered beyond belief.

i bring all of this up, i lay this all out, because if you really think about and look at how beau’s relationship with both jester and yasha evolved over the course the late 90′s and early 100′s, what’s more likely? that beau really was spending all that time still desperately pining over jester, reluctantly stepping down for the sake of fjord’s feelings? or that she simply realized just how strong her feelings for yasha had become, and always were, and they eclipsed her feelings for jester? realized that just maybe, her feelings for jester only happened because it was less scary than falling for a widow, but that she wasn’t scared anymore? (for the record, i don’t think marisha literally meant “physical body lust” when she said that. colloquially lust doesn’t always mean “just wanted sex.” i think she meant like... something that burns hot and eager but is otherwise not the same as a commitment. jester, in this particular situation, is that puppy in the window that you fall for because it’s just so cute and happy and bright and there and you want it, but you have to stop and think “do i actually want this dog or am i just charmed by the big puppy dog eyes because i just lost my other dog?” that’s how i think she meant it.) because i genuinely don’t know how people could see beau stare at yasha with a look of absolute awe while telling her “you’re incredible” and think, two episodes later, “poor thing only stepped away from jester because she felt inferior :/”

a lot of these takes i saw were written just after 108 and thus before 109 - 110, but there’s been no indication that she’s secretly jealous of fjord, or still looking at jester like that. her eyes have been firmly on yasha and she looks very happy for fjord and jester when anything happens between them, when previously, marisha wasn’t shy about pouting a little whenever jester looked at someone else, just like liam does.

beau is not falling headlong into a horrible crash that will fuck up her relationship with jester and yasha. she’s doing better than she has in a long ass time, she’s healing. she’s finding her way to the arms of someone who she not only picked first, but who picked her first too.

present day october arctic jumping in to say now: we now know that yes in some ways, beau was thinking about fjord’s feelings, but it came from a place of love. that she stepped back not because she was thinking “oh woe is me, i’ll never be good enough for jester i shouldn’t even try :(” but rather “hey you know what? i love both of these people dearly and if they would be happy together, i’d be happy for them.” (and that trying to be with jester wasn’t even as important to her as just being there for jester.) and that her picking yasha is not a sign that she is slipping more into a dark place, but the opposite: she’s come very far in her own sense of self worth and she’s allowing herself to want something, and that’s yasha, the person she’s had feelings for since like, day one.

marisha didn’t go in too deep with the question she got or give the ins and outs of beau’s feelings for jester and yasha like i’d hoped (man they love to be coy huh?) but we know this: beau did have real, legit feelings for both of them at the same time. and, yes, beau did step away from jester because she realized that jester and fjord had something going on. but she did it because, at the end of the day, she just wants jester to be happy. i didn’t get the impression from marisha that she meant this in a somber “beau thinks jester would be happier without her :c” way, but that her platonic feelings for jester were just as strong as her romantic ones, if not more so, and stepping back was something easy for her. (this wasn’t specifically said, but because marisha brought up how jester was beau’s first real female friend, i think you could argue that there may have even been some underlying “how much of this is romantic and how much is platonic? i’ve never done this before.” just a little bit.)

there was no lie. there was no moment of “oh no i’m not good enough.” she simply let go, and she did so willingly and gracefully. her feelings were real, but they really were just a crush, one that she had no problem at all just getting over, no all encumbering [romantic] love that people seemed to think. and i honestly find this to be extremely mature of her, to realize that a silly little crush was not more important than simply being there for her best friend. to say “her happiness doesn’t have to involve a romance with me and that’s ok.” this fictional character handled a crush on a friend better than i have in the past. there was no need for some grand conflict shaking them up; she just made the choice to get over feelings that, again, she had no plans to even act on.

and maybe there’s a tiny tiny flavor of “well, i wanna be with someone and yasha’s right there, so, i guess i’ll pick her” in marisha’s answer, but i really don’t think that’s the case, or at least not the only reason beau is now going after her. especially since, much of what she said was kind of just a summary of beau’s playlist, which came out all the way back around ep103-ish. the idea that beau is slowly coming out the haze of self loathing and realizing she wants a real lover isn’t new information. i think this was just the first time that marisha had a chance to vocalize that, and it just accidentally came out like “well, yasha’s there so” because she was juggling a couple topics at once, while at the same time seemingly wanting to limit how much she said. (i feel like both she and ashley are playing it a little bit coy because they want it all to be in character, not out.) from the hints laid out throughout the campaign and beau’s own words, it’s always been yasha, the feelings were always there, beau just wasn’t at a place where she was ready to admit that she wanted a real relationship. and both of them just had things they needed to work on.

i definitely find it telling that marisha made a point to talk about how beau wants to really be with someone after talking about how she let jester go. to me this is kind of confirmation that beau, for as much as she cared about jester, really sees yasha as someone she could truly be with. after all, if jester really was The One, wouldn’t she have fought a little more for her? wouldn’t jester be the one making beau feel things that she’s “been avoiding?” (and i think it goes without saying that this “avoiding” is the idea of being in real love.) compared to yasha, who beau tried hard to get over, but was always drawn back to, who she has always felt a kinship with. beau already took yasha off the table once, but months later still found her way back to. trying to let go of yasha was not nearly as easy for beau as letting go of jester.

beau was lonely, didn’t think she deserved love, and it’s yasha who’s making her realize how much she doesn’t like being alone. yasha is the one helping beau come out that fog of self loathing, who’s making her think maybe this is something she can really let herself have. there is no self sabotaging to be found here, just mutual healing.

wow this is so long ALL OF THIS IS JUST A LONG WINDED WAY TO SAY no beau picking yasha is not her “settling” or a sign that she is secretly trying to let go of her soulfully desperately pining for jester, because beau will never think she’s good enough. she just likes yasha and is in fact doing so much better than she has in a really long time because of yasha. because yasha is incredible.

[septembersghost]

hey jess, may I ask what's made you feel more hesitant to share things and if you have any ideas to overcome it? you've seriously been one of the sources of comfort since the darkness and ugliness of November and I feel bad that you're struggling to feel like you have a place now but I understand because being around fandom and seeing how it's tearing the story and characters apart is depressing me a lot. you're not alone and we do love you x

hi honey! of course, though I'm not sure I can articulate it entirely because it's more emotional and likely me being my anxious-ridden, sensitively prone self.

there's quite a bit of fandom (on every side) that I vehemently disagree with and that simply does not align with my perception of the canon and the characters, their strengths and roles and depth and meaning, and it's gotten quite a lot worse since November, partially because the varying factions have become so vitriolic. it's difficult for me because, as I know I've said ad nauseam at this point, I've been here from the very beginning (loved you from the very first day!) and have seen many permutations of fandom drama and issues, along with the consistent downward spiral of the show, but sunk cost fallacy mixed with devotion and formative attachment meant I never could quit or let it go, not when in so many ways it was my home and source of...comfort? that's such an odd word to use for spn, but I've written so much about Dean being that talisman and light and strength across a span of years where I lost so much and struggled with a continual rotating list of pain and mourning in various forms. having that source of bravery and reminder to keep doing my best and fighting forward and holding onto even the smallest glimmer of courage was always everything. was always a constant.

anyone who's been with me long knows that November was a SIGNIFICANT grief and sort of incomprehensibly painful and beyond explanation. that it was a very real hurt and it remains so. the wound scars over but then easily breaks again - I can still cry about it or lose it in rage over it at any given moment (me at my dear and trusted friends who have patiently and kindly sat and listened to me vent and scream and sob over this, and have often joined me in doing so, for months...I am very fortunate to have the most amazing people tbh). it's never going to heal entirely, it slots too closely into my heart and things that have happened, over that entire span of my adult life.

edited to add: someone on my dash just said this on another topic, but it is so relevant I'm going to quote her - "maybe i’m just a really earnest person, but it’s exhausting to have to find a way to be witty or make something that you love smaller so you don’t feel uncool for loving it." exactly this. I'm sincere in the love I have for things and that is very much an aspect here.

I thought there'd be some coalescence, but there hasn't been. instead, there's a lot of fighting and sneering and retreating to toxic corners to twist and warp the characters and their journeys in ways I don't recognize or understand. (I don't mean fun memes and witty humor, because that's enjoyable, but the parts of fandom that openly despise the characters and tear them down confuse me. what do they get out of this?) it's very equal-opposite reaction, where sides are just insecurely reacting and cruelly lashing out at one another because there's this idea that it's a competition someone can win? (NOBODY WON, BABES. EVERYONE LOST. *insert that gif of ~it's bad writing~*)

I can't reconcile that any more than I can reconcile the utter destruction of canon. I'm constantly seeing these baffling takes where Dean's an abuser or Dean's repressed or Dean thrives on violence alone or Dean is incapable of love and empathy except when he's taught it (by Sam or Cas, take your pick) or Dean doesn't know himself/have any self-perception/awareness except when he's forced to confront it, which...is the exact ANTITHESIS of what Dean represented. which Sam and Cas themselves told us! and yes, I am most protective of him. I am most enraged and agonized about him. but Sam and Cas aren't faring any better in the bizarre way fanon is treating them in many cases, either. (Sam as a pathetic victim who only ever wanted to be normal and had to be free of his brother...I've ranted about this before, but WHO IS HE? I don't know him! and it's such an INSULT to characterize him that way.)

I genuinely do not care what people ship or what people do as long as they're not harassing/bullying each other, but the consuming nature of the ship wars is decimating the characters that existed and that's burdensome to watch happen and be powerless against it. there's also this...cynical, mocking view of the story - like participating in it, but with a lot of shame and hatred? much of which is taken out on Dean, and I don't only mean the so-called "criticals," I see takes from people who claim to like him that still blow my mind with how undermining and mean-spirited they are, or how narrow-minded they are (in regards to his arc, his childhood and parentification, his central role, and also in regards to his identity, sexuality, and some of the narrative coding as I have always beheld it).

I talk a lot about gothic horror and fascination of dark, complex themes and multitudes of characterization, because all of that is valuable and interesting to me, but there's this reductive sense that repellent darkness was all they were or all they had and I...can't view them like that. a key component of gothic horror and gothic Romance is also the SUBLIME. it isn't all the grit and the gore alone, it's also the profound beauty.

it feels like losing pieces of him, and of all of them, over and over again. watching fandom shred them to ribbons is hard. I stay because I...don't want to abandon them. I don't want to leave them to curling ash. I don't want to let the vultures pick over those bones. I want to remember them and their loved ones as vibrant and alive and TRYING, always trying, to persevere and help whenever they can. I want to remember Dean as standing up, no matter how bloody, defiant and resilient and shining, flash of that grin on his face, knowing that the fight matters because in the midst of violence is an unwavering sense of strength and compassion. I want to remember them striving for the light and knowing that maybe the blaze of glory will come, but that it never takes their agency, their souls, the transcendence they could find despite it all. it's tough to feel that so powerfully while also constantly battling the tide of it being drowned out on many other sides.

nothing will ever shake my love for him or my firm belief in everything I've written before, that I've written for nearly sixteen years - that Dean represented humanity, its glimmering, inspiring facets and its unexpected dangerous edges and its sorrowful depths and its beating heart, always. that Dean provided home, but also that he suffered from being that coveted object. that Dean was the beloved - pulse, anchor, sun - or weapon and soldier, depending on what was required of him, and that he restructured his identity and reclaimed his truth and foundational self over and over again. that is an inextricable part of me. it remains, an undying blossom.

all that said, the corner I carved out for safety and love seems to become smaller each passing day because of a lot of the unfortunate negative things that have taken hold, and for me there's also that constant nagging fear of my time running out and not knowing how much longer I can be here and just desperately trying to cling to what I can. I miss him like I'd miss any real loved one. I've mourned him that way too. I don't care if that's irrational, or silly, it's the absolute truth of how it has felt. the things I've posted here about disenfranchised loss and about that love being so meaningful and real, I stand by all of it.

I am so sorry you're hurting and feeling depressed and some discomfort too. the only advice I can give is for you to find the good pieces you can and hold onto what the story means most to you. maybe branch out a little into other passions too? I've done that here lately and it's been a source of solace in itself - it's not giving spn up or distancing from it, just giving yourself moments of breathing room and enjoyment of other things! also, if you have friends here you can talk to, please don't hesitate to reach out to them! my friends have been EVERYTHING to me, there will never be enough I can say or enough gratitude I can give for the support and consolation, and enlightenment and empathy, they've given me, or how much I love them. it truly does help not to be alone. it helps to hear that from you and I am so, so grateful for it. you can always reach out to me, as long as I'm here (nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around!), I NEVER mind listening and will be here for your feelings and to lend any understanding I can, any time. all we can do is hold on and keep remembering what it meant to us. all we can do is hold onto one another too.

thank you for being with me. my peace is helping people. that echoes in me every day. I love you right back, like I love them, eternally.

[sillyandquiteawkward]

little father and bayley fic under the cut bc i forgot my ao3 password and im lazy. hope you enjoy

Food supplements and leafy greens sat on Doctor Bayley's plate, which he picked at distastefully. The Director of the Institute, Father, sat across from him, making decent headway with his own meal.

"I don't think I can ever learn to enjoy the food supplements. This flavor isn’t palatable either," Bayley curtly complained with a heavy sigh. He felt Father's lingering judgement upon him for refusing most of his meal again, without even having to look up. He poked at the slab of supplement with the tines of his fork. Even the various flavors the Institute boasted of supplements couldn't save Bayley from the pastes, powders, and bars turning his stomach. He was trying his best to find a flavor he could stand, but to Bayley, even mirelurk was easier to eat. At least the fresh vegetables were decent, if not simply boiled or baked if cooked at all. "I'd kill for some real meat on your menu."

"Come now, Doctor, we have little need to slaughter irradiated animals for food in this day and age. BioScience has developed the perfect meal dozens of times over, consisting of the exact amount of daily nutrients a man like yourself needs," Father replies coolly. Bayley glared at the older man. Of course he'd like them -- he grew up on the damn things. Well, Bayley grew up on real food!

"Designed a food that doesn't even fill your stomach," he mumbled behind his mug as he took a sip. Now to their credit, this was something Bayley actually liked. The coffee wasn't stale 200 year old beans and grounds. My god, they perfected the damn synthetic coffee and Bayley couldn't imagine going back.

Father confidently smirked, passing smoothly over Bayley's remark with a gentle shake of his head. "You poor surface dwellers, eating any and all the food you can scrounge to stave off hunger. I'm glad we were able to save you from that life. Give it time, Doctor. Your stomach will re-adjust to your new diet."

Bayley scoffed dismissively and set his fork down to keep nursing his coffee. Father took his own sip of tea. The pair fell into a dip of silence, accompanied by the gentle clink of silverware against plate as Father continued to finish off his lunch. Behind them a few tables over, there was a slight chatter from another pair of scientists in the cafeteria. Licking a crumb of food supplement left on the edge of his mug with a grimace, Bayley listened to their distant hushed conversation. Sounded like gossip about another scientist’s love affair... Hard to believe that even the “perfect” Institute could be filled with, what was ultimately, humans.

Father spoke up after a minute of Bayley straining to eavesdrop, "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Doctor?"

"...Why?" Bayley eyed Father suspiciously. "Don't you already know all about me? Isn't that why I'm here?"

Father took a warm sip of his mug before continuing. "I know about your reputation, or lack thereof." Bayley all but growled at the dig. "And I know you care deeply for the progress of humanity, as do I, albeit a tad misguided. You’re a highly intelligent man, Doctor, but I'm afraid I don't know about you, personally. I'd like to remedy that."

What could Bayley tell Father about? Why should he? Oh, but he loved to talk about himself... Bayley leaned back in his chair with folded hands in his lap, food left forgotten on his plate. "What is there to say? I'm a man married to his work, who likes breathing fresh air. On the surface."

“What got you into studying radiation?” Bayley noticed Father missed his complaint, or at least was ignoring it. “Surely you didn’t set out from the start on such a dangerous fascination.” Father had a look of curiosity on his face that seemed genuine to Bayley, although he still had suspicions this had ulterior motives.

“It was almost from the beginning actually. As I studied medicine in my youth, traveling along the Wasteland, I have to admit,” Bayley paused to consider his wording. “I had a distinct admiration of the ghoul’s ability to utilize radiation to build themself anew. The destructive power of radiation makes using it dangerous and even deadly, true, but I imagined a world where we could manipulate the human body to replicate how a ghoul’s body uses the gamma particles destructive properties to heal themselves, sans the ghoulification process of course.” Okay, so maybe he planned to be cagey, but Father just had to ask him about the thing he’s devoted his entire life to. Sorry, he’s gonna get excited. “I’d seen first hand ghouls reattach long lost limbs to themselves and remain functional, ferals even being brought back to life by glowing ones’ radiation bursts, and the stories of people growing functional limbs from radiation exposure caught my particular attention at a young age.”

“Fascinating things ghouls are, although their rotten brains and appearance are less than desirable. If anything their longevity is what catches my attention. Living over hundreds of years...” Father drifts off, looking past Bayley. “Imagine what one could achieve with that extra time.”

“Living forever doesn’t matter if you aren’t healthy,” Bayley corrected. “What’s the point of living if you are just suffering every day. I’m focusing myself to helping people in this day and age, instead of chasing functional immortality.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” Father sighs. “Everything I do is for tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Humanity's future lies in our successor’s hands. It’s a shame we cannot directly work with our future generations to combine our knowledge. All we can do is help prepare them for when we are gone.”

“Eventually people in charge need to step down and let the fresh ideas in, otherwise we’ll collectively stagnate. We are stubborn creatures who hate change, snuffing out ideas that contradict our own. If someone like you lived forever, he’d never give up the reins.”

“I suppose you’d do the same,” Father states blandly, eyes half-lidded. “As you said, we are stubborn creatures.”

Bayley sputters, sitting back up in his chair. “No, I am the innovator in this scenario! I’ve been ostracized for my ideas, kicked out and shunned. No one sees my potential to change the world!”

“And in your age, have you begun to prepare an heir to your scientific knowledge, Doctor? Or do you think you can finish this chronicle yourself, with the few years left in your life?”

“I-I have to prove myself first! No one trusts my work because they don’t see the proof -- which I was working on when you so kindly stole me away from my clinic and subjects!” Bayley hissed, gripping the edge of the table.

Unphased, Father folded his hands on the table. “I trust your work, Doctor Bayley. I’ve seen your studies, seen what you can do when you are truly devoted to a cause. This is why I wanted you with us at the Institute. I want you to share your knowledge to us, so that we may pass it to the future with us. Let us help you ensure your legacy. We have the same goals, and we even have similar methods if you can believe it. Imagine what we can do together when we combine our knowledge, for humanity’s sake.”

Bayley raised an eyebrow at that. “Similar goals perhaps, but I wont be a part of the kidnapping and killing of Commonwealth citizens. You Institute folk are outrageously barbaric for all your self-righteousness.”

“We simply know how to weigh the importance of breaking a few eggs for the omelette. You too understand this principle closely, don’t you?”

Bayley grimaced flatly. “You truly know how to charm a man to your side.” This conversation was over if Bayley had anything to say about it, which he did. He gulped from his mug, keeping it up to his mouth as he turned physically away from Father. He’ll finish this and go back to his room. Trapped in the Institute with these madmen, forced to go along with things else suffer the same fate as the hundreds of others taken to the Institute. And Father had the gall to act like they were the same, that Bayley could excuse innocents murdered for “science.” He slammed the mug back onto the table.

“I hope you’ll understand one day soon, Doctor. I really do.” Father sighed, closing his eyes in defeat as Bayley stood up.

“I don’t want to understand,” Bayley said as he stormed past Father back to the concourse.

It was too much to think about, if Bayley was being honest with himself. He grit his teeth climbing the stairs, tense. A scientist descending the stairs stood to the side as Bayley passed, clearly wanting to give the angry man some space and avoid any conflict. Good. If he was to stay here, people should give way for him. Now if only Father was like that. He passed a pair of expressionless generation two synth guards eyeing their laser weapons as he ascended the next flight.

God, he was annoyed. Of course Father had to go ruin another meal together talking nonsense of Bayley hurting others. He tried his best not to hurt his subjects -- everyone was willing and importantly, no one had died under his care! Sick perhaps in the early days... but it wasn’t death! Bayley couldn’t stand the idea his great idea could possibly kill others when it was supposed to be helping them. If he was ever responsible for someone’s death...

Bayley slid open the automatic door to his small, barren room. It was just a simple bed and desk, which was plenty for Bayley, but he wished he had his trinkets and such if he was going to be living here until the day he dies. He collapsed onto the stiff bed, face pressing against the cool pillow. He missed his couch. He missed his clinic. Bayley even considered he missed being annoyed by Jonathan and Jay’s antics. Jay would try his best to cheer him out of this spiraling train of thought, and Jon would know plenty of things to distract him with.

If he was ever responsible for their deaths, Bayley considered he’d quit on the spot. He’d probably become deeply depressed until he really did just curl up and die, however fast it came after. All his life’s work to save humanity, and he’d killed the only people who trusted him most to do so.

But the truly terrible part of him hidden away deep in his heart wondered that if someone was to die as a result of his work, perhaps even if he wasn’t working willingly with the Institute, that he'd simply wouldn’t care.

[radiant-flutterbun]

Mason’s Brightside Part 2

   Part 1

“No Mason, weird dreams are not a symptom of the herb I gave you last night,” Alaria sighed “If you had listened to me you would know the opposite is true.”

    “No dreams is a symptom?”

    “Yes and so are dehydration headaches so make sure you drink lots of water.”

Alaria shooed Mason outside of the healing den and he nearly crashed into Corkscrew, a spiral.

    “Watch where you’re going!” Corkscrew snarled.

    Mason ignored him and went to get something to drink, his mind however was still thinking about that dream. He’d never been a vivid dreamer. Something about it was so unnatural.

    Evan came up to him later in the day and he described the dream to him.

    “Weird right?”

    “Yeah but sometimes a dream is just a dream. Don’t read too much into it.”

    “But it felt so real!”

    “You sure it’s not… Ya know your mind playing tricks on you?”

    Mason glared at Evan “It wasn’t that.”

    “Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to imply…” Evan coughed “Maybe you’re just not used to a good night’s sleep is all.”

    Mason thought about that for a moment “That… Ok yeah that I can believe.”

    The next night he was given the same herb from Alaria and he found himself right back at the Emperor’s Wake.

    “Good to see you again Mason,” It was the tundra. They were sitting beside him, so close that Mason could feel their fur on him “Are you on your way?”

    “I-” Mason began and then he snarled “What are you doing in my head?”

    The tundra looked back at him calmly, “You can thank our local dreamwalker for that.”

    “Dreamwalker…?”

    “You’ll be waking soon. I don’t have time to explain. Please come here to the Emperor’s Wake. I’ll explain everything. It’ll be much easier in person, I promise.”

    Mason was about to speak when he found himself awake, sunlight danced across his room. 

    He began to pack his things. It didn’t take long. Being formerly dead, he didn’t have any personal belongings from his world. All he had were just a few art supplies Flare had been kind enough to give him, a simple dagger, a water canister, a few snacks and a blanket. Everything fit neatly in a bag he wrapped over his shoulder.

    He trotted down the stairs from his room and into the clan lobby. He made his way to the main exit when Evan found him.

    “Where are you going?” He asked, seeing the bag.

    Mason sighed “The Emperor’s Wake.”

    “What? Isn’t that where that monster is?”

    “Yep.”

    “And you want to go there?!”

    “Correct.”

    “Why?”

    “Because that’s where the dragons in my dreams told me to go.”

    “So you’re just going to listen to random dream dragons now?”

    “See this is why I was trying to avoid you.”

    Evan looked hurt “You were planning on leaving without telling me?”

    “Because I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn’t understand! Listen, I've been here before. I know that whoever these dragons are, they're not going to get out of my head until I do what they want me to do.”

    “Hey no offense Mason but the last time you listened to some... thing in your mind you ended up hurting a kid.”

    Mason snarled “He wasn’t just a kid. Don’t oversimplify what Muerto is.”

    “I’m just saying, if you knew that was Match speaking to you, would you still have done the things you did?”

    “Yes. Match is just another self centered god, but at least me listening to him, capturing Muerto, weakening him. Getting him to spill his dirty little secrets. At least that did something! You would have rotted away to nothing and we would have all been trapped in that horrible place until we died. I got the gods’ attention. I changed things!”

    Evan took a deep breath “Ok. Yeah you’re right. But I also don’t have to like what we had to do to get where we are now. Maybe this time we can take some time to think about what we’re getting into before we have to hurt anyone?”

    “We? You want to come with me?”

    “I don’t like the idea of being near that monster, but I hate the idea of letting you go alone even more.”

***

    Mason waited for Evan to pack his things. Like him, it wasn’t much so they were off on their journey soon enough. Evan felt bad leaving without a word so he took the time to leave a note for Nike.

    The two took off and soared over the Sunbeam Ruins in the direction of the area now known as the Emperor’s Wake. Mason had a map with him to help him keep track of their journey. As he flapped his wings he noted how natural flight felt to him. It was strange to him how quickly he picked up the skill. His original body was not one designed for flight and never in a million years would he have guessed he’d eventually become a dragon. Sepulchral had taught him to fly after he had entered the Dragon Planet. Sepulchral was a good teacher, and unlike all of the other Selcouth creatures that were brought to Sornieth, Sepulchral actually had wings back in their world, making him uniquely experienced with flight. But even with such an excellent teacher, Mason felt like he shouldn’t have picked up the skill quite so quickly. It only made it more frustrating that relearning to draw was not as natural to him.

    “Sorry about planning to take off without you,” Mason said after a few miles of silence.

    “Hey, it's cool. No big deal,” Evan responded.

    “What were you going to tell me the other day, by the way? I didn’t mean to brush you off like that. Sorry again.”

    “Oh that?” Evan laughed nervously “That was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

    Mason glanced at his friend “Alright…” He thought about pushing the subject, but decided to let it go.

    The two flew in silence until it got dark. They camped out in a secluded pine forest for the night and took off again when it was morning. 

    Their flight was uneventful until they flew over a patch of land that was scarred in an unusual way. Most of the Sunbeam Ruins were filled with rolling fields of grass and green pine trees dotted with ruins from a forgotten era. But this patch of land was blackened and dead. It was not burned like a fire found it, rather it looked like a perfect circle of the land just shriveled up and died. Below structures that were not ancient ruins were crushed and destroyed like a tornado ran through the community.

    “What do you suppose happened down there?” Evan asked.

    Mason shook his head “Nothing good probably. Let's keep moving.”

    It wasn’t long before the land began to look more like what Mason saw in his dreams. There were tell-tale signs of destruction, but not quite like the shriveled dead land they had just passed. Mason searched the ground below him and nearly stopped mid flight. There on top of a hill covered in ruins was the same rugged tundra that had spoken to him.

    Mason landed beside them with a thud and Evan landed more gracefully beside him.

    “You!” Mason snarled.

    The tundra smiled and waved “Mason! So good to see you in person. And oh look! You brought a friend.”

    “Why were you in my head? How do you know who I am? What do you want with me?”

    “Holy shit,” Evan was ignoring the tundra and instead his eyes were fixed on the horizon “It’s real.”

    Mason heard a roar and looked up. There in the distance was the rampaging beast, the Emperor Luminax. It was even more horrible than it was in his dreams.

    “Terrifying isn’t it?” The tundra asked, following Mason’s gaze.

    “It’s just… Hard to believe it’s real.”

    “I know. Seeing your first Emperor… It makes you wonder what’s real and what’s fake. But that thing is real alright. It’s destroying lives and the gods are doing nothing about it.”

    Mason snorted “Yeah that sounds about right.”

    “Ah, don’t like gods do you?” The tiny bug dragon from Mason’s dream landed on top of the tundra’s head “I knew this one would fit in well!”

    Mason peeled his eyes away from the undead creature in the distance “Ok, no more talking until you two explain why you were in my head.”

    “Ah that would be Karyu’s doing,” The tundra addressed the bug sitting on their head.

    “How dare you!” Mason lunged forward to swat the bug, but they quickly flew away. Mason ended up hitting the large tundra’s antlers instead. Mason’s hand stung and the tundra glared at him.

    “Maybe instead of threatening my friend, you could sit down and listen.” The tundra shoved Mason to the ground. Mason tried to get back up, but stopped when the tundra gave him another glare.

    Karyu flew back onto the tundra’s head and pointed at Mason “That one tortured a kid god, so I guess I shouldn’t really be too surprised. Still, he has use here.”

    Mason’s eyes widened “How did you-”

    “My name is Perryn,” The tundra cut Mason off and smiled “I’m an Emperor hunter, and my friend Karyu here is a dream walker.”

    “And demigod!” Once again Karyu took off from their perch on Perryn’s head. They circled in the air and as they landed they began to transform. Before Mason’s eyes the little bug dragon grew in size. They spun so fast it forced Mason to blink and with that one blink a new creature was standing where the bug disappeared. Its body was unmistakably human to Mason, but it still had some of the bug features of its dragon form. Antennae sprung up from Karyu’s head and insectoid wings from their back. They wore a long robe and their long purple hair touched the ground. They were still small, Perryn towered over them and so would have Mason if he had been standing, but they were no longer squishable. 

    “My mother is the goddess of dreams for this world, and lucky me, I’ve inherited some of her powers,” Karyu walked up to Mason and poked his snout. He snapped at their fingers “You have the most fascinating dreams out of everyones’ I’ve walked through. So many memories are mixed with yours. Some juicy ones too!”

    “No. You didn’t.”

    “It’s just a shame that lately you haven't been dreaming much. I’m guessing insomnia? Well that’s no good for me or my pals here at The Guild of Osiris! I was afraid if your sleeping patterns continued I would have lost contact with you! And that would have been a real bummer.”

    “Which is why Karyu had to bring me into the picture,” Perryn said “We needed you to come here before they lost contact with you and they thought you would listen to me and not them.”

    “And I was fucking right!” Karyu grinned and then leaned close to Mason and whispered “I just thought Perryn would be more your type. I’m gorgeous, I know, but I’m taken.”

    Mason just stared at Karyu. He opened his mouth and then closed it like a fish out of water.

    “Yes. Karyu was right!” Peryn shouted and then coughed “And now you’re here like we were hoping. Karyu has seen a lot of things about you from their dream walking ,which I know may be awkward and invasive-”

    “You don’t think?” Mason found his voice for a moment.

    “But Karyu has a knack for finding those who are perfect for helping our cause. Mason, is life uncertain to you? Maybe you’ll make a good Emperor Hunter.”

[hexalt]

CW for discussion of suicide

- She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - What? No, I'm not. - She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - That's a sexist term! - She's the crazy ex-girlfriend - Can you guys stop singing for just a second? - She's so broken insiiiiiide! - The situation's a lot more nuanced than that!

There’s the essay! You get it now. JK.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the culmination of Rachel Bloom’s YouTube channel (and the song “Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury” in particular where she combined her lifelong obsession with musical theatre and sketch comedy and Aline Brosh McKenna stumbling onto Bloom’s channel one night while having an idea for a television show that subverted the tropes in scripts she’d been writing like The Devil Wears Prada and 27 Dresses.

The show begins with a flashback to teenage Rebecca Bunch (played by Bloom) at summer camp performing in South Pacific. She leaves summer camp gushing about the performance, holding hands with the guy she spent all summer with, Josh Chan. He says it was fun for the time, but it’s time to get back to real life. We flash forward to the present in New York, Rebecca’s world muted in greys and blues with clothing as conservative as her hair.

She’s become a top tier lawyer, a career that she doesn’t enjoy but was pushed into by her overprotective, controlling mother. She’s just found out she’s being promoted to junior partner, and that’s just objectively, on paper fantastic, right?! ...So why isn’t she happy? She goes out onto the streets in the midst of a panic attack, spilling her pills all over the ground, and suddenly sees an ad for butter asking, “When was the last time you were truly happy?” A literal arrow and beam of sunlight then point to none other than Josh Chan. She strikes up a conversation with him where he tells her he’s been trying to make it in New York but doesn’t like it, so he’s moving back to his hometown, West Covina, California, where everyone is just...happy.

The word echoes in her mind, and she absorbs it like a pill. She decides to break free of the hold others have had over her life and turns down the promotion of her mother’s dreams. I didn’t realize the show was a musical when I started it, and it’s at this point that Rebecca is breaking out into its first song, “West Covina”. It’s a parody of the extravagant, classic Broadway numbers filled with a children’s marching band whose funding gets cut, locals joining Rebecca in synchronized song and dance, and finishing with her being lifted into the sky while sitting on a giant pretzel. This was the moment I realized there was something special here.

With this introduction, the stage has been set for the premise of the show. Each season was planned with an overall theme. Season one is all about denial, season two is about being obsessed with love and losing yourself in it, season three is about the spiral and hitting rock bottom, and season four is about renewal and starting from scratch. You can see this from how the theme songs change every year, each being the musical thesis for that season.

We start the show with a bunch of cliché characters: the crazy ex-girlfriend; her quirky sidekick; the hot love interest; his bitchy girlfriend; and his sarcastic best friend who’s clearly a much better match for the heroine. The magic of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is that no one in West Covina is the sum of their tropes. As Rachel says herself, “People aren’t badly written, people are made of specificities.”

The show is revolutionary for the authenticity with which it explores various topics but for the sake of this piece, we’ll discuss mental health, gender, Jewish identity, and sexuality. All topics that Bloom has dug into in her previous works but none better than here.

Simply from the title, many may be put off, but this is a story that has always been about deconstructing stereotypes. Rather than being called The Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, where the story would be from an outsider’s perspective, this story is from that woman’s point of view because the point isn’t to demonize Rebecca, it’s to understand her. Even if you hate her for all the awful things she’s doing.

The musical numbers are shown to be in Rebecca’s imagination, and she tells us they’re how she processes the world, but as she starts healing in the final season, she isn’t the lead singer so often anymore and other characters get to have their own problems and starring roles. When she does have a song, it’s because she’s backsliding into her former patterns.

While a lot of media will have characters that seem to have some sort of vague disorder, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend goes a step further and actually diagnoses Rebecca with Borderline Personality Disorder, while giving her an earnest, soaring anthem. She’s excited and relieved to finally have words for what’s plagued her whole life.

When diagnosing Rebecca, the show’s team consulted with doctors and psychiatrists to give her a proper diagnosis that ended up resonating with many who share it. BPD is a demonized and misunderstood disorder, and I’ve heard that for many, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the first honest and kind depiction they’ve seen of it in media. Where the taboo of mental illness often leads people to not get any help, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend says there is freedom and healing in identifying and sharing these parts of yourself with others.

Media often uses suicide for comedy or romanticizes it, but Crazy Ex-Girlfriend explored what’s going through someone’s mind to reach that bottomless pit. Its climactic episode is written by Jack Dolgen (Bloom’s long-time musical collaborator, co-songwriter and writer for the show) who’s dealt with suicidal ideation. Many misunderstood suicide as the person simply wanting to die for no reason, but Rebecca tells her best friend, “I didn’t even want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. It’s like I was out of stories to tell myself that things would be okay.”

Bloom has never shied away from heavy topics. The show discusses in song the horrors of what women do to their bodies and self-esteem to conform to beauty standards, the contradiction of girl power songs that tell you to “Put Yourself First” but make sure you look good for men while doing it, and the importance of women bonding over how terrible straight men are are near and dear to her heart. This is a show that centers marginalized women, pokes fun at the misogyny they go through, and ultimately tells us the love story we thought was going to happen wasn’t between a woman and some guy but between her and her best friend.

I probably haven’t watched enough Jewish TV or film, but to me, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the most unapologetic and relatable Jewish portrayal I’ve seen overall. From Rebecca’s relationship with her toxic, controlling mother (if anyone ever wants to know what my mother’s like, I send them “Where’s the Bathroom”) to Patti Lupone’s Rabbi Shari answering a Rebecca that doesn’t believe in God, “Always questioning! That is the true spirit of the Jewish people,” the Jewish voices behind the show are clear.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend continues to challenge our perceptions when a middle-aged man with an ex-wife and daughter realizes he’s bisexual and comes out in a Huey Lewis saxophone reverie. The hyper-feminine mean girl breaks up with her boyfriend and realizes the reason she was so obsessed with getting him to commit to her is the same reason she’s so scared to have female friends. She was suffering under the weight of compulsory heterosexuality, but thanks to Rebecca, she eventually finds love and friendship with women.

This thread is woven throughout the show. Many of the characters tell Rebecca when she’s at her lowest of how their lives would’ve never changed for the better if it wasn’t for her. She was a tornado that blew through West Covina, but instead of leaving destruction in her wake, she blew apart their façades, forcing true introspection into what made them happy too.

Rebecca’s story is that of a woman who felt hopeless, who felt no love or happiness in her life, when that’s all she’s ever wanted. She tried desperately to fill that void through validation from her parents and random men, things romantic comedies had taught her matter most but came up empty. She tried on a multitude of identities through the musical numbers in her mind, seeing herself as the hero and villain of the story, and eventually realized she’s neither because life doesn’t make narrative sense.

It takes her a long time but eventually she sees that all the things she thought would solve her problems can’t actually bring her happiness. What does is the real family she finds in West Covina, the town she moved to on a whim, and finally having agency over herself to use her own voice and tell her story through music.

The first words spoken by Rebecca are, “When I sang my solo, I felt, like, a really palpable connection with the audience.” Her last words are, “This is a song I wrote.” This connection with the audience that brought her such joy is something she finally gets when she gets to perform her story not to us, the TV audience, but to her loved ones in West Covina. Rebecca (and Rachel) always felt like an outcast, West Covina (and creating the show) showed her how cathartic it is to find others who understand you.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the prologue to Rebecca’s life and the radical story of someone getting better. She didn’t need to change her entire being to find acceptance and happiness, she needed to embrace herself and accept love and help from others who truly cared for her. Community is what she always needed and community is what ultimately saved her.

*

P.S. If you have Spotify... I also process life through music, so I made some playlists related to the show because what better way to express my deep affection for it than through song?

CXG parodies, references, and is inspired by a lot of music from all kinds of genres, musicals, and musicians. Same goes for the videos themselves. I gathered all of them into one giant playlist along with the show’s songs.

A Rebecca Bunch mix that goes through her character arc from season 1 to 4.

I’m shamelessly a fan of Greg x Rebecca, so this is a mega mix of themselves and their relationship throughout the show.

*

I’m in a TV group where we wrote essays on our favorite shows of the 2010s, so here is mine on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, I realized I forgot to ever post it. Also wrote one for Schitt’s Creek.

[nikasholistic]

How do we change our subconscious belief systems? Ik it takes time, patience and self-awareness to reprogram ourselves, to tear out the destructive and self-sabotaging habits/thought patterns/(in)actions, to replace them with the right things that'll allow us to live the life we deserve

How do we actually do that?

There's such an info overload on the net. Who do I trust? What actually works? I really want to change, but I keep relapsing, then I give up, then as I realise I've spiralled, I get desperate, then I re-try... Then the cycle repeats

I have deep-rooted issues - no doubt that's why anything I try doesn't stick (plus mostly, what can I do when a part of me itself doesn't care about 'changing'? My desire to change < Convincing power of that part). It's unbearable, sometimes. Other times, when I wake up, I conveniently completely forget I was doing a particular method (eg I find myself working on affirmations for up to a week, then the next day somehow I don't even remember doing this (or I magically lose the paper I'd written them on), and it takes a while before I recall what I was working on). Extremely frustrating. Especially since it took me a while to identify these sly tricks of the SC mind (and it was a real aha moment when I looked back and saw this pattern snaking back into my past)

Ah these SC beliefs. It's so insane how powerful they can be. Ik some part of me is scared sick of me changing and getting rid of the old (90%+ self-destructive) me. Idk how to battle myself when it seems so natural for me to fall into these quicksand traps. Idk if you've experienced this. It's been some months now and it's not getting easier

Ever since I've 'woken up', I realise how rotten my current reality is, and the consequences of my poor thinking/feeling in the past. But I accept that. It's just: what if everything keeps going like this, and eventually leads to the same future? An unfulfilled, lackadaisical existence. I'm terrified of that. As if I'm in the passenger seat of a crashing car. The worst is when opportunities do knock (coz of some successful deliberate LOA practices), and I find myself unable to step up. Deep fear, hidden guilt, major lack of trust in myself have led to this. Phases of darkness during my developing years haven't helped either. As time passes, and the above cycle repeats, I become aware of more (long-buried) twisted beliefs and distorted concepts of my 'worth' and 'future'. It's frightening what monsters have been hiding under the bed. I feel helpless and alone

If I really force myself to challenge some beliefs, say, I end up 'researching' instead, and we all know endlessly consuming content (articles, 'self-help' books, YT 'coaches') is nice and all, but it ain't worth nothing without application

And application is where I fail

The only thing that's changed is I've become self-aware (say, half of the time) in realising when I'm falling prey to the 'destructive' beliefs. Again, it's not much use when I still give in (except now with added guilt at the back of my mind). But no, I do admit it's an achievement! I'm more aware of my thoughts too (as opposed to never realising what damage I was doing to myself by self-inflicting pain via thoughts for so many years)

Can I change? How would you go about turning your life around, from within, if you were in my place?

You inspire me so much. I hope you can give me some advice. I need help like you would help a child - Leading by the hand

What do I do, henceforth, to start rebuilding the foundations of my mind? (SC belief system)

Love you ❤️

And apologies for the long ask but I had to get it out of my chest instead of letting the helplessness grow unchecked. Any help would be appreciated eternally

Thank you for opening up, sometimes we just have to allow the words to flow✨

First of all, I would highly recommend Dr. Joe Dispenza’s book Breaking The Habit of Being Yourself. Because this is what you have to do in order to establish a new belief system, you have to break the habit of being yourself and thus let go of the past self. Dispenza shows you how to do this.

What I’ve personally learned from his books, and from other materials, is that establishing a new belief system is never an immediate thing, and you have to be very patient. You also have to be prepared for setbacks and be willing to rise above them.

I think you’re in some kind of loop with your current belief system. We have between 60-70 000 thoughts a day. 95% of these thoughts are unconscious thoughts. 90% of the thoughts you have today are the same thoughts you had yesterday. You’re running on autopilot, and the key is to establish a new program.

You change your belief system through repetition and turning disempowering beliefs into empowering beliefs. Shadow work is essential here because first, you have to understand the root of particular thoughts, and then change this root and create more empowering beliefs. You say you’re afraid of certain beliefs you uphold, and you don’t have to. You can heal them and let them go. 

Since the subconscious mind is like a computer, you have to establish a new program, and you do this by repetition. Affirmations are essential here. I’ve got a post about affirmations, you can read it here, I would highly recommend combining some of the techniques I presented there. I really think that affirmations are the best and the most effective way to reprogram your mind; you're already programming your mind with certain affirmations, but these affirmations are full of fear and uncertainty. Time for the new, conscious ones.

However, the most important part of changing your belief system is commitment. Why? Because the moment you decide to change, your ego will do everything to prevent you from attaining change. Your ego’s job is to protect you, and it does so by keeping you in a familiar situation, even if this situation doesn't serve you. Your ego is afraid of the unknown, however, the only way to establish a new belief system and thus a new reality is to willingly step into the unknown. You say you’re afraid of letting go of your old self, but it’s just your ego trying to be in control. You can let go of your past self. Your past self has nothing to offer you anymore. 

You have to become very conscious of your habits. Maybe change your routine a little bit? Stop doing certain things on autopilot, and find new ways of doing them. It’s connected with something called neuroplasticity, Dr. Joe Dispenza explains it very well in the book I’ve mentioned. 

It usually takes about 30-90 days of consistent work to establish a new belief system. That’s why you have to stay committed. You have to be prepared for a little battle with your past self and past belief system. You have to be prepared for the fact that you might want to come back to your old thinking patterns, and the moment you do this, it’s time to self-regulate. It’s time to switch your thinking and your emotions. Whenever you do this, you become a conscious designer of your reality and you stop allowing life to happen to you.

Hope that this was helpful. I know that you can do this, it takes time, but eventually, you’ll master your thoughts. 

Love you too 💗

[solactier]

This one’s for you @heytherestilinski

This is going to be quite the mixture of emotions, so I apologise in advance if my expression of said feelings is all over the place, but I simply must talk about the golden fanfiction that is Heat Waves and how it has swayed my soul with sounds of sweet bells.

To start, I should say, I’ve been in love with writing and reading for as long as I can remember. The ability to weave an entire world with mere threads of words is fascinating to me, always has been. I’ve taken in quite the number of books and fanfictions throughout my period of living, and considering so, I can confidently say:

Dakota’s writing is a force to be reckoned with.

But the force I speak of is the kind that is emitted from ember sunrises that one witnesses during moments between summer and autumn. They hold a certain glow that keeps a person sat there, for incessant hours, in pursuit of a special warmth that will leave them settled and content.

I have never been captured and pulled in by a descriptive style more than I was with Dakota’s, and I say this having read a multitude of her work. This author is admirable in a multitude of ways, and I’m genuinely excited for anything and everything they will produce in the upcoming future. 

I could ramble for a good bout of time about many of Dakota’s works, but that would result in a document longer than Dream’s 19 page rebuttal, so let’s focus on one (for now).

Heat Waves

Two words that hold a grand amount of weight and cause hearts to shift.

I have a lot to say about this prosperous and glorious story, but at the same time I don’t because upon finishing a chapter, be it one of the first or the last, I am rendered speechless. My words of explanation and admiration morph into vibrations of zeal flowing through my veins as I absorb beautiful descriptions and powerful dialogue.

Heat Waves chapters aren’t ones I find myself totally rereading often, and here’s why:

When reaching the end of whatever chapter and scrolling through the final notes, I am left satisfied, completely. Dakota’s style is captivating in a way that allows me to read their sentences and phrases carefully and attentively, making sure the picture painted in my mind is as accurate as possible. I will encounter a certain, strong line and read it again, and again, and again before continuing on as to ensure I consume the sentiment being served, and mind you, it was served.

I came here at first expecting the usual or normal plate-size of feelings, but oh was I wrong, I was quenched, fully fed, if you will lol.

The reason for that is this narrative is not your typical fanfic troupe.

Heat Waves is a story about messy, unpredictable love, and that’s what makes it as enthralling as it is. It is poetic as it is real.

It’s thrilling lust turned to excruciating yet oh so warm love.

Dream misses and wants to hold onto George’s presence regardless of the pain it causes him, of the internal conflicts that have suddenly surfaced, of the changes he must face and make, of the haunting dreams. 

Even if George’s actuality distresses and brings Dream affectionate confusion, he will still reach for him. He will hurt and hurt and hurt in order to grasp the heat he’s grown a little too addicted to because he prefers when George is around, rather than when he isn’t. 

Dream’s mind spirals and his feelings scatter over interactions due to him knowing George very well, yet not knowing him at all. The two could flirt and exchange the most ridiculous of dialogue and nothing would change, and that’s where a certain dilemma is contrived: How much of this is real? What is considered serious among the numerous jokes him and George make? How far is he allowed to go? All of these questions tug at the curves of Dream’s brain and heart, and he is unsure about much, but despite that, he finds himself thinking all about George, during late nights, in the middle of June. 

Dream undergoes a series of emotional disputes over whatever the fuck is happening between himself and George, and that, my friends, is the heartache that comes from truly having feelings for someone and wanting their every speckle. Of course, such strong desires can sometimes be unhealthy. Dream, at one point, is a bad friend to Sapnap (whom we all must agree to stan because damn sir your back must be hurting from carrying your two idiot friends’ passionate but disordered baggage. a king) by ignoring his calls and messages due to being caught up, tied, and trapped in the strings of yearning. This one guy is doing so much damage to Dream, but he’s fallen too far down the pit of affection to care, in fact, he luxuriates in it.

(I also honestly do not blame Dream for playing the song on loop, because same, really does make you feel things)

Dream loves George. He loves George so much that the simplest of phrases and statements set his nerves ablaze and sparks his soul with hope.

It’s so painful but so fucking invigorating.

Which is why, at one point or another, he must learn to let go, not completely, but enough to stop the analysing and obsessing and sweating and dreaming, and that’s what’s so enticing about this tale, that among the reaching, there must be patience in order to reach something stable. Dream has been going insane for far too long, pouring his heart out to the one he so desires, but with such want comes uncertainty and surprises. Who the hell would’ve thought George had feelings for Dream for a good while before reeling himself in, only for his emotions to be stimulated with affection all too unexpectedly.

and who would’ve foreseen the slap of pure angst that were chapters 9 and 10, George’s hopeful rejection.

We read the two flirt, smile and laugh until their chests ached, connect, talk and call for hours, send fucking snapchats to eachother, telling sentimental stories, and much more.

All for Dream to crumble, piece by piece, until he is on the floor and crying over missing a chance he’s been so desperately trying to take. After what felt like a blooming relationship, Dream is seen breaking.

Because George wasn’t ready.

Because George was hit by a sudden wave of emotion that is so confusing and overwhelming and what the fuck Dream.

Yet, not all has been lost. The blazing fire of yearning may have been rained on, but it has not gone out.

Because it’s not a no, it’s a not yet.

And I cannot tell you the power such a statement holds. It was such a simple phrase, yet it shook my core as it delivers something raw, something hopeful, something to look forward to and have you inhaling a breath of longing because embers are still sparking and maybe, maybe, that chance isn’t completely out of Dream’s reach.

He just has to work on listening, bettering himself, healing and reaching a point of self-contentment. A point where he knows: he’s right for George, he’s enough for George. And the same goes for the latter.

Everything is so messy and destructive and confusing, yet they still reach.

And that, that, is such a raw form of love that it left my chest tight. They both want to be the best for eachother. They want to work and try for eachother despite the pain it may bring. They wait, and with their patience comes progression, which slowly but surely, will turn into comfort.

And to have the ability to articulate and describe such a journey is insane in every sense of the world. This story takes your collection of emotions and rattles it, making you feel so much at once that when ending a reading session, you release a satisfactory breath.

It didn’t end with attained love, or accepting confessions, or a romantic moment during the visit, or promises of kisses, or whatever cliche closing you could think of.

It ended with two friends saying “see you soon”

And that was perfect.

Perfect enough leave me, the reader, content and in awe. Because this is a slow and difficult love, one that will simply need time, as time is what will heal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Dakota is truly an inspiration.

Thank you, for creating and sharing such a masterpiece of a story, and having your readers go through the entire spectrum of emotions.

I cannot wait for Helium.

:)

[ygreczed-3]

Hey ~ I’m just... dropping that here... with one of Hank’s speech at the AA group therapy. I was daydreaming about him the other day, about his life, the before, the after.

Of course I’ll be back in a few hours to update Another day at the DPD ! <3

Thank you Leo for your support, thank to you I found the courage to post a fic in english <3

“Better”

Words : about 200 Ship : Hancon Warnings : mention of his ex, Cole’s death, divorce, alcoholism, suicidal thoughts

“I still remember that case, one of my first. I was a reckless, proud rookie, wanted to go after villains as they did in movies. That one time, it didn't end well for me. Had a sprained ankle, with probably some of those ridiculously tiny foot bones broken.

My partner took me to the hospital.

There she was. Young and shining. She was cute, sure, but most of all, nice, caring. The kind of person who looks at everyone as if they were family, someone to love and protect. I loved that. It felt like she would do anything for my well being, like I was worth all her attention.

I asked her on a date.

She refused politely.

I wasn't gonna push it, you know, I'm a gentleman… ahem.

I saw her weekly, when I came for my physical therapy, and only waved politely in her direction each time. Not a word. And when I came for the last medical check, she asked me out. Just as simply as that.

We got together, lived a carefree, lighthearted love that lasted long enough for me to propose. We were talking about kids, about dogs, about a house and about how we would grow old together. And then, he came into my life, my only treasure, my wonderful little Cole.

We started living for this little gem more than for ourselves. He was as kind as her and as fucking bold as me. Impish but soft boy. I can still see him petting softly the baby dog we adopted, promising he would take care of him.

So many dreams and thoughts in such a little body. So many things he never experienced.

He left us, and took with him all my joy, my willingness, my hope and dreams.

Left me with nothing but tear-salty whisky, despair and anger, anger against myself, against androids, against the world.

She tried to help me, dealing with her own grief at the same time, as I was slowly turning into something scaringly grim and destructive. Guess it was too much, even for her. I know she left for her security, like self defense you know, and I honestly can't blame her. I was self-destructing, and, has she stayed, she would have been caught in the blast, like mere collateral damage. I couldn't look at her anymore, anyway. She would only remind me of my dead child. I guess she was seeing him in me as well. 

She moved to another city, on the west coast.

Last I heard, she’s quit her job as a nurse and found herself again in flower arrangements. I know she met someone because several years later, I received the divorce papers by mail, with a stupid postcard and a few words scribbled on it.

"We've been through something terrible but we have to keep living, Hank. I still love you, just, not the same way as before"

I felt the same somehow. I was grieving for my kid more than for my marriage. 

And the self destruction kept going. I may have been too much of a coward to kill myself and tried to drink to make it easier. That's how this shit started. Was thinking that if a bullet wouldn't do the job then alcohol would do it instead. So, I became this alcoholic wreck. Nothing made sense. How could the fucking universe kill my son and let me survive my uncontrollable downward spiral ? There was no justice. There was nothing left to fight for.

And then Connor.

Like a dim light first, the kind of shithead who break into your house and force you into cold shower to sober you, I know you get what I mean. A glimpse of hope in my life, and with time, he became the holy fucking sun.

After the revolution, suddenly I was living again. For someone else, for this new friend, to help him with the fucking emotion chart deviancy had thrown at him with no ‘how-to for beginners’. Helped him for joy. Helped him for anger. Helped him for fear, frustration, sadness, jealousy.

Helped with tastes, hobbies, curiosity.

Progressively more and more Connor and less booze, even if it didn't disappear on its own, but you all know it never disappear on its own, right ?

The wide open wound Cole did when he left… well, it started to heal. I don't know if it will ever close but it hurts less and less. Sometimes it bleeds again, but always comes back to slowly and irretrievably healing.

Connor gave me distraction first, and then, soft, kind attention. He cares, and fuck, the last person to care for this big mess was my ex. And well, Connor did that just as good. I realize that a few years ago, in a hospital and with a sprained ankle, I would have asked him on a date.

Not that he's anything similar to her : he's cocky, sometimes, socially awkward, and he could beat the crap out of me if he wanted to. But he cares for me, you know.

But heh. Android-perfect angels don't go on a date with old, alcoholic, bear-like man.

Well, Connor did.

If I am here today, it's because I found a new reason to be in this world. A new reason to try to stick around as long as possible.

I'm Hank Anderson, I'm an alcoholic and I want to get better.”

___________

(Friendly reminder that even when you think everything is lost, something good can happen to you) ;)

[kazeofthemagun]

[Ahh how long has it been since I posted sad headcanons - ]

Kaze's trauma, mental illness, and coping mechanisms

[As we know he's been through so much during his life, even before the destruction of Windaria at the hands of Chaos. Of course, he was attached to his world - who wouldn't be? It was all he ever knew, the only reality he had - but his story had been a tragic tale from the very start. Born a freak, he was shunned by society, until an opportunity arose to prove himself to a recruiting Wind Warrior and become a trainee. Thanks to his natural talent and affinity for magic, he rose from a lowly soldier to a summoner apprentice - and eventually, prodigy that he was, leader of his clan, Wind Warrior general and the chosen of Magun.]

[What are the factors that shape his personality, and cause him to act as strangely as he does? What is the long tale and damage of the human-Weapon hybrid that is the man known as Black Wind?]

[The love present in his life had always been conditional. Black Wind never knew his parents, his caretaker died when he was very young and he spent a good portion of his childhood battling for survival on the streets in one of the lower desert cities. His environment was hostile - not only due to the fact he was an orphan, but also since his hair color was thought to be cursed and indicative of a harbinger of future disaster. Kaze had always been proud and defiant, and his current hairstyle results from the fact he never chose to cut his hair in defiance of the ridiculous fairy tale (which turned out to be, ironically, correct) The fact of him being accepted by the Wind Warrior caste was solely due to his natural ability and grit - his new family was one of fighters who tolerated no weakness. As such, Kaze has been taught (and forced) to keep all of his feelings to himself, all his life. Never once was he allowed to cry openly - until he met Aura, with whom he developed a deep bond. As life seemed to loathe Kaze, their relationship turned out wrong as they discovered they were, in fact, siblings. Their bond was reshaped into a familial one, and miraculously strengthened, for they both had seen the ugly side of fate. Aura - and to a lesser extent Moogle Kupo, his Soil Missionary partner (who trained under Kaze, therefore was less likely at first) - were the only people to see the more vulnerable side of the Unlimited.]

[Black Wind is by nature an ambitious person. Without ambition (and ironically, considering his generally unlucky life, unparalleled luck), he would never have been able to pull himself up by his bootstraps and secure the position he held in the Warriors caste. Eventually, he was selected to wield the Magun, which brought with it the breaking of a promise he had made to Aura to continue to live peacefully together, and extreme guilt. As the champion of the Gun Beast, he was further dehumanized. Some sort of sacred idol of summoners, there was no place to express human flaws or weakness. Not like there had ever been any socially acceptable way to do so in the first place.]

[The destruction of Windaria was his greatest failure. Even with the power of the Magun, he could not stop Chaos. Having lost everything he loved, he became even more bitter, and most of what fuels him is spite and rage. This brings us to actually discussing Kaze's mental illness and coping mechanisms. How does a man this thoroughly broken handle his newly acquired quest, when any normal person's life would have ended during the events that transpired?]

[It is difficult to discuss "neurodivergency" in what is essentially an alien race and culture that appears human, but due to both genetic and environmental factors, he is extremely emotionally isolated, unused to casual friendship and, taking into account his history, uncomfortable and distrustful around people in general. This manifests in the guarded persona he exhibits and a refusal to disclose seemingly any details about himself. Even during his time with the Wind Warriors, Kaze was particularly reserved, with Moogle Kupo often acting as his diplomatic voice whenever he lacked the patience to deal with others.]

[The Wind cult's culture abhorred weakness. The only instances where Kaze was ever able to vent in any capacity was with Aura - and it was understandably difficult to a man who could never do so before. With her, he experienced the beginning of a healing that was cruelly ripped away when Chaos descended. As the Unlimited Demon Gunman especially, he exhibits less and less outward emotion and actively dehumanizes himself. Kaze believes himself to be the Weapon and his old persona to be secondary to his calling. As such, he rarely speaks of anything to do with his past and guards any semblance of vulnerability fiercely.]

[He does not want to believe that the Weapon that he is can be capable of breaking and failing emotionally, for it is still partially human. This has caused him to develop unhealthy coping mechanisms.]

[Kaze suffers from bouts of dissociation and derealization tied to his PTSD, as well as the occasional psychotic breakdowns that manifest in vivid hallucinations. He is unable to receive treatment for various reasons, and medication is unlikely to stay and work in his altered blood (not that he would agree to take any.) He is still unable to properly unpack his trauma and express his emotions - during his breakdowns, caused sometimes by specific triggers (hand holding and blue flowers of a certain shape, especially bioluminescent) he may cry and act erratically, or shut down completely. When the episode ends, he seems not to remember it occurring or remembers it very hazily. This is because Kaze actively represses his human weakness and rejects it as something he is allowed to express outwardly. Even as a Soil mage, who understands emotion as part of spiritual flow of nature, he feels trapped in his own mind, wounded by his upbringing and Chaos alike.]

[Kaze is very mentally ill and won't speak of it. He harbors a great deal of negative emotion which fuels Chaos, which causes him to loathe his predicament and perpetuates the downward spiral. Fearing the possibility of being possessed by Chaos once again, he suffers visions of the blue flowers of Gaudium growing inside his body and feasting on his own hatred. As an extremely tormented soul, he focuses his toxicity on White Cloud even as they work together. He is angry, difficult, and distant, but ultimately tries to be a good person. He wishes for nothing more than to overcome the Chaos within, but being unable to, he settles for weaponizing his rage instead the best he can. In the end, he's locked in a self-perpetuating nightmare without escape. Even though there may be no escape from his fate, there is still a possibility of healing and improvement, but achieving such is a long and rocky road that he is afraid to travel. He has more important things to do, after all - hunting Chaos.]