#and then only then complete the healing journey by fully allowing will in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 1 month

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18) waking up with amnesia au pretty please! I was delighted with how many of the prompts you've already done, it was a really fun bingo!

Best friends sibling = band au

knocking on the wrong door = actually name of the fic

Nanny/single parent au = Nannykin

Etc etc etc!

hello hello this was sent january 10!! hope you still want some waking up with amnesia au! this just demonstrates how long i can hold onto a prompt i have every intention of completing

(from this prompt list) (& this is the waking up with amnesia au prompt fill i did a few years ago when i first reblogged that prompt list!)

(3.5k)

(warnings: angst but not incredibly sad. more like. here there lies some future manipulation/mind fuckery because of angst established in this ficlet but not resolved in this ficlet but would be in the future)

(also warning: vader)

It is somehow both the hardest and easiest part of the day, every time.

It is easy to let his feet turn in the direction they beg to go during all his waking seconds. It is easy to allow them to lead the way. It feels as if a great and crushing weight has been lifted from his shoulders the moment that he sees the pillars standing sentry at the entrance of the Halls of Healing. It is so easy to give into his body’s desire to allow it to find its other half.

It is almost harder to stay away, to pretend to be the respectful and poised Jedi master he masquerades as during those long moments of the day that he is not by Anakin’s side.

But what is infinitely harder than journeying there or keeping his distance is arriving. Is what waits for him within the Halls.

“How is he today?” he asks the moment he sees a healer—it does not matter which one these days. They must all know him by now, know the series of questions he demands answers to.

This time, the man he finds is healer Ramak, at least, one of the primary specialists on Anakin’s case. Rarely can Obi-Wan corner him. Ramak is incredibly busy both within the Temple and outside of it. He has numerous priorities.

Obi-Wan really only has one priority. Often this puts them at odds.

“Ah,” Ramak says, adjusting his robes. “Master Kenobi, hello.”

“Yes, hello,” Obi-Wan says. And then, “How is he today?” In case Ramak has missed his question.

“He is much the same, Master Kenobi,” Ramak replies. “As he was yesterday.”

Obi-Wan swallows. The words get stuck in his throat for a moment and he has to force them up past his teeth. “What does…what has he remembered?”

Healer Ramak’s face slides from reluctantly indulgent to pitying. It would grate against Obi-Wan’s rather impressive sense of pride if he did not already know exactly how pitiful he is.

“Memories are not stored within the mind chronologically, Master Kenobi,” Ramak says carefully. Obi-Wan has heard this before. Obi-Wan could recite this speech.

Obi-Wan listens to it silently anyway. Perhaps this time, Ramak will find the correct combination of words to explain his loss to him in terms he can understand. “Uncovering them again is not simply a matter of starting from the beginning of his life and moving forwards. We cannot simply recover and present him with all of his memories from age nine, from age thirteen, to now.”

Obi-Wan can feel a muscle tick in his jaw and he crosses his arms. Another healer crosses behind him, jostles him in their hurry to get to another patient. Differing priorities.

But Obi-Wan only has one.

“It is like…” Ramak trails off, thinking. “Picture the rain. What do you think of?” It is much too transparent, what Obi-Wan thinks of when he thinks of the rain. He thinks of Anakin as a youngling. The ashes of Qui-Gon’s body had not fully cooled before the skies of Naboo had broken open in a torrential downpour, and the boy, padawan braid that was both his and Obi-Wan’s newly weighing on his shoulder, had escaped from the palace in Theed, ran outside with arms raised up in wonder.

“When you think of rain, you do not recall your memories chronologically,” Ramak says kindly, as if he understands where Obi-Wan’s mind has gone. “That is to say, you do not immediately think of the first time you experienced it. Our minds store memories based on their significance to us, the meanings they hold for us, which makes mind-healing to this degree incredibly difficult. Not to mention, not only was Knight Skywalker stripped of his memories, tortured, and indoctrinated, he was held for several months. Long enough for new neural pathways to form, new connotations and memories to take the place of the ones he lost.”

“Master, please,” Obi-Wan says. When he holds up his hand to forestall the other man’s words, it is shaking slightly. “Please just tell me.”

Will he recognize me?

Will he hate me?

Will another day go by where he does not know me?

“He has a long way to go yet,” Ramak says finally, lifting his hand to stroke over his beard. “His time as Vader left scars—”

“His time captured,” Obi-Wan interrupts. “He was a hostage.” Ramak looks at him. Anakin, kidnapped by the sith, without his memories, trained to be deadly and taught to Fall, was more than a hostage. They both know that. Everyone in the galaxy knows the dangers that Darth Vader represented to the Republic.

Very few know that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker. It had been a terrible surprise. It had been the sweetest sort of relief too, to find him at all.

“Yes,” Ramak finally allows. “His time as a hostage left innumerable scars, Obi-Wan. Even after he regains all his memories, he will have a long journey ahead of him.”

“How is he?” Obi-Wan repeats, even though it is rather rude to cut the healer off. “How is he today?”

Ramak hesitates for a moment and then another, and his Force signature tenses as if at war with itself. “He requested to see you,” he finally says. “We’re not sure that’s a good idea.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. The Jedi saved Anakin Skywalker from the Sith five weeks ago, and though Obi-Wan has spent each of those days trekking from his quarters to the Halls of Healing and back, accousting various healers and Council members alike, desperate for any information they can give him…he has not yet been able to sit beside Anakin. He has not been allowed to talk with him at all.

It is for the best. That is what he’s been told and that is what he must believe. It is for the best. Anakin does not remember him. He remembers the word master—he does not remember that he used to say the same word with respect. With affection. He does not remember Obi-Wan at all.

He remembers his master, Sidious. He remembers his master on Tatooine. He does not—Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why he cannot remember him.

Anakin has never once asked to see him.

“I want to see him,” Obi-Wan says immediately, turning towards the wing where they are keeping Anakin.

“Master Kenobi, it is not a good idea,” Ramak says, but it does not matter what they think is a good idea. It is what Anakin wants and it has been so long since Obi-Wan has been something Anakin wants.

Something of what he’s feeling must flash across his face, because the healer sighs and rubs at his forehead as if he finds the whole ordeal incredibly trying.

“I will not hurt him,” Obi-Wan says quickly, and Ramak shakes his head, dropping his arms to his sides.

“That is not the concern, Master,” he replies, but his shoulders have slumped. His forehead is wrinkled, but his Force signature has relaxed. He has given in. Obi-Wan has won. “I—”

But Obi-Wan has won. And so he has already stepped away, intent now on seeing his padawan. He leaves the healer behind where he stands, pushing through the doors of the wing and finally—finally to Anakin’s room.

He’d been so volatile at first, when he was still Vader. The Jedi rescuing him probably felt more like being captured. Without his memories of the Order, of the Temple, of Obi-Wan, he’d Fallen so quickly as far as anyone knows. Sidious had taken him and twisted him and when he was found again, he’d fully believed in the Sith doctrine. He’d killed two Jedi before he was subdued.

So when he’d been brought into the Temple, into the Halls of Healing, they’d outfitted him with Force suppression cuffs. Given him his own room in order to protect the other patients.

Obi-Wan knows he still wears the Force bracelets and collar, but there’s knowing and then there’s seeing.

The seeing part takes his breath away. It looks so wrong, Anakin, his Anakin, wearing the cuffs and the collar.

Anakin, his Anakin, with yellow eyes watching him intently from the moment he enters the room.

“Anakin,” he murmurs, a reflex. The sounds are punched out of him.

He is thinner. His hair is greasy. There are dark shadows under his eyes. The skin around the collar is red, rubbed raw. He looks a thousand times older. Guant and hollowed out as if the captivity and the Darkness has leached away all of his youthful energy.

“Master,” Anakin says reproachfully. And it sounds—it sounds so much like him, like Obi-Wan’s Anakin, that he has the rather ridiculous urge to cry. Master, master.

“How are you feeling?” Obi-Wan asks, though it is a useless sort of question. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands. What to do with his tongue. He suddenly cannot remember the last time he asked Anakin how he was feeling. It was never a phrase that was part of their lexicon—for so many years, they shared a training bond. Obi-Wan was able to ascertain his padawan’s emotions with a gentle Force touch across the planes of his mind. More often than not, he was telling Anakin to search his own feelings. He was not asking him to interpret them for Obi-Wan’s sake.

Now though, their bond is severed and Anakin does not recognize him as anything more than another Jedi, another man who he once called master, and Obi-Wan stands across the room from him and does not recognize him either, save for all the ways that he does.

“Surely they have been giving you updates,” Anakin murmurs. “I know you have visited every day.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says because he will not lie to Anakin. He doesn’t think he remembers how. It has been—so long. Since he has last seen him. It is all he can do to stay standing now. To keep a respectable distance between them. To not fall to his knees. To not stumble forward and take Anakin’s hand in his own.

“What have they told you?” Anakin asks, and he tilts his head slightly. His golden eyes are as disconcerting as they are beautiful. They’re his. They’re his eyes, set in his face, and Obi-Wan has missed that face for so long. For months. He’d thought he’d never see it again, and he is just now realizing that he has no defenses left against Anakin. None at all. The boy could ask him for anything and he would fight to the death to give it to him.

The Force is in flux in the air around them, bucking up, riled, in a way Obi-Wan usually interprets as danger. But the Force could be screaming a death knell and Obi-Wan, in this moment, would only be able to hear a sweet cry of wild joy.

Anakin, this is Anakin. This is his Anakin and he is here. Back—partially. Back, incompletely. But back. Obi-Wan…he’d stopped hoping he’d ever get him back.

Instead of answering his question, he presses the backs of his fingers against his mouth to try and stop their shaking. Every day he has walked here, accosted the healers, demanded to know the latest. And he has never once realized how incredibly difficult it would be to lay eyes on Anakin. How incredibly difficult it would be to maintain his composure, to hold himself in.

Anakin’s eyes glow gold, but Obi-Wan’s eyes are that of a starving man. All he can see is honey.

“Come here, master,” Anakin says, reproachful. “Did you not miss me?”

The words move him forward where his own feet could not. “Of course I did, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers. Hoarse, too hoarse. Too trembling and old, but it has been so many months. He had thought him lost forever. Dead and gone and one with the Force, and for the first time in his life, that had given him no comfort.

Anakin holds out his mechno hand, palm up, fingers slightly crooked. He’d built them that way on purpose, Obi-Wan remembers. At fourteen, he’d broken his index and middle finger in a duel, bones shattering under the blow of another padawan’s sabor. A lucky hit, an unlucky outcome. Though they’d healed near perfect due to bacta, they’d always remained slightly bent out of place. When he lost his arm to Dooku five years later, he’d fiddled with the replacement until the mech digits tilted the same familiar direction.

Obi-Wan stares at them, caught up in the tide of the memory.

Had Vader ever looked down at his mechno hand and wondered about the imperfection? Had he thought to fix it once he had the time? Had he spared a thought for the black spots in his memory, the cavernous gaps in his past?

His fingers fall to rest against the sensors of the mech tips. They’re sensitive enough that he can see Anakin shiver at the touch.

“Did you not miss me, master?” Anakin asks again, and his hand closes around Obi-Wan’s tightly, pulling him forward another few steps.

Obi-Wan nods, then shakes his head. Yes, he missed him. No, missing—missing is not a vast enough word.

“You asked for me,” he hears himself say. “Do you—what do you….”

Do you remember me?

You must. You call me master. And you want me close.

But they pulled the memories of the word master from your mind days ago, and you hated me then. You did not want me near you. What has changed? What have you remembered?

“I wonder if they would treat any patient like this,” Anakin says. He uses his hold on Obi-Wan to pull him even closer, til his thighs brush the edge of the bed. “If it is the war that makes me special, if it’s my own power. Or if it’s you.”

Obi-Wan tenses. Him? He doesn’t—

“They’ve tried everything they can think of to trigger my memories of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin says. When Obi-Wan tries to move back, take a step away, find the air in the room to breathe, Anakin tightens his hold and pulls him forward until the only option is to either topple over onto his padawan’s chest or sit on the bed at his hip.

He sits.

“They debated for many days, you know,” Anakin says. His mech thumb begins to sweep over the inside of Obi-Wan’s wrist. “If they should trigger the connections my mind has made to the word master. It’s a weighted word for Anakin Skywalker. Surely you know that.”

“I do,” Obi-Wan says carefully. When he tries to breathe, he can only do so shallowly as if his entire chest has shrunk to half its capacity.

“He was enslaved before he was a padawan,” Anakin explains as though Obi-Wan has not spoken at all. Maybe he hasn’t. For the past several months he has not been able to speak to Anakin aloud, could only talk with him in his mind—could never hear a reply. Perhaps he has forgotten how. “They were worried that after ten years studying under you, after two years fighting side by side with you, my strongest connotations to the word master would still be to slavery.”

Anakin ducks his head slightly, tilts it to the side to give Obi-Wan a small, private grin, as if the healers’ concerns are so unfounded that they are amusing. As if the concept that something could outweigh Obi-Wan’s importance to Anakin is so foreign and preposterous that it’s funny.

His smile knocks into Obi-Wan’s chest like a punch to the solar plexus.

“But they decided to risk it,” Anakin says. His voice is light as a feather. Airy and unconcerned. “Perhaps they should have started with smaller things. A light saber. A braid. A pear. A planet. But they wanted to re-establish my firmest conneciton to the Light as quickly as possible. And they thought that was you.”

Obi-Wan holds his breath, eyes leaping from their connected hands to the yellow of Anakin’s eyes. He has still fallen. He has not been healed. He is still—he is still—

“So they gave me back my masters,” Anakin pitches his voice low. “All of them, though I suppose I remember Sidious well enough. But they gave me back the Toydarian. And they gave me you.”

“They said you did not want to see me,” Obi-Wan whispers. “Why, Anakin, if you remember, why would you—”

“Because I hate you,” his padawan says as if it’s the easiest thing in the galaxy. “Because they could give me back Master Kenobi, but wherever Anakin Skywalker kept his love for you, it was not in your title. He hated your title.”

Obi-Wan flinches back so violently that his forearm slips from Anakin’s grasp. Before he can move from the bed completely though, his padawan’s hand lashes out and curls around the fabric of his tunics.

“No,” Obi-Wan says because he must deny this—he cannot stand to hear it and not deny it. No, Anakin—there was love there, in the way he pronounced the word master. The way he looked at Obi-Wan: admiration shining in his eyes when he was younger, cooling off over the years into acceptance and affection. They had their arguments. They had their—misunderstandings, but Anakin did not resent him for his role in his life as his old teacher. His master. “You’re wrong.”

“He hated it more than he hated his actual slave master,” Anakin murmurs. Lightly, airily. As if his words are not landing devastating blows on all of Obi-Wan’s softest spots. “Do you know why?” “I don’t believe you,” Obi-Wan whispers because he doesn’t because he can’t. Because he’d have known. Because this is Anakin, this is his Anakin, but there are still cavernous dark spots and gaps in his mind. This is not entirely his Anakin. He is still missing things. Thousands upon thousands of memories and moments and learned contexts and—

“I think you know why,” Anakin says as if he has not spoken. Funny, as Obi-Wan had thought he was screaming.

“I assure you I do not,” he snaps, spitting the words out as quickly as he can so that his voice cannot break between the syllables.

“Because Anakin Skywalker believed til the day he died that if you had not been his master, you would have allowed him to kiss you. To take you. To be taken by you. Don’t you remember, Master Kenobi?” Obi-Wan tears himself away from the bed, from the boy in it. Just a boy. Not a man. Not when he was seventeen and drunk for the first time, slinging his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and pressing his face into his chest, whining and begging and pleading—and not when he was eighteen either, bold and staring at Obi-Wan's lips, not when he was nineteen, on the verge of his Knighting ceremony and demanding to be given into.

Just a boy, just his boy. But never—never anything else.

“Like I said,” Anakin but not Anakin murmurs. Anakin, but Vader too. “Wherever Anakin Skywalker kept his love for you, they have not yet been able to find it in my mind. I can only assume he loved you at all.”

Obi-Wan flicks his eyes over the familiar face, the beloved face. The stranger’s face. If it were anyone else sitting before him, he’d have a retort already on his tongue. He’d have raised his shields, gone on the offensive. There are few people left in the galaxy that can land a blow on him, and many have tried.

But this is not anyone. This is Anakin. This is his Anakin and this is something for which he has no defenses prepared.

“How ashamed did you make him feel for loving you, master?” Vader asks, tilting his head in cruel curiosity. “That he compressed all of it into something so small that a whole Temple of healers have been unable to find it?”

“Don’t call me that,” Obi-Wan snaps and this time he does not get the words off his tongue quick enough. His voice breaks in the middle of the demand, ribs cracking and parting to reveal the heart of him. “Not if—” not if you do not know what it means for him. For me. For us.

“Why not?” Vader says, and he raises his flesh hand to tuck a piece of greasy hair behind his head before allowing his fingers to fall to rest against his collarbone, ghosting against the Force suppression collar around his neck as if it’s a diamond encrusted necklace. “After all, am I not wearing your chains, master?”

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #vaderwan #so you know vader's number one priority is going to be to manipulate obi-wan into freeing him #because he can probably remember a little bit of anakin's love for obi-wan #it's not as gone as he says #but he also probably remembers the obsession with his master first #and that's tinted even darker by being a sith now #so within the next few weeks his priorities shift from torturing obi-wan for sport #to wanting him to free him so that he can kidnap him and keep him #and get away from the temple and all the memories the jedi are trying to give back to him #he doesn't want those #he wants obi-wan kenobi #hate and love and all

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

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What do you think M6’s answers would be to the question “is it better to feel all the pain or nothing at all?” I haven’t played all the routes so I can’t answer for everyone but I think

Julian -feel it all

Asra -nothing

Muriel -at the start of his route nothing but as he grows as a character it would shift slowly to feel it all

Portia -feel it all

I’d also love to hear your answer if you’re comfortable with that! As someone who’s felt both my answer is nothing bc in my experience the numbness allows you to still function. Even if the life you’re experiencing isn’t as full as it could be, you still get to experience it. When I become so overwhelmed by Everything I completely shut down and cease to be a person. I am my emotions. And I think in Asra’s route this kinda gets explored in that they choose to not feel as deeply ever again bc a muted life with MC is better than a full one without them. Anyway can you tell I recently reread The Giver lol

Woah, that's a good question friend!!

To be completely honest, I think all the M6 progress from the "numb" to the "willing to feel everything" point throughout their routes - as is the case for many people who are in the healing process! (essay below the cut)

Julian, while fully embracing the misery of his situation, is also running from the part of him that wants a happy ending. Meeting the MC is his slow journey of self-acceptance, realizing that his happiness is valuable and worth fighting for. He stops choosing one feeling to drown out all the others and starts feeling everything in a context of loving and being loved.

Asra's in a similar situation. They don't see giving up half their heart as something to regret, but they still talk about the reduced ability to be attached to people as a loss. Reconnecting with MC, being able to slowly bring down the walls that used to facilitate a drifting, untethered survival mode, allows him to start caring more about the people around him since he has a person to call home again.

When Nadia wakes up, she's lost. Seven years of memory have blipped out of view, she's responsible for a city she knows very little about, and the people who are supposed to help her are only getting in her way. She speaks of a similar numb state, being detached and uninvested in the world around her, until meeting MC and finding a way forward gives her what she needs to flourish again. We see a lot of that emotional progression in her reconnecting with her family.

Muriel is an almost textbook case of complex trauma and the myriad of coping mechanisms that arise from trying to escape it. I've written whole essays on the effects of his deal on that process before, but his journey with MC starts with him just wanting them to forget about him, and ends with him asking MC to help him collect the memories of himself and his people.

Portia isn't quite as much numb as she is stuck. From the moment her parents' ship wrecked, she's lived her life in the orbit of other people. First her older brother, then the children and grandmas of Nevivon, then her older brother again, now the Countess - it isn't until she begins to receive that same attention from MC that she starts to really own herself and discover the true depth of her capacity. While we never see her choosing to be numb, we do see her hesitating to come fully into her own. With MC's empowerment, that's exactly what she ends up being able to do.

And finally, Lucio - he's literally numb. He's spent the last three years trapped between realms in a ghostly form that won't let him feel anything at all beyond hunger. While MC is instrumental in returning him the capacity to feel, it's Lucio's own choice to take advantage of that as a fresh start.

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana game #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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its-your-mind · 8 months

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sorry I won't be done dracula posting until never bc ALSO TODAY. WE GOT THE REMINDER OF JONATHAN'S HAIR. I know that hair-turned-white-by-trauma is a well-known and oft-utilized trope, but what I fuckin LOVE about jonathan is that yes. he has been supremely and deeply fucked up by what happened in castle dracula. it took him months to recover with the nuns, and even when mina brought him home he wasn't fully There. it was only after he spotted the count in london and had van helsing come and tell him that no, he was not mad, the memories he had were real, this monster is real and he's now stalking london... that we see an upturn in jonathan's recovery.

but the thing is. the THING. is. hair-turned-white-by-trauma characters are always characterized by a deep, deep wound to their psyche that never healed properly. their interactions with the rest of the world are shaped by that wound - the powerlessness they felt when there was something or someone trying who hurt them, and they had no way to stop the hurt. they'll do whatever they can do get away, and accept help from the first person who offers. and jonathan's story does follow that trend.

BUT THEN. most of the time, that powerlessness and fear is turned to a facade of stoicism, of intense calm, cut through with occasional abrupt bursts of an intense anger that seems to come from nowhere. but it doesn't come from nowhere. it's a self-protection instinct. they were hurt before. they will Not let something do that to them again.

jonathan... calls for mina. when she comes, he marries her instantly. he gives her his journal, makes her promise never to read it unless she absolutely needs to know what happened to him. wants to keep these memories buried. then lucy, then van helsing, then seward... it was all real. and these people want to stop this from happening to anyone else.

and to jonathan, this isn't a quest for vengeance. he stays back. he helps mina keep the logs. he provides information where he can, stays out of the way when he's not needed. he becomes a pillar of support, the "husband of madame mina" who is at her secretarial disposal. the others sleep outside their room to protect them. it is only after dracula attacks mina that jonathan asks to go out on missions, to help seek dracula out, to join in the pursuit, kukri knife in hand, ready to stop the vampire where he stands and stab him through the heart. and when the count escapes? when they have to make a plan of pursuit that may not work? jonathan does not vow to avenge his wife. he does not vow to kill the count at all costs. he vows that, if mina is to be turned and they cannot stop it, he will go with her. he will not allow her to live as such alone. a vow not made from a place of deep anger and pain, but from an even deeper place of personal, unshakable and devoted love.

the character arc for a hair-turned-white-by-trauma character is so often dominated by a journey back to trust, back to love.

jonathan went into dracula's castle with a journal of train schedules and paprika-filled recipes for his fiance. every time he believed himself close to death, he would write a goodbye to his beloved. and so when he escaped, body withered and mind shattered, he didn't patch himself back together again with ironclad mistrust and an impenetrable heart of steel. instead, he tried to get home. when he couldn't, he called for mina, and he waited for her. he could not trust his own mind. he knew she would come. his memories felt like lies. he had complete trust in her. when he was weak, he knew she would be strong. she would hold him, support him, until his mind was strong enough again.

#AHHHHAHHHHAKFJSKAJA #FUCK #SO FUCKIN NORMAL ABOUT THEM #FUUCK #dracula #re dracula #dracula Daily #Jonathan harker

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year

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Warnings: fluff/angst. Mention of panic attack and one suggestive paragraph.

Pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Coccham was to be your new home, where you struggled with your former life as a nun, and where you learned that Sihtric, the handsome Dane who had saved you, was just as superstitious as you, causing your religions to mingle.

Word count: 3,7k

Note: follow up to part 2!

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us

Those who are abandoned, part 3.

'Sihtric, why are you holding hands with a… nun?'

********************

The journey to Coccham already lasted 6 days, and you were simply exhausted. The only positive was that your injuries, after falling off Sihtric's horse, seemed to heal rather fast.

But each night you had been tormented by nightmares of the raid at your monastery, causing you to get less and less sleep as the journey progressed. And each night Sihtric comforted you as you wept, by holding you in his arms and reassuring your safety.

You had grown more comfortable around each other with each passing hour, and after about 4 days you had fully welcomed his love language. And he didn't shy away anymore when he noticed, instead using every moment when no one was watching to peck your skin wherever he could. Face, neck, arms, hands or fingers, it didn't matter to Sihtric, he just completely adored you already.

Meanwhile, you tried to understand all that Sihtric made you feel and find your way in returning the affection. Which has led to several awkward situations already, keeping you up at night when your nightmares didn't.

Like when you wanted to kiss his cheek, but Sihtric didn't expect it and just waved away a mosquito as you leaned in, causing him to smack you in the face on accident. Or when once, at night, you wanted to peck his lips as you simply couldn't stand the tension anymore while you laid face to face. But you didn't realise he was already asleep, so he was naturally startled when someone suddenly grabbed his face and he pulled his knife. When he noticed it was you and asked what you were doing, you felt so embarrassed, you couldn't bring yourself to say another word to him until the next evening.

But the worst moment was yesterday, when you had accompanied Sihtric to the river, fetching water for the camp. Sihtric wanted to take advantage of the short moment alone with you, so he pulled you close and planted short, sweet kisses on your forehead, cheeks and hands, with no intention of anything else. And you wanted to do return the affection, but Sihtric was taller than you, so you figured you'd just peck his skin where you could reach; his neck.

He allowed your first peck with a smile, and your second with a satisfying hum. So you continued, turning your pecking into longer kisses, which he also gladly allowed. And you heard his breath hitch, which you didn't think anything of, so you continued, obliviously, even when his slow and heavy breaths turned into soft moans as his hands grabbed you a little tighter.

'Are you sure you want this?' Sihtric had asked. His voice was slightly hoarse, but again, you didn't think anything of it. You thought he just meant to ask if you were sure about kissing him the way you did. So you looked up at him and smiled, 'Of course.'

After which Sihtric pulled you close against his body, allowing you to feel his hardness against your high hip, to which you pulled abruptly back in a slight panic, not understanding why he suddenly wanted more, as he knew that would be considered a sin by your God. When he saw your face, and you saw his, you both understood you had different intentions at that moment. And you blushed, heavily, when Sihtric calmly explained that he thought you knew what you were doing, and he said that if you want to lovingly kiss him without any other intentions, you should never go for his neck again. Ever.

*******************

After 8 days, his horse finally carried you and Sihtric through Coccham's gates.

You had grown incredibly anxious the night before, as it had dawned on you that Coccham would be your new home. And that it would be so different from anything you ever knew and you had no one there, except for the men who had taken you under their care. Sihtric had tried to reassure you down by telling you it was going to be fine, but you were still simply terrified.

After Sihtric had ordered a servant to take care of his horse, he took you by the hand and walked you further into Coccham. And it only took minutes before everything became overwhelming. The sounds, the people, the animals running around, the voices of children screaming and most of all the fact that nothing looked familiar to you. It became too much, too fast.

Sihtric was alert and noticed your breathing quickened rapidly while tears shot up in your wide eyes, and you tried to pull away from him, which he knew was a signal that a panic attack was about to happen. He was quick to grab you by your arm and rushed you towards a corner of the fortress, where he kicked open a door which led into the hidden hallways inside the walls of the Burh. He pulled you with him and quickly crouched down to his knees, sitting you down opposite of him. He took your shaking hands, placed them onto his chest and he cupped your cheeks as he leaned his forehead against yours.

'Breathe with me, little angel,' Sihtric said calmly.

And underneath your hands you felt his chest rise and fall with deep and slow breaths. You struggled to take on his calm pace as you kept nearing gasping and sobbing, but he wasn't giving up. Sihtric hushed you quietly as he caressed your cheeks with his rough thumbs.

'Everything is okay, little angel,' Sihtric whispered, 'just breathe with me. You're not alone, okay? I will never leave you.'

You nodded as you huffed, trying to rid your rapid breathing and focusing on the feeling of Sihtric's chest underneath your shaky hands. And after a few long minutes, you finally felt your breathing become slowly in sync with his.

'That's it's, honey,' Sihtric whispered and pressed a kiss to your forehead, 'keep it steady with me now.'

He gave you all the time you needed, placing soft kisses all over your face as he waited for you to feel ready to go outside again. And once you were ready, he walked you out back into the sunlight and wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, holding you close as you tried to take in your new town, as well as you could.

'C-can anyone just get in? Through those gates?'

'No, angel,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'the fortress is guarded day and night. I promise you, you are safe.'

'So… we are locked in here?'

'No,' he chuckled lightly, 'you can leave whenever you want. But I hope you have no plans of leaving,' he frowned.

'Oh,' you blushed, 'n-no, I do not.'

'Good,' Sihtric smiled, squeezing your waist lovingly.

'But... where will I live?'

'Here?' Sihtric asked, 'I- I thought you could stay with me.'

'Oh... where will I sleep?'

'I think we're past that problem already, lady,' Sihtric laughed with a light blush, 'unless you wish to sleep alone, then I will-'

'No,' you said quickly, as you stopped walking, 'don't- don't leave.'

Sihtric sighed sweetly and cupped your cheeks, 'I am not leaving you, I promise. Now, come, let me take you home.'

******************

You felt delighted when Sihtric showed you his house. You didn't know what to expect after all the horrible stories about the Danes, which your head had been filled with throughout the years. But you were happy to see his home was tidy, cosy, warm and most of all safe.

Sihtric leaned back against a wall as you darted around in his house, curiously inspecting every little thing your eyes caught. Until you were particularly drawn to a bowl filled with jewellery, and you became a little giddy when you tried on a few rings, a sight to which Sihtric simply melted inside.

'How… where did you get all these? You must be rich,' you smiled as your fingers dug through the shiny silver and gold.

'Oh,' Sihtric chuckled, 'Those are,' he rubbed his bicep awkwardly, 'I actually... take them from the men I've killed during battle.'

You gasped, abruptly dropping the rings and necklaces back in the bowl as you pulled your hands back, quickly making a cross while a shiver went through your spine.

'I- I should cleanse,' you said, wide eyed.

'Oh,' Sihtric said confused, 'eh, I, I don't know any… I mean,' he paused, 'what?'

'I just… I…' you gestured at the dead's jewellery, 'what if their spirits are still attached?'

'That- that can happen?' Sihtric suddenly became nervous.

'Yes, I have been told many stories, they could be haunted,' you shivered and took a step away from the bowl.

'Like… like a curse?' Sihtric's eyes darted over the bowl before he took a step closer to you, 'could they… the spirits curse people?'

'I suppose they can curse those who wear their jewellery,' you gave him a concerned look, and Sihtric immediately took off his rings and flung them away. He reached for your hands while he kept eyeing the bowl.

'Do you think I … that I am cursed now?'

'I, I don't know,' you looked at him with big eyes, 'do you feel like you might be?'

'Maybe,' Sihtric nodded, his superstition taking full control, 'and maybe that is why you fell off my horse and injured yourself.'

You gasped. 'Oh sweet Jesus,' you whispered, making a cross again before you took a step back from Sihtric.

'But,' Sihtric's eyes grew big, 'what if you are cursed now too?'

*******************

'Father Beocca!' Sihtric called, panting as he ran towards him with you by his side. Beocca looked up and made a cross.

'Sihtric?' he frowned, 'why are you here? This church is a place of God.'

'I- I think I,' Sihtric stammered as he looked back and forth between you and Beocca, 'I need your help.'

'Wait,' Beocca said after he took a good look at you, 'Sihtric, why are you holding hands with a… nun?'

Sihtric gasped, 'I am not,' he quickly let go of your hand.

'Sihtric saved my life, father,' you quickly explained, 'when my monastery was attacked. He- he promised to look after me so I travelled here with him,' you smiled lightly.

'Your monastery?' Beocca asked, 'oh, dear God, you are the one who survived,' he said as he understood where you came from.

You nodded and looked down at your feet. Sihtric was quick to lace his fingers with yours, instantly bringing you comfort and you gave him a shy smile.

'And now… you… you two,' Beocca hesitated, 'are you,' he closed his mouth and shook his head, 'I don't want to know what you are up to with her, son,' he murmured, 'but I will not marry you if that's why you are here!'

'Why not?' Sihtric frowned in offence, completely forgetting why he was there in the first place.

'Father,' you interrupted, 'I think Sihtric might be cursed.'

'Cursed?' Beocca chuckled, 'well he sure has done sinful things with the whor-'

'My rings!' Sihtric was quick to cut off Beocca, 'my- my jewellery, I take them from the dead, after battle. Is it true that they can be haunted by spirits?'

'Oh, well, eh,' Beocca shook his head, confused, 'many believe so, yes, it could be.'

'How do I stop this… haunting curse?' Sihtric's eyes grew wide with fear.

'I believe we need to cleanse his jewellery and then him as well,' you offered your thoughts.

'Usually, yes,' Beocca agreed, 'but Sihtric is not a man of God. Our ways will not have an effect on him.'

Sihtric looked worried and brushed his hand through his dark curls.

'But, Father, there has to be a way?' you asked.

'I don't know what kind of rituals the pagans use to rid themselves of spirits, I am afraid I will be of no help, I am sorry.

You both watched Beocca hurry out of the church, making another quick cross as he whispered to you to not fall for Sihtric's pagan ways.

******************

'Did you bring everything?'

'Yes,' Sihtric said, almost dropping the bag with all the stolen jewellery he had.

You and Sihtric had done some thinking, and eventually both agreed to the idea of burying all his silver and gold in the earth during the full moon, which happened to be tonight.

You believed that by burying them in the earth, which God has created, the spirits would be put to rest in peace. Whereas Sihtric believed that the powers of Máni, the moon, would charge the jewellery with protective energy. You both agreed to keep everything buried for one night, and at dawn you would dig up and wash everything in the river, and Sihtric was to be cleansed by the water too in the morning.

*****************

It was quite chilly outside when you buried the last few rings and necklaces together, as the full moon kept watch over you. You both felt good about the cleansing ritual you had put together, and after everything was buried, you said you'd like to go home, as you were freezing. Sihtric wasted no time after seeing your quivering lips and immediately wrapped his arms around you and took you home, where he lit a fire and gave you his cloak.

'Tomorrow I will take you to buy some new clothes,' Sihtric said as he watched how you wrapped his cloak around your cold shoulders. Your tunic had been through a lot, and it was all you had left from your former life, but just like you, it was damaged and broken.

'Thank you,' you smiled.

'And for tonight,' Sihtric said as he got up and made way to his bedroom, 'you can sleep in this,' he returned and handed you one of his tunics, 'I also fetched a bucket of water, if you wish to clean up in private,' he nodded towards his bedroom.

'Thank you,' you said again. You shyly made your way to his bedroom and changed into Sihtric's tunic after you had rinsed yourself. You felt a lot better and even more confident when you returned to Sihtric and sat down, in front of the fire, across from him.

Sihtric smiled at you when you looked up at him, and you felt yourself become lightheaded again as a shade of red covered your cheeks. He couldn't help but chuckle softly at your flustered cheeks, biting down on his lip as he moved closer to you, while the fire cast a warm glow on your faces. You studied the scars on his face, and without thinking you brought your hand up, tracing your fingertips lightly over the marks.

'Do you think I am cursed?' he asked again, softly.

'If you are, then I am sure the curse will be broken tonight,' you reassured him.

'And you? If you are cursed?'

'I don't think I am cursed, Sihtric,' you chuckled.

'But… we kissed? I have seen curses being given through a kiss.'

'Well, I, I,' you suddenly stammered, 'y-yes, but we... you... never on the lips. And… I only know they can be given with a kiss on the lips and broken with a kiss like that.'

'Oh,' Sihtric smiled shyly, 'I see.'

Your hand reached for Sihtric's pendant, and as you had done the first day, you gazed at it again as you held it in your hand, all while Sihtric couldn't keep his eyes off you.

'Have you ever been?' he asked, making you look up at him.

'What? Cursed?'

'No, silly,' he laughed, 'kissed.'

'Oh,' you blushed again, bringing your focus back to his pendant, 'no,' you said softly.

'W-Would you… can I… I'd like to kiss you,' Sihtric managed to say.

'But what about the curse?'

'Well,' he paused, 'then I guess I'll have to kiss you twice,' he smiled.

'Oh,' you giggled softly and moved a little closer to him.

You nervously tugged lightly at his necklace when Sihtric cupped your cheek, tilting your face slightly up and feeling your shaky breath upon his lips as he brushed his lightly over yours, while his other hand settled on your waist.

'Little angel,' he whispered with a half smile and a soft gaze, 'I just can't seem to keep my eyes off you.'

'Then keep them on me,' you sighed, eyes closed already, feeling pleasantly dizzy at his closeness.

'Believe me, I will, I swear it,' Sihtric chuckled lightly, making you smile as you felt his voice against your lips while he softly caressed your cheek with his rough thumb.

When his soft and slightly chapped lips finally capture yours, you feel an overwhelming sensation of warm tingles through your entire body, making you forget how to breathe for a moment.

You tensed up gradually, hoping you kissed him the right way as you pressed your lips back against his. Sihtric noticed you had tensed up and broke the kiss, slowly nuzzling your nose with his eyes closed as he cupped both your cheeks now.

'Easy, my angel,' Sihtric cooed, 'let me take care of you,' he whispered before he slowly brought his lips back to yours. And now knowing what to expect, you welcomed his kiss calmly.

You felt his rough hands held your face a little more firm this time and you followed his lips against yours as he gently parted them, feeling his soft tongue as he slowly explored your lips. You brought one hand up to his jaw in a desire to pull him even closer, feeling his facial hair tickle your skin as the kiss deepend, while your other hand found his dark curls, brushing your hand through the soft locks before you gently grip his hair, pulling him once again closer and causing Sihtric to let out a soft moan, as he again parted his lips along with yours.

His hands trailed down to your waist, swiftly pulling you onto his lap, straddling him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you slowly and eagerly. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to understand all the things he made you feel, like that itch in your fingers, which made you want to grab onto him wherever you could.

Or the fluttery feeling in your stomach, which became more intense with each moan and sigh Sihtric let out. And you didn't know how to handle the pulsing feeling between your thighs, which seemed to be the cause for all your other sensations to become heavier and intenser. You had never been with a man before, but as Sihtric kissed you in the sweetest yet most arousing way possible, all you could think of was how you longed for him to touch you there, where the tingling sensation was becoming unbearable.

You longed for him inside you, any part of him for that matter. Whether it would be his fingers, his cock or his tongue, you needed something to take away that throbbing feeling before it would drive you insane. And instinctively you rocked your hips against his, to ease the feeling between your legs by rubbing it against his hardness. And it felt good. So good. The feeling of him pressing against you, the way his tongue touched yours and his deep moans vibrating against your lips, swallowing his heavy breaths as his hands were all over you. On your face, in your hair, on your back and on your thighs.

You never felt anything like this before, and you never wanted this to end. And you didn't understand how you were always told that feeling sensations like these, causing you to feel so good, is considered a sin. Which Sihtric also remembered in time, and he gathered all his self-control to break the kiss.

'You shouldn't,' his voice was hoarse as he brought his forehead to rest against yours.

'I know,' you sighed as you both tried to catch your breath.

'You- you should wait.'

'Marriage, I know,' you sighed again as your hands trailed down his neck and onto his chest.

Sihtric chuckled lightly and watched you with flustered cheeks as you took his Mjölnir pendant in your hands again.

'It calls to you?' he asked, leaning back as his fingertips brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

'I'm not sure,' you smiled looking up at him, completely in awe of how handsome he is, 'd-does it matter to you what I believe?'

'No,' he said without doubt, 'does it matter to you?'

'No,' you said, letting go of his pendant.

'Good,' Sihtric said softly and laid down, resting upon his elbows as you still straddled his lap.

'Do your gods,' you paused, 'do you have to wait? Till marriage?'

'No, lady,' Sihtric chuckled and licked his lips, 'we don't have rules like that.'

'So… you don't… feel like you've done something wrong just now?'

'Wrong?' Sihtric frowned with a slight smile, 'of course not.'

'Oh,' you smiled weakly and nodded.

Sihtric looked curiously at you and sat back up as he felt something was wrong.

'Did this… was I, do you feel- did, did I do something wrong, angel?' Sihtric asked with hurt in his eyes, which took you by surprise.

'No,' you said quickly and cupped his cheeks, 'you didn't do anything wrong, Sihtric, not at all,' you paused, 'it's just… I've been taught, at the monastery, you know,' you hesitated, 'that this is wrong, feeling the way you make me feel,' you said softly and looked down.

'Do you feel like it's wrong?' he asked, taking your hands in his.

'No,' you smiled shyly, 'you… you just,' you stammered, 'you make me feel the nicest I've ever felt.'

'If it doesn't feel wrong to you, then why do you allow yourself to believe it's wrong?' Sihtric asked.

'Because it's a sin.'

'But who decides that for you?'

'My God, Sihtric, he does.'

'Your God?' Sihtric scoffed, 'the same God who abandoned you?'

You sat back and stared at him for a moment, eyes watering as your bottom lip began to tremble.

'I- I think I should go,' you said softly and got off Sihtric's lap.

'Angel, wait,' Sihtric sighed as he tried to take your hand, but you were quick to pull away. He watched your confused and hurt face as you paced back and forth for a moment, and he jumped up when he saw you make your way to his front door.

'Where are you going?' Sihtric asked, concerned, placing his hand against the door, preventing you from just walking out.

'I don't know,' you whispered bitterly, 'I- I have no home anymore,' you let out a sudden sob, 'and no God anymore. Where does an abandoned one belong? And to who, if my God doesn't even want me?' you cried.

'Here, with me,' Sihtric said, 'you,' he said firmly, cupping your cheeks as he looked intensely into your eyes, 'you belong here, with me, little angel.'

#sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #the last kingdom fic #tlk

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starsreminisce · 3 months

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Before HOFAS Elriels claimed Elain will play a major part. Plus SJM said this book will set the future ACOTAR book.

After HOFAS came out, it was obvious that Elain didn't make an appearance. Some Elriels continue to argue the book points out to Elain's book. . . However Az had A MAJOR part it the book. I believe he deserves HIS story to be told.

Az definitely deserves to have his story told, and I believe that Elain isn't the right person for him to share it with.

SJM tends to follow a formula that works well for her. She often pairs characters who have experienced trauma, allowing them to relate to each other and help each other heal.

To me, it seems that SJM isn't overly concerned with how one character feels about another, as the plot is the primary focus. Throughout her books, she has portrayed pairs that start at opposite ends of the spectrum and end up in completely different places. What matters to SJM is how well-matched and similar her planned couples are. She's not necessarily changing her formula; rather, she's now emphasizing why Gwyn is perfect for Az and why Lucien is perfect for Elain, something that was lacking in both ToG and CC

The main takeaway from the series for me is that both Cassian and Rhys have reached a level of self-assurance where they can accept their own flaws. It's simply a matter of finding someone who can accept them for who they are.

It's significant to note that both Cassian and Rhys have expressed their fears but haven't shied away from sharing them with their partners. Az explicitly states in his BC that he's afraid to open up to Elain, and I don't believe it's Elain's responsibility to reassure him. That's something Azriel needs to work through on his own.

The dynamics between Azriel and Gwyn are different. Azriel refrains from touching Gwyn not because he fears tainting her but because he's aware of her discomfort with physical contact. He finds solace in Gwyn's presence and is less focused on his insecurities when he's with her compared to when he's alone with Elain.

Azriel's behavior towards Gwyn aligns more with mate behavior. He constantly considers her comfort, abilities, strengths, goals, and reactions, which was lacking in his interactions with Elain.

HOFAS spoilers ahead

We have ample evidence that Az is refusing to embrace his Illyrian heritage, only to discover that the Illyrians rebelled against the Daglans, and he wields the weapon of the Illyrian who led that rebellion—a figure now idolized and memorialized. This revelation is a tremendous burden for Az to bear, especially considering his struggle to see any merit in being Illyrian.

This is a unique struggle that Elain doesn't share. Despite her transformation into a fae, she doesn't exhibit resentment towards her new identity, as evidenced by her active involvement in aiding fae readjustment post-war, similar to Lucien's efforts with humans. Both Elain and Lucien initially harbored prejudiced views towards each other, yet they've both made strides in overcoming these biases.

Elain's main challenge lies in grappling with her mating bond, a struggle Az can't fully comprehend given his intense desire for such a bond. Lucien, on the other hand, was willing to wed without a bond, highlighting another difference in experiences.

While Lucien also deserves to have his story told, it's evident that SJM is currently emphasizing Az's narrative. This suggests that Azriel's journey is distinct from Elain's.

Az deserves to have his story told alongside someone who truly understands him, someone who has decided to step out of the shadows despite the comfort they offer and who comprehends his struggles, particularly regarding his hands.

As for the timing of when to tell Azriel's story, that's a discussion for another time. As a strong supporter of Elucien, I believe Elain's absence in HOFAS indicates that their narrative is next in line to fill the gaps between Nesta's ability to remove the mask to save Feyre and Azriel's need for her to list those she loves.

Nesta's relationship with Elain has yet to fully mend, unlike the understanding reached between Nesta and Feyre by the end of ACOSF as demonstrated by Feyre's support in HOFAS.

Therefore, the question of whose story comes next remains uncertain for me, but fortunately, we won't have to wait long for the next announcement.

#elucien #gwynriel #antie/riel #antielriel

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deathbxnny · 10 months

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YQ's Mother Requestor Anon here! I see the calling of angst so I am here to give! Can I request Mother!Reader and Baby Lai getting attacked with Reader almost dying bc they tried to protect our beloved baby but somehow survived, just in a coma? Yanqing managed to save them by unaliving the attackers like a madman [then Jing Yuan gets flashbacks about Jingliu's rampage on him] and only regains his humanity bc of his sister, then they run to a hospital!

Reader still lives (bc its fun to watch them slowly be traumatized) and heals, both physically and somewhat mentally!

-----♡

A/N: Hey there! Thank you for this great idea and sorry it took 50000 years for me to get to it. Life genuinely hates me lately and I've been extremely busy even on the weekends rn, so yeah... forgive me.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, murder, mentions of murder, injuries, child endangerment, violence, near death, good ending

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

You just wanted to take a quick walk around the Luofu with your baby, as you haven't been able to move around much after her birth. You smiled gently down at her, your hands keeping her close under your cloak, a soft hum of a tune leaving your lips, when you looked out into the distance. The sun was starting to set, bathing the world in a warm, orange hue. It was peaceful... until it wasn't.

In an instant, you were suddenly attacked by some Mara-struck soldiers, your body scrambling backwards, as you tightly clutched onto your baby. You had accidentally wandered out of the safe zones, completely distracted by the beauty of the area to really notice where you were going. You should've been more careful and yet, it was too late to regret everything now, when a next attack came swinging at the direction of your child.

You quickly turned away, taking the hit fully, your body skidding across the floor violently. But you still made sure that your child wasn't injured, even when she began to cry. Your head hit the ground, disorienting you, as the injury began to bleed. And whilst you were struggling to lift your head, your hands still so desperately holding your baby close to you, familiar swords suddenly appeared in your blurry vision. You could barely hear anything anymore, but when you saw the rough outline of your son, you let out a relieved sigh and just finally passed out, knowing that you and your baby were saved.

The enemies however stood no chance against Yanqing's wrath, as he practically ripped them all apart, even ditching his swords at one point. He was angry, beyond enraged. The thought of someone hurting his mother and little sibling was making him delirious and it took 5 cloud knights and eventually Jing Yuan to drag him off of whatever was left of the attackers. Jing Yuan was irked by how familiar the sight was, a memory of a distant, dark past flashing through his mind, before he quickly forgot it at the soft cries of his infant child.

It also calmed down Yanqing, who slumped in the cloud knights hold and finally just concluded that he had gotten his revenge, before he allowed himself to be taken away. You were brought to a hospital quickly after as well, having taken the brunt of all attacks, which left you quite injured. But the mental scars were arguably worse. It took you a while to be able to go outside again, the paranoia over something like that happening once more being always on the forefront of your mind. Your child also never left your eye sight, as you kept her in arms reach at all times.

Jing Yuan and Yanqing supported you greatly through your recovery journey, making you heal in no time again, for the most part. The scars and fears would always stay... even if they just lingered now in the back of your mind.

-----♡

A/N: God... I'm so sorry again for how long this took. I hope it's somewhat okay and that you can forgive me lmao-

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr yanqing #hsr yanqing x reader #hsr

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maikingsenseofit · 2 years

Text

The Problem with Zvtara: Part 2

Continuing off of the last meta, let’s jump into the next analysis. Zuko through the lens of Katara.

The common Zvtara argument here (and I’m paraphrasing, I don’t remember the exact words but they all sound like this) is as follows:

Katara understood and cared about Zuko in a way that nobody else other than Iroh did. The empathy and understanding they display for each other simply cannot be replicated between them and any other character in the series, especially within the Gaang. They can only be themselves with each other and around everyone else they put up a mask or a facade.

Let’s go back to the pivotal Crossroads of Destiny moment. Once again I will emphasize that im not trying to diminish the power of this scene, the moment when two sworn enemies bond over their shared trauma. But just how well did Katara understand Zuko?

Upon seeing his scar, her immediate thought is to use spirit water to heal it. While this is an outstanding demonstration of kindness for someone she is not obliged to show it to, let’s remember that right before this Zuko says:

“It's okay. I used to think this scar marked me. The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. But lately... I've realized that I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark.”

This. Right here. It is so important to understand. Zuko’s scar is so much more than a scar. It represents his trauma from his father, the trials and tribulations he faced to earn Ozai’s approval, and is a further reminder that he is the black sheep of the family both figuratively (a son who could never live up to his title, who could never bend like he was supposed to) and literally (the only member of a pristine royal family with an ugly brand on his face).

But his journey with Uncle Iroh in Ba Sing Se allows him to come to terms this trauma, or moreover this scar. It’s a reminder that we cannot escape our past or try to stifle it. We must embrace it and learn to accept it. It is only then that we are fully liberated from the shackles of our trauma and can fully determine our paths forward.

Katara’s offer to get rid of Zuko’s scar represents a regression of Zuko’s hard earned realization. He had just come to terms with his troubled past and accepts the ephemeral mark on his face. He even wears it with pride. He doesn’t try to hide his past or stifle his trauma, not anymore. It is an integral part of who he is. It is what makes Zuko, Zuko.He vocalizes this to Katara immediately before this. Katara however, fails to understand the significance and the journey behind this mark, largely in part because she wasn’t there to witness it. Her attempt to heal his scar falls flat in several ways, but one main reason is because just because something is healed physically, doesn’t mean it’s healed emotionally. But it’s important to consider something else here: Zuko never explicitly asks Katara or verbalizes a desire to get rid of his scar. Based on the earlier conversation, he’s finally gotten around to embracing it and welcoming the significance behind it. What Katara offers is in stark contrast to what he said. He allows her to touch his scar, but it is evident that she would never heal it. Why?

From Belen Edwards, despite the traumatic memories associated with his scar, Zuko never seems particularly ashamed of it. Throughout season 1, his hairstyle ensures that it's completely exposed, showing his identity to the world. In the second season, Zuko tells Katara that he's beginning to accept that he won't be rid of the scar.

And yet despite hearing the last part, Katara still offers a solution to Zuko to get rid of it.

This is where we see that the so called deep understanding and caring that Zuko and Katara held for each other is beginning to crack. Where is Katara’s deep and profound, soul-ular (get it, like cellular?) understanding of Zuko that no one else, other than Iroh, had of him? It begs us to ask if Iroh was in that room, given the journey he embarked on with his nephew both physically and emotionally, would he have encouraged Katara to get rid of this mark? The answer is obviously no. If there is a deep vulnerability and intimacy that they share with each other, and no one else, it does seem pointless given on both ends neither understands the full depth of the other’s situation. This is exemplified by Zuko immediately forgetting his entire interaction with Katara (but not His interaction with Aang interestingly) afterwards and still failing to understand why Katara was mad at him, even AFTER she explicitly tells him. And this is exemplified by Katara not fully acknowledging and understanding Zuko’s acceptance of his scar and offering a surface level solution that will never address the emotional significance and tribulations that come with it. Nothing against either of the characters by the way, and I need to emphasize that in bold font. I am simply observing their interactions and dispelling these “Word of God”-like claims.

Consider Zuko’s interactions with Mai. When he first sees her after years of banishment she gently his scar and touches in it not in an attempt to get rid of it, but because it is a part of Zuko. And when it comes to kissing Zuko, it means touching his scar, touching him in his entirety- including his physical and emotional marks. There’s a deliberate reason why the storyboard artists included Zuko’s scar in the scene. Because she’s known Zuko her whole life and was there when he first received it. Zuko and his scar are not two separate entities for her. They are one and the same.

She is able to reconcile that he not only the prince of the fire nation, tasked with the impossible, but also a broken kid who had a tumultuous background and never received enough love. Which is why after he divulges the root of her pain to her and their friends, she breaks free from her emotional, careless facade , makes herself vulnerable in front of Azula, to emphasize that she cares about him, despite his imperfections.

In a good faith interpretation, I must acquiesce that Mai has known Zuko for her entire life and Katara for far less than that. But to reiterate, this is to dispel the misconception that Katara knew and understood Zuko better than anybody in his life, ever, maybe except for Iroh, and that this was exemplified from their very first interaction as potential allies. And that is why they’re soulmates - because they had that instant connection and innate understanding. That is simply not true.

Now let’s dispel this other claim: that Katara was the only one that Zuko could ever open up to in the Gaang, and unlike his canonical love interest who shut him down. I’ve already went over this argument several times, but in case you need the reminder: Mai did not shut Zuko down when he was divulging the root of his pain and confusion at the Beach. She was genuinely curious and helped Zuko through his tumultuous time with Azula and Ty Lee, and reaffirmed her care for him at the end. She also did not shut Zuko down when he explains to her how the meeting with his father went. She was genuinely curious and provided to be a safe and effective sound board for him. She listens to him fully when he talks about he wasn’t himself, but rather the caricature of the perfect fire nation prince in the meeting. She did not shut him down out of boredom or because she was uncomfortable acknowledging his feelings. This represents character development after her first interaction(s) with Zuko, Azula, and Ty Lee. She gives Zuko the opportunity to open up about his decision to leave her in the boiling rock. She allows him to explain himself - Even if she didn’t completely understand how he wasn’t betraying his country, largely due to the years of indoctrination that the fire nation instills in every citizen. From @thethiefandtheairbender “Although Mai, understandably, disagrees, she still hears him out. She came here, ultimately, for a better explanation because she knows there must be one. She still debates and engages.” It is canonically and undeniably sourced that she allows Zuko to open up to her on multiple occasions, and he does. Yet all I see is Zvtara shippers, not all, use their first interaction to characterize Mai and her relationship with Zuko. Like we see in this very argument.

But outside of Mai, let’s address the claim that Katara was the only one that Zuko could ever open up to in the Gaang and that she had this deep understanding of him that no one else had. They bring up Katara asking Zuko what’s wrong when he’s about to meet Iroh again. What we see here is Katara asking a very simple and sweet question. She offers Zuko a word of encouragement. Both of these are very indicative of normal friendships and shows that on some level, she cares about him as a friend and a human. But there is no deeper or more intimate understanding or vibe to this. What’s she’s showing here is a common courtesy to ask what’s wrong and a standard note of encouragement. She knows, like the rest of the Gaang, that Zuko has tried very hard to redeem himself, that he doesn’t have any evil intentions, and that his uncle, more than anyone, will forgive him when he apologizes.

But isn’t this the exact same thing we see occur with Zuko and Toph? Zuko also opens up to Toph about his turmoil and guilt over betraying his uncle. She, like Katara,understands the depth of Zuko’s angst. And like a good friend and someone who is deeply insightful, she tells Zuko exactly what he needs to hear and makes him feel better. That his uncle is indeed proud of Zuko and he doesn’t have to do much else to earn his forgiveness.

Does this mean that Toph had a more intimate and deeper understanding of Zuko, when in reality in both instances, this is how you show affection and empathy for a friend? Does this make Toph the best romantic match for Zuko?

The last claim: but Katara was the first person to see Zuko’s capacity to change and she saw the good in him!

Actually, that was Aang. Aang was the first person to see the inherent good in Zuko, to understand that maybe his intentions weren’t all that evil and that he was confused, not an innately evil person.

From the Reddit:

And unlike with his interaction with Katara, Zuko actually remembers this one with Aang and even references it later.

And Zuko opens up to Aang completely and quite in depth in the Siege of the North. He talks to him at great length about how everything always came so easily to Azula and how he resents Aang because of this. It is here where Zuko first verbalized how confused, frustrated, and unloved he is. And although we don’t know if Aang heard him, one can assume he knows all this about Zuko by now, because he makes the deliberate decision to save Zuko and bring him along instead of letting him freeze to death (even though Aang wouldn’t let anyone go like that).

There’s this one other claim that Katara and Zuko are the only two characters to have parallel arcs that are marked by the same foundational events (the loss of their mothers) that enable them to have this deep intimate understanding of each other that no one else does. While Zuko’s loss of his mother (although she never dies, he just doesn’t know where she is) is an important part of Zuko’s life it does not define his entire arc. Nor does it for Katara.

Here’s what parallel arcs marked by the same foundational events actually looks like. From the Avatar wiki, this is a long one and complete credits to the author who wrote this!

Despite Aang being the clear protagonist and Zuko initially being the main antagonist, their stories were often paralleled in the narrative structure of the show. Flashbacks of the incidents that changed their respective lives forever, Aang being told that he was the Avatar and subsequently running away, and Zuko's Agni Kai against his father and subsequent scarring and loss of his honor, were shown side-by-side.[5] Their attempts to progress in their bending while impeded by psychological blocks were also shown side-by-side.[30] They were both marked men, with Aang having his arrow tattoos all over his body, while Zuko had a large scar on his left eye given to him by his father.[5] Scenes of Aang struggling to cope with an unexpected betrayal from an Earth Kingdom general morphed smoothly into Zuko facing a similar betrayal from his sister.[7] Aang was shown displaying the same frustration about the loss of his honor as Zuko, echoing the same frustration Zuko had been uttering for the first two seasons, "I need to redeem myself. I need my honor back."[11] Both Zuko and Aang found out about their interconnected fates, with Aang being the reincarnation of Avatar Roku and Zuko being Roku's direct descendant as Roku's granddaughter was Zuko's mother.[32] Both characters, at some point, stated that they were ready to face the Fire Lord. Aang intended to do battle with Ozai, while Zuko was ready to confront his father about his feelings and choices. During that confrontation, he announced his intention to join the Avatar and helped him defeat Fire Lord Ozai. Zuko's confrontation with his father was mirrored by Aang’s battle with Azula.

So there’s the deconstruction of the argument that Katara and Zuko understood each other in a way that nobody else ever did or could, that they could fully be themselves around each other and no one else, and that they had similar arcs defined by the same foundational event that no one else shared with them. In the earlier meta, we saw just how much Zuko really connected with Katara in the catacombs, by immediately forgetting her act of profound trust and never mentioning it again, only to be completely stupefied when she brought it up. He connects the anger she has with him with the loss of her mother, even though they aren’t that related. If it wasn’t for her voicing her displeasure in front of the entire group, he would have never sought to make amends with her personally. He redeemed himself in her eyes out of conditional necessity, not out of a deep care or love for her that people will staunchly claim they saw.

The only thing I can give to Zvtarians is the timeline. With Zuko and Katara, we had a very linear progression from when they were enemies, to allies, to friends - which coincides with the end of the Avatar show. But love, outside of fiction, is not linear. It is marred by disagreements and makeups, kisses and fights, that co-occur, not one after the other. Often times, we make up before all of our issues are resolved in it’s entirety. That’s why I stand behind Bryke’s decisions on the canon ships.

Until next time!

#anti zutara #heavy emphasis on anti cause i’m not about to go through this again #zuko #avatar the last airbender #mai #maiko #atla maiko #katara #aang #kataang

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chaoticwhispersworld · 10 months

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Today, I want to open up about something that's been weighing heavily on my heart lately - the feeling of complete destruction after going through a breakup with someone who was not only my partner but also my best friend. Breakups can be devastating, but when you lose both romantic and platonic connections simultaneously, it can feel like your world has been shattered into a million pieces.

When a breakup like this happens, it's not just the loss of a romantic relationship we mourn; it's the loss of a confidante, a support system, a kindred spirit who knew us intimately. It's losing someone who was a huge part of our daily lives, someone we shared laughter, tears, and countless memories with. It's the sudden absence of that familiar presence that leaves us feeling hollow and utterly destroyed.

The aftermath of such a breakup can be both chaotic and excruciatingly painful. We may find ourselves in a seemingly bottomless abyss, questioning everything we thought we knew about ourselves and the world around us. It's as if the very foundation of our lives has crumbled, leaving us feeling lost, betrayed, and overwhelmed by the devastation.

Yet, amidst this destruction, we find an unexpected strength within ourselves. We discover an inner resilience we didn't know we had, as we pick up the shattered fragments of our lives and begin the process of rebuilding. It's in this dark abyss that we learn to embrace our own strength and redefine our sense of self.

During this healing journey, it's important to give ourselves permission to grieve the loss fully. Allow yourself to feel the pain, the anger, the sadness - these emotions are valid and necessary for healing. Surround yourself with a supportive network of friends, family, or online communities who can offer understanding, encouragement, and a shoulder to lean on.

In the midst of the chaos, take the time to reconnect with yourself. Engage in self-care activities that bring you solace, whether it's journaling, practicing mindfulness, or pursuing new hobbies. Rediscover your passions, desires, and dreams that may have been overshadowed by the relationship. Use this time to focus on personal growth and self-discovery.

Remember, healing is not linear, and it takes time. Be patient with yourself, and don't rush the process. Know that you are strong, resilient, and capable of navigating these stormy waters. Eventually, the clouds will part, and you'll emerge stronger and wiser, ready to embrace new beginnings.

To all those who have experienced the devastation of a breakup with their partner and best friend, I see you, I hear you, and I'm sending you strength and love. Remember, destruction paves the way for growth, and you have the power to rebuild a life that is even more beautiful than before.

#breakup #journal #online diary #personal growth #pain #writing #writing stuff #relationship

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moonliitneed · 2 months

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Update on my hiatus

CW: mentions of coercion, negative self imagine and self relationship…. and potentially bad grammar and typos

So, i’ve been thinking a bit about my possible eventual return. I’ve no idea how long i’d like this hiatus to be or if i want to truly come back or not. But i want to have a candid conversation about why i chose to take a hiatus and how it’s effecting me.

As for the why:

I was reaching a point where i was completely unable to look at my body in anyway shape or form. Every time I’d log in, i would see someone who i think is beautiful and i would look at them and realize i don’t think anyone actually thinks that way about me. And i know/knew that i definitely don’t feel that way about me. I think i started to attach the value of myself to a number or to comments and interactions i was getting. and as that became less and less, so did my opinion of my body and my person. I’ve never had a good relationship with my body. In the beginning tumblr and all of this really did help to improve the relationship i has with myself. I felt sexy, i felt desirable, i felt pretty for the very first time in my life. it was the first time i didn’t feel like i was disgusting everyone by just having the body that i do. I’ve never had any irl interactions to make me feel that way or that have allowed me to explore who i am sexually. And all of this was allowing me to do it, for a while. Eventually it started to feel too much like a performance. Like i was no longer getting any joy or pleasure out of what i was doing. That i was only doing it because i felt like that’s what was being expected of me.

at some point i was so concerned with pleasing other people and appearing desirable that i just stopped being fully honest about things i actually enjoy and things that i don’t. I’d like to say right here and right now that there has been absolutely ZERO coercion with another party towards me. There was no true external pressure that pushed me to make these decisions, it was fully my own doing. I am not trying to put blame on anyone but myself and i’m sure as hell not trying to worry anyone who has had any sort of sexual encounter with me.

To return to what I was saying, I started to push my boundaries in a way that was not healthy, i’m not entirely sure why i was doing that, but. i did.

I started to loose any desire i had towards existing sexually with others and my libido was basically gone.

Originally, i put this entirely on stress and hormones

However, to move on to how this hiatus has effected me:

I have felt so much better in these almost 20 days than i have in a while. I’m starting to feel a bit more like myself. However, i think the damage i’ve done to my relationship with my body is going to take a longer time to heal. I’ve also, recently started a new journey in terms of my sexuality/identity, i think i have a lot to think about. i feel that what i had going here, may interfere with that journey.

I am still periodically checking in. I think I may come back for text posts at some point in the near future, but other than that, i’m unsure of my return. Again, mutuals, please feel free to reach out for contact info :))

#i’ll be check in through out the night #life updates with angel #angel’s hiatus

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tinytiger · 2 months

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The Hobbit- A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

The Unexpected Party

Masterlist

In the heart of Middle-earth, (Y/N), daughter of an elven king and a dwarf embarks on a quest to reclaim her heritage. Joining Thorin Oakenshield's company, she finds herself drawn to Kili, a dwarf prince. As they journey towards Erebor, (Y/N) confronts the challenges of her mixed bloodline and discovers the true meaning of family. Amidst laughter and camaraderie, she uncovers secrets buried within the mountain and embraces her role as a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Words- 3594 x

The arrow hit its target.

“Yes!” a h/c hair elf cheered, only she wasn’t an elf she had dwarf blood in her too. Most of her was dwarf, she would live as long as them, and she would be as tall as a normal she-dwarf, but she had elf ears, could speak fluent elvenish and could use elven healing, which she only used on herself and her father.

Sighing, she began to walk back to where she had tied up her pony. She thought back to yesterday when her dream had been turned away from her just because of her protective father.

*Flashback*

As Y/n dusted the wood shavings off of her apron she began humming a song she remembered her mother sung to her back when she was alive. Of course, she remembered her real mother and father, but they never came to get her back. News that the young elf princess had been missing travelled fast across Middle Earth, but no one connected it to Y/n. As she walked out of her room to place the arrow she had just finished making with her stuff outside she heard Bilbo’s raised voice echo through the door that had been painted only a week ago.

“There will be no adventures around here! Thank you and-“

Y/n stuck her head out of the door and her eyes met the dazzling colour that belonged to a wizard she knew quite well.

“Adventure?” she asked completely stepping out of the door and standing next to her father, her beautiful eyes glinting as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Why, Ms Y/n. Yes I do believe you two would be perfect for the vacancies!” exclaimed Gandalf as he chuckled at the whooping young lady in front of her.

“Yes, I would love to go, when, where, what are we doing? Is there the option I might die? it sounds like I’m in!” Y/n cheered running up to where she hid the bow and sword from Bilbo, who in surprise and shock thought that those two things were in the bottom of his drawers Y/n was never allowed to touch.

“No way on Middle Earth are you going on this adventure!” Bilbo shouted as she jumped over the wall of his front garden. Y/n’s head shot up as looked at him with utter disappointment.

“But Father I-“

“Don’t you dare ‘but father’ me young lady, we talked about this. I hid that from you for a reason.” Gandalf looked at the two and smiled.

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but I will not allow you to infect her mind with ideas of this adventure you speak of. Come over for tea, tomorrow. Yes come over tomorrow and don’t talk about adventure with my daughter. Umm, good day!”

And with that, he closed the door swiftly but not to seem rude, after all, wizards were wizards.

He sighed, Y/n was in the kitchen. Her shoulders slumped.

Bilbo sighed again, he hated arguing with her, and she always won.

“When did you take the swords and bow from my draws?” he asked as he sat at the table drinking his cup of tea.

Y/n chuckled and said with a smile adorning on her face, “ When you came back from Mister Gamgees about 7 years ago. You were a bit on the booze, so I saw the opportunity and dashed into your drawing room. They have been hidden in the bush outside, in a case I bought.”

She had fully turned around her green dress waving around her feet like the sea.

Bilbo laughed and pushed a cup of tea towards her, the two spent the night playing cards until the moon was high in the sky.

*End of Flashback*

Y/n noticed how dark it was and quickly got on her black pony Stumpy and quickly rode home. Bilbo had told her to be back before it got dark for tea. She was doing this to hope that Bilbo would let her go on the adventure of her lifetime.

When she arrived at the hobbit's house, she quickly tied up Stumpy. She pushed the door open, and a sight met her eyes she would never forget:

Four dwarves were pushing and pulling on a table that wouldn’t go through a door, Bilbo was trying to stop them and as soon as she walked through the door all five heads turned to see her. Y/n chuckled, hung up her cloak, unbuckled the sword hustler from her waists that held only her to daggers and placed her weapons on a chair to her left. She looked back at the dwarves and saw two young ones and two old ones.

“Ummm. Who is the lass?” one said. He had a shaved head and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

“This is Y/n, my adopted daughter,” Bilbo said as he wiped the sweat from his eyebrows.

Suddenly all four dwarves dropped the table and stood in a line to greet her. First, a dwarf who had white hair and his name was Balin, then a blonde dwarf with a beard who was called Fili, then came the one who asked you who she was, and his name was Dwalin, then finally a very handsome dwarf kissed her hand and winked at her.

He had brown curly hair which fell down to his shoulder and brown eyes that sparkled, he unlike his brother Fili, had only some small stubble. His name was Kili. Blushing, she went to help Bilbo get the table of his foot.

“Why, on middle earth are there four dwarves here? She hissed to Bilbo. He quite loudly whispered back to her glaring at them.

“No clue.” Y/n quickly went to her room and pulled her hair over her ears.

Dwarves and Elves never had a good relationship, and she had the idea they knew a lot more about her than she would like.

When she left her room, she was met by a lot more dwarves than there were originally. Then Y/n stopped as she saw Gandalf talking to a dwarf with a grey beard and holding a tray.

She stomped over and asked, “Gandalf who are these…. dwarves.”

Trying not to sound too rude she didn’t want to call them a name she would regret.

“My dear Y/n these are the dwarves of Erebor, we have Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. We are one short though.” Gandalf said pointing at each dwarf at the sound names then sighing.

“He went to see our kin, in the iron hills. He will be here soon.” Dwalin said leaning against the doorway.

Y/n walked over to the table and sat down between Kili and Bofur. Then Fili walked onto the table passing everyone a beer and stopping at her. She raised an eyebrow and took the mug out of his hands.

She slushed the beer around in its mug. Y/n had had this beer before, and she liked it. Looking up she saw every dwarf looking at her with now wet beards as they had all downed their beers.

“Come, lass,” Bofur said slapping her on the back. Then Y/n spotted Bilbo looking at her shaking his head at her. She smirked at him shrugging her shoulders she knocked her head back as she downed the beer.

Not spilling a drop.

When she placed the mug back down, she looked around at the dwarves, mouths open, very wide. Bilbo huffed and threw his arms in the air. Then she felt an arm go around her shoulders, she looked up to meet chocolate brown eyes. She felt her face warm up, then she moved backwards.

Only to fall into Bofur, who moved backwards, making Y/n fall off the table and bagging her head. A burst of laughter erupted from the room. Then Kili wrapped his arms under Y/n and pulled her up to sit next to him.

“So, lass, what’s a young girl like you doing slushing down beer like a dwarven maiden,” Balin said. Y/n felt her heart drop.

“I’m part dwarf and-,” Y/n said staring at her mug.

“An elf?” Balin said as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Y/n looked up and the dwarfs were all smiling.

“Lass, don’t worry your head, we know what you are!” Dwalin said smacking her in the back.

“You do!” She expressed.

To her left Kili put his arm around her and smiled.

“Of course, many dwarves have fallen for elves before!” Kili winked at the group as Y/n’s face grew hot. She stood up and went to find Bilbo. He was not enjoying the company as much as she was. He was whisper-shouting at Gandalf.

“And I don’t even want to mention what they have done in the toilet.” Y/n giggled as she walked up to Bilbo and said, “I think they are lovely, and maybe they could tell me a bit about my mother.”

Then Ori came over to them and asked.

“I am sorry to interrupt but where shall I put my plate?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak but then Fili said.

”Here Ori give it here.” Then he threw it over his head towards Kili who caught it and then threw it back into the kitchen.

“Hey, I need my head,” Y/n said as the second plate narrowly missed her if she hadn’t ducked. Then Biblo ran back into the kitchen where the table had been placed Y/n heard Kili sing:

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Y/n looked up at him and smiled then Fili sang.

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates.

The rest of the dwarves joined in

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Laughing Y/n joined in ducking at the odd plate or so. Then Kili jumped next to her and started to spin her around. Her h/c hair followed behind her.

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat.

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat.

Pour the milk on the pantry floor.

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls.

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll.

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

After what felt like hours of dancing and ducking, Y/n finally stopped next to Kili, who had a little pipe in his hand. All the dwarves were laughing, and Y/n was chuckling earning a look from Bilbo.

Then a loud harsh knock Bilbo rushed to get it and Y/n followed after Gandalf said hoarsely

“He is here”.

In front of Y/n and Bilbo was a handsome dwarf who had deep blue eyes, Y/n had recognised him and by the looks of it, so did he.

Then he walked in through the door and mumbled something about getting lost twice, but Y/n didn’t hear.

She was too busy trying to remember where she had seen him before when something Gandalf had said brought her out of her trance.

“This is Bilbo and Y/n is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Y/n looked up and gasped.

She remembered something, her mother.

On her birthday, her best friend Dis visited she showed the two a picture of her sons and brother, Thorin was the brother. Then Thorin looked at Biblo, not noticing the girl standing to his left. He did not look impressed,

“What is your weapon of choice axe or sword?” Y/n mentally face palmed herself when she heard the words coming out of Bilbo’s mouth.

“I am quite skilled at conkers if you must not, but I see no reason on how that is at all relevant.” Sighing Thorin looked at Gandalf and said, “Are we making any more stops, I said to find the 14th and 15th members of the company. I only see one.”

Y/n stepped out of the dark corner she slunked herself into.

“Good to see you to Thorin.” Thorin then spun around to see a spitting image of his sister’s best friend standing in front of him.

“There Thorin is our 15th member,” Gandalf said pointing to Gwen. She smirked but then it dropped when Fili opened his mouth and spoke.

“But Gandalf she is a girl, I bet she can’t even defend herself.” With a flash, Y/n pulled a dagger out of her pocket and threw it at Fili, narrowly missing his face but cutting off some of his beard and ramming into the wall behind him. Bilbo gasped and the rest of the company chuckled.

“You’re Namath’s daughter aren’t you,” Thorin said as he walked over to the kitchen table, nodding his head to his kin.

“Yes, I am,” Y/n said following him and making him a plate of food.

Thorin chuckled as he sat down. Then the rest of the company joined him. Y/n stood at the corner of the table until Kili beckoned her over. Y/n walked over and squatted beside him.

“How do you know my uncle?” He said looking down at her, his eyes counting each freckle on her nose.

“He knew my mother,” Y/n said standing up again after her thighs started to hurt her. She began to walk away but then Kili grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit next to him and Fili. Then Y/n lent towards Fili and said,

“Sorry about earlier, I just hate it when people say stuff like that.” Fili chuckled and said back

“It's fine, you can defend yourself.”

Y/n wanted to talk to Thorin about her mother, but more important things stood in the way. Gandalf was telling us about some map when she noticed him pull out a key from his sleeve. Thorin looked at it as if it were a puppy that just spoke.

“If there’s a key, there must be a door,” Fili said. Y/n smiled at the thought she would be helping the company get back to their home and her mother’s old home.

Then the dwarves started to shout about something when Thorin stood and shouted

“Ath gjorv!” Y/n understood what he had said. As a young child, her mother had taught her Dwarvish, and she still spoke it but only she wanted to swear. All the dwarves fell silent, and then Thorin said.

”The dragon, Smaug hasn’t been seen for 60 years. So, we still cannot just go barging in.” They all looked down and Ori said,

“We will never get our home back.”

Y/n felt Kili move forward, and his knee moved towards hers.

“But you don’t remember we have Gandalf on the team, I bet he has killed thousands of Dragons in his time.” He said smiling at every dwarf.

Y/n looked up and saw Gandalf go pink with embarrassment, and instantly Y/n could tell that he had killed 0 dragons in his time. Then all the dwarves started to cheer again and even Y/n joined in this time, she would help get these dwarfs their home back, even if Bilbo said she couldn’t.

“You will need a burglar then.” Y/n looked up to see Bilbo had walked behind Thorin.

“And an expert one too.” Y/n laughed, Bilbo was walking straight into this one.

“And are you?” Oin asked leaning forward.

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked scratching his head.

“He says he is an expert!” All the dwarves cheer again but Bilbo cuts them off by shouting

“I am not a burglar! Neither is Y/n... I think.”

Kili and Fili start to chuckle.

“Well, there were a few times when I was out of arrows, and I used to get some from Mr. Jones. But then again I was 50.” Y/n said earning a glare from Bilbo.

“I am afraid I agree with Mr Baggins, he is no Burglar, but the lass has shown great skill in defending herself, maybe she would like to come?” Balin said looking at Bilbo and then y/n who nodded her head as Balin passed her a contract.

But before she could get it out of the old man’s hands Bilbo snatched it away from her. Y/n got up and walked over to him as he read.

“Incineration!” Bilbo said after struggling to say the word for some time.

“Oh yeah, Smaug would melt the flesh right off your bones,” Bofur said leaning around the doorway. Then Y/n grabbed the contract and lifted it higher so Bilbo couldn’t reach it. As she read through the pages, her heart lifted with every sentence, this looked like fun and she would get a 15th share. Then she said earning looks from the company,

“Many ways to die, sounds like my kind of adventure.” Then she turned around and saw Bilbo lying on the floor. She sighed; he had fainted.

“Thanks for that Bofur.” y/n heard Gandalf say as he moved forward and helped Y/n carrying Bilbo into a chair.

After Bilbo had been placed in the chair, Y/n went to get a quill to sign the contract. She smiled looking down at the long curvy signature. She was going on an adventure, to claim back her mother's homeland. Then she remembered she had wanted to ask Thorin about her mother, so she found him talking to Balin. She handed over the contract and looked at Thorin.

“So, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about my mother?” she asked after Balin walked away. Thorin smiled at her.

“Sure, thing lass, well where do I begin? She looked exactly like you to start with, and…. She was a really good friend of mine, She and Dis were best friends so, she also was an exceptionally good fighter.” He said trying to remember what her mother was like.

“But she went for a long expedition to visit her uncle in the iron hills, when Orcs had attacked her, she had put up a good fight, but one Orc came behind her, and she fainted. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a bed with your father looking at her. Dis visited her twice, one time when she was pregnant with you and then when you were born, she gave you a bow, which I saw on the chair by the door.”

Y/n laughed. Her mother was exactly how she wanted to know her. But what she didn’t know was how she died.

“Do…. Do you know how she died?” she asked. Thorin’s eyes fell, staring at the ground. Thorin did know how the young woman’s mother died but he didn’t want to tell afraid that she would go after the one responsible for her mother’s death.

“No, Y/n I do not know. I am deeply sorry.” Thorin said pulling Y/n into a warm hug.

After the little pep talk with Thorin, Y/n found Biblo was awake and talking to Gandalf, but being the sneaky girl, she was she just listened in to their conversation.

“Gandalf will you make sure me and (y/n) both come back, I know she wants to go on an adventure it’s probably her mother shining in her as I am told, but… I am not going.” Gandalf sighed and Y/n walked away head hung low.

As she walked out of the billiard room, she heard Balin say. “I believe we have lost our burglar, but we have 14 which is better.” She smiled at him and went to sit on the stool by the fire. After staring at it for a couple of minutes all the dwarves came in and started to sing.

Far over the misty mountain cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day.

To seek our pale enchanted gold.

Y/n had loved the singing of the dwarves. It was so peaceful and calm. She also remembered this tale, her mother used to sing it when she was younger, and she would always laugh when she tried to do a very deep voice.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells.

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In place deep, where dark things sleep.

In hallow halls beneath the fells

Bilbo could hear the singing from the billiard room, he was thinking of dragons and fire and gold. Then a fire lit inside him and he wanted to hold a sword instead of a walking stick. Then he shook his head, he was being silly.

For ancient kings and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped a wrought, and light they caught.

To hide in gems on the hilt of sword

On silver necklaces, they strung

The flowering stars on crowns they hung.

The dragon fire in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountain cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day.

To find our long-forgotten gold.

By the end of the song, Y/n and Bilbo were fast asleep. Gandalf pulled on a blanket over Bilbo, while Thorin picked up Y/n bridal style and placed her on the sofa in front of the fire, kicking Bofur off it. Then he leaned over the girl's sleeping body and kissed her forehead.

#kili x reader #kili durin #hobbit #xreader

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wakeishasunshine · 2 years

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❤December "Becoming Her" Challenge❤

I know I am late but here we go! December Challenge is all for prepping for the New Year! Its not the typical "New Year, New Me", its the New Year, Better Me. Because we don't have to be a whole new person, yes we can recreate ourselves, but we are looking to be healed, find better habits, and just become the better, healthier, healed, spiritual, happier, wealthier and peaceful person we can be. And yes, sometimes that means recreating ourselves but we can start from here to start on the process of bettering ourselves. GYST December

Take a moment and think about who this girl is becoming.

Create the mood board for the new year. (you can do this on Canva/PowerPoint/Notion. You can also reference my last post about making your mood board. Will link somewhere.) This is the big mood board. Take inspo from anywhere and put it all together and watch your vision blossom.

If your new to this journey, please take it easy on yourself. (Baby steps, do not overwhelm yourself with what everyone else's journey is looking like.) Remember comparing is only going to create self sabotage.

Start making lists (whether you write it down or put it in your phone/tablet. Ex.- Food shopping list, intentions, short/long term goals, Intentions, etc.)

Start setting intentions for yourself.

Start checking in to your spiritual side. Get books and search YouTube and podcasts. You need to be standing ten toes down in this. (The world is a shit show so you need to start being solid in yourself so the outside world doesn't bring you down. If your not religious or spiritual that's also fine, so this means you need to tap into yourself a little more.) Remember religion is something that gives people hope.

PURGE: Start making to do list for a month long declutter. (Try one room a week to fully go through everything and get rid of anything you haven't touched in six months to a year. You can either throw it out/donate or sell. Also declutter anything that makes you feel bad about yourself. (This could mean social media, people, places.)

Think about how you want your space to feel, say and look like for you. (please don't try to just be trendy if the trend doesn't speak to you. Go with your flow and what makes you feel like this is home)

Make a list of things you want to try to do. (This could be going back to school, fashion trends, places to travel to, restaurants you want to try)

Take your self care into focus. (Make a list of things you want to implement into self care along with a monthly budget sheet. We will be saving this year while keeping our self care together.)Also you don't need to spend a whole lot of money to do self care. Lets normalize self care on a budget that fits our own lifestyles.

Make a jar of ways to love on yourself, or affirmations, or date nights for yourself.

If you find yourself having trouble with your goal list start small. Remember everything is attainable, but we have to have grace on ourselves which sometimes means making smaller goals to start with.

Make reminders to take it easy on yourself. Know your going to make mistakes and fall down. Its all about getting back up and moving forward.

Allow yourself space to have rest days. These are important to reset and live in the moment. You can't overwork yourself and expect perfect results. This leads to burn out which can make it harder to complete goals.

Lastly, we have to start putting things into action. Start making strides to put work in. These things won't just happen even with all the prayer/manifestation.

Links to other post:

Lets make self care a part of this new journey.

Lets do this together.

Don't beat yourself up, life will do it enough!

Links down below.

#black girls of tumblr #black excellence #black femininity #black culture #black beauty #self worth #self help #spirituality #self improvement #soft black girls #black community #black girl aesthetic #black fashion #black girl moodboard #black women in leisure #becoming her

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behind-the-scenes-22 · 1 year

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Dreamling Disney Tangled AU

Dream is the King of the Dreaming and Prince of Stories. A benevolent ruler that most citizens of the Dreaming adore yet rules with an iron fist.

However, in the Waking World, Roderick Burgess, in his greed and grief over losing his beloved son, finds that Death could bring him back. Using his skills in magic and the Grimoire he fought tooth and nail for, summons Death. Or so he thinks. Discovering he accidentally summoned Dream, who was taken rather forcefully and has suffered from a head trauma (don't ask, I don't fully know how). The Corinthian, one of Dream's creations, doesn't agree with how Morpheus runs things, so he agrees to help Burgess keep Dream locked away in his basement, full of enchantments that even the Endless wouldn't dare go near.

Upon gaining consciousness, Dream doesn't fully remember who he is but has inklings of being drawn to the Dreaming but doesn't know why. He has these powers but doesn't know why. Roderick, seeing the amnesiac Dream, sees this as an opportunity to use to his advantage. After all, he has Death's baby brother and she would likely do anything to get him back, even meet the demands of a mere human.

However, Roderick grows a sick fascination with Dream, as his ruby, helmet, and sand offer gifts completely unimaginable to the Waking World and Dream himself is a treasure not to be shared, for his beauty knows no bounds as well as the power he holds.

For one hundred years, Dream is kept prisoner in the basement, with only his raven companion, Matthew, to be with him following a concerned Lucienne wanting Dream safe and cared for. Dream is bored and wants to understand himself better, but Father Magus would never let him leave as all he wants is to journey to the Dreaming, a place of wonder and awe.

Enter Hob, a rugged bandit with roguish charm who has heard of the Magus and his treasures (except for Dream, of course) and to keep himself safe from enforcers, he accidentally comes upon Dream and promises to take him to the Dreaming as long as Dream says he gives him the Ruby.

The two journey and slowly fall in love (imagine the Kingdom Dance scene and I See the Light, it's pretty spectacular) only for Hob's associates to knock him out and vow to keep Dream for themselves.

Roderick pretends to save Dream only to say that humanity will destroy the hopes and dreams that Dream is and has. Upon actually seeing the Ruby, Dream remembers his purpose and function, who is as an Endless and says "I'm the lost Prince of Stories. I am the King of the Dreaming, aren't I, Father? Or should I call you that?"

Hob, for his crimes, is jailed and said to be executed only to be saved by the citizens of the Dreaming, Lucienne, Mervyn, Fiddler's Green, Gault, and so on. However, once getting to Dream, The Corininthian stabs Hob with a poisoned knife, leaving him to die. Dream, seeing this, begs Roderick to allow Dream to heal Hob in some way and they can be together forever, just like he wants.

Dream prepares to heal Hob with the Ruby and Hob goes to destroy it, releasing the energy back to Dream and Roderick to turn to dust for the tools were keeping him alive, namely the Ruby.

Hob dies in Dream's arms while Dream begs his sister not to take his love. Death abides and uses her power as well as Dream's, to bring Hob back and give him immortality for he is Dream's one and only.

Dream finds himself back with his siblings and the Dreaming, where he is much kinder and changed for the better.

"You're probably wondering if Dream and I got married. Well, after years of asking, asking, and asking, I finally said yes."

"Hob."

"Alright, I asked him."

"And we're living happily ever after."

"Yes, we are, Sweet Dream, yes we are."

(There could probably be some touches to this but I loved the idea, especially with the Dreamling Enchanted and Sleeping Beauty AUs going around, I thought I'd add my take).

#the sandman 2022 #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #hob x dream #tangled au

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sarilolla · 3 months

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That last fillet really broke my heart, but it got me thinking

In the senecios where only one brother is too late, would that brother go into deep denial?

For example let’s say Floyd’s guilt ran so deep that it’s like his mind broke.

He walks around the bunker cleaning it up because -

“It needs to clean before little Branch is back from playing with his friends”

Walking around holding Branch’s baby blanket but it’s holds it in a way that it seams like he’s holding a baby……

Anyway thanks for the angst brain

Sincerely~ Ghost anon :)

Hi Ghost Anon!!! Thank you for coming with wonderful sadness as always, now it's time to expand on that-

OW- Ouch that hurts, but yeah

I can imagine all four would go in pretty deep denial, but in different ways. Or at least stay differently in the five stages of grief. (Even if grief is not a linear journey and you can jump through the different stages without anything being wrong with the person, as you heal in different ways)

Floyd is as you said, making sure "the hideout" is all safe and clean for his baby brother to get home. He's not completely grey, but he's not colorful anymore either. Holding and cuddling the blanket like he did when Branch was just hatched, and as the proud older brother he was, he wanted to carry the baby everywhere. He would be stuck in denial for a long time, but also bargaining. Not much can pull him out, despite his brothers trying. Poppy, once she processes her own grief more, is probably the person who will have the most luck with him, telling him about the wonderful Troll Branch became.

Clay, I think would also stick around the bunker a lot, but also check on all the traps and such Branch made over the years. He's praising his baby brother for all these wonderful inventions, while part of him is so sad Clay couldn't help cultivate that smart brain and the two of them could have done security for Putt Putt. He leans heavily on Viva, but she's also trying to comfort Poppy (despite the two not fully knowing each other). He would be in the denial stage for a while, but longer in anger and bargaining.

Bruce is a family man, and with so many young kids, he can't fully slip into his grief. He's beating himself up day and night for managing to find a safe place, and not going back for his baby brother so he would be safe too. Brandy would definitely be there, but I think it would take a proper breakdown before he even allows himself to grieve. He would be in denial about as long as Floyd, before he would be full on hit with depression.

John Dory would be devastated. In his mind, this is all his fault. He pushed his brothers and the band, causing them to fall apart, and they left Branch behind. If he hadn't been like that in their youth, maybe Branch would have been alive now? Unfortunatly for his mental health, he seems like the type to hide away both himself and his emotions. He would probably take Rhonda to a deep part of the Pop Forest and stay there, close to where Branch lost his life, but not close enough to cause "more damage". His brothers would have to pull him back, and he would be fully grey. He is also holding tigthyl onto Branch's first hugtime bracelet, a tiny thing that reminds him each hour that he failed. Failed as an older brother. Just like Floyd, it would take a lot to pull him out of the grief. He would also be in the depression stage the longest, on account of denying himself help from others.

Soooo, that got sad-

Thanks for the ask^^

#dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #hanahaki branch #answered asks #ghost anon

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recoverywithgh0ul · 15 days

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-home for lost thoughts-

Things that helped my recovery, and things that definitely didn’t. Obviously recovery is a very personal experience, and things that work for others, may not work for you, and vice versa. I’m just sharing what works for me, so maybe people can either see a different perspective, relate, or find inspiration. General TW for this whole post it will touch on uncensored topics such as calorie counting apps, weight checking, and fear foods. If that’s a lot for you, I’d suggest you skip this post, but i wish you well in your recovery <3

I’m going to start off with the things that absolutely did not help, and if anything, sent me into a complete spiral. Why? Gotta start somewhere, and it’s best always to end on a good note~

———————————————————-

Weight checks- I feel like this is probably a no brainer, but these are probably the worst for me. Even if it was good news it was the eventual “when will i ruin it?” Thought, which would giving up, and lead to a binge, and the whole cycle. Looking back, to avoid this, just shifting my perspective to not going to the all or nothing place honestly would’ve helped a lot. Which is what I’m working on now thankfully :>

Free eating- as I’ve mentioned a lot, i don’t understand what a healthy portion looks like, i was never taught. So going into adulthood like that, really negatively impacted me because when i wanted to get healthy even when i tried i still had no idea what i was doing. Something has countered this, but it’ll be in the next section.

Calorie counter apps- never helped me, they’ve always encouraged obsessive behavior, and also caused shame, especially if i had gone over a few calories. I can see the appeal, but for me- they’ve always done more harm than good.

Feeling like i can’t have certain foods because I’ll lose control- this in the long run as never helped, because then these foods feel forbidden, and when i finally allow myself them- I’ll eat them until I’m sick, but if I incorporate them into a healthy diet, I’ve noticed i actually crave them less. So I’m slowly regaining back my control. And so can you~

Those are the main ones for me. Let’s end this on a good note, and move onto the positive :>

—————————————————————-

Portion plates- it might sound silly or restrictive, but the really do help me, especially if I’m feeling a craving to clean my plate, there’s only so much metaphorical ‘damage’ i can do. For me it works, for everyone, it definitely will not. You should always do what works for you and your body~

Adding in foods I’m craving in moderation, or making healthier dupes- so, just like it says, craving chips? Have a bit, just add something to it. Like some cucumber and hummus, or carrots and cottage cheese. Want cookies? Eat it with some Greek yogurt and fruit. (All suggestions not medical advice) you can have what you’re craving just add something with some bulk so it fills you up~ so you’re satisfying a craving, but also feeling satiated.

Combating limiting beliefs with positive self talk- instead of punishing myself for having a bad thought, or getting mad I’m not ‘fully healed’ trying to practice patience, and self positivity and give myself that mental comfort to heal myself like i know I’m worthy of. Seeking outside validation can only help to a point, because if even you don’t believe it, it’s not going to benefit you. Recovery is a journey healing not only your relationship with food, but your relationship with yourself. And you deserve to finally be healed~

Therapy or coaching sessions- again self explanatory, but super beneficial, especially when you feel hopeless and can’t do it alone. Sometimes even finding resources online, like quick videos on YouTube just to understand things more, or to gain insight or advice. For me personally, the more i understand something, the easier it is for me to tackle it. There are so many great food therapists on instagram especially that share such great advice, that i urge you just to watch a few reels. Help is attainable, i promise it’s not impossible.

That’s all i can really think of for this post, as always, good luck on your journey! Remember you are worth it <3 until next time~

#disordered eating mention #pro recovery #ed recovery #bed recovery #mental health

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