#something something grief and trauma and finally being able to talk about it with someone who will LISTEN

[spxllcxstxr]

Give Me Strength to Stand • M.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Could you do a story where the reader (she/her) is a nurse and is struggling with returning to work in the Pittsburgh after losing their dad suddenly? Hurt and comfort with either Abbot or Robby if possible 💜 -- @rae4725

Summary: With the recent death of your father dominating your thoughts, you find it difficult to think about going into work the next day. You call up Robby to help you through it

Warnings: nurse!reader, fem!reader, death of a father, grief, overwhelming sadness, talk of Adamson's death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 950

A.N: I have never lost a parent, but I tried my best. If you ever need to talk I'm always here for you guys <3 Also first time writing for robby and the pitt (that's why its so short lmao) so let me know if i need to work on anything or something lol

•

Tomorrow was the end of your bereavement leave and the thought of getting out of bed and going to work as if everything was fine petrified you.

You would have to step into the trauma center and focus on saving people--saving other people's fathers so they didn't lose them like you did just a week ago. You would have to give them chest compressions or a blood transfusion and while you should be focused on their care, your mind would wander and you would wonder if you father received the same treatment, states away, and if they did why didn't it work?

Thoughts like these plague you enough that you pull your covers over your head, the sunlight filtering in through your blinds irritating. Your face aches from crying and your throat is raw from sobbing into your pillow. The thought of returning to work and seeing sons and daughters go through the exact same thing difficult to swallow.

It was hard before his accident, you know this, because you always imagined the father lying in Trauma 1 with their child holding his hand while pleading for them to wake up was you. But now it really was. Tomorrow when you brought a kid to their dying dad you would now see yourself, ragged and exhausted and racked with despair.

Your back aches from laying in your bed.

Your phone dings with a text from Dana, telling you that you could take another day off if you felt you needed it. All week your coworkers had sent you heartfelt messages that made the whole process just a little bit more bearable. Your fingers hover over the keyboard to reply to Dana. Of course you wanted more time; going back to normal felt like an insult to your father's memory and simply dragging yourself there seemed like an impossible task.

But something stopped you from simply taking her up on the offer.

Instead, you text Robby to meet you at your apartment after his shift. He was your mentor, your friend, and most of all, the man you trusted with your life. Having lost someone akin to a parent, you knew he could tell you what to do.

He replies moments later, assuring you he'd be there when he's able to, and it all feels a little less scary knowing that.

Robby comes late in the night, bags under his eyes and short hair resting in chaos. His sad deep brown eyes track your movements as you let him inside and offer him tea. You can feel his gaze on the back of your neck and you shiver when his hands accompany them on your skin. His soft touches contrasted with his bone crushing hugs comfort you in a way the countless amount of sympathies from relatives and friends haven't.

On your couch, his hands clasp on of yours, thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"How did you do it?" You finally ask, voice cracking after not being used in days. You must sound so fragile because he frowns. "How did you just get back up and start another day after Adamson's death?"

He heaves out a sigh at the mention of his mentor. "It was hard," He states, nodding almost to himself. "So excruciatingly hard, like the world just crumbled beneath my feet and I somehow had to just keep walking like nothing was wrong."

Robby swallows roughly, thinking of his next words carefully. You bump his knee with your own, reminding him that you're still there with him. "But I knew I had to get up and continue on."

"I just...I just know I'm gonna have to save someone's father or watch someone's father die...and I just don't know how I can do that anymore without seeing him." You admit, looking past his shoulder to the yellow light of your lamp, hoping your tears would fade.

"The more you sit here and think about your father's passing, the tougher it will be to get up and resume your life." Robby shrugs. "It's a bitch, but it's true. You can't let the grief eat you alive, your father wouldn't want that."

Bottom lip wobbling, your eyes find Robby's. While your vision is blurry with tears, you can still see that his are as well.

"It's been well over a year since my mentor died but...but I know that if I stop for even a moment to lay down, I know my grief would consume me to the point of no return. He wanted me to be a great doctor and goddamn it, I'll be a great doctor for me, my patients, and for him." Robby huffs out a rough laugh. "Wherever he is, I'll make sure he knows he taught me well." His own smile is tight, red dusting around his eyes.

"You think I can do it?" You ask after a beat.

"Kid, I know you can do it. And you won't have to do it alone, either." Bowing his head, he searches for your eyes once again. "It gets easier, it really does, the grief you'll hold onto for the rest of your life will be a reminder of all the love you had for him and all the love he had for you. You just have to hold onto it and not let it consume you, ok?"

You take a deep and shuddering breath and nod. "Ok." Squeezing your eyes shut you lean into your attending and he wraps his arms around you once again. "Thank you, Robby." You whisper into his jacket.

"Any time, kid." He replies softly into the top of your head, lips grazing your hair. "We've got you."

•

[hey-hey-j]

lore dropping

(★ my Kofi)

[plushieni]

i know ill find you one day ♡⸝. t. todoroki

based off of this song

touya todoroki, your beloved childhood best friend, had passed away when you were just eleven. or at least, that’s what you were told. when the incident happened,, when he was assumed dead — you were devastated. he wasn’t just your best friend; he was your partner in crime, your safe place, and most importantly, your first love.

his loss changed everything. in the aftermath, you grew closer to the todoroki family. his mother welcomed you with open arms, holding you through nights when grief crawled into your chest and made it hard to breathe. she understood your pain in a way no one else could. you missed him deeply.

when you and touya first met, he’d confided in you, shared things he hadn’t even told his siblings. the bond had been instant — two broken kids finding comfort in each other’s company. you tried your best to understand the pain his father put him through, even if it was too big for either of you to make sense of. you made it your mission to bring joy into his life, even if just in little pieces. you wanted to remind him what being a kid was supposed to feel like.

but looking back, you both were doomed from the start.

so when it was reported that dabi — the infamous member of the league of villains — was actually touya todoroki... your touya todoroki… the world around you tilted.

you cried. a lot.

some tears were born from grief, others from joy, and many from sheer disbelief. it felt unreal, like someone had ripped open a wound you’d spent years trying to stitch shut.

anxiety coursed through your veins.

was it really him? was he still the same boy you had loved? did he even remember you? what if he was nothing like the touya you knew?

those thoughts haunted you for weeks. it wasn’t until recently that you learned he’d been placed in a rehab facility — something about endeavor pulling strings to lessen his punishment. trying to save his appearance.

truthfully, touya had never stopped thinking about you either. through the years, your memory followed him like a ghost. sometimes soft. sometimes aching. but always there.

he wondered about you often.

did you hate him? had you moved on? what if you didn’t recognize him — what if all you saw now was the monster he became?

but the moment he was cleared and able to return home, the first thing he asked about was you.

when you got the news he was home, you waited. longer than you wanted to. fear kept you stuck in place. anticipation and doubt battled inside your chest every time you thought about seeing him again.

when you finally did, it was nothing short of bittersweet.

his eyes met yours, and they still held that same quiet intensity—the same storm you used to see in them as kids. you ran to him before your mind could catch up, and he immediately melted into you, arms wrapping around your frame like he needed to make sure you were real.

he whispered over and over, “m’ sorry,” and “missed you s’ much,” voice cracking with every word.

it didn’t feel real. and yet, it felt like coming home.

the two of you talked for hours, and it was like no time had passed at all.

of course, the elephant in the room remained — he had become a villain. he had done things you couldn’t ignore. and he feared you'd look at him differently, that you'd be repulsed. but you couldn’t hate him. not even if you tried.

you weren’t going to pretend nothing had happened, but you also weren’t going to hold his past against him. you knew his trauma ran deep, that the pain that turned him into dabi was never his fault to begin with.

all you wanted now was to show him he was still the boy you loved.

you started coming around every day. on some nights, you stayed over — afraid that if you left, you might lose him all over again. he was still hesitant, still unable to believe someone could love him after everything.

but you were patient.

because underneath the pain, the scars, the fire and ash, he was still touya. still your touya.

one night, as you laid beside him, tracing the burns on his arm with the tips of your fingers, he whispered something so soft you almost missed it.

“when i left... i didn’t know where i was going. i didn’t know who i was gonna become. but even back then... i told myself, i know i’ll find you one day. and here you are.”

you blinked back tears and pressed your forehead to his —looking at him like he never stopped being yours.

it wasn’t perfect. there were still doubts. still moments of silence that stretched too long. still nightmares he didn’t talk about and questions you didn’t always ask.

but now that you finally made your way back to each other, you both knew — you were going to be okay.

more of my works here

© plushieni do not copy, steal, translate, repost any of my works

[needtobehisprettyboy]

I hate the CaitVi Sex scene

Everytime I see someone thirsting after the scene and gushing about how it's so hot, I feel so disgusted and ticked cause of how the scene came about and where it's located.

Before we get onto my rant about the scene itself, I want to mention the CaitVi scene that happened before that.

"She saved your life!"

"If you will just calm down for on-"

If you will just calm down for once? Hypocrite. Caitlyn's allowed to be pissy, allowed to call Zaunites animals (oh, "except" Vi though) and then fight like an animal by biting Sevika—

Sidenote:

That's also another scene I don't find hot at all. Any time I see it, I can't focus on how attractive Sevika is when she's smug (even though she totes is). All I can focus on is how Caitlyn bit Sevika. I don't remember who pointed it out, if it was on Tumblr or TikTok which I have promptly deleted since the ban, but someone pointed out that Caitlyn is fighting dirty—like a Zaunite. Caitlyn was backed into a corner, so she fought like an animal.

Fuck her.

I guess now she can somewhat understand why Zaunites fight the way they do. When you're backed into a corner, feeling helpless, feeling desperate, you fight like it and she did the same exact same thing she judged them for.

Bastard.

Lol can you tell I'm feeling bitter over her character?

Back to OG rant

—biting Sevika, gas the undercity and harshly interrogate someone who was a victim of Jinx's shenanigans, hit Vi for trying to calm her down from her grief driven rage, but oh, no Vi must calm down even though she's barely angry compared to when Caitlyn's angry. Not to mention that Caitlyn throws a tantrum herself and throws the tiny figure in her hand to the ground.

"—since you don't trust her enough not to shove her in a box."

Can we please take note of the tremble in Vi's voice when she says that? 'Oh, Jinx brought back her trauma from being in Stillwater!1!2!1' First of all, shut up. Second of all, yeah. . . So did Caitlyn?? Caitlyn may not have known what to do with Jinx, but the option for her to let Jinx go to prison was there and Vi hated it.

"Cait, she's changed."

"We can't erase our mistakes. None of us."

All the while not doing any time of her own for the crimes she committed—and no, I'm not talking about her gassing the undercity. What she did as a dictator, letting Noxians take over, and hardly doing anything afterwards even though she caused so much pain and misery to both Piltovians and Zaunites goes unpunished. Her losing an eye is nothing compared to the fear many people will feel while living under a dictatorship.

Get the guillotine!!

"Who decides who gets a second chance?"

Exactly. Caitlyn did no better than Jinx. She knows it too. It tears her up inside—as it should!!! Besides, did she think Jinx wasn't going to eventually get out of Stillwater? Or was one of her options to let Jinx rot there until she died? Yeah, I'm sure your girlfriend would love that.

Now, let's get to the scene itself!

But first let me talk about what happened right before that—

Vi tries to get Jinx on her side, Jinx rejects her, and Vi watches her sister leave while being told by her that Vi "deserves to be happy" and not to "worry about her anymore".

Yikes.

People say that what happened next with Caitlyn was Vi "finally being selfish", but it just feels wrong to me. Don't get me wrong, Vi deserves to enjoy herself after everything that's been done to her; however, you aren't going to have normal, healthy, healing sex right after seeing a loved one leave you for good.

Trust me lol I've had enough grieving/traumatic experience to know that you can feel upset for hours and won't immediately be able to get into a happy mindset even if you find something to entertain yourself with. You can have people try to cheer you up and you feel a bit better, but you still feel that lingering horrible feeling inside that will eat at you for who knows how long. You could give me Steb wearing the cutest little red panties I have ever seen in my life and I'd still be sad while trying to eat him out. You need to give me that like a day or so AFTER my little breakdown cause I won't enjoy it right after crying about losing my sis.

Sidenote:

Someone please remind me to draw that.

It would take at least an hour for Vi to get back to normal with the way she was reacting. At least. Vi was in that cell for who knows how long, but she was still upset and rather vulnerable when Caitlyn found her. No doubt she needed more time to get herself together.

Okay, now, let's get to the scene itself!!!

Bro, don't fuck me while I'm crying unless I'm crying cause I'm laughing too hard or because of sexy overstimulation. Fuck me? Nah, fuck you.

"I choose wrong every time—and because of it. . . I've lost everyone."

"Did you really think I needed all the guards at the HexGates?"

SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT AWWWWWUUUPPPPPPP—anyway,

Your girl is clearly upset, grieving her lost relationship with her sister (and likely other loved ones shes lost like Vander/Warwick), feeling guilty, and clearly not in any type of good mood yet your first reaction is to smirk???? You think this is funny?? Now is not the time to tease, Ms. Dumbass.

Vi needs compassion and reassurance not. . . Whatever that was. Yes, showing that you knew all along and didn't do anything to stop her shows that you do care for her, but it also isn't what she needs. Caitlyn did not reassure her that Vi wasn't going to lose her so easily.

Mainly because if she did, that'd be a lie, but that's neither here nor there.

"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable."

Girl, you are not sorry. Quit lying. I can smell the smoke coming off your pants, but I'm not getting the fire extinguisher.

Again, this isn't what Vi needs. Any therapist would be able to tell you that you should seek healthier coping mechanisms other than sex. Does cuddling not exist? Does making out and then putting a stop to it because you realize your girl is not in the right state of mind for this exist??? Seeking sex after feeling so vulnerable and horrible about yourself is in no way, shape, or form okay. Shit isn't cute.

Caitlyn, you are more of an animal than you realize.

"Listen! While you were gone, I. . . Saw someone."

All of a sudden you realize that you should stop things because you feel guilty, but that guilt isn't over letting your girl go down on you after being upset and grieving, but about. . . Having another girl while she was gone???? Girl, seriously, your priorities are wack.

She does hesitate for a moment once she sees VI's injury (I can't remember where the injury came from. I stg if it came from Caitlyn or whatever Caitlyn ordered her to do. . .) yet she continues on. There are multiple reasons why they shouldn't do it right then and there, but Caitlyn is so horny she lets Vi pleasure her.

The reasons:

1. Vi is not in the right place of mind, she just lost her sister. Please let her grieve.

2. That is a jail cell. After what happened to her, their first time should be somewhere comfortable. Vi deserves comfort. She deserves to be spoiled. You're in Piltover, Caitlyn has a mansion with a really good bed, but your first fuck is in a dirty jail cell??

3. That is a jail cell that contained her sister. Vi can't reclaim shit about having sex in a jail cell if it's a cell that contained her sister. If there was better writing, she'd feel guilty over having sex in the cell she lost her sister. Her guilt isn't going to immediately go away because of one fuck. That's not how it works. Wish it was, but it's not.

Can I also note that Vi is the one pleasuring Caitlyn and not the other way around? Maybe Vi prefers to eat out rather than be eaten, but I think it just speaks more to her always servicing others rather than servicing herself or being serviced. If the sex scene was gonna happen, at least show Vi being completely selfish and enjoying herself by showing Cait be the one to kiss her down to her coochie. Maybe she's a stone top, but she gives off switch vibes to me.

Fuck you, Cait. Always wanting things to benefit you.

(If it was me, I'd eat Vi out, but, again, that's neither here nor there. . . She's not even in my top favs. I just want the best for her cause I hate Caitlyn lol.)

"I'm feeling fantastic."

FUCK YOUUUU

Okay *drops mic* , rant over

[pzychojinx]

so, jinx in act one of season two. see, for three years i expected a full on descent into chaos and madness beyond any repair. i'd made peace with that, too. so i'm surprised - pleasantly, joyfully surprised.

very long analysis ahead on where they're taking her and how it speaks to me.

we first meet her again during silco's eulogy sequence - a beautiful sequence, halfway between dreamlike and real. "just like when vander shoved off", she says about his death. except it's not. after vander's death, after vi's perceived abandonment, everything jinx could feel was self-centered. she would say "she's not my sister anymore". she would devalue these people entirely. in fact, every single reaction to any action done by her loved ones would be self-centered and extreme. that is very much how her mental process works, how her trauma caused her to work. and more so: when silco would ask of her any work, any mission, she'd do the job purely for his sake, his affection, his approval, never caring about the cause.

in short, she was never able to get out of her own head for as much as a single minute. now, she starts the funeral off with "chembarons warring for control of the lanes. wannabe street thugs squabbling over scraps. just like when vander shoved off." and it's not about her abandonment anymore. it's not about being left alone. it's not about her. she's talking to silco about his city, his legacy, his world, his chembarons, his lanes. she's out of her own head, and it's the first time we ever see it.

"because someone put all those holes in you", she says then. and this is so interesting because there's obviously a dissociation here, as well as a very intense grief and sadness. we are obviously still dealing with someone who's deeply traumatized and unstable, but let's compare this with powder after the deaths of vander, mylo and claggor. powder had a full breakdown, both turned into a complete de-evaluation of vi as i was mentioning earlier and full desperation. "i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help".

this chaotic desperation is something jinx kept within herself throughout the entirety of s1 up until - the tea party. which i'm getting at, in a minute. point being, for now, that the jinx we see during silco's eulogy is grieving and lost and rootless and asking herself "what am i supposed to do with that?", but she lacks the chaotic full-on desperation that would lead her to acts of explosive destruction and/or self-destruction in s1. in fact, she's incredibly quieter. she's more grounded, more present in her movements, in the way she fights, in the way she talks.

in retrospect even her final action in s1, the infamous missile, already had the energy we're seeing now. it wasn't instinctive, driven by hallucinations or trauma or rage or an unrestrained trigger; it was silco's legacy and it was calculated. silco's death, i think now, left jinx as rootless as she's ever been, but it also left her with an acceptance of who she is. "don't cry, you're perfect". the tea party ends with her 'choosing' jinx and if you'd asked me before season two, i would have said with full certainty it meant she'd be going to be a loose cannon. entirely and with no possibility of ever being anything else. that's not what i think now.

i think she came to terms with who she is. i think now that the seat at the tea party wasn't a symbol of complete derailing, it was in a way a symbol of acceptance. "here's to the new us". she's fought her fight between powder and jinx and the tea party has permitted her to gain, in some way, a sense of closure. very importantly, having lost what she perceived as vi's acceptance, and having lost a father, she has also been able to shed the constant and desperate need to be in their favor.

during the 'sucker' sequence, we see her going through the lanes with a hood on her hair, very low-key. loose cannon jinx would have never, ever done that. loose cannon jinx would, quite simply, not have cared. she would have been extra, and explosive, and in everyone's faces. she's preserving herself not to be found, and that's new. again, i think she's still lost and rootless and grieving and really asking herself what she's supposed to do now that she's entirely autonomous and i also think there's definitely still a lot of bitterness and rage when it comes to vi which we obviously get to see during their fight and in no way is she magically ~healthy or anything like that - however.

she is still walking those streets in a way that indicates self-preservation. it would have been very, very easy for jinx to be captured by any of those goons and/or got herself killed. and for some reason, whether that be an apathetic, mourning state or mind, or whether that be some gained peace in who she is, or both - she didn't.

given all this, the new element that season two act one has introduced for her that truly moved me and made me feel... healed in a sort of way, is the introduction of human bonds for jinx that defy her historical, co-dependent mechanism of idolization and de-evaluation. ergo, sevika and isha. this is incredible for her and most of all, it's realistic. it's a chance at something, but it doesn't feel forced, nor fairytale-esque, nor does it resemble your usual ~redemption arc.

sevika and isha function as people who she's building some bond with, and since she's a little bit less in her own fucking head, and since she's not clinging to them as idealized protectors / saviours and neither is she refusing them as betrayers, and since she's not constantly fighting between what she perceives as her double identity anymore, she finally has the possibility to experience healthier bonds. sevika functions as somebody who still ties her to silco, possibly the closest thing she has right now to any root she might have left, and it works: reminiscing silco with her, gifting her the arm, doesn't leave her utterly alone but neither does it let her fall into the trap of clinging onto yet another figure from whom to fully depend.

and isha, very obviously, functions as the possibility of healing her inner child which is a goldmine for her storyline. her bond with isha could clearly have a narrative tie to jinx & silco, to jinx & vi, and most importantly to jinx and powder herself - this is all quite obvious but again, it's not executed in a way that feels like a forced 'redemption arc' or whatnot. the idea of this little street kid who just imprints on her like a lost little duckling, which is in no way jinx's decision, simply feels natural and heartwarming. does this mean i presume such healing of her inner child is going to come easy to her? no. but it's something. it's something very different from anything she's ever experienced before.

even through the loss, the rootlessness, the grief and confusion, the panic attack we see her experiencing through the lanes as a consequence of the moment she sees vi and caitlyn's enforcer squad, even through the brutality of the fight with vi, - and this is all to say, she's still a very traumatized individual, which is important because it would have just been senseless to have jinx somehow get fully stable like a switch had been flipped - we're seeing something new for jinx here. i've seen many posts related to "i'm glad it's you", and i might be unpopular here but while i do think jinx still has an element of suicidality, i also think she was at least half bluffing there. comparing her micro-expressions with the ones back on the bridge fight with ekko, i'm under the impression she was testing vi, at the very least partially. "poisoning us with gas?" is also an interesting line because even in her attack at her sister, she's less focused on her own trauma and more on something that we've hardly seen from her before - belonging to the lanes.

all of this to say, i'm loving the path they're taking for her. it's still very much jinx. it feels like jinx. but she's not just about to wreak senseless and desperate havoc in order to be seen by either her sister or her father, because there's no one to be seen by anymore. she's not fighting a desperate battle between her identities either, because she's accepted her place. she's not loud and erratic, she's quieter and coming to terms with herself. closure is truly the word that comes to mind, for me, in how i see her arc right now. closure, and unexpectedly, possibility.

[angelflms]

oh boy. guess i have something to say about CK after all. get ready. it's gonna be a fucking doozy because ima bout to piss off so many people.

yall cared wayyyy too much about robby (this is coming from a robby lover).

for a cheesy, straightforward show, some of y'all didn't understand its tropes at all. or at least what it was trying to tell you, especially when it comes to the roles miguel and robby are supposed to be in.

miguel has been and always will be the show's karate kid. he was supposed to be the daniel of the story, hell even GQ just said it in an article about the show recently. robby was always supposed to be a johnny-like foil to miguel. the thing is that the show tries to bamboozle you into thinking otherwise because of who's training them, how they're trained, and how they act because of the type of training they're initially recieved.

yes, miguel acts very similar to johnny in the show. yes most of the og TKK call backs they make with him are in relation to johnny, but he is the underdog character. you know how everyone expected johnny to win in TKK because he was a fucking champ and such. it's almost like how we as an audience for awhile assume that robby is gonna be the final end all champ of the series. but just like with johnny, we're proven wrong. it's just that the bullet was in a different gun this time. it's the one in the ck gi who won this time.

idk why people get so mad over miguel's victories when it was always supposed to be him that was gonna win. the show is called cobra kai for a reason, therefore, the final winner of the show is gonna be someone from that dojo. it only makes sense. and since the main karate kid that started off the show was a ck member originally, surprise! he's gonna be the final victor of the show.

---

now im seeing a lot of hatred towards johnny's character, again because of robby. now yes, johnny was a fucking horrible dad. and as a girl who's bio dad is a piece of shit like johnny was and has never been in my life (even started a business similar in the world as johnny's), i understand robby's dad pain a lot, even more so than miguel's.

but what you don't understand is that cobra kai is a show about generational pain. generational trauma. generational grief. generational hurt. the whole story revolves around pain that started 30 years prior (even further if you bring up kreese). the show also is about breaking the cycle once brought upon you to better the future for those who look up to you.

johnny is close to miguel because he was his second chance at being a better father figure to him. he didn't expect that he would get robby back in his life the way he did (robby literally told him to rightfully stay away) so he focused heavily on miguel and his family. now once he and robby reconciled, it was a huge breaking the circle moment because johnny lawrence is a victim of physical and verbal child abuse from both his step-dad, sid and his father figure, kreese. kreese was to johnny what he is to robby, but less abusive. and robby was to kenny what johnny was to him, but robby eventually broke the cycle, something that johnny was able to eventually do himself.

that emotional scene between johnny and kreese wasn't just emotional but kreese's final moment of realization that he was a horrible man and father figure to johnny. he hurt him so bad that he couldn't be a normal human being, which in turn caused him to be an absentee parent to robby. not saying that it's okay but it's understandable. not getting that johnny is a broken person just ruins the whole point of the show's point of generational pain, something the show is nearly spoon feeding the audience to.

yes johnny is horrible as a father, but damn it the man didn't have a father figure as a model. all of his figures were abusive, absentee drunks who never saw his potential. that was a norm for him.

---

ive said many times that y'all talk wayyyyy too much shit about miguel for no reason. and the way this season ended and how much y'all are upset, im starting to look at a lot of you in a side-eyed way. like his character arc is poorly written but that's not his fault. the writers hate him i feel. look i love robby and i hated the way he went out but at the end of the day, you need to understand that he wasn't gonna be the final guy. maybe i think too much in terms of the nuances of shows but i'd like to think this was the most straightforward show about fighting out there. like there wasn't much of a hidden message as they told you what they were. maybe yall are too lost in the fact that y'all care so much about robby that you don't care. maybe im missing something as i have only been in the fandom for over a year. or maybe y'all just subconsciously racist atp because the hatred miguel and xolo get for no reason is beyond me.

but i will give everyone this: the show's writing sucks.

they didn't know how to write certain characters and i feel like it was due to wanting to please everyone because i remember the death threats this fandom threw towards so many people during the lockdown days. but the show genuinely can go past surface level shit and it sucks. i wrote a whole thing dedicated to how miguel's storyline should've went post-coma because honestly they fucked his character up BIG time. but at the end of the day, i do think, even with good writing, he deserved that ending. i just wished everyone else agreed.

[bullet-prooflove]

Blood: Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @whateversomethingbruh @district447 @stelacole @gatefleet

Companion piece to:

Casanova - You recieve an unwanted gift.

Promises - Nick makes you a promise.

Dry Land - Nick returns home.

A Little Naughty, A Little Nice - Casanova reflects on your relationship.

Safehouse - You and Nick spend a little time together in the safehouse whilst your stalker remains at large.

The Great Seducer - You finally meet the great seducer.

You’re still covered in blood when they find you, still wearing a robe that hangs open revealing all of you, your wrists still bound together. The body of the deputy director lies on the floor in a pool of dark liquid, brain matter and skull fragments as the stench of vomit permeates the room. Nick hurtles towards you but Parker is there, palm on his chest, forcing him back because the death it elevates things, takes it out of NCIS’s hands.

“Get her a lawyer.” Parker says forcefully, shoving Nick out of the room while Lisa takes control of the crime scene. “Make sure it’s someone you can trust.”

Despite the horror he’s just stepped into Nick understands the gravity of the situation. LaRoche had personal connections in the DOJ, people who helped put him in that position over McGee. They’re going to do the best they can to cover their asses, which means covering LaRoche’s ass postmortem and the best way to do that is by throwing you under the bus.

He calls Savannah’s husband Harmon Rabb from outside the apartment, arranging for the other man to meet them at NCIS HQ. It’s as he hangs up the phone that the elevator doors open, revealing the DOJ investigators. His heart stops because he knows exactly which way this going to go, he can see it already in their grim expressions.

The whole thing goes off the rails when they handcuff you. The entire time they’ve been here you’ve barely reacted to their presence. You’ve sat quietly as Jimmy saw to your injuries, allowed Lisa to help you change. It’s like your soul, the essence of you has completely left the building.

However the moment they slap that steel cuff on your wrist, something inside you snaps and the trauma of what happened to you rushes to surface. You fight, you scream and when they physically restrain you, you beg and Nick, he can’t fucking stand it. He ends up being arrested for assault because no one get to lay hands on you like that, he doesn’t give a shit if they are DOJ. When he’s forced down on the floor beside you, his own hands wrenched behind his back, he looks into your eyes still glistening with tears.

“It’s gonna be ok Harper.” He tries to reassure you. “I’m right here-”

He’s hauled to his feet then, sequestered to another room and you’re alone, the fight dying inside you with every minute that ticks by.

It’s three hours later that Vance is finally able to arrange his release from the holding area, he begs the other man for news on you but is forced to wait until they’re inside the director’s office so they can talk privately.

“They’re trying to say it was a sex game gone wrong.” He’s informed by Parker who’s waiting inside. “That they were having an affair and she killed him because he threatened to tell you. Did you know about their relationship?”

“There was no relationship!” Nick spits, pacing the length of the room. “They were in grief counselling together, they got coffee afterwards, that is it! Harper wasn’t cheating on me, she wasn’t screwing him behind my back. She was terrified when she got those gifts, she reported them. That isn’t the behaviour of someone who-”

“Nick, we know.” Vance says holding up his hand to silence him. “We just wanted to make sure we had all our ducks in a row before we present our own case to the Attorney General. She’s waiting in MTAC right now with Harmon Rabb and the prosecutor for the DOJ. She’s going to decide whether they’re moving forward with the charges.”

“I should be there, or I should be with Harper. Can I see her-”

Vance shakes his head.

“Until this is over, we need you to stay right here.” The director tells him as he heads towards the door to attend the meeting. “We don’t need this turning into a bigger mess than it already is.”

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[starwilliams]

my opinion on the portrayal of the PTSD representation in tlou- as someone who is diagnosed with ptsd.

trigger warning: ptsd, talks of mental health and traumatic events.

i personally think TLOU did a really good job with this. specifically what we would call a ‘ptsd attack’ during the farm.

some triggers can involve loud noises or sudden crashes (like the shovel and barn door) and in my experience, i am transported back to the traumatic experience like it is real. and im living it again, even with some details changing, like how ellie invisioned joel calling out for her, which did not really happen.

i also know there is a scene in the remastered with a boar i believe, and ellie is crawling through a tunnel and sees a skull or something and sees joel? (DO NOTTT quote me on this, as i genuinely am not sure.) but that is also realistic. my trauma involved a corpse of someone i love, and that image can pop up at any time, and it is scary!

i know many people view these scenes as things to make the game more emotional, and even scary. but these things. (even if exaggerated in game) are infact real.

again, yes. i think everybody in the tlou universe no question has trauma of their own. but pstd is different, and shows clearly in ellie. especially during seattle and afterwards.

ellie faced trauma all her life, and losing the man who helped her look past her trauma, was the biggest trauma of all, and she had nobody to stop her.

this theatre scene.

ellie shows vulnerability to dina for the first time since leaving for seattle, dina was ellie’s only real ‘clutch’ at this point. and learning of dina’s pregnancy and jesse’s arrival, wondering if maybe they will be back together, or even head back to jackson with eachother.

everything was so uncertain, ellie thought all she had to do was get revenge and take down all who were present at joel’s murder, but she began to realise it was no longer that easy.

ellie realises how far she’s gone, with torturing nora. and even seems to get maybe nauseous thinking about it? (in left pic, idk. my interpretation.) like how in the first game, ellie exclaims she feels sick after shooting a man.

being unable to draw/do justice to joel’s eyes.

there’s many different interpretations as to why ellie crossed out joel’s eyes, and tried them over and over again.

perhaps she felt she couldn’t get them right?

couldn’t do justice?

or perhaps she couldn’t look at his face, features and all without remembering it being bloodied and battered.

i still struggle to remember my loved ones face after seeing their corpse, and it took a while for the grief and trauma to heal until i remembered them in other ways too.

ellie leaving the place we would deem most peaceful.

even after some form of healing and time, ellie still struggled dearly at the farm. and once tommy had come back to remind her ‘her job was not over’ she felt guilty for feeling even a tinge of contentment in life, without getting joel justice.

het wearing and smelling joel’s jacket, wearing it as she leaves, ready to go on a suicide mission, that would either bring joel justice, or get killed along the way, which maybe she wouldn’t mind so much.

she left her home and family in hopes the voices and memories in her head would finally go quiet.

maybe she resented herself for not being able to move on, like she imagined dina was.

ellie also wrote in her notebook about a noose.

ellie’s acceptance.

as we all saw, ellie knew not to even hope for dina or jj at the house (maybe they reunited before this, maybe not. but this applies either way), she left joel’s guitar behind. she had realised at the beach trauma won’t heal from violence, and chasing after a cure.

sometimes even the happy memories have to be left in the past.

um guys i hope this is okay! likes and reblogs ect would be so appreciated! i wish i mentioned more of ellie’s trauma from p1, maybe another day :)

[xshingie]

More Richter/Annette rambling as I work through my writing process, because what else am I doing here really

Sobs I received my first in-depth comment on my Richette oneshot where someone FINALLY noticed all the love and labor I poured into depicting the multiple dimensions of Annette. At the time, it was important to me that depict Annette as flawed (and that Richter loved her anyway!).

It makes me really sad when I see people so openly talk and joke about how they didn’t care for Richter/Annette in S1, but of course my brain had to completely hyperfixate on Annette back then. I loved her grief, her anger, her shortsightedness and her eventual soft side -- all these parts are equally valid parts of her and I loved how much the show gave her space to express it unapologetically. Something about her character journey to not see beyond black-and-white judgments, to grow her perception of the world through a more nuanced lens, to question and look deeper within herself instead of just being fueled on on her anger-driven trauma, to be kinder to herself and others, to learn to listen to understand holistically -- there were so many elements that captivated me back then to write for Annette and she lived so vibrantly in my brain... and I wonder when I will be able to move on, because everybody else will quickly move on and I will be in the same place as I was Fall 2024, with Richter, Annette, and Edouard so vividly continuing to occupy my brain .-.

I was venting to a fandom friend in DM about how fucking embarrassing to hyperfixate on unpopular side characters like Annette and Edouard. And coming to terms of swallowing the bitter reality that the reasons why I continue to write for Richter/Annette aren’t things anyone want to read about. Ultimately, I just gotta own up to what I’m hyperfixating on and write for myself.

As I study Vodouism further to analyze what elements did or didn’t make into the show (esp. any inaccuracies), I realized how much of Annette’s journey in S1 and S2 is a visual metaphor of going deeper into the ounsi initiation process (receiving a potèt from Ogou which is likely her Met Tet, being guided by Met Kalfou rather than just Papa Legba, becoming a chwal for Sekhmet, home being synonymous with interconnected). Despite its limited depictions or any inaccuracies, at the heart of it the show captures the “spirit” or thematic element. Noticing especially where they look creative liberties informs potential approaches that I could take.

My latest Richter/Annette (written before S2) oneshot reflects my first attempt to incorporate Haitian Vodou philosophy and wisdom, although I did creative liberties. In my last post (“Vodou in Haiti: Way of Life and Mode of Survival”) I explored how Cecile’s message to Annette in S1 hits on the fundamental tenets of Vodou philosophy and wisdom.

Remember, Annette -- no matter where you are, as long as you allow yourself to feel, to listen - you will be able to feel the Iwa that connects us all. Whether the stirrings of a single blade of grass in the wind, the breath of an animal taking its last, or the rumblings of the soil beneath you. Even the whisperings from the ones you love, when they are no longer with you. All around, everywhere, within you; it is here, and it will be over there. The threads that connect us all, no matter how big a beast or small of a drop of rain; these are the connections, the connections that transcend beyond the realm of our earth. 

This excerpt written by me is a condensed phrasing from Michel’s paper on Vodou being interconnected, spinning some creative liberties. I’m really proud of myself of how I was able to end the oneshot. It ends with Annette allowing herself a peace of mind that she couldn’t before in Richter’s presence, therefore wholly integrating for the first time, what Cecile was trying to tell her.

And so Annette closed her eyes, and allowed herself to listen, to feel. To listen to his comforting, soft breaths as he slumbered beside her. To feel the adumbrations from her own heart as she recalled the image of Richter’s eyes -- that moment when that icy blue frost began to taper against the shuttering of his eyelids when he had looked at her, just right before he finally closed them. 

Something I’ve thought about a lot, especially as I work through my existing WIP is how Richter can inspire Annette’s character growth or why she might be drawn to him. And in completing this oneshot, I think I answered my own question. That sometimes, it’s a matter of the right person, the right time, at that certain phase in your life of learning the lesson you need to. It really is that simple, really.

[liobi]

more writing for @thedeerus's Time is Running Out au, this time with somehow way more grief and trauma

title; Reversal (1/3), a future I don't want

[???]

Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was wrong. You couldn’t move, it was hard to breathe, and crisscrossed lines of pressure and pain held you against the bed. On top of that, someone was sitting on you. Kafka was there, you didn’t even need to see her to know. When you did finally open your eyes you saw her golden gaze look down on you impassively, an empty sardonic smirk adorning her beautiful features. You hadn’t seen her in months. It was so good to see her again. 

“Kaf-” you tried to speak but with a twitch of her fingers, the wire around your neck tightened and you choked on the rest of your words. Why was she doing this? Why wasn’t she helping you escape?

“Why did you kill me, Stelle?” Her golden gaze met your own. Why would she say that to you? She was right here, what was she talking about? “That job wasn’t supposed to go down like that, remember? But you lost the Stellaron just like you lost your brother, and then I and everyone else died just like *******. That was your fault. You messed up so badly there’s nothing left of us to bury, and what’s worse you don’t even remember.”

You watched in horror as she began to dissolve right in front of your eyes, like she was being flensed by some invisible force. The pressure on your neck was too much, your vision swam and darkened. “Everything you touch dies, just like your ******.” 

-

Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was wrong. You couldn’t move, like you had been dipped in a pool of molten glass and it had hardened around you, anchoring you to the bed. Time around your body was frozen. Caelus was there. You two had pulled this stupid prank on each other so much growing up, but you had always been able to break free. But not this time.

His golden eyes took in the pathetic sight of you and he just sighed, disappointed. “You’ve gone too far off course and you’ll never find me now. The future I went to ceased to exist because my big sister couldn’t follow the script a talking cat made for her. Thanks for looking out for me, I’m sure ****** and ******* are reeeeeeeally proud of you.”

“I didn’t- I’m not-”

“You’re so obsessed with the past, a past you don’t even know how much you remember, that you can’t see what’s in front of you. When you were with me, all you thought about were the years we couldn’t remember. When you were with the Stellaron Hunters, you couldn’t stop thinking about me. Now with your new family, your jailors who you couldn’t help but get attached to, all you can think of is Kafka.” Caelus squatted next to the bed, now eye level with you. “How much longer do you think it’ll be until they die thanks to you? If only you had a way to change that.”

He tapped you, and something within you responded. All it wanted to do was make your wildest dreams come true, all you had to do was ask. Cracks spiderwebbed throughout his body, a golden light spilling from within. It was so bright your vision went dark.

-

Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was wrong. You couldn’t move, it was like your entire body had fallen asleep and left only your mind awake. Like your soul had partially drifted out of your body and you couldn’t manage to get it back in. Something was in the room with you and you didn’t know what it was but its presence put so much pressure on you, you felt like you were at the bottom of the ocean.

You opened your eyes to be met with the golden gaze of a foxian woman sitting alone with you in an infirmary room. “What are you doing to me?” you asked the thing inside her.

“For once? Nothing, this isn’t me.” She leaned forward, taking your hand in hers and massaged from your fingertips to your palm, from your palm to your wrist, and so on. “Your domain is expanding, and without your counterpart around or a support system you fully trust it’s unbalancing you. Not to mention your case of paracausal indigestion . What on earth possessed you to take one of those into your body?”

“Why are you here?”

“Coincidence. I didn’t know you were here or that you were still alive. I’ll be sure to tell ******, that should lift THEIR mood if only for a moment.” She had finished with one arm and had moved to your other. It felt like your own again. “Where’s Caelus?”

“Gone. Future. Don’t know where.”

“I can stabilize you for now, but it really is just a temporary solution. Your body is in an awful state, and your time is going to run out if you don’t get it under control. Either take this in fully…” she somehow seemed to squeeze the golden sun inside you. “Or find some way to pull it out and spend your last days in peace. Either way it’s your choice.”

“Who… are you? Why do I know you?”

“No one you will remember when you wake up again.”

And for the last time during this nightmare your vision went dark.

.

.

.

.

[PRESENT DAY, PRESENT TIME]

The first thing Stelle was aware of was the sharp pain inside her skull. The second was the distant noise of the infirmary radio.

“-were shocked yesterday to see the Everflame Mansion going up in literal flames. While witnesses to the scene reported loud noises and ground tremors at the time, neither the IPC nor the Committee have sent any forces to confirm the situation, abiding by the Japella territory’s Non-Intervention Zone status.”

Stelle opened her eyes and saw March slumped over her bed fast asleep while Dan Heng was sitting in the corner reading a book of classical poetry (if Stelle's memory of Hanzi could still be trusted). Stelle realized she was in one of the private rooms, and the noise of the radio was filtering in through the slightly cracked door. 

She groaned as she tried to pull herself into a sitting position. She motioned towards the book. “Do you have any favorites?”

Dan Heng's eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch as he looked at Stelle. He clicked a button next to her bed. “Tiānpíng shānshàng báiyún quán, yún zì wúxīn shuǐ zì xián. Hébì bēn chōng shān xiàqù, gèng tiān bōlàng xiàng rénjiān!”

“Sometimes you gotta cause some turbulence, though. But it's a good poem.” Stelle said after considering for a moment. Dan Heng's eyebrows went up a full inch this time.

“I was expecting you to ask for a translation.” He said, unfolding himself from the chair to stretch. “Just how many languages do you actually speak?”

“I'm not sure.” Stelle thought about the ones she’d recently spoken as she shook March’s shoulder. “At least seven.”

March grumbled and mumbled as she slowly came to, but as soon as she realized who was shaking her, her eyes shot open. She launched off the bed and wrapped Stelle in one of the tightest hugs she’d ever had. “You're awake! Oh my god you're okay.”

“What's happening exactly?” Stelle’s voice was warbled, like a squeaky toy squished as much as it could be. “Why are you acting like I almost died?”

“Because you've been unconscious for the better part of a week.” Welt explained, entering the room. Following him was Himeko, and also Tingyun for some reason. “As best we can tell, an anomaly with your powers caused some instability in your physical condition. Fortunately, the new resident Dan Shu has some high level medical experience and a healing power, and was willing to use her powers to help stabilize you.”

A dream she couldn’t remember tugged at the edge of her consciousness, of a sun in her ribcage pushing her soul out, but it was washed away by the migraine. “Remind me to thank her when I don't actively feel like death.”

The group stepped outside to allow Stelle to dress herself in peace. She overheard that Dan Shu was a blind woman who had apparently been arrested on charges of being an accomplice to criminal activity, but had not done anything violent herself. 

Tingyun’s voice rang clear as a bell through the closed door. “While Dan Shu is a resident at your correctional facility and Committee regulations stipulate that all correctional facility residents must wear power suppressing gear at all times, if you needed her to not wear hers for emergency medical treatment reasons… no one would hear it from me.”

After a pause, Welt cleared his throat. “Thank you for your consideration, Ms. Tingyun. We will take it under advisement going forward.”

Tingyun smiled at the response, and Stelle stepped out of the room. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too! Let’s go get some food.” March tugged at Stelle’s sleeve once more, but this time it wasn’t a lack of trust in Stelle’s character. It was concern. So Stelle let herself be led along, ignoring the budding warmth in her heart.

A few days later, Stelle knocked on Himeko’s office door as softly as she could. 

“Come in.” Himeko called from inside. Stelle stepped into the office and shut the door behind her, hesitating about literally everything she had come there to do. “What’s wrong, Stelle?”

Stelle started and stopped herself time and again, while Himeko simply put her paperwork away, watching and waiting until Stelle was finally ready to speak. “Has there really been no news about them at all? Or are you guys just keeping it from me to make me more compliant.”

“Calling you compliant during your stay here at any point is a stretch, but…” Himeko looked at the clock and sighed. “No, there's really been no news. The reason you got another chance after your second escape was that both the IPC and the Oversight Committee have no clue about the other Stellaron Hunters’ activities or whereabouts. After the coup of the Japella Brotherhood, your group got serious attention from all sides in a way they hadn't before.”

“Was it really that big a deal?”

“Officially there was no contact or agreements between the IPC and the Brotherhood, but unofficially there's still a lot of money to be made in Japella away from usual regulations. As long as the Brotherhood got a cut, they were happy to look the other way.” Himeko stood, walking towards her coffee pot next to Stelle and poured herself a mug. She gestured towards it, offering some to Stelle, but Stelle made a face and the offer was rescinded. “Your group overthrew the de facto government so completely that the IPC doesn't have any remaining connections in the city. What's more, the major players left standing have no interest in making any deals with the outside world for now.”

“How does that make them want to keep me alive?”

“Simply put, they're concerned about the possibility of retaliation if they put you down.” Himeko took a long sip of her coffee. “And even more scared that they're already in the Hunters’ crosshairs but don't know it yet. So they need you, and they need you to give them information.”

“But what if…” Stelle hesitated, not wanting to speak the words into the world as if that would make them come true. “What if I’m the last one alive? What if they died and that’s why I can’t remember what happened?”

“All I remember about the last job was that we were there to secure a Stellaron. I don’t remember anything else, what happened, why the building was leveled, where the Stellaron went, any of it.” Stelle was good at keeping cool under pressure but now she couldn’t manage to keep the panic fully out of her voice. “Different reactions based on what people do to and around Stellarons include explosions capable of vaporizing all organic matter. It could have been a wish, it could have been the Stellaron deciding it needed to go somewhere else or…”

“I didn’t know Stellarons were capable of thought.” This was information that Himeko wasn’t sure anyone knew with how much mystery surrounded the golden cancers.

“According to Silver Wolf I’m probably the one of the foremost experts on Stellarons and calamity offset equations outside of any Genius Society members or the Aeon generation.” Stelle was panicking and her mind was searching for any exit or rabbit hole out of the oncoming full breakdown. “Even if I don’t know how much I know or where I learned it from.”

“Well, that’s more leverage we can use to keep you alive if needed.” Himeko looked like she was already coming up with new plans and strategies, quietly accepting Stelle’s worst case scenarios as fact. It made sense, and it made sense in a way that few other explanations did if Stelle’s connection to Kafka was as steadfast as she’d let slip a few times during interrogation sessions. 

“I can make myself invincible, Himeko.” Stelle could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eye, hot and miserable and painful. “It’s a reflex that happens faster than I can process, but that reflex only applies to me. If they’re really gone then…” 

“I should have been able to save them! Maybe that’s why I can’t remember anything, trauma and guilt locked all those memories away.” As Stelle accepted their deaths, her world shifted and she broke. How could she have been so stupid. She failed, again. First when she and Caelus had found the Stellaron, she had underestimated how difficult it would be for the two of them to use it, the risks involved, and as a result Caelus had to throw himself into a distant future she might never see all to protect her stupid life. 

She could practically see it now. She must have gotten careless, and Elio didn’t foresee her acting So Stupid and Ruining Everything and that’s why everyone died. And then her reflexes kicked in, so she stayed safe while she got everyone else killed. The tears fell openly now. Unable to do anything else, Himeko wrapped her in a hug as silent sobs shook her body. “I got everyone killed. I know I did. Everything’s ruined and I’m… Please just let them put me down, Himeko”

“Oh Stelle…”

“Everyone I care about dies because I fucked up. I… I don’t want that anymore!”

Himeko offered no words of consolation. What could be said in this situation? 

So Himeko just held Stelle until she cried herself dry.

[extasiswings]

Can somebody explain to me why this "undos" Eddie's ptsd arc in s5?? I've seen people upset about this and I'm confused

...please say sike, I'm so serious, that cannot be a real thing people are saying...(jk I can believe it because this fandom's media literacy is uhhhhhhh Not Great, Bob).

Anyway, it's an extremely bad take. Eddie has consistently been shown to go through cycles where he will work on one specific thing (or very specific set of things), and then when he feels like he has sufficiently addressed that one specific thing/set of things, he will pat himself on the back for the great work like all is well/he's all good/healed/fixed while ignoring the pile of twelve million other issues in the corner that he's thrown a sheet over to avoid dealing with. Eddie's PTSD is very different from his Shannon issues, and notably, he has never actually dealt with Shannon issues!

She died in S2 and he cried on the beach over her letter and then pulled himself together so he could be a rock for Christopher and put on a strong front for his family and then he went right back to work. He nearly killed a guy in an illegal fight club and when talking to Bobby about it confessed to Shannon asking for the divorce and "I forgave her for everything, but it wasn't enough - I wasn't enough," but when he went to therapy at that point, did he engage with that or anything about Shannon at all? No he did not!

In S4/Jinx, he confesses to Bobby again that he's "still not over it, not over her" but again, does he actually grapple meaningfully with his grief at that point? No! He decides instead to jump into something with Ana and move way too fast to provide Christopher a replacement mommy. In S5, he blames his panic attacks on his relationship (which...the unreliable narrator is narrating) and after breaking up with Ana once again shoves anything relationship or Shannon-related into a dark corner and avoids it. In therapy that time around, he exclusively focuses on his physical traumas and PTSD/survivor's guilt, primarily from his time in the army. There are a million things layered into "What are you afraid of?"/"That I'll never feel normal again," but Eddie only actually grapples with like...three of them. In S6, Shannon started coming up again more explicitly, but mostly in 6B, and he still wasn't actually dealing with his grief/allowing himself to feel/engage with it or anything to do with her and their relationship. He once again started trying to find someone to date, but actively framed it as searching for the feeling he had when he first started dating Shannon. It was just a reframing of looking for her replacement.

Anyway, this season is different, and he's finally being put in a position where he's not going to be able to keep avoiding it or putting it off - he's on a collision course with all of the messy feelings he's been trying not to feel for years and has no way to pretend that it's about anything but Shannon. S7 and S5 - not the same thing at all.

[syndullqs]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 — 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓

summary — it finally all catches up to you.

warnings — gn!jedi!reader, reader is obi-wan’s child, there's some major angst oops, some fluff at the end!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. ever since the war ended, the heaviness on your chest hasn’t subsided. the grief over the loss of so many at the same time was weighing you down. luckily, the empire’s rise to power kept you busy enough.

as you sat at a table overlooking the ocean that surrounded pabu, the blend of oranges and purples pulled you into a trance. as the sun set, you felt lonely. your father was dead, your master was dead, and you barely made it out alive. everyone you loved was dead.

the realization choked you.

you shakily inhaled as tears burned your eyes. your heart twisted as you withheld sobs. pabu was a place of refuge; you didn’t want to bog it down with your trauma. you couldn’t help it, though. finally being able to rest meant you remembered things you didn’t want to.

your father’s loving embrace.

your master’s proud smile.

your best friend’s terrible jokes.

your men’s courage.

your eyes stayed on the horizon as you heard someone approach you. you quickly wiped your eyes and turned to face sergeant hunter, who’s face looked a little more relaxed than usual.

“hey,” you greeted, hoping he didn’t catch the glint of tears in your eyes.

“hey,” he sat down next to you, offering a small smile. he noticed your eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. your cheeks were red too, but maybe that was just the reflection of the sunset.

“omega busying herself?” you inquired, sniffling. hunter leaned back, his arms resting on the table top.

“as always,” he answered, “you alright?”

“fine,” you assured him. despite being a jedi, you were a terrible liar. hunter knew that, but he didn’t need his enhanced senses to see how distressed you were.

“you’re lying,” he gently pointed out, watching your expression change. you didn’t want to talk about your feelings, especially since it would be more sobbing than talking. you’ve shoved your emotions down for so long for survival purposes, and you didn’t want to open that can of worms.

“maybe i am,” you respond, your eyes still angled towards the sunset.

“you need to talk about it,” he told you. he was sincere, genuine in his desire to help you. you, however, didn’t want to be helped.

“i’m fine, hunter,” you reiterated. with every nudge to talk, to tell him what you were feeling, irritation built in your gut. you knew that he could sense your unease, and you also knew that he wanted to help you feel better. he didn’t deserve the attitude that was brewing.

“y/n, you’re not, and stop saying you are,” he was growing irritated because he knew that the longer you bottled it up, the more explosive you’d be. he also just wanted you to be ok. he hated watching you battle your past silently.

“why? why do you care so much about how i feel?” you snapped, your posture illustrating just how tense you were. you were tied up and tense, and just one wrong word would set you off.

“because it’s affecting your health, y/n! it’s taking a toll on your body and all of us can see that,” he didn’t want to fight, he didn’t want to argue with you. he didn’t want any of this but he was too caught up in the moment, and he didn’t want the moment where he’d shut down to come any faster.

“i don’t need you to try and make me feel better! i can do it by myself,” you snapped, standing up and stepping away from him. your anger was coiling around your lungs, transforming into something stronger: grief.

“you’re not supposed to,” hunter watched as you turned away from him. his senses were in overdrive, and he wasn’t sure how much more of his own emotions he’d be able to regulate, but he wanted to help you.

“you have no idea what it’s like to watch your life fall all around you. to be hunted down by the thing you once called your best friend. to reach out into the force to find some semblance of comfort and instead you’re met with emptiness. you have no idea how it feels to lose everyone you love in the span of a few hours,” your voice started out raised, almost yelling at hunter, but the more you processed the words you were saying, the softer your voice got. grief laid between your heart and your lungs, suffocating you as you struggled to keep it together.

silence crept between you, inflating and creating an uncomfortable tension. you’ve never talked about order 66, only to say it was horrific and you didn’t want to look back. hunter stepped forwards as you hugged yourself, tears spilling from your eyes. you were supposed to have control over your emotions, to regulate them in order to have clear judgement. you weren’t taught how to grieve.

“y/n…” hunter’s voice was a whisper. he stepped towards you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. hunter knew loss, he knew fear, but he didn’t know the loss you felt. he’s never seen you break in such a fragile way.

“i miss them, hunter. i’m so alone,” you sniffle as you try to regain some composure. hunter shook his head as he fought through his own body, which screamed at him to step away, to wait. he took you into his arms, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands. he felt every emotion that was pouring out of you. he felt your grief, your anger, and your guilt.

“you’re not as alone as you think,” he hummed as he swayed you gently, trying to be the force that brings you some semblance of comfort after all this time.

hi hello i’m alive. here’s some angst that’s been sitting in my drafts for too long. pls enjoy hehe

[thistlecatfics]

Sirius andromeda narcissa after the war and canon Sirius/ fanon Sirius

(I also see your therapy question ask but I'm saving that for tomorrow when I can reconnect to being a professional and I'm not a friday night fandom degenerate lol)

I just worked on canon/fanon sirius tonight and managed 1.5k words which is a lot for me! it's messy since I always do my first drafts messy but here's a snippet of a canon-ish sirius and a therapy-speaking, identity-obsessed, teeny-tiny, bratty babygirl sirius :)

“My Moony had a baby with my cousin’s daughter? But he’s demiromantic [something sexuality] [something else 2012 tumblr] –” 

Finally, Sirius cuts him off. “Are you quite sure you’re from the 70s?” 

“Yes. Graduated Hogwarts in ‘78 and suddenly I’m here. Why?” 

Sirius sighs. “Your timeline is just a very odd place, but also – “

It surprises him, the news about Remus and Tonks. It shouldn’t, maybe. He was gone years. But the thought that Remus might have a child? Remus, who was always so deeply afraid of passing on his lycanthropy? Sirius did not ask the Ministry officials about that part for fear of bringing any more attention onto the child, but he did wonder. 

He would like a moment to grieve. Instead, he has this child to babysit until he can return to his own terrible timeline and Sirius never has to look at his little pouting lips again. Or consider another universe in which he might be stupid. 

“I miss him too,” he says finally, letting the words feel heavy between them. 

Not-Sirius stands and crosses the room at that, sitting on the sofa with Sirius. Sitting very closely on the sofa to Sirius. His little thigh presses against Sirius’s, and it’s just the firewhisky that’s sending warmth in Sirius’s body. Just the firewhisky. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

For a moment, they are quiet. Sirius feels nothing but his heartbeat and his grief and the press of a body, real and not-real, against him. 

“We’ll get you back to your timeline,” Sirius says finally. “Maybe in yours everyone will live. It’s different enough, why not that too?” 

“Maybe,” Not-Sirius answers. “I’m enjoying myself here, at least for tonight though.” 

Sirius barks out a laugh. “Even in this house?” 

Not-Sirius stills for just a moment. Even though he does not move, Sirius can feel him sink into himself. Sirius knows the feeling, even if he thinks he’d rather die than let someone else see him like that. 

Sirius puts his arm around him tentatively, and he does not resist. Instead, he sinks in just a millimeter. Sirius pulls him closer. 

It feels like Regulus. It feels like holding Regulus. Regulus at fourteen, before Sirius ran away. Thin, too thin, with his competitive Seeker’s build. Sirius imagines that if he buried his face in his hair, he’d be able to smell him. It almost hurts. It does hurt. 

He’d worked so long to pretend Regulus away, and now there’s this version of him in his arms. 

Not-Sirius, Not-Regulus either, snuggles into his arms. 

“I’m here,” Sirius says, like he did to Regulus. Like he said to Regulus before he ran away and made those words a lie. “I’m here,” Sirius repeats, and it feels like a lie, because nothing feels real anymore. He doesn’t feel like he could be anywhere. 

Eventually, luckily, or unluckily, Not-Sirius begins talking. The touch brought him back to himself, that little chatty brat full of words which made no sense at all.

“Grimmauld Place is the site of all my worst traumas, and being here is very triggering to my complex PTSD. My trauma is why I have a disorganized attachment style and structural dissociation and why I struggle in my relationships with both trust and communication and boundary-setting, and –” 

“Stop,” Sirius says, pulling him closer. He has no idea what Not-Sirius is trying to say, but it does not seem very helpful, and, whatever it might be, Sirius does not want to look too closely. To his surprise, Not-Sirius does stop. Sirius takes a breath. “Drink your firewhisky, and please stop talking like that.” 

“Yes, daddy,” Not-Sirius says, tone completely shifting. He takes Sirius’s glass out of his hand and takes a sip from it before returning it to Sirius’s hand with a brush of his thumb over Sirius’s thumb on the return. 

“Careful.” There’s a hint of a growl in his voice. He doesn’t know which of them he’s cautioning. 

“Or what?” 

Not-Sirius lets his hand drape over Sirius’s thigh, sending a jolt through Sirius’s body. Sirius grabs his thin wrist and moves it back to Not-Sirius’s own leg. He maintains his grip as he takes a sip of firewhisky with his other hand. 

The boy is so easy to maneuver. 

“You’re hurting me,” Not-Sirius says, a teasing note in his voice, making no effort to remove Sirius’s hand from his wrist. 

“You like it.” 

“Maybe I do.” 

Sirius should not be enjoying himself this much. 

Except – this is him, sort of. So what does it matter? What does any of this matter? Tomorrow, Sirius will be a godfather again. Tomorrow Sirius will be a real person in a real world. 

But tonight?

and then sirius andromeda narcissa after the war!

I had an idea a few years ago, wrote a bit of scattered dialogue, and put it away ever since. maybe I'll break it out for next year's blackcest fest (if I do and you read this shhhhh no you never saw this). I just love the idea of the three of them sitting in a room trying to sort out some inheritance stuff and then getting increasingly drunk and missing bellatrix

“I received a full pardon.” 

“Then why are we meeting at Malfoy Manor? Why can’t we go to Grimmauld?” 

“A full pardon, with stipulations.” 

“Then that’s not a full pardon!” 

“Your werewolf boyfriend got my daughter pregnant.” 

“Don’t you dare speak about Remus that way. You just want to blame everyone but the woman who killed her!” 

“You both thought I was guilty.” 

“You both ran away.” 

“Neither of you know real suffering.”

[mariacallous]

Yesterday, I watched A Real Pain in the cinema. The film is a beautiful representation of two cousins, united in love and grief for their grandma, exploring their family history on a heritage trip to Poland. This experience is familiar to so many Jews I know – whether attending a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau or visiting Yad Vashem in Jerusalem, the idea of a poignant pilgrimage to see where our ancestors lived, died, survived and escaped from, is commonplace.

I’ve certainly had these experiences. When I was 12, my paternal grandparents, Ann and Henry Ebner, took me to Vienna, where Henry fled from the Nazis with his parents when he was two, arriving as a refugee in the UK just weeks before the start of the second world war. In the same year, my maternal grandma, Anna (Panni), took me to Budapest, to see where she and her husband, my grandpa, George Garai (Gyuri), had lived. Panni was six when Hitler’s troops invaded Hungary in 1944, and she survived by being hidden in an orphanage. The memories shared with me on this pilgrimage were painful ones; being separated from her parents, returning home after the war and sitting by the window waiting to see which family members would come back – and so many never did.

Gyuri died before I undertook these extremely special trips. In Budapest, Panni pointed out to me the synagogue he had his barmitzvah in, and the shop his father owned. I was seven when he died, and I never had the opportunity to hear his story from him directly.

Truthfully, my age at his passing had nothing to do with me not hearing his story. As is sadly so common with Holocaust survivors, Gyuri did not speak about his experiences with his family – his trauma was too great. However, he was a journalist, and a very talented writer, so in the 1990s he wrote an autobiography, which he called his ‘CV’, and I read it just a few years ago. My grandpa’s resilience at the age of 18, when he was taken to two labour camps, two concentration camps and on a four-day-long forced death march, is something I can never truly comprehend. I hope one day to be able to publish his CV for him.

I will never know why Gyuri chose not to share his story with his family. Perhaps he worried it was too distressing for us to hear, or maybe he didn’t want his wife and two daughters to see him as someone who had been through such horrors. To me, Gyuri is the same person he was before and after I read his testimony. He will always be my warm, loving and lovable grandpa, with his hearty laugh and twinkling smile. He was grandpa only to me and my brother, but I wanted his story to reach beyond our family.

In 2021, I came across the Holocaust education charity Generation 2 Generation, which empowers the children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors to share their parent or grandparent’s survivor testimony. With their support, I developed a presentation about Gyuri’s life before, during and after the Holocaust. Audiences learn about the survivor as a person – their personality, upbringing, family and life beyond the Holocaust, alongside integrating their powerful eyewitness testimony, in their own words.

I am so proud to have shared Gyuri’s testimony at dozens of schools, numerous workplaces, and several religious and community groups. This month, for Holocaust Memorial Day 2025, I will be heading to Bristol to speak at a local council event, continuing to share Gyuri’s story in schools, and speaking at a prison.

Each audience I speak to feels special, powerful and unique. While Gyuri never felt able to speak about his experiences in the Holocaust during his life, in his final days, he asked our family to – in his words – “tell the world what happened to me”. This is why each talk feels so incredibly special, because I know it is not just me who is fulfilling his final wish, but the room of people who now know his name, face and story, who are fulfilling this wish too. It is wonderful when I hear feedback from audiences about the power of hearing his testimony. It is a privilege to be able to share my grandfather’s story, and I also feel it is my duty, as his granddaughter, to do what he never felt able to do, but felt so strongly about being done.

I’ve been asked why I believe Holocaust education is so important, and I find it hard to verbalise. It seems so obvious to me, as the grandchild of survivors, that these stories must continue to be told – it sounds cliche to quote “those who forget history are doomed to repeat it”, but with every passing year, it’s clear we are continuing to forget the horrors humanity is capable of. Gyuri’s final message was clear: tell the world, so they can learn from it. I sincerely hope you do.

[goodobservationshirley]

Did you go into your conversations with Rebecca knowing she would be a character in the show, or was that something you were still trying to figure out? I really wanted to make her a character. She had done a few interviews where she talked about the way she dove into the world of these teenagers to write this. This woman in her 20s went and did what no journalist, no cop, and no lawyer was able to do, which is get the real truth of what happened. It was a big priority for Hulu that the show have an adult perspective, and she felt like an obvious place to start. Then we would have an opportunity to comment on the nature of true crime and what it does to somebody who immerses themselves in that.

Was she onboard with being a character in the series? I was so scared because the ask was quite personal. In an interview I read before I met her, she talked about her trauma from childhood. I knew we were going to need to delve into that if she was going to be a character in the show. She was really open to it.

She knew she was terminally ill from the time that I met her; she told me a handful of months into knowing her. I think there was an element of knowing she was at the end of her life. She was very ready to allow me to go to her most personal places and put that on the screen. Every time I turned in an episode outline to her, I’d be spinning out on the other side, like, Oh God, this is so fucking personal, and then she would send back her notes and they would just be about a line Josephine says. She never seemed to feel a real pressure to want the character to be hyper-lovable or sanitized. She taught a course on anti-heroines, so when I was like, “Hey, sometimes she’s gonna be more of an anti-hero,” she was like, “I love that.”

The character Rebecca’s feelings about her brother are an important part of the show and one of the reasons she’s able to relate to these kids so much, especially Warren, the only boy accused in the crime. Was that something Rebecca was feeling at the time and just didn’t put it in the book because she wasn’t a character herself? I think Rebecca was processing some of that during our development. In the first conversation we had about how directly the show was linked to her loss of her brother, she said that a lot of people in her life had suggested that Warren must have reminded her of her brother because she lost her brother when he was the exact same age. The final conversations I had with her right before she passed were about the fact that in the end, she realized that it was more about what she saw of herself in him than anything else. She felt that so much of his way of moving through the world would be shaped forever by guilt. I think her quest to make people understand how someone can do a bad thing came from a place of feeling like she had been capable of bad things when she was a kid.

[tenderhungering]

Have you noticed how women are used in the film? Their suffering, grief, ambitions and even deaths. It all benefits the men.

yes, i have! i think it was during the first time i watched with two of my friends that we mentioned how fucked up it seemed to bring in lilly. she was an abused child in circumstances that june describes as inhumane and now she's supposed to come on and chat about said abuse.

to better delve into this though, i'm going to do a little ramble on each female character (i've been meaning to this regardless so this question has me excited!)

Lilly

as i mentioned before, lilly, to the public, is an abused child who has been rescued from a cult and is now the subject of dr. june's book. i believe that june really did care for lilly but she in a way, was still benefiting from her by writing about her. something to study while parenting. reminds me a bit about parents who write about raising troubled children.

jack brings them onto the show almost because he knows how shocking this is to audiences, to have survived what lilly did. i think that fear and shame but also desire kiss on the mouth. the public both fears the occult but want to learn more, there is some sort of fascination with the idea of someone being in it and being able to get out of it (would people do the same?). lilly is a spectacle. she is to go from not knowing the outside world to standing in front of the camera and expecting to behave like a typical girl her age. it's almost like she has to prove herself well-adjusted after her trauma.

june explains to her that everyone having a demon inside of them, acknowledging that lilly's might be a little more literal but because the demon serves as a stark reminder of her time in the cult, it's similar to someone working around their triggers. everyone has hurt in them. like a therapist helping you work with carrying that hurt rather than just suppressing it. clearly the demon leaves lilly exhausted, upset and feel not like herself. she's crying after her scene and asking june as to why she's hurt her, and apologizing for whatever happened when Mr. Wriggles was there. she is not in control of her actions. but jack wants more. he's momentarily sympathetic but realizes that it's getting him higher ratings. the more hurt is displayed, the happier than the media is.

even in the final scene, when the demon possesses her, we can see it in her face that she's distraught. confused. but all the camera does is zoom in on her expression,

June

june is so intriguing to me as a character because it's almost as though her instinct toward things is a calm and collected behavior, one that thinks of the ethics of it, whether anyone will get hurt, but her decisions are so easily swayed by jack. and he knows exactly what to tell her too. Everyone finally take you seriously. It is the 70s so there's no surprise that misogyny is rampant (though the 70s did introduce the second wave of feminism, she may be a representation of challenging attitudes as well). june is a very passionate woman in her studies, she'd be considered an expert in the field but this is almost immediately dismissed as soon as she's introduced as a doctor. you call yourself that. is that what you believe you are? can you prove you are?

i think it makes june feel better if everyone has a distance from lilly - hence writing a book about her. you can know lilly through the pages. you don't need to make her suffer for views then, you can educate yourself on what was happened to her and understand she's hurt more than necessary. she might've felt the need to write the book for them both. lilly need to be understood and emphasized with as more than just a "child of d'abo". but jack invites her with the idea of simply talking about said book, one of her biggest accomplishments and instead wants to treat them like some sort of circus act. do a trick for me, june! you know how to! it's not enough that you tell me you know, you have to show me, you have to prove yourself to me, the camera makes it real.

it is that logic that sometimes makes her feel inclined to prove herself. and sometimes this is at the cost of her own morals.

Minnie

my beautiful wife,,,

i love minnie. so much. i've written a bit about how i think she was prior to her death in other asks but i never quite touch so much on how much she was exploited by both jack and the industry.

to be ill is a personal affair. and it was on all the tabloids whenever minnie was diagnosed with cancer (even if she did not smoke! i mention this because while smoking might contribute to lung cancer, it did feel like an odd mention that they'd pay so much attention to whether or not she did? it might've been to emphasize how sudden this all was but i'd also like to throw in that perhaps she was also just taking care of her voice! she was in theatre.) she has no privacy to mourn the gradual loss of her life. some people believe the cult was implied to be the one who had made this illness manifest for her which is awful in its own regard and more so when one considers the fact they did it to get to jack. almost as though minnie is an extension of himself and not his own person.

jack inviting her to the show could very well be done just because he wanted to invite his wife (though it does feel a bit odd he waited till she was sick to do this. maybe it was some sort of public gesture of affection, they both live to entertain, it's their job) but there's something saddening about the ordeal. it's almost as though knowing minnie was sick was not enough, the public had to see her in order to have some sort of confirmation. and the immediate comment about inviting her over being followed how even then, this wasn't enough to surpass johnny carson is morbid to say the least. almost as though minnie had just been used as a way to gain better ratings. sympathy ratings. i don't want to remove any agency of minnie, it might have been her decision to go on the show but the public's reaction to is that is what is more concerning.

even her death was simply a sacrifice. she was nothing more than a missing puzzle piece to have jack move forward (or downwards?). something that would benefit jack. as all the women in the film have been. each with such distinct personalties and motives to what keeps them going (or who are still amidst figuring out what they'd want out of life) being only part of a larger scheme where men are the benefactors. the grove only allowed men. the cult birthed sacrifices from their women. women are a stepping stone. a chess piece. something that needs to bleed for someone who demands it.

i love writing about how compelling these characters are! so sorry if sometimes my ramblings feel leaning more towards just dissection rather than downright analysis! i hope it gave some insight though!