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engagemythrusters · 9 months

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Do you think Luke and Leia ever went to Naboo…

#idk probably in some legends book or smthn #but like really #they are of that world. they belong there. even if they don’t. they belong.#their mother was so loved by her people #they would have been too #they are not just their fathers children.#they are padmes as well #ough im having padme feelings tonight ig #padme amidala #luke skywalker #leia organa #star wars #and they could visit her grave #see how she is written in history (however recent it has been)#see her face in old photos #see dresses she wore as Queen and senator #see the people who loved her #see the people who she loved #yeah… yeah.

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voltfruits · 1 year

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hmm. thinking about how when the party goes into Aubrey's bedroom on One Day Left and she finally apologizes, Kel's immediate reaction is to apologize to her in return. and also thinking about how Aubrey always targets Kel in physical combat but also in her verbal accusations (Aubrey's dialogue upon winning in the church fight is "serves you right, Kel" and she doesn't seem nearly as mad at Sunny despite him actually slashing her with a knife). i know the common fandom perception is that Kel and Aubrey simply drifted apart after Mari died, but... i think it's very likely that something actively bad happened between them, but neither one of them wants to bring it up again. and i definitely feel like Kel secretly blamed himself for Aubrey's downward spiral.

#this is all headcanon ofc but my personal theory is #that after mari was buried aubrey would visit her grave ever day and try to get kel to come to #and eventually kel was like ''are you gonna do anything besides sit by her grave all day? when are you gonna move on and live your life?''#and aubrey (justifiably) took that REALLY badly and then there was a screaming match #i think kel is generally well intentioned and he always wants people to look on the bright side of life #but he doesn't yet realize that it's not appropriate to force positivity on people all the time #idk. he's always forcing himself to fake happiness so i feel like he could force it upon others too #TLDR what if kel and aubrey had a fight like kel and hero except things didn't get better afterwards. are you crying yet #omori #aubrey omori #kel omori #omori headcanons #volt.txt #kelbrey #not romantic ofc but i know kelbrey nation will eat up this angst so. take it #oops there are hella spelling errors in these tags. whatever. L taken

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mercymaker · 1 month

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thinking about astarion, years and years later, lowkey experiencing some pangs of regret (ik ik, him?! but i'd like to think that he matures quite a bit and does something more with his immortal existence than just being a selfish hedonistic prick. sue me)

and an idea came to me. years after above the vaulted sky, when he spends more time with thoriel (who, i think, influences him a bit more than he'd like to admit), he sort of absent-mindedly watches her perform at some inn for a quick buck, it's late in the evening and his mind starts going places. astarion catches a glimpse of thoriel, singing and dancing, effortlessly charming everyone around her, an easy smile and a cheeky wink on her face, and for just a brief moment he thinks how she could've been his. how, in a different time and a different place, maybe he could've been a different person, a better one. mal would tell him how she didn't know how such a different person, so much good spawned from someone like her. where did it all come from. but it happened. so, maybe it wouldn't be different with him as well?

and even if she wasn't a child of his seed, maybe he could've been more present? bit his pride and selfishness, kept it clenched between his teeth and accepted something he didn't want, maybe that was the right choice? he would've had more time with mal. maybe he would've grown to love the girl quicker. maybe he had the capacity to grow into a different person, a better one. for them.

maybe maleane would be alive.

but it's a passing thought. a childish prospect. and while he did become a little softer because of the pink moth, he thinks even those ideas are a bit too optimistic. so he pushes them away behind something more familiar, something that feels more like him. and yet, astarion doesn't completely abandon them.

#the bg3 adventures #astarion #oc: thoriel #oc: maleane #maleane/astarion #hi i just woke up and it's my first thought of the morning #aw man just imagine if he could talk to someone about this hmm #be vulnerable? honest? too bad he buried her years ago #(i mean tbf he does strike me as someone who'd talk to a corpse)#(HOLY SHIT what if he visits the hill!!! the grave!! and just talks???? airs out his grievances #his worries??? keeps mal up to date with stuff??)#is this a bit too much?? did i take too many meds??

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freebooter4ever · 1 year

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Recognize this stepstool/chair? Lol! I scoured antique stores in orange county to find almost an exact copy for my little house in burbank. I know i joked on here about how in having my own place for the first time in my life my main priority seemed to naturally drift towards recreating my grandma callyerdogsoff's house, but i didnt think i was being quite so literal.

#I miss grandma so much #I get to go see her grave tomorrow #Grandpa and i already almost started crying when it was just us because he knows that he will probably never be able to return to this town #To visit her grave again after he and wendy move out #Journal shit #Anyway now that im like an adult with friends who have toddlers #Im not sure if i would actually trust this chair to be something a small child could use #But seriously one of my fondest memories is of climbing onto this chair while fighting with my MANY many cousins over space to draw #On the kitchen chalkboard #Nothing in grandma's house was precious #everything was allowed to be touched or played with if anything broke it was always just oh it has more character now #She liked having kids running around so much #My poor friend jenn in cali keeps having to listen to me talking more and more about kids #Jenn discourages me by reminding me how expensive it is and how i never have any time as it is #And its true and im not going to do anything stupid but #sometimes i get whistful like when i look at silly things like this chair

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trans-leek-cookie · 7 months

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Thinking abt AITSF and the ownership of bodies

#Like my immediate first thought was about Date and [spoiler] and like. Damn. And I realize now the other character I wanna talk abt is also #Super spoiler heavy anyway spoilers for AITSF #Fuckin... it's saitos body but it's Date's body too. Is that fair though? Is Date isn't maliciously or even intentionally taking it Saito i #Literally the problem but like. Does that take away his right to his own body. He made a bad choice that he regrets and refuses to accept #Responsibility/accountability for but also like. That's his fucking body he was born in. And if u take into account the oxytocin thing. Man #Idk its just. He wanted to try rohans body but then he wants his own back. Despite the fact it probably made him miserable.#And dates just hanging out in there but his 'original' body is equally alien bc what the fuck man he's been Date for 6 years and this was #Date's fucking body bc. It just was god damn. So the question is if one of the two somehow deserves the body more. Which I think is #Obv a fucked up question but like. Yknow. You probably shouldn't lose the rights to ur body bc of being a bad person bc yknow human rights #Are human rights but also there's no malintent from date initially and he also Did Not Make The Choice so like. Who gets the body in the #Divorce. Anyway they're both Serial killers so like.#Anyway manaka.... in the warehouse... I could maybe contrast this by saying smthn abt date and Saito being two owners of one body while #Manaka is divorced from her own body. But idk. Manaka wasn't given a proper funeral for a long long time. Would she have wanted one?#Her body helped solve the case but. Damn. She doesn't have any wants bc she dead but still. I don't think anyone would want their body #Frozen like that for years. I think she'd at least want a grave her daughter and friends could visit. But she can't have that #Anyway fuck so sejima I wish he died in canon

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iwantyoursexmp3 · 9 months

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getting emails about my writing ma offer is soo funny like girl i cannot afford you!

#like even if they could help me fund it which i doubt i dont think my ass should be doing an intensive course rn so #also looking at this email id apparently have to be settled and moved there 3 days after my moms birthday which like #my ass is going to be out of town around that time because you know. dead mom birthday!#me visiting my moms grave a year after her diagnosis/for the first time since feb and then 3 days i move to the other side of england #like FUCK THATTTTT #theres smth here about guaranteed accommodation but like i havent been able to work much this year because of aforementioned horrors so #me when i try for 2024 and i send an application to this same ma program THREE YEARS IN A ROW #i wanna have as much time to save money and also like. heal #urghghghghhh im gonna need new references for my application next year tho #oh well. 2024 problem!#tbh do i even want to do my ma in writing like i want to do my ma so i can teach at uni level #i could just do some silly queer lit/cinema ma but that would mean going to a diff uni unless my undergrad changes their literature ma #i want the alumni discount. UGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHHHHH anyways

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rulesforthedance · 1 year

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I would say before a race I’m looking forward to the pain cave; like, that’s what I want, I wanna visit it, I wanna make it bigger, that’s the whole purpose, um, I’m looking forward to some new hallucinated friends, and then there’s always just that, like... wonder? Like, it’s not fearful of, but it’s kinda like, I dunno, the unknown of what the unexpected thing will be during that race and will I be able to problem solve it and deal with it well.

Courtney Dauwalter on Some Work, All Play Podcast

#like I know we've heard elite athletes share their masochist tells so many times it's hackneyed BUT #something about her curiosity--'I wanna visit it I wanna make it bigger' I want to FIND OUT what else can happen and how I'll deal with it #is opening up a possibility for me of another way of approaching the Thing I'm dealing with #which is a brain problem and not a running problem #but. something about this approach that robs the thing of its ability to terrify #or finds like. spaciousness and interest in the terror such that it is not paralytic #hm.#if I could be like. gently playfully curious about 'what's in the hole that's not my grave THIS time?'#'and in what novel way might I climb out of it?'#anyway easy to say when it's the good time of day but WE'LL SEE

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bo0zey · 1 year

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manic mixed depressive episode on my bday is so fun especially when ur going on 2 days no sleep n have a 12hr shift starting at the asscrack of dawn in 6hrs

#idk if i want to sleep like i do but i don’t i just keep walking in circles n staring off blankly #also bursted into tears for no reason bc i missed my mom and remembered how much i hate my fucking birthday #was in the middle of a borderline argument w my family then just zoned out n glanced at the time and tears welled #6:13???#then i pretended to go to the bathroom to hide my tears from my dad cuz he would’ve yelled at me if i went to my room w/o saying anything #so there i am crying like a pathetic loser on the toilet trying to suppress n swallow down ugly sobs #and there i am crying in my dumpster fire of a room on the floor #i literally go the entire year without crying abt her but every time december hits i always get into this weird funk #and idk why it’s still happening it’s been 7 years #i think my subconscious mind is influencing my body to release the trauma stored inside it bc i was never allowed to grieve her properly #so now in blips of time leading up to my birthday and the next day of her passing i’m 15 turning 16 again #i wish i didn’t have to work tomorrow so i could go visit her at her grave instead like i never go to the cemetery but i really want to #i guess i can go on her actual death day but i don’t want to go with my dad and brothers i just want to be alone #they don’t understand the feeling of losing your mom and best friend on your 16th bday #they don’t understand what it’s like carrying all this guilt and trauma and holding her hand and feeling her hand go limp at my words #i told her it was okay she could let go i would take care of my brothers and protect them from my father and i would be strong for everyone #meanwhile i’m listening to my dad n my aunt throwing all her clothes in trash bags upstairs #i didn’t even get to pick out what clothes i wanted to keep of hers im so angry my dad refused to let any of us miss her #“i miss mom-‘ ‘she’s dead get over it!’#i got over it alright but then this time of year rolls around and i’m under it all again #i miss her so much i wonder if she’d be proud of me i wonder what it would be like to feel her hand in mine again #ooos im crying again lol #im so pathetic i’m literally 23 in less than 30 minutes why am i behaving like a crybaby child #23:33 when i was typing that btw n 333 is my angel/life path number lol #i wanna saw my arm off but i won’t #i debated staring an iv on myself instead but i’m too drained i just want lay down n cry lol #pathetic loser crybaby girl can’t function can’t shut up making everyone uncomfortable with her sadnes n tears stupid stupid stupid #drown in them and die nobody here loves you anymore nobody cares you’re the problem always the problem #i can’t remember if my mom loved me or not everyone says she did but i forgot what it feels like #i wish i never told her it was okay to let go i lied to her i said i’d be okay but here i am manic depressive

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supergameboytwo · 2 years

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Tried to looking into visiting the last place I saw my friend before she passed away but it's a non-profit organization that runs the camp so like I don't even know if it's even remotely possible at this point I've been so hung up on this for the last year Idk what else to even consider except just letting it thoroughly destroy me every time I start thinking about it I hate being alive

#I could visit her grave? but I dont have any connection to her through that because she got buried 8 months before i even knew she was dead #I have absolutely no idea how to deal with this at all it completely destroys me on a weekly basis

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pollyna · 2 months

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Me&E, every couple of years: we're going to do a matching tattoo!

Always me&E: *talk about it for months and months, choosing the tattoo artist, the place we want it, and when we're going to do it!*

Always ma&E: *do actually nothing for no reason*

Rinse. Repeat.

#there isn't a specific reason we don't actually get them?? like before it was because we were minor we lived on the opposite side of the-#-country than it was because we didn't have enough money than she got a flatmate who was a tattoo artist and i spent those two years not-#-visiting because uni and the hours and then she made a comment about not being serious enough about us and we laughed for like three-#-hours straight because it was already eight years of friendship where the fuck does she believe i could go is a mystery to me #anyway last time i was there she introduced me as her platonic soulmate and y'know fuck people who says she can't commit or make her feel-#-less bc she decided not to have relationships for years. got a little out of context lol #hopeful before we hit the grave we are going to find what we want to get tattoed #rambling rambling rambling #personal~

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mr-snailman · 9 months

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must edit stupid essay that's currently 219 words longer than it should be but y'see the thing is I really just don't want to.... I mean why do I actually have to come up with words for this. can I not just. abstract poetry perhaps? words are visual representation of meaning... could I maybe represent the feeling of finding meaning in helping my lab partner not fail chem by such a large margin through a large swath of amber paint. could I do that. would admissions people accept that.

#where's that motivational pinup when you need it #btw just got back from my old hometown #and I used to miss it so much but it's not home anymore #everything seems so strange and different now #they have damned turning lanes instead of divided highways #and in some ways it's changed (children's museum a shadow of its former self) and in some ways I've changed (really not used to heat)#and through it all i have this damned essay to write #school isn't even in session!#multiple damned essays btw #but you could see the stars down there #i never see the stars anymore #and there's cornfields and horses and terrifying blind curves #and really bad cell service #and my grandfather's grave which i didn't visit this time #but i am glad not to be crashing on my grandma's couch tonight #gets very old very fast #she came up with us #which is gonna be... interesting #because i love her and she raised me but she forgets so much and she can be irritable and i know i have to be patient #and im trying #but it scares me

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postmortemnivis · 2 months

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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yawnderu · 2 months

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Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

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frankie-n-foughts · 1 year

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Chris and Eddie at the cemetery for Shannon. I knew that was coming but still, it definitely tugs at heart strings.

Chris wishing he could hear her talk back to them. I understand that but it’s still so sad watching it.

#I too am wondering about Eddie’s age now #but then again when have there ever been consistency in ages in the show lol #but also #I understand how Chris feels #I visited the grave of a family member for the first time in 12 years since her burial #cried like anything and put some stuff on her stone and wished I could hear her talk #911 fox #911 spoilers #msc #this is rambles basically

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absentlyabbie · 10 months

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i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:

living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.

i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.

unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.

there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.

we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)

and we watched them die.

we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.

it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.

too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.

one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.

i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.

and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.

and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.

all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.

they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.

it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.

it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.

the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.

but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.

keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.

they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.

and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.

if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,

keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.

edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.

#long post #cats #indoor cats #outdoor cats #keep your cats inside

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darkbluekies · 5 months

Text

Talking to the dead

Mafia!yandere x reader

Warnings: dead sibling, mentions of digging up the grave

He's furious that you've escaped. Infuriated that you managed to slip past the guards again. He wants to put a bullet through their chests. They've tracked you down to the cemetery, a weird place, Silas thinks.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sit by a tombstone, talking. There's no one around, who are you holding conversation with? He tells his men to stand by while he sneaks over.

"I'm in danger", you sob and chuckle slightly. "I've put myself in a dangerous situation, you know. I wish you were here. I could need a big sister/brother now. I need guidance. I don't know what to do, I'm so scared. Everything is terrifying." You sigh. "Well, now I've told you everything that has happened since you passed away. Quite the story, isn't it? Yeah ... I really miss you."

Silas sighs and scratches his neck, looking back at his guards, thinking. He knew that your sibling was dead, but he never imagined that he would find you like this.

"Y/N", he says carefully, wanting to catch you attention.

You gasp and hug the stone for dear life.

"Don't take him/her!" you scream in a heartbreaking tone.

Silas walks over to you, sinking down beside you. His heart breaks.

"I'm not going to take them", he reassures you. "Why don't you introduce me? Or have you already done that? I heard you told everything."

You still hug the stone tightly. Silas puts his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that he won't dig up the grave and steal your sibling. He brings you back and takes a look at the name on the stone before placing his hand on it. I'll protect them, he thinks and hopes that your big brother/sister will hear him, I will die for them.

Silas brings your shaking, sobbing body into his arms and kisses the top of your head. He won't punish you for this, his heart can't allow it.

While taking your defeated form to the car, he turns to his men and tells them to visit the grave every week to plant new flowers, water them, light candles, and clean the stone. And if they ever miss a week, he will kill them.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere angst #yandere drabble #yandere short stories

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