#not all this is bad! i'm growing! i'm healing! i'm moving on! i'm alive!
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i think into the new year i am going to have a more forgiving perspective toward myself regarding my mental health and what might come of it, because i think being more accepting of my behaviors and feelings has allowed me to more suitably take accountability for it (which i could go into a whole side spiel for) and also that i’m tired of torturing myself over things that have gone on my whole life. i love myself, love my body and my mind and my passions and my words, at least the majority of the time. and it’s a disservice for me to keep finding loopholes to hate myself considering that.
it’s hard to commit to anything for me, i’m pretty much the exhibit A of non committal tendencies especially regarding myself. but i’m not helpless in the face of that, and i want my new year’s resolution to be something along these lines:
i want to forgive myself. i want to have more good days than bad days. i want this year to be memorable. and i want to fall even more in love with people and this world, even if it disappoints me.
i don’t think any of that is inherently difficult. we all inherently want to grasp some kind of happiness. those with bad memories want better ones. we want to support ourselves and we want to love others. i think it’s more of a struggle of pushing through all the bullshit to get there, to put it simply (God knows 2023 is full of... anniversaries, and strange major changes, and everything), but i want to do that. i really do.
i want to, by the end of 2023, look back on my life and go. i like this. i like this life. i took something that was shitty at the start and made it beautiful. and that beauty is myself and the world and people i have kept close.
#nightmare.personal#i am thinking about this right now because#in the past few minutes my mood has been fluctuating. wildly. like very much#and it's uncomfortable! i don't like the feeling of going from euphoric to bitter#but i need to understand that there's no morality to my feelings#and that i'm okay. will be okay.#every rage episode is followed by a day so blindingly happy i can't even imagine it#it's hard it's hard and it's painful knowing this is the year#i go to college. my family leaves the house (and city) i have lived in my entire life. i leave high school.#this year has two five year anniversaries too which. are a lot to handle.#but i want to fall in love with the world and i know i will!#not all this is bad! i'm growing! i'm healing! i'm moving on! i'm alive!#i don't want to be a tragedy!#i want to move out! kiss a girl! wear lipstick! cry my eyes out! go to gatherings! celebrate my 18th birthday!#i want to feel the sunlight on my face and know that things are getting better#that's what i want from 2023. i don't want a perfect year#God knows my mental health has been very destructive recently#i KNOW my year won't be all sunshine and it'll actually be so so much darkness#but i want to be the sunshine. i want to walk through the dark and never stop#because i know. i know that i'm not the only sunshine out there#and i'm going to find that other light. and maybe we'll embrace each other.#and i'll hold her in my arms. not like an old friend. something far more personal#and i'll forgive her.#yeah. yeah i think that's good.
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the urge to throw trueform sukuna into the shoujo manga genre....
(fem!reader, sexual undertones towards the end)
it would be so funny yet so beautiful...i also think he would look so great in that flowery, feminine kind of artstyle <3-
in terms of cliche shoujo love interest, he's a lonely immortal god who is against everything that supports the notion of love... until he experiences what true love is like, for himself. you're his little servant toy that he mingles with for some time, until he realises something's wrong with his heart...
i love him for what he is, but wouldnt it also be lovely to see him in a softhearted story?? the almighty and powerful, but grows weak in the knees all because of one woman!
one day, imagine if he, the most renowned selfish man, with complete disregard for others, who had always valued himself vastly more than anyone else, comes to a point where he sees you in the way of an unstoppable attack from the wrath of an enemy, and rushes in to tank the would-have-been-fatal strike in your stead...
it happened in an instant. he didnt even realise he was moving until he had already been hit. he's bleeding for the first time in a thousand years. he's hit, and it should hurt, it should feel unpleasant, because he certainly wasnt planning to be hit, nor did he engage in this fight for his own pleasure, but for your protection.
yet, he feels relieved. you're tucked behind him safely, looking up at him with worried eyes, and he feels relieved, all because a weakling like you is alive.
after he sends you away to uraume (who gives you the stink eye), he promptly kills the opponent but becomes a little weakened temporarily afterwards as a result of the powerful attack
he's absolutely grumpy about having to be bedridden for a few days for recovery, often stares down at you with unreadable eyes, like he's in deep contemplation about his own feelings
oh fuck me, he thinks, when he finds himself wanting to comfort you as you're in tears over him, even though he's the one that's hurt.
its a confusing sensation, feeling like shit but also not hating everything about being in the centre of your concerns. look at you, feeling so guilty, so worried sick, fussing over him. as you should. he mulls over the incident where he uncharacteristically jumped in to protect you... but he's not one to over complicate things for too long. he'll just continue to do as he pleases, just like before. and if that involves showing you some affection, kissing you, holding your hand, shielding you from his woes... then so be it. if he's the strongest, if he's a god, shouldn't he also be able to save such a frail thing as you?
he orders for your presence in his bed to keep him entertained, but he doesn't even say a word when you're there laying next to him, he's only just staring at you and giving curt touches, like your body is a plaything to him. maybe palms your thighs and breasts, but it doesn't feel sexual at all.
"it's not so bad, having you in my debt," he suddenly says, as sukuna plays around with a lock of your hair. these new feelings he harbors, intrigues him just as much as they irritate him.
"i do owe you my life..." you tell him in response.
"so you're aware. and? what will you do about it?" he asks you.
"i'm not sure, my lord... what would you like me to do?"
"how sly of you, turning the question back onto me."
he thinks about it for a moment.
"well, i suppose there's nothing you could offer me but yourself," he says as he slowly undoes your robe, the other free hand grabbing your face.
"...and your everlasting devotion, to me."
as he's about to sit up to continue, your tiny hand pushes against his chest in resistance.
"you mustn't exert yourself, your wounds are still healing, my lord," you protest, much to his annoyance.
"cease your fretting. movement of this degree isn't enough to hurt me," sukuna sighs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets.
"i... i can do the moving," you tell him with determination, which earns you can amused smile.
"...oh? now that's certainly worth considering," he says, slowly letting go of you.
you carefully get up to straddle the larger man, sitting yourself down on his hips.
"alright then, my brave little devotee. entrance me."
and you do just that for him, all throughout the night. (it wasn't the first time, and it certainly wont be the last)
sukuna learns all about how some fragile things are worth keeping around.
at first, the relationship revolves solely around his own pleasure and satisfaction. but as the ice begins to melt, he sinks into a trap in which he's seeking more and more to keep your own happiness and your beautiful smile in place. he begins to hurt when you're hurting. it was exactly as he feared - his life becoming molded around one singular person who's somehow crawled their way into his heart-- his heart that should've been sealed tight.
at times, when his teasing goes too far, and your bright expressions dissolve into sorrow, his own mood drops considerably and there comes seeping in a crushing feeling in his chest.
he lifts your face up by the chin and says; "i'm only joking. don't make such a pitiful face."
but when he realises that you were merely feigning your hurt, giving him a little cheeky grin, he flies into a quick, but playful anger.
"you little minx. i've spoiled you a little too much haven't i? you're getting ahead of yourself."
he proceeds to lift you up into his arms, an extra hand keeping your wrists together, as he aims to litter his bite marks down your neck and shoulder.
"aah! forgive me, my lord!" you exclaim, writhing around in his tight grip.
but there's an audible giggle in your voice.
Masterlist
tagging; @vagabond-umlaut @yuujispinkhair @satkuna @skunaskitten @sukunastoy @theprettyarachnid @sunshine7queen @gojos-thot-patrol
#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna x you#jjk x reader#soft sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut
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Some TBI Swiss angst cuz that's the flavor of tonight. Going through a flare up and mentally/physically crashed halfway through the afternoon lesson block so now the Multi Ghoul gets to suffer.
Reader discretion advised. It's a doozy. Sorry, my dears. Mostly hurt/some comfort.
TW: angst, TBI, loss of verbal ability, chronic pain, brain fog, panic attacks
The weather changed last night. The Ministry has been preparing for a massive storm that is rolling in. Mountain has been working like a ox all week weather-proofing everything to minimize damage.
The temperature has dropped at least 20 degrees from the day before. Everything is quiet in the abbey as the sky grows darker and more ominous with the arrival of nature's fury.
Swiss wakes with a groan and peeks his eyes open. His room is dark, it's cold. He forgot to close his window last night, and there's a frigid breeze blowing through the curtains. Swiss shuts his eyes tightly and burrows under the blankets. His mind feels like it's slogging through knee-deep molasses, delayed and sluggish. His head feels like someone stuffed it full of cotton balls, the droning buzz of bees echoing in his ears, even though the room is dead silent.
His face is on fire. The left side of his jaw is alive and angry, like someone is sliding white-hot needles under his skin, deep into the bone. The stinging ache radiates from his jaw up his face, behind his ear and his eye. He sits up slowly, attempting to massage the tissue, wincing at the inflammation his fingers encounter in his effort at soothing the hurt.
Suddenly, a zap from deep within the back of his brain sends lightning through his senses, whiting out his sight and short circuiting his entire psyche. He clutches his head with a groan as the whole world freezes for a few moments.
Didn't sit up slow enough apparently.
Swiss' hearing and sight slowly returns from the sensory white-out and his stomach drops, distress corrupting his normally velvet scent of dark chocolate and sandlewood.
It's been a year....a year since Swiss had suffered a flare this bad. He was so sure that things were finally nearing normal.
"Oh look...I'm back."
Panic rises up in Swiss' chest and throat as what's still awake and moving in his awareness picks up on that....thing. That place. The jagged hole in his mind that he had worked so hard with Rain and Omega to find and seal away. That Entity in his mind with the dangerous glowing eyes that told Swiss those horrible, awful things that had sent him to the bottomless pit devoid of hope of ever being normal again.
"See? I'm still here and you're still broken."
"You're not strong enough to beat me."
"Weak....you're WEAK."
"Just a useless. Multi. FREAK."
Swiss whines high in his throat and curls up in a ball, his tail winding so tightly around Rain's shark plushie that a seam pops, the sharp sound sending shattered glass through his auditory processing centers.
His breath catches in his throat and he chokes as an icy hand closes around his heart, crushing it tight with intent to maim, to destroy. He screws his eyes shut and whimpers as the facial pain lashes out again at the tension, cutting deep weeping lines in his soul; a brand on his heart that tells everyone he will always be defective, broken. His eyes fly back open, pupils blowing wide with distress and fear as he gasps for breath, trying to return to some sense of stasis.
Maybe if he just closes his eyes and gives in...maybe the Entity will get bored and move on...find different prey to torment and torture. Swiss curls tighter into a ball, covering his eyes, breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.
....
Cool hands on either side of his face pull him from the depths, bringing him to the surface gasping and scrambling as his eyes fly open and meet eyes of piercing blue. Swiss knows those eyes, his brain struggles to comprehend where he is, what he is seeing. Those eyes and those cool, healing hands have been his salvation everytime the Entity tries to take him away. Swiss grabs on to them like a lifeline.
"Breathe babe, I'm here. I've got you."
Rain runs his thumbs over Swiss' cheeks, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. Swiss breathes out in relief as tears run down his cheeks, the coolness from Rain's touch fighting back the angry heat in his face, Rain's water elemental magic washing gently through his soul with just a whisper of quintessence; chasing the Entity away.
"It can't hurt you. I'm not going to let it, Dearheart."
Rain gathers Swiss up into his chest, rubbing circles with his fingertips into the base of Swiss' skull, laying soft kisses at the base of his horns.
"Rrrr--I--ahh"
Swiss whimpers at the realization that this flare is bad enough that it's taken his words. The connection between his brain and his mouth is muddled, unclear. Shame burns hot through his face to the tips of his ears as he buries it in Rain's neck, whining quietly as the tears make their return.
"Hey...words are hard right now? That's okay, Spark, you don't need to say anything."
"Mounty's gonna be here any second with the poultice for your face. You just stay right here with me, okay? I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Rain tightens his arms around his mate, twining their tails together as he slowly rocks them back and forth. He murmurs into Swiss' curls, whispering how much he loves his multi ghoul. How brave he is for fighting this fight again.
Mountain enters softly into the room and hands Rain the poultice of turmeric, ginger, and other anti-inflammatory herbs. He curls his giant frame around the water and multi ghoul and holds them tight, pumping out scents of lavender, eucalyptus, and sage. A protector ready to fight any Entity that may come with intent to harm.
Swiss nestles into the protective arms of his mates. Mountain's aromatherapy scents are slowly clearing away the fog in his brain, the poultice drawing away the angry heat pounding in his face. The deep rumbling purrs from the water and earth ghoul grounding and securing him.
Swiss tries to reach out through the bond once his mind is clear enough to do so. Physical words are still too hard.
"I...love you guys..."
"Oh dearheart, we love you so much."
Outside, the storm rails and rages, screaming its fury against the ancient stone walls.
But It's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay.
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King Under Your Control-An Azris Playlist
It's the final entry to the ACOTAR Playlist Project? Can you believe?!
I wanted to finish with a bang. Azris, the crackship to end them all. I'm also of the opinion that Azris has some of the best writers in this fandom, and this playlist is for them. This tracklist was inspired by all of the art and fics I've been blown away by. @iftheshoef1tz, @ofduskanddreams, @secret-third-thing, and @krem-does-stuff specifically. But there are too many to name.
LISTEN HERE and take a look at the tracklist behind the cut!
King-Years & Years
I was a king under your control
And, oh, oh, oh
I wanna feel like you've let me go, so let me go
Don't you remember how I used to like
Being on the line?
I dreamed you dreamed of me calling out my name
Is it worth the price?
Zephyrus-Bloc Party
And all you said in your quietest voice
Was "I needed you as much as they do"
And all you said in your quietest voice
Was "I needed you as much as they do"
How fast must we run before we can just take off in flight?
How far must we run before they do not recognise us?
So let's take this from the start, you'll be me and I'll be you
Casanova-Allie X & VERITE
I'm here lying on the bed of your tongue
My heart listens to the sound of your war drum
Steady tiptoeing to your neck of the woods
I feel danger on your lips but it tastes good
Sex and Violence-Scissor Sisters
Everytime I spend myself it never runs too low
Woah, woah, woah
I can't escape my need for
Sex and violence
Never let you see them hand in hand
One is with the other
The softest touches deeper than the ocean
Give it to me faster, feel it, feel it
NEW MAGIC WAND-Tyler the Creator
Ayo, take one look in the mirror, implications so clear
I live life with no fear, except for the idea
That one day you won't be here
I will not fetch the ball
Eyes are green, I eat my vegetables
Ties-Years & Years
And you're a dancer, well, I'm a spy
It's so beautiful to see you lie
Are you having fun?
Then give it up, you don't need that stress
You're still hungry for another test
Are you having fun?
Under the Sheets-Ellie Goulding
We're under the sheets and you're killin' me
In our house made of paper, your words all over me
We're under the sheets and you're killin' me
Like all the boys before
Bad Habit-Foals
'Cause if I go
Where the flowers grow
Into the deep below
Oh, would you forget me now?
And if I could
Make the days okay
Wash the stains away
Oh, would you forget me now?
Pink + White
That's the way every day goes
Every time we've no control
If the sky is pink and white
If the ground is black and yellow
It's the same way you showed me
Nod my head, don't close my eyes
Halfway on a slow move
It's the same way you showed me
If you could fly, then you'd feel south
Up north's getting cold soon
The way it is, we're on land
Still, I'm someone to hold true
Keep you cool when it's still alive
Won't let you down when it's all ruin
Sweet Dreams-Angel Olsen
Every time I take a breath
Something once living inside me has left
Yes, it's alive but it's just passed through
It's just left me and it's just left you
On your own
Only He Can Heal Me-Bloc Party
When the trappings of the body
Lead me to that hopeless place
And I feel my spirit crumble
Under strain and under guilt
Lay me down in rivers cleansing
Where the tall grass grows and grows
And let me wait until
My saviour comes home
In My Room-Frank Ocean
Got this lust for life in me, yeah
Horny for the game, uh
First they kiss, then they bite soft, uh
Then that bitch wanna play it off, huh
Fuck it, I'm pretty still in a pit of snakes
While serpents shake some brand new scales
I need a new face, I'm tired of these weirdos
Wolf Like Me-TV on the Radio
Dream me, oh, dreamer, down to the floor
Open my hands and let them weave onto yours
Feel me, completer, down to my core
Open my heart and let it bleed onto yours
Feeding on fever, down on all fours
Show you what all the howling is for
Genghis Khan-Miike Snow
I know there's no form
And no labels to put on
To this thing we keep
And dip into when we need
And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night
But the waves hit my head
To think someone's in your bed
Magnets-Disclosure
Dancing past the point of no return
Let go, we can free ourselves of all we've learned
I love this secret language that we're speakin'
Say it to me, let's embrace the point of no return
I’m Done with the World (& It’s Done with Me)-Foals
The fox is dead in the garden
The hedges are on fire in the country lanes
And all I want to do is get out of the rain
An autumn day, an autumn day
My daughter's asleep in the garden
The leaves are on fire in the country lanes
And all I want to do is get out of the rain
On an autumn day, on an autumn day
I’m done with the world and it’s done with me
All I wanna do is get up and leave
Sun falls into the garden
I’m on my knees
TAGLIST: @iftheshoef1tz @ofduskanddreams @krem-does-stuff @secret-third-thing @queercontrarian @born-to-riot @yanny-77 @acourtofladydeath @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @chunkypossum @thelovelymadone @velidewrites @octobers-veryown @asnowfern
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i guess i'm a touch late but,
2023 was a truly amazing year for me. i feel so blessed to be healthy and alive and experiencing the beauty in the world in spite of all the setbacks i've had over the years.
i was able to travel to canada and see the breathtaking rocky mountains three times this year. my wife was able to visit with me as well, and two of my best friends from out of state traveled down to visit me/us over the summer. our immigration decision will be handed down very soon, and we will finally be able to close this difficult chapter of our lives for good.
my brother and sister-in-law blessed our family with another child over the summer and he is precious in every way. my niece continues to be a joy to watch grow and engage with the world. i got a better job, with much higher pay, a wonderful team of coworkers, and a very generous work-life balance. i picked up running again this year, feeling finally healthy enough to move my body in ways i hadn't been able to in an entire decade, and even started racing again. i'm running a marathon in april with some friends. i go to the gym at work every weekday. i have been hiking and snowboarding. i've taken up learning the irish language, i've re-committed to learning how to draw, and i've been making and maintaining healthy habits slowly over the year. i have friends i see regularly and most days i forget my computer even exists, which is surreal to me as someone who used to be extremely dependent on, probably addicted to, social media and video games as escapism.
my mental health is practically perfect, not even a whisper of depression or anxiety, thanks entirely to my diet, which has in turn allowed an upward spiral of productivity and genuine living that has driven me past merely not being ill, into the territory of being near-constantly joyful and deeply at peace with myself.
i got a tattoo which has become a source of confidence and assurance, a small but bold reminder that i am strong enough to be true to myself and live my life honestly and for the benefit of my family and community. i have brought healing to many people this year and my hope is that the effects continue to ripple outwards into the world over and over.
nearly nothing bad happened to me or my loved ones in 2023. it was easily the best year of my life and i genuinely believe 2024 will be even better. normally i'd cry out not to jinx it, but i believe it will be better because i am better, and i will continue to shape better and better versions of myself. i hope this year will be good for everyone else, too.
#the hawk speaks#not a new years resolution just a fond recollection of the past year#i actually do not have any new years resolutions this year except to stay the course. for the most part my life is well put together#of course there is always room for self improvement but i actually feel completely secure and content with the direction i'm going
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Alright I said I was gonna make a sappy post for my 30th birthday so here it goes!:
I never thought I would live to see 30. I know that many people say that, and I'm sure that sentiment isn't unique on here. Here's the thing; I'm disabled. I have almost died due to my health 3 times since 2011 and indeed did once before being brought back. My immune system is nonexistent, and my chronic pain has me at currently 6 reconstructive back surgeries and round the clock pain medication.
When I was 17 years old, I became a victim of medical malpractice and had my entire life changed in an instant. Didn't get to go off to college, didn't get to work normally, didn't get to move out - didn't, didn't, didn't. For years, I was told that I would heal. That I would be fine. I was young! Young people don't get sick. I'll bounce back. Just be patient. But I didn't get better, I got worse. And every year older was another year into my 20s where I wasn't able to do "the normal stuff." I never finished college, but I did get some classes done. I would work for a few months before needing to quit. I got married and then divorced. All "failures" due to my health.
At 27, I went to see my therapist and sat down and told her that I couldn't see into my future. I remember telling her, "Every day is hell. I can't do this for another 10 years. I've barely made it through this last 10. I don't even know if I can do it for another 3." I was at the end of my rope, convinced that I wouldn't make it. My back was crumbling underneath me again, and insurance was fighting me tooth and nail to be approved for another surgery. I was bedridden. I was on the highest medication load I've taken, and it wasn't even touching my pain. I wasn't connected to anything - not my art, not friends, not the world around me. I was looking very seriously at my options of what I thought was either suffering or dying.
So, she suggested a mindfulness program. It was a 6-week course at UCSD (University of California San Diego) that taught you how to. essentially, live in the moment. At first, I thought it was honestly the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I'll admit that I was sour on it, but I said I would try it and I paid for the class so I did it. I sat through the meditations, wrote on the topics they gave, went through the exercises they instructed, and did the full day retreat. And at the end of those 6 weeks, I was alive again. I learned to savor every bite of my food. I learned how to pay attention to the sun on my skin. I learned to enjoy how it felt to have my air move in and out of my lungs. I learned how to look in the mirror and love what I saw and dress myself in what made me happy (this is when I started with the disco clothes). The warm feel of skin, the taste of my favorite soda, the beautiful way my cat purrs, the glorious smell of rain, the lovely way dust looks illuminated by the sun - I learned how to Live.
My life is still hard. My pain has not improved. I did get that surgery, so now my back is thankfully more stable than it's ever been. I know that I probably won't live a very long time compared to most, but none of that makes me sad anymore, not really. I have my bad days, and I have my good days, and no matter what, I live in the moment. I feel my emotions and let them have their space within me before letting them flow. And after over a decade of not touching my art because I felt like it was robbed from me, I paint now. I paint for myself, and I paint for others, and by God, I enjoy every second of it. I feed the little barn cats out in the back of where I live now, and I love them. I enjoy the sound of the wind through the oak trees, and I listen to my music, and I take pictures of the bugs. I watch the clouds race by when it's about to storm, and I talk to the flowers that grow outside my fence. I love my bed for holding me on my bad days and love that I have pretty artwork from friends hanging on my walls to comfort me when I can't leave my room. I dress up in my fun disco stuff whenever I can, and on the days I can't, I enjoy my soft, comfy pj's. I talk to my friends online every day and apologize for the days I can't when my pain makes it too hard to think. I play fun video games and watch good movies and enjoy fun podcasts. I Live.
Today, I am 30 years old. I have lived through what should have killed me many times over. And I am so, so happy I am here. And for however long I have, I will continue to live in the moment, enjoying the days and moments I can and allowing the bad to simply be bad. I plan for tomorrow because that is all I can plan for.
I live, and that is enough.
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I'm back on my asking bullshit, and I bring the pain!
So, I know I've talked about physical healing before, specifically to do mostly with Mihawk, but let's talk about Shanks! The way you describe his scars indicates first, second and third-degree burns covering the whole of his upper body. The ow factor aside, the fact that he didn't pass out from the pain is both horrifying in its implications for his pain tolerance and horrifying because if he didn't pass out, there's a good chance he cooked his nerves dead. This is bad for recovery because, on one hand, burn victims have been known to die from the immense stress and pain full-body burns produce. Not feeling the pain could keep him alive, but once the adrenaline wears off, Shanks is going to be in agony for a very long time that only pain meds can help with, and even that's iffy on them helping all the way. Oh the other hand if he crisped his nerves that means long healing more damages and a lot more affect on his over all ability to move from stretching to reaction time.
Then there's the healing. You are a well-informed individual, but for those who aren't informed, every burn victim I've looked up has said they'd rather burn a hundred times before having to go through the healing process of burns again. In fact, at some point, they wished they'd died instead of going through it again. They'll have to change Shanks' bandages every day from his face to down his torso, and every day it will feel like being skinned alive as the nerves come back on. Not to mention the removal of necrotic skin—debridement over a period of time as the nerves and new skin grow back. Oh, and skin grafts, so many skin grafts. So, a lot of surgery.
His life for a year or two is going to go from psychological torture straight into the physical torture of healing. No wonder he develops an addiction to drugs and alcohol. His life is pain, his mind is a death trap, and he's losing the love of his life inch by torturous inch.
PT is going to be hell for both of them. Shanks will probably have to wear compression garments/bandages all over his face and body while he heals all the time, which will fuck with him movement-wise. Hopefully, the One Piece magic healing will reduce that from two years to about one instead.
Yeah healing from burns is no Joke and if Shanks wasn’t already riddled with trauma this would be more to add to the pile.
!!!!! Yessssss. Pain is my thing.
This is a great topic, because those those are Mihawk's haki burns, which are very, very interesting, because, key word, Haki.
If haki burns possess the physical characteristics of thermal burns, then Shanks is indeed going to be in agony for a very long time. Everything you mentioned Shanks would suffer and require for his healing, the daily changes of bandaging across a large portions of his body, necrotic skin removal, grafts/surgery. (Burns are not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, recovery from them even less so. Pain meds only take a chunk off that utter hell.) And irregardless of physical characteristics, the pain of receiving those burns would amount to the pain of third-degree burns either way. Even with how high his pain tolerance is at the time (due to all the previous torture) he wouldn't keep consciousness for long after being initially burnt. Nerves are indeed cooked, literally cooked (or switched off by the brain due to the psychosomatic-inducing shock of the haki)
Which brings us to how haki burns could differ from thermal burns, simplified, haki is the manifestation of the will of the user, and Mihawk was exerting so much will to protect Shanks that a shadow of the "shield" he was creating imprinted on Shanks' body. The question is whether or not armament haki possesses kinetic energy when in use, and if the force from the impact of it with Shanks generated enough thermal energy to burn nearly a third of his body. On one hand, it's realistically possible, given that armament haki can be physically seen when used for Hardening, on the other hand, and taking into account that haki is a metaphysical thing, the burns inflicted in that case could also be more metaphysical, and so fully psychological/neurological. Nerve receptors and brain synapses would be fucked, pulses wouldn't be transmitted right, the parietal lobes are completely rattled loose do to the infliction of external willpower.
Shanks would suffer the pain (or what his brain is telling him is pain, it's trying to categorize the effect haki caused to it and the closest thing it has is pain) of physical burns on the parts of his body touched by the haki, and the further pain of nerves on-lining as his brain slowly-unfucks itself. So while there may be no actual physical burns save for pesudo-tattoos of the Hardening effect, it will feel like there are, which does a number psychologically on a different level. Feeling pain you can neither see nor find no evidence of.
Either way, yeah it's no mystery why Shanks turns to alcohol to deal with this. And compounding Mihawk's conditions and distance during all of this, Mihawk is the one responsible for Shanks' burns, whatever version he may have. Mihawk was the one who caused Shanks the pain he has to live with for years, and this is not lost on him. Neither is the utter guilt he would feel because of it.
Healing will be hell indeed, either Shanks is getting his skin scraped off or buried in his treatments bandages, or is trying to scrape his own skin off to try to exorcise the perpetual sensation of being burnt. Not a fun thing to deal with in the midst of everything else he currently will be shouldering.
#one piece#op#opla#dracule mihawk#akagami no shanks#hawkeye mihawk#red haired shanks#mihawk one piece#shanks one piece#mishanks#mihawk x shanks#op marines#loguetown au
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How to survive a toxic desi household
Tips to save or move out of vicious cycles of household trauma
Opinions as a 19 yr old 😵💫 only apply what you like and also ask me anything through the ask box I'll help as much as i can muah <33
A small disclaimer that this post doesn't imply all desi households are toxic , it's just my late realisations and new discernments , and opinions basically an opinion shit post which might might i guess help
Lets get into it :
Healing your parents is not your job :
Firstly I've seen this mostly with people who are the first child of the family but i think we equally suffer. So the catch is no if your parents are fighting you mustn't get into it , it briefly sterns from the need to move away because they are bored of each other you don't need to find ways to bring them together , by that i don't mean you will have to completely ignore the fact , by that i mean some tries are enough, alright honey !!! It's enough you talked to them , tried something small it's alright, i don't want you to waste your youth crying because your focus is helping your elders grow up , truth is that's not your responsibility i know it hurts so so bad and it's so distracting but let's get to the truth they won't listen they won't even try so what's the use my love , when you can have your youth don't choose healing others , if they want they will do it themselves , or you can talk to someone who can help you , by that i don't mean tell it to your bitchy chachi but a sweet bua who is understanding may help at times , it's upto you mostly but what i emphasize is you need to focus on yourself!!!!!
Everyone can't be an academic overachiever
Imagine crying in the night to why you can't score full in mathematics but knowing that average is enough!!!!! That your real potential lies in dancing or singing or sports so why ??? What's the point??? You know let me tell you a secret once you become a disappointment they never expect from you , you're getting average grades they say you're a fool , but remember that you and only you know that the gold medal you got in running keeps you alive .
It's so so hard to escape this pit or government jobs and high end jobs being seen as the only mode of being successful, success comes with satisfaction, i know it's hard now that daily fights are a thing because you don't wanna be what they want you to be , but remember only one can know their true potential like you do , somehow just somehow convince them that you don't belong in the myth of high end jobs providing the daily bread, it's alright your passions can be what you choose to work and live for.
"Don't beat yourself up for avg grades , by that i don't f*****g mean don't study c'mon that's fool behaviour do but in balance, balance gives one everything , study study study but with discernments and how much that is needed". I'm sure courses are available for dancers so go for that study that knowledge is always always a weapon , show me get the bag !!!!!
Toxic relatives
You know when you don't give something attention it literally seizes to exist exactly imao they don't deserve any of you , miss functions pretend your sick you don't need someone telling you your skin is too dark or you're a bitch coz you got a tattoo .
I know i know yaar it's your fav bua's shaadi and you have to go but these people seem to scare you off no no don't let that win , avoid them , pretend your dumb that you can't even understand what the day , they say you're a slut coz you wore a dress that shows too much off , pretend you heard you're a star be delusional, talk back, but i mean if your parents are gonna beat you up later don't talk back 💀 like the best is to avoid avoid be delusional were in the matrix anyway who cares?? They will forget you and so should you !!!
Comparison
If your parents compare you to your weird cousins coz they're so much better hear them leave forget who cares you only know yourself it's your life , it's never easy to forget all that i know i understand par dekho yaar tum bhi kuch Aisa Karo ki unke maa baap unhe tana mare . It goes down in every household, chinki gets compared to rinki and rinki gets compared to chinki my god as if this is a custom, ignorance is bliss, you do better things get better , being better then them can save you and earn you praises crying over the comparison won't .
Siblings
Protecting your sibling is your job yes yes , you know you can be their support all the time , they do something mischievous, talk to them and if they don't understand after that only talk to your parents , when you can handle something with so much love and knowledge and how you can teach them coz you're a new generation toh you know better alright. You can always try to be on their side.
Elder children have raging traumas please don't let the younger ones suffer because of it , whenever you feel angry remind yourself that where the anger comes from , talkin' and communication is the answer to most of the problems you can talk it out, other options always exist later .
But one thing you mustn't do is deal with someone who , beats you up , puts you into problem , teach them lessons I'm in no favour of dis graceful people , if you are a little revengeful you can take some steps to teach them how it hurts or else make sure you stay away from them , it hurts and hurts but protect yourself first and then do anything later .
Abhi ke liye itna hi pt 2 , agar kuch yaad aya toh 🥴✌️
Take care lovelies 😺❤️i love you soooooo much!!!!!!!!
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Alive, Just to Watch the Bruises Heal - Chapter 2
Whumpuary, Day 12 - Prompt: Old Injuries
Shepard wants her old scars back, and there's only one person she trusts to do it
Okay, this one is probably the nastiest my whump stories are going to get. Be warned: blood, injury, trauma, and some very bad coping mechanisms.
AO3 Here
Shepard rolled over and looked at Thane. His eyes were closed and his breathing measured, but she didn't think he was asleep. She hadn't taken the anti-hallucinogens Mordin had provided to counteract the toxins in Thane's saliva and sweat, and though the first rush of chemical stimulation had come and gone while they had sex, Shepard was still pleasantly high. Logically, she knew Thane was immune to his own effects, but she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to live like this all the time. It was the first time in months she hadn't been in pain.
Shepard's eyes trailed along the shape of Thane's profile: the gentle slope of his brow to the dip of his eyes, his flat reptilian nose and full, smooth lips. By the time her gaze came to rest on his chin, he was looking at her too.
"What are you looking at, Siha?" he asked.
"The most beautiful man I've ever seen," Shepard replied. She hadn't told him that he was the first man she had bedded since her awkward academy years, or that he was the first person to see her naked since Cerberus had pressed her resisting body into service. She had a feeling he knew anyway.
Thane smiled, and reached over to cup her face in his hand. She let her eyes closed and pressed against him so she could feel the strange membrane that joined his middle fingers against her ear. It would be so easy to fall asleep, comfortable and pain-free, but she pushed the temptation away. There was something she had been wanting to take care of and now, with the suicide mission looming, she didn't want to put it off anymore. She leaned forwards and pressed a soft kiss to Thane's forehead, and then got out of bed.
"Shepard?" he asked, sitting up to watch her in confusion as she pulled on a sports bra and underwear. Now that Miranda owed her for saving her sister, she had convinced her to disable the monitoring devices in her bedroom.
"I need to ask something of you," she said without looking at him. She pulled open the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and dipped her hand inside.
"Anything," Thane said. When Shepard stood again, he had slipped out of bed and into his own underwear. She hadn't even heard him move.
"It's still creepy how quiet you can be," she said, and Thane dipped his head in a bashful apology. "And… maybe don't be too quick to agree. You haven't heard what I want yet."
"What do you have behind your back?" Thane asked, gently resting his hand on her arm. He didn't want her to notice, but she could tell he was growing suspicious. She swallowed and took her hands from behind her back to show him the knife.
It was a honed turian blade, used for skinning in traditional wild animal hunts, and Shepard had sharpened it until it rivaled Chakwas' surgical tools. Carefully, Thane took it from her and felt the weight, turning it over in his lightly scaled hands and running a finger along the flat of the blade.
"This is an impressive blade," Thane said. "What is it you want from me, Siha?"
Shepard had to turn away from him before she could answer. She watched the way the cool blue light from the fish tank swirled on the floor grating instead and swallowed the lump of fear swelling in her throat before she said anything. "Before Cerberus got their hands on me, before I… died - " she stopped suddenly, but Thane laid a hand on her shoulder to prompt her to continue. "Before I died, I had scars. Different scars. Scars that Cerberus erased." She turned back to him and looked him in the eyes. "I want them back."
Thane looked from her down to the knife in his hand and then back again.
"Siha, I - "
"I know what you're going to say," Shepard said. "But I'm not me without them. These are marks I got on Elysium, Therum, Ilos, the Citadel. I could have had them removed - hell, Udina offered to pay for the surgery when I got famous so my headshots wouldn't look so off-putting." She took a step towards him and clasped her hand around his wrist. "They're a reminder of everything I've lost. Everything I've fought for. Everything I still fight for."
She stopped and looked at him, pleading, but he shook his head. "You're not lucid, Shepard. My toxins are still in your bloodstream, affecting your judgement."
"I'm not asking this on a whim, Thane," Shepard said softly. "I've been planning this since before we first met."
"Then why ask me?"
Shepard sighed and let go of his wrist. "Mordin could do it. He probably wouldn't even ask questions. Doctor Chakwas, if I could put up with the psych eval she'd put me through. Or Miranda, she gave me all these new scars." She paused to look at him again, hoping he'd see the truth of it in her blown-out pupils. "But I trust you more than any of them. You're the only one I want to trust my body to. My past. And I know you have the precision and skill to do it. I want it to be you."
Thane was silent for a long time, and Shepard had to bite her lip to resist the urge to beg. He turned the knife in his hands while he considered it - considered her - his eyes on the fine edge of the blue-black blade. Was it sharp enough to slice her skin neatly? Could he wield a blade against a woman he loved? Could he stand to make her bleed?
Finally, he held the knife still. "Where?" he said.
"Thank you, Thane," Shepard breathed.
She called up her omni-tool and flicked through the images she had prepared. A lot of them came from official Alliance media just after The Battle of the Citadel, but she'd had to use pictures she'd taken herself for the marks her uniform covered. A lot of them had Liara in them originally.
"Here," she said, enlarging a picture of her leg and rotating it in the air so Thane could see. A pale scar cut along her calf, just below her knee. "This one first."
He knelt and lifted her leg into his lap. The way he touched her now, examining her skin to find the exact angle for the knife, reminded her of how he had treated her in bed: there was that same methodical, conditioned fluidity to his movements that made her feel so safe. He pressed a kiss to her knee and she closed her eyes briefly. While she was distracted, he slashed the knife quickly across her flesh and she gasped in shock.
A glancing slice from the beam of a geth ghost energy weapon, that would have destroyed her knee if aimed just a little better.
"I am sorry," Thane said, but Shepard shook her head and lifted her leg out of his grip, tilting it to look at the new wound. Other than the fresh blood trailing down her calf, it looked exactly the way it used to. Exactly the way it should.
"It's perfect," she said. Maybe it was the drell toxins clouding her mind, but other than a dull ache she didn't even feel it. Thane didn't return her smile, but he did nod in understanding. His past was dark and painful too, and Shepard knew if anyone would understand the need to bear a constant reminder of suffering, it would be Thane. She pulled up the next image.
A new Cerberus scar ran from Shepard's sternum to her belly button, where something had been put inside her and sewn up again, but before there had been a long scar that crossed from under ribs to the centre of her stomach. Thane turned the knife into a reverse grip, kissed Shepard lightly where the cotton of her underwear met her skin, and then quickly stood and made his cut.
A knife fight behind a bar, where a batarian slaver had tried to grab a teenage boy.
The cut hurt more, but Shepard didn't care. She ignored the blood too, this time. The first time she had got that wound it had been deep, and the blood was all she could think about. If the batarian hadn't assumed he'd killed her and run off, she was sure she wouldn't have survived. It was good to have the reminder back where it belonged.
"Another," Shepard said. She had thought she was checking Thane could keep going, but it came out like a demand.
She was about to try again when Thane took her hand and used it to flip to the next image - a high-resolution shot of her face, from her brief time as the Alliance poster girl.
"These are the last three," she said, and left the question implied.
"I understand," Thane said, examining the short scar that traced its way from the side of her neck to her collar bone.
"It stops just here," Shepard said, touching a finger to her own skin and leaving a fingerprint of blood to mark the spot. "I couldn't - " before she could explain that all the topless pictures she still had featured distinctive blue hands on her skin, Thane had slashed her with the knife.
A shot from a rifle that had pierced her hardsuit. If not for the automatic medigel sealing her skin, she would have bled out in minutes. Liara had been there to see it.
Blood seeped into the cotton of her bra and Shepard nodded.
"This one is important," she said. She was starting to feel a tingle in her fingertips, but she knew the Cerberus implants would keep her from losing too much blood.
Thane ran the tip of the knife over the image first, tracing the long cut that traveled down from above her left eye, across her face, over her lips, and down to her chin on the opposite side.
"Siha," Thane whispered.
"I survived it the first time, and it was much worse than it looks," Shepard said. She wasn't prepared for this to end yet, not when she was so close to being complete again.
"It will hurt."
"I know."
"Close your eyes."
Shepard did as she was told, and though she knew the next thing she was going to feel would send her back to that frozen street on Elysium all those years ago, Thane made her feel too safe to care. Instead of the knife, though, he gave her his lips first, pressing them to hers with an urgency he hadn't show her before. She kissed him back, feeling the prickle of the toxin in his saliva spark against her lips. Just as she was wondering if it was intentional - if he was dosing her to keep the pain at bay - the knife interrupted her train of thought.
A spear from kishock harpoon gun, fired from the top of the building next to her, had narrowly missed her head. Instead, it had slashed across her face and turned her skin and muscle to hot pulp. Occasionally she still dreamed about screaming.
Shepard nearly fell to her knees as the sharp pain lanced through her. Unlike the original injury, Thane had deliberately missed her eye, and it was her split-open lips that hurt her the most. Her mouth filled with blood and the iron tang made her feel sick.
"Medi-gel," she managed to burble through the mess, and spat it out as Thane quickly passed the minifacturer of his own omni-tool over her lips, stemming the bleeding in a few seconds.
"We should stop," Thane said.
"I'm fine," Shepard insisted, a little thickly through her numb lips. "You said it would hurt, and it did."
Thane had to understand that it was what she needed. None of the pain came close to the agony of the first few weeks of implant adjustment, and she had waged war across the Traverse without anybody even suspecting anything was wrong. The scars Thane was recreating for her had almost ended her on the days she got them, but in the days since they reminded her she was alive. The cuts hurt now, but every single one made her feel lighter. Better. She couldn't explain it to him, but the last one was the smallest of the lot and stopping now would leave her feeling as incomplete as if Cerberus had left off one of her limbs.
Thane sighed and switched the knife to his other hand. "Last one," he said.
"Last one."
This time he didn't try and make it a surprise - the cut was completely straight, which was maybe unsurprising given who gave it to her, and it meant that Thane needed to steady the blade with his other hand, pressing his palm over the back of the knife to keep it in place. Again, Shepard felt the comforting presence of his webbed middle fingers against her ear, and she smiled at him. Finally, he smiled back. Instead of letting him make the cut, Shepard took a sudden step forwards, and felt the knife dig in and slice through.
Saren's mutated corpse had slashed for her head and she had taken a step back just in time. His longest talon raked across her right cheek in a perfectly uniform arc.
Thane dropped the knife and wrapped his arms around her, welcoming her lips on his despite the blood that smeared onto his skin. It was over. She was back.
"Thank you, Thane," she whispered into his skin, "I know that was hard."
"Anything for you, Siha," he whispered back. They kissed again, but Thane pulled away after far too short a time. "Medigel," he said, and his tone told Shepard that he was not to be argued with. She nodded, and let him take care of her.
The slow application of gel let Thane run his fingers over his handiwork, and Shepard couldn't help but see it as symbolic. He had made her whole again, and now he was healing her old injuries. Making her better. By the end, she was tingling from the drell toxins that had got into her blood when they kissed and she felt warm and delicate from the gentle heat of the medigel. Above all, she felt loved. Thane insisted on taking her to the shower so he could wash of the blood, but she stopped at the fishtank to look at her reflection in the glass.
She looked like she had crawled out of hell, and in a way she had. Blood streaked down her face where the new scars were still a vicious red. It got in her hair and stained her underwear. When she opened her mouth, she could see the stains of red on her teeth. She wondered if this was how she'd looked on Elysium, when they found her broken body.
It felt good to be herself again.
#whumpuary2024#fanfic#writing#mass effect#commander shepard#thane krios#liara t'soni#old injuries#cw: blood#whumpuaryno6
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You can find my ao3 here at: Lydiamxrtin
🌻 Multi-chapter Fics 🌻
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summary: After seeing that TK is overwhelmed with work and his dad's illness Judd decided to take him horse riding, much to the dismay of TK.
It's okay not to know. 1.6 • 1 Chapter • TK Strand Week 2020 • Day 4 Prompt: “I’m proud of you.” + future
Summary: TK shares an important milestone in his life with Carlos and looks towards their future
🌻 AU 🌻
All along there was some invisible string tying you to me. 7.9k • 1 Chapter • AU Meeting while waiting for hours on end in the emergency room
Summary: TK just wanted his dad to be okay; strike that, he needed his dad to be okay. He also needed to know more about the man that had managed to pull him back from the edge of a complete breakdown. For now, his name would be enough, and that TK knew; Carlos Reyes. With nothing to do but spiral, TK meets someone that makes moving to Austin seem more like fate than a punishment.
Life is but a strand of happy accidents 14k • 4/? Chapter • AU
Summary: An alternative first meeting of Carlos and TK + Bartender!Carlos and Paramedic!TK
After all of the years, all of the tears, you are here somehow. 61k • 12 Chapters • AU Bodyguard!Carlos and Witness!TK.
Summary: Carlos took a breath, a polite smile on his face, “TK Strand, right?” He greeted, “Look I know this isn’t ideal-”
“Ideal?” The man interrupted, “What, spending the next month in the middle of nowhere with strangers?” TK scoffed, shaking his head, “No this is perfect,” He mocked.
I see forever in your eyes, I feel okay when I see you smile 8.7k • 3/? • AU Each genuine emotion your soulmate expresses to you adds colour to your world
Summary: “You can see it too?” TK choked, his eyes never leaving the sole colour in the room.
“It’s red,” Carlos said, looking over at TK
🌻 Dealing with grief 🌻
There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.3.5k •1 Chapter • Grief
Summary: TK tries to balance moments of joy with grief/guilt following the months after his mother's passing.
No matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on 2.8k • 1 Chapter • Grief
Summary: TK struggles with telling the people closest to him the real reason he opened the narcotics safe the day of his mother's funeral.
Now I have to remember you for longer than I have known you 3.1k • 1 Chapter • Grief
Summary: Based of this prompt I received: "Sad TK...what about Gwyn's first birthday after her death?"
TK tries to balance moments of joy with grief/guilt following the months after his mother's passing.
#911 lone star fic#tarlos fic#tarlos#aj’s fics#tuserjamie#actuallysara#usersneetches#bellamyblakeru#reyesstrand#reyeslonestartag#kiras-sunshine#ejsraven
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cracks in the merry thieves, or, some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc, pt. iii
A nomad needs space to breathe in order to heal. A dismissed shadow fights for oft-denied recognition. And an exchange student outgrows his friends. Not the picture of the Merry Thieves we're used to, I know, but it's what I see when I see Matthew, Christopher, and Thomas in the context of that group.
I've seen lots of people analyze Matthew and his past actions far more deeply and intelligently than I ever could do, but I'm going to talk about his future actions instead, as he's reconciled with most of the other Thieves by the ending of Chain of Thorns—save Christopher, in worlds where he both a) lives and b) sticks around in London long enough to hear Matthew out—and thus what he's about to do now has more consequence here. He's going to travel the world. And not just a cross-cultural exchange like Thomas is going on. He's expatriating from England. It seems pretty clear to me that he's not coming back. London is a place that hurt him, badly, and it's a place in which he hurt other people badly. Alastair and Charlotte, people he'll likely never look at again without carrying grief and guilt, are in London. To truly heal he needs to leave this place that will always remind him of pain, and that means leaving the friends he loved and hurt behind. He's already moving on.
Christopher I've talked about before. I have a whole long vent-post about him. TL;DR direct quotation of that, "He's consistently dismissed, even by those closest to him, as the cinnamon roll, the mad scientist, the one who's bad at social interaction, the one who's definitely not interested in romance, with no input from Christopher himself whatsoever at all to confirm or deny any of these stereotypes.
"He's belittled, his friends and even his sister treat him like he's six, not sixteen (upon hearing of his death Charles calls him 'Little Kit' as if the person in question wasn't two years away from being a legal adult). They seem to think he can't take care of himself just because he's absentminded, nobody ever tells him anything important (Thomas only realizes he should've told Christopher about Alastair once Christopher's gone), and any time he tries to step out of the 'mad scientist' box his decisions are questioned and he's thrown right back in."
He spends the entire series with very little validation or recognition from the narrative and its characters (we really only get one scene in his point of view, in Chain of Iron) and this is epitomized in how he's barely mourned. You might be alive in my version of events, but even so, ave atque vale, you brilliantly adorable bastard, since nobody in CC's canon said it.
And then there's Thomas. He's going through something I've experienced more than once in my life, and that I've watched many other people experience. You change in some way, whether that's an obvious milestone growing-up like starting college or something more personalized; say, switching program tracks in school (honors, STEM, fine arts, general track, etc.) to pursue a goal, or leaving a fandom, or in my case, becoming a publishing internet author. You grow out of the friends who don't follow you in taking that step, or a similar one (I remained friends with the visual art kids I know, but lost the theatre crowd), and you make new friends that fit your new life.
This isn't about age maturity, really, it's not about the fact that Thomas is legally an adult now. We can see Christopher begin a similar process in Chain of Thorns as he discovers Grace (who shares his interests in a way most of the Thieves do not) and chooses spending time with her over attending the Institute's Christmas ball. Thomas has made major steps away from the worldview of the rest of the Thieves: he's done what's essentially the TSC version of a cross-cultural exchange program. He's exploring romance in a way far more complicated than what we see, say, James going through with Grace and then Cordelia: as not only falling in love but also as a process of reconciliation and deep understanding between two people who have fundamentally changed since they first met six years ago. He's spent time away from his friends, gaining new experiences they haven't gained, and while he is in some ways no more more or less mature than his other friends his lifestyle and worldview are very different. Think about how changed you would be after spending most of a year in a country your friends haven't visited.
I can see in the series that he's slowly starting to outgrow the friends with whom he does not connect. They still get along but they're starting to go in different directions. He's already losing his connection to Christopher by the start of Chain of Thorns (he doesn't think to bring up Alastair until after that door is closed). James has settled down with Daisy (for as long as that lasts) and will therefore likely never get a cross-cultural experience like the one Thomas had. Matthew is getting one (his Voyage) but, while his relationship with Thomas seems to be okay at the end of Chain of Thorns, I don't see him sending notes to anyone but James. And all of them are quickly approaching real, functioning adulthood.
Most "real adults" I know in this world (not just people who are legally adults but are at an age where they're done their schooling and have lives of their own beyond it) don't keep in touch with their childhood friends much after college or high school. Like in the real world, I can see that, while they're still close at the end of Chain of Thorns, the Thieves will inevitably change so much that their differences pull them apart and, like real adults do, they'll scatter to the four winds and find new friends who speak to their new experiences.
In worlds where Christopher lives, I struggle to see him continuing his relationship with the rest of the Thieves much past that final London battle anyway. To fully realize all that potential he has, he needs to break from these people who treat him more like a baby brother than an equal friend on equal footing and move on to people like Grace who not only share his interests but make attempts to connect with him as an intellectual and a mature adolescent, and not just as a beloved hobbit who lives in Henry Fairchild's laboratory.
Thomas needs more friends who share his broad horizons: people like perhaps Cordelia, who like her brother has traveled extensively in her life, or like his cousin Anna who has spent years observing people and developing an analytical skillset that would make her an excellent therapist should demon-hunting ever not work out for her.
And as much as I love James and Matthew's dynamic, and as much as the dream is that parabatai will remain close as brothers always and forever, Matthew needs to travel the world. It's clear that this is his path to fulfillment as chemistry is for Grace and moving out of the house is for Arati. And I struggle to see him, after a long time spent traveling the world, as someone still able to connect to a friend who's chosen to not go anywhere at all.
TL;DR: I love the Merry Thieves. But they're not destined to stay best friends forever.
"some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc" is an attempt to break down the unacknowledged things in tsc that i unearthed reading chain of thorns, rereading the rest of the series in preparation for it, and writing two longform fanfics (one of them a genderbent canon reworking) for the last hours. click on the "some issues..." tag to see more of these.
#some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc#tsc#tlh#the last hours#the shadowhunter chronicles#fan analysis#analyzing the last hours#fan essay
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okay I cannot get enough of Farah the Fern. Please ignore my requests when they get to numerous 🤣
But Farah being bored of being a Fern so her leaves drop and everybody thinks something is wrong and they try to "save" her ( like trying rhe most ridiculous things like giving her water, or fresh air or sunlight and even a strengthening poition) but she was just depressed and needed a reminder that they all care about her💕
also Saul reading books about old magic to her because he knows she enjoys those even though he doesn't understand a thing
Putting the ANGST in everything I touch. I struggled SO HARD with this one, considering it's been like what, a month? Since you sent this lovely ask, but here it is! I'm not altogether happy with the ending, but I've been staring at it too long and I can't think of anything else.
On Ao3.
“Whoops,” Becca, a third year air fairy, scoops the idle pot into her arms, nearly leaving it unattended in the emptying classroom. “Sorry Miss Dowling, almost forgot you.”
Farah says nothing, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she’s a fern.
It’s been happening a lot more lately, and Farah understands, really she does. Alfea moves on, heals from the traumas of the last few months, picks up the pieces and carries forward stronger than before. Her students take to their studies with increased vigor, determined to protect themselves and their peers and families from the threats bearing down on their doorstep, both known and unknown. The specialists double their trainings and add additional practice with the fairies to strengthen their bonds and their teamwork. The fairies pick up weapons training and hand-to-hand combat with none of the fear and worry of causing harm to their classmates, to fight to first blood. They knock each other down and get back up with laughter and smiles and words of encouragement. The specialists attend potions and herbology without complaint or insulting quips about “fairy nonsense” to increase their knowledge of magical reactions, how they can use potions to combine with their fairy’s magic and fortify their weapons against various threats. They strengthen as a school, as a student body and a community, so they’re far more prepared for the next threat they face, when they face it. They understand it’s not a matter of “if.” She’s so unbelievably, beyond proud of them.
But even still. Alfea moves on, without her. She knew one day it would, that she’d step down, be set aside, that her role as headmistress, teacher, mentor, would become obsolete…
She just didn’t think, truthfully, that she’d be alive to see it. She technically shouldn’t be, but here she is, trapped in the clay confines of her pot forced to see and observe but not interact. As though watching through a window, a doll left in the box to be admired but never touched.
It isn’t so bad, in the beginning. They make such an effort to include her, to speak with her as normal, interact with her, carry her with them like it’s second nature to have her near. She learns to communicate the best she can, first through the language of the flowers and then through plants like the flytrap with enough dexterity to make her feelings known without the meaning requiring research. And as her strength grows, so do her short stints within her human form, quick practice sessions that lengthen into meaningful, quality time spent with the people she loves…
But they drain her. The magic she borrows from the scraps of convergence crystals are only the jumper cables to a battery that takes three times that amount of magical energy to hold her human form: the crystals only kickstart it. Farah agrees with Saul, at first, to take things slow, but her impatience grows quickly not at the lack of progress on her part -though it’s certainly a factor- but at everyone else’s clear progress. They’re leaving her behind. Not intentionally, not maliciously, but they are. And it’s not fair to ask them to slow down, limit themselves and their magic, when it’s her responsibility to play catch up.
Her girls can fly. They’ve taken her teachings to heart and gained wings, unlocked ancient fairy magic her generation had only ever dreamed of and read about in the archaic texts but could never fully grasp. She’s so proud.
She’s jealous. She’s bitter and angry and terribly, terribly sad for missing these things, trapped in a fucking pot, and fighting against it every day.
“True recovery takes time,” Ben says.
“Have patience,” he adds.
“We’ll figure this out eventually,” Saul promises.
She doesn’t have time, she doesn’t have patience, and she can’t stand to wait for eventually.
So she practices. She waits until the late hours of the evening when Saul’s gone to sleep and she can gather her magic in peace, reach beyond her consciousness and seek what she needs, practicing control and testing the strength of her magic. She pushes those jaunts outside her pot to the limit, until she’s stretched her magic so thin she doesn’t have the energy to even walk but she must, because if Saul finds out what she’s doing he’ll stop it, claim she’s overexerting herself.
She collapses, one night, after a day in her human form, spending it with the people she loves and all the while ignoring her magical limits, as her control slips away like grains of sand in an hourglass. She promises Saul to meet him in their suite but the second he’s left her office she’s supporting herself against the desk, her legs too weak to hold her weight so she drops to the floor, weak and lightheaded and gasping for breath, trying and failing to cling to her humanity because she can’t fucking live like this-!
Saul finds her returned to that damned pot an hour later. He tuts and smiles softly, scoops her into his arms and comments on “great progress” like it’s not a big deal that she’s made virtually no progress these last few hours, nor in as many weeks. They’re coming up on months now.
Farah droops the next morning, from all manners of fatigue. Saul waters her a little extra, which worsens her mood. She’s not a fucking house plant.
She hasn’t improved by lunch. Saul worries her leaves between his fingers, frowning at the discoloration on the ends, and calls for Ben. The herbalist suggests sunlight and fresh air, like she’s a fucking house plant. Farah can’t even muster the energy to become a cactus or a thistle to show her displeasure. She finds comfort being carried by Saul through the grounds, but not much else. She stares forlornly at the potted ferns that flank the garden hedges leading to the fountain. She looks just like them.
Maybe she is one of them. Maybe she’s not Farah Dowling at all, but only her essence, her memory. Maybe what she was is gone and what remains is a shadow and she isn’t meant to improve.
Nothing like a crisis of identity on a brisk Tuesday afternoon, she thinks bitterly.
Farah drifts through the afternoon in a fog nothing can shake her from. Flora’s strengthening potion drips uselessly from her leaves and turns a very confused pill bug into a small wrecking ball Terra spirits away before Ben can see. She doesn’t bother to ask her “Auntie Farah” not to say anything, because how is Farah going to tell him anyway? She’s a plant.
She watches dully as Saul completes her paperwork without direction or assistance. She listens barely when he reads to her from the old magical tomes on her shelves despite not understanding a thing. She exists separate from the bustle of the Winx suite as the girls prepare for various evening activities, Bloom off on a date with Sky, Terra meeting Kat, the others debating between a movie and sneaking off to Blackbridge.
“Maybe ixnay on the rule breaking,” Musa muses with a meaningful nod to Farah, but Beatrix purses her lips.
“It’s not like she’ll snitch. Miss D is cool.”
And she’s a plant.
Maybe that’s all she ever was. Maybe that’s all she’ll ever be.
~
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Hannah sniffles, and Ben heaves a sigh. He understands her frustration and upset: unfortunately, he’s just as lost on how to fix it.
“You leave it to me,” he tells the teary second year, “It’s nothing you’re doing wrong it’s-” He musters up an apologetic smile, “It’s complicated. I’m afraid it goes beyond the parameters of the herbologic.”
He waits for the girl to leave before turning to the drooping, dreary fern on the desk. Her leaves are brittle and browning, stems weak and crimped where they can’t hold their own weight. Anyone else might think the poor thing is dehydrated, but the soil is sufficiently damp and even Saul had admitted not wanting to water her anymore than necessary, worried about drowning her. Ben has a feeling their friend is drowning alright, just not in the usual way.
“If you don’t want us to worry, I’m afraid you’re not succeeding,” he informs her. Farah remains still and silent; she hasn’t been anything other than a fern in over a week, and a rapidly deteriorating one at that.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admits, crouching to lean his arms on the table, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t know that you’d tell me even if you could. I wouldn’t like to think you’ve given up, Farah. I’m not the only one who couldn’t stand it if you have.”
“Come back to us Farah,” he sighs, scooping up the pot gently so as not to jostle the leaves too violently, “You don’t know how much you’re missed.”
And maybe, he muses, that’s the problem.
~
Bloom lifts one of Farah’s brittle leaves with the tip of her pen, slumping dejectedly against the lunch table. Musa’s eyes pulse with purple light and she sighs, shaking her head.
“She’s not any better.”
“It’s so sad,” Flora pouts, “She’s all droopy.”
“She’s depressed,” Musa elaborates, “She’s frustrated at the lack of progress and herself. She’s basically given up.”
“She can’t give up,” Bloom snaps, “Do you hear me? You can’t give up Miss Dowling. If you give up, Rosalind wins. You’ve got to keep fighting to prove her wrong. Isn’t that the purest of all reasons?”
“She’s probably wondering ‘what’s the point?’” Beatrix plops into the seat beside Stella, “She’s a plant. We aren’t. She can’t communicate, we can’t understand. If she doesn’t change back, who’s to say what’ll happen? We could forget her, or she’ll wither away into nothing.”
“Don’t be rude,” Aisha snaps and Stella placates the air fairy with a hand on her arm before she can snap back.
“She isn’t,” she defends, “At least not intentionally. But she’s right: if Miss Dowling doesn’t change back, what does that mean for us? For her? Silva will take over permanently and they’ll have to hire someone else for magical theory.”
“Stop it!” Bloom snarls, “You’re talking about her like she’s dead and she’s right here. She’s not going anywhere and she hasn’t given up, because we’re never going to give up on her.”
“But see I think that’s just it,” Terra pipes up, and her voice is thick with emotion for her pseudo-aunt’s state, “I think she has given up and if she has there’s- well there’s really nothing we can do.”
The admission plunges them into silence. It’s only broken when a fourth year fairy approaches, waving tentatively at the melancholy group.
“Um hiya, sorry, it’s just, we-” she motions to her table of friends “-sort of overheard and it’s just- well we wanted to say to Miss Dowling that we’ve always really appreciated her.”
“She’s the best,” another fairy pipes up.
“I thought she’d be a total hardass -no offense- but she’s seriously chill,” another adds.
“Her classes are so much fun,” the fourth year continues, “My friends back home, well, they never got my fascination with ancient runes but she was always so encouraging about it. I wrote a paper on translations just for a but of fun and she read the whole thing, like, she said she would but I didn’t think she actually would.”
The fourth year shares a look with her friends, taking a shaky breath, “See, thing is… if Miss Dowling’s given up we just- well we- we didn’t get to say… a proper goodbye… before. And so if she is, you know, um. We just thought we’d like to tell her how much she means to us, and how much we’ll miss her.”
“Miss who?” A passing third year asks, which catches the attention of the nearby table of second year specialists and fairies.
“Dowling,” a specialist boy pipes up, “She’s kicking the bucket, or pot, as it were.”
“She’s dying?” The third year gasps and Terra waves her hands for attention.
“No, no she’s fine! Well not fine but she’s holding on, she’s just feeling a bit-”
“Depressed,” Musa supplies.
“Miss Dowling’s depressed?” And the third year’s voice carries through the canteen; a hush falls and all eyes turn to the Winx and their droopy herbalogic headmistress, who gives no indication -positive or otherwise- that’s she’s heard the spreading wool-gathering going on around her mental state.
“Depressed?”
“Miss Dowling?”
“We talking about Dowling?”
“You mean she’s given up?” Someone calls above the murmuring and the Winx girls share looks.
“Um, yeah, we think,” Stella answers, and the murmuring increases, several cries ranging from disbelief to upset to outrage. A fairy breaks out into a broken sob, and several others follow suit.
“Miss Dowling can’t leave us!”
“Look what happened the last time!”
“There’s no Alfea without Dowling!”
“She’s the beating heart of this school,” and Silva’s voice cuts above the din, reinstituting the hush from before. He folds his arms. Slowly, then with increased vigor, the rest of the student body agrees, a cacophony of praise and support from the fairies and specialists, all directed at the derelict Miss Dowling.
“We love you Miss D!”
“Please don’t leave us!”
“We need you!”
“You don’t believe me?” Silva calls, addressing the drooping fern. “Believe them. Listen to them Farah.”
It’s Bloom that notices first, the brown of a leaf rapidly giving way to green, crumpled fronds unfurling and lengthening back to health. The more the students rally for their headmistress, the more she perks up, and in a burst of sparkling magic, there she sits, radiant and lively once more.
“There she is,” Saul grins. It radiates pride but it’s tinged with relief, and Farah’s sorry she ever caused him any pain on her behalf.
She’s back.
#fate the winx saga#farah dowling#fate winx saga#fate: the winx saga#ftws#fate fics#eve best#saul silva#farah dowling x saul silva#farah x saul#silrah#rob james collier#bloom winx#abigail cowen#terra harvey#eliot salt#winx musa#elisha applebaum#beatrix winx#sadie soverall#winx stella#hannah van der westhuysen#ben harvey#alex macqueen#winx aisha#precious mustapha
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GRANDFLAIR - VOICE COLLECTION
━
"Have a good day today, okay? I mean as our new guild keeper, of course."
"It's been a long time since you first joined the Moon Wanderers. I guess I kinda take you for granted these days…"
" Where to next?"
"Just don't do anything crazy."
"We don't have enough food in the pantry… Hopefully we can find a place to stock up."
"Run all you want. Just don't fall down."
"It was worth a shot. We'll win next time for sure."
"As a living painter… I'm just trying to do the best I can."
"Hm? Like a mother you say? Haha, well… I guess you're right. I'm the guardian of this team."
"Taking care of these guys is a pain in the ass. If you need any help at all, just ask."
"I think we're gonna work well together. I'm sure we'll see some good results."
"I will be your shield."
"Don't let your guard down."
"How's it going?"
"We won't go down that easily!"
"I can handle this…"
"There's only one way this ends!"
"Here's my drawing, freshly bloomed! It'll never wither."
"Good call."
"I let my guard down…"
" A triump of teamwork!"
"Dammit… I won't let it end this way…"
"Quite a haul, huh?"
"You've got to keep honing your skills."
"To save someone's life…"
"I welcome you as the newest member of my Moon Wandering family. I look forward to working with you in the future."
"I trust you're getting used to life with the Moon Wanderers? I'll be relying on you more from now on."
"I don't know how to say this, but… Even since you came here, I've felt the bond between us growing stronger by the day.”
"I can't help but feel happier knowing my life's work brings you joy."
"To be a living painter is one thing, but to keep someone alive and on the right path… I can't help but think that my dream will come true, so long as you're by my side."
"Just a glance is all it takes to bring someone's heart back to life. I want to paint a picture like that one day."
"Since you came into my home, I've seen more smiles on people's faces than ever before. Myself included, of course."
"I don't want to hurt people anymore. As a living painter, my goal is to heal people and one day… One day, bring someone back to life."
"Layers of shading, creating new colors… Encounters between people and painting seem similar."
"What's up? Are you finished already?"
"The feelings I entrusted to this painting are beginning to open and bloom. Are you watching?"
"Crow, Itsuki, Noah, Rouge, and… Emma… I will protect all of you!"
"I will not forget the time I spent as a mercenary. At the same time, the sins I've committed will never disappear."
"My reason to fight? In the past it was for honor and admiration. Now… it's to protect what matters."
"I will protect you."
"I carry my thoughts in my brush. As for this shield? It's no joke. I will protect you all."
"Now where to go? We've got some time to kill, so let's stretch our wings."
"This is a nice change of pace. Do you feel relaxed, too? Let's work hard again tomorrow."
"A living painting… Is the magical embodiment of someone's drawing."
"Live painting is a very deep world to explore. No matter how far you go, there is no end. That's why it's so interesting."
"You're interested in my live painting? Well, as an artist, I'm honored."
"I was wondering… What do you think of my living painting? I'd appreciate an honest opinion."
"…'You like it'…? It's not beautiful or nice, you just… Like it? Hmm… No one's ever praised me so highly."
"Thank you, Emma. I will keep trying. I hope to get your opinion moving forward."
"Hm? Oh, do I have paint on me? My apologies."
"Yellow cheeks? Oh, it must be a splash of the paint I was using while drawing."
"Whoa! Oh, you startled me… Touching my neck all of a sudden. It's not blood. I'm sorry I worried you."
"Mm? Sorry… Did you get it? Thank you."
"I'm usually the one who cares about how everyone else looks, so I get nervous when someone takes care of me."
"Oh, it's not a bad feeling. You've got a lot of people to take care of, though."
"It's no surprise… Our hands are so different in size. I'll have to handicap myself next time."
"Okay, here we go! Hm? Oh, you're getting better! That's what I'm talking about, Emma…"
"You want to thumb wrestle? Sure. Think you can beat me?"
"One more time? Ha! I'll take you on as much as you want!"
"The more you try… The more I see you improving… Damn!"
"Haha, I got a little carried away there. But it's nice having fun like this every once in a while, huh?"
"Ah~… I've been painting so long my shoulders are killing me. I'm glad you agreed to take a walk with me."
"I got some good inspiration! Stay tuned for my next painting! …Maybe I set expectations too high…"
"Hm? What's wrong with my arms? I know they're big."
"How strong am I? Hmm… I could lift you with one hand. Want to see?"
"Ha, you're so touchy-feely. I hope you like it. Makes it worth all the work I put in."
"But, uhh… I'm sure it's probably okay, but… Don't touch guys this closely, okay?"
"I'm worried. If you do that to me, I might not be able to handle it."
"Being alone with you isn't a bad thing. I don't have anyone else to worry about."
"To tell you the truth… I always wanna be alone with you. To have you all to myself… Embarrassing as that is to say…"
"Yeah, let's walk hand in hand. Y'know, it kinda comes naturally whenever I’m with you."
"What's the matter? Is there something on my face?"
"You don't have to be so careful. The pain is long gone. That's it…"
"Your hands are so gentle, it's soothing when you touch my scars…"
"It's… A strange feeling… Warm… Like a fire's been lit…"
"It… Seems to ease the pain in my heart… I just wish it could stay that way a little while longer…"
"Every now and then I get to thinking… How differently my life could have gone, if only I'd met you sooner…"
"You went to all this trouble for my birthday? Your feelings and this gift will hold me over 'til another year."
"Thank you, but… I can't possibly accept any more today. Another time, perhaps."
"This is…! A beautiful work of art… Thank you, I'll take good care of it."
"Hmm? You're giving this to me? I should do something to thank you."
"Hmm? You're… Giving me this? Uh, well… Thank you…"
"I'm glad you're having fun, but… That's enough for today."
"I have a little something for you. It's a present. I want you to have it."
"…Th-Thank you! It's just the way I like it. I'm so proud of you."
"This means… 'Overcome your weaknesses?' Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"I'm sorry to see you go, too… But we'll meet again soon, right? I hope…"
━
CROW : Gran~? You gotta move faster than that! They only sell a hundred cheesecakes a day! We gotta get there before they sell out!
GRANDFLAIR : Oh my… Oh no… It's time like this I realize you're still just a boy, Crow…
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CROW : You watch the front, okay?
GRANDFLAIR : Yeah, I'll take care of it.
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CROW : I knew I could count on you!
GRANDFLAIR : I'm on edge whenever you're around.
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ROUGE : Gran, I have a hangover…
GRANDFLAIR : I'm begging you to please take this mission seriously for once.
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ROUGE : Hah…Ah…I'm finally sobering up…
GRANDFLAIR : If you keep dawdling I'll leave you here, you drunkard.
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ROUGE : Gran~! I'm begging you man! Please lend me the money~! If you don't, I'll starve to death!
GRANDFLAIR : You're always broke, Rouge. I'm not lending you any more money.
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GRANDFLAIR : The Moon Wanderers are a reckless bunch. Having someone like you around helps calm me, Himmel.
HIMMEL : Is that so…What a strange way of looking at things…
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GRANDFLAIR : Himmel, can you do it?
HIMMEL : I wouldn't get your hopes up…
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GRANDFLAIR : Let's get to work!
HIMMEL : This scent is… Strong…
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GRANDFLAIR : Thank you for your help, Himmel.
HIMMEL : You fight them to no end…
━
HIMMEL : Just when you think you've got your foot in the door…
GRANDFLAIR : It's not a waste of time, Himmel…
#Otome#Yumekuro#Yumekuro Translations#YMKR translations#YMKR#Dream Meister Translations#Otome Translations#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy translations#Himmel#GranVoice
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I'm gonna ask you to bare with me for a second here. I have a non-Psychonauts game that's been stuck in my craw ever since I played it.
And like...I don't know of anyone that's also played it or even heard of it. I guess this is a recommendation? All I know is that I can't stop thinking about it. I'm probably never going to forget it.
youtube
The game is out now, I just think this trailer gets the game across better than the release date trailer.
Farming sims are kind of an odd beast aren't they? Most of the time there's a Back to Nature Simpler Times Heal Your Soul By Growing a Simple Turnip theme but like...the mechanics never quite match for me. It's still capitalism. It's still running your farm the most efficient and money-making way possible to buy more stuff to make more money. That's not really a criticism, mind; I like farming games as much as the next person, even if the Cozy game genre has been throwing them out so hard and fast I needed to play a bloody violent shooter as a break from all the Wholesomeness.
So it was just a little bit of a lurch to play a game where the farming is working towards something, namely a ticket to the moon.
Before the Green Moon has you farming a piddly little patch of land on a post-apocalyptic Earth to save your pennies to start your life over. You know someone up on the moon colonies, or so you think. You haven't seen them in forever, there've been no letters. They might not be there anymore. They might not even be alive.
But what else are you going to do? The only way you have a future is on the moon. You can't live in this dinky little town of, like, six people forever.
But you do live there. You can't help but talk to them. You only get a few seeds every morning to start with, and once you're done with that there's just nothing else to freakin' do. They teach you to fish, they ask you to plant new seeds, you get a free stamina-boosting meal at the mess because you're a neighbor. You develop your relationships and make friends and become part of the community full in the knowledge that eventually you're leaving and never coming back.
It's a bittersweet experience. You might have guessed.
Before the Green Moon reminds me of a game Love De Lic might have made back in the day. Specifically, it reminds me of Moon RPG (hey wait a minute). The emphasis on being in the world and getting to know the community around you, sharing in their hopes and fears even though it's not really your world, not really your home. Maybe it could be, in a different life, under a different set of circumstances. But it's not. Eventually you'll move on. That's just the end of the story.
I love the way that hangs over your head the entire time. Do you really want to start dating the melancholy scientist girl when you know it'll only hurt her if it gets too serious before you go ? Do you come help the cook at the mess hall clean up each night or leave him to it when it seems like he's falling in love with you? What about the person who thinks farmers are bad luck? Do you keep up that relationship just because there's only six people to talk to total and you already chatted with the mayor today?
One thing that kept getting to me is that people from the moon come down to this crumbling little town you're trying to escape and they...suck? They really suck. They're too good to talk to you, they clog up the streets, they make the wait at the mess hall take two to three times as long, and they dump plastic takeout boxes and styrofoam cups all over the place. It's not clear why they've come down in the first place.
Maybe it's heartening to think you could come back to this little town if you wanted but...if you started a life on the moon and came back like this, who would even recognize you?
Aside from an annoying glitch where my anti hurricane poncho refused to protect me from hurricanes, I don't think I can speak highly enough of this game. It's a short experience that lives right in the middle of bitter and sweet and if you like contemplative atmospheric video games, I highly recommend it.
#Before the Green Moon#off topic#Is this annoying? Does anyone actually mind if I stray from the theme of the blog?#I don't plan to make this a series or anything#Just sometimes I'd like to show people something that grabs me#Especially if nobody's heard of it#Trust me if anyone was talking about this#I wouldn't be#Youtube
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jaune the wizard au) jaune backs mana potion cookies to keep his little friend in top shape while he studies basic shamanism. (most nature spirits aren't THERE enough to actually communicate but you can convince them to do what they normally do in a different place. since they passively produce nature magic getting them to all move to a glenn can make it a magical glen perfect for healthy pixies to grow more powerful in.) of course the issue is that until he learns to better identify and convince the minor spirits of the forest around his school jaune's kinda stuck giving neo mana potions to keep her alive. and the potions themselves taste bad but when put in baked goods that pixies have a truly endless appetite for it makes them very... affectionate.
tldr: jaune makes medicinal magic cookies and neo is a slut for them not sure how that one's gonna work out
Jaune zoomed about the kitchen as he grabbed bottles and books from their shelves to find the answer he sought. He had a potion and a spell for everything; stamina recovery, baking pies, warding off vampires, dog food. But nothing on healing injured pixies.
Neo the Prankster was still weak and wounded from their fight with the shadow lion. The divines ignored his pleas because Neo was, in their words, "a fucking bitch". Apparently, her pranks were not limited to the mortal realm.
Pixies were a mystery in themselves as well. Any pixies caught for study either escaped and destroyed any research notes developed and usually the researchers with them, or they died in captivity from boredom and cursed the knowledge to be lost or made secret with their final breath. Neo was no exception in any regard.
Looking in the bedroom, he saw Neo Politan sleeping on the pillow, a doily placed over her for as a blanket. She hadn't moved in almost three days. It was heartbreaking.
Hearing a bird outside, he watched as it hopped along the sill. It was then Jaune had an idea. He asked every divine he knew, except one.
It was time to pay Mother Earth a visit.
---------------------------------------------------
Jaune was deep in the forest. He must have walked half the day to reach this place. He had been here once before, back when he first communed with divines. It was here he met his first, true friend of the divines, and where he swore his pact with Neo.
It was a spring, with crystal clear water pouring over a cliff. Whatever time of day it was, there was alway a glow to it, as if shadows could never touch it. The grass was always green, and the trees around it so full of life.
A bleat drew his attention away as he was knocked over. Looking up, he saw the wild's spite, Adam, a goat with small black horns hidden in a fiery red coat. Along his back, a red blade glowed with malice. Malice intended for humans, and especially for Jaune.
"I'm not here to fight, Adam." Jaune stood up slowly, keeping his hands raised.
Adam snorted and charged. Jaune grabbed him by the ears and swept low to kick his legs. Adam leapt onto his hind legs, slipping out of Jaune's grasp. Jaune sprung from his low point and dove between his front hooves, then began punching Adam hard in his underbelly. Jaune then threw the goat off of himself.
"I told you, Adam." Jaune panted. He looked around and saw the rest of nature's spirits gather.
Nature's guard, Ghira, was a panther, a huge one at that, who seemed to hide easily when he wanted to.
Nature's wrath, Sienna, was a tigress, and eyed Jaune curiously. Maybe she wanted to join in the fight?
Nature's opportunity, Malachite, was a spider, and was always followed by her red and green dragonflies. She landed on Jaune's shoulder, giving him a shiver.
A new face that Jaune only recently met, nature's guide, was a blackish-bluish dog with folded ears. What was his name? Sparrow? No time to bother right now.
"I'm looking for the Guardian of the Green." Jaune explained. "Has anyone seen her?"
Sienna yawned, then sat in place. She began to groom her paw, nodding as she did.
"Where is she?"
Sienna stood up, then approached Ghira. She nuzzled against his neck, then strolled behind him, where she mounted him. Ghira simply layed down as she continued to hump.
Jaune rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was nothing new, but always infuriating. The Guardian of the Green believed the most beautiful season was, is, and always will be spring, because of the many cute babies that are born or hatched in the wild. Seeing these babies excited her, making her jump the first human in sight. Thankfully, she couldn't be impregnated by human seed, so there were no demigods.
The thought, though, reminded him of his first meeting with her. He had just saved a boar from a group of hunters. In return for his kindness, she threw herself upon him. He would have been powerless if not for Neo.
Neo.
"Please, I need to heal my friend." He bowed low to his knees, hands spread out on the ground. "She's in danger. I need something that will save."
He felt something touch his hair. It was soft and light. It then became a hand, softly petting him. He looked up and saw the Guardian smiling softly down on him. She had a tear in her eye.
She was as beautiful as the first and last time he saw her. She had dark, chestnut brown hair, with two rabbit ears protruding from her head. She wore a pelt made of leather and furs of all animals of the forest, and crown of feathers ringed her hair.
She nodded, and a mushroom grew from under his chin. She plucked it, and handed it to the wizard.
"How can I repay you?" Jaune asked as he rose to his feet. She didn't answer, or move from her seated position. She continued to stare forward, licking her lips. Jaune sighed. "I should have known."
---------------------------------------------------
Neo cracked her eyes open. A heavenly aroma stirred her from her recovery sleep. Dusk was beginning to settle as an orange glow dimmed over the horizon. She looked to her left and saw Jaune sitting there.
Her eyes wided as she identified the smell as an elixer cookie. She loved her sweets, but she had yet to find a sweet greater than what was sitting on a plate in front of her.
Shakily, she stood on her feet, falling to the comforting pillow once. Standing again, she flapped her wings and took flight. It's said a pixie is born in midair, and walking was what they learned after flying. This appeared true as Jaune watched Neo immediately dart over the gap between the bed and the chair, and began devour the cookie with a vigor.
"I'm glad you're back, Neo." He then yawned, feeling beat from the day. "It's almost time for bed."
Neo flew up and pointed at her mouth. Jaune looked down and saw the cookie was gone. It surprised him, since the cookie was three times her size. Where did she put it?
"You want another?" Neo nodded. "I'm sorry, but I only had enough for one."
Neo pouted, then sighed silently. It wasn't like her to give up so easily. She must still be tired from her recovery. Jaune shrugged and slipped into bed.
As he laid there, he couldn't help but feel, well, not tired. He couldn't explain it! If anything, he felt he could go for a sprint all night!
Neo touched down next to his head, patting above his temple. She pecked it and smiled. From what she could tell, he was already feeling the effects of her stamina spell. Good, because he was going to need it.
The world suddenly became large, scaring him a bit. But then he understood the room wasn't growing, he was shrinking! In a blink he was laying on his pillow, and only on his pillow! How did-?!
"Neo?!" Jaune called out, then watched as she fluttered down, an impish grin on her face. Once she touched down, he noticed he was twice her size. Still bigger than her, just in a different way. "Did you do this?!"
Neo nodded. She then held out her left hand, then extended her right thumb with a waggle. She hooked it under her right strap and pulled it off her shoulder. He gulped as she did the same with the other. Licking her lips, she knelt down and crawled over him.
Tonight, Neo was going to enjoy her prank on Jaune. And she'll do it all night long.
#rwby#rwby au#jaune arc#neo politan#neopolitan#adam taurus#lil miss malachite#sienna khan#ghira belladonna#marrow amin#velvet scarletina#silent knight#jaune the wizard au
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I'm so tired.
One of my friends made a vent post very similar to this, but there's something I just need to write down somewhere that's having to do specifically with the psychological and metaphysical of the current state of things.
I've had plans to cast protections and healings and whatnot on people for a long time, specifically YouTube and Twitch creators because the audiences have gone from a relatively calm, supportive community, to obsession, warring with each other, careless actions, forgetting that the creators are still people just like everyone else but just because they have more eyes on them, the rules are different. This is not to excuse the frankly awful, terrible things that a lot of people think they can do and just get away with because they're of a different status. This is to say that the people who have changed, the people who have taken genuine strides, disappointingly few as they are, shouldn't just be condensed down to something they've tried to put behind them.
I can guarantee you, if they've genuinely tried to do better, then they're haunted by what they've done. If it's punishment or repercussion you're boiling to watch them suffer through, then being haunted by yourself is pain enough. Move on. Focus on you. They're just people, someone whose life isn't yours. Your time shouldn't be consumed by your anger and disdain for them.
Being one of the practitioners that wants to do castings for social justice and public safety and equity and everything, being a healer, being someone who's fallen down more psychological rabbit holes than I can count and who's survived because of it, I know that things won't get solved until we get to the root of the problem.
Which means people cooling their jets and not being all-or-nothing.
People understanding that others are complex and that they don't always make the best choices.
Everyone understanding and respecting privacy, even going so far as to protect it whenever they can.
Having dignity, having self-respect, taking the time to better themselves rather than worrying about the latest gossip in internet-land.
For the love of the storms above and below, heal yourself first! Please!
Heal yourself first. Do your research. Stop being so petty and hexing and cursing and throwing hate absolutely everywhere at the drop of a hat just because something's changed in your life.
You can't force everything to stay the same no matter how desperately you want it to. You can't force anyone or anything alive into a box because it will grow. It will grow and it will grow and it will root and it will leaf and it will twist and push and press and it will grow out of that box the moment you blink and don't you DARE think that you can stare forever against that Weeping Angel because you can't.
Because anything alive isn't perfect.
And anything alive, its nature is to change. Is to be. Changed.
You are not invulnerable to the repercussions of your own actions, of your own decisions. You cannot do whatever you please and think you can get away with it Just Because. Good or bad, positive or negative, maybe even neutral, repercussions can and will happen.
It is in the best interest of you and your goals and everyone you care about that you do whatever you can to leave a positive mark.
The world has enough hate already.
Constantly and consistently piling rot on top of a garden does nothing but smother what's trying to grow.
I don't know how to end this. I'm just so tired of being one of the few I know of striving to try and pull the infestation out by the roots.
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