#for the most part i have just been guessing. assuming. 'cause they all Tend to have Generally humanoid bodies with obvious heads

[front-facing-pokemon]

[alisonwritesimagines]

Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~

Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.

Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.

Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.

You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.

“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."

You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.

“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.

“I see.”

“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.

“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.

“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.

“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."

"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.

Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.

"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.

"Just burned myself," you tell him.

Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.

"Thanks," you tell him.

"Of course."

"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.

"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.

"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.

"I see."

"So, dinner?"

"Why not."

—

Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.

"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.

"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.

"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.

"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.

You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.

"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.

"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.

"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.

-

As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.

"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.

"What?" You asked in shock.

"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.

"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.

"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.

"Yes."

Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.

-

Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.

Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.

"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."

"Her husband?"

"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.

"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"

"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."

—

Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.

"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.

"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.

"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.

"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.

"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."

"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.

"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.

"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.

"Not entirely."

Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.

"Shanks?" You asked in shock.

"Hi, Y/n."

-

You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.

“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.

“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.

“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.

“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."

“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.

“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.

“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will."

"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.

"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.

"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.

“Goodbye, my love.”

—

You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.

“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.

“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.

“You most certainly did,” you smiled.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.

“Over here!” You called from where you were.

You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.

“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.

“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”

“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.

“I like your necklace,” you say.

“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.

“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.

“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.

“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.

At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.

Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.

[yuurei20]

I've noticed Epel keeps adding 'kana' to the end of his sentences. What does it mean?

Hello hello! Thank you so, so much for this question, I have always wanted to mention this.

“Kana” can be a multitude of things in English, such as “probably,” “I guess,” “I think,” “I wonder,” etc. A basic explanation would be, “a word used to express uncertainty,” but like most things when it comes to language, that is not the only thing it does.

A quick review of Epel: from his first day at NRC he has been under order from Vil to “speak more politely,” as he tends to use informal speech with his senpai.

As you point out, Epel often adds “kana” to what he is saying, and that is because one of the things that it can do is ‘soften’ something that you’re saying in order to make it sound less direct, and thus more polite.

Examples: Epel telling Kalim that his assumption is wrong, telling Vil that he disagrees with him, saying that his Phantom Bride look is weird, etc., these are all sentences that he is awkwardly gentling via “kana,” often after several ellipses or a comma, as though it is not a part of his normal speech pattern.

This gets into cultural differences: When Ace assumes that Epel is dedicated to a certain brand of apple juice, for example, an English-speaking Epel could probably respond, “That’s not actually the case!,” without sounding rude. But that could be interpreted as a little brusque in Japanese.

In order to soften the expression Epel adds “kana” at the end, which sounds more like, “That might not be the case,” “I’m not sure that is exactly what is going on,” etc., in English.

Even though he knows for 100% certainty that he is not actually dedicated to a certain brand of juice, he is still using “kana” in order to not sound too straightforward.

(screenshot from maggiesensei.com)

(This can and does cause issues when moving in between languages: a Japanese learner who only knows that “kana” means “I think” might not add it onto sentences where they are certain about something, and thus risk annoying their Japanese-speaking colleagues, for example. In contrast, an English learner may say “I think” too often, leading their English-speaking colleagues to wonder why they don’t seem to actually know anything. It’s all part of the joy of language and culture!)

While there are several words in Japanese that can be used to soften your phrasing, Epel seems to have latched onto “kana” in particular, possibly because it is an easy word to add on to the last part of what might otherwise be a rude sentence in an attempt to avoid a reprimand from Vil. 

Other times Epel will belatedly add “desu” onto his sentences, also in a bid to sound more polite than he is used to speaking. 

If you are a language learner I would not recommend using Epel as an example of when to use “kana,” as he will sometimes shoehorn it into places in an unnatural way (as a part of his character).

EN is doing its best to recreate Epel’s “kana” by including things like “kind of,” “not sure” and “maybe” in his dialogue, but as sounding uncertain doesn’t necessarily mean you sound polite in English, this may not be having the same effect. And I have no idea how they would go about recreating this habit of Epel’s in a way that can properly portray what is happening in English—it might just be one of those things that gets lost in translation :<

Bonus: The Japanese language has four different alphabets (kanji, katakana, hiragana, romaji), and katakana is the alphabet used for foreign loanwords. 

Whereas other characters who use honorifics have “-kun” and “-san” written in hiragana in their dialogue, Epel’s dialogue uses katakana. This is possibly meant to symbolize how using honorifics in these situations is foreign to him, and he is not used to it.

(When he does shift into using honorifics in hiragana, it is only when he is talking to people from his own village: people he is used to!)

[system-of-a-feather]

is there anything you wish youd known about DID-specific therapy before you started? sorry if thats weird or vague, i just finally have a therapist that treats DID and im both nervous and relieved about it, so i guess im just wondering if you have advice as someone who has made so much progress with your own DID

God yeah there is a lot honestly. Like there are a lot of general rules of thumb that I've seen get mentioned here that I can say are usually really good things I found to be mostly true in my experience like

Persecutors are frequently demonized and they can be INCREDIBLY hard to work with, but they are incredibly important, often are parts that are capable of having the most growth and tend to add the most to the system once you figure out a good way to communicate and work with them; that said, don't push anything you aren't capable of handling, if they are being too much, safety first; just remember that they're probably some of the best allies you can have should you make things work with them; there is little stronger bonds - both between parts and as a whole - formed when you can befriend and trust someone / the part of you that you've always hated / avoided. Loving persecutors is self love and self love is important for healing

While keeping track of your parts can be helpful, try not to obsess and fixate on trying to find all the parts and figure out when and where everyone came from. It can become overwhelming (especially if you have a lot of parts), you might find parts and things you aren't ready to deal with if you try to look too hard, and it can take away from the important processing, bonding, communication, and present issues you might be facing as a whole

Its okay to relapse on maladaptive behaviors, especially if it keeps you safe and/or from relapsing or starting potentially more risky / dangerous / harmful maladaptive behaviors. Two steps forward, one step back, it's still progress so try not to be hard on yourself. Struggling and fumbling is part of recovery, you aren't bad, or wrong, or uniquely "broken" or anything for struggling through recovery. Recovery is just fucking hard and engaging with it at all is a really amazing and powerful thing.

Integration =/= Fusion. Integration is just improving and increasing the communication, connectivity, and fluidity of information and coordination of parts. Integration is inherent in any form of DID treatment.

On top of that, I think some of the ones I don't see talked about as much would be...

Splitting, while often assumed to be a negative thing and a result of trauma (true and sometimes!), can be very healing when you look at it from a larger lens. This isn't to say that you should want to split or seek to make new alters as a coping mechanism, because I'd probably say in most situations that is probably not healthy. This is more so saying that if your brain wants to / needs to / does split, its okay to just let it happen. Trying to actively prevent splits can cause a lot of emotional / trauma overwhelm and risk crisis states and honestly, sometimes its easier to deal with two (or more) contained and stable parts than it is to deal with one complex and unstable part. Likewise, sometimes it is easier to be two (or more) contained stable parts than it is to exist as one complex and unstable part. Splitting sometimes - and often is - a mechanism to maintain stability and keep life for all parts within a relative "window of tolerance" that you can function in. Splitting isn't a moral failure or a recovery failure or anything special. Splitting is just part of the journey of recovery and a lot of people split after they start recovery cause it can be a pretty hard thing to go through. You aren't alone if this happens and it is just part of the process and journey.

Similar to that and something that we've been talking on this blog a lot and trying to spread...

Fusion does not have to be a final thing. Fusion does not have to be a huge and notable event. Fusion can last anywhere from a few minutes, to a few hours, to a few months, to forever depending on what works for you. If a fusion isn't working for you or isn't sticking, your brain will likely re-split and if it doesn't, you can always actively try to undo it and we've done it multiple times pretty successfully. Fusion ALSO isn't anything special, it's something that just happens. Fusion and splitting are two sides of the same coin and really aren't anything as permanent or anything that carries any inherent value to it beyond what it means to you as an individual / whole.

And probably one of the things that I was the most astonished by

You don't actually have to process all your trauma to be at a place with your DID where you are considered to be "in remission" or to even reach functional multiplicity / final fusion. A lot of the meat of DID-focused therapy and recovery and improvement to life is not as much in the trauma processing as much as it is in the stabilization period; that is just to say, the main meat of growth, recovery, and improvement is found by working with your parts to establish an internal support system, internal trust with one another, and deeply getting to know each of the parts. Of course, trauma processing will happen along the way, but you can get EXTREMELY far with recovery simplly by focusing on the stability of the system, how you each support and communicate and coordinate with one another, and dealing with the trauma topics that come up in the immediate present. A good way to think about it is that the stabilization period is essentially creating a strong foundation and a strong base so that you feel secure and confident navigating basic day to day life with a lot of internal love and support and the trust that you and your parts can support eachother through a SHIT ton of stuff. If you can develop an internal relationship with your parts and your system that is very strong and built on trust and care, then dealing with trauma and adversities become WAY easier. Thus it can be a lot easier to postpone any heavy trauma processing that is not actively relevant and actively necessary to help improve internal relationships until AFTER you have a stronger and more secure realtionship with your parts. Thus I would suggest focusing on the present issues, the things parts are feeling and experiencing in the moment, and addressing those rather than trying to uncover every secret and trauma that you may or may not remember. If the trauma is something you are ready to deal with and it's relevant, your brain will bring it up when the time is right. Trust your brain thats protected you thus far and kept you alive thus far to let you know things when you are ready to know it, but also don't be afraid to ask parts for help if it does share more than you are ready. That's just to say - Don't Dig for information you don't want to know, but if something comes up that you don't feel equipt to deal with, its completely okay to seek internal or external help to try leave it behind. Again, especially early on, the focus should be on stabilization rather than trauma processing.

And just a little small one about online spaces and what not, but try not to worry too much abotu whether your experiences with the disorder align with others, or if you look "fake" or what not. A lot of recovery will look like things people who don't know better would think is "impossible with DID" and online spaces tend to be a place where a false image of what things "should" look like is kind of developed. Whatever you experience is what you experience and is inherently a real and true experience. Don't try to force yourself to fit into the expectation and boxes of others as it will often slow down your progress.

[meyousing]

𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒, 𝙰𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: after illumi removes the needle from your head, he must wonder if this was the right decision. little did he know that the after effects of it all was just what he needed to get his way.

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:  part three to subservient! yandere illumi, nsfw, manipulation + dirty talk, mentions of future impregnation. any sexual nsfw will be below the cut.

part one | part two

You couldn’t recall another time in the past when you had a headache this severe. Waking up and immediately being met with fierce throbbing in your temples, blurring your eyesight, an odd sore spot that was holding onto most of the pain right at the crown of your head. You could only try to whimper Illumi’s name, reaching out blindly for him in hopes that he was actually there and hadn’t left to complete his job of the day just yet. Relief filled you when you came into contact with his arm, clutching it desperately. He didn’t ask you what was wrong, he remained silent which you assumed was time given for you to explain yourself. 

“My head,” was all you could get out, wincing at another sharp pain and clutching where the sensation had erupted. All he offered was an indifferent-sounding hum, a noise that would have bothered you greatly from how it suggested his inattentiveness to your suffering, had you not been so distracted by that same suffering. 

“It would be best to spend your day in bed, recovering.” He took your hands in his to encourage you to lay down again, helping you onto your back. Recover from what exactly? Trying to decipher his words only bothered you further, though, so you shook that question away. Resting your head did not immediately alleviate anything, though putting your body into such a lax position certainly helped you feel less strained overall. 

You thanked him for his assistance, voice raspy and indicative of the low state you were in. You wanted to rest your arms over your forehead, covering your shut eyes from any light as it burned through your eyelids, but Illumi had yet to let go of you, even putting up some resistance as you tried to pull yourself away. You peered at him curiously, squinting immediately after from the tension it caused. 

“Will you be okay on your own today?” His tone of voice didn’t sound very concerned. He was rather curt, business-like, trying to get your answer as soon as possible to make arrangements so he could be off to tend to more pressing matters. The thought of any matter aside from your health existing at the forefront of Illumi’s mind hurt your heart, but you pushed that feeling aside and instead focused on answering his question. 

“I don’t know, I don’t feel any better yet.”

He hummed. An appraising sound; you were starting to get sick of trying to guess the emotion behind every sound and word he communicated, the uncertainty was only making you feel worse. You chewed your lip, tears suddenly threatening to spill past your waterlines. Today had begun for maybe a few minutes, yet it was already off to such an awful start. A whimper escaped you, fists clenching at the show of weakness that you didn’t want to draw attention to in the first place. Illumi’s hands squeezed yours, his fingers over the top of your fists. He remained wordless as he watched you struggle to hold your whimpers back, letting go of you but quickly rejoining your body as his fingers met your waist. 

“You had a rough night. It would be unwise to leave you in this state before I leave” he spoke thoughtfully, but any thoughts were regarding his plans, of course. Not your well-being. Again, you put some of your own thoughts into his words though; now that you tried to think about it, what happened last night? You couldn’t remember anything. Surely whatever did happen was the cause of your current pain, which would only become more unbearable the longer you used your brain. 

A beat of silence passed, then you felt Illumi’s cold lips on your neck. You couldn’t help but flinch, the kisses unexpected but not unwelcome as one of his hands began roaming to your hips and then your front. His hair tickled you as he pulled back, you could see his head tilt while he scanned over your body from head to toe. Or rather, head to hips.  

“Your health is of utmost importance right now. I’ll need to ensure that you’re relaxed before I go out.” 

His intentions on ensuring that were rather obvious by now, making you blush as his thumb traced down your nightgown until it hovered over your generously covered clit. Your bud remained that way very momentarily, he exerted no effort into pushing the thick gown up and your panties down, letting them stay stretched around your thighs rather than pulling them off entirely to spend as little time here as possible. Getting you off quickly rather than valuing passion and intimacy was expected, though you couldn’t help but desire the latter after dealing with such an extended feeling of vulnerability since you had woken up. No matter, the disappointment of knowing that wouldn’t happen was soothed over rather soon when Illumi’s thumb met your bare clit once and for all, his other four fingers pressing down against your lower stomach while his thumb pushed the hood of your clit back and pressed right onto your sensitivity with purpose and calculation. His motions were perfect, he knew just what to do to make your back arch and nerves tingle right away. That tingling extended to your head, replacing the aching that had been there previously with a pleasantly lightheaded feeling instead. Lightheaded, as if you were floating on cloud nine.  

“Good, good” he murmured hushedly. You bit back a moan as he continued on, letting him throw both of your legs over one of his shoulders. He leaned forward to expose your pussy to him further with the new position, his other hand joining in as he curled his middle finger over the index, flipping his hand palm up and pressing them inside of you. His ministrations on your clit left you wet enough to let him slide in with ease, joint fingertips pushing into your soft spot right away with his usual precision that you should have expected but did not this time given how fast he moved. 

You whined out, thighs trembling against him as the sensations were so faultlessly satisfying that your peak approached rapidly, too rapid for you to handle as your chest heaved and your hands reached at his forearms, gripping them brutally as if to help your body acclimate to such intense pleasure. You vaguely watched through teary eyes as one of his brows raised once you had done this, though he must not have cared too much since he continued fucking you earnestly as if you had done nothing at all. Your fingernails dug into his skin, and the amount of pressure and the ferocity of the motions left you shaking with one last cry before you came, pussy squeezing his hand further inside of you and soaking him as your hips churned to match his pace. He continued on for the entirety of your orgasm, allowing you to ride it out to its fullest until you had slumped into the mattress bonelessly. 

He withdrew his fingers when he could feel your muscles loosen beneath him, pulling himself off of you to stand near the bed. The release made your legs fall to your side, the rest of your body following the movement. You pressed your cheek into the pillow under you tiredly as you turned over, heaving to catch your breath. The material of your nightgown was pulled off to the side, you could see Illumi wiping his fingers off with it in your periphery. He placed the skirt back over your legs when he seemed satisfied, his chest lifting as he took in a breath and watched you, his expression bored as ever.

“Now, I’ll have a butler assigned to you for the day until I get home. Call for them when necessary, they’ll be waiting in the hall beside your door as per usual.” 

Before you could respond, his back was already facing you. You blinked once and saw much less of him then; only the ends of his dark hair following him out of the door, which closed promptly. You blinked again, taken aback by how quickly he was gone after such an intense experience. Well, clearly it was not intense for him, maybe it wasn’t even pleasurable for him to see you that way at all. The idea of this made you feel a bit insecure, your knees subconsciously tucking into your chest as you shut your eyes in an attempt to tune that idea out and away, hopefully for good. Despite there being a chance of that, one good thing to come of this was the immediate dissipation of your headache. 

Even though you felt much better without the headache, fatigue hit you like a truck after the energy you exerted into your intercourse. You were out once your eyes had been closed for a couple of seconds, unknowing that you would end up sleeping the day away. You were still not certain about what had incited the headache and major fatigue, and you weren’t sure if Illumi would know either. You didn’t want to ask him and start something, it could have been nothing. Perhaps just some random, short illness, even though Illumi was so doting about your health and wellness (if this morning was not enough of an indicator) that this shouldn’t have been a possibility. You were glad that the thought of bringing it up again left your mind before you fell into your slumber. 

Unlike most days, this one was just utterly full of Illumi. You hadn’t expected to sleep so deeply that you would be waking up as he arrived home from his hit, walking through the door and announcing that dinner would be ready soon, that you had to get up now. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, not feeling very rested despite your situation. But Illumi was here! It almost felt like he never left you at all, what with being here before and after your sleep. This rarely ever happens! The strength in his presence was what energized you, even encouraging you to get up and walk over to him. He was facing the dresser, now shirtless with his toned back on display, his newly bloodstained shirt discarded to the hamper. 

Illumi’s body went taut when your arms wrapped around his torso, hands clasping over his abdomen and your warm cheek squishing into his chilled shoulder blade. You couldn’t help but embrace him, even giving a little squeeze as you desired such closeness. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” 

“What do you mean? This isn’t the first time I’ve been affectionate with you” you frowned, a frown that could have been audible given your sour tone.

“I’m aware. But it usually isn’t of your own accord.” 

That was… true. You wanted to say that this was only partially true, but it was fully, though circumstantial. Illumi rarely being home was nothing new to you, of course, but when he finally came back you were always too tired from doing nothing to do anything other than eat dinner and follow him to bed. Any affection woven in between those parts of the routine was initiated by him, in front of his family, for an impression. It only got as major as holding hands or a protective arm around your waist, as minor as a glance in your direction with direct eye contact. Intimacy beyond that was sex intended for expanding the family, therefore making it lack intimacy when you knew Illumi’s only desires about you were for your eventual impregnation, nothing like your body or noises. 

This morning was a pleasant change from that, though. Your grin began to twitch upward as you remembered the events evocatively, the feeling of Illumi’s skillful fingers buried inside of you. It reminded you of your teenage years, made you feel like a rebellious young girl frolicking beneath the sheets with the guy she knew that she shouldn't like or be with. A quickie, ending almost as soon as it started yet still leaving you so elated and fluttery inside from it being something new, something refreshing. You sighed contentedly, releasing Illumi but still keeping your hands on him as you slid to his front, leaning in to press your chin against his chest and look up into his eyes. He stared back down at you, his face flat. 

His eyes were hypnotic in spite of how blandly he looked at you. So devoid of anything, yet so beguiling like a mystery you had to solve. Just what was he thinking? What could those eyes convey, if he allowed himself? What could you get them to convey? After he made you feel so good, you wanted to return the favour.

“I want to have your baby, Illumi.” These words were not spoken from a place of dishonesty, but you still wanted to see what they would do to him even if you didn’t mean it just yet. 

His lids lifted slightly. That was something. Something that made your insides stir, familiar with what you felt earlier today. Your desire to make those sensations mutual with him amped up, and you couldn’t stop yourself as you ran your hand down from his back and to the side of his thigh, gripping it for a moment before dragging your fingers in with the intent to hover them over his cock. 

His hand stopped yours before it could get beyond your sides, and now he looked at you inquisitively, but he still said nothing. He must have been able to tell that you weren’t done just yet. 

“Don’t you think I’m ready? I’ve stayed away from the heavy training, I’ve been staying relaxed for you. Ready for you.” Your voice was more like a purr, a tactic of seduction that probably wouldn’t even work on Illumi, yet your inhibitions were far too released for you to let rationality take over. You were telling him everything that he wanted to hear, that alone should have had an effect if your voice couldn’t. 

Nothing happened for a moment, the room was so quiet now that you were sure if Illumi was ever clumsy enough to allow one of his pins to drop, it would do so and sound loud.

 But then his lips met yours in a slam, intentionally gentle yet powerful by comparison to the standard you had set from previous kisses with Illumi. What usually made you feel like paper now made you feel unbreakable, perhaps you had finally reached the peak that Illumi wanted you to, allowing him to use such ferocity without thinking that you would shatter from it. His grip on your hand relented so he could grab the sides of your face instead, his fingers weaving back into your hair after he had kissed you to the point of breathlessness, and pulled his lips away with a wet pop. Your eyes fluttered open, panting as you looked up at him; those short breaths now hitching as you could swear his own eyes were now swirling as they bore into you. He turned and began walking you towards the bed, hardly enforcing any effort considering how complicit you were with his movements right away. His eyes were just so hypnotic right now…his voice sounded muted to you when he began to speak, with how little focus you put into anything but maintaining your shared gaze. Your knees met with the mattress and you collapsed, seated as Illumi massaged your scalp, his fingertips focusing on the crown of your head, and his next words were loud and clear.

“I knew you would reach perfection eventually. What a good little wife you are to me, Y/N.” 

Problem solved.

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work. 

[blorboazula]

part 2 of this, so more of the "and who knew spitting blue fire during a mental breakdown might cause damage?" AU because some people liked it. I guess cw for more detailed mentions of burn and implied past child neglect. (buy me a coffee)

Katara's not surprised that the room smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke, the princess smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke – not that Katara paid any attention, they simply stood almost close a few times. Like right now. Like right now when she's sitting on the bed, Azula in front of her and patiently watching her.

There's curiosity there, behind the instinctual apprehension, Katara ignores it. She hasn't noticed that there's specks of glimmering, pure gold among the sea of bronze so dark it looks brown sometimes. Any other situation, it'd all feel oddly intimate. Healing has that power sometimes, holding someone's life under your fingertips.

Katara focuses on not showing it on her face: the damage is nearly catastrophic.

Katara has seen terrific burns before, fresh and healed, she grew desensitized to it for her own sake. She never saw internal burns. People aren't meant to survive fire melting the flesh inside them.

No wonder Azula doesn't talk, what's supposed to be delicate vocal chords is a mess of scar tissue. It explains her general lack of firebending, or could be one of the reasons, there's no way Azula is breathing properly when the inside of her throat is narrowed by the tissue.

Katara has assumed the tenseness on her shoulders is from the general stress of her current predicament. She assumed the slight grimace that seemed set on her face has been some sort of discontentment with her situation. But then the water glows around her neck and Azula just relaxes.

All this time, she has been in pain all this time.

Katara pulls the water away, palliative care like this tends to last for a few hours, she can do the same again later the next morning. She doesn't dare poking around, testing if she can make Azula's throat just a little less swollen. She has messed around with a small scar on her thigh, one she doesn't remember why she has, and it has made it hurt and look even worse. She doesn't want to risk what might happen to Azula if she does.

Once the water is back on its pouch, Azula gently touches her own neck. She looks at Katara with what seems like some sort of thank you, or at least as much as a thank you a look can be from a princess like her.

"Do you have any other old scars that still hurt you?" Her hand moves to her shoulder but then she places both, fists tight, on her lap and shakes her head. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't mind." She shakes her head again. "Can I check your wrists then?"

She frowns, but allows. The scars are almost worse than she expected, but they have been somewhat taken care of during the healing process, they're almost faded at this point, not as deep and unattended as the one in her throat. Katara's fingers flex, in her brain, somehow, she imagined the chains leaving imprints where she had wrapped her wrists and forearms.

"Your armor burned you," she whispers. She looks up, Azula looks at her like she's saying yes, obviously. She has seen the armor in a leap of deformed metal. "They didn't check your throat for injuries? If they treated everything else."

A person shouldn't look so... nonchalant about medical neglect.

(Azula looking somewhat surprised by Katara asking if she was in pain flashed in her mind.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared about her well-being?

No surprise you were acting like that.)

"I can do healing sessions a few times a day, keep most of the discomfort away," she hopes Azula hears the I know there's more things bothering you, and I'll make you tell me. "But I can't heal any of it, I'll make everything much worse for you."

She seems impressed enough by the offer of help for the pain, so it's not like she'll demand for healing. In position to demand or not, she looks like the kind that would be quite the inconvenience about it.

Katara eyes her shoulder, one of the burns from that Agni Kai? A training accident or a wound from the war? Or maybe a too-warm hand on her shoulder, paired with honey-leaking words from the forger of a weapon.

"I'll take my leave now," she's almost reluctant at letting go of her warm, soft hands. She does, after a moment. "Tomorrow we'll do it again. Have a good night, your highness."

[thecoolerliauditore]

There was like, a very brief period where there was a few 'jimmy cheated on scott' fics. I guess I know why now. Personally it makes me uncomfy for two mains reason: 1) Its a wholly made up scenario just to make Jimmy the toxic one. 2) I can really only personally see it as a Scott narrative. You know, That Type of Ex who says 'no' when someone says they want to break up. (And 3) they tend to tag the cheating ship as the ship and personally it's a bit upsetting to be looking up a ship and get a fic where they're cheaters and its all about this other character overcoming them, but that's a personal ick thing and they are using the tagging system correctly technically, its more a problem with there being no way to differentiate those types of ship tags from each other. It's just a bit personally upsetting to see a fic tagged with your ship and also 'happy ending' but the happy ending is them falling apart and unhappy which makes the cheated on party happy with no warning that's what it meant. Rambling, sorry...)

I think if you wanna interpret Jimmy as toxic y'ought to focus on the post-relationship period (honestly I feel this way about fh in general, nothing in their brief time together is nearly as interesting as their time after reacting to their ex to me) cause you could make a case for Jimmy being unnecessarily hostile and not wishing Scott well at all. (This I think works best if the relationship was toxic cause then you have a guy going to the opposite extreme in reply to a bad relationship, but works just as well Jimmy being That Ex that always says their ex was crazy that Scott also play in DL)

Personally I don't think there's a good faith way to dig into the thing Jimmy might have done wrong while ignoring the more obvious things Scott did wrong, but exploration is the point of fanfics and AUs. And I've read fics where people make Scott out to be Jimmy's only supporter in DL while everyone else bullied him and completely rewrote entire scenes to make Scott the hero, so you know, clearly a market for rewriting Scott's character specifically.

But my go to for toxic Jimmy in the context of fh is him being neglectful. Jimmy's always been half-hearted about the dynamic, including reframing it in his e1 pov, I think it isn't much of a stretch to elaborate that into full on getting into a relationship he wasn't enthusiastic about to begin with and the few things he does to contribute being token gestures. Maybe Jimmy tends to think the worst of the things Scott does and assume he's being condescended to (I think this works especially well if you want to make one or both autistic, cause it's very easy to read Scott's tone as such if you aren't on his wave length and Jimmy is very easily offended especially later on). I think maybe some wouldn't like that just because it requires having Jimmy not be enthusiastic about being with Scott, though.

If you interpret Scott as Aro and Jimmy as Ace, also, you can make an argument for them just doing all the wrong things and that building up resentment between them where neither want to do anything the other wants to do and that barrier of miscommunication only growing until it collapses in on them both.

But yeah, I personally have trouble not making both of them toxic if Jimmy is going to be toxic, but again most exploration fics focus in on one thing, so...

^^^for the other anon

I actually don't read much fic but yeah this makes sense to me. FYI i think the "cheating" read comes from people interpreting him and Scott as not fully broken up during the events of post-3L because there's never really a formal "we're not together anymore" announcement. But yeah looking for something for your ship and having it turn out to be a cheating fic is WILD LMAO

I don't vibe with a lot of this because I'm not fun BUT the aro scott/ace jimmy part is awesome I'm glad that seems to be catching on.

[imtrashraccoon]

I have a…. Request?

I dunno, what would your ideas be for a dragon nm, like he turns into a dragon and has horns and stuff.

(MAKE HIM PETTABLE PLEASE)

Wow, I guess some of you really like dragons? I don't blame you cause I like them too lol. I assume you were asking in general and not necessarily about the recent Dragon AU for The Dark Fortress?

Dragon Nightmare Headcanons

Every couple of centuries, Nightmare gets bored of doing dragon things like pillaging the countryside, napping on his horde, fending off foolish adventurers, etc. When this happens, he likes to disguise himself and walk among mortals as one of them. Sometimes he looks like a human and other times he chooses to appear as a monster or beast.

Usually, he prefers forms that are regarded as conventionally attractive and where he can look important, such as a wealthy traveller. Although, he has on occasion decided to take on the form of an outcast from society, such as a beggar. Because of these experiences, he is well aware of the stark differences in how appearance plays into how people perceive you. He despises those who take advantage of their positions of power to step on the less fortunate, but he isn't one to go out of his way to call them out.

Well, that's what he likes to think.

On occasion, he's met a few individuals that stood out from the rest of the mortals. Maybe they were so persistent to be friends that he couldn't say no or maybe he found it in his cold, dark soul to help them. He does have a lot of gold after all and if that won't work, he's a powerful ancient dragon for crying out loud! So what if a pesky politician goes missing? They didn't deserve to live if they were going to treat people like that.

One of the issues with essentially being immortal is that he'll outlive everyone else. He tries not to get attached for this reason but sometimes he can't help falling for someone. He treasures the memory of each individual and he has a space in his horde dedicated to personal items from them. Most of the relationships he's had with mortals were platonic, although romantic relationships are possible if the person is extraordinarily special as he doesn't like letting people see his deepest emotions or secrets.

If you've been seeing the same mysterious stranger around town for a while, maybe show him some hospitality? Kindness is the easiest way into his soul, with possessing unusual skills a close second. He'd be rather touched if you made something specifically for him, especially if it took a long time to make like baked goods, although he also enjoys meat dishes.

You could also impress him with knowledge or proficiency with a weapon. If you're also a fan of riddles or manage to trick him, he would pay more attention to you. There isn't much that he doesn't know considering how long he's been alive but not every mortal knows about the obscure parts of history or how old weapons are best wielded.

You probably won't see his true form for a very long time as he doesn't want to ruin your friendship by scaring you. It's possible that you could witness him in his dragon form and not recognize him as the mysterious stranger. If he realized that you saw him, well, I suppose he's not going to finish raiding this town since he doesn't want you to get hurt.

When he trusts that you won't hate him or be terrified of his dragon form, he'll willingly show you what he really is. It certainly explains how he was able to give you expensive gifts! It probably also explains some of his more concerning behaviours...

He tends to act...possessive of you. People you thought were your friends start avoiding you and if anyone starts to pay attention to you, he gets irritated. If they're lucky, he'll just convince them to never talk to you again, but if not, well, he is a dragon...

He's only looking out for his favourite mortal. He doesn't want to upset you of course, but those people don't have your best interests at heart and he just wants you to be happy. If you notice that he's doing this behind your back and alienating you from your friends and family, it would be best to call him out on it. The last thing he wants to do is make you upset with him, so nipping these behaviours in the bud before they become a problem is a must.

He isn't above taking you away from your troubles after all.

On the topic of his true form, if you somehow find him cute or even attractive, he'll think you're joking at first. Although, once he realizes that you're being completely genuine, he's rather flustered. He's an ancient dragon who's laid waste to countless civilizations and killed thousands! His appearance alone has struck fear in the hearts of kings and yet you find him cute?! No! You may not "pet" him! He is not a mangy mutt nor is he soft!

If you insist on petting his head or back, he'll eventually relent, if just to prove his point and get you to shut up. Just don't touch his wings or his tail...and be careful around his eyes...

...

He didn't tell you to stop... No, it's not because he likes being pet. Your fingers are just a lot more nimble and are good at getting in the grooves of his scales that he can't reach, that's all...

You will end up in a cuddle pile later now that the barrier of touch has been breached and don't expect to be allowed to leave any time soon, especially because dragons are known to take long naps...

[leth-writes]

yandere Steve Rogers x reader (part 3)

A/N: I already posted this on my AO3 a while ago, but I thought I'd post it on tumblr as well.

Summary: A world where yanderes, known as 'protectors', are in charge, and as a result, are able to basically kidnap whoever they want. Steve and Bucky are your best friends, and you assumed they'd offer you some sort of protection from being kidnapped; you were wrong.

Your time with Steve, moving between camps as he went on his propaganda tour, was both better and worse than you thought it would be. You were still stuck in the fuzzy numbness wrapping you up and preventing you from having to really understand the situation, walking through the camp you were currently staying in, somewhere near the Austrian front line, like a ghost. The others were largely quite kind to you, almost treating you like a traumatized child, refusing to so much as swear let alone discuss the realities of their situation anywhere near you.

The only person who you were able to hold any sort of substantial conversation with was Steve. He had finally let you leave the tent for more than meal and bathroom breaks only a month ago, after three whole months of training and slowly breaking you down, and he wasn’t keen on letting you wander off. You only really had time to explore when he was doing his stupid fucking song and dance performance, standing on stage and trying to bolster the audience. You got the feeling the soldiers didn’t quite like him, despite the respect they tended to show you. You guessed that general, paternalized, respect was quite common toward darlings, as they were viewed as incapable of surviving on their own. Never mind you had managed practically your entire adult life up until that point. You could tell the others were jealous of Steve, practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of having a darling when they got home; privately, you thought regaling them with tales of darlings waiting at home, desperate and lonely, would be enough to motivate them, no need for Steve’s little show. You wouldn’t tell them; like hell were you making the lifes of the people who betrayed you even an ounce easier.

You had nothing to do, most days. The lack of distractions was steadily driving you insane, forcing you to spend all of your time trying to avoid thinking about your current situation while it was shoved into your face constantly. It was like you were trying to avoid some slow-moving demon, steadily creeping toward you; no matter how fare you ran, it would always be right behind you, ready to overtake you and bury you in emotions you weren’t currently equipped to handle.

One day, while you were aimlessly wandering, a soldier pulled you aside. He was shorter than Steve, standing at around 5’9”, with sandy blond hair and deep brown doe eyes, a soft frown marring his otherwise angelic visage. The uniform practically hung off of him, swallowing his lean body in fabric and causing him to have to roll up the sleeves twice just to expose his hands. It was one of the field medics, you recalled.

“Hey,” He began, looked slightly nervous to be talking to you. He’d always been shy.

“Steve’d never tell you this, he’s too focused on protecting you, but James is missing. His entire unit is just… gone, like they’ve been wiped off the face of the earth. We think they were captured by HYDRA, and Steve’s the only one who can do anything about it. He’s the strongest soldier we have, and I know if you asked he’d be willing to at least try!” he whispered, voice tinged with desperation. His hand was gripping yours tightly, fingers digging into the flesh of the back of your palm as they shook ever so slightly. You could feel the anxiety practically radiating off of him.

Shit, Bucky was gone? Even if he’d betrayed you by helping Steve, you couldn’t handle the thought of him hurt, potentially gravely so, all alone behind enemy lines, dying without anyone there to help him… But what could you do? There was no way Steve would let you help!

Then, an idea hit you; if Steve went off to find Bucky, maybe you could escape! You’d be alone, without him, and he’d be completely focused on the mission; by the time he got back, most likely injured, he’d be so distracted by saving Bucky that he wouldn’t notice you were gone until it was too late! And, bonus, Bucky would be safe as well! All you had to do was convince him…

You thanked the medic, scrambling toward the large tent that Steve and you were staying in. You bound in, a rare smile lighting up your face, and settled in to wait for Steve to arrive.

You weren’t waiting too long. The sounds of the show stopped, and soon after, in came Steve, smiling wanly and glancing around for you. The afternoon gloom washed his face in pale greys and blues, bringing out the slight eyebags and the sharp cheekbones now just barely hidden by the new contours of his face, his deep blue eyes flashing at the sight of you. He was clad in his usual t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots combo, the one he usually wore after shows, and he was just barely out of breath, the hint of sweat only starting to appear on his forehead.

“Hey, doll!” he chimed, before coming to a stop at the sharp grin resting on your face. Shit, you were being too obvious. You tried to stamp down on that swelling exhileration forcing your grin to stretch, bringing your face into a more neutral expression. You could only hope he wasn’t suspicious. Looking up at him as he resumed his stride, you could see the lovestruck gleam in his eyes and the soft smile gracing his chiseled features, hair just slightly mussed from the helmet despite his attempts to comb it. He didn’t suspect a thing; he probably thought you were starting to look forward to your time together, that you were finally combing around to your relationship. All the better for your purposes, you supposed.

“Steve, do you know where Bucky is? I want to send a letter to him, finally reach out, you know?” He’d been begging you to do so for the last few months, saddened by the breakdown in communication between the two most important people in his life. His face fell at your words, looking crestfallen. “They think he… he’s dead. He got captured by HYDRA…” And now came your moment to shine, you thought; you needed to really nail the performance, walking that thin line between sadness and desperation.

You screwed your face up, like you hadn’t known he’d been gone, trying your best to look devestated. Tears welled up as you pinched and twisted your arm behind your back, and Steve looked even more upset.

“Oh, sweetheart, no! I’m sure Bucky’ll be fine, he’s the strongest man I know! He’d never let you go without saying goodbye…” He said, sitting down next to you, pullling you into him. Your head rested against his chest as you leant on him, tears staining the brown t-shirt that was stretched over his chest. He rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down your back, though all you could think about was how close you were to putting your plan in motion.

You looked up at him, tears shining in your eyes and lips wobbling ever so slightly. “Steve… I don’t think I can handle losing him! Please, someone has to do something!” You cried, sobbing and burying your face back into his warm chest. He pulled you fully into him, bracketing your trembling body with his arms and gathering you up on his lap.

He clucked his tongue, putting his chin on the top of your head, humming quietly. “I wish I could, but I’ve got orders to stay put,” He said, and you could hear the anger barely concealed in his words.

“Since when have you ever listened to the government, Stevie?” Hook, line, and sinker. He pulled away, shock in his eyes at hearing his old nickname, before determination flitted across his face. The greys and blues of the hazy sky lit up his expression, painting him in their soft hues; he looked like an angered God like this, you couldn’t help but think, eyes stormy and mouth set in a determined line.

He thanked you for your input and excused himself, and then he was off.

[my-castles-crumbling]

I have a question cas. 

trans women say they’re women because they are a women, they’re body just doesn’t reflect that… I guess? 

but terfs say that a women isn’t a women unless the body shows that- eg, uterus. 

so either terfs are trying to tell trans women that what they finally know about themselves, that they’re a women, is just not true because they say so? or that a women is only defined by her uterus.

cause that doesn’t feel very feminist. 

i’m not thinking of becoming a terf or anything, trans women are women- i’m not fucking rishi sunak or jkr, but like, what is their argument? I know it’s wrong but what ACTUALLY is it? Cause you’d think, given most of them are so proud to be terfs, they’d have a definition?

so what is it? i’m confused. I know there’s no need to make sense of these people but why?  

Hi! I'm gonna address this point-by-point. Also, TW: discussion of transphobia, genitalia, etc.

I have a question cas. 

trans women say they’re women because they are a women, they’re body just doesn’t reflect that… I guess? 

Yeah, to put it simply. Trans women are (usually) assigned male at birth and sometimes start out with male genitals. There are exceptions to this (intersex people). And some trans people, of course, choose to get surgery.

but terfs say that a women isn’t a women unless the body shows that- eg, uterus. 

Yeah, that tends to be the usual argument. There's more to it, but yeah.

so either terfs are trying to tell trans women that what they finally know about themselves, that they’re a women, is just not true because they say so? or that a women is only defined by her uterus.

Both. They insist that trans women are mentally ill or perverted, and that a woman is defined by her uterus and genitalia. Which is so wrong, because not all people with XX chromosomes or assigned female at birth even have those things.

cause that doesn’t feel very feminist. 

HALLELUJAH! SAY IT FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!

i’m not thinking of becoming a terf or anything, trans women are women- i’m not fucking rishi sunak or jkr, but like, what is their argument? I know it’s wrong but what ACTUALLY is it? Cause you’d think, given most of them are so proud to be terfs, they’d have a definition?

so what is it? i’m confused. I know there’s no need to make sense of these people but why?  

Basically, from my limited knowledge on the subject, terfs argue that to be a woman, you have to have XX chromosomes, have a uterus, a vag*na, etc. You have to have been raised as a woman and experienced womanhood (whatever the fuck that means).

It's a lot of bullshit. I think it's based on a few things:

Fear. A lot of terfs are very uneducated and assume trans people are actually cis men trying to assault cis women or take away from cis women in some way.. Which is obviously so wrong. trans women are just women who want to live their lives.

Ignorance. Again, terfs are uneducated and don't understand what it means to be trans. They also don't understand their own arguments and the fallacies in them: not all people with XX chromosomes, for example, have uteruses.

Transphobia. A lot of people see being trans as very taboo, and don't want to be associated with it or accept it. So of course, they don't want trans women as a part of the feminist movement.

This is a stretch, but I also think it has to do with sexism. Stay with me here, but terfs see trans women as men, right? (They're not, but just stay with me). And when men do feminine things, it's always SO deeply frowned upon. Because how DARE someone AMAB act feminine. It's seen as disgusting. Men need to be men- protectors, not emotional, not weak (yes, I know being fem isn't weak, but from their POV...). SO I think it's actually deeply-ingrained sexism as well, if that makes sense.

I hope that helps a bit! It's a horrible, horrible mindset, and the fact that JKR promotes it is so upsetting, tbh.

[imsocialshit]

Jojolands Ch 20

uhhh spoilers I just read it today

It's good. End of analysis /joking.

I loved Glory Days and Agent Bobby Jean. He's such a simple character and I have a soft spot for stands that are just straight up A Gun. I was not at all ready for Bobby Jean to die so soon, I was really hoping to learn more about his whole deal. In hindsight, we got his whole deal.

I will say my first instinct about his death is that it was a bit of a cop out. Even though we're still establishing everything Jodio and November Rain are capable of, the splash back feels a bit anticlimactic. That isn't to say that I fully dislike it though, to me it reads as Jodio just trying to play defense and accidentally getting in a kill. It is interesting that November Rains... rain maintains it's properties even after it hits the ground. I'd assumed that once it hit the ground it was Done. The ground becoming the target and usually being too hard for NR to affect.

It's obviously not a very dependable attack though, when water splashes it goes in every direction so it can't be aimed. I am still super interested in seeing how November Rain is used in future fights.

I really enjoyed Jodio this chapter, him just hiding and panicking in the bathroom does a decent job of showing that he's literally just a highschooler. I like to think he was legitimately scared/worried for a good chunk of the fight. I guess that's why I can't be Too upset about Bobby Jeans death being anticlimactic, it feels thematically fitting that it was just luck that let's Jodio survive. Because to me it's less "Jodio Won" and more "The Enemies just Stopped."

Lulu is a star and has been a star from the start, I'm really glad that she's going to be sticking around for a while. Even though it's via Jodio and gang kidnapping her. Mostly Jodio. I appreciate Jodio getting to be a bit more overtly Cruel. Yes Lulu was trying to kill them, but she's also a little girl crying over a fresh corpse. Very excited to see how she interacts with the others.

It's also interesting how Serious Jodio is, he's just instantly ready to take down an entire bank. There's also a hint of black and white thinking thrown in, "Howler are Bad Guys, so anyone who helps them must be too." It's so early in the part, and he's already getting a little crazy with power, which is interesting considering Paco and Dragona seem to be in charge when Meryl Mei isn't there. I appreciate that they take him and his ideas seriously, but I think him trying to present them to Meryl will probably cause some kind of friction.

A final sillier note: I love Usagi. The way this fight's been structured almost feels like an "A-plot/B-plot" style tv show. While yes the two plots are happening at the same time and are clearly connected, Jodio and Paco have a kinda separate thing from Usagi and the others. The B-plot is just so much sillier, even though it hinges on trying to make sure Usagi doesn't Die. Him waking up and immediately going "Oh I'm in a bed with Pink-Chan" is so stupid. It's such a strong contrast after Bobby Jean, I love it.

Overall great chapter. I tend to use stand references as a soundtrack for fights, so having November rain playing for most of it may have added a layer. It automatically makes any fighting Jodio does somewhat melancholy.

Very excited for Meryl Mei's reactions to everything. Especially the double kidnapping.

[dingodad]

trolls sleep in sopor slime to help with nightmares, but the text is not really explicit about the meaning or origin of these nightmares so i guess it makes sense that there is some confusion about their nature. but the way i see it there are two main ways of looking at it.

a) the "terrible visions of blood and carnage that plague the dark subconscious of [trolls]" do not occur through some supernatural means. they are just the natural result of trolls being forced to take part in a baby arena as soon as they are born and then being subjected to unrelenting retraumatisation throughout their whole lives. this has always been the answer i have found the most compelling, and though i think it is perhaps the answer that is the least beholden to homestuck's themes, i don't necessarily think it is mutually exclusive with any of the other answers, particularly on a symbolic level.

b) the "terrible visions of blood and carnage" are "because of" something. generally this answer is related to the idea that was popular some years ago (but whose origin i do not really understand) that "trolls being violent is a myth" or "doc scratch (supernaturally) made the trolls violent", and itself has two main arguments.

first and by far the most popular is the horrorterror explanation. this has some merit as a widely held belief because it is fundamentally based on stuff that is in the text. we know - or can at the very least surmise - that horrorterrors are the source of nightmares, and that although they are not strictly malevolent their messages tend to be frightening thanks to their 1) forms which are hard for a mortal mind to comprehend (i would not strictly call this a 'vision of blood and carnage') and 2) ongoing slaughter at the hands of lord english (which i would consider to be such). we also know doc scratch provided alternia with its own personal emissary to the horrorterrors as part of his own design, and gl'bgolyb was known to provide feferi with cautions about trollkind's oncoming extinction, in a way which would seem to mirror the noble circle's own warnings. gl'bgolyb needs to fed to keep her voice at a whisper, because anything louder than a whisper results in widespread psychic death; it makes sense, to an extent, that a much more subdued version of this glub might result in horrifying nightmares.

but i am not convinced this is the main reason trolls suffer nightmares in their sleep, for two key reasons. first is karkat's reaction to the nightmares he experiences after his dream self dies, causing him to bump up against the horrorterrors for the first time:

KARKAT: THE BOTTOM LINE IS, EVERYONE HERE IS FORBIDDEN FROM GOING TO SLEEP. [...] KARKAT: YES, AS YOUR LEADER, I AM ORDERING ALL PROSPIT DREAMERS TO STAY AWAKE, NO MATTER HOW TIRED YOU GET.

what is markedly lacking, here, is any sense of recognition or callback from karkat. though there is a logic to assuming this new onset of nightmares is related to the nightmares experienced by trolls back on their home planet, karkat never draws the connection, instead speaking as if these nightmares are actually news to the trolls and not something they are already familiar with. and there is a key reason for this: at least half of the trolls, including karkat, have some kind of natural buffer between themselves and the horrorterrors, that being that they dream on prospit, with proximity to skaia, rather than derse in proximity to the void. and feferi's negotiation of more stable dream bubbles becomes yet another buffer between dreamers and nightmares, even for the dead; so having nightmares caused by the horrorterrors is something that happens under very particular circumstances, and these circumstances do not seem widespread enough to justify a whole race sleeping in slime to stem them.

the second reason i veer away from the horrorterror explanation is related to the second supernatural source these dark visions may stem from, which is the one hussie himself seems to endorse thanks to its appearance in the text:

For the subjugglators in their small numbers to keep such a large population under their control, it would be very useful to have the ability to psychically amplify fears through dreams. They may have directed their chucklevoodoos on every susceptible mind in the population. Each lowblood may have a little highblood voodoo doll lurking in their subconscious, making them too terrified to organize any sort of rebellion.

this commentary is from 2011, so it's close enough to the time the text was written that I can be pretty confident it was authorial intent; and it's also something we know for sure can cause nightmares even among prospit's dreamers. a fear of jesters psychically debilitated john for years, even where he was safe from the horrorterrors. it makes perfect sense that a bath of soothing slime might assuage the urge to crawl out of bed and deface your room with the visage of your deepest fears.

but i think this option does raise a really interesting question that perhaps opens up a third way of looking at why the recuperacoon exists... presumably it's the same alternian authority that both forces trolls to sleep with clown-related nightmares, and then makes them sleep in the same drugged cocoons that dim these nightmares. the alternian machine is seemingly both causing and solving its own problem to net zero effect. why?

we need to dispense, for a second, with the idea that trolls sleep in cocoons because slime helps them with their nightmares, and look at the more obvious justification. trolls sleep in cocoons because a cocoon is the troll version of a bed. beds are where humans go to sleep/die (in the case of a Quest Bed - but in homestuck, dying and going to sleep are symbolically the same act), receive spiritual knowledge in the realm of sleep/death, and then wake up enlightened. and for an insect, the cocoon performs the exact same function of death and rebirth.

so my theory is that the slime's purpose isn't really to help trolls feel better about their nightmares at all. i think its very purpose is to cut off the connection between the sleeping troll and the dreaming world entirely, suppressing their spiritual enlightenment. it's a buffer between trolls and the horrorterrors just like prospit is - not because the horrorterrors are somehow psychically detrimental, but precisely because they are the enemies of lord english. in the same way a lick of the trickster lollipop obscures the meat of reality with a veneer of reality, the soporific - i.e. drugged - slime obscures the frightening truth which horrorterrors represent. no doubt the chucklevoodoo puppets in every trolls' dreams are real, but they're just pretense; scare trolls away from their own dreams enough to make them reliant on the slime that will ensure they never dream any deeper.

this relates to the "computer beds" idea i reference regularly on my theory blog, but without going into too much detail: i think recuperacoons have slime in them because they're supposed to visually evoke the computers trolls use, which are also cocoon-like and filled with slime; which, in turn, is supposed to evoke jade harley's computer bed, which created a buffer between her waking self and her dreaming self in the form of the dreambot.

[fivedayslater]

Part 19: By the Fireplace

Dinner and a Murder: A Mr. Prince Mystery Masterpost

Sanji checks by the fireplace.

Near the hearth, balancing precariously between the stone and the carpet, is a shiny golden bracelet. 

Sanji picks it up carefully and turns it over in his hand. It’s large enough to slip over his own wrist, but would be a tight fit for someone like Zoro. He holds it up to his eye to better guess the size, and guesses that it would best fit Nami.

“That’s Nami’s,” Zoro confirms for him when he turns around, “Her sister gave it to her a while ago, and she rarely takes it off.”

Sanji hums as he tries to remember if Nami was wearing it earlier. She definitely was when he met her in the lounge before dinner, but he’s pretty sure her wrists were bare when he saw her after the blackout.

He glances down at the burning embers of the fire, “Did Nami tend the fire at all?”

“No,” Zoro shakes his head as he turns back to digging through the trash can, “Bon-Chan had the fire set up before we got here, and I threw some logs on it before dinner.”

“So how did it get over by the fireplace?” He wonders aloud.

Zoro is silent, his attention on something he pulled out of the trash, so Sanji pockets the bracelet for now and heads on over to him.

“What did you find?” He asks, resting a hand on his shoulder as he looks over it.

“Oh, uh,” Zoro clears his throat as he offers the paper to Sanji, “I’m not sure if it means anything, but I thought it was weird.”

Sanji takes the crumpled piece of paper from him and looks it over. It’s a prescription paper, most of the lines are scribbled over, however perfectly legible at the top, just like the one Luffy showed him earlier, is the name Dr. Law D. W. Trafalgar, M.D.

Sanji frowns as he looks it over. What was Law doing in the lounge?

“Law wasn’t in here before – at least not when I was,” Zoro continues, answering Sanji’s question before he can even ask it, “So I don’t know when he’d have been able to throw it out here.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Maybe he did it earlier. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

“It could be something,” Sanji says as he puts the paper in his pocket, “If Ace really was murdered here, then whoever came in this room is important, and this tells us that Law was at some point.”

Zoro’s lip twitches, that proud smile of his spreading across his face, making Sanji’s heart do somersaults in his chest at the sight, “Okay then. Glad I could help.”

Sanji nods, hoping he doesn’t look too besotted as he turns his attention back to the rest of the room. 

“What we need is definitive proof Ace was murdered here,” he explains as his eyes dart around, “The similar smell is a good start, but it’s not conclusive, not like…”

He trails off as he spots a splotch of dark red coming out from under the table.

He drops to his hands and knees to get a closer look, the metallic scent coming from it confirming it’s blood.

From this angle, Sanji can see that the armchair is askew, some impact having knocked it off its normal location. There are also circular indents in the carpet where the table, indicating it had also been moved.

Sanji sits back on his haunches, and is surprised to see Zoro squatting down next to him. He has that soft look on his face as he asks, “Did you find something?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he gestures to the table, “Can you move that for me?”

Zoro nods, and stands up to do as he asked, putting the table back to his original location. 

With it out of the way, Sanji can see how large the bloodstain is. Whatever caused it was no mere accident, and was almost certainly fatal.

“Wow,” Zoro whistles low under his breath, “You think that’s…?”

“Ace’s? Yes, probably,” he frowns as he pulls out a cigarette, “It’s impossible to say for sure without a blood test, but considering Nami’s blood is all over the kitchen, there’s no blood trail between the lounge and the kitchen, and we still haven’t found where Ace was killed, we can assume this is his.”

“There must have been a fight,” he continues, gesturing at the chair, “at the very least, someone was pushed hard enough into the chair to push it.” He waves his hand over the bloodstain, “And eventually Ace was stabbed here. Whoever did it didn’t have time to clean it up, but they did move the table to cover up the stain.”

Zoro turns back to him, that soft look on him once more, “You really are something.”

Sanji blushes as he turns away, but is sure he can’t hide the smile on his face from him.

“So,” Zoro asks as he nods towards the door, “What’s next?”

[dapperbasil]

Feels like I gotta ask for my girl Tammy: 16, 21, 35, 41, 48, and special question: Does she have an idea for a dream wedding? And if so, how does it look

Swamp you know exactly what you're doing. And I thank you for this. I will say these answers will go between current in-chronicle and future modern nights but I'll specify. This... ended up being a lot. Sorry in advance, but you did kinda ask for it!

16. How good are they at acting “alive”?

Due to the nature of her work as a writer and soon to be as a club owner, Tammy is very familiar with acting as if she were still alive. She wasn’t embraced too long ago, and the kine tend to not ask too many questions when you have even a small modicum of fame. That’s why in modern nights it was easy enough to remove herself from the public eye, for reasons of focusing on her health given the public nature of what the kine think happened to cause her scar.

21. What is their predator type?

So we play v20, so we don’t have predator types. That being said, Tammy has a few ways she goes about hunting that have changed over the years. Due to being a Ventrue, she has a particular kind of blood she needs, so her targets end up usually being well-to-do people down on their luck needing a helping hand or a thoughtful ear. Manipulative? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

35. How old is your OC up until their death?

“Heather” was born in 1970, and died in 1992, making Tammy 22 years old at the time of her embrace. She had just finished her 3rd year of college and had one more left to achieve her degree… but Zacharias couldn’t wait another year to start her training. 

41. Would your OC switch their clan if given the chance? Why or why not?

Okay. So. It's very clear to everyone, Tammy included, that she’s not a great fit for clan Ventrue. She doesn’t fit many of the stereotypes, and had to work harder than most to really get down what she was expected to know and do. There’s been comments made by many others that she’d fit other clans better. A few have remarked on how she’d fit a Gangrel with her passion for wildlife and the environment. Some have said she would make a fitting Toreador. And while she agrees that maybe she would fit those clans, Tammy doesn’t think she’d have gotten this far if she wasn’t a Ventrue. She hates how much pressure is put on her, and it does end up part of why she starts to lean Anarch, but she does admit that all this hard work and expectation from her clan took her from pretty much nothing to where she is now. 

48. Detail things about your OC you spent a lot of time on!

Tammy really didn’t have much development at first. I knew the type of character I wanted to play, and her clan. I’ll admit she really came to life during our first few sessions, but it took a long time to really nail down some of her personality quirks. Her intense loyalty to her friends, her stubborn independence despite her sire’s insistence for her to begin relying on others, hell even her dynamic with Zacharias took a long time to hammer down with how they started off pretty bad with things improving slowly over time. Her sire started off as just the mysterious professor that embraced a photography major for reasons she doesn’t even understand, and he developed so much that well… you know where it goes from here.

50. Wild Card! Does she have an idea for a dream wedding? And if so, how does it look?

HOO BOY. This question absolutely took me out reading it. I guess this kinda spoils the modern nights timeline a little bit, assuming everything goes to plan for the final acts of our campaign. But put on your seatbelt, you asked for it.

So before she was embraced, she was definitely the kind of girl that was obnoxious about the perfect wedding. Small outside wedding, reciting of vows right at sunset, that sort of thing. Well, due partially in part to her debilitating newly formed allergy to sunlight that dream was abandoned a long time ago. Even as her relationship with Zacharias furthered, she didn’t give it much of a thought since she had long since become content with whatever “us” was (however secretive and confusing it was). However once the people around her started getting married, she began to feel that pang of jealousy. Trevor and Sarah were her trusted ghouls, she was more than happy for them and cried watching Zacharias walk Sarah down the aisle like a father. Reid and Mariette’s wedding as well as Reid and Milly’s were beautiful, but left Tammy ever so slightly bitter. At Mariette and Milly’s wedding she ended up with the bouquet in her lap, though she wasn’t trying to catch it. She played it off with a laugh, handing it off to someone else instead, because in her mind she didn’t have any expectation of marriage anywhere in her future.

So of course when Zacharias set up a hopelessly convoluted plan to make his proposal to her perfect, she was thrilled. I’m actually working on a multi-chapter fic for this, so I can’t spoil too much, but I can say she is much more content letting Zacharias lead the planning. (Stay tuned for that fic at a later point, if you want more)

(VtM OC ask game)

[a-lonely-dunedain]

if you want an additional Situation, id be curious about ethedis with #2 :D

ok well. idk why my brain decided these go together but it turned out Very Mean oops. sorry it took so long my brain just, was Not letting me write descriptions. or dialogue. also idk why this is in 2nd person but that's just what it started as and I guess we're committed now *shrug*

#2: time loop (creative liberties taken) #6: reverse amnesia (no one can remember the character)

“Sorry, Corunir, was it? I think I’m a little lost-” Ethedis sets down her cup on the coffee table between the two of you, looking at you intently. There is the sound of rain pattering outside. You search her eyes for the faintest hint of recognition -futile, you know- but still she looks at you like a total stranger. Courteous, curious, but distant. “Can you explain it one more time?” You know it won’t do any good, but you start anyway.

“I’m afflicted by a curse. You’re not going to remember this conversation, you will not remember my face, my voice, or anything I’ve ever done. Sometime between now and dawn, you and everyone else I’ve met today will forget. And the same thing will happen tomorrow.” You managed to keep your voice level explaining it this time. You’ve had practice now. 

“I was a part of Golodir's Company, then the Grey Company, and then the Conquest of Gorgoroth. I became like this after retrieving some kind of cursed artifact from Mordor. I did not realize how dangerous it was at the time. Evidently the curse had a delayed reaction, as it only took effect after I had turned it over to the Houses of Lore for study and safekeeping.”

“I see…” You remain silent and let her process your admittedly hard to believe story. She always takes it better than most you encounter, no accusations of madness or ill intent at least. 

When your brothers see someone they don’t recognize wearing one of their stars, they tend to assume the worst, that it was stolen by an imposter trying to infiltrate their ranks or something of that nature. You of course don’t blame them for it, it’s an understandable reaction. There are so few of you left now, of course a stranger in one of their uniforms would be cause for alarm, but you cannot deny how much it hurts.

So you keep your star hidden when you speak to those of them still in the city. Sometimes you still try to explain your plight, sometimes they actually believe you, but always they forget by the next dawn. 

You find it hurts less to keep your distance from them. The mistrustful look in their eyes typically reserved for strangers is almost too much to bear. 

But Ethedis has always been a little more trusting. Ok a lot more trusting, to an almost worrying degree, but at least it means you have someone to talk to. Coming here to see her has probably been the only thing keeping you sane these last few weeks, she’s one of the few people you find easy to talk to in your current predicament.

The second time you came to her, you just broke. Realizing she truly remembered nothing about you, and the hopelessness of your situation truly starting to set in, is a pain you almost wished you could forget. 

But instead of doing the reasonable thing and demanding that the sobbing madman leave her room at once, she actually attempted to comfort you. A little clumsily perhaps, but the fact that she tried at all was enough to hold you together.

Maybe some part of her could see you were telling the truth, despite how strange it was. Some elves have the power to see into people’s hearts, and though Ethedis never believed she possessed such an ability, you have your own suspicions. She’s always finding new ways to surprise you.

She rummages around her belongings for a sheet of paper and something to write with. You don’t bother telling her it’s pointless. Come morning those papers she’s hastily scribbling down your story on will be blank once again, but you don’t stop her, there’s no reason to keep her from trying.

“So, this relic then,” she says without looking up from the paper “I assume you’ve already tried simply breaking it, and that clearly didn’t work.”

“Yes, the enchantment upon it protected it from any harm I was capable of.”

“I wonder if there’s something I could do to it… maybe tomorrow, after I’ve read over these notes, I could try-”

“I do not mean to sound rude in saying this, but I know that will not work.” You say gently, “You have tried that before, and many other things.” 

She’s attempted to unravel the enchantment a few times now, but truthfully you don’t want her anywhere near it. Not until you’ve exhausted all other options. The risk of her becoming cursed herself may be small, but it is far too great for you to bear. 

You think it might have been your proximity to the relic over such a long period of time that caused you to become like this, as it was on your person all the way from Mordor to Minas Tirith. But you still think it’s too risky for anyone to get near it, even for a short amount of time. Especially Ethedis. You cannot let her fall to this fate. You cannot let her be forgotten.

The scholars in the Houses of Lore at least seem to understand that whatever enchantment is on the relic is dangerous, so it is locked away far from anyone. Ethedis had to pull a great many strings for you to be allowed near it, until you learned who you needed to talk to and exactly what to say to be let in by yourself. 

“And, besides that, I guess I should tell you those notes will not be there for you to read tomorrow.”

“Ah.” her pencil stops “I take it the words will vanish as well as my memories?” 

you nod solemnly. “Anything written by or about me, I’m afraid. Truthfully, I did not come here to try to work out a solution. Not tonight.”

“Don’t tell me you're giving up, are you?” She asks sharply. Ah, there’s that stubborn hope you remember.

“No, not yet.” you sigh “But I am tired. Tired of all the dead ends. Right now, I just wanted to talk to you, hear your voice.”

“I suppose it would get rather lonely.”

You nod sadly. ‘Lonely’ seems a bit of a tame way to describe what you became after losing all your friends overnight, but it gets the point across.

“So, how did I know you?”

“In Angmar. You were there at my lowest point, when my spirit was broken by the Watchers, you gave me hope and light I thought were long beyond my reach. I have tried to be the same for you, in our battles with the Iron Crown, through the journey south, but… it seems I have once again fallen into my original role.”

She gives a thoughtful hum and glances out the window, between the storm and the darkness of night it is pitch black out there, but Ethedis still seems to be looking at something. “...Now that you mention it, it seems a bit unbelievable that I could have done all those things alone. I had not thought much about it, but it makes much more sense if I had a strong Ranger like you there with me.”

Your face gets a little flush “I think you give me a little too much credit, it was still mostly you-”

“Nonsense! I mean, Barad Gularan? Bogbereth? All those fights with Mordirith? They hardly seem like tasks for a lone elf, I must have had someone with me, and that must have been you.”

She looks back to you, her bright demeanor dimmed ever so slightly “I wish I remembered… You and I must have been close.”

“We were. Something other than friends, we loved each other, but we were not lovers, at least, not in the traditional sense. We didn’t really care what we called it, we were just… very important to each other.” It doesn’t feel right to refer to your relationship in the past-tense, you don’t want to think of it as being ‘over’, you still love her. But, you are a stranger to her now, present-tense would be inappropriate.

She looks at you piercingly, her bright green eyes seeming to search for something in you. Then her expression softens, something like pity almost.

“...do you need a hug?” 

You’re a little taken aback, she hasn’t asked that before. “I… wasn’t going to ask… I am a stranger to you after all, but if you’re offering-” you try to swallow a lump in your throat, and you cannot look her in the eyes “Yes. I need one.”

She walks over and sits next to you, then pulls you close. Tighter than you had expected, not how you think she would embrace a total stranger such as yourself.

You hadn’t noticed how cold you were until you felt the warmth of her arms. Ice has seeped into your very bones, and you do not want to let her go. It feels like it’s been years since you felt her embrace. The loneliness and the fear and the hopelessness all claw their way to the surface of your heart, desperate to be laid bare before her. You fight with everything you have not to sob into her shoulder.

You don’t want to let go, but you know you must. Your time here runs short.

As you pull away you hastily wipe away some stray tears that had fallen unbidden from your eyes.

“You will find some way to break this curse.” she states, her eyes not filled with hope, but with certainly. 

“If anyone else had said that I would think they were lying to be kind. Not you, though. I believe you.” She always has plenty of certainty to spare when you find yourself without any. There was a time when you might have thought it was mere naivety, but you know better now.

But you’ve been here too long now. It’s late, she might forget about you at any moment.

“I should be going now.” you say reluctantly “The curse will take effect soon I think, and I doubt you will be happy to find me in your room when that happens.”

As you walk through the door, a chill suddenly runs all the way through you, your blood turns to ice and your breath freezes in your lungs, now a puff of visible vapor before you. 

It’s happening again. You mistimed this visit, you had hoped to leave before this. You don’t want to turn around, you hate watching people forget, but you turn anyway.

Ethedis sits with the blank papers in front of her, seeming a little confused. She shakes her head as if to dispel some fog in her mind.

“...What on earth was I-” She looks up at you, the stranger in her doorway, and jumps to her feet in alarm.

“Um, hello? What are- what you are doing here?”

“Oh, sorry to disturb you, I just got a little lost.” You can’t hide the sadness in your gaze, and that probably only confuses her more.

“Wait, you…” she looks you up and down, then tilts her head “You look like a Ranger, but I have not seen you before… Who are you?”

You shrug “I should be going now.” and quickly make your exit.

She probably thinks she’s seen a ghost. You guess that isn’t too far off from the truth.

—

Eventually morning comes again. You walk through the streets of the lower circles, blending into the crowds like a ghost. 

You’re not really sure what you’re doing down here, but you find it’s easier to think when you’re walking, so here you are. 

You’ve been going around in circles in your head, no closer to any possible solution. Gandalf might have the power to undo this curse, but he is far away aiding the Conquest. You doubt he would be able to fix this without the relic on hand, and removing it from the Houses of Lore only risks exposing more people to the curse, so you wouldn’t dare try stealing it unless you had no other choice. If only you could send a message to him, but nothing you try to write ever leaves a trace. You could get Ethedis to write something to him again, but you’re starting to think anything written in your presence is doomed to vanish, as the last letter she wrote mentioned nothing about you or the curse, but it was still blank the next day. 

But something more alarming has come to your attention, too. It’s hard to gauge, but you think people are starting to forget about you faster than before. You feel chilled at odd hours of the day, and sometimes people cannot seem to look directly at you or hear your voice, almost as if you aren’t wholly there to them. You might not have time to wait for Gandalf. Could this curse even have the power to fully erase someone? You hope not, you hope you’re just imagining it, and you pray you never have to find out.

You wish you had never retrieved the damn thing. You don’t know what could have possibly possessed you to go to Mordor alone, not while Ethedis had not fully recovered from her injuries. You would have hated to leave her like that. You recall it made perfect sense at the time, it seemed important.

Another new worry has been clawing in the back of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t go to Mordor alone, and perhaps you were not the only one forgotten. Your actions do not make much sense otherwise-

In your distraction, you plowed headfirst into someone on the street. A young man with a distinctive red scarf and fiery hair to match. You do not know him. 

He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. You try to ask if he’s alright, but before you can say anything he quickly mutters an apology and slips out of sight into a nearby alleyway.

You think you should ignore him and focus on the task at hand, but, there was something else… 

When you touched him, you felt that same chill as before, when the curse takes effect every night. Smaller perhaps, but unmistakable. You still feel cold, you can see your breath.

The man with the scarf has some connection to it, and you need to get to the bottom of it.

—

(surprise! I found a way to be mean to Tossdir in this too! I am only a little sorry >:) you thought I just forgot to mention him earlier? nooo, but everyone else did! I have some vague ideas for where to go with this one actually. maybe I'll do a continuation if people are interested idk. this doesn't feel like my finest work but hey practice is practice and I think the concept is neat)

[system-of-a-feather]

Man, I will say it's honestly very meaningful for someone who I deeply respect that I know shares a similar life view and life experiences and has been a part of my life for over half of it go ".... how the hell do you work so hard"

Like I've heard that a lot, both in terms of concern, awe, and genuinely seeking advice, and most of the time it's usually a bit uncomfortable cause the genuine answer is A Lot of Trauma and a Lot of Fucked Up Shit that makes me like this. It's largely not a choice I had and now that we've done a lot of healing, what we are currently doing is the least we've ever done; and yes, as a 23 year old bread winner full time working multiply disordered / disabled + passion project working + a lot of other shit adult supporting a struggling disabled fiance and applying to jobs and a PhD program.

What we are doing is a "break" from the level of stuff we did most of our life, and so a lot of the time - while I don't think any of it is in bad taste or ill intent and all - a lot of the time, people commenting on my academic / career success (grades, progress, education, skill, etc) or how much I work tends to come off as really out of touch to the context of my whole life and trauma history.

And thats okay!

Cause I can't expect everyone to assume my trauma or magically know it, and I'm largely okay with that and learned to not sweat it for those that aren't close to me.

That said, it was like half a month or a month ago that my writing partner commented that and every so often I think about it and its odd how much of a bitter sweet yet positive lingering affect that acknowledgement had on me. Cause him and I are both the "we keep going and we keep going and we keep going and in the end we live" approach to life and all the shit we've both been thrown and I guess having someone who shares that tenacity comment on my like.... extremity, especially knowing my history was oddly really.... validating in a weird way.

Cause I was just like ".... yeah, its trauma and I don't really know how to do anything else. It's really my best effort to Not Work Hard but *shrugs*"

Cause unironically, one of the longest running recovery projects we've been doing is breaking down our productivity and breaking down our "high functioning" nature and doing less in life - but even at functional multiplicity / final fusion / wishiwashi recovery, its still one of the things from trauma we struggle to moderate properly.

I dunno, just some trauma talk with the Feathers / Mostly Riku