#unless they’re recovering from an illness

[silvermoon424]

Twisted Tropes: An Examination of How Magical Girl Tropes are Subverted in Puella Magi Madoka Magica

(this is a long one, clocking in at over 1600 words. Enjoy!)

Madoka Magica has often been called a “deconstruction” of the magical girl genre, and while many fans refute that claim, it’s clear that it at least offers a darker twist on many of the tropes beloved and well-known in the genre. These tropes include the transformation trinket, the cuddly mascot, the monster of the week, magical girls having a secret double life, magical girls themselves being child heroines, and even the concept of why magical girls fight in the first place.

One of the biggest examples of these tropes being twisted is the magical girl transformation trinket, which in this series are Soul Gems. In more conventional magical girl series, transformation items are pretty, flashy items that enable the girl to transform from her civilian form to her magical girl form- and to be frank, serve the double purpose of selling toys and merchandise in the real world.

In PMMM, Soul Gems are beautiful Faberge egg-like items that serve the same purpose. It turns out though, that their name is very literal; they are gems that serve as containers for the magical girl’s soul (or may even be her crystallized soul, it’s not really made clear). Soul Gems are formed when magical girls make a contract with Kyubey and are the source of their powers. Moreover, because her soul has been ripped out of a magical girl’s body, her body cannot function unless her Soul Gem is within a few hundred feet of what is now her soulless husk.

In more traditional magical girl shows, transformation trinkets sometimes get stolen, misplaced, etc with no ill effect for their users except for an inability to transform. In PMMM, this is a literal death sentence unless the Soul Gem can be recovered (as displayed in episode 6, when Madoka tosses away Sayaka’s Soul Gem in an attempt to prevent her and Kyoko from fighting). The consequences of this are actually explored in one of the routes of the Madoka Magica PSP game; Sayaka is separated from her Soul Gem in a Witch’s barrier, and it takes Kyoko days to find it. In that amount of time, her body began to literally rot.

The next concept I want to explore is that of the cuddly mascot. Magical girl mascots are a common feature in many shows, from the Moon Cats in Sailor Moon to Cerberus in Cardcaptor Sakura to the many, many mascots in the Precure franchise. In all of these series, the mascots act as friends and often mentors to their magical girl companions; in most series, they are also responsible for empowering/awakening their magical girls.

In PMMM, Kyubey initially seems to be much the same. He is a cute, cuddly creature who is responsible for creating and guiding magical girls. Pretty soon however, it becomes clear that Kyubey is a sinister figure. His contracts don’t seem very benevolent; they seem exploitative, taking advantage of girls when they’re at their lowest point. And unlike the Senshi in Sailor Moon or the Cures in Precure, it quickly becomes apparent that the magical girls in PMMM are dealing with much higher stakes- at least, when it comes to their own wellbeing.

PMMM almost seems to ask the question: what kind of creature would give superpowers to children and send them to fight monsters that could very easily kill them? Even Kyubey’s appearance is highly implied to be a carefully calculated façade meant to lure teenage girls into a false sense of security and make them feel drawn to him. For example, Kyubey uses this to his advantage when he plays up his helplessness to Madoka in episode 1 when he’s being hunted down by Homura. In reality, the Incubator’s true appearance- as seen in Rebellion- are implied to be mechanical structures with giant eyes in the middle; a very alien appearance suiting their alien origins and psychology.

Speaking of child heroines, PMMM also addresses the magical girl tropes of the child heroine and the double life. In most magical girl shows, being a teenaged (or even child/preteen) magical girl is portrayed as an exciting, glamorous, heroic position. The role of magical girl is often contrasted against the mundane, yet still charming and school and civilian life. Magical girls often work hard to maintain the secret of their alter egos from their (non-magical girl) friends and family, although in some series the secret does come to light. However, the girls are usually able to enjoy a healthy balance between their personas.

In PMMM, magical girls seem more like child soldiers than glamorous heroines. Being young girls and not hardened adults, many magical girls face severe psychological trauma from the life they’re thrust into- much life real-life child soldiers. Most magical girls made their contracts without truly getting to think about their wish or the consequences of being a magical girl for the rest of their lives. And because getting enough Grief Seeds is literally life-or-death, they must spend most of their free time patrolling for Witches.

We get a good look at the toll being a magical girl takes on one’s social life through Mami’s character; supplementary materials reveal that she was once a popular girl who had a lot of friends, but after she was forced to contract in the same accident that killed her parents, she slowly lost all her friends because she had no time to do anything else but train, hunt Witches, fight Witches, etc in her free time. In episode 3, when Madoka talks about how she wants to be a magical girl, Mami outright tells her that the life of a magical girl is a lonely one and Madoka will no longer have time for things like boys or hanging out with her friends after school. Even in Magia Record- an alternate timeline that offers a much more positive look at the PMMM-verse- most magical girls are only friends with each other.

Another major example of a trope being twisted is that of the “monster of the week.” Most magical girl series have the girls fight monsters, and in many of those series the monsters are created from human beings. Sailor Moon and the Precure franchise are two standout examples of this. For example, in the fifth season of the 90s anime adaptation of Sailor Moon, people who don’t have “true” Star Seeds will turn into monsters called Phages if their Star Seeds (ie, souls) are ripped out. A similar phenomenon happens in Heartcatch Precure, with the added bonus of the victim’s consciousness eternally reliving the same state of despair that made them vulnerable in the first place. In all of these series, however, the magical girls are able to heal the victims and restore them to their former selves. Sometimes, if the monster/victim is a loved one or someone else known to them, they can even do a “I know you’re in there somewhere” plea to help them to break free.

PMMM takes the true horror of this concept up to eleven. Moreover, the victims aren’t regular people- they’re the magical girls themselves, and this fate is inevitable. Every magical girl, if she doesn’t die in battle against a Witch, will become a Witch herself who spreads despair and kills innocent people until the day she is put out of her misery by another magical girl. And she will be in misery; the Rebellion movie shows that Witches relive the worst moments of their lives over and over again and are psychologically tortured. A lot of Witches also seem to be in ironic hells. For example, Charlotte can create any dessert she wants except for cheese or cheesecakes, which is her favorite food. Roberta is surrounded by lascivious men (her familiars) who annoy her. And of course, every Witch was once a magical girl who once spread hope and saved people and now does the opposite.

It’s also made abundantly clear that once the Witch transformation happens, it’s over. There’s no saving someone. The only person in canon who is able to actually get results is Madoka- aka an actual goddess with huge karmic potential- and it comes with caveats (in one, later timeline she brings Sayaka back from the dead after she became Oktavia, and in Rebellion she is able to reverse Homura’s transformation into Homulilly- although afterwards Homura still needs to be brought into the Law of Cycles like any other magical girl about to become a Witch). In episode 9, when Kyoko and Madoka try to reach out to Sayaka’s inner self when Kyoko fights Oktavia, it ends in Kyoko’s death because nothing of Sayaka remains.

In most magical girl shows, the monsters of the week are just ineffectual mooks who are fodder for the evil organization opposing the magical girls. But in PMMM, they are mirrors of the magical girls themselves, agents of chaos and despair who present a very real threat to the magical girl’s lives- not to mention the lives of any unfortunate people who stumble across them.

Finally, I want to examine the topic of why magical girls fight in the first place. In most series, there is a group of villains who pose a threat to humanity/the Earth/etc and magical girls must oppose them. There is a very real external threat being faced.

In PMMM however, the beings that empower/perpetuate magical girls and are ultimately the threat are one and the same. Because the tragedy of PMMM is that magical girls are fighting against a self-perpetuating cycle; magical girls form contracts, magical girls become Witches, more magical girls form contracts and fight the Witches, and on and on it goes. Magical girls are their own enemy, in a sense.

I’m sure there are lots of tropes I’m forgetting, but this essay is already over 1,600 words long, lol. I might make a part 2 at some point, so give me your ideas!

#I wrote this while I was stuck at the office this week lmao #it helped keep me sane #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #analysis #my analysis #my writing #anime analysis #tropes #writing tropes #magical girl #magical girls

[duchessofostergotlands]

To be honest I haven't liked the things Catherine has been saying about mental health lately. First that talking therapy doesn't help everyone, now this. For a royal to say a short sentence or two about mental health... it can easily come across the wrong way & doesn't show nuance. Yes, talking therapy doesn't help everyone, but her saying this could discourage people from trying it out. Not everyone who feels anxious has a medical condition and needs medication, but some of us do!

Let's look at what she said (and buckle up, it's a long one):

Quote number 1: At an art therapy charity. Someone said writing music had been an easier way to get their feelings out than talking in a clinical space. Kate responded: "Talking therapies don’t work for some people, they’re not for everybody. It’s so important to have a range of therapies." She then followed it up by talking about how many people won't respond to talking therapies because of their own preconceptions about clinical spaces and so it's important to let those people know that there are safe alternative spaces like this charity where they can come for help in a way that works for them.

Unless you're asserting talking therapy does work for everyone and alternative therapies shouldn't be offered, I can't see what the issue is. It's 100% truthful. An analysis by the Child Outcomes Research Consortium found that only a third of children had recovered (i.e. they were no longer above the clinical threshold) by the end of therapy. About 40% responded they'd experienced no change at all. For adults it's slightly better but NHS Digital report only 50% of adults who access therapy have recovered by the time it's over. That's before we even get into the fact that talking therapies were built by and for predominantly white westerners and so large chunks of the population find them completely unhelpful, even actively damaging. There's an article here on that. So it's accurate to state that they don't work for everyone - for a variety of reasons - and alternatives need to be accessible for those who have reason to not trust professional services, or who had therapy and haven't recovered. In fact, this is a big problem in therapy because people often go into it thinking it'll fix things and then ending treatment without being "cured" is extremely difficult for them. And that issue is caused by precisely this unwillingness from the public and some professionals to be honest and acknowledge that talking therapies won't work for everyone.

Quote number 2: I can't find the full quote but essentially she said that normal anxieties should not be over-medicalised.

I wrote a whole thing about this, read that. I'm going to illustrate with an example from Drag Race. A few years ago there was a contestant who wasn't popular, I can't really remember why, but in their sob story episode they opened up about their clinical depression. And the reaction all over social media was "who cares? Everyone has depression!" But the thing is... they don't. In the US, where it was filmed, 2/3 of people don't have depression in their lifetime. We have created an environment where instead of normalising mental illness so those who have it feel accepted, we've overcorrected. And now it's cool and trendy to make stress into Anxiety Disorder, to making lying into gaslighting, to make your dick of an ex boyfriend's behaviour a Personality Disorder. All of which means that people who genuinely do have mental illnesses are taken less seriously and for conditions like mine (I have BPD) stigma is worse than it's been at any point since I was diagnosed 8 ish years ago. And that's not to mention medications for mental illnesses can be heavy duty. She was at an event for children and it's perfectly reasonable to question whether a doctor giving a child meds after a five minute appointment because the child said they were anxious is a sensible and healthy choice. It's there in the name - over medicalising. It's like any medical procedure. No one is saying you shouldn't cut someone's arm off if they have a serious infection and it's needed. But you shouldn't cut their arm off just because they got a paper cut. PS something slightly outside the scope of this because Kate can't be partisan but we talk about this a lot at work, the link between over-medicalising and poverty. A good article on that here.

I understand what you're saying about the fact that sometimes quotes are clipped out of context and royals need to think about what the headline will be but even taken out of context, all of her statements are accurate. And actually in my view it's the first time I've ever seen her be nuanced! I've always found her mental health work patchy because I feel like she unintentionally contributed to a lot of the issues I've outlined above but she's finally talking about things that are not talked about as much, even amongst professionals. I get your perspective because I was there a few years ago. When someone first mentioned the concept of over-medicalising to me I thought it was denying mental illness is real etc. But then I realised that knee jerk reaction was coming from my insecurities about my illness and my past experiences of struggling to get care, it wasn't actually about the concept itself.

#ask #anon #kate middleton #british royal family #mental health #mental illness #again having bpd is a really helpful diagnosis for this #because there's a huge movement within the bpd community to remove the diagnosis entirely #i don't completely agree but there are lots of people who believe that bpd is largely diagnosed amongst women who have experienced trauma #and so it's medicalising a normal human response to something traumatic

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Title board created by the wonderful @mochie85!

Lesson Eighteen

You are positive Loki has been kidnapped by The Flock, but after they leave their settlement without a trace, there seems to be little hope that you and Brunnhilde will be able to recover him...unless you can put the final piece of your power into place on your own before it's too late.

**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count

“BRUNNHILDE!” you shrieked, rushing down the hill just as the King emerged from her cabin. “Any sign of him?” you called. 

She gritted her teeth at your boisterous approach, shaking her head. “Nothing. Perhaps today the scout we sent west will come back with something,” the King suggested. “I can hardly believe I’m leading a search party for him, let alone actually worrying.”

Gods forbid you have some character development, you thought.

Loki had been missing for five days. The King had sent out several volunteers to search the surrounding towns, and so far, two of them had returned empty, the rest hadn’t returned at all. The others were still spreading out, searching every hill, valley, rock, and ditch. 

The day after you and Loki arrived at your woeful impasse, he was absolutely nowhere. Gone without a trace. No evidence of him leaving for Oslo or anywhere else (he would have certainly left a word or a note!), no signs that he’d had second thoughts about everything and chose to bail without the risk of waiting for the results of the test. 

On day three, one clue emerged, though you wished it hadn’t for fear of what it meant: The Flock’s settlement had been completely abandoned. You and The King spend the entire following day combing the empty tents, cabins, and spaces. It was as if the entire clan had packed up and retreated overnight…as if they had something new and special to conceal from New Asgard.

But Loki was magic, and none of The Flock were. How the hell could they subdue a literal Asgardian God and take him away without a trace? Even with the development, nothing came of the ghost town, and you all decided to continue guiding the search from New Asgard. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been alerted, but due to the terms of Loki’s bargain, they could not interfere in any way. Even Thor was expressly forbidden from aiding the search in person, instead only able to occasionally monitor Norway from the skies in the quinjet whenever he had a pilot. While it wasn’t much, Thor, of course, was just as worried as you were, and he tried to pull every string he could with Fury, but to minimal avail.

Loki was on his own, wherever he was. 

“I did this,” you moaned, nearly collapsing at Brunnhilde’s feet, exhausted and heaving your breaths. It was bad enough you were exerting yourself so, but you had barely slept since Loki disappeared. Your powers were quickly losing stability again. “He could be long dead and it’s all my fault.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You know they’re trying to draw me out. This is all about me,” you grunted, turning your head over your shoulder, as if looking again would yield results this time. “I think we should go back to the settlement.” 

Your trainer shook her head. “Do you remember that Asgardians are significantly harder to kill than humans? You really think those inbreds could execute him so easily?”

“They sure kidnapped him without much trouble.” 

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. “Look, Y/N, there’s nothing more we can do until the last scouts return anyway, so why--”

“--because I can’t do this without him!” you threw up your hands, showing Brunnhilde that your fog was acting so peculiarly, it was beginning to change colors as it flickered less like mist and rolled more like a thunderhead across your palm. “It’s happening again!” 

The King shook her head. “Stop being a damsel, Y/N! It’s not him that controls your power, it’s you. It always has been! You just need to suck it up and stabilize yourself or Loki won’t have a snowball’s chance in Niflheim.” 

You shook your head, bouncing uncomfortably on your ankles like an anxious child. “Look, not everyone has to be Captain Marvel smashing through the glass ceiling,” you sniped. “Loki is the one who taught me everything I know about my magic and how to use it! I have to have him here.”

The King shook her head, taking your hands in hers despite the clouds of death waiting there for her. She did not fall over. 

“Does every student cling to their teacher forever?” asked Brunnhilde. “Thank fucking Norns they don’t, let me tell you. I’d have gone bloody mad by now.”

Your thoughts went back to your conversation that night with Loki. Were you becoming too dependent on him? Were you letting your love for him cloud your higher judgment? The entire year was nearly over. The eleventh hour was nigh. Loki was likely trapped in Jonah’s basement somewhere (wherever that was) being tormented in order to lure you into his trap. 

“Look,” she continued after observing you for a moment. “If I take you back to the settlement and show you that we’ve combed the entire village, will you at least take a breath?”

You nodded, but paused after, another thought coming to you (perhaps not a thought so much as a pull or an urge). 

“No,” you countered. “Not the settlement. I want to go to their cemetery instead.” 

You and Brunnhilde reached the top of the hill that The Flock’s burial ground was built into later that afternoon, a chilly wind just beginning to come in with the earlier dusk. In the daylight, the place somehow looked even creepier. The wrought-iron fence and gate looked even more broken and twisted. The lone tree in the yard that you and Loki had once sat beneath, kissing underneath the stars, looked as if it was no longer alive at all, and was merely a standing pile of dead wood waiting for decay to topple it. 

Once you’d stepped through the gate, the voices started all but yelling into your ear, telling you to go up the hill as you’d suspected, to where the crypt bearing the name ‘Jonah’ stood. 

You smiled and turned to The King as she followed you up the hill, looking annoyed more than anything. “They’re talking.”

“Good. Yeah. Great. Talk back so we can get out of here, please,” Brunnhilde mumbled back, clearly uncomfortable. 

The crypt still gave you uneasy vibes as you placed a palm against the etching that labeled the marble boxes within. You braced yourself for noise, for loud voices crowing your mind all at once. 

You didn’t expect yourself to travel to another place entirely. 

Instantly, your senses took you away from the cemetery and to a dark, nearly-black room you’d never seen before. The Jonah you knew, perhaps about seven or eight years younger, was kneeling before a hospital bed containing an older man. Other strange, worthless details painted the picture for you: a dusty desk with loose papers and devotionals scattered about, a photograph of a little blonde boy, an ashtray overflowing with butts and ends of smoked cigarettes…

“Bjorn,” the older man mumbled, “the Shepherd calls me.”

“Father…” mumbled the kneeling boy. 

“You know what you must do,” said the dying one. “What my visions brought me.”

“Y…yes…” said the teenager, clearly doing his best to hide his distress. “The demons will come from the sky disguised as refugees during the Time of New Magic. But I’m only nineteen…”

“If it isn’t you, then The Flock will fall apart, and the demons will win.”

“Oh, but Jonah…”

You bit your lip, understanding coming to you. 

“No, you are Jonah now. Blessed be The Shepherd.” 

Something else materialized before you as the boy began to murmur a prayer. A window appeared above the bed, and just outside the glass was a street sign, reading ‘1800 S Akersgata.’ 

You muttered the words out loud. “Eighteen-hundred south Ahkers-gata…”

“What was that?” Brunnhilde’s voice called out to you, jerking you out of the vision and back to the crypt. “You just said something but you looked like you were…I don’t know…spacing out?”

You repeated yourself. “Eighteen-hundred south Ahkers-gata…I think it’s an address.”

“Where?” The King shrugged as you placed your palm on the crypt again, this time nothing appearing at all. 

OSLO, came the old man’s voice directly into your ear. 

“I don’t…wait, yes…Oslo,” you said. It was as if someone was cracking the code to a safe, and the safe was your brain. Little pieces were coming into place, giving you the piece you needed to find Loki. At the same time, your death magic pulsed at your fingertips in pure black waves as it read the marble’s history to you, and you almost felt the urge to cry.

“Odd, it’s as if the last Jonah is the one telling me this,” you said quietly, describing verbally how you felt. “I feel…remorse coming from this tomb.” 

“I get the feeling. Can we go now?” asked Brunnhilde, not even waiting for your response before turning away. 

“Wait!” you called, scrambling to follow. “We have to find him! If that’s where The Flock is now, and that’s where Loki is, we can’t just sit here!” 

The King rolled her eyes as she bolted out of the gate, thankful to be off of cursed ground. “Who said we weren’t going to rescue him? I may think Loki is a snake, and don’t think I’ll ever change my mind on that, by the way,” she insisted. 

You shook your head as you followed her back into the woods and down the path toward New Asgard. “I never asked you to.” 

“But,” she continued, “not even making an attempt at saving any of the few Asgardians there are left in the universe, snake or not…wouldn’t make me a very good King would it?” 

You smiled. “No, not at all.” 

“I’ll go around and ask for volunteers,” said The King. “Or, rather, blackmail and guilt, whatever suits my fancy.” 

“I’ll meet you tonight,” you agreed. “I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded that time is of the essence!” 

Upon returning to the village, you went your separate ways to make your preparations for the raid. As you did some drills with your knives on your own, awaiting word from Brunnhilde that the assembly was complete, you sighed, knowing what you had to do…or rather, had to avoid doing. 

The Jonah before Bjorn, the one who died before you and sent you the vision, knew the truth, and wanted you to spare his descendants from his fate. He wanted you to deliver the message to Bjorn, his son, and his family, personally. 

You couldn’t do that by killing anyone, or running in with daggers flying. But what if they intended to kill you or Loki? They’d certainly made that clear in the past. 

How does the harbinger of death itself offer an olive branch without making it wither in her grasp? 

“Blackmail and guilt, you say?” you asked, your lip twisted up skeptically. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm.”

The King stood pouting before you, absolutely no one behind her. “I told them I’d cancel Christmas! What more do you want from me?” 

You mumbled sarcastically, “Clearly it is better to be feared than loved.”

Brunnhilde shrugged. “Anyway, sorry. I know this doesn’t help.”

You sighed. “Are you going to bail?”

The King shook her head almost immediately. “What kind of Valkyrie would I be if I did? The girls would kill me a second time when I got to Valhalla.” 

“Well,” you said quietly, a smile unfurling, “when this is all over, it’ll be the first story we tell our students, won’t it?” 

Brunnhilde smiled. “Is this a bribe?”

“No, just accepting your offer,” you replied. “Although, your added support at this time to your future business partner would be much appreciated.” 

You spent an hour planning with the King. With only the two of you, it would have to be a matter of threatening or bluffing Jonah, or perhaps just wriggling Loki free enough for him to escape with his magic. 

You had no access to a motor vehicle, so unfortunately, you had to pack for a thirty-six hour hike inland toward the capitol. You didn;t want to have a heavy load to bear the whole way, so you only stuffed one change of clothes and a bag of trail mix you’d found in one of the cabinets in your backpack. 

That night, just after sunset, Katja met you on the porch as you slipped out to meet the King and begin your rescue. She held a bundle of cloth in her hand. 

“This was Ivar’s. I hope it won’t be too large for you,” she said, throwing the cloth over your head rather abruptly. Your head naturally found the hold in the middle, and as you peeked through, you realized that Katja had just given you a drape for the chilly air.

Luckily, Ivar’s old age had shrunken him from his prime, so the poncho was only a little large on you. It felt like a big, cozy blanket of wool. 

“Do you need supplies? Water? Food?”

You shook your head. “We’re well-prepared, but thank you.” 

“Blessings and fortune,” Katja said, hugging you close. “Please be safe.” 

“Thank you for everything,” you said, kissing Katja on both cheeks. 

She sighed and looked you over once more, like a mother making sure her child had everything she needed for school. “I know you believe death is a terrible power to possess, but just remember, Y/N: without death there can be no life at all. Darkness is as important to the balance of the cosmos as light.” 

“I know--”

“--but, if you ever need to find the light again, look no deeper than here,” Katja continued, placing her palm on your heart. “You were able to find a hint of love in the midst of your darkness. That power is even greater than death. Love will always be the strongest magic you’ll find.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you threw yourself into a hug.

After a long, tender moment, Katja pulled away with a scowl. “Very well, very well. Now go, Y/N! You have no time to lose!” 

You leapt off the porch and made your way to the western path, where your traveling companion was impatiently tapping her foot and nursing a liquid from her canteen that almost certainly wasn’t water.

“Now, you sure you don't want to kill him?” Brunnhilde asked as you began your long, two-day walk toward Oslo. “He may just keep coming back until they kill you both.”

“We’ll be ready for them,” you promised. “Besides, Loki wants out of here as soon as we’re free. They won’t find him here again.” 

Brunnhilde snorted. “He spends ten months unsure of whether or not he loves you, and as soon as he says it, he decides to leave you behind? Now THAT’S the Loki I know and loathe.” 

“You don’t understand,” you said quietly. “I can’t exactly keep him here, you know?”

“Well, that’s how it happens,” said Brunnhilde with bitter pessimism. “You’ll get over it.” 

“No,” you muttered below earshot, “I don't think so.” 

Camping was never your strong suit, but at least your cooking skills made it easy to whip up an improvised breakfast after a long, awkwardly-quiet night of walking. You’d packed some bread, which you toasted over a small fire Brunnhilde built, and used a piece of slate as a skillet to fry some mushrooms after you found some just off the trail that you recognized as edible. 

“If we keep eating like this, I’ll be ten pounds heavier by the time we reach the city,” Brunnhilde said with sarcasm. “I don't see why you like him, but I can guess at least one reason why he likes you.” 

“I can teach you how to cook and bake, if you want,” you suggested. “It’s a little more work, but a lot better than drinking your supper,” you said, emphasizing the last phrase as the King went to tip the canteen of whiskey to her lips. 

You moved on throughout the day, but even the King’s feet were getting stiff and sore by the time late afternoon rolled around, the sun already nearly set by 5pm. You reached the edge of the woods, where you stepped out onto the apex of a large hill that overlooked a valley several miles around. Against the darkening sky, the glowing city of Oslo sat along the horizon, waiting for you, daring you to invade. It looked like the Emerald City: a beacon of both promise and mystery. 

“Let’s stop and eat again, and I’d like to sleep for a few hours,” she said. “Oslo won’t move away from us before morning.”

You growled, impatient and tired from the day’s exertions. “They could kill Loki by then.”

“Sweetheart, if they took him just to execute him as a message, they would have done so and delivered the body by then. He’s being held as bait for you,” she said with confidence. “Believe me, they are waiting for you.”

“But they could be torturing him!”

“Do you really want to go in there with your blades flying now, when you’re exhausted and hungry?! Rule Number One of Battle, Y/N, NEVER go in without a clear mind and a strategy!”  her voice quickly resorted to an authoritarian, drill-sergeant's bark, and it made you cringe with surprise. 

You hissed back, “Look who’s talking!” You indicated the flask in Brunnhilde’s hand. 

“Let’s not go there. I just want some more of those mushrooms you picked.” 

You were able to set a fire and cook the small reserves you’d brought along by the city’s light pollution that reached you from the skies. Afterwards, you decided that fighting Brunnhilde on the issue of sleep was useless and would only further deplete your limited energy, so you agreed to keep watch knowing you couldn;t sleep, in case some Flock members were keeping vigil for you outside the city limits. 

“Are we really going to wait until morning?” you asked as your traveling partner leaned against a stone. 

“If you’re really going to stay awake, watch Oslo and wait until the city gets dimmer, perhaps three in the morning. They may have fewer people on watch at that time.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” you remarked. 

Brunnhilde yawned. “Like I said…clear mind..strategy…”

She passed out before she could finish her sentence properly, leaving you to spend the following hours watching the stars turn above your head and the flickering lights of Oslo before you, hoping to the skies that in spite of the odds, Loki would be in your arms again by dawn.

Sorry this is a bit more of a filler chapter, but the big rescue mission is coming up! Please reblog and comment if you like!

@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @admiralatthebowofnails @vanilla-daydreaming @technicallysassyfox @ozymdias @fall-myriad @sititran @lokisdeadcat @blog-the-lilly @satrkovaza @wolfcyanide

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki smut #smut #fanfic #fanfic smut #loki angst #loki fluff #death #love #mcu smut #mcu angst #romance

[pix3lplays]

this is from an old eaten req

but chronically Ill! Dan Heng x Intern! Reader

(so they’re both like college age)

Just some first meet head canons and other fluffy caring stuff

Thx! 💙💙💙

Okay, interesting! Lemme try!

Tw! Chronic illness

-chronically ill Dan Heng x intern!reader-

Ok ok!

So the two of you meet at a hospital, you working as an intern, when you meet Dan Heng, one of the patients you were assigned to.

He was unique.

Very quiet, kept to his books, rarely spoke to you.

Unless he was asking you to open the window.

This was your routine.

You’d come, take care of him as needed, and he would always ask you to open the window in the morning.

After all, it was his only way to see the outside world.

After a while, once you’ve gotten close enough, he has an episode where his chronic illness is flaring up really badly, to the point where he can’t even read his books.

So he asks you to read for him.

You read aloud by his bedside, and he lays in bed, just…watching you and listening.

Then THIS became your routine, even once he recovers enough to read on his own.

He’ll ask you to read to him.

He prefers it when you read his books…

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dan Heng #Dan Heng x reader #hsr Dan Heng x reader #honkai star rail Dan Heng x reader

[cakeboxie]

Our own starlight

A SFW Modern AU Halsin x Tav/Reader ficlet

“What’s something small you miss? From living in the forest I mean.”

“Starlight. It was one of the first things that really threw me off about this… place. Night is unbearably dark, yet somehow unpleasantly bright at the same time.”

TWs: Family death, grief, spoilers abt Halsins backstory.

Reader is gn and undefined besides working in a greenhouse.

AN: waugh this is just kinda word vomit following me having a really good idea. It’s entirely unedited so if you see any errors no you don’t <3

Also I am fighting for my life trying to find a voice for halsin bear with me please.

Halsin remembers being a kid in the cabin his family lived in. His mother teaching him how to cook alongside his younger siblings.

He too remembers sitting outside with his father, the chill of fall nipping at his face while he was taught how to pick good sticks for firewood; along with the promise that next year he’d be old enough to help split up logs with his father.

He remembers a thick book shared between him and his eldest sister while she taught him Druidic magic, and the terror on his mothers face when he gave himself fuzzy little bear ears (and his sister laughing because couldn’t figure out how to get rid of them.)

He remembers being sick, just a little sick. A stuffy nose and a sore throat he caught from falling into the stream in late November when the frost set into snow.

He remembers burying them all that spring.

He didn’t want to, but he knew that disease clings to corpses long after the flesh chilled. He thanked Silvanus that the illness came in December and not one of the warm months that would’ve forced him to bury them immediately lest he meet the same fate.

He remembers the following winter being warmer than usual, but little else of the year.

Halsin knows now that he had gotten lucky, unbelievably so. The gentle winter allowed him to live despite being unwilling to split his own firewood, it allowed him one year to prepare himself before he was truly forced to acknowledge the finality of it all.

He remembers finding his balance the following year. Their garden took quite of bit of work to recover after being abandoned for a year. But he managed it, along with making himself some traps based on some diagrams in an old book and the odds and ends he remembered learning about how to make them more effective from his mother.

“So… why are you here?”

They look up at him, visibly confused.

“Not that I don’t like talking to you- but it seems like you were managing fine past the first year.”

“The expansion of the city drove the animals away. Then men in suits appeared at my door asking for documents I didn’t have. Proof of ownership and deeds to the land our cabin was on. They threatened to arrest me for squatting if I didn’t leave.”

He sips his tea, it was brewed far too hot. Leaving it bitter even with sugar, but it was something he could afford, which seemed few and far between lately.

“I only recently learned what squatting actually is. They’d looked at me like I was a fool for asking”

“That’s… Gods I’m sorry. I can’t even fathom how shit that must’ve felt, I’ve always lived in the city so…”

“It isn’t all awful; being in the city. Living is a much more manageable kind of tiring.”

He was lucky to be as strong as he is, he’d manage to land a job as an unskilled labourer. As much as he resented the title he knew it wasn’t a slight, he didn’t have any of the certifications or diplomas required to hold any other station at the greenhouse he worked in. Even if he knew more about many of the plants they grew from his own personal experience working with them.

One thing of many he’d yet to get used to. Your experience doesn’t matter in the city unless you have a piece of paper proving it.

“That’s fair I suppose… I would give damn near anything to be able to be self-sufficient like that… Alas I’m doomed to forever be a slave to capitalism.”

Halsin wants to tell them that they’re not.

He wants to say that if enough people stopped thinking that they don’t have the option to rebel the entire system would fall apart.

He bites his tongue, figuratively and literally. Wincing as the sharp taste of iron settles in his mouth.

Well, it’s not like his tea could’ve gotten much worse.

“What’s something small you miss? From living in the forest I mean.”

“Starlight. It was one of the first things that really threw me off about this place. Night is unbearably dark, yet somehow unpleasantly bright at the same time.”

They nod, and ponder their tea for a beat.

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

“How forward.”

They scoff, but it lacks venom.

“Just answer me you dork.”

“No I do not.”

Their smile widens considerably.

“You do now, assuming you don’t mind coming over to my apartment.”

He nods in agreement, and they beam.

Another thing that’s definitely not awful about living in the city is them. He had met them through the greenhouse they both worked at, and had kept contact after they had quit.

The afternoon passes by as it usually does during their little dates. They would talk about their job and their cats, he would reply in kind. His tea went cold long before he finished it, and he’d thank the barista as he handed their mugs across the counter.

The walk to their apartment was nice. He realized as they spoke about the bus they missed how much he missed not being alone.

It was a long walk, he silently thanked Silvanus.

Their apartment was almost identical to his on the outside. Grey building, black doors, painfully sterile.

The inside however, was not. Almost every flat surface was plastered with posters and prints, the shelves full of knickknacks and candles more so than actual books.

“Okay so, I don’t have a couch obviously because I have a studio apartment but my bed doesn’t have the best view of the thing I want to show you.”

They push some things haphazardly out of the center of the room, before pulling a blanket off their bed and laying it out.

“Gods this is so sketchy I’m so sorry- Lay on this and close your eyes.”

“It’s alright. I trust you.”

The blanket is soft, but thin. The linoleum below digging into his shoulders as he lays down. There’s a soft click and the lights turn off, they settle beside him after a moment.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

It takes him a second to put together what he’s looking at.

Stars. Painted on the walls and ceiling between the posters and tapestries, glowing in the dark of their apartment.

“It’s obviously not as pretty as real stars but… I dunno I’ve never been far enough out of town to see many real ones so I made my own starlight.

“It’s beautiful.”

He doesn’t need to be able to see them to know they’re smiling.

© cakeboxie •• 2023 •• Please do not translate/repost. reblogs are appreciated and requests are open!

Part of the @eveningatthrmoviesnetwork

~~

Taglist: @yarnnerdally • @starrry-angel • @yuelqnn • @yeonpm • @beardedladyqueen

Wanna be added? Send me an ask off anon and lmk if you want to be on the sfw only list!

#cakewrites #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav

[furiousgoldfish]

What not to do when trying to support a traumatized or mentally ill person:

Don't assume they've done something wrong for this to happen to them.

Don't try to tell them they've done something wrong to deserve this.

Don't assume this couldn't happen to you. It could.

Don't attempt to apply stereotypes to their situation. It's likely you don't know exactly what's going on with them, unless they've told you.

Don't assume you know better/understand better about this than they do. They've been struggling with this for a while. They're intimately familiar with it.

Don't give them unwanted advice. If they ask you for advice, then you can advise them, but continuous unprompted 'why don't you do x and y' is not going to help.

Don't minimize their problem. Don't tell them they're being lazy/childish/unreasonable for having symptoms, being tired, being unwilling to do certain activities. They don't deserve to be told their struggles are nothing. Nobody deserves that.

Don't say 'I just would do x'. You don't know what you would do. You're not them. X might not even have been an option in their situation.

Don't compare their struggles with someone else's, either to make them feel like "it could have been worse", or to say "it's the worst". These things do not need to be compared, and we're not in a competition of who has it worse. Everyone's struggle deserves support and attempts to make it easier on the person.

Don't try to compete with them. If you want to share your struggles with them, it's possible to do it in a respectful way, without ever one-upping or implying that you're the one who has it worse. We are not in a competition.

Don't try to change how they behave. If a traumatized person is showing a certain behaviour, it's often the best they can do at the moment, and they do not need to be shamed or pressured to change for someone. If the behaviour is harmful, it's okay to pull yourself back to safety.

Don't think you can 'save' them. Don't try to build yourself up in their eyes as 'the only one who understands' or as 'someone who can fix it all', because you can't. And they're not here to support your personal 'hero fantasy', or to act the part of someone who's being 'saved', for the sake of your ego.

Don't ignore their boundaries, even if you feel they're unreasonable. Traumatized and mentally ill people get to build their boundaries any way they feel comfortable with, and nobody gets to judge it. Do not tell them it's unreasonable. Do not try to argue them down.

Don't assume they're able to completely heal from this. Sometimes they won't, and it can hurt to see that expectation put on them.

Don't experiment on them. Don't try to trigger them, thinking you can fix the trauma once it comes up. Don't change up your behaviour just to see how they'll react to it. Don't play the devil's advocate just to upset them and to see them react emotionally. These people's struggles are not your entertainment. They're not here to be your test subjects.

Don't drain them. Even if someone traumatized gives you their attention and care, don't ever forget that they need this energy for themselves as well.

Don't judge them for the things you don't understand. If they're doing something harmful to themselves, or engaging in activities that in long term bring damage to their body, it's very likely they're already judging themselves for it, or feeling guilty. Shame will not motivate them to stop. Judgment will only leave them feeling alone and helpless.

Don't give them a time frame in which they're supposed to get 'better' or they'll be considered failures in your eyes. Not only it's impossible to recover with any kind of deadline, but you don't get to call them failures. Nobody is a failure for doing things in their own time, in their own way.

Don’t try to indoctrinate them into your religion, or insist that the religion will help them out of this. It’s opportunist, predatory, and insulting. If they wanted to reach to religion for help, they would not be waiting around for you to tell them. Religion might be the part of why they’re traumatized.

What to do when you're attempting to support a traumatized, or a mentally ill person:

Be patient with them.

Ask them if they want to talk about it. Should you get a 'no' as an answer, respect it.

If they do feel safe talking to you about it, believe them.

If their story is scaring you, or making you want to yell at them, try not to yell. It's okay to feel concern, but if your first reaction is yelling, or a big emotional outburst, they might assume that their reality is too upsetting, and never talk about it again. They also might feel that it was a mistake opening up to you.

Stay calm and accept that whatever is happening, was likely happening for a while, and you're being trusted with it as a safe person. Be worthy of the trust.

Acknowledge where they've been in a tough situation. It's possible they're not realizing just how bad their situation is, or how hard they've struggled. Remind them that they've been enduring a lot of heavy stuff, that the burden on them is big, and that it's okay that they're tired from carrying it. Acknowledgment can mean a lot to traumatized people.

Be consistent. Make sure they know what to expect from you. Traumatized people need stability, continuity, consistency and the ability to rely that people will treat them consistently with kindness.

Point out to them when something they're going thru is not normal. A lot of traumatized people have learned to accept painful and terrifying situations as normal. It's good to give them a reference so they would know their situation is extreme or considered to be traumatic.

Point out that their feelings are normal. Often, traumatized people will judge their own feelings to be wrong, or worry that they're feeling too much, or being unreasonable. It can mean a lot to have their own feelings acknowledged and accepted.

Make sure they know they're valuable and welcome in your life, regardless of their struggles. They might worry that their value in other people's eyes is dropping, due to them being often tired, isolated or unwell.

Get excited for them when things go well, when something good happens, when they're happy. It's probable that they don't get many joys, and having someone happy for them might mean a lot.

If you want to do something specific for them, ask them if they're comfortable with it. Don't put pressure on them, and don't ask them to put up with things they're uncomfortable with. It's always good to ask if something is a good idea or not.

Treat them as you would treat someone who is doing the best they can, who you're pleased with, who has deserved a rest from pain and a refuge to feel safe in. Let them know that you don't think they should be put thru any more hardships.

Let them know you have faith in them, in their choices and their instincts.

If they seek support from you, give only as much as you feel comfortable with. It's okay to make boundaries here, and to give yourself space if you feel like the problem is bigger than what you can handle. You do not need to put your own emotional health on hold, in order to help. Most traumatized people would be mortified to know they've caused damage to someone else, and it's okay to make sure you're feeling safe and comfortable as well.

#cptsd #trauma support #supporting the traumatized #what to do #mental illnesses

[alectology-archive]

while it’s important that rj understood how prolonged exposure to trauma would mess with you psychologically on various axes - mental, emotional, spiritual, physical - it’s also very significant that he put in the work to question and explore how people could go about healing and recovering from their experiences with a realistic attitude.

sometimes they don’t heal - they don’t understand that they need healing, dismiss their instincts, or manage to bury all the complicated emotions they’re feeling. it’s seen when mat suffers from a severe case of survivor’s guilt whenever he survives a battle, and this is observed more obviously when he escapes from ebou dar without managing to save all the windfinders; he also doesn’t have the vocabulary to express why the abuse he suffers at tylin’s hands feels wrong, and his cultural background and his tendency to lie to himself prevents him from examining why this is the case. rand is simply incapable of dealing with the sheer physical, mental and emotional stress he’s subjected to without a support system to back him up - support that he’s specifically unwilling to ask for because he doesn’t want to be put in a position of vulnerability just like mat and has a very unique relationship with the level of autonomy he’s afforded and the abuse he may be subjected to as a result of his madness - and resorts to unhealthy coping mechanisms and internalises traits that also serve as an allegory for ideologies that toxic masculinity directly feeds off of; he reacts to aes sedai very badly although he eventually unlearns that instinct; he’s extremely suicidal, and lews therin works as an indirect metaphor for depression. egwene feels the need to be in a position of power whenever approaching a certain relationship (be it romantic, platonic or otherwise) after her time as a damane, and is often uncomfortable with setting down her guard unless she trusts the people she’s working with; rj has a very complicated track with his depiction of corporal punishment but he also touches on how it enables people in power to take advantage of it to abuse the people under their control through egwene’s arc. rand specifically laments how the sort of stigma and alienation that male channelers face will never really go away because of the fear ingrained into popular belief, and that’s also a very accurate depiction of how certain mental illnesses are received by society.

but rj puts in the extra work to explore how people who have access to support systems and are on the receiving end of patience and compassion are able to get on the path to recovery. he has nynaeve & co deal with the problem of deprogramming egeanin, the sul’dam and damane who’re thoroughly brainwashed by the seanchan. juilin is able to help amathera recover by being very sympathetic to her situation and protecting her from difficult situations that could trigger her ptsd. rj specifically spends a significant amount of time letting joline, teslyn and edesina slowly encourage the seanchan channelers to entertain the idea of their ability not being a curse and to even train to control it at the white tower. the maidens are able to get a read on rand’s discomfort with the dark and small spaces post dumai’s wells and are kind enough to always leave a light on in the dark for him; they also push rand to take his meals and care for himself. the asha’man are explicitly recognised as a group which needs to unlearn some of the toxic ideas encoded in the founding principles that rand introduced. rand himself is recognised to be in dire need of help again in the latter half of the series, although we never got to see the culmination of that arc, unfortunately* - but I have a theory that his arc as a hero is tied very closely to his ability to recover from the various traumas he’s subjected to.

wheel of time takes a very realistic stance on mental health and ptsd. more significantly, it recognises that trauma might not necessarily bring about a positive transformation in a person. and that’s okay.

*cadsuane’s arrival is the only one I can’t get a clear read on, and feels so obviously doomed to disaster from the very beginning given how her personality clashes with rand’s and with her introduction with the intent of controlling rand and never respecting his opinions or autonomy - but given how she’s criticised by the narrative, I’m inclined to believe that min’s reading might have potentially been fulfilled in a bittersweet way as her readings often are. if rand learned how to embrace his humanity again, I can’t imagine that she would have ever had a part to play in it that involved compassion or understanding.

#he wasn't traumatising rand for the shits and giggles I would've loved to see where he would have gone with him though I have my own theory #I’ll save that for the super long rand post though… if I ever fucking finish it #text #HE least of all people would’ve kept pushing the trauma button without intent and just for the sake of Angst. unlike a lot of other authors #I have no idea what he was doing with perrin though lol it has to be said… he really is the weakest point in the series #I know people enjoyed dragonmount and sanderson’s take on how rand and egwene suffered trauma to eventually become Stronger #but that’s absolutely not a realistic depiction and it doesn’t work for me sorry to say. #I also Do Not Get dragonmount at all. it’s like if you pulled a rhetoric about love and living out of your ass when rand is suffering in #THIS life and THIS context… he walked in with some new character conflicts & adressed THEM instead of what rj had already written for rand. #wheel of time #wot book spoilers #rand al’thor

[somber-sapphic]

Prompt List

Just as the title says, a list of prompts! Have fun!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caretaker Sentence Starters:

1. “Oookay, you sure are delirious.” 

2. “Just can’t shake that cough, huh?” 

3. “Your complexion is scaring me, please sit down.” 

4. “You’ve kept that cough through two colds and it sounds like you’re on your third.” 

5. “Did you hide the thermometer from me?” 

6. “How much medicine did you take?” 

7. “You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that.” 

8. “When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the damn plague!” 

9. “Mm…I don’t think it’s just the sniffles this time honey.” 

10. “Please stop wasting what's left of your voice on complaints about soup you can’t even taste.”

11. “I can tell you’re sicker than you’re letting on.”

12. “This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in bed, why the hell do you want to lie on the floor so badly?” 

13. “I know you’re cold, but that blanket is gross now, you need a clean one, okay?” 

14. “Hey, it’s just a dream, wake up.” 

14. “You’re alright.”

16. “Are you okay?”

17. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here.” 

18. “Go back to sleep darling.”

19. “How can I help?”

20. “You’re not up to this, you can barely stand!” 

21. “Go back to bed before you hurt yourself.” 

22. “Oh, you sound way worse than you did yesterday. What happened?” 

23. “You’ve gotta calm down for me, I can’t help unless you calm down.”

24. “Is the fever getting to you?” 

25. “Still don’t feel up to eating?” 

26. “I give you credit for lasting as long as you did, you were cooking in your own skin.”

27. “When was the last time you checked your temperature?” 

28. “Are you feeling any better?” 

29. “You really don’t look good…”

30. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

31. “You’ve been sick for how long? And you didn’t say anything because…?”

32. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

33. “I made you some tea, you need to stay hydrated.”

34. “I know you don’t feel well, but you have to eat – just something light.” 

35. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this sick.”

36. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

37. “You really, really need to get some rest.”

38. “Your voice sounds like rocks scraping against sandpaper.” 

39. “You look like death warmed over.” 

Sickie Types (optional, but fun!!) 

99.9% Immunity - they never get sick, right? Wrong. 

Elephant in the Room - they’re sick, but for some reason, perhaps rank or personality, no one is talking about it. Until it gets bad.

Heroes Don’t Take Sick Days - there’s no time to rest when you have to save the world, so sickie has to push themselves even when miserable. 

Insult to Injury - as if being injured wasn’t enough, now they’re getting sick too. 

Ill Timed - it is the worst possible time for them to be sick, but their body didn’t get the memo. 

Irreplaceable - they are the leader or the boss and aren’t able to take personal time off, even when they’re sick.

It’s Nothing - they insist they’re fine, right up until they collapse. 

Medic Down - How do the other characters handle it when their usual caretaker is sick?

Milking It - if they’re sick, they’re at least going to get as much pampering out of it as they can. 

Not a Word - sickie said they don’t get sick and isn’t in the mood for anyone to remind them while they recover. 

Stepping Up - boss/leader is clearly miserable, so the others go out of their way to take as much of their workload as possible. 

Suffer in Silence - for whatever reason, they don’t want anyone to know they’re sick and do everything they can to hide it.

Team Mom/Dad - the typical team Mom/Dad gets sick, leaving the others to scramble to take care of them.

Sickie Scenarios:

🥀Feeling so out of it, they need constant attention.

🌹Barefoot sleeping wanderings. 

🪷Being let back to bed with patient whispers. 

🌷Collapsing into someone’s waiting arms. 

🌻Forehead kisses

🌼Being picked up 

🌸Being called things like baby, sweetheart or honey

🌺Shaky hands

💐 Waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared

🌾Comfort after a nightmare

🪴Medicine

🍀Nap

☘️Hand holding 

🌿Lullaby

🌴Reaching out for someone 

🌳Bath

🐍Thermometer

🌵Fingers running through sweaty hair

Sickie Sentence Starters (hehe, alliteration) 

1A“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold.”

2A“I didn’t think it’d get this bad…”

3A“Shit. Did I wake you up?”

4A“It all hurts . . . so much. I just want it to be over already.”

5A“Why should you care?”

6A“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

7A“Hold my hand, please?” 

8A“Relax, it’s just a cold.”

9A“Leave me alone.”

10A“Honestly, I’m fine.”

11A“I…I really don’t feel well.”

12A“Will you just hold me?”

13A“I wanna go home.”

14A“It’s a cough.”

15A“I am not taking my temperature.”

16A“My head hurts.”

17A“My throat just hurts too much.”

18A“Can I have some water? Please?”

19A“Can we cuddle?” 

20A“m’ sleepy.” 

21A“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

22A“Look, you worry about you, I’ll worry about me.”

23A“My god, you’re pushy.”

24A“Thank you. I’m sorry for being sick.”

25A“I don’t take medicine.”

26A“I’m NOT sick.”

#prompt list #sickfic prompts #caretaker prompts

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Memoriam: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Spencer is investigating the death of his “imaginary friend” that’s not so imaginary. On the other hand, you’re finding out more about your family than you thought you knew. Why are you now getting the ick when you never had this before? What does it all mean?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

"Well, I'm always happy to assist the FBI. Is there a witness you want me to look at?"

"Yeah. Me. I'm trying to recover memories from my childhood. There was a murder."

"How long ago are we talking about?"

"I was four."

"Memories from that age can be difficult to interpret," Jan sighs.

"I'm aware of the limitations of hypnotherapy."

"Then you're aware of suggestion issues. If you've looked into this case, you may have a bias."

"Are you saying what he remembers under hypnosis may not be real?" you ask.

"It's a possibility. Either way, it's a tough sell in court."

"We won't be using this for evidentiary purposes. It's really just for me. The suppressed memories are about my father."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to be here to watch."

"You want to sit in? I don't normally allow that."

"I want her here, please."

"You won't even know I'm here."

Jan brings you and Spencer to a better room for this kind of thing. Spencer lies down on the couch, and you sit on the single sofa away from them to give them space.

"I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand, and if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Spencer looks over at you to make sure you're still there, and you give him a small smile to let him know he is going to be okay. Spencer rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes to focus on Jan's voice.

"Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing."

"He's coming in."

"Who?"

"My dad."

"What about him, Spencer? What is he doing?"

"I don't want to be here," he says fearfully.

Spencer's fear is enough to roll over to you, and you grip the edges of the armrests. Tears pool in your eyes, but you have to tell yourself this isn't your fear. Spencer is hurting, and you can't do anything but sit back and watch.

"It's okay, Spencer. Take us to where the light is, to the next morning. The sun is coming up. Where are you, Spencer?"

"Mom? My mom. She's at the window. She's thinking. She's been crying. She saw him."

"Who? Your father? Do you talk to her?"

"No. No, I wanna--I wanna see..."

Spencer squeezes her arm tightly, signaling that he doesn't want to do this anymore. He is full-on panicking right now, and you need this to end.

"What is it, Spencer? What are you seeing?"

"No, you need to stop this. Please," you beg and rush over to Spencer. "He doesn't want to do this anymore!"

"I need you to leave this location now, Spencer."

"Wake him up!"

"I'm going to count backward from five. Five, four, three, two, one, and wake."

Spencer jerks awake, and you put a hand on his forehead to let him know you're here. He is this close to crying, and it breaks your heart into two.

"Spencer, baby, it's okay. I'm here. You're okay. What happened? What did you see?"

"I need to talk to my mom," he pants.

"Okay, let's go. Thank you, Jan."

"My pleasure."

The only person who might be able to help is his mother. Diana knows something, but because of her illness, it's not going to be easy. Spencer saw his mother with bloody clothes on, and then he saw his dad in the backyard burning those same clothes. They know something, and they're not telling. Diana keeps saying the same thing whenever Spencer tries to ask her about it, and this is no different.

"Try to remember, Mom," Spencer begs.

"No, I can't."

"You were there. You watched Dad burn the bloody clothes."

"You had a dream."

"Mom, this was not a dream. This was a memory. It was a memory and I saw you."

"Your mind is such a treasure," she admires. "Even as a baby, you knew about things you weren't supposed to know."

"This is not about me. This is about Riley Jenkins."

"It was always about you."

"Please, mom. Please, just try to remember. Remember Riley."

"Riley? Riley was real. Oh, poor Riley," she gasps sadly.

"Yes, poor Riley. Did Dad do something to him?"

"Dad? No."

"Think, Mom," Spencer says, getting a bit frustrated with her.

"No, no. That's--no, no. Now you're confusing me, Spencer."

"You knew. You knew about Dad, and you didn't do anything."

Something snaps inside Diana's mind, and she starts freaking the fuck out. She starts slamming her hands to her head, and if someone doesn't stop her soon, she will hurt herself.

"No! You don't know! No! No!"

Doctors and nurses rush in as soon as they hear her, and one of the nurses has a sedative that will calm her down easily. Spencer hates seeing his mom this way, and he hates that you're seeing this.

"I'm just going to give you something to relax."

"No... it could have been you," she whispers painfully.

"What? What did you say?" Spencer asks.

"It could have been you."

You two leave to give her some time to calm down, and Derek and Rossi are waiting outside of the building for you two to return. Spencer is too distraught to speak, so you tell Rossi and Derek what happened.

"She's not stable, Reid. You can't put stock in what she says. I don't need to tell you that," Derek sighs. "I don't need to tell you this is textbook. Father reroutes compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate. The woman thought Riley was an imaginary friend until you told her otherwise. That's the mind's way of suppressing memories she doesn't want to face. You're losing objectivity here, kid."

"I'm not trying to say I know what happened or how my dad's involved, Morgan, but my dad's involved."

"He didn't kill him, Spencer. I've looked many murderers in the eyes, even the ones who were trying to hide what they did. Your dad didn't murder or molest Riley."

Spencer looks at you with a look of betrayal, and you can't help but feel bad about this. He needs an answer, so he turns to the one person who makes the most sense, which is also the person who abandoned him. There are underlying issues between him and his dad that go beyond what's at stake here.

Spencer is still hell-bent that his dad has something to do with this, so he drags you, Rossi, and Derek to the same police station that Detective Hyde is in. If anyone is going to help Spencer, it's the detective who was on the case originally.

When you get to the police station, you see Lou Jenkins leave. He looks over at your group before continuing on his way away from it. Spencer is confused as to why he's here, but he goes inside nonetheless to speak to Detective Hyde about holding his dad until he has more evidence against him.

"I'd like to request that you hold Will Reid and detain him until further notice."

"You got no evidence against him."

"A suspect can be detained for questioning for forty-eight hours, regardless of evidence."

"I'm not in the habit of ruining people's reputations on a whim."

"Where's your captain? I want to talk to your captain."

"Spencer," you hiss, but he doesn't pay you much mind.

"Talk all you want. This is a local murder, and your authority ends at the state line. Why don't you just head back over to the Fountain View, have a couple of drinks by the pool, and think about this."

"I have thought about this."

"This guy's your father."

"What's your point, Detective?"

"Maybe you're here to work out some other issues?"

A wave of anger washes over you that's coming from Spencer, so you put your hand on his shoulder and take over.

"Detective Hyde, I understand the circumstances here. It's not every day this happens. We'd really appreciate it if you'd help us out here."

Detective Hyde looks between you and Spencer, and you look at him with sympathetic eyes.

"You've got twenty-four hours."

"I really appreciate that. Thank you."

Before Spencer says something that will upset the detective, you and Derek pull him off to the side to speak to him privately.

"Reid. You gotta keep your head, man."

"He just agreed to it. It happens all the time."

"Spencer, he's right. You're letting your emotions get the better of you."

"That's rich coming from you," he says angrily.

You know he's not really angry at you but angry at the entire situation. It's why you'll let this comment slide. Spencer leaves the police station to get some air, and this time, you let him have his space. Derek's phone rings, and he places Pen on speakerphone once he sees it's her calling.

"Talk to me, Garcia."

"So, this Gary Michaels you asked me to track down seems to have peeled himself right off the grid."

"What did he do? Skip town?"

"Apparently. Maybe he took a new name, too. Everything in his name lapsed from non-use in the year after Riley's murder."

"Maybe he didn't want to stick around for the investigation," you suggest.

"In addition to the indecent exposure wrap, he also had some lewd behavior for trespassing at a nursery school," JJ says. "It's hard to believe the cops never pegged this guy as a suspect."

"Any other avenues to find him?"

"You betcha. They swabbed him in '85 for the exposure thing, so I'm sending up balloons through ViCAP and CODIS."

"If he's offended again over the past twenty years under a different name, and we all agree he probably has, then he will pop up somewhere."

"Alright, keep us in the loop."

"Will do."

Thanks to Detective Hyde agreeing to bring Will in, it's not long before Spencer's dad is brought in for questioning. Spencer comes back in just in time to see his dad go into an interrogation room.

"You still think he did it, don't you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, for one thing, Gary Michaels fits the profile. For another, he fled town after Riley's murder. He's a better suspect than your dad, Reid."

"He's a convenient one. Someone slipped the file under my door, Morgan. What am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe they're trying to help."

"Maybe they're trying to frame him."

"Spencer, think about what you're saying. I think Derek is right here. Your dad didn't murder Riley."

"I can't believe you, of all people, are taking Derek's side on this."

"I'm not. I'm just saying--"

"Well, don't just say," he cuts you off angrily.

Why is he acting like this? He's not even listening to your side of the story.

"Reid, you're talking about someone helping to cover up the murder of a child. Who would do that?" Rossi asks, breaking the tense silence.

"Do you remember how resistant Detective Hyde was when I asked him to bring in my father?"

"So, what, you're accusing a cop now?" Derek asks.

"It was a police file."

"It was a very old police file. Anybody could have accessed it."

"He told me to go back to the Fountain View, have a drink by the pool, and think about things. I never told him we were staying at the Fountain View."

Spencer leaves the group without so much as a look at you.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #series rewrite #cm season 4

[thedeafprophet]

pu-er and green tea for your ocs?

gonna do alex for the first and jam for the second!

Pu-erh: What does your OC do when they’re stuck indoors for a day or two?

He hates it lmao. Alex has a lot of trouble staying still, and likes to be out and about and doing things. Being stuck inside for a few days would be extremely agitating unless theres some specific reason for hiding inside (like an injury or illness, or like, after Adornment he hid inside for awhile while recovering)

Otherwise to keep himself occupied he'd try and keep busy. Work on plans for a heist at a later date, or maybe work on some cooking or baking. Something to do with his hands. He may just walk around in a circle for a bit, who knows. His apartment isnt very big....

Green: What is your OC’s favorite piece of clothing?

hmmm the obvious pick would be to go for something in game, but actually i think Jam's fave item isnt even their fancy outfits or dresses or suits, or even jewlery and other getups.

I think their favourite is their nightgown - they so enjoy quiet moments of just lounging around and being comfortable; something they own that isnt really intended for a crowd to see

ask game from here

#ask game #oc: alex #oc: jamie

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

*breathing heavily*

Vampire Mikey. Male reader. please-

*collapses*

I ran all the way here

Boy, You Look Like Death (But Healthy Guys are Such an Eyesore) - (Mikey Way x male!reader) 

Summary: Mikey’s really been struggling to find the right time to come out to his boyfriend. Not as gay, obviously - it would be a bit concerning if he didn’t know that by now - but as a vampire. Unfortunately for him, he’s the least subtle person in the world, and his boyfriend has more than two brain cells to rub together... 

Word count: 2790 

Warnings: very brief mention of drugs and alcohol (no use by either Mikey or the reader) 

AN: take a moment to catch your breath, dear requester! Recover from that run of yours and enjoy the sweet little tale under the cut 

Also, this title is taken from a song called Eyesore by a band called Salem, they’re a kick ass band and you should definitely go and listen to them because all of their songs are just a wee bit slutty and very vampire-y (the frontman also leads Creeper, one of my favourite ever bands and the loves of my life, and they also slap and you should absolutely listen to them too) 

Anyway that’s enough trying to brainwash you into loving my favourite bands too, on with the story! 

(y/n) knew for a fact that Mikey had no idea that he knew that he was a vampire. The poor, gorgeous boy had been trying incredibly hard not to give the game away, but by the fifth date it had been pretty obvious. And they’d been a couple for three whole months now. So he’d known for a while. 

It had been lots of little things together that made him add all the pieces up and come to the right conclusion - it was the only one that made sense. They’d been to an Italian place for the third date, and Mikey had needed to take some tablets before eating. He claimed he had a slight intolerance to garlic, which (y/n) had believed at the time. There were stranger things to be allergic to, after all, and lots of people were allergic to stuff that others might find surprising. Another thing was, Mikey had only ever taken him on dates after nightfall. This had been explained away by the fact that, as he was in a band, a lot of his life happened at night! Before the dark came he would stay in whichever venue they were performing in, declining offers to go out for food with the excuse that he wasn’t hungry. He often woke up late in the day anyway, given that the parties he’d go to after the shows were over would last until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t that much of a surprise that he was a little nocturnal. 

But other things in combination had started to make him wonder. Mikey got sunburnt very easily. He hated having his photo taken, blaming it on his insecurities, and photos of him never seemed to come out clearly. There was always some kind of blur, or fuzziness, or strange shadow falling across his face that obscured his features. He was the same around mirrors, always turning his head away whenever he walked past. The first few times, (y/n) had believed the insecurity theory; there’d been times in his life when the thought of looking at his own face for any extended period of time had made him uncomfortable too. 

Then one day, he’d stumbled across an online forum aimed at freshly minted vampires - yes, he’d been surprised to see that they actually existed, too - and everything had started to make sense. For one, Mikey was incredibly pale, and had a bone structure that could almost be called skeletal. He always looked a little bit sickly, like a Victorian child recovering from some deathly illness. It suited him, really - some people just suited being whiter than a sheet of paper - but it definitely made more sense when the vampire idea was applied. Gerard was nowhere near as pale unless he was wearing his stage makeup, and their parents were fairly ordinary in terms of skin tone, so it was one of the most logical explanations. And whenever he stayed over at his flat, he had a mysterious habit of disappearing in the middle of the night for relatively long periods of time. His reasoning for this, when (y/n) had sleepily begged him not to leave again one morning, was that he often had nightmares and didn’t want to wake his lover up. So he would go and hide in the bathroom to calm down before coming back. Again, if it had been that excuse on it’s own, (y/n) probably would’ve believed it in a heartbeat - but along with everything else, it just made his suspicions even greater. 

Now all he had to do was wait for him to come clean about it. 

(y/n) really didn’t want to start that conversation - there was still a miniscule chance that he was wrong, and he really didn’t want to imagine the argument that incorrectly accusing his boyfriend of being a vampire would cause. And unlike his past relationships, this one was going incredibly well! He really didn’t want to risk ruining this over something like that. So his plan was just to wait - either until Mikey slipped up and did something that would make it obvious, or until he flat out admitted it. 

The conversation finally happened one night after a post-show party. They’d been at someone’s house who’s name they’d forgotten before the two of them had even got in the door - it belonged to a friend of a friend of one of the crew, from memory, but there had been so many different people there that names had slipped away like smoke in the breeze. In any case, the two of them had spent most of the time loitering in corners with the rest of the band or tucked away with their tongues down each other’s throats, so it wasn’t like anyone else really mattered. Everyone was sweaty after being packed into a tiny venue all night, and the vast majority of the room was drunk out of their minds. (y/n) was pretty sure that he’d seen some questionable substances being passed around in the corridors - and he knew for certain that Frank had gone outside to join the group smoking weed - but neither he nor Mikey were too interested in that. In fact, the pair of them were pretty much sober, just riding out the adrenaline high that had come from the evening’s gig. 

They’d been together for almost the whole evening, only separating so that Mikey could go to the bathroom. He’d been gone almost fifteen minutes by the time he came back, but that didn’t worry (y/n) at all. He simply assumed that there was a queue, or that his lover had felt unwell and used it as an excuse to get a breather away from everyone for a few moments. When he’d returned, there was something visibly different. His eyes shone a little brighter, there was a new confidence in his step. Something had changed. And he had an idea of what. 

The two of them had left not long after that, craving a cosy evening in with each other, and on the walk home (y/n) spotted the perfect in to that mammoth topic he’d been dancing around for the last few months. There was a little dark smudge at the corner of Mikey’s mouth. And whenever they passed underneath a street lamp, that tiny mark flashed a deep red. The colour of blood. 

Mikey had fed at the party. 

Deciding to wait until they got back to his flat, (y/n)’s heart raced beneath his ribs for the rest of the short walk. His idea was pretty much completely confirmed now, but he still wasn’t exactly sure how to approach things. Saying things the wrong way could still cause a fight even if he was correct in his deductions, and that was the last thing he wanted. 

He switched the light on in the living room, and an idea flashed into his mind like the spark of electricity illuminating the filaments in the bulb. 

“Oh, Mikey! I think you’ve chewed through your lip, baby. There’s some blood on your chin.” 

It didn’t seem physically possible for Mikey to get any paler than he possibly was already, but in this light it really looked like the rest of the blood had drained out of his face. “W-what?” 

“Yeah, there’s not much but it’s still there. Let me clean that up.” As he raised a hand, wanting to brush the dark liquid away with a stroke of his thumb, Mikey flinched back a little. 

“No, don’t, I- it’s not mine...” He trailed off, looking incredibly uncomfortable, wringing his hands anxiously. 

(y/n) stepped back a little, wanting to give him the space to say it. “I don’t understand.” 

“I... oh God, I’m so sorry. I, I should have told you sooner, should’ve been honest with you right from the start so you could get out easily, I-” He stopped, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been lying to you. Well, not exactly lying, I just haven’t been honest. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” 

Seeing just how panicked Mikey was - the poor boy was almost on the verge of tears - he stepped closer again, offering a comforting hand. “Hey, talk to me. I’m worried about you more than anything else. I just need you to be okay.” 

“I... (y/n), I’m a vampire. And I know I should have told you way sooner than this, I was just so scared-” 

(y/n) cut him off with a swift kiss, taking him completely by surprise. Using this to his advantage he slipped his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth, a little shocked by just how much he liked the hint of iron on his lover’s tongue. It was a surprisingly arousing addition to Mikey’s usual taste. When he pulled away, Mikey’s eyes were almost as wide as dinner plates, and he offered up a reassuring smile. “Baby, I’ve known for a while now.” 

“I-you... what?” 

“Yeah. It wasn’t hard to figure out when I put all the little pieces together. Kinda like, two plus two is four, you know? Pretty simple.” 

“I...” He was pretty much speechless, trembling as the tension he’d been retaining in his muscles all started to fade away at once. He let (y/n) lead him over to the sofa, guiding him to sit down and tucking an arm around his waist. He still struggled with his words for a moment, before managing to spit out a single word. “How?” 

“Well, it was kinda obvious.” He giggled sheepishly, ticking things off on his fingers. “A garlic allergy and scary paleness - which is incredibly sexy on you, might I add - combined with you being mostly nocturnal, disappearing randomly in the middle of the night, and never being clearly visible in a single photo? All together, it only pointed towards one thing.” 

“And... you still stayed?” 

The way his voice cracked broke (y/n)’s heart, and he kissed him with even more passion than the last, desperate to get his point across. “Mikey, I love you! Of course I stayed.” 

There was a moment of dead quiet - neither of them had been brave enough to say those three little words before. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He stroked the other man’s thigh, trying to soothe him as much as possible. “Look, I wouldn’t have stayed if it wasn’t something I was totally okay with! And honestly? I wasn’t a hundred percent sure until I saw the blood today. All those things added up, but I didn’t wanna bring it up to you and then be wrong. I didn’t wanna fight with you... the thought of losing you was just too much to handle.” He sighed, nudging his forehead against Mikey’s shoulder. “You really do mean a lot to me. I didn’t wanna spoil things by bringing it up before you were ready to talk.” 

Mikey looked entirely baffled: he hadn’t prepared for a reaction like this. In his head, he’d dreamt out a variety of scenarios that could arise in this situation. He’d rehearsed how to handle anger at being lied to, tears stemming from feelings of betrayal, fury, name-calling, the love of his life walking straight out the door and never looking back. But he had simply never pictured pure acceptance - or the fact that he might have calculated the truth all by himself. Maybe he should’ve done. His boyfriend was an incredibly intelligent person, so maybe it was an insult to assume that he wouldn’t work it out. Either way, he had no clue whatsoever on how to handle this. 

And so he settled for crying instead. He hadn’t thought he’d cry in a situation like this, at least not in front of (y/n), but he was just so overwhelmed by the genuine love streaming from the other man that he didn’t know what else to do. He was vaguely aware of (y/n) moving to hug him even tighter, murmuring soothing words in his ear as he rubbed his back. He could hear (y/n)’s blood rushing beneath his skin, his heart beating steadily in his chest. He could smell his usual scent, sweet and strong and so uniquely him. And most importantly, he couldn’t smell any fear. Fear had a scent that was unmistakeable, and there wasn’t a hint of it on him. (y/n) genuinely wasn’t scared of him. And that made him sob even more. 

The two of them stayed like that for several minutes more as Mikey hiccupped his way back to calmness, ever soothed by his boyfriend’s loving words. His tone never wavered, constantly steady and gentle as he held him. (y/n) was overcome with emotion at the thought of how scared Mikey had been, and wanted - no, needed - him to know that he wouldn’t ever be scared of the man he loved. 

When Mikey was finally breathing normally again, (y/n) gently tipped his face upwards, needing him to see the honesty in his eyes. 

“Listen to me, baby. I love you more than I could ever really describe. It’s like you’re the Earth and I’m the moon - I’m constantly being pulled towards you, and now you’re in my life I don’t want to think about you not being a part of it. And besides, you want my honest opinion? I think the fact you’re a vampire is stupidly attractive.” 

Mikey actually managed to laugh at that, wiping away the tears and the last of the blood that lingered on his lower lip. “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel good about myself, are you?” 

“No way. Trust me, it’s hot. If I wasn’t into it, I would’ve made an excuse to go back to being just friends with you the moment I came to that conclusion. Pinky promise.” 

“I... I don’t think anyone has ever had that reaction before. Normally most people are... freaked out. Scared of me.” 

“Well, I’m not most normal people, am I?” (y/n) grinned, kissing him on the forehead. “Look, if... if you’re not ready to say, you know, the big three words just yet, that’s totally okay with me. I’m not expecting you to say it back, I swear. I just really, really needed you to know how I feel about you. How much you mean to me. Don’t feel bad if you still need some time.” 

For the first time in that whole conversation, (y/n) looked nervous, and Mikey took very little time to think before responding. This time he was the one to initiate the kiss, passionate and forceful and tender, pouring every ounce of love into that one intimate act. He needed him to know that he felt exactly the same way, and for now words didn’t seem strong enough. 

He didn’t pull away until (y/n) tapped him on the thigh, red in the face from lack of air, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget that normal people need to breathe.” 

“I don’t mind that much.” He giggled, kissing the tip of his nose. “I find that kinda attractive too.” 

Mikey blushed as much as he was able to, rubbing his forehead against his boyfriend’s like a cat seeking affection. “(y/n), I am so in love with you. And this? I imagined every possible reaction except this one. I didn’t tell you because I was terrified that you’d turn me away, or hate me. So...” 

“Baby boy, I could never hate you. Not in a million years. I have, like, a million questions I’m dying to ask you though.” He grinned, squeezing Mikey’s hands between his. “But I think we should save that for later on. Right now, the only thing I want is to cuddle up in bed with you. Get all cosy in our little blanket nest and just forget about the rest of the world for a little while. Sound good to you?” 

“Sounds great to me.” 

The duo got up and headed towards (y/n)’s bedroom hand in hand, already dozing off as they got through the door. After a little arguing over which way the spooning situation was going to go, Mikey gave in and let (y/n) be the big spoon, every muscle relaxing as he pulled him against his chest. He turned back for a second, just about managing to press a kiss to his incredible boyfriend’s cheek. 

“I love you so much, (y/n). More than I can ever really say.” 

“I know, Mikey. I love you too - for as long as you’ll let me.” 

“Forever, then.” 

“Yeah, forever. I like the sound of that.” 

#mcr #my chemical romance #mikey way #mikey way x reader #mikey way x male reader #male reader #fanfic #fic #vampire mikey!! #mikey way would make a very pretty vampire just saying #drabble #oneshot #who doesn't like vampire stories #vampire mikey lives in my head rent free icl #also i will not apologise for pushing my favourite bands at you i listen to so many smaller bands that deserve so much love!!! #sorry not sorry #the vampire mikey pics from when we were young fest have done things to my soul #i've had a thing for vampires since i was a kid though so there's that too #i want vampire!mikey to [redacted] #ooh it gets a wee bit hurt/comforty in here #but it's CUTE

[snarltoothed]

not to be evil but i think it’s sooo funny that the Y chromosome is so degraded there’s a bunch of men out there with Y-chromosome related immunodeficiencies (which i think are often specifically respiratory-related) many of whom have no idea and actively did their part in letting COVID turn into a forever pandemic.

sucks that viruses can’t hold misandrist beliefs and that women still get & die from COVID but it is really funny that it kills more men simply because their male government leaders let it run rampant and so many of the stupid anti-masking anti-quarantine “COVID isn’t even real” idiots supporting their male governments taking as little precautionary measures as possible were men… and given that medicine is reluctant to admit that men are far more prone to immunodeficiency issues because it would hurt mens’ feelings if that were common knowledge, they’re typically not diagnosed unless some relatively normal illness almost kills them… at least some percentage of those idiot moids were actively “working” (AKA being menaces to society) to preserve conditions that will lead to their early deaths.

don’t get me wrong it’s a fucking tragedy that we have to live with a dangerous, life-threatening, and life-changing coronavirus for presumably the rest of forever. a subject that was, notably, covered extensively in all different sorts of media in the 2000s after the SARS outbreak in order to assauge public fears about a wider-scale SARS-like outbreak with stories showing how government and health agencies would do whatever necessary to contain it, even in the face of crowds of angry and inconvenienced citizens who do not believe in the necessity of disease control measures. to be fed lies for nearly a decade and when the time actually comes they fuck it up so badly that the publics’ fear of living in a world where a virus as common and communicable as the common cold is capable of killing or permanently disabling a previously healthy person. less than a century after the invention of antibiotics, antivirals, and flu vaccinations which gave humanity its first, and now possibly only, brief respite from the fear of coming down with a common communicable illness and dying or living but never recovering.

HOWEVER, silver linings, men be out there refusing to wear masks around sick people or to get vaccinations because that would be emasculating because they think being a big stronk “independent thinker unlike those masked and computer-chip implanted sheeple who can’t tell the whole ‘COVID’ thing is a psy-op so the government can track you even closer” (or whatever) somehow should make them immune to getting sick… then ending up in the hospital on their deathbed crying and begging some poor nurse for the vaccine because they didn’t even bother to look into the purpose and function of vaccines before screeching that the government is implanting tracking devices and trying to give everyone autism.

like i said, not to be evil, but it sounds like you’re reaping what you’ve sown my guy. rest in peace!

#r

[aronarchy]

Sysmeds seem to be completely unable to be critical of the DSM or anything else they read if it’s “official,” lol.

The fight to exclude non-distressed impairment from definitions of disorder is a hard-fought ongoing battle by disability activists.

Currently, what is considered “functioning wrong” is determined entirely by (white Western) standards of what is “bad functioning”: when something goes against a set notion of what the body should be like/do. Once again sysmeds (like certain other bigoted/exclusionist/identity-invalidating/-disbelieving groups) essentialize the “default” human body (or what they consider the default) at the expense of individual needs and desires and experiences. If the body/mind is working “wrongly,” but the individual is okay with it and not distressed by it, where’s the issue? Why is it an illness, why does it need to be “fixed”?

Consider that not everyone aligns with the expected default regarding what they want and feel in comparison to what their body/mind is doing. And that is okay.

Major strawman/edge case there: anti-sysmedicalists have never said that the distress we discuss is “distress from knowing you have DID (they’re probably thinking of people feeling despair/internalized stigma).” We acknowledge that you can be in distress from experiencing DID while unaware/in denial of it. Not what this is about. If you “have parts” but are not in distress, it is not DID.

If someone “experiences issues” with relationships/work, that means they are distressed by it. But distress has to be evaluated in isolation: is their distress caused by having alters itself, or the alters fighting/switching a lot but not having alters itself (as in, if the fighting & frequent switching were addressed there would no longer be any distress), or is it because they are forced to do relationships/work because of society/capitalism forcing them into distressing situations they would not experience if they had choice in a liberated world?

Unless they aren’t distressed, but still do relationships/work in a way normative society considers “wrong”/rulebreaking/inefficient/whatever, and go through that totally aware and fine with it, and although they are incapable of forcing themselves to conform they are totally fine with not conforming. In which, once again, the problem would be with external society alone, not the way their brain works itself.

Perhaps think for a damn second before you start saying “disorder is when you can’t be a good little capitalist stooge on the assembly line being as productive as your peers even if you don’t have a problem with that as long as your bosses do.” Perhaps consider where that rhetoric likely came from, and who would benefit from it.

(Note: I’m not saying situations 1 or 2 would not qualify as DID/disordered. But clarifications.)

Seems like sysmeds on average/mostly consider autism inherently a disorder. But why would my autism be a disorder, if in an accommodating and non-stigmatizing world I would not experience any distress from the fact that I have it, and all the distress I experience right now is allowed to be because of/caused by external factors? (Obviously every autistic person has different experiences. But also, obviously, nuance exists.)

I do have actual disorders and the experience is quite different, they’re mostly hell with a few occasional reprieves (though I’m kind of recovering and have been doing better these past few months) but yeah, I’m extremely pissed off at medicalists trying to equate the two experiences. I (personally) would greatly appreciate if I had the option to make them/their symptoms go away entirely, as they’re quite unpleasant. I think it's quite ridiculous that certain people would claim experiencing that is equivalent to merely experiencing abnormality/non-normativity/divergence/difference.

Going to (shamelessly) self-promote my essay here, I scribbled it down at 2am two months ago and have been too low on spoons to edit out any potentially undesirable bits but I’m too tired of explaining the same things over and over and it’s reasonably comprehensive.

This post is not about origins, it is about currently experienced effects. Do not complain about this post being pro-/anti-endo, I’m pro-endo but that’s not really relevant to this.

#OP #syscourse #disability justice #disability liberation #neurodiversity #neurodivergent liberation #antipsych #anti psych #psych critical #psychiatry critical #autimedicalism #neuromedicalism #anti sysmedicalism #pro nondisordered systems #disabled #actually neurodivergent

[cistematicchaos]

CW: Eating Disorder talk. If you feel uncomfy reading further, I understand. You can delete this ask if you think it crosses a line.

Please please I need you to understand that I am actually sending this ask in good faith, I love your blog and I've learned a lot, and I'm asking out of genuine ignorance and will to understand.

I'm very small and skinny (less than 100lbs at 5'6). I've got an eating disorder, which I am recovering from, but this will take a really long time and until it changes, my weight is as is. I've had this eating disorder for a long time, and it's affected heavily by my OCD. It is not and has not ever been about my weight, but rather other issues I've got. That being said, I have gotten negative attention due to my weight.

I see how people treat fat people, and I'm not trying to mitigate that. My sister has constantly been overlooked and spoken over by medical professionals, claiming her weight is the only issue she could possibly have. Clothes shopping is hell for her, and I know the world isn't built for her.

I have also experienced medical professionals overlooking symptoms, and at first I thought it was for good reason (my weight is unhealthy and recovery is necessary; my weight causes many health problems), but now I see that other symptoms were ignored because the obvious explanation was always the easiest to point to. Other problems not caused by my eating disorder were ignored.

And, many people have given me similar looks as my sister and said similar things. I've been rejected for job offerings, people telling me to my face that I'm disgusting. I'll admit that the world is much more suited to people like me, and I'm never going to ignore the inherent privilege I have because of my weight.

But don't I deserve to also have a voice? I don't intend to talk over fat people, and I know that there's a time and a place, but I feel like fat people think it's easy for me because I'm skinny.

Again, I'm asking in good faith.

Okay, so firstly, I'm totally just gonna take your word for it. You're asking in good faith and in good faith, I'm going to answer. But keep in mind, I am a bitch and I'm not going to hold your hand or gently explain this shit so that you can feel comfortable. If that's what you're looking for, you asked the wrong person.

There is no excuse for doctors ignoring your other medical issues. Nor is there any excuse for the ableism you're facing in social settings or the workforce. Because, to be clear, it IS ableism that you're facing! People judging you because of your eating disorder or because you look underweight (which is synonymous with ill) is ableism and quite literally disgusting. 

Of course you deserve to have a voice. You should have space to talk about these things and a community as well. And as long as you’re not being fatphobic or erasing fat people from these discussions, there’s nothing wrong with having these discussions at all. 

That said: you do have privilege because of your weight. Some things ARE easier for you. You’ve already acknowledged that. And I’m not going to sugar-coat it: fat people discussing fatphobia and you discussing the ableism you’re facing are not connected like you think they are and frankly, I think it’s really, really weird that you’re singling them out as if they’re silencing you.

Even if every single fat person in the world thought you had an easier life than them...there’s nothing you can do about that and it shouldn’t affect whether you fight against fatphobia or not. Plenty of people are going to make assumptions about you, correctly or incorrectly and it SUCKS but that’s something you’re going to have to live with. 

Also, people fighting fatphobia are quite literally some of your closest allies with the issues you’re facing. Stop thinking you’re competing for space to speak! Fat people, specifically fat people discussing fatphobia, are not your competitors. You. Are. Allies! (unless you’re a dick) 

Of course, don’t speak over fat people or enter discussions of fatphobia and make them about you instead. That goes without saying. But ableism and fatphobia and very, very closely intertwined. That’s why you’re recognizing so many of your sister’s experiences in your own. 

That doesn’t mean you can’t talk about yours, it just means you’re quite literally seeing firsthand how these issues connect and relate. Which is one of the reasons you have to fight fatphobia as well and make sure fat people aren’t just not being silenced in these discussions but being included. 

So, TALK. Look for other people experiencing what you are! And stop treating this like you’re competing against fat people! They are not competing with you! You’ve already said you’re aware they’re experiencing a lot of things you do as well! That’s not a sign you need to compete for space: it’s a sign you should be very close allies. 

All you have to do now is speak up and reach out. It’s gonna take some work and yeah, some people are not going to take you seriously, people are going to be assholes but if you’re willing to put in the work, I can guarantee it’s worth it.

#fatphobia #body neutrality #body positivity #disability #ableism #disabled #asking chaos #not sure if this is the answer you wanted #but like #love #this isn't the olympics #fat people are not your enemy #you talking about these experiences #doesn't somehow make a mockery of fat people or something #these are VERY CLOSELY CONNECTED #like #if anyone is going to intimately understand what you're talking about #it's not just going to be skinny people who went through the same thing #but fat people who did and do as well! #like you're overcomplicating this #i get where you're coming from #but it's just not that deep #TALK #you will be so surprised how many people #will not just listen #but NEED TO HEAR #that other people are going through the same thing! #and pls /\ stop hyperfocusing on whether fat people think you're privileged or not #that bullshit goes nowhere #its unproductive

[midnightactual]

The Background Game of Bleach

four things that have bothered me for a long time are:

why are Yoruichi and Tessai so deferential to Kisuke when they were arguably his superiors in the Gotei 13 by being Sōshireikan and senior and recommending Taichō, and Sōsui respectively? they were peers of Yamamoto so why are they following orders from this newbie Taichō who didn’t even get a decade of service in that role?

why are the adults of Karakura so disconnected from one another? Yoruichi, the Shōten, the Vizard, Isshin, and Ryūken do not really engage that much with each other. this is true of every group in the series (the Karakura kids, Gotei 13, Espada, and Sternritter all lack internal cohesion and the interactions of the adults broadly mimics those of the kids; we’re told they’re friends but they really don’t act like it) but why when they had every reason to band together?

why do Isshin and Ryūken seemingly not really stress to Kisuke the coming of Wandenreich given Yhwach killed their wives and why does the latter not appear to have any plans in place despite years of ample evidence that Yhwach would indeed return?

why does Kisuke more generally appear to have no interest in the Quincy unless forced to? why does Mayuri not care even the tiniest bit about the Hōgyoku?

and it’s occurred to me that there is one explanation that makes perfect sense out of all four of these things

okay so Yoruichi and Tessai represent 2/3 of the Seireitei’s equivalents of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and they wind up in possession of six Taichō (Kisuke, Shinji, Love, Rose, Kensei, Hachigen) with a seventh later joining (Isshin) and ultimately four more equivalents (Lisa, Mashiro, Hiyori, and Ryūken). do the math: that is 13 Captain-equivalents. they basically had their whole own Gotei 13 just in Karakura.

so why do Yoruichi and Tessai take the biggest backseat roles? Yoruichi has personal reasons and it seems to me that Tessai becoming Kisuke’s majordomo is a response to that but there is still the mission to consider: they know at a minimum that they have to bring down Aizen

you know what the weirdest thing about the Soul Society arc is in retrospect? it’s not an invasion. why weren’t the Vizard tagged in? they all have very personal reasons to go. why isn’t Isshin tagged in? he’s still recovering but he’s not even approached. why isn’t Ryūken tagged in? Aizen’s plan entails the destruction of his hospital, staff, patients, son, and himself and Ryūken is many things but suicidal by apathy isn’t one of them. he wasn’t asked

why? why not send in everyone with everything they’ve got? they could’ve pinned the Gotei 13 down and gotten Rukia out in an hour and maybe even have iced Aizen in the process (remember: Ryūken would be super-strong in Soul Society and for sure had never seen Kyōka Suigetsu)

it’s not realistic to say this couldn’t have happened. Yoruichi and Tessai had the seniority to talk no jutsu everyone else and they had mostly a century to do it. they could have built their own Gotei 13 in exile and even gone so far as to straight-up steal a bunch of asauchi and make their own personally-trained Shinigami too. no interest at all in that. why?

it’s because that would have confirmed Central 46′s likely story to themselves about what happened in TBTP: a coup d’etat launched by Yoruichi. why would that be a bad thing? because after Aizen was Wandenreich and a de facto Shinigami civil war would have left them all ill-prepared to fight the Quincy

what was necessary was a light and “cheap” footprint that kept as many Shinigami alive and intact as possible so as many resources and abilities would be on the table to confront Wandenreich as possible. this meant sending in a small force (the Ryoka) to get Rukia and limiting their mission parameters. and this had two really notable effects:

Shinigami casualties were ultimately kept to an absolute minimum

new powers were developed or added (Ichigo, Chad, Uryū, Orihime, and later Grimmjow, Nelliel, and Xcution) to the existing pool of combatants

really think about it! even by the end of the Aizen Saga, there are only three notable Shinigami casualties: Gin, Kaname, and Jirōbō Ikkanzaka. Aizen killed two of those three. and Aizen himself was retained as a tremendously useful military asset!

the “light and cheap” approach worked and it preserved and developed Shinigami forces sufficiently that they beat Wandenreich by the skin of their teeth despite the catastrophic error of losing the Soul King to Yhwach. they won against “unknown unknowns” through...

means

and who is the master of means and the guy who is forever associated with doing things on the cheap and cultivating talent where he sees it?

Urahara Kisuke

Kisuke’s whole ethos is using a light touch and not heavy metal, steering things and using resources as and when available. he’s got no interest in Quincy because he knows Mayuri already has that covered. (and likewise Mayuri’s got no interest in the Hōgyoku because he knows that’s already covered.) it’s specialization. he’s fantastic at it. and the thing about decentralized specialization is it means there is no central command to take out (as happened with both Central 46 and Yamamoto)

it was a light, flexible, highly survivable plan to win two wars, not just one, and it worked pretty damn well all told

so why is Yoruichi a gofer and Tessai a butler? because they knew their talents were not suited for what the mission demanded happen and that they ought to take on support roles rather than continue as high command, which they also conveniently both seem to have been very tired of and all-too-happy to relinquish

#Out Of Character #Bleach #Meta #[ arguably the most dangerous wildcard ] #[ in the whole series ] #[ was Uryū ] #[ his training wasn't overseen ] #[ he almost killed Mayuri ] #[ who would turn out to be rather important ] #[ and then he did the whole lone wolf act with Wandenreich ] #[ he routinely almost wrecked the plan ]

[verkja]

Chapter summaries for this story

In case you want a recap, or want to read the story but wish to avoid details of some of the content warned for in a particular chapter. Needless to say, this whole post is a massive spoiler. Chapter summaries are listed chronologically below.

I didn’t include the optional BTHB pieces here because they’re not necessary to understand the story, but did include the (also not strictly necessary) prologue because it explains the source of some of a character’s injuries. May add BTHB summaries later, depending.

This is a WIP - I was going to wait until I'd caught up to where I am in the story, but figured some of the early chapters are among the heaviest anyway, so may as well put up what I've got. Currently covers the prologue through Pt. 13.

Prologue 1

A knight named Damian, in search of a missing woman, ventures into the tower of a dark wizard suspected to have abducted her. After a brief scuffle, he captures the wizard, who is ill and denies knowing anything about the woman. Damian takes him to the tower’s dungeon to interrogate him and make him pay for past misdeeds.

Prologue 2

Damian tortures the dark wizard in various ways, including by starving him, breaking his knee, and injuring his eye. He wants to make his prisoner beg for death before executing him. After several weeks, he remembers seeing an experimental portal in the tower and goes to investigate in case the missing woman is on the other side, leaving the dark wizard impaled on a hook. The portal explodes, killing Sir Damian.

Prologue 3

The dark wizard, Mures, hears the explosion and guesses what’s happened. He considers letting himself die, but decides against it. He gets off the hook (cutting his hands up in the process) and heals his worst injuries with magical salve. After dragging himself to his library to read an old folktale for consolation, he’s recovering from his ordeal when he hears voices approaching from outside. He leaves a warning about the portal and escapes out the back of the tower.

Pt. 1

Eight years after the events of the prologue, Radomil, a spellsword, is travelling through dangerous lands with five other mercenaries to deliver a codex. He muses on his companions: a scout, an herbalist, two warriors, and a dark wizard, the last of whom often fights with the others. Radomil doesn’t have strong feelings about any of them. After a skirmish with bandits, he helps the dark wizard, Mures, with a stab injury. Mures is initially rude to him, but thanks him for the help and promises to repay him with an ale later.

Pt. 2

Mures muses on his companions and on Radomil’s assistance, which he finds puzzling, since people usually hate him. The mercenaries get involved in a battle between bandits and a militia. A dragon is helping the bandits, having been tricked by them. During the battle, Radomil jumps onto the dragon’s back and informs it of the trick, causing it to leave. Mures is unexpectedly worried about the spellsword (who breaks a rib falling off the dragon), and is also reminded of heroic figures in folktales he’s read.

Pt. 3

Mures has been watching Radomil practise swordplay. Radomil goes looking for him when he fails to show up one day and finds him some way from the camp, looking ill. He tries to goad Radomil into a fight; it turns out this is to distract him from a spider Mures has been keeping in a jar after accidentally stepping on (and being bitten by) it. Radomil says he won’t harm the spider, and they talk relatively amiably while the spider's venom wears off. Later, Radomil realises he’s growing fond of his companion and has an anxiety attack about it.

Pt. 4

Despite bad weather making old injuries ache, Mures is in a great mood due to his recent chat with Radomil, who doesn’t match an archetype from the stories he’s read but whom he really likes. Taking a shortcut through the mountains, the mercenaries are trapped by a spirit which won’t let them pass unless half of them watch the others’ dreams for a night. After a tense discussion of who will take which role, Mures ends up watching Radomil’s dream. It’s a prophetic dream in which the sun breaks apart, ending the world.

Pt. 5

The mercenaries complete their contract. Over the ale Mures promised him, Radomil tells the sorcerer that his dream takes place 10-20 years in the future, and that he first dreamt it at age 12. He avoids making friends because he can’t bear knowing they’ll die when the world ends. In an effort to help him feel better, Mures suggests Radomil beat him up; taken aback, Radomil declines. Some drunk bar patrons interrupt and harass them until Mures scares them off with magic. The mercenaries call it a night; Radomil clarifies that he doesn’t dislike Mures before heading to bed.

Pt. 6

Rhedyn, Iesto, Mures, and Radomil travel towards a city a few days south with better employment opportunities. Iesto sprains his ankle; Mures wanders off to a bridge over a ravine while the others treat him. Upset about soon parting ways with Radomil, Mures considers jumping off the bridge. Radomil shows up; upon learning Mures is contemplating suicide, he asks if he can do anything to improve things for the sorcerer. Unwilling to suggest continuing to travel together (since his presence would just cause trouble), Mures requests a hug and, to his astonishment, receives one.

Pt. 7

The four mercenaries encounter bandits just outside the city of Phaenglane. In the ensuing battle, Radomil is captured by the bandits’ leader and stabbed in his shoulders. He tricks the leader and escapes; Mures ends the battle with an AoE spell. At camp later, Radomil worries Mures will wander away and kill himself; he hadn’t explained his motives for suicide, so they might still apply. To avert that possibility, Radomil requests his help with runes. The two have a friendly discussion.

Pt. 8

In Phaenglane, Iesto and Rhedyn go their separate ways. Mures considers leaving to find a nearby cliff, but instead accompanies Radomil to tea when invited. Radomil asks if he’d like to keep travelling together. Though his previous objections remain, Mures decides that since he’s a bad person anyway, he’ll selfishly say yes; Radomil can kill him later if necessary. Very happy with the arrangement, the two find new companions - Oriel, Samorn, and Kannika - and settle on a contract to seek a tomb in the mountains to the south. Mures and Radomil share a room for the night.

Pt. 9

The mountains are very cold, and Mures nearly freezes. The new company makes camp; Radomil and Mures get in a bedroll together. As Mures warms up, Radomil recounts tales from his past, including some mention of his dear friend and fellow mercenary Catha, who died years ago. Once recovered from his hypothermia, Mures gets up, saying he’ll stay awake to avoid freezing. Radomil suggests they sleep together instead. They wake up close together; Mures is awkward about it, while Radomil suggests they continue the arrangement until out of the mountains.

Pt. 10

To avoid higher mountains, the party detours through the magic-hating country of Glevium, which is covered by an anti-magic field. While on watch at night, Mures falls asleep and awakens tied up in a farmer’s cart. One of the people escorting him, a mayor, accuses him of attempting to become a lich and take over the country. He denies it to no avail. Arriving at a guardhouse, Mures’ captors hold him down on a table and push needles made of silver (bane of the undead) into his arm and his bad eye. Afterwards, they lock him in a cell; he decides to wait for a chance to escape.

Interlude

Seven years before the main story, Radomil, Catha, and their mercenary company are the last line of defence for a kingdom, Athamdind, being devastated by an eldritch storm. The mercenaries enter the storm, trying to reach its heart, protected by various magical shields. One by one, the mercenaries die as their defences fall, until only Catha and Radomil remain. Within sight of the magical sphere at the storm’s heart, Radomil’s shield fails. Catha protects them both until the sphere is destroyed, but uses her life energy to fuel the shield spell; Radomil holds her as she dies.

Pt. 11

Back in Glevium, the mayor has tortured Mures for four days, trying to make him admit to being a lich before killing him. He’s refused, but his hopes to escape before his companions leave Glevium are fading. Resting in his cell at night, he’s stunned when Radomil appears, having killed the guards outside. More guards arrive as they depart; Mures offers to stay if they’ll let Radomil go, but instead the spellsword defeats the guards without using magic. The two reunite with their party and return to the mountains. Mures says he’s fine; he’s been tortured before. Radomil gives him a hug.

Pt. 12

Radomil worries about Mures’ well-being and wants to get to know him better. Since he’s cagey, Radomil starts by explaining his own history with Catha: They were squires together, but forewent knighthood to preserve their moral agency. Catha was the only person Radomil told about his dream. In return, Mures says he used to be apprenticed to a dark wizard who ignored him except when she needed him for something; he spent most of his time reading folktales, which seem to be a sensitive topic. At camp, Mures dozes off beside Radomil; they share a bedroll again.

Pt. 13

The party reaches the tomb. Their contract fulfilled, they part ways; Mures and Radomil go east to seek another tomb mentioned in a text in this tomb, while the others return to Phaenglane. Mures worries that with no one as a buffer, Radomil will end up hating him. They chat as they walk; Mures says he researched energy transfer between worlds before becoming a mercenary, and before that, left his apprenticeship when his master tried to kill him. Privately, he recalls the lack of closure he felt hearing she’d died years later. He starts spiralling, but lets Radomil intervene with a hug.

Pt. 14

(WIP)

#masterlist #...sort of