Good morning Moddy! I had an early am thought, and wonder... just how far will Vader go to protect his damaged brother, ObiWan, in the yourwords au? And who gets to find out this first? Palps? The Rebellion? (tells Bail what will happen to the next one to upset Obi?) Maybe one of the Moffs? Would it get to a 'Hail Emperor Vader' moment? Or 'Hail Nightmare Vader'? (Curiosity killed the cat? MEOW)
“Bail, what is wrong?” Mon blinked at the holo of her friend as
the man himself seemed pale even over the holo as he stared at his
own hands for a long moment. She hadn’t seen him this out of sorts
since the revelation of what Gerrera’s faction had done to Obi-Wan
had come out.
Her fellow Senator slowly looked up and stared at her for a long,
mute moment before speaking. “I just had another visitation from
Mon’s blood went cold, worry for Bail itching through her even as
she heard the personnel around her go more quiet in an attempt to
listen in on the conversation.
“And?” She questioned quietly.
“…Mon who did you tell that Obi-Wan was staying out of the fight?
Who contacted Obi-Wan to demand he’d ‘get over’ being raped and
tortured by the Alliance rougher factions and fight for what was
‘right’?” Bail stared at her and she blinked at him before
“Because Darth Vader himself came marching into my office, broke my
door with the Force, choked my aid almost to death and threatened me
by the end of his lightsaber that the next time the Alliance contacts
Obi-Wan to demand he fight, Vader is personally hunting down every
last member and personally choke them to death slowly and steadily
until their eyes bulge out.” Bail stared at her. “And that’s
his own words, verbatim Mon. He won’t stand for anyone reaching out
to Obi-Wan to get him to fight… so who did you tell that Obi-Wan
was in the custody of Darth Vader that also knew of what happened to
Mon stared at Bail for a long moment, the only sounds in the tactical
room was the sound of machines. “…The entire Alliance leadership
knows Bail. I couldn’t keep such a thing a secret, that a Jedi was
alive and in the custody of the Emperor’s attack dog.” She
Bail groaned and dropped his face in his hands, shoulders visibly
shaking. “Oh sweet Stars…” Bail whispered before the connection
abruptly cut out.
Mon swallowed heavily, wondering what the future would bring.
It was however abundantly clear that when it came to Obi-Wan Kenobi,
the Alliance would have to thread carefully because any threat,
imagined or real, towards the man would be handled both ruthlessly
and brutally by a dark clothed attack dog.
Settling the helmet down on the table and throwing his cape onto a
chair, Anakin carefully toed out of his shoes before crawling into
the bed beside Obi-Wan and drew the resting redhead against him.
The movement however woke him up and blinked sleepy eyes at him
before breaking into a small smile.
“Anakin.” He yawned and shifted up enough to press a kiss to the
others burn scarred cheek before settling back down again.
“Hello Obi-Wan.” Anakin murmured, gently stroking the others hair
in return with a pleased glow in his stomach at the others soft
little hum of pleasure, not to mention the kiss only moments before.
“Mmmn, M7 really pushed me through therapy today. I feel exhausted
so I went to bed early.” The Jedi confessed quietly, eyes closed as
he slowly shifted his mech arm around the others waist to settle it
Returning the favor, Anakin gently stroked at the small of the others
back when his arm settled around his waist. “I see. You had dinner
Snorting quietly, Obi-Wan nodded into his chest with another yawn.
“Course I did. Dinner and a shower, promise.”
Pleased, Anakin pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Good.
Now go back to sleep. You’re clearly still exhausted.” He
murmured and grinned to himself when moments later Obi-Wan did just
that. ‘Well I did tell him to go back to sleep…’ He thought
The ‘All Hallows eve’ Collection is here, launched and available to buy! :D <3
Remember if you spend over £30 from now until the end of October including atleast 1 piece from the Halloween collection and excluding shipping you get a FREE Halloween goodie bag with Felt Halloween gift bag, Halloween bangle, Halloween earrings and Halloween sweets!
So I actually really like that idea. Of Nicemarity!Donatella throwing a Nightmare Night Ball. And it being an Open House invitation in her Canterlot Mansion.
Remember, much like many super heroes/villains, Rarity’s Donatella is an alter ego comes out at night and has a separate life from Rarity in many respects.So following along with my AU she has a mansion in Canterlot sometimes and I think it’d be nice to meet a lot of other rp’rs that I haven’t interacted with yet.
I might make a post about it later with rules and details and stuff.
Whether I post it on actual Halloween or not idk. This month is weird and devoted mostly to moving and my shitastic life trying to rearrange itself again but we’ll see how it goes. I’m glad I just thought of this though.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Then again, you very well might have in this city.” It certainly wouldn’t surprise Gareth, the allure of Nola brought something new everyday. Some new curiosity–or nightmare depending on one’s point of view. “What’s got you so spooked?”
Here is my collection of links for amazing avengers fics in alphabetical order because I am weird like that. Feel free to add any you want and yeah here you go lovelies! Oh and all work credit goes to the appropriate authors go love them because they are great!
The Halloween offer is still running! Get your order sent in a FREE Halloween gift bag with free bangle, earrings and sweets when you spend over £30 including atleast one Halloween item. Lot’s still available on our Etsy store <3 ^.^
The shade had ignored it at first, going about his night of instilling fear in the hearts of children and reveling in their misery. He had gone from house to house, when he noticed the small black creature growing closer and closer with every home he visited.
Was it following him? He had had his fill for the night and was just about to return to his lair, when he saw it again. That same little furry creature.
Pitch gave it a suspicious glare. Well, no doubt it had followed him this far. Perhaps he should pay it some mind then. He approached the kitten, a hairless brow raised. “..hello.” he said, looking down.
Slowly, the Boogeyman raised an ashen hand and tested it on the kitten’s head. He gave it a little scratch, a small smile forming on the shade’s face. “Hmm.. Quite the fluffy thing, aren’t you?” he said. Pitch continued to pet the kitten, lightly scratching from its head to its tail.
When the moment had passed, the shade let the kitten be, returning to the shadows and subsequently back to his lair. He hoped no one had seen that.. The Boogeyman stopping to pet a kitten.. He would be ruined.
This couldn’t be happening! His eyes were fine yesterday and now, all of a sudden, all he saw before him darkness. An endless see of darkness. Was this a punishment from Arceus himself? How was he supposed to do his work like this?! He couldn’t be a spy for Team Magma anymore like this. He couldn’t do anything at all for the team like this!
Despair settled in. Tears falling down from the eyes he couldn’t see through anymore.
When he heard his alternates voice, his ears perked up. He knew it was one of his alternates talking to him, but, he didn’t know who exactly.
“I… I can’t see anything…” His voice croaked, hands touching his surroundings.
This was a nightmare!
Ruby blinked in curiosity. He couldn’t see anything? Well, that was strange. Moving towards the Magma slowly, Ruby rested a hand on his shoulder and knelt down.
“You can’t see anything? At all?” Ruby waved a hand in front of his face to see if it’s get a response. If the Magma was crying then this was serious.
“Maybe we should go to an eye doctor? Maybe they can tell us what’s wrong.” Ruby suggested helping his alternate up. “I mean maybe it’s temporary?”
(tw: depression, suicide, abuse, very dark themes/mental
I’m going to warn you all
right now, this post is going to be very dark for the first half. Even with the
trigger warning above, I still feel that I need to say that this is an
extremely raw, honest post. I’m not going to sugarcoat anything because I want people to really understand the weight of what mental illness truly is.
Depression is gross. So
many people hear the word “depression” and get a mental image of some
goth kid standing in the rain, some neat little red lines on their wrists,
listening to coldplay as their heavy eyeliner rolls down their cheeks.
That’s not even close to what
mental illness is.
Depression isn’t just feeling
sad. Depression is an impossible void, a vile weight that pulls your mind
to the pits of depravity. Depression is feeling trapped, locked and caged
by your own thoughts. You cry for hours because all you can feel is
despair; and the worst part is there’s no real reason to
feel this way. You can be surrounded by family and friends who love you,
and yet you are being poisoned by your own mind, the one thing you can’t get
I have suffered from
depression since middle school. I will be 20 in December. Over the
years, the depression has waxed and waned, ranging from unbearable to only just
manageable. But I kept going, still able to manage my life somewhat
reasonably. Six months ago, however, depression hit me in a way it never
has before. And this time was different. So different.
I won’t give too many details
about my past, but I was emotionally/psychologically abused by my parents my
whole life, to the point where I had been brainwashed to see myself as a sick,
mean, crazy, unbearable human. They even taught my two younger sisters to
fear me, acting like I was a diseased animal frothing at the mouth while they
pointed and explained why “she’s a mental case”. When I had
panic attacks from my anxiety, ones that would cause me to literally throw up
and shake and cry, they would tell me I was “scaring the girls” and
my siblings would be herded away, as if I was a threat. As well as this
abuse, I was bullied and sexually harassed throughout my middle school years.
When I finally got out of
that house and into college, I was excited. I could finally start my own
life. I could prove to my parents that I wasn’t crazy, I could make a
life for myself. I finally had been given a chance to show everyone that
my mental illness didn’t define me, that I could be independent and stand on my
But when I got to college, I realized something terrifying.
Even a few states away from Ohio (my home), my parents’ voices still
lingered in my head. My mind had been twisted in ways I couldn’t fix, 18
years being told I was psycho, I was mean, I was cruel, I was scary, I was
insane. Instead of hearing insults from my parents’ mouths, I found that
my head filled the gap on its own, supplying harsher words than had ever been
thrown my way before.
Depression is gross. I
went from being a straight A student all of high school and my first college
semester to failing every single class. For four months, I didn’t leave
my dorm room except to use the toilet. I didn’t shower for weeks at a time,
and I never did laundry. I didn’t eat most of the time. I rarely
slept. Sometimes I would stay awake for three consecutive days at a time,
staring at a blank wall, sometimes bursting into tantrums of crying and self
punishment. Every time I saw my reflection in the mirror, I screamed
insults at the disgusting, sick, mental bitch staring back at me. I got
images of tearing my body apart, disemboweling myself, slitting my neck on
broken glass. Self mutilation and suicide became the subjects of most of
my dreams, dreams I only had after I had stayed up so long that I was fevered
and sick from lack of sleep, only to collapse from pure exhaustion. I was
so angry at myself for being alive, because I didn’t deserve to take up space
on this planet. How DARE I keep living, how DARE I try to live my life, how
DARE I go one more day without at least attempting suicide?
Since I was trapped in my
room by fear, anger, and debilitating depression, I had little else to do but
find distractions online to give my head some silence. That’s how I found
Markiplier. I found his Five Nights at Freddy’s playthrough, and watched
the whole thing. I didn’t particularly like the guy, but it was a
distraction. it was a voice other than my own to listen to, something
that had nothing to do with how messed up I was. I then went to his
channel to see what other games he’d played, and something caught my eye.
It was a playlist called “Neverending Nightmares”. Out of
curiosity, I clicked on it.
When I watched Mark play that
game, I was shocked that someone had gone through a similar mental state as
mine and had created a game out of it. The mood, confusion, anxiety, and
awful imagery of that game was scarily reminiscent of how life felt for me.
And as I watched this game portray (what felt like) my own personal
insanity, I watched for Mark’s reaction. I waited for the disgust, the
fear, the alienation, the insults to start flying from this normal person’s
mouth. But I was shocked.
Mark didn’t respond with fear
and disgust, or confusion. He was, for lack of better terminology,
intrigued. Sympathetic even. Knowing that the game had been created
by a man who suffered from such intense mental illness didn’t make him pull
away. He addressed it. He talked about it comfortably. He
even acknowledged that he didn’t really understand it, but still showed an open mind
towards it. And his message at the end of the play through to those with
depression was the final blow. He was talking directly to us. Those
who were “insane”, “sick”, “twisted”. He
cared. He encouraged us to keep living. He was totally fine
thinking that people like me were watching his videos, and he wasn’t scared of
us. I remember that I started crying, but it wasn’t the same kind of
crying that I had been used to. It wasn’t filled with despair, terror,
hatred, or wishes of being dead. It was different. It was filled
with happiness, relief, and even hope.
I am still very sick.
It’s now been about six months since this episode started, and I still
have yet to pull out of it. I am making arrangements to check myself into
an inpatient facility as soon as I can figure out the financial situation.
But now, I have hope. I felt before that there was no purpose to
being alive, if I was such a screwup. Now, I know what I want more than
anything in the world. The joy, relief, and hope I felt from a silly man
on the internet giving a crap about those with depression is something I can’t
put into words. And not everyone is able to hear that.
I want to give people that
hope. I want to be the person that I wished would have been there for me
when I was being abused. I want to love people, even if they are sick.
I want to talk with anyone who is lonely and be their friend. I
want to be an older sibling for those who didn’t have anyone to protect them
from their parents. I want to be the mother figure to someone that I wasn’t able to have. I want to make people who can only feel sadness laugh
like nothing else can make them laugh. I want to care, I want to help, I
want to be there to tell anyone who needs to hear it that “you’re okay.
I’ve got your back.”
markiplier, if you read this (which
I know you won’t because this is insanely long), I want you to know something
important. What matters the most to me and others who struggle with
severe depression isn’t your popularity. It’s not your skill (or lack thereof in some cases)
of games. It’s not whether or not you upload a video on time. it’s
not whether your video is edited well or not. It’s not your
attractiveness, your charisma, or your talent.
What kept me alive was your
faith in me. In all of us.
Markiplier is someone I
deeply respect more than anyone else in my life. Not just because of the
personal connection I have to that play through, but because he is someone to
believe in. If there’s anyone who can change the world, it’s him. His
wisdom, leadership skills, and contagious passion are fueling a fire that is
catching quickly. And I believe, more strongly than I believe anything
else, Markiplier is going to change the world.