#her mental illnesses. And you know.. He does leave her one day believing it's best for her not to be with him anymore. The voice was right

[uroborosymphony]

   Love of my Life,

   2024, February 14th. Unsent letter to Taiyang Tseng.

Obsession. I'm obsessed with you. With the sound of your voice in my ear, my name rolling on your tongue, your touch down my back and loins, I feel you, deep, carved under my skin. You are my sun. Through years of a past of misery, of struggle and pain, you are my light. And I remember these hopeless nights begging for Gods to see me and they did, they made us find each other.

But now, she wants you, too. She is the eye watching me from the inside, the voice that gets louder than yours in the night. The things she says to me are so unbearable to the human soul, I cannot allow myself to share them with you. I'm haunted, Taiyang. By this monster of another Me that has been birthed from the deaths of my pasts and untold secrets. She makes me lie to you, every time I lay down by your side, everytime I look at you in the eye, you, the man who I promised my life, my core, my thoughts and my hearts to, she tells me Not to say anything about what we did, she tells me you wouldn't understand, she tells me you will leave us.

I don't remember exactly what she did. What I did - what we did. I simply know we're responsible of it. My nightmares and many realities are blending, hallucinations of scenes and demonic theaters I cannot write myself out of anymore. I stand on this stage, alone and she, becomes my shadow at first, my puppeteer at last. We watched the building burst into flames as we were laughing Oh we were laughing in ways we never laughed before, her and I, in ways I could feel my inside shaping, morphing, turning into something I couldn't recognize anymore . And then I cried, I cried for not knowing where I was, how I ended up here, not knowing why my hands were covering in all this blood and gasoline. It used to be games, with you by my side, my hair in the wind as the car was running, setting us free in the heart of the city. I am a prisoner now, a prisoner of these voices inside my head who tells me it's my Duty to kill.

I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you. I adore you.

Sun to my Moon. Joker to my Quinn. Clyde to my Bonnie.

I would kill for you. I would let the blood pour and pour until there is nothing left but you and I. Will she take you away from me? Will she burn everything around me for me to end up as alone as we have always been?

My mother once told me, You are a malediction, Ara. Jung women do not deserve happiness, Jung women are toxic, Jung women are poison. I see it now, us, Jung women are meant to this suffering she saw her own mother perish of. The white of the walls is hard for me to stand whenever I go to see her. I cannot bear the eyes she lays on me : I am her, her from a past - she wishes she could beat me up until she breaks skin for not fixing her the way she wished I could, when she gave birth to me. I cannot bear the eyes I lay on her either, she is me, a future I cannot escape : damned, locked.

I am losing my mind. I know I am. And I will spiral and spiral indefinitely, I will let it happen, I will let it take me whole. I used not to be scared, with your arms around me, your soul within mine, I used to be fearless. Am I still? Knowing the clock is ticking, knowing the end is coming.

She must kill them all, my Love, else I will never be free.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Unsent letter to @velvetineblue. From Ara.

[xxoxobree]

Kill Bill?

Miles G. x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: Miles Moved on But You Aren’t To Happy About It

WARNINGS: Aged Up, Dark Content, Delusional/Mentally Ill Reader , Death!

A/n: Tis was a request. Hope you like Anon 🫶🏽

You sat across from Miles' house in a car that he couldn't recognize, the windows tinted to shade your face just to be on the safe side. As you tapped your fingernails across the dashboard, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. You knew you shouldn't be here, not after the restraining order he had against you, but love makes us do crazy things, doesn't it?

There he is - your heart skipped a beat as your head snapped towards his figure. You watched his every move, hidden behind the tinted glass. As he walked past the car, you couldn't resist calling out to him, your voice cracking from the overwhelming emotions you felt. "Hey baby," you said softly, your words barely audible.

It had been five days since you last saw him, that day in court where he looked so good in his suit that you nearly drooled at the sight. The memories of that day flooded your mind, the pain and longing for him. But now, you were just an observer from a distance, unable to be with him the way you wanted.

You watched him go inside his house, a lump forming in your throat. It was time for you to leave too, but not to go home. Instead, you drove off to therapy. It wasn't something you were initially interested in. You believed you were fine, that your love for Miles was enough to heal any wounds. But you attended therapy because if that was what it took to get Miles back, you would do it.

You entered the building twirling your keys in a circle, happy because you had just seen the love of your life. With a skip in your step, you took a seat, waiting for your name to be called, daydreaming about Miles and what he might be doing right now. The thought of his silly faces while watching a movie made you giggle, and you eagerly anticipated seeing those expressions again.

Suddenly, you were pulled out of your blissful thoughts as you heard your name called, "Y/n L/n." Letting out a frustrated sigh, you got up and walked into the therapist's room. The therapist, Ms. K, greeted you with a warm smile and extended her hands, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Hello, Ms. L/n," she said kindly. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," you replied. "Can we make this quick? I don't want to be here."

Ms. K nodded understandingly before proceeding with her usual questions, the ones you had answered the same way every time you came. But this time, something different happened. The therapist's response wasn't what you wanted to hear, and it echoed in your mind, unsettling you.

"There are other men, Y/n," Ms. K said gently. "Men who will actually share the same affection for you."

You screwed your face in distaste, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. How could she possibly know what was best for you? Miles was the love of your life, and you couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

"What are you talking about? He loves me and I love him." Your face hardened. "Who does this lady think she is," you asked yourself internally.

"All I'm saying is don't limit yourself to Miles," she replied calmly.

"Whatever, are we done now?" you asked, gathering your things without waiting for a response. You left, still fuming at her audacity to speak about you and Miles.

You got in the car, speeding out of the parking lot. The anger still simmered within you as you thought about how you and Miles were going to prove everyone wrong. "We're fine, you'll see. We're gonna get married and have 7 kids," you huffed out.

Determined to see him again, you made a right turn, turning off your lights. You knew his street, and you had to see him. Parking on the opposite side, you waited anxiously. You knew he checked the mail at 5 PM every day.

Time passed slowly, and just as you were beginning to lose hope, he appeared. But it wasn't at 5 PM. It was 7 PM, dressed incredibly, making your heart skip a beat. His braids looked freshly done.

"You look so good, Papa," you said, using the nickname only you and his mother used.

You watched his every move as he opened the passenger side of his car door, and someone came out. Another girl. Your stomach turned, and your eyes instantly welled with tears as you covered your mouth. Your chest rapidly rose and fell when he hooked his arm around her waist. The sight was like a sharp knife, piercing through your heart.

You let out a scream, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that were eating you inside. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing—Miles, your Miles, was cheating on you. A wave of anger and sadness washed over you.

Without a second thought, you put the car in reverse and sped off, leaving a trail of smoke behind you. The world outside became a blur as tears streamed down your face. The pain in your chest was unbearable, but you refused to let it consume you completely.

Once you arrived home, the tears continued to flow. Confusion engulfed your mind as you tried to make sense of why Miles would do such a thing. In court, he had whispered words of love,(He didn't 🤣) but now it seemed like a cruel joke. This separation was only temporary, he said, but how could you believe him after what you had just witnessed?

A thousand thoughts swirled in your mind as you lay in bed, unable to find comfort. Why did she get to have him? You loved him more than anyone ever could. Why did he want her? You knew you were so much better than her, and you were willing to be the best version of yourself for him.

You stared out of the window, at the dazzling lights of New York. As your gaze wandered, It began to click. She doesn't get to have him. No one can, if it isn't you. A mischievous smile slowly crept across your face as you began to plot and scheme in your head.

Your first plan of action was to send a text, a text you probably shouldn't have sent, but it was for Miles' own good. "Hey babe. I miss you sooo much. I saw you with that new 'bitch of the week.' Drop her, and we can get some lunch tomorrow." You clicked the send button, waiting for his response.

Almost immediately, a reply came through. "Y/n, leave me alone. You're crazy." His words stung, but you couldn't let it deter you. "Awee, pookie, crazy about you," you responded, trying to maintain a light-hearted tone. He left you on read. That was the signal to move on to the next phase of your plan. If he didn't want to meet tomorrow, you would meet now.

You slipped on your AirPods, drowning out the world with Aaliyah's classic song, "One in a Million." The rhythm pulsated through your ears as you rummaged through your drawers, pulling out black sweatpants, a black hoodie, and a black balaclava. It was time to embrace the shadows. Miles had bought you the all-black Air Force 1 high tops, which completed your dark ensemble.

You did a spin in the mirror, admiring your reflection with a wicked smile before heading towards your kitchen. You rummaged through the kitchen drawers until your fingers grazed against it - the biggest knife you owned. The cold steel sent a thrilling shiver down your spine as you slipped it discreetly into the pocket of your sweats.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you skipped out of the house and approached the blacked-out car waiting for you. Connecting your phone to the aux, you selected Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together" - a song that had deep meaning to you and Miles. As the music filled the air, you whispered, "I'm coming, baby," before speeding off towards Miles' house.

As you drove, tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. Your emotions were overwhelming but you couldn't let them distract you from your mission. "I'm here, babe, for us," you declared between sobs, your voice filled with a mix of determination and madness.

The lyrics of the song resonated with your turbulent emotions, and you sang your heart out, oblivious to the world around you. The tears continued to flow, leaving streaks on your face as you navigated the streets towards your destination.

Arriving at Miles' house, you parked the car and stepped out, exhilaration radiating from every pore. With the song still playing in the background, you made your way to the back of the building, following the familiar path you had walked countless times before.

Climbing the fire escape, you moved with deliberate slowness, allowing each step to be a painful reminder of the memories you and Miles had shared in this very place. Tears mingled with a sense of longing as you replayed the moments in your mind, unable to let go of the love that had consumed you.

Finally, you reached his window, gazing through the glass at the room that once held the echoes of your laughter and whispers. The sight of his belongings stirred a mixture of anger, desperation, and possessiveness within you. You were determined to make him see that you belonged together, no matter the cost.

The knife pressed against your side, a chilling reminder of your intentions. You took a deep breath, your entire being filled with a deadly combination of love and obsession.

Captivated by a scene that shattered your heart. There he was, wrapped in the embrace of his girlfriend. A longing burned in your eyes, mirroring the longing in your heart.

Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your face as a mix of pain and anger consumed you. You whispered breathily, "If I can't have him, no one will." Determination filled your shattered heart as you slowly approached the window, a smile creeping onto your face.

Carefully, you picked the lock. Your eyes fell upon Miles, writhing in his sleep before finally sitting up.

As he gently caressed his girlfriend's cheek and placed a tender kiss on her temple, you watched, your chest tightening with each flicker of affection as he left the room. A pang of jealousy coursed through your veins, fueling the storm inside you. It was the perfect opportunity.

Silently, you slid open his window, the cool night air brushing against your skin. With steady hands, you retrieved the knife you had carried in your pocket, twirling it expertly between your fingers. Its glint in the moonlight reflected the darkness you were about to commit.

With each step towards his bed, the weight of your emotions grew heavier. The lines between love and obsession blurred, and you clutched the knife tightly, its sharpness digging into your palm as you stood beside his bed, watching his girlfriends peaceful slumber.

In the dimly lit room, the tension hung heavy in the air. The bed creaked under the weight of your body as you hovered over the girl, a menacing expression etched onto your face. She squirmed uneasily, her eyes still closed, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Is that you, Miles?" she whispered. But you remained silent, your cold gaze fixated on her. Without a word, you pressed a cold knife against her neck, causing her eyes to shoot open in terror.

"Shhh, if you scream, I'll kill you," you whispered coldly, relishing in the power you held over her. You pressed the blade harder against her throat, deliberately cutting off her airways, watching as she struggled to breathe while desperately trying to remain silent. The twisted pleasure you felt at her suffering sent a chilling thrill down your spine. This was her punishment for daring to come between you and your man.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached the door, interrupting the tense atmosphere. Miles was coming closer. The girl mustered a feeble whimper before you pressed the knife even harder, drawing a thin line of blood.

In a flash, Miles burst into the room, flicking on the lights. His eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the scene before him – you, straddling his girlfriend with a knife pressed against her throat. Shock and horror painted his face as he struggled to comprehend the twisted scene before him.

You removed your balaclava, revealing your face to Miles. A glimmer of affection danced in your eyes as you gazed at him, the one you loved so deeply. "Hey, Papa," you greeted him, your voice filled with a twisted kind of love. "You looked so handsome earlier," you added, a hint of longing in your tone.

Tears welled up in Miles' eyes, his voice pleading as he held his hands up in surrender. "Y/n, please," he begged desperately.

"What? She's fine," you laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the room.

Miles knew you were a bit off in the head, but he never expected you to go this far. Fear filled him as he contemplated what you might do to his girlfriend, and what you might do to him.

"What do you actually care about her?" you said, your tone turning cold as a single tear rolled down your face. The glint of a knife caught the light, and you pressed it harder against her throat, causing her to struggle for breath.

"She doesn't deserve you," you muttered, your voice filled with a twisted mix of anger and jealousy.

"YOU'RE GONNA KILL HER, Y/N!" Miles screamed, his voice filled with terror.

You removed the knife from her neck, but before she could catch her breath, you quickly slashed her face, eliciting a cry of pain before placing the knife back to her throat.

"I don't care, Miles," you said, laughing cruelly in the girl's face, relishing in her tears. "You're really cute. I see why he'd like you. Too bad I messed up that pretty face."

"Come here, Miles," you commanded, your voice dripping with menace. He hesitated for a moment, torn between fear and helplessness. "Now, or I'll kill her. I swear I will."

With a quickening heartbeat, Miles reluctantly made his way over and took a seat next to you.

You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions as you uttered those words, "Give me a kiss." He leaned in, your lips met in a passionate embrace. In that moment, fireworks exploded in your mind, making it a kiss better than anything you could have ever imagined.

Your hand moved, the knife that had been pressed against the girl's neck found its way across Miles' throat. You had killed your ex.

As Miles's body fell backward, the light in his eyes fading away.. "I love you, Papa," you whispered, the words tinged with both love and something sinister.

Your attention swiftly shifted to the girl, a wicked smile curling your lips. The adrenaline coursing through your veins amplified the darkness within you. "Now, we can't have any witnesses, can we?" you chuckled, relishing in the power coursing through your veins.

She pleaded for her life, her eyes filled with terror and desperation. But her pleas fell on deaf ears, and just like Miles, she met her demise.

As you stood there, a blend of relief and calm washed over you. Stepping towards the window, you climbed out, leaving the scene of the crime behind. The moonlight illuminated your path as you made your way back to your car.

[beanghostprincess]

zolu or frobin for the ship thing!!

YAY I THOUGHT NOBODY WOULD ASK ME ANYTHING NGL AUIBFJKASFDFBFASBFJK

zolu: they make me mentally, physically, and spiritually ill. they're one of my favorite ships if not my favorite ship of all one piece. actually heavily surprised they aren't more popular, but i'm glad opla is kind of changing that. anyway- i've been shipping them since day 1. zoro's devotion to luffy is something i will never get tired of. the fact that he does not believe in any god canonically but the way he follows luffy is so easy to compare to religious imagery makes me weak in the knees and wanting to curl up and cry. zoro is luffy's anchor and the one that guides him when he's lost, and luffy is the one that saved zoro from a life of loneliness and gave him the chance to follow a dream he would have never fulfilled if he had continued on his own. luffy is, kind of literally, his sun. and i'm not even talking about moon/sun dynamics. i don't even consider them to be that specific trope. luffy is literally his sun and god and best friend and boyfriend and captain and everything. if you ask zoro what is luffy for him? his everything. that silly rubber guy? his captain. his sun. his moon. his stars. his dream. also!!! people never talk about luffy's pov when it comes to zolu, and it makes me so so so mad!!!! because his perception of zoro is so beautiful. luffy trusts him with his whole soul and would leave the crew on his bare hands if he needed to. zoro's his first mate. that's a captain's heart, man. luffy might be the captain but he's emotional and irrational, and he listens to what zoro has to say. their silent communication makes me want to bang my head against the concrete floor. luffy relies on him and zoro lets his guard down when it comes to luffy. they're so in love, whether you see it romantically or platonically... i love that they're so clingy and silly and so so so powerful together. if something happened to the other their worlds would literally be completely ruined. their love literally goes beyond romantic and platonic. they're the perfect definition of queer platonic. honestly, i'm not fond of luffy in sexual situations but when it comes to zolu it's just so easy to picture them being so so intimate... i'm gonna cry writing this they're so dear to me.

frobin: i want them to adopt me so damn much. my parents. mom and dad. i usually hate it when people use family labels when it comes to found family, because the point of found family is that they're not a conventional family but they love each other even more deeply than a blood related one does. however, this is my exception because i really really really think they give married vibes and i want them as my parents. their dynamic is so good!! perhaps it's just the fact that their arcs are basically the same one and they're the main characters of water 7/enies lobby (along with our dear god usopp. shout out to my boyfriend out there!!) but their backstories and dynamic are sooooo satisfactory and angsty and domestic to watch (yes, all at the same time). robin's personality is gentle and sweet but also kind of dark and satiric, with a lot of pain behind from her past. franky, on the other hand, is a big, funny, eccentric and extremely adorable guy with an emotional touch and a lot of energy. at first it's just "big funny guy x sweet gentle girl" but in reality is "big funny guy that always takes care of everyone with a smile on his face and is extremely protective of the one he loves x sweet gentle girl that is learning how to enjoy life and will protect her new family at all costs". it's not just the angst and hurt/comfort of it all, though! i love the fact that she's satiric and dark and he's just- he's just fucking scared of her sometimes. and tbh if you're not scared of your hot, goth, intelligent wife, what's the point? you know that meme of will smith showing off his wife? that's literally them. robin does anything and he's there supporting her. franky does anything and she's there saying "that idiot right there is my husband *tiny giggle*". anyway, basically they're very gentle and domestic and i wish my parents loved me the way they would please please franky and robin kiss get married and then adopt me plea-

TL;TR: i love both ships a lot! 10/10 <3

[igglemouse]

Simón had spent most of his time in Oasis Springs agonizing over Frida, after all, he was only here for her and although his mental had improved now that he was more away from the world of his past there was still the issue of her and what an issue it was.

He wanted to go to her, profess his love of her, make her understand that in the end, he couldn't be without her and show her that despite it all she, more than anyone else, had made him vulnerable.

But part of him knew it would be best to let her go. To stay away from her. After all, his life was misery and ill fortune, tying himself to her was sure to bring her down and after seeing how well she was doing for herself perhaps the only step forward was one without her.

So, Tuesday morning he talked with her father and asked what he should do. It was no surprise that the old man wanted him nowhere near his daughter. "You know how this ends for you, Simón, it ends tragically," her dad said. "And both of us have bought enough of that into her life."

Simón begrudgingly agreed but where did that leave him?

I think I've pretty much settled into Pascal's place I mean here I am once again making him breakfast but it really isn't official official, you know? I believe both of us wonder if this is all going too fast but who decides that really? Maybe, it's going at just the right pace?

Either way, I'm here cooking Oatmeal buttermilk pancakes, hoping this fits into his very strict diet.

I don't get too far into the preparation before he joins in and offers encouragement.

"You must be the perfect woman," he tells me and I can't help but to wink and smile his way. There's always a risk with him that it can turn into more. Eh, not a risk, a hope...but he does say he has a game today and so he needs to be very very focused for that.

That leaves me with plenty to do and before I could make a plan on what to do with my free time it is Irene who calls me and asks to come over. I met her at the food stand a day or so ago if you recall and I'm more than happy to get to know her better. I feel like out of all the people I've met I have the most in common with her and so I hope this is the start to a beautiful friendship.

Before she comes over I have time to make some ice cream and also mix some lemonade. Summer is coming up hard and fast here in Oasis Springs and you'd have to be stupid to find yourself outside without a cool drink or a handful of ice cream or something!

She strolls right up to the house after she hears me outside humming and making lemonade. I invite her to sit, thankful for the shade, and she's eager to jump right into a conversation about our shared hobby. Being chefs!

"I work at the Selva place, you know the one?"

I nod my head, once again thinking of Simón and the date we shared there and ummm, what happened after. Best not to think about that. "The food was really good! I plan on going back some day-"

"The boss is an ass but a loveable one," she says, joking. "Won't even hire anyone unless they have 'heritage' or whatever, which is silly but-"

"Oh? Is he hiring?" I say, pushing right past the red flag she had put before me and focusing on the opportunity. "Maybe he might be easier to deal with if you have a friend there to help you out?"

"Well, yes? Maybe? I think he might be. I could ask him for you but...like I mentioned, he's a bit of an ass! Be careful with him!"

I tell her I will and to go ahead and give him a good word for me. Who knows if I'll take the offer, who knows if I'll be offered, but I always consider an opportunity.

After that she talks a bit about my stand and how she is just a little jealous of it. "It's pretty bold," she says. "You're all on your own so if anything goes wrong, you are to blame. Takes a lot of courage."

"I guess...I felt like I had nothing to lose," I say, thinking about how she was right but when I started my stand I never thought of failure because I've lived through failure and tragedy and I've come out stronger. "You know it is fun, thinking about the recipes and all that and-"

"That's my dream you know? Having my own place..."

That is definitely a noble and respectable dream, one I think I share...

Irene has to go which of course leaves me home alone or...well, that's not technically my home but you know what I mean!

I could have sat there and watched television or something but instead decided to head to the gym. If Pascal is out playing a game with the team or whatever he's doing then I need to stay fit myself and what better way than yoga?

It was the perfect time for it too since there was no one else around.

And being at the gym meant it is likely that I run into Sara who I think was coming from her own light work out herself. She was super excited to see me and asked why I wasn't at home earlier. "Came to ask if you wanted to work out but you just arrived? What have you been up to?"

"I've been at Pascal's place," I come right out with it, watching her eyes grow big with excitement and demand.

"Oh! Wow! You HAVE to tell me about it!"

She drags me to one of the seats, sits across from me, and gives me a signal to go on. Looks like I have little option here but to indulge her need to know just a little bit although there isn't much for me to tell her. So, I just focus on the general feeling I have when it comes to him.

"He's simple, in a good way I mean. Keeps to himself, works out a lot, very focused on his career."

"See, see!" She says, referencing my conversation with her and Marjorie days ago. "Is it true? Is he trying to get transferred to Real Del Sol!?"

"Huh?" I have no idea what she's talking about.

"O-oh, just a rumor, Oasis FC you know, small team, respectable, but he's bound to outgrow them at this rate," she says nonchalantly. "Off to a bigger club to hopefully win championships and stuff. I just wondered if you'd have like the inside scoop-"

"Nooo," I'm shaking my head, regretting that I really know nothing at all about his career but I do know what that might mean for me, for us. "We don't talk much about fútbol honestly, it's not something he's mentioned."

"Hmm, I hope he doesn't go. As an OFC fan it'd suck to lose him."

"Yeah..." well, as his girlfriend it would suck too. I hope he doesn't go either but maybe it's just a rumor with nothing behind it? I'm just now getting to know him and if he were to go to another city would he ask me to come with?

Either way, right now I'll think nothing of it and enjoy the rest of my time at the gym.

Tomorrow is Summer Solstice and hopefully that means a pretty fun and eventful day. Let's hope at least!

Episode List - Next

[verdemoun]

hi!!! i absolutely adore the rdr2 timewarp au. it is EVERYTHING

so if i remember correctly you had a post a while back where you mentioned that arthur is super paranoid about his health in the modern era which is so real after everything. but it got me thinking, he can’t stay perfectly healthy 100% of the time, that’s not how the world works. so like, how does he (and everyone else) handle the first time he gets ill post warp? bc i’m guessing not well 😭😭😭

also i’d just love to hear more about how everyone’s deaths affected them, if you’re willing, bc most of them were obviously incredibly traumatic 💔

i apologize if someone’s asked this already 😫

thank you!! 🫶

hello hello and thank you so much!! and yes indeed i did and i love a chance to talk some angst: to the second point first! most of the gang had relatively quick deaths.

dutch gets vertigo. maybe it's the meds, maybe it's the distant memory of plummeting to his death

lenny gets really bad heartburn/phantom chest pains. sometimes it's just uncomfortably close to the pain and shortness of breath of being shot in the chest, and he will need someone to sit with him until it passes.

cannot overstate how much trauma kieran has related to his death. one thing that the gang would absolutely bully him for IF they didn't know why, is that Kieran sleeps with a nightlight. if he wakes up in the dark he will panic. Kieran remembers having his eyes gouged out: passing out because of the pain only to wake up to darkness. So he gets a nightlight because waking up to Kieran Duffy screaming is not good for anyone's mental health.

but arthur morgan hypochondriac queen

being that he lives with hosea, bessie, kieran, lenny and sean: none of them saw arthur get sick. sure, arthur can tell them he died of tb, but after timewarping the ravages of tb have simply been erased. he looks as healthy as chapter 2 arthur. so the fact he coughs, something as innocent as a cough, and gets a wild, terrified look in his eyes, throws all of them off

bessie just sighs because despite her best efforts and getting them all vaccinated asap and seen by a gp, the fact is viruses have evolved a lot faster than humanity in 100 years and they almost all end up with at least the common cold shortly after they timewarp. part of not leaving the house too much at first is as much about their immune system adapting as it is about learning modern era slowly.

and it's really hard to watch because as the cough worsens and a low fever takes hold, arthur is a wreck. coughs hard, pauses, only to turn pale and sprint to the bathroom before throwing up more in distress than illness. it just doesn't seem like arthur morgan, the invincible enforcer and boogeyman of the VDL gang.

hosea has seen arthur through many a cold, so he knows arthur isn't usually like this. usually it's a mission in itself to get arthur to lay down when he's sick. instead, arthur is completely fixed to the bed, shaking more violently than his temperature would suggest. his eyes squeeze shut at the mention of food, panting like the room's running out of air. confesses late into the second night of that he thinks he's dying.

hosea would've believed it if he hadn't seen sean macguire through food poisoning already. tries to assure him he's fine, it's just a cold. he'll be over it in a few days. it has been a long time since he's seen arthur this - needy. he really is more like that young boy he and dutch found cowering on the streets than the man he raised. which hosea doesn't entirely mind, even if it just seems dramatic

arthur proceeded to recover and act like nothing weird happened at all and he was fine the entire time. the whole gang side-eyed this response, and the side-eye suspicion next time arthur got a cold and once again became terrified - convinced he was dying.

when arthur moved out, hosea would still need to stay several nights whenever arthur got a cold because he will get trauma-justified man flu. this later becomes charles's job to take care of when he timewarps and becomes arthur's u-haul lesbian speed husband. admittedly sometimes charles has to call hosea because as someone who did see arthur get tb, he also gets upset seeing arthur sick

if you have had a cold in the past 48 hours arthur morgan will not go near you. he starts his morning with every immunity-boosting over the counter pill he can find and always starts the morning with a disgusting glass of homemade orange ginger turmeric juice he swears by.

[uncloseted]

I adore your account about Cassie but i genuinely hate effy.. she is the least likable charcater in the show, i mean yeah her mental disorder affects how she acts but couldnt they make her more likable? All of the charcaters in the show had problems but they were still more likable than she is, if for example her depression was caused by seeing tony getting hit by a bus, freddie's mother killed herself but he was still a caring sweet person unlike her and a lot of charcaters has been through worse than her but she acts like shes the only person w troubles lmao, divorce is sooo common that it doesnt even give the person an excuse to be asshole, she literally held hands with freddie in class and kissed him then goes at the end of the episode and fuck his best friend, she didnt deserve him any bit.

she also goes on and hits katie with a rock out of self defense but then doesnt tell anything to anyone and goes to fuck freddie and leaves her there? Come on now. she somehow feels like a side character even though most charcaters in the show like her because her personality is so hollow and boring and incredibly flawed more than everyone in gen 2.

yeah kaya is gorgeous and effys style is amazing, but i feel like thats the only thing likable the charcater has, i think if she was bad looking no one would even like her even Freddie or cook, because thats the reason they all liked her from the beginning isnt it? Just her looks. And anyways why the hell she only befriends girls that guys arent usually into like panda and the girl in gen 1? Is it some thing to make her feel better about herself and not feel threatened? , because she was clearly not interested in any of them

Im so sorry for talking a lot, i genuinely love your account and your opinions though! And im interested to hear your opinion about this

No worries at all! I love when people write a lot. I don't think you're alone in finding Effy annoying, which is fine. But I think the fact that she isn't always likeable is one of the reasons why the way they portray her mental illness is so realistic. Mental illnesses are illnesses. By definition, they impact people's lives in a negative way and cause them to make decisions that they wouldn't make if they were healthy.

And Effy is no different. If you were living with the delusion that falling in love would cause otherworldly demons to break through from the other side and come torture you, you'd probably do whatever you can to push the person you're in love with away, too, you know? And with the Katie/rock situation, I think Effy doesn't totally remember or understand what happened until they can't find Katie the next day - either as a result of having been on drugs or (and this is what I believe) as a result of being in the middle of a psychotic episode. Once she realizes what happens, she does call an ambulance to find and treat Katie. Does it suck to do those things to another person? Of course. She could have killed Katie, and that's very real and very serious. But Effy can only act within the context of what she believes to be true, and her beliefs about the world are heavily influenced by her mental illness. A lot of the time, she's not really in a headspace where she can make decisions that are coherent to the outside world. And that means that she's coming from a very different place than someone like Tony, who does awful things to other people on purpose just to see what he can get away with. I've always seen her as someone who desperately needs help, and the tragedy of her storyline is that none of the people around her can provide her with the help that she needs.

I also want to talk for a second about mental illness. You said that, "all of the charcaters in the show had problems but they were still more likable than she is", but that's not really how mental illness works. While mental illness can, and often is, triggered by trauma, people with no history of trauma can also be severely mentally ill, and people with a history of trauma can be totally fine from a mental health perspective. For Effy, it seems like she was just kind of born that way. This is someone who stopped talking around the age of six and didn't start again until she was fifteen. That's hardly a person who's mentally stable, even before you account for Tony getting hit by a bus right in front of her, her mother developing depression and a pill addiction, essentially taking care of both her mother and Tony through their recovery processes, her parents having a messy divorce, and essentially being abandoned by both of them when she needs them most.

In terms of why people like her, I actually don't think it's just her looks. I think for Cook, that's maybe why he was interested in her to begin with, but for Freddie, I think he's more interested in the fact that she was willing to go up to a random stranger and lick ketchup off their face before walking away. I think Freddie means it when he says he wants to "get to know" her. To Freddie, Effy is exciting and different and kind of confusing, and he's just curious about who she is and why she acts the way that she does. And for Cook, while he starts out as being interested in Effy because of how she looks, I think he continues being interested because he idealizes Effy as this beautiful girl who will be his partner in crime and let him keep avoiding his problems. He sees her as someone who’s like him and who understands what he’s going through. And then for other people, I think they like her because she's mysterious and they want to figure her out, because her attention makes them feel special (since she doesn't often pay attention to other people) or her lack of attention makes them want to impress her, because she seems like she knows everything about them even though they know nothing about her, and just in general because she has a reputation for being fun. A person's looks can only get them so far, but their personality is why people stick around. I think a good example of that is Mini in the 3rd generation. She's absolutely beautiful, but she has a lot of trouble maintaining friendships and romantic relationships because her personality is hard to be around.

And then in terms of friends, I don't think she really chose to be friends with Julie (the girl from series 1) or with Pandora. Both of them just kind of decided they were going to be her friend and Effy didn't do anything to get rid of them. So I don't think it's Effy intentionally "[befriending] girls that guys arent usually into" or that it's "some thing to make her feel better about herself and not feel threatened", but rather that girls who are a little odd and maybe don't understand social cues are the only ones who will keep trying to hang out with her even though she's clearly not interested. And for what it's worth, I do think she loves Pandora very much, even if she's not always the best friend to Pandora. I think Effy feels like she can trust that Pandora isn't going to stop wanting to be her friend, no matter what happens, and that she really values Pandora's optimism and excitement for the world, since it's something that Effy doesn't naturally feel. Pandora is really important to her, which is why she's so hurt when Pandora sleeps with Cook, even though she doesn't actually care about Cook himself.

Like I said at the beginning, I don't think you have to like Effy, and I know a lot of people don't. But I think she's more complicated than people make her out to be and that she's not annoying for the sake of being annoying.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

All For One

Musketeers Comfort Imagine

Words: 3525

Summary: In preparing for her trials to become a Musketeer, the reader’s anxiety begins to get the better of her. Luckily, she has the four best friends anyone could ask for. 

Notes: Another comfort imagine dealing with anxiety and burnout because *mental illness* I needed this haha. Thank you end of the semester struggles. Like my Pogues imagine, this doesn’t have any specific ships, but since Aramis and D’Artagnan are my favorites, I may or may not show a little bias. I also really wanted to capture the feeling of them riding off together at the end of the season because that’s one of my favorite parts of the show, so hopefully that came across. 

Find more Musketeers: HERE

-

They all knew something was off. Though it was early and most were still half asleep, exhausted by the night before’s activities, they saw with enough clarity to know that you were not yourself. 

You ate your breakfast swiftly- though, poking at your bread could hardly be considered eating- and in silence. You hardly responded to Aramis’s daily teasing, something that had become like a ritual for the two of you, or to Porthos’s suggestion of close combat training later in the day. Worst of all, your eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, though you kept them downcast to try and hide them. 

Once you’d hurried off, the four men at the table exchanged worried looks. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Porthos asked. 

“Nerves maybe,” D’Artagnan observed. “She’s going before Treville next week. I know I was terrified when it was my turn to prove myself.” 

“And especially difficult for her,” Aramis added. He gazed after you and shook his head. “But there’s something else. I don’t think it’s just nerves.” The way you’d looked at him just moments before, with eyes both pleading and yet… empty. It worried him. “We should do something.” 

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Athos said. He stood from the table and put on his hat. “We should let her come to us. If we try to force her, well-” he blew out a breath. “We all know how that’s gone in the past.” 

The other three nodded mournfully. 

It was odd. You were one of the more open of the group, but all of them could agree, when something was truly and deeply wrong, you always tried to keep it to yourself, though none could understand why. 

“We can’t just leave her like that,” D’Artagnan said. “There must be something we can do.”

“Just be patient,” Athos nodded. “She knows we’re here for her.” 

Does she? Aramis couldn’t help but think. While they’d made it clear that you were a part of their group and they all cared for you very deeply, he’d picked up hints that you didn’t quite believe it. Whether or not this was just your mind playing tricks on you, he was determined to show it to you. He turned to the others and a wordless understanding passed between them. They nodded, all feeling the same as he did. 

They’d make sure you knew you were one of them, even if they spent all day proving it. 

-

You started the day with close combat, asking Porthos to help as usual, since he was the very best. You hoped the physicalness of the exercise would help wake up your tired senses and give your on-edge body something to fight. Your limbs pleaded for a distraction from their tension while your head desperately tried to focus. 

How could you be so exhausted and so unstable at the same time? 

“You sure you’re ready?” Porthos asked. When he’d agreed to train, he hadn’t noticed just how tense you were. You paced in front of him like a street cat afraid of its own shadow. While he never used the full of his strength when sparring with you, he feared more than usual he might hurt you if this were to go on. 

“I’m always ready,” you said with a little more venom than you’d intended. He narrowed his eyes and you ignored the concern you could see in his gaze. “I don’t have all day, let us begin.” You ran at him before he could object. 

Porthos braced for your first hit- a punch toward his shoulder and counter-attacked with a swing at your legs. You jumped and kicked his knee while propelling yourself upward for another hit to his chest, launching away from the impact. You both fell back into the dirt but were on your feet in seconds. 

Porthos raised a brow. “Alright, love. That’s how we’re playing it.” 

You took a deep breath and went again. 

The fight was fiercer than you’d ever done before. Porthos seemed to struggle to keep up with you. He may have his strength, but your agility proved vital. At one point, you were able to climb onto his back, arm around his neck. Your body locked up and all you could focus on was the pounding of adrenaline in your head. 

“Y/N!” Athos shouted. 

The other three rushed over to the two of you and you suddenly realized that Porthos had hit his knees and was smacking at your legs to let him go. You gasped and jumped off of him. 

“Porthos, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t even realize- are you hurt?” You stammered. 

He coughed, breathing in with deep, hurried breaths to take in as much air as he could. Aramis knelt in front of him, dark eyes flicking over to you with more questions than you gave him time to ask. 

You brushed off and tried to hide the rising panic in your voice as it squeezed at your chest. “Guess I got carried away, huh?” 

“Only a little,” Porthos wheezed. 

You feigned a smile, turning to Athos. “I’ll go easier on you later, I promise.” It was meant to be a jest, but neither of you laughed. 

With your body locking up again, you got away before any of them could see the weakness threatening to overtake you. Once out of view, your fist flew, striking the wall and scraping your knuckles. 

“I wouldn’t give her a weapon,” Porthos shuddered as Aramis helped him to his feet. 

“She doesn’t seem like she’s going to take no for an answer,” Athos said. 

Aramis sighed. “This is worse than I thought.” 

“I’ll say,” Porthos grunted. 

“She needs to get out of here.” D’Artagnan stared after you with a pained expression. “All of this practice is getting to her. She’s pushed herself too far.” He swung his sword in front of him in frustration. “But how do we get her to take a break? She’s far too stubborn and worried about Treville.”

The four of them pondered this problem for a moment, eventually hearing you start up again, practicing with your sword with barely a minute’s rest. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Aramis sighed. “The three of you come up with something.” 

“And how do you propose we do that?” Athos asked. 

Aramis shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

-

You loaded the musket with relative ease, but he could see how your hands were shaking. Of all of the skills you had to master before facing Treville’s scrutiny, your marksmanship was by far your weakest, despite Aramis assuring you otherwise. Why else would he have suggested you practice it now, rather than after your duel with D’Artagnan and Athos? He didn’t believe you were good enough, you could feel it. 

“Take a deep breath and relax your body just like I showed you,” he instructed. 

“I know, I know,” you said. 

Aramis stood behind you as you aimed at an empty wine bottle at the other end of the field. He wasn’t used to you being so closed off to him. In truth, he’d brought you out here with the hope of helping you clear your head, but he seemed to only have made it worse. At least this way, you weren’t directly aiming a weapon at anyone. Given what happened with you and Porthos, he doubted giving you a sword would end well for anyone. 

“Alright, ready?” He stepped just enough into your line of vision. 

You ignored him and took the shot. 

The bottle remained standing, mocking you from afar. 

“Damn,” you muttered, already loading the musket again before he could say anything. 

“Y/N, perhaps-”

“I can get it.” You took aim and fired. A tree trunk several yards from the bottle splintered from the impact. A frustrated growl tore through your chest. What was wrong with you? 

You forcefully set the musket back down, readying to load it for another try. Aramis’s hand covered yours before you could. 

“Y/N, wait,” he said softly. “I think I know what’s happening.” 

“What’s happening is that I’m not ready,” you snapped, more at yourself than at him. “And I only have a few more days to get it right or else I’ll never be a musketeer and all of this would be for nothing and-” Your words caught in your throat even before he held up a hand to stop you. 

Aramis laid his hand on your cheek. 

“You’ve worked yourself to the bone for weeks, darling.” He gave you a small smile. “You’re so exhausted you can hardly see straight. Am I correct?” 

There was still a part of you that wanted to fight him. To deny everything he’d said. Tired meant weakness and you couldn’t bear it if any of them saw you that way. But with his dark, caring eyes looking into yours, there was nothing you could say. 

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling. 

He pulled you into his arms. 

“There,” he sighed, running a soothing hand up and down your spine. “It’s alright. You’re just working too hard, that’s all. It’s alright.” He pulled back, kissed your forehead, and looked down at you. “Better?” 

You shrugged, wiping away tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Maybe you’re right.” 

He smirked. “I’m always right, darling.” 

With an arm slung around your shoulders, he led you back to the courtyard of the garrison where your other three friends stood next to their horses. Aramis and your horses had been saddled and awaited their riders. 

“What’s this?” You asked, Aramis handing your musket off to one of the stableboys to put away. 

“You are leaving,” D’Artagnan grinned. “Well, all of us are leaving, of course. We’ve all decided that we could all use a break from Paris. You, especially, Y/N.” 

“I can’t leave,” you scoffed. “There’s so much to do still! I need to stay and practice and…” You trailed off, as Aramis gave your hand a gentle tug toward the others. 

“Paris will still be here tomorrow,” Athos said. He watched you with a raised brow. “As will Treville and all of your training. One of the things you need to learn about being a soldier is knowing your limits, Y/N. You cannot help anyone if you can no longer help yourself. Besides-” He held up a bulging saddlebag which clinked as it moved. “I already bought the wine.” 

“I for one think it’s a magnificent idea,” Aramis beamed. “I’m jealous I hadn’t thought of it before. We could all use a day away, don’t you think, Y/N?” 

You took a deep breath. There was so much left to be done. You still needed to perfect your marksmanship, ready your fencing strategy, and work on hand-to-hand without strangling your sparring partner this time. The pressure of it all lingered in your chest as you gazed at the four wonderful men who’d helped you this far. 

But they were right. How could you possibly hope to achieve your goals if you overworked your body to the point of disaster? 

“Alright, I’ll go.” 

All four erupted in cheers. Porthos even lifted you up, tossed you over his shoulder, and spun around, eliciting a squealing laugh from your lips. When he set you down again, he kissed your cheek and gave you the biggest smile you’d ever seen. 

��It’s been far too long since I’ve heard that sound,” he said. 

The others all grinned in agreement and your group of five mounted your horses. You looked back at the garrison as the city passed by and spotted the field where you'd been practicing with the musket. The mocking bottle remained in its spot, untouched. 

Aramis followed your gaze and chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it,” he nodded. “Just not today.” Aramis reached over and put a hand on your shoulder. “And that’s perfectly fine.”

You nodded in return and urged your horse forward, away from Paris and your responsibilities and your anxieties. You let them fall away with the pounding of hooves against the road and the laughter of your friends in the air. 

-

The sweet summer air filled your lungs, banishing the lingering scent of the city. Wildflowers lined the path, the soft earth shifting under your feet as you leaned down into a starting position. 

“I thought the whole point of this was to get away from training,” D’Artagnan teased, taking the same stance beside you. Aramis stood in between, arms raised for the signal. 

“Ready?” He glanced excitedly at both of you. “Set.”

“This isn’t training, D’Artagnan,” you laughed. “This is fun!” 

“Go!” 

You flew down the path, your legs sprinting as fast as they could carry you while D’Artagnan raced next to you. He started in the lead, but as you neared the tree at the end of the lane- your predetermined finish line- you began to gain on him. Your hair whipped around your face but you kept your eyes open and focused on that tree. 

The three cheered both of you on, all favoring you for the victory. Their hollering only increased when you finally surpassed your opponent, keeping just a step ahead of him all the way to the end. 

When you turned to gloat in your victory, however, you failed to see one of the tree’s roots stretched out in front of you. Your foot caught and, in your attempt to save yourself, your hand latched onto your competitor’s arm and dragged him down with you. 

D’Artagnan tumbled, the two of you rolling down the small hill behind the tree. Grass and flower petals broke your fall and burst up into the air as you landed with you on top and D’Artagnan sprawled out beneath you, both of your cackling filling the air.

“I’m-” You snorted. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Your words were hardly understandable between your snickers. 

“I’m fine, are you?” His heaving laughs lifted your head which laid on his chest. You peered up at him, taking in his sparkling eyes and bright smile. You couldn’t help but feel all of your worries from before fade away. 

After a moment, the other three appeared over you, looking down and shaking their heads. 

“I would say Y/N is the winner, but seeing as she’s also the one that caused this unfortunate spell…” Porthos started. He helped you up with a smirk and you playfully punched his arm. 

“I agree with Porthos,” D’Artagnan said, brushing himself off. 

“Clumsy or not, I’m still faster,” you fired back. 

“Perhaps a rematch is in order.” 

“You should know by now, D’Artagnan.” You stepped toward him so that you were only inches apart. “I never back down from a challenge.” 

Aramis put a hand in between you two. “Alright, I think that’s quite enough competition for the day.” His deep laugh brought more warmth to your chest. “We should make camp soon anyway before the sun sets.” 

You pointed a finger at the youngest musketeer and smirked. “This isn’t over.” 

He bowed dramatically. “I look forward to it.” D’Artagnan hurried ahead to start the fire, his laughter still ringing through the air, and you strolled alongside the other three. 

Aramis removed a leaf from your hair and tucked the strand behind your ear. He held up a hand to his ear. 

“Listen,” he said. “Do you hear that?” 

“I hear nothing,” you shrugged. 

“Exactly.” He breathed in deeply with a content smile. “Isn’t it wonderful?” 

You scoffed. “Aramis, I give us all two days before we’re begging to get back to the noise and excitement of Paris.” You poked a finger at his chest. “You especially.” 

He opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn’t. Instead, he chuckled and held out his arm. 

“Fair enough. But it is a break well deserved nonetheless.” 

You beamed, taking his arm. “That it is.” 

You all sat around the fire, eating rabbit that Aramis had shot earlier and Porthos roasted over the flames with a bottle of wine for each of you. D’Artagnan and Aramis sat across from you while you and Porthos spent dinner discussing your technique in sparring earlier in the day. 

“I am sorry again,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “I hope I didn’t injure you too badly.”

“Just his pride!” Aramis chimed from across the fire. 

Porthos tossed a pebble at his head. 

This, of course, prompted a small battle between the three of them, picking up various projectiles from the forest floor and trying to hit each other. In the midst of their antics, you saw Athos from his place leaning against a far tree. He motioned for you to follow him. 

Having always been a little frightened of the leader of the group, you gulped, believing to be in some kind of trouble with him. Athos’s intensity was known throughout the musketeers, along with his skill with a sword and leadership. 

He led you in a perimeter around the small camp you’d made without saying anything at first, which of course only increased your returning anxiety. 

“I know you believe that you don’t belong here,” he finally said. His words were so blunt, you didn’t know how to respond and he continued. “I wanted to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, which I know isn’t very helpful given how you’re feeling.” 

“Unfortunately, it isn’t,” you sighed. “Though I appreciate your encouragement.”

“It isn’t merely encouragement, Y/N.” He stopped walking to look at you with that same intensity. “I believe it. I’ve never seen someone work with as much passion as you do. With as much tenacity and willingness to learn. Half of the men in the musketeers think they already know everything about the world, but you-” An impressed laugh made his blue eyes shine. “You have done more to learn and to improve than anyone I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder you’ve exhausted yourself so much. It’s remarkable it hasn’t happened sooner.” 

You opened your mouth to rebuke his claims, to deny your skills and deprecate the work you’d done, but he put a hand on your shoulder that silenced you. 

“I would be honored to serve alongside you.” 

“Athos I-” You blinked back tears. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Just promise me you won’t end our practices the way you ended with Porthos and I’ll be content with that,” he teased. “Let’s get back before they cause any trouble, hm?” 

As the two of you returned to the group, you felt so overwhelmed by the feelings stirring in your chest. But this wasn’t from anxiety or overworking yourself. You were just so grateful, gazing over the crowd of your four closest friends, that you couldn’t contain it. It spilled out onto your cheeks with joyous tears. 

Aramis noticed you first and his face immediately morphed with concern. 

“What have you done, Athos?” He leaped to his feet, soon joined by the other three as they scrambled to your side. “What’s the matter, Y/N, my dear?” 

“Nothing,” you laughed through your crying. “Athos has been nothing but kind, I promise. I just…” You took a deep breath. In one hand, you took Aramis’s, intertwining your fingers, and with your other, you took Athos’s. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.” 

“You would do the same for any of us,” D’Artagnan said. “It’s the least we can do after all of the work you’ve put in.”

“Work that has not been ignored by Treville,” Athos added. “I believe he admires you even more than we do.” 

“If that’s even possible,” Aramis said with a wink. 

“Well, I can’t thank you all enough for taking care of me like this.”

Aramis glanced around the others with a mischievous twitch of his mustache. 

“All for one,” he said, twirling you around so that you landed in Porthos’s arms. 

“And one for all,” Porthos finished, lowering you into a dip. 

“You are all imbeciles. Now let me go,” you squealed merrily as they spun you around again. By the time you’d danced with all four of them, you were all dizzy enough that you collapsed beside each other in a heap of laughter.

My musketeers. You couldn’t help but think with your head on Aramis’s shoulder and your legs stretched out over D’Artagnan’s. You remembered why you were so adamant to join the regiment in the first place. To be one of them. You knew now that, no matter what happened in the coming weeks, you always would be. 

The stars twinkled over your heads as the fire died down. You let out a sigh and felt content. 

“I love you all,” you whispered into the night. “Even if you are idiots.” 

Aramis chuckled beneath you. “And we you.” He kissed the top of your head. 

D’Artagnan poked at your calf. “Even if you are stubborn.” 

“Some of us are trying to sleep,” Porthos whined, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You settled again and heard Athos sit up. He placed his cloak over you as a blanket. 

“Rest well, Y/N.” 

And you did.

[world-cinema-research]

A woman Under the Influence - Blog

By Aiden McKinney

A Woman Under the Influence (1974)

A Woman Under the Influence is an inside look at a working class family consisting of Nick, a Municipal construction worker, Mabel a housewife and their three children. Nick is loud and abrasive and believes in traditional expectations of Mabel to be the submissive housewife, always ready to entertain his friends and behave quietly and politely. Mabel is exhausted from the expectations placed on her by Nick, and society as a whole. She is extremely uneasy when in public or with large groups of people. She’s not able to say what she truly wants to say and she begins to exhibit behaviors of mental illness that frustrates Nick and confuses others. Mabel knows something is wrong, but she and Nick continue to say that she is “just tired,” and needs to rest. At times, it almost seemed like Mabel was acting “crazy” on purpose because she knew it made others uncomfortable and they would want to leave. 

The performances in the movie were amazing. Gena Rowlands was nominated for Best Actress at the 1975 Academy Awards. Her interpretation of a woman with mental illness has to be applauded, as this was still a time when mental illness was stigmatized and not really talked about. Rowland portrays mental illness with random verbal outbursts, raspberries and hand gestures. She explained how she embodied Mabel; “All I know is that this woman couldn’t speak, she couldn’t express herself. And when you can’t speak, when you’re playing that kind of part and becoming involved in it, then things will start happening with your body. The human spirit will not take it silently. If you cannot express something verbally, it will come out in some way, and in her it came out in bizarre physical gestures. But I didn’t plan it.” – Gena Rowlands on Mabel’s wordlessness and unforgettable gestures in “Woman”: raspberries, and strike-out hand-gestures, and eye-rolls, etc. Peter Falk is equally convincing as an agitated partner who feels helpless and doesn’t always make the right decisions regarding Mabel and his children. His level of stability is questionable as well, and I often asked myself, “who is making who crazy in this relationship?”

The writer/director of A Woman Under the Influence is John Cassevetes, who has been regarded as “as one of the most daring and influential filmmakers of the 20th Century, attributed by many as the artist who shaped the current definition of independent film” Rotten Tomatoes Cassevetes was also known to defy the status quo when it came to Hollywood rules. For example, typically movies are not filmed in scene order. Scenes are shot sporadically, depending on location availability. For instance, in the case of Bohemian Rhapsody, the last scene of the film could be the very first scene shot. A Woman Under the Influence was shot in chronological order. Rowlands explained that shooting in order allowed them to live through the film, it felt more natural for them to tell the story. Peter Falk & Gena Rowlands

Roger Ebert’s admirable review notes on Cassevete’s greatest strength as a filmmaker, “at creating specific characters and then sticking with them through long, painful, uncompromising scenes until we know them well enough to read them, to predict what they’ll do next and even to begin to understand why.”  Roger Ebert review 1974 The question arises, just how is the subject of mental illness addressed in 1974 as it is present day? Even Ebert recognized that gender roles may have influenced a diagnosis and course of treatment back then. “A Woman Under the Influence” gets to be terribly complicated, involved and fascinating -- a revelation. Because if Mabel is disturbed, then so is he. He’s as crazy as she is, maybe more so. But because he’s a man and has channels for his craziness, he stays at home and she gets sent away.” Roger Ebert review 1974 

Even though Mabel struggles with communicating, especially around other people, when she does speak, she offers insight into how she is suffering. In one scene, after picking up her three children from the school bus, she playfully runs home with them and tells them, “I hope that you will never grow up.” Mabel doesn’t feel comfortable as a grown up. She feels terribly incompetent as a parent and has many childlike qualities, herself. 

Youtube.com Dying Swan from A Woman Under the Influence

This scene is an impromptu party Mabel planned with the neighbor children. Mabel is childlike, inappropriate and very uncomfortable with the other parent present.

“Dad, will you stand up for me?” Mabel is overwhelmed at a dinner party and just wants to be heard. No one will listen, and even her father doesn’t understand what she needs. 

Youtube.com Dad, will you stand up for me?

Richard Nixon resigns as a result of the Watergate scandal.

NYTimes Nixon resigns

Muhammed Ali defeated George Foreman in the eighth round to reclaim the Heavyweight Title.

 Rumble in the Jungle 1974 

[cinamun]

You’re such an amazing writer Cin! Happy Mother’s Day by the way! I don’t see how people aren’t able to empathize in this situation. “Oh he’s grown, he knew what he was doing” no. Childhood trauma is real. Elliot was a child, even though he was 18, he still had a child’s mindset. As parents, we are our children’s first role models/heroes. He never got that, never had someone to look up to, never had that unconditional, unwavering love that parents are supposed to have for their children. It’s HARD to lose someone you’ve know from childhood to adults. From best friends to first loves, to just friends again, on the outside looking in, that’s HARD to accept and heal from as well. Life in general is HARD period. Besides Hani, he didn’t have anyone in his corner, and he didn’t truly want her.. unfortunately to him, she was just something to do and pass time. When you’re depressed, you’re just going through the motions, you need a lot of support, you need positivity around you, but you also have to want those things and be better, and he didn’t. Hope and her family were the only light he had in this world and attachments are real. Hope was his safe place, and after losing her he never recovered. He was repressing his feelings all those years. As people of color, most don’t believe in depression and mental illness or counseling. We believe that we can handle it on our own. Of course I don’t agree with his actions at all, mental health is so important. I am Hope, like I know what he did, but is he okay? I know what he did, but that’s my friend .. I know him to the core and I know he’s not in his right mind, just make sure he’s okay. I’m just so hurt for her and everyone in this situation, but especially Hope 💔

Is Sean to blame for Elliot’s upbringing? Yes he is .. but idk Sean’s upbringing .. he may not have received that love himself from his own mother/father and is repeating a generational cycle, raising Elliot the best way he knew how, idk 🤷🏾‍♀️ Yes both Indya and Darren overcame how they were brought up, but they’re still scarred, and everyone is different. Everyone is not that strong. But he does deserve empathy because no one should have to bury their child, no parent should leave before their child, EVER 💔

Ouch, right in the feels! And such a touching summary of your thoughts on this very sad turn of events. Thank you for your kind words and let's all just take deep breaths and big gulps of water while we ride out this storm ❤

[maplecornia]

chapter 56

infinite stars masterlist | BTS masterlist | masterlist | playlist

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.65K

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: bts x female!reader

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: they cannot steal my future, that alone belongs to me

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language | mentions of rape | childhood trauma | multiple forms of abuse | mentions of blood and injuries | toxic relationships | mentions of alcohol and drugs

taglist [OPEN]: @jaeyunverse | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear (not taggable) | @mangminnie | @plxlekoo (not taggable) | @cana | @eridanuswave | @missseoulite | @kodzuskook | @bingyuu (not taggable) | @soobmint | @hyunjxnxee | @gongiz | @uno7 | @yesv01 | @myork

Something bothers him.

Jocelynn can tell.

As she looks over at him, she notes the way he walks, the way he's constantly fidgeting, the incapability to look her in the eye. It's all too familiar, all too unlike him, and suggests that he has something else on his mind. Something that is keeping him far away from her.

“You’re strangely quiet today.”

When he flinches, her concern only grows.

“Hm? No, I’m just…” When he chuckles nervously, fumbling for some excuse for his behavior, it only confirms her suspicions and she sighs inwardly before looking away.

She wonders if it's best to even press for further answers. When Yen would act this way, she could never find the words within her to explain her feelings, much less inform them to her mother. Perhaps that is the same with Jimin, and even if it is not, it's easier for Jocelynn to believe rather than the alternative. She's put so much trust in their bond, so much so that hope has begun to grow and she doesn't want anything to dampen that. Break it before it's had a chance to see the sun.

And as she spies a vendor a couple of ways down the pathway selling pawn toys and a plethora of kites, she realizes that all she wants today is to enjoy her time with him. Even if the feeling of dread continues to grow, she wants to forget it, if only for a little while.

Jimin watches, pausing on the cobblestoned walkway as she rushes over to the vendor, quickly purchasing a kite. And while he smiles as she returns to him, it is a pained one. For the butterflies attacking his ribcage no longer bring the rush of adrenaline and giddy happiness. They have become dull and melancholy, ringing a dead tuneless song whereas before they would echo his world in birdsong.

And though her presence deepens that indescribable pain, there the color comes back, the world turning brighter, luminescent as she decorates his skies with sunshine and brilliant starlight, as she nears his side once more, a gorgeous grin breaking out on her face and turning into a different form of beauty but beauty nonetheless.

“It’s been a while since I’ve used this, I wonder if I can still remember.” She informs him as she begins to struggle with unwinding the string around the handle of the kite. Jimin knows he's already fallen too deep, and he knows that this may be a mistake, but he also knows he cannot leave without one more day.

One more day by her side, one more day to let go.

Rolling his eyes after it's clear of her hopelessness, Jimin takes the spool out of her hands and begins to unwrap it for her instead.

“And here I thought you could do anything.” He teases her and Jocelynn doesn't even care that he took a dig at her. For her heart is already flourishing with the sight of a small smile on her face. And what was bothering him before does not matter as much as that smile she sees, at this moment.

And so she returns it, before pushing him playfully and reaching for the newly unwrapping spool. But he pulls it away from her before she can even brush her fingertips against the thread. Raising an eyebrow his way as he begins to jog away from her, she steps after him, reaching for the spool and countless times being evaded.

"Jimin." Jimin can't help but laugh at the stern tone, evading her reach once more as he dances around her.

"What was that? Your 'mom voice'?" Stepping close to her ear he whispers into it, his breath causing shivers to run their tiny tendrils down her spine. "What am I a child?"

Trying her best to ignore the euphoric feeling that erupts deep inside her stomach, she rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disapproval before turning to him and raising her eyebrows.

"You might as well be."

And this time, she almost wraps her fingers around the spool, but just as soon as a finger rests atop it, Jimin pulls away and begins to run, the kite rising higher and higher into the air with each step. She watches him for a moment, somehow seeing him so exuberant and carefree for the first time since she's known him, touching her heart and stirring a fire deep within her soul.

And when she chases after him, it dawns on her that she is no longer chasing after a dream, for he is here, this is her reality.

And in some way, that is the most beautiful fact of all.

Throughout the rest of the day, they are lost in that reality. A reality in which Jimin is simply Jimin, where Jocelynn is simply Jocelynn. Where no one knows them, they have nothing holding them back, they are just happy in being with the other.

And in a sense, that simplicity, that normalcy is something that we often forget to enjoy.

The ability to visit an arcade and win a plushie for the person you care about, the childish and yet touching way they name it after you. "Min-Min", a nickname by which you express your incredible dislike but they know sends the same ecstatic feeling throughout your body as it does theirs. A feeling that stays with you as you wipe tteokbokki sauce from their cheek with the face of your thumb, as you witness the surprised blush that overtakes their cheeks and the smile that spreads on your face at the sight of it.

The same emotion persists in the moments where you know this is only temporary, that soon you'll disappear and they'll be left alone without so much as a reason why. Because you cannot bear to say goodbye, because you know this goodbye would be forever, and you don't want to lose them, not forever. So you pause by another vendor, and when they aren't looking, you ask for a matching set, one that completes the other. So that even when you have to let go, there will be even the slightest chance that they'll hold on.

Because all you need is that chance.

All he needs is that chance.

And all these things, everything the two of them have experienced today, they are events of a fairy tale to him. Simple romantic activities, all to get close to the person of his admiration. Little teenage dreams of how his first relationship would go. How he would look at her and see no one else, and the feelings he would get in his stomach, the way his heart would hurt just being near her. A yearning to be near her always. A wish he would make on every star, every altar, every charm; that one day he would find someone who would love him and stay beside him always. And now he has gotten his wish, he has accomplished his one goal.

So why should he say goodbye? Why does he have to let go of the one person he wanted? Why does his world have to be torn apart because they cannot stand to see him love?

So when he takes her by the hand, the sky growing dark around the two of them, the stars reflecting in the deep pools of her eyes; the emptiness of his heart is just searching for her to hold it, fill it up again, and let him know that it will be alright.

But when she turns to him, he finds he is unable, just like the first time the two of them met, to have her bear the weight of his insecurities. That he cannot bear to watch her fall just to ease his selfishness.

But his desire refuses to be appeased, and so he asks for more time.

“Will you stay with me a bit longer? There’s someplace I want to show you.”

A little more time, please just give me a bit more time.

As she follows him up a rocky pathway to a hill, she can feel her dread growing in her stomach. She knows that something is wrong, that he's holding back from something, and above all she is afraid. Somewhere in her heart, she wishes he continues to hold back because she is unsure of whether or not she'll be able to handle it. She just let him in, she finally allowed a chance for them to grow, and she doesn't want it to end.

Is it such a bad thing to wish to pretend, if only for a little while?

And when she sees the picnic he prepared for them, the candles lit around the blanket and the flowers blooming from their delicately placed vases around the basket, she can tell that she was right.

And against her will, the panic grows in her throat, closing up her throat and tightening her heart to a point where she is unable to breathe, a sense of loss overtaking her from the inside out.

"Jimin..."

"I know." But he doesn't know, and Jocelynn can tell. He doesn't know her fear, he doesn't know the conflict in her heart, the way she wishes things could stay the same. That he won't let her go. "But, I had to do this, at least once you know?"

And he leaves her side, leaving her behind, and her panic only grows, tears brimming in her eyes, refusing to move to give in to the goodbye, refusing to let go.

"What's going on?" her voice is shaky and unsure, and she wonders if he notices. If that concern on his face is because he's worried about her. If he would care if he left her in shambles after fighting so hard to find a place beside her. If she made a mistake letting him in. "Are you sick? Are you hurt? Please...please just tell me if something is wrong."

He takes a step towards her, ready to comfort her, but then he remembers and he holds back. It only further breaks her heart and she takes a shaky breath, afraid of her next question, but knowing she must ask it. She has to.

So that she knows where to put her heart, and where he belongs within it.

"Why does it feel like you're saying goodbye?"

He steps towards her, placing his hands on her cheeks, and rubbing his thumbs comfortingly across her skin. When she takes a deep breath, trying to gain her composure, he leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers and smiling softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, don't worry." Pulling away, he brushes her hair back behind her ear, his fingers itching to caress her and cherish her in a way he never was. "I just wanted to spend time with you, and wasn't sure if you'd come if I asked."

Sniffling Jocelynn turns away, and Jimin's hands fall to his sides, reminding himself of the distance. The boundaries they have to keep. And yet the itch remains, an itch that can only be doused by any interactions with her.

“Why not?”

Jimin pauses at the question, and Jocelynn looks up at him.

“You promised to spend the day with me right?” Jocelynn nods and he smiles, the same sad smile that's been present through the entire day when he got lost within his mind again. She finds an inexplicable wish to wipe away that sadness, to ease him of all pain. "Then can you wait a bit longer until I answer that question?"

It takes Jocelynn a moment, but she nods, and Jimin's smile grows a little bit brighter as he runs his thumb against her skin once more before letting her go completely, and turning back to the picnic. And she hates to admit it, but for a moment, when her hands were wrapped in his warm grip, she almost forgot all of her worries, allowing herself to be lost within the comfort that is him.

“How did you do all this?” Jocelynn asks, trying to distract from her near meltdown as she peeks at the strings of lights he strung through the branches of the trees in curiosity. And luckily Jimin is also looking for a way to escape and so he chuckles playfully rolling his eyes towards her mischievously.

“Come now Jocelynn, a magician never reveals his secrets.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes at an ill-timed joke, but he sees the smile playing on her lips, and pays no mind to her otherwise hostility. She joins him on the blanket peering over at him as he watches the sun fall further and further down the horizon.

“Yen loves the sunset." Jocelynn doesn't know what it was about his expression that reminded her of her daughter, but she can't help but think about the first time her baby girl caught a glimpse of an otherwise mundane phenomenon. Her eyes, wide as saucers, almost seemed to soak in such a simplistic beauty amidst such darkness.

She was still a child, and yet a simple glance at the sunset inspired a strength Jocelynn wasn't sure she would find otherwise.

"She used to tell me when she was small that it meant the sun was dying, but that I shouldn’t be sad because the sun was dying all so that the moon could breathe. And that this moment, the last moment that we see, was the last they’d be able to hold each other." Jocelynn takes a deep breath, unaware at first of how much this analogy related to them until now.

"Before saying goodbye.”

A strange moment, when two different skies begin to collide.

Jimin wonders if their worlds are so different that they can only love each other through their sacrifice if one must die each night just so the other can be free. And if that were the case, then what gave the world the right to keep that distance between them?

“Jocelynn, would you dance with me?”

“Dance to what? The crickets?” Jimin gasps mockingly at the insinuation and Jocelynn can't help but chuckle at his dramatics.

“You dare doubt me?”

Jocelynn opens her mouth to retort, but before a sound can make its way out of her throat, music begins to play, and she gives Jimin a look. He smiles smugly before leaning close to her and raising an eyebrow of his own.

“Like I said, I can’t reveal my secrets.”

Ignoring the fact that he in fact does reveal his secrets by setting the remote he kept expertly hidden on the blanket before standing and offering Jocelynn his hand, she hesitates a moment before taking it and allowing him to pull her up, right into his arms.

Jocelyn tries to ignore the adrenaline pumping through her system at the feeling of his hand pressed firmly against the small of her back, their bodies only mere inches away from each other, as they begin to sway to the music. She loses herself for a moment, lost within him, the scene, the beauty of it all. And as she keeps her eyes locked on his, she finds the emotion too much to bear, too unreal to even believe she is worthy of.

Before he can see it though, she drops her head on his shoulder, closing the distance between them and tightening her grip on him as she holds him close. Unaware if he can feel her desperation, her need to hold on to him so that he doesn't fade away.

“This is goodbye isn’t it?”

And this time, Jimin does not answer her, he cannot find it within him to do so, for that means it'll become reality.

And he is not prepared for that.

Not yet.

When Jimin escorts her to her doorstep, she tries to ignore the empty, hollow feeling that continues to grow in her chest at each minute the day draws closer to its end, and wishes she had more time. That she could create a loop in which she would always be next to him, that she wasn't so afraid, that she could have let him in sooner so that his absence didn't leave such an unfulfilled hole as it does now.

Climbing the steps, Jocelynn pauses for a moment before her eroding door before turning back to him, hoping that he'll say something instead of looking at her with that helpless look on his face. He can't even manage a smile? Not when she needs it the most?

And when he doesn't, it is her turn to force a smile, her pain so effortlessly sealed behind a spread of her lips, a smile that cannot manage to even reach her eyes before she turns away.

And when he realizes that this is it, that he's just letting her walk away, that tomorrow he will wake up to a reality where he is no longer allowed to stay beside her, he finds that he cannot. That there is no way he can leave. He's falling too deep, he's fallen too hard, and is unable to let her go. There cannot be a promise of one more day because that is not enough, he needs more. More time, more days, more moments where it is just her and him. A lifetime would not be enough, would not compensate for the number of moments he wishes he could waste away, if only he were by her side.

And so, he ignores his fears, he ignores his orders, and he ignores the public, he ignores everything telling him this is a bad idea, that his desire is not worth the chance.

But he would rather take that chance, than a chance of never seeing her again. Because if anyone takes her away from him, if anyone hurts her because of him, they do not belong in his future.

Because she is his future.

And so he runs up those stairs, taking Jocelynn's hand in his and caressing her cheek after she turns around in the most tender care he has ever held anything, as though she were his most prized treasure, something he cannot afford to lose.

“No." Jocelynn looks up at him with those gorgeous green eyes, and as the stars turn them into a glittery abyss, he sees that future, the dream he's always had. And in her he sees everything he's ever needed, everything he cannot relinquish any longer. "I didn't want this to be our goodbye."

And with that, he closes the distance between them, pressing his lips against her in a sealing promise. That he will be hers and hers alone, that nothing is worth anything less than she is, that he treasures her and needs her as much as the moon needs the sun.

And Jocelynn, even if only for a moment, gives in. She wraps her hands around him, losing himself in him, in a dream she had long since believed she did not have a right to claim. A desire she had fought against for so long, and finally allowing her fantasy to crash into her reality and make her believe that as long as he's there everything will be okay.

But once it's over, once she sees his eyes staring into hers so fervently and overwhelming, she realizes that she has let herself dream for too long.

Her eyes widening in realization at what she has just done, she steps back, pushing him away. Holding her hand over her mouth, she looks up at him, mortified. Not that she kissed him, but that she forgot, for a moment she was unworthy of his love. Tears once more appearing in her eyes, Jimin steps forward to try and comfort her, but she pushes him away, hiding her face with a decadently placed hand.

"That...that was a mistake."

"Jocelynn..."

"No." Jocelynn quickly excuses his explanation, his apology, letting him know that it was not needed, that she does not regret it, but that she cannot move forward. She cannot allow her feelings to take over any more than she already has. "I...I can't do this."

As their kindred hearts begin to equally burn and break in two, Jocelynn is unable to look at him. She knows she will not be able to bear the look she knows is present in his eyes, the same emotions reflected in those irises that reflect her heartbreak. Her painful devastation at the knowledge that she has finally found what she needs, and yet he is not hers to keep.

"You should go."

And with that she turns away, escaping to the comfort of her home, leaving Jimin outside. He stands there for a moment, knowing that without even trying he has lost her. That they have come to the conclusion that theirs is a love made for movies, for pages of a novel, an impossible situation that would never last.

And while the emptiness may overcome their senses, beating and battering at their hearts until nothing is left, they also know it is better than the alternative. And perhaps that is the worst part of all.

The fact that they have found each other, only to let go.

As Jimin walks away, leaving her behind, two more fans stand with their phones out, and jealousy stirring within their guts.

For how could they see a heartbreaking love story when it is their desire to be her? How could they understand just what the couple before them have to go through as a cause of their immense jealousy and contempt? The only thing they are able to see is their idol finding love for something, someone else.

Someone that is not them.

And so, they take another photo, this time of Jocelynn's home address, before posting another photo.

A treasured capture of a couple's first kiss.

Now tainted beyond repair.

Chapter 57 here

note :: so i lied...i'll still be having infrequent updates JLASDJFKLF but i will be having a update out each week! so be prepared eheheh also...this chapter was a bit hard for me to write i'm ngl, my heart was hurting the entire time

[veneataur]

Whumptober 14/31

prompt: die a hero or live long enough to become a villain

fandom: Star Wars

words: 1253

tw: medical stuff, mental illness (bipolar disorder), suicide

a/n: I think I caught all of the triggers in this one. Let me know if I need to tag something. It is a darker one than the last several. Nothing is graphic in terms of the triggers. This is more of an emotional whump. The story takes place some months after The Phantom Menace. Also, the prompt is not meant to be a characterization of bipolar disorder but of Obi-Wan's feelings about his new situation.

He comes to himself in a room in the halls of healing. It’s an odd idea really because when he thinks about it he knew he was here. He remembers being brought in against his will and strapped down to a bed. Master Che told him what she was sending through the IV but it was all nonsense to him as he argued he was fine and that she was just poisoning him. It wasn’t really his finest hour.

The nurse who comes in to check on him is all business. He doesn’t recall running into her before. She asks a few questions about how he’s feeling and checks his vitals. She doesn’t release the restraints or tell him what’s going on.

“Just tell me, is he okay? Is Anakin okay?”

“Anakin is fine,” Master Windu says. Obi-Wan looks from the nurse to the door to see Masters Windu and Che. The nurse takes their arrival as her time to leave.

“What’s going on?” Obi-Wan eyes them warily.

“First, how’re you feeling,” Che asks. She checks his chart.

“Fine. I’d like out of here and to get back to Anakin.” He tries not to be too short with them but really, he’s fine and he’d like to get back to his life rather than be chained up in here.

“That’s not going to be possible,” Windu says. Obi-Wan looks at him, hoping to get a glimpse of an emotion on the man’s normally placid face.

“Why? What’s going on?” He forces himself to speak less frantically.

“How much do you remember of what happened before you got here,” Che asks. She’s stopped looking at the chart and is now giving him an annoying patient look.

Obi-Wan pauses to think about the days leading up to him being here. They’re somewhat a blur but he does remember feeling the best he has in a long time.

“I felt fantastic, like I could take on anything and win. I don’t know that I’d ever felt that before. It was like I was high on something.”

“We thought that too, but you were clear of all drugs. The only thing in your system was alcohol.”

“I vaguely remember drinking.” Obi-Wan doesn’t like the fuzziness of his memories. He doesn’t like not feeling himself, not feeling in control, balanced. He struggles to maintain his calm demeanor. He needs to satisfy their curiosity so he can be released and get back to Anakin.

“You’ll still need an official diagnosis, but I’ve spoken with the mind healers and given this incident as well as others as brought to our attention by your friends, I believe you have a mood disorder. You've probably noticed the changing of moods. Going from extreme sad to happy.  Given your grief over losing Master Jinn, I think we all missed the signs.”

⁸Obi-Wan had long stopped paying attention. He didn't really believe her.  He couldn't have a mental illness.  He was fine. 

“No. I'm perfectly fine. It's just the stress lately. Going from padawan to having a padawan in hours takes some adjustment.” He feels his irritation rising. He’s not unfamiliar with it but he's learned to let it go rather than be controlled by it. 

“You’re not,” Windu says. “But you will be. We’ll take care of you.”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure whether to be comforted or wary of the way Master Windu tells him that. He does see, however, that he has little choice in the matter.

When Obi-Wan is finally released days later and after daily visits with the mind healer, he collapses on his couch. The apartment is empty. He knew it would be but experiencing it makes it reality.

Yes, this is his new reality. Closely monitored solitude. Truly solitude as he can barely even feel his fellow Jedi. Part of his treatment as his mind healer said, was wearing a force inhibitor. The setting was adjustable. At the moment his healer felt it best to place it at the most restrictive so Obi-Wan could deal with his own emotions and not be concerned with others.

It's bullshit but refusal would see him back in his room in the halls. That’s the last place he wants to wind up in again. He’d be locked up and the few times he would get visitors they’d just nurses checking on his vitals or one of his friends giving him concerned looks and wary glances when they think he’s not looking. Seriously, did they think he became a different person because he had this mental illness? He’s still the same person he was before.

He’s not usually a drinker and he knows that he’s prohibited from alcohol, but he could use something to drown his sorrows in. He pushes himself to his feet, finding that simple movement is a struggle. It’s been like this for the last week. His healer says he’s in a depressive episode now. Honestly, Obi-Wan can’t argue with that much, but it’s not an episode, he’s not on some kind of pendulum swinging back and forth between emotional extremes. He knows what they’ve told him, but he still can’t really believe it. It’s just the stress. Once it’s gone, he’ll be better.

The cupboard where he stores his alcohol is dry. Fury building, he decides to look in a few others as a precaution because maybe he moved it, or Anakin did. But no. Its gone. He didn’t have a lot of alcohol and now he has none because those clowns think that he’ll get drunk and go have another manic episode. What do they know. He was just having a good time.

“Bastards,” Obi-Wan says. First, they take Anakin, then his Force, his freedom, and now they invade his privacy? He sinks to the floor, anger, anguish, heartache all mixing together. He pulls his legs in tight, wrapping his arms around his legs as he messily sobs into his knees.

He knows that they’re afraid of him. They’re afraid of what he might do, what he might influence others to do because of his episodes. They don’t trust him. That’s why they took Anakin away and made him break his promise. He hasn’t even been able to see the young boy. He knows Anakin was witness to some of his last episode. According to Master Windu, Anakin had been witness to more and was terrified of him.

Honestly, Obi-Wan was terrified of himself, too. What was he going to become? What did it mean when the people he trusted the most took away his student, his freedom, and the Force? He was dangerous. Poison in the system. That’s why they secluded him. It’s not for his own good but for theirs. Look at Anakin. He’d already scared the young boy so badly he didn’t want to see him.

It wasn’t fair. Anakin hadn’t deserved it. That must’ve been where Anakin got the fear that Yoda sensed in him, the danger. It was from Obi-Wan. What would he do to the next person? Anakin was lucky to have Yoda teaching him now. Obi-Wan couldn’t guarantee that of the next person to have the misfortune of meeting him.

His mind drifts for a few moments from one mindless thought to another. And then he decides. In the cupboard next to where he kept the alcohol, he has some left-over pills.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know who finds him. He doesn’t ask. But he’s back at square one and the only coherent thought is what will he become if he lets this continue.

[nebulablakemurphy]

All For You (Pt. 7)

Summary: Elliot and Jules’ baby shower attracts some unlikely guests. Companion series to Because Of You & Before You.

Warning: this is a mature series that includes mentions of drug use/overdose, mental illness, explicit language and mentions of sex.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

They knew it’d be good, the first time they were all ‘together, together.’ Healing what was broken, solidifying the bonds that have been strained for so long. Elliot’s neighbors definitely got an earful.

After that things get better.

Rue finally drags Elliot down to an NA meeting. He doesn’t know if it’ll work for him, but Rue insists they helped save her life. Turns out it’s not all bullshit. Wanting to be sober helps too. Y/N and Jules entertain themselves while they’re gone.

Whatever worries the four of them had about the logistics of all this seem silly now. The idea that this would someday end also felt impossible.

The longer they stayed there, hole up in Elliot’s apartment, the less desire anyone had to leave. Like they might all just stay crammed into one tiny bed for the rest of their lives.

———————————————————————

Y/N’s belly is growing by the day. A happy, healthy baby kicking away inside. Jules feels the first one, entirely by coincidence. Or maybe it was the sound of her voice that sent a tiny foot soaring into her palm. Jules’ smile is brighter than the sun.

The baby won’t move for Elliot, which becomes a running joke. Baby Vaughn-Collins already picked a favorite before he or she was even born. Jules and Elliot decide not to find out the sex until birth, but they all have predictions.

Y/N is thirty-four weeks along when the nursery is finally ready. She and Rue are invited over to see it. Cream colored walls, with soft gender neutral pastels, turn their former guest room into a rainforest themed oasis for their bundle of joy.

“It’s beautiful,” Rue tells them, running her finger tips over the soft sheets inside the crib.

Jules smiles, “I still can’t believe it.”

Elliot is unusually quiet. Y/N pulls him aside, into the hallway.

“Cold feet?”

“Nah. It’s just all getting real, you know? Filling out all that paperwork-”

“Did you change your mind?” Y/N asks, even though it’s too late to really change his mind.

“This was a terrible idea and I’m so sorry.”

“Elliot, what?”

“When this is over you’re gonna understand.” He runs a hand over his face. “You’re gonna be happy for me and Jules. You’re gonna think that everything is the way it’s supposed to be and all is right with the world. Your life will go on, you’ll watch them grow up with the best parents any kid could ask for.

You’ll come to their birthday parties, help with their homework, and maybe even coach their soccer team. You’ll worry when they’re sick. They’ll love you and you’ll love them. Most times it’ll make you happy-”

“Elliot stop, it’s ok.” Y/N cuts him off. “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out. Maybe sometimes I’ll be sad. Like when I leave the hospital without a baby for the first time. Or the first few weeks when I’m all swollen and in pain, I’ll probably cry myself to sleep-”

Elliot wraps her up in his arms. “Come stay with us. Or we’ll stay with you guys. Whatever is better for you and Rue and the kids, but please don’t fucking do that.”

“No, that’s part of it.” Y/N murmurs against his neck. “Part of letting go, we have to allow that separation. You have to let yourself feel it.”

“Did your therapist tell you to do that?” Elliot draws back slightly to look at her. “He’s fucking fired.”

“You can’t fire my therapist, Elliot.” Y/N laughs, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “I’m glad you did. Rather than having to find out later. Does Rue know?”

“Yeah. She’ll be with me.” Rue knows everything.

“And I don’t get the option to be with you?” That’s the rub isn’t it? She’s his once removed. Not his wife, not the mother of his children, not his anything.

“We can discuss it.” Y/N agrees. “All four of us, there are four people in this. Not just me and you.”

Elliot nods, “fine, yeah.”

“I love you and I’m glad we had this talk.” God, that feels weird. It’s good to have discussions instead of just doing things and watching them blow up in their faces. That’s part of finding a better thing.

“I just love you.”

“I know.” That’s why they fight. Why they always have and why they always will.

“I don’t want you to feel alone in this. Or like you only have Rue. You have me and Jules.”

Maybe they could all stay together…just for a little while.

———————————————————————

Y/N is thirty-nine weeks and one day pregnant at Jules and Elliot’s baby shower. The timing is slightly precarious because the date kept getting moved around. No sign of baby yet, just Braxton hicks contractions that wake Y/N from a dead sleep.

Rue’s been amazing through the whole thing, she wakes with Y/N. Rubbing her back, whispering soothing words, that she’s safe and loved. That’s she’s ok and this won’t last forever.

The baby shower is beautiful, small and intimate, at Elliot and Jules’ house. Their friends and family are very accepting of their situation. Even though not everyone fully understands it. Like Fez, for example, who’s just arriving with a giant box.

He’s been happy in his new life. Without the drugs or the dealing or…Ash. He has Lexi and their children to ground him. Keep him motivated. Somehow time marches on.

“Jules?” Someone taps Y/N on the shoulder.

“Uh, no.” Y/N smiles, turning to face them. It’s not anyone she’s seen before, but the woman reminds her of someone she knows very well. “I’m just…incubating. Jules is around here somewhere.” Y/N looks to the long white table, adorned with mint green ribbons, where Jules was just a minute ago.

“How do you know Elliot?”

“He’s my friend.” Y/N tells her, feeling Cameron tug at her hand.

“Mommy, can I have some more snacks?”

“Yeah, baby. Go ahead.” Y/N ruffles his curls before he rips back across the room.

“Is he yours?” She knows. Cameron looks just like him.

“Yes.” Y/N clears her throat, growing more uncomfortable by the second. “So, how do you know Elliot?”

“I’m his mother.”

His mother. Y/N’s heart clenches. Elliot has only seen his mother a handful of times since he went to live with this aunt and cousin. If they’re on speaking terms, he hasn’t mentioned it.

Y/N isn’t sure what to do and she can’t see Elliot among the crowd anywhere. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” It’s rude, Y/N knows it is. But this feels wrong, Elliot or Jules should be here. Not her, it isn’t her place.

“Of course.” The woman smiles softly.

Y/N dashes down the hall, and up the stairs to the second floor bathroom. She jiggles the handle only to find it locked. Come on. She needs to pee and have a breakdown. Y/N doesn’t knock, taking a seat on Elliot and Jules’ bed and pulling out her cell phone to text Rue while she waits.

‘Hiding in the bedroom. Someone’s in the bathroom and I really have to go. I might jump out the window and climb onto the top of the garage, then use the trash cans to get down, so I can leave without anyone seeing me. Do you think I’ll make it?’

Rue’s response comes a few seconds later. ‘No, I do not think your pregnant ass will make it. What happened?’

‘Elliot’s mom is here.’

‘I just ran into her and Jules’ mom.’

‘Why is she here?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t send the invites, but Jules and Elliot are M.I.A.’

Y/N sighs. ‘I’m gonna knock and see who’s in the bathroom.’

‘You prepared an escape plan without knocking?’

‘Uh, yeah. Updates to follow.’

‘At the edge of my seat.’

Y/N can feel Rue shaking her head.

Knock, knock.

“There’s a bathroom downstairs.” A voice replies from inside.

“Elliot?”

“Y/N?” The door creaks open.

Not just Elliot, but Jules. “You guys having a quickie? Elliot you know your mom’s here, right?”

“I didn’t think she’d actually show.” He admits, she never has before. “You left Rue alone with her?”

“Rue’s been warned, Fez and Lexi are down there. They’ll man the fort. She was more interested in Cameron though. Good luck explaining that.”

“Shit.”

Jules lets out a watery laugh and Y/N gets a good look at her as she steps onto the tile floor. Elliot moving to lock the door behind Y/N.

The blonde’s eyes are red and puffy, she’s been crying. Seated on the lid of toilet seat.

“Jules what happened?” Y/N closes the distance between them, crouching downs between Jules’ knees so they’re at eye level.

“My mom.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing.” Jules looks away, swiping the back of her hand over her cupid’s bow. “She was actually really nice.”

“Why are you crying?” Y/N pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Because…like,” Jules takes a deep breath, “what if I mess up?”

“With the baby?”

“Yeah? What if I mess them up? I can’t do this. Elliot can do this, I’m not ready. And he waited for so long for me to like catch up.” She looks to her husband in defeat. Clearly it’s not his first time hearing this. “But I can’t because I’m so fucked up because of what she-”

“I know what she did, Jules.” Y/N whispers. “But you are not gonna do that.”

“How do you know?”

Y/N takes Jules hand softly, placing it on her belly between them. “I know you. I know how much you want this and I know you’re scared. I know why you’re scared. Motherhood is scary, you love your baby so much. You’ll worry about them and you’ll mess up sometimes, everyone does. But you’ll keep learning and trying and you will be an amazing mom.”

“I want to be.”

“We’re in this together.” Y/N reminds her. “Me and Rue will help, whatever you need. If you’re feeling overwhelmed or tired or whatever, we’ve got you. Elliot’s got you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on with the Rue and the kids and like…healing after the baby.”

“This relationship is not a burden to me.” Y/N says, patiently. “You are not a burden, Jules. I love you so much. I love being with you. I love spending time with you. You make me so happy.”

“No,” Jules argues, “I love you. You make me happy.”

“Are you really gonna argue about a mutual feeling?” Elliot chimes in.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I felt it first.”

“I felt it stronger though.”

“Unfuckingbelievable.” Elliot chuckles.

Y/N used to feel bad for him, being surrounded by all of them, all of the time. She doesn’t anymore, he clearly enjoys it.

“Be with me after.” Jules says, kissing Y/N’s hands and then her belly.

It’s still under review, what would happen when the baby came. If they were all staying together, it would have to be at Y/N and Rue’s house.

Jules and Elliot would bring over the bassinet and set up shop. They would bond with their baby and Y/N and Rue would keep their schedules. Sawyer and Cameron would have a blast with everyone under one roof. Y/N would have support if and when she needed it. They would all have extra support and the pitch did come with a lot of perks.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks anyway.

“Be with me, please?” Jules whispers.

Y/N takes a deep breath, “ok.” She still has to pee though.

Elliot and Jules excuse themselves, waiting for her to finish. The plan was to go back to the party together. But-

“Guys?” Y/N calls, from inside the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“Get Rue.”

“What’s wrong?” Jules wonders, rattling the doorknob.

“My water just broke.”

Part 8

[akirakurusuimagines]

had the idea of reader getting marin karin'd and it not wearing off after leaving the metaverse so our dear boy helps her out by gently overstimulating her in front of a mirror 👉👈

I'm sorry for how long it's been taking to get this out! Hopefully the others won't take as long. Please enjoy! (minors DNI)

It only takes one mistake for everything to fall apart.

Akira believed they were sufficiently prepared to waltz right into Mementos and explore the depths that opened after the public’s response to their latest and greatest heist. He disregarded Morgana’s incessant warning that he was running low on ailment-curing items and revival items, reminding the cat that he was already planning on putting him and Makoto on the front lines this time so there was nothing to worry about.

So really, this mess was his fault. As leader, he knows he shoulders the responsibility of anything and everything that happens, even if his teammates don’t blame him.

It began to storm back in the real world as they reached the end of the current depths⁠; a painstakingly slow thirteen floors⁠ to comb through in search of treasure and experience. Everyone was nearing their physical and mental limits for the day, but at the sight of a rare challenger on their way back, they let their youthful recklessness seep through. One more, they all thought, one more to end the trip on a high note.

The high note they sought after quickly⁠ and almost comically⁠ became shrill.

The battle turned for the worst: unable to find a weakness, you and Mona were left with minimal SP, Queen had suffered an ill-timed critical attack and was knocked out cold, and Joker himself was running on fumes. Mind scattered in desperation, Joker attempted to regain some footing by attacking the particularly strong enemy with Marin Karin, hoping to charm it.

He didn’t expect that the enemy would end up reflecting it back at him.

Nor that you would take the brunt of the attack by jumping in front of him last-minute.

Joker and Mona finished the battle through sheer dumb luck, and all of the thieves expected things to return to normal. Queen stood up on shaky legs and thanked Panther for medicine, but when they turned to look at you, their hearts dropped.

Your face was flushed and eyes glassy, no different than how you were in battle. The unspoken rules of Mementos was broken⁠—somehow you didn’t come to once the fight finished.

Joker took to your side immediately, helping you up but freezing at the garbled moan that slipped past your lips the moment his hands landed on you. The others looked on with concern and fear, not understanding why this was happening, but it was obvious to everyone that they needed to leave immediately. He apologized to them and announced that he’ll be taking you home to make sure you’re safe and resting while the others research the strange divergence.

His arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you steady as you mindlessly clung to him, and ushered you out of Mementos and towards the trains.

Akira felt like he was suffocating. If this is how he was feeling, he could only start to imagine what you’re suffering through right now.

He kept you hidden from view as best as he could, squished in the corner between the door, the seats, and him. Akira put you in a spare face mask he had and slid his glasses over your nose, hoping to protect your identity in case any snooping individual lingered on you two a little too long.

“Hold on just a little longer for me, okay? We’re almost there.”

He watched your knees buckle and your thighs clench together at his words and felt his mouth run dry. Akira willed himself to stay calm, to steady his heartbeat, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do when you were in a state like this. Especially considering he harbored feelings for you.

“Please,” you begged. He almost didn’t hear it with how quietly you murmured it. “Akira, I… I need…”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Yeah?” he leaned in closer, hoping to catch the rest of what you’re saying.

Your hand grabbed his thigh, tugging his leg closer to you and causing him to stumble forward, balancing with his forearm next to your head. He stared at you with wide eyes as you shifted his leg with no resistance between your thighs and sat on it, slowly and carefully grinding against it.

Akira’s head whipped around, making sure no one was watching as you shamelessly used his leg to relieve some of the pressure that Marin Karin’s charm had on you. He nearly stopped breathing when you whined right next to his ear, a sound too soft for anyone else to notice as the train screeched to another halt.

Your stop was next, but there was no way he was making it out of this without a boner. He looked back at you and swallowed hard, only able to see the way your eyes were screwed shut and eyebrows knitted with frustration and concentration, pressing yourself a little harder against the meat of his thigh.

“Need more, ‘s too hot,” you blabbered softly, hands gripping the lapel of his blazer. “want you, want you so bad⁠—”

“We⁠—we’re almost home,” Akira choked out, each passing moment more difficult than the last. He wanted to pinch himself, wondering if this was actually some wild porno dream he was having back in Leblanc, but the way you felt rutting against his thigh like this was far too real for him to deny this was reality.

“Akiraaaa...”

He nearly lost himself when he saw your teary-eyed expression, suddenly grateful for the crowded train dissuading him from bending you over the train seats and giving into temptation. Akira wanted to know every part of you: every touch that makes you keen, every kiss that makes your head spin, every position that makes you cream.

Akira almost praised the gods aloud when the announcer comments on your stop, pulling himself off of you despite your whines and taking your hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he nearly runs out of the train the second the doors behind you open.

It was quite the ordeal dragging you back home. Every moment he stopped, your hands would wander, gripping his shirt or his belt loops, sliding your hand underneath to feel the warmth of his skin. You pressed closer and closer against him, your inhibitions far-gone, leaving only your charmed mind.

He grabbed your wrist firmly when you reached for his crotch at the door to your house, sucking in a large breath and hoping you’d be able to contain yourself enough for him to open the door with your keys and lead you inside.

Akira pushed open the door and dragged you inside, kicking it closed and locking it quickly. He couldn’t help the whole-body sigh that passed through him with the relief of privacy.

You, however, took it as your cue to tackle him to the ground and relieve yourself.

“Shit, wait, hold on⁠—” Akira staggered back, gripping your hip and arm and barley catching himself. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t want to try to get… uh… get off on your own?”

“No no no no no⁠—!” you shook your head adamantly despite your slurred voice, the sheer panic in your voice and face surprising him. “Want you, only you, please.”

Akira pressed his lips together in a tight line and hoisted you up in his arms, silently thanking the rough training he’s been enduring with Ryuji. The way your eyes lit up as he carried you to your bedroom made his heart palpitate, the rational side of him quickly losing to the promise of passion.

He really was weak to you.

He grunted as his legs hit the bed, falling down with you on his lap. Akira barely had time to speak before your lips were all over him, kissing all over his face and jaw as you roughly grinded against him. He choked down his moans and tangled a hand in your hair, hoping to slow you down with a sharp tug to your scalp.

Akira felt you seize up the moment he did, nails digging into his shoulders despite the layers of clothing, pressing your hips harder against his, and with a loud cry, he felt dampness against his crotch. It took a moment to process that you came untouched, just from him having you in his lap and tugging your hair.

“Did you just…?” his hand wandered towards your pants, slipping inside your underwear and feeling the sticky substance coat his fingers as he reached your thighs. He pulled them out, observing the strands between his fingers and licking them clean with a low groan. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

Akira palmed your crotch and felt you shudder as you rolled your hips against his again. “But… it isn’t enough, right?”

“Nnno…”

He looked around the room briefly and caught his own eyes in the floor-length mirror in your room.

“Stand up for me and strip, sweetheart,” Akira instructed with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He loved the way you scrambled off of him, shedding your clothes and looking at him with the same hazy doe-eyes that made him spend countless private hours fantasizing about. You looked at him with so much lust, being so obedient for him in hopes of getting another orgasm.

He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside, shifting closer to the mirror until it stood in front of him. “Turn around and sit back on my lap.”

Akira steadied you with gentle hands on your hips as you sat on his lap and pressed your sticky thighs together to feel some kind of friction against the torturous heat. He pried them open, spreading your legs to straddle him and spreading you open for the mirror.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he gently chided, “keep these pretty thighs open for me, okay?”

Akira refused to touch you until you nodded.

“Perfect,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Akira guided his hands up from your thighs to your chest, brushing against your nipples and continuing his path up until he reached your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look at the shameful display you created with him. “I want you to look at yourself as I touch you,” Akira explained, “I want you to see everything.”

You nodded dumbly, anything to get his hands back to pleasuring you. “Please,” you continued to repeat with breathless whines, “I want more, I want you in me.” You pushed your ass harder against his hard cock, hoping he would take the bait. You wanted to be fucked silly and at this point you really didn’t care how you got there.

Akira sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling for a few seconds as you continued to grind yourself on his dick. “Later, okay?” his voice wavered and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own word with how enthusiastic you seemed about riding him.

He let go of your face and skimmed your inner thighs, catching the cum from your first orgasm on his fingers and finally touching you properly. You keened, head falling back as he slowly pressed two fingers into your hole. “Yes⁠!” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little further and bucking your hips into his hand, “More, please, oh god it feels so good⁠— hnn!”

Akira’s hand steadied your head, once again pushing you to look at yourself as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Don’t stop watching,” he purred as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “Oh, you liked that?”

You grasped his hair and his wrist, incoherent noises fumbling from your lips as Akira brought you to another orgasm within minutes. Marin Karin had quite the effect on you: keeping your stamina high and your libido higher, giving you more orgasms than you’ve had in your life, emptying your head and leaving nothing but pleasant buzzing.

He stared at you in the mirror, catching your unfocused gaze as your eyes shifted from his face to his hand and back again. “You’re doing so good,” Akira mumbled strings of words he barely paid attention to as you squirmed in his hold. He added another finger, stretching you out further and curling his fingers inside of you. He felt your legs shake and watched your jaw go slack as pleasure only continued to build.

“Again?” he asked, groaning at how you clench around his fingers, barely giving him room to move them. Even still, you continue to thrust your hips into his hands⁠, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you need,” Akira promised, kissing your cheek and resting his temple against yours, “I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

[96percentdone]

You're Wrong About Justice for All

So, recently I replayed the Ace Attorney trilogy, including the oft maligned Justice for All, and realized a few things. The first is that Justice for All slaps so fucking hard, and the second is that most people do not understand the overarching plot of Justice for All, and so they don't get why it's the best actually.

It's a common belief that Justice for All is the game where Miles Edgeworth faked his own death, and in grief from his loss, Franziska von Karma goes on a revenge quest against Phoenix Wright for soiling Edgeworth's perfect trial record and thus causing his demise, all while Wright himself mourns the loss of his friend. Which is a spicy narrative, I'll give you that, it's just not true.

My opening statement is as follows: While Justice for All does use language of death and grief in this storyline, the actual events are not about a man who literally faked his death, but about how two people who have placed impossible expectations on one man contend with when he fails them, and how when said man returned changed once more he forces them to confront this fact and become better people. Furthermore, I maintain that this storyline is fucking baller as hell and works better with the message and themes of JFA than the common belief.

Let's put Justice for All on trial, shall we? Under the cut!

Part One: "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death"

Now, since you're still here and haven't just clicked off under the assumption I'm a disconnected weirdo who doesn't know how to read, you're probably thinking "uh, what about Edgeworth's note? What about 'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death?' Isn't that pretty good evidence for faking his death?" To which I say... yeah, I guess if you ignore the weirdly specific phrasing and also everything else that happens. Like. I'm sorry, this is a note that specifically mentions his job? He leaves the note in his office too (or at least the anime indicates as much), and doesn't that look more like a weirdly dramatic resignation letter?

But okay none of that probably sounds very convincing right now. After all, Miles had just gone through some of the most harrowing trials in his life. He was put on trial twice, had his entire worldview and belief about himself upended, and then just to hammer it in was confronted by a murderer who believes Edgeworth will one day be like him. It would be completely understandable for him to be in utter emotional turmoil. Indeed, Nick alludes to as much when he finally talks about what happens in Turnabout Big Top, more on that later. Furthermore, in Farewell My Turnabout, he uses the specific phrase "choosing death" when confronting Adrian Andrews on the witness stand about her history of mental illness as a euphemism for suicide, so it's not out of the question he was suicidal. I'm not going to argue he was or wasn't. Frankly, there’s a few hints to suggest he was, but it’s hard to wholly prove because you don't see him during the time he wrote it, or what he's thinking.

No, in fact, I'm going to argue that nobody else truly thought he killed himself, and thus render it irrelevant whether he was suicidal or not! Let's start with that exchange from Turnabout Big Top with Franziska I just mentioned. This is the first time it is ever explicitly discussed aloud what happened to Miles, taking it out of a vague mystery and bringing it into the spotlight. It goes like this (thank you AA wiki for mostly complete transcripts):

Phoenix: !! Then... Then what's this "revenge" thing you're talking about? von Karma: You wouldn't understand, Mr. Phoenix Wright. I have to see "him" again, one more time. Phoenix: "Him"? von Karma: I'm sure you know to whom I refer... Miles Edgeworth!! Maya: What!? Edgeworth!? Mr... EDGEWORTH!? Phoenix: M-M-Mi-Miles E-Ed-Edg-Edgeworth!! Miles Edgeworth... Why would you even bring him up!? von Karma: You haven't forgotten, have you? Do you know who it was that trained the gifted prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth? Maya: !! Manfred... von... Karma... von Karma: Exactly right. It was my papa. Maya: That means that Edgeworth was... von Karma: Right again. Miles was like a little brother to me. Maya: Huh? Little brother? Edgeworth and Nick are the same age... Phoenix: (Edgeworth... The man who inspired me to become an attorney. I fought against him in a few cases... But after "that" case was over... He "vanished"...) von Karma: It's your fault he is gone. Maya: HUH!? von Karma: It's the truth, isn't it Mr. Phoenix Wright? Phoenix: I... I... Maya: Nick! What does she mean!? Phoenix: After that case, Edgeworth was in a peculiar state, and he got worse everyday. He never set foot into court again... And then one day, he just vanished. All he left was a simple note at the prosecutor's office. von Karma: "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death." Phoenix: That was one year ago. It was right after you left to go back home. Maya: Mr. Edgeworth... He's dead? von Karma: I don't believe it. He's still alive. I'm sure of it... Somewhere in this world, he's still alive. "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death?" Of course he did! You ruined his reputation as a Prosecutor! You effectively killed the Prosecutor in him. Just like your victory muddied the honorable name Von Karma! I'm going to find him... Then I'm going to teach him the difference between right and wrong with my own hands! Maya: N-N-Nick! Umm... About Edgeworth? Phoenix: Maya, I already told you this once. Don't make me do it again. Don't bring up his name in front of me again, OK? Maya: N-Nick...? Phoenix: Von Karma? von Karma: What? Phoenix: I don't know if you are god's gift to prosecutors or not, but I've had about enough of you!! Him too! Maya: Wha... What happened? von Karma: Hmph. This dog is all bark and no bite. He's already been defeated... Regardless, I have nothing to inform you two of today. Tomorrow will be the greatest courtroom battle this country has ever seen!! Maya: Nick? Phoenix: Let's go. We need to talk with the performer on the third floor. Maya: I'm sorry I brought it up, Nick...

Boy that was a long chunk huh? Lot to unpack here, some of which I'll return to more than once, but still it's quite lengthy. Let's start with the obvious: Franziska says point blank she doesn't think Miles died. She believes he is still alive, and that he just left because of his reputation as a perfect prosecutor being completely shattered. Her desire for revenge is, in part, born to crush the man who made him quit, in her view. So okay that's one party easily taken out of the way. I mean ya girl literally says it straight up, but Fran isn't going to be the sticking point. The sticking point is Nick.

To talk about Nick, I also have to talk about Maya, because Maya in this scene, is a stand in for the players. She reacts like we would to this bombshell, in shock that Edgeworth has apparently committed suicide. Up until this point, Nick has been really cagey and unwilling to tell her about Miles, and consistently tells her not to talk about him anymore whenever she tries, and here she's finally told what happened. We as players are inclined to take her perspective since we are as in the dark as she is. So naturally, Maya reads Nick's bitterness and reticence as his grief, and apologizes for treading on his feelings when he's clearly going through loss. It's not an unreasonable hypothesis, because Nick hasn't been forthcoming.

And he still isn't being forthcoming either. You'll notice that in this exchange he never actually confirms that Miles died. He uses words like vanished, and when asked 'He's dead?' doesn't even say a word before Franziska monologues her opinion. His response to that speech isn't to tell her she's wrong; it's to tell Maya not to bring him up again. He is still steadfastly avoiding the subject, unwilling to confront the truth of it.

But is that truth that he believes Miles Edgeworth died? As far as evidence goes, this is pretty circumstantial. With the perspective of an unknowing audience member, it is easy to read that as the truth, but it lacks backing. We need more information. One exchange is not enough to make a case, let's skip ahead to Farewell my Turnabout!

Part Two: "I...I never wanted to see you again!"

These are the words Phoenix Wright utters when Miles Edgeworth shows up in criminal affairs, just to call Fran and Nick lost lambs who need his guidance. Now let's put this quote in context, so that I do not distort the facts. We'll start from after Franziska leaves, after all, I really don't need to prove her thoughts more, right?

Phoenix: I thought you, the Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, had gone and died! Pearl: Mr. Nick! Phoenix: I...I never wanted to see you again! Edgeworth: I think that's enough of a "warm welcome" for someone you haven't seen in a year. Phoenix: Are you going to run tomorrow's trial...? Edgeworth: ...You heard her, right? That wild mare hasn't given in yet, it seems. So, no, I don't think I'll be making an appearance. Pearl: ... Edgeworth: Your hatred for me is quite unhealthy. Not to mention one-sided. But I will say one thing... Phoenix: ... Edgeworth: You can't win on your own at the trial tomorrow. Phoenix: (What is that supposed to mean...?) Edgeworth: I have something definitive that you lack. And working together is the definition of teamwork. It's the power to find the truth. Phoenix: "The truth"...? Edgeworth: In order to understand this case, you have to understand a certain "truth". ...Well if you ever feel the need for my assistance, it is available to you. I'm not in charge of this case, so I can be a bit more generous with information. Phoenix: (Just what is going on inside his head...?) Edgeworth: A lot of things have happened, however Manfred von Karma was still my mentor. And a "perfect win record" is proof of a von Karma. Phoenix: ...One year ago, you could not establish guilt in a few cases...Are those losses the reason you suddenly disappeared from the Prosecutor's Office? Did you leave because you had lost your "perfect win record"...? Edgeworth: ... Phoenix: To think your motivation for prosecuting trials was so selfish...It'd have been better for everyone if you never came back from the dead, Edgeworth! Edgeworth: ... I see. Then let me ask you something. Why do YOU stand in the courtroom? What is your reason? Phoenix: Well, with Franziska, she almost always says, "I will defeat you this time!" the instant she sees me. But...The courtroom is not a personal battlefield for Prosecutor's and lawyers. I stand in the courtroom to defend my client. ...To save their lives. Edgeworth: To save your client, you say? Phoenix: Those who think only of their ego driven goals...Those kind of prosecutors are reprehensible to me. Even if you're a "prodigy"...Or someone like you, Edgeworth... Edgeworth: ...It looks like there is still a lot you have yet to learn.

Another long boi. I'd apologise but some of this also comes back later and I won't have to give you context ever again when it does! You'll thank me for that!

Let's get into it, shall we? Right off the bat Phoenix says point blank he thought the prosecutor Miles Edgeworth had gone and died. He even says "returned from the dead" later So I guess I lose, right? Well, hold off on that for now. There's that weird sticking point with the his title again like there was with the note, but I'm sure some of you are already thinking "he's just throwing his words back at him!" And maybe that's true, I just don't think it's that simple.

"I never wanted to see you again" are not the words of a man who believed up until now that the person he was talking to died. I mean, think about it: if you think someone died, are you going to be thinking about how you don't want to see them anymore? Even if you hate them, even if they're your least favorite person in the whole world, is that what will cross your mind? Sure, you might be relieved, maybe even happy, but you're not going to be thinking in terms of whether you want to see them again or not, because you never will. They're dead. You can't even say he's speaking for how he feels for right now exclusively, because he says never, indicating this was a long term thought he had well before Miles showed his pretty face again. In my view, he’s slipping up here.

But enough semantics, let's talk information. Here we get a lot more insight into what Phoenix Wright thinks about Miles' disappearance, something he refused to speak about in depth before. He states that he believes Miles left because he could not cope with his failure, so he ran, much like Franziska did, but it has a different edge. While Franziska's words are the ones of someone set to avenge his reputation, who clearly placed great stock in it, Phoenix views it with contempt. He sees it as cowardly, and even as a betrayal for what he should be in the courtroom based on his own statement about how a courtroom isn’t for egos. This very clearly explains why he’s been so unwilling to talk about it up until now, because it’s something that makes him angry, something Miles even recognizes as hate before Phoenix explains himself further. It’s valuable perspective, one we’ll have to get into more later, but it’s not quite enough.

Yet again I have to ask a question: does this prove one way or the other that Phoenix Wright believed Miles Edgeworth died? It’s still not looking great for me, to be honest. I feel like Phoenix Wright, scrambling to maintain my argument in the face of mounting suspicion. But like Phoenix, I’ve got my hands on one piece of decisive evidence, one that will turn everything thus far on its head, and prove that I was right!

Part Three: “At least, that’s what I told myself.”

I’ll cut straight to it. No preamble, no excessive length. These are words Nick says after Miles finishes explaining his reason for his journey of self-discovery, what he learned about his role as a prosecutor, and Nick’s importance in helping him understand that role: to find the truth.

Pearl: The "truth"... Edgeworth: Yes. That's the reason why prosecutors and defense lawyers exist. But I'm sure you knew that already, didn't you Wright? Phoenix: ... Edgeworth: That's why you couldn't forgive me; this man who went into hiding. Isn't that right? This man who only had his sights set on "victory", who ran away into the night... Pearl: Ah! Is... Is Mr. Edgeworth right, Mr. Nick...!? Phoenix: (You really let me down...) When you disappeared, I felt... betrayed. The reason I decided to become a lawyer to begin with... Was because I believed in the things you said to me, all those years ago... And you... You betrayed your own words. That's why... one year ago, I made up my mind. I decided that the Miles Edgeworth I knew had died... ...At least, that's what I told myself.

There you have it folks! Here it is! Phoenix Wright has admitted the truth! He decided that Miles Edgeworth had died! The death of Miles Edgeworth has been a false narrative that Phoenix had been telling himself this past year to cope with his feelings of personal betrayal that Miles Edgeworth left. He knew, or at least realized, that Miles was alive somewhere, and actively chose to believe the contrary because he could not accept that Miles had left and betrayed what Phoenix believed him to be.

And this explains so many of the odd points we’ve seen this whole time. For example: why didn’t Maya know anything until Turnabout Big Top? Surely if you believed your friend who you based your whole career on kicked it you would tell the people close to you, right? You wouldn’t choose to actively keep that a secret, right? Why wouldn’t he tell her? Because it wasn’t true. Yet it still obviously bothered him, so much he refused to talk about it, and got testy at even the slightest mention. He refused to frame it as beyond a vanishing, except when it would hurt Miles more (as demonstrated by him throwing his words back at him), but he still was distraught enough to mourn a death that he knew was not real. Phoenix Wright was still hurt by this, he still grieved, but it wasn’t at a real death: it was at the death of his own dream.

But what does this mean for Justice for All? How does the fact that neither Phoenix nor Franziska believe Miles is dead affect the story being told, or the themes? If he is still grieving, and Franziska is still avenging, is it not the same with only a caveat of distinction? Well…no. I would argue that this distinction plays into our themes.

Part Four: "The courtroom is not a personal battlefield for prosecutors and lawyers.”

Or so Phoenix Wright says when he’s dressing down Miles for leaving. Now obviously, this line brings to mind Franziska, a fact that’s extremely obvious when you remember he was talking about her just as he said this, so let’s talk about Franziska von Karma, the rival prosecutor of the game, who plays a pivotal role in the narrative.

As Franziska said back in part one, she did not believe Miles died, and believed that he vanished on her because his record was ruined. She believes this is a source of great shame for him, and she cannot fathom a reason beyond that for his disappearance, and this shame irritates her. Though she would never say so upfront, it’s apparent she cares greatly for her ‘little brother’ if she feels the need to avenge him. However, Franziska hasn’t given us enough information about her motivations in this scene, and to really understand them the final scene of Justice for All must be examined.

Edgeworth: ... What are you going to do now? von Karma: ... That's none of your business. Edgeworth: Are you running away? von Karma: Shut up! You don't understand a thing! You can't possibly understand what it means to be "Manfred von Karma's daughter"! Edgeworth: Franziska... von Karma: So many expectations from everyone around me... Expectations I must fulfill! I'm expected to win no matter what. And failure? Such a thing is not an option for me! My father was a genius. There's no doubt about that! But... But me... I'm no genius. I've always known that. Edgeworth: ... von Karma: But I... I had to be one. I had to. Edgeworth: ... You may not be a genius like your father... But... You are a prosecutor. You have been and always will be. von Karma:...! No, I'm not... Not anymore. I've even thrown my whip away. Edgeworth: Speaking of that... Wright gave me this to hold onto. (Wright... You knew something like this would happen, didn't you...?) von Karma: ... Edgeworth: I'm going to say this again. We prosecutors do not fight for personal honor or pride. I hope you will think deeply... About what you should be striking down with that whip. von Karma: ... You haven't changed a bit... You've always... You've always left me alone and walked on ahead without me. Miles Edgeworth... I've always hated you. Edgeworth: ... von Karma: And then... Finally, my chance to take my revenge on you arrived. If I could win against that man... If I could make Phoenix Wright bow down in defeat... Then this "girl" you left behind would have risen higher than you! That was supposed to be my "revenge"... Edgeworth: I see... von Karma: ... You know, I can't do it... I can't change who I am. I can't throw away everything I've been until today. Edgeworth: I believe you can. Just like how Adrian Andrews did. von Karma: Adrian Andrews...? Edgeworth: You were going to use her during the trial, right? But you... You were "dependant" on your father by using his tactics. Isn't that right? von Karma: Hmph! Edgeworth: Today, you chased after me, after I had left you behind all these years. And that's why we're standing here now, side by side. von Karma: ...! Edgeworth: But I have no intention of stopping. If you say you are going to quit your walk down the prosecutor's path... ... Then, this is where we part ways, Franziska von Karma. von Karma: ... I... I... I am Franziska von Karma. Don't think I'm going to walk in your shadow forever... Our battle... begins now... so you had better prepare yourself, Miles Edgeworth!

There are three key points to this scene, in regards to Franziska’s motivations. The first is as the daughter of Manfred von Karma, she feels as though she must succeed him perfectly whether it is within her capacity or not. The legacy of her family is a burden she is compelled to live up to. Manfred von Karma, shitty scumbag that he was, still has 40 years of perfect trials under his belt, and this is something she would be expected to emulate, baggage of what that entails and all. It is a fair bit of pressure, especially when you remember she became a prosecutor as a middle schooler, and is still only a teenager.

The second, which is informed by the first, is that she believes she has always been inferior to Miles, and thus in order to earn her legacy, she must surpass him. This makes sense if you remember that Manfred von Karma spent 15 years meticulously grooming Miles to be just like him just so he could spite the ghost of Gregory Edgeworth, and act that to a young child can feel like your father believes his adopted son is more capable than you are. As she said, she will not walk in his shadow forever. She will be considered his equal, and worthy.

And the third, which is informed by the second, is that she doesn’t want to be left behind by Miles again. This is both in terms of being in his shadow, like mentioned previously, but also quite literally, when he completely vanished, or even when he left to prosecute in America while she was still in Germany. As she said back in Turnabout Big Top, “I have to see ‘him’ again, one more time.” She wants to understand why he keeps leaving her behind, and thinks she will only ever get that chance if she proves herself to be above him.

And this is something she cannot do. In her own trials, with her own methods, she does not beat Phoenix Wright, and it feels obvious why she can’t, right? Because she’s behaving too much like Miles did, before Phoenix Wright taught him otherwise. She cares too much about a legacy built on perfection, with all the harm it might entail, even if she has other more sympathetic motives for her actions in this game. She’s still dependent on her father’s name, and his ideas. She can’t win if she’s still clinging onto an old, broken story, but it’s one she’s reluctant to let go. As she says, she doesn’t think she can turn from being the person she has been up until now.

It’s a narrative; one she projects onto Miles in an attempt to maintain it, even as it’s falling apart. Miles Edgeworth is not a person so much as an idea she must trounce to assert her own identity and personhood. Before the events of the first game, he represented her own failure, and the pressure to exist as a von Karma. And after it’s events, when Miles leaves to become a different man, Franziska sees this as an opportunity to finally surpass that image of him. She can’t see that maybe he’s outgrown the legacy she clings to, and doesn’t want to, because to confront that would mean having to face truths about herself. No, she must surpass him perfectly, regardless of whether the man himself even cares for perfection anymore, which he doesn’t. He doesn’t care about perfect trials and win records, only the truth, and he challenges her to follow him. Not the ideas about herself she decided he stands for, but the man he is right now, the real Miles Edgeworth.

Do you see how this relates to the thesis? Is it starting to come together? Good. Now let’s talk about Phoenix Wright.

Part Five: "We aren't some sort of heroes.”

I want to open with a short exchange I missed during Farewell my Turnabout, where I got the title quote. It’s important, trust me.

Phoenix: I became a lawyer because I thought... I thought I could save people who were suffering and in pain... Pearl: ... Phoenix: But... When I look at this mess we're in... I can't even protect the person closest to me. Even if I win the case, I still lose in the end... I just don't know what to do! Edgeworth: ... Wright. Would you get a hold of yourself? You have it all wrong. Phoenix: Huh? Edgeworth: We aren't some sort of heroes. We're only human, you and I. You want to "save someone"? That's something easier said than done, wouldn't you say? Pearl: Th-That's... Edgeworth: You are a defense lawyer. You can't run away from that. You can only fight. That's all you can do.

I chose this quote from Miles because it highlights the obvious flaw in Nick’s motivations: he’s not a savior, he’s just a man. Phoenix Wright, as noble as it may be, until this point has labored under the conception that it is his job, his moral imperative, to save people, whether that is something he can even manage or not. Like Franziska clinging to perfection, this is an untenable mindset. You cannot save people, certainly not everyone who comes your way needing help. You can try, but it’s not guaranteed, and it’s not your duty to do so.

Farewell my Turnabout is a trial of Nick’s existing motivations, because his client is not someone who should be saved, yet he must succeed in doing so, or else Maya will die, yet of course if he does so, he will be dooming Adrian Andrews to a conviction for a crime she did not commit. By forcing him in this position, his belief about what his role as a defense attorney has been challenged: he cannot save them both. Who is more worthy of saving? How do you decide that? And even if you decide, is your decision the right one? Is that something you have the right to decide?

It’s significant that the only way to get the good, true ending is by prioritizing the truth instead of his savior complex. Yes, by showing de Killer the truth, he is able to save them both, he does not have to give up anything, yet he’s only permitted this if he sticks with what’s true. His failure in pursuing the truth leads to the worst ending, where Engarde gets off, Andrews is convicted, and he never sees Maya again even if she’s alive. He loses everything. The reason why it doesn’t matter whether you say guilty or not guilty, even when saving only one was a serious factor, because who you choose to save matters less in the grand scheme of things than making the truth known. It’s neat.

Okay, but how does this relate to Miles? How does Nick’s savior complex, and learning to prioritize the truth relate to Miles? Well, I have only one thing to say: who is the person Phoenix Wright wanted to save by becoming a lawyer? See, Nick might say he wanted to save ‘people’, and I’m sure that’s true. That class trial in his youth had such a profound impact on him he would never want anyone to feel as lost and alone as he did. But the reason he became a defense attorney is Miles Edgeworth. Because in their youth, Miles saved him from the crushing despair of the class trial by wielding the idea of a defense attorney. Because when they grew up, Phoenix learned that Miles did not become a defense attorney, but a prosecutor, dead set on getting guilty verdicts without caring about who might pay for it. Because when he learned this is what Miles Edgeworth became, he had to meet him and find out why.

What is the plot of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney? Well, it’s about several things, but in this case, I’m referring to the wish to save Edgeworth. They meet again after 15 long years, and though Miles sucks ass especially in Turnabout Sisters, Phoenix manages to pull out signs the old Miles still exists in Turnabout Samurai. Then of course, in Turnabout Goodbyes Nick saves Miles not just from a guilty verdict for the murder of Robert Hammond, but from the belief he murdered his father, clearing up the trauma that plagued and motivated him into becoming what he became after all this time. And if we include Rise from the Ashes, Miles steps up to the plate to find the truth for the first time, if only because it feels personal. In fact, you can say he well surpassed his stated goal of just understanding why Miles became what he did. Phoenix Wright saved Miles Edgeworth; he did the thing he believes he is supposed to do.

Except…he didn’t, because Miles left. Because it turns out people are not so easily saved, and even if you clear up their trauma they still have the aftermath to figure out on their own. They still have to make peace with the life they lead up until that point. Miles left, and as has been well established, Phoenix took that as a personal betrayal. The ideals that Miles taught him as a child were not something Miles could live up to. Nick believed Miles left because he really did become someone wholly invested in perfection and never did see the error of his ways. The boy of his youth doesn’t exist anymore, and hasn’t for many years, and Miles leaving forced him to see that, but it wasn’t something he wanted to accept. If he did not fix Miles, which he took Miles disappearing as proof as that, then Miles might as well be dead.

The idea that Miles killed himself is a falsehood Nick engages in for a year because he is not ready to face the idea that maybe his preconceptions about who Miles Edgeworth is supposed to be right now are wrong. Miles isn’t a man who has to work through some shit, he’s a symbol of the ideals that Nick has striven to embody his entire life, and he left and threw that away despite all of Nick’s efforts. This is not something Phoenix was willing to accept.

He’s so unwilling to accept it that he’s very mad when confronted by anything that might remotely suggest he’s wrong. Franziska is a reminder that Miles left, and of the person Phoenix believed him to be for vanishing, and she stubbornly exists he still exists somewhere, and he is still like her, and that is all far too much for him. It’s too much that Maya innocently wants to know where he is, or what he’s up to, because if he has to think about it he’ll just sit in his anger again about how he feels betrayed that Miles could not live up to the ideal Nick imposed on him. Heck even when faced with the man in question he starts arguing with him about what Miles was trying to accomplish by leaving, and isn’t willing to accept the answer he gets at first. The person in front of him is not someone Phoenix Wright is willing to engage with on his own terms. Nick must be a savior, and if he didn’t save Miles, then that means Miles was beyond saving: Miles was dead all along. He’d rather kill him off than face he’s changed, that those ideals are not infallible.

And Miles Edgeworth did change, and change yet again. Yes, he turned into the demon prosecutor, after the events of AA1, while he was gone, he worked on becoming the man who stands for the truth above all else, one who doesn’t abide by any falsehoods. Whether it’s the lies in someone’s testimony, or the beliefs people project onto him, he cuts them down. He’s not a savior, he says so himself, and some of his actions in pursuit of the truth can be pretty cruel, like how he was going to expose Adrian. This isn’t the person either Nick or Franziska wanted him to be, but he is the one they needed him to be to realize their own faults. He was the one who enabled Nick to fight impossible odds, and encouraged Franziska to find another path. He advocates for the truth, and by asserting himself and what he believes, he puts Nick and Franziska on the right path to understanding the real message of the game.

Edgeworth: I had fun tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me... Phoenix: Wait. Edgeworth: What? Phoenix: ... I just want to say... Thanks, Edgeworth. You really saved me out there. Edgeworth: ...Hmph. If anyone should be saying thanks, it should be me, Wright.

Conclusion: “But we will always eventually reach that one single truth.”

Learning and accepting the truth is the moral of the story, one that permeates all three major characters of the game. Isn’t it cool? That both Nick and Franziska decide to accept Miles Edgeworth on his own terms, and become stronger people as a result? Isn’t it fucking cool how the theme even connects to the main characters’ personal denials and inability to accept how things might change, and how they weren’t willing to confront the truth about it until they were made to? Is it not sick as hell that Nick shows Miles the truth about what his life is and what he’s been doing, thus inspiring Miles to become better, and then Miles comes back and returns the favor to let Nick see that his savior complex is detrimental to his actual work and to his own wellbeing? Does that not fucking slap? Doesn’t Justice for All deserve just extreme respect for this cool ass subtle storytelling?

The single truth of this essay is that Justice for All is really fucking good dude holy shit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. If you still somehow don’t agree with me…I’m sorry you cannot recognize the greatness that is Justice For All get well soon. Thanks for reading.

[lunagojo]

Uzui Tengen and Rengoku Kyojuro w/ a S/O That Sleeps A Lot

(aka me. hi depression how are ya <3)

A/N: I'm gonna reopen requests soon I promise, I just needed a bit of time after my grandma passed away to just breathe. I appreciate you all for your patience <3

Uzui Tengen (and wives c:)

Let's say for the sake of these headcanons you're his fourth spouse :)

All four of them absolutely adore you and would do anything to keep you safe and happy, they're all extremely good listeners and very emotionally supportive <3

However they do tend to worry a bit about how much you sleep

Tengen does his best to make sure that there's a space in his estate for you to be comfortable. He goes all out and gets you the absolute best pillows, blankets, sheets, etc. and also makes sure the space is in a part of the home that is quiet

He also checks in with you when you've been sleeping for a long time, usually after a few hours he'll come in and ask you if you need anything or if you're feeling okay (sometimes -- often -- all the time it ends with him snuggling up to you and squishing you in his big ass arms)

He also always asks about your dreams that you have because he finds them extremely flamboyant.

Hinatsuru will bring you tea and snacks if you've been asleep for awhile to make sure that you're still eating/drinking. She constantly frets about your health and does whatever she can to keep you in tip top shape.

Makio, at first, won't understand why you sleep all the time. She sometimes would snap at you when you wake up or come downstairs in the middle of the afternoon after sleeping half the day away. However, when she realizes that you're just constantly exhausted, she'll soften up a bit. She'll never openly admit it, but she loves the way your face looks when you're asleep, she thinks it's very cute :3

Suma meanwhile always comes in and snuggles up to you. She was very worried for you for awhile because she thought you were either sick or dying but once you assured her that you were just always tired she was relieved. She still snuggles with you every time though because she wants to make sure you're okay

If anyone ever accuses you of being lazy or makes fun of you for it, best believe they'll have one pissed off Hashira and his three shinobi wives on them in a SECOND.

They are all very protective of you, 10/10 spouses that will love you for all your quirks and whatnot.

(can you tell i am a hardcore s i m p for these guys)

Rengoku Kyojuro

At first, this man was VERY worried.

He honestly thought you had an illness of some sort which terrified him to no end (since he lost his mother, he's so scared of losing someone else he loves)

He made you go get checked out by a doctor and everything just to be 100000% sure

Once that was done...well he still worried but not as much

Can and will lend you his haori for you to sleep in (it so warm and smells like him, so comforting and nice)

Since he's away for his work often, he'll leave you with his little brother to watch over you. Senjuro is someone he trusts more than anyone else (besides you of course) so he has no worries while he's away

Let's...just forget the comments Kyo's father had about you and your sleeping habits, yeah?

When he comes back from a job, you're the first person he goes to

Usually you're asleep but he doesn't mind, he'll still crawl in beside you and pull you close to him

You typically make this small noise of contentment and nuzzle into him, which he just... MELTS at

It's those moments with you he lives for

This guy loves with all of his heart, he would never ever ever let anything happen to you or hurt you.

Your sleeping habits are just another thing that make you, you. As long as you're physically healthy and mentally healthy, he's happy, too.

Though...if you're not well mentally, he is always there for you, if you need to talk or just need to be hugged and held. He wants you to know how loved you are, by both him and Senjuro

Kyo will also bring you tea each morning before he goes off to train. Bless his heart <3

All in all 11/10 king boyfriend / husband

[theghostnugget]

I watch a lot of psychology stuff on YouTube (for reasons I will not explain lol) and so often I hear something (especially stuff relating to trauma and unhealthy coping skills) that makes me need to pause and think about Hiei.

My poor boy went through so much shit and had no time to process cause he was forced to fight for his life every single day (there was no time for him to sit down and evaluate “ok that was a shitty thing, how do I cope/how do I move on”).

This post’s length got away from me so…

By the time the series starts he is deeply entrenched in the unhealthy coping skills he had to develop (trust no one, they’re all going to abandon you if they don’t outright betray you - never address you emotions out loud or even in your own head because that distraction will get you killed - love is just a crutch for the weak who can’t fend for themselves that’s why I don’t even want it - etc etc). He doesn’t even realize that he has a support group and a safe space to start to unpack because he has no idea what those things look like. Then comes the process of actually unpacking which he has no fucking clue how to do because he never had healthy coping modeled for him. And he doesn’t even think he can ask for help because he a) doesn’t believe anyone cares enough to help and b) he’s still not completely sure they aren’t playing the long game to get him to lower his guard so they can stab him in the back

I think the reason he leaves for half of season 3 is he subconsciously starts to recognize he has trauma he can and should process and that terrifies him. He has no clue how to start and he knows it’s going to get worse before it gets better and most importantly: he’s found ways to make his poorly executed shit work. Anger and lashing out and self-loathing aren’t helping him in the long run but he can’t tell because they’ve been the things keeping him alive so far - and if he does learn to let those go, what the hell is he gonna find underneath?? What if there’s nothing? What if he’s even more miserable than before?? Then he’ll have to confront the idea that the world isn’t screwed up, it’s just him - he’s truly broken and there’s no hope of him ever being happy. So he chooses the devil he knows and actively chooses to walk away from something that has the potential to heal him

There’s this quote from Just Between Us (an excellent YouTube channel that I definitely recommend) that’s something along the lines of “a miserable person gets to live with the hope of one day being happy while a happy person has to live with the fear of one day becoming miserable” and I think that sums up Hiei’s thought process pretty well - he’s terrified of being happy because it doesn’t last but at least, if he’s miserable, he can hope for the abstract concept of it

It used to bug me that Mukuro was the one to pull him out of his bullshit when the only reason he trusted her enough to let her in was because he was already starting to trust Yusuke, Kurama, and to an extent Kuwabara (and I have so many feelings about why his antagonism towards Kuwabara is also rooted in his shitty mental health but I’ll sum it up to this - when you’re traumatized and miserable, you start to hate everyone who’s not miserable because why the hell does he get to be happy and coping with this shit while I’m spiraling out of control here). But I think it boils down to, he feels too broken to really open up fully to people he thinks are stable - (He’s too wrapped up in level 20 mental illness to realize that they’re all coping pretty poorly {except Kuwabara - he’s best boy and he’s killing it}) - but he meets Mukuro and she’s a disaster just like him, she’s been through so much but she still manages to cling to happiness - she’s him 1 or 2 steps into healing (which gives him hope) but she’s still close enough to his level that he feels like he can open up for the first time without the fear of judgement

This post is so rambly and all over the place but if I didn’t express these feelings I felt like I would die so… thanks for reading?