#and i was always terrified of those things

[aelfgiure]

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

[revelboo]

I'm soooo obsessed with 'Skin and Bones' it makes me look stupid. I daydream about it at work lmao. Honestly fantastic

For me, it’s as fun to write soft Megatron as it is to write feral TFP Megs. Mass displaced mech 18+ 🌶️

Skin and Bones Pt 9- extended cut

IDW Megatron x Reader

Servos trembling as they curl into fists, he shrugs off Soundwave’s hand on his shoulder. Knows the communications officers is concerned, but the energon splattered on his hands and chassis isn’t his. It rarely ever is.

“Leave me,” he growls, wishing he could gentle his tone. But that fury is a living thing inside his spark. Another failed coup to put down. It’s not like it’s anything new, but he’s just so tired of it and violence is the only way to keep his throne. The only thing his followers respect and he hadn’t been able to temper his blows, because betrayal always brings out the worst in him. Those memories always too close to the surface.

Drags him right back to the gladiator pits, struggling and clawing just to survive, because one wrong move will cost his life. Never being able to relax, not even during recharge. Being the strongest had placed a target on his head. Made him plenty of enemies.

And finally alone, that rage shakes him, sinking into his spark. Because everything he’s done has been for them. Fighting for freedom, to not be leashed by the aristocracy ever again. Dragging his chair away from his desk, he slings it across the room. Wants to tear the walls down around him, but it’s the sharp cry from his berth that freezes him. Chains that fury.

Spark constricting as he realizes he’d forgotten all about you. Head turning, he finds you pressed against the wall on his berth, eyes wide with fear. Seeing the real him for the first time, the angry mech who’d fought so hard just to survive, who’d grown bitter and determined. And you’re terrified.

“Little one,” he growls, voice too rough still as he approaches. The chair didn’t land anywhere near you, but he’s been so careful to not show you the worst of him, because around you he can relax. Remember that there were times before the fights that weren’t easy by any means, but were almost happy. Companionship found with the other miners, a sense of family that had been taken from him. Reaching out a hand, he doesn’t try to touch you as you flinch back, little hands curled against yourself. Afraid if he tries to touch you, it’ll send you running. And he’s afraid of what he’ll do in turn if you reject him. He’s just so tired of it all, but you give him comfort. A little spot of trusting warmth.

Eyes shiny, you look from his outstretched hand to his face. Slowly letting out a breath and coming to him to lay a warm palm on his servo. Still trusting him even if you’re scared.

“Everything okay?” You ask, looking up at him as a single tear slides down your cheek and you reach up to scrub it away. Afraid, but asking him if he’s okay and your concern aches in his spark.

Knows how dangerous it is after the brawl he’d just had. If anyone comes looking for him, if they get past their fear and come at him together? Knows he shouldn’t risk it even as he places his ped on the berth, leaning forward and mass shifting. Closing the distance between you as he shrinks and seeing your eyes widen as he carefully grips your little hand. Even like this, you’re so much smaller than he is, fragile. But as you look up at him, he’s snared by those eyes, the little flecks of color in them he’s never noticed.

“You’re little. Smaller,” you whisper with a soft, awkward laugh, eyes dropping to stare at his hand gripping yours. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

He needs to see those eyes again, his free hand reaching to cup your soft cheek and tip your face up. Feeling when you lay your palm on his hand as he slides a servo along your cheek. Accepting his touch despite the faint tremor he can still feel, those trusting eyes seeing him. The good and the bad, and not running. Venting sharply when his touch leaves a smear of energon on your cheek, marking your skin with his sins.

Because that’s what he’s always done, isn’t it? Every time he reaches out, he just ends up destroying what he’s trying to protect.

He’s frozen, those red optics fixed on his servos against your cheek as you try to calm your racing heart. That had been the other side of the coin, the vicious warlord that the Seekers had whispered about. Feared. Red optics glowing, denta bared as he’d seized his chair in energon wet hands and thrown it. That hatred twisting his face mixed with despair, cutting you so deeply, piercing the fear.

Those wet servos are touching you, dampening your skin. And he’s just staring, venting raggedly like he’s about to lose it all over again. That’s what makes you catch his hand between both of yours when he tries to snatch it away. Eyes dropping as he hesitates and you pull, turning yourself so your back is to him, his arm under yours and pinned to your body. So you can examine that big hand. “I like when you touch my cheek or play with my hair,” you begin, unsure of how to say what you need to, what he needs to hear. Playing with a servo to curl it slightly and amazed that he’s letting you. “These hands don’t scare me, they’re warm against me when I sleep. They’re strong, but they keep me safe.”

“They destroy, too,” he murmurs.

He’s so close he’s almost touching you and you feel the warmth of him when he vents and it stirs your hair. “Mine can, too.”

He huffs out what might be a bitter laugh at that, but he would think you’re too little, too fragile to do any harm. Giving in, you lean back into him. Soaking in his warmth and safety and realizing how attached to him you are. That you like that rumbling voice, like those big, gentle hands. It’s not like you’d ever deluded yourself into thinking he was safe, but he’d made you feel seen and cherished. He’d felt safe even knowing what he was and what he’s capable of.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Tugging his hand up, you press a kiss against the center of his palm. You can’t look at him, can’t risk seeing the surprise or worse, the disgust on his face. Cause to him, you’re a pet. A weird little alien he adopted as his. So you brace yourself when he turns you, those red optics searching your face.

“You should be,” he says, cupping your face in those warm hands. “I terrify myself.” And his head dips, his mouth brushing against yours.

More of a question than a kiss, a warm stroke of his lips against yours and he’s lifting his head. Going up on tiptoes as warmth spreads through you, you catch his helm and drag him back so you can mold your own mouth to his. Wanting this, him even though it’s crazy. You’re two very different species, but being held by him, drowsing to the thrum of his spark under you, it feels like coming home. And you want all of it. Want to hang on with both hands so you’re not left alone again, because after him? You might not survive that loneliness.

His glossa slides against the seam of your lips entering when you part for him. Those big hands sliding over you, dragging you closer as your feet leave the ground. His mouth moves against yours in a hungry demand and one of his arms cages you to him.

Your mouth is all heat and hunger against his, those soft hands clinging to him as if afraid he might stop. Even if he’d wanted to, he’s not sure he could now. Because you’d reached out, taken what you wanted and given him permission to do the same. No, there’s no stopping until he takes everything he can, loses himself in whatever comfort you’ll allow him. Because you? There’s no conniving or plotting in those warm eyes. Pinning you to his frame, he goes down on his knees and lays you down under him, head lifting slightly so he can find those eyes. Reassure himself that he can have this without destroying what little he has.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, face flushed as you reach for him and how can he deny you?

Slowly do he doesn’t scare you, he finds the bottom edge of your shirt and slides it up to reveal soft skin. “I’m here,” he says and you smile faintly, little hands moving to help him strip you. And only then, bare underneath him, do you avoid his optics as he surfs a palm against you, mapping you out with his servos. “Look at me.” It’s a demand and not as gentle as he’d meant, but you hesitantly meet his optics. “We’re very different.”

“I know,” you say, reaching up to skim your fingers over his chassis in barely there touches. As if not sure if you’re allowed.

Catching your wrist, he presses your palm more firmly against him. “I like those differences.” Shifting slightly, he continues his slow exploration. Finding where he can touch you to make you shiver, squirm away, or gasp. Then his servos find you, cup you and stroke that wet heat. Realizing that as different as you are, it feels like you’re made for him as he presses a servo inside you and you arch. Primus, help him as he frees his spike. Needing to be buried deep inside you even as he strokes that servo deep.

“Don’t stop,” you protest when he pulls his hand away and he laughs softly. He can’t even if you asked him to as he shifts to cover you. Little eyes widening as you feel his spike slide against you, then slowly press inside. “Oh.”

You’re so tight and wet wrapped around his spike as he sheaths himself. He can feel you clench on him before you relax and soften as he cups your cheek. Rocks himself against you with a growl, savoring the feel of you. “I love those differences,” he snarls, beginning to move against you. Hips driving urgently against yours, still wound up with that anger from earlier. Taking that frustration out on you, claiming you rougher than he intended. And you hold onto him, murmuring against his neck. Right there, please, his name, falling almost mindlessly from your lips against the mesh of his neck. Accepting him even like this when you deserve gentle and soft.

And when you cry out and tighten on him, he keeps rutting against you. Denta bared as he thrusts and chases you over that edge. Feeling you milk his spike as he buries himself deep and releases. Claiming you as his. Needing you and those soft hands that had reached out, those eyes that had seen him and not turned away. Knows he doesn’t deserve you, but wants to hold onto this as long as you’ll trust yourself to him, because you feel more like home than anywhere he’s ever been.

Previous

[unknown-cold]

In this interview Amanda said something that caught my attention. Do you think that in ep 8 Caitlyn will talk about what Jinx did to her when she kidnapped her? Bc Amanda said that in ep8 there's a Caitlyn line that will make us say "Oh so that's why"

Amanda means this line that Cait is going to say will let us know why she was so mad at Jinx in ep 3 and how Caitlyn went completely blind when she saw Jinx in her target and bc of her anger and also her fear and terror of Jinx, Cait has completely lost control of herself in this moment. (there is someone who made a post on this topic @loycos and talked about what happened to Cait in ep3 and how Cait didn't see Vi or Isha in front of her bc of her anger and her deeply terrified of Jinx) I mean look at her eyes and the expression on her face, yes she looks angry but she is also terrified.

This is a natural reaction. I mean for example, imagine that you see something that scares you so much. There are two reactions, either flight or fight, and these reactions always come without a person thinking. At this moment the person is only thinking about getting rid of the thing that scares him, and he does not focus on what is around him bc these strong feelings control him.

Anyway, what makes me sure that this scene might happen in ep 8 (Caitlyn talking about what happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her) is Reed Shannon (Ekko VA) comment when he saw the drawing and said "I thought this was a leak" Reed might be joking as usually, but why this particular drawing and why he chose this word "leak".

But honestly if this scene actually happened and we knew what happened to Caitlyn, it would make us understand more why she was so angry and scared of Jinx when she saw her in front of her and it would also explain why she literally went blind and didn't see anything around her at that moment, neither the child nor Vi, all Cait saw was Jinx, she just wants to bring down Jinx. I mean look at these pictures she is so terrified of her

Again Caitlyn's insistence on killing Jinx in the scene in ep 3 was not only motivated by revenge on Jinx, but also out of fear and terror of her.

And not like those idiots who say that Caitlyn wanted to kill the child on purpose to get to Jinx or even say that she wanted to kill Vi too, or bc she's a cop and the cops kill children and blah blah... That's really ridiculous and annoying!! Bc if we focus a little bit on the period that Caitlyn went through we will see that Cait didn't have time to process all these things that happened to her, from the torture that happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her, then the killing of her mother, then the attack on the memorial ceremony. (I know that Jinx is not the reason, but from Caitlyn's perspective she thinks that Jinx and the Silco followers are the reason)

And in the end I hope that no one comes who doesn't like the post bc I am defending Caitlyn's character. If you don't like this character I don't care, there is no need for you to write a stupid comments. Please don't tire your little fingers if you don't like my post block me this is better for you and me. I will not waste my time responding to you, I will delete your comment and block you immediately.

I am a student at the Faculty of Psychology, and when I talk about trauma and the interpretation of human behavior and reactions, I know well what I am talking about. Bc most of the characters' reactions in this show are very realistic and need to explanation, writers do not want to explain everything in the show, they want viewers to occupy their mind and explain the events themselves (And I still repeat the point that the show focuses on the development and complexity of the characters more than anything else, and does not focus on solving political issues, the show is not about politics, okay)

And btw some people ask me about my opinion of Jinx's character, I have no problem with her character at all, I like her and I understand her condition, when I criticize her actions, it doesn't mean I hate her.

One day I may do a post about her character development and her condition, but I see that there are many posts about her and her actions, and I feel like I won't say anything new about her. Unlike the rest of the characters like Vi and Caitlyn, there are not many people talking about them. And maybe I will make a Viktor post bc I really like the development of his character. When the show ends, maybe I will.

[spacecatdraws]

oh. this is interesting…

random personal lore drop below

(tldr: I don’t believe I can be a real system but I’m sure as hell not normal)

TW: (minor mentions) gvns, r@p3, d34th, (major mention) su1c1d3

I called myself endogenic because I don’t qualify as traumatized.

let me explain.

I’ve had anxiety, depression, ADHD, and other unidentified issues for my whole life. I roleplayed because it was my escape, life made me want to stop living so why would I stay there? When I was writing or drawing I was those characters, buried in their minds, filling in their bodies, but something would pull me back to reality and I’d feel it crumble. Some characters stayed longer than others. Slowly, I found out they weren’t character’s I had just made up; they were my theriotypes. I left it at that, that I was just a polytherian. But I’m not my types. I share a body with them. I have conversations with them, they care about me, we cuddle as best we can when there’s only one body to share. I love my parents. I love my friends. But life has always been terrifying to me. Sometimes things I’d never experienced would make me cry and hyperventilate. Gunshots make me freeze up and stop breathing. Mentions of sexual assault, of rape, of murder make me want to throw up and cry. Child abuse and childloss make me vengeful like I have nothing but rage. Labels and rules make me sick and dizzy. Poisoning and sickness make me feel like I’m drowning in them. I can’t recognize myself sometimes. My body isn’t mine. I always assumed I was just an odd therian. i learned about systems, and they described the things happening in my head. Some days I tie the door to my room shut because I want to starve and die and crumble so badly. But I always said to myself “my family and friends are fine, so I can’t be traumatized. It’s all in my head, and I’m a failure and a faker for ever thinking that I could be anything else. I’m just being a poser and hurting these people who have been through so much worse.” I believed so deeply that my issues were insignificant and that I didn’t have nearly enough mental problems to be a true system. I said to myself “I don’t have trauma. So I can’t be a DID system. But system is so comforting of a label, so I must be endogenic, and therefore I shouldn’t talk to anyone about my issues because I will just be taking away from people who truly are traumatized.” I never felt like I belonged in supporting spaces because I never got raped or shot or manipulated by my family or friends, even though those things dragged flashbacks from lives I never had, memories from the others in my body. My parents loved me, and my friends cared about me, so I wasn’t traumatized. I have no trauma, so I didn’t deserve to be in those spaces.

There are six of us. The host tries their best to take care of us, but takes out their emotions through cutting and starving themself. This isn’t my body. These aren’t my parents. I can tell these people care, but they’re not mine. I can’t remember what I did for most of the day. It’s all just fog. Fog and static.

If all endos are fake and posers, then I must be one too. Even though I hear my packmates, the others in this body, I love them so dearly, and I can feel their limbs and the memories are so strong it hurts me physically.

I can’t be truly traumatized, right? Not if my family was good.

Not if my friends were nice.

Even though this world makes me want to hang myself…

I don’t count as traumatized enough to be a true system.

I am nothing but a fraud.

ENDO LORE?????!????

[aquadios]

drunk in love | pair bsf!ungwon x fem genre best friends to lovers fluff drunk au wc est. 07-08k aquadios says : first post for the new acc YAY

a sigh escapes your lips for the umpteenth time as you drum your fingers against the steering wheel of your cold car. you’ve been sitting in the parking lot of a busy restaurant waiting for your best friend to appear, given the frantic texts from his friends saying he was too drunk to function.

finally, his figure emerges from the restaurant, stumbling on his feet as his friends try to keep him up straight. you frowned—jungwon wasn’t one to indulge himself in drinks—definitely not when his friends were heavy drinkers themselves.

“oh, jungwon,” you shake your head while keeping your eyes on the blonde. he was smiling and giggling about something, but his gaze was trained in on your car and as he got closer, he found himself walking faster.

although you had expected him to be more intoxicated, he found his way around your car and towards the window of the drivers side.

“you came for me,” jungwon leans in once you roll the window all the way down. “been here for an hour actually.” you smile softly.

jungwon tilts his head, his newly dyed hair falls to the side and he smells like whiskey. to you, your best friend was undeniably beautiful—everyone knew that—but if felt wrong for you to think those things.

jungwon was a friend to you, always has been; however, recently, your heart has been telling your brain something else. mixed signals seemed to be the only feelings you could conjure up about yang jungwon. he was a confusing boy and those confusing actions were reflecting the light you saw him in.

the once beige colors you’ve seen him in began to morph into explosions of red and blue and pink and any other color you could think of. he was turning your life into a splattered painting.

and it’s terrifying.

“ah, i’m sorry baby. you should’ve came in, i would’ve brought you a drink.” he leans his exhausted head against your car while closing his eyes.

you’re grateful he chose to close his eyes the second the heat from your nervous stomach ran up to your cheeks. “i need to drive you home jungwon, i’m not drinking.” you whisper, only because you’re afraid how hard your voice would give out.

“do you need help getting in the car? i can ask the guys, or i can help you myself—”

your words are cut short when jungwon’s hand weaves behind your head and jerks you forward, dangerously close to his own. your nose is brushing against his and you could smell the faint scent of his natural musk that isn’t overpowered by the alcohol.

“i was thinking about you while i was here,” his fingers that were entangled in your hair began to move you closer.

“i was thinking about how much i’ve wanted to kiss you,” if jungwon wasn’t holding onto your head, it would’ve blown off.

your chest heaved up and down as you try to find the words to say to him but nothing was coming out. your mind was going haywire as your heart was beating uncontrollably to the point it hurt.

he continued, “there’s been so many moments where i just wanted to kiss you but i was too scared i’d ruin everything,” he sighs and his intoxicated breath almost has you under the same spell.

“you wouldn’t ruin anything.” your voice is still a quiet whisper. “i can only do this when i’m drunk.” he knows he’s a coward for doing this when he wasn’t sober.

jungwon shakes his head before leaning into your lips. he tastes like bitter peaches and years of pining as he uses his other hand to cup your jaw.

if it hadn’t been for the door separating you two, jungwon would’ve pulled you insanely close to him until your hearts matched the miles they were racing.

when he pulls away, he leaves even more kisses against your lips like the alcohol wasn’t merely as intoxicating.

jungwon smiles and you reciprocate his with an even wider grin. “you finally did it!” heeseung yanks jungwon out of the window, shaking his entire body by his shoulders.

the boys gather around whilst yelling drunken hoots and praises as if he had just won a noble prize (to jungwon you’re worth more)

though, in the middle of the chaos, jungwon turns to you, his eyes showcase a string of emotions he’s never felt before and you’ve never seen. he’s sure it isn’t the alcohol streaming through his veins or the hugs he’s receiving, it’s you.

what’s better than being drunk? being in love.

© aquadios | collection

[scarletwinterxx]

in the quiet of us - choi seungcheol imagine

tbh this fic came about while listening to milk teeth and did you like her in the morning by niki 🥺 dare i say i'm getting better with the angst haha ofc it's gonna end in a cute way

anywayss i hope you like this one🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and Seungcheol have been dating for nearly a year, and on the surface, the two of you seem to be an ideal couple—you’re the shy, introspective type, while he’s outgoing, expressive, and always the center of attention. 

Your love for Seungcheol is quiet. It’s gentle, steady, and sometimes, you feel like it’s almost too quiet to be enough for someone like him. You have always loved him in a subtle, understated way, hoping that your affection is enough without needing to shout about it. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is the type who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s affectionate, always complimenting you and showing his love in grand, showy gestures. 

He never shies away from declaring his feelings to the world.

You will never tell him your reasons for holding back when the truth is you love him with every piece of yourself. You’re terrified that your calm, reserved nature won’t compare to the passion and intensity of his past relationships. You about his ex-girlfriend, the one he once spoke of like she was his soul mate. Cheol has always been open about his past, and while he never directly compares you to her, you can’t help but feel like there are times you’re falling short of the vibrant, adventurous, free-spirited image of the girl who’s still a part of his memories. 

You and Seungcheol are sitting together on the couch, having just returned from a weekend getaway. You’re quiet, lost in thought.

"That trip was amazing, huh? I love how we just got to be spontaneous and go wherever we felt like." Cheol says while looking through the photos of your quick weekend getaway with some of his friends, you watch the big smile on his face 

"Yeah... it was nice." softly you say, Cheol being the mind reader he is, immediately looks at you when he hears your voice

Leaning closer to you he asks, "You don’t sound convinced. What’s on your mind?"

“I’ve been thinking a lot about... us, actually."

Cheol felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. There’s so many breakup scenes that start off with those same words

"Us? What about us?" he asks

"I know you’ve had past relationships. I know you loved… you loved her. And I... I don’t know, Seungcheol. I can’t help but feel like... maybe my way of loving you isn’t enough."

Your sudden confession makes him sit straight up, wondering where all of this is coming from, "What do you mean? Of course, it’s enough. You love me in your own way—"

"But it’s so quiet. I’m not like the others. I’m not as... exciting or loud or memorable. I don’t do the big, dramatic gestures like they did. I’m just... me." you cut him off

You see hurt flash across his eyes, wishing you never said anything. You should’ve just said nothing. To avoid his stare, you look down at your hands that were resting on your lap 

"You’re not being fair to yourself. You’re everything I want, just the way you are." he whispers, feeling more sad and disappointed that you think that way about yourself when you’re quite literally everything to him.

Softly, almost to yourself you say "I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m nothing like the girls you’ve loved before. That you’ll want... someone more. Someone who loves you in a bigger, louder way."

He looks at you, a thousand things running through his mind.

"Look at me." he tells you but you don’t move from where you’re sitting

"I just... I don’t know if I can keep pretending that everything’s fine when I feel so... small in your love." 

Gently turning your chin to face him, he smiles at you

"You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

"But what if I’m not what you need? What if you want someone who—"

Cutting you off gently, he speaks again "I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you, the way you love me, and it’s more than enough. You don’t need to be like anyone else, because there’s no one like you. You love me in a way that’s so quiet, so steady—it’s the kind of love I’ve always needed, even if I didn’t realize it until now."

You can’t stop the tears falling down on your cheeks, Cheol does that for you. He wipes them away one by one, with each one he says a vow in his mind to never let anything or anyone even himself make you cry in this lifetime. 

"But... I don’t know how to love any other way. I’m not like you. I can’t... do all the big things you do for me." you whimper

"You don’t need to. I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need loud. I need you, exactly as you are." he shakes his head, holding your face between his hands

He waits for you to say anything else but you don’t. You just embrace him, letting yourself fall apart infront of the only man who knows how to fix it all. And he lets you be. He lets you cry in his arms until you fall asleep, he lets you let go of what you’re feeling. Whispering words of assurance and affirmation, letting you know you’re not alone. 

You’ll never feel alone as long as you have him. 

The next morning, after a long conversation, you and Seungcheol are sitting in the kitchen together. He already made breakfast for the two of you. 

You look at him, still feeling a bit unsure but more at ease.

“So... you’re okay with the way I love you? Even if it’s not loud?" you’re the first one to speak

Softly smiling, he takes your hand "Your love is exactly what I’ve always needed. You love me with a softness, a patience, and I’m so grateful for it. I love how you take the time to listen to me, to show you care in the quietest ways. You don’t have to change who you are for me. I want you."

This makes you smile, little by little your worries disappear. You know it’s going to take some time before you feel okay, it’s a war between you and mind and yet here’s Cheol ready to fight that battle with you.

"I’ve always loved you like that. I just didn’t think it would ever be enough." you whisper

He walks over to your side, leaning in and kissing your forehead) "It’s more than enough. You’re more than enough. Always have been." he tells you

Later that day, Seungcheol left to get some errands done. When he comes back, he surprises you with a small gesture—no grand gesture, just a simple note with a favorite flower from the garden.

"Seungcheol, this is... really sweet." you smile up at him

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with affection "I know it’s not a big, loud thing, but I hope it says what I’ve been trying to tell you: I love you exactly as you are. In your quiet, beautiful way."

"I love you, too. In my own way." chucking softly, you shoot him a smile. Walking towards where he was, you throw your arms around him. His arms immediately wraps around you, 

"And I’ll never want anything else."

[nihilean]

i just realized how horrifyingly human all of the machines’ designs and purposes are and how they keep mirroring real life weapon designs in how far everything went in hopes of there being no more wars due to the hundreds of thousands of people dying from those weapons, the hope of such astronomical numbers terrifying everyone out of all these conflicts yet it never, ever worked. Even going from simpler things like Drones being here as little camera guys for patrol to Streetcleaners being here to clean the dirty air only to burn everything in a desperate attempt at perfection through destruction, we always reach a point where the machines are meant to end wars, even in their aftermath.

The creator of the Gatling gun hoped that his weapon was so horrifyingly lethal that people would be too scared to keep waging wars. Trains of thought like that escalated up until the atomic bomb, with Einstein regretting that it had ever been used, only signing in due to fear nazi Germany were developing the same weapon.

Guttermen and Guttertank were surely created to wage wars as guns and tanks would have but Earthmovers were created as a last resort before V1’s creation, with hopes something as big, so terrifying and so massive, able to carry whole cities on its back, that something that could end everything would stop all wars. But it didn’t.

V1 is a reminder of the failed attempts at stopping wars, after mankind had already died from its own intentions of ending all wars, yet it barely knows anything of what its creators intended for them aside from its instinct and need to kill and heal from blood. It’s another way Ultrakill mirrors reality and human ways of thinking through a hellish comparison. In a way it’s ironic, realistic almost, how we went from huge contraptions to small things that were still made to end all wars.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum, but the wars never ended and peace will only come once everyone will be dead, be it once humans or their children of steel. This is the only way it should have ended.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Do you have any tips on how characters react after a heat in the moment first kiss?

Hey there! I'm so glad you reached out about depicting characters' reactions after an unexpected first kiss. This is such an important and tricky moment to get right in any romance story.

I don't talk enough about romance, so I've very excited to write a blog post about this, especially since in almost all my writing projects I utilize a romantic subplot.

Understanding the Emotional Impact

First things first, it's important to recognize just how powerful and transformative that first kiss can be for your characters, even if it's spur-of-the-moment or unplanned. A kiss like that has the power to shift the entire dynamic between two people, unlocking a whole new level of vulnerability, intimacy, and emotional intensity.

Think about it - your characters have probably been building up tension, attraction, and unspoken feelings for each other over time. And then, in one electric moment, all of that comes bubbling to the surface. Suddenly, everything changes. The world seems to slow down, and all that matters is the connection between them.

Whether your characters have been pining for this moment or it takes them completely by surprise, that first touch of their lips is guaranteed to trigger a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement, nervousness, relief, uncertainty - it's a veritable emotional rollercoaster.

And of course, the way each character responds will depend on their individual personality, past experiences, and overall mindset. A shy, cautious character might be utterly flustered and overwhelmed. A bold, adventurous one might be thrilled and eager for more. And someone with trust issues or a painful romantic history might panic and pull away.

The key is to really get inside your characters' heads and hearts, understanding how this monumental moment resonates with them on a deep level. That's what's going to make their reactions feel raw, authentic, and achingly real for your readers.

Crafting Nuanced Reactions

(The examples I use are very cliche, and personally not my writing style, but they're simply for your reference to get a rough idea of what I'm trying to indicate)

Okay, now that we've established the emotional gravity of that first kiss, let's dive into some specific techniques for portraying your characters' reactions. Here are a few ideas:

Focus on the sensations. When a character experiences something as intense as an unexpected first kiss, their physical responses are going to be heightened. Capture the racing heartbeat, the trembling hands, the tingling skin - all those little visceral details that make the moment palpable.

For example (Very cliche but, just for reference): "Her lips were soft and warm against his, sending a shiver down his spine. His heart pounded in his ears, fingers trembling as he cupped her cheek, hardly daring to breathe."

Showcase their inner turmoil. Don't just describe what's happening externally - give us a window into your character's jumbled thoughts and feelings. Are they overjoyed? Confused? Terrified? Let us see the full emotional spectrum unfolding.

Like this: "Panic rose in her chest as his lips met hers, every nerve ending firing at once. What was happening? This couldn't be real - it had to be some kind of dream. But the way her skin tingled, the way her stomach fluttered, told her this was very much reality."

Use body language and subtle reactions. Characters don't always have to respond with grand, over-the-top gestures. Sometimes the most meaningful reactions come through in the little, unconscious movements - a shy glance, a gentle touch, a subtle smile.

For instance: "For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, frozen. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, eyes sparkling with a mix of wonder and delight."

Lean into the awkwardness. First kisses, even magical ones, can also be a little clumsy and uncertain. Embrace that sense of fumbling vulnerability - it makes the moment all the more endearing and relatable.

Something like: "Their noses bumped as they leaned in, hearts racing. He hesitated, suddenly unsure, but then her hand slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a tentative, exploratory kiss that sent tingles down his spine."

Contrast reactions between characters. If you have two characters with very different personalities or perspectives, lean into that contrast to create compelling dramatic tension. How might a guarded, cynical character react compared to an optimistic romantic?

For example: "She froze, eyes wide with shock. This was the last thing she'd expected - to be kissed by her best friend, of all people. Panic fluttered in her chest, desperate to pull away. But then she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, the slight tremble in his hands, and her heart melted. Slowly, hesitantly, she kissed him back."

The key is to get creative, have fun, and be able to let your characters' unique voices and perspectives shine through.

Additional Resources

And of course, don't hesitate to reach out if you have any other questions! I'm always happy to chat more about anything writing related.

--Rin T.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

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oh to be loved by chris..

to be looked at as though you were the only person in the room, like you were the embodiment of persephone herself, like the seasons changed with your breath, like the sun rose and set with the blush on your cheeks, like the only thing that mattered in the whole world was making sure that you were safe. that you were happy.

to be held together by strong arms when you feel as if you’re crumbling apart. and if you do fall to ruin.. for the crumbling pieces to be carefully puzzled back together, with his love and affection as the only form of glue. to be cradled and delicately handled as if you were made of the finest glass.

to be kissed. to be kissed wherever he deems fit. your knuckles, the inside of your wrist, your forehead, his soft lips like velvety paint against the blank canvas of your skin. to be hushed by those same lips if you dare say a word against yourself, his beloved.

to have songs written in your honor, full length albums only to describe the beauty of your smile, the butterflies you cause in his tummy and the nervous sweat you bring to his palms.

to have shared whispers of conversations late into the night when sleep eludes both of you. deep, meaningful words shared under the moonlit sky, baring souls to one another and accepting any flaws there may be in their surface.

to be cherished and loved in such a way that is more than skin. more than needy touches and desperate sighs of your name in thick accent.

oh, to be loved by chris..

to take up space in an overworked and exhausted mind. to bring that mind peace, when he struggles. to do for him the same that he as always done for you. to hold him together.

to love him. and be loved by him.

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an: as you can probably tell, this is not my usual post. i wanted to try something different and this came out of me. i’m terrified to post it but it’s been sitting in my drafts and i figured im finally feeling brave enough to send it out into the world. feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. but i love you either way. ♡

you can find my masterlist full of your regularly scheduled programming here

[aromantic-ace]

Humans Are Weird/SpaceOrc: Nervous Laugh.

This was 100% already done but idc i wanna participate. So, you know the times where you laught or sing in the totally wrong moment (for exemple when someone get hurt or you get scared). Well i just love to think of how much freaked out the aliens would be upon seeing that.

All lights were off on the ship, only the emergency lights were barely functionning and won't be for long thank to the ship reactor being unable to provide much power. The Expedition Cruiser wasn't a war vessel despite its name, sure it had some Guns and turrets but those were mostly fitted for clearing out debris and asteroide, not to resist an ambuch from an unknown specie. But the worst part wasn't the attack from those other being, no it was that they were INSIDE the ship now, and killing the crew in an extremely cruel and sadistical way but Lieutenant Grex knew that already, he saw it happen and so did the Human, and honestly he was worried for her. Human Leila wasn't on soldier duty, sure she had some basic weapon training and understanding but she was a scientist, she wasn't fit to fight and the situation couldnt be worse.

The both of them were roaming the corridor with caution until it happened, out of the blue Human Leila started singing calmy with some sort of maniacal laugh about the fact that they were "going to diiiie" or that she was "not liking this and going to shoot anything that move". Lt. Grex was used to civils freaking out but this ? If anything that was bloodlust, he already knew the fact that humans were great soldier and could be absolutely terrifying in fights, but he though that was only applying to soldiers ! As a training to do some kind of psychological warfare ! He certainly did not expect the civil to start singing about what atrocities she was going to do to those "weird ass lizards".

Suddenly one of the invaders showed up, probably tracking the song of her voice and before he could even react Human Leila sniped the lizardman accross the corridor in almost total darkness, a mix of fear and respect came in Lt. Grex mind, she was only armed with a civil laser pistol, how did she managed to do that ? With such aim !? Memories of the time where Human Leila had one of those "Human Rages" rushed in his mind, she wasn't someone to mess with. And then she started to laugh even more ! Saying how "scared she was" and how "in fact those guys are ass". Poor Grex wasn't understanding a single things, all that he knew is that he now have a bloodthirsty human going around doing better job than the elite force.

The light went back on, and through the speakers news of the enemy being defeated was announced, and during the little time between the first altercation and that Human Leila killed four other invador, laughing and laughing sometime even kicking the bodies telling them how much she got scared.. but was she tho ? She didn't miss a single shot and always killed them in one or two charges, Lt. Grex couldn't even do anything before they were dead and he took the opportunity of this mess ending to ask her.

Grex: What was that Human Leila ? Why didn't you specify you had those skills ?

Leila: Specify what ? It's the second time in my life i'm using a laser weapon.

Grex: This ! All this ! The laugh, the weird "singing" as you call it ! We only ever saw those in elite humans troops and now you take on five of those beasts !?

Leila: What do you mean "only elite troops" that's called fear ! And you probably have heard of adrenaline right ? Surely you have that's like the most known things about us.

Grex: Just a drug don't cause that ! You- you were acting as a bloodiust soldier going on a rampage !

Leila: Well that's because i was affraid, people tend to laugh in these situation even if its not funny, that's called nervous laught and we all have that.

Grex: YOU ALL BECOME BLOODTHIRSTY KILLING MACHINE BECAUSE YOU ARE AFFRAID !?

Leila: Yup !

And without a word she left, going back to her quarter to clean the mess, with a flabagasted Lieutenant in the corridor that was rethinking a lot of things about humans, and doing a little promise to himself to never ever scare Human Leila, under any condition. He will have to inform the higher ups of her abilities. "Deathworlder" he muttered to himself going back to check the mess and the casuality.

[notreallythatlost]

As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.

this one gives me such disney vibes, now all that's missing are the animals that listen to her singing 🤣🤣

“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.

what an idiot the og halbrand were

Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.

my heaaart oh my god 😭

“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.

okay, that one was kinda hot. okay, it was REALLY hot

“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.

“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.

to be loved, is to be changed 🫶🏽

all he needs is love

What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?

the way i love his thoughts

“It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

OBSESSED

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal.

OH MY GOD!!! DOES THAT MEAN…

“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.

“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.

saying in hermiones voice: what. an. idiot.

“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.

MAYBE SHE REALLY IS

this makes me think about so many things at the same time 😮😮 it would be mind blowing, and a REAL plottwist

or she was just happy to hear him say that 🧐

His wife.

i’m crying this is perfect

“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.

two children?? my heart is full

i love how you said it in the beginning because i’m a sucker for happy endings too. and i love this fic with all my heart, because it was everything about a happy ending.

truly amazing lily, a real masterpiece 🤍🤍

— SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!human(?)!Reader

SUMMARY — Lady Galadriel keeps convincing Halbrand and his wife to change their minds and go back to Middle-earth but Sauron is starting to realise that this new life might be his chance to start all over and redeem himself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — As I warned, in this part Sauron is very ooc but I'm a sucker for happy endings... I couldn't picture it any other way with a mortal Reader tbh... 🤷🏻‍♀️ Although, whether she is really a human or not – I let you decide and interpret it whatever way you wish! 😉💝 The song The Reader sings in this part is called Lonesome Road and I know it from Joan Baez but I changed the lyrics a little so they could fit the fantasy world better.

WORD COUNT — 4,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

Even though he thought Halbrand's wife had given up on him already, it seemed to be quite otherwise. The guards came to Sauron in the early morning to tell him that he was free to go under a condition to never start any fight on the streets of Númenor ever again. Next time, the Queen Regent would not be so merciful. And now, she would even give him a chance to prove his worth and earn the guild crest.

Apparently, (Y/N) had spent nearly the whole night begging and pleading after getting an audience.

Free to go anywhere he wanted to, he simply decided to walk back to his new home and wait there for Lady Galadriel to show up with the next idea or opportunity.

It was not going according to his plan – (Y/N) had made sure of it. But it was still going well enough and that was what mattered the most.

As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.

Slowly and quietly, Sauron walked inside the house and leaned on the wall with crossed arms as he watched (Y/N) with a smirk. She had her back turned on him and had no idea he was there as she busied herself with brushing her hair in front of a small mirror and preparing to go to her new work.

And while doing so, she was singing. Sauron listened with curiosity because he had missed many new songs in the time when he had been regaining his strength to go back to the world of living.

And he had never been familiar with the songs of common people anyway.

“They say all good friends must part sometime. Why not you and I, my Lord? Why not you and I?” (Y/N) sang softly. “Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never been born or died when I was a baby, my Lord… Or died when I was a baby,” she added and Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat.

He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.

“Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never seen your face, heard your lyin' tongue, my Lord… Heard your lyin' tongue,” (Y/N) kept going with the song as she put some rouge upon her cheeks. “You better look up and down that long, lonesome road where all of your friends have gone, my Lord, and you and I must go…” she continued humming and then she jumped up at the sight of him standing behind her with crossed arms. “Oi, Hal, I haven't seen ye. Forgive me, I know ye don't like it when I sing,” she got nervous in an instant.

“I don't?” Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.

He let her but when she wanted to move away, he grabbed her wrists to keep her in place and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What have you done to free me, love?” He asked in a whisper.

“I begged and pleaded for ye, Hal,” she answered. “Told the good Queen ye're naught but a man who wants to work, with a pride that's hurt. I promised ye wouldn't get in trouble again. An' ye better not.” (Y/N)'s eyes filled with pain as if she knew already he would break the promise.

Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.

“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.

“Start, then,” she challenged him with a cracked smile and patted his chest before going out of the house.

And even though Sauron was tempted to stay inside and wait for Lady Galadriel to show up, he walked out as well and went to the forge nearby where he was supposed to start his own training to be able to earn the guild crest.

Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.

When Sauron was coming back from work, it was getting dark already. He was walking slowly down the steps and whistling the very same song he had heard earlier that day – the one Halbrand's wife had been singing.

In his hands he was carrying a few coins he had earned on that day and he was playing with them by tossing them in the air and catching them swiftly right after. As he approached the harbour, he spotted (Y/N) standing by one of the wooden tables and selling the goods to the people standing in the queue.

He wondered why she was left alone by the stand but assumed the woman working with her was having a break. And the closer to the market he was getting, the more he could see how stressed Halbrand's wife seemed to be.

“You useless woman, you can't even count properly, can you?!” Sauron heard some man's harsh words due to the fact his hearing was much better than if he was truly human.

“I-I'm sorry, I'm still learnin'. How much do I owe ye, then?” (Y/N) was trying to sound nice.

“You're good for nothing, stupid wench,” the man spat out. “Where is Bellona?”

“She had to leave earlier today. Please, it is no big deal. Let me just give you back the money and–”

“You should go back to Middle-earth where low women like you belong,” the man interrupted her.

Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.

“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hal!” (Y/N) squealed, looking nervously at the guards that were already coming their way after sensing trouble. “Let go of him, I beg ye! Ye promised me ye wouldn't–”

“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.

Sauron let go of his tunic the moment he heard the guards standing behind him and the man hurried away as quickly as possible.

“It's nothin', it's nothin'!” (Y/N) exclaimed at the guards. “I'm closin' for the day! Please, let us go.”

The men looked at each other but since the other man had run away and did not file any complaint, they just shrugged their arms and walked away alongside the rest of the people waiting in the queue.

“Ye promised!” (Y/N) gave Sauron a very scolding look as she busied herself with tidying up the stand and collecting the money.

“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.

“Since when are ye so gifted with words, Hal?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Anyhow, in that cell, ye won't be 'round to protect me. Foolish, it'd be, but ye've never been the brightest, have ye?” she pointed out and Sauron gritted his teeth with an eye roll.

She kept blabbering to him about her day while they walked back to their house and even though it was a short road, it felt like forever due to her talking. However, Sauron was very surprised at the sight of Lady Galadriel sitting by the table when they entered the house.

He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.

“Oi!” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips. “Is it not illegal to sneak up on folk like that inside their own homes, Elf?!” She asked. “When'll ye leave us be, huh?”

“The Queen Regent agreed to gather the army. They will seek for the volunteers,” Galadriel announced. “People of Númenor might not need you, Halbrand, but when we arrive in The Southlands, a strong leader will be needed. Someone to unite and show the way.”

“Someone to lie, ye say,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and finally closed the door behind her. “But go on, Elf, keep talkin'. I'm sure my husband'll agree sooner or later. Vain as he is, always has been,” she sighed as if she was defeated.

Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.

“I have already told the Queen Regent who you most likely are,” Galadriel insisted, ignoring Halbrand's wife and looking deep into his eyes.

“You must be desperate,” he pointed out with a smirk and watched his angry wife unpacking the groceries from her wicker basket on the kitchen counter.

“Of course I am. And you should be, too. It is about your home. Why do you give up on it so easily?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It gave up on us long before we ever gave up on it,” (Y/N) turned around to answer her.

“This land was your place in Middle-earth. It was giving you vegetables to eat, grass to feed your animals with, clean water from the rivers…” Lady Galadriel pointed out.

“And what do ye know about it, grand Elf?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. “It ain't easy work growin' yer vegetables an' keepin' yer animals alive. One bad winter's all it takes to take away yer loved ones, yer cows, horses, an' chickens. I've no love for that land,” she stated, harshly.

“You can change the fate of people who suffer like you have suffered…” Galadriel's voice softened. “As their Queen,” she tempted and Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised to see how dirty she could play.

Nearly as dirty as him.

“Me? A Queen?” (Y/N) laughed at that. “I can't even read!” She only said and turned around again to deal with the groceries.

“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.

Long silence occurred between Sauron and Halbrand's wife.

“Go with her,” (Y/N) muttered.

“What?” Sauron looked at her, surprised. She turned around to lay her wet eyes on him.

“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.

“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”

“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.

He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

Sauron was laying awake all night long as usual, caressing the back of Halbrand's wife and staring at the ceiling. He knew they would gather the volunteers on the next day and he still was not sure what to do.

The path he had chosen for himself was not so certain anymore. He truly did not mind the life he had here in Númenor and even (Y/N)'s presence was becoming less and less annoying to him. In fact – even though she had no idea who he truly was – it felt oddly nice to be loved and taken care of. As simple as that.

He extended his hand to the nightstand and brushed the pendant laying there with his fingertips as he remembered the very first conversation he had had with the heraldry's original owner – Diarmid.

“A sure path may crumble, but there's always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there's a place across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.”

What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?

(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.

“Is it time to wake up now, love?” She mumbled out, sleepily.

“No, love, not yet. I will tell you when,” he assured her.

“Good,” she smiled and nuzzled her face deeper into him.

“(Y/N)?” Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat as he fidgeted with the pendant between his fingers.

“Hm?”

“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.

“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what.

He wondered why she was so drawn to him, even after (Y/N)'s big mouth had made it clear that he was not any forgotten king. Could Galadriel feel who he was, deep inside?

But who was he? He was not sure anymore.

So, he looked away and went back on the road that would lead him to the forge where he worked these days. He was told he would get his guild crest very soon because they were in awe of his extraordinary talents.

Not only talent was his quality, though. It was also how much he was able to work at once and without breaks. At least it had been this way until recently.

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?

“Halbrand!” (Y/N)'s worried tone brought him back to reality when he entered the house.

She hurried to him and cupped his cheeks with widened eyes.

“Love, ye're so pale, an' the bags under yer eyes… What happened?!”

“Nothing happened,” Sauron shrugged his arms. “I'm just tired, that's it. I nearly fainted,” he admitted and sat down on the chair, sighing out of relief to finally be able to rest a little.

“Well, that's no wonder! Ye've been eatin' half meals for weeks now!” Halbrand's wife pointed out in a scolding manner. “We're not starvin' anymore, Hal, ye don't have to keep givin' me yer portions!” She exclaimed and approached the stove to pour him a bowl full of soup. “Here, eat,” she ordered as she placed it in front of him.

And, for some reason, Sauron ate all of it in a blink of an eye. He even asked for one more portion as Halbrand's wife gave it to him gladly but not without more of her whining about him being irresponsible. Then he asked for another and after three bowls of her soup, he finally felt better.

His stomach was no longer hurting at least, but he was still sleepy.

“Go, take some rest, love,” (Y/N) shook her head. “Ye don't sleep enough, don't eat enough. At least ye're not drinkin' and gamblin' anymore, but ye can't go on like this. Do ye want to die before forty, Hal? I ain't lettin' that happen!” She continued with her usual whining and he rolled his eyes.

“How can I rest when you keep your mouth open?!” Sauron asked and she huffed but she went silent and left him alone in the bedroom as she went back to the kitchen to clean the bowl after his soup.

It was the very first time when Sauron fell asleep not out of boredom or the need of dissociation but out of exhaustion.

And when he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning already and (Y/N) was shaking him to wake him up.

“Halbrand! Ye're gonna be late for work!” She exclaimed.

“But… I'm still tired…” He mumbled out, not understanding what was happening to him.

“Like all of us working folk each mornin'!” (Y/N) laughed. “Come on, I'm not lettin' ye out without breakfast, go to the kitchen,” she hurried him and he rubbed his eyes before nodding at her.

Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.

(Y/N) was grinning widely on that day when he came back home and she welcomed him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him all over his face as he tried to give back some of the kisses. When she finally stopped, she fixed his brand new guild crest and batted her eyelashes while looking up to stare into his eyes.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.

“That is… Impossible,” he furrowed his brows.

“I used to think so, too. Married for so long with no babe of our own but I was wishin' and hopin' and here we are!” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Perhaps it was that damned Middle-earth not being good for us, Hal, but here we can!”

Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.

Unless…

“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.

(Y/N) froze at his words and her smile turned into a frown. She approached him at this very moment and slapped his face. Hard. He could feel it like any mortal would now and he admitted it truly hurt.

“How dare ye, Halbrand?! Ye wretched bastard! Even if ye meant to jest, that was uncalled for!” She raised her voice as he rubbed his cheek and winced out of pain.

“I'm sorry, love, I haven't thought before speaking. I just can't believe it…” He tried to excuse himself. “Please, forgive me.”

Her face didn't look so angry anymore but she didn't say anything and turned around without a word to walk away.

In fact, she didn't say a word to him for the rest of the day and only at night when she was deep asleep, he dared to touch her abdomen slightly with his hand.

He wasn't able to feel any presence there but these days he couldn't feel anything, to be honest. He couldn't hear nor see as much either. He was losing his abilities as time was passing.

Sauron kept his hand there, on the belly of Halbrand's wife, and he sighed. It was happening, whether he liked it or not. And he was not even sure anymore if he wanted it or not.

As he got lost in the train of thought, he realised that he had been caressing (Y/N) abdomen all that time without thinking. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled gently at him.

“Hal, ye son of a bitch,” she shook her head and giggled as she took his hand carefully and brought it to her lips to place a few small and sweet kisses upon his knuckles. “I swear, ye're gonna be the death of me.”

“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.

She was going to be. Literally.

This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.

When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.

“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.

“Go back to sleep, ye madman,” she patted his chest lightly and turned around while laughing softly.

He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.

His wife.

Halbrand was coming back from work slowly while playing with the little horse forged out of iron in his hand as he hummed a song. The sun was setting slowly on the horizon when he approached the harbour where (Y/N) was slowly tidying up her stand on the market.

Her own one, that she had earned finally and was so proud of it as she was working for herself now and was able to bring more money home.

He watched her tidy up with a loving smile and their son was helping her while talking to her excitedly about something – his mouth would never close just like his mother's.

“Daddy!” He spotted him finally and ran up to him as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Hey, little man,” Halbrand crouched down to give his son a hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” The boy nodded. “I helped mummy a bit. And yours, daddy?”

“I made this for you,” Halbrand handed him the little horse and the boys' eyes sparkled at the sight.

“So pretty! Thank you, daddy!” He wrapped his little arms around Halbrand's neck to give him another hug and Halbrand patted his back.

“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.

“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.

He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.

“Thank you, daddy!” She giggled as she squinted her eyes at the shell and kept examining it under every possible angle.

“You spoil 'em way too much!” (Y/N) stood above him and he stood up to greet her with a short peck on the cheek.

“Somebody has to,” Halbrand answered playfully and his wife shot him a glance, which made his son giggle.

“Stop sayin' nonsense and let's go back home,” she shook her head and walked away slowly.

He watched his children follow her happily and he did, too, but much slower as he stared at the sun setting on the horizon. The sky looked like a canva full of pink and orange hues and he took a deep breath in at the beauty of it.

It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.

And perhaps this whole life was built on a lie because he couldn't imagine telling (Y/N) the truth about who he truly was and that her real husband had been dead for years. That he had died because of gambling and drinking after leaving her alone when she was being attacked by the Orcs. There was no point in telling her even if she would somehow believe him. It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.

“Ye comin', Hal?” His wife's voice brought him back to reality.

Halbrand nodded at her and joined her side to take his daughter by her little hand.

After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.

MASTERLIST

[sexcromancy]

in this post, I will use complit to explore the bodyswap theme in Nona the ninth. in january i read isle mcelroy's people collide, a pretty good litfic novel with a great premise: a husband and wife experience an unexplained body swap and have to adjust to possibly permanent life in a body that is both wrong and right for them in unexpected ways. mcelroy's very thinky treatment of this idea really crystallized and brought forward some ideas I had about palamedes, camilla, and paul on my most recent ntn reread. mcelroy's novel focuses mainly on the husband now living in the wife's body, who discovers shortly after waking up that way that his wife, in his body, has disappeared. when he finds her again she is preternaturally confident and self-satisfied, while he has struggled with his self-image and self-conception, but also found things to love about being in her body. in their scenes together upon reunion, especially the sex scenes, there is some really delicious focus on whose body is whose. this is partly done through clever wordplay and partly through narrator commentary. this is what really made me start thinking about palamedes and camilla.

nona, expert of the body, is constantly Noticing who is in camilla's body at any one time. if she doesn't know, it is assumed to be camilla until proven otherwise. even in scenes like palamedes' conversation with the angel (in the classroom, day 4), where we can tell its palamedes before nona explicitly says so, nona's narration is very specific about when the switch happens.

Camilla took her dark glasses off and folded them up neatly, to put in her breast pocket. Then she said quietly -- "May I ask a question?" Nona glanced up at Camilla's face, just to confirm it. "Go ahead," said the Angel, smiling without her eyes having anything to say about it. "Back on Lemuria, or anywhere else," said Palamedes...

this switch is notable to me for two reasons. first, as mentioned above, Nona is careful to refer to the person as Camilla, even though it is clear to us in hindsight that the switch must've happened at the very least before the coordinated trip intended to read the Angel's body with necromancy. second, camilla's body is still camilla's body, even with palamedes inside. this is even clearer later in the scene, with the line "Palamedes stepped Camilla's body forward." in the passage above, nona is looking at camilla's face, but not at camilla. to me, this kind of word trick is one of muir's most impressive and subtle talents.

practically every time nona witnesses a palamedes/camilla switch, she notices little details like the above. it underlines the theme of body ownership again and again. it is camilla's body, palamedes can only pilot it temporarily. to nona, it is never his, even for a moment. i think that this is part of what it so absolutely world-shakingly terrifying for nona about paul, and why paul's emergence foretells nona's understanding of the "middle thought." nona doesn't know basically anything about necrocav dynamics, and as an outside observer, she doesn't understand the way palamedes had rights to camilla's body (even if he rarely exercised them) even before inhabiting it. so when she witnesses paul, she is watching what we can understand as a logical endstate of their lifelong relationship, but what she can only understand as a complete and final subsuming of a body that was always only camilla's. nona has been told for the entire book up to this point that the body she's in does not belong to her, and paul forces her to finally face the reality that she might genuinely lose rights to it.

to bring these thoughts together, both muir and mcelroy are building on the idea of bodily autonomy and ownership. they both futz with who lives in a body in order to create strange, heightened, circumstances. and they both highlight those moments with clever wordplay around who is acting in who's body at a given moment. with mcelroy, we are inside the bodyswap, and it is a very intimate experience centered almost entirely on the two characters. with muir, nona's view of camilla and palamedes is our primary focus for this theme. it might be easy to forget that pyrrha, judith, ianthe, kiriona, and nona herself are all also in similar body-ownership plots, because they receive even less focus. its certainly one of the main themes of this book, as well as the series as a whole. it feels obvious, but the complexity and depth of the execution is underdiscussed.

[evilghostwizard]

Rating TMA Fears

Rating Criteria:

how many shivers i get (shivers)

amount of icks i get (icks)

if i audibly react to it (reactions)

is it cool as fuck (intrigue)

notes deconstructing the fear cus I like to talk about it

These are based off of personal opinion and not factual. Fears definitely effect different people differently.

1.) Buried

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 3/5

Reactions: 5/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 5

Notes: Before witnessing TMA I did not know I had a fear of being buried alive. TMA taught me the earth can be devious and hungry. When before I viewed it as lovely and protecting. The buried doesn't mean to be deceptive which I think is the most terrifying part. It's alluring petrichor and earth scents are meant to be warnings. Warnings I saw through rose tinted glasses. I used to visit local caves a lot around my local area. I no longer wish to do that anymore. It freaked me out so bad it has irreparably changed my life. Very good writing. It is simultaneously my favorite and least favorite. Well done rusty quill.

2.) Corruption

Shivers: 3/5

Icks: 5/5

Reactions: 4/5

Intrigue: 2/5

TOTAL SCORE: 3.5

Notes: Ew ew ew ew ew ew... Bugs are cool but not in me or my house thanks. Horrible, disgusting, terrible little creatures. Do not touch my skin, thank you. Wonderfully done to put it in the focus of the first season to draw in all the horror fans and cortisol addicts. The corruption puts much emphasis on emotional responses that should not be had in the context they are had in. Love replaces repulsion. Comfort stands while disgust falls. All while it digs in your skin and tears through your life. The desolation destroys your life out of anger while the corruption festers in your bones because of its affection for its victims.

3.) Dark

Shivers: 2/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 2/5

Intrigue: 1/5

TOTAL SCORE: 1.5

Notes: The dark in TMA has only ever spooked me when there was fleshy or stranger bits involved. I do however enjoy the idea that there is something in the dark that's desires are beyond my knowledge. Beyond even the knowledge of the Eye. Not a favorite that I am rather indifferent too. However, there is the interesting theme TMA uses when utilizing the dark. It touches on the concept of what hides in the dark. As well as how it claims those writhing with despairing as it's own and desperately asks them to worship. It begs them to work in it's name. It grasps for control that only the web can have by manipulating hopeless people.

4.) Desolation

Shivers: 2/5

Icks: 2/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 3/5

TOTAL SCORE: 2.5

Notes: The desolation comes off as almost helpful in some cases. It causes truths to be revealed but comes with a hint of destructive mystery as well. The fact that it assists the Eye is a fascinating choice of writing that left me wanting more. We have all lost important things to the lightless flame so it is a very relatable entity. The combination of terror and power is a lovely touch drawn by the writers. I do enjoy the gasps I get when skin melts or when the beloved are ignited. Interesting. Almost liberating to be destroyed beyond recognition. Not the spookiest of the lot but still good.

5.) End

Shivers: 4/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 3.5

Notes: One of my favorites despite its score. I love the motifs of chance and gambling. I love the tendrils. I enjoy that it is a passive entity. It does not need to chase you because you will always run to it regardless of where you go. I enjoy the dream themes as well but I have always enjoyed to concept of dreams. To think when we dream we are grazing the finger tips of the end is delicious to think of. Very mysterious yet so finite and sure. The duality is written perfectly and I honestly wish there were more episodes of this entity. But maybe the mystery of it is what makes it so tantalizing and alluring.

6.) Extinction

Shivers: 4/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 4/5

TOTAL SCORE: 3.5

Notes: Very close to home for this one. My parents were dooms-day preppers so I'm very familiar with the feeling of mass extinction. I enjoy this one because it comments on how humans have terribly effected our world/civilization. It is a fear we have placed upon ourselves, much like the slaughter. It is not natural for a great change like in TMA to happen without human intervention. Interesting and compelling writing overall but unfortunately does not spook me that much because of my background. I am desensitized to it. Although it is still on the horizon always. Peaking it's head to make us pay for what we have done.

7.) Eye

Shivers: 2/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 4/5

Intrigue: 4/5

TOTAL SCORE: 3

Notes: The eye is stimulating. The eye takes a role no other fear takes in TMA. This entity is prideful and almost appears to have a hero complex. It knows all, it sees all. But it doesn't understand all. That is clear whenever the eye interacts with other fears. Particularly the dark or the corruption. It isn't scary because it is watching me. It is terrifying because it thinks it knows what is best for me. Even when it clearly doesn't. The eye and the web sometimes work together for this commonality. It doesn't ick me out to be watched like it once did. The eye may see me. It may know me, but it does not know how I experience things. And despite its seeming all-knowingness. It'll never know everyone's experiences. It just sees them.

8.) Flesh

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 5/5

Reactions: 4/5

Intrigue: 3/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4.5

Notes: I think this one got me bad for two reasons. The first reason being, body horror. It is intriguing and horrible. The flesh is a reminder that despite our intellect that we are piles of biomass. We can face disfigurement at any turn that can forever change our experiences. The second reason taps into our primal roots of fear. Most animals don't want to be someones lunch and the flesh reminds us of that fear. You are made of the same material as the meat you have on your dinner plate. Our biology is fragile and easily torn. It genuinely makes my stomach sick every time a flesh episode comes up. The only reason this one isn't a 5/5 is because the more I think about it, the less I desire to think about it. Fantastic writing. I will stop thinking about it now.

9.) Hunt

Shivers: 3/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 4/5

Intrigue: 2/5

TOTAL SCORE: 2.5

Notes: The hunt is interesting. It makes me feel similarly to how the desolation makes me feel. It is terror but it is also power. Like the flesh, it sinks into our primate brains and reminds us what it is like to experience being prey. It doesn't often feel great to be somethings food. However, the hunt doesn't just rule the prey. There is horrible panic and dread in being the hunted but there is pleasure and satisfaction from being the hunter. It embodies what it feels like to be the predator. The thill of hunting is truly exciting when you aren't the prey. The power dynamic of being the predator makes you feel sadistic gratification.

10.) Lonely

Shivers: 3/5

Icks: 5/5

Reactions: 2/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4

Notes: Another fear that calls to my life experiences. To be lonely is to be numb. Apathy is a roadblock for drive. To block drive is to exist adrift to no where with nothing to do. What is the purpose? There isn't one. It is bitter and dissatisfactory entity. The lonely does not scare you until you are in it. Forced to face the fact that without others you are nothing. You are surrounded by people but they care not for your existence. So much to the point where you feel alone despite the people around you. This fear lightly draws from our fundamental human need for companionship. It seems harmless but you won't know it's true horror until you've experienced it yourself.

11.) Slaughter

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 4/5

Reactions: 5/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 5

Notes: The slaughter has to be my favorite of the entities. It is another fear conjured by humanity. Its existence is evoked by meaningless carnage just for the sake of violence. The imagery of war instruments like drums and pipes give an incredibly cool and eerie vibe. There are NOT enough slaughter themed episodes in TMA. In spite of the minimal amount of time put into this entity the few episodes focused on it are so gorily and beautifully written. The Piper episode is my favorite episode. The imagery that captures "The War" is perfect. The wrath, terror and determined stoicism descriptions will stick with me for years. The slaughter is meaningless and yet it must happen. It must continue. It must bleed.

12.) Spiral

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 2/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4

Notes: I enjoy the spiral for its concepts of unreality. What is, isn't. Insanity has always been a captivating idea. Fractal patterns and impossible realms are fantastical enough to draw me in to engage. Mystery with no answer is alluring to puzzle solvers. The parts of the spiral that infect me with horror are the deceptive friendships. It is a terrible thought to think those who are closest to you are lying to you. It hits very close to home. Gaslighting is terrifying. What are you meant to do besides trust the people you have invited into your circle. Betrayal is a parasite. It feeds off of love and trust. Who can you trust now?

13.) Stranger

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 3/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 4/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4.5

Notes: The unknown is the most universally feared entity I think. The stranger is something we have all experienced fear for at least a little bit. Many of us were warned about the stranger as children. The unknown makes us wary and confused. It doesn't gaslight us as much as the spiral but it does lie. It does tell us to ignore the uncanny valley reaction you get when you see it. It is human but isn't. The unfamiliar familiarity in them is the most terrifying. Especially because I don't experience uncanny valley often. Even when I should.

14.) Vast

Shivers: 5/5

Icks: 1/5

Reactions: 3/5

Intrigue: 5/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4

Notes: I am already written a paper about the vast. I adore the concept of the void. It does not ick me as much as the other fears because of my massive interest in the concept. It is scary to feel small, it can cause hopelessness. I have found in some people, like myself, it causes euphoria. It relieves the pressures of human life by letting us know those worries that seem so important are actually not really that big of a deal. I think the episodes exploring the concept are beautiful and anxiety ridden. I still think there should be more of the vast in TMA.

15.) Web

Shivers: 4/5

Icks: 3/5

Reactions: 4/5

Intrigue: 4/5

TOTAL SCORE: 4

Notes: The web is an entity that easily draws you in with a false sense of security. It allows you to be free of the need to make decisions. It is peaceful to be controlled. Although we are often blinded when we are controlled to the motives of the controller. We are deceived into believing the puppet master means us no harm. You lose who you are as you perform the spiders assignments. You drift away into peaceful sleep. Just to be eaten when you are at your most vulnerable.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Fives Thoughts

Sooooo I literally just made a post being like 'here are some fun bits from Umbara because the arc is depressing and I don't wanna talk about the sad bits' but uh... I had thoughts in the last 15 mins and now I wanna share them. 😃

And of course tagging as usual for people I'm interested to hear opinions from: @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace

It's been a while since I watched these story arcs back-to-back, so a lot of the character development is really showing atm. And one I find interesting is a shift in Fives between The Citadel and Umbara.

Fives has always had a bit of a firey personality, but up until this point he's been a little bit held back with that passion for the most part. And I'm gonna touch in something that @novaceleste and @spaceyjessa spoke about in their podcast (@coffeeandclones I was just listening to it the other day and they talk about some interesting points. Defo recommend you check it out. Also #JusticeForDroidbait2024) because it really is the basis for this whole point. Despite Fives being the brasher, slightly more hardheaded personality, and Echo being the more by-the-books one, it's Echo that tends to do a lot of the talking when authority is involved. When they speak to Shaak Ti, it's Echo that takes the lead, while Fives is a little more hesitant.

And when they first meet Rex and Cody, Fives automatically introduces himself as CT-27-5555, despite being very open about his displeasure of being called that throughout their training. He has this louder personality but he tends to draw into himself and panic slightly when put in front of authority.

However, he still has these more fiery moments, like during his speech in ARC Troopers. When he's put in a fight, that spark within him comes out full force. "My blood is boiling for a fight." That's what drives Fives. That's where that passion comes from. He always wanted to make ARC trooper, to prove himself and to demonstrate that fire in the fight.

And yet when we get to the Citadel, he's surprisingly nervous. Echo seems to be fairly on board with everything, he's listening intently, he's down with the plan. But Fives is rather hesitant and doesn't seem totally enthused about the whole thing. They've made ARC trooper, they're being included in a specialist mission, the things that Fives so desperately worked for. But now that they're here? He's really not comfortable with it.

And I think that Fives' passion and drive is so prominent in the heat of battle because his adrenaline is going, he's got the energy to burn and so that's when we see this fire in him. But in the quieter moments, the meetings, the in-between fights? He's nervous. Those are the moments where he can sit on it and really think about what they're up against. And what becomes really apparent is that Fives is absolutely terrified of the thing that fuels his fire. The thing he worked so hard for scares the absolute shit out of him. And for good reason.

But it's never been so much of an issue because he had Echo. Echo, who's more level headed, who feels comfortable with plans and formats and authority. He could be the comforting presence that Fives needed outside of battle, while Fives could be the spark in it. They're like fire and water. They keep each other regulated, balanced.

But then The Citadel happens.

And watching the Umbara arc, I noticed that Fives doesn't have that very noticeable fear. It's not that it's absent, it's just that it isn't so obvious all of the time. Of course, some of that is going to come with experience, he's been an ARC for longer, he's know Rex for a while so there's slightly more comfort with that level of authority, but he's definitely more consistently confident than he was before.

So my suggestion is, what if that comes as a result of losing Echo (at least in part)? He doesn't have that calming presence anymore, the one to balance his nerves. He doesn't have someone to stand firm beside him or take the bigger step for the two of them, so he's had to learn to do that himself. I think part of it is natural growth that comes with experience (to quote Rex: "experience outranks everything") but I do also think it comes with no longer having that constant other half. Fives has had to learn to balance himself.

Like I said earlier, a lot of this links back to stuff said in Nova and Jessa's podcast, so I'd recommend checking it out. But I just wanted to add my extra thoughts on it, having just watched Umbara, because it definitely stuck out to me on this rewatch.

[misshoneyimhome]

Hey ! Saw that you may write for Nathan Mackinnon!

Could you please write something really sweet and domestic, maybe husband!nathan, I absolutely love you writing! So thank you if you can !

Thank you so much, babe! ❤️ So, I’ve done my best to put together a little husband!Nathan one-shot, and I really hope I’ve managed to somewhat capture his character 😊 I hope you enjoy it!

Tropes & Warnings: No warnings, Husband!Nathan, just pure fluff, and a touch of humour as the reader lovingly tells Nathan to get over himself 😉

Word count: 1.1K

➼｡ﾟ

Through the Dark I Husband!Nathan Mackinnon ✐

Nathan MacKinnon had always carried himself with unshakable confidence. It wasn’t arrogance—just certainty. He knew who he was and what he was capable of: speed, precision, an unrelenting drive that set him apart as one of the NHL’s elite. It had earned him the respect of his teammates, the adoration of fans, and the fear of opponents. But lately, that certainty had started to crack.

The stats still painted him as a star—goals, assists, the usual accolades. But no amount of numbers could disguise how hollow it all felt. No matter how many hours he poured into training, how many drills he ran until his muscles screamed for mercy, something was missing. His movements on the ice felt disconnected, as if his body had forgotten what his mind knew by heart. The ice, once his sanctuary, now felt foreign.

He’d had slumps before—every player did. But this was different. It wasn’t just his game faltering; it was him. Every missed pass, every fumbled puck, every critical comment from analysts chipped away at his confidence, leaving behind splintered fragments of doubt. What if I’ve peaked? What if I can’t pull myself out of this? What if I let everyone down? My team, the fans… you.

You.

The thought of you twisted the knife deeper. You, his rock, his safe place, his wife. You’d stood by him through every high and low, through every triumph and heartbreak. He still remembered the way you looked the first time he saw you—a smile that made him forget how to form a coherent sentence. You’d teased him mercilessly when he tripped over his words, and he’d been hooked ever since.

Your love had been a slow burn, built on late-night conversations and stolen moments in the off-season. When he’d finally worked up the nerve to confess his feelings, it had been like scoring the winning goal in overtime—euphoric and terrifying all at once. And when he’d proposed to you under the glittering snowfall of a New Year’s Eve, he’d been certain nothing could ever compare to that victory. Not even the Stanley Cup.

But now, those memories felt like they belonged to someone else. A version of himself that didn’t second-guess every move, that didn’t stay at the rink until midnight, chasing something he couldn’t define. He’d been avoiding you without meaning to, throwing himself into extra practices and solitary workouts. The truth was, he was afraid—afraid that you’d see him like this. That you’d see through his carefully constructed façade and realise he wasn’t enough.

The arena was dark and silent as he skated in slow, aimless circles. Midnight had come and gone, and he knew you’d be waiting for him at home. But the thought of walking through the door, of facing you and pretending he was fine, felt unbearable.

The sharp sound of footsteps broke through the stillness. He looked up, startled, and saw you standing by the edge of the rink. You were bundled in your favourite coat, a scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, your eyes glinting with equal parts concern and determination.

“Seriously, Nate?” you called, stepping carefully onto the ice. “It’s one in the morning. Do you have any idea what kind of scenarios I’ve been imagining? Ditches, kidnappings, alien abductions…”

“I texted,” he muttered weakly, his voice barely carrying.

“Once. At eight. That doesn’t count.” Your tone softened as you drew closer. “What’s going on?”

He sighed, leaning on his stick like it was the only thing keeping him upright. “I didn’t want to bring this home.”

“And yet, here I am.” You stepped in front of him, your boots sliding slightly on the ice. “Talk to me.”

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Finally, he muttered, “I feel like I’m failing. On the ice. In life. Everywhere.” He paused, his voice cracking. “What if… what if I don’t get it back? What if I’m never the same? What if you realise I’m not enough?”

Your chest tightened at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting through you like a blade. Without hesitation, you took his stick and set it aside, then placed your hands on his face, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Nathan MacKinnon,” you said firmly, “you are more than enough. Whether you score a hundred goals or never lace up your skates again, you’re the man I love. You. The guy who buys me flowers on random Tuesdays. The guy who hogs the pillows but always makes sure I have the softest one. The guy who sings Backstreet Boys at the top of his lungs when he thinks no one’s listening.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “I don’t sing,” he protested.

“Oh, you do,” you said, arching an eyebrow. “And it’s terrible. But I love it anyway. I love you.”

He looked down, blinking rapidly, as if trying to hide the emotions welling up in his eyes. “What if I can’t fix this?” he whispered.

“Then we figure it out together,” you replied without hesitation. “But you need to stop shutting me out. I’m here, Nathan. Always.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his gaze locked on yours. Then, with a shaky breath, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it felt like he was afraid you might slip away. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your hair.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in your own. “Oh, you absolutely don’t. But lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a surprised laugh, the sound echoing through the empty rink and chasing away the shadows that had been haunting him.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go home. You look like you haven’t eaten in hours, and I’m not above bribing you with pizza.”

Later, as you curled up together on the couch, the smell of reheated pizza lingering in the air, Nathan felt something shift inside him. You were nestled against him, your legs tangled with his under the blanket, your head resting on his chest. His fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns on your arm as he stared down at you.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” he murmured, his voice soft but teasing.

“Part of my charm,” you quipped, grinning up at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you,” he said simply, his voice thick with gratitude.

“Good thing I love you too,” you replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

And in that moment, as the warmth of your love wrapped around him, Nathan felt the weight in his chest begin to lift. He didn’t have all the answers, but he didn’t need to. Because whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew he wouldn’t face them alone.

With you by his side, he could navigate any darkness. Together, you’d always find the light.

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away, Chapter 5

Things we don’t speak of.

Not beta read lol

Tw: talks about ptsd and healing, and legend self loathing but are we surprised? No.

“So.” The traveler said, eyes drooping as he and the veteran walked out of your room. He was still exhausted.

“So.” The veteran mirrored him.

“Are we going to talk about that?”

The veteran took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. “Link. There are some things we don’t talk about… things we don’t speak of….” He took another breath. “This is one of them.”

“Often, those are the things we need to speak of most… you know I’ll understand more than anyone.” The traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to him slightly, a pained expression on his face. “…but will you? Will you really?”

“Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

The veteran stalled, looking off beside the traveler’s head. “…no.”

“Exactly. Let me in.” His grip on the vet’s shoulder tightened slightly. Comfortingly. That pressure was comforting.

The vet pulled him down the stairs and outside. He was never good at talking about his feelings and trauma, and goddesses forbid anyone else being around to hear it. He took a deep breath and looked off, not wanting to look the traveler in the face while he spoke.

“…one of my adventures consisted of…” he paused. “a dream. And that was the only time I’ve ever… trusted someone with—me… and that wound me up losing who at the time I was so sure was the love of my life. I lost her to this big stupid windfish. The entire thing was fake—it was the windfish’s dream and i had to wake him up. Marin was gone after that. The island was gone.” He fought back the bile rising in his throat. “It’s all just a distant memory now but-…. All the time, I’m terrified of waking up and everything being a dream. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I can’t let myself be happy, and I hate it. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?”

The veteran finally looked over at the traveler, tears in his eyes and threatening to spill. The traveler wrapped him in a tight hug. “Fear does that, Link. Creeps up on you. Sometimes you’ll go ages without thinking about it and then all of a sudden bam. You’re back in. You feel like you’ve been dragged back, claw marks in the dirt—but you haven’t. You don’t have to start over every time you have a flashback. And you don’t have to stop yourself from being happy… you can let yourself be happy. Don’t waste your life waiting on the other shoe will drop… Cause you’ll realize it never will, and realize you’ve spent so long trying to survive that you never lived.”

The veteran took a deep breath and his shoulders shook. He was crying. That soft, quiet cry developed into a sob as years of unprocessed trauma and heartbreak came forth, flowing out like a cup of wine left under a running tap. Healing.

“If—it happened so long ago—why does it still hurt so bad?” He choked out, muffled by the traveler’s tunic.

“It’s like a bone.” He said softly. “When a bone heals wrong, you have to break it again so it will heal properly. Then you can use it.” He rubbed his back.

The veteran felt small. He realized this was the smallest he’d ever felt in his life. He always saw the traveler as his younger brother. Someone he had to protect. Someone he loved more than himself…now, he felt like the little brother. Felt like a little boy. A kid. Cradled by his older brother, hidden away from what cruelty lies outside. Safe. The veteran felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” The traveler spoke again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you… and I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone there for you then… im sorry you feel like you need to be guarded all the time. You don’t… not with us, at least… we are all here for you. Anything you need…”

The vet nodded. He sat up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. “Thanks, man…” he sighed heavily, head feeling heavy and thick from crying. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he hated it. He hated to cry. Hated feeling small and weak.

“A bone has to be rebroken before it can heal properly.” He remembered. He wasn’t weak. He was healing.

“Really.” He spoke again. “I really, really appreciate it… thank you.” He hugged him tight.

“Always. I’m always here. So are the others…” he pulled away when the veteran did. A cold breeze passed through them and they both shuddered. “We should get inside. You need sleep.”

“..i can’t go back in there with her. I don’t—“ the veteran tried to make excuses but they died on his tongue when the traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can. Just go in there. You were rooming together anyway… she’s alright. Healed, thanks to whatever powers she’s got. Go sleep in a bed.” He smiled. “You’ll wish you had a bed to sleep in a few days from now.”

The veteran huffed a laugh for the first time in a good few days. “Got that right…” they made their way back inside. Everyone had gone to bed by now. They went up to their rooms, the traveler pausing while the veteran went inside. “Night, traveler.”

“Goodnight, vet.” He smiled. “Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut and the traveler went off to bed.