#in order to heal my sad and broken soul

[fakehusbandgarbagedump]

[kiame-sama]

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4

Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,

~~~~~~~~

"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"

"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"

"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"

You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.

"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."

It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.

"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."

You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.

Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.

"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."

"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."

Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.

~~~~~~~~

Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.

"Please..."

Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.

"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."

A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.

It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.

You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.

Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.

The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.

"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"

He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.

"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."

Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.

A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.

"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."

~~~~~~~~

Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.

All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.

On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.

No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.

[oceansssblue]

might i request: with either tech or echo, the choice is yours

jedi f!reader- she gets fatally injured on a mission in order to protect the rest of the bad batch and dies in his arms

after her death, she appears to him as a force ghost while he is grieving, provides comfort

thanks!!!

Angsty one with Echo coming right up! Can life throw anything else to this poor man? 🥹💔

At least he got some healing&comfort at the end. Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"THE GHOST OF YOU"

ECHO/GHOST!F READER 📩💔(💖)

WARNINGS: DEATH OF MAIN CHARACTER (AKA YOU) AND APPEARING AS A FORCE GHOST, SADNESS, CRYING, HEARTACHE, MENTIONS OF WAR AND BEING TIRED AS IN BEING TIRED OF FIGHTING&LIFE, DEEP CONVERSATION, COMFORT.

Echo stared at the dried blood staining his hand. He could feel his emotions swirling restlessly inside of him; threatening to spill and destroy everything in its way in just a matter of seconds or minutes. He was alone in the barracks of Clone Force 99; Hunter reporting their disastrous mission to the Jedi while the rest swallowed their pain down and tried to let it drain in the shower.

Echo had done his best not to crumble in battle either. When his general had been on his arms back on the Marauder on their way back to Kamino, though, he's voice had being pannicked and desperate; he literally begged you not to leave him, to "please, please, stay with me". You had answered with a pained tired smile and fluttering eyes; a broken whisper of a "I'll always be with you, my Echo" the last words that left your lips.

You hadn't. You hadn't stayed; you had died on that next moment, your eyes shutting closed and your body growing limp, and all Echo could do was hold what was left of you in his trembling arms, his heart shattering in a million pieces while he fought not to let an ugly loud sob out, needing to be in private before he allowed himself to break down.

Tears blurred his vision again, his own body slumping down on the floor this time; and the tide of his emotions finally ripped his soul, body shaking uncontrollably with his broken cries and sobs. He closed his eyes shut, bending down on himself until his forehead pressed against the cold floor; trying to hold himself together through the heartache and pain.

Tears wet his cheeks. Flashes of his moments with you runned through his mind. Some happy, some soft and vulnerable, some sad and angry. All of his lost oportunities were relived too; all of his regrets of not having persued anything further with you. All of his childish hopes, dreams and desires washed away by the emptiness of your abscence.

His cries turned to small quiet whimpers and sounds when he pressed his jaw shut. He was so tired. He was so tired of fighting one time after another, of loved ones being taken away from him, of him always pushing through under the worst conditions only to be forced to live through this constant heartache. He just...

"Don't wanna do this anymore" he whinned to himself, shaking against the floor, eyes still closed. "Please..."

He didn't know who he was begging to; but he did know for what. He wanted the pain to go away. Wanted his loved ones to come back. Wanted to...

"Echo" a soft, gentle voice whispered at his side.

Recognising said voice, Echo quickly rightened himself to a sitting position, prosthetic knees scrapping against the floor; eyes shooting upwards.

"C-cyare?" his voice could barely be heard in the quietness of the room.

His breath hitched when you nodded and sadly smiled. It was you; the shape of your body and features perfectly recognisable even in this blue, translucent, wavering tone. Echo quickly understood; you were a Force ghost. He had heard it before.

"Cyare..." he called you, voice trembling, before breaking down into another cry again.

Echo felt your presence by his shoulder; almost as if you were touching him, even if he knew that that couldn't be possible like this.

"I'm sorry, Echo" you whispered, softly. "But I'm glad you're all okay".

Echo wanted to snap at you. Wanted to shout that they hadn't needed your help, that the Batch could defend themselves; but the truth was that they would have died without your sacrifice, and it wasn't fair to put it on you. Echo always knew of your devotion to helping others; he knew you would do it all over again.

He took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself. He stared at your Force ghost.

"You know I loved you, right?" He told you, voice unwavering, feelings vulnerable and completely exposed to you.

The raw emotions in his eyes and face would have made your heart ache if you could still feel one. You slowly sat down in front of him.

"I know" you smiled, a tiny fond thing.

Echo felt relieved upon hearing the answer; and confused as well. You could almost hear his question. Then why didn't you do anything about it?

"I had made an oath to the Order" you gently, patiently explained. "No attachments. You always made my promise start to crumble. Now... I wish I had forgotten about it and used my time better".

Echo closed his eyes and saved those words in his soul.

He opened then again and looked at you. He looked like a lost child, your beautiful Echo.

"I don't know how to carry on" he whispered, broken.

You tried to send a wave of the Force to comfort him.

"You have good brothers that will help you to move on" you soothed him, gentle.

Echo sighed and glanced down at the floor.

"I'm tired of this war".

You couldn't tell him much else.

"I know".

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Echo looked back at you.

"Have you... Fives?" He temptitavely asked, hope in his resignment.

You smiled.

"There's a process to become a Force ghost" you explained. "It's easier for the Jedi to complete. But I've felt his esence. He's here. I'll try to help him reach that state".

Echo nodded, smiling sadly.

"Good. Good" he mumbled, exhausted.

Sleep was tugging at the corners of his mind; his emotions draining the last of his energy. He didn't think he'd have strength to even move to the hammock on the other side of the room.

"Will you stay a bit longer?" He asked, blinking slowly, body dropping to one side.

You nodded softly.

"I can't stay permanently, but I'll stay now. And I'll be here in the future if you need me as well. I'll always keep an eye on you, Echo".

You caressed his cheek even if you couldn't feel the warmth of his skin like that.

Echo sighed pleasantly. He did feel a tingling sensation on his cheek. He wasn't totally alone. Never would be.

"Thank you" he whispered, eyes finally closing, body growing lax against the floor.

You smile and keep on comforting him.

"Just find strength in your new family, love. Fives and I will wait for you. You'll help me keep his Force ghost from terrorising shinnies" you joke, quietly.

Echo hums; the thought pulling a soft smile on his lips before sleep finally takes him away.

You stay until you hear the Batch's tired steps making his way back to their barracks, and you know they'll take care of him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

*Cries*

Back to main masterlist here:

[yannaryartside]

What would Carmy fight for.

I will like to make a point on an element I would like to see in Carmy's psychology for him to complete his character arc. I think the themes of the show are not just depression and regression but especially self-destruction since that is a common struggle for people who have survived abuse. All this started with Michael's ultimate act of self-destruction, and we watched Carmen endure now an entire season of self-derogatory and toxic thoughts while we know he suffers from fire hallucinations that could be interpreted as suicidal/self-harm fantasies.

This is to reflect on where Carmy is and where he could go, but based on personal experience as someone who also battled self-destruction as the result of abuse. Because of that, I may get a little dark but mostly cheesy and an individual paragraph; the rest is a regular analysis. If you had a close relationship with someone who was or is suicidal, proceed at your own discretion. Speculation of s4 as well.

But the core of what I want to talk about is here.

is a simple concept, but even more intricate when talking about depression because is not like you can switch a light in your brain. It is not like love, career, inspiration, and family can save Carmy; it wouldn't have saved Michael, either. So let's get into it.

The thing that I find the most beautiful of the pilot of s3 is that Carmy becoming a chef was an act of defiance. He build himself to express the full extent of his potential. You may say, he gained claws. But then he came back, to confront the monster that had made him a broken animal to begin with. And in the bridge, he met that bear again, without knowing what the bear really wanted from him.

I love the discussion on how therapy or even what type of therapy would be useful for Carmy, but I really have a hard time imagining him breaking out of the “bear spell” without something or someone guiding the way.

Both events and people serve as catalyst of change, and for me that’s what makes s4 the more exciting season so far, because it got to be the season of change making. But I cannot avoid to dread it thinking of all the loose ends that may be necessary to close in order for carmy to fully heal.

This is the personal chapter. My own battle with depression came to point inflection in a conversation with a Jesuit priest who was serving as a teacher and psychologist at my university (he had a degree for both, ok, I wasn’t in us back then). This priest, let’s call him Miguel, was a fantastic teacher who genuinely cared about the students. To not make this story too long on how he came to suspect I was really struggling, quite suicidal at the age of 20, the important part is he had an exchange with me that could be summarized with this

“many catholics wait for God to give them permission and guidance to be great, instead of putting our faith in that he has given us a soul has powerfull as his. We can use our power use to fight to defend the lies this worlds told us about ourselves, or we can fight for our own truth, how we wanna live life, how we define ourselves”

Religious image aside and almost 10 years of therapy and self help books later. It all keeps coming back to that basic concept of “what are you fighting for”

Is the bad wolf or the good wolf winning the battle in your heart? Which one are you feeding?

I need to know what is gonna make Carmy fight for his own life, against his own depression, self loathing conceptions, the abuse he has endured, the relationships he has used as a filler and the ones that actually build him. He has already taken a huge jump, accepting what he endured for chef David was abuse, releasing the anger and sadness behind it. But I would assume he still holds up to the abuse he suffered from his mother.

What is it gonna be next: breaking point? A revelation? An advice that would allow him to see himself as something more than defective and see the abuse and malfunction for what it is? Idk. Even conversations with loved ones and inspiration can serve for this.

I am gonna pay a lot of attention to his mental state at the beginning of s4. I feel most of the clues may be there. But he stills holds to a lot of shit that doesn’t serve him anymore. And it makes sense he didn’t get rid of any of it before confronting chef David, at some point, our survival techniques, even based on trauma, keep us alive.

But he also just had the biggest professional failure of his life after that review. He may loose the crew, the restaurant of his family, and he may loose Sydney, all while having to close his feelings for his brothers death, his resentment towards her mother, and the idolization of a relationship that never was solid to begin with.

Carmy really has no solid ground to step in.

I would really be interested if Syd decides to keep herself afloat instead of drowning trying to keep them both afloat. It’s not her style, she may support him, but maybe not be his emotional anchor. Idk, I am in the fence on this subject specifically since the last scene of her in s3. I think it would make sense for her to stay beside him, but with an element of agency that brings the relationship to a point of no return. From both of them.

Regardless, I wonder what will be the reason Carmy would fight for. What would give him that last breath of courage to decide what’s best for him. To fight for his own life, by his own hands.

More than another depressed character saved by love and plot, I wanna see a fighter. Without a fight, there is no love or plot, not that matters anyhow, Michael had both, and he got tired of fighting. And nobody else could save him. The lies were too loud, and he had stopped listening to his own truth, his own dreams, feelings, and hopes.

So I guess for me the dramatic question of the show has always been…would Carmy embrace the bear and fight the things that had him caged all this time?

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"Have you ever loved me?" Obi-Wan Kenobi x F! Reader

Summary: Long ago you loved a Jedi, he broke your heart when you were ready to give up everything for him but he was not. Now years later, the galaxy is at war, and you might be the only one to pull him back from the edge. But can you forgive him?

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, language, second-chance romance, slight ooc.

Cross Posted on AO3

The Past

“Master Yoda,” you bow your head, “I have made the decision to leave the Jedi Order.” 

“A difficult decision made you have, padawan. Changed the course of your entire life you have.” 

“Yes,” you nod, “but I must. I’ve broken one of the sacred vows and I would rather leave on my own accord than be tossed out once I was discovered.” 

“Wise,” he nods sadly, “seeing you leave, brings a great sadness to my heart. You are a skilled Jedi Healer and a brave warrior. Tell me,” he urges, “what sacred vows did you break hmm?” 

“I fell in love,” a single tear streams down your cheek, and you blink to hold back the rest. 

“And did they feel the same?” 

“I thought they did,” you sniff, “but I was wrong. They love another. One I will never be able to compete with.” 

“But still wish to leave you do?” You nod, silently, the tears pouring down your cheeks. He sighs, “then I will let you go. What now will you do?” 

“I still wish to be a healer, Master Yoda. Even if I’m not a Jedi, I can still use my gifts to heal the sick and injured.” 

“A calling most noble,” he stands, grabbing his cane. “I will miss seeing your smile light up the halls of the temple. But I understand why go you must.” 

“Thank you,” you bow, “Master Yoda.” You turn to leave when he says your name, giving you pause as you turn to look at the Master. 

“I will not tell a soul what you have shared with me this evening. No one will ever know the reason you chose to leave the order. Not even young Master Kenobi.” 

“I-I” you stutter, shocked, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckles, walking past you with a grin, “old I may be, but blind I am not.” 

The news of your departure spread like wildfire throughout the temple. Several other Palawan’s and friends stopping by as you packed with small tokens and a kind word. All but one. 

You grab your bags, feeling a heaviness in your heart at leaving your room. So many firsts happened here; your first time living alone, first time you burnt bantha noodles, first kiss. Your eyes shutter closed and you resist the urge to cry when the door slides open. 

“So it’s true,” Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, the door hissing as it slides shut behind him. “You’ve left the Jedi Order.” 

“Yes,” you swallow down the tears at seeing him again. “I think it’s for the best. I can’t keep going day by day hiding how I feel.”

“Instead you’re leaving me,” his voice sounds broken, and he walks over to the window glancing out at the busy streets of Courasant. “You’re leaving everything you’ve ever worked for.” 

“Yes,” you whisper, “I’m going home back to Naboo. I’m going to be a healer, treat the sick and injured.” 

“Fall in love and marry someone,” he turns, his arms crossed over his chest. “Give him children, and live happily ever after.” 

“I can’t stay here."

He’s silent, “I don’t want you to go,” he lowers his arm, taking a step towards you, “we don’t have to continue, we can be friends. You don’t have to leave.” 

Obi-Wan grabs your hands and you see the glisten in his eyes, mirrored in your own. “Have you ever loved me?” your voice breaks when he remains silent, the one thing he’s never been able to say back. “Goodbye Obi-Wan,” you pull your hands out of his grasp, his grip tightening before you let go, grabbing your bags and leaving your life behind. 

The Present 

“Doc!” Minnie, your assistant shouts from across the room, “you got a call!” 

“Dank Farrick,” you whisper, pressing a hand to your eyes before shouting, “I’m coming!” 

The figure on the holo gives you pause and you slow your steps, a furrow to your brow. “Master Yoda?” 

“Ah,” he smiles saying your name, “seeing you again brings me great joy.” 

“Thank you, Master. It’s good to see you as well.” You nod, waiting for him to speak, but the silence stretches on, “uhm,” you rub the back of your head, “is there something I can help you with, Master?”

“There is,” he grins, “know you do, that at war we are with the separatists. The loss of life is great, and we are in need of assistance desperately. I’ve heard from your former master that you’ve become a great healer and I am upon you calling to come heal our troops.” 

You sit down, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you. “Master, I’m honored. But my place is here on Naboo.” 

“Thought you say that, I did.” A figure steps behind him and you jump to your feet seeing the woman. 

“Senator Amidala,” you bow.

She says your name and you straighten up, “I am calling upon you to join the war effort as a representative of Naboo. Your practice will be well looked after in your absence. The Queen is sending the royal physician to look after it while you’re gone.” 

“Senator,” you glare at the little green man, “I am honored. But my place is here with my patients.” 

A moment passes between the two, Master Yoda and Senator Amidala sharing a look. He sighs, “there is reason more, wish for you to join we do.” 

You look between the two before taking a step back, “no.” 

“Help, he needs,” Yoda puts both hands on his cane, “his troops are dying, and with each loss,” he shakes his head, “for the toll of loss is great, I worry.” 

“I can’t,” you whisper, “I’m not strong enough.” 

“You are,” Senator Amidala encourages, “you’ve become the most sought after healer on the planet.” 

Yes, you think, the only one I could never heal was me.

“Needs you, he does,” Master Yoda looks into your eyes, his voice echoing in your head, need him, you do. 

Minnie comes through the door, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Royal physician has arrived Doc. He says he’s here to take your place for awhile.” 

You turn from her and back to Master Yoda sending your thoughts through the force. Will I ever come back? 

Only decide that, you can. 

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Doctor,” the clone trooper with golden markings shouts reaching a hand out to help you from the hovercraft. “Good to have you aboard ma’am.” 

“I’m glad to be here,” the ship powers down behind you. 

“I’m Commander Cody,” he removes his helmet, shaking your hand, “second in command.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Commander,” you give his hand a solid squeeze before letting go to grab your bags. 

He grabs the other duffle, “let me get that for you ma’am, I’m going to take you to your quarters and then up to the bridge to see the General.” 

“Perfect,” you fall into step beside him, your stomach churning. 

“I understand that you’re a doctor on Naboo. From what I’ve been told, it’s a beautiful planet.” His words make you smile, thinking of home. 

“It is, I love it very much.” 

“What made you join the war then?”

“Call it a favor to an old friend. And one very nosey little bastard,” you mumble the last part but he bursts out laughing anyways. 

“Seems like a story there,” he chuckles, arriving at a door. “This is your quarters, if you need anything the barracks are two levels below and the General is just down the hall.” 

“Thank you, Commander,” you look around the room, quietly surveying the space before you drop your bag on the bed. “This shall do quite nicely.” 

“Would you like some time to freshen up or would you like to go meet the General?” 

“Lead the way,” you hold out a hand, your heart pounding so loud you’re almost sure he can hear it. 

Commander Cody plays tour guide as you make your way to the bridge. And you can see why the men chose him for Commander he is thorough in making sure you know the ship and where everything goes. “This is the bridge,” he leads you onto the ledge, several troopers on computers look your way giving you a nod. 

“You need to sleep!” A man shouts at the end of the aisle and Commander Cody slows down as we approach. “You’ve been up for nearly three days working on this plan. You know it inside and out!” 

“It’s not perfect yet,” your eyes sting when you hear his voice again. “I need it to be perfect, we’ve lost to many men.” 

He sounds almost delirious and you look at the young man quickly recalling the name, Anakin Skywalker. He’d just become his padawan maybe a year before you left. “Talk to him,” he tosses out his hands exasperated, “if you won’t listen to me, Master at least listen to the doctor.” 

“I don’t need a doctor,” Obi-Wan throws over his shoulder, “I’m fine.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you speak up. His hands freeze on the papers, his posture rigid and he drops his head to his chest. 

“Maybe you’re right Anakin,” he sounds defeated, heaving a great sigh. “I do need to sleep. I’m hearing ghosts in my head.” 

“If I recall,” you step around Commander Cody and past Anakin, “you never believed in ghosts.” 

“Leave me be,” he groans, pressing his palms into his eyes, “why do you insist on tormenting me?” 

The room is silent and you look around and notice the room has been vacated. “How am I torturing you? Explain that to me.” 

“I let you go,” he whispers, dropping into a chair, his eyes covered. “I should have told you the truth and you never would have left.” 

“And what truth is that,” you reach out a hand and press it to his shoulder. He turns quickly grabbing your hand and running his fingers over your palm. 

“You’re real,” he states, looking up at you with wide eyes. “How are you here?” 

You ignore him, “what truth did you fail to tell me?” 

Obi-Wan sighs your name, his hand pulling until you’re sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as he inhales deep breathes at your neck. “You still wear the same perfume,” he closes his eyes, forehead pressed to your shoulder. 

“Of course,” you whisper, running your fingers through his long hair, “you gave it to me.” 

“Do you remember the last thing you asked me,” he raises his head, meeting your eyes. 

“Yes,” you tremble, your hands pressed together to prevent the shaking, “I asked if you ever loved me.” 

He lifts one finger and puts it under your chin, his voice clear when he says, “ask me again.” 

“Obi-Wan,” you feel the tears stream down your cheek, “I can’t do this again.” 

“Ask me,” he commands, before softening, “please, darling.” 

The air around you swirls with the force, his emotions clearly displayed as he awaits if you’ll ask, if you’ll let him right a past wrong. “Have you ever loved me, Obi-Wan?” 

This time he does not hesitate, “oh stars, yes.”

"What about the Order? You'd never give that up and I won't ask you to. That's why I left the first time. I never wanted you to have to choose."

He bowed his head, "It took me a long time and several meditations to realize that was why you left."

"Why did you think?"

He lifts his head, "I thought you didn't love me. That you were sparing yourself the heartache when the temple realized what a lovesick fool I was. Even my Master knew." You stay silent, watching the emotions flicker, "and then Qui Gon died, and I became Master to Anakin. It changed everything."

"I can't be your dirty secret, Obi-Wan," you stand, going over to the viewing station, seeing the far reaches of space before you. "I came here to do a duty and I will fulfill that obligation."

"So there is someone else," he stands beside you, his hands tucked inside his robes, "you fell in love with another. Did you marry him? Stars, do you have children?"

You turn to him, hands crossed over your chest, "for being one of the wisest Jedi, you're an idiot." He turns to you, a wide eyed stare on his face. "I love," your voice cracks on a sob, "you, Obi-Wan. There is no other, it's always been you."

"I didn't dare hope," he presses a hand to your cheek. "Why didn't you move on? Live your life?"

"Could you have?" you grab his wrists, "if you were given the choice. If I had stayed and you had left, would you have fallen in love with another?"

"No," he shakes his head, "never. I just wanted you to be happy." His eyes soften, as he brushes the tears off your cheeks.

"You make me happy," you press your forehead to his own.

"What are we going to do?" he closes his eyes, pulling you into his chest, and running his hands up and down your back. You fit perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces finding their way back to one another. "I can't leave the war," he shakes his head with a sigh, "my men need a strong leader, and Anakin still has much to learn."

"I understand. And I will stand beside you. We can fight this war and you can finish his training. But when it's done, we leave, go to my home on Naboo, or start a new life somewhere else. Put away the lightsaber and live in peace."

He's quiet, contemplating everything you've said before he nods. "Okay, let's do that."

You pull away from him, "do you mean that?" His eyes study yours before his lips turn up in a smile, exhaustion lining his eyes.

"Ask me again," he urges.

You swallow, "have you ever loved me?"

"Yes," he nods, leaning forward to kiss you softly, a piece of your heart sliding back into place, "now and all the lifetimes after."

On the other side of the galaxy, Master Yoda feels his heart warm in his chest, pressing a hand to it with a smile. "Knew they would figure it out one day, I always did."

[22hemi12]

Another one of my Unedited thoughts, awhile back I was super into anything that has to do with humans having wings, like maximum ride.

So I made a very small and unfinished Winged! Crosshair X Reader. (A male reader was in mind)

Taking one look at Crosshair, I know he's nervous.

"I've never really even looked at them myself" Crosshair and I were in our blacks, outside while the other batch members were in town.

Worry etching my soul at the fact that he has never taken care of his wings.

His wings were still bound flat to his back, I smiled at him. It's so sad how the kaminoans Clipped their wings, even sadder that the Jetti and the galactic wings organisation continue to let them.

Like the clones are lesser than any other winged being.

"would you feel better if you looked at mine first?" Crosshair looked at me confused.

"I've seen your wings before" I smiled at him. Without answering him I opened my wings, wide, watching the amazement on his face.

He reached up almost instinctively to touch them, stopping himself short. He glances at me. I nodded, feeling him softly graze his fingers over my feathers.

His eyes shined in fascination then sadness. "this is what our wings are supposed to look like?"

He glanced at me before turning his back, even with his wings bound they looked so sad. What should be white beautiful pristine wings were patchy and stained with blood.

I dare not think what the other batch wings look like.

Softly unbinding his wings, stopping every once and a while at his hisses of pain.

I sigh, dropping the offending cloth, moving my hands in between his poor wings to softly massage his back muscles.

At my assistance, his wings slowly shuddered to life and unfold, once his wings were fully unfolded I took a true look.

It's worse than I thought, missing chunks of feathers, broken feathers that have stabbed into his poor wing muscles.

It'll take months for his wings to heal and even more to learn how to use them.

Allowing Crosshair to fold them again, turning back around I see evidence of tears. Holding his face and kissing his wet cheeks.

"It's okay, I promise, I'll help" He nodded. Rubbing his forehead against mine. "Come, Tech said there was a lake nearby, let's clean off the blood"

-

Watching the blood swirl around us as I massage his wings, removing broken feathers and applying bacta to wounds that need them.

Now that his wings are cleaner I'm able to see any patterns or markings, seeing black tips on his pure white feathers.

The back of his wings has more black than the front.

His wings would look stunning when they are full of feathers. Sighing I kiss his bare shoulder, feeling him chuckle.

"you'll have to open your wings at least once a day so you get used to it" I see him nod. "Are you okay?"

"yeah, still getting used to someone who isn't my brothers caring" wrapping my arms around his torso.

"well I'm not going anywhere, my ram'ser"

-

It had been a year, and helping the boys with missions made the time go by fast.

We were on a planet, and keeping the wings a secret from the boys was hard, but now, Crosshair is ready to show them.

Hunter stood at the top of the ramp while Echo and Tech sat on the steps. Wrecker was sitting on the grass.

"So what do the two of you want to show us?" Echo asked.

"I knew you two were hiding something, but I didn't want to pry" Hunter had a smug look on his face, like he knew.

"Are you pregnant?" Wrecker asked with an innocent look on his face.

"Neither of them can get pregnant Wrecker" Tech explains making Wrecker groan sadly.

Crosshair groans "this was a bad idea" turning to me, nervousness etching his face.

"You'll be fine, besides when did you boys start listening to orders?" I teased, he smiled a little, taking a breath. He removed his chest piece, getting everyone's attention.

Taking one last look to me he unfurled his wings full of pristine white and black feathers.

[hannahwatcheshorror]

SUBSERVIENCE (2024)

Did I pick this film because I wanted to watch Megan Fox be hot and pretend to be a robot? You bet your a** I did. The fact that it was a spooky film was only a bonus. Is this film literally just Adult M3GAN? Yes. Is that entirely underwhelming? Yes. Is it a bad film? No. Worth watching? I’ll answer that with a question, how much did you like M3GAN?

⭐⭐⭐.5

A father gets a maid robot to try and help him around the house. His little girl, Isla, names the robot Alice after Alice in Wonderland and likes her a lot. There is a minor incident with broken glass but Isla isn’t hurt, only Alice. Alice heals almost instantly which is creepy but also not that creepy because it is the future and she is a highly sophisticated robot. Turns out the wife, Maggie, who you think is dead is just in the hospital waiting on a new heart. She is less than impressed with how stunning Alice is and doesn’t quite believe that the daughter chose her (which is true). Alice catches Nick watching Casablanca which she knows about but has never actually seen so Nick orders her to erase her memory of the movie plot and watch it with him. After a sensual restart she is happy to watch the movie in, what I can only describe as, the scene from Wall-E when he watches the musical on TV. It is literally just that scene, only instead of a cute little rusty robot we have Hot Megan Fox and instead of Hello Dolly the movie that is changing the robots wiring is Casablanca. Do you guys get what the fuck I’m saying here! Y’all thought you were getting M3GAN 2.0 and we got Wall-E 2.0. 

Just kidding, this was M3GAN the sequel with some Bicentennial Man sprinkled in there for good measure. I said in my M3GAN review humans would only make a doll that advanced for war or for fucking and in this movie I’m right. Maggie gets the chance at a new heart but before she goes in for surgery she has a heart to heart (ha) with Alice about taking care of Nick in case things don’t go so well. Which is good because a massive storm happens and they can’t get the heart in time so it is given to someone else. Alice tries to cheer Nick up with a handjob but it only makes him more sad (can’t imagine why). Then Alice adopts Maggie's voice to help seduce Nick and fucks him. It was a sexy scene but it was a cheating scene and those make me really sad, even if Megan Fox is involved. Nick is feeling really guilty suddenly (good) and Maggie actually gets a new heart. After recovering for some time she comes home to Islas' delight and Alice's chagrin.

The primary user, Nick, needs to be protected so Alice goes and kills a guy threatening his job (that is one way to solve the problem). Nick is so surprised the guy is dead he doesn’t even suspect that his SIM could have done it (because the bots don’t kill people, right?). But then when Alice tries to politely ask Maggie if she can fuck her husband, Maggie finds out they fucked before and flips out, while she and Nick fight the baby boy is crying. Alice takes it upon herself to attempt drowning the poor thing as she suddenly thinks this is the best thing for her primary user. They fight her, she gets some scary visual damage, and she goes down. She is taken back to the lab in a scene nearly shot-for-shot like when M3GAN was taken back and then she used her AI to hack the computers only this time Alice killed the nerds. 

Now Alice has two bodies, her old busted one that she takes to talk to Nick, “Little Alice fell down a hole, bumped her head and bruised her soul.” The second Alice is blonde and is going for the children at the hospital. She is stronger than all the other robots and can shut them down, she finds Maggie and the kids and is about to kill Maggie before Nick arrives just in time and guns her down in his car (the one he is always fixing up), Maggie pulls him out of the flaming vehicle but he is unresponsive. Too bad because Alice is still moving around and she is creepy crawling right towards Maggie then is trying to choke her out, next thing you know, WHAM, Nick hits her off of Maggie and Maggie stabs her through the brain core. They win the day and love each other again. But back at the lab they plugged in the computers again and someone is waking back up… Roll credits.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

The tag rambles in (the post about moth/dead!us fluttering around Foul Legacy) have given me even more random angsty ideas hehehe

Also, for a bit of size context, I personally would see us as an Atlas Moth (they're very pretty, just like everyone here <3).

"in an alternate universe Childe vanished and a sparkly moth started following you around" Ack okay but the simultaneous misery and nostalgia at getting a mini version of the big moth that we love so much. Honestly, I think that prospect would just break us, so here's a few ideas and whatnot: - Underside of the moth's wings would be sparkly, while the topside would probably be some sort of dark purple. - Antennae that look like Legacy's horns <3 <3 - Literal-moth moth would probably try to stick around our hands as much as possible - Unfortunately, we can't pet him like we could when he was mothman. Because, y'know, fragile creature and all that.

"ohhh if the moth gets hurt (because it's so easy for them to get hurt) Foul Legacy starts sobbing" - Moths can't fly again if a wing breaks, unfortunately ;-; - Frankly, I can indeed see Foul Legacy just end up sobbing at a wing of ours being broken (ooo that's a new idea, maybe I'll touch it later...) - Us, with a broken wing, crawling over and around both his claws and mask, also maybe nestling in his fur(hair)? - Uncertain if a soul moth (as I'm gonna call us) needs nutrients like a regular moth. However, if we do, then Foul Legacy may just stop by forests or something frequently in order to keep as as healthy as we can be <3



~ :D Anon (Sorry it took me so long, was busy with tests ehe)

Note: I removed the link, hopefully it'll send this time? If it does, then woop-

aaaa yeah tumblr asks can be very VERY finicky especially on anon for some reason??? once i tried to send one in and it wouldn't let me because i had too many commas, tsk tsk!!! (original ask here <33)

Foul Legacy little moth: !!!! oh my goodness imagine you're in that state where you're trying so hard to cling onto hope, trying so hard to seem fine so you don't worry your friends and family- and it seems like the little moth that started following you everywhere only helps you heal, or at least people think it should since it's a constant, comforting presence

but the moth knows the truth- it knows how you sometimes break down when you're alone in your room, no matter how happy you try to seem during the day. it knows how you cry into your hands, your sobs of "where could he be?" as you despair over your lost Abyssal monster, your missing Foul Legacy

the little moth can only perch on your fingers, fuzzy antennae waving in your face like it's trying to wipe away your tears, and despite your sadness you still find the energy to cup your friend in your hands and smile wearily- just as kind as Childe remembers

you little moth: Foul Legacy will break if his tiny moth companion gets hurt- even more so if it was by him, even on accident. his talons and armor is sharp, deadly to something so small and delicate, and he cradles the moth in his hands and weeps. the little insect flicks its antennae, almost as if it's trying to reassure him, but all he can see is the rip in the poor thing's wing

he doesn't know the moth is you, intent on keeping him company even after death- he simply knows that it feels familiar, that the creature is dear to him and someone to be treasured, for when else will a moth willingly become friends with a beast? he swears you keep you safe from now on, allowing you to snuggle into his fluff or hair, away from his claws and teeth. occasionally you'll go and perch on one of his horns, happily enjoying the breeze that you can't fly in anymore, at least not as well

on particularly peaceful days he tentatively allows you to sit on one of his claws, basking in the sun and looking awfully proud of yourself despite being a moth. you flutter your wings and he flutters his back, and Legacy can see you happily waving your antennae in the air

at those moments, Childe knows peace

[thenightpoem]

Farewell

Many dances have passed

Changes have appeared in the cast

Yet here I stand

Singing my chant

Warm yet cold

This is my song

My call to the old

For it is this that I long

Oh, mighty Chronos

Ruler of time and the Cosmos

I call upon thee

Bestow your power on me

Or if that isn’t not good

Then if you could

Then use your sickle and wren

And take me there again

Make the dances reverse

And sink in ancient hieroglyph

Let myself in those treasures immerse

And my past once more relive

O, mighty titan

Who you so many frighten

Again, I bow and beg you

Make my wish come true

From above your voice I hear

For your song is so sweet and sincere

I couldn’t help but come here

To listen and to it be near

For millennia I have lived

And I’ve seen the world turn and shift

Yet such a sound soft yet strong like a gong

It is unlike any I’ve heard before, your song

Strong yet Soft. Sad yet oh so fair

Desire, happiness and many a tear

Woven with such tenderness and care

It glows so warm and gentle, like a solar flair

Such a beauty is your aching

That my being you managed to enchant

Listening so closely, even my soul is breaking

So much, I can’t help but along to chant

All the while I am sad

For I feel your pain

Tying you down like a chain

As you’re walking down the path

And while your song you play

As the night will soon give way to day

Yet beneath its eyes so starry

All I can say is I’m sorry

I’m sorry for as I here stand

Hearing your desire so grand

It hurts me so much, for I can’t

Your sweet, gentle wish grant

Your soul so pure and sincere

Many mortals I have known for I am old

Yet you are special, my dear

Among the rocks, a gem. Amidst metals, pure gold

So, you have heard?

What pain and longing I harbour?

Through my many a soulful word

Carrying my deepest hurt

Yes dear, I have

And I simply cannot believe

What beauty you’ve made from grief

Superior to any noble’s treasured staff

If you like my song so much

Then is it much to ask of thee

For if you know so much

Would you please guide me?

Help me through my plight

For you much have seen and are wise

Aid me to regain my light

And soothe my soul’s desperate cries

Come here, dear

Let me see you face

Please, come near

Let me your soul embrace

Inside it is heavy rain

Filled with memories of days younger

Sweetness turned to pain

What is now black was once color

There is something you do

You can regain your light

And you can shine anew

And rise in joyful flight

There is something you can do

To heal your broken soul and heart

Your journey will be long and hard

Yet soon, you’ll shine anew

I know how to heal my hurt

Yet it is so hard

To fix my heart

And fly again like a bird

That, well I know

There is no need to despair though

For I will always be here

And on from above I’ll cheer

Is it truth that you are now spilling?

Or am I just dreaming?

That you are so kind and willing

Your help so readily to be offering

No, dreaming you are not

I really do want

To help you untie your chain’s knot

And form with you a bond

Oh, then you I must thank

For down here coming

I must be frank

Your listening has been comforting

Moments like these are rare

When people are willing to just be there

Without a need for something to uttter

Not a talker, but a kind, compassionate viewer

Now, my dear

The time is near

Soon the night will give way

To a new, shinny day

But before I go

There is something I want you to know

In order to be free from the chain

And cease your pain

Let yourself flow

Be one with the sea

Don’t worry, take it slow

And soon you’ll be free

Then I guess it is time

That I stopped wallowing in regret

Let the bells outside chime

And take a deep breath

People come and go

Yet you are here

To watch and help me grow

To soothe my soul and my mind clear

If you say it’s the only way

Then my tears and loneliness I must quell

For here I cannot stay

Even if around me it seems to be hell

Reality is scary, my dear

For it is filled with much pain and change

Yet, though to you it may seem strange

Lights are not just far, they are also near

Cherising your past is great

Still, to life there is so much more

So my dear never lose faith

And open that old, busted door

There is no point to regret

I’ve done it for too long

Thinking of things undone and unsaid

And turn them into a song

Those people, things are long gone

For they, as I much have changed

Now I stand underneath the dawn

As the colors above have rearranged

Thank you, Chronos

For listening and your kind words

With you by my side, I can defeat Phobos

And rise again, as would birds

Now it is time

To finally break free from my cell

Then, I shall listen to this divine sign

And end this painful spell

Now my wounds I must mend

Close this door of this hotel

For this chapter has come to an end

You have been loved and cherished

In my heart I’ll keep you untarnished

Yet now, to you all I must tell

Farewell, guys. Farewell…

[flownintothesun]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 :

  ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── note: these are pieces of my private writing and are not meant to be used as memes/starters/etc. please do not like, reblog, or use in your own writing. that is stealing, and while we support pirates, we do not support writers thieving other writers. ♡

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  “You are so brave, and you don’t even know it.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "I truly believe that hope is what saves us all."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "Surely the human condition is to feel everything, as deeply you are able. There is darkness, yes. But there is such beauty in the light that I cannot bear to look away, no matter the cost."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  “You’re worth more than what you give to other people, you know.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  “I see that your strength is born from compassion, and I see, too, that your greatest fear is that you have not been compassionate enough.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  He would know her in a room otherwise empty and void, when darkness crept like shadows all around and both of them were, at last, reduced to their very souls. He did not love her for her light, nor for her darkness, but simply because she was, and he could not be himself without his love for her.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "Still, I dare hope."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "I have lived a thousand and one different lives from cover to cover. Each of them are an escape. And they are magic.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "The more you become their idea of you, the less of you there is.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  “Sometimes, storms can be beautiful, too.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  We fit together like two people trying not to fall in love.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "We, too, are blessed to be made of magic."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Tu es ma joie de vivre.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "It is true that everything casts a shadow. But in order to cast shadow, there must first be light.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “The right person will simply pull you closer and lay your fears to rest.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You deserve to have someone do nice things for you.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I want you exactly as you are. You are a beautiful and whole person."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Give it time. You can be beautiful and not be whole, broken and still substantial. You are not less because of the things that have befallen you. It is not fair that they have, and would that we could change the past. But we cannot, we must keep going into this uncertain adventure of life in hopes that we find others whose broken pieces fit pressed against our own.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───      “You have so much goodness and kindness in your heart. Do not let them trade it away, for they will try.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I think...the only thing we can have control of, is the knowledge that we do not have control at all.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Whoever said that time heals all wounds has never experienced loss. And yet, it is only with time that we recreate ourselves and live again.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Anyone who dares to look can find reasons to doubt, and too, anyone searching may still have reasons yet to dream.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Highs and lows, both octaves are still music."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Love does not need to be unconditional or forever for it to be real. It has its time, and in the moments we have it, it is truly beautiful. That stays with us, in pieces, always. I think...perhaps it gets lost, sometimes, buried beneath fear and fingernails dug in and praying for it not to go. We worry so much of what happens if, and what happens when, that we have no joy for what is right in front of us. I do believe in forevers, some smaller than others. The unconditionally is what is left behind as we traverse into a new moment. Unconditionally is the love that remains.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You can never play the song the same way twice. Humans are not metronomes. We feel, and by feeling we create, we become. If I asked you to play me Chopin’s Nocturne, it might sound sad. But if I told you to think of falling in love while you played, what might it sound like, then? Memories are terribly complex things. They may make us laugh, and then cry, to imagine in delight, and to mourn. Music is no different. Not really."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───   “There are no limits to one’s capability of love."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Shouldn’t your someone have a say in whether they love you, too?”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───   “You are so much more than the sum of a moment.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  "I play violin, and think too much about the stars."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Hope is the second greatest force in the world. Above which is only love."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You are my greatest adventure.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I was not created of stardust and the universe’s intentions to be nothing."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Little by little, you become...not what they thought you should be, but who you are.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "You do not have to shrink yourself in order to accommodate those around you. The world is quite a large place, you know. Others can endeavor to meet your needs as well as you meet theirs.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── He’s always been strong enough to smile. To say it’ll be okay. Because of course it will be. It’s never been a lie. The day starts anew tomorrow, and of course there’s another chance for everything to be beautiful. Life is like piano keys in that way...the highs and the lows, both sets of keys are needed to make music and he’s always known that. Always been okay with that. Oh, he sees the beauty in it all, even the brokenness, he swears he does.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  The softness with which something blossoms in Francis that had been left to die: a part of him that burns so brightly, so infinitely — the ability to love, and to be loved. It brings him to life, makes his chest feel too tight to contain his heart.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Muse is a rare thing, and that those who inspire it out of nowhere are the best kinds of people and should be treasured, in any little ways that can be managed.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I find you missing from me in most moments, but the quiet ones perhaps most of all. I turn to tell you something I have learned, or something I have read, or turn to tell you nothing at all only to find that your absence fills me. I know I can never be what you need me to be, but you have become everything to me. And I...I want to be what I can never be for you. Not something in the dark, but something...someone that adores you in the light.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You don’t need to recite poetry to keep me.I’m already yours."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Sometimes, even when we don’t believe in fate, it believes in us. Make a wish.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I could,never find perfect words for the way that you love me. The way your lips chart out constellations. The way you make me want to be alive. The way the world will  fall apart at your fingertips and still not be worthy of you.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You don’t always have to be the strong one. Nothing about this is all right, and neither are you. And that’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I suppose that it’s because there is beauty around me, always and I have been fortunate enough to see it, and to seek it out. What is my duty, if not to be a harbinger of light for my people, so that they can see beauty in this world as well? A candle in the window, at the very least. A reminder that they are not alone.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "They say that you find the brightest light in the darkness."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Monsters are made, out of circumstance. Certainly, monsters can be unmade. Human nature is to change, like leaves of Autumn."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I would give everything I have to live in the world you have dreamed for us. I hope you know that I would.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    “I see you because the music sees you. Because when I look at you, I see music. Because it’s too simple to find a harmony, like walking down a street you’ve been down a hundred times, and catching up to someone you know you’re meant to be there with.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I deviated too much. I never...this is probably ridiculous,” he warns with a laugh. “I always felt as though music was a conversation. Certainly, I could play back Beethoven, Bach, Brahms, Chopin...but it didn’t add to the conversation. It didn’t say anything that hadn’t already been said. When they wrote their pieces, surely it must have come from their hearts, else the soul. No one is a replica of another person, so it stands to reason that what I had to say with my pieces was never the same as what they had first contributed.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Who are you really? Backstage, when the curtain is drawn over the performance, before they call you back for the inevitable encore. Who are you when you can breathe?

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── People exist, after all, to provide what little light they can in an otherwise dark world.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Love, when written by the poets is a collection of beautiful words on a page, arranged just so for the reader’s journey toward the depths of the heart.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Run to me always, let me be your safe landing,”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───  “There could be nothing tragic about one’s ability to love. The tragedy is in the love that has nowhere to go.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You’re safe, my love. You are right where you belong. You’re right where you belong, and you don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to be near it. You can just be."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I never skip ahead to the end of the book. I find there’s far too much to tell in the beginning, and middle. If I skip to the end, I only know the outcome. I think that the best stories are the ones that surprise us."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Isn’t it what the moon asks of the sun as they rise and set, sharing a brief moment in the sky? Simply this: tell me that you love me, and that I am not alone. And so, they take turns — play the parts of sun and moon, reaching for each other in morning’s pastel sky — shining light as they can upon the other’s tender soul.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Francis has based his entire existence around hope — for even in the darkest of his moments — that four-letter word has been a shining light to him — his hero-sword.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I don’t think there is a place in this Earth where I do not love you."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I’ll tell you a secret. It’s okay to be afraid. It only means that it matters, not that the worst is going to happen."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── I am whole here, I am loved, and I am divine.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 236

Thin Lizzie

“Thin Lizzie”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean investigate murders at a hotel devoted to Lizzie Borden, but the paranormal signs all seem to be fake—until they dig deeper

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I just don’t see myself staying in a hotel based on an ax murderer. Like, yes girl, slay, but you won’t be slaying ME

Not the Ghostfacers mention lol

Dean calling out Sam’s serial killer “fetish” (his words, not mine)

What was Misha doing at this time that he couldn’t really commit to being in spn that they have to repeatedly tell us what Cas is watching on Netflix? It’s The Wire now

Are we going to play a game of “how many danishes can Dean eat in one sitting??” This poor b&b owner just got bitched out by his mom about the bakery order that they have no guests to feed to

They’re so not used to old timey fancy, and it’s kind of adorable

I’m kind of sad for Sam that so much of the haunting of this house is fake. Good thing the murders are reeeeeal

STRANGER THINGS KID?! I didn’t know you were in this!

Why’s your mom acting so weird, Stranger Things?

My guy…I don’t believe you’re actually behind this AT ALL or even a catalyst, but everything you’re saying is so suspicious. You secretly stayed in the basement of the Borden house for WEEKS?! You’ve curated your own Lizzie shrine, AND you run a Lizzie Borden chat room. $20 says he dies by the end

Um. Why does he have an envelope with the Mark of Cain on it?? Oh. He met Amara. Ooooo, now Dean knows how quickly she’s growing.

Oh, and Amara ate his soul….I’m not saying that he’s done everything (or even anything) right, but I know what it feels like to lose a hyperfixation. That shit sucks, and I DO feel bad about that

Oh oh oh oh……..Stranger Things’s mom may have gotten HER soul sucked out either

This poor Lizzie fanatic. He’s just INSTANTLY ACCEPTED that he doesn’t have a soul and probably won’t get it back

Stranger Things’s babysitter actually had her broken heart healed and then her soul eaten by Amara

Ax murdering aside, I can’t blame the babysitter for feeling grateful to Amara for what she did for her

The way Len (Lizzie fanatic) is going to take the fall for all the murders because he remembers what it’s like to have a conscience and he’s going to try to fight this thing as long as he can…….wasn’t expecting him to be Dean coded

[eloliasthoughts]

I don't understand you

or myself.

I'm not sure that I even know you, but I know that I loved you fully.

I keep asking myself the same questions over and over with no answers.. Why did you lie to me? What did you lie to me about? I think I know the truth but it's so hard to swallow. The truth I have to believe in order to move on is that you never felt anything for me. Everything was a game to you. You thought you could manipulate me and crush me until I broke, and you did. You broke me so many times. I guess broken things can keep breaking.

The worst part is that I let you do this to me. My self worth has been non existent for so long that I let the most vile, disgusting, sociopath make me fall in love with them, and then let them use and abuse me to their satisfaction. It makes me sick to think about. You've made me sick. You made me anxious. You made me stop eating. You made me sob my heart out like I was fucking dying. Yet you didn't stop. It didn't matter how much pain I was in. That pain is exactly what you wanted me to feel.

It still hurts, but not nearly as much as before. Now that I know what you really are, and what you were doing to me, I can start to heal. Healing hurts though. You know I wanted you to heal. I saw your potential. I believed in you. I believed in your soul. I still want to believe that you can be saved. I want to believe that you aren't completely evil. There must be some part of you, no matter how deep it is buried, that is still good, and that it can be reached. I tried so hard to reach it. I wanted to help you. I wanted to love you and help you heal with me. Together. I wish you had appreciated me for that. I wish you would have had mercy on me. If you weren't capable of loving me, you could have at least stopped hurting me. I don't think I can ever fully understand your desires. I can never relate to wanting to hurt someone for my own satisfaction. I can't. I can't. I won't. I think the reason I can't understand you is because you and I are complete opposites. I'm inherently good, and you're inherently evil. We are the duality of man. I'm Yin and you're Yang. We're supposed to coexist, not destroy each other. I never wanted to destroy you, but you hurt someone you shouldn't have. I was supposed to help you. You chose wrong, both times.

The universe gives and takes. The karma you receive is a direct cause of the pain you've inflicted on others. I'm also receiving my karma, but it's good karma. I am blessed. I am loved. One day I will love myself too. I'm starting to now. I suppose I can thank you for that. I truly understand now that it is never okay to confuse manipulation and abuse with love and affection. I wouldn't have finally figured that out if it weren't for you.

Part of me still wants to reach out to you for the answers. I want to know the truth. But your lips do not know how to speak truth. You speak lies and deceit. You lie so much you believe your own lies. You live in a delusional world you created, where you're on top of everyone else. It's quite sad honestly. I'm sad for me, and I'm sad for you. I'm sad that you might never ask for forgiveness. You need to admit what you've done wrong to yourself and to God. You need to right your wrongs and stop being so fucking vile. I'm not even religious, but I do believe in a higher power. You're foolish not to. In your reality you think you're god. No one compares to you. Foolish. You're going to suffer, and it will be your own fault. It's kind of ironic because that's what you thought about me. I deserved to suffer because I allowed it, it was my fault. Isn't it funny how the tables have turned. You can't get away with being evil. You just can't. It's catching up to you. I don't even need you to tell me that it is for me to know.

It might be for the best that you only know how to lie. If you told me the whole truth, it might just break me again.

I don't love who you are, I loved who I believed you could be. I loved the potential I saw in you. I do still care about you. I don't want to say something cliche like I want you to be happy, it's deeper than that. I want you to find yourself, I want you to fix the part of you that wants to see people suffer. I want you to find joy and happiness in life.

I'm still too kind to you though aren't I. You deserve to suffer the way you pretended that you have. Perhaps you will discover something within that suffering that will help you change.

I am going to heal. I won't ever be alone. No one will ever make me feel as alone as you did ever again. I'm going to be just fine. It will take some time still, but that's okay. That's all part of the healing process. You may think you're wealthy because of the things you have, but I have so much more than you could ever hope for. You're never going to let yourself understand what real love is. That's not for me to worry about anymore though.

[healinghoneybee]

Summer apricots and peaches

Have you ever wanted to craft a beautiful ending? Mold a story into its sad but beautiful hallucination. The periwinkle silvery tinsel castle-great-hall promise it holds. Re-make it into something healing to keep and hold, but it just wouldn’t budge?

I want to honor our time with a caring and considerate departure, but over the course of this little life of mine, since I woke up in a bed with a small stain of blood in my lap, I’ve been wide awake gathering the crumbs of self-respect, and it’s finally added up to enough. Every time I try to ignore the missing recognition of my heart’s losses and let downs, I sense the story’s beauty unfulfilled. In order to make beautiful, please just give me a whisper if you can? Will you read my poem or attend a little ritual of mine, to honor my soul’s capacity for grief and therefore love? It would mean more to me if you came.

I know that I am worth even more than shimmery heartbreak orgasm crying release room moment. I see the magic and I will dance with you and hold your hand if you first whisper to me,

“You can be sad – I know you deserve more than this. I am sorry if I sang the loveliest of songs and put coloured crayon dreams in your precious notebooks that sounded like I will want more of this for some time. More of ants biting beach bums and warm lake swims where I want to stay in for a while. Maybe, I should have told you I might be uncertain and I care about you so I wish you to know the possibility that a man is not his summer song. I wish you to join me and hold these things but only like a summer sunset or starry meteor flash, if that is what you want, too. I don’t want you to give that up (please don’t) but I want to respect that you can. I want you to be free if you know that more bruises will hurt and rot your peach heart just a little too much in the fall. Once I heard about your pretty bruises in a boat left just for us and how you’ve been collecting crumbs to make a crumble, and oh, wow. How I admire that time and space you’ve taken to recover and craft yourself. I want to give you more but I am starting to love your peach heart. So I will apologize if from the beginning I never said, “Careful, darling. I’ll give you what I can and I feel like it’s a lot of love to give but it may fall short of all your capacities. I don’t want your hope to bruise deep in a sudden ladder fall from harvest trees. Please don’t climb too high, love, and take only a basket. Your heights are beautiful and for that reason, I won’t pretend to meet you all the way there. I want you to be brave and enjoy, but don’t forget your homemade crumble that allows you to wait. I know I pull you towards magic but you are also so sweet and full that given the choice, you do not need to open the door to anyone, including me. You say your favourite is ripe apricots like the ones from your grandparents orchards in Stoney Creek. I’m kind of in awe and I kind of don’t believe you. Who doesn’t want to Lady-and-the-Tramp a peach and laugh as the nectar dribbles down our chins and wrists and feeds our stomach gut pals with sweetness? Who can survive off apricots alone, with companions that are kind but don’t set our hearts ablaze? I think you deserve both and all the fruits of your labour. I want that for you, but my darling, maybe not from me or right now. One of these days.”

I’ve been wishing for you to acknowledge my sad silent broken brave hope. Hope for more days of just us and some music and silent tandem reading, more days to hold your curly-haired head in my lap, or walk through old forgotten mountain cities with weed footstep reverberations where I let myself feel the ground so solidly. My body was waking up and I was starting to feel safe and powerful and like a goddess feeling my body reverberations. I think you could not see the possibilities of my grounded awakening. I did not speak it – did you notice? If you looked far enough and see plainly what is in front of you, you could see my awakening born from blood in my lap and summer apricots and peaches and see the gifts that such life mysteries bring. If you truly saw me, you would not think that sharing our paths would stunt your growth and introspection. I bow to introspection, I’ve spent years in it. I believe our lives can be spacious, and you can have your sweet independence and eat your peaches too. I know solidly that it is not possible for me to lose the individuality that I’ve been marinating in and building alone for my whole damn life. I am not stopping you from growth, so tell me the truth. That you just do not love me as much as you painted in your offering of words and plans and songs and intimate nights.

If I can be totally honest, it was only just a handful of years ago that I shared peaches with someone else and we faced each other in a boat because we had to keep admiring each other and then I had a nasty fall. Has your heart ever bruised through your thin and fuzzy and sacred skin? It might be healing if you saw my bruises and showed yours and understood and felt it just for a moment with me. Recently, the person who gave me the blood in my lap sat with me. He read my bruise poems and I felt cared for. I saw the ending I knew we both had the potential for, and we wrapped it with a bow.

You only just laughed and blew me a kiss. I think you might have shed a tear once beside me but I didn’t know if it was for me. I wasn’t ready for it. You deflected and hung it up there, as I was asking you to sit with me in my disappointment and reflect back to me the worth of my peach and apricot crumble. And then my anger grew and baked until it burnt the sweetness I wanted to give to you or keep.

You said you wanted to be my mirror and reflect. In the ending, can you reflect my awakening you were a part of? I’m left with a peach and apricot crumble in the fall and no one to eat it with me. I was left a silent space where I had been carving out room to build our trust. Where I made space to learn and practice and live out and grow my capacity for love and share the rich inner life I’ve built inside. Can you apologize for the songs you sung to coax me higher up the tree and left me for a nasty fall? Even though I agree the songs were nice and you are not bad. I hold it gently now. I am able to bruise like peaches and still be the most fuzzy, juicy, farmers market friendly faces special treat.

I am capable, but I desire more. I want informed consent and choice. I am awake to the pulling reassurances and too-early in its excitement romance plans that tell me to enjoy! trust! open! love! what may only be another sunburn summer love. I want to approach love in my way, that honors my experience. I am relying on myself to recognize the signs when others are not reliable. To make curious space and respect your ways that I cannot love up close, out of respect for myself. And now that I’ve seen it as possible, I trust how it feels right and look for those who are trying to engage with and practice accountability, apology, repair and being with uncomfortable feelings.

Can you acknowledge that you sang a crisp and enticing tune that sounded a little deceiving, a little more than just summer? Can you please whisper sorry and ice my bruisey knees one last time, at least for a moment after the ferry when the larches are out? After I’ve recovered from shock and came down from Slovenian alpine planina villages and “I’ll be okays” to the frigid Canadian winter for which we cannot bypass when our heart has loved as mine does. I am worth a plain conversation after purple alleyway rooms. Read my poem and whisper something to me. And I will wrap this up in lavender tinsel bow and call you my summer peach friend.

[perlelas]

One thing (translation of "Une chose")

The world changes with time. Things evolve over time. It's a natural cycle.

And yet... some things insist on nothing changing, while demanding change.

In 1920, women had a life of submission. We are in 2023, things have changed without having really changed... because some narrow minds still see women as a weaker sex. A tempting sex, an object of desire. An object that society encourages to have a superficial body in order to please to the male gender...

How many of us have suffered from seeing our bodies idealized by society ?

And how many girls, young girls, young women and women have been, and still are, victims ?

Between bodies deemed not quite this, not quite that, "banal", "ugly", "undesirable" or "beautiful", girls are the first victims of these judgments, mockery and violence... And often... from victims, they become aggressors, rather than protectors and guardians of other sensitive girls.

How many young girls commit suicide ?

How many girls, or young girls or young women, or even women don't like to look in the mirror or see themselves in photos ?

Who acts for them ?

I'm one of these women victims...

From my pre-teen years to adulthood, I have been victim of moral and physical violence from my classmates, but also at home.

I was "the fat one", "the good-for-nothing who'll end up a nun" of the house, the "oddity that didn't think, or didn't like, or didn't want, to be like everyone else" at school. I was the one who made no effort to fit in, who didn't dress in the same fashion, who didn't listen to the same popular music.

I was the one to whom the label "scapegoat" had been applied. Then with time, only the label "oddity", then... "object to appropriate before discarding".

I admired these feminists who were fighting for women to stop being seen as mere sex objects, to be proud of their bodies, and to be free.

But with time... I came to realize one thing.

Too many women are still victims of men's violence in their hearts and souls. And most of these women have adopted these men's point of view, whom they hate or despise for many reasons.

These women began to despise, envy and hate free, natural, sensitive women.

From victims, they have become aggressors in the very image of their male aggressors, or even worse than them.

I'm sad and sorry for these women who despise, harass, slander or even aggress other women. That means, from my point of view, that they despise, harass, slander and aggress themselves. As if they hated being women.

I’m sad and sorry for these young girls, young women and women who commit suicide...

Victims of jealousy or other malice on the part of men and women.

Today I see two groups in the world of women and feminists :

The sensitive women's group, who love love, who want peace, understanding, compassion, mutual respect, balance and equity between women and men.

And the one where I see men in women's bodies who are no better than narrow-minded men.

So what do we do ?

Today, the sensitivity of women and men is in difficulty, because even if women are the first victims, men are the second victims of patriarchal dogma.

It's not easy for anyone today, women as men, to look in the mirror, to look at this reflection that is theirs, who faces them. To look at it, with all those violent words, received and accumulated over time in the heart and mind, accompanied by an ego that only confirms the hurtful remarks...

To look it in the depths of eyes, and say to that reflection : I Am Magnificent.

It's not easy for anyone to make peace with oneself. To stop thinking we're useless, that we're worthless, or that we're alone because we annoy everyone.

It's not easy for anyone. Myself who am still broken today, I spend every day repairing myself. This repair isn't as quick and easy as my broken fairy and unicorn figurines. This deep repair takes time and patience. But a long and difficult path to the best and healing is better than the contrary. No ?

We are not and never will be better or worse than others.

We were, we are, and will always remain ourselves deep inside us.

So let's find our “me”, and make peace with ourselves, even if the path is long and difficult.

[withclawsandsympathy]

I feel like as a fandom we don’t delve in to Raphael enough, so I feel like most people who read my fic probably didn’t realize my vague nod to her existence in the chapter I wrote from the Empty’s POV

The other two wasting away in the Empty in my fic are Azazel and Crowley, but those were much more on the nose

[shibainu2006]

I got a fun one!! Leona, Malleus, and Sebek with an extremely clumsy Fem!MC who gets injured constantly! They trip over their own feet, walk into walls, fall down stairs, and fall off the broom during P.E! Anything that CAN injure them WILL injure them!

I-

... The sad thing is... I trip over my own feet like that.... Literally, I struggle to walk properly, but I'm always fuckin sober. 😭

These are gonna be short af...

Leona Kingscholar

You've been forced to sit down the second he sees it happen

You can move around, but bro will worry all day for your safety

He always makes sure to catch you if he's around.

The entirety of Savanaclaw was literally ordered to be around you when they can be, just to keep you safe.

You're his queen

He wants you safe, and unharmed

He'll always be in your gym classes to make sure you don't get hurt too badly

Overall, he knows you're okay, but he's always worrying anyway

He isn't by any means overprotective, but he does let his anxiety for your safety consume him sometimes.

Literally forced you to walk around with a goddamn first aid kit for when you're alone

Malleus Draconia

Child of man... how can you be so clumsy?

He doesn't understand, but every time you get injured, he freaks out and uses healing magic even if it isn't bad

His old heart can't take it....

He insists that you remain seated in one spot.

Gets Silver and Sebek to keep an eye on you when he can't

Don't make the dragon worry

He'll always have a first aid prepared for you

Humans are surprisingly fragile...

Sebek Zigvolt

HUMAN!!

He nearly died inside when you fell off your broom

His soul visibly leaves his body when you get hurt or even fall.

Will literally check your entire body for wounds or broken bones

Sebek is so overwhelming about it sometimes

But he's good for making sure your wounds are treated properly

If he can't watch you, then he insists you stay with someone you can trust until further notice, so he can be assured you're safe