#knowing if she had the chance shed bear any pain to keep her kids with her

[fanstuffrantings]

Concept: elf tav who is just under 300, all of her children died as adventurers or guards. Her husband and her became vastly different people in the wake of all the grief. They havent spoken in years, incapable of existing around each other before breaking down. The journey after the crash she keeps seeing shadows her kids in the various party members and as such she desperately wants to help them. Save them in ways she couldn't for her own children. A pillar of love and guidance because her children may be gone, but she will always be a mother.

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Dad scenario: You get your quirk!

Warnings: Blood, death and Shiggy angst!

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Shigaraki:

[Your mom's quirk was self healing it could heal any physical damage on her body in a blink of an eye and so it cancelled your dad's Quirk out, the two Quirks mutated with you so, Your Quirk is called Second chance: you can bring people back from the dead, (like the Piemaker from pushing up daisies) when you touch them, but only once, you touch them again they rapidly decay and turn into dust...Though it varies depending on how long they’ve been reanimated for, recently deceased people don’t decay they just drop dead. Unfortunately you found this out the hard way with your mom... and now you're boyfriend.]

No one knew that your mom was part of the league let alone it's leader's wife! At least that what your parents had thought! You and your mom were at the park together after grocery shopping, Your mom called you from the bench she was sitting on telling you it was time to go home! You said okay and ran over to her when suddenly there was a loud pop! and you felt something wet and sticky hit your cheek... your fingers grazed and saw red, and your mommy was on ground surrounded by red, not moving which confused you.

Your [y/ec] watched as parents ran around grabbing their kids and ran from the park, then it was time to go and patted your mommy's telling her to wake up. "C'mon mommy time to go!" she let out a gasp and shot up looking at you stunned, then down at herself she was shot in the chest and was still bleeding! why wasn't she healing? how is she... Your mom was snapped out of her frantic state by the sound of men shouting.

"She's still alive!" she hissed and snapped at you to run! as she got up and followed you while calling your dad telling him what was happening, when she saw you run into the road and grabbed your hand... next thing you knew you were under your mothers body as the men who were chasing you both caught up, they saw your mom not moving and figure she finally bled out, thought one of them was voicing his confusion; he said he was sure he had shot her with a Quirk erasing bullet?

"What do we do wit' the brat?" they were fighting over whether they should kill you or take you to their boss? when this purple haze suddenly appeared behind them, before they could react two hands shot out of the haze and wrapped their necks, there were no screams as the men’s bodies decayed into dust, then you father walked out the portal. 

His red eyes widened in horror as he lost all the strength in his body and fell to his knees in aguish, when he thought was looking at the bodies of his wife and child... until he heard you whimper and sob, he gasped and carefully removed your mother's dead body to find you alive, crying and cover in blood but otherwise unharmed...

Shigaraki let out out a choked sob as you got up and hugged him, his arms froze realizing he didn't have his gloves and couldn't hug you back! until someone held his gloves out in front of him, he looked up and saw Dabi looking at him with an unreadable expression, he put them on and held onto you, then turned away knowing what the cremator intend to do. "I'll be sure bring back some of her ashes for the brat..." he said calmly your dad just nodded somberly and carried you through the portal...

It was three months after your mother's death when your dad found out about your Quirk, you had brought your cat back to life after it was hit by a car, but then it died again when you went to pet it, he realized what had happened to your mom... but, he didn't blame you how could you have known? you didn't even realize your Quirk had manifest. he did however become very very protective and forbid you from using your Quirk unless he says it was okay.

Ten years later

Your dad was in his room playing God of War, when you barged in with a panic look on your face. "What?" he asked pausing his game very shocked as you always knock before coming in. "Uh...Do you have any spare Quirk cancelling gloves?" you asked timidly as your dad's red eyes narrowed. "Why?..." then his eyes widened he saw your hands covered in blood "did you use it?!" he snapped standing at his full height just as your boyfriend staggered in missing an arm and looking like he got mauled by a bear... well hell!

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Dabi:

[Your mom's Quirk is called fairy-lights she can make little balls of light appear out of the palm of her hands that float around when she blows on them, the lights are pretty to look at, but are actually made up of a very combustible gases, which makes it very compatible with Dabi's Cremation, Your Quirk is called: Will-o-Wisp which works like your mom's you can make little blue fireballs manifest from your hands that float around, you can make them explode by snapping your fingers.]

It was winter and you had accidently set your clubhouse on fire! you didn't know how to tell your parents about it, because you thought they'd be mad! so you hid in the wood behind the house, and course they freaked out when they saw the shed a smoldering mess! and you nowhere in sight!

Your mom was screaming and crying your name while digging through the wreckage, While Dabi was just frozen he was standing; staring blankly what was essentially his entire damn world shattering before his eyes; it became hard to breath for him as he felt blood tears dripping down his cheeks, before something told him to look at the ground... he gasped seeing little footsteps in the snow leading into wooded area behind the house.

He called out to your mom and the two of them followed the tracks before finding you hiding out in a hollowed tree crying both your parents where in hysterics as the you scooped you into their arms and started hugging and kissing you like it was their last day on earth, of course you were still scared they were gonna be mad you wrecked the shed.

"Firefly... we don't give a flying rat's ass about some shoddy ass shed!" Dabi said with a tremor in his voice as he calmed down kissing your forehead, Your mom butted in "What we care about is you! do you have any idea how scared we were when we thought you were still in there?!" then your dad noticed your hands, your mittens...they were burnt from the inside. You mom noticed too, they locked eyes then looked back at you.

He asked how the fire happened as he had made sure there were no chemicals or anything flammable inside that shed; Dabi was sure of it when he fixed it! Your mom asked if any of her patrons gave you matches or something? 

You shook your head then bit you lip as your parents kept trying to coaxed you into talking, before bring your hand up and away from your face, Your parents watched as these little blue fire balls manifested in your hand and floated about three feet away before blowing up! sending little sparks everywhere.

Luckily the snow kept the forest from igniting into an inferno, Both your parents were in shock, they expected you to have either a fire-quirk or a chemical-quirk, not a hybrid of the two, and strong one at that! Dabi saw your hand smoking and he took what little remined of you mittens off, and much to his relief you had inherited You know who's heat resistance, don't get him wrong he still hates he who will not named, but he's just glad you won't look like you'll be starring in the next Tim Burton movie anytime soon...

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Katsuki:

[You inherited your mom's quirk Freeze-Frame, it's a time manipulation Quirk that can pause people and objects by clapping your hands or snapping your fingers and keeping your eyes on them (though your Quirk is much stronger then your mom's as you can freeze things at farther range and longer time frame than she can...) ]

You were about to be hit by a out of control truck during hero visit event at your pre-school, Katsuki saw it at the last second and realized he wouldn't be able to get to you in time! but something stunning happen before you were a smear on the road, there was a loud *CLAP!* 

The truck suddenly stopped, at least that what it looked like to everyone else, Katsuki noticed the truck was starting to move, and immediately launched himself in the air towards you; scooping you up just in time the second your eyes were off that truck it wrapped around the tree you'd standing in front of mere seconds before!

Katsuki wrapped his arms around you and tucked rolled as the two of you hit the ground, He came to sliding halt before starring up at the clear blue sky in shock over what just happened. "Dad...Y-you're crushing me!" your voice whimpered snapping Katsuki out of his stupor, and realizing he had you in a bone crushing bear hug...

He suddenly let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, before sitting up and holding you at arms length, he look at the truck then back at you. "Are you hurt?" he croaked keeping his eyes on you checking for any pain or distress in your [y/ec] eyes you shook your head and he has shaking as he pulled you into another tight hug.

Katsuki didn't let go of you and signed you out school as the event was cancelled, when he got home he decided to get his mind off of what happened by testing your newly manifested quirk, by throwing a foam dodgeball at you and ordering you to clap to stop it from hitting you.

Of course he forgot to tell your mother about what had happened! So, when she walked through the front door, Katsuki got one look at her face and knew he was sleeping on the couch tonight!

[writingwithacupoftea]

A family reunited - part 2!

Summary: The time has come for Y/N Shelby to explain her five-year disappearance to her family. Tommy, her beloved elder brother, proves to be less than understanding...

Word Count: 3220

A/N: 300 followers?? I still can’t believe it. I know this part 2 has been a long time coming, so I hope it serves as enough of a thank you 😘 I’ve never written a sequel to a fic before, so I don’t know how this will go down, but I hope you like it!! 💜💜

Part 1

Y/N Shelby had loved seeing her family again, she really did: it had been what she'd dreamed of for so long, just for them to know that she was alive had brought her happiness.

What she didn't love was Tommy's booming wake-up call of "FAMILY MEETING AT THE SHOP IN AN HOUR - DON'T BE LATE," at half past 8 in the morning.

Ah, but she sort of did at the same time.

Thinking back to the night before, Y/N found a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading throughout her body and a smile spread across her face as she snuggled back into her pillow. Her eyes began to close again, tempting a few more minutes sleep – surely she would still make the meeting in time?  

At the thought of the meeting, however, Y/N suddenly found herself wide awake as she realised what the meeting would be for: she was going to have to explain herself. Y/N was going to have to tell everyone why she disappeared for so many years and what happened in that time. Her stomach began to churn and her mind started to race, trying to hurriedly plan out what she would say, but unsure where to even begin.  

Y/N was proud of her work as a spy during the war, but that didn't mean that she was looking forward to reliving some of the details of her story.

Knowing that there was no point in delaying the inevitable for longer than necessary, she dragged herself out of bed and sent up a little prayer for the strength that she so desperately needed.

***

As Y/N walked into the meeting an hour later, she noticed the change in Tommy immediately. Gone was the loving brother that had spent the entire evening practically glued to her hip, and in his place was the cold leader of the Peaky Blinders that Polly had told her about upon her return to Birmingham.  

Whilst in hiding, Y/N had seen the impact that the war had had on the men who fought in France, but that didn't stop her heart from breaking slightly as she properly looked at Tommy in the light of day. He had always been quiet and controlled, but never to this extent.

She sat down at the table, and soon enough the whole family were gathered. Y/N couldn't bear to look at them, even though she hadn't said a thing yet. She feared their judgement, and was petrified that they would kick her out when she'd only just got back.  

But Y/N knew that in order for this to go the way that she wanted it to, she couldn't afford to let thoughts like that show. Instead, she needed to make it clear to her brothers that she still stood by her decision to leave. She had been made stronger by her mistakes and experiences during her time away, and refused to let them believe otherwise.  

So, as Tommy cleared his throat to begin speaking, Y/N took a deep breath and looked up.

"Right, well, we're all here - "

"That we are!" Arthur's hand came down and rested on her shoulder roughly, causing Y/N to smile in amusement.

"Yes, thank you, Arthur." Tommy's gruff voice cut through the joy. "So, Y/N, would you care to tell us where the fuck you've been for five years?"

Out of instinct, the woman in question met her older brother's blue eyes, hoping to find the comfort and support that they had always shown to her in the days before the war. But there was nothing; not even the slightest bit of love, or encouragement, or anger or anything.

In that moment, Y/N realised that no one could help her – only she could tell the story.

And so, she began...

***

A couple of hours later, it was finally over.

Y/N had told them all about how she had been recruited as a British spy, recounted most of her tales (but not all – some of them were still highly confidential and as much as she loved Arthur and John, Y/N wouldn't trust them with a barge pole when it came to keeping secrets), and eventually about her time in hiding and return to Birmingham.

Miraculously, she hadn't shed a single tear. Not even when she'd recounted the worst trappings and beatings. Before coming down to the meeting, Y/N had debated whether or not to tell her family about those times, but in the end she knew that the full truth would come out in time and that it would be better to get all of the pain out of the way at once. Whether that pain was for Y/N or everyone else, she wasn't sure.

But Y/N also hadn't been able to suppress her laughs and smiles at the happier memories: the friends that she'd made, the clubs that she'd danced at undercover, the boys that she'd seduced whether as part of her mission or just for a bit of fun (Tommy may appear to be an expert at controlling his emotions now, but you bet that Y/N didn't miss his jaw clench in protective anger several times).

Now, silence filled the room. A silence that seemed to last for eternity for Y/N. Unable to cope with it for any longer, she spoke again, this time unable to control the waiver of emotion in her voice: "Please say something, anything. You lot have always got something to say," Y/N finished with a slight laugh. Unknowingly, she had directed her words at Tommy, who was staring at her, his eyes as cold as ice. Y/N hated the fact that she sounded like a little girl again, seeking his approval; Tommy's opinion had always been important to her, no matter how many times she had vehemently denied the fact when she was younger.

Surprisingly to her, it was John who spoke first, looking at her directly as he did so. "We're proud of you, Y/N/N."

"Yeah," Arthur continued, gruffly. "Just a fucking lot to take in, is all."

Silence infiltrated the room once more, only cushioned by Polly reaching over to grasp her niece's hand tightly.

Realising that Tommy wasn't going to speak any time soon, Y/N stood up as if to leave, her chair screeching horribly across the floor. "Well if that's it, I'll go and -"

"Why?" Her second eldest brother cut her off. Even though her back was now turned, Y/N felt his gaze burning into her.

"Why?" She repeated, confused, as she turned around.

"You heard me. Why did you go?"

"Christmas had long gone, Tommy. I needed to do something other than sit around in Small fucking Heath waiting for you lot to come back. I tried to help with the business, you know I have ideas. But I got nowhere because I'm a woman, alright? So, when an opportunity arose to go and do something useful, of course I was going to jump at it."

Tommy scoffed. "Do you realise how fucking selfish you sound?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Even after you knew that the war wouldn't be ending any time soon, you still went gallivanting off, throwing yourself headfirst into danger. Did you not stop to think that this family could have lost another member? You clearly didn't, because apparently all that matters to you is getting a rush of adrenaline and trying to be the hero."

Crack. The sound of Y/N's open palm meeting Tommy's cheek echoed through the room.

"How dare you, Thomas Shelby." Y/N's voice was deadly quiet, her rage and feelings of betrayal bubbling ferociously inside of her. "How fucking dare you. After everything that I've just told you, you have the nerve to stand there and call me selfish? I knew that when I signed up there was a chance that I might not come back, but I did it anyway, you're right. I did it in the hopes that my work may help to end the bloody war sooner, so that it was more likely that you boys would come home alive. Because if none of you came back, have you thought, Thomas, how wrecked this family would be? Not just emotionally, but financially as well. There would be three women, Finn, and John's kids left and that would be it. We would hardly be able to bring enough money in to keep everyone safe and together forever, at least not until the children had grown up. As much as you might not like it, Tommy, that I knowingly put myself in a situation where I could've been killed, I did it to try and protect this family."

If Y/N had looked around at her family at that moment, she would have witnessed the shock and pain etched onto the face of each person around the table. None of them had realised that she had put so much thought into her decision to leave. Instead her eyes were locked with those of her brother, unwilling to back down.

Breaking the silence, Y/N added bitterly, "Still think I'm selfish, Thomas?"

She didn't know what she'd expected.  

Y/N knew that Tommy wouldn't take it all well, and whilst his instinct to protect her and make sure that she was safe typically overrode everything else, she had hoped that he would have at least understood her reasons behind her actions. He had always said that family came before anything else. So, when Tommy barged past her, storming out of the shop and slamming the door behind him, Y/N couldn't help the sob that escaped her.

***

Dusk had settled over the city. Y/N was sat by the Cut, mulling over the events of the last 48 hours.

After Tommy had left, she had broken down completely, letting out all of the emotion that she had kept pent-up for so long. Her siblings, aunt and cousin had told her that Tommy would come around, and that they would do anything that they could for her.  

But, as much as she adored her entire family, she needed Tommy; she needed the brother who had stood by her through thick and thin, who had always trusted her judgement and always loved her no matter what. She hadn't realised how much she had needed him until he had turned his back on her completely.

When most of her tears had dried, Y/N left the shop herself, murmuring a quick "I'll be back later" before she did. The family had let her go, knowing that she needed the time and space to process everything and calm down.

A few hours later, she did feel calmer as she took in the familiar surroundings (a hidden spot next to the Cut that her and Tommy had found when they were younger and hiding from their father). That was until she heard footsteps quickly approaching her from behind...

***

Tommy's mind was racing at a mile a minute.

Once again, he'd gone and ruined things with his family. He'd probably destroyed his relationship with Y/N for good, something that he couldn't bear the thought of losing. His little sister meant the world to him; it just hurt him to know that she had been through so much by herself, and that he hadn't been able to stop it. At least in the trenches he'd had his brothers by his side. Y/N had no one.

But he could help her now. He had realised that after hiding himself away in the Garrison with his thoughts. He'd realised that his place was now back by his sister's side once more.

Tommy had made his way back to the shop to try and make amends, and marched straight over to Polly. "Where is she?" His voice may not have shown it to his aunt, but she could see the emotion in his eyes. Polly was glad that her nephew seemed to have got some of his sense back, but she sure as hell wasn't going to make things easy for him. Tommy's behaviour had been despicable, after all.

"She left." Polly said, simply, returning to her work.

"Left?"

"You heard me, Thomas." God, how many times was he going to be full-named today?

"Left where?"

"She didn't say."

Tommy felt a niggle of anxiety stirring in him. "Well, did she say when she'd be back?"

"No." Polly's lips were pursed in irritation.

"You let her wander off alone, I take it, without asking where she was going or what she was doing, eh? Do you know how fucking stupid that is? We've only just got her back, and you're risking losing her again?"

"Perhaps you should listen to your own words. At least I wasn't the one who caused her to have a panic attack." It was harsh, but partly true: the combination of the memories and Tommy's reaction had caused Y/N to spiral.

Tommy froze, worry and guilt consuming him. How could he have let this happen? He had spent half of the night in Y/N's bedroom last night, making sure that she was real and safe, and now she was gone again.

Walking back out of the shop, Tommy found himself hiding in an alleyway, trying to collect his thoughts as his hands shook. Where could Y/N be? Where would she go when she was scared and upset?

Suddenly, he knew.

***

The hurried footsteps drew nearer, and instinct took over Y/N's entire being. She spun around, gun cocked and pointed straight at the source of the noise, her breathing speeding up again as the last ebbs of her panic attack began escalating quickly again.

Any relief that Tommy had felt at finding his sister faded at seeing her distressed state. He raised his hands slowly and spoke softly to her: "It's okay, Y/N/N. It’s just me, it's Tommy. You're home, you're safe." As he continued to offer his reassurances that she wasn't under threat and edged closer to her, he noticed recognition begin to sweep over Y/N.

Her gun clattered to the ground as she broke down into tears again, relaxing into her brother's embrace as he sat down next to her and pulled the young woman into his arms. In that moment, Tommy realised how broken his sister was, how much the war had affected her, just like him.

Eventually, Y/N's breathing became normal again, the sound of Tommy's heartbeat and the gentle hand stroking her hair grounding her.

After a few moments, Tommy mustered up the courage to say the words that had been on repeat in his head for so long. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that had him wrapped around her little finger. "I was...overwhelmed and I lashed out, even though you didn't deserve it. Hell, you probably even saved our lives at some point and all I do is call you selfish. I went too far, and I'm sorry."

Y/N smirked slightly at Tommy's obvious discomfort at his confession, but it melted into a gentle smile when she looked up and was met with his loving yet troubled gaze.

"Thank you, Tommy." His entire demeanour relaxed at these words. "Do you understand though? Do you understand why I did it all in the first place? Do you understand why your reaction broke me? All I needed was for my brother to be there, and you just walked out on me. You promised me that you never would. You promised."

Tommy took her hand tightly in his larger one and nodded slightly, a lump forming in his throat. His other hand settled in his coat pocket as he asked: "Are you really back to stay?" The vulnerability that had been uncovered again last night had now returned.

"Yeah, I am." Y/N squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean you're completely forgiven yet though; speak to me like that again and I'll cut you a smile on that grumpy face."

Tommy breathed out a slight laugh, despite the threat (which he knew was an honest one). "Oh, I missed you, darling." He wrapped his arm around Y/N and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Missed you too, Tom."

***

The siblings sat there, peacefully, for a little while longer. Whilst part of Y/N was still angry at her brother, she couldn’t deny that she felt at home back by his side, in their special childhood hiding place. So, for now, she decided to put her anger behind her.

Soon enough, the chill of the night air began to settle around them. Tommy offered Y/N a hand up and wrapped his long black coat tightly around her, before the pair slowly started walking back towards the streets of Birmingham.

“I promise I’ll try and be better, for you.” Tommy’s voice cut through the silence. I can’t bear the thought of you leaving again because I pushed you out, he added in his head.

Y/N smiled sadly. “Don't make promises you might not be able to keep, Tom. We’re different people compared to who we used to be. All we can do is try, eh?”

Tommy stopped off at the office to call Polly and let her know that Y/N was staying with him for the night. Y/N found herself looking around the big building, in awe of what her family had managed to achieve.

She plunged her hands in the big pockets of Tommy's coat as a shiver wracked her body, frowning when her fingers touched something familiar. Checking that her brother was still on the phone, she pulled the object out and her eyes widened in surprise as she stared at it. It was a small stuffed toy, shaped to resemble a horse (sort of, it was definitely handmade).  

Y/N had loved it when she was younger, and barely used to be seen without it. When she grew into a teenager, she had hidden the toy in her old childhood treasure box and retrieved it when she felt low, even as she had entered adulthood. She had been devastated when she couldn't find it to comfort her the day that her brothers had left for France.

The horse was more frayed and tattered than she remembered, and dirtier too. Y/N had always been meticulous for looking after her possessions, not having much of her own.  

Then the explanation for its state and whereabouts dawned on Y/N: Tommy had taken it to France and kept it with him ever since, a constant reminder of her.

Placing the toy carefully back where she found it, Y/N looked through the glass to Tommy’s office with tears in her eyes as he hung up the phone. A small smile flickered across his face as he caught sight of his sister and made his way straight to her, not a single piece of work in his hands.

"Come on," Tommy said, softly. "Let's go home."

As her brother subtly offered her his arm, Y/N felt optimistic about the future for the first time in years. As Tommy rested his hand on top of hers, which now sat in the crook of his arm, one thought crossed Y/N's mind:

Maybe Tommy would try. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

But the Shelby family knew that there was hope, because Tommy's guiding light always came in the form of Y/N Shelby...and she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

[justalitlecreacher]

Anakin Skywalker Deserved Better

Ive made this post before but it was really rough and i meant to edit it later and its later now but its been so long that i don’t feel like finding the og post so here we are. If it’s not obvious i care more than a normal amount about Anakin Skywalker.

Tl;Dr: I firmly believe that there are so many points in the prequel series, the clone wars, and even the comics that some level of intervention could have steered Anakin away from falling in Revenge of the Sith.

The Phantom Menace 

This is our first encounter with Anakin, and it does a decent job at introducing us to him. This movie sets up his tragic backstory™️ and gives us a good look at his personality; Anakin appears selfless and eager to help complete strangers in return for nothin when he first brings Qui-Gon and crew to his home to give them shelter, and then risks his life in the podrace to help them afford the part they need to fix their ship. Aside from introducing and developing Anakin not much else happens until Qui-Gon brings Anakin before the Jedi Council where they decide he is too old and there is already too much anger in him to be trained as a Jedi. Qui-Gon disagress, but we move on to Naboo where 9-year old Anakin blows up a very large ship all; by himslef w/ autopilot ( they grow up so fast), Qui-Gon dies, and we get our first look at Palpatine being creepy in hindsight, “And you, young Skywalker, we will watch your career with great interest.” not all that weird out of context but uncomfy when you remember who Palpatine is.

Before we move on i actually want to flashback to Anakin’s first encounter with the Jedi Council. For a group of people who constantly take in and raise children, the Jedi seem to do a poor job interacting with them. A kind of infuriating thing about this scene is that the Jedi seem to shame Anakin for being afraid (no matter how much Anakin himself denies that fear). This scene does a really good job at setting up how the Jedi consistently fail to take into account that Anakin is fundamentally incapable of being a “normal” Jedi. Anakin has had a fundamentally different childhood than any other Jedi and absolutely needed more help and support than the average Padawan from the very beginning. Granted it is possible that the Jedi tried to get him the help and support he needed, but if they did we can infer they failed from Dooku’s line in Revenge of the Sith, “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker. You have hate, you have anger, but you don’t use them.”

Obi-Wan And Anakin Comic

The Obi-Wan and Anakin comics take place sometime between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones. The story focuses on Anakin and Obi-Wan investigating a distress signal on a planet that has been destroyed by war. The comic also flashes back to reveal that Anakin is thinking of leaving the Jedi Order after Palpatine shows him the dark side of Coruscant, and tells him that neither the Jedi nor the Senate will be able to do anything about it. We get more creepy (not just in hindsight this time) moments out of Palpatine here. The first one is when he uses his position as Chancellor to gain access to Anakin under the guise of “helping” him.  “Why young Skywalker is a Jedi, is he not? The Jedi are under the Senate’s jurisdiction. And as I am the Chancellor of the Senate...”. Palpatine proceeds to take Anakin to a club of some kind where they see a corrupt senator gambling; Palpatine also mentions how “Lives are bought and sold here everyday” he then makes a show of apologizing for bringing it up considering Anakin’s past.Without context this would seem harmless enough, but with the context of Palpatine’s true identity it is more likely a ploy to subelty remind Anakin of how the Jedi and Senate are unable or unwilling to intervene on Tatooine or the rest of the Outer Rim. Palpatine reminding Anakin of the Senate and Jedi’s inability to help everyone seems to be a running theme in their meeting as the series continues. 

Aside from Palpatine being a creep; we see that Anakin is still just as willing and eager to help as he was in The Phantom Menace. His skills in mechanics result in him being briefly kidnapped so that he can fix weapons that will help one side to win the war that has destroyed the planet. Seriously Anakin is just so ernest in these comics that i shed tears because i know how his story ends. 

One character that Obi-Wan and Anakin team up with to reach the distress signal first mistakes Anakin for Obi-Wan’s son, and then tells Obi-Wan, “He [Anakin] doesn’t think so. Kid idolizes you. You can see it” when Obi-Wan admits that he’s not sure he is the best suited to teach Anakin, and fears he has failed him in some way. As the story progresses, it is revealed in a flashback that after Anakin told Obi-Wan he wanted to leave the Order, Yoda sent the two of them on the mission they are currently on to give Anakin a chance to reconsider his decision, and Obi-Wan tells Yoda that if Anakin returned from the mission still wanting to leave the Order, Obi-Wan would leave with him to continue his training and keep his promise to Qui-Gon. 

Attack of the Clones

Back to the movies. Attack of the Clones reunites Obi-Wan and Anakin with Padmé Amidala when they are assigned to protect her from an assassin. One of ( if not the) most important elements to this movie are Anakin’s dreams/visions of his mother. Towards the beginning of the movie Anakin doesn’t explicitly say what the dreams are about, but it can be assumed that the dreams are unpleasant as he says, “I don't sleep well anymore.” in response to Obi-Wan commenting on him looking tired; going on to claim that he cannot sleep because of his dreams. Anakin later admits to Padmé that he worries about his mother. This is one of the key moments in Anakin’s life that set him up to fall in Revenge of the Sith. There is no reason i can think of that Anakin should not have been allowed to check on his mother if he was having dreams about her that prevented him from sleeping properly and made him worry for her safety. As Anakin says, “Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life, so you might say we're encouraged to love.”. If compassion truly is central to a Jedi’s life, then surely they could at the very least send one of their 10,000 Jedi to check on Anakin’s mother if he could not? Is it compassion to deny someone the help they need? I find it hard to believe that Anakin would not have told Obi-Wan that he was worried about his mother going off of how close they appear to be in the previous comic. Especially after Anakin responds to Obi-Wan joking about Anakin being the death of him one day with, “Don't say that Master... You're the closest thing I have to a father... I love you. I don't want to cause you pain.” 

Anakin and Padmé arrive too late to save Shmi, and she dies in Anakin’s arms. This is a crucial moment leading up to Anakin’s fall as it shows Anakin that his dreams have a very real potential of coming true and likely results in him blaming himself at least partially for not insisting on checking on his mother or getting there sooner or doing anything different that may have allowed her to survive; it’s also the first time we see Anakin really lose control. There have been instances of him lashing out in anger before (turning a pair of padawans’ lightsabers against them when he hears them making fun of him behind his back), but nothing like what happens in the wake of Shmi’s death. Anakin wipes out the entire village of Tusken Raiders; children included. And while Anakin does express genuine remorse for his actions, he never faces consequences for them. It’s not even clear if anyone but Padmé ever finds out; Yoda claims to feel Anakin’s pain in the wake of his mother’s death, but does not appear to see Anakin’s actions, and is not shown to discuss what happened on Tatooine with Anakin at all.

Some light googling on my part revealed that in the novelization of Attack of the Clone, while Anakin did tell Obi-Wan about his mother’s death it was Padmé who told Obi-Wan how she had died, but Obi-Wan is unaware of what happened afterwards. “Anakin had told him of Shmi’s death; that was why he and Padmé had gone to Tatooine, he said. Obi-Wan had talked to Padmé later, and she had explained that Shmi had been kidnapped and killed by Tusken Raiders. Neither of them had been willing to go into much detail, and from what Obi-Wan knew of the Tusken Raiders, he didn’t blame them. It was no wonder Anakin seemed shaken, if his mother had been tortured and killed. One day, perhaps, Anakin would be willing to tell him the whole story.” Obi-Wan appears to know that there is more to the story than he has been told, but it content to wait until Anakin is ready to talk about it. I wonder if they ever had that conversation.

Anakin’s inability to save his mother even after the warnings he receives in his dreams likely leads to his desperation to save Padmé form the danger he believes her to be in later in Revenge of the Sith. He has been shown once before that his dreams can easily come true, and he is desperate to prevent this dream from coming true no matter what the cost may be. 

The Clone Wars

This is gonna be a long one; it’s gonna have to cover the most relevant episodes of The Clone Wars and oh boy that’s not a small amount. Im gonna try to go chronologically but bear with me (if you actually read this far you know what you got yourself into)

Assassin s3ep7

In this episode Ahsoka begins having visions of Padmé being assassinated similarly to how Anakin dreamed of his mother’s and later Padmé’s deaths. The difference with Ahsoka is that she is able to prevent the visions from becoming reality.  What i want to focus on in this episode is the reaction Ahsoka gets when she tells Yoda about her dreams. Yoda explains to her that her dream may be telling her something and provides her with the means to act on her visions to prevent them from becoming true.

When Anakin approaches Yoda about his dreams in Revenge of the Sith, Yoda simply tells him that death is natural and he must train himself to let go of everything he fears to lose. We could chalk this up to just a writing inconsistency, but i dont think i will. I would instead like to wonder why Yoda treats Ahsoka’s visions like they are something that can be changed but then treats Anakin’s like they are set in stone. Anakin has already proven himself capable of having true visions, and is more force sensitive than any other living Jedi. It makes no sense to dismiss Anakin’s feelings like this. All this to say looking into and helping Anakin to examine his dreams instead of telling him to let go when he has proven over and over to be incapable of doing so would likely have been significantly more helpful in the long run.

The Mortis Arc S3 Ep15-17

Honestly i dont have a lot to say on this arc aside how much psychic damage it dealt to see Anakin briefly turn to the dark side because he was so desperate o avoid the future The Son had shown him ( really hope everyone had the common sense not to bring that up to Anakin after the fact though).

 The Deception Arc S4 Ep15+18

In this arc Obi-Wan fakes his death in order to go undercover as the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen and uncover a plot to kidnap the Chancellor. This wouldn’t be a problem if they had brought Anakin in on the plan; instead they use Anakin’s reaction to Obi-Wan’s “death” to better sell the illusion. Obi-Wan even says, “Keeping Anakin on the outside was critical. Everyone knows how close we are. It was his reaction that sold the sniper. I'm sure of it.” Obi-Wan and the Council are fully aware of how much Obi-Wan means to Anakin, yet they all decide to use those feelings to their own advantage with little regard for the consequences.

On top of betraying Anakin’s trust; this move leads Anakin to doubt the Jedi Council and wonder what else they may be keeping from him if they  were willing to let him believe that Obi-Wan was dead as long as it suited their interests. “How many other lies have I been told by the Council? And how do you know that you even have the whole truth?”. 

I just cannot imagine why they thought they even had to use Obi-Wan for this plan. In the Obi-Wan and Anakin comic, Obi-Wan claims that there are 10,000 Jedi; surely there is someone less connected or with less attention on them who would be more suited to go undercover without the element of faking their death. Or if faking their death was necessary, surely they could have picked a Jedi who was not closely attached to arguably the most emotionally unstable Jedi in the Order. Anyone else would have been better. I don’t doubt that Anakin was telling the truth when he said, “If it was up to me I would kill you right here! But lucky for you, the man you murdered would rather see you rot in jail.”.

The Deception Arc just really grinds my gears because it really is almost like the Council wants Anakin to fall. There really is no excuse for how they use his bond with Obi-Wan against him for their own gain. The Council and Obi-Wan know full well how much Anakin loves Obi-Wan (see Anakin referring to Obi-Wan as the closest thing he has to a father in Attack of the Clones), and chose to use this vulnerability against Anakin in the worst way possible. 

This arc really sets Anakin to later doubt Obi-Wan and the Council in Revenge of the Sith, and make it easier for Palpatine to convince Anakin that no Jedi would understand him and that they would likely kick him out of the order and not help him. ( heck he even has a recent memory of the Jedi expelling a 14 year old from the Order for the sake of not looking bad in the eyes of the Senate. “I understand your sentiment, Obi-Wan, but if the Council does as you suggest, it could be seen as an act of opposition to the Senate. I'm afraid we have little choice.” i might go more in depth on this one later but this doesn’t feel like the right place as this is a post about Anakin and i don’t want to make and Ahsoka centric arc all about him).  

That wraps up the Clone Wars! Finally!

Revenge of the Sith

Ok big finale. Revenge of the Sith; so close to being my favorite Star Wars movie, but it almost made me cry in the library so its my second favorite (Attack of the Clones is my favorite). 

I’ve already touched on the dreams Anakin has of Padmé’s death in the Clone Wars segment, but it bears repeating and i have more to touch on. Im not 100% if im misremembering or not but i cannot recall Anakin ever explicitly telling Palpatine about his dreams, but Palpatine knows that Anakin fears for Padmé’s life anyway. It’s possible that Anakin just told him off screen but a fic i read recently ( It’s called give me one more night by Spongyllama on AO3 and it is so worth the read) introduced me to the theory that it had been Palpatine sending Anakin the dreams to begin with.

This theory has a good amount of legs to stand on honestly. As mentioned previously, Anakin never tells Palpatine about his dreams, but Palpatine still knows exactly what to tell Anakin to best manipulate him. Furthermore; Anakin’s dreams very likely would never have come true if Anakin hadn’t fallen; Padmé reportedly dies of heartbreak, something that could not have happened had Anakin not fallen. All signs point to Palpatine being behind the dreams (and we know that Anakin and Palpatine are close by the time Attack of the Clones occurs so it’s not out of question that Anakin may have told Palpatine about the dreams about his mother, giving Palpatine the idea to use those dreams against him later)

Conclusion

Honestly the biggest thing i think the Jedi could have improved on was just trying to understand Anakin better. The average age for entering the order is 2 to 3 compared to Anakin’s 9. Anakin entered the order years after any other Jedi, and because of that was able to remember his mother and had formed attachments (or attachment but i digress) before he had even reached the order. It should have been obvious from the start that if Anakin were to ever become a successful Jedi he would need significantly more help than the usual padawan.

We frequently see Anakin scolded for forming attachments or being too emotional (see Clone Wars s1e6-7 where R2-D2 goes missing and Anakin suggests taking a squad out to look for him “Anakin, it's only a droid. You know attachment is not acceptable for a Jedi.”(Obi-Wan) “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”(Yoda). etc etc)  But, to the best of my knowledge, we never really see anyone showing Anakin how to let go. Anakin lacks the tools he needs to properly deal with his emotions, so the best he can do is shove them down and pretend they don’t exist because to him that’s what a proper Jedi does. No one has ever told him otherwise. The explosion was inevitable.

Anakin Skywalker was a traumatized child who was most likely never taken to therapy or told how to deal with/ healthily show his emotions in any way other than to ignore them or push them aside on top of being manipulated by Sith Lord from a young age. With all these factors is it really a surprise that Palpatine was able to turn him?

ok im done; see yall next time ig

[glamrock-machina-au]

Found Ch 3

Long post under the cut. TW for body horror.

Both Freddy, and Monty made their way back to the apartment as quickly as they could, not wanting to stay out in the rain for much longer, nor wanting to risk any other machines picking up Gregory's scent. Once they were inside, they headed up the stairs towards the apartment. It was the biggest one the landlord could offer for them at the time. It wasn't much, but it would do for now.

Monty pulled the keys out from his jacket pocket, and unlocked the door before opening it for the bear. The moment they were inside, they took off their jackets, locked the door, and closed the blinds and curtains. They were taking every precaution to prevent Gregory from being discovered. Freddy's main concern right now was to arrange sleeping arrangements for Gregory. His bed was likely too tall for the boy to sleep in, but he could at least give the boy something more comfortable to sleep on. He grabs a few spare blankets, and pillows before setting them on the couch. One of the members of the gang will have to go shopping for something for Gregory to sleep in.

Meanwhile, Monty was calling for the others. He felt that the others needed to see this, but he had to be careful about this. This could go very badly, very quickly. He didn't want the boy to be petrified of them. Although, he was sure that the damage was likely already done. He wasn't entirely sure if the boy would ever trust them after the.. incident at the pizza plex. Hopefully, Freddy would be able to coax the kid into trusting them. The boy was rather fond of the bear, so perhaps Gregory would be more willing to trust Freddy's word over the gator's.

Everyone immediately made room for the biggest member of the family, DJ, or as that was who he preferred to be called at least. Seemed he wasn't the only one who wanted to keep their original identity. In Machina, one has a choice to pick their own name or keep their old one. It was symbolic of leaving one's old life behind, and beginning another one. Glamrock Freddy, or Bruce, to some, had chosen to do this. Monty respected the bear's decision, and perhaps Gregory could want a new identity. A symbol of being reborn from one body into another.

Freddy nodded to Monty in gratitude, grateful he gathered the others for him while he made the place a little more comfortable for the boy. Roxanne crossed her arms.

"What is it? Did you get in contact with another client? Or is our current one cutting ties with us?" The wolf raised an eyebrow at the bear. Freddy shook his head, absentmindedly resting a paw on his abdomen on the doors of his hatch.

"No, that is not why you were called here. We found a familiar face. One you will probably recognize instantly. We do not know how he ended up here, nor does he know how he has managed to find his way here to begin with. Now please, stay calm, and quiet. I do not want him to be any more frightened than he already has been." Freddy kneeled on the floor, and braced himself for the pain that was about to come. He held back a silent scream of agony as muscle and flesh split and tore when the hatch doors opened. As gruesome as it seemed, there was not a single drop of blood shed during this process. There never was.

Glamrock Chica was the first to approach the open hatch, and peered inside to see Gregory, who was sound asleep. Her eyes grew wide in utter shock, and looked up at Freddy. "Freddy, what is he doing here? You know humans can be dangerous!" she hissed under her breath.

Freddy nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am very aware of that, Chica, but Monty and I could not leave him out in the cold and rain like that. That's immoral. The least we can do is give the boy some much needed warmth, and care. I know he will likely be frightened by most of you, but this could be a chance for all of us to make amends with him. He ended up here for a reason, and we are not going to let this go ignored. We may not know how he managed to travel to our world, but if the divines, the ones responsible for allowing others to travel back and forth through the portals, allowed him to enter, then something is wrong. They wouldn't let any human through their portals.. at least until now." The bear had a fair point. There had not been a single human that had ever been able to travel to Machina until now. Gregory was now the first human to ever see this beautiful, yet so dangerous, world.

Monty nodded in agreement. "This requires Fredbear's input. He would be the only one who would have the slightest idea as to what is going on. Gregory would not have been able to enter Machina without the divines approving, or if he wasn't with a machine from Machina. I will send a letter out to him, and ask for him to check the little guy out." He kept a watchful eye over the chicken and the boy. As if on cue, Gregory began to stir, starting to wake up from the sound of the conversation.

Immediately, Freddy took the boy into his arms, and held the boy close to his chest. He knew the boy would be uneasy around the others, but he could offer Gregory comfort and reassurance when he needed it most. First the boy found himself in an alien land, and now he's surrounded by the very same animatronics that were once bent on killing him. This would certainly lead up to an interesting reunion. It might not be the most pleasant one, but hopefully, the boy would warm up to them in the future.

Gregory opened his eyes, and looked around, blinking the fatigue from his eyes. It took him a few moments for him to register the animatronics in front of him. When he did, he immediately clung to Freddy, eyes wide with fear, and wildly looking around for a way out. He was trapped with the same animatronics that were bent on hunting him down. Almost immediately, he felt Freddy's strong arms hold him tighter to the bear's chest. Gregory couldn't run while in the bear's grip, so he buried his face into the bear's fur instead, trembling.

Chica gently crooned, and rubbed the boy's shoulder as a means to try and comfort the child. "Hey, hey, it's okay.. We're not the same as we were back in your world, we promise. We were.. not ourselves." She knew it was unlikely the boy would trust her words, knowing just all that they had done to him. It certainly wasn't going to be easy to coax the boy into trusting them.

Gregory dared to peek at the animatronics surrounding him. Sun gently pushed his way through the crowd. He had more experience with children than the others. He was just as surprised as the others, but the questions can wait. The boy needed comfort, and warmth. Sun made sure to keep his voice at a low volume, and at a gentle tone.

"Hey, kiddo. Remember us? We're free from what forced us to do what we did to you. I know you're scared, but we're all friendly now, we promise. Otherwise, your old pal Freddy here wouldn't have brought you here to see us. Are you hungry or thirsty, kiddo?" Sun tilted his head to the side slightly. Gregory looked over his shoulder to look at him before nodding. That was good. At least the boy was willing to communicate with him somewhat.

Monty watched over the two as they talked. Hopefully, Sun would be able to get the boy more comfortable around them. He checked the clock. It was almost supper time for them, and it was his turn to cook tonight. "I'll get supper going. How does gumbo sound, little guy? Wanna give it a try?"

He figured the boy would want some comfort food, and what better food to cook during weather like this than that? Gregory seemed to think for a moment, then nodded. Monty smiled gently, and headed for the kitchen before quickly firing up the stove. This could take a little bit, but definitely long enough to let the boy warm up to the others at least a little bit. Only time will tell if the boy would warm up to them or not.

[belovasangel]

Kintsugi

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!GN!Reader

WC: 1641

Summary: Peter needs a push to help an old ally.

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST, hopeful ending

A/N: First off, thank you for reading this. I haven’t written in maybe a year so this might be not the best. I want to shout out Polaroid15 for inspiring me to write. Something else in this fic I should mention, Peter’s identity isn’t exposed and in the Blip he aged according to current-time (so in this he is 18-19)

“In Japanese culture, Kintsugi is the reformative art to repair broken pottery. The shattered pieces are taken and glued back together with a binding agency and gold paint. There is a metaphor between each crack and gold stroke, as the meaning is deeper than restoring a pot. It’s meant to give hope and to empower those who are deemed ‘broken.’ The point is to tell people to embrace their insecurities and you will be okay in the end.”

Peter Parker rolled his eyes and looked back at his notes. The background film of his art history course droned on, as the school stuck the Blipped students into a course to graduate faster. He began to doodle along the sides of the pages, drawing the Spider-Man suit and a few webs. He thought of Ned, sitting on his MIT campus, working on his computer engineering software, and hoped he was thinking of Peter as well. Him and Ned made a pact back in freshman year to attend MIT together and when the Blip hit, Ned kept his promise. And at this rate, Peter will be in their dorm room by March. 

He looked back up at the lecture briefly to watch the credits roll, only to notice afterwards the teacher had fallen asleep at the desk. The other students got the same idea to pack up and leave for the weekend early. Peter began stuffing his notes in his backpack and stood to walk out, only to bump into a fast body.

“Hey-” 

Peter looked up, his backpack falling to the floor in a heavy heap. He looked up angrily, fully expecting Flash to be staring back, however he saw the red-faced (Y/N) staring back with doe eyes. “Peter, I am so sorry...” 

He huffed and shoved (Y/N) back with his shoulder to grab his stuff. “You can leave, ya know? Don’t need to watch me pick up the mess you made.” He audibly heard them gulp and quicken their breathing. With a quick shuffle, they walked out of the class. Peter stood quickly and recalled the events leading to their icy encounter. He can feel sympathetic towards them, as Mr. Stark passed away tragically about a year ago. While Peter has come to terms painfully with his death, he can tell (Y/N) still is struggling. He knows they had a plan to attend Yale or Stanford after this, but those plans have derailed fully. Peter knew (Y/N) wasn’t fully ready to accept they need to grow up and move on. He wouldn’t be the one to put gasoline on an already erupting fire. Hopefully Pepper can say something

He began walking down the halls of the school, remembering the small memories along the halls. Lifting the lockers during Homecoming to get his suit, him and Ned discussing the plans to build the Death Star, and even when MJ first opened her locker next to the two (and immediately asked, “what are you two losers looking at?”). Fond, fond memories. 

Peter hopped on the subway, getting minorly excited to begin patrolling the city. May has plans tonight, he hopes it’s a date so he can spy once or twice, but overall it’s sitting on buildings and eating those amazing subs. The moment Peter stepped into the apartment, May was on him. “Hey, my beautiful boy genius, how was school?”

He laughed as she kissed and pinched his cheeks. “Hey May. It was fine, boring. How are you, need any date prep?” She turned bright red and looked back to the newspaper. “Peter, I told you it’s not a date. Happy and I are-”

“Your date is with Happy?” Peter popped his backpack to the floor with a quick thump. May gave a sheepish look, fully expecting this from him. “Peter I promise you, Happy is super kind and is going to treat me great tonight.”

He sighed, pulling at his hair minorly. “Do I need to chaperone you?” She laughed and shook her head, “we’ll be fine Pete. Anyways, to change the subject, Pepper called you earlier and asked for you to swing by the Tower when you get a chance.” Peter nodded, head still foggy with holy fuck, Happy is going to get with my Aunt.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and ran to his room, changing into his suit and flopping out the window. Within the first few hours, Peter stopped three guys from breaking into cars, saved a cat from a tree and rescued an old lady from oncoming traffic. As the sun was setting, and Peter got to enjoy the sunset with his sub, he decided to call Pepper.

“Hey Pep, what’s going on?”

He could hear her sigh on the other side, and he took a bite in anticipation. “I need your help Peter. And I know you won’t like it.” With a mouthful of spinach, salami and bread, he said muffled, “you can count on me.”

“I need you to help (Y/N).” Peter promptly spit his sub out of his mouth with a sharp cough and inhale. “What? What’s wrong?” Pepper sighed again. “(Y/N) isn’t okay. They’re only leaving their room for school and that’s it. I deliver them breakfast and dinner, we barely talk between the doors. Plus they come home late every night and I need to know what’s going on.”

Peter bit his inner cheek. Of course (Y/N) is being selfish towards Pepper, seems about right. Peter felt like this was a sign, to finally see what’s going on and help Pepper reconnect with her kid. Yet, Peter didn’t want to give (Y/N) any slack. They’re being rude and not grateful for what they have. “Of course, Pepper. I’ll keep you posted. Does K.A.R.E.N. have her location?”

“No, she turned off her location a while ago. Thank you Peter.” He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see. With a quick end, he threw the mask on and dove off the crane. He searched every alley in all of Queens, ever corner store, checked every rooftop and park and bridge and under every car. He found a huge ass tree and even climbed it. Peter didn’t want to let Pepper down, even if he felt more and more annoyed with (Y/N). He knew they wouldn’t leave the city, but this was getting ridiculous. Eventually, around 11:30 P.M., he found them sitting in front of a large mural of Tony. There were flowers along the painting, along with lit candles and teddy bears. Peter felt his blood boiling, knowing they could have had their location on this whole time. 

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N)? Pepper is besides herself worried. You’re being so fucking selfish, leaving her alone every damn night. She is suffering, wondering why her own child won’t talk to her while you’re out here hiding! What are you scared of? Why can’t you grow up? He died! Get over it!”

Peter creeped up closer and closer to them, not listening to the sniffling and heaving breaths of (Y/N). As he reached them, he saw they were hunched over and panting. “What’s wrong? Get up,” Peter sneered as he pulled their shoulder back. He let out a gasp and let go, in complete shock of what he saw. Their face was littered with bruises and cuts. Their right eye was completely swollen and the under eye bags were as dark as the sky. “Are you okay?”

They scoffed and pushed away Peter’s hand, and struggled to get off the ground. Many groans and gasps were shed as they stood slouched. Peter quickly noticed the large gash on their side, and he could tell they were severely injured. “We need to get you to the tower right now, c’mon.” 

As he got closer, (Y/N) stumbled back to avoid his touch. Peter scoffed and tried to reach again, but with the same result. “Stop being stupid and let me help you.” They stopped and let out a large laugh. “Now you fucking care about me, when it will make you look good. I can just imagine Pepper telling me how great and caring you are, and how brave you were to go searching for their lost child. Fuck off with this savior complex, Peter, you can’t save everyone! Some people were meant to suffer and burn and fucking die in the end.”

Peter had never felt so confused in his life. He tried reaching out for the third time and was shut down. They began to walk towards him, fire and tears in their eyes. “Do you have any idea how much fucking pain I feel every day? When my father died, Pepper and I were so shattered, but instead of staying with family she decided to work with you, the great and friendly Spider-Man! Why help your own kin when the prodigy is doing just as bad? I am so sick of living in your shadow Peter! It’s like the universe is telling me I was a mistake! You ruined my life. You are the reason my father is dead. You are the reason I wish it was me instead!”

They fell to their knees in agony, letting out screaming sobs and pained sounds. He quickly recovered, wiping his own tears to comfort them. “I am so sorry (Y/N), I am so so sorry.” Peter put his hands under their arms and lifted them into his arms, as fast as he could go to avoid another lash out. He began to swing them back, and in a quiet voice, (Y/N) whispered into his neck. “Why wasn’t it me, Peter?”

And in that moment, Peter realized that some people need help being put back together. Maybe Kintsugi isn’t so dumb after all.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 10 of 16

Wow, I updated. What a shockerrrrr

~~~~~~~~~~

You bounced on the heels of your feet, anxious and excited, waiting behind the front door of your shared apartment with Teresa.

She somehow convinced Ava Paige to let you roam around the city for a few hours, saying that it would be helpful for you. You had no idea if that would be true, but you were grateful anyway. Although, you were going to be guarded the entire time. 

You understood why, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“You ready?” Teresa smiled at you.

You nodded. “Yeah, ready to leave this place for once.”

“Just be careful, okay? Listen to the guard, and don’t try and escape. I won’t be able to do anything for you if you misbehave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right...”

There was a loud knock on the front door, opening it to reveal your guard for the afternoon, dressed in casual attire so he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself.

“Love you...”

You looked back at Teresa, slightly scowling. You tried not to scoff as you exited the apartment.

As soon as you left the building, you went wide eyed at how different the Last City looked from the ground. You had only seen it from that window, but now you were actually experiencing it for yourself.

Mostly everybody walking around were wearing masks, probably paranoid about getting the Flare. But you frowned when you saw how many children were walking with their parents, and infants in strollers.

You couldn’t help but almost tear up at the thought of all those kids dying from the Flare. You thought of your baby sister, how you would’ve done anything to save her and your parents if you had the chance.

But you forced yourself to think back to Minho, to all the kids that W.C.K.D. were torturing. You could never condone what they did, what they’re still doing. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw something that almost made your heart skip a beat. But you just decided it was your imagination. It had to be, right?

You looked to your left, and you realized it couldn’t be your mind playing tricks on you.

Thomas?

You went wide eyed when you saw him, in the middle of the street, no less. He gave you a smile, his eyes telling you to follow him. But with the soldier that was assigned to guard you, you knew it wouldn’t be so easy.

You wished you could tell him you needed to come up with a plan first.

It took so much convincing and begging from Teresa just for you to leave your cell. Trying to convince Ava to allow you to walk around the city, even for your mental health, was damn near impossible.

So how the hell were you going to ditch your guard?

You quickly surveyed the area, seeing different types of shops, company buildings, and restaurants of that sort.

Then suddenly, the idea hit you. You could almost feel the metaphorical lightbulb going off above your head. You turned back to look at your guard. “I literally have to take the biggest shit right now.”

You guard cringed in disgust. “Can’t you wait?”

“Do you want me to shit my pants, dude? The tower is so far away, I won’t be able to make it. Please.” You begged, trying to pull the best puppy dog eyes you never thought you’d ever do in your life.

The guard sighed. “Alright, fine.” He led you into some clothing store, going to the very back where the bathrooms were. “Try to hurry.”

You quickly entered the bathroom, grinning to yourself as you immediately noticed the window at the back of the room. It wasn’t too small. Thankfully, you weren’t too large. It would be a squeeze, but you’d make do.

You locked the door, pushing the trashcan in front just in case. Hopping up on the toilet seat as quietly as possible, reaching up to open the window. You jumped, thrusting yourself into the opening, trying not to groan in pain as the edge put pressure on your stomach.

You looked down to see the window was in the middle of an alleyway, away from the busy street. Huh, how lucky...

You fell very ungracefully out of the window, landing on the concrete with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“That definitely could’ve been executed better.”

You jumped at the voice, hopping to your feet, but slowly relaxing when you saw Thomas smiling softly at you. And just like that, all the pain you endured from Teresa, all the hopelessness you felt while trapped in that tower, it all seemed to fade away, just from that one smile.

You ran to him, quickly enthralling him in a tight hug. You heard Thomas chuckle breathlessly from the force of your embrace, but he held you back just as tightly.

Memories of laughing together played over and over again in your mind as you held onto him. You already cared for Thomas, but having the memories back...you couldn’t explain it. He felt more and more like a true brother as the seconds passed.

Reuniting with him just felt like a breath of the cleanest air in the world, almost like how it felt after it rained in the Glade.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked once you pulled away.

“I am now.” You tried to smile, but it only came out forced.

Thomas frowned when he looked you over. Your eyes were dull, almost sunken in, like you hadn’t slept in years. You were well fed, but you still looked malnourished due to how pale you looked.

“What happened to you?” His voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to ask.

“It’s a long story...a story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid. My guard is waiting. So, whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

Thomas smirked, making you confused. “You underestimate me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry, I’ve taken care of it.”

You cringed. “Should I even ask?”

“Come on.” Thomas grabbed your hand, leading you out of the alleyway and to a van. You stopped, looking to him with hesitance. “It’s okay.” He smiled reassuringly.

You sighed. “I’m trusting you, Thomas.”

You hopped into the back of the van with Thomas, and it quickly took off. During the whole ride, he had a content look on his face. It couldn’t help but make you feel uneasy. Where were you even going?

The van soon came to a halt, and Thomas turned to you. “We have to walk from here. For our safety and yours, you’ll have to be blindfolded until we get there.”

You shook your head. “Wait, no, Thomas-”

“I’ll be with you the entire time, okay? You’re gonna be safe, I promise. You said you trusted me, right?” You nodded reluctantly, and with that, Thomas gently put a cloth bag over your head, completely obscuring your vision.

You both exited the van, Thomas holding your hand as he led you through wherever you were. You were almost sure you were cutting off his blood circulation with how hard you were squeezing his hand, but he kept telling you that you were okay.

“Okay, we’re here.” Thomas removed the bag and you could finally see.

You looked around to see that you were in some sort of abandoned church. Why here?

“Y/N...”

You froze, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears...you knew that voice, that voice was in your dreams every single night. But, no, it couldn’t be possible...he was dead.

You slowly looked up to see who the voice belonged to. You felt a sudden chill go down your spine as you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was this a dream? A nightmare? No, it couldn’t be real. You were still at W.C.K.D. You must be. They must be trying to trick you into believing that you escaped.

But still, knowing that it wasn’t real didn’t stop you from shedding tears. “This is so sick...even for them.” You cried.

Thomas took a step forward, but you immediately recoiled. “Y/N, what’re you talking about?”

You quickly shut your eyes tightly, placing your hands to your ears to try and block out the booming thuds in your head. “This isn’t real. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” You kept telling yourself. “Please, stop this. Wake up...”

“Y/N, stop. You’re okay. You’re not dreaming.” Thomas tried to console you.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like a whole Griever was sitting on your chest, putting intense pressure on your lungs. You couldn’t control the sobs that rattled in your chest, making you tremble.

“One, two, seven, five, three...three, five, seven, two, one...”

You soon felt a pair of arms wrap around you. Thomas tried to calm you down, but it wasn’t working. You heard him order everyone out of the room.

This is such an elaborate simulation...

“Y/N...” Thomas whispered. “You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re not at W.C.K.D. This is real. I’m real. Me, Thomas.”

You looked up at Thomas, almost expecting him to turn into some horrid monster from the twisted imaginations of the people that experimented on you. But he didn’t. He just stared at you with the utmost concern in his golden brown eyes. You were so afraid to speak, you wanted this to be real so bad.

“You’re real?” Your voice broke.

Thomas nodded, smiling through the pain of seeing you in such a state. “Yes. Yes, I’m real.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, keeping your hold on Thomas. “Wait...but that means...”

Gally was alive?

After a few more minutes of trying to pull yourself together again, Thomas thought it was finally safe to bring everyone back in one by one. First, Newt entered the room.

“Newt.” You walked to him, quickly engulfing him in a hug.

“You’ve looked better, love.” He joked, well, it sounded like a joke to you, but he was really concerned.

“So have you.” You replied. “You need a haircut.” You tried to tease, but it didn’t make him smile.

Frypan couldn’t wait that much longer and entered the room and ran to you, giving you a huge bear hug that startled you, but you didn’t expect anything less when it came to your friend.

Then, Brenda and Jorge came out. “You’re still alive?” You asked her, shocked that she hasn’t turned into a Crank by now.

“Disappointed?” She smirked, pushing you softly before wrapping her arms around you while Jorge gave you a friendly smile.

And last but not least.

He walked in slowly, so slowly that it almost looked like slow motion. He didn’t want to scare you, certainly didn’t want to give you another panic attack. He wasn’t expecting that reaction. But he guessed it was reasonable, considering that seeing a person you thought was dead was suddenly not dead, but very much alive.

You felt more tears brimming your eyes again. The feelings of being in a simulation coming back, but this was real. He was real, and he was here. He was alive somehow.

“Gally?” You whimpered pitifully.

“Hey, Y/N...” Gally said, tears of his own brimming his eyes.

“You’re alive...”

Gally wanted to run to you, hug you and never let you go. But he knew how sensitive you were right now. So, he stayed where he was. “Yeah...I am.” He chuckled softly.

Almost like something clicked in your brain, you finally one hundred percent believed that this was all real. You didn’t wait one more second, you went to him. You ran to Gally and threw yourself on to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “You’re really here...” You cried, squeezing even more tightly than you already were.

Gally wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his face to your neck to breathe you in, making sure you were really there with him as he almost didn’t believe it himself.

The both of you stayed that way, almost four whole minutes of keeping in each other’s embrace. The only reason you pulled away was to look at him. He had a buzzcut, and he felt even stronger than he was in the Glade. He had a couple tears rolling down his face as he looked at you.

“How?” You stuttered. “How are you alive?”

Gally smiled. “Long story.”

His voice. You missed hearing his voice so much. You missed everything about him. His eyes, they were just as blue as the day you left him. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Gally. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” You declared, the tears not even slowing down.

Gally reached up and caressed your face, and you leaned into his gentle touch. “I never stopped thinking about you. The thought that I might see you again was the only reason I could wake up in the morning.”

Gally pulled you back into his chest, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas starting to walk over to the two of you. One glare from Gally was all it took for him to back off. He was not going to let that Greenie ruin this moment.

“I never thought I’d see you again...” You hiccupped.

“I’m here...I’m here.” Gally cooed. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

 bruh finalllyyyy 😭 

[border-spam]

Typhon

Typhon has only ever meant well.

The white lies, the sprinklings of exaggeration in his stories? Well, that just made people laugh, made ‘em happy. The bravado and bad jokes? Leda liked those, made her smile, and if Leda was happy then what else mattered?

Nothing.

Till she was killed.

Everything that built up to that night had been soul crushing, days of tears and rage as they screamed at each other and the undeniable end that approached.

Troy was dying.

8 years they’d managed to play pretend - a makeshift little family unit on a forgotten star -  that everything would be ok, when they all knew there was no way the boy would reach adulthood. Even Tyreen, too young to even really comprehend death, knew deep in her core some way.

They’d gotten 8 years, but they wouldn’t get another. Typhon sat on that rickety little bed he’d carved from Nekro-wood when the twins were born, sat for what felt like days now next to his exhausted wife, and waited. Waiting was all there was left to do, but they shouldn’t have expected an 8 year old to understand that.

They shouldn’t have ignored Tyreen’s outbursts, clearly confused and lashing out for attention while the back of her mind screamed how wrong her twin looked in his frail little body, eyes closed and chest barely moving. He knows now they shouldn’t have done that, how much it hurt her and why it lead to what it did.

But Typhon has only ever meant well.

When he passed out to Troy’s screaming and the crack of Leda’s stone skin as Ty wrenched her crushed fist from it’s grip, there was no expectation of anything bar dread. His last slipping thought as he blacked out, unable to process the horror he’d just witnessed, was the grim humour that tomorrow he’d be burying his son and his wife.

Waking up to a flushed, confused Troy asking where Leda was as he carefully sat up in bed while his twin curled around him, was like a blow to the skull.

He was alive. He was awake. It was a miracle. It had to be a miracle, what else could it have been? Whatever had.. had happened to Leda.. she must have done something, must be watching down on them from the heavens and healed their boy, that was it. That had to be it, and Typhon had sobbed with his twins, hugging their little bodies to his chest and promising he’d make sure they stayed safe, he promised Leda that day.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but Tyreen would choke him to death with her bare hands if she didn’t know Troy would turn on her like a switchblade.

He’d tried so hard to do what he’d promised, to keep them safe, but he’d never actually listened to Tyreen despite coddling her to a suffocating level. She’d tried to explain so many times, tried to tell him about the “bad feeling” in her stomach as The Leech wracked hunger pains through her tiny system that were too inhuman for her to be able to describe in terms he could comprehend.

She’d told him she wanted to leave, that there were people out there who needed her and Troy’s help, that there were so many lost souls she could reach out to and give belonging, but he’d just laugh and shake his head. Tell her that would be a terrible idea, that “the people out dere” would skin them both alive and sell their bodies to “da corporations” before they’d manage to say hello, and she’d hated him. The Leech squirmed in rage within her ribcage as it’s lure to Pandora was denied over and over while years passed, and Tyreen was forced to remain on Nekrotafeyo for far longer than she could bear.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but the looks he gave his daughter, the fear in his eyes and nervousness in his words only added to the dread she’d begun to understand as she got older. The realisation that her father thought she was a monster, and it might be true. He’d kept her trapped on a planet with nothing she hungered for, and the great maw swallowed pieces of Tyreen instead.

Troy was just forgotten.

Typhon hadn’t meant it, he’d not purposefully relegated his son to a provider that kept their larder stocked and bots functional, but it had happened anyway.

Tyreen was the one who needed attention, Tyreen was the one he needed to watch and keep close, she was the troublemaker. Troy was just.. Troy was just there, a lanky shape in the side of vision that was hyperfocused on his flighty twin, and it happened so slowly neither of them really noticed.

Troy was quiet, Troy was easy to manage, Troy didn’t complain or pout or have tantrums, he’d just do as you asked. Troy would scurry up rock-faces till twilight set and he couldn’t see clearly anymore, then limp back to camp with scraped knees and bloody knuckles and beam at being thanked for bringing back some Manta eggs

Troy would disappear for 10 hours and arrive home with a sack of glow pods, even though there were none for miles around, all just to see the smile light across his sister’s face as she leeched the plants and hummed their deliciousness.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but Troy was so easy to raise that his father stopped even seeing him.

It took about a year on Pandora for the rose tinted lenses to begin to clear for Troy about how things had been at home.

He was at Tyreens neck about it at any opportunity till then, jumped at any chance to remind her she made him come here and lied, to rub it in and make sure she was perfectly aware how much he wanted to leave, but it died down as he began to really see the truth of things.

Tyreen didn’t change, shed always wanted off Nekro from the moment The Leech sowed its seeds of influence through whispers in the back of her mind after what happened to Leda. She hated Typhon, but Troy didn’t, and still doesn’t years later despite having a far more realistic view of how poor a father he’d been to them. Can’t bring himself to want to cut him off completely when he knows how easy it is to make mistakes that hurt other people…

Typhon has only ever meant well, but the twins had been starving on that planet.

Tyreen in spirit, no life source more complex than animals to feed from meant The Leech constantly gnawed at the back of her mind demanding she leave, but Troy physically.

It hadn’t been so bad before, when he was younger. He and Typhon could easily hunt more than enough food together even if Troy mostly ended up carrying small loads and helping his dad as a kid, but by the time Typhon’s loss and fear had left him too concerned about Tyreen to let her accompany Troy and too paranoid to leave camp with him, things were bad.

They were very bad.

The twins are two sides of the same ravenous hunger. Tyreen’s ate her soul, but Troy’s decimated his body.

He’d take Grouse on long trips, the bots ability to carry a life saver even if he was too loud to actually help with the hunt itself, but there was just never enough food.

The animals on Nekrotafeyo were more energy than flesh, there wasn’t much on them in the first place, and coupling that with vegetation humans absolutely hadn’t evolved to eat, survival became a harder struggle every year that passed and bigger he grew.

Typhon was half his size and seemed to never pick up how much Troy was flagging, but that’s just how things were.

That was life, that’s how it is. Right?

Troy had believed that was the case till Pandora, and him actually getting to see how other people lived.

He’d been so proud of the few kilos he put on in those 6 months on Seifa’s ship.

She’d been insistent on eating way more often than he was used to and oddly grateful in a way he didn’t understand when he’d finish a meal, but when the first medic he’d let near him at Sol’s insistence when they’d entered their business partnership told him he was dangerously underweight, it had been a slap to the face.

He wasn’t, he’d put on weight. He was bigger than he’d ever been, you could pinch his skin now, so what were they fucking talking about?

Ranting at Ty afterwards had left a shitty taste in his mouth. She’d looked almost sad as she’d listened, told him he needed to actually trust her for once, that she wasn’t wrong about dad. That dad had been a fucking monster.

He couldn’t agree, wouldn’t. Stormed back to his room in their tiny studio space and brooded for hours - gnawing at his nails as Pandora’s night air turned frigid.

No one looked like he had when he came here. Dad had never said anything about him being thin. He was normal. He was normal, wasn’t he? He’d had no one to compare to, but…

No one here looked like he had.

He’d not seen anyone that thin, skeletal structure that visible. Hadn’t seen anyone yet who was normal and had cheekbone ridges you could see a jaw hinge through as it moved.

That hadn’t been normal, had it. He didn’t know and dad hadn’t said anything, acted like nothing was wrong for years.

He’d been starving, hadn’t he, and Typhon had slapped him on the back and thanked him for dinner every night instead of even hinting at worry. He’d been starving and the only person who could have helped him understand how sick he was had cared more about keeping his children by his side, than if one dropped dead.

So he stops bringing up wanting to go home. He stops defending Typhon if Tyreen needs to rage against her past in a monologue at night to help her shrug off the anger and get some rest.

He’s weird about food.

He won’t stand for waste when the Slums are hungry.

Neither can forgive their father for the childhood he caused.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but his children won’t speak of him at all.

[stones-x-bones]

A Mother’s Touch || Morgan and Bex

TIMING: Current (Don’t @ me timelines are weird) PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @inbextween SUMMARY: Bex has more questions about her place in the world, and finds that Morgan might understand more than she thinks. CONTENT: Domestic Abuse mentions, Child abuse mentions, Transphobia mentions

Curiosity was one of Bex’s more troublesome personality traits. It had gotten her into quite a bit of trouble as a kid-- sticking her hands in places they shouldn’t go, like under rocks and through fences; or asking questions that didn’t exactly have kid friendly answers to them-- and her mother had often chastised her for it, so it had become one of the things that she had hidden and locked away inside herself. Except, lately, she was finding it harder and harder to keep that part of herself from surfacing. It was happening more and more frequently in which she found herself unable to hold back the array of questions that filled her head and toppled from her lips. But, more and more, she was finding herself wanting to be curious. And after everything that had happened to her-- from the cockatrice, to the mutant in the alley, to the dream world, to Frank acting so strange-- she could no longer hold back the questions that had flooded her mind since Nell had first tried to tell her what she was: what was a witch, and what, then, was magic all about? Clutching one of the books Morgan had gotten for her chest, Bex made her way downstairs. She knew the older woman would be in the great room, because she was always either there, at work, or in her shed, and it was late enough at night that Bex figured she wouldn’t want to be outside in her shed. Luckily, neither Mina nor Deirdre was around, so Bex had found enough confidence within herself to sidled into the great room and clear her throat. “Morgan?” she called out tentatively, staring at the older woman with wide eyes, “Can I-- come sit with you?”

Morgan was trying to write. On an impulse, she could talk in circles, for hours maybe, especially with Deirdre to ask her things, but as March gave way to April, she found her thoughts shrinking around the question of her history, her self, and suddenly even something so simple as a lesson plan took hours. Her eyes drifted toward a spot on the wall, searching for a hint, a bone to excavate, something that wouldn’t fade in the turn of another miserable year in this place.

She set down her stationary with relief when she heard Bex come in and shoved it all onto the coffee table. “Of course, honey,” she said. She craned her head around and saw her, a little brighter, a little more bursting with some secret thought or other she couldn't keep down. But her bruises were starting to fade and she didn’t look half as scared as when she’d first shown up at the door. “Grab a pillow and get cozy,” Morgan urged, refreshing her smile. “And tell me what’s on your mind.”

Bex hurried over to the couch, as if Morgan might rescind her offer. Still clutching the book to her chest, she pondered how to start the questions off. She didn’t want to burst with them, to offer too many and overwhelm her-- but she didn’t want to ask too little and end up regretting not asking more. “Well, I--” she started, shuffling the book from her chest to her lap as she settled into the couch next to her, “guess I was just curious.” Ran her hands over the cover of it. “What was it like?” she asked, looking up at her. “Growing up-- this way.” Tapped the cover, which was revealed to be about magic and the essence of God through Jewish faith. One of the Zohar texts, but it was obvious Bex meant more of the magic part and not the Kabbalah part. “Knowing that you were, you know--” she still hesitated to say the word-- “special?”

It took Morgan several seconds to understand what Bex was asking, and when she did, no answers rose immediately to her mind. “Well it was…” Fine? Except for her mother, which made up what percent of her memories? “It wasn’t any one particular thing all the time. It was still growing up with my parents.” She shifted position to face Bex better and beckoned the girl closer. “But it was wonderful, when they first told me. I was four, maybe five? My dad had been reading Matilda to me, out loud before bedtime. And it was just around my birthday when he finished. And then the next morning, he and my mother sat me down for a very serious grown up talk, and they explained that they knew what I had been getting up to on my own, floating toys, rotting vegetables, breaking glasses. At the time, I wasn’t totally sure if those things were me, or if I had a ghost--”  She paused to snigger but waved it away, not wanting to bog Bex down with the depressing context. “And I still wasn’t sure what to make of what my parents were telling me, until my dad explained it. It was like Matilda, only it was real.  And I loved that story so much and wanted it to be true so badly, I was ready for them to show me everything. And they did. I got a little kid friendly demonstration of what they could do, and then a very stern lecture from my mother about how magic was not a toy or a game or anything fun, and even if it was a part of me, a sacred, fundamental, inextricable part, it was still going to be a lot of work. But the lessons and everything else she had in store for me came after. That day was just for being happy, and for feeling...special. Like a girl in a book.”

Bex listened intently and wondered how her life would’ve been different had she known she had this power. Her mind hesitated to use the same words Nell and Morgan did. Magic was reserved for something unexplainable and mysterious, and this power seemed anything but. At the moment, it seemed frightening. Even as her curiosity piqued, she couldn’t help but remember only the pain it had caused her. The small joys she found in things like fixing a pot or making a plant grow slightly didn’t outweigh any of the fear that she felt. But she wanted to feel the way Morgan and Nell seemed to feel about it. She wanted it to be something more than an innate fear inside of her. But she didn’t know how to get there yet. “And you-- you said you’re Pagan. Is that-- did you grow up that way? With stories about m-magic and...stuff?” She wasn’t really sure what she was asking at this point, but she needed to work through the confusing questions before she could get to the ones she really wanted to ask. Her mind didn’t work any other way. She needed to process the small steps before the big ones. 

Morgan squinted, trying to figure out where Bex was going with this. The girl was Jewish and proudly so, enough to start reading the Zohar rather than consider another faith. So where did Morgan’s religion come into anything? “Stories?” She repeated, trying to process. “The kind of paganism my family practiced had more to do with living in tandem with the flow of the earth, and the flow of the universe. There are, in other sects, deities, like the horned god and the morrigan, but we didn’t see them as beings with minds and wills that need to be appeased, but old, special names for broader forces, at best. But, there were rituals, the holy days follow the solstices and equinoxes, aligning the mind and spirit according to the seasons, growth, life, harvest, death. And we would use our magic, our power, to perform these rituals. And there were principals within this set of beliefs for how we should engage with our power. But the stories...the prayers we gave were to the earth, the stars, the elements. The story is just that...we belong here, and we should act like it. And it’s our job to remember that we have a will and an agency in our life, as a fundamental part of our existence. And we have to use that agency and work that will in a way that bends toward our highest and greatest good. But working your will isn’t always spellcasting. Sometimes it’s just being kind, or sticking up for yourself, or intervening when you see something wrong.” She sighed, unsure if this was the news Bex was hoping for or not. “I have some books on Celtic and Norse folklore and religion, if that’s something you were hoping to learn. I’m sorry if this isn’t...is there something you’re fishing for in particular, Bex?”

Bex recognized a lot of what Morgan was saying from the very text she had in her lap. Just...different. Connecting to the earth, to the flow of the universe, to the energy inside of it all. “I’ve always...struggled, to connect to my faith. I mean, I’ve been going to Temple every Sunday for as long as I can remember-- probably longer. But there was always this disconnect. I couldn’t understand what it was, I still don’t. And Judaism doesn’t really-- at least not Orthodox-- it’s not really erm, fond of...what I have. Or what...I am.” And perhaps they both knew she meant more than just magic. Her hands dug into each other, nervous peeling of nail beds. “And it’s not that our holy book doesn’t make room for people like me, or even people like you. Our God is about forgiveness and kindness and passing that on, and I always thought that, maybe, there was something inside of me that was wrong or bad, because how could I not relate to something like that? How could I not connect with something like that? And I guess I just wanted to know, if-if it was just me. If it’s just me. If-- if you ever struggled with it. With being that way while still staying faithful.” She chanced a tentative look up at Morgan. “But you...it was always a part of you. How does it work? How do you-- how do you do those things you said? Connect to the earth with your power?”

“Oh, Bex…” Morgan sighed. She had struggled, a lot. But not for any of those reasons. It was so much more awful than that, and went on for so much longer than anything she could bear to wish on Bex. She hung her head, sifting through her memories for some other excuse or rationale that wouldn’t feel dishonest. “There’s nothing inside you that’s wrong or bad, honey. How could there be? And feeling estranged or unwelcome or just disconnected--I feel like that’s more common than people realize. I believe that more people feel that than are willing to admit it. Honestly, I think it’s better to say so, than to do something you don’t mean.” But none of these assurances answered Bex’s question.

Morgan dug her hands into her skirt, tight enough that one of her fingers bent out of place. “The way I connect to everything now is different to how I did over a year ago,” she said quietly. “And even before then, I would struggle, yes. Left out. Left behind. Like everyone got a number and a place in line except for me, and whatever I did was squeezing in where I wasn’t wanted or taking something I wasn’t meant for. But I can’t…” she let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if that’s something I can talk about without knowing you’re going to believe me. I know you’ve been reading about--my family. The things that they did. That happened to them. But do you...believe in it, Bex? Do you understand what’s in there?”

Bex gave a confused look. It hurt her heart to hear how Morgan had suffered, and how she could relate to some of the ways Morgan said she’d struggled. Left behind, left out. Placed in a line you didn’t belong in but had to stay in. She was confused because she didn’t understand what Morgan was asking her. Hadn’t Morgan herself told her her family thought they were cursed? And if magic was real, then, by extension, so were curses. The Zohar talked about curses. It was forbidden. She put her hands back on the cover and tapped her fingers on it. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, “I think I’m still-- trying to figure it all out. I mean, I believe that your family was cursed. It’s kinda hard not to when you read...all of that. But I don’t think what I think of as a curse is maybe what...you think of as a curse. It’s--” she looked back down at her book, “I don’t understand any of it. I’m just trying to wrap my head around the idea that I’m--that I have-- I don’t even know how to do that. I don’t know how to be this way. Even reading this, I don’t know what part of the world I fit into. I-- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just want to know how it all works. I’m tired of being in the dark about all of this,” she said, curling her knees up to her chest, the book pressed between. “You said if I wanted to get a handle on all of this, that I needed to stop lying to myself. But I...what if I don’t know what I’m lying to myself about? I don’t know what’s my truth anymore.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Morgan said, quieter still. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve told you before, I’d rather have your honesty than anything else.” She sniffled and offered a smile, though it came out sad. “And I could--” she paused to steady her voice and sighed. “I could tell you about all the things that happened to me, every three years, because of a nineteen-year-old girl’s curse of eternal suffering. And the things I ran away from, and the things I ruined, and the people I hurt, and the fear I carried, and all the times I wondered if I had done something to deserve it, and if it would make things better or worse if I had. And I could tell you about how the girl cast the spell, the Norse and Celtic sigils she cobbled together to make something more cruel than anything she had in her books. And if that is what you want, I will. Everything I know how to talk about is yours. But there is so much in this world, Bex. More than anyone can digest at once or even in two or three talks. It takes time…” She scratched at the corner of her eye, trying to check for tears leaking over the side without making a thing of it. “But I don’t know if that will give you what you want. I can tell you that it’s no more mysterious to be someone with your magic than it is to be any other part of yourself. That it’s just patience, acceptance, nurture. I can tell you that you know, your soul knows what’s true and what isn’t, but you have to bring that in, honey.” Slowly, hesitating, she reached out a hand, hovering by her hair in a silent request. “What is it that you’re afraid of being a lie? Or is there something you’re afraid of being true…?”

Bex put her chin on her knees as she listened. It wasn’t fair, everything Morgan was saying. It wasn’t fair, that Bex couldn’t understand. It wasn’t fair that the world was cruel to people who didn’t deserve it. How could she believe in a God, a power, that did that to others? She buried her face in her arms. She didn’t move when Morgan reached out to her, but she didn’t flinch away either. The fading bruises on her arms hurt. “Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?” she asked into her own skin. “Why are there so many parts of me that feel so wrong? You keep telling me there’s nothing wrong with me, but I feel-- I feel so wrong. And I just wanna know how to not feel that way. How did you do it? Did you ever think it was bad? This power? The way you-- the way we are? How come I have to be this way? I don’t want to be this way.” She sucked in a breath. They were going in circles. She was going in circles. “I’m afraid-- I’m afraid letting myself be this is going to change me.”

Morgan combed her fingers through Bex’s hair when she didn’t flinch away and shifted closer, so she didn’t have  to reach so far. She stayed like that, finger combing Bex’s hair in slow, steady strokes while she spoke. “But what parts, Bex? There is nothing about you that deserves any shame. I’ve known you this long, and I’m only more proud to know you than I was before.” She brushed the tip of her finger along the shell of the girl’s ear. “You are only and ever you, Bex. Unless you’re breaking yourself into a different shape to please someone else. But something that’s in you, that’s as much a part of you as your bones, can’t do that.” She wished that there was a way, from all her talks with Deirdre over the last year she had learned something more useful than simply denying the false story and trying to make her own more persuasive. She didn’t know how to compel someone to change their mind, or how to lift the self loathing out of a heart. “You can only become more yourself through this. And no bad came from an accessible education. It’s ignorance that hurts. But can you tell me-- maybe I could assure you better, if I knew what you were afraid of changing.” She touched her knuckles to her cheek, realizing only at the fuzzy, nothing sensation that she wouldn’t be able to tell if the girl was burning up with anxiety, or anger. With a mournful sigh, she went back to combing Bex’s hair. “I want to help,” she murmured. “Explain it to me, as best you can. It doesn’t have to be perfect or anything. Maybe I can piece it together if you tell me a little more…”

Bex couldn’t tell yet if Morgan’s touch was comforting. She felt her fingers brushing gently through her hair and wondered if there was ever a time her mother had done this for her without the malice that had usually preceded it. She couldn’t remember. Her childhood felt like a movie that she could only observe from the outside. She could remember thinking, even as young as five, that something was wrong with her. Because lightbulbs exploded or lamps toppled over or windows broke and her parents would tell her it was bad. With their words, with their hands. And if it was bad, and it was part of her, then she, too, was bad. It wasn’t something she could think her way through, not when she’d been conditioned in the opposite direction. “I’m afraid I-- what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not good enough? I-- I already failed my parents. I can’t-- if I do what you want me to, if I accept what I am, I can’t go back. They won’t let me come back. And I-- I don’t even know what kind of person I really am. My parents shaped me as a child, and then my school shaped me as a teenager, and now it feels like this place is trying to shape me into something else and I don’t know who I am or if I ever was anything, or if I can take much more. And what if I’m not enough? What if I’m not good? Where will I go then? Who will I be then? If I change again, I lose again. I’m afraid if I change again I’m just going to be alone, and I don’t want...I can’t take that again.” She decided, then, that it was comforting. She leaned into Morgan, still curled up in herself. “I want to know how me being...magic is going to make anything better.”

Morgan eased an arm around Bex’s shoulders and tucked her in with a loose grip before turning her attention back to her hair. It was easier to focus on that than anything else. “Hey, hey--” she cooed. “I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself, Bex,” she said. “Not some performance you’re putting on out of fear, not some set of made up rules to fit someone else’s idea. That’s not living. I just want to know you. And who you are, the amazing, incredible things you are capable of--” she sighed. “I don’t really believe in good and bad. But if there is anyone who might be truly good at heart, it would be you. And it is your choices, the kindness you decide to give to others, to yourself, the levity you bring to try and cheer your friends, the risks you take in the hopes of something better, that is what defines you more than anything you’re born with or born as. The choices you make that are your own, not pressured or beaten or intimidated into you. But you will always have a place here, if you want it. And the reason why accepting yourself, being kind to yourself, is going to make anything better is that you will have so much more peace, and so much more control in every other area of your life. All that energy you spend hiding and shaming yourself and repressing your light can go to good things, fun things, neutral things, whatever you want. You will have so many more choices, better choices, ones that can help other people, help the world, because you will have cleared out all the ones that are consuming and breaking and killing you. And getting to do cool stuff, live-saving stuff, just by wanting to is just as awesome as it sounds. But that’s just my two cents, Bex. I’m not going to make you do anything while you’re here.” She pulled back just far enough to look at the girl. “Am I making any sense…?”

It wasn’t fair, Bex thought. None of this was fair. Nothing she’d been born with or as was fair. She wished it would all just...go away. She wished she’d never been born the way she was. She wished she’d never found out she had magic. But wishes only went so far. And Morgan was right, because fucking hell, Morgan was always right. That also didn’t feel fair, but Bex knew that was because she was just being childish. She wanted to believe everything Morgan was saying-- really, she did!-- but those parts of her that ached so deep inside it felt like a part of her kept from accepting the reality that yes, she could choose who she wanted to be. She’d never had the choice before. She felt a silence settling over herself. Tomato, she thought. But that also wasn’t fair. She’d been the one to come down here and ask Morgan to talk. The book felt suddenly heavy in her lap. Somehow, she’d thought reading it, understanding it, would make her feel better. It didn’t. Because it wasn’t that she didn’t believe in magic, or that she didn’t believe she was-- it was that she believed her magic was bad. And no book would change that. She lifted her head enough to look over at Morgan. “Yeah,” she answered quietly. She let out a long puff of air, looking away again and resting her chin on her knees. “I need to tell you something. And I know you already know, but I need to say it out loud. So that I can make it...feel real.” 

There were a lot of ‘secrets’ Bex held that Morgan had already figured out, but she wasn’t about to guess which one. She soothed Bex’s shoulders with a brush of her fingers and shifted so she could meet her eyes. “Of course. Whatever you need, honey. Okay? You’re cared about just the same.” She offered another smile, brighter now. “What is it, Bex?”

Bex wished someone else had said that to her. Why hadn’t her own parents ever told her that? Whatever she needed. She wondered if she could ever call this place home. Wondered how a woman with ice cold hands could make her feel warmer than a woman with warm hands and an ice cold heart. She met Morgan’s eyes for a brief moment before looking away. “I’m trans,” she mumbled, “and I-- I know it doesn’t change anything, obviously, but I wanted to be the one to tell you.” She shifted and held out the book to her. “None of these books tell me anything about myself. Not about being trans or a witch, or anything else. I just wanted answers.”

Morgan’s smile widened, showing only kindness. “I wanted you to be the one to tell me too,” she said. “Thank you, Bex, for trusting me with this. I hope, so very much, that you give the rest of yourself the same ease, the--relief you must have had when you looked in the mirror and finally saw someone you recognized. Someday.” She looked down at the book and set it aside on the coffee table. It had been a well-meant idea, at least. “No one can tell you how to be yourself except for you,” she said. “But there are plenty of books and media resources for trans girls that we can track down, if you want, and no shortage of material on magic and being a witch. Maybe with the right materials, when you’re ready, you’ll be able to cast your transmutation yourself.I am sorry, though, that it can’t be any easier. Truly, Bex.”

“You know,” Bex started, “I knew I was a girl when I was, like, five? Six? I remember because I saw all the other girls in my class wearing dresses and I wanted nothing more than to wear a dress, too. I also remember telling my parents and I guess, at the time, things weren’t so bad, because they just said okay. And the next thing I knew, my closet was full of dresses and skirts and I got to grow my hair out. They pulled me out of school and put me in a new one. I wasn’t allowed to start hormones until I was older, but even then, they were on top of it.” It sounded like a dream come true, really. “Except...I realize now it was because they were afraid. They told me never to tell anyone, that it was our secret, and that if anyone tried to find out, to tell them and they’d take care of it.” She looked over at Morgan. “They gave me a good life. I got to grow up as a girl because of them. Do you know how many trans kids never get anything close to that?” Her eyes fell back to the book. “I’ve been blowing things up since I was about that age, too. They never said a word about it.” If they had that much shame for her being trans but still had the gall to pretend, then what did it say about her abilities? “Books are nice. But I think I need something more. I just don’t know what that is.”

“The absence of cruelty isn’t the same thing as the presence of kindness,” Morgan muttered. Maybe it would be smarter to play along with Bex’s deluded affection for her parents. She certainly understood it, and maybe there was even something good she couldn’t perceive and understand about holding onto those scraps of ‘love’ and pouring affection and apologism on them like water, hoping they’d grow into something. But her fear that Bex would think she agreed with her parents was much stronger. If she was going to fuck this up, maybe it could at least be for trying to be a voice of reason. “...It could be that they didn’t understand what they were seeing, when you were doing what every other child witch in the world does. Or they were in denial. You’d think people would realize that willful ignorance just hurts everyone, but I’ve known at least one person who holds onto it like it’s the only thing worth keeping. Maybe it’s easier to do that, than admit you’re miles out of your depth. I don’t know. Only they do.” And she certainly wasn’t going to encourage Bex to dial them up to ask. “If you figure it out, I’ll do everything I can to bring it to you. I want that for you. Okay?”

This wasn’t the way Bex had wanted things to go tonight at all. She’d wanted to talk to Morgan and get answers to her question and maybe figure out how to feel at least a little better about herself. It wasn’t that Morgan’s reassurances weren’t helpful or nice to hear, but she felt like she was going in circles. “I don’t think my parents like being wrong about anything,” she muttered in response. She shifted, then, and laid her head on Morgan’s shoulder, arms still tight around her legs. She looked at the bruises on her arms and the bandages that were finally starting to become less and less. “I wish my mom had been more like you,” she said without thinking too much on it. She didn’t want to think anymore, she’d thought about so much today. “Do you think I’m wrong, for still loving them?”

Morgan closed her eyes at Bex’s words and held her just a little tighter. She wanted that too. Horribly. Impossibly. And what could she say in response that wouldn’t tell on herself and ruin everything? “...I’m here,” she said at last, wavering. “And you’re not wrong, no.” She brought some of Bex’s hair over her shoulder and twirled it around her finger. “Maybe it hurts us more in the end, or leads to some kind of trouble, but I don’t know how many kids can help loving their parents, even when they’re cruel. Maybe we think if we hold on, they’ll learn to love us the way we want. Maybe it’s just...how it is,for better or worse. But whatever it is, I don’t think it says anything bad about you, that you want to love and forgive them so much. I just hope… that part of you doesn’t get hurt so much that you become afraid to use it at all.”

Bex stayed quiet. She listened to Morgan and felt the truth in her words and understood that it came from experience. How else could she know so well, the way Bex longed for her mother to one day hold her gently and tell her she really did love her, and she really was proud of her? How else would she understand the pain of not having that love? Of desperately wanting a sign, any sign, that it was possible? Bex finally uncurled herself and let herself be held. It still took conscious effort to remind herself that the hands holding her would not hurt her, but she allowed enough of that part of herself to quiet, and she relaxed in Morgan’s arms. “Do you love your mom still?”

Morgan sagged with relief as Bex uncurled and wrapped her up the way she’d been aching to. She let her head come down to rest on the girl and closed her eyes and let herself be still save for the slow, steady breathing she measured out in her head. She tried to think of Ruth Beck as seldom as possible, but she was hard to forget, living in close quarters with so many haunted women. It hurt, always, but thinking about the things her mother had done was easier than answering Bex’s question. She’d had four years to get over it. She’d turned the ghost of the woman away, when the answers she got weren’t what she wanted. What was she still holding onto, if she’d already rejected her? And yet she had left the door open, for something, anything to change for so long as her mother’s soul lingered. And what the hell for? 

“Yes,” she admitted at last. “Very much still. I think I’d stop if I knew how, but I don’t.”

In some strange way, it was relieving to know that Morgan still loved her mother, too. Bex knew that her mother was a cruel woman, but she also knew that her mother could be gentle. She had been the one to buy her dresses as a child, and tell her that she could be a girl if she wanted. Bex even remembered falling asleep in her lap by the fire some nights, or sitting with her on the couch while they watched movies. She remembered bedtime stories and forehead kisses and burying herself in her mother’s arms when another parent had tried to scream at her for going in the women’s bathroom. Her mother’s cruelty wasn’t always towards Bex, but when she did turn it that way, Bex always forgave her. Time and time again. Because she loved her, and all she wanted was for her mother to love her back. “Does it still hurt? To love her?”

“Yes,” Morgan said. “Sometimes it feels worse than what she did. Or didn't do. I have every reason in the world not to love her anymore, and now that she’s--gone, mostly, there’s not much chance of a better ‘someday.’ But even when I remember everything, I uh--” She hiccuped a wet laugh. “I’m still just the little girl she didn’t want, wanting her to save me from my hurt.” She swiped at the tear rolling down her cheek before it could land on Bex’s hair. “And it wasn’t all bad, which makes it worse, in a way. Maybe. I tell myself if it was all bad, I’d let her go easier, but maybe it would be more of the same.” She shrugged. “She’s the one who taught me how to cook. Made the best birthday cakes. Probably the alchemy.”

The familiarity of Morgan’s words hit Bex like a punch to the gut. Not that she’d ever been punched in the gut, but she assumed this was what it felt like. It felt a little bit like her future was being told to her, laid out in front of her. She didn’t have to hear it or see it to know there was probably a tear in Morgan’s eye. She’d pretend she didn’t know. Instead, she settled in closer and put her arm around Morgan. “Will you teach me how to cook?” she asked into the quiet.

Morgan’s next tearful laugh came out more freely and she didn’t even bother to hide her sniffles, understanding that Bex knew. This was her present. Her wounds were still raw and infected. “Absolutely, Bex.” She gave her a quick squeeze. “Besides, Deirdre’s too easily distracted to ever let me teach her, and we need to save the rest of the pots from burnt water somehow, right?”

[choiceenvironment]

Shorty’s Fight

Shorty is so deserving of the proper surgery to save her leg.  I feel horrible that I can not afford to provide her with it. With so many people struggling, I hate to ask for this kind of financial help, but I have no choice.  I have to try for her sake. Our local small town community has already sponsored the costs to saving her, with help from the wonderful (Strathmore Veterinarian).  The donations gave the vet enough to amputate her tail and cast her arm from a broken Radial bone. Including an anonymous donor that paid her intake. I believe it is because the town knows her, she has gone into stores, got the mail with me and all my clients love her. Since then (2 weeks ago) something has gone wrong and the Ulnar bone which had a hairline fracture has now broken fully, the only option now is amputate her front left arm for $2000 or Surgery for $4500 to save the arm. She is in a lot of pain, this breaks my heart for her and she does not deserve to suffer. I have been told by some that she is just a cat, That I should just do what ever is cheapest and/or put her down. But she is not just a regular cat, her personality captures anyone who meets her but not in the cuddly way most would think. This is my story of the most unique cat I have ever known. "Sam Shorty" 2 years ago I was looking for a small companion cat that I could bring to work at my newly opened print shop. I thought it would be great to keep the mice away, I was lonely as I worked alone and I had some struggles coping with stress. My store was opened in 2017, Since then my entire store was flooded and I lost all my inventory with no help from insurance because it was "overland flooding" - Jerks! They didn't help at all.  But my community did! Since then I lost my father, 2 brothers and covid took away my events which used to pay for my store rent.  I hosted, cooking and paint classes for kids when they were off school.  I also trained people who struggle to learn computer skills and building their own resume. I honestly needed to find a daily companion and furry friend.  My first thought was to catch or coax one of the Ferrell cats around town because I would be "giving them a better life".  So I thought. ha ha ha But the stray cats around town are pretty happy just eating the field mice and being wild and free.  No worries, just play, eat and sleep, I am almost jealous except in winter time. ha ha ha So after weeks of desperately trying to make friends with the Ferrell's I gave up and realized that all I was doing was creating Night Fights from all the food I kept leaving out. The neighbors must have loved that. ha ha ha They did keep all the outside mice away, but funny...I seemed to end up with more mice inside the store. ha ha ha Moving forward I checked online for any cats needing a home and oddly at that time frame there was none?  People even tried catching their own farm Ferrell's to no avail.  Well I was determined so I planned to go on the weekend to buy one SOMEWHERE lol, didn't know where but I was determined. Saturday morning we planned for a Sunday trip to the city.  But I was feeling really down so I prayed.  I honestly prayed to God and asked for help in sending me a cat that needs the most help. See, Although I want a companion for my sake I also want to return the favor to my friend, I want to be doing something good. 2 hours later I was cleaning up some things in the shed and my husband says "I think there is something behind the quad" Sure as shit there was a kitten!  So we ran and told my daughter to grab a can of tuna and after a few attempts I was able to quickly grab her scruff and pull her into my scarf. She fought hard but only for a few seconds, then she tucked her head into my hair and didn't move. I walked around with her for a bit and she seemed to like it.  Eventually I set her on my bed and she just stared at all of us like she was in shock.  Pretty sure she was freaking out. ha ha ha Her eyes were full of gunk, she was so badly filled with worms and she pooped all over my bedroom, my bed, but I could care less. Funny story - she even gave me worms which is very rare! The first night she was so afraid that she would only lay on the window sill.  Shorty was so stunted and small that we called her shorty.  Also because her tail was the smallest tail we had ever seen. While she was going from the window to the liter box and back up to the window sill, her litter was getting stuck to her feet and a small amount kept dropping into my bedside drinking glass. Lets not get into details, but I drank a lot of water that night. ha ha ha - I still laugh at this cause she was worth it. It took a long time to get her back to health, we thought she was dead a few times when she would not move for hours. We eventually got her fixed and with consistent food she began to grow :) and although small she is one tough kitty. I had her on a leash when we would go for walks, camping or to work.  But eventually I just felt like she missed the wild. When we were camping it poured rain one year so bad, but she did not want to leave the brush beside the fire and I realized she was hunting mice! She would be soaking wet and I would try to take her inside with me but she would get so mad, growl and kick her back paws on me.  So in return for her friendship I sat in the rain with her for hours so she could listen to the wilderness and hunt mice.  She even caught one that year but her excitement caused her to lose it and it ran away. She would stand on her back feet and sway her head like a crazy person filled with glee, she looked like a playful bear. Shorty would finally want to go to bed around 11 pm, but at the crack of dawn she would be sitting on her leash staring at me and using her "mind powers" to wake me up.  She is very polite and tries not to disturb me while I sleep.  So sweet. I decided that if I truly love her I would have to let her have her own freedom and if she loved me too, she would return home. At first when I took her off her leash, Shorty would stay with me as I gardened or worked in the yard.  But eventually she left the yard for a day and night. But she returned and before the incident she would come and go on the hour. Shorty could be dead asleep on the piano ( her favorite spot) and she would know if another cat stepped on her property.   So would we, because all of a sudden she would run upstairs to the bedroom windows, then down to the basement windows. Sometimes she would "Scobie Doo"  around the corners then race to be let out the back door. All the neighborhood cats are free out here and go as they please.  They are also bigger than her! But she puff's up, spits and kicks her back feet like she is the toughest little girl in the world. Climbing is her favorite and she always has to show me.  She will run up the tree and if I am not watching her Shorty meows at me and scratches harder on the tree. She loves to run and show off how fast she is, her favorite game with my daughters is what we call "the chase game" That's where the kids will get a foot from her and she will run to the other side of the yard and lay down.  Then she rolls and shows her tummy, so the girls walk up to pet her and when they are a foot from her she runs back to the other side. She loves it. Shorty does not cuddle, wont let strangers touch her and only comes to me "Mom" Now the sad part -  We rescued a Pitbull and have spent month retraining her as she was abused and left to freeze in the cold.  Her name is Calypso. She cowers to many things and we thought we were getting her back to normal. Her prey drive was bad, but the cat and her were beginning to play and we began lowering our guard. I never left them in a room alone together, I still always supervised just encase. But 2 weeks ago I was in court awaiting a verdict on a local exploitation of a minor case.  The judge called guilty, we cried with relief and became overwhelmed as it had been a year long uncertain battle.  By the system prevailed! AS we celebrated on the way home I got a call from my daughter, the dog had got upstairs and the cat was bleeding. I tried to keep my daughter calm and a Neighbour ran to my house to see how bad it was. When I got there, the floor had a trail of blood and a pool of blood behind the couch. But it is not the dogs fault, she is a sweet sweet dog that just wants to be loved.  The dog took to me the moment we met and her jealousy took her over along with her natural instinct. Just as the cat needs to hunt mice, the dog wants to hunt too.  It part of them and I hold no fault to either of them. We called the nearest vet who responded with "we are booked unless you want to just bring her in and put her down?" Yah we hung up on them. Then we called Strathmore Vet and while bawling I explained that I had absolutely no money, I had no idea how to get any money but I would do anything to save her. The vet worked tirelessly through the night and all the next day.  Shorty had her tail amputated, and a second time from the damage.   Luckily she had enough blood to rebuild and just a fractured radial bone.  They tried there best to cast the arm but gave me a 50/50 chance of keeping it. The last two weeks of healing, Shorty has been such a trooper.  We have been trapped in my room since but I think she knows its only so she can heal.  I have not gone to work or left her side. I thought she was getting depressed the last few days but yesterday we found out its pain, from the second bone finally giving out. Shorty deserves to keep her leg and she deserves proper care.  The feeling of not being able to provide this to her is horrible. I cant even afford the amputation. With amputation I wonder if I will ever let her back outside? There is 2 jerks on our street that always speed and with her only having 3 legs I would be too worried that someone would run her over. Most people in our town will actually stop and let a cat cross the road, we are always watching for children and the speed is basically 30 klm/hr over the entire hamlet or Carseland. This is my last resort. I have tried to phone Pet Card to get approve for a pet loan but I don't make enough.  I actually don't make anything since covid and have been operating my print shop at a loss for 6 months. My customers have been hit hard, they don't have the money to pay anymore.  Its not their fault and I have stayed close with all my clients because I truly understand what they are going through. I tried selling all my game consoles i have collected since I was 12, that didn't pan out. The stress of everything gave me shingles, so I have 4 bags of bottles to take in and I am now better so I can actually take them in, but that's not going to help her today. So I am here asking for help because Shorty deserves better and I am okay with putting myself out there for her. She really deserves a chance to keep her freedom and live the happy life she had before. Thank you so much for reading, sharing or considering helping my little girl. My love to you all Jennifer

[megalony]

Family ties- Part 11

Here is the next part of my dad! Ben Hardy series which I hope everyone will like, thank you all for the feedback it is much appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls

Series taglist: @flaminasteroid

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) were single parents but they are trying to raise their kids together as one big family. Now they’re finally having a baby of their own, but that proves hard when there’s a problem with their baby.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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"He has sepsis."

"But that's blood poisoning." Ben's words were fired back at the doctor as quickly as he spoke but there was very little fire behind his words and they were spoken very quietly as if he was afraid that saying them any louder would make them too real to cope with.

Billy couldn't have that, he was a baby, he wasn't even one week old yet. He was too small with an immune system that was far too weak to be able to cope with having this condition. Ben had had this condition before and it had been Hell for him to get through, he didn't see how his baby boy could manage that. It was a condition that could easily kill.

"How do you treat it?" (Y/n) needed to know that there was something the doctor could do to help Billy. She had to be told what they were going to do because if she was told there was nothing to help Billy, she wouldn't know how to cope. They had gotten this far when no one thought they would even get through the pregnancy, it couldn't all be for nothing at this stage. Billy was here, he was alive and well with his heart exactly where it should have been in the first place. They couldn't lose him now.

"Sepsis is the body's reaction to an infection, the blood starts to damage the tissues in the body. We've started Billy on a high dose of antibiotics to treat the infection and they will treat his blood too. We've taken him off the blood thinners and he's been sedated. But if the infection spreads to his heart and the sepsis attacks his heart... his chances will be slim."

Billy was only a baby and with his operation, his immune system was already going to be on high alert. Now it was attacking his healthy tissue because his body was reacting very badly to an infection that was happening in his chest. If the infection got worse or spread to his heart and the sepsis didn't go away, it would attack his heart and he would die. He already had a high temperature that was still rising. If they didn't get this under control, Billy wasn't going to live for very much longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What is it?" Ben's words were gentle but his expression was rather blank, the same as it had been for roughly four hours now. His eyes were close to shutting, his green orbs were fading in colour and broken like cracked glass and his skin was duller than grey. Everything about his complexion screamed sleep but everything inside his head screamed for help.

His eyes slowly drifted from looking at his boy, to look over at (Y/n) who was a few inches in front of him. They were both sat inches apart next to the incubator Billy was held within, neither of them had moved or even stood up from their seats for the past four hours. Billy had a temperature that kept on rising and had been put on a ventilator to help him breathe since it seemed to have become a fight that he was now losing.

He was sedated to keep him calm and let his body try and fight the infection, so both parents knew he wasn't going to be moving or wriggling or waking up anytime soon. But they still felt the need to watch over him as if they thought he was going to wake up and be perfectly fine.

If Billy got any worse, he wasn't going to survive and Ben and (Y/n) needed to be here in case he got any worse or even if he got better. They weren't leaving him when he was like this.

During these past few hours, the couple hadn't really said anything because there was nothing for them to say. Silence was their friend right now but Ben had broken that silence because he could see the wheels turning in (Y/n)'s mind. Every time she glanced over at him, there was something in her eyes that Ben had seen before, she wanted to ask or tell him something but she didn't know how to say it or how to approach the subject. It was just like a few months back when she wanted to talk about what they would do if Billy's health took a bad turn. That told Ben that whatever she was thinking, might not be something he would want to hear.

But he couldn't keep catching her staring at him, bursting to tell or ask him something without the courage to go through with it.

Tilting her head up, (Y/n) locked her burning, tired eyes with Ben's and she suddenly felt her stomach churning. She didn't want to say what was on her mind because she didn't want to think that the events would go down that route. But if things happened the way she thought they might, she would have to tell Ben sooner or later.

(Y/n) let her eyes cast downwards to look back at Billy as she slowly ran her hand over his small tufts of hair. Feeling how his skin was burning against her own like she had just rested her hand on a simmering pan.

"If the antibiotics don't work, I'd like to hold him before..." (Y/n) didn't have the guts to say it but she knew Ben would understand what she meant. Her voice was tentative and quiet, but her tone wasn't nearly as broken as how she felt by saying those dreaded words. If Billy didn't recover from this, (Y/n) wanted a chance to hold him before he passed away. She didn't want the first time she or Ben got to hold him to be when he was already dead. They had snatched him away the moment he was born and had locked him up in an incubator for the following days since his operation. If he wasn't going to survive, they should have the chance to hold him.

"Okay." Ben pressed his closed hand to his mouth as he looked back at Billy to try and stop himself from crying. He had shed far too many tears for there to be enough water left in his body by this point, he didn't want to shed anymore because each tear drained him to the point Ben felt like he was going to collapse.

"I, um... If he dies, I d-don't want him cremated, o-or to have a post-mortem." (Y/n) looked up at the ceiling as if it would magically stop the tears from falling or tip them into the back of her head but it didn't, and it did nothing for the way her throat crackled and croaked as she spoke up about her thoughts. (Y/n) didn't want her baby boy to be cut open any more than he already had been for his operation. If he passed away, the reasoning behind his death would be crystal clear, there would be no need to hurt him any more by cutting him up like butchered meat. (Y/n) wouldn't let them do that to him.

But the more she thought about it, the worse it felt because she didn't want Billy to be cremated either. She couldn't bear the thought of what would happen to him if he was cremated, the thought of flames flickering and licking at him made her want to scream. Burying him wasn't much of a better thought but it was something (Y/n) would just about be able to cope with if things went that way.

They could visit his grave if he was buried, they would be reassured that he would be safe in a coffin without being hurt or butchered any more. He would be at some sense of peace that way.

Ben didn't have the will power to say anything, his mind couldn't even fathom out what he was supposed to say in response to that, so he simply nodded in return. He agreed with what she was saying and he understood where she was coming from, he was fine with her wishes, even if he didn't want to talk or think about them just yet.

"Have we done the right thing?" (Y/n) whispered so quietly as she pressed her lips together in a thin line. Her vision blurred from the sudden downpour of tears that distorted Ben's image, but she couldn't help but feel like her conscience was now telling her off. Advising her or reprimanding her that what they were doing and had done might not have been in Billy's best interests after all.

"What do you mean?"

"I know he won't understand, b...but he's still got some kind of conscience, hasn't he? He was sedated the moment he was born and then after a big operation and finally waking up, he gets this. We chose this for him, w-what if we just chose to torture him?"

(Y/n) knew that no one could remember anything from being a baby or even from being a toddler. Their minds simply blanked those memories out because they didn't have proper thought processes or speech or the ability to understand what was happening around them. But the fact was that when Billy was awake, he must have some kind of conscience, he was awake and his brain was functioning and his eyes were taking in everything around him.

All he would have known was that the moment he managed to breathe and cry, someone put him into a deep sleep and he lost over a day of his life being under anaesthetic. He woke up to find his body had been cut open and stitched up and his body had to rewire and try and cope with such big changes. Then he found he couldn't breathe properly and was probably feeling some kind of discomfort before he was sedated after getting an infection. Now he wasn't even allowed to be awake in case he was in pain or distress.

If Billy died now, all he would have was two days of being awake and the rest of his short life would consist of being asleep and put through too much for his small body to cope with.

(Y/n) couldn't help but wonder if they had done the right thing because if Billy died now, she knew that they had done this for nothing. They had brought him into the world to die a week later and that was cruel in her eyes. A termination might have been kinder.

"This isn't a right or wrong situation, sweetheart. Abortion would have been easier but that wasn't necessarily right and giving him a chance isn't wrong or cruel. We took the chance and h-he's not been in pain. Everyone's brought into the world to die, this is no different."

Ben reached over and took (Y/n)'s hand in his own but his eyes fell back on his boy once again. They weren't doing a quiz, there was no right answer and no option that was wrong. They were in a situation where there was an easier and possibly kinder option, or a risky option that could give them what they wanted and they had every right to have Billy if they wanted to. They hadn't tortured him or put him through pain because he was sedated so he didn't feel distress, discomfort or any sort of pain. He wouldn't know what was happening and they had tried to give him a chance. In Ben's eyes, whether this worked or not, they had done something good by trying to help their boy.

No one was immortal, every parent had a child knowing that their child was going to die. They knew that their child could live to only five or twenty or fifty or even ninety, but no one lived forever. In Ben's eyes, people were born to die because the moment they were born, each second that ticked by was simply bringing them closer to their death.

It worried Ben sometimes, but in moments like these it helped him to understand. They weren't being cruel by giving Billy a chance because even if he only lived a week, he was still alive and he was just like everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A faint, tight-lipped smile pulled at Ben's lips when his eyes tired but partially rested eyes landed on the nurse who was quietly entering the room. When they found out Billy had sepsis three days ago, they had moved him into a room on his own so they could monitor him better and so both parents could be alone with him.

Ben unravelled one arm from around (Y/n)'s waist so he could press his finger to his lips, watching the nurse nod in understanding to his silent plea.

There was a sofa beneath the window on the other side of the room but it was simply too far from Billy and (Y/n) had refused to move an inch away from him unless she had to use the bathroom or stretch her legs. Other than that she had sat as close as she could get the chair to be next to her boy. So Ben pushed his chair and her chair together, leaning back against his chair with his legs spread out over (Y/n)'s chair. He pulled her so she was laying between his legs and as he had expected, she had fallen asleep soon afterwards due to staying up through the nights to watch over Billy.

Now that she was sleeping, Ben didn't want to wake her unless he really had to. He had grabbed a few hours of sleep himself but he couldn't manage to sleep anymore, his brain was awake and it was fine to sit like this, but not to sleep like this. He had woken with his neck feeling like it was going to snap from resting on the back of the chair.

Ben's tired eyes followed the nurse, watching as she stood on the other side of the incubator to check on Billy. Every few hours someone would come in and check on his progress and tell them that he was much the same with no change and Ben was beginning to feel like that wasn't such a good thing. No change meant that the infection clearly hadn't gone to his heart but it meant it wasn't cleared up and it meant his fever wasn't gone either.

When Ben had sepsis he didn't have a fever like Billy but he had to stay in hospital for two months and he needed another month after that off work to recover. That was only a short while before Hugo was born and it had taken a lot out of Ben and it took him a while to get back to normal. So he knew that Billy wasn't going to have a speedy recovery, but just to know that the infection was gone would be something that showed they weren't at risk of losing him.

"How is he?" Ben pushed himself up a little higher so he was sitting straight, gently moving (Y/n) so she was still leaning against him as he didn't want to wake her up.

His eyes watched his boy who was still in the same position he had been for hours. He only moved when a doctor or nurse checked him over and made sure he had no more rashes or blue patches of skin to make sure the sepsis wasn't getting worse.

"His fever's gone."

Those three little words caused Ben's entire body to shake, especially his head as his eyes locked on the nurse who looked very surprised. Her own hands were shaking as she reached into the incubator and pressed the back of her hand gently against Billy's skin, clearly not trusting the monitors or her eyes like there had been a mistake in the readings. Ben couldn't quite remember how long it had been since the last doctor came in and checked Billy, but he did know that even though his temperature had gone down by two or three degrees, he was still burning up.

"Baby... baby wake up." Ben shook (Y/n)'s shoulder without letting his eyes move away from watching Billy as if he was expecting his youngest boy to suddenly start moving and wake up to show him that he really was okay.

"W-what... what's happened?" (Y/n) shook her head a little to try and wake herself up, her mind instantly snapping into overload as she knew if Ben woke her up then something must have happened.

"His fever's gone, he still has a temperature that's above normal, but he's not in any immediate danger now." The nurse couldn't help the broad smile that took over her face as she felt that Billy wasn't burning to the touch like he had been yesterday when she checked on him. He was still higher than they would like but with his temperature being nowhere near one hundred, it meant that he wasn't in any danger of his cells breaking down or his organs shutting down. He was at a safe temperature and if it kept going down it meant that the infection was clearing up.

"Fuck, me." Ben mumbled quietly as he rubbed his hands over his face, surprised at how badly he was shaking. He couldn't stop the smile that broke out on his face behind his hands at the prospect that Billy wasn't going to be in danger of passing away. They had been at the hospital for three days now and they had been at Billy's bedside because they knew that he was on the brink of passing away. They had been mentally preparing themselves for the moment they were told there was nothing else that could be done for him.

To hear that he was now getting better was a Godsend that Ben would never stop being grateful for.

The nurse grabbed a stethoscope and very gently placed the end under Billy's back to listen to his lungs to see how he was breathing.

"He's breathing much better as well. He still has to get rid of the infection and we'll need to check for any permanent damage, but I think it might be fair to say that you don't have to worry."

Turning herself around so she was facing Ben, (Y/n) brushed away the few tears leaving his eyes before he cupped her face in his trembling hands as he smiled a smile that she hadn't seen for a while. It was the kind of smile she remembered seeing when Ellie called him dad for the first time or when she said yes to marrying him. It was the smile he expressed when she told him she was pregnant with Billy.

"I told you he'd be okay." Ben whispered before he pressed his lips to hers with a sense of urgency. His thumbs brushed over her jaw and cheek as she could feel his tears mingling with her own.

Billy was going to be alright.

[josephthropp]

Steven Universe Future episodes, listed in order of least to most Steven Trauma featured

20. Why So Blue?

Glory be, there was actually an ENTIRE episode where Steven’s trauma pretty much didn’t manifest in any notable way. This episode was nice enough to let his trauma play second fiddle to Lapis’ trauma, since no other episode was gonna step up to the plate and let him enjoy himself. Astounding. All he has to do is be a little sad that the Lapises all gotta fight. Cake walk compared to the rest of these.

19. Guidance

There’s definitely a bit of the old trauma starting to brew here, with feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty about his future starting to crop up in Steven. There’s one pink moment, but it’s used in a very superpower way, and not in an anxiety way. Overall, it’s mostly wacky hi-jinx, with the tough stuff still being pretty light compared to the rest of the season.

18. A Very Special Episode

This one’s kind of hard to quantify the trauma in, since you could argue it really is just about Steven overbooking his schedule. On the other hand, you could look at that as him starting to overexert himself in an effort to please everyone in his life and feel needed. Also, this episode might not be canon, or was just a pre-recorded PSA. Either way, let’s just put it here.

17.  The Future

This one is also kind of hard to quantify, since it’s the only one that takes place after Steven has actually acknowledged and begun to work on his trauma. He’s working through it now, and better as managing the anxiety and other symptoms that result from it. The effects of it are definitely still present, though. From here on out, though, the trauma gets a LOT more easily identifiable.

16. Bismuth Casual

No pink moments, no tears shed, but trauma is definitely here. Steven is bad at talking to humans, to the extent that he worries that his best friend doesn’t really like him anymore. The poor little lad even fails so badly at small talk he tries to refer back to a huge point of his trauma as a funny, relatable moment. How do you do, fellow teens? I too am torn into, literally. There’s at least a happy ending, but there’s some bumps along the way.

15. Snow Day

Have you ever felt that you couldn’t measure up to a younger, more innocent version of yourself from two years ago that your guardians seem to miss and like more? Steven has! Luckily, he has a full time job he can redirect all his attention to that is fully capable of distracting him from these problems he should probably examine. Doesn’t every 16 year old? Another happy ending, but you gotta cringe and wince at some stuff to get there.

14. Little Homeschool

We got the series starting off strong with Steven immediately getting back to his roots of expending himself in the efforts to help other people at the cost of his own mental health. Jasper won’t go to Little Homeschool. Amethyst tells Steven that he’s not responsible for her shortcomings. Steven reaches out anyway, even when it results in a physical fight that leads to him going pink for the first time while Jasper derides him. This early on, though, that part is still just his cool new superpower.

13. Bluebird

Strange that the only episode with an outside force that is explicitly trying to murder Steven is this low on the list, but here we are. More Steven roots, with a new gem that wants him dead. He knows it from the start, but is convinced to give Bluebird a chance. Things go well, until Bluebird tries to murder him. There’s a surprise guest appearance from Greg’s trauma, with the loss of his hair disappointing everyone involved. All in all, nothing like two of the same people that contributed to you CPTSD showing back up to really augment the stress it causes.

12. Rose Buds

If ever there was an episode that just exuded an absolute feeling of second-hand embarrassment, this would be it. This is most definitely not the worst case of Rose/Pink trauma from Future, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to witness. Like a horrible car crash you keep watching, in awe of the horror of it all. “I’m dying, I’m dying, I am dead, I am dead Rose Quartz!” Indeed. That’s the same way I felt watching Steven keep accommodating each and every Increasingly Bad Idea.

11. Prickly Pair

Remember when the Future intro was revealed, and everyone assumed the Cactus Steven was gonna be some low-tier villain accidentally caused by Steven’s powers? Gee, did we get suckered. Turns out the real villain was introspection all along! If that poor little cactus did anything wrong, it was doing whatever was taught to it by the only person who gave it any guidance; Steven Universe, Noted Trauma Victim.

10. Little Graduation

It was a bit of a toss-up between Little Graduation and Prickly Pair for which one had more trauma. Prickly Pair had no pink outbursts, but it also didn’t have much in the way of even the meager reassurance Steven gets in Little Graduation that things will be okay. One thing Little Graduation does have, though, is the low point of Steven losing his direction. The job he thought might’ve been his purpose only leads to him being sad when old faces move on. Just like his friends. Plus there’s the whole issue of being unable to process change that he himself didn’t bear witness to. When he’s pulling off to the side of the road with a half eaten pizza just to look at the stars, you just know Steven is going through it.

9. In Dreams

How do you be friends with someone when you’re not preventing the end of a world? What do friends do? The answer that Steven and Peridot come to is roasting bad television, but not until Steven’s damaged psyche is literally projected for Peridot to witness. If he can’t do what his friends want him to, Steven’s first instinct is to beg them not to leave him, even if he doesn’t have anything to offer them. He’s naught but a cute little problem-solving machine, after all.

8. Together Forever

When you plan a wedding at the age of 14 in the immediate aftermath of finding out your rebel mother was actually the same tyrant she rebelled against, you might start to look at marriage as a quick band-aid for serious problems. Worried that you, a 16 year old without a plan for the future, will be inexorably separated from your 14 year old girlfriend when she seeks early admission to a college across the country? Just propose, and live as a fusion once she accepts! If she doesn’t, that’s cool too. You can just have an immediate and sharp depressive spiral.

7. Volleyball

Remember when I said Rose Buds wasn’t the peak of Rose/Pink Trauma? Good news, we just arrived at that peak! If learning about the selfish things your mother did had a negative impact on you before, then getting another one thrown onto the pile while you’re already volatile is probably not great. Steven’s pink side is finally shown as a destructive force instead of the superpower its been thus far. That “scream that could crack the walls” that Volleyball mentioned is second only to a stomp that can damage the entire Reef.

6. Mr. Universe

Steven Universe has always been very upfront about showing Steven’s dual heritage as an integral part of him. Steven Universe Future continues this trend by portraying his human trauma in conjunction with his gem trauma. If life with the gems and your diamond powers is getting you down and out, Steven, fret now. Mr. Universe is here to show you that your trauma will have the same consequences in your interpersonal relationships with human family and friends, too! 

5. Growing Pains

Okay, let’s say you’d willfully ignored the trauma for the entirety of the 13 episodes that came before this one. If that’s true, then you’re Steven, and Dr. Maheswaran is here to spell it out for you. Steven experienced trauma. This revelation leads to more trauma. You could make a case for this episode being number one on this list with the amount of traumatic incidents shown in the background during the diagnosis. Those are flashbacks, though. Traumatic flashbacks, but flashbacks nonetheless.

4. Homeworld Bound

Ooh, this traumatic venture has it all. Intrusive thoughts about murder, being faced with a reflection of what you’ve become, and hanging out with four people who all wanted you dead at some point. Double trauma when those same four people all seem to to be doing way better now, doing community service and living their best lives after you helped them out. Bonus round is rejecting the same life-changing advice you gave to one of them once upon a time.

3. Fragments

Jeez. A few years back, the Steven’s Knife episode jokes were just that jokes. Haha, he’s a funny kid that eats ice cream and only has a shield and bubble for defense. Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a joke where we pretended that he kept murdering people with a knife, since that’s obviously not a thing that would ever happen in the show? Ha.

2.  Everything’s Fine

Honestly I don’t even know why I put this one on the list. It’s the only episode without trauma. Steven is fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. This is fine. The title literally provides us with the information that this is fine. I love that comic of the cartoon dog having breakfast in the burning house.

1. I Am My Monster

Slight error here. Regular Steven Universe Future episode contains an amount of Steven Trauma that ranges from average to severe. I Am My Monster contains nothing except Steven Trauma from start to finish. Therefore, it is a statistical anomaly, and should not have been counted.

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Chapter 8 "Easy, son. We'll take this one step at a time. Just watch were yer walkin'," Daniel said to his son as they carried a wagon wheel over to the craftsman shed. "I'm fine, father. It would take quite a lot for my wounds to spring any leaks."

"That's what they all say until it happens. Exercise is good for mendin' the body. But the way you abuse yours, those wounds might not ever heal properly."

Kaleb helped his father hoist the massive wheel onto the augur then placed a securing pin through the vertical spindle. He looked over the array of tools then picked up one of the rawhide mallets and began vigorously tapping some wooden pegs into place.

"I'm just trying to get back into the fight, that's all. Once this thing heals, I'll be good as new," he said while pointing his thumb towards his back.

His father just shook his head and scoffed. "No question where you get your tenacity from, that's for sure."

"Hey. Once I'm done here, I would very much like to head on over to see Ulfgar. I haven't seen that old norn since before my deployment."

"He'll be delighted to see ya of course. Go right on ahead, son. I'll take care of things from here."

The elder Grimwald waved for his son to leave just as the youngest member came rushing out from the back kitchen door.

"Kaaaleeeb!"

"Katie! Hi sweetheart." His youngest sister rushed up to him then gave him a big hug.

"My goodness. You have the strength of a bear. Did some norn kid slip some animal spirit ale in your drink?" Kaleb laughed as he spun his youngest sister around. Within seconds, he winced in pain forgetting that the war wound was still quite painful.

But in spite of his injuries, he made absolutely sure to hold onto Katie as he gently brought her down to the ground.

"Awww. Does it still hurt? You don't need to spin me around if it hurts you."

He knelt down to look her in the eyes. "You don't hurt me one bit. I'm just a big, dumb brother who sometimes forgets his own limits sometimes. Isn't that right dad?"

Daniel smiled and waved to his youngest daughter then beckoned for her to come to him.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna help me fix up a wagon?"

She nodded then ran off to greet her father. Kaleb headed back inside to get into some better attire.

Several things had changed in the Grimwald household since Kaleb was away. For one, their family was one of the first to have indoor plumbing with hot and cold running water. And secondly, Rachel was taking a serious interest in attending one of the Asuran colleges in Rata Sum.

The warm shower felt so relaxing against his skin. A days' worth of grit and grime all washed away in a matter of minutes plus he never had to leave the house.

Warmth. He missed that sensation when she held his hands those five months ago. Her smile, although not human, was enough to bring a glow to his heart. Those amber eyes... how he longed for a chance to stare into them more deeply.

Kaleb closed his eyes as the steaming water streamed down his face. He could see her feline form lying on the bed, grooming herself. His mind began to wander, imaging other possibilities.

How would it be possible?

He pondered as he could feel his manliness rise to its fullest potential.

How would we be able to...

"Kaaaleeb. How long are you going to be in the bathroom?"

"Ahhh! Wait! Hold on just a minute Katie. I've gotta get dressed."

Jeese! Can't a man be left alone for just five minutes to contemplate carnal thoughts?

***

Kaleb headed to his familiar haunt, the Jotun's Corpse. If there was anyone in town who had connections to getting in touch with Amalthia, it would be him.

As he walked through the doors and towards his favorite barstool, he was immediately greeted by the mountainous norn who gave him the biggest, but one of the gentlest, bear hugs he had ever experienced.

"Welcome back to the lodge, boy! If I didn't know better, I swear I was looking at another norn."

"It's good to see you too, Ulf. So what makes you say that?"

"My boy. Tales of your ferocious battle have reached all the way to this humble watering hole. Normally I reserve bragging rights for myself, but today is your day."

The old norn grabbed a large copper goblet and spoon then started rapping the base of the drinking vessel with all his might. Everyone immediately took notice as the thunderous echo of his voice resonated throughout the tavern.

"Here ye. Here ye! Good denizens of Claypool. A newly minted town legend has returned and is standing before you today in these very halls. Kaleb Grimwald, a boy whom I knew since he was a wolf pup, has returned from a great battle and I am here to tell everyone of his heroic deeds."

"For it was those many months ago that he, and four of his bravest comrades faced and army of thousands of ravenous centaurs who were bent upon their total destruction. Did they falter?" Ulfgar paused then inclined his ear to the audience.

"NOoo!" The patrons shouted in unison.

"Did they shirk their duties?"

"NOo!"

"Were they victorious?"

"YESss!"

Kaleb stood there looking like a midget, compared to the norn, and just smiled. He knew that Ulfgar's days of adventure were long behind him and being able to tell a vicarious tale helped the old norn return to his glory days.

After the highly embellished account was finished and the merrymaking festivities had subsided, Kaleb sat down on his ever-familiar stool then soaked up as many lagers as his body could handle. He waited for a break in the revelry before asking the shaman about how to get in touch with a certain someone.

The old norn could sense that Kaleb had a question to ask so he went over and waved for the patrons nearby to leave. With the two of them sitting side-by-side Ulfgar folded his massive arms and smiled.

"What's on your mind, lad? You've got that I've-got-a-favor look on your face."

Kaleb knew that whenever Ulfgar referred to him as 'lad' it was on a much more serious and heartfelt note.

"First, I wanted to thank you for boasting about my heroic tale. And second, the numbers were just a wee bit inflated. It was hundreds of centaurs, not thousands."

"Bah. Just numbers. The people here know of your deeds and that is what they appreciate the most. Anyway, what was it that you really wanted to tell me?"

Kaleb traced the top of his stein with his left index finger before downing a draught. "Our suppliers were a couple of charr. The owner's daughter was the one who saved our lives. I just wanted to get in touch with her."

"Charrs, eh? Give me names, boy. That would be a good start."

"Let's see. The daughter's name is Amalthia. She has no last name since she's a gladium. And her father's name is Ludrick Crushsomethingorother."

"Crushblow! Centurion Ludrick Crushblow of the Fifty-First Blood Legion Brigade. Now that's a name I haven't heard mentioned by anyone in ages."

"So you know him?"

"Know him. Boy, he and I used to hang out all the time back during our great hunts. Every other week back when I lived just outside Hoelbrak, we could get together at the local pub and exchange some amazing tales. He's a good soul, lad. Don't let his fearsome appearance deceive you. He will stand by those who have honorable hearts," Ulfgar smiled as he took another drink.

"He always seemed like a grumpy old charr to me. But then, I never really got a chance to know him on a personal level like I did his daughter."

"Is that so? Well, what I can tell you is that there is more to him then you can possibly imagine. But in time, and if you are patient, you will learn these things."

"I hope to be that patient. By the way, what do you know about his daughter Amalthia?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. She was sent off to a fahrar before I really had a chance to know her. What I do know is that she was exiled from her warband for being unable to save one of her bandmates. It was supposedly due to her small physical size. Her warband leader blamed her for the death of their comrades and cast her out when she was nineteen. She's been living with her sire ever since."

"What about her mother? Amalthia mentioned her several times and in a none-too-good light I might add."

Kaleb downed the rest of his stein.

"Siri Blastfuse. Now that's a dam who has a heart as cold as Jormag itself. My advice - never cross her path."

"That bad, huh? I do know that Amalthia mentioned her mother more than once when listing off the negative things that went on in her life. She must have been a real bitch."

"Aaww. Now don't go insulting wolves that way, boy. My mother was Wolf Clan."

Kaleb looked at him sheepishly. "My apologies. I think the lager is taking effect. But I understand if you are unable to get in touch with her."

"No worries, lad. I'll find a way of keeping you and her in contact with each other."

"Good. If you can, I have a letter here that I've already written to her. If you can find a way, I would really appreciate it if you could forward it to her."

Kaleb handed the old norn a sealed envelope.

Tucking it into his shirt pocket, Ulfgar responded. "Consider it done, lad."

Feeling the effects of the alcohol, Kaleb tried to steady himself as he got up from his stool.

"Oh. One other thing... where is the nearest library?"

For the first time in their many years of knowing each other, Ulfgar was completely dumbstruck by the question. He scratched his beard for a moment with his fingers while pondering the question.

"Only one I know of is at the center of town. Why are you needin' a library for anyway?"

"Um. Learning new cooking recipes for when I get back into the army?"

"I think you've had too many lagers, boy. Go home to your folks and sleep it off. I promise it will all be better in the morning."

[shizekarnstein]

Ok let's get over this.

This fucking chapter? With the heartwrenching title? This is saddest thing I've read in YEARS.

I'll do a brief commentary of every chatacter.

Reiner: he's done. So done with everything. The only thing that keeps him going is saving those kids and like Bert 5 years ago, to put and end to everything. If they manage to stop Eren and Zeke in his mind everything will be alright. That's why he fought so desesperatly until the end, reafirming his words back from 5 years ago about Eren's possesion of the FT. When he sees Falco's transformation and that Zeke is apparently out of comission, he thinks the mission is over and his last act is to try and save Falco. He's at peace with his choice. Sadly for him Porco beats him to it, and seeing Porco sacrifice himself just like Marcel is the final nail: he snaps. I've never see him like that and wasn't ever aware he possesed that kind of determination. We'll see what's to become of him in the future.

Porco: oh god Porco. Finally touching Reiner, who was touching the FT, allowed him a glimpse into his brothers memory and to at last understand Marcel's feelings and the sheer love he had for him. He manipulated the military just to spare him and even died trying to protect other people. Not only that, he realised one of the reasons he saved Reiner is bc of guilt; after all Reiner was only in that island bc he couldn't bear to see his little brother enduring that burden. When Zeke and Colt are conversing and Zeke states that he totally understands where Colt is coming from, he's deeply shaken. That's why he decides to save Falco. He has the power to, and is once and for all free of all the doubts he had concerning his own brother and his own place in the world. He could had let Falco eat Reiner, but choose to offer up himself. I shed bitter tears for him, bc it was not only very brave but also such a caring gesture; just as his brother chose to save him and later Reiner, and witnessing Colt trying to comfort Falco until the end, he decided that saving Falco was the right thing to do.

Zeke. Agh. Everything about Zeke hurt me. How can someone commit such vicious acts and at the same time remain so utterly human about his decisions? It was portrayed marvelously. Even empathizing with Colts feelings and caring about his former comrades, he still makes the choice to scream and complete his mission. His worry for Eren beyond just a part of his goals has always been clear to me, but I dare anyone to read this chapter and say that Zeke doesn't give a fuck about Eren. He loves him. And seeing himself in Colt and even Eren in Falco shook him so much. He felt remorse for what he was about to do, and decided to sacrificing them still despite of that. Zeke is an amazingly complex character and I can't wait to see what's he going to do now. Did you all see his face and his frantic attempts to reach out to Eren? The sheer sorrow in his eyes when Gabi pulled the trigger? Im devastated along with him.

Colt. I don't know what to say about Colt. Just thinking about him has me sobbing. How he begged and plead with his former mentor to please spare his brother. At that point he didn't give two flying fucks about the war and eldia and marley. The only thing he wanted was his brothers safety. He tried to appeal to Zeke, to remind him that the only reason he had joined up is bc he didn't want his family, a family of former traitors, to be titanized. And after everything he tried that exact scenerio would still happen. He even clarifies that the only thing he wants is time to get Falco away from hearing range, just a few minutes. After all Zeke would never harm children. Sadly, even though his feelings reached Zeke, it's all for nothing. He failed. And even then he spent his last seconds hugging his brother and reassurring him. If that was the end he wasn't about to let go of Falco and leave him alone. He was going to die, and Falco was about to turn into a mindless titan, but he could still share one last embrace with his little brother. After all what's the point anymore if Falco is a gonner? Excuse me I'll never stop crying about this. Colt loved him so deeply and still he couldn't save him how is this ok?????

Eren.

Oh Eren.

A quick check into my profile would tell you that he's my absolute favorite character. As you can guess this chapters been hell to me. There's no much I can say about him without ugly sobbing all over my phone, but here's a few things. Eren cares. His face when he noticed the 104th was out there fighting. His terror that anything bad would happen to one of them again. His expression when he heard Colts pleas. Im 100% sure he's gonna be alright but I didn't need to see a panel of his head getting blown up. It's the stuff of nightmares for me. I love him the best, and seeing him getting hurt like that or even terrified like in the rest of the chapter hits me ten times stronger than if the same thing was happening to any other character. I've already cried rivers over him. And I pray with all my strenght next months delivers swift answers regarding his fate bc Im physically unable to bear this anxiety and sorrow for longer than that.

I could talk about Pieck or the Military of Paradis. I could talk about Armin, Mikasa, Connie and Jean and how great it was seeing them in action again. I could even talk about Floch and how he's again the sole survivor of his squadron in the same fucking city. Even Yelena's creepy panel merits tons of analysis.

Instead of that Id like to end this post talking about Gabi.

Gabi is a character that always made me uncomfortable bc I can't bear the idea of child soldiers. It's sickening and disgusting and all manners of fucked up. Shes a brainwashed child soldier to boot. What a joy. Violence is second nature to her thanks to her enviroment and her training. Beneath all that tho, she is a selfless girl that only wants to save her people.

This chapter we see her grabbing a fucking horse to help Falco get away from the range of Zeke's scream. I teared up right then. After that she witness Falco's transformation along side with Colts death. And then Porcos death. When she sees a chance to stop the man that's the center of all this conflict, filled with grief, she grabs it. That is the same man that wrecked her hometown and caused the deaths of her friends. The same man that's right now running towards Zeke, for who she has mixed feelings bc even if he's betraying them she knew him. It's easier to pour all her pain into Eren, someone she doesn't have sentimental ties with. That's why she shoots. It's easy to understand and even if her sudden mastering of a new gun model without repercutions raises a few eyebrows, that's all there is to it. That a child is so used to violence to make the decision so quickly fills me with pain.

That's all y'all I'll be over here crying my eyes out and praying for Eren.

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

Michael gets injured and Alex worries and helps him

when all those shadows almost killed your light

“Liz? What’s wrong?” A phone call at 0300 hours is never a good thing, especially given the recent turn their lives have taken.

“Hi Alex.” Liz sounds more hesitant than urgent which is enough for his body to relax, seeking the sleep he had been lucky enough to find earlier.

“I still don’t know why Max told me to call you but, um, it’s Michael.”

Alex is instantly awake and sitting up, already reaching for his prosthetic. It’s been less than six hours since they had returned from Caulfield. Alex can’t bear the thought that something else may have happened to him after all of that.

“What’s going on, Liz? Where are you?” Alex keeps his voice calm and concise even as the fear coursing through him threatens to debilitate him. The Air Force didn’t train him in preparation for this exact moment, but it is definitely working to his advantage.

“We’re at Sanders’ Auto. Michael parks his trailer here.” Alex bristles at Liz acting like this is new information for him, but he can’t fault her for not knowing that Alex can find his way to Michael’s in his sleep. That’s how he had wanted it for so long after all. “Underneath you’ll find—”

“The bunker. Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t mean to snap at her but she is clearly avoiding his first question. “What happened?”

“He’s in a coma, Alex.”

The fear takes over, less of a wave and more like a wall he’s hit head on leaving him frozen halfway between his bedroom and the front door. Nova comes scurrying out behind him, pawing at his leg. Whether it’s to check on him or to shove him on his way toward Michael he doesn’t know but he is grateful for her.

Rational thought breaks through the expanding sense of panic inside his chest and his mind tries to form an picture of what could have happened. He needs facts but he doesn’t want them over the phone.

“I’m on my way.” He hangs up without listening to anything else Liz might have to say.

The drive into town takes no time at all, his mind too focused on getting to Michael to be aware of something as insignificant as time. The airstream is already moved out of the way and a piece of plywood covers the opening in the ground. He makes quick work of heaving it out of place and hurries down the ladder as fast as his leg will allow.

Liz is waiting for him at the bottom. She looks tired and there’s a bruise blooming on her forehead but she offers him a reassuring smile that he doesn’t trust. His eyes stray from her immediately searching for the reason he’s here.

Michael is laid across the table in the center of the room with no visible wounds but far too still for someone who bursts with life the way he does. Michael is never still, even when he’s sleeping. Isobel sits on a stool at his side, one hand holding his and the other resting on Max’s where it lays on her shoulder, the two of them guarding their brother and never taking their eyes off of him. He makes quick note of Isobel’s pale skin and how Max leans against her in a way that’s due more to injury than exhaustion. The three of them paint a tableau of fear and pain.

His attention diverts to Michael and he becomes his sole focus. He’s torn between the desperate need to rush to his side, to feel his pulse and the warmth of his skin, and the hope that if he doesn’t get any closer it might all be an illusion. Need wins out but his approach is slow with trepidation.

Alex had always loved to watch Michael sleep in the rare moments he’s had the chance, before his own cowardice inevitably pulls him away. Warm and sated beside him, he always looked so young and unguarded. He looked happy and Alex always hoped it was at least partly because of him, and if not, he hoped that he was at least getting some of the quiet that he forever sought while awake.

But this isn’t sleep, this is unconscious, and sneaking out of bed in the early morning hours won’t be enough to wake him.

“What happened?” His voice is soft but raw, a far cry from the composed soldier he tried to project on the phone. Standing there in a secret alien bunker he feels like the seventeen year old kid only Michael can summon these days, and with that youth comes dread and doubt.

“Noah.” Isobel’s voice is full fury but her eyes stay gently resting on Michael’s face.

“Where is he?” Alex feels a sudden need to shield Michael’s body, as if Noah could materialize at any moment.

“Dead.” Unlike Isobel, Max lets his rage consume him, eyes darkening and the hand not touching Isobel coiling into a fist. Alex doesn’t need to ask who is responsible for that.

When neither of them offer any more information on Michael’s condition, Alex feels like he’s about to explode. Luckily, Liz can sense his growing tension and steps in to explain in that cool and methodical way of hers everything that Alex needs to know.

“We think Noah’s consciousness is holding on, trying to find a vessel. Isobel entered Michael’s mind and she could sense Noah in there but he’s getting weaker. Kyle stopped by and he says nothing is physically wrong with him so once Noah has faded, Michael should wake up.”

“Should, right.” Alex ignores Liz’s uncertainty, because he is going to wake up, he has to.

Instead he fans the sparks of petty annoyance that Kyle was called before him. He’s glad that they got Michael checked out and grateful that he is alright, but still he wishes he had been called sooner. A tiny, cruel voice in his head whispers that if he was more honest with his friends they would know to contact him with anything regarding Michael. He’s lucky Max knew, although he has no idea why Michael would choose to confide in him.

Alex steps closer, burying his fingers through sweat matted curls, his thumb brushing back and forth against his temple where he can feel the steady rhythm of Michael’s pulse. He stares intently at his face, willing him to wake up and say something inappropriate but still frustratingly charming.

“Isobel, do you think you can try again?”

“Liz, no.” Max’s tone is sharp in a way Alex has never heard him use with Liz. He doesn’t dare look away from Michael though.

“It’s okay Max, I’ll be fine.” The stool scrapes across the floor as Isobel moves in closer. “Michael’s head is a bit of a mess,” she explains, and Alex thinks it’s directed towards him although still doesn’t look up.

“Noisy.” Alex remembers that first night in the tool shed. The weird boy who talks about entropy and plays the guitar so beautifully that his inner peace exudes from him and touches everyone lucky enough to be close to him.

“Yeah. It’s hard for me to stay in there too long.” Isobel’s tone is skeptical but whatever questions she may have, she keeps to herself for now.

The room falls silent, only the low whirring of fans invading the space, while Isobel does whatever it is she does. After several minutes of waiting, Alex hears her sharp gasp from over his shoulder followed by the sounds of sloshing liquid and desperate gulps. He watches Michael’s face for any sign of change but his features remain perfectly still.

“Noah is gone. I couldn’t find him anywhere.” A few panting breaths filled the air as they all looked to Michael. “It was quieter in there this time. I think he could sense you were here.” He can feel both Liz and Isobel’s eyes on him but he resists the urge to glare back.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Alex has never been more grateful for Max Evans.

“Are you guys sure it’s psychic and not physical.” His fingers tighten in Michael’s hair as thoughts of TBIs and alien caused brain tumors flood his mind. “Should we get his head scanned?”

“No hospitals,” the Evans’ say in creepy twin unison.

“Did you see anything else? Could you find Michael?” Liz steps closer to the table now. She lays a hand lightly on Michael’s arm and squeezes before drawing back.

“He wouldn’t talk to me.” A thin layer of frustration coats the worry in Isobel’s voice but Alex can hear it as clearly as he feels it. “I don’t think he could hear me. And there was this blonde woman with him but I have no idea who the hell she is.”

An icy stab of pain pierces Alex straight through his heart and melts leaving nothing but cold weighing heavy inside of him. Michael had whispered every detail of what he’d seen on the drive home, over and over, committing to memory something Alex knew was already permanently a part of him.

He ignores the chatter around him as the others wonder who the mysterious blonde could be. Of course Michael wouldn’t tell them. Of course he would shield them from the horrors the world has forced on him once again.

Alex raises his other hand to rest against Michael’s chest feeling the slow and even breaths he takes. He leans down and rests his lips against the damp skin of Michael’s forehead in a way that can’t really be called a kiss. The bunker goes quiet again and he knows he will only be stirring up more questions for Michael but his mouth is already forming the words before he can overthink what he’s about to say.

“You need to wake up, Guerin. She’ll always be with you. That memory she gave you is a gift that nobody can take away from you. But she wanted you to live, Guerin, so you need to come back.” With a little more pressure he leaves a searing kiss before nudging his nose against his hairline. “Come back to me, Michael.”

In a movie this would be the moment where Michael’s eyes flutter open and instantly meet Alex’s with a loving gaze. In reality it takes a few breathless minutes before a low groan follows an arm flying up to clutch at an aching head, eyes shut tight in obvious pain.

Isobel, Max, and Liz crowd closer, all of them talking at once. Alex firmly tells them to back the fuck off. It’s then that Michael’s eyes open, blinking against the overhead light but finding Alex anyway.