#without loss and grief and failure and betrayal?

[angeart]

regarding that ask that said all the arcs end in pain... it breaks my heart, but it also feels like that's the only way it could go. Because for the most part, each arc has been about finding a new companion or group or place to stay and be safe. So for the arc to end, it means that the companion/group/safe place has to be torn away from them again. Be that through a betrayal, or the hunters catching up to them, or whatever might cause it, every ending is a loss. Which means that there can pretty much never be an arc that ends happily. They've been set up for failure by design. I'm gonna cry :(

😭 ...you are so very right.

there's no friendly split-ups. no reasons scar and grian would leave people or safety behind if they were given the choice.

they're not given the choice. not really.

they really are set up for failure and pain and loss. 🥺

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Five

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: 2 more chapters to go!

Masterlist: Here

The courthouse doors slammed behind you as you stepped into the empty hallway, your chest heavy with grief. The weight of the decision still hung in the air, pressing down on you like an unbearable burden. Ward had won. He had won Willa.

Your heart was a storm of emotions: fury, betrayal, hopelessness. You had tried so hard. You had fought for Willa, for Sarah and John B., to give her the life they would’ve wanted. But it wasn’t enough. In the end, the system didn’t care. The judge didn’t care. No one cared.

You found yourself sinking against the cold marble wall, your body trembling with the overwhelming sense of failure. You had promised Sarah you would look after Willa, that you would protect her. And now, in a single blow, it felt like you’d lost her.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and before you knew it, a sob broke free. The grief, the exhaustion, the helplessness—all of it hit you like a tidal wave. You buried your face in your hands, trying to steady yourself, but it felt like everything was slipping through your fingers.

And then you heard him.

Rafe’s footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you didn’t even have to look up to know it was him. He didn’t need to say anything at first—he simply crouched beside you, his hand reaching out to gently pull yours away from your face. His eyes, red-rimmed and brimming with pain, met yours.

“I... I don’t know what to do, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I promised Sarah and John B. that I would protect her, that I would keep her safe. And I failed them. I failed her.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his own pain etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached over, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the storm of grief swirling around you both.

He didn’t say anything for a long while. The only sound between you was the occasional shaky breath, the quiet sobs that escaped without warning. But then, Rafe spoke in a voice that barely reached above a whisper.

“You didn’t fail her,” he said, his voice raw. “You fought like hell for her. We both did. We’ve still got a chance to fix this. We’re not done yet.”

You pulled away slightly, looking up at him, trying to see some trace of hope in his eyes, but all you saw was the same frustration, the same loss that mirrored your own.

“I don’t know how we can fight this anymore. Ward’s got everything on his side. He’s won... and I don’t know what to do, Rafe.” You shook your head, feeling the tears come again. “I just want her back. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Rafe’s hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle despite the storm brewing inside of him. His eyes softened as he gazed at you, and you saw something there—a kind of resolve you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m not letting her go, [Y/N]. I’m not,” he said fiercely, his voice trembling. “I’m not giving up on her.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. You needed to hear that. You needed to believe it.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “But how? How do we stop Ward?”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting away as if he was piecing together a plan in his head. His brow furrowed, and you could almost see the wheels turning. Then, his gaze locked onto yours once more, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“We take it back to court,” Rafe said, his voice steadying with determination. “We find a way to show that Ward’s not fit to raise her. That we are the ones who should be raising her, not him.”

“Rafe,” you said slowly, your mind racing. “How do we do that? We can’t just... ask for a new judge or something.”

Rafe stood up, pacing back and forth as he thought. You watched him, waiting for him to finish putting the pieces together. He was quiet for a moment, then stopped in front of you, a glint of determination flashing in his eyes.

“We need evidence,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “We need proof of what he’s done. All the times he’s hurt us, hurt Sarah, hurt me. All of it. If we can show the court that he’s dangerous, that he’s unfit to care for Willa, we have a shot at getting her back.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Rafe’s words settled in. You knew what this meant. You knew the kind of things Ward had done. The abuse. The manipulation. But it had always been buried under layers of lies and secrecy. It was the one thing that had kept Ward in power for so long.

“You really think we can do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s gaze softened, but the fire in his eyes didn’t flicker. “I know we can. We’ve got to fight for her. We’ve got to fight for Sarah and John B. We owe it to them.”

You stood up, wiping your eyes, feeling a spark of something in your chest—a glimmer of hope, the first you’d felt in weeks.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steadier now. “Let’s do it. We’re not giving up. We’ll fight him.”

Rafe smiled slightly, though it was tinged with sadness. He reached out, pulling you into a tight hug, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was only the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The grief was still there, weighing heavily on both of you, but now, there was a plan. A way forward.

“We’ll get her back, [Y/N]. I promise.”

And for the first time since the hearing, you believed him.

Together, you’d fight for Willa. You’d fight for Sarah and John B. And this time, you wouldn’t lose.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It was late into the night when you and Rafe began mapping out your plan. The house was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional murmur of Willa's soft breaths from her room. Rafe sat across from you at the kitchen table, the dim light above casting shadows across his face as he tapped his fingers on the surface, his thoughts clearly miles away.

You, too, were deep in thought, mentally piecing together everything you knew about Ward, everything you had endured growing up in the Cameron household. The years of his emotional and physical abuse. The fights. The silence that followed each blow.

You felt sick just thinking about it, but you couldn’t stop. You had to. This was the only way forward. If you were going to keep Willa safe, you had to make Ward’s past a part of the case, even if it meant digging into old wounds.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, staring at the open folder on the table in front of you. It was filled with legal documents and notes from your lawyer, a roadmap for how to fight back. But it felt impossible—too big a task, too much to uncover.

Rafe leaned forward, his face tense, but his eyes were determined. “We have to, [Y/N]. We can’t let him get away with it anymore. For Willa. For Sarah.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. The weight of Sarah’s death had been unbearable for both of you. But now it was more than just grief. It was about keeping Willa safe, keeping her away from the monster that had shaped so much of their lives.

“We need proof,” Rafe continued, glancing at the stack of papers. “We need to find something. Anything.”

You nodded, your mind already racing. You knew that Ward’s past was buried in the same place as all his lies and manipulations. His anger had always been a weapon—aimed at Sarah, at Rafe, and even at you when you had been younger. There had to be something—some record, some shred of truth that you could use to show the world just who Ward really was.

“Do you have anything?” you asked, looking at Rafe.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. “I know a few things,” he admitted quietly. “But they’re not enough. Not on their own.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your chest. “What do you mean?”

Rafe leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. “I remember... there were moments. When I was a kid. I overheard things. Conversations. There were times when Sarah would—she’d try to protect me, try to shield me from Ward’s anger. But there were... documents. Letters. Things that could prove how he manipulated everything.”

You felt a chill spread over you, a sense of urgency taking over. “Where are they? Can we find them?”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, and he looked down at his hands. “They’re in the attic. A box of stuff that Sarah and I hid. I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I remember Sarah saying she didn’t want Ward ever getting his hands on them.”

Your heart raced as a plan started to form in your mind. "We need to go through it, Rafe. Everything we can find. We need to dig through all of it."

He nodded, his jaw tight with determination. “I’ll go through it. I’ll find it.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The following morning, Rafe and you set out for the attic. It felt surreal as you made your way up the stairs to the small, cluttered space that held so many memories—memories of a past neither you nor Rafe had wanted to confront, but knew you had no choice but to face now.

Dust filled the air as Rafe opened the attic door, the wooden steps creaking under your weight as you followed him up. The space was cramped, boxes piled high, old furniture tucked away, things discarded and forgotten. You could smell the mustiness of years gone by, but there was no time to linger. No time to let the memories flood you.

Rafe began to dig through the boxes, pulling out old papers, photos, and forgotten trinkets that had once meant something to Sarah and him. You watched him closely, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable. He was doing this for her—doing this for Willa.

After a few moments, Rafe paused, his fingers brushing against something wedged behind a dusty old coat. He pulled out a small, weathered cardboard box, the tape on the sides barely holding it together.

“This is it,” Rafe murmured. He opened it cautiously, as if he expected something to jump out at him. You peered over his shoulder, trying to calm the pounding in your chest. Inside, you saw a tangle of old photographs and folders—records from the past that, hopefully, would be the key to winning Willa’s custody.

Rafe pulled out a folder first, his fingers trembling as he flipped it open. Inside, there were handwritten letters—letters that Rafe had clearly never meant to read, written in Sarah’s handwriting, detailing arguments, moments of fear, and Sarah’s attempts to escape their father’s control.

“I knew it,” Rafe muttered, his eyes scanning the pages. “Sarah... she tried so hard to protect us from him.”

You felt a lump in your throat as you read over his shoulder. The letters were raw, emotional, detailing Ward’s abusive behavior—his temper, his verbal cruelty, his violence. There were accounts of physical injuries Sarah had tried to hide from the world, and she’d written about the times Ward had hurt both of them, though she never named it outright. She’d tried to find ways to escape him, even at a young age.

“This is what we needed,” you said softly, a feeling of relief flooding through you. “This is it, Rafe. This is proof. We can use this.”

Rafe stared down at the letters, his eyes glossy. He didn’t speak for a moment, and the weight of everything he had lived through—everything you were now uncovering—seemed to press down on him.

“I never wanted her to know,” Rafe whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted Willa to go through what we went through. I thought I was protecting her by keeping her away from all this.” He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “But we can’t keep running from it. If we want to win this, we need the truth.”

You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his. “You didn’t fail, Rafe. You’re doing everything you can for her. We’ll make sure she’s safe. We’ll make sure Ward doesn’t win.”

Rafe exhaled deeply, looking at the papers in his hands. “We’ll do whatever it takes. We’re not losing her.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The attic felt smaller as the hours passed, the musty air thick with the weight of the secrets it held. You sat beside Rafe on the dusty floor, the pile of evidence between you growing larger. Letters. Photographs. Police reports. Even old school records. It was all beginning to paint a picture of a man no one ever truly understood—the man who had shaped Sarah, Rafe, and their entire childhood.

You flipped through a few more papers, the words on the pages starting to blur as your emotions overwhelmed you. There were times Sarah had begged to be seen, to be heard, and each word you read was like another stab to your heart.

“God…” you whispered, your hand trembling as you gripped the edge of a photo. It was one of Sarah, just a child, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The darkness that had been lurking in the background of their lives, the abuse they had endured, was so clear now. It wasn’t something you’d seen before—perhaps because you hadn’t wanted to see it. But now, as the layers were peeled back, the reality hit you like a flood.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Rafe’s voice cut through the silence, soft and gentle. “Hey, you okay?”

You blinked and wiped at your eyes, trying to keep it together. But the tears didn’t stop. “How could he do this to her?” Your voice cracked as you looked down at the photograph. “How could he hurt them like this? How could he… do this to you?”

Rafe was silent for a long moment, and you felt him shift beside you. You could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles, the quiet grief that hung in the air like a thick fog.

You turned to look at him, catching him staring at you, his eyes shadowed with pain. The walls he had built around himself were always so thick—so hard to penetrate. But now, in this moment, with all the pieces of the past laid bare, the mask he wore seemed to crack just enough to let you see the real him.

“I’m sorry you had to see all this,” he said quietly, his voice heavy. “You didn’t deserve to know the ugliness of it.”

Your chest tightened. “No, I needed to know. I need to understand.”

Rafe took a deep breath, rubbing his hand across his face. His shoulders slumped, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw a man who wasn’t just the spoiled, angry son of a cruel father. You saw a man who had been broken by his past, a man who had been fighting every day to prove he wasn’t his father. But in his search for redemption, he’d never realized that the hardest thing to do was forgive himself.

“I know I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” Rafe muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t... I didn’t want to be like him. I never wanted to be like him. I was just... trying to survive. Trying to protect Sarah, protect myself.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching for him. You had always seen the worst in him, the ways he lashed out, the cruelty that sometimes bled through. But now, as you sat there with him, you understood. You understood that his anger, his rebellion, was just a defense mechanism. A mask for the hurt he carried, the fear that had been instilled in him from a young age.

“Rafe…” Your voice trembled as you reached out, placing a hand over his. “You’ve done so much for her. For Willa. You’re not like him. Not in any way. You’re more than what he said you were. More than anyone ever saw.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when you saw something flicker in his eyes. Vulnerability. Pain. A need for validation. For the first time, you realized just how much he needed to hear that. Needed someone to see him for who he truly was.

Rafe leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest against yours, his breath shallow and uneven. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything hanging between you. His hand, warm and slightly trembling, cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin there. You could feel the electricity between you, the way his body tensed, the way you both seemed to exist in this moment where everything else faded away.

And then, as if something snapped, you moved without thinking. Your lips found his in a soft, tentative kiss—a kiss that was born from shared grief, from the fragile hope that had flickered between the two of you ever since you had started this journey together. It was a kiss full of longing, of understanding, of something neither of you had been ready to admit until now.

Rafe kissed you back, slowly, as though he was testing the waters. His hand slid to your jaw, holding you gently as his lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that surprised you both. There was nothing frantic about it, no rush. Just the simple, raw need to connect, to feel something good after all the loss.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths came in shaky bursts. Rafe’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. You didn’t know what to say. Words didn’t seem to matter in that moment.

But then you both spoke at once, as if trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions swirling between you.

“I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Wait, that was… I shouldn’t have—”

You both fell silent, the awkwardness creeping in. But something had shifted. The tension between you had transformed into something else—something deep, something unspoken. You realized, maybe for the first time, that the lines you had drawn between each other were no longer so clear. The walls were crumbling, and in their place was a fragile, but undeniable connection.

“I just…” you started, your heart racing. “I just needed to tell you that you’re not your father, Rafe. You never were. And I... I see you. I see all of you.”

He exhaled sharply, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, his gaze intense. “And I see you too. I don’t know what this means, but I—”

Before he could finish, you pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure everything out. For Willa. For us.”

Rafe nodded, his hands still resting on your face. You both knew that the road ahead was going to be hard—there was no easy way forward. But for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in it anymore.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[el-jarado]

"Everything's Changed Since Polites"

In light of the extensive re-litigation of the events of Storm Saga after the Thunder Saga, I find myself thinking about "Keep Your Friends Close" a lot recently, and how I think Odysseus was set up for failure from the get-go, and not because of his crew being bad.

Polites's absence is felt like a knife in Storm Saga but the whole gang is feeling it. When "Luck Runs Out" comes up, this is the first time Eurylochus has seriously questioned Odysseus's plan in the musical; probably the first time he's seriously questioned him in over a decade. And what passes between them is pretty telling to me.

Where is this coming from, my friend? I just don't wanna see another life end You're like the brother I could never do without And suddenly, you doubt that I could figure this out?

From what I've seen, Epic takes the approach that Odysseus, Polites, and Eurylochus have been together since they were children. Polites is Odysseus's best friend, but he was Eurylochus's friend too, and he's the first of all of them to die in battle since Odysseus started leading them. They're both reeling from that loss, but how it comes out is bad for both of them. Eurylochus, as we see, is someone who locks down when he's shaken; focus on immediate safety for his shipmates even if it prevents a better course of action (run when the other cyclopses show up, the food is not worth having to take on another dozen Polyphemus; get the crew the fuck away from the sexy witch before she turns the rest of them into pigs; avert starvation NOW deal with (more) angry gods LATER). He does not want Odysseus to get hurt dealing with something as dangerous as a god, and tries to express that. Odysseus withdraws into himself and lashes out at anything that tries to reach him when he's shaken; he's already lashed out at Athena when she takes him to task while he's still grief-striken over Polites, and here he doesn't hear his brother saying "please don't be reckless, I can't lose you too", he hears "you weren't good enough to bring everyone home, and we don't believe in you anymore." He's cold and dismissive to Eurylochus's doubts to cover for his own hurt, and that just makes those doubts worse.

It's exactly the wrong mindset to approach Aeolus in, and this is the part I've really been turning over in my head. Aeolus's game does sound too easy; all he's gotta do is not open the bag, while sailing on a ship staffed by 43 men he's been leading for ten years, many of whom he's probably known his entire life. The winions add the obvious catch in that they spread a rumor among the crew that the bag is a treasure Odysseus is keeping to himself before Odysseus can explain himself, but I think in many ways Aeolus's whole song is putting a finger on the scales. Aeolus, in presenting it to Odysseus, implies that some of his brothers are enemies and should be treated as such, and the winions, spreaders of mischievous whispers, keep telling him "never really know who you can trust." (And imply he should kill and sacrifice when it's convenient, the act that ultimately destroys all trust in the crew down the road.) And I think that's a malicious twist in the game just as much as "It's treasure~! Buh-bye!" :D

Odysseus went up to the island feeling sore and defensive after his last talk with Eurylochus, and when he's told to keep his friends close and his enemies closer, it's interesting to me that he doesn't think "I don't have any enemies on that ship, those men are my brothers" or even "who can I trust to help me with this?"

He thinks "I need to do this entire thing myself." It could be hubris, a quality Odysseus certainly doesn't lack for, but I think this is the shadow of Polites not being there again. Odysseus had to leave some of his men behind for the first time in ten years, and he thinks he's lost their faith because of it. He's guided to expect a betrayal and feels like he needs to do something amazing all on his own to show Eurylochus and the others he's still got it, Polyphemus was a fluke.

Part of my understanding of human nature has been that people respond to our expectations and treatment of them. I sincerely believe if Odysseus had taken Eurylochus and/or a few of his most trusted men into his confidence for managing the bag, the temptation to open it would have been greatly diminished or negated. Odysseus doesn't treat any of his friends as if they're worthy of his trust, because Aeolus got in his head and he's trying to prove something to himself and to them by doing this singlehandedly. However, people respond to how you treat them, and Odysseus not realizing the crew are just as shaken by Polites's loss as he is and treating them with suspicion makes worry fester into doubt.

Polites's loss is felt keenly again; he's not there to tell Odysseus he can relax, that kindness is brave and he should trust in his friends to support him instead of treating them like potential enemies (Ody remarks on being unopposed as if he was expecting otherwise, which is not the relationship he's had with the crew up to now), and he's not there to reassure Eurylochus and the crew Odysseus must have a good reason for his cagey, secretive behavior and they shouldn't listen to the winions continuing to suggest a little peek to make sure of things wouldn't hurt. (I take the continued presence of the winions in the song to imply they're harassing the crew with rumor the entire time Odysseus is keeping to himself and trying not to sleep.) I don't think Eurylochus would have wanted to look in the bag if he was brought in on protecting it, that's not his relationship with Odysseus, but when they're nearly to Ithaca, Odysseus hasn't said a word to anyone in days, nobody really knows what's going on but there's all these rumors flying and the Captain's acting strange...

It would not surprise me if Epic's interpretation is similar to the Odyssey where they're almost back when the bag opens, in which case it might be even more tragic as an Orpheus & Eurydice twist; I don't think it was a case where the bag would've been opened the moment Ody turned his back, I think he stayed awake for nine days out of wholly unjustified paranoia/trying to make a point he's still got it by doing everything himself, and Eurylochus and the crew celebrated too early when their destination was in sight. They thought they were home, there's no harm in having a look now, right? Wrong; Aeolus (probably deliberately) didn't specify when it would be safe to open the bag, and certainly didn't feel the need to warn Odysseus the magic winds inside would blow them miles away from where they opened it. Like Orpheus makes it out of the underworld and then ruins his hard work because he looks back just before Eurydice has, I suspect the crew was not trying to open the bag during the days Odysseus was depriving himself of sleep to watch it; it's at the seeming end of the journey that "they wanna get the bag open so they can have closure." Like most bad ideas, it is likely Eurylochus did what he did when it didn't seem like there was any obvious harm in it; Odysseus said don't open the bag until we're home, but Ithaca's in sight, what could it hurt to celebrate a little early?

To make a long story short, I think Ody and the boys were hosed with the wind bag trial from the start without Polites around, and it's not just because the crew fell for a rumor introduced to make the game harder and Eurylochus eventually acted on it; it's also because a god Ody just met told him not to trust his friends, and he believed the god he just met instead of them because he's still mourning his best friend and misread his other best friend's concern for his safety as a sign his leadership was faltering. God games are rarely if ever fair; the house always wins, and it's a lesson Ody learns slowly and painfully.

I'm also not gonna do another long post about my point that people, Odysseus included, keep forgetting making it back to Ithaca with Poseidon still royally pissed at them would've been very very bad, but making it back to Ithaca with Poseidon still royally pissed at them would've been very very bad!

[gffa]

Have you watched the First Okiro's recent Star Wars video? He made a really interesting case about how TLJ Luke was a form of character assassination. When I saw the ask you answered about how Luke treasured Yoda and read the last paragraph, I thought maybe you'd agree.

https://youtu.be/r0I86ii2N_8?si=-oHY6dQsFBsSAfPv

Hi! Honestly, I pretty much refuse to watch any Star Wars video essays anymore because so many of them are anti-Jedi and I don't think it's fruitful for any of us for me to put myself through that, they don't gain anything, I don't gain anything, etc. So I have no idea what the case being presented in the video is, I'm only going on "character assassination" in TLJ and how I actually disagree. I mean, I think it was poorly executed in some ways, but that the basic concepts of it are ones I actually think are the best parts of the movie. My problems with TLJ's Luke story is that I think the extremity of it was too much, that him being on the island for six years without contact with anyone was too long for how I see Luke, as well as I think the structure of having Han die and not showing that deleted scene of Luke mourning his death, of having Luke interacting with Rey but making it all about Ben, none of that worked for me. But what does work for me is that the idea of overcoming pain and suffering is a one-and-done deal is just not how Star Wars or the Force works. Luke very nearly fell to the dark side in Return of the Jedi, that wasn't just put there for the aesthetics, that was something he was genuinely teetering on the edge of, he was raining hell down on Vader when slicing away at his arm, Sidious genuinely felt the anger and rage roiling inside Luke, he had to struggle to turn away from it and embrace what it meant to be a Jedi.

That's not a one time struggle--that's something characters face their entire lives. And if you include the Disney comics (which are really good imo), Luke struggles with loss and pain and anger after the defeat on Bespin, he has to struggle through not falling to the dark side again. And, hell, even MARK HAMILL says that Luke's fall down the reactor shaft on Bespin was akin to him basically trying to commit suicide because he was so devastated. So I think it's fair that Luke could struggle with that again later in his life, I think it's fair that after pouring everything of himself into building up the Jedi again, to have it torn down by someone he loved, someone that he may have bordered on attachment to (as Star Wars and the Jedi define it--love and attachment are not the same thing, attachment is the desire to hold onto something/someone so tightly because you can't live without it and thus you can't see it clearly, which I think I could believe of Luke, that he was so blinded by his desire for what he wanted for Ben that he couldn't be objective about him, just like he struggled with loving his sister so much that rage boiled inside of him when Palpatine threatened her and Luke's friends on the second Death Star), that he retreated because this felt so massive and he felt like he was the only one who could build this school and that he pulled these kids into this life. Like, it's fair that Obi-Wan struggled with Anakin's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Tatooine, so I think it's fair that Luke struggled with Ben's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Ahch-To--they both had to process that grief and it's not always a perfect path when it's someone you love that dearly and were so incredibly close to. Ultimately, the entire speech Luke gives is one that is DESIGNED to be knocked down, he is literally standing in front of the First Order and facing them down with his laser sword at the end of the movie, Rian Johnson literally says that it was Luke's personal failure, not the failure of the Jedi religion, and Luke finds his feet again. And that's my guy!!! The guy who makes mistakes, but is such a core of goodness and compassion and care for others that he eventually gets over these massive hurdles placed in front of him, and so that part of Luke's story worked for me. I'm just not wild about the finer details of how it was actually executed, even if I think it's fair to point out that Rian Johnson was handed a pre-existing situation that he then had to reverse engineer a backstory for with an extremely limited time to do it, because apparently THEY DIDN'T PLAN OUT THE TRILOGY AHEAD OF TIME for fucks sake.

[therealesino]

This might be kinda random but I was wondering, what would all the Royaul characters be as tarot cards? What's their uprights and reverses? This question has been on my mind for quite a while since the latest update hahah

I really like this question, so I took some time to really think about it, and I think this is how I would see them.

Cross - wheel of fortune. Both reverse and upright. Wheel of fortune is luck, opportunity, change, destine, winning. It can also mean karma, and honestly, Cross is the personification of karma. (just ask Samuel and Carol uwu) Honestly, on that note, ask the harem too. They did nothing to deserve what happened to them, and they got to see justice served. UwU

Reversed, this is bad luck, disappointment, misfortune, mishap, unforeseen setback. We see this in the guard, and how he interacts with his father honestly. And we will be seeing this more as the story progresses.

Killer - 10 of swords (I'm sorry baby D:) Upright this means ruin, failure, bitterness, collapse, exhaustion, dead end, victimization, betrayal. All things that would describe royaul Killer. Killer has been betrayed, brutalized, and broken in ways we haven't fully seen yet. He's changed, and he's hurting.

Reversed, this is survival, improvement, healing, lessons learned, despair, relapse. So, not without hope, but Killer has been changed by his experience, and he will struggle with healing.

Nightmare - 5 of cups. The 5 of cups means loss, grief, disappointment, sadness, mourning, discontent, feeling let down. These are all things that would describe royaul Nightmare, especially after his father's betrayal and his mother's death.

But revered the 5 of cups means acceptance, moving on, finding peace, contentment, seeing positives. Which is how he differs from Killer. Killer struggles so much to move on, to let go, where as Nightmare is ready to shed who he was and be something new. Something better with Cross and the others. He's changed yes, but he's not going to let it stop him.

Dust - the star. The star represents hope, inspiration, positivity, faith, renewal, healing, rejuvenation. Which I think we see a lot in the collar and the wall. Dust was breaking down, falling apart at the seams, until Cross came along and pulled him back together. But he had to believe in Cross, and have a little faith, that everything was going to be okay.

The star reversed is hopelessness, despair, negativity, lack of faith, despondent all things we saw from Dust when he was in the parlor. He was giving up, on the verge of falling down, and giving into madness. His mind in tatters that it left him spiraling down.

Horror - four of wands. This card represents community, home, celebrations, reunions, parties, gatherings, stability, belonging. And let's be honest, without Horror, the others would have fallen apart in the parlor. He's the one who held them together, and kept them sane. We'll get to see Horror shine soon enough, and remind everyone why he was seen as a pillar of strength before the fall.

Reversed, it means lack of support, instability, feeling unwelcome, transience, lack of roots, home conflict. And well, we all know what happened when Tempo tried to separate the harem.

Epic - Justice. Epic is justice through and through. It represents justice, karma, consequence, accountability, law, truth, honesty, integrity, cause and effect. Much like Cross, Epic is karma and justice, and honesty. But unlike Cross, it comes at a much steeper price, and he does not always win. In fact, if you ask Epic, he losses a lot uwu

Reverse, justice is injustice, retribution, dishonesty, corruption, unfairness, avoiding accountability. Now I wouldn't say Epic is corrupt, far from it. But his life has been nothing but unfairness, and as a spy he is rife with dishonesty and retribution.

The avoiding accountability, well that will come later in his personal life UwU

EDIT

Not me forgetting Dream.

Dream - Death. The death card represents transformation, endings, change, transition, letting go, release. Which is not where Dream is at the moment.

He's stuck on the reverse of death, which is fear of change, repeating negative patterns, resisting change, stagnancy, decay.

Dream was so, so traumatized by what happened to him, so changed, so broken, that he's stuck for the first part of the story. He resists everything good that is being given to him and doesn't trust a single thing, leaving him falling apart on the way side.

Eventually, and after some stuff, he will transform into a being of change, and release. He will let go of some of his hurt, once he accepts that things are different, and honestly, thats okay.

[dany-is-my-queen]

A Question Of Loyalty XIV

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 3,5k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

You took a trembling breath as the brooch slipped from your fingers, its soft clink echoing. The weight of grief, loss, and the burden of choices made.

Although you were tempted to go straight to Dragonstone with Rhaenys' remains, you ended up returning to the capital. There was no hunger for answers, no craving for interactions. All you craved was solitude, for the shock still held you tightly in its grip.

Alicent had dispatched a dozen knights to find you and fetch you safely back. Yet, you eluded their search, deliberately taking the longer path home. Your dragon, wounded by the Scorpion’s quarrels, sought solace in the nearby mountains, nursing its strength back to health.

The Dowager Queen yearned to go to you the moment she discovered your return, but you denied her presence, refusing even the comfort of your beloved Haleana, who sought to console you as well.

You screamed through your casement with intensity, your eyes aflame with a fervor on the brink of eruption. Each muffled shout gradually lost its potency, stifled and quelled until your throat could no longer produce a single vocalization. Your outburst resonated with such force that its echoes reverberated all the way to The Wall, reaching ears that stood at a distance.

Rumors, like wildfire, devoured the truth. They whispered of a shattered mind, accusing you of spilling the blood of the King's men, even the Lord Commander’s. They claimed you failed to shield him from the foe, leaving him grievously wounded. They weaved tales of your supposed treachery, plotting to keep him in that weakened state, with the intent to bring about his demise. They called you a failure.

But those who dared to look beyond the surface, who peered into the depths of your pain, understood. They saw it as a struggle within the bounds of family, an act driven by a daughter's love. To them, your actions were justified, as any child with a compassionate heart would have done the same.

Opinions, divided as they were, held no sway over you. The world's judgment felt insignificant. You berated yourself relentlessly for the inability to intervene as you wished, even though the circumstances were beyond your control. The crushing weight of helplessness enveloped you, intensifying the pain of failing to protect those you held dear. Your efforts always fell short, leaving you to bear the consequences.

With your mother gone, the world lost its balance. Without her, Laena, Laenor.. everything felt askew.

Aegon, weakened and burned, found no strength to cast blame or reproach upon you. Aemond, though visibly perturbed, chose silence over comment. Aegon's throne was now occupied by his brother, the Protector of the Realm, as he languished in his bed, unable to govern. Otto resumed his former position.

—

Days melted into one another. Food lost its flavor, and sleep became a mere facade as you sat, staring blankly through the window.

Alicent faithfully visited you every morning and afternoon, harboring no blame for the choices that led to this. She comprehended the extents of your anguish, understanding the why behind your actions. She refused to see betrayal in the loss of her sworn protector. Instead, she offered genuine concern, striving to uplift your shattered spirit. Yet, you couldn't bear the thought of her wasting her precious time on your sorrow.

"I brought the cake we learned to make together when we first met," Alicent gently shared. Memories danced within her words, evoking the image of your amazed face as you discovered your culinary prowess that surpassed even the most skilled cooks in King's Landing. "You possess a natural talent. It may not be as refined as yours, but I asked them to pour their hearts into it," Alicent concluded, tinged with warmth, hoping to infuse some light into your dim world.

"Thank you, dear," you replied, determined not to let your pain dampen her kindness. She refused to give up.

"Nyke miss ao, issa joraelagon," she stumbled in your second language, her effort endearing to you as you witnessed her struggle.

"Jorrāelagon," you corrected her gently, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips, a rare sight in these times. "You're making progress," you teased, and she returned the smile.

"I need more practice; I cannot disappoint you," she confessed, audaciously leaning against the edge of the bed. The gesture brought you ease rather than discomfort.

Silence enveloped you, and as you turned your gaze, your eyes locked with hers. The delicate intensity in her stare made you feel as fragile as glass.

"I’m sorry, Y/N. And I'm here by your side," she whispered. Your attention lingered on her lips, and instinctively, she closed the gap between you, sealing your connection in a gentle, unintended kiss. Without hesitation, you straddled her, the world around you fading as your lips sought relieve in one another's embrace, drawing breaths that fueled the yearning for each other, not mere oxygen.

As the morning light seeped through the curtains, Alicent continued to cradle you, providing serenity that eased the ache within you.

—

Amidst the gentle morning, bathed in the golden rays of the rising sun, you sat by the gardens. Within this a sanctuary was found in the presence of mother and daughter, their bond deepening over the passing months. Despite Haleana's reservations toward forging connections with others, she let her mother in.

In that very instant, a vow surged. You swore to safeguard them, to offer your very life if need be, for the anguish of losing a mother knows no bounds. There was no sacrifice too great, no price too steep.

Haleana, enveloped in her own musings, excused herself, leaving you alone with Alicent. The stage was set, and you knew the time had come to reveal things. Delayed though it may have been..

Alicent spoke of her brother’s eagerness to delve beyond mere formalities and acquaint himself with you. Succumbing to the game, you matched her jest with lighthearted banter, affirming Gwayne's honorable character and striking handsomeness.

"Handsome?" she exclaimed.

"Indeed, the most handsome Hightower I have ever known," you continued, stoking the fires of mirth within her.

"Shall I summon him to your presence, that you may indulge in a conversation, or perhaps embark on a ride together?" she offered, you feigned to be considering the proposal.

"I find greater excitement in riding dragons than horses," you confessed, your words bearing no hidden innuendo, prompting her laughter to cascade. "What have I said?" An innocent grin adorning your countenance.

"That he is the most handsome Hightower you know," she echoed your earlier words, and you tilted your head ever so slightly, directing your gaze solely upon her.

"And you, my love, are the most beautiful Hightower I have ever beheld," you added. As anticipated, a delicate blush bloomed upon her cheeks. "Though, technically, you are a Targaryen, are you not?"

"The colors of your house adorn me far better, do they not?" she mused. "You have always been black and red.”

"I bear fire and the sea within my veins. Yet, you speak true, for one force will inevitably dominate," you confessed, grappling with the figurative language that danced upon your lips. “Alicent..—“ With a fleeting moment of courage, you closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve, and dared to maintain eye contact as you stood on the precipice of baring yourself. Alicent, ever attentive, awaited as you prepared to unveil.

“Your Grace, my Lady," a guard's voice resonated behind you, saluting with reverence. "There are urgent matters that demand your attention. Prince Aemond and Ser Otto await you at the Hand's Tower.”

"Thank you, Ser," Alicent replied, her disappointment hidden beneath a mask of regal composure. Reluctantly, the two of you followed the guard's lead.

Upon entering the Red Keep, Alicent firmly clasped your hand, steadfastly refusing to release it, despite the passing gazes of onlookers. You reciprocated the gesture with an equally firm grip.

Within the confines of the Tower of the Hand, Aemond's scrutinizing gaze met your own, a flicker of concern shadowing his features. Ser Otto, ever disdainful of the bond between you and Alicent, maintained an air of disinterest. The presence of other lords, gathered with intent.

"What unfolds, my son?" Alicent cut through the charged atmosphere.

"The Pretender and her forces have gained an army." Aemond responded.

"An army? Have they sought the aid of sellswords?" your curiosity welled up.

“No, not sellswords, but dragons. One of them being the former companion of your very own," he revealed.

"Vermithor?" He nodded.

"How can such a thing be possible?" Alicent's voice wavered, her confusion mirroring your own.

"According to Lord Strong's spies, your father played a hand in guiding the Princess's actions. Their motivations diverged in the aftermath of Rook's Rest, but time pressed upon them. Weeks were spent in search of riders who could mount the dragons dwelling on Dragonstone. Even Ser Laenor's Seasmoke found a place among their ranks."

"Two dragons then.”

"My sources speak of attempts to tame more, wild dragons. Yet, only one yielded to their will—Sheepstealer."

"The capital would crumble beneath the weight of their dragons. They would descend upon us with six in total," Master Orwyle interjected. The scales tipped in favor of the Blacks, leaving naught but a bleak outlook.

"And how were these dragons tamed?"

"Bastard blood holds an extraordinary power, Your Grace," Larys responded, casting a fleeting glance in your direction. Your anger flared.

"My granddaughter does not ride her dragon. Sunfyre, like the king, languishes in a state of inaction. Only Vhagar and Silverwing stand to defend our city," Otto voiced.

"Silverwing has yet to recover fully. It would be unwise to send her into battle, for her presence may sow more damage than aid," you interjected. In truth, you harbored doubts as to whether you desired involvement in the imminent conflict.

"That is the least you and your dragon could offer after your lackluster performance in the recent incident, my lady," Ser Otto retorted.

Aemond swiftly intervened, commanding and authoritative. "Address Lady Y/N with the respect she deserves, grandfather. We must be prepared for any surprise attacks from the Blacks."

The fate of kingdoms teetered on the edge.

—

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets of King's Landing, you walked alongside Alicent, she extended an invitation, drawing you into the grandeur of the Great Table.

The Hall echoed with silence as only the two of you sat. The remnants of your interrupted conversation from the morning still lingered, beckoning to be resumed.

"Can you fathom the magnitude of the menace we face?" The very thought of combating so many fully-grown dragons sent shivers down Alicent’s spine. In that moment, the allure of escape, of fleeing the city of chaos with Alicent & Helaena, enticed you. To leave everything behind, to shield your loved ones from further bloodshed, danced on the periphery of your thoughts. Yet, that notion, ephemeral and fragile, dissolved as swiftly as it had appeared. For deep within your being, a burning desire stirred. You yearned to see her.

"We may not have the means to defend ourselves," you admitted.

"And shall we surrender, then? Yielding to her without a fight?" It held a desperate tremor, an echo of the resignation that would inevitably come.

"If your father and Aemond can devise superior strategies, if they can unearth a path to victory, then perchance we may yet elude that fate," you replied, burdened by the uncertainties that lay ahead.

"Whose side will you choose when she arrives?" Her voice betrayed the fear that gripped her heart.

A surge of guilt washed over you as you struggled to find an immediate answer, weary from the ceaseless battles waged within. In the end, it mattered not, for no matter the path you chose, you always questioned if it was the right one.

Shifting the weight of the conversation, you took a long sip of wine, the crimson liquid offering respite. And as the intoxicating warmth coursed through, you began to unburden your chest, the words tumbling forth in a hushed, intimate confession.

"My mother, she believed I harbored resentment, even hatred towards her... When she was imprisoned after King Viserys' death, she revealed the truth of my parentage to me," you confessed, your voice laden with an ache that echoed. A momentary pause allowed the weight of those words to settle. With parched lips, you took another sip.

"I accused her of me being born out of wedlock, of not being hers. And it was then, that she confessed the truth to me," you continued. Alicent's gaze remained fixed upon you, her expression unreadable, allowing you the space to share the depths of your secret.

"The anger within me swelled, for she had never intended to reveal it, and yet Corlys had known all along. He had accepted her, married her. He had accepted me and raised me as a Velaryon, never making me feel any less. For that, I am eternally grateful," you spoke, filled with gratitude.

"My true father was but a sailor, who had got her with child when she was promised to Corlys. He wanted to know me, to be a part of my life... until tragedy befell him, a cruel twist of fate. And that was the end of it. He was from Lys, as handsome as the tales of old, she said.”

Minutes passed, and you remained embraced in silence, leaving Alicent to wonder if it was time to offer her own thoughts.

She cherished the raw honesty that flowed from you, even though it was not the first time she had heard this confession. She understood the tremendous blow it had dealt you when you first learned of your true lineage.

"Perhaps my mother departed this world believing that this revelation was the reason I did not choose to follow her," you confessed, tinged with regret, the specter of missed opportunities lingering.

"But in the end, Y/N, you were by her side. You came to her rescue. In her heart, she knew you harbored no hatred, for it was something you could never possess.”

"I apologize for not confiding in you sooner," you murmured, the weight of your words softened by the realization that you had sought to shield her from the anguish that haunted your past.

"Why did you not?" Her inquiry, gentle and understanding, sought not to condemn but to unravel the complexities of your heart. "Did you genuinely believe... that I would turn you away, knowing your true parentage? You know me better than that, Y/N."

"I could not risk losing you," you confessed, the words weighed down by the fear of abandonment that had silently plagued your thoughts.

"Y/N..."

"I thought you harbored reservations..." The words escaped before you could contain them, abruptly halted as you caught yourself, unwilling to give them a voice.

She finished the sentence for you. "I know you believed that because of the princess's children.I would never turn away from you, Y/N. It pains me that you did not trust me enough to confide in me sooner, but I understand your reasons. And it is alright, truly," Alicent assured you, brimming with warmth and acceptance.

"I love you," you whispered, surrendering yourself to the rest of the night.

—

Rhaenyra recognized the urgency to press forward, as she feared being remembered as the queen who failed to rightfully claim her father's throne—a title she found unappealing and detrimental to her reputation. She had always known Alicent's words were a lie, a deceitful ploy to drive you away for good. Initially, Rhaenyra considered abandoning the fight for the sake of her children's safety, but she reconsidered, she refused to be remembered in such a manner.

For her cause, they had secured three valuable dragons: Sheepstealer, Vermithor, & Seamoke. Seamoke, her ex-husband's mount. She believed him to be alive beyond the Narrow Sea with his lover, Ser Carl. Rhaenyra envied their freedom from the burdens of duty and madness that came with their birthright. In her ideal reality, she pictured a life with you, free from all constraints.

Everything was prepared for their advancement, Jaecerys, the Prince of Dragonstone, was eager to proceed until your alliance with the High Council of the Triarchy altered their plans. Warships had arrived at the Stepstones, leading to a change in strategy. The attack was not only focused on capturing strategic locations but also targeted your father’s ancestral seat, High Tide. As those who entered the Gullet south of Dragonstone faced resistance, Prince Jacaerys fought back on Vermax, but the men from the Free Cities refused to give in. More dragons appeared above the Dragonmont, aiming to eliminate their opposition.

Sadly, the dragon ridden by Rhaenyra's eldest son couldn't withstand the assault and crashed into the sea. The heir to the Throne met a tragic end, struck by multiple arrows and swallowed by the ocean. There was no doubt about the bravery of Jace, just as his younger brother Luke had shown. The news of their demise spread quickly, leaving you with a different kind of helplessness than when you learned about Vhagar's attack on Arrax. You knew your eldest nephew wasn't a craven, and you were certain he fought until his last breath.

If you held faith in the afterlife, in.. realms beyond, you believed that Jace and Luke were now reunited.

You knew Rhaenyra’s assault on the capital was imminent, awaiting the opportune moment.

You also discovered that Daeron, earned the title of ‘Ser Daeron the Daring’. He displayed bravery by saving Lord Ormund and joining the rescue mission at the River Honeywine, becoming the hero of that battle. You knew he didn't claim all the credit for himself; he shared it with his companion & she-dragon, Tessarion, with whom you had shared many adventurous afternoons and joyful moments. Time had transformed him into a courageous, audacious, and kind-hearted lad.

Rhaenyra knew of your loss, for she, too, held deep affection Rhaenys. Upon discovering your deeds in Rook’s Rest, she naively believed you would return home to her. Yet, you did not. Finally, she comprehended that you would no longer choose her, rendering her waiting in vain. She wanted to confront you, face to face, regardless of the outcome. Expectations evaporated, leaving only the desire to extricate you from her mind and heart, allowing her to forge ahead.

—

Aemond, undeterred by counsel and brimming with conviction, persisted in advocating for a daring plan that involved riding forthwith to Daemon's doorstep. His aim was to seize his adversary unawares, ending his life within the ancient walls of Harrenhal, where the Prince had long entrenched himself. With each stride taken toward this perilous objective, Rhaenyra's vulnerability would be amplified, bereft of both husband and one fewer dragon.

Yet, despite the fervent dissuasion voiced by yourself and his mother, he scorned the wisdom proffered by those closest to him. Fuelled by his own impetuous resolve, he hastily sought to mount Vhagar's back, with Otto at his side, who embraced his shared vision.

"Tarry a while longer until your brother is fit for battle. It ill behooves you to court such hazard alone," Alicent implored, her pleas ringing forth with maternal concern.

"Mother, place your trust in my capabilities," he reassured. "Vhagar has emerged unscathed from countless fights, fret not for my well-being." Upon hearing Aemond's declaration, an almost uncontrollable surge of wrath surged within you, tempting you to lunge forward and deliver an instinctual blow upon his unwary countenance. Yet, for the sake of it, you restrained yourself, holding firm against the tempestuous emotions that coursed through your veins. "The defense of the City shall not languish," he proclaimed with unwavering confidence.

"It could, Your Grace," you interjected, your words carefully chosen to maintain a semblance of deference.

"Mark my words, I shall return bearing my uncle's head ensconced within a bloodstained sack, a fitting tribute for you, my Lady," he pronounced, with certainty and unabashed arrogance. In response, you narrowed your gaze, choosing to forsake any further attempt to dissuade him.

"Lady Y/N, I submit that you should accompany Prince Aemond, for it is wiser to traverse this treacherous path with a stalwart companion, who also happens to possess a fierce dragon. And since he spurns aid from Storm's End or his younger brother, it behooves us to act prudently," Lord Jasper proffered.

“My lords, do not misconstrue my decision as an act of cowardice. I will not forsake my post, leaving the Queen Dowager and Queen Haleana vulnerable to the machinations of their adversaries," you proclaimed.

"Fear not, for valiant men stand ready to safeguard them against any who would bring them harm. Knights capable of shielding them from all danger," He continued.

At this juncture, Alicent seized the opportunity to voice her own retort. "No knight can lay claim to greater valor or loyalty than our Lady Y/N," she admonished Lord Jasper. The men within the chamber exchanged furtive glances, and Lord Wylde, could not mask his sense of humiliation.

"'Twas naught but a humble suggestion, Your Grace, yet I shall yield to your wisdom," he conceded with an air of acquiescence.

"Come morrow, I’ll depart," Aemond declared.

~~~~~

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[vakarianshepard]

N7 Day 5- Turians

So I was thinking about this post and getting emotional about Garrus in ME2 again, and thought why not turn my thoughts into a meta for day 5 lol

Just. . . he is so young and idealistic in ME1, and when Shepard finds him again in 2, he is so, so tired and beaten. Omega has all but crushed that passion, fire, and belief with his perceived failure as Archangel. In the first conversation in the battery, where he says, “I gave them hope,” you hear the remnants of that idealism, quickly followed by, ". . . and now they're dead. Shows what I know." He sounds devastated and defeated.

Some people like to bring up that he “never questions Shepard” as superficial proof that he’s just a yes man or a bad leader, which is patently untrue. In ME1, he repeatedly asks Shepard about her reasoning, her motives, and her plan for catching Saren. He doesn’t argue or undermine her, because she’s his commanding officer. It’s about respect. He’s extremely intelligent and passionate. He looks up to Shepard and wants to learn from her.

But if you go back to the conversation in the battery—he says, “I can’t exactly doubt your judgment. Not after I got my own squad killed.” At the beginning of ME2, his confidence is shattered. He trusts Shepard, of course; he knows she wouldn't work for Cerberus without a damn good reason, but there's more to it than that. He doesn't feel like he's good enough to question her. What if he's wrong again? He's not blindly supporting her; he's leaning on one of the only people in the galaxy he knows he can trust at a very vulnerable point in his life.

Following Sidonis’ betrayal, losing his entire team; he fully realizes the cost of leadership and trusting the wrong person. In turian culture, after all, it’s not the one who makes the “mistake” who bears the blame—it’s their leader. Garrus sees himself as solely accountable for the deaths of his friends--people who trusted him. In the email Nalah Butler sends Shepard, she tells her that Garrus took every shot fired at his team as a personal failure. She goes on to say that her husband was very proud of the work he did with Garrus, and asks Shepard to help him stop blaming himself.

When he talks about not "being able" to doubt Shepard, he is coming from a place of grief and survivor's guilt. He acknowledges that he didn't know as much as he thought; he's deferring to her for guidance. He was so desperate to do good, however, the brutality of Omega and the larger galaxy thoroughly disillusioned him. Harkin asks him if the Terminus Systems "changed him," to which Garrus replies, "No, but Sidonis opened my eyes." Later in the car, on the way to meet Sidonis, when Shepard tells Garrus he's acting differently; he vehemently denies this stating, "Really? I've always hated injustice. . ." It sounds more like Garrus is trying to convince himself that he can do this. Shepard asks if he's sure, and he doesn't say he wants to; he says he has to. 

Either way she chooses to act, Shepard’s assistance and support in dealing with Sidonis is key to Garrus regaining his confidence and growing into the excellent leader he always had the potential to be. So far, he has been allowing his anger, his grief, and his quest for vengeance consume him--to his detriment. Especially if Shepard encourages him to spare Sidonis--that is, by allowing Garrus to hear him out--she helps him not only get closure for Omega and the loss of his team, but also shows him a new perspective on justice and how it relates to the shades of gray, which we can see that he carries with him into ME3. 

Following his loyalty mission, Garrus’ outlook changes dramatically. He has gotten closure for his team, one way or another. When Sidonis is spared and Garrus gets to hear the whole story: Sidonis’ betrayal haunts him too. It was easier for Garrus to imagine that his friend sold him out for pure selfishness and personal gain; being forced to confront the fact that it was not a simple answer--that Sidonis didn’t want to do it--causes Garrus to reevaluate his worldview entirely. 

He finally admits to Shepard what he had been struggling with the entire time: dealing with shades of gray. The way he explains his motives, i.e. his line about “not seeing the point in staying quiet and polite when the galaxy is at stake,” showcases a more reflective side of Garrus and indicates his clarity. With his previous experience and renewed confidence Garrus is obviously a perfect choice to lead one or both of the fire teams; I personally like to choose him for both, as I feel it demonstrates Shepard’s absolute faith in his abilities from a meta perspective. Shepard’s steadfast support enables him to build on the leadership skills he already had, setting him up well for his role as an integral part of both the Reaper War and Shepard’s personal support system.

[brandwhorestarscream]

angst w/ confort + good end! idw starbee

Angst for the baby asks? That can only mean one thing >:3

Starscream's arguably one of the most stressed out people on Cybertron, with the weight of the world baring down on his shoulders. He has an entire planet to run and a jam packed scheduled all day, every day, without fail. He rarely gets as much recharge as he should. Same goes for refueling. He's run ragged on the daily and his personal medic warns him again and again that he really needs to start taking better care of himself or he's going to burn out. Starscream is well aware, he just doesn't care. He's worked himself raw plenty of times before under Megatron's constant demands and abuse, he'll do it again for the sake of Cybertron and he won't breathe a word of complaint where anyone can hear. Even Bee can't convince him to take it easy.

Then, out of nowhere in the middle of a meeting, Starscream gets strangely lightheaded. One of his audials starts ringing. The room tilts sideways and the only reason he doesn't hit the floor when he suddenly collapses is because Windblade was quick enough to catch him. His spark is pulsing wildly in his chassis and suddenly there's sharp, abhorrent pain in his abdomen. Someone yells for a doctor, and by the time they arrive the poor seeker is on the floor, vents heaving with a concerning amount of energon gushing out from behind his panel straight from his valve.

The diagnosis is jarring, a sudden, violent miscarriage due to perpetual exhaustion and undereating: his body just couldn't support the infant spark anymore and voided his gestation tank when the sparkling reabsorbed.

It's all a huge shock, because Starscream didn't know he was expecting. He'd had no symptoms--at least, not any that he'd noticed--and his system was so swamped and stressed it never pinged him to let him know. The medic gives the order to cancel the rest of his appointments because if he doesn't rest right now he'll drop dead (not really but they've had it with Starscream neglecting his health).

Poor Star is in shock. He's still in a lot of pain, his body still working through dismantling the beginnings of the body and purging it, his spark aching from the zap of the little one remerging with him. His mind is a mess.

He was carrying. Was. Past tense. He's not anymore. He had no idea, he... there was a baby inside him, a tiny fragile life and now they're just. Not there anymore. Its a weird mix of emotions... he's angry, he's sad, he's confused. He doesn't know how to feel. Grief at their loss? He never got a chance to love them, never got to hear the exciting news and react or share it with the sire. It feels like an enormous failure, on his part... he's snuffed countless sparks with his servos and his weapons, but this feels different. Like- Like a betrayal. He doesn't especially want sparklings but they were there and they were relying on him and they were his... and now, they'll never get to exist. They'll never be born, their future will never come to pass. He's robbed them of their life before it could even begin, and something about that leaves a sour, putrid taste in his mouth.

Of coruse, Bumblebee assures him that it's not his fault. Reabsorptions just happen sometimes, they can't be predicted and they're no one's fault. Even if he was eating and sleeping well, even if he wasn't so stressed with work, it still could've happened. Their sparkling didn't suffer, they weren't in any pain, and beating himself up over it won't do any good. He tries to make himself available as much as he can, to support him however he needs. Starscream is a very private person and he struggles with vulnerability even with his partner, so he asks Bee to just give him space. Please. Just let him work through this alone, let him grieve by himself and grapple with his feelings. Bee grants him that, because he knows pushing the matter will just back the poor seeker into a corner and make him bottle it up forever.

Going forward, they don't really talk about it at all. There's nothing at all for a grave or any sort of memorial. They don't know if there were multiple sparklings, they don't know what their names would've been, and Starscream doesn't want to dwell on it. It puts him dangerously close to tears and he does not want to cry over this period of his life. He's cried enough. It's fine.

(He is not fine but he's the type to deny, repress, and avoid. This is how he copes)

It's probably a long, long time before their rainbow baby arrives. Starscream'a sex drive was already in the gutter from the constant overwork and exhaustion, but after his miscarriage he becomes almost squeamish about it. He doesn't want to risk kindling again, even with the contraceptives they were using. He's so afraid of losing another baby, terrified that this time he'll actually know about them beforehand and having them slip away will shatter him. Intimacy becomes a very rare thing between the two of them, and when the medic finds the blip of a newspark at one of his routine check up, he panics. Calls Bumblebee in a rush, practically hyperventilating. He can't do this, not again, he doesn't want to lose another one Bee help me what do I do-

The expectant parents have a long, difficult conversation with the doctor. Starscream is so afraid of losing another one that they discuss a potential termination. He'd rather nip it in the bud than wait and get hurt again if another loss is imminent. But thankfully, it's not. Medic draws up proper health plans for carriers of his frame type and age range, and tailors it to fit his specific patient. Of course, miscarriage is always a possibility, but they can take steps to minimize the risk. If Starscream truly wants to terminate they'll respect his decision, but if his primary goal is avoiding another sparkbreaking loss, they can all do their best to make that dream a reality. The chance of a miscarriage get less and less the further a carrying cycle progresses, after all, and after almost two hours of statistics and planning and fact-checking, Starscream agrees to go through with it. To- To just try, to see if they can make it out of the first trimester safely.

Of course, they do! He follows his doctor's instructions religiously and keeps a low profile so no one knows he's expecting: the last thing he needs is to embolden any potential assassins with his newly delicate condition. The bitties are born safely to his and Bumblebee’s joy, three precious seekerlings. The eldest of whom is a soft blue one they name Rainglow, as a tribute to these triplets being their beloved rainbow babies 💖

[melandrops]

The Magnus Archives, as told through the song Melancholy Man by the Moody Blues

Jon Sims, a man doomed by the narrative from the start. At the beginning of the end, he Knows all but Understands very little. As he trudges through the barren wasteland of the apocalypse, his failures cling to him like tree sap.

Martin has been through life event after life event, each more tragic than the last. By the time Peter comes to him he doesn't even have the energy to grieve what he knows will be his own demise. Holed up in Peter's office, Martin can do nothing but watch the person he (used to) love struggle as monsters throw themselves at Jon. He puts his head down and keeps working. This is what he can be good for.

The panopticon begins to crumble and there stand two broken, abused men who have been to hell and back. Their world has fallen to pieces around them and it only gets worse from there. Martin looks on in devastation as the love of his life becomes a god and can't help but feel true rage. They didn't ask for this.

The last thought Jon has before he dies is of the people he used to call friends. Tim, Sasha and Martin, the best people he's ever known. The people he clings onto his humanity with increasing desperation for. He can remember the way Tim spat vile curses at him, the way he said "I don't forgive you," right before he died. Jon is and always has been convinced that he doesn't deserve forgiveness. His friends were victims (so was he) and deserved better.

In the split second before Jon and Martin die, they see into the thousands of other universes before them. They see a world where they met as anyone else does, and fall in love not through trauma but through the sweet nerves of first and second dates. Perhaps there is a world where Martin's mum was never sick, and Jon never picked up that book. There are versions of Jon and Martin who are happy, who have seen difficulty but never anything like the life-ending trauma of what they've been through. They are the same people, to be sure, but the life they live is so alien to the two men who lay dying in the ruins of the panopticon.

Loss after loss after loss. Betrayal and grief and suffering one after the other. A body that doesn't feel like his own anymore. Skin that burns when he thinks about the cool feeling of lotion. Dead bodies of the people he tried to protect lay behind him as he walks forward. The dread of knowing that his every move has been choreographed. What good is knowledge and sight without the ability to use it to protect people? When the Oracle speaks a prophecy, knowing it does not make it stoppable.

Jon hopes and prays that history will be kind to him. Or at the very least, forgetful. He hopes that the people who tell his story will understand how hard he tried to be good. To do right. He hopes that they will see his wrongdoings, his horrific crimes and have the compassion to see him as someone who just wanted to be free. He hopes that they will believe him if he ever has the chance to say he never wanted any of this.

Jon and Martin were both doomed from the start. They never had a choice but to fail. Sometimes, in quiet nights, they hold each other and grieve. Their fear is a black hole in their chests, eating up all that is good in their lives. They ache for what could have been. But it could never have gone any other way.

[trishacollins]

So I had a star wars fragment pop into my head, and I had to write it down to get it down. It won’t become an actual story so here’s the basics.

It goes like this when Anakin Skywalker is knighted, Depa Billaba has a vision so intense that she is unconscious for three days.

 When she wakes up, she tells her former master her vision. That the revelation of a Sith Master will be a trap that will nearly extinguish the Jedi forever.

 It could have ended there, save for one thing: Mace has heard this vision before, from Sifo Dais. He could dismiss it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches out to Jocasta Nu and requests her advice.

 There are two paths, two choices the elders could make. In one universe, one path, the elders do as they always do. They log the vision, they put it in the archives. They forget until Mace Windu lies dying after confronting Palpatine. Dead, murdered at the hands of Anakin Skywalker. The order sputters, the flame that has lit the galaxy for thousands of years gutters and almost goes out.

 In another, Jocasta Nu proposes a simple idea: What if we take the vision at its face?

 And so they prepared. Prepare and practice evacuating the temple, with the secret held tight between the three of them. Hidden behind the most logical of cautions. The separatists favor planting bombs, what if one was discovered at the temple?  

 Every seven months, the temple empties, the young charges are safely stored on the ship, the archives and the elderly masters too old to fight vanish. The ship they use takes two jumps, and then they return.

 If a few more younglings than normal make their way to Ilium for kyber…well. Those reports are simply never turned in. They are not ready to build their lightsabers yet.

 It’s a drill, a very common one, that the students are not inclined to discuss. It’s the same as the emergency atmospheric pressure loss drills, timed and corrected.

 It becomes part of the temple culture.

 So when Anakin Skywalker comes to the masters and tells them of what Palpatine has told him, Mace makes two calls. One to his old Padawan and one to Jocasta Nu.

 Depa sends out a fallback alert to active Jedi and Padawan pairs, and Jocasta – in an hour, before they have made it to the senate building, the Jedi are gone.

 The halls are empty when Order 66 is heard. When the troopers and Skywalker arrive, there is nothing but ghosts and echoes to be found.

 Some still die. Masters unwilling or unable to leave their soldiers. But many still more survive. The youngest to fall is sixteen, young and confident.

 The children are safe.

 Mace joins the force with this in his mind, Depa’s mind touching his as he fades away. He joins Qui-Gon in watching, waiting as the world unfolds around them. The shatter point is so exquisitely painful that only the steady, calming beat of the children living keeps him from losing himself in the force.

 Depa is with Yoda to receive an injured and tormented Obi-Wan and a dying Padme. Depa, who recognizes a force bond without looking, cuts it so neatly that Palpatine at the other end still believes her to be dead.

 Anakin – awakening – feels the cut-off part of him, the loss, the empty hole where his wife used to be, and mourns. His failure hangs heavy on him. The darkness swirls around him. His fall is deep, but perhaps not so deep as it was wished.

 Padme – awakening – is told her husband died after his betrayal. She mourns him, and thinks she may be the last person in the galaxy that does. – She is wrong, for Obi-Wan’s grief rises and falls with every breath, an agony of confusion that tries to drown him.

 Palpatine scours the galaxy for the Jedi – he finds some, and Vader finds others. But they are gone, far into the unknown reaches, prepared to lick their wounds and survive for the moment.

 Padme is invited to join them, but refuses. A choice is still made. A daughter, Leia, placed into the arms of Bail Organa. A son, Luke, cradled against her chest as her heart breaks. She joins Obi-Wan on Tatooine. Joins her brother and sister-in-law. There’s still a funeral. There’s still a grave. But she’s not in it.

 It’s hard work, and the suns are not kind. She feels she looks nothing like herself by the time Luke takes his first wobbly steps into the main area of the farm. They’re all smiling, and she lets herself be *home* for a little while. Just the wife of a dead free man, the mother of the first freeborn Skywalker. A moisture farmer.  

 Nothing more, nothing less.

 But when Bail calls, desperate for help to find Leia. She must go. She must go with him to save her daughter.

 Which leads to a moment, a shatter point.

 A pistol in hand, pointed at a monster, her child pushed behind her and rage so hot it could rival the suns. “Stop.” Is a command, not a request.

 The hulking black monster that had been about to snuff the life out of her Jedi protector freezes, and for a moment there is only silence. Even the uneven, mechanical sound of his breathing stops. Leia pushes close behind her, Obi-Wan shudders on the ground. “Don’t-go!” Obi-Wan calls, begging her. The weight of something terrible in his voice.

 Padme can’t move, can’t step away from Obi-Wan. He is the last person she has. The last tie to her old life.

 “Go! Please!” Obi-Wan is trying to get up, clearly in a massive amount of pain.

 But trying, flames flickering on his skin. “Back up.” She orders the hulking creature. Sith, she presumes. Palpatine’s new lapdog. How much and how little has changed in the past ten years.

 The Sith obeys, staring at her. She walks sideways to Obi-Wan, keeping Leia behind him, keeping her gun trained on the creature. She offers him a hand, though he outweighs her. He’s gasping in pain as he grasps it, letting her pull him to his feet.

 Obi-Wan is unsteady, but mobile. “Leia, help him.”

 “But-“

 She gives her daughter a look, and though another mother has mothered her, the look is apparently universal, and Leia puts an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist.

 “Padme.” The hulking Sith wheezes.

 She grimaces at the recognition and Obi-Wan flinches again. “Padme-“

 She shakes her head. “Go.”

 “Padme.” He repeats, urgent.

 “I said, go. We’re all leaving this place.” She snaps, and the hulking figure flinches.

 Someone fires, it’s not her, but it never reaches her either. The scream of the hulking black figure shudders through the air and the bolt is launched back the way It came with a below of fury.

 They escape in the resulting chaos of the Sith turning on his own forces, cutting through his own soldiers. There isn’t time for an explanation until much later, hidden away.

 She can’t cry, or she’ll never stop.

[witchofthesouls]

You are called the Decaying King -an epitaph well-earned for your long years (decades, centuries, eons) upon the Twilight Throne.

Your word is law, and reality rends itself apart to bend to your very will.

With a mere utterance, you have ended well-trenched dynasties and strangled rebellions in the very cradle of inception. With a whisper, entire generations are culled from elder to infant. With a command, nature is at your bidding; you direct earthquakes and tsunamis, flash floods and mudslides, tornados and cyclones and firestorms. Nothing is truly safe from your touch, directly or indirectly.

You have caused great disturbances and ended wars without raising your armies. You have set pests and disease upon fields and water sources to starve countless, subtly shifted the landscape until it disrupted trade routes, allowed raiders to steal and plunder in treacherous territories to destabilize and sabotage their holdings.

Tyrant is what you're called in the dark, but even shadows bring you their secrets.

A younger you that's fresh to the thone and aching from loss would have thrown spectacular feasts, celebrating the triumphs and dining with all those who managed to survive. You would have sung to the stars to come out of their slumber to dance and joined in the revelry when the Levithian is sighted upon the shore.

A younger you that's still fixing yourself to the Twilight Throne by painstakingly carved pieces after centuries of governing would have raged. Betrayal eating your insides as you seethed at the audacity of these cowardly, fragmented things. They have forgotten the immense cruelties and unforgivable sins of their masters from before. They are the descendants of the people who stood by your side, and the world was remade. You wouldn't have harmed them directly (love still staying your hand because they haven't turned traitors) but nor would you have helped. You would have turned your eyes away and allowed the never-ending prosperity of their lineages to run dry, the protections to fall as no one replenishes them as they fall prey to the natural phenomena of the land.

The punishment for forgetting their ancestors' (your friends') memories is to stand on their own without the benefit of their bestowed gifts. To be beloved but no longer blessed.

You're no longer young. You haven't been for a long, long time. The words wash over you to settle in your hollow heart.

Tyrant is what you're called.

But you know yourself to be benevolent -there are still a few horrors beyond your sanity, even as your morals had shifted like a wave breaking upon the shore, changing with every passing year, decade, century, millennia.

It's enough.

_______

Your only companion constantly sleeps. No longer able to wake itself up, still mourning for its last wielder and creator, and waiting for their return.

You wait as well.

You sit in a carefully curated garden of your own making. The trees stand guard, steadfast in their duties as they spread countless branches and thick foilage to hide you from the hungry, greedy eyes of the court. Amidst all the greenery and bright colors, here lays your companion's resting place: a well-tended pond.

You don't remember what it looks like, but that's not a failure of your long memory, it's the weapon's own doing. Secretive and loyal, to the very end.

You do remember the sword's voice. The last time, it drifted back to the surface -melancholic with a lifetime of grief etched upon its soul.

The pond doesn't ripple. Still. Silent as a grave. Not even flowers turn their faces here, muted and sliding in a different direction to give the weapon a sense of privacy.

You don't speak, careful not to break the ever-constant stillness. Your frail bird-hollow bones don't splinter further, paper-thin skin doesn't peel away with flaking strands of muscle, the rattle that shakes the remains of your shivered lungs calms, the roots of the heavy crown eases its strangehold within you, and even the constantly oozing wounds of putrid, blackened ichor sluggishly slows down in this hallowed space.

Perhaps it's the closest thing to a quiet benediction you'll get for faithful, dedicated service.

(You are nothing but a pale imitation of true glory. Nothing but a god-shaped hole. Hallow and hollow.)

______

The Decaying King is what you're called, and it's a fitting epitaph.

You have held the Twilight Throne for countless ages out of a vow you refused to forget, even when you are the last one to survive, to remember.

You have not wavered. Steadfast and consistent, even everything else changes. You remain as your body slowly perishes, and not even the most powerful enchantments could hide your feebleness, nor the grand gardenscapes could mask the onset of death.

In the immeasurable distance that divides the realms, your god dreams dreamlessly in the space-between-spaces, a lonely haunting whale-song calls out to wake the Dreamless Dreamer.

One day, your god will awaken and will return to claim their rightful place.

One day, you will force your feeble, rotting body to crouch down to press against salt-crusted armor and blood-soaked, muddy feet. You will be blessed by the riotous noise of their great, resplendent beast that matches the ravenous fury of the Sun itself, and the mourning sword will put away its grief, shattering your glass bones with its ever-pounding war-chant. Their faceless visage, haloed in blue-white flames and held by iron spikes and rainbow-sheened nacre, will burn you away to ash and dust as they give you a kiss of mercy.

For what is a mortal soul to one that walked the very beginning of Creation? What are wine and flowers to the divine might of the one that holds the world's love? What are you to the one called Carnage, who is both Mother and Father to all and will be?

You wait, exhausted, fragmented, and drained to the very dregs. Ever hopeful and ever faithful.

The divine right of kings but it's a curse

[drkarenhawk]

Divorce: Navigating the Emotional and Psychological Challenges with Dr. Karen Hawk’s Guidance

Divorce is a life-altering experience that can bring intense emotional, psychological, and logistical challenges. For individuals and families, the process of ending a marriage can stir up a wide range of feelings, from sadness and grief to anger and relief. Whether it’s an amicable separation or a contentious divorce, the dissolution of a marriage represents the end of a significant chapter in life, and the journey forward can be complex and difficult.

Dr. Karen Hawk, a clinical psychologist in Arizona, provides compassionate counseling for individuals and families going through divorce. Her expertise helps people manage the emotional turmoil, heal from the psychological impact, and develop coping strategies to move forward. Dr. Hawk’s approach is tailored to the specific needs of her clients, whether they are in the midst of a divorce, preparing for separation, or working through the aftermath.

The Emotional Impact of Divorce

Divorce is often described as one of the most stressful events a person can experience, second only to the death of a loved one. It is a process that touches every part of life—relationships, identity, finances, and even one’s sense of purpose. The emotional toll of divorce can vary from person to person, but common feelings include:

Grief and loss: The end of a marriage is the loss of a significant relationship, often one that individuals envisioned lasting a lifetime. Many people grieve not only the relationship but also the future they had planned with their partner.

Anger and betrayal: Divorce can bring up feelings of anger, especially if there has been infidelity, dishonesty, or other forms of betrayal. The sense of being wronged or let down by a spouse can fuel intense emotional reactions.

Fear and anxiety: The uncertainty of life after divorce can create feelings of fear and anxiety, particularly about financial stability, living arrangements, and future relationships. People may worry about how they will cope on their own or how the divorce will affect their children.

Relief: For some individuals, especially those coming out of toxic or unhappy marriages, divorce can bring a sense of relief and liberation. Ending a difficult relationship may feel like an opportunity to start fresh and reclaim one’s independence.

Guilt and shame: Many people feel guilt or shame after a divorce, either because they view the dissolution of the marriage as a personal failure or because they feel responsible for hurting their partner or children. These emotions can complicate the healing process.

Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona recognizes that each individual’s emotional response to divorce is unique. She helps clients identify and process their emotions, offering support through every stage of the divorce journey.

Coping with the Psychological Effects of Divorce

The psychological impact of divorce can be profound, affecting not only mental health but also one’s sense of self. Divorce can lead to feelings of depression, anxiety, and low self-esteem, particularly if the separation was unexpected or accompanied by significant conflict. Individuals may struggle with questions of identity, asking themselves, “Who am I without my partner?” or “What does my future look like now?”

1. Depression and AnxietyFeelings of sadness, loneliness, and anxiety are common in the aftermath of a divorce. Depression can set in as individuals mourn the loss of the relationship and the life they had envisioned. Anxiety may arise as they face an uncertain future, navigating new responsibilities and challenges.

Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona provides therapeutic support for individuals experiencing depression and anxiety as a result of divorce. She offers tools to help them manage these emotions and develop coping mechanisms to regain a sense of stability and control. By working through these feelings in a supportive environment, individuals can find hope and clarity in the midst of the emotional storm.

2. Loss of Identity and Self-WorthDivorce can cause individuals to question their sense of self, particularly if their identity was closely tied to their role as a spouse or partner. After years of sharing a life with someone else, it can be difficult to redefine oneself as an individual. This loss of identity can lead to feelings of confusion, inadequacy, and low self-worth.

Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona works with clients to help them rediscover their sense of self and rebuild their self-esteem. She encourages self-exploration and personal growth, guiding individuals to find fulfillment in their own pursuits and strengths. By focusing on self-empowerment, Dr. Hawk helps clients embrace their independence and begin to chart a new path forward.

3. Emotional Healing and ForgivenessOne of the most important steps in the healing process is letting go of resentment, anger, and guilt. Divorce can leave emotional scars, especially if the separation was marked by conflict or betrayal. Holding onto these negative emotions can prevent individuals from moving forward and finding peace.

Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona emphasizes the importance of emotional healing and forgiveness, both for oneself and one’s ex-partner. She helps clients work through their anger and pain, teaching them how to release these feelings in a healthy way. By fostering forgiveness and emotional closure, Dr. Hawk enables her clients to move on from the past and look toward the future with hope and optimism.

The Role of Counseling in Navigating Divorce

For many individuals, divorce is a period of immense change and upheaval. Counseling offers a safe space to process the emotional and psychological challenges that arise during this time. Dr. Hawk’s approach to counseling is client-centered, focusing on the unique needs and goals of each person. Her services can benefit individuals in various stages of divorce:

1. Pre-Divorce Counseling Before a couple officially decides to divorce, they may seek counseling to explore their options and assess whether reconciliation is possible. Dr Karen Hawk psychologist provides a neutral, non-judgmental space where couples can discuss their concerns, feelings, and desires. For some couples, counseling may lead to a decision to work on the marriage, while for others, it can help them prepare for an amicable separation.

2. Counseling During DivorceThe legal and emotional aspects of divorce can be overwhelming, particularly when conflict is involved. Dr. Hawk offers support for individuals navigating the divorce process, helping them manage stress, make informed decisions, and communicate effectively with their ex-partner. Her guidance can be especially helpful in high-conflict divorces or when children are involved.

3. Post-Divorce Counseling After the divorce is finalized, individuals may continue to face emotional and psychological challenges as they adjust to their new reality. Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona helps clients rebuild their lives after divorce, offering support as they navigate co-parenting, financial independence, and the complexities of starting over. Post-divorce counseling can be a valuable tool in healing and moving forward with confidence.

Divorce and Its Impact on Families

Divorce not only affects the individuals involved but also has a significant impact on the family unit, particularly children. Children often struggle to understand the reasons for the divorce and may experience feelings of confusion, sadness, anger, or guilt. They may worry about their future, fear losing a relationship with one of their parents, or blame themselves for the separation.

Dr. Hawk provides family counseling to help parents and children navigate the challenges of divorce. She emphasizes the importance of clear communication, emotional support, and stability for children during this time of change. By helping parents co-parent effectively and providing a safe space for children to express their feelings, Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona fosters healthy family dynamics in the wake of divorce.

Rebuilding Life After Divorce

While divorce can feel like the end of a chapter, it also marks the beginning of a new one. Dr. Hawk helps individuals embrace this new phase of life with hope and resilience. She encourages personal growth and self-discovery, helping clients set new goals, pursue their passions, and build fulfilling relationships.

1. Rediscovering IndependenceFor many people, divorce is an opportunity to rediscover their independence and focus on themselves. Whether it’s pursuing a new career, exploring hobbies, or forming new friendships, this period of life can be one of self-empowerment and transformation.

Dr. Hawk works with clients to help them embrace this new chapter with confidence. By focusing on self-care, personal development, and emotional healing, she empowers individuals to rebuild their lives on their own terms.

2. Forming Healthy RelationshipsOne of the challenges individuals face after divorce is the fear of entering into new relationships. Past experiences of betrayal, hurt, or conflict may make it difficult to trust again or believe in the possibility of a healthy relationship.

Dr Karen Hawk psychologist Arizona helps individuals work through these fears and develop the emotional tools needed to form healthy, fulfilling relationships in the future. She emphasizes the importance of setting boundaries, effective communication, and self-awareness in building strong, supportive partnerships.

Conclusion

Divorce is a complex and emotionally charged experience, but with the right support, individuals and families can navigate this challenging time and emerge stronger. Dr. Karen Hawk’s compassionate counseling provides individuals in Arizona with the tools they need to cope with the emotional, psychological, and logistical challenges of divorce. By offering a safe, non-judgmental space for healing and personal growth, Dr. Hawk helps her clients move forward with resilience, hope, and confidence.

Whether you are considering divorce, in the midst of the process, or navigating life after separation, Dr. Hawk offers the guidance and support needed to heal and rebuild. Through her compassionate approach to counseling, she empowers individuals to rediscover their sense of self, embrace their independence, and create a future filled with possibility.

[thefoldedbird]

Orla Lore - Much Ado about Magic (8)

OC Ask Prompt (2)

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

Orla has a bad habit of self-isolating and letting her bad thoughts spiral when bad things happen. It's a terrible trait. Orla has always been involved in a large community in some form or another so isolation is not something she deals with readily.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Yes and yes. Orla has absolutely acted in her own interest over the interest and behest of others. Of course, the reverse is also true. Unfortunately a lot of these snap decisions are made in battle and leave others struggling to keep up with switching plans. People tend to leave her to fend for herself now rather than deal with it.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

Several times, though over the years it's become increasingly difficult to imprison her for any meaningful length of time. In the early days it would definitely scare and traumatize her. She's been thrown in lockup for so many reasons. Lockup alone does not scare her, it's what people try to do to you when you're in a cage, alone, and vulnerable. As for how she gets out, nowadays magic. Over the years Orla's learned to pick locks but usually it's magic.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

One of Orla's largest breaks was during Shadowlands. She was tortured in Revendreth, forced to revive Garrosh at her patron's will, Vol'jin agreed to be reincarnated and then began that process without saying goodbye, and then Anduin disappeared into the Shadowlands without saying goodbye. This all happened within the span of like a week or so. She was a mess afterwards. It took her months to recover. During this they were like a catatonic zombie. Unable to feel or do much more than experience rage and then pass out in a dead sleep. Zalazane is probably the only one to see her entirely without the mask when he visited her a few months into this. She didn't have the energy to wear it.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

To go home. To see their family again. She used to mention it often but doesn't as much anymore. Now it comes up only every so often, usually as a reminder to her fleeting time with these people. Orla would do anything. She does end up going to every length to fulfill it but it doesn't always have the consequences she imagined.

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

She was assigned a mission and Revendreth and botched it entirely leading to her capture and subsequent torture. To aid her, her patron made the choice to make her final revival task Garrosh of all people. Garrosh managed to escape Revendreth and is wandering back in the land of the living. Unfortunately, it's become a huge ongoing moral dilemma.

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Loss. Orla is not good at handling that kind of harsh change. It gets to her. It bothers her and it doesn't go away. Grief is not something she handles well at almost any level. When confronted with her fears Orla tends to isolate and spiral. It is incredibly unhealthy. She tries to do too much on her own and ends up hurting herself in the process. To the extent that it can influence her actions there really isn't any sort of "hiding it" to be done.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

One of the big end game questions is does Orla even want to go home? She has a life here now. A family. Can she accept giving it up for her original world. What happens when she goes back to Earth. Is that it? No more Azeroth? Screw all the friends she made? There is nothing she can do to find out other than actually doing it either. There are no steps she can take. Her patron does not answer her and even if they could there is no documented case of someone in her situation ever going back and forth. She is aware, she just tries not to think about it. A bridge to cross later and all that.

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

Very early on she started processing that her predicament would likely take years to overcome and it caused a lot of hatred in her heart. For a while she would act out or generally be rude and aggressively towards people. As she was being sponsored by the Stormwind Royal Family at the time at Malto's request a lot of this behavior fell back on Anduin. She feels very guilty about the amount of shit he had to put up with or dig her out of due to her outbursts but he kindly doesn't hold it against her. He lost his entire family as well and feels a sort of kinship with her situation. Secretly he never got to act out like that so seeing her do it is weirdly cathartic for him, not that he would ever admit this. She has apologized many times and he has graciously accepted it every time but insists it's in the past and no apologies are necessary.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Lying. Truly hates it. She has to do it more and more in order to keep her origins a secret but finds it difficult to keep track of it all.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

Yes actually, only one bad breakup with a boy a few months before Azeroth. His name was Gabriel and he did not take the break-up well. Dude broke into her apartment and trashed the place. It was a whole "thing" and the police were briefly involved.

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

Orla hides her tattoos since there's a lot of them and the general populace of Stormwind disapproves of them. It's less bothersome to just cover them up. Other than that she tries to keep the fact she's from Earth a secret. Usually she implies she from a village no one's ever heard of and her patron "refuses to let her discuss its name" until she's completed all her tasks.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

Nah, she's fairly chill now that she's a little stronger. A few people feel as though she owes them for some reason or another but generally don't have the pull to do anything about it.

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

A mask of confidence more often than not. She's learned to act on what she believes is good and right but knows her opinions aren't always shared. Her loved ones and close friends have seen beneath this façade as she's openly shared it before.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

She can't go home and it is unwise to talk about it honestly with anyone other than those closest to her. She isn't able to check in on her family, friends, or her home. She lived alone in an apartment. Is all her stuff just gone now? What about her family? Are they okay? Do they think she's dead? She's truly afraid she will never be able to go home.

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

She is and she embraces it for better or worse. Get her angry enough or hurt someone she loves and she doesn't try to reign herself in anymore. She will quite literally morph into a monstrous creature with the single-minded effort of harming them back, of getting even and damn any who get in her way. She's a giant monster and as far as she's concerned that's all someone should need to see to know it's time to get out of her way. It is not terribly difficult to push her to this point if you know what buttons to press. Her temper flares quite bright though rarely for very long. She's been known to cause quite the sum of collateral damages.

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Her normal nightmares are often about being chased by something she's powerless to stop or loss to the point of being totally alone. However certain loa she's pissed off have sent her nightmares of their own brewing so it varies. She usually tells people. That's the kind of thing that will bother her to the point of having to talk about it.

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

Orla's patron got bored of her once and tried to summon a different Seraph who might be more entertaining. This inadvertently put Orla on the radar of several powerful entities that had a bone to pick with her patron. So since Orla wasn't under her patron's protection anymore she was stolen away and tortured. It took months for the new seraph that was summoned to die and only then did her patron notice and take steps to remove her from their clutches. Orla has a high pain tolerance, but that broke her for months.

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

She has no idea how strong she is. None. Orla puts on a damn good act but she quite literally could not tell you where her limits lie and she's terrified if she admits this that steps will be taken to neutralize her entirely. She's also just terrified of her own abilities and the fact that she is still able to lose control of them, just to a much lesser degree.

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themselves? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Orla is fairly comfortable. The worst version of herself is a version that cannot and will not learn about the world whether than be in their control or not. So long as she is learning and growing and getting stronger she continues to be comfortable with the person she has become. Perhaps this stems from the fear of being left behind and forgotten but she hasn't really grappled with that yet.

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Tortured, yes. Torture someone else? No. Perhaps send someone else to do it, but not when she's within earshot. The sound of screams and begging makes her physically ill. She doesn't actually have an issue with hurting people if she's decided they deserve it, it's quite literally just the screaming that gets to her.

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Physically, little to no reaction. She has a boggling amount of defenses to make sure physical ailments do not stop her to the point that it's almost a horror show. Now, those defenses can be disabled but it would take more than most could handle. She has been extensively tortured before. Mental and emotional wounds hit her harder than any physical wound as there's very nearly no physical ailment she can't recover from. At least, not anymore.

[wacem]

Beautifully put. As a church-going man, James absolutely *would* go to Carson for support and counseling. I know I'd go to my pastor for guidance through grief if I lost my spouse and kids in a fire (provided I didn't off myself first; that's the absolute sum of all fears right there. Hard to picture having anything left to live for after that). Very interesting parallels you've made with John's failure to ever peg Carver as the problem, except for maybe *mayyybe* at the bitter end, if he's the only one left to witness Mary's trial with Andrew, and you make the right dialogue choices. Joseph never suspected Carver, either. For all the antagonism between the two during the pressing, Joseph never saw Carver as the threat. He spent his dying breath trying to convince Carver that *he* was the one being duped, trying to warn him against Mary. So you're really onto some solid storytelling meat there.

I imagine if James makes it through the first year after the fire without drinking himself to death or self-destructing in a similar fashion, it would probably be because of Carson's guidance. Carson might even help him get sober. I am a pretty big fan of the notion that the Car-lads aren't mustache-twirling villains through-and-through. In my headcanons, they start out as decent, if a bit hardnosed, men, but then there's always a catalyst that sets them down a horrid path, and as such, it's usually everything related to that specific part of their lives that becomes poison. Everything else remains as it was. Which is how the Car-lads are able to get away with so much before their communities catch on. The change from legitimately good spiritual leader to a cancer to his community is well-hidden. So to James, not being privy to the toxic part of his pastor's life, Carson would be a genuinely good and reliable guide. Between the loss of his family and the loss of the factory, Carson and his church would, in fact, be James' only real tether left with humanity. So I absolutely agree with you that they'd become close after that.

Which makes the big reveal that It Was Carson All Along the more profound a betrayal. Take that final tether and cut it. Kick that last crutch out from under James and watch him fall. He struggles not to start drinking again, but when Carson is out free while James' family is still dead, he loses it. He goes to confront Carson, taking his first drink in a long time to steel himself, and loses all control.

I love the idea of the sledgehammer being brought in as another parallel between incarnations. I reckon it'd be a grab-bag item rather than something brought for premeditated violence, just like it was for John. And whether Carson survives it or not (I tend towards not-- or at least not without becoming a vegetable or some other form of completely dependant invalid) I don't see James having the clarity of mind to cover his tracks. The anger burns itself out into earth-shattering grief, and he would shut down, completely broken, and not move until someone finds him and whatever's left of Carson.

That's how I see it going down, anyway.

And y'know, while I don't specifically remember a secret about Carson being acquitted, necessarily, I think I recall a newspaper article about his arrest where the charges were a big nothing burger. Something like teaching the occult to children. Not a single charge about child abuse. Teaching the occult is enough to get you defrocked, for sure, but like... is it even illegal? If it is, I doubt it carries much time. A couple years, max? I see a lot of other inferences coming out from his arrest amongst the community, but if he got any actual jail-time, it'd be a pittance when weighed against the Clarkes' destruction, and James would know it. But I'd have to go back and look at the secrets afresh to be sure what the exact deal was there. The secrets I've looked over with a fine-toothed comb are usually the ones pertaining to the 17th century, lol, so I'm a bit rusty on the more contemporary details.

"Anthony canon soul survivor" this, "What if Megan was soul survivor" that.

Okay but just imagine, James and Anne survivors. Just imagine.

[thevirginwitch]

Divination with Playing Cards

In response to this ask I got earlier today, I decided to do a quick deep-dive into my research materials about divining with playing cards vs tarot cards. Here's the research I found in Old Tradition Crafte, translated by Robin Artissan (2005):

"Meanings may be assigned to a pack of playing cards, to be spread out and read as omens so a situation may be given clarity and direction as well as understanding." This style of reading is claimed to have been used by witches in the 18th-late 19th century, according to Old Tradition Crafte translated by Robin Artissan (2005). According to Artissan, "It has been taken from those who practice the North Berwick Style of Crafte, but is not old enough to be the original system. The cards used in this system are ordinary playing cards. There is no mention of Tarot cards in this system."

Heart Suit

King - good-natured man, honest and inventive Queen - affectionate and loving woman Knave - loyal and trusting friend 10 - victory, gain, success, reward 9 - enterprise and money, good position 8 - physical pleasures (sex), affection, lust for life 7 - friendship, commerce, enterprise, successful business 6 - courtship, a generous person 5 - marriage, a gift, discovery 4 - trouble and jealousy, a friend who doubts you 3 - warning, sorrow, poverty and failure 2 - successful ideas that need plans and strategy Ace - home, comfort, celebration, but may turn to quarreling

Spade Suit

King - a man who has ambitions without ethics Queen - a woman who intrigues but is a false friend Knave - a man of treacherous reputation; he may be a man of law or authority 10 - warning, grief, strife, trouble 9 - sickness and misfortune, ruin, failure, death 8 - danger, loss, obstacle 7 - bad luck, loss of friendship, money loss or problems 6 - unwanted problems, money gain if it's worked for 5 - trouble resulting from hasty action or bad council 4 - illness or an accident 3 - journey or travel 2 - loss Ace - back luck/omens, misfortune, slander

Diamond Suit

King - father, protector or parent Queen - a woman of a kind and generous nature; flirtatious girl or woman Knave - a sly and deceiving man, letters or news, discovery 10 - business success and enterprise, gain 9 - successful endeavors, wisdom and knowledge to reach goals 8 - late marriage, good luck 7 - scandal and unjust slander; for a business enterprise this card means more cucess 6 - early marriage or decisions 5 - unexpected news 4 - betrayal, or an enemy uncovered 3 - fighting or quarreling 2 - friends warn of a snare, take their advice Ace - good luck, marriage proposal, good news

Club Suit

King - a reliable man, but gets too free with advice and promises Queen - an intelligent and easy-to-trust woman Knave - a good friend 10 - legacy, children, good family 9 - money, gain and position 8 - caution, retribution 7 - caution against the wiles of the opposite sex, false hope 6 - success in enterprise, business or industry 5 - a comfortable marriage 4 - change 3 - three days, weeks, months or years 2 - a disappointment or let-down Ace - good news, success

[himboskywalker]

I think what I find the most emotionally devastating is that Obi-Wan isn’t just grieving what happened to the Jedi,to the galaxy,and to Anakin. He grieves death,he grieves failure,he grieves his own regrets and his inability to stop it all. He’s helpless,and lost,unmoored without the Jedi he dedicated his life to.

But oh god he’s still so horrified over Anakin’s fall,but he still grieves Anakin. It’s not just Mustafar and order 66 in his nightmares,it’s memories of Anakin laughing,of their friendship and mentorship and love. After all this time he still loves him and grieves,not just the end of the Jedi and Anakin’s fall,but he grieves the loss of his best friend,the most important person in his life,his other half even.

He still remembers the good and joy of before, we are shown the intertwining of the light in the nightmares. We see the way he sees the good of Anakin in the children. Obi-Wan sees his love of piloting in Luke,he sees his love of droids in Leia. Anakin has not become an archetype of evil in Obi-Wan’s mind,because the heartache and sorrow and grief is all the worse for the longing of the good memories,of the light in him.

I think that all builds up so beautifully for the climax of Obi-Wan realizing he’s alive. It’s absolute terror and horror and abject misery in his eyes,but it’s unending grief and sorrow and heartache too. There is such a complicated and wretched longing in the way he says Anakin. It’s not just fear,not just defeat,but love and devastation too. Because he loves him still,the man he was,the life they lived,and that makes the betrayal and hate all the worse and more potent,all the more gutting in it’s numb and shell shocked fatalism.