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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

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

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings

GN reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@twitchchatvroom @parkeepingparker

#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur x reader #jschlatt x reader #mexican dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: near death #tw: blood #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: grief

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emmiewtf · 4 years ago

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renga fic recs to help fill the void<3

the momentary space that we call now by beecalm: The park beside the sea is haunted. It takes Langa two weeks of skateboarding lessons to realise this. chapters: 2/2 words: 21.8k

But Not Shattered by MermaidMarie: Oka takes Reki to the hospital after finding him beaten up in an alleyway. (canon divergent from ep10) chapters: 12/12 words: 65.7k

I Know You (better than you know yourself) by SpeedOfSnake: After a skating accident, Langa loses some of his memories. All Reki wants is to restore their previous friendship, but wonders if has the right back into his life when it was his fault that Langa got hurt. chapters: 12/12 words: 64.5k

there’s a hole in my soul (can you fill it?) by vitane: Langa is a pro-snowboarder who’s dealing with grief. Reki has just moved to Canada carrying deep homesickness with himself. Together, they help each other heal their wounds. chapters: 11/11 words: 58.9k

he was a skater boy, he said—no, you know what, no, we're not calling it that by arahir: Everyone knows Reki and Langa are dating. Everyone except Reki, that is. chapters: 2/2 words: 8.1k

to build a home by thankskelley: The king, Langa’s father, died a year ago. It makes sense to form alliances. It makes sense to strengthen those alliances with marriage. Maybe it’s wrong for Langa to be so apathetic about his own wedding, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Reki is trying his hardest to be the prince his country deserves, to be the heir his mother can rely on. It’s difficult, however, when everything he does is so far from good enough. He’s also getting married, which is kind of a big deal. He can’t wait to meet the guy. chapters: 6/7 words: 61.7k

training wheels by mayflymusic: After discovering that Langa never learned to ride a bike, Reki takes it upon himself to try and teach him. It...doesn't go well. chapters: 4/4 words: 9.7k

Love at First Sip by tamakibaby: There were two universal truths for college students that Langa had come to realize during his first semester: ‘8 AMs’ were a product of Satan himself and coffee (or any other form of caffeine, really) was man’s true best friend. So it came as no surprise that he stopped by the coffee shop every Monday morning before class and when he needed a pick-me-up. Whether the mood boost was due to the caffeine or the barista who was like sunshine incarnate and always spelled his name wrong on his cup, that was becoming harder to tell with every visit. chapters: 7/7 words: 22.4k

I've Got A Piece of Your Heart (But I Want the Whole Damn Thing) by Jenanigans1207: Reki asks Langa to translate the English writing of his soulmate and is left to wonder why, exactly, Langa turns so incredibly red as he does exactly that. chapters: 4/4 words: 29.8k

let go, take flight by babybluebells, maranch: Happiness comes in many different forms. Reki and Langa find their own, in their figure skating and maybe, just maybe, in each other. chapters: 5/? words: 37.7k

if you kiss me, will it be just like i dreamed it? by sk8ingfrogs (cursedhazel): Reki writes down everything he wants to do after graduation but doesn't quite remember putting "fall in love with your best friend" on the list. chapters: 1/1 words: 10k

read in between the lines by minfresh: The love letter is two sentences long. There isn’t even a Dear Langa, that’s how short it is. It covers approximately 10% of the paper’s surface area. The sentences get straight to the point. I have a crush on you. Isn’t that awful? It’s written in striking red, in an almost illegible handwriting. There’s no signature. For the first time in Langa’s life, he cares about a love confession. chapters: 1/1 words: 6.7k

Secret Admirers for Dummies: A Canadian's Guide to Falling in Love by discokonomi: Reki gets a secret admirer. Langa pines, wonders, comes to a realization, and stumbles into love. chapters: 1/1 words: 6.2k

Not Another Song By Avril Lavigne by alpha_hydra: Someone likes Reki, but they wish there was one tiny thing different about him. Surprisingly, Langa is the only one other than Reki who has a problem with this. Now with added love letters, confessions, bisexual crises, and dubious skateboarding knowledge. chapters: 3/3 words: 13.7k

Looking for You by IetjeSiobhan: It is there, looking, for all intents and purposes, as if it’s been there forever: a snowboard, beautiful and delicate and in the prettiest shade of pastel blue. (soulmark au) chapters: 1/1 words: 3.4k

Pick Me Up by Venxvon: When Reki asks Langa if he was going to carry him back, he means it as a joke. Langa, on the other hand, absolutely does not. (post ep11) chapters: 1/1 words: 3.9k

Double-edged by realfakedoors: Hasegawa Langa, a young noble with an unreasonable amount of responsibility about to be dropped into his lap following the death of his father, takes a season away from the northern province he's called home. He travels with his mother to Solaris, the kingdom's capitol and her homeland--it will do them good, she said. (She forgot to mention the part where they got ambushed by highwaymen on the way there.) Enter Kyan Reki, an apprentice blacksmith, who is just fulfilling a stupid errand for stupid Shadow, since he technically beat Reki in their last match at S. He ends up involving himself in the lives of some northern nobles, and before he knows it, he's thrust into a world of nobility and politics that might prove to be much more dangerous than any swordfighting could ever be. chapters: 3/? words: 18.2k

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #renga #sk8 fics

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joachimnapoleon · 3 years ago

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Meet the Bonapartes--Louis (3/4)

I left off with Part 2 of this an embarrassingly long time ago, but I'm trying to make it a habit of finishing more of the things I start, so I don't want to leave this hanging. So, one year later, here is Part 3 of my write-up on Louis Bonaparte, and I promise Part 4 will not have a similar gap in between.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

***

Louis had been sincere in his declaration, upon accepting the throne of Holland, that he had "become Dutch." He immersed himself in Dutch culture, encouraged his Dutch courtiers to wear their traditional clothing at court balls, and tried to learn and speak Dutch--sometimes with comedic results, such as when he declared himself the Konijn (rabbit), rather than Koning (king) of Holland. His subjects appreciated his efforts nonetheless.

They also appreciated the initiative Louis showed when tragedy struck early in his reign. On 12 January 1807, a ship bearing hundreds of barrels of gunpowder exploded in the Dutch city of Leiden, blowing up hundreds of buildings and killing 150 people, and injuring thousands. Louis immediately left for Leiden and oversaw the recovery efforts, earning him the nickname "Louis the Good" from a grateful populace.

[Aftermath of the Leiden explosion, by Johannes Jelgerhuis]

Louis began his reign with a flurry of activity, writing to Napoleon to request a number of measures intended to favor his new subjects. He requested a reduction in the number of French garrisons in the kingdom, a new treaty of commerce with France, and the right to choose his own men for his Royal Guard. Napoleon granted these, but refused his brother's request for a loan, arguing that the expenses of France were so great that he was unable to give Louis any money.

The Dutch climate negatively impacted Louis's perpetually delicate health from the beginning, but he rarely left the country for much-needed stays at health resorts; this was especially true later in his reign after his relationship with Napoleon had deteriorated so badly that Louis began to fear that he might be deposed in his absence.

That deterioration did not take long to commence. Napoleon began finding fault with Louis's reign almost from the beginning. Napoleon had intended for Louis to play a key role in the 1806 campaign against Prussia, and was seriously disappointed with his brother's sluggish movements and lack of cooperation with Marshal Mortier during the campaign. When, towards the end of the campaign, Louis balked at attempting to seize Hanover in spite of his greatly superior numbers, Napoleon's displeasure with his younger brother was complete. But Napoleon still took care to preserve Louis's reputation; Louis's forfeiture of his command to Mortier and subsequent return to Holland were attributed to bad health, and further territory from Napoleon's conquests was added to Louis's kingdom. Returning to his kingdom, Louis received a hero’s welcome.

If Napoleon was irritated with Louis's conduct during the campaign, Louis, in turn, was angered by the retention of Dutch troops in Germany after the war, commanded by a French general; this, in Louis's eyes, was proof that he was to be little more than a puppet-king. His flagging health notwithstanding, Louis spent the winter working to further assert his independence by implementing public works projects, reorganizing his kingdom's administration and law code, and creating his own military orders, the Order of Union and the Order of Merit. A major point of contention arose between Louis and Napoleon when Louis announced that he intended to introduce the rank of marshal into the Dutch army and navy. Napoleon wrote to him scornfully on 2 January 1807:

Do you think a French general of division would take orders from your Dutch marshals? You are aping French organization, though your circumstances are utterly different. Why not begin by establishing the conscription and having a real army?

He followed it up more bluntly and concisely a week later: "There is nobody in Holland fit to hold such high rank." Louis viewed this as an insult and persisted in implementing the rank, until Napoleon finally ordered him to abolish it as one of numerous conditions to which Louis was forced to concede in early 1810 in order to retain his kingdom. On the subject of conscription, Louis would successfully resist its implementation, despite Napoleon's repeated demands, to the end of his reign.

Louis's relationship with his wife, meanwhile, remained fraught. Hortense had stayed with her mother, the Empress Josephine, during the campaign, and did not return to the Hague until months after her husband, prompting a quarrel. Mutual recriminations abounded: Hortense was upset over Louis's attentions to a Dutch lady at court; Louis, in turn, complained of Hortense's conduct. Napoleon became aware of the conflict and wrote reprovingly to his brother:

You have the best and most virtuous of wives, and you make her miserable. Let her dance as much as she likes; it is only right at her age. I have a wife of forty, and from the battlefield I write to her that she must go to balls; and with a wife who is only twenty and naturally wishes to live her life and has still some of the illusions of youth, you want her to live as if she were in a convent, or to be busy always like a nurse with her children? You yourself are too much shut up in your study and not about enough in public business. I would not say all this unless I thought so much of you. Make the mother of your children happy. You have only one way of doing this, and that is by showing her a great deal of esteem and confidence.

Louis was stung, and protested to Napoleon that he was being misrepresented to the Emperor by rumormongers. The domestic quarrels continued, as did the gossip they inspired at the Dutch court.

The estranged royal couple suffered a severe blow with the unexpected death of their eldest son, Napoleon Charles. The boy, who had been regarded by the still childless Napoleon as the heir to the Empire, had fallen ill in late April 1807. Louis frantically summoned numerous physicians to tend to the child; multiple remedies were attempted; but all without success. The four-year-old child died at midnight on the 5th of May. Hortense was almost insensible with grief and had to be taken away from the palace. Caroline Murat arrived soon to be at Hortense's side, followed shortly thereafter by Josephine. Hortense eventually left to take the waters in the Pyrenees, and Napoleon gave Louis permission to leave his kingdom to join her in early June. At the end of the summer, Josephine arranged for Hortense, who was still very unwell, to remain with her while Louis returned to Holland. Their younger son, Napoleon Louis, remained with Josephine at Fontainebleau as well. This tragedy drew Hortense and Louis together in their shared grief, but the reunion was short-lived.

[Queen Hortense with Napoleon Charles]

Before Louis's return to Holland, he had argued over political matters with Napoleon. The Emperor wanted more troops from Holland; Louis replied that he could not afford to raise them, due to his kingdom's economy suffering from the recently enacted Berlin Decree, which prohibited all trade with England. But Napoleon was unwilling to grant any concessions on this subject, and it would ultimately be Louis's inability--which Napoleon would interpret as unwillingness--to enforce the ban on English trade, that would spell Louis's downfall.

The 1809 war brought Louis's kingdom under threat from attack by the English, who intended for an expedition to seize Antwerp. Antwerp, however, was a French fortress, and as such, Louis was technically not allowed to interfere with it; but his warnings to Napoleon of its vulnerabilities went unheeded. Louis pleaded with Napoleon that his entire kingdom was defenseless due to Napoleon sending Dutch divisions off to Spain and Westphalia; Louis was left with fewer than 9,000 soldiers in Holland. Napoleon refused to reinforce Louis and downplayed the English threat; when the invasion actually occurred, he then blamed Louis for it. Invoking his title as Grand Constable of France in order to take command of the French troops, Louis set to work arming his fortifications and extending river defenses. On the 16th of August, he handed over command of the forces at Antwerp to Marshal Bernadotte. The English expedition ultimately floundered, out of a combination of disease and incompetence.

Napoleon, rather than thanking or lauding Louis for his efforts, blasted him in his correspondence. Louis was told that his office of Grand Constable was purely civil and honorary and gave him no right to command French troops. He questioned how Louis could expect anyone to respect Holland's independence when he refused to provide a larger army and navy for its defense. Without a larger army, his kingdom was a farce.

Louis protested that he was being treated unjustly. He had already heard whispers that Napoleon was planning to annex Holland to France, and garrison it with French troops. As he would soon learn, these were more than just whispers. By late 1809, Napoleon had not only lost faith in Louis, but had come to suspect his brother of disloyalty. In the Emperor’s mind, his brother was far too sympathetic to the Dutch nobility, whom Napoleon distrusted for their ties to the English. Nor did Napoleon appreciate Louis's attachment to the Dutch people and his insistence on promoting Dutch culture at every turn. But above all, Napoleon could not abide his brother's failure to enforce the blockade against English trade; this, in the words of biographer Michael Broers, "was the issue that turned incapacity into treason in his mind." Napoleon was determined that his Continental System be upheld at all costs; he was not oblivious to the suffering this would entail, as he made it clear to Louis in one particularly menacing letter:

Make searches and seize English goods, and [then] my customs men will respect your territory. If you don't do it, I will, as is my right.... The blockade will ruin many commercial cities, Lyon, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, but this state of anxiety must be got over; it must go on to the end.

The efforts of smugglers and corrupt/patriotic police notwithstanding, the blockade wreaked havoc on the commercial cities, just as Napoleon had anticipated. Writes Broers:

Amsterdam plunged into harrowing decline in every sense. Emigration caused by the collapse of commerce was compounded by the spread of diseases related to poverty, reducing its population from 202,000 in 1808, to little more than 180,000 by 1815. Its shipyards, which had employed 2,000 men in 1800, had barely 500 by 1808. Empty towns stood in ruins, while shanty towns along the canals swelled. Poverty was manifest in the city, and even the number of taverns declined. The local system of poor relief and charity that Louis had inherited from the old republic was stretched to the breaking point by the unprecedented speed and scale of Napoleon's manufactured crisis; it is estimated that between 30 and 40 per cent of the population of Amsterdam depended on poor relief by 1809.

And yet Napoleon remained displeased with his brother's enforcement of the blockade, and was convinced that Louis was deliberately acting to thwart him. When the entire imperial family was summoned to Paris in December 1809 for what would be the announcement of Napoleon's divorce and ensuing re-marriage plans, Louis suspected--rightly--that he might be walking into an ambush. He warned his ministers that he might be coerced into signing documents against his will, and that they were to only regard documents signed with his Dutch name--Lodewijk--as valid. In the event of an attempted French occupation of the country, his commanders were to offer a passive resistance, bringing their men inside their fortresses, closing their gates, and raising their drawbridges.

Napoleon welcomed Louis to Paris coldly; at their second meeting, he told him frankly that he intended to annex Holland, and that if Louis resisted, he would find himself at war with France. "Holland," he said, "is nothing but an English colony, more hostile to France than England herself. I mean to eat up Holland!"

In a bid to keep his kingdom, Louis pleaded for a compromise, and demonstrated a willingness to make concessions, including increased enforcement of the blockade and a ceding of territory. Napoleon sent orders to suspend Oudinot's march to occupy Holland, so that negotiations could proceed. But first, there was the issue of the divorce. Louis attempted to piggyback on his brother's divorce from Josephine by petitioning the Emperor for the arrangement of a formal separation from Hortense. Napoleon, instead, decided to have the matter decided by a family council. Though the two would not be permitted to divorce, it was decided that they might live apart; Hortense was permitted to remain in Paris and given an income of half a million francs. She also retained custody of Louis's eldest son, to Louis's bitter disappointment.

During this interim, Napoleon's mind had changed about his earlier negotiations with Louis. He predicted that Louis would not be able to meet the requirements they had agreed upon, and that the annexation would only be deferred. Harsher terms were drawn up--Louis was required to cede to France all his territory up to the left bank of the Rhine; he was forbidden to trade or communicate with England; he was required to build an army of 25,000 men and increase the size of his navy; and the rank of marshal was to be eliminated from the Dutch military. Louis was prohibited from returning to his kingdom until the agreement was signed. The treaty was finally signed on the 16th of March; Louis arrived back in Amsterdam on the 11th of April. Despite his earlier agreement to let Hortense remain in Paris, Napoleon had insisted on her returning to Holland as well. Hortense dreaded the return. "I wrote the Emperor a despairing letter," she recorded in her memoirs. "He did not answer me." Upon her arrival, Hortense writes that Louis "was overjoyed to see his son again but paid little or no attention to me."

Louis's unhappy queen leaves the following portrait of her life at court during this time, on the brink of her husband's deposition:

Word would be sent me when dinner was ready that the King was waiting for me. While we were at the table he would scarcely say a word. After the meal the King would thrum on the piano, which stood open. He would take his son on his knees, kiss him and lead him out on the balcony which overlooked the square. The crowd, catching sight of them, would give a few cheers. The King would re-enter the room, return to the piano, recite some French poetry or hum an air. I would stay in an armchair, not saying a word and watching what went on in the room. When a few hours had passed, my husband, becoming conscious of the strained situation, would ring and send for the Dutch members of our household and the ladies in waiting. Card-tables would be brought out. Sometimes I played also and at nine o'clock I returned to my apartments after having said good night, the only word we had spoken to one another. This is an exact picture of how I spent my days at Amsterdam.

Hortense did not remain in the kingdom for long. Her health suffered, and it was soon determined that it would be better for her to return to France. She left her husband for the final time on 16 May 1810.

The Sword of Damocles was not long in descending on Louis. An assault on a coachman of the French ambassador gave Napoleon all the excuse he needed to finally carry out his plan to annex Holland. Napoleon demanded that the perpetrators be arrested and hanged; Louis's ministers pointed out the impossibility of identifying them. Oudinot was ordered to march on Amsterdam.

Louis briefly considered appealing to Russia or Austria for help, but it was far too late. He had word sent to Oudinot that, though his troops would receive no welcome, they would also meet no resistance. Louis made some final, hasty financial arrangements, including selling some of the Dutch estates he had acquired and transferring his diamonds out of the country.

On 1 July 1810, Louis abdicated in favor of his second son, Napoleon Louis. The following night, he boarded a carriage accompanied by his captain of the guards, an aide-de-camp, and his favorite dog, Tiel, and headed east. In one last parting blow, Tiel was hit and killed at a horse-changing station on the road. Louis was devastated. "It was," writes biographer Atteridge, "he said, part of his bad luck, that now haunted him everywhere."

For weeks, Napoleon was unable to ascertain the whereabouts of his brother. "We don't know where he has gone, and we know nothing about this lunacy." He asked Hortense if she had any word of him. Writes Hortense in her memoirs, “Real anxiety as regards what had happened to the King was my first reaction. No one knew where he had retired. I imagined that he had left for America, alone, with no one to help him, no one to console him. His fate aroused my sympathy. I almost came to believe that I had become fond of him, now that he had known misfortune." Louis finally wrote to Madame Mère from the health resort of Toeplitz, that he was "as well as can be expected, and well out of affairs to which I will never return."

Regarding Napoleon's feelings towards Louis, Broers concludes that they were

an ill-sorted mixture of piercing truth and injustice clouded by the deepest kind of hatred, rooted in love betrayed. Yet, Napoleon worried about Louis' safety once 'the business' was over. He did not harbour the fanatical hatred that leads to murder. Even after his ill treatment of Hortense, Louis was his brother, and Bonapartes did not practise 'insular vendetta.' Nevertheless, in the world of high politics, Louis' end signaled the end of his faith in his brothers.

***

Sources:

Atteridge, A. Hillard. Napoleon’s Brothers, 1909.

Broers, Michael. Napoleon: Spirit of the Age. 2018.

De Beauharnais, Hortense. Memoirs of Queen Hortense, Vol I.

Masson, Frédéric. Napoleon et sa Famille, Vol I (1796-1802), 1907.

Roberts, Andrews. Napoleon: A Life. 2014.

#Meet the Bonapartes #Louis Bonaparte #Napoleon #Napoleon Bonaparte #Hortense de Beauharnais #Holland #19th century

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stepha199 · 3 years ago

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Ok I finished reading Shadow and Bonebook and I have *some thoughts*

I saw the show first, it was immediately obsessed with it.

I loved Ben Barnes and Jessie. I was blown away by their chemistry.

I loved everything about the show: The world building, Genya, Jesper, Inej, Mal was also cool and has such good vibes...Anyways, I was having a blast until the moment that I discovered the darkling was “bad”

I get it.

The guy hid Alina’s letters, lied to her about his plans, played the victim AND put a collar on her (very gross) (All bad things).

But the more that I thought about it, the more that I could kinda see his point.

Let me explain:

1) The Grisha were killed, experimented and persecuted all over the other countries.

2) He personally saw I bunch of people that he cared about died (Luda)

3) Then he thought that if he won the *freaking war* for that king, the grisha would find safety (In episode 7, we clearly see that it didn’t go that way) I mean they tried to killed him because the idiotic king was scared of the darkling powers.

4) then he created the fold (by accident) but discovered that it can used as a weapon to protect his kind because what would happen if they destroy it? The show is clearly showing you that he can’t trust on the king.

If they destroy the fold, the grisha (and him) would lost all power that they have now as the second army. He knows that they would probably be persecuted *again*

So what is the solution?

If I was him, I would probably use it too. But bad communication skills dude. I mean you could just talk with Alina before you tried to slave her (?)

I just fell in love with the lovers to enemies dynamic of those two (I tell you the amount of fanfics that I had read about them in Archive of our own) 🤪😂 I like the dark and light symbolism.

The age gap really didn’t bother me (We are watching and reading fiction) NO ONE IN REAL LIFE IS GOING TO FIND A PERSON THAT IS 500 YEARS OLDER THAN YOU. In the show they tried to level the power of their dynamics much better than in the book. Jessie herself said it on a interview.

I actually like Mal (the Malina relationship doesn’t do much for ME personally. Maybe because I had always hated that trope. I mean I don’t hate them their friendship is wonderful, some of their scenes are cute...but man the codependency of those two, it is annoying).

I liked that Mal was such a charming guy willing to do everything for his best friend. I really feel that Alina didn’t deserve him. The poor guy lost almost everything for her. Archie did a fantastic job!

Now Alina....

Man I hate when the main character is whiny...

Woman...you have the most unique and coolest power *ever* they took you to a freaking palace, they fed you, trained you, told you that you literally can save the world....... and you spent all time thinking about about childhood friend (IF I HAVE TO SEE THAT FREAKING MEADOW SCENE AGAIN YOU GUYS) and complaining and whatever. The last episode and the gorgeous Jessie saved the character for me.

Then I took a break and decided to read the book just to see how different things are.... and boy, oh boy.

The darkling is much more calculated in the books (I mean the show version is a softy compared to the book version) (Ben Barnes thank you) I wonder if those changes were intentionally made (?) maybe they will change the ending (I doubt it, but fingers crossed)

I knew that people hated BookMal and... I get it BUT hear me out. Is NOT Mal’s fault is ALINA’S fault.

The poor guy is just a regular dumbass 16 years old trying to figure things out.

In the books Alina just keeps thinking about him and whining about him and it gets annoying pretty quickly. BookAlina 🙃🙃🙃

Anyways those were my thoughts...

I just needed it to put it out there and get it out of my system.

Now I’m not sure that I want to read the second book. What do you say? Should I read it?

If Alina is going to keep whining about Mal is not for me...but I really want to read six of crows and apparently need to read the trilogy first.

Please be kind, if you don’t like my opinion you are welcome to share why but (kindly and respectfully)

Thank you.

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traumatizeddfox · 3 years ago

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Borderliner here again! Glad if I could help even a little bit.

DBT was specifically developed for BPD if I remember correctly but I know we used CBT in the clinic too. It's funny bc although the clinic was equally as bad as it was good and it helped me and revealed a lot about me to myself. So although I'm not typical borderline bc I act in instead of out, I know for sure I'm quiet borderline.

Nonetheless every therapist I've went to introductory sessions with since then has immediately said I've been misdiagnosed after like 10 seconds of talking to me 🙃 either that or you just never even get to be added to the wait list bc they don't wanna treat you

But that's why we gotta all support each other!!

Anyway. I decided to go for a therapy trial with a trauma therapist that I was lucky enough to get (after lots of panicking over the multiple phone calls it took, and panic now about rescheduling and shit). So that starts in February. And we're starting out with secondary trauma bc my parents passed down their trauma to be (they're genocide refugees, and I have been back to the country and stayed there a lot in post-war times) and it has in the past caused almost psychotic states. I'm afraid it might trigger even worse panic over my parents bc they already make me feel unsafe (they're a big reason I have been self harming for 15 years now - and when I went to them during a full day break down/panic attack and told them I need help they just stared at me blankly. I could literally only shake and cry and think about how I'm about to kill myself without any control over myself all day and they literally told me "just finish the next 4 weeks of school and then we can all go on vacation" - and in my dreams my parents have tried to feed me to dinosaurs bc that's how it has to be, they've been he reason my cat almost died and got his leg ripped off, they watched my face get eaten alive by giant worms and told me it was my own fault (again all dreams) ). I still live with my parents. I'm still mostly submissive to them and I'm afraid.

But also I cant not do therapy bc I'm so fucking tired. No meds stop my nightmares. I dream of rape, war, violence, killing, running for my life, wounds, break downs, sobbing, my house being broken into, being shot at, fires all around, kids being abused in different ways, like every single night. It's just as torturous as being awake and I'm really trying to not use my secret stash for suicide plans so like I need this therapy

But... I'm so fucking terrified

In the bpd clinic I broke down and almost faint and developed migraines and had half my body go numb and useless - just when I was trying to stay present and acknowledge there was a problem. The therapist there had me bawling my eyes out bc he was like "say something good about yourself" and I legit couldn't. I had daily migraines for months. I actually have a job I like now (still in training tbh but it's with animals so it's really nice) but I'm so afraid I'm about to lose everything. It feels like I could get further if I got back into my bad regulating habits.

I'm trying so hard to do things right. I really am. But my mind and body betray me all the time and I'm so so scared

It's like no matter what I do there's no rest, no help, nothing right and good

I'm so sorry this turned into my whining lmao but uh yeah :(

I recently discovered your blog and I love it. I resonate with the rage and the dog teeth :D wanna get into vent art too eventually. If I can handle the emotion that is lol

i am so sorry to hear this angel 💔 i really hope life turns around for you & i hope the new therapist helps u! it sucks when you don’t feel validated. and tysm! vent art has helped me so much

#anon

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eurosong · 4 years ago

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Undo my ESC 2021 - Semi-final 1

Good afternoon, folks! Every year, I take a look at each semi-final and share what feasible change I would make – as small as changing a few lines of the song or an element of staging, or as big as a different song completely winning a national final – to make it even better (just in my own opinion of course!) This year will be harder than usual, but I’ll try to set aside my conviction that every 2020 artist should have been able to return to see how different SF1 might look. Let’s go!

🇱🇹 Lithuania: PiN was in the Roop's hands, and whilst I fell in love with some of the underdog songs they were up again, most notably Home and Never fall for you again I wouldn't take away the chance away from the Roop. There's nothing I'd change about Discoteque, and I love their nod to On fire, but the way that they also took things in a different direction to last time.

🇸🇮 Slovenia: I may be in a small minority, but I absolutely love Amen and I loved Voda too! Ana Soklič has so much presence and stunning vocals with so much texture and depth; she can sell me pretty much everything. My only change would be to insert Slovenian language lyrics!

🇷🇺 Russia: I was initially really disappointed that we wouldn't see the iconic Little Big on the ESC stage - but I commend the way they wanted to share the limelight with other artists. The unexpected Russian mini-NF ended up being a revelation and very diverse for its size. I liked all three songs, but I think that the best hands down won. There is nothing I have to change to Russian woman, one of the most powerful propositions of the season for me. I just hope juries will value it and we won't see a Telemóveis style situation!

🇸🇪 Sweden: After a year of being happy with the result in Sweden - I was always in Dotter's corner, but who can't love the Mamas? - we return to more familiar terrain of an MF result disgruntling me. Tusse has charisma and talent, but his song is lacklustre at best for me. My fav was, once again, Dotter, and I wish that either she'd taken the win or that the Mamas got their shot at ESC as main artists.

🇦🇺 Australia: I really enjoy Technicolour, one of the more out-of-left-field entries from Oz. I am so intrigued as to what the Diane Warren song offered to Montaigne was like, as I'm certain that this isn't it, but I'm glad she trusted her gut and went for something so distinctive. My one change would be to get rid of the unnecessary key change at the end.

🇲🇰 Macedonia: When there was a nationalistic furore with attempts to stop Vasil from representing MK, I was entirely on his side even though his song for me is one of the least appealing of the edition. I'd still want him to get his chance at ESC - but his Sudbina would have been such a more compelling entry for my taste.

🇮🇪 Ireland: Lesley Roy served nostalgic pop wonderment for the second year in a row, and another song that has etched itself already onto my life's soundtrack. I don't know what I'd change, except perhaps translate one of the choruses into Irish Gaelic - it'd make the message of a return to home even more resonant for me.

🇨🇾 Cyprus: Cyprus and I haven't seen eye to eye for several years now, and it's a shame as they were one of my favourite countries of the 90s. I do enjoy El diablo more than their last trio of songs, but I find it leans too heavy on a clear inspiration from Gaga, which takes away from some of the more original elements of the song. So, I'd rework the chorus, and also change some of the lyrics elsewhere because some lines just flat out make me cringe.

🇳🇴 Norway: I seem to have been in the minority of people delighted at MGP's final results! I had bigger favourites - the rambunctious sea shanty that is Vi er Norge, the kickass empowering Witch woods or the pulsating groove of Playing with fire - but I wouldn't take Tix' win away from him given how meaningful it was for him and what the guy has been through. My change? Revert partially or entirely to the Norwegian version, Ut av mørket; for me, it hits my heart harder.

🇭🇷 Croatia: Sincerely, my biggest disappointment of the NF season potentially - I wish Damir had been internally selected, not just because of my wish to see all ESC'20 alumni return, but because his was the best Croatian song for me since Moja štikla. Tick-tock is harmless but if we can't get a Damir return in this hypothesis, then I'd go for Rijeka, which captivated me with its epicness on first listen and has just risen in my estimation since. Though, given Nina's histrionics after coming second, maybe I'd have Albina perform the song instead.

🇧🇪 Belgium: I was prepared to not be on board with Belgium this year despite my long-lived love for the country - I found Release me, whilst orchestrated beautifully, entirely lacking in dynamism; and I really couldn't stand the way the band dumped Luka unceremoniously. And yet... this lush piece of art is one of my favs of the entire season. And there's something different and singular in Geike's voice. So the only thing I'm changing here are the dudes' attitudes to ESC so that they can value it more, especially Alex.

🇮🇱 Israël: As one of the most naturally charismatic performers of 2020, I had high hopes for Eden's return and the original idea of a mega-NF for her seemed really promising. Instead, we ended up with an uninspired strewing of songs, of which the best didn't even get the chance to be recorded by her. Set me free was my favourite of the three that got to the final, but I feel they've really worsened it with the revamp, in between the hail mary pass of the whistle vote and the extra emphasis on "I'mma". I would have Eden perform Shoulders instead - I don't know how it NQd and think it would allow her to showcase her personality a lot more.

🇷🇴 Romania: I really enjoyed Roxen's selection last year - small but quite diverse, and I felt the best song won. My change would be to have seen a similar national final with 3 or 4 other songs of hers this time, because I'm not convinced in Amnesia anywhere near as much as I was of Alcohol you.

🇦🇿 Azerbaijan: I wish they had gone with something at least a bit different rather than this cut, smudge and paste from last year that is so on the nose with its "you loved Cleopatra, so you will love this, won't you?" feel that it even namechecks the previous song. Efendi has a lot of talent and could have shown more diversity here.

🇺🇦 Ukraine: I'm getting used to the surprise revamp of Šum by now, but the question still remains for me, why did they do it? They needed to cut about a minute off the duration of the track, but to me, that doesn't explain why they also had to change the melody in large parts of the song. I'd be tempted to revert to a shortened form version of Šum version 1.

🇲🇹 Malta: Another unpopular opinion, but I'm just not that into the Maltese song this year. The lyrics are great and Destiny has poise and presence and PIPES and I'm sure she'll do well, but the style - a glammed up Electro-Velvet, essentially - doesn't heat me up, and I feel like the different parts of the composition are too dissonant from each other, like we have 2 or 3 songs in one here. My change would be for her to have gone with something more soul-ish in its sound, like AOML was.

And the AQs of this semi

🇩🇪 Germany: How did juries decide upon this, especially when there seems to have been many promising artists in the German selection? No shade against Jendrick who seems like a lovely chap, but the song sounds like the cheerful four chords on a ukulele you hear repeated as royalty free background music on Youtube tutorials, merged with a post-chorus breakdown taken from a Stefan Raab b-side. I would have gotten out my phone book and given Lilly among clouds a call - she gives me the vibes of being able to create something totally show-stopping.

🇳🇱 Netherlands: My original slight disappointment at this was more because of how high I have Grow than any fault of its own. It's another gorgeous composition from Jeangu, with probably the best set of lyrics of the year, and this is going to be a moment. I change nothing.

🇮🇹 Italy: I like Måneskin and their performances at Sanremo were brilliant - but they were far from being at the top of my favourites list. I would have given the win to Madame with Voce, or Ermal with Un milione di cose da dirti. Both would have been my #1 of the entire year, both move me deeply. Madame showcases contemporary Italian style with classic songwriting, whilst Ermal almost created a companion piece to Fai rumore - Diodato wanted to hear the sound of his loved one, whilst Ermal struggles to make a noise and say what he feels about his love.

Join me soon as I take a look at SF2 and its songs (and France, Spain and the UK, the auto-qualifiers from that semi!)

#eurovision 2021 #esc #eurovision #eurovison song contest #opinion #esc 2021

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 4 years ago

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I'm an Opportunistic Princess in Charge of Solving Things

People familiar with this blog will remember that my taste in manga and anime is impeccable, so here’s a manga recommendation for you.

I'm an Opportunistic Princess in Charge of Solving Things.

The title is the usual mouthful yes, and I’m also 99% sure it’s not so accurate compared to the actual content of the manga, but this? This is a hidden gem.

So, it’s the classic Otome Isekai Scenario, young Japanese woman who likes light novels and shit dies and gets reincarnated in a princess in a fantasy other world that oh so happens to be the one of her favourite videogame/manga/light novel, classic shit, but with a couple key difference.

1) First of, The main character is NOT reincarnated in either the heroine nor the villainess. She turns into a supporting character, the sister of the male lead crown prince who supports him in his love toward his lover almost to a fault, a prop big sister character literally just there to solve a couple plot holes and issues in the main plot and to function as exposition machine, think Monika’s archetypal role in Doki Doki Literature Club. She never finished the original story, but she’s sure she doesn’t have any sort of bad faith awaiting her, so she just lives her life as she sees fit with little care.

2) Another big thing is that the original story is also super Gay. The Kingdom in the other world has legalized for years gay marriage (Specifically between two men however, so I’m sot sure how we’re doing in terms of lesbians rights but IF THING GO LIKE I THINK THEY’LL GO GIVEN WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH THE FORESHADOWING, this will be a plot point later). The main character, male lead and villain are therefore all guys, and there is a major conflict within the court between two main factions, the gay nobles who get male spouses and adopt the children of their sisters or other female relatives as heirs, and the gay nobles who get female spouses to get biological heirs and then cheat on them with their male lovers. There is a third faction that is the Straights™ but they usually just go with the flow of things.

3) So, already two big things we don’t see, a gay universe, and a main female character that was literally just created as an incubator for the male lead’s heir. The main character is obviously not thrilled over living only so she can birth her brother’s heir with some random dude, but an heir to her brother is needed since the only two other people up for the throne are either her or her other bastard brother who cherishes her. Her bastard brother is a bastard born from the king, who is otherwise happily married with another man, getting a random noblewoman pregnant at a party, so he is not well seen by either the court or the king, while she is a woman, and she can’t do much about it either because the main religion in the country is incredibly misogynistic, which means queens are incredibly rare events and are instantly despised by all social classes and the gods and shit.

4) So, we’re getting somewhere already really interesting here, a deconstruction of the Fujoshi genre, and how such a virulent setting both damages the male characters its fetishizing AND the female character readers might one day reincarnate as when they finally met their one true love Truck-Kun, but that’s not the REAL sell of the manga. No, the main sell of the manga is that the main character is... Well, is great.

5) Think Bakarina from Hamefura. She is a villainess who becomes self aware without even realizing it turns into the heroine who everyone loves, because she might be a dummy but her heart is big and all. Imagine the complete opposite. A good supporting character, a good person beloved by the other characters for her useful role in the story and to their relationship, who also becomes self aware and, in turn, without even realizing it, without even knowing it... turns into a Villainess. Just because she is NOT self aware, just because she is naive enough to COMPLETELY MISS several social and cultural cues in her court life.

6) It’s amazing to watch really. She gets tired of her hard white fan, the one used by the original character in the novel, so she orders a black one commissioned with a specific, incredibly fluffy bird’s feathers, without even realizing the COUNTLESS messages she is sending just by doing that. Black Birds are sacred to the Goddess of the Underworld, only Goddess in the main religion who is antagonistic toward the Sky Father, the main god who hates queen, so her getting a black fan is suddenly a declaration of something. Does she want to become queen, especially given her desire not to birth a heir for her brother like she is expected to do? Is she planning something different? Someone asks her and she tries to do both a straightforward and a roundabout answer because she is still a princess and understands the need for subtlety except the way she phrases it as she smiles takes on sinister tones so the one who is talking with her is getting a completely different idea of what she’s saying.

7) The main plot is her trying to get out of the whole “birth a heir for your brother” scenario so she is claiming that she has a lover except she doesn’t so she has to find a FAKE lover in a kingdom where a good quantity of it’s men happen to be gay and as she does so she just fucking... ends up creating a misunderstanding after the other which is INCREDIBLE to watch because at the same time she is being attended by this one cool, brooding and mysterious dark knight who literally makes a blood oath with her to serve her as her knight and she as his mistress and she COMPLETELY misses the subtext and when she does get it she just assumes she must have understood wrong since almost everyone she knows is gay yet HERE SHE IS, looking SUSPICIOUS AS FUCK as she favours this one knight as her bodyguard who also happens to be A WHOLE BAG OF NEW SIGNALS she is inadvertently giving the court and the other nobles because he’s a war criminal whose’s ancestors used to rebel against the crown but at the same time she is pretty much keeping him on a leash so MIGHT HE BE this secret lover we’ve been hearing about?

8) It’s like seeing 4D chess between 5 player and then there’s a sixth player in the board controlling only one Queen Piece and a Knight Piece who barely understands the game so she just barrels along on the board using the BAREST hint of subtlety yet all other players thinks she is this amazing chess player and a master manipulator so they take all her moves as some sort of 4D chess match within their own 4D chess match as everyone overthinks what the fuck is happening except for her, who is also overthinking it but on a completely different level which means that she’ll probably end up coming up on top for some reason.

9) Great Manga if still pretty new, barely at chapter 11 still, can only recommend. It’s very... Persephone coded but in the sense of the concept of Persephone as Dread Queen of the Underworld whose name can’t be spoken otherwise you might garner her attention and that’s terrifying while also happening to be a pastel goth goddess of flowers to the side.

#I'm an opportunistic princess in charge of solving things #manga #isekai #otome #otome villainess

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sadoeuphemist · 5 years ago

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YouTube Rewind 2028: Back From The Brink | #YouTubeRewind

unpossiblr 4 years ago

Is anyone else still out there? I figure I should post this here because, well, youtube’s still running, isn’t it? There’s got to be someone out there, the engineers or technicians or whatever, whoever you are who’s seeing this. This is crazy, all the lights on, all the videos still playing, and yet it’s so quiet. The trending bar’s on the fritz, I think. Videos with zero views surfacing over and over again, the last ones uploaded before the end. I haven’t watched any of them. I don’t want to. But I’m alive. I don’t know why I’m still alive but I am. And you’re alive too. Whoever’s reading this. Where are you? Please, just contact me somehow. I’ll be refreshing the comments on this video. If you’re out there just say something. I’m all alone. I’m scared.

unpossiblr 4 years ago

hello? Is anyone else out there? Is anyone else seeing this? The servers have to be up, which means that there’s got to be someone maintaining them. I don’t know if you can see the screen, or if my comments here are just a blip of energy or a light going off or whatever, but you’ve got to see this. Anyone. Just a sign, anything. I’ve been exploring, and there’s no one, no one. I think we may be the only ones left.

unpossiblr 4 years ago

I’m still here.

unpossiblr 4 years ago

I’m still here, and you are too. Say something. Comment. Give me a goddamn like. Or dislike! Make the numbers change. Increment a counter somewhere. I’ve scavenged food. I have shelter. if we can meet up I can help you. Or if we can’t meet up, we can trade info, we can help each other.

We can not be so alone.

unpossiblr 3 years ago

I’m still here. I am leaving a mark. if anyone sees this in the future, contact me. I’m still listening.

unpossiblr 3 years ago

please

DOOMSDAY PREPPERS: 10 Urban Survival Hacks

unpossiblr 3 years ago

bookmarking for future use

A World Without People | Ahrman Dijkgraaf | TEDxKlagenfurt

unpossiblr 3 years ago

bookmark

POST-APOCALYPSE COOKING CHALLENGE | Can we make something edible with canned CHEESE??

unpossiblr 3 years ago

bookmark

unpossiblr 3 years ago

fucking bullshit

ASMR MUKBANG with LEXIE | Spicy Noodle & Grilled Squid

unpossiblr 3 years ago

I guess I should be leaving comments on these videos, just in case someone else stumbles onto them? Leave a mark. This is a fucking terrible one to start on, but whatever. I haven’t seen anyone else in months, so what if I want to watch someone enjoying a goddamn meal? We eat together, me out of my cans and her in that nicely lit room with all the plates of food laid out so that i can almost smell them and her cute little chopsticks. What, you’re going to fucking judge me for that? Hell, bring it on. Judge me for it all you like, sure. It’ll be an icebreaker, at least.

North Tacoma County Instructional Video on Working with Energized Power Lines

unpossiblr 3 years ago

I was here.

PTSD and Holistic Qi Gong Meditation Rituals for Recovery and Stress Reduction

unpossiblr 3 years ago

I was here.

The 10 Most Breathtaking Places In The World

unpossiblr 3 years ago

It’s here. It’s just all here. All the videos ever uploaded to youtube. Millions of them. Billions. Every place, every country in the world. All the people. No new videos, no new views but mine, and yet it’s all here, pristine, preserved, while everything else rots away. And as long as I can siphon enough gasoline to keep my generator running, it’s mine, all of it. Everything else has gone to shit. But not this. Not this.

Anti-War Hysteria EXPOSES Liberals’ Scorn For Human Resilience, They Don’t Think We Can Win

unpossiblr 3 years ago

you fucking piece of shit. How’d that chest-thumping go for you, huh? How’d you die? I hope you died scared shitless. I hope you watched all your family die before you, i hope you watched their skin melt away and while they were dying they knew it was your fault and that you couldn’t save them. Fuck you and every sub-literate hooting troglodyte fan of yours who took us right up to the brink and pushed us over

unpossiblr 3 years ago

@catullus-rex fuck you

unpossiblr 3 years ago

@HorganWoosley how’d you die, huh? I hope it was painful. big guy, big tough guy. you weren’t immune to radiation, were you?

unpossiblr 3 years ago

@ThatGuyWithTheTopHat did you remember making this comment when you died? Did it flash before your eyes? I hope it was the last thing you remembered, i hope it was all you could think about, what a miserable wrong idiot failure you were, how your entire life was a miserable example of humanity marching off a cliff

unpossiblr 3 years ago

@QD99419 go to hell

unpossiblr 3 years ago

@TheSkepticalGamer who’s alive now, huh? and you’re rotting. you’re dead. you’re meat. I hope you’re one of the bodies I had to drag out of the corridors with your eyeballs burned out like that. you’re stinking rotting meat

fuck you

fuck you all

Ruin Of The Stars - Part 127 | We Meet Our Maker (END)

unpossiblr 2 years ago

I’ve got to tell you man, I’ve watched maybe twenty different let’s plays of this by now, and you’re the only person I’ve ever seen to get the ‘apotheosis’ ending with Nadezhda. I didn’t even know it was possible. That’s the depth of this game, it’s such an underappreciated classic, that even in disintegrating systems of entropy it’s still possible to ‘save’ everyone, if only for a moment, if only in that split-second before you have to cut the tether and let go. That was some real emotion, man, and I’m glad I got to experience this with you. You should really check out wobbletuffet’s let’s play of this, it really diverges from yours, how she deals with the bush crawlers may surprise you!

PRO vs GRANDMA: Chicken Noodle Soup | The Yum Chums

unpossiblr 2 years ago

@jenny-garland lmao you’re right how’s anyone supposed to beat granny’s recipe!

unpossiblr 2 years ago

@fobby-bray just like my nana used to make :)

Cozy Dinner for Two at an Italian Restaurant [ASMR]

unpossiblr 2 years ago

My day was actually pretty good, thanks for asking. I found a new cache of canned goods, altho I had to fight off like a feral dog or something to get it. I don’t know what it was for sure, it’s hard to tell when their skin is sloughing off like that. Don’t know how they’re still alive, or how they survived when no one else did - Or maybe they’re not dogs at all, just something else ...

But sorry, yeah, I don’t want to get into work here. This place is lovely. The music, the atmosphere, the ... everything. I love it here. I love our date nights together. Mm. The food’s great. I love it here, just being with you.

unpossiblr 2 years ago

This is so stupid. I just keep coming back to this one video, to our date at Il Fresco, because I can see what’s happening. We’re running out of videos. There’s three more, and that’s it. That’s all you made. That’s all you ever uploaded when you were alive.

And - that’s it. I know you’re dead, I know everyone’s dead. And I could just start again, if I wanted, rewind to the beginning or pick and choose, relive those moments that have faded in my mind, because really they’re preserved forever now. They’re immortal. And I thought - there are millions of videos on youtube. Billions. More than I could ever watch in a lifetime. It’s a world, of which I could only ever experience the smallest part of it. And if I run out of someone’s uploads, well - people die. People die in real life. They are dead in real life. And all I can do is know them, the smallest part of them, for a little while. While they’re here. While it lasts. And I thought - it’s all the videos on youtube. More than I could ever watch. And I really thought I’d be all right.

But there are three videos left, Lexie. And I keep looking at them, the last three, the last three there’ll ever be. And I’m terrified you’re going to die, Lexie. And i don’t know what to do.

Spa Date! [ASMR]

unpossiblr 2 years ago

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I did this. Lexie, you’re dead. And you could have lived forever, all of you, preserved together somehow in this beautiful hall of mirrors that never dies or fades, but I kept watching. It’s the last video you ever made. Will ever make. And you’re dead for real now. Dead for good. Never coming back. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sorry Lexie. RIP. Rest in peace. Rest in peace. Rest in peace.

this is the END OF THE WORLD as in Revelations pray for us pray for all humanity

unpossiblr 1 year ago

god why did i watch this. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

Are We In Hell? // Ask a Satanist

unpossiblr 11 months ago

bookmark

Awww - So Adorable! ♡ Fun and Happy Cutest Baby Animal Compilations of 2028 ♡ | Cute Baby Animals #3

unpossiblr 8 months ago

bookmark

Radiation Poisoning: Symptoms, Causes, Diagnosis, Treatment

unpossiblr 5 months ago

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckohfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

fuck me

fuck

Parents and Children React(TM) to Make-A-Wish (Kids with life-threatening illnesses)

unpossiblr 5 months ago

it’ll be okay

it’s just one moment of carelessness, all these fucking years alone and I fuck up once, but it’ll be okay

look how stupid this is and ludicrous and beautiful. it’s a miracle. that everything else died and Youtube, Youtube of all things survived. inexplicably. for no reason. just like me.

and now I’m dying and this is humanity, you know? Youtube. All of it. all that’s left. millions, billions of videos, maybe longer than the lifetime of human civilization, all stacked end to end. more than I could see. more than I could have ever seen. and now I’m throwing up on myself constantly and i can’t eat and my teeth are falling out and i’m going to die and be the worms in the earth, and there’ll just be all these stupid beautiful ludicrous videos playing forever, as a monument to humanity.

it’s okay. we survived. it’s a fucking miracle, but here we are

here we are. all of us. yes.

lofi hip hop radio - beats to sleep/relax to

unpossiblr 5 months ago

can’t even get out of bed anymore. vision’s blurring. it’s okay. it’s okay. just go to sleep and never wake up.

it’s fine, you know that? it’s fine. they’re all immortal, all of them, lexie and maximillian beers and goofyfruit and the yum chums and bombadour and the kids and their parents and grandma with her chicken noodle soup and all of them, everyone i ever loved, all the videos flickering cheerily through their windowed screens

it’s like the world never ended. and i mean that. it almost is. i can loll my neck around and look at the shadows creeping up on the wall and pretend im in my room with my computer and outside the room everything’s going on as normal, has been, for these past four years. they’re still making asmr videos and eating korean bbq and playing video games and building new machines and cooking and having kids and moving to their new studios and living their lives, and i was around for a little while to witness it

the world never ended, you know? it’s just me all alone in here as it gets dark, and everyone, everywhere else.

👍 1

#fiction #ask to tag

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iammarylastar · 4 years ago

Text

9. FAREWELL

"So, you're leaving without saying goodbye?"

She said, her voice like a ghost.

Shit.

Cal leaned his hand on the door frame, his forehead followed and he closed his eyes. He could feel Jess trembling behind his back, he could foresee her face soaked in tears, her sobs stuck in her chest.

Shit.

Leaving her was the hardest thing he had ever done, he doubted he could gather the strength to walk out the door, but now she was awake, crying, he knew it would be impossible.

Yet, he had to.

"Chris?" She begged.

He had planned everything, every little detail, like he already had, to break Oyster out.

He got all his stuff ready: a car fueled up, the maps with all the secondary roads highlighted, 4 different options to cross the Canadian border. His backpack, enough military rations to survive for 2 weeks, in case he'd have to ditch the car and cover the distance by foot. A compass. An extra pair of trekking shoes, just in case. Water. Lighter. Headlamp. Emergency kit. US dollars. Canadian dollars.

No phone.

No pics, not even one of Jessica. He wouldn't risk to get caught and have her involved. Beside it would be too painful to look at her beautiful face. Dealing with her memory would be hard enough.

But he had no choice. More than 3 years he hadn't see his brother. 3 fucking long years he hadn't heard his voice. Teddy, his little brother, the reason he had kept living after their mom died, the one he had fought for. And kept fighting for.

He'd all planned in his head, playing every scenario again and again at night, all those sleepless nights, Jess cuddled against his chest. Looking blankly at the ceiling, on the hunt for what could happen, what could turn wrong, and come what may: keep walking.

Until he reaches Lac-Sainte-Marie, Quebec, 260 miles from here. Until he meets his brother again.

"Chris!" She yelped, like she was drowning.

For a millisecond, he thought he could just give up: forget his little ass of a brother, forget his oath to his mother, forget his responsibilities, drop on his knees and beg Jess to marry him, give her 3 kids, get a pet and live happily ever after. Why not? He deserved a little of happiness, didn't he?

"What is happening?" she whispered, her voice torn by sobs, like stabs in his back.

What the fuck was happening, good question. He was happening. That fucking deceiving Cal was freaking out and ruining everything again. Like it was meant to be.

Like he was meant to screw up every chance of happiness.

"I have to see him. Jess, he got back in touch with me. Those postcards. There must be a reason." He said under his breath, not daring to glance at her.

"Chris, you're still in probation! A single step out of the State and you're in parole violation! You're going to get caught and thrown into jail again!" She knew this argument wouldn't work with him, but she was a lawyer, well almost, she had to plead for her case.

"I know..." Chris whispered. The next words would be excruciating to pronounce.

"That's why I won't come back..."

"Noooo!" She totally broke down.

As he listened to her heart shattering into pieces, taking his own heart down, he couldn't help thinking about time.

It took her days to tame his fears, weeks to heal him for his trauma, months to forge deep, trustful ties between their hearts.

Ties they both thought were unbreakable.

And as it took a heartbeat to fall in love with her, he'd been quick to break her heart.

Now he was running out of time. With her. For Oyster. Fuck.

"At least wait for your probation period to be over! You'll be a free man and you could go wherever you want!" She begged.

Like he didn't know. Like he hadn't spent the last days counting how many days it would take to be reunited. Like he hadn't thought of it from top to bottom. Like he hadn't been obsessed and torn about that fucking choice he had to make.

"Three more years! Jess, I can't leave him alone for 3 more fucking years! He needs me!" He let his anger flow out of his chest.

"What about me????" She thundered, gripping her nightie where her heart ached, then pointing a furious index finger out.

"He's not a kid anymore! He made his choice! You don't owe him anything anymore! When are you going to start thinking about yourself? About us?"

Touché.

Cal wavered at her words. The more she spoke, the more his determination weakened. He had no choice but cling to his same old song.

"I'm his legal guardian, I promised mom I'd take care of him. I can't break my oath. Not again..."

It would have been easier if Chris was the selfish type. But he didn't choose Marine corps and law enforcement by mistake. He was a man of principle, loyal, honest, trustful. A man with Semper Fidelis inked in his flesh forever.

"Chris!!" Jess was burning with rage and desperation. She was fed up with his sempiternal lame excuses.

She would have slapped his face full force if she could have moved, again and again until he got it, but violence never fixed anything, she was dead certain of this.

Chris’ childhood to adulthood, his former job in the Marine corps, his time in jail, his whole damn life had been nothing but violence, he deserved better from her.

She breathed in and out slowly to calm her nerves down and regain control of her thoughts.

Give him what he needs, that's the only way...

"You're strong Chris. You're a good man! Why can't you see it?"

Cal shook his head, tears threatening again behind his lids.

"I failed. I failed to keep my mom alive. I failed to protect my brother. To serve my country... To make you happy. I don't deserve you..."

"When are you going to stop punishing yourself for things, you're not responsible for? Jesus, your mom died, who's to blame? Not you! You struggled to provide for your brother though you were barely an adult, Chris, you did your best! Oyster made some bad choices, his choices, he fucked up but it was not your fault!"

Gone his sweetheart of a girlfriend, he was facing a new, fierce, unstoppable soldier ready for anything for her love.

Anything. Maybe, even ready to throw everything away for him.

Cal slowly extended his hand to a trembling Jess. This gesture was a dangerous step back, he had promised himself not to touch her, not to smell her nor to get too close. No way he could leave this place without her if their hands were linked.

Jess nearly jumped forward to take it, intertwined her fingers so tightly with his, their knuckles turned white. She closed her other hand over their clasped ones, then pulled them against her cheek, nuzzling against the slightest piece of his skin she could.

The contact of her skin against his made him jolt. His plea slipped through his lips before his brain realized their impact.

"Come with me. I hate to put that on you but... Jess, come with me. I don't want to lose you..."

His words were like slaps in her face. Her jaw dropped down and the look she threw at him slapped him back.

Shit.

She thought she had won. She thought he had heard her words. She thought he would stay. Why would he have offered his hand otherwise?

"Wh..? But... Cal, what are you doing?"

"Come with me Jessica. Let's start a new life in Canada. I love you. I love you!"

His turn to wrap his hand around hers and pull her closer, so his gaze pierced hers, his taut body hovering over her. This could fix everything.

Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!!

Jessica froze in shock, her pupils widened. She would have left all she had behind to follow him. The solution was easy: just go with him!

Just go with him, and become an outlaw. Say goodbye to your family, your career, your dreams, your life. On the run forever with the man she loved. With no future but hiding and lying.

"And you saved your first 'I love you' for the day you leave me..." Jess whispered under her breath, defeated. He killed her hope the second before, and kept doing an excellent job to trample on her heart.

Her whole body slumped down; Cal had to tighten his grip on her hands to get her upright.

Her pale complexion and her trembling voice made her look like a ghost.

"No. I can't. You can't... do that. You can't drag me into a runaway and make me a fugitive. I... I'm... My family is here, my career is here, my life is here... with you!

If you really love me, STAY!"

Chris wobbled, his knees weak under him. She was right, he knew it. He was wrong, doing all wrong, as he always had done. Jessica saw her chance in his hesitation, and played her last card. Faithfulness, Chris' obsession.

"That's not what you promised me. Chris, you promised me..." she burst into tears again, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline. Their love was like the Titanic, they thought it beautiful and in submersible, but it was irremediably sinking in the middle of nowhere and will end up broken shipwreck.

Hold on Rose, you have a chance.

Sorry Jack, you're screwed.

Shit.

He promised her, that day he talked his heart out, in the wee hours of a beautiful day, lying in bed, slowly brushing her delicate face with his fingertips. That day he told her about his plans for the future, their future. Openly daydreaming of his will to marry her, build her a house, have kids with her, three he said, if she agreed. Plus, a dog. One day, he promised, when she would graduate and he would have a better job.

He solemnly promised her to make her happy, happy ever after.

"You deserve to be happy, Chris. We've been so happy together. For fuck sake, why couldn't we just be happy?"

Because happiness is not meant for me.

"Jess, I miss him so much... I have no choice."

"There's always a choice... Let me help!" She begged a last time, squeezing his hands even tightly.

Chris closed his eyes, his sigh shaky through his tight throat. Just do it. Say it.

Now.

"No. Not this time... Let me go, Jess, please..." Chris grudgingly untied their fingers but Jess kept gripping at him, his wrists, his arms, his hoodie. He patiently unhooked each of her attempt, gently but firmly holding her wrists together.

It was so hard, Jesus, to see her face, desperate and drowned in tears, to hear a plea, to hurt her so deeply. But it had to be done. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

"No, no, no, no, Chris, please, nooo!" She begged, she would have given anything, everything to have him think, find another way, change his fucking mind. To have him stay. Choose her.

All her expectations vanished when Cal took her hands in his large palms, bent to kiss them but just leant his forehead on them, shaken by both their sobs and cries. He knew he couldn't leave if his lips touched her skin again. She knew it too.

Slowly, too slowly, he extended his arms until her fists laid on her chest, her fingers writhing in pain, and stepped back. Unable to look a last time in her eyes, Cal turned his heels and grabbed the doorknob.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

He froze, like punched in his guts.

"What?" His world collapsed. He had all the scenarios figured out, even the worst, but not this one.

He had made love to her earlier that night, knowing it'd be the last time. He made it last long, savoring each second with her, kissing each piece of her body, learning each of her curves by heart with his fingertips. He made it sensual, passionate, beautiful. He had given her all, all of him.

He had laid on his back for hours, his love cuddled on his side, her arms around his chest, like to keep him from running away. Like she felt it.

He had stayed like this forever, staring at the ceiling, listening to her deep breathing, feeling her, smelling her, until he was drunk from her.

"I said, what if I'm pregnant." She stated again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Are you?" He blankly asked.

She might be. From tonight.

She could be. They've been careless for a couple of weeks, their desire so strong they skipped to put a condom on. They both silently agreed, since they had a talk about it: they wanted to spend their lives together and grow a family, one day or another...

Jess had tried the pill, but it hadn't fit her. She tried 3 different brands but every time something went wrong. Cal hated seeing her with cramps or moody and IUD was a big no no due to her young age, so he decided to take the responsibility of the birth control, and simply pulled out at the right time.

Which was, according to Jess, like a firework without the final. Several times, half of the time in fact, she trapped Cal between her legs so he came inside of her. She found it so sexy and powerful.

Sexy but likely give rise to a baby.

Their baby. His.

"You won't stay for me. Would you stay for your child?"

Bitch. She knew how push his button, where it hurt the most. Given what he was doing to her, it was fair.

His guts twisted painfully and nausea invaded his throat at the thought. His deepest nightmare resurfaced: a kid with no father to take care of them, ruffle their hair, tickle them until they're breathless from laughing, play football with them, hug them tight when they're scared or sad. A kid with no dad to love them. A kid like he'd been, grown up before his childhood even had started.

A missing father. That was what he would become if he left now. The worst of the worst. A man he promised himself to never be. Fucking never hurt someone like he'd been hurt.

He unsuccessfully was trying to clear his mind from sadness and anger to redo his math and remember when was her last period. Calculate the odds of a pregnancy. Rate his chance to stay.

Zero.

He sucked. He wasn’t worth anything.

Maybe living was the best he could do to save this child from himself. He was no better father than his own, unable to make a good decision.

Chris dropped his head, his hands tightened in fists, his eyes closed in a frown. He stopped breathing for a long time, until he made his decision.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, grabbing the doorknob.

That was it. She couldn't go, he couldn't stay. I guess that's just the way the story goes.

Such a waste.

Chris pushed the door open, wiped his tears with his sleeve and walked out, without a last glance at her.

#jai courtney #semper fi #fanfiction

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mightydragoon · 5 years ago

Text

Suitless Vader and Luke Fic Recommendations

@silvereddaye Hey you asked for it.

1. Sent Out for Safety - Chapter 1 - throwawayflames - Star W...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659655/chapters/54159751

At the age of eight, Luke Skywalker and his sister, Leia, are split up for their safety. Leia stays with their Uncle Ben, and their mother, to learn how to be a Jedi. Luke, on the other hand, is sent to the Organa's, where he will pretend to be their adoptive son who was orphaned. Ben had only given Luke one rule to live by while he was away from his family, don't tell anyone his last name, and he followed that.

It wasn't his fault that Darth Vader sensed that he was a Force Sensitive and now he wants to train him, as a Jedi no less. That's the complete opposite of what Ben had told Luke. And after asking Darth Vader about his dad, Luke can't help but say yes to Darth Vader training him. After all, Luke's always wanted to be a Jedi like his father.

2. Another Empire - Theace1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14666787/chapters/33883572

Another Empire - Chapter 1 - Theace1 - Star Wars - All Med...

The Battle of Yavin had a surprising outcome with the death of Emperor Palpatine. Luke Skywalker's confrontation on Bespin has a much different outcome in the AU story, meeting someone he never expected to see: The Empress Vader.

3. Oceans Across- planningconquest

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176468/chapters/35194499

Oceans Across - Chapter 1 - planningconquest - Star Wars -...

Star Wars on the high seas! Doesn't get more simple than that.

4. Burning Mother planningconquest

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952459/chapters/27024234

Burning Mother - Chapter 1 - planningconquest - Star Wars ...

A Jedi Luke emerges onto the galactic scene over a decade after the Jedi temple burned. Joining with Cassian Andor, rebel spy, they attempt to return to the Rebellion to attempt to full fill his destiny as the Chosen One. Sidetracked by pirates, farmers, and blind monks. All the while hunted by a vengeful Lady Vader who would see the young Jedi dead with the rest of his Order.

5. Dynasty Valerie_Vancollie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111908/chapters/29997507

Dynasty - Chapter 1 - Valerie_Vancollie - Star Wars - All ...

Hit in the leg by a stormtrooper's blaster bolt, Luke falls in the Death Star hanger bay and is unable to escape on the Falcon along with Han and Leia. During the subsequent interrogation, his true heritage is revealed and Vader instantly takes him to Coruscant, determined to reclaim the son the Jedi stole from him. But the glory of the Imperial capital belies its true nature, where politics and power are everything and anything is fair game in the never ending game to reach the top. Not lying, not betrayal, assassination, sabotage, blackmail, nor seduction. As he commences his Sith training, Luke must also learn the rules and etiquette of the Imperial Court if he is to survive as most of his enemies fight their battles with words and political maneuverings rather than military force. Yet, even as he struggles to gain his place within the Empire, Luke learns that his best friend has joined the Alliance...

6. Possibilities of If May Be Valerie_Vancollie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946578

Possibilities of If May Be - Valerie_Vancollie - Star Wars...

Co-authored by Selinthia Avenchesca.

What if two different Star Wars realities started to merge?

7. We are all in the gutterarcticapple

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070698/chapters/16072126

We are all in the gutter - Chapter 1 - arcticapple - Star ...

Vader gets caught by the Rebellion and eight years old Luke gets tossed into the mix. Observe and discuss.

8. new cornerstone: a reconstruction mandalorianed ( Private)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308523

When Luke had imagined finding out who his parents were, he had never imagined this.

9. Revenge Leads to Karma, and Karma Bites Darikiema

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9055873/chapters/20601586

Darth Vader created them for his revenge; the clones of Obi-Wan Kenobi were his to torture and kill. But when something goes wrong and one of them isn't grown before being released from the pod, he's met with a dilemma that could change the face of the Galaxy.

Or:

Karma sucks and if Darth Vader ever meets her, he's going punch her in her damn face.

10. The Reckoning. SpaceTrashCanFan (Sketchandcomicbookperson)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597067/chapters/51495820

After Darth Vader goes missing after an failed attempt to assassinate the emperor, he was presumed to be dead.

Years later, a few Jedi and a child show up at the front door of the rebellion with an mysterious defector in tow. And they have big plans...

11. Bright Binary sunset in Dark Times SpaceTrashCanFan (Sketchandcomicbookperson)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19711126/chapters/46648030

A.k.a Vader got frozen in Carbonite, somehow.

-------

Since Vader went missing, years ago somewhere in the outer rim...when Leia was very young (5 years) . Leia Organa gets years later when she was seventeen a bodyguard assigned to her after an attempt on her. Normally, she would protest.

But this man is not like the others. Something that was eating him and her parents were keeping a secret. Wielding a weapon of a Jedi... Using the Force and having secret meetings with spies and her father..

Leia is determined to find out what is going on and discovers how her bodyguard is a reformed Sith-Lord who went missing several years ago.

12. Tumblr Prompts KaelinaLovesLomaris

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179176/chapters/20834479

A collection of unrelated Star Wars ficlets, from tumblr prompts. New "chapters" will be added as I get new prompts, and I'll update tags as I go too. Almost all of these revolve around Luke and Vader's father-son relationship, aside from the first few.

13. No Distance Far Enough KaelinaLovesLomaris

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549516#main

Imperial Prince Luke Skywalker is kidnapped by the Rebellion. His father is not happy.

14. Those Who Walk The Paths Of The Sky (Must Learn To Fly) antebunny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771092/chapters/31651179

In which Leia is seven when her only friend Dijan dies. Her grief tears apart the shields Obi-Wan Kenobi put up on her mind to hide her adeptness with the Force, and is felt by two other residents in the galaxy: her father and her brother.

Or: The Skywalkers have a mental conversation from opposite sides of the galaxy because they're Skywalkers.

It also changes the course of the galaxy, but that's just to be expected.

EDIT: the second work is all part of this work!

15. Those Who Walk Series antebunny

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1176827

Skywalker family fluff.

16. Those Who Walk The Paths Of The Sky (Must Learn To Fly) II --antebunny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779084/chapters/31673112

Sequel to Those Who Walk The Paths Of The Sky (Must Learn To Fly), because there are still a lot of things that need to happen. But they're Skywalkers, so it has to be dramatic as possible. Including old friends, Organa Family Drama, Skywalker Shenanigans, and Hutts. Also, don't mind Obi-Wan. He's busy moping.

EDIT: THIS IS NOW ALL PART OF THE FIRST WORK

17. the shifting light of stars freefan1412

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20904197/chapters/49692206

Obi-Wan never needed to ask Padme for Anakin's location. That has consequences.

18. Fulfilling a Prophecy KianRai_Delcam (orphan_account)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466274/chapters/30871740

Qui-Gon's eyes are gentle when he replies, "Changing fate is not always best, Vader. Whatever happens is as the Force wills it to be." Vader scoffs, "I'm hardly a youngling to be lectured, Jedi. My knowledge of the Force is more complete than yours. You have not walked both sides of the Force as I have. The Force is neither an ally nor a slave, as the Jedi and Sith see it." After Darth Vader's death and Anakin's redemption on the second Death Star, both Luke Skywalker and Vader are more than surprised when they find themselves alive on Coruscant in the Jedi Temple. Of course, Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi are a bit perplexed as well. Follow the Chosen One and company as they journey across the galaxy once more, discovering their true selves and fulfilling a prophecy as it was meant to be. Fic takes place over a few years, and may possibly go into the Clone Wars. Not just another time travel fix-it AU. You have been warned.

19. Cloak And Dagger dorenamryn

https://archiveofourown.org/series/613946

“...and those that endeavour to dissolve it [the Union of Great Britain], carry a dagger under the cloak of patriotism, to stab their country in the heart."

In which everything changes, but also nothing does. (aka: the one where Anakin Skywalker is a Jedi Knight pretending to be a Sith, Emperor Palpatine thinks he's won, Obi-Wan Kenobi thinks his best friend's betrayed him, and Leia Organa is stuck in the middle of it.)

20. The Good Temptation Sinclairchap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740410/chapters/10834520

The Force is out of Balance. Unfortunately, it's Chosen One has done little to fix this, and has even Turned to the Dark Side, furthering the Unbalance. The entities created directly by the Force, who guide those who use it, have decided he requires a nudge in the right direction. A rather large nudge.

But not everybody, or even the Chosen One himself, agrees with this plan.

(Previously titled "Path to Redemption")

21. Misguided Light Skylanian_Writer

:https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572396/chapters/10413042

Vader survived Mustafar unharmed, but believes everyone he holds dear is gone. Except his son, who he would do anything for, so long as Luke stayed by his father's side.

Padmé managed to survive childbirth, and lived to see everything she fought for be deystroyed. Except her daughter, who Padmé would die for in a heart beat.

Unfortunately, Luke and Leia are not willing to sit quietly as their parents fight a war. The twins actions shake the entire galaxy to its core.

The Force really hated the Skywalker family.

22. In the Past SilverDaye

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597682/chapters/38898149

It's been two months after Bespin, and Luke Skywalker is trying to come to terms with the events that happened there. During a dogfight with Darth Vader, both of their fighters crash. When they recover, they both find themselves on Coruscant at the end of the Clone Wars. Vader still aims to claim his son, but Luke has been taken to the Jedi Temple where he meets Anakin Skywalker.

23. Runaway SilverDaye

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630196/chapters/33813027

Imperial Prince Luke runs away from home to escape his overprotective father Emperor Vader. Jumping from planet to planet he finds himself creditless on Tatooine. While working for more money to leave the planet, Luke meets an old man named Ben Kenobi. But Luke knows he can't stay in one place for long for surely his father is hunting him down.

24. The Bargain SilverDaye

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13722573/chapters/31525827

Vader has killed off his master and claimed the throne as Galactic Emperor. Padmé has become an outspoken figure head and leader of the Rebellion. Vader captures his wife. Now she must figure out a way to be free for not only herself, but her children as well. She's fighting against Vader, who will stop at nothing and use anything means necessary to bring his family together.

#star wars #suitless vader #luke and vader #anakin and vader #luke skywalker #darth vader #anakin and luke #skywalker family drama #skywalker family #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #ah shit here we go again #vader and leia #anakin and leia

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medranochav · 4 years ago

Text

my moms been living with us for 4 months now. her stay was initially tolerable but is now triggering and I find myself regressing in a lot of ways. Her grief has evolved into torment and per her m.o. she'd like for her issues to take first priority. Except, my sis and I are grown now, and as a therapised household (literally we've all been in counseling, babies included) though we still lean on each other for support, we ultimately don't function codependently.

And beeecause that's not how we grew up, I think my mother is now having to contend with the reality that she has to do the emotional work of surviving her many traumas (and currently her many dramas) on her own. We support her but we can't fix it for her.

Currently, it's a crisis a day and she's spiraling into mini catastrophic states everytime. Which was sufferable at first because despite my labored support, I still maintained my boundaries and didn't adopt her distress as my own. The problem now is the increasing frequency with which these crying spells are taking place. Not to mention the fact that she's been doing so in front of the kids; something that would normally be acceptable because my sis and I make space for feelings (even our own) in our home. The difference being, we do so responsibly. We listen, we talk, give affection and/or space but always with the fundamental knowledge that our emotions belong to us individually and only we can be accountable for them. A gentle reminder that though part of a unit, they still have agency and accountability.

This interdependency makes way for a more compassionate exchange. Whenever they see us cry or be vunerable, the kids have the wherewithal to approach us without attaching themselves to our emotional circumstance. It's an empathy that perceives our emotional reactions as relatable but still not their responsibility. I've seen our work proven time and time again.

One example is when my sister's [redacted] died and the boys spotted her crying on the couch. Without being prompted, they approached her independently, commiserated, hugged and kissed her and shortly after went back to playing on their electronics. It was such a graceful display of emotional validation that demonstrated their love for her without sacrificing their own desires in doing so. Truly remarkable, that at ages 5-8 they maintained boundaries while still being there for their mom.

They're also there for one another but it's seldom a sinking ship. And when emotional support is rejected they respect that as well, without taking it personally [tbh that has more to do with concepts of mandatory consent that we impart on them, but as is evident, it applies. #intersectionality] It's an ongoing practice that I'm proud to be a part of, considering the kids have codependent figureheads in both their maternal and paternal families. WE'RE TRYING TO BREAK CYCLES HERE.

Yes, our home is a safe space for emotional processing but always leveraged with the emotional balance of self reliance, awareness and resiliency. The kids have proven to have the capacity for this and through teaching them, so do we.

It's human to have outbursts, but my mother's pattern is proving to be less intrinsic and more deliberate. She needs an audience in order to experience catharsis. A potentially reasonable behavior except for it's her only one. So it's imbalanced and seeks refuge in the reliance of our total empathy.

Furthermore she's disingenuous in her emotional performances. When approached out of concern, she responds with the proverbial, "I'm ok." Like, its subtle but super manipulative to say that, when we can CLEARLY see she's not. The kids see and hear her, the least she could do is not gaslight them. And I'm not saying her tactics are successful but it exposes the bby's to unnecessary dysfunction and covertly teaches them to assume the responsibility of communicating her emotion for her. She's also non verbal and unpredictable and tho not at her best rn [like, literally who is? this year has wrecked us all] she and we deserve proper communication.

The mind games are soul sucking and triggering for me in a way that is not for my sister. Though we share a mother, the repective versions of her that we experienced as children differ greatly.

My sister's the eldest and spent the first couple years of her life as the only child to a very young mother living alone in America after being displaced by the civil unrest in her native El Salvador. By age 3, with the addition of a new baby sister (my moms 2nd) she was sent to a country fully at war. My sisters would spend the next half decade of their lives in sunny wartorn tropics, watched over and raised by our family of four women. A blissful antithesis to their future with our mom. Upon the return to their forgotten country of origin (USA) and severed from the only family and community they've ever known, the girls were whisked away by a mother they barely remembered and a baby brother they had never met... marking the beginning of my mom's descent into single motherhood.

My mom resented having a brood of kids, namely her 2nd and 3rd, who's father was abusive and absent. Don't know much of the facts outside of what she would ritualistically berate my siblings about during her brutal tantrums -as if it were their fault they simply existed. The second born, my other sister, left home at 12 and has been estranged ever since and the third, my brother, has recently severed bonds abruptly claiming a new life with a woman he's known barely a year yet now calls wife. Proving that despite being raised by the same woman we all had different mothers.

Since my siblings endured a childhood with a volatile, violent woman who managed her emotions thru physical abuse... when she wasn't, she was neglectful of them, turning her attention onto me... the youngest (four years removed from the rest of the pack). I bore witness to said abuse until I was 5, when it was litigiously exposed, forcing her to abandon corporal punishment and rely solely on mental/emotional abuse. That's the version of my mom I got.

I was 10 when my sister left for college. Just my brother and I remained. Similarly to each other we both lived in service to our mother. Whereas his duties were more physically laborious, mine consisted of full on emotional labor. I spent most of my childhood navigating a homelife that was so saturated and occupied by my mother's opera of a life, that there was no room for my feelings, thoughts, desires or identity. I was her plaything, a person sans agency. My age and vulnerability proved advantagous when grooming me. I learned to behave in ways satisfactory to her needs. I was made to react to (and collect) her emotional distress, endorse her judgements of others, perform well in school as a testament to her rearing, and accept her violations of me as normal. I was a shackled spectator, whose own emotions were mere reflections of her dramatizations. I was tailored to be the MOST convenient. So I kept secrets and coped alone. I knew just enough abt myself to remain human but lacked the vision to actualize it. And because emotional abuse is so insidious in its indoctrination, I was really none the wiser until I too moved away years later.

I'm almost 30 now and I'm a mess. I can't establish enduring relationships, I'm fat, I'm broke, I'm debilitatingly avoidant, socially inept, codependent, confused and lack significant self worth. I spent the past decade delving deep into undoing all the work done to me to keep me a reliable supply for my mother and coming to terms with all the time lost in doing so. I've had glimpses and proof of another life but this year sent me back to old coping mechanisms and devastatingly familiar relationships. I read that by its very nature, all pandemics have to end and I thought I was strong enough to share a definite time&space with my abuser for the foreseeable future.... but with no end in sight, I kind of really wish I had established a clearer version of myself and where I stand in this family, to her.

Similar predicaments flung us both to the south and having her here is like a screen forging images of the same dysfunction I exhibited upon my arrival 7 years ago. There's so much I wish I could tell my former self, namely, "it's not your fault. you're not alone. you don't have to try so hard and tomorrow is another day" And perhapz it's this layered vision of myself as seen thru her that compels me to want to save her, but doing so requires me to get too close to a flame I've yet to extinguish. Im not foundationally sound enough to go up in flames and rebuild afterwards, I need a few more rounds of therapy for all that. I'm a stitch away from coming apart at the seams. Weak construction, but I'm still standing. I have more life to live and can't risk the breeze of my mother's chaotic whims to topple what's taken years to forge. I love her, because she's the only mom I got and because she's the kids' only access to our motherland. How can I reconcile this version of me with this version of her?

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