#like I feel like things may suddenly fall apart and I should have saved that money just in case

[hanhowls]

.

#Bought like 5+ different clothing pieces yesterday and its tripping me up #does anyone else feel guilty when they buy themselves anything? #like I feel like things may suddenly fall apart and I should have saved that money just in case #but also wow ive never been able to afford anything like that for myself until now #half is for an upcoming party but still #personal

[hotheadedhero]

All That's Left

There's routine and there's getting used to change. Some are quickly adaptable but, depending on the circumstance, it isn't always that easy.

Leonardo x Reader

Warning: angst

Being a ninja has its perks: one can evade the eyes of man whilst making way to their destination. However, even with such skill, moving through the night is more optimum, especially for Leonardo. Shifting over buildings and hiding around dumpsters is one thing but more open areas are difficult to navigate whilst adhering to the element of stealth. Luckily, the elements are in his favour: the downpour of rain shielding him by both sound and sight. He isn’t typically one to go to such lengths to get to one place unless it’s in the name of a mission but this has become a routine as of late. He does it as frequently as he can given his circumstances but it never feels as though it makes up for all of that lost time. By now, he knows this path like the back of his hand: sneak past ground watch, jump over the gate, and take the fifth walkway from the left. A few more paces and he’s made it. His observance is dim but his lips pull as best as they can at her sleeping form.

"Hey," he greets quietly. "Sorry, it’s been a few days since my last visit."

Despite the blank, paling face that stares back at him, his smile remains. He lays the flowers down and kneels before her.

"I would have brought everyone else with me but I decided to be a bit selfish today. Just the two of us. I hope that’s okay.”

Again, silence follows and he readjusts his sitting position to get comfortable.

"Things have been quiet lately," he continues, his eyes absentmindedly gazing over her bed. "I'd say it's a nice change but I wouldn’t mind the distraction."

He huffs a laugh and his head cranes towards his shoulder before straightening again. The gentle pierce of his brown stare wanders over the rest of the cold space that surrounds them. Despite having come here for the last two months, there’s still something new to look at. He remembers when he first heard of this being her new residence and how long it took to adjust. Often, he still finds himself heading towards her old apartment out of muscle memory. 

"I know it probably sounds like a broken record at this point but everyone misses you. I… miss you.” 

There’s a grasp on his throat, a squeeze that only tightens the more he tries to fight it. He swallows past the restriction, mouth dry, tongue suddenly alien to him. Just keep a level head. This isn’t anything new by now. His cheeks cave in against the deep intake of air. 

"There's a lot I should have said when I had the chance," he whispers hoarsely, though no words follow in this empty promise of rectification. 

He can’t do it. His eyes clamp shut with his lips, firmly pressed to hold back the internal incursion. He can't even bring himself to say it: what he wants to say; what he's wanted to say for so many years. There's no point knowing that he'll never get an answer. His fingers dig into the sodden ground, pulling away the strands of grass that have only just begun to grow above her. It breaks beneath his palms and sullies the very hands that tremble under his hunched body. He should remain composed. He shouldn’t fall apart like this. Is it not he who should be able to think straight during dire circumstances such as this? Be the voice of reason? For his family but not himself it seems. Not right now. 

With a heavy, laboured breath, his head pries upward to meet her grey face once more. The carved letters of her name stare back at him, dowsed in rain and he can only hope, wherever her spirit may be, that she isn’t crying for him. He doesn’t deserve her tears. He was in South America saving all of those people when he should have been here to save her. If he had come home when he was supposed to, this never would have happened. Leonardo and his brothers would have been back doing patrol before any of this could become a reality. She would still be alive. She would still be with him. He took her for granted and now he’s paying the ultimate price. 

“I thought I might find you here,” a voice calls out to him. 

A familiar voice. Not the one he’d be wishing for but a welcome one nonetheless. He tears his gaze away from the gravestone to be met by his friend April, who kneels beside him. She tilts her umbrella so that he may be sheltered too and together they sit quietly. Rain is their only comfort with this mutual understanding of unrest in the air. There isn’t anything that can be said to make better of this; nothing that hasn’t already been repeated countless times. 

With the clouds readying their part for day’s oncoming dawn, April takes her stand and outstretches a hand to her friend. He waves his muddied fingers with a pathetic attempt at a laugh and rises lethargically.

“Come on. You can’t hold onto this guilt forever, Leo,” she reminds him, just as everyone has been since his return. “She’d want you to let go.”

He's not sure he'll ever be able to rest on that idea. Not until he learns how to say goodbye, at least - the last word he had said to her so carelessly, not realising it would indeed be goodbye.

This is something shorter and a bit different but an idea that would not leave for the life of me. Hope you enjoyed!

#angst #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2007 #2007 leo #leonardo #leo #leonardo x reader #x reader #fem reader #3rd pov #sad #fanfiction #no use of y/n

[antianakin]

I think something a lot of fans of Anakin tend to forget about him is that his story is told and looked at in reverse: the effect of his actions (Vader and the Empire) were shown an written before the cause (him being a Jedi and then falling). Vader, the irredeemable monster, being forgiven by Luke, is supposed to be a statement on Luke’s character, not Anakin’s. Vader isn’t post Anakin, Anakin is pre-Vader. Framing him like that, it’s suddenly clear just how flawed and terrible Anakin was even before he took a nosedive off the diving board of common sense (if he was ever on it)

The redemption that so many fans want to give Vader, then, is framed in film less as Vader realizing he’s wrong and doing a 180. It’s Luke recognizing how close he is to becoming Vader, choosing a better path, and getting tortured for it. Honestly, as far as Vader’s actual redemptive moment, it’s a fairytale moment of “death equals redemption” that holds up in the narrative of Luke’s story, but wouldn’t actually accomplish anything for Vader.

All that to say… Anakin should be recognized as being Pre-Vader, and if someone wants to do a fixit good ending story with him they either need to kill him off or spend a LOT of time getting him to actually recognize his failures and then turn away from them.

(Unfortunately, that’s a LOT of *work*, so most people just woobify him and call it a day. Thank you for your work of correcting this misunderstanding, and sorry for the long ask 😅)

In fairness, Lucas had a pretty good amount of the story from the Prequels WRITTEN already, he just ended up having to make the story in reverse, which is why there's references to Anakin having been a Jedi who fell and the Clone War. But most of it is just that... references. We ARE focused on Luke's story and so Anakin's background is there to, as you say, highlight LUKE'S choices and struggles and triumphs. We never find out why Anakin did the things he did in the OT (aside from Obi-Wan's comments about his own arrogance in trying to train Anakin which the Prequels retconned anyway), so Anakin's choices are a reflection on Luke more than anything else because Luke is the character we actually know.

And... yeah. Anakin's redemption is difficult for me because I get why it happened the way it did in the OT. Anakin's biggest crimes within the context of JUST what we see in the Original Trilogy are against Luke himself (chopping off the arm, killing Obi-Wan) and so the fact that he dies by saving Luke means he's fairly directly addressed those crimes and made amends for them. He can die having fixed those mistakes and forgiven by the person he's hurt the most. It works. But adding in the Prequels means now there's the Tuskens he murdered, Padme who he manipulates and betrays, the Republic he's dismantled, and the Jedi Order that he betrays and genocides (and adding in TCW means we can also include the clones that he betrays and enslaves). And now all of the sudden there's a LOT more that we have directly seen him do that needs to be redeemed and a lot more amends he needs to make and a lot more people whose forgiveness he doesn't have and will likely never get. There's a lot of things that killing Palpatine can never and will never fix or undo. It doesn't directly address almost ANY of those sins. And so this sudden redemption via death stops feeling so satisfying because it just... doesn't actually mean anything in the face of what we've now seen him do.

Like you say, it holds up if you just look at Luke's narrative, but it falls apart when you look at Anakin's own.

Redeeming Anakin while taking into account everything he has done over the Prequels, TCW, Rebels, the Obi-Wan Kenobi show, and anything else that's been written for him in other media would be a difficult story to write. It WOULD take a lot of time, he may never actually completely redeem himself for what he's done because he may never truly be able to let go of some of those fears or some of his guilt and grief. He may never quite lose the instinct to react to things with violence. It SHOULD be messy and complicated, but that's not always the most satisfying story to write or even to read, so that's where we end up with woobified Anakin who just gets to do one slightly goodish thing and call it a day.

#star wars #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #luke skywalker #never apologize for a long ask!

[thenotsoholyspirit]

Holding (Pt 4/5)

Matt Murdock x reader (angst)

(Here for part 1, 2 , 3)

AU: Hey, I know it's been a while since I've posted on this series but writers block has been a real deal for me these past days. Although, I still have a lot of ideas and a whole other series to end so stay tuned 💙 (and yes that includes the Foggy fic :3)

Summary: A conversation in the roof may offer a change in the situation. After all, sometimes all you need is faith.

I've never been quite the best catholic. 

From making a fuss in my baptism, to refuse ever to marry, I was quite the shame in a family of faithful believers. 

“Sometimes you have to believe without seeing” 

I always hated that idea, blind faith. And yet in spite of everything I still accompanied my mother every Sunday to our city's chapel. Soon after I moved out, that routine was still ingrained in me, and despite not having a logical answer to it, I kept going to mass. 

That’s how I met him. The one that would soon become both my salvation and my perdition. The one I was risking it all for in spite of everything. 

“He can’t be that far, please he can’t be that far

As the day progresses, I feel a sense of desperation crawl on me, noticing how the streets get busier and I haven't yet found any clue to His whereabouts.

Not a sight of him close to his old apartment or even old hangout spots.

He had indeed erased every trace he could have left

As I feel the day progress, I sigh. Maybe these extreme circumstances also required extreme decisions. I decide to head down to the Presidential Hotel.

————-——

When I arrive, I immediately notice the multitude of police cars and security guards surrounding the building. It couldn’t be more obvious that someone important was brought to this place

Sneaking up, I try to see if there’s any entry, but it’s obviously closed up to the public.

“Well I may need to broaden my definition of entry then”

As my attention catches  some fire escape stairs attached to a building not far behind, I can’t help but let out a small grin. After spending so much time with him, knowing Matt’s way of thinking had become almost a second nature.

It was probably too early, as I will surely need to wait for him hidden on some rooftop, but to simply think about the vertigo was enough to make my stomach turn.

“C'mon (y/n) remember just have faith.”

I start then to awkwardly climb up the ladder making sure not to startle the whole neighbourhood.

For a moment, I feel comfortable, pacing my steps and taking deep breaths, until I hear the crackling sound of a metal piece falling from the wall.

I gulp

“For God sake I'm a vet not a gymnast”

Yet the top doesn’t seem too far now and the idea of returning was worse. I decide to keep climbing.

Suddenly, I lose my equilibrium, feeling the void as I fall from my back until I feel the grip of a hand on my arm, saving me from a surely fatal fall.

“(Y/n) ?”

I look up, noticing a man dressed completely in black with only a beanie covering his face, and some cords attached to his wrists. He seems genuinely surprised to find me here. 

“Matt”

“I…” I’m short of words as he pulls me into the safety of the rooftop. I fall down the floor deeply breathing, “How did you know I was here”

“Well.. He tries to give me a small smile ,  “You were lucky I could basically hear your heartbeat explode streets away” 

“.. I must sound like a cacophony in your ears… but I’m sure there are also thousands of New-Yorkers being deeply worried at this very moment”

“ I guess.. I just became good picking up yours in particular”

I cannot help but to slightly blush as he tells me this. There is a tense silence now between us, too many things that should be said or should’ve.

“Don’t go” 

My tone is grave, letting him know I know his reasons for coming down here.  He slightly clenches his teeth, as I feel an anger I haven’t seen yet in him.

Something had happened.

Something felt broken

“I need to do it (y/n)” 

His tone was direct. Cold. He turns his back from me towards the Hotel. I imagine him trying to analyze the best way to get in, reading into each heartbeat , each voice, each movement…. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“You aren't saving anyone by doing this..please..” 

Matt immediately snaps, turning again towards me. I was still on the floor and the bare light coming from the light poles made him appear even more intimidating.

“You don’t understand”…

“True… it’s true I don’t, I’m not you… “, I sigh, accepting it, “I’ll never fully understand this vigilante double life you live.. but I do see the man behind it”

I now stand up, letting us face to face as I continue to talk.

“I and see him and care enough about him that I’m not letting him commit a mistake he’ll forever regret” 

I see Matt keep his facade, but I notice the way his hands now slightly tremble holding his billy club. When he talks again, his voice is weaker.

“He has hurt so many people… and I’'m not meant to simply go and enjoy this life after all that has happened”, He takes his beanie off as I now see  his eyes “After hurting so many others... me.”´

I shake my head. I couldn’t lie, or deny the hurt of past decisions, but it didn't mean I could simply let him go.

“I'm not denying that it’s not easy but.. I’m here tonight for a reason… “ 

I look up to him, hoping he could sense the sincerity of my words

“I can’t let you do this.. this city needs its hero.. and well.. I do still need you”

I let these last words settle as I’m now a bit shy. I see Matt is about to reply, when we’re suddenly interrupted by some police sirens demanding civilians to clear up the space. His face drops.

“He can't be here already….”

I’m now a bit confused.

“Who ?”

Matt sighs, he seems tired but tries to explain to me the best he can. 

“I’m not the only one in this city holding a grudge against Fisk..” Matt leans again his attention towards the building “ There is a dangerous man looking for him” 

I notice the way his body tenses up, the same way it has always done when he senses a danger nearby. His grip becomes stronger, his face almost scarily stern, yet the voice he uses to catch my attention seems softer than usual.

“That night I.. I was sure I had lost you forever.. and who could blame you..” He gives me a sad smile, trying his best to hold his emotions. “I had to live with the fact that I had hurt you.. forced you to pull away from me..this loneliness.. it was my crux to bear”

I shake my head at his words, trying to be as direct as I could knowing time was running out.

“Matthew… I love you.. I still do..” I slowly approach him , caressing his cheek with my hand as I clean away some tears  “I just need to be sure you do as well” 

Almost as a reflex, I go grab his arm, feeling my own insecurities resurface as the fear of being abandoned twists my heart. He seems to pick up on this as he pulls me closer. I can feel the breeze on his words.

“ I swear.. “ Me murmurs against my ear, his voice now taking a more protective tone “That I’ll never let go of you again… “

I’m now the one letting my own tears stream down my face 

“You promise ?” 

My voice was so small, barely a whisper , as I use the tone I knew only Matt could ever hear

“I won’t stop even if you never forgive me”

I can’t retain myself any longer.

I dive in, pulling him into the deepest of kisses as I feel my whole body give in. The desire that has already been pleading for him could not no longer keep on waiting. 

Matt seems slightly surprised at the beginning, almost nervous at my reaction, but once he notices my unwillingness to let him go, he puts his hands around my waist our foreheads now touching. I need to hang on to him. 

“I’ve missed it so much” , he murmurs for just a moment, forgetting the world around us. I give him a little smile, slightly curious at his choice of words as he continues, “ I mean the feeling of you… your heartbeat, your smell…you've always been my safest place…I thought I’d never get to sense you from so close again” 

As I’m about to respond, the noise of police sirens shakes us up as we hear  the sound of gunshots down the building. Of course, Matt has more insight as he clenches his teeth and steps back.

“Go,” I look at him with a knowing look “I know you have a job to do”

I come a bit closer for a moment.

“Just promise me you will come back home tonight” 

I keep holding his hand for a second, sensing his flow of thoughts coming against him. He mutters again. 

“All this anger..”

“I know.. but you don't have to be alone anymore Matt” I take deep breaths as I try to send him some peace too, “I’ll be here”

He walks to the edge of the ceiling, pulling his mask back on. I give him a last reassuring look.

“I’ll leave the living room window open.. in case you come in late” , my tone is slightly hesitant “Of course if you want to come by I-“

I notice the corners of his lips curl into a little smirk.

“I will… and don’t worry”, he slightly tosses his head as he smiles, letting me admire his toned collar bone for even just a second., … “I promise I won’t take too long sweetheart” 

Before I can even protest his cocky words, he jumps off the next building, leaving me alone again, but now completely blushing. I may have also missed that pet name and his way of flirting.   

Some things really don't change after all.

#daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #marvel x reader #daredevil x reader angst #matt murdock x reader angst

[melonba11s]

A Fate Worse Than Death (TINR Strade/MC)

I received a prompt to write out some TINR Strade! I had a lot of fun with this. Strade in TINR is a lot more cruel than BTD Strade I think, though we don't see too much of him. I see him as being a lot more volatile, perhaps even a little more self absorbed than BTD Strade.

Please be aware of the warnings, things are kinda nasty here!

Contains: TINR Strade, Gender-Neutral MC, Non-Con, Torture, Amputation, Cauterization, Captivity, Abuse of Position, War Crimes, mentioned non consensual cyborgification (I don't have a better way to put this), descriptions of cooked human flesh, Non-consensual kissing, Fallen Civilization, Tentacles, Non-Con Tentacles, implied genital mutiliation, No Merciful End.

Your feet pounded against the ground, the distant sound of rubble falling and screams echoing around you. Maybe several months ago that sound would have disturbed you, made you run back to help those you could. 

That feeling no longer existed. You were numb to it, focused solely on your own survival. There was a shelter just 2 miles away or so. You think. The area should be familiar, you grew up here. But now it’s been reduced to fallen buildings and small craters. 

War is hell. This had to be hell you were living in. Just last year you remember walking down this same street, not fearing for your life. Your chest heaved, each breath felt like razors from your lungs as you scrambled over a wall. 

Of all the soldiers to be scared of though, there was one that word was spreading very rapidly. Crueller than the others, he didn’t care for the difference between soldier and civilian. He would just laugh as he tore them apart with his robot companions. 

You had never even realized that technology like that could exist. You groaned as you got down onto your knees, gasping for breath. Here, this had to be far enough away for you to rest for just a moment. Your arms were shaking as you stared at the ground, vision doubling. 

Just a few minutes later, you got back to your feet and dashed back out into the open, eyes towards your destination with intent. 

Something caught your ankle, and you fell forward though. Groaning at your shit luck, you moved to get up after tripping… and found whatever caught your ankle had stayed there, it’s grip not moving despite your kick to get it off. 

“Gotcha” the voice hit you, sending a shudder up your spine that was so powerful you felt as if he had ripped it from your back. You glanced back, eyes wide with fear as you finally took him in. 

If this was any other situation, you might have found him attractive. Golden eyes, curly brown hair, a joyful smile plastered on his face. But in a different situation, he wouldn’t be aiming those metal tentacles at you, poised and ready to burn you alive. 

“You’re a slippery little thing, you know?” he said casually, flicking sweat off of his brow as if you both had just gotten done with a good natured race. “See, I saw you a few weeks ago. I thought to myself… “I want to play with them.”” 

You swallowed roughly, a whimper of fear escaping your throat in spite of yourself as he got down onto one knee to look you in the eyes. 

“But you… You’re very good at hiding. I lost track of you almost immediately. You’re lucky my partner isn’t here, she may have distracted me with her babbling. Now I finally got you, and I can have some fun.” 

You let out a shriek as the appendage around your ankle suddenly yanked upwards, leaving you dangling upside down, face to face with him now. 

You needed to do something, say something in this situation to save yourself. Tears were already fast welling up within your eyes as you hung there silently. 

“P-Please… I didn’t do anything wrong, sir-” you began, only for him to laugh. 

“”Sir”?!” he looked at his robot, as if exchanging a look of amusement with it. “How polite! No need for that though… You can call me “Strade.”” His grin took on a more sadistic turn now. 

At first you only felt the tendons and muscles in your leg pulling farther. It felt like the strings of flesh that made up the leg  were growing taut, breaking one by one. Then a snap, and you let out a scream to join the others as you fell to the ground, now missing a leg. 

You looked up at the sky, dazed as he waved your removed appendage above you, raining your own blood onto you. Then the ungodly pain hit you, and you began to wail, moving to sit up, crawl away, ANYTHING to help yourself. 

“Whoops! You’re a little fragile it seems.” Strade said, looking down at you with a cocked brow. “Here let me cauterize that for you, can’t have you bleeding out.” 

“DON’T TOUCH ME.” you managed. He didn’t listen, he had no reason to. Searing pain, the smell of burning flesh and cooking meat, the sound of the fat in your stump rendering and sizzling against the green flames. Your eyes rolled back up into your head, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

At least if you passed out you could escape this. The world plummeted away into forgiving darkness for only a moment though before you were dragged back, kicking and screaming by him lifting you by your arm now. 

“Hey! Don’t pass out! I can’t have fun like that!” He shook you, spraying something down your throat. Water? Instincts made you gulp down at it greedily, despite it coming too fast. It was spilling down your front and as you began to cough and choke, he took the canister away. 

His grin danced in front of your face again now, staring down at you. 

“Ah… How cute.” He mumbled. “I wish I could fuck you right now but. This suit is a pain to get off. Takes me almost 20 minutes every night, could you believe it?” he laughed. You whimpered, flipping yourself onto your stomach in an attempt to crawl away. A hand on your back, fingers digging into your skin, stopped you. 

“Hey.” Strade’s voice took on a heated growl now. “I said I wanted to have fun with you. And I will.” you whimpered, pressing your face into the dirt. He was going to kill you anyways, why couldn’t he just get it over with? 

With a sick lurch in your stomach you realized this had to be the man who was gaining such a reputation for his cruelty. You grit your teeth, holding back more tears, not wanting to drown in self pity just now. If he was distracted with you, that meant there’d be time for others to escape him- 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of air on your skin, as you heard the sound of fabric tearing. You whipped your head back, watching in horror as he threw your pants aside, then pet one of his robot tentacles like a dog. 

“We’ll just have to settle for this!” he said, grinning down at you. “Try not to enjoy it too much!” he gave your head the same pet he gave his robots, your eyes wide with horror as the tentacle plunged into you. 

You let out a caterwauling scream as it pushed your flesh aside, into your freshly exposed entrance. Not caring what it tore, what it hit, it quickly began to piston in and out of you. It was deriving no pleasure from this though, he just wanted to see you squirm. 

You threw your head back to scream again, staring at him and begging an unasked question. 

“Let me guess.” he said, smiling as he continued to play with your hair, a tender gesture that contrasted sharply with the violence he was inflicting. “You want to know why?” 

Snot was running down your nose as your tears flowed anew. He leaned in close, and you gave a gag as he suddenly kissed you, messy, tongue invading your mouth. It felt as much of a violation as his appendage destroying your sex. 

You bit down on his tongue quickly, content to have at least this bit of control and resistance. Strade lurched back with a hiss of pain, his hand instantly on his mouth to inspect the damage you caused. Blood trickled out of his mouth as he felt his wounded tongue, still smiling. In fact, he looked even more excited now. 

“Because I can” he answered, standing back up and planting a boot on your back to hold you in place. You were still being violated by that tentacle of his, and you could only squirm in place. 

“Now! I wanna try something new with this one! Let’s try… burning them from the inside out! Like barbecue!” You couldn’t even find the energy to scream in horror as you felt the heat of plasma getting ready to fire build up inside the tentacle. It was hot, it was burning your insides. You shut your eyes, ready for the fiery end, the release of death. 

Until the appendage cooled suddenly. Strade was making a noise, as if talking to someone over a mic. 

“No I’m not messing around… I’m doing what we were ordered too-... Yes, I’ll head back immediately.” he let out a groan of annoyance, and you suddenly felt a kick to your side as the tentacle was pulled out. 

For the first time since you met him, Strade looked properly annoyed now. He glowered down at you. 

“I was nowhere near finished with you… I don’t want to make this quick…” One of the tentacles ends sharpened into a point, as if ready to plunge into you and provide a killing blow. You swallowed dryly, staring up at him. 

“Please… Please just kill me…” You whispered, begging. He’d be doing you a kindness at this point. There was no way you were going to survive these wounds, no one had the medical equipment except for the other side. If you arrived at the base like this, they’d likely just put you down out of kindness. 

Strade looked down at you, seemingly deep in thought. Then.. 

“Actually.” He pressed a button on his headset. “I got… A prisoner of war with me.” he glanced down at you, a grin creeping up his face. 

“They’ll need emergency medical attention, but I have reason to believe they’ll be useful to….. Us.” It felt like your stomach and chest had been filled with ice water, and you gasped for air looking up at him. 

“Wh-Why? WHY?!” you shrieked, using up the last of your energy to scream at him. Your arms were shaking with effort to hold your upper half up, and the ground below you had turned to a disgusting mud made of dirt, your blood, tears and sweat. 

“I’m not done with you…” Strade responded, getting back down onto one knee to stroke your hair again. “We aren’t monsters though, don’t worry. You’ll get proper care, and when my superiors realize that you don’t have much information to give…” 

His grip in your locks tightened, and he pulled you up to get in your face. His breath was hot against your cheek. 

“I’ll take good care of you… I bet you’d look so much prettier with a new set of legs, and I bet those arms could be replaced too. You’ll be my special toy. My gift to you, as the one who almost got away. Aren’t I such a nice guy?” he cooed. 

“Oh, and this way you’ll actually get to meet my partner! She’s cute too, I’m sure you both will get along splendidly. Two Peas. In A Pod.” he enunciated. You suddenly had a feeling that his partner, whoever she was, may be stuck in a similar situation to you. 

You stared off into the distance, unable to summon anymore tears as you listened to him talk on and on. Death would have been such a kind fate at this point. But Strade didn’t have any kindness in him. 

Strade poisoned everything he touched, not just your city and country, but anyone who got close to him too. It was just who he was, and he did it because he could. 

You heard the distant sound of rubble falling and screams echoing. What you had once become numb too was now shaking emotions from you again. You were going to miss those sounds, the sounds that had become synonymous with home. 

#strade #Strade TINR #This Is Not Romance #This is Not a Romance #TINR Comic #Melon Writes Not BTD #melons july ficfest

[cielleduciel]

BIG MAJOR GRAVITY CIRCUIT SPOILERS but i've been crazy ever since i watched jane finish the game so i have to write an essay about it and i know no one is gonna read all this shit but whatever. fuck. i'm still thinking about nega. like, what is it like to get left behind by yourself. you were you for thousands of years and then the thing that made you YOU leaves you and becomes someone else who is you but not YOU as you are. were? are?

like imagine, since the very beginning, you WERE the circuit, the circuit was YOU, you were carried through every new host, every body that fell apart. you probably took it for granted. if you lose one body, the circuit will find or make a new one, and then you'll wake up and pick up where you left off. a cycle of immortality that lasted thousands of years, only to end at the hands of a single. random. process error.

one deviation and that which made you YOU, which WAS you, leaves you behind, and suddenly you are mortal, and dying, and all your thousands of years could end in a second, and it would never matter, because you aren't YOU anymore. the thing that was you is someone else now, and you are a ghost apart, a damaged vessel filled to bursting with more years of life than any one body should carry, with too many memories that should never have been left behind

and this new you-not-you may not have your memories but it has taken your name, your title, your place. it does have your instincts and it does save your life, now fragile and transient, just as you once did for others. it does know your old comrades, who recognize the new one as their own, as YOU. but it isn't.

but then, isn't it? you have no future with them, not as you are: sundered, temporary, scrounging for scrap so you can prolong your "life" just that little bit longer, while they go on living, effortlessly, together with the new you-not-you. there's no place for you like this. you can't keep up-- you'll fall apart-- they'll all outlive you-- and you realize you've suddenly become a stranger to everyone, including yourself.

you take a new name. nega. negative, never, nothing, not, none. defined by the absence of the presence that once was you. a dying star, a black hole, a Gravity but twisted, and hungry, pulling and searching and reaching to fill the void. and you mark the new presence, the new Gravity Circuit, and you feel the tether. perhaps some lingering vestige of the purpose that once cloaked you. you pick up the tatters that remain and stitch together a new, threadbare mantle. you teach him. you guide him. you test him. through it all, you stay close to him, that you might-- what? bear witness to your new self's growth? shepherd your new self unto the future? grasp at the shreds of the memory of what you used to be? bide your time so you might take back what's yours? test if you are even--have ever been--worthy of it at all? all of the above?

i keep thinking, when nega confronted kai--his old-new self--did a small part of him hope that kai would fail? did he secretly hope that kai's inexperience might be his downfall, so that he might defeat him, destroy his body, and get the Gravity Circuit back? that he might finally reclaim that essence which defined him, that he might be kai, himself, again?

and maybe the copy/rewrite process would've overwritten your memories anyway. maybe whoever you are or were was already lost to that irreversible state of impermanence wrought and thrust upon you by the whims of fate, but would it even matter? if you felt like you had the chance to be YOU again? even if it meant becoming a different you? wouldn't you reach for that chance? wouldn't you do anything?

but none of it matters, because that's not what happens. your chance is lost, but more likely it never existed in the first place. the death of you, your old self, was certain from the start. you have to let the new self grow. you have to let go of your self as you once knew it, cast off the mantle, and sever the tether.

in reality, claiming the commander circuit was the only thing nega could've done, but not just because every life they fought for depended on its existence. it's also because nega was the only one who could do it, and know what it meant, and welcome it. it's because it was his only way to move forward. he needed to become something else--to die, even if not literally, so that his new life, his new self, may live and flourish and carry their purpose into the future.

this is mirrored by the presumed death of the circuits' Masters and their mission, the circuits' desire to break free and build a new life, and the Commander Circuit, who desperately clings to their defunct mission, is buried so that the others may freely forge their new path, swears to destroy all they've built in order to resurrect the past-- and how he was destined to fail. as this cycle, of life, and of all things in the universe, can't be avoided forever, and can never be reversed. gravity, energy, entropy. death, into rebirth, into death. nega must face this truth in the end, as well.

we don't see what happens to nega after the circuit takes him. he tells us that when a circuit takes a new host, the old personality is overwritten, but we don't know the details. is the original person gone forever? is it just suppressed temporarily? does the commander circuit work entirely differently due to its nature? it doesn't really matter, though, because now nega as we knew him is gone, and that's how it must be, and how it was always going to be.

#gravity circuit #gravity circuit spoilers #chewing on my phone as i write this. i love video games

[angeltreasure]

Hello sorry this might be really long!

but I feel like I need someone to ask to and urgent prayer and I’m really scared about how things are for me rn but I went through a horrific time in my life before I found Christ. I also had an Eating disorder at the time and it was BAD. I wasn’t coping but the Lord saved me and over time things changed, he was amazing and working on me more and I met my boyfriend *we were friends first (started attending the same church) and he had his struggles and I still have mine but we broke up after quite some time and I don’t know why, but he’s not acting very nice to me at all, so different to who I know him to be and I’m worried about seeing him at church or at friends places etc but I also got fired from my job and tbh I didn’t like it at all and wondered if I should focus on my degree since going back to study but both of these things came so suddenly and it’s hard for me to cope right now with how it feels like people don’t want me. I also have some autism that I only recently even know about which makes so much sense but I struggle dealing with change so sudden and tonight I had a complete meltdown, couldn’t talk, couldn’t communicate and couldn’t breathe well and ended up crying so hard because it feels like how it used to when I went through the trauma I did… I know God had brought me so far and he’s still here but my boyfriend knew how to make me feel comforted and stop me getting those meltdowns often and now I feel like im alone, scared and going back to things before God and I can’t keep feeling this pain over again

I will absolutely pray for you! I am always here if you need anyone to talk to, I try to check tumblr every day.

Sometimes in life, we go through bad days and horrible situations and difficult things like challenging illnesses and having our relationships fall apart before our eyes. Even though we go through the bad times, God doesn’t wait behind a wall waiting until you get better and put your life in order. God is right there in the chaos of things with you. His love is unconditional and so great. His love is bigger than our mom and dad, His love for you if bigger than any mountain height. The love He has for you outnumbers the grains of sand on every beach, every star in the sky. Before time existed, He knew you completely and had it written down in His book. You are so precious to Him. When we have our bad days, challenges to our health, difficulty with relationships, struggles with sin, struggles with the world around us, we can use these moments to seek God’s help and by doing so, we yearn for Him and grow in our love for Him. As Christians, we can use any negative event (or positive event) in our lives as a tool to help us grow closer to God. They remind us to pray and have hope.

When I feel overwhelmed, I like to pray the Rosary. The Rosary is powerful pray. It helps our mind to focus off of the anxiety around us, and helps to redirect our focus on the life of Jesus and His mother, Mary. I have used this prayer a lot in my life and it may help you too. You don’t have to be Catholic to pray it either! Anyone is welcome to pray the Rosary. You can carry the beads with you as a reminder, or a ring, a bracelet, or use your fingers.

I can’t promise everything will be fixed right away, but nothing is impossible with God. He will always love and never abandon you no matter what. I’m here for you.

#asks #prayer request #don’t worry I don’t mind long asks

[boredandelusive]

Before It’s Too Late - XII (12).

I am in college, and because I hadn’t said anything about it, there were gaps in the schedule for when I upload. I am in marching band, and because of it, I won’t have as much time to write the stories I want to. If you can hold a bit of patience with me, the next chapter should be ready next monday.

"Gimel, ensure that my body makes it across the way to He. Watatsumi Island would be a better place to leave it," forming a pen in her hand, Laila wrote something on the other palm of her hand. Once the message was created, she took the note off her palm and gave it to Gimel. "The next place I go to is Inazuma, please try to ensure nothing happens to you."

Watching as the hypostasis chirped in response, he hovered off toward the sea, keeping Laila's body safe. "Your Grace, if I may-," Guizhong says suddenly, though the creator cleared her throat.

"Call me Laila, please. Hearing that title makes me feel unworthy of it because I left Teyvat, and my sister included." She says, though she looks concerned when she says it. "And now... if I can't save her, this world falls apart. Though, looking upon this world, I see that I never should have left." There was a pause in her words, though Laila looked at her ring.

Just half of her soul gem was covered in taint, and though it was normal for magical girls to keep grief seeds, if she didn't have one, and she couldn't save herself in time... Laila didn't want to think like that. "Whatever it is you need of me, Laila, I will do my best to fulfill," she was still a loyal god to the one who created her, the one which saved her life.

"Then I will need one other thing from you. Once Lumine and Paimon get back from Mondstadt, I am going to give you something. I need you to monitor the Fatui. When I remade your body, you have gained the ability to connect your senses to dirt and dust. If you hear or see anything related to the Fatui trying to take my body, I'll need you to tell me." Laila says as she held her hand in front of her, creating something from dust.

"This is what I'll use to communicate to you?" Guizhong asked, which the creator hummed in response. "I will protect it with my life, Laila," she says truthfully, which the god hummed in response.

"Istaroth!" she calls out, though seemingly no one responds. Moments later, a singular strike of lightning comes down near them, though Laila did not react. "It has been a while, hasn't it?" Laila asks softly, causing the elder god to kneel at the voice.

"Yes, ma'am, it has. Though I am more than thrilled to see your return, I must ask if there is a reason you have called upon me specifically." Istaroth, Laila's shining shade, the first of the Four Shining Shades of Teyvat, was the one who overlooked everything with humanity.

"There is a reason I've called you here, Istaroth. Tsaritsa plans on doing something, and though I am aware enough of her plans to bring down Celestia to reveal the true sky, she has also started sending her minions to retrieve my body. I will need you and Guizhong to work together and alert me if something happens to my physical body." Laila starts, though she moved closer to the envoy as if to say something quieter.

"If you have to, take control of my body. You know, it will be your primary objective to ensure my body does not land in Beria's hands. Be aware of anything that may happen, because you know how obsessive she gets. Figure out her plan, report it back to me. Once the Traveler comes back from Mondstadt, I leave for Inazuma. I still need to speak with Ei about her actions, and I will still need to find three archons to fit their positions."

"Laila!" a distant voice called out, causing her to look in the distance.

"Your Grace, this may be a bit of a request, but can you ensure my daughter does not get herself into harm?" Istaroth asks of her creator, which the woman nods in response.

"No harm will come to Paimon, I assure you of that. I'll see you soon, Istaroth," she says before watching the shining shade disperse to the wind. "Guizhong, once I meet up with Lumine, please try to prevent Tsaritsa from getting my body. I don't know what her plan is yet, and if you find out, let me know."

"I will." As the woman took her ring off, she watched as a geo slime bounced to her side and created a rock shield on its head. "Until we meet again, Your Grace," she says before walking away, looking at the device in her hand.

"Lumine," Laila calls out as a geo slime bounced to her, catching her attention. Kneeling down on the creature, she took the ring from the rock shield and slipped it onto her finger. Hiding the ring under her gloved finger, she went back and boarded the Alcor.

The ride to Inazuma wasn't too long. As the moment they docked, a man walked up to them. "You sure kept me waiting, Captain. And it appears as though we have some honored guests with us."

"Shush!" Paimon hushed immediately, though Beidou placed her hands on her hips.

"Lumine, this is Thoma, a trade partner I've gotten to know recently. Thoma, this is Lumine, and I'm sure you have heard enough about her." She introduced them both, though she turned to them next. "If you run into any problems here, talk to Thoma. Just let me know if he tries to pull any moves on you. I'll deal with him personally the next time."

As Lumine nodded in response, Beidou looked back to the Alcor, thinking for a moment. "If everything's settled, I'll be going. I wouldn't want to be caught with my sails down here. I have a wanted fugitive on board, after all." Waving goodbye to them both, she went back to the ship before leaving the docks.

"The first thing we'll need to do is go to the Inspector. With the Sakoku Decree in place, nothing gets past. Once we're done here, we'll go to the Outlander Affairs Agency, which we can get something to help you stay in Ritou for a while." Thoma made it sound like this wasn't the first time he's done this, though Lumine looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "What's with the look on your face?"

"Why is it that Inazuma is a closed nation? And what is the Sakoku Decree?" Lumine asked out of the blue, catching him off guard. "Thoma, was it?" Laila asked, seeing as Paimon only just caught onto why she asked that question.

"That's a good question, and unfortunately, I don't know the reason for it." He wasn't the one closest to the Electro Archon, or her shadow, rather. There were other things on Laila's mind, but she needed to understand things.

"Then while Paimon and I are here, we'll figure that out," she says before letting Lumine take control of her body again. Looking at the floating pixie, she shrugged and shook her head, unknowing why Laila would come out suddenly. Though the man felt concerned about such a question, he kept his thoughts to himself.

"I have to say, judging by how you carry yourself, the rumors about you are true." Thoma says as the two continued walking, though they stopped in front of another building.

"What rumors?" Lumine didn't want anymore information about Laila getting out, though if an entire nation knew about her return, there wasn't a reason to hide the ring.

"About you defeating a dragon, about you saving a nation from a sealed god, though the 'how' is unclear. Being an outlander in a closed nation alone is an achievement." Thoma says before crossing his arms. "Whatever your intent may be to speak with the Raiden Shogun, nothing is set in stone, and you may cross paths with her. I can get you an audience with her, but it'll cost everything."

"Thoma, I can find a way into Ritou on my own, but from there, are you sure you can get me a way to meet the Shogun?" Lumine asked, which Thoma nodded in assurance. "And what do you mean by "cost everything"? You will be okay, right?"

"If my plan goes well, then you won't have to worry about me," he says truthfully, though both of them still shared worry. As the conversation ended there, Laila took control of Lumine's body once more. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Saving you time," she says as she walked down to the guard between Ritou and Narukami Island.

"Halt, who goes there?" he asks in a stern tone, though Laila moved her hands behind her back. "Traveler, it's you. Unless you have a Traveling Permit, you may not go between Ritou and Narukami Island freely."

"Actually, I thought I just gave you my Traveling Permit," behind her back, her psychic powers reached into his mind. "See? It's right there in your hands." She pointed out, causing the man to look at the "note" in his hand.

"You're right. My apologies for that. Use this as a bridge between Narukami Island and Ritou." He moved out of the way, his eyes still glowing pink as Laila passed by him. As the two made it across the beach, the moment they stepped into Narukami Island, she moved her hands from behind her before letting Lumine take control of her body once more.

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TAGLIST - @sheepispink @karmawonders​ @lilqi​ @atsukawolfcat​ @magica-ren​

#Genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau genshin #genshin self aware #self aware genshin #Genshin self aware au #self aware genshin au #istaroth #inazuma #thoma #beidou #lumine #paimon

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Ten Into The Fog (Part 16)

Azula supposes that she should have known that she would be crying today; after all, she had just told herself that things might just be okay. That is, of course, when everything tends to fall apart. They share an uneventful lunch before Zuko finally asks. “So what did you find out?”

And that is the thing, she had discovered nothing at all. Nothing save for that Ozai knows the guard shift schedules and that Chen-Zhang has been stealing supplies. She supposes that the guard bit is rather useful, not that they are going to make any huge changes. In fact she advises Zuko not to; it would be much too easy to put pieces together if the guards suddenly had different schedules the day after she’d gone to visit father.

All in all it almost feels like a waste of time.

And with nothing else to say she finds herself asking questions that she truly doesn’t want the answers to. Curiosity will be the end of her. Curiosity, pride, and stubbornness but they are her vices all the same. “Father mentioned something to me.” She begins fighting to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible. 

“Ozai says a whole lot but most of it is worth ignoring.” Zuko grumbles. 

“Not this.” Azula frowns. “He said that I…” she falters for just a flicker. “I lost to you in an Agni Kai.” She clears her throat. “Did this Agni Kai happen to take place on the day of the comet.” Really, she doesn’t need him to answer; the simultaneous grimaces around the table and the exchanged glance between he and Katara tell her all that she needs to know.

And the flutters that have been slowly building in her stomach stir into a panicked frenzy. She curls her fingers into the fabric of her pant legs and tightens her grip. “How?” She asks so softly. Quietly enough for them to not hear her.

“How?” She repeats again, this time louder. She thinks that her voice nearly cracks. It doesn’t make any sense at all, she has been training all her life. She has been working hard. He was always at least two steps behind…

There is another round of exchanged glances. They are trying to decide who should tell her. They are trying to decide how that person should tell her. And they better decide quickly before she can come up with her own ideas. 

She expects Sokka to speak up, he has been mighty vocal about everything else so why not this? If not he, then Zuko. But no, Zuko doesn’t speak either. 

“Azula, it’s a little more complicated than you would imagine.” Katara speaks. And why her? What does she have to do with anything?

“I find most things quite simple, actually.” 

“You were going through a lot…”

“Stop being delicate with me!” She is aware that she is being needlessly cold and snappy. But she is growing anxious, an itch that she refuses to scratch with nervous gestures like tapping her foot or toying with her bangs or fiddling.

Katara flinches and her face hardens. Azula hopes that she has agitated the woman enough to just come out with it already. “Long story short, you weren’t yourself that day.” 

She finds her heart sinking further, she thinks that she already knows where this is going. 

“You haven't really given us all of the details–Sokka knows the most–but you were…” She scrunches her brows trying to work out the best way to proceed. “You had your falling out with Mai and TyLee. Things didn’t go as planned at the Boiling Rock and Zuko left to join us.” Katara pauses. “On top of that, your dad had all of these expectations for you and you had all of these really unattainable standards for yourself...” 

“They weren’t unattainable!” She insists. “I attained them just fine.”

Katara tries a gentle smile. “Maybe but they were unsustainable. It was a lot of pressure though. That you put on yourself and that your dad encouraged.”

“And?” She couldn’t handle it. Because she isn’t strong enough, because…

“And it got to be too much.” Katara confirms. “You were given more than any one person should have to handle at once…”

“The Avatar did too and he didn’t…” fail so profoundly. Didn’t shatter everything that had be laid out for him. 

“Because he had all of us to help him carry the burden. And Zuko had Iroh. You were holding up all of that weight on your own.” Sokka cuts in. 

“So what happened then?”

“Azula we don’t have to talk about this.” Zuko mentions.

“I want to talk about this!”

“Azula…”

“You had no problem telling me that I can’t remember ten years of my life.” Her voice cracks and her stomach lurches. “So why is telling me the truth a problem now, when I want to hear it?”

There is another uniformed flinch. 

“Because it’s a whole lot harder to tell you that you had a really bad time than it is to tell you hat you had a lot of good ones.” Sokka replies. 

“What happened to me?” She urges. Agni, it is exhausting to keep the hystria from bleeding into her tone. 

“You told us that you were seeing things that weren’t there and…” Zuko trails off.

“You weren’t fighting the way that you normally would have. It was less logical and more impulsive.” Katara adds. “It was like watching the old Zuko fight.”

Agni she couldn’t have picked a worse way to phrase that and Sokka knows it too, his face says as much. 

It had been the most important day of her life had she had ruined it.

She had lapsed then and she is going to lapse again. She supposes that it has been steadily building. That she has been teetering on the edge for a good while now, just waiting for that last application of pressure that would make her brain burst. And as the first muffled cry makes it past her lips she can very much see herself having fallen apart like this before.

She supposes that she understands why they had been so perturbed by her excuses and manufactured delusions. Because she had been right all along, she was crazy. She is crazy. And maybe this really is a part of that, maybe every bit of this is in her mind…

She holds presses her hand against the baby bump. It is very much there and all of the sensations that come with it; the aches and the cramping. It has to be real, it can’t be a hallucination, can it? She has already decided that Sokka had been telling her the truth. But that was before she had confirmation that she can’t actually trust her own mind…

Sokka wraps his arms around her and this time she doesn’t have the energy to push him away. She could definitely hallucinate tattoos and pregnancy symptoms. But, Agni, she can’t just imagine cameras and dragon eggs, lights that require no fire. And she can’t hallucinate what it feels like to be held, not when she has no idea at all what it would feel like. 

She knows damn well that Sokka had meant to comfort her but he only reaffirms what she doesn’t like to know; that she had been loved, she had known what it was like to be comfortable with herself. 

Now she only feels weak. 

Weak and useless.

Powerless…

Humiliated. 

Sokka gives her a gentle squeeze and she knows that she, at one point, had figured out how to get rid of those feelings. Or, at the very least, she had learned how to accept and live with them. And that has been taken from her. 

That and so many other things. 

And that hurts more than knowing that she had lost her crown. 

They probably think that, that crown is exactly what she is mourning right now. But, spirits, it is much worse than that. She is mourning all of those precious moments that she doesn’t even know about but knows exist. She is mourning a life she no longer knows. She is mourning herself, the parts of her that died during the Yakone incident. The parts of her that people actually cherish. The parts of her that matter.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

[writesailingdreams]

Amphibia Finale Thoughts (22 May)

I think of the recent Disney animated shows I’ve seen the endings of (Gravity Falls, DT 2017, SvtFoE, Tangled), Amphibia pulls out a satisfying ending (being the first since Gravity Falls), and this is because I think it sticks to its throughline: to change means to grow and people can change for the better.

I don’t want to get into all the details of this, but I will say Anne exemplifies this lesson best, as does Sasha to a lesser extent (though maybe at a more high contrast level); I’d say it's a little weaker with Marcy, but is stronger with her newt counterparts (Andrias, Olivia, Yunan; but especially in Andrias).

My biggest emotional takeaway, as I wrote on 15 May, was:

I feel I should be more upset, but I place narrative weight to the value of memories, remembering, and retaining the memory of something or someone. This may be my writing influence. It’s a very my writing thing; it’s a pretty central sentiment (as its developed). Or maybe OP influence — as long as something is remembered, it won’t die. That...moves me. Resonates. [In other words] the narrative emotional value of memories is thematically important in my writing, but also an OP influence.

EDIT REVISION: realized it felt weird to tag someone in my personal post; see here for the original line & intention. Also, it was me writing about an emotionally resonating theme that matters a lot to me and in my writing, which I saw reflected in One Piece. There’s more I could say and be clearer about but I don’t want to. It’s just a piece of this whole post and I don’t want to pick it apart. I know what it means to me and that’s all I really wanted to convey.

Also that, as I wrote on 18 May:

I feel emotional, deeply moved [by the separation/ending]. But I don’t feel broken-hearted. Perhaps these helped:

(1) The subtle setup of change in All In

(2) My conclusion that the hardest thing Anne would have to do would be to say goodbye to Sprig forever

(3) My past bafflement about how upbeat everyone was in True Colors when the girls were (allegedly) going home — I thought Anne going home meant leaving Amphibia, but since the characters were so sure that wouldn’t separate them (Anne even talks about introducing Sprig to stuff on Earth as if the idea of travel between worlds is just a matter of course*) + how the show often had more positive conclusions for Anne and the Plantars, I came to accept that Anne and Sprig wouldn’t be separated, that going home wouldn’t mean leaving Amphibia forever. The seed had been planted but the show convinced me otherwise until All In

*(how would anyone know whether the music box would be usable back on Earth? What if the gems needed to be recharged (I mean, they wouldn’t but the characters wouldn’t know that at the time) without the Temples to do it?)

But the best thing Amphibia did was get me back into writing in my writing-world. Thanks to friendship, cool powers, and saving the world.

•••

Gosh there’s so many other thoughts, but these feel like the most important:

Anne grew into the best version of herself in her opinion

Her love for Amphibia & it’s inhabitants allowed her to defeat the Core; a request for help from its worst version answered by someone who came to love it for the friendship and family it offered

More other thoughts:

“[frogs] love humidity” 🥺 Flood, Sweat, and Tears

Why couldn’t the Guardian give Anne new stones? Probably because it’s a Watcher; it doesn’t interfere with events, I’d guess. If Anne made the decision that destroyed the stones, I don’t see why the Guardian would contradict that

When Anne dies, think if the story ended there: not only how sad it is (knowing someone is dead vs letting someone go when one is alive & well & wishing for one’s best — I’m suddenly reminded of Gayle Greeno’s last ghatti book...), but Sasha and Marcy are stuck there w/o anyway to tell Anne’s parents what happened (suddenly reminded that one of my oldest stories ends with friends being separated...by death, which feels so much tragic than what Amphibia actually gave me)

Appreciated the freak out humor while talking with the Guardian “I’ve seen some pretty strange things”

Argue why Sasha and Marcy wanted to go back — but Sasha’s main goal initially was going back, then overpowering the king; once she decided to change, I’m not sure what her motivation to stay would be once Andrias was defeated. As for Marcy, her main growth centers around realizing she can’t run from her problems; of the girls, Marcy may have made the fewest connections in Amphibia but was the most passionate about understanding— I think if circumstances had been different, you know she would have loved to explore and study Amphibia.

5/16: I think somewhere inside my brain I expected Sprig to refuse to leave Anne after she’d absorbed all the stones’ energy. Like, you’re my friend, I’m not leaving, and the power of found friendship (“I’m not gotta let my first real friend get eaten”) would save the day.

5/16: I headcanon that Sprig and Ivy find something on the undiscovered continent. Leaning toward a different energy powered device that works on a different, maybe less cosmically powerful, source to travel between dimensions. Linked to desire/wishes? More personal??

5/16: Maybe if Anne had shown more conflict about leaving [would that have helped the separation]?? But see, from the very beginning Anne wanted to get home and I’d always been baffled by how casually upbeat everyone was in True Colors. Anne and the girls are going home! And somehow we’re gonna stay in contact. By using this music box, that every time we use it we’ll need to recharge it at the Temples. (That’s not how it works, but unless you know how to use it, the travel is pretty hit or miss...)

#amphibia spoilers #anne boonchuy #sprig plantar #the hardest thing #my writing #og writing #amphibia meta #wsd watches amphibia #amphibia analysis #amphibia #wsd weird brain #one piece #wsd shares #sasha waybright #marcy wu #king andrias #andrias leviathan #lady olivia #general yunan #memory #narrative throughlines #narrative analysis #not super edited so there may be grammar errors

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise XIV

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction. 

XIV:

My wet hair falls into my face—one strand in particular almost gouging out my eyes. I slick everything back, finding myself wishing that I’d brought some hair gel with me to the rec center. Of course, I couldn’t have seen a future where I would need it back when Oz and I left the apartment yesterday.

The reflection that stares back at me in the mirror is one I’ve become very accustomed to but it’s more frustrating than ever to look at it.

Everything about this body is perfect in the technical sense. My face is symmetrical, my features are sharp and handsome. Every little thing about me shouts that I’m an ideal man—someone to be desired or, at least, someone that one may desire to be.

As Liam, I may have loved suddenly waking up with features like this. Many of the traits I see reflected back at me are those Liam could have never gotten even through numerous surgeries.

I feel like I should be happy.

But my eyes narrow and I lean closer in toward the mirror. I want to shatter the glass—to erase the image before me because I know it isn’t truthful.

I may have spent the past year and a half in this form but this is not my body. This isn’t me at all.

Even if the man in the mirror copies my every movement, he’s not me.

I’m a ghost in a puppet.

A hefty weight settles in my stomach as I resign myself to what it is I’ll be doing today and I leave the bathroom. On the other side, Oz is waiting for me—awaiting his turn for a shower.

He had recommended that we shower together to save time but I really needed a moment alone after yesterday. Though, now that I’ve had that moment, all I can say I’ve gained from it is a deeper sense of sadness.

I’m pretty sure I’m depressed.

I guess there’s no reason for me not to be, all things considered. It would probably be stranger if I wasn’t.

I reluctantly return to the camp area with everyone else and Kade is the first one to take notice of me. And, just as he takes notice of me, I take notice of his axe.

My brow rises. “Where did you find another one already?”

He smirks and adjusts it in his hands. “There’s all kinds of stuff in the rec center.”

“He broke emergency glass,” Kendra answers in a more straight forward fashion. “It doesn’t matter though—we’re going to be breaking into a pawn shop once we’re all ready.”

“A pawn shop?” I ask and tilt my head to the side.

“There are guns there,” Starla replies. “We figure using those should make the process faster.”

Kade turns his nose up to the idea. “I’m keeping my axe.”

“You keep your axe,” his sister says, “I doubt the rest of us want to chop people up at such close range though.”

“Do any of us know how to use guns?” I ask the most obvious question.

“Don’t worry,” Kendra answers me and smiles, “I don’t know how the assets are used in this particular hub but I’ll be able to adjust them once we get there. I can make it so realism is turned off and we have infinite bullets. I’ve encountered enough cheaters in shooting multiplayer games to know how that works.”

“So…what? We just point and shoot?”

She shrugs. “Basically.”

Once Oz returns, we head out. Kendra and Starla lead the way with Nate behind them, Kade behind him, and Oz and I in the rear. My heart is prematurely pounding on the walk over.

I really don’t know if I’ll be able to do this.

On the trip, we come across a few pedestrians also out and about. Kade, already having his weapon on hand, runs out to hack them down. It feels incredibly wrong to just…let him.

But this is the plan. And we all keep walking.

Kade chops up about ten people between the rec center and the pawn shop. He’s already got spots of blood on him and I find myself wondering why he picked a white shirt to wear. I guess there might not have been other options but still…

Starla holds the door to the shop open and we all file inside. Kendra makes a beeline to the gun cabinet and begins to break the weapons out from their glass hold. I keep my distance for now and walk with Oz around the far side of the store.

There are a lot of miscellaneous things—most of which I don’t think I would have ever seen on my own as I never felt I had reason to go to a shop such as this. It seems like they have everything here besides food and clothes.

Oz and I come across a wall of what I can only describe as battle weapons. Swords, long axes, spears, and a couple of crossbows. I glance over to him as he eyes the selection with a certain degree of contemplation clear on his face.

I quirk an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

He grabs a sword from the wall and gives it a closer inspection. “I’ll still take a gun from Kendra but I think I’ll keep something close range on me as well.” As he finds the matching sheath he asks, “You want something?”

I scan over the display again. “Not particularly.”

Oz gives a faint, breathy chuckle. He sets the sword in it’s sheath and slings it over his shoulder. I doubt it’s supposed to be so loose.

“Think Kade will want an axe upgrade?” he asks and points to one of the large battle axes.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly, “He seems quite partial to the one he’s got.”

We head back over to the front where Kendra has six guns laid over a counter and she’s messing with each of their programs. I’m sure it’s a lot less complicated than fiddling with ours and I’m proven correct when she switches between them with ease.

That flickering, pale screen disappears and she lets out a loud sigh. “Alright. They are good to go. The one thing to note, however, is that friendly fire is not turned off because we need to be able to shoot the NPCs. So…don’t shoot each other.”

I hadn’t intended to in the first place. I look around at everyone else—I doubt they had either.

“I’ll take one but I’m not using it,” Kade mentions as he slips one into the pocket of his sweats. I feel that must be unsafe but Kendra doesn’t stop him so I guess it’s fine.

“Hey, Kade,” Oz gets his attention. He throws his thumb back, over his shoulder, “There’s a bigger axe back there if you’re interested.”

Kade looks down at the axe currently gripped in his hands and he frowns a little. “I like this one but…maybe I’ll go look.”

While he’s gone, Kendra ensures we all have a gun. I take mine reluctantly and give it a once over. “Sure there aren’t other safety rules you want to go over with us?” I ask.

Kendra shrugs. “Don’t point the barrel at yourself? These are less volatile than real guns so, really, as long as you keep your finger off the trigger when you’re not actively shooting, it’s fine.”

I suppose they aren’t real guns so real gun rules wouldn’t apply but I still feel uncomfortable holding one. I’m not the only one as Nate looks bothered to have his too.

“It feels wrong, right?” I ask him and offer a smile in case he’s still overwhelmed from yesterday.

His eyes flicker up at me and he stares for a second before shrugging. “Gotta go with the flow, I guess.”

I glance from him to Kendra who is also staring at him. She starts to frown but she doesn’t say anything.

Kade distracts us all with his return as he’s got the battle axe strapped to his back in a much more secure fashion than Oz has his sword. He’s still got his smaller axe in his hands and he seems quite pleased with himself. “It’s a bit heavy, but I want to try it out.”

“How did you get it to fit so snug?” Oz asks, checking around his back to see what he’s done different.

“You have yours on wrong. Strap it across sideways,” Kade instructs.

I hear them continue to shuffle around and talk about their weapons but my mind is filling with static and fuzz. I look down to my hands—at the gun cradled between them—and I can’t focus on much besides the feeling of my heart sinking.

Maybe no one will notice if I don’t shoot?

“Okay,” Kendra raises her voice, getting my attention back on the present. “We’re going to head toward the mall. We should get there sometime around midday. We fuel up, see if the bodies Kade chopped up yesterday are reanimated yet, and we kill everything we can then head back to the rec center. Anyone we see on the way there and back, we get them too. I know this isn’t ideal but it’s the quickest way we have to destabilize the system.”

“I’m ready,” Kade answers predictably.

“Me too,” Oz seconds.

Starla nods. “Let’s go.”

Nate and I stay silent but I give a little nod when Kendra looks at me. It’s all I can do.

The second we get back on the streets, I spot people walking about. Kendra and Oz jump into action, shooting a couple walking hand in hand. They hit their targets on the first try and maybe I’d be impressed if not for the horrific imagery to accompany it.

Kade runs on ahead, not wanting to miss any opportunities to axe people and Starla, dragging Nate along, tails him. Kendra follows but keeps some distance and I tell everyone, not sure what else to say, “I’ll take care of any stragglers.”

That seems sufficient in fending off suspicions but, of course, it doesn’t work on everyone.

Oz hangs back with me.

“You’re still against this,” he states. There is no accusation laced within his words—he just simply knows me.

I gulp. “I know it’s the only way we have, I just…it’s harder for me. I don’t know why.”

“You value life,” Oz offers an answer for me, “Even if you know the life here isn’t true life…it looks real enough for you.”

“Is it not real enough for you then?” I raise my head up to meet his eyes.

He looks away and sighs. “Well, I guess I’m better at telling myself they’re not real. Or violence simply doesn’t bother me that much. But look.” He leans back down toward me all at once. “I’ll do more so you don’t have to, alright? I’ll make sure there are no stragglers so you can just watch our backs and keep your hands clean.”

It still feels wrong but I start to nod.

Oz plants a quick kiss on me before picking up his pace and going ahead to join Kade and them. I sigh and close my eyes at the sound of more gunshots.

This is going to be a long day.

I quickly lose count of how many deaths I’ve seen and Kade is soaked in blood again (though that part didn’t take too long). We’ve been descending down a long, winding hill for some time now and it gives me an unfortunately clear vantage point to the carnage below.

Kade has switched to his battle axe and Oz has also switched to the sword. It seems less effective to me or, at least, less efficient but I don’t really know. I still haven’t shot anyone.

I’ve been watching Nate a lot when I don’t want to be constantly witnessing my lover kill people. He’s taken a few shots but not nearly as many as the others. And, occasionally, he runs off to the far side as if he’s attempting to flee. Someone (usually Kendra) reigns him back in.

This time, Nate hurries off to one of the buildings and Kade is the one to snatch him by the back of the shirt and drag him back. I can see Kade scolding him but I’m too far away to hear what he’s saying. Likewise, I can’t hear Nate’s response.

“Have you noticed too?” A voice at my right makes me jump nearly out of my skin.

I turn to see Kendra. I have no idea when she came back to join me.

“Um…you mean Nate…?” I guess.

She nods. “Yeah…”

“He’s talking more, at least,” I offer.

That, however, doesn’t change her expression. She stares down at him and her frown deepens. “What he’s saying…you may not notice because you weren’t always around during scenes with him but…he’s repeating dialogue.”

My chest constricts. “…What?”

“I can’t tell,” Kendra mutters, “It might just be a coincidence but it could be that he…he isn’t like us.”

“And what if he isn’t?” I worry what that means. “Would we kill him too?”

“I’d rather not. For one, I don’t want to risk being wrong about this and two, he is helping some.” Kendra scratches the side of her head with her free hand. “I just…I didn’t expect to be so confused about whether someone is real or not. The rest of you are so obvious but Nate…maybe he’s just reserved or having a hard time with everything. Or…he’s A.I. I really can’t tell.”

It’s troubling to think that even Kendra can’t make heads or tails of him. Though it does make me feel a little better about being so confused myself.

“There’s no way to tell in his programming, I take it?”

Kendra shakes her head. “No. Otherwise I’d know after digging around in there.” Her frown persists as she stares at him. “I’ll just have to proceed assuming he’s real. I just hope he doesn’t become a liability.”

I find myself matching her frown.

#heartbeats paradise #my novel #my writing

[ysapawithfeelings]

Dear Old Friend,

Friendship break-ups hurt too. I just haven't quite figured out yet which hurts more: a friendship that ended because of utter betrayal, or a friendship that died a natural death, with no particular rhyme nor reason, but just naturally ran its course, packed up its things quietly and suddenly, just totally left without a word, like a thief in the night.

Here's the thing: ours died a natural death.

Something to remember you by

---

We grew up together. In every sense of the word. I met you at the tender age of seven, but we only really became friends during the fourth grade. In the fifth grade, you had your first period months before I had mine. In hindsight, maybe that should have been a clear indication that you will be more mature than I am, in more ways than one. During our grade school graduation, you were one of those who cheered the loudest after I gave my valedictory speech. We were so young, and our dreams seemed so big yet attainable. I felt invincible with you by my side.

In high school, we grew even closer. Your thirteenth birthday was extraordinary. We celebrated at Pioneer, and although my heart was a little broken over someone (this seems so trivial now), I remember we had a grand time. It was October, and it has always been one of my favorite months. Quite frankly because you were born October 15th.

Despite having had to transfer to a different school during junior year, we did our best to remain close and be there for each other during the most crucial of times. We stayed close all the way to college and even after that. And even though we attended different universities, pursued different degrees - the stuff that truly mattered kept us so incredibly connected. You were my soulmate. I can still remember you twirling and doing a little happy dance when you first told me about your first boyfriend. And knowing the kind of love and loyalty you gave the people you care about, I just knew he was going to be your last. I wasn't wrong. He did end up becoming your husband, and now you have two beautiful, amazing girls. You're living well, doing well, and I couldn't be happier for you.

And I couldn't be more thankful on how we'd seen each other through everything: parents, lovers, vices, work woes, pregnancy, marriage. Everything.

But somewhere along the way, we grew apart. The thing that I thought would never happen to us did. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. We just had a falling out, even though we never actually fought. I could never really swallow fighting with you. We just grew distant, the figurative kind of distance, which when you think about it is ironic, judging by how close our houses currently are. It just happened one day, the day I extremely dreaded for the longest time. Long story short: you got tired of reaching out, as I did. And it just did not seem like the friendship could be extended, expanded, or saved any longer. It happened gradually, but also kind of all at once. I know you know what I mean. As much as it pains me to say it, it's been true for a long time. We are like strangers now.

There was a last straw; I'd be lying if I said there wasn't an ultimate cue that led me to just get up, stop trying altogether, and just go. It may be immaterial now, but it did exist. It solidified what I was trying to deny the whole time: I was barely hanging on a thin line, and it was simply time to let go. You have your reasons. So do I. And all of them are valid. But you know what? I held on so much longer and deeper than you did. I don't mind, and I am never taking that against you--so don't even try to rebut. It's okay. I will be okay. :)

These days, I think I am still in the process of grieving over our decades-long friendship. There are still instances on mundane days when something happens, and my first thought would be to call or text you because you'd be the best person to tell all about it. In time, I do hope the feeling of longing will pass entirely.

It has not been easy, especially since I have had other deep friendships to mourn for since the pandemic took place. It's my thing now: losing friends. Part of the whole growing up shit, I guess. Still, I have to say, I am having a hard time deciphering--if a friendship that died a natural death is harder to get over than a friendship killed by a lie and/or a betrayal. I guess it just depends on what kind of day I'm having. Or what memories are more painful to look back to. Maybe they equally hurt because they both cannot be repaired. And maybe I don't ever really need to know the answer to my question. Whatever is the point, right? Nothing. Because a loss is a loss.

Despite losing you, I will always love you--albeit from a distance. You have been such a core person from my childhood, puberty, and even the first two decades of my adulthood. But whenever we were together (sadly can't even remember the last time we were), I've realized, we talk more about the past than we do the present or even the future. We're just two ships passing by each other now, but you can be assured that I'm a ship that's rooting for you and always praying you'd never sink. Even in my most hurtful and embittered phase, I will never wish you ill. In fact, I am letting you go with nothing but love and respect.

I am almost at the end of my blog here. Not that you'd even be reading this, but just as well, please let me thank you for the our friendship. It almost felt like family in countless ways. It almost felt like forever. We made promises we couldn't keep, that's all. We meant them when we made them, and that's enough. So a thousand times thank you, and I think this is it for us, G. I can almost hear Monica's For You I Will playing in the background.

And if you ever do feel you want to come back (and I'm honestly not expecting even the slightest bit that you will), I want you to know that the door will never be locked. You can knock any time. Or you know, if it's a matter of life and death, just freaking turn the knob. Heck, destroy the door if you need to. And nobody even has to apologize or say the first awkward hello. It won't matter; my heart will easily let you in.

Maybe I'll even buy you a flat white or two. And even if I never was a Harry Potter fan like you massively were, I am well-aware of that famous line--

"Even after all this time?" "Always."

#friends #grief #friendship #naturaldeath #always

[lovenojudgement]

April 08, 2023 2:56PM

Jealous.

I was never a person who gets easily jealous of what people have or where they might be in their lives. I have always placed in mind that I might not be able to buy the things that I want, or I might be having a hard time adjusting at work, but it will never be that way forever. I am just taking my own pace until everything falls into place. I am choosing to look up to them rather than being jealous of them. That in time, I will be where God really wants me to be.

Today.

Today, I realized that I envy those who can still smile and those who can easily sleep even with a heavy heart. I envy those who find serenity to rest even when they feel so empty inside. I envy the people who can hold their tears back up when they feel like they are at their lowest.

Valid.

It is not my intention if it feels like I want things to revolve on me. It is not my intention if people might have felt like I must be heard all the time. It is not my intention if people might have felt that I matter amongst everything else. It does not mean that I am a sensitive person, I must be treated as a very important person. Most of the time, I just want to be heard and my feelings to be valid.

Perfect.

I have a lot of flaws. Not only physically but with the entireness of my whole being. Some I am aware of and mostly I am not. But most of the people who are close to me knows that I can handle constructive criticisms. But of course, like anybody else, it should be said during the right time and be delivered in the right tone. That is because I have always admitted that neither I nor anybody’s life can ever be perfect.

Alone.

I have been used to being quiet. I have been used to doing things alone. Not to misunderstand things, I have friends and I do go out with them sometimes. I have had a three-year relationship in the past and I have tried to entertain the thought of being with someone again, but things never worked out well. Thinking things through today, I suddenly wanted to evaluate myself on why I have enjoyed being alone.

Fear.

I have experienced maybe not the worst like what others might have gone through in life. But for me, I was able to experience continuous desolation for years already. Unending family problems, trust issues, midlife crisis, the feeling of being used, health concerns and most of all, the immense feeling of being invalidated all the time. That feeling like you are never heard. That none of your reactions nor your statements matter. That fear inside me brought myself here. The fear of all these made me choose to stick to myself instead of sharing a part of me with others. Because every single time that I decide to, everything falls apart. Choosing to make them your world then you would suddenly feel lost inside it.

Hope.

I am not that religious when it comes to going to church nor praying the rosary every day. But I make it a point to never miss a day to thank God that I woke up, I have a stable job, I help save people’s lives, I have a place to stay, I have food to eat, I have a steady support system and I have Him. The relationship that I have now with John may not be as smooth as we thought it should be, but things change. I have always placed in mind that there are a lot of things that we will still be learning about each other, and we will be going through it in a hard way because we are apart from each other. But if the both of us will be trying our best to make it work, I know it will. I hope we make it; I am praying hard that we can make it. The past days seems like we are in a crazy roller coaster ride—leaving my heart alone up in the air finding its own way back down.

Output.

We all have our own ways of releasing whatever our heart is carrying. I am not a writer. My grammar is a mess, but this has been the best output for me. Through writing, you are not sure of whoever reads it. You will not be expecting people to give their reactions to it. Most importantly, you will not feel that your thoughts nor your feelings are invalid. From which, you have helped yourself release your thoughts and saved your emotions from distress as well.

In time.

Even though life is not easy to handle and things does not seem to flow smoothly now, in time, we will be able to experience the best days of our lives.

DGPS

[jscysbl]

Here's Your Instruction Manual

When he was mine, I really could have used one, so here's yours (or at least, what progress is of it). You can either thank me or pity me later.

He is not one to show you off to his friends. So if you were looking for the guy that would pronounce your star-crossed love to the world, you won't find a twitching breath beneath the stone cold mask. Instead, you'll find a steady silence that has a knack for tricking you into thinking you are unloved. This feeling will pass once the ice melts when you need it to most, and you'll soon find out that he doesn't read his thoughts aloud because he's saving them for your ears alone.

He is not an artist. His handwriting is what seems to be an undiscovered form of hieroglyphics no other living person can translate. His aesthetic is his lack of "proper" aesthetic, and he finds it difficult to play with words, but keep your eyes and ears on him when he thinks he's all on his lonesome. His low voice, humming the fragments of an unfinished song like the blueprints of a building yet to be realized, may not always paint notes in harmony, but these will sing the melody of your new addiction. The bits of jumbled prose he calls poems— the ones he thinks you will never hear— will tug at your heartstrings. Savor these, each unframed and unfinished masterpiece, for they will not come in abundance.

He is not a genius. You may need to explain things once, twice, perhaps even three times. He wants to get it. He wants to get you. The intention is there but he cannot wrap his head around it. Skip the pleasantries, metaphors, and unnecessary fluff. Don't beat around the bush. You cannot drop subtle hints hoping he will cling to them and pick every piece of them apart because he will assume you need more time. Spell things out for him. He does not like solving puzzles so just tell him the solution. He cares for time, and in his eyes, every minute you two spend arguing is sixty seconds you do not spend happy.

He is a drug within himself, but you will be the only one to feel the effects. You'll lose your balance, have no time to sleep, and forget how to create words when you speak. Your nos will turn into maybes and your maybes will turn into yeses. A deep breath in cannot save you from this narcotic. His lips are heroin, his cuts are flowers, and his breath should be your own. If, somehow, he becomes aware of the highs and lows, and the stone wall begins to crumble, do not panic. Behind the remains of what once stood tall, you'll find the reflection of a human beginning to self-destruct. All you have to do is let the tears dry on your sleeves because he didn't want them to fall in front of you.

He is ticklish, but only in one place. He tells people he in fact is not, and no one scoffs in disbelief, but that is just because they never found the spot. Snake your arms around his neck and kiss him everywhere until you both lose track of time. Press your lips against his flesh, an inch or two above his collarbone, and watch him melt into your hands. He is putty. He is yours. He always has been, and always will be if you allow him to be, but right now, in this moment, he is more than ever before.

He is a kleptomaniac. If you're suddenly missing your hair accessories or chemistry notes, they are probably in his bag. Know that he does not have ill intentions. Once you start seeing each other on days you have no classes at all, he'll become fascinated with every aspect of you. He learns by taking and examining for himself. Fret not, for most things he'll give back. The things he'll never return, however, are the parts of you that'll hurt the most when damaged or lost. Take note of your breath and memorize the beat against your rib cage. There's a difference between a healing wound and a fading scar.

If there is anything else you need to know, planting an array questions will not reap answers from him. He will not answer, for he dislikes confrontation and has a penchant for twisting the truth. These are things I learned on my own, and if you do not have the patience to continue what I gave up, then save yourself the trouble.

Instructions always come with the self-explanatory things and are never around when we actually need them.

#poetry #prose poetry #spilled in #heartbreak

[pet-genius]

A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

#pro severus snape #snapedom #snape meta #snape love #severus snape #psychology #complex ptsd #I'm not qualified to diagnose anyone #But like #come on #sometimes JKR writes brilliance she doesn't seem to comprehend #snape #occlumency #harry potter

[fortuositywritings]

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Part 1 Wanda x Reader

Summary: You bump into Wanda Maximoff at a grocery store. Wouldn’t be a problem if either of you were anyone else but you two were no ordinary people.

You would think having the ability to take anyone’s power would be awesome. It’s not.

With a simple touch, you could take any person with special abilities’ special powers from them. You figured this out in grade school when you high-fived one of your friends for the first time. Suddenly you could see through walls. That same year, you figured out they could take those powers back. 

A few years later you found out they could only take those powers back if they wanted them. You tried giving someone their invisibility back but they would not have it. Now you are stuck with it. You are stuck with a few others too, like walking through walls and mimicking voices. Those you got from random strangers on the street. 

Obviously, you tried to give them back. You wouldn’t take what isn’t yours, but it was an impossible task. Finding a stranger you bumped into in New York is kind of hard. 

You’ve tried passing off powers to other people but it never worked. You could only return them to the person who gave them to you. To give them back, all you had to do was touch them again and they had to want the powers back. It was that simple. 

So when you bump into Wanda Maximoff at the grocery store, things get a little complicated. 

You’ve made a friend recently who turns out to be Sokovian. Seeing as his birthday is coming up, you thought it would be cool to cook him a traditional Sokovian meal. A few searches on Google and you print out a list of what you need. 

You leave to the nearest store that would have all you need. You check off your list, heading toward the aisle of spices. You finally find the one the recipe calls for and lucky for you, it’s the last one. You reach for it but you feel someone else’s hand touching yours, reaching for the same thing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. You look at the woman who is standing really close to you for a stranger. She has intense green eyes, you notice. She pulls her hand away. 

“It’s alright,” you say. 

“Was that the last one?” she asks, awkwardly.

“It seems so,” you confirm. “But we can ask an employee if they have more somewhere?”

You flag down an employee two aisles down and ask. They shake their head and then tell you they won’t be getting more until next week. The woman with the green eyes sighs. 

“We can split it,” you suggest. “I don’t need the whole thing. At least I don’t think so? I just need it to make a Sokovian dish that calls for it. I probably won’t be using it for anything else.”

“I don’t know. Sokovian food is delicious if I may say so. You’ll get a taste and might regret sharing this with a stranger,” she teases. 

You smile and ask, “Oh, are you Sokovian?”

She nods and you add, “Well, then I insist on sharing it with you. Maybe you can actually give me a few tips on this recipe?”

“What are you making?” she asks you. You show her the recipe on your phone and she kindly shares some of her expertise which you’re grateful for. She follows you around the store making conversation as you grab the rest of what you need. Technically, you follow her around as she suggests you other stuff to add to the recipe. 

You add a mini mason jar to your cart. You both head to pay and outside pour some of the spice into your mason jar and give her the rest of the bottle. You thank her for all the help and wish her a great day. 

Wanda gets back to the tower in a positive mood. Everyone notices and asks her what happened. She replies that she just had a nice interaction with a stranger and it made her day. 

Though her day was made, the rest of her week was hell. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Her powers have been failing her. She doesn’t understand. At first she thinks it’s just the more difficult things she can’t do but then she notices how no one’s thoughts appear in her head. It’s quiet. She only hears her own. 

Something was definitely wrong.

You thought you were imagining things but after guessing what your friends’ were thinking for the umpteenth time, you knew you had taken someone else’s power. 

You don’t think it’s too bad at first. Only your friends’ heavy thoughts made their way into your head. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts you can never unhear again. 

The problem comes when you go to the library for the first time with this new power. The library is hell. It’s full of people who are just thinking loudly. See in public, there are people who are thinking loudly of course, but there are more people distracted and speaking without thinking, which you never thought you would be so grateful for. 

You don’t last in the library for very long. So libraries are on your list of places to avoid. Soon, movie theaters are also on that list and then so are museums. Any place where people are meant to be quiet is where it’s loudest in your head. 

You wish you knew who you touched to get these powers. You begin to think back at everyone the past few weeks that you might have had direct contact with. A hand you shook or an arm you bumped into. You’ve always been cautious about your surroundings so these things wouldn’t happen.

Everyone you greeted at your Sokovian friend’s party you’ve greeted before. No one was new there. The Sokovian at the store!

Damn it. You never got her name or anything. Maybe you’ll encounter her at the store again. The next few days, you spend hours at the same store. People begin to think you’re an employee and you almost feel like one, knowing exactly where everything is from spending so much time there. 

You’ve even made plans with one employee to go hangout. But no green eyed Sokovian makes an appearance. 

Three weeks you have this power when you find that not only can you read people’s thoughts, but you hold things without actually touching them. It happens when you drop something in the kitchen. You reach for it to catch it before it hits the floor but it’s nowhere near your grasp. However, it never hits the floor. 

You then notice a red mist-like substance coming from your hands floating in the direction of the object. You see that it’s holding it up. After that, you start practicing with random things around your apartment. You begin with lighter things, thinking you would only be able to hold weight that you could in your actual arms, but it is not so. 

You work your way up to lifting your car in the air and in that same moment you learn you could do multiple things like lifting your car and replacing the flat tire. 

Two months with these abilities and you feel you start getting the hang of it. You still can’t go to the library. You’ve tried again but the voices are too loud. You still go to the store where you met the woman that unintentionally gifted you these powers to try and return them. She seemed like a decent person and you don’t know what she used these powers for. Maybe she needs them.

You still have yet to find her. 

Wanda hasn’t been on a mission in three months. Instead, Bruce has been poking and prodding her with needles and running countless tests trying to figure out what happened with her powers. Three weeks ago she began to go to a therapist because Steve thought it might be a mental block of some sort that she had to work through.

Though therapy was doing wonders for her, they weren’t getting her anywhere near having her powers back. Bruce’s tests weren’t helpful either. She’s been stuck in the tower for three months and her days have never felt so repetitive until now- train, go to therapy, undergo tests. Rinse and repeat. 

The media had begun to notice as well. She turns to another TV channel where the news anchor asks “Where is Wanda Maximoff?” as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth. In a way she has.

Fortunately for her, you are watching that same channel. You are cooking dinner and have the television channel on for background noise. You hear them talking about the Avengers. They’ve never been of much interest to you, although they should be seeing as though you live in the same city and something is always going down here because of that reason.

“For those who have been living under a rock,” the new anchor starts, “Wanda Maximoff is one of the newer additions to the Avengers.”

“She’s the one with the red magic, isn’t she?” the co-anchor asks. That grabs your attention. You turn to look at the screen. “That’s right. She joined about a year ago after the fall of Sokovia.”

That had to be a coincidence, right? 

“She hasn’t been reported to be on any missions the last three months,” the reporter continues. That definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, you think, counting back the time you’ve attained these powers. 

“Here is a clip of Maximoff using her magic to save diplomats at the embassy five months ago when…” You don’t hear the rest as you watch the clip play. 

It’s the green eyed Sokovian who helped you out at the market. Your suspicions about it being her who had these powers were correct. You just didn’t think you took powers from an Avenger. Someone who definitely needs these powers to do her job and save people like the clip shows. Shit.

You smell the food you’re cooking burning. 

“Shit!”

Wanda pounds her hand on the mat. Sweat clings onto her shirt. She’s tired and out of breath. 

“Again,” Nat commands. Wanda huffs and stands up, getting back into her fighting pose. She takes a swing that the Black Widow easily dodges. Not two moves later, she hits the mat again.

“Again,” Nat repeats.

“Natasha, give the kid a break,” Steve says, watching from the side. 

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures him.

Natasha explains, “If therapy and tests aren’t working, maybe self defense will.”

Steve seems doubtful but allows it. They really need Wanda to work through whatever is blocking her from using her powers. He winces seeing Wanda hit the mat.

“Again.”

“I’ve told you for the millionth time. My name is Y/N L/N and I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. Or any of the Avengers, really. Or even one of their assistants or something. It’s vital,” you try helplessly. 

“Unless you have clearance, I can’t let you up,” the guy at the desk says to you for what feels like the hundredth time. You’ve been coming in the past few days trying to get someone to let you see Wanda. 

“Look, it’s really important. Can’t you, like, give her a message or something?” You’re desperate at this point. He laughs. 

“Ah, yes, let me just text her real quick. ‘hey Wanda. It’s that one guy you said hello to once downstairs. There’s some girl here that needs to talk to you’,” he acts out sarcastically, which you do not find amusing. 

“Listen, buddy. If you do me this favor and get your boss or whoever can give me clearance to see her, I promise she’ll be so grateful for you helping me get to her that she’ll come and thank you herself,” you vow. 

“I can’t help you, Miss. Now please go or I’ll have to call security,” he warns.

You rub your temple in frustration. “Fine. There’s no need for that...Michael,” you read his name. “I’m going.”

You turn around as if to head for the door but then do a 180 and sprint past a security guard who shouts at you to stop. You make your way for the elevators as the security guard runs after you. You press the button for the elevators but you notice they’re nowhere near the ground floor. 

The security catches up to you and in panic, you push him away with Wanda’s powers. He goes sliding across the floor and you bolt for the stairs.

You don’t even know which floor you would find Wanda in but you assume it would be somewhere up top. You begin your ascend. You reach the fourth floor and realize you should start using the StairMaster at the gym. You hear multiple security guards quickly making their way to you. You panic and walk through the wall, not knowing what was on the other side. 

You’re in some kind of engineering lab. You don’t think anyone saw you walk through the wall, so you try to act casual and stroll through the lab trying to find an exit. Then you hear someone call you. “Hey, you.”

You ignore them and act like you didn’t hear. They tell you to stop walking, loud enough that you can’t ignore it. You turn around to see a woman in a lab coat. She asks, “You’re not allowed on this floor. Who let you up here?”

“Oh, uh. Michael sent me,” you lie. “Sorry, I’m new. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. Maybe you could help me find my way?”

“Where are you meant to be working?” she inquires and you’re stuck not knowing anything about the Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, whatever it’s called. 

“The lab,” you say. Your vague answer obviously creates another question. “What lab?”

“They haven’t told me yet? I’m not actually working in the labs. I’m doing more secretarial duties, taking notes and scheduling stuff.”

“For whom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You can feel her catching onto you and it’s the only reason why you try this.

“For the big guy, obviously,” you say and then focus really hard trying to read her mind, hoping that a name will pop up in her head. Did Bruce get an assistant? You smile. “Bruce.”

“Well then you are way off. He’s usually working on the 87th floor,” she tells you. 

“Well, thank god there’s an elevator,” you chuckle nervously, pointing behind you. “Well, I should get going before I’m any later. You turn around confidently but as you walk away she stops you once more. You think you got caught but she says, “Elevators are that way.”

She points to the opposite way you came from. You laugh to play off your mistake, “Duh. Sorry, the lab is so big. Thanks.”

You head the right way. You speed walk to the elevators and then jog when you hear a rougher voice telling you to stop. “She’s on the fourth floor.”

You assume they spoke into their walkie, and you know you don't have much time before they catch you. You think quickly. You can’t make your way to the elevator because then obviously they’ll just stop the elevators. You don’t want to walk through a wall; the dangers of that are extreme given this is Stark Tower. You could accidentally walk into an ongoing experiment. 

You had to hide. And suddenly, you had the perfect plan. 

The security guard runs to you. He thinks you’re running for the elevator but then you turn before you get there. He sees you dive behind some clunky machine, presumably to hide behind. You clearly never have won a game of hide and seek in your life, he thinks as he goes around the machine to catch you. 

He’s left utterly confused when you aren’t there. The only trace of you are your clothes down to underwear on the floor. Four other guards make it to the floor. One asks him, “Where is she?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. “She was right here. Search the floor. She’s hiding and I think she’s naked.”

They disperse taking your clothes with them. You let out a breath of relief at not getting caught but then mentally curse that they took your clothes. You still haven’t learned how to make other things invisible yet. You never really used this power. Maybe you should start practicing.

You hustle your naked ass to the elevators, feeling incredibly exposed even though you know no one can actually see you. You press the elevator button and wait impatiently. It dings and opens. 

“The elevators!” You hear one of the guards yell. Two run your way as you step into the car. You put all your energy into staying invisible. It would be really awkward if you were suddenly exposed. You hold your breath when one of them looks in the elevator. You keep yourself in the corner furthest away from them. In their eyes, there is no one in the elevator. 

“She’s not here.” They leave and the doors close. You click the button for the 87th floor.

____________________________________________________

This will probably have 3 parts. 

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you