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#or their health got drastically worse
gideonisms · 11 months
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you’re so correct like I can’t believe I’m not going to suddenly switch personalities one day. what do you mean I am who I am and it’s impossible to fight that. personally I have tried to do it and the result was that I lost a lot of hair due to stress. anyway my new technique is to do whatever current me wants and hope that leads to things future me also might want, because shockingly future me IS still me. it remains to be seen how this technique will work
Anon I sympathize with your predicament! I have also tried to do that and basically the result is that every couple of years I become unable to do that, or much of anything in fact. I wish you the best of luck with your new strategy! I think people can get so carried away planning for their future ideal life that they forget they also have to live their present, less ideal life. Never hurts to take stock of your current feelings and do something about those rather than hoping they will just go away. Although at times progress slows to a crawl with this strategy it probably does keep you more invested in staying alive which is a pretty large benefit
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alastors-wife · 1 year
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jesus christ
#at this point im ready to flat out beg for surgery#if ur on the max (safe) dose of multiple medications for the same condition... yea i give up pls just cut me open and get it over with#because this shit is NOT helping enough and its so dangerous#i mean. i rly dont *want* to have to get surgery because that fucking blows but id rather not risk death#jesus. count ur blessings if ur not disabled. holy fuck#its too early in the god damn morning#(will possibly delete later im just complaining about shitty health stuff rq)#not to mention i am UNBELIEVABLY jealous of the folks who got surgery for this and it was successful#and that part of their lives kinda went back to normal for the most part#or they were at least able to drastically decrease the dose of their meds#cant say im fond of being on a gigantic dose of multiple medications at 25 tis not a pleasant experience#and god only knows what these sketchy ass meds are doing to my body#i would prefer to not be one of the poor bastards that finds out that 20 yrs later their meds is what gave them kidney failure#or some crazy shit like that#modern medicine is great but i got trust issues way too much of this shit is so dangerous 😭#and the vast majority of my experiences with ''holistic'' treatment was PURE ass it did absolutely nothing. or it just made it worse#why are we still in the dark ages bro#i will say this is definitely one of those times im grateful im pretty chill about most medical stuff and don't really get scared of much#except for covid tests those big ass swabs scare me. but blood tests? dental work? MRIs?? certain surgeries? idc man go crazy#if u know what ur doing and its gonna help idc what u do. give me painkillers and treat me well and im happy
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lovejosephquinn · 9 months
Text
2️⃣
Plot: You become a little irritated arriving to your appointment to find out that your long term therapist has had to go on emergency maternity leave and somebody else has had to step in. When that certain somebody calls your name from the waiting room, your whole demeanour and mood changes drastically. It certainly was the pleasant surprise you were not expecting. Will professionalism hinder the inevitable, or will your feelings get the better of you?
Tag list: @eddiemunson-mylove @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @whoscamila @almightywdm @shawnamae87 @josephquinnsgoddess @lovelyblueness @aol19 @babybatlover @tlclick73 @aysheashea @killing-my-soul @emilyslutface @avobabe87 @eddies-acousticguitar @queengirl56 @eddie-joe-munson @lunakitty2608 @figmentofquinn @live-love-be-unique @joeqnz @witchwolflea @mmunson86 @dreamliners @purplerain85 @kingdomkitten32 @harley1608 @demonsanddemogorgons @chickennug90 @emma77645 @lma1986 @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychilli
Word Count: 3.6k
Part One ✨ Part Two ✨ Part Three ✨ Part Four
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Is there such a thing as fear of rejection? Absolutely. From your therapist? A little strange for a topic of fear to be escalating madly in your head but you couldn't shake the feeling of the eyes that burnt through your skull and into the contents of your soul each time he looked at you. It wasn't normal to be feeling this way, you were entitled to be attracted to any normal human being as the next person, however the circumstances were forbidden if you were reading it correctly, reading his body language right.
Joe paid you compliments on the few visits you had been to, not just the 'oh you're looking well today.' He had started to call you pet names, called you pretty, started to physically place his hand on your shoulder if he aimed to walk in close proximity beside you, even stopped the session so that you could get lost in the flirty banter that you had shared the night before. The texting was getting worse, the contact outside of his job was indeed not supposed to be as tragically flirtatious. It was clear you liked him, fancied everything from his looks to his ability to make you laugh so damn easy. Whenever you laughed, it would make him smile, he was impressed how easy it was to get you there.
Reading back through your messages, the key signs were impossible to miss. There were a few choice ones that you liked to blankly alert yourself to.
'Missed seeing you next to me today.'
'Hope you're having a great day and staying out of those negative thoughts pretty girl.'
'Maybe one day I'll be coming to you for therapy because you'll of drove me insane with that cute little skirt you showed up in.'
'You're safe with me darling.'
You often imagined through the passing weeks his big brown bush baby eyes sparkling back at you after you had finished your session, no means to an end in his gentlemanly stature, as he would open the door for you on your way out, his hand leaning against the small of your back and soon after you arrived home, a notification of a text message would be safely waiting on your phone. Recently, it wasn't the only thing you had began to day dream, you had taken note more on his lips, the way they plumped together when he was listening to you, the way his tongue would slip to the corner of his top lip, eyes peering like fine slits as he took in your words. The way his nose would crinkle when he laughed. You were down bad.
It had only been a month and you were already fantasising about what it would be like to have those soft looking pink lips pressed up against yours, you betted any more income you ever got in your life that he would be the best kiss you had ever gotten. Sometimes, you would close your eyes and see him there, feeling your heart beating rapidly out of your chest, alerting yourself back to reality quickly when you felt your lips begin to pucker. A day dream was better than rejection and you were not about to face it head on, you couldn't. Joe is your god damn mental health professional. You wouldn't of gone this way for any other, so why him? You had to shake off the fantasy sooner rather than later or the over stimulation in your brain may lead to dangerous territory.
But here you were, standing in front of a mirror, hands firmly placed against your stomach as you twisted from side to side, eyeing yourself up from head to toe, making sure there wasn't one hair out of place on your head, caring about what you wore for your appointment, freshly showered and eager to get through the entrance. Excited to even see Agnes through the prosthetic glass which separated you, willingly advising you to take a seat, all so that you could spend the couple of hours praying the complete opposite; for it to go slow so that you could make the most of every minute with Joe.
You hadn't received a message from him in the last 24 hours which seemed strange to you, seeing as you had spent every day over the last few weeks texting most evenings at least. It sparked confusion in you but you were still determined to see him regardless, it could easily be just a blip, after all, you hadn't messaged him either so you couldn't fully place the blame onto him for feeling ignored.
Today was a day where you had gawked at him from across the seating area more than ever, even the awkward old receptionist had shone you a rather welcoming smile when you walked into the building. The leather jacket that was slung over his shoulder made him look almost bad ass, the tight fitted checked trousers beautifully caressing his hips whilst the black shirt tucked into it, two buttons opened and the silver chain glistening from the artificial lighting above the little ruffle of chest hair. Black square glasses adorned his head. His hair looked extra curly today, his sights finding you right away seeing as you had planted yourself on the chair right next to the door where you knew he would be coming from.
"Come on in." He smirked at you briefly, obviously just a polite greeting so that nobody knew the ongoings of what happens behind closed doors or in your case forbidden text messages. You couldn't of looked more desperate clambering off your bottom if you had tried, almost slamming the door shut behind you before Joe could even attempt to reach for the door handle himself. You did a mental skip over to your chair whilst he sat down in his once he had witnessed you make yourself comfortable.
"How are you?" He asked. A little subtle for Joe seeing as the text messages had become increasingly more close and personal, flirtatious none the less but you instantly had your anxieties flooding your brain of if he was being off with you.
"I'm okay." You twiddled your thumbs on top of your thighs watching as his glasses came to sit where they were naturally supposed to. "You?" Joe's eyes shot up, keeping his head still at the position of looking through your previous notes.
"Yes thank you." He smiled at you in a quick movement this time, as if he were just using his muscles for the sake of it.
"So what brings you to your eighth appointment in just over a month?" Joe picked up the black biro pen and placed it to his mouth, rolling the edge of the clicker over his lips.
You. You are what brought me here.
"I-I- I just had some stuff to talk about I guess." You knew exactly what you meant but you didn't know how to explain it to him personally seeing as he was part of the reason. Silence fell over you both for a few more minutes, making the tension grow evermore. Your leg began to nervously shudder, his eyes shooting back to watch your body part move vigorously before continuing his reading.
Moving his glasses back up to the bouncy, untamed curls, he took a deep breath in and made the exhale apparent through his nostrils. "Yeah? Go on."
"It's nothing actually. Maybe I should go." You were quick to cut the conversation off. The mixed signals you had never actually received before were like a knife to your heart. Maybe he was just having a bad day and wanted to get home like the definite majority of people wished for to happen as quickly as possible.
His eyebrows knitted together. "Well now I know there's something. Besides therapy, if I know anything about the female species it's that if they tell you nothing when they've just told you they want to talk about something - there's something. So spit it out Y/N." It was like a darkened growl to his throat when the last part hissed toward you. You were taken back, stood up and made a repetitive mirror image of the way Joe had just took his own deep breath.
"Where do you think you're going?" He stood up beside you, his frame standing over you as intimidating as you felt the first time you had met him.
"We'll reschedule. Talk about it another day." You couldn't help but feel the rush of tears aiming for the corners of your eyelids. "Maybe."
"If that's how you feel..." Joe left it there, as a professional he couldn't force it out of you, as himself he could of but he had to remember where he was at this moment in time. You walked out without a second glance back, livid at yourself that you had let yourself fall for such a false sense of reality. Agnes and you're sure several others watched as you stormed out of the building, focussing her eyes onto Joe's door which was closed shut.
Slamming your car door, throwing your bag onto the passenger seat and putting onto your seatbelt in an almighty huff, you turned on the ignition, fists turning white from how hard you were gripping onto the steering wheel. You were almost ready to put your foot on the pedal when your lips become trembly and your vision clouded over from the waterfall of tears about to erupt. You moved your hands to your face wiping away the flood of stingy, salty tear drops which made their way out in full force. Looking into your mirror, you tried to regain your composure so then at least you could go home and cry in a more private environment, at least you would be lonely in peace.
Just when you had stopped, your phone began vibrating, a displeasing sound to hear when you were in the middle of what you could only describe yourself as a mild mental breakdown. You stifled through your bag to find your phone, pulling it out only to see Joe's name appear on your screen. Of course you answered, just like a puppy rolling onto it's back, you wanted to hear exactly what he felt that he needed to say to you. You apprehensively tapped at the green phone icon, answering the call and placed him on loud speaker, setting the phone in your lap.
"Y/N." He sighed sweetly enough for you to hear it loud and clear, causing your heart strings to be tugged. "Please come back in." You remained quiet, he would have to try harder than that.
"Please." A little breathless whisper escaped out of your phone, making a little squeak of noise leak out from you lips.
"You can hear me right?" You nodded, as if he could see you. Moron.
"Yes." You replied blunt and to the point.
"Then come back, I've blocked myself out of my own diary for another hour just to speak to you for at least five minutes, I don't like how you left just then." As if your therapist is the one to tell you that they don't like how you left your appointment. It wasn't the point that you were only there today just to be next to him. "You need to come and talk to me." That is the whole point of his job after all, you hung up, throwing your phone back into your bag, undoing your seatbelt and stepping out the car, marching back through the car park and into the building you'd obviously caused an overly dramatic scene in. Agnes called out your name but you kept your eyes firmly locked on Joe's door and pretended as if you had not heard her. Opening the door, you stepped in, impolite for not knocking but Joe had invited you back himself so there was no need for it. His face stared at you with intended purpose, like there was something he himself wanted to say to you but couldn't spit it out.
You moved back to your seat, brown, sorrowful eyes trained on you the whole way there, the creak of his movement turning to face you in the worn leather armchair.
"Hi." He called out apologetically.
"Hi." Your voice was pretty much at the same pitch as his, solemn and dull.
"No judgment. Tell me what you need to talk about. Therapist to patient. That's all." That's all? What more are you both?
"Okay fine." If that's what he wants, let's see him answer this. "What happens when you really feel like you're getting into a deep form of ridiculously forbidden situation-ship with someone which is clearly wrong and there's nothing you can do about it but let it torture you until it finally ends?" Joe's lips pressed into a thin line, his front teeth revealing themselves to chew on his lower lip whilst drinking in the most obviously personal yet unsettling question he had heard in a long time, quite partially because he was never involved in being the reason for that particular kind of ask.
All that was heard between you was the sound of the clock on the wall ticking the seconds by, each one counted by you for the time he didn't choose to answer you straight away. "Come on therapist, your patient's waiting for their advice." He seemed taken back himself by your angsty and sarcastic remark, a lot for him to let sink in which you should appreciate, especially when you had a lot of doubt that he wasn't in the same frame of mind himself.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" You couldn't help the scornful snort of laughter straight from the pit of your throat, moving your tongue from side to side along your teeth to stop you from gritting them.
"No Joseph, it's not." You gulped, you had to say it now or things would just inevitably become worse. "Let me rephrase it." Joe sat forward, shoving his elbows to his knees and resting his head upon his closed fists.
"What happens when my therapist is giving me signals that I'm not entirely sure are real but they seem real because he texts me constantly, inappropriate to anyone who would be a fly on the wall for starters. I feel like I'm digging a hole for myself that I kind of want to get out of but don't want to just in case the tiny glimpse of hope that I hold onto if my assumptions were to be right may not come to bite me on the ass if I was wrong?"
Joe looked down to the carpet, looking slightly perplexed. "I- I- didn't expect that." He stuttered out.
You stood back up, ready to leave on your high horse, probably to never see this man again due to the fact it seemed like he was not on the same path as you. Walking forward, you felt Joe wrap his hand around your wrist, holding you into a halted position and stood to attention; your heart beating out of your chest from the physical contact.
"Stop walking out. You're good at that." Joe's eyes had formed into that of a puppies, you looked out of the corner of your vision to take a look at the defeated frame of your therapist.
"There's no wonder I need therapy, huh." You laughed at your own pathetic attempt at a joke to lighten the mood. He pulled your wrist back, making you take a couple of steps back in fear of tumbling over.
"Please. Sit back down." He let go of your wrist hoping that you would make the right decision. You did. Joe got out of his chair and moved to sit next to you, to close for comfort but enough so that your nostrils could smell the beautiful scent of him, so that you could see his features up close and personal. You decided to be a grown up for once in your life, get through your fears and turned to face him. Joe's sigh became pitiful.
"What happens when the therapist wants nothing more than to make a move on his patient but can't as he has to be competent and professional in his line of work and is scared of not seeing her ever again if he attempted it in fear of her thinking he was a creep?"
Your mouth couldn't of fell on the floor quick enough if it tried, you had to mentally pick back up your jaw, you could feel your chest rising and falling at an impeccable speed. Joe gave you an impossibly beautiful and conquered smile, his eyes burning through into yours; you could almost see the flames alight in his pupils.
"You should of read the signs better." Your face moved closer to his.
"I could say the same for you darling."
Joe closed the gap, his lips pressing into yours, sealing the fate between you of not just therapist and patient now, but as two involved individuals. The kiss was slow at first, Joe moved his hand up and placed it around the back of your head, tilting his head slight to open it up more, you gladly obliged and turned the opposite way, your tongues moving along forward to dance with each other as it progressed further. You wrapped your hands similarly around the back of his neck as you closed the space between your bodies further, the sound of lips smacking loudly over the clock that now became a mere background sound. His other hand caressed at your back, massaging deeply down your spine in his own wanted attempt to feel you as much as he could for now.
The world had stopped for you both, but time moved faster and faster, the pants of your breaths flung together and the little increase of whimpers of sheer want and need directly hummed from each of you, becoming more and more volumized as the minutes passed. Your bodies were clung together needily, your core was screaming for more and Joe's trousers had become seemingly tight across his crotch. He was the kisser you thought he would be, passionate but not to forced. Sweet but not to fast. His lips glued to yours perfectly, fitting like a jigsaw puzzle from the way your tongues danced around each other.
You were interrupted by a tap at the door, Joe ripped himself away from you immediately, shooting up from his now frustrated feeling of whoever felt the need to intervene on your unknown private time; a time that should not be happening.
Joe sat back into his chair, grabbing the notes and placing them to his lap. Another knock at the door.
"Yes?" Joe answered, the door handle slowly opening and another therapist leaning their unwanted head around the door.
"Do you have that leaflet I asked you for earlier?" The woman asked with a swift smile plastered to her face, glancing toward you but then eyes firmly planted straight back onto Joe.
"I'll bring it in once I've finished my session." Joe gave an awkward smile back to her, the woman's eyes furrowing at your notes as she nodded, leaving and closing the door behind her. The notes were upside down. Joe's timer on his phone went off in the same second to announce that the blocked out hour that he had put into place just for you had unfortunately come to an end.
"Maybe we can continue this tomorrow." Joe stated, licking his lips tasting the remainder of where you just were.
"What do I tell Agnes?" You giggled. "It's a little strange me coming two days in a row."
"Just tell her it's unfinished business, she can't argue with that." Joe moved his head back a little as a sign for you to come over to him. You moved faster than your feet could carry you, standing at his knees, and bending over slight to meet his face in a more close and personal manner.
"Until tomorrow then Mr?"
"Quinn." Joe stifled a small huff of chuckle from his nostrils.
"Until tomorrow Mr Quinn."
"I look forward to it pretty girl." He leaned up to win one last kiss from you, groaning at the way you just let him do it again.
Rebooking the appointment with Agnes was easy, she just stated you as full of issues, trying to make an awful joke with you to which you played along with it. As you left, you were in a better state of mind than when you had made your first swift exit out of the building. Getting into your car, you had to sit there for a moment to take in what had just happened, you could of screamed to the heavens for letting this become reality, having proved to yourself that your inhibitions were completely correct. Your thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a buzz from your phone. Joe.
Joe: 'I can't believe how much I want you. You're going to get me fired if anybody finds out.'
You: 'Nobody will find out Joe. It can be our little secret.'
Joe: 'Such a bad influence, I'm not complaining though. Please wear something accessible tomorrow, we might go a little further than first base.'
You: 'Watch your thoughts Joseph, they might get a little tighter.'
Joe: 'Too late.'
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bruh-anator3000 · 11 months
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CAT-astrophic
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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*
Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.
WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...
Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader
Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!
Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!
Okay, enjoy~
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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.
Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.
Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.
The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.
There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.
Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.
You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.
It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.
"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.
He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.
Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.
You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."
Okay, maybe he was a little hot.
"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.
Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.
Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.
The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.
Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?
"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.
"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead
"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."
You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.
And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.
Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.
"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."
...
"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."
Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."
"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.
"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.
"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.
With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.
The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."
"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.
"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.
"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.
"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."
Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"
"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.
He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.
"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.
Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.
"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."
She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.
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ceilingfan5 · 6 months
Text
go around
@taznovembercelebration "super au" and "silly"
“Man,” Taako sighs, as quietly as possible. “This is the second time I’ve been a hostage this month.” He’s not tied up this time, at least, but he’s sitting in the back hallway of the bank and regretting his choice of errands today. The guy next to him nods. 
“You too, huh?” He’s pretty, and goth, very serious-with-a-side-of-secretly-goofy, and Taako wants to crack him like a nut. Shame they’re busy waiting for the supervillain of the week to either get got or get his private island and fourteen pounds of gummy worms, or fucking whatever. “It’s ridiculous. They need to spend less money on making flashy superheroes and more on just–security, infrastructure, safety, you know, mental health initiatives-”
“Or maybe we need to break down and be supervillains ourselves.” Taako shrugs, with an I’m JOKING I PROMISE…unless? Air about him. He’s sick of it. 
“Really?” Handsome asks, laughing a little. 
“Really,” Taako says, still kind of joking, but also kind of not joking. “Taako can barely get his errands done when there’s no Captain Backwards Lightning Man in the way, you know? It’s enough to make a guy wanna destroy some well-placed props.”
Handsome laughs. 
“You’re Taako, I take it?”
“In the flesh, skele-fellow. You?”
“Kravitz,” Kravitz says, and then, “Probably. If I’m going to be a villain, you don’t know that, and I’ll have to erase your memories, or something.”
“Or we could be a team,” Taako teases. “We could be the only ones who knew each other’s secret identities. You could come over for chicken alfredo, I could go to yours for game night, little bit of blackmail to keep things spicy-”
Kravitz laughs, and covers his mouth, but it must not be too loud, or maybe the gummy worm accords are going sour, because nothing comes of it except an embarrassing amount of affection from Taako. 
“I wish I had a power worth doing anything drastic about,” he admits, looking at Taako for comiseration or approval or something else that might lead to romance. 
“Yeah? Cha boi’s in the same boat, so keep paddling. Dumber supers have done worse.”
“Really? I mean- about your power, I remember, uh, Pickle Monster.”
“Who could forget.” Taako shakes his head solemnly. “Yeah, no, I can read minds, but only if it’s food related.”
“Seriously?” Kravitz grins. “I love specific powers, but that sort of thing drives me nuts in practice. Like- surely the universe could have been kinder?”
“Would it ever stoop so low?” Taako snorts. “No, seriously, try me.”
“Okay,” Kravitz says, screwing up his nose in the cutest stinking way Taako has ever seen. “What was my dinner last night?”
Taako looks him directly in the eye, feels that weird connection he gets with people sometimes, the sort of way that makes him sweaty and lonely. He steps right into Kravitz’s doorway, looks around his home, wonders if there’s more than meets the eye. Surely. It’s welcoming enough, maybe just because Kravitz is inviting him in, in this moment. Much less of a trespass than it usually is. 
He watches the memory unfold, and feels fond over this dork, who looks so business goth put together on the outside. 
“You air-fryered tater tot nachos,” Taako says, and Kravitz blinks, surprised, and Taako’s shunted right back out. 
“Really? You really got that much?”
“Oh, honey-nugget, I got more than that, I’m just trying to-”
“How much do you get?”
Taako grimaces. 
“Pretty much everything, especially if emotions are, uh, involved? You- uh. You poured frozen tater tots in the air fryer, dropped one on your bare foot and started bleeding, went to put a pokemon bandaid on it, and when it beeped for you to turn the food, and you tried to test one, because your timing was off because the package didn’t have air fryer instructions, you dropped it on your other bare foot and burnt it.” 
Kravitz’s mouth drops open. 
“Sorry?” Taako says, even sweatier. “You opened the door, kemosabe.” 
“Right,” Kravitz says, with a conspicuous glance at his shiny boy shoes. 
“I wasn’t trying to intrude,”
“No, I, get it, I, could have picked something else.” Kravitz clears his throat and loosens his black-on-black rose patterned tie. “Mine isn’t nearly as interesting.”
“Seriously?” Taako snorts. “Maybe you have an eight foot vertical leap, or your snot is acid.” 
“Is acid snot better than mind reading?”
“Dog, everything’s better than mind reading, do you know how fucking loud the world is all the goddamn time?”
“Touché.” Kravitz glances at the noise from the bank lobby, but nothing seems to come of it. He shifts his feet, looking at them again. “I mean, they were good tater tots.”
“Sometimes food that hurts fucks harder.” 
“So true?” Kravitz laughs. “I wish I had super healing, or super-not-being-a-dumbass, but, you know,”
“Man, if I was super-not-a-dumbass, I really could take over the world. Watch out, Townsville! Pew pew!” 
Kravitz looks at him with some kind of goopy eye disease that could be confused for fondness, if you were stupid, like Taako. 
“I just- so, see, I have this knife?”
“Yeah?” Taako looks him over for said knife, which he does not manage to produce. “Taken, was it?”
“Mhm,” Kravitz sighs, glancing at the lobby again. Some loud discussion is going on, between the somebody of police and TToday’s Evil Baddoer. “I can cut these little rifts with it, nothing huge, because it’s just a big fancy pocket knife, but I can store stuff in there, which is kind of neat. One time I climbed through and found myself somewhere else, but it was really difficult, on account of the small blade and all.”
“Yeah?” Taako’s heart pounds. “Seriously? Does it have to be the one knife?”
Kravitz pauses, and then turns to him directly. 
“I’ve only done it with the one knife, I guess. And a grapefruit spoon.” 
“What if-”
“Oh my god.”
“Hear me out-”
“Oh my god.”
Taako casts about for literally any kind of blade, fucking at all. There’s a letter opener that looks like a sword on the Mortgage Guy’s desk, and Taako checks out Super Badguy in the lobby, and then slowly, painfully, starts sneaking his way toward it. Kravitz chews his fingernails behind him, and truly fourteen thousand ice ages later, Taako returns, and hams up presenting the letter opener to Kravitz.
Kravitz stares at it, and hestiates. 
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“It doesn’t work and you’re mad at me,” Kravitz admits, painfully honest. 
“What if it does work?”
“I’d take you out for dinner,” Kravitz admits, fully focused on the silver blade. 
“What kind?”
“Any sort of food you’d like?” And Taako steps into his mind one more time, slips in through the door, and finds himself in a nice restaurant across from Kravitz in a cute dark purple button up, slut that he is, one button open, just a hint, just a peek, and they kiss over the dessert, which costs way too much for crème brûlée, but Taako won’t tell him that, no sir.
And he zhoops right back out. 
“You have to do it,” he says, a little breathless. Kravitz looks at him, alarmed, and back at the letter opener, whcih he finally takes. He moves it around in the air, getting a feel for it, and then SWIPES–
And a flickering, dark tear in reality appears. Kravitz covers a gasp, Taako doesn’t, and certainly they’ll be spotted soon, but Kravitz tears and rips and hacks into the rip in the universe, and once he gets it big enough, tears at it with his hands, and then gets a knee in there, and there’s a sickening non-sound as it widens ever so slowly, achingly, and Taako watches with deep, embarrassing affection as Kravitz manages to clamber through, looking like an absolute idiot, and turns and reaches an arm out for Taako.
Fucking ROMANCE. 
“I’ve, gotta-”
“We’ll go around and help from the other side, Taako,” Kravitz promises. “It’ll just be way easier if I get literally anything sharper.” 
“Oh,” Taako says, relieved. And he jumps into Kravitz’s arms, because he has the chance, and it’d be more embarrassing if he didn’t take it. 
Any kisses between the jumping and the rescuing are off the record, and also private. So there. 
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[id: gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-6 taken up with stickers of a cat, fish, "good worker", door, dragon, and "kapow"]
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peachesyeo · 8 days
Text
The Visit
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word count - 0.5k words pairings - nonidol!san x nonidol!jongho x fem!character sypnosis - san found jongho visiting their old friends. genre - mature, angst chapter warnings - mention of death, major character death, mention of suicide, alochol, violent descriptions, approach with tissues and caution.
author's notes: i'm sorry, i'm in a sad mood today. no beta read for you, sousy. (:
pernament taglist (ateez) — @watermelon2319 @levishun pernament taglist — @sousydive @yeodeulz @oddracha @jaerisdiction @yukichan67 @evidive @onysmamas
network: @newworldnet
back to masterlist?
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San didn't know Jongho would be visiting her today.
He watched from behind the tree, as Jongho placed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone, in front of her. San stood there, noticing how much Jongho had changed through the years.
Jongho's hair was slicked back, like how San used to style his own hair. He was wearing a black suit with a tie, and he was more skinny than San had remembered. His baby fat from his face was gone, replaced by a sharper jawline. His boots were polished neatly, and Jongho knelt down, taking out two small glasses of soju.
San's lips curled weakly at the sight. That soju was her favourite brand and in her favourite flavour, something that none of them failed to notice when she was alive. They would always buy the watermelon flavoured one, which she hates.
San's head lowered. Memories of how unfair they treated her rushed back into his mind, and the hole of regret and sadness swallowed him whole once more. His tears gathered to his eyes as he rushed his hands up to his mouth, sniffling a sob back in. His legs gave in, and San, like Jongho, kneeled down towards the direction where she was resting forever.
They killed her. He killed her. Choi San, why? Why didn't you notice how much pain she was in? Why didn't you answer her last call? Why weren't you fast enough that day?
If only he was fast enough, if only he answered her calls, if only he noticed how much pain she was in...
She would still be alive. She would be standing beside him. He would have told her to give up on the others, to be with him instead.
But he wasn't. He did not care about her. He ignored her calls. He was too late.
The blood seeping through the bathroom tiles haunts his dreams every night.
"Hyung." San looked up. Jongho was standing in front of him, looking down right at him. He was holding an empty glass and was offering it to him. "Want a drink?"
Jongho scanned the older man as he stood straight up, accepting the drink. San's style had changed drastically, he was wearing a soft and dark purple turtleneck, his red hair dyed back to its original black. He seemed to be even thinner than before, Jongho noticed his legs limping as they walked towards Kyujin's tombstone.
San broke his leg after being attacked by the hooligans who hung around the streets of the illegal boxing ring. In fact, San and Wooyoung got attacked together. Wooyoung's injuries were way worse, resulting in him currently being in a deep coma.
The group has not met each other for five years, ever since she died. Hongjoong hyung buried his grief in his work. Seonghwa is busy with his cases as a lawyer. Yunho had gone overseas. Yeosang is admitted to a mental health institution. Mingi...
Killed himself.
On the second anniversary of her death.
San and Jongho both stopped at the tombstone next to hers, Jongho placing an empty cup down in front of it. "Have some soju too, Mingi hyung."
Mingi's photograph smiled brightly at them. San waved at Mingi, his eyes turning into a straight line.
"Hey, Mangi."
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©peachesyeo, 2024
i do not own the dividers nor pictures used in banner. all credit goes to their original owners. owner of animated / 18+ divider ; owner of wire divider
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kadextra · 7 months
Text
I have thoughts about q!Bad taking the soul vulture outside earlier because that really surprised me
He was sitting, depressed on the church roof talking about missing his kids in full view with it leashed by his side. Just numbly monologuing and barely acknowledging it was there as it continually kept on attacking him. He made no moves to stop what was happening, then just put it back in the box.
First of all. why????????
Like I can see no world where this was a rational decision???? Dapper kept these creatures under extremely tight security underground for a reason, because if the Federation/Code found out what they were capable of it could spell the end for everyone. In their journal, Dapper wrote about a time when one did accidentally escape outside, and she panicked and ran all over the server trying to contain it… now we have Sadboyhalo here choosing to take one out in public, attached to himself. Any islander could’ve walked by at any moment and saw him, put two and two together that this is the thing that’s been hurting him, the Federation could’ve seen it. this might literally be something that Dapper may consider a leak/betrayal too?
Maybe, q!Bad took it out to feel closer to his son on their birthday in some kind of twisted way, because it was the last thing they shared together? But then he easily could’ve gone to the actual secret soul vulture lab, right next to the sign she left and not take it outside??????? was it simply more self destructive behavior in a particularly bad moment? then why have it so risky in the open? idk guys it doesn’t make sense….maybe it’s not supposed to.
We’ve had the thought that he’s been using the soul vultures to continue Dapper’s research on the soul hearts / soul potions. Yeah I do think that he might be, but do I think that’s all? No. It has gone way too far for it to be just that anymore. I’ve been wondering this for a long time but today kinda proves it for me, I’m 100% sure that the soul vultures are playing as a symbolism for q!Bad’s mental state at the same time as causing a physical plot effect on the character. it’s the self-destructive behavior, the drastic actions he is willing to take, his pov of being expendable
At first, they reflected his torn up grieving mind and he’d go down to the cage on purpose to hurt himself. The damage started to leave lasting impact on his body with the blue corruption that’s gotten worse and worse, along with his mental health. Then he released a vulture in the cage to torture Ron, showing how far he was willing to go in crossing the line. Now, post-psychotic breakdown he brings the vulture out in public, which directly precedes what? him suddenly opening his house to the public for everyone on the server to come celebrate Dapper’s birthday party, where they got front row seats to the delusions he’d only been doing in private. it was so weird from him because this man never invites people to his house like that.
What is he intending by doing all of this? is he intending anything? how much is all part of his big plans, and how much is driven by emotion or a lack of lucid decision-making? maybe this new behavior is because he thinks his delusions can no longer be contained in “safe places” like his home anymore (because are they even safe?) and so he’s not caring to show it. or maybe he wants people to pay more attention as a cry for help?
I really have no idea but everything is soooo obviously getting worse with him. and his friends might be seeing more of this from here on out
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moonliched · 3 months
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I really love Y/N's look, what led you to add things like double rows of teeth? What led you to that design? Was there another one design before?
bonks my head against yours like a cat!! thenks :3
i repurposed an old self insert oc i had as a teenager bc i wanted to be self indulgent! some edgy gothic white haired girl with a fringe over one eye lmao��� i miss her...
their colour palette is pale and greyish as a nod to the grey Y/Ns in this community, their hair is white bc mine used to be white, and their hairstyle is one i used to wear swimming! i was also inspired by futuristic white aesthetics and Suichu Niso underwater modelling shoots.
i pretty much immediately settled on Y/N as they are here including webbed feet and finger scarring, and then built on more alien features later. the 4th image down is actually the first time i drew them. i think i got the idea for the teeth about a month into writing, prior to the first chapter going up. mostly i decide on things by daydreaming a funny or angsty scenario based on their alien heritage, and then seeing if i can work it into the story without it seeming clumsy or overcomplicating matters for myself. i overcomplicate things a lot😅 for example i'm regretting having two suits. and two subs. why did i do that?? lol
there's a scene coming up soon after chapter 12 involving the teeth and Vanessa - that's the scenario that inspired Y/N's lil shark teeth. i was also thinking that if i met a mermaid i would totally want a scale as a souvenir, but what would be the mermaid equivalent? hair? a fingernail makes me shiver. but teeth, when losing a row is a semi-regular affair, would be cool. even humans collect teeth!
i don't have a concrete image in mind yet for the natives of Y/N's home planet, but it's something in the realm of humanoid-fish-person, scaly, they have hair but it's not human-grade. an alien unfamiliar with humanoids would easily mistake them for regular humans (they got four legs and a little round head, right?) whereas humans and the fish people would be very offended to be lumped in together lmao. as a result i got a lot of freedom with what Y/N gets to inherit! their human-ness is bit of a disappointment to their guardian tho, so they don't get the full deck of fishy cards.
this might be tmi, some rambling about MEEE!! at first the evidence of having alien features removed was going to be more drastic - i thought over flippers surgically mutated into human feet, a missing tail, scales laser-removed - but decided against those. i was having a really tough time with my disability and chronic pain, and i wanted to live vicariously through Y/N, so they pass as able-bodied. i can't run or swim anymore so it's nice that they can. i think the missing finger webbing counts as a disability, esp when taking into account their issues with managing the discomfort from the scar tissue, and having to actively maintain their health to avoid the drawbacks that would arise from this kind of amputation. Y/N should be grateful i wanted to cosplay as able-bodied, otherwise they'd be far worse off😌🫰
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bonesandthebees · 3 months
Note
I just rounded off my period so a massive L to all of you I suppose /lhj
I'm in so much pain about the Wilbur situation in general and have so many mixed feelings. Like I've only just got a chance to sit down and read his 'apology' and all of the replies from content creators and (ex)fans alike. I was so close to throwing up that I had to close the tab /gen.
I've never really watched Shubble content, nor have I had a chance to watch her full vod on the issue, so my first instinct was to be a good little media sieve and try to be open-minded before making an opinion. I won't lie, I was trying very hard to convince myself that it wasn't Wilbur and everyone was jumping to conclusions (though the more I read made that less and less likely).
I was worried for Wilbur's group (tommy, phil, charlie etc) because there was no way they could stream without being harassed by it, and worried partially for Wilbur as well because of various mental health problems that he's admitted to in the past.
Now that he's responded, though, everything's so much worse. As someone who struggled with being on the victim side of abuse for a while, I feel awful for Shelby and everything that happened to her.
Charlie, Ranboo, Tubbo etc have all responded (most very passionately so I have no doubt where they stand), so that's good for them, but tommy and phil have yet to. I can't help but wonder if Techno knew, if it had even started by then or if Wilbur didn't tell him.
I've seen people making reasonable assumptions about signs in past content that may have pointed to Wilbur's abuse, but there are some people making reaches that don't even make sense and now I can barely consume content or even remember videos that i used to be fond of without worrying that it was just Wilbur manipulating people.
Also, as far as I'm aware, none of lovejoy have replied to the situation (apart from the ex trumpeter), so ash, mark and joe are getting hate when they haven't done anything (though I may have just not seen it yet).
Some part of my brain is convinced this is all some horrible nightmare and I'll wake up able to laugh and joke about SBI content with my friends, even if I know that'll likely never happen again.
If there's one thing for certain, it's that his response was not an apology. I do believe that he thought long and hard about it (even if it was just for superficial PR reasons) and maybe ran it by people he trusted, but it was not what he should have said in response to Shelby coming forward about his abuse. All he's done is dig a bigger hole and now thousands of his (ex)supporters have to live with the consequences of his actions.
Honestly, I just feel sad. Sad that it happened, sad that Wilbur isn't who I thought he was and sad that my life will be drastically different from here on out.
Sorry that that was so heavy. I just feel really confused and there's a pit in my stomach that's churning horribly.
-🌺 <3
oh of course SOMEONE just had to finish their period right when the rest of us get it smh /lh
yeah, this is such a horrible situation overall. for me at least his response made the situation somewhat more tolerable because it felt like a closure moment. it made me realize, oh, he was really awful the entire time and this shit apology proves it. however, I'm sure in a few days the reality will hit me and I'll feel awful again. it's not fun realizing someone you admired and were a fan of for so long was a completely different kind of person than the guy he presented himself as.
I don't know where you heard that charlie responded, because as far as I'm aware he has not said anything anywhere about this situation yet.
I also don't think it's very worthwhile for people to be combing through old vods and videos for 'questionable moments' they can point at and be like "look he was abusive the whole time!" because we don't know what's going on in cc's personal lives. more than anything that should be the take away here. we don't know these people, we don't know their personal relationships, we shouldn't be trying to pinpoint every questionable moment and prove something with it because we're not in these personal relationships with wilbur. the other cc's are. basically, don't overthink what you see in old vods or old videos. it's not going to help whatsoever and it's none of our business.
I've also had the thought that this feels like a nightmare I could wake up from. I've had that thought every day since shelby's stream first happened. but unfortunately that's not the case, and we need to focus instead on supporting the victims here
I'm sorry there's not much I can say to help. just try to take care of yourself. give yourself time. it'll get a bit easier with each passing day.
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marcsnuffy · 5 months
Text
My predictions (throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks)
• Ubers wins against Manshine, I can't imagine any other outcome (awfully biased)
• You know what. I'd love to see that match fully ngl. Snuffy v Chris Prince, Aiku+Sendou v Niou, Barou v Reo+Nagi+Chigiri. Agi focusing on analyzing instead of trying to fix Nagi... etc etc
• Barcha gets one or two goals at best and absolutely none at worst 😔
• Either something goes wrong with Bachira or Shidou & Bachira have emoji to emoji communication
• Either they don't have time to do the star change bc they win before that or the match ends while Loki and Lavinho are on the field.
• Charles will be specially grating to Ness, since they're both counterparts as the hearts of their respective teams
• Charles is a bit double-faced personality wise.
•PXG v BM starts out in PXG's favor, but then Something Happens (Ness cooperating with Isagi, Hiori cooperating with Kaiser or something crazy) and now their different formations fall apart
• Igaguri gets to play somehow and then gets fouled or pretends to. (I remember a theory I read somewhere that Igaguri will get Shidou to foul him specifically which will get him red-carded) I could see him magically getting to the u20 world cup team bench somehow.
• Loki switches formations from Rin to Shidou's which allows the Shidou-Kunigami rematch to happen AND for Karasu to see Hiori's newly awakened ego but then it goes back to Rin's formation. Maybe Karasu stays but Shidou goes back to the bench.
• Wildcard explained I'm not asking anymore
• Kaiser's side of the backstory. It's the most fucked up shit imaginable.
• This is more of a want than a need but I'd like Loki & Charles to be friendly with each other. The thing I do need though is Loki getting along with the Blue Lockers...
•Kaiser impact but it goes wrong
•Something terrible happens to Isagi and/or Kaiser and/or Rin
•Kaiser WILL call Zantetsu an idiot and this WILL cause him to get a boost to counter him
•Shidou and Rin fight again. Please. For my mental health.
• Shidou backstory maybe
• Team nice reunites and everything is fine until the match starts (even though Nanase will probably be surprised at Hiori's drastic change)
• Karasu makes an out of pocket comment at Hiori and he answers with another out of pocket comment. Karasu grins and he's like ah i see ya got yer ego now or whatever but like specifically referencing that flashback we saw a million times
•This match either fixes Rin or makes him way, way worse.
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Text
The Monster Inside All of Us ★ pt.1
✦ *.✧.* Monsters live in us, they are our being, they are a part of us, and no matter what we can't outrun them. But we can learn to live and even thrive in their presence. You new neighbor- Bachira Meguru- teaches you about a world different than your own. Word Count: 2.2k / Bachira x gn!reader
Tags: topics of abuse, found family, childhood friends got your back, character study.
*TW: some uncomfortable topics of mental health leading to abuse off screen, not understanding violence, little gore, please be careful.
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A/N: Hi guys! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° Thank you all so much for your patience with me, writing has been a little difficult lately (Im not the happiest with how this turned out but eh). This is more of a journal than story for me. There should be two or three parts depending on what feels right. I hope you enjoy and again some difficult topics will be explored, so please take care of yourself! PS: Child Meguru is precious protect him at all cost.☆★☆
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There is a monster in all of us.
At least that is what your dad is screaming, on the ground sobbing underneath the weight of two bodies restraining him. His eyes pleading, looking to your mother cradling her right arm, swollen, and dripping.
Big eyes try to see more through the thin crack in the door. It sounded like glass cracking or the thumps you heard earlier. Your small mind was wild with fear, and your imagination made it worse.
But most importantly, you wanted needed to see your mom's face.
A lot of things happened because of that night. Your mother would receive pity words filled with blank stares from neighbors that contrasted itself with the usual snacks and kind greetings from before.
Your mother's face became more sullen now that your father was off in re-ha-bili-tee?
You go to school, a small school where everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew everyone's "situations".
About a week later, you finally realized what your father meant when Matsuhiro, the class clown and the boy who would agree with anything to make him seem more "grown up", opened his stupid mouth during arts and crafts.
"My mommy tells me that your mommy should have taken it and been a good wife."
You didn't really understand what he meant by "taken it" and "good wife", because your mom was the best mom in the whole world but the way his seven-year-old face sneered down at you made you angry- no it was something more than anger.
The next thing you realize is your soft bloody knuckles bleeding and Matsuhiro pleading the exact same way your dad did those nights ago, and he wailed lips cracked and eyes swollen.
"You're a monster!"
It didn't bother you much as you landed another punch near his temple, because duh of course there is a monster in you.
There is a monster in everyone.
It wasn't long after, that you and your mom make the drastic move to Tokyo to live next to your mother's best friend from college. 'Her name is Yuu she is an amazing artist.' your mother says packing a backpack to the brim with trinkets, art supplies, and snacks.
On the bus ride there, your mother looks exhausted, big black seeps carve out her eyes and you don't really remember the last time your mom smiled.
She made you pinky promise while getting off the bus that you never, in her words, "hit a person again". She muttered something else along the lines of 'bills' also, but you squeezed her pinky either way because it put a smile on her face and made her happy.
That’s the most important thing. 
Back then, in the principal’s office, you refused to repeat what Matsuhiro said in front of everybody including his parents and your own mother. He couldn't say anything either with his lips swollen shut.
In the back of your mind, you shrug as you squeeze your pinkies together. Besides Matsuhiro wasn't a person, he is a monster.
───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ─────────────
You eventually make it to an apartment complex that was at least ten times bigger than your own. It was so big! It felt like it could touch the sky. Maybe you be living in the sky!
An audible sigh of relief comes from your mother behind you, lugging at least three suitcases.
Your hopes were dashed when you realized that apartment 109 meant you were on the first floor and not the hundredth. The door frame hung the sign, Bachira Yuu. Your mother flattening out her shirt gives a hesitant knock against the wood before the door burst open.
A woman, taller than your mother brown eyes light up at the sight of you two as if Christmas just knocked on her door, hair pulled back into a messy bun and streaks of blues and yellows adorned a pink jumper as she hugs your mother.
You were going to jump at her until your mother tentatively puts her arms around her as well, making it look like the second awkward hug in the history of hugs.
"Chiyu-chan!" She lets out and gawk because only you were called "chan" in the neighborhood, "How have you been! Oh is this little (Y/N)-chan. Almost as big as Meguru."
She squats down your head barely meeting her eyes as she ruffles your hair, "Ahhhh, maybe just a bit taller than my Meguru." Callused hands grab your chubby cheeks pulling out your lips into a smile before she squeals, "So cute!"
You really didn't want this women's colorful hands to be on your cheeks but glancing at your mother who had a semblance of a grin made you resist.
Small feet pitter-patter into the apartment, across the floors were tarps filled with half-empty buckets filled with blues, purples, to reds. The smell of the arts and craft room filled this apartment, it was nice.
Your mother's friend, Yuu Bachira, crossed the room swapping extra materials with her feet creating room, "Sorry sorry! I just got so focused on my recent project and forgot to clean, forgive me?" She gives a little wink as her hand rubs the back of her nape.
You expect a frown to form on your mother's face, she always bustled around your previous flat with strict diligence making sure no dust, no objects, and nothing were out of place.
Instead, she looked happy…?
"You're always the same Yuu-chan." And physically you take a step back, because "chan"! Your mother who notices everything about you, including how your mouth is now open in shock, chuckled before pushing you towards the gushing woman, " Yuu-chan has won a lot of awards for her art, maybe she could teach you a thing or two?"
You close your mouth, excitement already in your eyes.  Last month you almost won first place at the elementary school art contest (instead you won an honorary position because having seven-year-olds vote is rigged especially when you were the talk of the town). The first prize was a month's worth of popsicles, but you only won a little sticker book instead. You remember sticking many of them on the refrigerator.
Yuu crouches on the ground reaching your eye level.  "Then how about you see my latest project? I desperately need your advice for the final touches!"
───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ─────────────
Looking at her art piece made your little eyes widen in astonishment. Swirls of purples and blue melded over yellow wash as the colors twisted and turned with her paintbrush delicately. With inspiration came chaos and she would dip her fingers into a side bucket of paint before flicking yellow sparks around the edges. If you cris crossed your eyes hard enough together it almost looked like two eyes staring back at you.
"Do you like it?" You hear Yuu say before she walks over to her canvas that dwarfs her, she puts a hand on the rim of it, "I tried to capture the essence of it."
You look at the piece, hues of blue accented with the yellow probably from her fingertips, it's amazing.
She grins as if she heard your thoughts, "Thank you, I am proud of this one." You blink, did she read your mind?
You were about to speak, out loud, until the sounds of metal banged across from you two leading you to jump head darting left and right.
Yuu pats you on the back and a calm rushes over your beating heart, "Perfect timing." before she walks to the edge of her studio unlocking a metal door painted in reds and oranges. A small boy, shorter than you stumbles in eyes red, cuts on his arms and cheeks. Dark brown hair with yellow highlights that curled around the nape up wearing a grass-stained shirt decorated with a shark.
Yuu smile now gone lowers herself onto her knees rubbing her fingertips along the side of his head along with his arms. Satisfied with what she was looking for she brushed the strands of grass left on his shirt before standing up, "Now how did you get this way hm?"
The boy looks down before kicking the ground, "They asked me to play soccer and then-" he looks up eyebrows furrowing as he stomped his foot, "they called me weird! Weird 'cause they couldn't get the ball away from me!" He stares as Yuu confused, "but they aren't right. They should just be better!"
She gives a small nod before pulling out a band-aid from one of her many pockets and placing it on his nose. “You know Meguru-kun, they are just jealous of you.” She says while rubbing out some grass from his hair, “they probably can’t hear ‘it’ anymore.”
You blink. It?
You really need to control your mouth more because the boy lets out a little shout before looking around his mother towards you as if he didn’t expect you to be there. He peers up at his mother’s eyes, “Mommy who is that?” Clear fascination shows in his eyes as he points toward you.
Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like how previous people would stare makes your stomach flip but your strong, and your mother taught you first impressions are important, “Im (Y/N). Im your….” You look towards his mother because you really weren’t sure what you are now. Yuu finishes your sentence, “our new neighbor Meguru-kun.”
By the look on his face, it seems like he is about to ask a million questions, but you're faster as you clamor towards Yuu. You point to the painting, its hues vibrant against the sun leaking in, “What do you mean by ‘it’?”
This must throw her for a loop because she starts tapping her foot against the floor, head tilting a bit, “Ah how to say it. Like something that burns in your soul.” She snaps her fingers, “Oh! Like a monster, something a bit scary but something strong.”
Your head also tilts in confusion as her son speaks, “Monsters? You mean like the ones on TV?” he puffs his chest out a bit, “but those don’t exist!”.
You think of the monsters you’ve encountered. They didn’t look like the televised ones but they felt the same. The way the previous neighbors looked at you after the incident, Matsuhiro sneering down at you and most importantly you remember the far-off look your mother would have after “incidents” staring blankly at the wall when she thought you were asleep.
You can still hear apologies muffled through thin wooden doors.
.
.
.
"What do you mean? Of course, there are monsters."
You blink as the two of them look at you almost surprised by the steadiness of your voice. The boy’s face shows clear excitement, but his mother read of something you could not understand as her lips clenched tight.
Taking a step closer to the boy you point at his chest, "It’s right there, inside." A pause as you reflect, “The monster.”
He points to his chest also, his small fingers mimicking yours at a short distance as he presses against himself. He looks in awe as if he can see the latest Godzilla hosted inside of himself. That’s not what you mean.
You repeat again, slower, "We all have monsters in us. That's what my dad told me. They take us."
Bright yellow eyes twinkled understanding filling in, "Oh, Like when I can't stop dribbling!"
A frown appears on your lips, you didn't know what "dribbling" is, but he seemed to be the only one who might understand as Yuu still wore a lisp of a frown on the edge of her lips before taking a deep breath. The smile you were used to seeing set on her face again.
His mother puts a hand on both of your guy’s foreheads rubbing both of your hair till it’s a mess. Well, his hair was already filled with grass and twigs yours would probably be filled by dried paint at the end of the day.
"That's right you two. A huge monster lives in both of your hearts, a voice that pushes you to follow yourself though-" she lightly flicks the tip of her son's nose where he let out a little 'ow', "violence is not good. People are jealous of how you both follow that voice."
She gives a smile before bringing the two of you into a hug, "When people grow up, they stop listening, stop believing in its own fleeting yet precious voice." She brings them back looking into their eyes, "But that a waste isn't it!"
She turns back to her artwork with pride, admiration, and longing all put into one, "I still believe you should listen to its voice because look at the beauty behind it."
Her son brightens, but you think about her words.
How it held a warm sort of kindness when she speaks about her said ‘monster’.
It’s voice guiding her…
You wonder why the voice was telling you to aim for Matsuhiro's temples instead of his nose.
And then you start to wonder, as you look at his mother's artwork if there were different monsters out there.
Not kind monsters.
Especially in you
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batmanfruitloops · 5 months
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Finally finished Harley's backstory!
Also, please let me know if I need more trigger warning tags, I'm not sure I covered them all, but I'm drawing a blank,
Harleen couldn't remember a time when her parents had gotten along, nor was she old enough to remember when they divorced, but she did remember how different living with each of them was, and that she much preferred the time with her father.
Her mother treated Harleen well enough, but she was almost always out of the house partying or gambling, leaving Harleen to take care of herself if she was unable to on a given day. She woke herself up for school, made herself food, and sometimes if she was lucky, her mother wasn't too hungover to spend a little time with her.
Her father, on the other hand, treated Harleen like his most precious treasure, taking her out to the circus whenever he could and buying her ice cream after picking her up from school. He had Bipolar (I'm not too sure which one, I need to do more research) and depression for a long time, but he did his best not to let it affect Harleen. From about middle school, Harleen started to show similar traits as her father, as well as being tested for narcissism, but her father knew how to help, so Harleen was able to keep them in check.
It wasn't until his own health started to drastically decline when Harleen was graduating high school that things got hard. She had already balanced having a job with her schoolwork, but found herself looking for a better paying job, as her father could no longer work as well to help with rent. She managed all that while still preparing to get a degree to go in therapy, but it was starting to affect her. Worse, her father's attitude towards her started to change. Not only was he extremely depressed all the time, he would have bouts of extreme aggression or hysteria before becoming despondent, judgemental, and intensely suicidal. Harleen was terrified, especially since she couldn't stay home with him all the time. Not if she wanted to keep her job and finish her degree.
She took him to a lot of doctors to see if they could help, but their answers all lead to an unknown form of disease that seemed to latch unto the brain and affect pre-existing health issues. This devastated Harley, and she was honestly terrified too. The doctors had warned that it tended to run in the family, so there was a high chance this would happen to her too.
It was all too much, her brain was swimming, practically drowning her thought after thought, and she could hardly tread on. She continued to work, albeit her coworkers noticed the shift. She had exams coming up, ones that would determine if she got her degree or not, but she'd barely been able to study and so…she cheated. She'd never done so in her life. It hurt her pride, and her father would be so disappointed, but he didn't have to know. It was all for him anyway,
Harleen passed, and she was lucky to get a job as a Blackgate therapist. Her schedule made it possible to watch her father most of the time, and this eased her mind, although her father's treatment kept her morale low. After a few years, she was offered a new therapist position at Arkham that was better paying for less hours, and she gladly accepted.
This is where she became John's (Jokers) therapist. They shared an interest in circus’, but there wasn't much else they agreed on. Harleen was also very drained by her father at this point, and had taken a lot of what he said to heart, so despite not agreeing with everything she said, Harleen still repeated harsh, personal things to John. Something about his genuine, fragile nature bothered her. And much in the same way, Harleen reminded John of his mother in the worst aspects.
On one particularly exhausting day, Harleen found her father had hung himself while she was at work. Her heart sank. She almost didn't believe it, but it really was him. She barely allowed herself to mourn and continued to work, finding herself lashing out at John even more. She lost it, starting to beat him as he helplessly buckled.
Now Strange didn't usually care if his patients were treated poorly, he often engaged such behavior himself, but some higher ups were visiting to access the Asylum because of Attorney Dent and Mr. Wayne's concerns. So when they witnessed Harleen beating John, she had to be fired.
At this point, Harleen feels she has nothing left, and after a bout of depression she goes back out as Harley Quinn, tired of trying to fight all the emotions and pain tangled up inside her.
- Sarsee
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torchwood-99 · 15 days
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Modern AU Headcanon
(This basically turned into a soap opera)
Faramir is low contact with Denethor. Denethor isn't outright abusive (not like in the films) but they have a strained relationship. In some ways they're very similar, and in others ways very different. They both have very firm senses of right and wrong, and struggle to meet in the middle. In particular, Denethor believes very much in filial obedience, but feels like Faramir is judging him, which Faramir probably is at least some of the time, and this creates antipathy between the two.
It wasn't too bad during Faramir's childhood (except that Denethor's work and mental health meant he wasn't always present, but Imrahil and his family made sure Faramir and Boromir had a supportive family unit), but when Boromir died their mutual grief and the lack of Boromir as a buffer meant that things got very bad with them.
Before they could still be prickly and disagree over stuff, but they could also spend pleasant time together, discuss mutual academic interests, etc... But after losing Boromir the strain between them grows worse, and in the end they have to step away from each other.
So they're still in each other's lives, but their communication is limited, and has a degree of formality. Even after the worst of the antipathy has passed, there's a mutual discomfort between the two, to avoid arguments they maintain a certain coolness, which they're both a bit sad about.
Eowyn is no contact with her family, and it happened quite drastically from their perspective, but for Eowyn it was building up for a while.
Eowyn pretty much ran away from home.
Theoden had an ongoing condition that lasted several years, which left him with limited mobility and on a fair bit of medication, meaning he required near constant care. And through a mix of being the youngest and a girl, the weight of his care fell onto Eowyn's shoulders.
Their family horse farm, Edoras, is in quite an isolated area, which is also fairly conservative in terms of gender roles and has a stigma around mental health and disabilities.
Theodred and Eomer did everything they could to keep their farm (horse breeding/training?) going, and the work certainly had a toll on them, Eomer perhaps giving up on his career in the army. However the work was work they both genuinely cared about, and found fulfilment in. They also had clocking off time, to go down to the pub and hang out with friends, and their work did give them the chance to travel and meet with other people.
Eowyn was stuck in the house, tending to Theoden 24/7. She had no clock off time, except for when one of the boys offered to watch Theoden so she could have a couple of hours to go for a ride or go to the cinema. Because this wasn't "their job", they saw this as them being very generous to Eowyn, and naturally during that time laundry wasn't done and dinner wasn't prepped or anything like that.
Eowyn's academics struggled because of this, and because her family's work was either the farm or the military, academics wasn't particularly prized and it was just accepted that Eowyn had no future in it. Eowyn might not have considered herself the academic type, but the lack of degrees severely limited opportunities for work and experiences elsewhere, no university, less chance of a career. Her life would be wedded to the farm, but as doing the housework and support stuff so Eomer and Theodred could focus on the farm and the horses. She also only got housekeeping money and the odd the bit of pocket money, but as the profits from the farm are handled by Theodred and Eomer, she had to depend on them for cash. She didn't get a regular wage or anything like that, nor was she getting a profit from the farm.
During this time, she was also groomed by Grima, a family friend of Theoden who helped with money and the farm and visited regularly to keep Theoden company, something Theoden depended on as he was isolated. Grima started off trying to offer Eowyn a shoulder to cry on, commiserating with her on her lack of opportunities, trying to drive a wedge between her and her brother and cousin, offering her presents and trying to make her feel dependant on him. Eowyn disliked Grima so she always held him at arm's length, but she didn't speak up about his creepiness because she thought her uncle needed his company.
Eomer eventually saw Grima crossing a line with Eowyn, touching her hair perhaps, and he didn't care for him either but stuck up with him for Theoden's sake, but after seeing that he made it clear he was to stay away.
Theoden did eventually recover, but Eowyn's position in the family remained unchanged. Theoden was anxious to be in his old position as one of the guys, so he threw himself back into the farm work, and all the domestic work stayed on Eowyn's shoulders. It was also left to Eowyn to ensure Theoden continued with his treatment, taking his medication, going to appointments, which Theoden, in his discomfort at being seen as sick or frail, spun as Eowyn being a typical fusspot, and treated his accepting treatment as him humouring her. He joined the guys down at the pub, while Eowyn was left alone at the house.
Eowyn finally called it quits after hearing Theoden having a heart to heart with Eomer about how he loved him as much as a son, thanking him for all the work he did keeping the farm going while he was sick, and declaring him and Theodred his legacy, assuring him he trusted them with looking after the farm after he was gone.
By this point Eowyn did have access to some of the family cash, mostly so she could do the shopping and see to other domestic costs, and she took out a decent portion, what she saw as her due for years of being an unpaid housekeeper/carer, and then got a train to Minas Tirith, (the big fancy city filled with opportunities).
There she meets Merry, an PHD candidate/lecturer on herblore, who lives above a pub with his boyfriend Pippin. Pippin owns the pub, but lives off his trust fund. Their roommate, Frodo, recently moved in with his boyfriend Sam, and Sam's girlfriend Rosie, and Eowyn meets them while looking for a cheap place to live. She ends up working the pub, getting double pay as bartender/bouncer, because she knows a lot about self defence.
Eowyn struggles a bit adapting to her new freedom and independence, and apart from work mostly hides in her room, overwhelmed by the culture change. Merry and Pippin (especially Merry) encourage her to be more social and take advantage of all the opportunities the city has to offer.
Of course the Fellowship, Sam, Frodo, Pippin, Merry, Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli are still just as much of a gang as in the books, as was Boromir before he died, and Pippin's pub is their regular meeting place. The Fellowship "adopted" Faramir after Boromir died, and through them Eowyn and Faramir meet.
Faramir is going through a career change, deciding to do a PHD in History, which he wanted to do all along, but he gave up in favour of working for the family business. Eowyn is looking for a purpose after leaving home, and she and Faramir get chatting about university courses (the universities in Minas Tirith don't charge fees). Eowyn wants to retake her school exams (GCSEs equivalent) and Faramir offers to tutor her.
After passing her school exams, Eowyn is still by nature very outdoorsy, and wants to do a degree that gets her outside as much as possible. She ends up pursuing a career in conservation, actually following in Aragorn and Arwen's footsteps, who do conservation work and start Eowyn up with trying a bit of volunteering, then helping her to get onto an apprenticeship scheme.
Back at the farm, Eowyn's family is blind sighted by her disappearance, especially Eomer who is panic stricken in case something happened to her. (He actually tracks down Grima and threatens him in case Grima did anything to her.) Because Eowyn never said anything they had no idea she was so unhappy, although as the housework starts piling up they do start to get an idea of just how much work Eowyn did, and how little free time she had.
Eomer becomes obsessed with finding Eowyn, not entirely convinced she wasn't kidnapped, and manages to track her down to Minas Tirith. Eomer knows Aragorn through his army days and through Boromir, but because Eowyn switched her last name after moving to the city and is cagey about her past, Aragorn doesn't know she is Eomer's sister, and when Eomer comes to the city and looks him up, Aragorn offers to help him find her. He brings Eomer to the pub, where Eowyn sees him and panics, and gets Faramir to help smuggle her out.
She and Faramir open up about their past together. Faramir doesn't push Eowyn to respond to Eomer's arrival in a certain way (even though his grief over losing his own brother makes it tempting for him to do so), but his understanding of the situation encourages her to give it a go.
Eowyn and Eomer's reunion is difficult. With a lot of anger and blame on both sides.
Eomer is angry at Eowyn for making him and the family worry so much, and for leaving without a word. Eowyn is filled with residual fury for how she was treated over the years. Eomer accuses Eowyn of not being loyal to the family, which infuriates Eowyn as she gave up her identity for the family.
Eowyn asking Eomer when they first noticed she was gone, when breakfast wasn't made or when they saw that last night's washing up hadn't been done, and that hits a little close to home.
When Eowyn does open up about she felt all those years, and how it felt hearing Theoden call Eomer and Theodred his legacy, all the while treating her like a crutch it embarrassed him to use, Eomer initially responds with explanations and excuses and an insistence that they "all had to do their bit" and that "Theoden didn't mean it like that" or Eowyn was "taking it the wrong way". He also thinks Grima the root of most of Eowyn's problems, and while Grima made things a lot worse, Eowyn is frustrated that Eomer can't see she was unhappy without him.
Eomer eventually asks Eowyn why she didn't just say anything. Eowyn struggles to explain, and Eomer struggles to understand, the pressure Eowyn felt to do as was asked of her, how Eowyn never felt like she had a choice and how she was just expected to do the "women's work", and how that choice was made for her, especially in light of her youth and her dependence on the family, the suffering of her schoolwork which was dismissed as her being "not book smart" and only good for working on the family farm, and any attempts of hers to speak up being waved away as young adult's grumbling and moaning, making her feel guilty for not being happy with her lot.
All of this is a massive blow, as he and Eowyn were very close as children, and he always saw the two of them as a team, and always expected that Eowyn would just come to him if she had a problem.
There's a lot of shouting, a lot of tears. This all takes place in the flat, and the Fellowship (Faramir included, honourary member) are downstairs, trying to eavesdrop on it all. Some (Aragorn, Faramir, Arwen, Frodo and Sam) are trying to act like that they're just there in case Eowyn or Eomer need them afterwards, and insist they're not listening in. Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Legolas and Rosie are shameless about trying to here everything that's being said, and at one point for a human pyramid on the bar table so that Pippin can be lifted up high enough to put his ear against the ceiling.
Eomer is devastated after the meeting, and is left reeling that his sister, who he thought himself very close to and always on the same side as him, had been unhappy for years, and nurtured resentment towards him and the family he adored, and the farm he made his life's work. Aragorn and Arwen take him home to cool down, and let him stay with them while he and Eowyn try to figure things out.
Eowyn does eventually begin to reconcile with her family, but stays in Minas Tirith, while Eomer goes back to their farm.
Eomer and Theodred occasionally come up to meet her, but Theoden isn't up to travelling. Eowyn's relationship with Theoden is very slow to heal in particular, due to Theoden's own lingering demons regarding his years being dependant on Eowyn, and Eowyn struggling to disconnect her (understandable but unfair) resentment of Theoden being sick and needing to be taken care of, and her (very fair) resentment of how he treated her following his recovery.
Faramir and Denethor's relationship still has underlying strain, but Eowyn and Faramir's growing closeness improves it a bit, as she and Denethor actually manage to establish a bit of a rapport, both being spiky tongued, (Eowyn all the while having Faramir's back), and Eowyn also acts as a buffer between them, as Boromir did. Denethor and Faramir's relationship has to be managed carefully, but they see more time with each other, and the time they share is spent more comfortably. Denethor is very happy (in his way) when Eowyn and Faramir become official.
Eowyn doesn't go back to Edoras for several years. When she does go, Faramir goes with her. Partially as emotional support, but also to introduce him to Theoden as her fiance.
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cyanide-latte · 2 months
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@ramshacklerumble and @theleechyskrunkly I love that y'all both asked this one, it made me chuckle
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Copper Benoit- He has a couple of self-destructive behaviors when he first comes to NRC that I think get addressed pretty quickly, those being binge-eating and under-eating (as a result of years of food insecurity) and binding his chest incorrectly (as a result of never being properly taught.) Since he's sorted into Pomefiore, the Pomefiore trio as well as @tixdixl 's Pomefiore boy, Emil, really help him with those particular challenges. His self-deprecating thoughts take a little longer to overcome and a lot of love and patience on the parts of his dormmates, friends, and Kalim. His maladaptive response to fear however (that impulse to react to whatever frightens him by trying to further aggravate it to see how much worse the situation can get,) might never go away.
Wei Renqiao- I'm...not entirely sure what his self-destructive behaviors are, per se. Any time he starts to show signs of neglecting his physical or mental-emotional health, he's usually got his little Ignihyde found family to remind him to take care of himself. The most self-destructive thing I can think of that he might do is constantly tell himself he doesn't need or deserve happiness. He can just be content with his meeting his end goals and doing things for others, why should he think he deserves to be happy? He can be perfectly content just being useful and appreciating what good moments do come his way. (Ren. Buddy. Pal. I think you and I need to have a talk.)
Chrysanthos Shroud- Ppppppppfffffffffttttt, H A. So Chrys was absolutely self-destructive when he was attending NRC. His life prior was very good and he was extremely happy (barring the tragedy with his cousins and how that also impacted him,) but he did NOT adapt well to life at NRC, much less to being sorted into Octavinelle instead of Ignihyde. Recklessly racing blastcycles, intentionally avoiding making friends with almost anyone else, overworking himself, under-eating, taking up chain-smoking underage, he was on a path to complete self-destruction. And it caught up with him and he was genuinely lucky he survived to be able to keep attending, to narrowly avoid going into Overblot because he had a professor who cared about him and parents who continually showered him with love and support and help. In the years since his junior year, Chrys went through a lot of healing and growth, and that's arguably the backbone of why he tends to give the students he meets at NRC very blunt but well-intentioned talks about their shortcomings they're unaware of or in denial of. Perhaps it's also the big brother vibe he has, but he doesn't want to see any of them race down that same path he was on. Sometimes getting the truth from a stranger can hurt but it can also save your life, and if anything he says or does can help prevent any NRC students from extreme self-destruction, then he doesn't care how much they may dislike him for being so blunt. (He does still smoke but his relationship with that has changed drastically as well. Ortho still tries to convince him to stop though.)
Thank you both for the asks!
Here's the rest of the Taglist: @blithesharem @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @inmateofthemind @rainesol @simons-twsted-children @thehollowwriter (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for my TWST OCs!)
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httpsbearily · 2 days
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☆*: Sweeter Than Pie
Valen being a professional smooth talker but still being bitchless is so funny to me so here is him trying his hardest to court you but lwk being bad at it someone help him Please. It’s kinda slow burn cause that’s my favorite trope, and it’s super rushed, but I hope it’s still enjoyable :)
[Tags]: fluff | valen x reader | GN Reader
[Authors’ note]: ofc my first post had to be with my bbg— valen if you’re reading this ily ♡
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The cool morning breeze carried the chatters of the townsfolk all across Holistone. Although the sun had only just risen, there was already a bustling level of activity within the town as its residents prepared for a full days worth of business and chores. Amongst the early morning birds was you, a baker employed by a renowned bakery in Holistone. The owner— your childhood friend—had offered you the job during its rise in popularity when customer demand had surpassed shop output drastically and simply could not keep up. At the time, you hadn’t had much baking experience, but your friend had been desperate for any help they could get and immediately started teaching you the ropes before you could even understand what each ingredient was.
Obviously in your amateur days, your baked goods had not been quite the best—A feat that had your friend apologetically switching responsibilities with you, exchanging their server/cashier duties for your baker ones after you presented a cinnamon roll glaze accidentally made with sour cream instead of cream cheese. However, despite your learning blunders, the knight you met soon after beginning your job had taken (and eaten?!) everything you had practiced on with a charming smile and compliments of all the things you had done well that time.
How the two of you met was quite the story as well; You had only been working at the bakery for a few weeks and had only just gotten a grasp of optimal mixing texture for muffins when the small door bell had chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer. You were a bit surprised because of the late hour but got over it quickly when you set your mixing bowl down and wiped your hands on your apron before making your way to the front station.
“Hello, welcome! Could I help you with anything?” You greeted with a smile, looking at the figure that was bent over looking into the glass display of foods. The sound of your voice seemed to catch the figure by surprise and they straightened up, a curious expression on their face.
“Good evening! I was just stopping by to pick up some desert for my boss since it’s his birthday today, but it seems you’re all out of cupcakes?” The stranger said to you with a casted glance back over to the empty section on the display. He ran a hand through his chestnut hair with a sigh, “I know it’s a little late to be celebrating a birthday, but you wouldn’t possibly have any extras in the back would you?”
“Ah…we do but,” You shook your head slightly, your smile becoming sheepish, “I’m not confident that they’re well enough to be sold…at least, I couldn’t do so without feeling concerned for your health.”
The man only laughed, putting a hand on his hip as he tilted his head. “Oh? Why’s that? As a knight of the Heroic Order, I feel I should ask in duty if they’ve been poisoned or something.”
You shook your head frantically; A knight of the heroic order?! Now you were sure you couldn’t, in good heart, sell your practice cupcakes to him much less his boss! But…on the other hand…if word got out that your friend’s bakery served even the Heroic Order, business would boom more intensely. Of course you wanted nothing but the best for your friend and it certainly was not complain-worthy that your paycheck would increase as well. Still, with your skill level you might end up giving the poor knight and his boss food poisoning, or worse, and that might backfire on the bakery. Conflicted, you decided to explain the situation to the knight and let him decide what chances he’d rather take.
“No, no! They’re not poisoned I swear! They were made by me, though, and I’m still learning my way around the kitchen. By that I mean they’re most likely subpar in flavor…I would not recommend giving them to your boss at least.”
“Really? Is that what’s happened?” The knight, as handsome as he was, made you a little nervous with his full-attention look as he seemed to consider the situation with a smile that never fell. “I see. Well, I’m already here so it’d be more in my favor if I at least try one of your creations. I’ve gotta admit I’m a little curious to see the result. After all, if Alex hired you, then you certainly have potential. We’ve known each other for a while so I feel I could say I understand his character; I don’t think he’d allow just anyone into his bakery.”
“Ah, Alex and I are childhood friends actually. I really didn’t have any baker experience before working here but my working here was convinent for the both of us so it ended up like this,” You responded, rubbing your neck awkwardly at the mention of your boss, “But if you’re really up for it then I’ll fetch those cupcakes for you. As a knight, you must not be much afraid of death after all”. You gave him a look before adding, “They might actually stop your heart. I miscalculated the sugar ratio…”
The knight, whose name you still hadn’t caught, only shrugged like it was nothing. Shaking your head again, you excused yourself to the kitchen where you picked up the messy tray that you had haphazardly covered with frosting in your attempts to add it to the cupcake tops. Dura above, you thought as you made your way back to the knight. You immediately looked to his face in anticipation of his reaction; Some part of you wanted to laugh because this was pretty ridiculous, but the other part of you felt a little embarrassed. “Here you are,” you set the tray down on the front desk, “half a dozen cupcakes made by yours truly.”
The knight hummed only and you really couldn’t tell his expression—was he purposefully keeping a straight face…—but he reached for one of the cupcakes without hesitation and took a big bite. You immediately lifted your hand to your mouth to cover your shock, a laugh threatening to spill from your lips because you knew he was actively schooling his expression. There was no way no one would be able to not flinch at the overly sweet flavor (you knew, you tried one yourself earlier). Nothing was said between the two of you as he stood there chewing the desert for a few seconds before swallowing.
“They’re perfect,” he said nonchalantly, “I’ll take them all.”
Startled, you gaped at him, “..Sir…you can’t be serious. Let me get you some water, I fear you’ve given yourself a sugar induced stroke!”
He waved his hand in dismissal, “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. The sunset color of them is just right. Good job!”
“The color?!” Disbelief replaced your shock and you sighed. This man really just pulled a compliment out of his ear to save you some face—the cupcakes weren’t even supposed to be sunset colored, but white instead! You didn’t have the heart to correct him so you smiled solemnly instead. “A knight, huh? You truly live up the the reputation. How about I give you a small cake instead, baked by Alex himself. And that cup of water.”
“I’ll take that cup of water, thank you. But I’m fine with these, really. How many people can say they’ve had life changing cupcakes, literally? Besides, if any complaints arise from my boss I’ll just have to come back to you to return them.” That charming smile of his returned and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the display.
“Oh, we don’t accept returns I’m afraid,” you responded, “but I would be more than willing to work something out, and I’m sure my boss would understand once I explain it to him”
“That’s good enough for me.” Was all he said as you went to work packing the cupcakes in a box. When it was time for him to leave, he simply took the box—and a small paper cup of water—with a ‘thank you’ and turned to leave.
“By the way, my names Valen. You should stop by the Heroic Orders headquarters sometime. If you ever need any help.” And with a two finger salute, and a wink, he was out the door.
Since then, months have passed and regrettably you had never found a good enough excuse to take Valen up on his offer to stop by the knights’ office, but things hadn’t turned out for the worst. In fact, Valen had taken it upon himself to visit you at the bakery quite frequently, and every single time he visited he left with one of your baked creations; And each time he returned, he waxed poetry about them. Over time, your baking skills did eventually improve so Valen had and increasing amount of opportunity to praise more than just the desert’s color, but no matter what he said he left you feeling giddy. At some point during your interactions, he had taken to complimenting you as well, calling you beautiful as casually as he said your name and looking you straight in the eyes as he did so. It didn’t help that, on the occasions in which he would be gone for days at a time on a mission, he would bring you back some kind of souvenir or tell you that he missed your smile.
“Wouldn’t you say it would bring me good luck to have your smile with me wherever I go? It would definitely help reenergize me after a battle,” he had told you one day during a conversation in which he tried to convince you that the two of you should have matching lockets with each others pictures in them.
“I think you would feel better if you took better care of yourself—Look, you’re literally bleeding! I don’t have anymore bandages either, we need to get you to a doctor!”
“Oh, this? I’m fine, it’s just a graze. I was on my way to the infirmary but figured that I’d say hi to you first. I bet you missed me after being gone for a week,” he said to you, running his hand through his hair (a signature move) and leaning close into you.
“You’re going to be gone for the rest of eternity if you don’t stop bleeding out in my bakery,” You crossed your arms over your chest with a small worried frown, “If you go get that wound checked out then we can go shopping for lockets later.”
Valen grinned toothily, straightening up as he pulled out two matching necklaces with lockets from one oh his pockets, “That reminds me, I brought you a souvenir. Look, one of them is even a heart.”
You gave him a deadpan look but couldn’t hold it for long before you couldn’t help but smile. You took one of the necklaces and opened the locket to see a picture of you and Valen together—the picture taken at his surprise birthday party, coincidentally your first official launch as a professional baker since you had personally made the birthday cake. You felt your heart flutter at the picture and all the memories that came with it before looking back up at him with a fond look. In the few seconds that you had looked away, Valen had already put his on and all you caught was a glimpse of him tucking it into his collar.
“I feel better already, what did I tell you.”
“You fool,” you said endearingly, “Go seek medical help before I tell on you to General Hogan.”
“Hey no need to go so far! Fine, fine, I hate to love you and leave you, but all this blood loss is making me dizzy—or, it might just be you taking my breath away—Okay I’m going!” He said as you chased him out with a light blush dusting your face.
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spilledmilkfkdies · 2 days
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Hi, me again! I was just wondering, following the ‘what if the wizards were actually surrendering’ ask, if the wizards really did give up fairy hunting, what do you think they’d do? (Sorry if I’m sending you too many asks, I just really like your takes.) Thank you!
Hiii sorry it took me a sec to get to this one!! I'll put a link to that ask right here for anyone who's wondering, since it's been a bit. Never worry about sending too many asks either, like I said a while back; I'll get to them eventually! If it takes some time before you hear back from me, sincerely <3 My bad <3 Was a little occupied with another fandom this time and actively participating in both got to me djsksdk
Moving on though!
In my mind they've really already been living normally, like between locking away the fairies and Roxy's magic making itself known I mean- Of course the logistics of it are a bit um. All over the place. Considering they're immortal, sort of. Do they have legal documents? Real or fake? Did they have any mortal friends and how would that work? And JOBS?? The way none of these are obstacles for Duman btw, that's why they killed him, they didn't want him to roam and do whatever anymore. Real and Canon.
Now in a post-alt ending-S4 timeline, the one where they did surrender, do we assume that they just can't use their magic, or that they don't have it anymore? Because that'd probably change the way they live afterwards pretty drastically. Aside from the fact some of them heavily depend on magic more than the others (Ogron and Duman get help smh), HORRENDOUS case scenario, they might all be mortal. For the sake of my own mental health though, I'm just gonna say they do still have magic and are in fact not mortal, just give them a fairy parole officer, some magic blocking thing, keep them around and use them for "good" stuff after a rehabilitation period or something. That's what I'd prefer anyway.
What would they be doing during said rehabilitation period? Started out as a bit of a shared joke, but tbh Anagan model career WHEN. He'd struggle with the lack of useable magic the least too, so he'd probably thrive during the whole thing more than the others, and as he should. Besides Anagan I don't have a whole lot ngl- I mean, I'd like to think Duman had lots of jobs back in the day, not sure if I mentioned that before, but I might make a separate post if I didn't, just because I have thoughts but other stuff to talk about rn sjsjksk
Ogron and Gantlos don't have a lot either MY BAD, but I do think Ogron might be more likely to have friends, maybe surprisingly. Meanwhile Gantlos has a bigger chance of being able to hold down a stable job. What job? Great question! I'm not sure yet. If that changes I'll be sharing with the class!
Moving on once again!! What could the "good" stuff I mentioned above be exactly? Education.
Correct me if I'm wrong. But are there no. Wizard or witch school on Earth?? I know they ended up opening a fairy school later on, but those aren't the only magic users suddenly learning of the dormant magic in their roots. Let's take the comic character Gregory for example. He learns he's a wizard, he tries to enroll into a wizard school(?) off planet. Nothing inherently wrong with going to a school off planet- The Winx did it too, lots of magic users do it, what is wrong though, is being turned down and having no alternatives. And even worse?? They tell him it's because. There's a darkness in him?? Or something?? I could excuse it slightly more if it was a case of "Oh your magic is dark aligned and this is a light magic school" because wizard canonically are known to be both, right? But aside from the fact that, again, there are no alternatives for him, as far as he knows, telling a newly awakened magic user that he's basically too evil to teach is CRAZY I'm sorry??
Here's where I cutely insert the Wizards of the Black Circle. Have them become the place to go when your magic energy alignment is dark (because it doesn't inherently have to mean evil and they're worthy of education in this essay I) on Earth, or even just. Any magic user who isn't a fairy. Just give them another Terrestrial option, options are always good. I think that'd be really neat.
You might sit here and go "The evil wizards are gonna teach the next generation of wizards? Could history not repeat itself??" Well. Yeah. But are the Terrestrial fairies not teaching their next generation now too? The same fairies who canonically turned on humanity at some point? These are all 'what if' scenarios, I'd just like to think that with proper communication this time around, things will be different and both fairy and wizard get to work towards that together. I'm normal and have slept a reasonable amount.
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