#( it is not for everyone and you shouldn't force it )

[madthetruemad]

EVERYONE LOVED ANAXAGORAS' WIFE. Especially Phainon and Mydei. Their eyes would track your movements anytime you were in their general vicinity. Phainon was always the first to strike up conversation with you. His charm and easy going smile was comfortable and disarming. You would find yourself happily chatting away with him hours on end. Mydei, on the other hand, would always be the first to come to your rescue. Be it with enemies who infiltrated the city, a merchant trying to pull a fast one on you, or a thug pulling you into an alley. Mydei was always there and you would always pay him back for his help by buying him any food he wants. But as soon as the food is bought he is already sharing some with you, casuing you to stay by his side longer than intended.

As for Anaxa, your husband who you just love to dote on, he enjoys watching these two flit about like fools as they try to win your affection that doesn't even exist for them. It was laughable. Something that shouldn't even be considered a threat, yet, a devoted husband does get tired of others trying to take what belongs to him.

So he decides to silence their antics with an effective solution that he knows will work.

Phainon, though initially surprised by your appearance was quick to jumpstart back into action as he smiled at you, his gaze shifting to your growing bump of a belly, "it feels like yesterday when we all were swinging into adulthood, but now it seems you and Anaxa are taking it a step further."

Phainon could feel his jaw clench as he forced the words out, with how your bump was already showing, you were probably already some weeks along in your pregnancy. It irked him at the thought of Anaxa touching you like that. It made his skin crawl.

You, all the while, were naive to Phainon's inner turmoil as you laid a hand over your stomach, your eyes filled with nothing but love and happiness, "i always wanted a small family of my own, so when Anaxa finally started talking about children a few months ago, I was overjoyed! I always thought he would be too busy for a family, so i was happy that we finally talked about it."

"Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?"

You hummed in thought, "i honestly don't know! But what I do know is that I will love him or her no matter what!"

Even though Phainon was good at masking his disdain towards your husband, Mydei was not. Anytime he looked at you, his nose would scrunch and he would find himself looking away. You wondered if you did something wrong. Oh, but Mydei would never blame you or the child you carry. His anger was solely on Anaxa.

"Are you alright, Mydei? You haven't been yourself," your voice was soft and it caused his heart to ache. He didn't like making you upset.

With his arms crossed over his chest, he eyes your stomach, "when are you due?"

He was finally talking and looking at you! It was a start!

"December."

He seemed to be deep in thought before he finally sighed. His arms falling to his sides as he looked you in the eye.

"I will ... make sure no one harms you during all of this."

You smiled, "thank you, Mydei."

You were glad that your friend was acting normal again. However..., Mydei was anything but normal on the inside. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but one thing was certain. Anaxa wouldn't be safe.

[vulqan]

[ID: a Twitter thread by @/Gummipie. it reads:

"i went to a woman's funeral. her husband gave a eulogy and spoke mostly about himself. i mean he started from his birth and spent a significant amount of time explaining his life and career before he met her. her pastor said she was the kindest, most helpful person he'd ever met.

her kids said she was the best most helpful loving mom. everybody said she never complained. she put everyone first. it was a virtue. she didn't take care of her, she devoted herself to church, husband and kids. they cried so much. an angel on earth! they'd miss her dearly.

i never met this lady. i sobbed. my husband thought i was going to join her in the ground when i bent down to give my rose and spoke to her. i told her i understood why her heart attacked her. she swallowed so many teeth!! a dozen people said she was the best woman on earth and i hadn't learned a thing about her personality except that she made it small. i heard about her service and she never complained. i don't even know if she was funny.

that's when i decided to stop putting everyone above me all the time. stop swallowing my teeth. because i refuse to let these people kill me and then get up at my funeral and talk about themselves. how i died for them but without saying it. i refuse.

if you hear someone praising you for "never complaining" please get mad. please take up space. this is your life, not a pageant. complain. even if you can only whisper "this hurts me". complain.

no one can help you if you won't say "this hurts". maybe you're crazy like me. maybe little "harmless" comments hurt. so what? say something. maybe they get mad and block you. GOOD! you have to find a life that does not hurt. you have to say something. nothing is too small.

if you think "other people wouldn't be so hurt by this" so you shouldn't speak up, you're wrong. you literally were forced (PUSHED OR PULLED) into life. you didn't ask for your sensitivity. there are people allergic TO WATER. should they not complain because it's atypical?

things hurt. hurt changes your brain. it practices the pain and GETS BETTER/ FASTER AT HURTING. you must find peace and practice THAT. the damage of pain is silent and invisible but it's one of the realest, most dangerous things we know."

end description.]

[kingkat12]

forever (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, mentions of blood, ANGST (SORRY IN ADVANCE)

summary: nothing will ever be the same again after you've find out what Roman truly is-- you can be sure of that now.

word count: 5,093

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

a/n: GOSH I'M BACK! 13 is the lucky number (not). this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but it's more than enough for this scene... I can't breathe omg. thank you to everyone that has helped me with brainstorming and clearing my mind about this scene, specifically @mentallyscreamingsincebirth who read about 7 different drafts (poor soul), and I'M SO SORRY. SO SO SORRY Y'ALL. ENJOY... tbh that's not the right word, so, good luck!!!

Loving Roman had consequences right from the start.

However, I never imagined it would lead to this. 

My hands trembled as I clutched the knife, though I couldn't tell if it was from fear or the sheer weight of the situation. Roman hadn't moved an inch since I'd pointed it at him, but the way he loomed in front of me made every second stretch unbearably long. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge-- my breath caught in my throat as he tilted his head, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable, something quiet.

Then, without warning, a slow exhale left his lips as though he was indifferent-- Roman's shoulders slackened, the tension bleeding from his frame as if this entire moment had bored him. And then, just like that, he put his tux jacket on the kitchen island before he turned away.

I flinched at the movement, but all Roman did was step toward the fridge, peeling it open with a lazy sort of ease. He bent down, rummaging through the shelves, shifting the milk aside like I wasn't still standing there, terrified.

I turned with him, still pointing the blade in his direction as my pulse threatened to rupture my ears-- this was the biggest mind-fuck of the century. This night was. My brows drew together as I dared to speak, confusion drowning my anxious words; "What are you doing?"

Roman shrugged. "I have a feeling this is gonna take a while, and I'm really fucking hungry. Do you know how many calories you burn from beating up assholes?" Another sigh followed--  he continued to speak into the fridge as he shuffled through the vegetables; "You're not wearing your dress."

It sounded like a casual remark, yet I knew it was loaded with the intent of getting me to explain myself. The longer I stayed quiet, the more I could hear my heart pound. "I changed,"

"Where?" 

"... Here?" 

Roman shook his head, remnants of a knowing smirk painting his lips-- it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think we should be starting this conversation off with more lies," 

His words were chilling. I struggled to find mine. I cleared my throat over and over as my hands got clammy around the knife I had yet to lower; "I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Come on," Roman huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up, reaching for the handle of the fridge. When he turned his head to meet my gaze, I felt my breathing knot itself in my chest-- I hated this feeling. I hated being scared of my boyfriend. I hated that I couldn't bring myself to put away the kitchen knife I was still pointing at him. Roman continued; "I've been waiting for you for about... what, fifteen minutes? You didn't change here, and those clothes aren't yours."

Fighting the urge to stay tongue-tied, I snapped; "And you shouldn't have broken into my house in the first place! That's crossing all fucking boundaries!--"

BOOM.

The fridge door slammed shut with a force that rattled the shelves.

I jolted. A sharp, pathetic squeak clawed up my throat before I could stop it. My pulse jumped, breath hitching-- fuck.

Roman had never looked more intimidating; "I see we're past talking about boundaries!" he hissed, glancing down at the knife in my trembling hands. His attempts at containing his anger were cracking.

"Fine," I bit back. "Let's talk about the important piece of information you so conveniently failed to tell me, then!"

Roman blinked. I knew him too well; I could see his mind racing behind those big, beautiful eyes. I shouldn't be looking into them. "The car crash?" he asked, attempting to soften his voice. Something told me he got hopeful that he had hit bingo about the subject, and that he could somehow salvage this; "I'll tell you everything you want, baby. No problem, okay? Where do you want me to start?--"

"Don't fuck with me, Roman!" One of my hands left the knife as my tremble subsided, and I steadied my stance. "Enough!" 

Roman's fists clenched, and his gaze pierced mine with rays of ice. It took him some time to let it sink in-- we were about to have this conversation, whether he wanted to or not. We were going to talk about what he was. Despite the horror of the situation, my body filled with a satisfaction unlike anything I had ever felt before; I had pieced it together. I had cornered him. I had caught the liar, and I had done it all by myself. 

However, the liar in question didn't want to relent so easily; "This is about Daniel, isn't it? The little shit who confessed he'd get off to snapping your neck in half?"

"It's... What?" My frustration possessed me as I gestured with the knife, exasperated. "No, Roman! It's not that, and you know it!"

Roman let out a quick, icy breath as his fists clenched and unclenched-- deny, deny, deny. "He had it coming," he breathed. "I don't get why you're holding a knife at me for giving that guy what he deserved!"

"That's not why I'm!--"

"You think I went too far?" Roman scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Deny, deny, deny. "You think I should've let him walk away after hurting you, is that it?"

This was beyond frustrating now. It was infuriating, actually. Roman's dismissal of the real topic of concern drove me into a state I hadn't been in before; it almost made my vision go red. Then, it took me a second to realize my vision was blurring because of more causes than one-- with tears pooling in my eyes, I watched as Roman continued his angry rant;

"I don't get you! Why the fuck are you pulling a knife on your boyfriend for protecting you?! I was the one who saved you, I was the one who made sure you got the revenge you deserved, and what do I get in return? That terrified look on your fucking face?!" 

Roman was yelling now. 

Yelling.

I kept telling myself he didn't mean it, that he was simply anxious to face the truth that I knew his biggest secret, but... now that I knew what he was, it only made me grip the knife harder. What if he suddenly pounced at me? What if he got so overcome by anger that he lunged my way out of pure instinct?

I flinched when Roman raised his hands, yet I let out a shaky breath of relief when they went to his hair, ripping at the tips of his brown locks in frustration; "I have done everything to protect you! I-- I messed him up, okay, but!--"

Enough. "Protect me?! You think this is protection?!"

The panic Roman had painted across his face for sympathy got wiped away the second I raised my voice too. His act wasn't working. His distractions weren't working. Nothing was. "It is," he hissed.

"No!" The tears that had welled in my eyes threatened to spill. "You should've left me alone the second you started feeling anything for me! That would've been protection, that would've mercy!" 

Roman closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp line of air-- "Don't say that," he breathed. "You're crossing the line."

"Crossing... the line?!" 

"You are," he continued, blindly gesturing at the knife. "Point your knives, call me whatever, say all the shit you want, but not that. What we have is damn near holy to me, so keep that out of your mouth."

I had half the mind to throw the knife at him. Enough was enough, I couldn't stand it anymore; "You're insane!" I yelled. "You're batshit crazy, and you're out of your fucking mind if you think that you were protecting me all this time! You've only put me in danger!"

Roman's eyes widened with offence. "I have not!--"

"You urged me to slice my hand in front of you, and you sucked my fucking blood that time you decided you wanted to blood-bind us or whatever the fuck those vials were for! How dare you put me in that situation when you know what you are?!"

Silence.

In the void of sound we had created, I could hear a light tapping against the windows-- it was raining. Outside, the grass was given the opportunity to grow. At this very moment, flowers all around were watered with new energy for life; yet here I was, being drained of all of mine.

Roman's face twitched with multiple emotions, unable to decide which one to settle for as he lowered his gaze. Had he ever prepared for this moment? I wondered if he had. I wondered whether he had ever laid in bed at night, riddled with guilt and the weight of the world, and whether he had ever thought about coming clean. Had he thought he could get away with it, that I would never find out? 

Finally, Roman opened his mouth; "I..." 

It didn't take long before it shut again.

A shaky breath escaped me when I realized my knuckles were going white around the knife. I was about to say something, maybe even dig deep into my soul to search for words of comfort; yet when Roman's eyes fully focused on mine again, I felt my whole world freeze over.

Roman's pupils widened, fixating on me as though I was prey, a big deer in the wilderness. He knew the act was up, that the game was over, and instead of facing it, he fixated on the one thing he felt he could still control. His words came out with a low growl; "You have something of mine,"

... What? 

He took a threatening step forward. 

My breath hitched; I readied my brain for possible combat. 

"The vial," Roman hissed. "Where is it?" 

Another step.

"It's mine. If this is how you want to do this, I want it back,"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Back-- Back off!--"

With Roman's next step, my body tensed up with the realization that he was speeding up--

It was now or never.

With a shriek, I tossed the knife in his direction out of pure fear, and ran out of the kitchen as my screams emptied my lungs. The pounding of my heart filled my ears as I heard the clashing of pots and pans, possibly the sound of Roman jumping over the kitchen island to get to me, and it only made me panic more.

He called out my name, a yell of rage, as I made it past the living room and into the hallway. 

I was running for my life. 

I was running for my life. 

A ragged scream tore from my throat as I snatched the nearest object, a flimsy umbrella, and flung it behind me without looking. It didn't matter. He'd dodge it. He'd always dodge it.

Tears burned down my face, blurring the steps ahead as I bolted up the stairs. My chest heaved, my legs burned, but I pushed-- pushed like my life depended on it, because it did.

I was going to die, wasn't I?

This was it.

But for a second, a stupid, desperate second, my brain tricked me; maybe I could make it? Maybe I could outrun him? Maybe, maybe I could get out of this alive?

I chanced a glance over my shoulder--

Roman wasn't there.

My heart stopped. Relief slammed into me so hard that my knees nearly buckled.

Too soon.

I saw it too late-- the flicker of movement at the edge of my vision.

Roman's hand, appearing at the top of the banister.

He hadn't run up the stairs. He'd jumped. From the first floor to the second in a single, monstrous leap.

A scream ripped from my throat as he vaulted over the railing, his body a blur, his weight crashing into me before I could even think to run.

My back hit the ground hard, but before I could even feel the pain, something else registered.

His hand. Between my head and the floor, cushioning the blow.

My breath stuttered, my body locked in pure terror as I fought, thrashed, pounded my fists against his chest-- but it was useless. He didn't budge.

My heartbeat was a deafening drumbeat of panic; I wasn't getting away. I wasn't getting away.

I wasn't getting away.

Then, Roman grabbed my hands and slammed them to the floor, pinning me down with a groan. His voice was sharp, teetering on the edge of control; "Stop it!" he yelled. "Stop fighting! I'm not going to hurt you!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears still coming. I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he continued. "Since when do you throw knives at me?!" 

I kept trying to kick him off. It didn't work. Nothing did.

Roman's chest heaved above mine, his grip tightening before he seemed to catch himself-- his fingers loosened just slightly. His voice dropped, a thread of disbelief woven through the frustration. "You're really afraid of me, aren't you?"

I let out a quiet sob, unable to speak.

Roman's breath shook, his head tilting as if seeing me for the first time. He exhaled through his nose, but his next words wavered; "After all this time... you really think I could hurt you?"

Something in his voice made me pause. He wasn't just angry anymore, he was... wounded. 

"After everything?" he breathed. His fingers curled around my wrists, but this time, they trembled.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

That silence, that awful, confirming silence, broke him. Roman's expression crumpled as he clutched my wrists like a lifeline, his breath uneven. The anger drained from him in an instant, replaced by something desperate, raw, broken. 

"You're breaking my heart," he breathed.

The words shattered between us.

I stilled, my own heartbeat stammering.

In the muted space of my lack of words, Roman let out a quiet, shuddering laugh, his green eyes glossing over. "Letha told you, didn't she?" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper; "You're wearing her clothes, and you kinda smell like her expensive incense for crazy people. Don't tell me she performed some ritual on you?"

I swallowed hard. Telling him the truth felt dangerous; I needed to protect my last ally, didn't I? "No," I whispered. "No rituals. There was no Letha. I figured it out by myself... I-- I read a book." At least there was some truth to what I was saying.

Roman uttered something between a scoff and a choked breath, shaking his head. His lips curled, but there was no humor in it. "All by yourself?" he muttered. "That's my girl."

Acid filled my next words, overcome by emotion; "You left me no choice,"

"I didn't?"

"You didn't,"

"That's nonsense," Roman mumbled. "We could've avoided all of this. We could've had a few good years with you in the dark."

His face was too hard to read. His expressive eyes were so cold and hard with his conviction-- he really believed that, didn't he? "Years?" I whispered. "With me... in the dark?"

"Yeah," Breathless. He was breathless. "A decade, maybe."

It didn't take me long to piece it together. It would take a decade until he looked considerably younger than me. Would he have let me in on his secret then? 

"That wouldn't have been enough," I said, choking back my tears. "I wanted a whole life with you, Roman."

His next inhale was shaky, yet quick-- finally, he could be sure that he had lost. "So you... you really know, now?"

I knew.

I knew. 

And I could barely speak it; "That you're a upir? Yeah,"

Roman had yet to let me go. "Fuck..." he breathed, nodding to himself. "There goes that."

There it goes.

All the stolen glances, all the kisses, all the joy, all the love.

It was draining the life out of the both of us. "I'm not going to ask you to forgive me," Roman tried. "But can I at least... please have the vial?" His voice broke at the end of his sentence, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

My words came out with a tremble; "I-- I threw it away. It was affecting you horribly, and I don't want that for you... I don't want you to be in pain, Roman, despite everything you are,"

He sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body locking up as if my words had just stabbed into him. "I'll have nothing of you, then?" His voice was barely there, so fragile it made my chest ache. "When you leave me, I'll... I'll have nothing?"

I blinked. When I leave?

Was he... planning to let me go?

"You're breaking my heart," Roman echoed, his shoulders trembling as he let go of my wrists to cradle my face in his hands. 

The touch nearly made me flinch. Had I not been so intent on my survival, I would've pushed him away with a shudder. I didn't want him touching me, not now that I knew who and what he was, yet I endured it for the sake of my life. 

Roman's grip faltered as he watched me fail to hide my fear, and his fingers trailed to my cheeks as he took in the look on my face.

"I can never trust you again," I whispered. "Never hold you, never kiss you... Not now that I know what you are."

Roman's fingers slowly brushed over my cheek, shaking. "But... it was supposed to be you and me," he breathed. "Forever."

Forever.

The word sent a sharp ache through my ribs.

Roman's eyes shut, his face twisting with something too deep to name. "I know I should've stayed away..." A shuddering inhale. "I should've just kept on being miserable." 

I choked down a sob; "Rome," I whispered. What else was there to say?

The nickname hit him like a bullet. Roman's voice was rough when he dared to speak; "I wasn't supposed to feel like this for anyone... That was my one rule," He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw was tight like he was forcing the words out. "I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how it happened, but I woke up one day and realized that I-- fuck!" 

Overcome by his emotions, Roman let out a sharp, bitter laugh; "I didn't want this, okay? I didn't-- God, I didn't fucking want to feel anything for you at all! I didn't want us to ever happen in the first place!"

The words should've hurt. They were meant to hurt, why else would Roman say them? But the way he said them, so wrecked, so lost, made my heart ache instead.

Roman exhaled hard, tilting his head back like he was trying to keep it together. "You have no idea how much I fought feeling anything for you... You have no idea how many times I told myself that it was nothing, that it would go away, and that you were just!--" He stopped, his breath hitching. "That you were just some meaningless girl, something temporary, a distraction at most, and not!--"

He didn't say it.

He couldn't. 

Not yet.

"And I--" Roman stopped, like the next part physically hurt to say. "I should've told you about this, I should've told you who I am. You deserved that much, and I tried, I swear! I-- I wanted to. But every time I got close,  every time I thought, this is it, tell the fucking girl, be a man, I'd look at you and-- and I got scared."

Finally, I could be sure the world was going under. The notorious Roman Godfrey was scared, and even worse, admitting to it. 

"Because if I told you, you'd leave!" he said, voice raw with pain. "And I couldn't-- I can't!--"  He was shattering right before my eyes, shattering into a million pieces. "Fuck, you have to understand! I didn't keep it from you to hurt you, I kept it from you because I'd lose everything!"

Roman swallowed hard, and in the smallest, quietest voice, he whispered; "I never, ever wanted to lose you. Nothing else matters like this, I-- I love you too much to function,"

Silence.

Thick. Suffocating.

Roman Godfrey... loved me?

He loved me.

Roman loved me.

And here he was, looking down at me with those big, pleading, green eyes like it would fix everything. Like it would fix the fact that he could kill me within a second. Like it would fix his blood-thirst. 

"Please," he breathed, heartbroken with my lack of response. "You're not saying anything. Please say something."

All the times I had sensed something was wrong and convinced myself I was crazy rushed through my mind, clouding my shock at Roman's confession. It was torturous how he had let me remain in the dark for so long. Was that love, or was that selfishness?

I knew the answer.

"That's not love, Roman," I whispered. "That's fear."

His face fell. "No," he tried. "Don't-- Don't say that, it's not--"

"You say you didn't tell me because you didn't want to lose me, but what do you think this is? What do you think is happening right now?" My voice wavered, heat rushing to my face. "You talk about love like it's this big, tragic thing you had no control over, but you chose to lie to me above all else! You chose to put me in danger every time you were ever near me!"

I pushed against his chest, my body trembling with the force of my anger; Roman could've easily stayed put, could've easily kept me pinned to the ground, yet he relented, his eyes wide with hurt as he allowed me to push him away and sit up.

"You let me walk around and doubt myself for months, Roman! You let me drive myself crazy, trying to understand what the hell was wrong with me and why I was even doubting you, when this whole time-- this whole time, you were lying to my face!"

Roman ran a hand through his hair, looking wrecked. "What did you want me to do?!--"

"Anything but this, you fucking asshole!" I shoved myself off the floor, feeling my heart pound. "And you don't get to look at me like that, like I've wrecked your life! You don't get to act like this is just something sad that happened to us when this could've been prevented all along if you'd just stayed the fuck away!"

"That's not fair!" Roman yelled through the tears welling in his eyes. "You were basically throwing yourself at me!--"

"And you shouldn't have let me!" 

"Come on!" Desperate, Roman reached for me, but I jerked away so fast that I nearly tripped.

"Don't!" My voice cracked, but it didn't matter. "Don't you fucking touch me, how dare you!" Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to tell him that I loved him too, that we could find a way to make it work, that I would always love him no matter what... but Letha's warnings ran through my head.

She had told me he was dangerous. She told me about his urges, how he would forever be hungry for blood, and that I risked my life every minute I was near him. Letha explained how Roman could hear the heartbeats of everyone within a certain radius, and that every thump reminded him of how hungry he was.

But now, as I looked into his hurt eyes, I could only see...

Pain.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't hurt him any longer, as Letha said I needed to do-- I had to move. Roman's voice was a faint echo as I started taking shaky steps toward my bedroom; there was no chance I'd outrun him if he wanted to chase me again, so I walked. It didn't take long before I heard him scrambling up from the floor as well, following me into my room. 

I could feel him behind me when I stepped inside.

The door clicked shut.

My heart pounded, and I knew he could hear it. I knew.

"Baby--"

"Don’t," I breathed, stopping in the middle of the room before I turned around to face him. Even at this moment, he was beautiful. He was breathtaking in his shirt, even though his previously neat hairstyle had fallen apart with all the running and struggling. How was this fair?

I heard the shift in Roman's breathing, and how he tried to swallow the desperation in his throat. "You’re scared of me,”

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes,”

"You don’t have to be," he whispered. "I would never--"

"I do,"

A sharp, broken exhale. He took a step closer, daring to get in my personal space, and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Roman froze.

Silence. Again.

And then--

He dropped to his knees.

I gasped. His hands clutched the fabric of my shirt, Letha's shirt, his forehead pressing against my stomach like he was praying to me. His breath was shaky, his fingers curling and uncurling as if he didn’t know whether to hold me or let me go.

"Please," His voice was wrecked, hoarse with unshed tears. "Please don’t do this."

I stood frozen, my hands shaking at my sides. I wanted to cradle him, wanted to sink down to the floor and hold him, but I couldn't move.

Roman pressed a kiss to my stomach, then another. Then my ribs. Then my hip. A desperate, reverent kind of touch. Not to seduce, not to possess-- but to beg.

"I love you," His voice cracked, his lips ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. "I love you so much, I can’t-- fuck, I can’t lose you!--"

"Roman--"

His body shuddered against mine, his fingers twitching where they clung to me, like if he just held on tightly enough, none of this would be real. "I can control it," he pleaded. "I swear, I swear, baby, please!--"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I wanted to believe him so bad, wanted to relent, yet Letha's voice echoed in my head; "He will hurt you,"

"I won’t hurt you," he choked out, contradicting my every thought. "I’d rather die."

My breath hitched as my hands trembled, longing to reach for him. I pressed my lips together, trying to force down the sob rising in my throat; "If you don't want to hurt me, you-- you have to leave. You have to let me go," 

Roman's fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as he shook his head, a frantic, shattered movement. No, no, no. "I don’t want to," His voice was raw. "Don’t make me. Please don't-- please don't make me."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. "Roman..."

He knew he had lost. It was over. There was nothing more to say. Slowly, painfully, he pulled back, looking up at me with wide, devastated eyes, silent tears streaking his face. He pressed one last, trembling kiss to my hip.

And then--

Roman let go.

He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs. Stumbled back, one step, two.

Heavy. 

Everything was, until I felt the relief of his eyes leaving mine. It felt like the weight of his attention lifted a ton from my shoulders. But the momentary solace quickly left me when I watched Roman's gaze shift--

He stilled.

The change was instant. His entire body locked up so tight it was like something inside him had snapped. His breath came shallow, his shoulders rising and falling in sharp, stuttered movements. His fingers flexed and curled like they didn’t know what to do.

I followed his line of sight with my breath catching in my chest, and my stomach dropped when I saw what he was looking at.

The book.

That fucking book. 

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

It lay there on my nightstand, its pages still open, marked by the frantic creases my fingers had pressed into them over and over again. There was no hiding it now.

With a sharp turn, I glanced back at Roman with huge eyes, wondering whether anger would take over his body and trigger him to chew me to death. But alas-- nothing.

Roman didn’t move.

He just stared. His lips parted slightly, his lashes fluttering as he blinked through the tears in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. I could see it, the way the pieces started clicking into place in his mind, how the dots connected in a way that destroyed him.

Finally, we both knew it was over. 

Then--

Defeated, Roman turned away.

It was sudden, almost violent, the way he ripped himself away. He staggered toward my window, one hand swiping at his face as he smeared his tears into his skin, his breath a sharp, hollow sound. His entire body shook like he was barely keeping himself together, like the second he stepped outside, he would completely break apart.

Roman reached for the window.

Shoved it open.

But just for a second, he hesitated.

For a second.

For me.

He waited.

He was begging me to say something, to stop him, to tell him he didn’t have to go.

But I didn’t. I couldn't.

So, Roman climbed through the window I had snuck him in through countless times. We had shared countless kisses there; kisses of passion, kisses of joy, kisses goodbye, kisses hello. But now, there would be no more. 

With one final look back, his green eyes seared into mine with a look I would never forget.

And then--

Roman Godfrey was gone. 

I stood there for longer than I'd ever admit to anyone, staring at the empty space he'd left behind, waiting for him to come back. I could still smell him-- the deep cologne and the faint, metallic tinge of blood clinging to my shirt where he'd been pressed against me just minutes ago. It was Daniel's blood, a trace of what had happened earlier tonight. I couldn't believe I had been happy just a few hours ago. A few hours was all it took to unravel everything. 

It was like he had left a ghost of himself behind--- something half-alive, something that would never quite let go of me.

Nothing but the sound of my own breathing filled up the room. It sounded too loud, too shaky. My fingers drifted into my pocket without thinking, curling around the cold glass buried there.

The vials clinked together as I rolled them between my fingers-- his blood, my blood, trapped inside two fragile little prisons, always touching but never quite meeting.

I brought them to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut— I could never get rid of them. Never.

If I crushed them right now, if I just closed my fist and shattered them into a thousand tiny shards, maybe this whole nightmare would shatter with them? Maybe I would wake up and he would still be here, begging me not to send him away? Maybe I could've made a different choice? Maybe he would wrap his arms around me again and swear that he would never hurt me, and maybe this time I would believe him?

But I didn't crush them-- I couldn't.

Instead, I pressed the glass harder against my lips until I tasted the salt of my tears on the rim.

At least in this form, we could be together.

Forever.

(a/n: ... sorry not sorry. this was heartbreaking to write, believe me. but this isn't the last chapter, that will be the next, and y'all are in for a RIDE!! thank you so so much for reading this, aaaand just quick psa, I will not be compensating anyone for their possible need for an ambulance or any funeral services cause I'm obv evil:))) JK MWAH🥹🌸 THANK YOUUU<333)

here are all the chapters!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

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@taintandviolent @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @amidthechaos

[a-d-nox]

how can you glow up: your 7h - relationships and balance within them

still following my hypothesis of how you can glow up using your venus persona? it's time to take a closer look at your 7h!

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

7h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 7h mars, and/or mars aspecting 7h ruler

setting and maintaining healthy boundaries

avoid asserting dominance: being direct is fine, but ensure your heard and understood shouldn't mean overpowering your partner’s needs.

balance independence with being a team: i know you value your freedom, but healthy relationships require mutual consideration and everyone's favorite word *compromise*.

don’t rush into commitment: often this energy can led towards being impulsive - take your time to evaluate whether any relationship you enter aligns with your long-term needs.

recognize when conflict is unnecessary: not every disagreement has to be a fight - learn to pick your battles wisely.

how to improve communication

express your desires without aggression: your passion is your strength, but delivery matters; approach every conversation with clarity, not force.

practice active listening (and patience): "aries goes first" - not necessarily... let your partner fully express themselves before you respond; avoid interrupting out of impatience.

be mindful of reactive tendencies: slow down before responding to avoid saying things in the heat of the moment that you might come to regret.

embrace vulnerability: not every conversation has to be a debate - sharing emotions openly builds deeper connections.

how to attract balanced partnerships

seek partners who match your energy but also ground you: a mix of excitement and stability creates the healthiest dynamic.

avoid overly passive partners: you need someone who can keep up with you, not someone who lets you full on take control of every situation.

seek relationships built on mutual passion and respect: you thrive in partnerships where both people are equally invested and independent.

be open to different love styles: just because someone expresses love differently than you do doesn’t mean they are less devoted.

how to become more confident in relationships

own your assertiveness: you know what you want, and that’s powerful - your confidence will come when you embrace this without fearing this power will ruin your relationships (that being said balance assertiveness with control (don't succumb to being overly controlling within your relationships)).

let go of the need to prove yourself: you don’t need to be “the best” in/at relationships; love isn’t a competition.

trust that the right person won’t see your fire as “too much”: your intensity will be attractive when matched with the right person.

learn to identify what you deserve

relationships where you feel free yet supported: you need both your autonomy and a deep connection.

a partner who values your drive, not one who competes with you or tries to put you down: someone who encourages your ambitions rather than challenges your authority.

excitement without unnecessary chaos/fights/argument: love can be passionate and spontaneous without being dramatic or unstable.

a partner who respects your strength but also sees your softer side and knows when to support you: emotional security is just as important as adventure.

7h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°), 7h mercury, and/or mercury aspecting 7h ruler

setting and maintaining healthy boundaries

avoid superficial connections: it’s likely very easy for you to keep things light, but deeper emotions/conversations are necessary for real intimacy.

balance social time with personal time: you thrive on interaction, but ensure you’re not overextending yourself in relationships.

set limits: make sure both you and your partner respect each other.

be clear about your expectations: ambiguity can lead to misunderstandings, so express your needs openly and directly.

how to improve communication

be mindful of overanalyzing: not every conversation needs to be dissected.

avoid deflecting with humor or distraction: playfulness is one thing, but true communication requires depth and honesty. so focus and try to read the room.

practice active listening: immerse yourself fully instead of thinking about your response.

express your emotions clearly: love isn’t just about words - allow yourself to feel your emotions, not just explain them.

how to attract balanced partnerships

look for partners who stimulate your mind but ground you: lntellectual chemistry is key for you, but emotional security is equally important.

avoid partners who are too rigid or overly possessive: you need freedom given this airy influence to explore ideas and connections without feeling confined.

choose relationships that allow for variety and spontaneity: routine-driven partner may not suit you long term.

look for someone who communicates: these people's relationships thrive when both partners are curious, expressive, and engaged.

how to become more confident in relationships

own your adaptability: your ability to see different perspectives makes you a dynamic and engaging partner - you are anything but boring. know that.

trust that depth doesn’t mean loss of autonomy: real intimacy can exist alongside independence and exploration. just because you feel locked in doesn't mean you aren't your own person.

commitment doesn’t equal monotony: long-term relationships can still be exciting and full of surprises especially if you are with the right person.

learn to identify what you deserve

communication and mental connection: deep conversations and shared curiosity keep your love alive - there is nothing wrong with that.

freedom to explore: you deserve space to express yourself without feeling boxed in.

someone who understands and embraces your duality: you deserve a partner who appreciates both your playful and serious sides.

7h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°), 7h moon, and/or moon aspecting 7h ruler

setting and maintaining healthy boundaries

recognize emotional enmeshment: your relationships may feel deeply personal, but ensure you’re not absorbing your partner’s emotions as your own.

avoid mood-based decisions: your emotional status influences how you approach relationships, so take time/space before making major commitments.

separate past wounds from present situations: your attachment style will be shaped by past experiences, so aim to heal (or learn coping techniques for) any unresolved emotional patterns prior to relationships if possible.

how to improve communication

express emotions without fear: emotions are strength; don’t suppress them to "keep the peace".

avoid passive-aggressive tendencies: if something bothers you, say so instead of expecting your partner to guess at your feelings.

communicate beyond emotions: all feelings are valid, however, logical discussions are also necessary for resolving conflicts effectively.

recognize emotional triggers: be mindful of how past wounds and insecurities influence your reactions. make your partner aware of these potential triggers.

how to attract balanced partnerships

seek emotionally mature partners: you need someone who understands deep emotional connections and at the same time doesn’t rely on you for all their emotional needs.

look for nurturing but independent partners: a healthy relationship supports emotional depth while allowing for both partners to maintain their own identities.

how to become more confident in relationships

trust your intuition: your emotional intelligence helps you read people well - don’t second-guess yourself. "a spade is a spade".

embrace vulnerability without fearing rejection: the right person will appreciate your emotional openness rather than see it as weakness.

learn to self-soothe rather than seeking constant reassurance: trust yourself to navigate tough emotions independently.

learn to identify what you deserve

someone who respects and values emotional depth: you need someone who embraces emotional intimacy, not someone who avoids it.

a safe space to express feelings without judgment: emotional security should be number one in your relationships.

7h aquarius (12°, 24°), 7h uranus, and/or uranus aspecting 7h ruler

setting and maintaining healthy boundaries

allow for freedom without creating distance: you value independence, but emotional closeness is just as important.

avoid impulsive decisions: the urge to seek (or create it if you get too bored) excitement may lead to relationship instability, so take time before making major decisions.

define what “commitment” means to you: you definition may be unconventional to say the least, so ensure you and your partner are on the same page.

balance personal space with connection: too much distance can create instability in relationships, so maintain open communication at all times if you can't be in each other's space.

how to improve communication

be clear about your need for independence: your partner should understand that love for you doesn’t mean constant togetherness.

avoid being emotionally detached: deep emotional discussions are essential for intimacy - i know i know that's likely tough to swallow for logic loving aquarius.

recognize when you’re being obstinate just because: not every disagreement needs to be a challenge for authority...

how to attract balanced partnerships

seek partners who enjoy change and excitement: you need a dynamic relationship that allow room for growth and new experiences.

avoid overly controlling or possessive partners: you need both respect and autonomy - make that very clear.

look for intellectual and energetic chemistry: mental stimulation and shared passions are essential to holding your interest.

how to become more confident in relationships

own your uniqueness: your unconventional approach to relationships is a strength, not a flaw. love is changing in today's world and you are well suited to step into this new romantic era.

stability doesn’t mean boredom: you can have a committed, fulfilling relationship without sacrificing your excitement for life.

find confidence in flexibility: your adaptability allows you to thrive in various relationship dynamics without fear.

learn to identify what you deserve

someone who appreciates your unpredictability rather attempts to tame you: you deserve someone who enjoys change and spontaneity - they will complement you well.

excitement without chaos: you deserve a love that is thrilling but also emotionally secure.

mutual respect in an unconventional relationship dynamic: whether it’s non-traditional roles, unique ways of expressing love, or alternative commitments (open relationships, polyamory, long-distance, etc.), you need a partner who understands and/or is willing to try your approach.

7h ruler in 1h

setting and maintaining healthy boundaries

avoid losing yourself in relationships: your identity can easily get deeply tied to partnerships, so make sure you maintain your individuality and fight against codependency.

set clear expectations from the start: your relationships will impact your self-image; make suee they align with your values and needs.

balance personal desires with relationship dynamics: avoid over-prioritizing your partner’s needs at the expense of your own.

how to improve communication

be direct about your needs: relationships influence your sense of self so have clear and honest communication to prevent misunderstandings.

self-reflect before reacting: your responses in relationships can be immediate and personal; take time and space to process emotions.

make sure conversations are 50/50: since you likely take the lead, make sure you are allowing space for your partner’s thoughts and perspective.

speak from personal experience, don't make assumptions: avoid projecting your thoughts and beliefs in the relationship; focus on understanding both yourself and them.

how to attract balanced partnerships

look for partners who complement you rather than define you: a good partner will enhance your identity, not "wash you out".

avoid overly dominant or passive partners: you thrive in relationships where you both stand strong.

seek someone who values your independence: a partner who respects you as an individual creates a more overall fulfilling relationship dynamic.

how to become more confident in relationships

embrace self-sufficiency: you don’t need a relationship to feel whole; your strength lies in your own identity. love with come when you aren't looking for it.

recognize that relationships reflect your personal growth: how you engage with others mirrors your self-awareness and growth.

by empowered by love, not dependent on it: partnerships should support your autonomy rather than diminish it.

learn to identify what you deserve

you should be valued and respected: you need a partnership that acknowledges and respects your individuality.

partners who inspire self-growth and confidence: relationships should encourage your personal development rather than limits it.

love is a choice, not a chore: you deserve a partnership where both you and them choose one another, not out of need but out of genuine connection.

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button! 

return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

© a-d-nox 2025 all rights reserved

[sacredsorceress]

Hey queen! I love the way you write fluff! But help a girl out and send my love to worst!wolverine Logan. Poor man is just tired and I just wanna give his some stability in his life 😮‍💨💕

-🦑

my secret is that worst!wolverine is actually my favourite but i cannot write wade for the life of me so i haven't gotten to any fics for worst!wolvie yet. but god do i love thinking about giving logan the stability and domesticity he deserves...

⋆｡°Roommate!Worst!Wolverine⋆｡°

It all started with an attempted break-in of your apartment.

Afterwards, you ran (well, really, you took an Uber. After a close call such as that you were feeling uneasy about traversing the city at night on your own) to Wade's apartment.

A rapping against the door forced Logan from his alcohol-induced reverie. An old movie- black and white and far too reliant on gimmicks for Logan's enjoyment- had continued to play through his stupor. He felt around for the remote.

Checking his watch- a cheap thing he had bought at the local convenience store- the time blinked back at him. 3:42.

The rapping on the door escalated to a pounding.

Logan threw off the thin blanket that covered his knees. His forgotten beer bottle slipped from his lap, onto the floor and shattered.

"Ah shit."

He pushed himself up from the couch with a groan. With his stature, Logan crossed the apartment in five strides, throwing open the door as you lifted your fist to continue.

"Oh." You said surprised, dropping your hand to your side. "Logan. Hi. I was looking for Wade."

Logan, who knew Wade had disappeared for the evening with Vanessa, clicked his tongue.

"It's a bit late." He said gruffly.

"Yeah, well, tell that to the guy who just broke into my apartment."

You slipped past Logan and into the kitchen, the realization of what had just happened to you- what could have happened- settling in.

Locking the door behind you both, Logan followed you with his brows furrowed.

"What?"

Logan blinked a few times, sobering up at your last sentence. Someone broke in?

"Some crazy guy broke into my apartment." You explained, hugging yourself. "I scared him off with a knife, thank god, but what would have happened if I hadn't woken up? I didn't know what to do, Logan, I was so scared I ran right here."

In the past few weeks of living on Earth-10005, Logan considered himself well-behaved for the lack of violence he had found himself in. Now, however, he felt a familiar red, hot rage.

Despite the few moments you and Logan had shared in the short amount of time, you had left your imprint on him.

You were uncharacteristically kind to him: far more gentle and friendly than he felt he deserved. Everyone smiled when you walked into a room and it wasn't simply because of the fresh baked goods you carried in your hands; the fresh aroma of vanilla and cinnamon trailing behind you as you went. You were warm, funny, soft: attributes Logan had nearly forgotten existed behind the cold, hard walls he had built.

To think that someone had ill intent with you made him not only sick, but furious. Enraged. In the brief moments where his mind would run ahead of him, imagining the soft touch your skin on his and how your lips would feel against his rough cheek, he had felt twisted- perverted. Logan didn't deserve your love and any fantasy his mind conjured for him felt like an affront to your generosity.

And all he had wanted to do was treat you right. Who did this sick fuck think he was?

"My friends are right," you wrung your hands. "I shouldn't be living alone. It's not safe."

Your eyes glanced over to the scratchy couch on the far side of the living room. A discarded blanket and flattened pillow from who knows how long ago laid amongst its cushions.

"Wait, Logan?"

"Huh?" Logan asked, pulling himself from his thought. It only occurred to him then that he hadn't responded in a while.

"Would you... want to move in with me?" You asked, fingers toying with the frayed edge of your jacket, unable to meet his eyes. "I know that you don't exactly have the best living arrangement here and it would just... make me sleep easier knowing someone else was there. I'd feel safer with you around."

I'd feel safer with you around.

Now, that was something Logan hadn't heard in a while.

He stood a little straighter, bolstered by your confidence in him.

"I don't know, bub." Logan said, leaning against the cabinets. "You sure you wanna guy like me around?"

A dry laugh escaped your throat.

"I'd prefer to have a guy like you around." You said. "What do you say?"

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

With only a backpack full of his belongings and a note to Wade in chicken scratch left on the counter, Logan moved in the following afternoon.

"And this..." you said, opening the door to the last room. "Is your room. I know it's not much, but I got you some new sheets and a phone charger-"

The room, quaint but equipped with a queen size bed, two matching nightstands, a window, and a desk was more than Logan had had even in how own universe. At least since-

"This is nice n' all," Logan said, shaking his head. "But I can't accept this, sweetheart. The couch'll do just fine."

Sweetheart.

You shook your head.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Logan." You said, inviting him into the space. "This is your room. Besides, I like my couch too much to give it up for you."

You smiled at the last sentence, informing Logan that it was part joke (but also part not).

"I'm going to go finish dinner." You said. "And before you even say 'don't worry about me': save it. I've seen how empty Wade's fridge is and I'm not going to have you not eat, okay? Let me do this for you."

Logan brushed his hand through his hair and chuckled.

"Alright then."

With a triumphant nod you left the room.

Logan tossed his backpack onto the bed and took in the room around him. The sheets that had been neatly tucked into the bed were a crisp white and held the distinct scent of laundry detergent from its wash earlier that day. Draped across the comforter was a soft blanket- hues of browns and greens that stood stark against the pure white benath.

Was this hand-knit?

Brushing his fingers against the cloth, he turned and glanced at the desk where a journal caught his eye.

A yellow sticky note sat atop.

Welcome home, Logan

Logan's calloused fingertip ran over the script, feeling where your pen marked the paper with the loops, swirls, and divots of your penmanship... for him.

The journal beneath was leather bound and carried weight in his hands. Logan flipped through the pages considering your words earlier- how you had set up this room (on such short notice)- with Logan in mind.

He almost felt overwhelmed by how you had done all this in consideration of him- for him. Whatever had made you do it, he wasn't sure but you had looked at this journal and thought of him. It almost made him want to pick up a pen and start writing then and there.

Logan decided that even if you had painted the room bright yellow he'd have made yellow his favourite colour because however you thought of him- and clearly it was very highly- it was the type of man he'd strive to be.

In the few minutes since you had stepped from the room, Logan had heard the distant clatter of pots, pans, and dishes echoing from the kitchen. Now, the chaos had settled down, and instead his ears perked at the familiar, scratchy sound of a vinyl beginning to play.

"Logan!" You called. "Dinner's ready!"

Dropping the book onto the desk, he allowed the sweet sound of music and the mouth-watering aroma of dinner to lead the way. In the dining room, the lights had been dimmed, the table was set as a large dish sat in the middle of the table.

Bathed in the warm light of the lamps surrounding you, Logan swore you shone like his own personal guardian angel. A part of him wanted to fall to his knees before you and relinquish himself to your care. Instead, he shook his head.

"Fuck, that smells good."

Taking off your oven mitts, you smiled.

"Well what are you waiting for?" You asked, pulling out your seat. "Let's eat."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Anywho this was so fun and so cute to write!! If you'd like to see more roommate!worst!wolverine PLEASE let me know because I have lots of thoughts.

feel free to come chat about any of your favourite mcu characters in the ask box!!

[reinbouxsworld]

Hey so like sorry if you're the wrong person to say this to but I love Jamil's character so much and it makes me so mad that the fandom takes Kalim's side in his ob when they're so much more sympathetic to everyone else's ob situation. Like all the ob's are caused by trauma so no olympics but Jamil was Kalim's slave??? He was literally fighting to stop being his slave? To the son of a rich merchant family that could decide the fate of his whole family?? The stakes were so fucking high. Kalim not knowing says everything about his relative privilege and nothing about his innocence. Kalim's saving grace was his willingness to change when he learned, but that slave-relationship was multigenerational and Jamil had no guarantee it would happen if he "asked for his freedom". I think the fandom has some real inner reckoning to consider about why Kalim crying is more upsetting than Jamil's (and his family's) life.

OKAY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS ONE.

﹙𝑡𝑤𝑠𝑡.﹚ ─ WHY JAMIL TRAUMA IS (BUT SHOULDN'T BE) DOWNPLAYED

﹙ or why i support jamil viper rights and wrongs﹚

──────────────────────────────────────

٬٬ I think the most obvious reason is that Kalim, by being a very kind and often naïve person, wins people over quickly (myself included). He’s sweet, kind, and honest. He just wants to have a good time with his friends—he’s easy to be around and talk to. More often than not, a "happy person" is easier to forgive than someone you’re not as close to.

But what do I mean by that?

Jamil is not used to being himself. He always has to manage and calculate his every step to ensure he doesn’t overshadow Kalim’s presence, even though, by merit, he could be in the spotlight (which, at this point, I see as an unspoken Viper family tradition). And it’s not just when Kalim is around — even when Jamil is alone, he’s still under pressure to maintain his facade. We do see glimpses of him sometimes, especially after the overblot, where he's a little bit more acidic, smug and sincere, but the reality is that his entire life has been shaped around a forced role. The most frustrating part of his story is that when Jamil got to NRC, he had a brief moment of freedom—only for it to be taken away again by Kalim’s overwhelming presence. And the worst part? He wasn’t even chosen to be there. Kalim literally bought his way into NRC just to be with Jamil. I don’t think people fully realize how hopeless that must have made an already frustrated teenager feel. He had no choice but to start over, once again masking himself under Kalim’s shadow.

I won’t go into the nuances of his initial actions leading up to the overblot, but they clearly show his frustrations, especially when he hypnotized Kalim to do his own work as a housewarden.

And then, right after all the resentment and fight, we get Kalim crying over his friend. Of course, as you said, Kalim’s willingness to change is a big reason why the fandom takes his side. It makes sense— he genuinely wants to be a good friend. But the frustrating part is that people still reduce Jamil to just "the scheming servant" while ignoring everything else we see in the chapter. Kalim’s willingness to change is important, but it doesn’t undo the years of pressure, resentment, and lack of autonomy Jamil has endured. At the end of the day, Kalim can change, but Jamil? He’s still bound by the same expectations, the same role, the same system.

If you don’t look deeper into each chapter, it’s easy to sum up an overblot with a simple explanation: "Riddle is acting like his mom," "Leona is throwing a tantrum because he’s not king," and so on. I think we are often drawn more to the breaking point than to the underlying cause of it. But in Jamil’s case, the most obvious problem is also the one people tend to overlook: Jamil was — and, by definition, still is —Kalim’s servant. More than that, all Vipers still are.

The reason Jamil seems "fine" is because, unlike the others, he can’t change the very thing that made him feel this way in the first place. To be clear, I’m not downplaying any of the other boys' trauma—I’m speaking from a storytelling and borderline objective perspective. Most of the other characters could change their circumstances if they wanted to (again, i'm not saying it is easy or simple). Many of them have the resources and/or support networks to do so. But Jamil doesn’t. Even after his overblot, while Kalim gets to grow and change, Jamil is still stuck playing the same role. He may have a little more space to breathe, but his reality remains the same—his life is still controlled by the Al-Asim family.

────────

[dindjarindiaries]

Eyes Off

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: “Are you jealous?” “No, I’m not!” “Oh, you really are jealous! Wait, why would you be jealous?” / “Look at me.” / A kiss of jealousy

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

"Of course that's what you're wearing."

Crosshair's unimpressed drawl drew your attention from where you were fastening and concealing your weapons. Considering everyone else had already changed into their civvies, it had to be Hunter that Crosshair was addressing, and one look at the sergeant proved why.

Whereas the rest of the team opted to keep themselves covered in a way that wasn't too unlike their Republic-issued blacks, Hunter didn't shy away from letting his skin breathe. His hands and arms were wrapped up to his elbows, but there was a sizable stretch of skin and muscle leading up to the light-colored sleeveless tunic he wore.

Tech had always ensured that the temperature of the Marauder's interior was regulated, but something had to have been off, because you could've sworn it had just gotten at least ten times hotter.

You were still staring, and Force willing not ogling, as Hunter raised his hands defensively at Crosshair. "What?"

Crosshair scoffed as he shouldered on his pack. He lifted a single eyebrow and flicked his toothpick at his brother. It bounced unceremoniously off one of Hunter's tensed biceps.

The sergeant just smirked in response and shrugged. "I earned 'em." His tone was playful as he lifted his own pack and secured it over his shoulders. "I think I'm entitled to showing 'em off for once."

And thank the Force you did, you would have said if you didn't already have a durasteel lock on your own jaw.

"Ha-ha, yeah!" Wrecker clapped his brother on the shoulder. Hunter rolled it back in response, but nevertheless widened his sly smile as he looked up at Wrecker. "I think ya' look great, Sarge." Wrecker then turned his attention on you, giving your shoulder a nudge with his own. "Right, Sunny?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, but only for a quick moment. Subtlety had never been Wrecker's specialty, and you should have remembered that when you had stayed at 79's until last call with him and spilled out all your secrets. That's what you got for indulging in truth serum for once.

You schooled your expression into nonchalance the best you could and nodded. "Yeah." You lifted your blaster and gave it one last unnecessary check. "It definitely suits you."

Hunter huffed. "I don't even want to know what you mean by that." You snorted in amusement before Hunter refocused and addressed the gathered squad. "We shouldn't be here long, especially since we're dividing and conquering. Tech, Wrecker, you're clear on your objective?"

Tech looked up from his datapad and nodded as he adjusted his goggles. "That is correct."

Wrecker gestured over to Tech with his thumb. "What he said."

Hunter nodded at them both. "Great." He turned to his youngest brother. "Crosshair?"

Crosshair's brow rose once again. "Do you really have to ask?"

Hunter participated in their typical impromptu staring contest for a few heartbeats before he let out a sigh. "I'm taking that as a yes." His attention then shifted to you, and you fought a hard-won battle to not take a visible breath as his dark eyes found yours. "Sunny, you're with me." Hunter motioned for the squad to follow as he stepped towards the open hatch. "Let's move out."

You kept your attention on the way ahead as the squad walked out of the hangar together and through the throngs of sentients that crowded the planet's streets. Eventually, as you and Hunter got closer to your own destination, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair peeled off to attend to their own objectives. You tried not to tense as you kept yourself close to Hunter's side.

"Hmm." Hunter's hum got your attention, and you looked over to see his brow creased the way it often did when he was reaching out with his senses. "It's gonna be crowded in there." He gave you a glance and nodded. "Stay close. We might have to push our way through."

You nodded and obeyed, getting close enough for one of his arms to brush against yours. It was hard to focus with the warmth of his skin meeting yours in endless succession, but you threw your mindset into the mission as the two of you stepped inside the cantina.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, you could feel the eyes on you—only they weren't on you specifically. They were on him.

You could have accredited the lingering stares to the fact that Hunter presented much more like a regular clone than the others, and he may have been getting some undue attention for that, but you could identify the kind of looks he was getting all too well. Gazes flickered up and down, heads did double takes, and some people even giggled with their peers.

You should have found it amusing. The others certainly would have if they were there. Instead, it filled you with a pool of a sickly feeling almost like dread, coiling in your stomach and twisting into an uncomfortable knot.

It was an unmistakable wave of intense jealousy, and you weren't strong enough to fight it.

You were drawing yourself even closer to Hunter's side before you could stop it, your eyes cautiously scanning your surroundings as you did so. Another strong flare of jealousy's angry green haze saw you taking his arm and wrapping your hands around it, securing you to his side as you smiled in satisfaction at the way many of the hungry scares awkwardly flickered away from the two of you.

But your actions didn't go unnoticed by him. Hunter stopped pushing through the crowd long enough to turn his head and look at you with his full attention. "You okay?"

You looked up at him with innocent eyes, and his gaze gestured to the grasp you still had on his arm. You offered him a quick nod. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just..." You glanced around the room again. "A little overwhelmed."

Hunter's warm eyes studied yours as he softened. "I get it. We won't be here long, though, like I said before." He nodded towards the bar. "C'mon. We're almost there."

You went forward with him, selfishly indulging in the feeling of his warmth—and the arm you still had a tight grasp on. You were pleased to note it was just as strong and solid as it had looked.

Once Hunter had successfully maneuvered your way to the bar and had made enough room for the two of you there, you reluctantly let go of his arm and simply stood at his side. Your arms were still brushing at the close proximity, your focus was still going to any wandering eyes that caught sight of him.

You should have been focused on the objective and helping Hunter get information out of the bartender, but you had other priorities. Like Hunter had insinuated before, he had worn what he was wearing for a reason. Did that mean he wanted one of these people to approach him?

The thought alone made you sick. It shouldn't have, because you weren't his and he wasn't yours, but that didn't matter.

"You sure you're okay?"

Hunter's low voice of concern brought your attention back to him. You glanced over to see him furrowing his brow at you.

"You seem on edge."

You shrugged and looked past the sergeant, seeing someone just behind him staring holes through his back. You fought back a growl and forced yourself to answer normally. "I'm just seeing a lot of eyes on you." You blinked and quickly rushed to correct yourself. "Us."

But the damage had already been done. One of Hunter's eyebrows shot up in suspicion as he continued to look at you. "That's nothing new, especially not for me."

You circled your jaw. "Yeah, but..." Your gaze flickered over him before you could stop it. "It's different this time."

Hunter looked ahead, his expression taut as he pondered something, and then you saw his dark eyes light up with realization. You winced quietly before he even had the chance to speak.

"Wait." He looked over at you again, the small pieces of hair that escaped his bandana bouncing on his forehead as the corners of his lips rose in a small smile. "Are you jealous?"

You forced out a scoff and began to flounder. "No, I’m not!" You looked down, your gaze searching. "I-I'm just..."

It was too late. You were too flustered to think of a viable excuse, and your ears and face were burning so hot that you were half-convinced Hunter's senses had already picked up on the temperature change.

"Oh, you really are jealous." Hunter said the words with a chuckle, and his bare shoulder playfully nudged yours.

You fought off the sudden waves of embarrassment valiantly and looked anywhere but at him. He was clearly still joking, and you were stuck between playing it off again or at least wanting him to put the pieces together. This one-sided thing you had going on was getting too exhausting.

That made his next words even less of a surprise than they probably should have been. "Wait... why would you be jealous?"

Your gaze flickered over to meet Hunter's, but you looked away from him just as quickly. Your stare focused on your fingers as they picked at the skin around your nails. This was not a conversation you wanted to have here, especially not when he was looking like that.

"Hey." Hunter's voice was achingly soft now as he set a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Look at me."

You relented, your guilty gaze finding his—which was full of comfort and, surprisingly, understanding. Your brow knit together, though the knot in your stomach began to loosen when Hunter's hand suddenly moved from your shoulder to the one you had closest to him on the bar. His stare lowered and watched as his wrapped hand wove his fingers through yours and gave your own hand a soft squeeze.

Hunter looked at you again, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "You have nothing to worry about."

All you could do was blink at him, any words you could have possibly wanted to say dying on your tongue. You were trying to read him and make sure you weren't misinterpreting the signals he was sending you. Was he saying that because he had requited feelings, or just to assure you that he wasn't looking for anything from anyone?

Hunter huffed and gave his head a fond shake. "You've been noticing the eyes on me, and I..." He paused, his jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes at something behind you. "Have been tracking the eyes on you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. You must have been so wrapped up in your jealousy towards Hunter that you failed to notice how people had been looking at you, too. Your civvies did hug your body in a way your typical tactical gear didn't...

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You had no choice but to ask. You couldn't live with the anticipation anymore.

Hunter nodded and looked at your entwined hands again. He gave yours another squeeze. "The feeling's mutual."

You couldn't keep the smile from growing on your lips. Honestly, you should have known better, but reason and feelings never paired well together, anyway. All you could do was let out a soft laugh as you also looked down at your hands.

"What do you think?"

When Hunter spoke again, you looked up, suddenly realizing how much closer the two of you had gotten. Hunter clocked the minimized distance, too, his warm gaze flickering to your lips before he went on.

"Should we give them something else to stare at?"

You hummed, pretending to have to consider the offer even as your traitorous body already started to lean closer. "I think that's a good plan, Sarge."

Hunter chuckled, though the warmth that sound brought you was nothing compared to the feeling of his lips on yours.

You inhaled one another like it was your first full breath of oxygen, with Hunter's free hand catching the side of your face and jaw to keep you locked in place. Meanwhile, your free hand rose to his bicep, anchoring yourself to him as each breath passed between you and each tease of his tongue threatened to make your knees buckle underneath you. It was utterly dizzying, and it made you completely forget about everything and everyone else around you, for better or for worse.

When you parted, Hunter was quick to clock the sight of your hand on his arm. His lips gave way to a sly smile, and your brow shot up as you mused upon his words from earlier.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" You shook your head at him in fondness. "I was the person you were 'showing 'em off' for."

Hunter shrugged, playing innocent for now. "Maybe, maybe not."

You scoffed. "Do we even have a real objective here?"

"Well, we did." He gave your hand another squeeze. "But we just completed it."

You gave your eyes a roll. "Force, Hunter..."

"The others' objectives are real, though."

You couldn't help laughing at that. Leave it to the sergeant of the Bad Batch to use an actual mission as a way to somehow get you both to finally break the ice. "And the bartender?" You nodded towards the nearest one. "You just made that up?"

"Not really." Hunter's smirk remained as he caught the bartender's eye. "I do need to talk to them... to get us some drinks."

You blinked at him before you laughed even harder. You shifted your hand onto the arm closest to you and rested your head against his bare shoulder the best you could manage, relishing in the wave of content that rolled over you.

It was an unconventional way for your mutual feelings to surface, but that was just who Hunter was, and you couldn't hide the way you loved it.

[greentrickster]

Important Message To Artists Emotionally and/or Mentally Suffering due to the Current State of the Art Industry and Generative AI

Everyone telling you that you have missed out, are nonessential, that you shouldn't be starting now, that you're a bad person for feeling upset by this? They are straight-up lying to your face. Art is not an option, or an opinion, or a phase, or, least of all, a dying medium. Art is a necessity, a drive, a passion. We have been creating art since before we were us. Back when all there was available were dirty caves and weird-coloured mud, the harshest living conditions imaginable, and mega-fauna.

Yet still, there were artists.

Back then, before my kind were born, those of pen and ink and typewriters, there were artists. People who looked at the world around them, at the world behind their eyes, and joined the two together through funny coloured mud on a cave wall. They built scaffolding to reach high enough. They used the natural curve of the stone to add movement and shape to their lines. They traced tens upon hundreds of hands upon stone in such a powerful sign of existence that we still look upon it today with awe, with curiosity, with the need to study and learn and marvel.

Tens of thousands of years ago, your kind was born, and your line has held true ever since. Tens of thousands of years, there have been artists, because for tens of thousands of years there have always been those that need to create, and they have made it happen. Because for tens of thousands of years, we have felt, felt and watched and dreamed so strongly that the only way to survive was to let it loose through our fingertips and into the world. And in doing so they allowed the world behind and before their eyelids to be seen, allowed others to see it and realize that they are also seen, because they are not alone.

Because there is at least one other who sees and feels as they do, and thus their place in the world has become that much realer, that much more valued, because they know they are not alone.

Because they are not alone.

Because you are not alone.

Because you did not start at the worst time. There is no worst time to start, because you will always be needed, always be necessary, always be so very dangerous to those in power because those who oppress do not destroy your work or your kindred because you are powerless, because you are worthless. They want you to believe that, they so desperately want you to believe that, because if you do not believe yourself worthless and powerless and terrible, then you might realize the true fragility of their power, that your work has them so afraid.

For if you are weak, why do they fight so strongly against you?

If your protests are unreasonable, why do they shout so loudly to drown them out?

If you are easily replaceable, why do they struggle so hard to do just that?

If what you do is without value, why do they seek to replace you at all?

How feeble, how tragic, such people must be, that they can only scream to the wind of your uselessness, of your replacability. That they fear so greatly, they would rather not try at all than place a single pen to paper in an attempt that might fail.

Tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of years, your kind has walked this earth, have left your marks, have stolen our breath. And now, in this world as we live in it, your kind has found community as never before, support and belief in your own value as never before, and, by the gods above, those that would silence you, lessen you, steal your courage and still your hands, they are right to fear. Because tens of thousands of years.

Tens

Of thousands

Of years.

Such legacy.

Such momentum.

How can it be stopped?

So they must silence you, don't you see?

They must steal your will, your worth, they must! For, if they don't, tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of years.

Such legacy.

Such momentum.

If they do not force you to stop yourselves, then how can they hope

To be anything other

Than

Crushed?

So go.

Look at the photos.

See the walls of stone marked with colourful mud. With charcoal from the hearth fire.

Look at it.

Look.

They're looking back at you.

Those who came before you.

The first of your kind.

And they are not afraid for you. As you need not be afraid for yourself.

Because they know

As those that would silence you also know

That the hands that painted the caverns

Took down

Mammoths

And also

Tyrants.

Tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of your kind who have come before.

Tens of thousands of years and of your kind who will come after you.

For in all that time, all that history, all that has come before, there is not a one who has survived its flow better or in ways that mattered quite so much as

Artists.

You are powerful.

You are deserving.

And you will always be necessary.

I promise.

[jonathanbyersphd]

And when the overwhelming power of Jonathan's love saves Will again then what?

[fromtheseventhhell]

I ignore about 95% of the conversations surrounding Arya having killed people because, outside of Arya stans, people refuse to include the context of the very violent circumstances she experiences + her trauma which influences her actions. She wasn't destined to be a killer and her being forced on the run, having to survive during a war (at times on her own), having to witness countless people being tortured and murdered, being enslaved as a prisoner of war, having to witness the deaths of her family, etc. are all hugely important factors. Not to mention the times when her life is literally on the line and she has to make tough decisions to ensure her survival. The only time her trauma is acknowledged is when people are using it to prove she's "too far gone", otherwise it's essays on how she hasn't suffered that much. It's so boring how people ignore well-developed characters just to reduce them to one or two aspects of their story. And this treatment is only for certain characters; let someone mention Sansa being part of the plot to poison Sweetrobin and all of a sudden, people can understand being forced to make questionable decisions under difficult circumstances.

[anarchismnow]

Things costing money is a scam!

People need resources to live healthy lives! That doesn't mean those resources can be price gouged. That doesn't mean people should have to pay more.

People shouldn't need to raise the prices of their goods so they can eat well! Nobody should have to deal with less while others make more - while more stuff is out there.

We have the resources to help everyone, but instead, we're making mediocre things, so some people have to suffer. It isn't right.

You shouldn't have to pay for clean water. For your food, electricity, house! They are basic human needs. Nobody should have to pay for what they need!

[owlrageousjones]

Is Blanche Devereaux a Landlord?

Random thought of the day: Is Blanche Devereaux of the Golden Girls a Landlord? And if she is, does she deserve the guillotine?

Obviously, in the strictest sense, she is a landlord. She owns accomodation, and she derives income from renting that accomodation out. That's a landlord.

But in saying that, Blanche lives in that same house - she rents it out to the other women because she has space and she's a widow with no dependents anymore. She had a large house to raise children and live with her husband, but her children have moved out and her husband's moved on (to the afterlife).

The absolutely moral thing to do would be to either let her roommates stay with her for free (because housing is a human right) OR to downsize.

And it's easy to say that's what she should do, but the absolutely moral thing for most of us to do is to sell most of our belongings and give the proceeds to charity but that's the kind of behaviour you'd expect from a saint, not some random person. I think we generally agree that there's a gradient between the extreme ends here.

And although it's kind of a meme, landlords do provide a service - as someone who has owned their own home with a mortgage, owning a home can be annoying and stressful. Owning your own home makes you feel like you put down an anchor, and when you want to move, you end up asking yourself if it's worth raising that anchor. For some people, it's better to have the freedom and flexibility that renting can provide.

(Also technically you don't have the stress of wondering how you're going to pay for repairs because that's the landlord's responsibility, but you know, that also puts you at the mercy of the landlord.)

In some ways, I think there wouldn't necessarily be anything wrong with having landlords if those landlords weren't private investors whose desire is profit - if the government owned my house, and I just 'rented' it from them by paying taxes, and then I would be able to move at some point if I chose, that'd be a neat solution.

(But then it also raises all sorts of questions such as: should I, a single bachelor with no dependents, be allowed to have a house with more than one bedroom? Under the capitalist system, I could have as big a house as my pockets could afford, even if that is a terrible allocation of space and housing.)

Looping back to Blanche, neither Rose nor Dorothy seem like they might've been in a position to buy a house - Rose sold her previous home, so maybe she would have the funds, but she was also moving from a small town to Miami, so the houses would probably cost a lot more (but she could probably afford a condo or small apartment). There's also the fact that living in a shared accomodation with each other was almost definitely good for them, socially wise.

I know living on my own was kind of sad in some ways, even if it did mean I didn't have to wear clothes in the summer.

So is Blanche bourgeouise? I mean... probably, but if the Revolution came, would she be up against the wall?

[mixmangosmangoverse]

Hello I'm randomly thinking about Healin Good PreCure for the first time in years and looking back at how wildly people misunderstood the point and expected every other season to follow a plot point that's very specific to it

[volivolition]

any updates about your fics?? :0

(pls don’t feel pressured to respond to this if you’re busy!!)

!! hello anon :3!! <333

ive been writing a specific part for Unstoppable Force, where volition and harry talking to each other. and oh holy shit this fucking conversation is like!!! YEAH it's in character and i know what to write, but it hurts so fucking bad to actually write it, help me hgkjg

while the volition and electrochemistry thing is the main plot, on the side there's also kim who just transferred precincts, and harry who has a crush on him. and the kim/harry parallels to volition/echem... "i'm putting up a front of reserved responsibility and i have to repress any emotion that could compromise my commitment to my duties." immovable object and "i feel like the worst kind of mess and i want to get better but i don't know if i deserve to be helped or loved because im a mess." unstoppable force :']

but VOLITION IS STILL A SKILL, SO HE'S ADVISING HARRY WITH THIS PERSPECTIVE. so when harry says "kim shouldn't like me, huh?" then volition (who is projecting himself and echem onto kim and harry's relationship) swallows and says, "you're right. kim shouldn't like you, and if he does, he feels like he's making a mistake. he probably wants - more than anything in the world - to stop feeling that way, and for you to stop feeling that way about him."

and harry (who is taking this literally because he doesn't know what's happening between voli and echem) sadly agrees "yeah. liking me will probably get in the way of his work. he shouldn't want to love me, that just... wouldn't make sense for him. im only making him worse."

BOYS. ITS A FEEDBACK LOOP. ITS AN ECHO CHAMBER. YOU'RE ONLY FUELING EACH OTHER'S ISSUES. STOP STOP STOP HGJKG

[daybreakrising]

something i wanna talk about bc it's been on my mind for a while (largely due to the plotting & discussion that's been going on recently & the meta i wrote on the subject) - poly ships

now i will always encourage people to explore poly ships (poly > shitty love triangles always) if that's something they think their muse(s) would be seeking, but i want to stress that poly relationships are not for everyone, and that's okay

i have two poly muses on my roster (so far), both with very healthy outlooks - and by that i mean, they are 100% comfortable with that dynamic. there's no insecurity, no jealousy, no negative feelings at all towards the idea of them or their partner(s) being involved with other people, and that's how it should be. if you want to explore a poly dynamic with your muse, and you find that said muse feels insecure or jealous at the prospect of their partner/s also being involved with someone else... then that muse is probably not suited to that dynamic.

for example, with my two poly muses: i have b.eisht, who has fully committed herself to o.sial for eternity, will always and forever return to him, but they both seek other partners (and though it hasn't happened yet, i'm sure they'd be happy to share the same one too) and actively encourage each other to do so. there isn't an ounce of jealousy in b.eisht's bones (though she will be a menace to his partners because it's fun). and then there is y.ingxing, who gives a maximum total of 0 fucks about who his partners are involved with (if anyone) as long as they still hold his hand too.

now i'm not saying there can't be tension at any point - all relationships have tension. it's realistic, it's normal. relationships aren't always soft and fluffy and perfect every single second of every single day. partners argue, they clash, they fight. they have differing opinions. they make mistakes. and i'm sure that in poly dynamics that still applies, because that's normal. but if it becomes a case of your muse wanting multiple partners, but doesn't want those partners to get involved (either with each other, or with someone outside that relationship) because of how it makes them feel, then that's putting forward a double standard that is unfair and unhealthy, particularly if they are the one initiating that dynamic in the first place, and that can get very uncomfortable for all involved.

there is nothing wrong with holding up a hand and saying: actually, this isn't working for my muse after all, can we discuss this and/or put a stop to it and come up with something else. poly is great in theory but, as i said, isn't for everyone. for example, my y.ingxing is absolutely comfortable in a polycule, but blade is not. i would never force blade into a dynamic that i know he wouldn't be comfortable in, because it's not fair for all sides.

i just. i just want people to write healthy poly ships and not fall into the temptation of drama, bc poly ships (and people) already get judged harshly and unfairly and the rpc doesn't need to add to that

[soaps-mohawk]

Is it bad that I don’t want to give birth? Like, I told some of my friends and family that I don’t want to give birth and they told me that I’d change my mind and I told them I wouldn’t and they get mad at me. I told them that I’d adopt kids instead to give them a home and living family but they say that doesn’t matter and count because they won’t be biological.

That's not bad at all!! I know a lot of people that feel the same way. Hell, I feel the same way. I don't want to give birth and I'm very against having children. I've known that pretty much my whole life since I was old enough to conceptualize children and parenthood (very young as a woman growing up in America), and I was always told I'd change my mind someday.

Well, it's been about 20 years and I haven't changed my mind at all. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it. The constant societal pressure that every generation has gone through of "you have to have children otherwise your life is meaningless" has very much been challenged as of late with plenty of people realizing your life doesn't end as soon as you're old enough to have children. A lot of those people pushing that narrative shouldn't have had kids in the first place. The world would probably be a lot better off if people that didn't want kids but were pressured into it by society just hadn't given into that pressure.

There's plenty of neglected, abandoned children, and children in foster care that deserve love and support. So yeah, if you don't want to give birth, then there's nothing to feel bad about. You've made that decision and anyone that tries to tell you otherwise is only recycling the same societal pressures that probably made them have children they didn't want.

And if anyone says adopted or fostered children don't count, then kindly say fuck them and don't speak to them again. Same with people that say IVF or children born of surrogates. Just because you didn't give birth to your child no matter the reason, that doesn't make them "not your child." Hell I know there's people out there that say C-sections aren't "giving birth" because it wasn't natural.

Yeah, fuck those people and do what you want. It's your body, it's your life and they can either get over it or get out of your life 🤷