#I have abandonment and rejection issues so this hit hard

[ten-of-imps]

Ten rants about someone they've met who were so authentic they forgot they live on earth and has to be considerate about others

While leaving a conversation when it stops being enjoyable and comfortable is an admirable trait to have, and one I need need to add to my skills and habits, being so focused on yourself, on the other hand, is not. It's time to stop thinking you're the shit, telling fcking heavy stuff to someone you barely know, sitting in your distant Moon thinking how authentic you are, how you know who you are and what you like (not even gonna mention how you dont even bother asking the other person) and that's what the other person has to know about you, pretending that you did so much self growth people just left you because they couldn't handle the new you. No darling, they left because you became more annoying than before. No darling, you're not authentic, you're selfish and you are in this conversation for yourself, so someone else would bring more pleasure in your life. I think you want to catch someone who would somehow care about you the same amount you do, without you having to do any work. That's not how it works

The way people use authentic as a means to let the world spin around themselves is fascinating. I haven't yet seen it taken that far, although I've seen people do it with other concepts. And I am so angry because there's so much I want to say to them, and tell them how fcking nasty it is what they're doing. But from their reaction to me saying how I feel around a certain topic I see they don't care and don't really see nuance that much, or care about taking time to see someone else's perspective. So there's no point. And I'm angry, because it was me who had to run first after that first day. I had to leave first. And I didn't. Why is it that I will try to listen to other people, but I ignore my own voice?

I really didn't think it will end this meh for me, and I thought I will entertain this and see where in the actual hell this will end. And we're deep guys, or maybe im naive and we were just past the first gates. I knew we were deep when life advice started. '' No no no i see people as good and just tired maybe, you should too, this helped me''. Wait did I asked you? Did I started a debate where I saw you taking my points seriously so you expect me to do the same? No? Thought so.

Authenticity means shit if you don't know how to listen to others and always think they are the problem and you're oh so deep and emotionally mature (the irony in this sentence). Ohmygod im so frustrated right now I'm going to explode!

Fucking trust your gut, and if its telling you this won't take long to start shiting knives, it's not worth it.

Believe in yourself and leave the damn alone. Leave the conversation, especially if they say so many already left. THERE WERE REASONS AND THEY ARE NOT SEEING IT!!! Which means they have no self doubt. They think they are right about everything, which is just crazy. They might be fine, but if you sense something's off, IT'S NOT WORTH IT!

[creedslove]

JOEL'S EX WIFE WANTING HIM BACK - HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: hi besties!!! Just a small little idea I got while I was watching some good old female rivalry soap opera drama over breakfast ❤️

Warnings: Sarah is a teen here ❤️

• when you got together with Joel, Sarah was already 12, her mom had been gone since she was a baby and though neither of them had any problems about talking about what happened, it wasn't a frequent subject, even if they treated it with naturally, they didn't like talking about it and it was completely understandable, after all, Joel had been abandoned with a weeks old baby and that baby had to grow up without her mother around

• so you always simply decided to pretend she never really existed in the first place, and technically, in your life, she never really did it, because from the moment you began dating Joel, he wasn't her ex-husband anymore, but instead, he was your boyfriend, and Sarah wasn't really her daughter, but your stepdaughter and you both had learned how to love and enjoy each other's company

• you were leading a happy life with the Millers, being part of their household and falling into the same routine as they did, as you spent longer at their place than at your own, until it didn't make any sense for you to keep paying rent, after all, you and Joel were very much together and in love and the natural course of your relationship would be of course, getting married or something like that

• you were happy with your little family, Sarah's issues regarding her mom seemed to be filled up pretty good by you once you joined the family, as she finally had someone she could talk to about boys and other girl stuff. She also really approved yours and Joel's relationship, always commenting on how happy you made her dad and how nice it was to have a more family like routine

• things were good and happy and you couldn't wish for anything more than that, you were as pleased as you could be, and you were pretty sure Joel was the man of your dreams, there was no way you could love someone as much as you loved him and so was the story of how the Millers became a very happy family

• and that was why it shocked the fourth of you - because Tommy was hella shocked as well - when Sarah's mom, Angela, decided to get in touch with Joel; she had found him on Facebook and messaged him, much to his shock, he'd done the same with Sarah, just like that, texting the daughter she'd abandoned as if she was just an old pal saying hello after losing touch for years

• at first, the two of them decided to ignore it, not sure how to act or how to even respond to it, but after a couple of days more in which Angela kept insisting on texting, more like begging Joel for a chance to talk, he decided to talk to his daughter and get to a conclusion together and after considering a lot together, they decided they would answer to her and see what she wanted

• and of course Angela sent quite a few sob sad texts saying how hard things were for her, how much she'd missed her family and mostly her daughter and how she regretted leaving. Joel wasn't quite convinced with that, quite the opposite, he was still bitter and angry at everything that went on, but he could tell Angela's words somehow messed up with Sarah's feelings, after all, she was a reject baby by her mom and at some level, she needed her approval in any way

• so Joel and Sarah agreed to meet up with Angela again, something small, at a coffee shop where they could all sit down and talk things through so they could see how things went between them, you'd also decided not to show up, it was such an intimate moment, you didn't belong in that scenario and you also had no reasons to be suspicious of Joel, you loved and trusted him and he trusted and loved you back, there was no reason to worry about anything at all

• you were genuinely happy to know Sarah had warmed up for her mom and the two of them hit off, having a lot in common and deciding to spend more time together, going on dinners, lunches and movie sessions together; it seemed Angela's presence was a benefit for them, and it was, you liked to see Sarah so happy about her return, it only became a problem when Angela started to show up more and more often at Joel's home

• it was your home too, and as much as you didn't want to be selfish or annoying, you had to admit it bothered you A LOT she was all the time around, at first she started with smaller things, such as visiting you all on Sunday afternoon, or bringing up a dessert, which of course, had to be Joel's favorite and kept gushing about the times they were still married; Angela was a pretty woman, you couldn't deny that, and the fact she seemed so willing to be nice and pleasant around her ex-husband

• and that imposition of her presence into your house and your family was beginning to bother you even more; suddenly, Sarah didn't want to go to the mall with you anymore, instead, she wanted to go with her mom. She didn't want to bake cookies with you anymore because your cookies had that sugar thing in the bottom so she liked her mom's better and as much as you tried understanding Sarah needed and had all the right to enjoy her mom's company and presence, it still hurt you, because you missed Sarah, and yet, it felt as if you weren't important to her anymore

• Seeing the shifts in your dynamics with Sarah, Joel tried to be understanding and even offered himself to talk to her, but you dismissed the idea, it was embarrassing enough you were feeling jealous, you didn't need Joel to get into the middle of that, but it still made you upset when Sarah decided to go to the movies with her mom to watch the newest Ghostbusters movie you two had agreed on going together

• and just as Angela stole Sarah from you, she was more than willing to steal Joel as well: she wanted him, he was even more handsome, his business became successful and he lived comfortably and now Sarah wasn't an annoying baby anymore, it was fun to be around her and she wanted her family back

• so to you, things started going sour when you decided to stop by Joel's business to bring him lunch; you'd prepared him a pretty good lunchbox and you were very excited to see his reaction, however, when you got to his small office, you found him and Angela eating a foot long sub, as it was kind of an inside joke between them from when they were young

"oh shit baby, I had no idea you'd bring me lunch, if I knew it..."

• Joel said wiping his mouth with a napkin as he had sauce on his beard like an idiotic child would and it made your blood boil, Angela simply smirked at you and you knew exactly what she was doing, your gut feeling was right all along, she was a filthy bitch

"it's fine Joel, it's just a sandwich, it's not like you're cheating"

• you didn't know exactly why you said that, it was the first time in your life you had ever said that towards Joel because it had never even crossed your mind there might be a possibility of it happening, but once you said those sour words, an awkward silence, a think tension in the room spread and you felt extremely uncomfortable to be there

"I'm sorry, you can give the lunchbox to Tommy in case he hasn't had lunch if you want, that way the food won't go to waste"

• you told Joel and turned to Angela, you didn't want to hide how much you didn't like the fact she snuck into his office to bring him lunch like a devoted wife

"you know, it's an odd choice to bring your ex-husband lunch instead of your daughter, I'm sure Sarah is starving right now..."

• in the evening, Joel felt very bad about what had happened, he hadn't done anything wrong, but at the same time it was wrong because even if it was just a sandwich, it wasn't about the sandwich but rather who had brought it to him, he knew it had hurt your feelings and he wanted to make it up to you, so he arrived home, using all his charms, his puppy eyes, his sweet talking and his soft neck kisses to convince you to go out with him; he was going to take you out for dinner: at a restaurant, not a bar for beer and burgers, but an actual meal

• you enjoyed your time with him, appreciating his effort to make something nice for you, so you grabbed a table, ordered meals and enjoyed each other's companies, as Joel held your hand and talked about his day, telling you how much he'd missed you and how gorgeous you were, dinner was going smoothly and what happened during lunch time had almost faded from your mind, when you heard someone clearing their throat

"oh hey... Enjoying some romantic dinner? That's a good place, right? Joel used to bring me here every so often, money was very short back then, but he always made an effort"

• Angela gave the two of you a bright smile, loving every single ounce of anger that clearly went through your face, what the fuck was that disgusting woman doing there? Why did she have to ruin your date night like that? It made your blood boiling, Joel immediately sensed the tension and tried coming up with something to say, but Angela just shrugged

"I came over just to grab myself some dinner, excuse me and enjoy your evening"

• she faked sympathy and blew Joel a kiss, knowing damn well the whole evening was already ruined for you, which made her pretty good about herself

• once you got home, you decided to have a heartfelt conversation with Joel, tell him every single thing that was bothering you, after all, communication had always been a big deal for you and it was important for you to open up and be straightforward about the matter, and he agreed with you, he said Angela was crossing the boundary and he assured you he was gonna talk to her

• so during the next few days, things were alright again between you and your sweet Joel; you were still very much in love and Sarah had been so busy with her tests at school, you didn't even hear of Angela's name and you'd be lying if you said you weren't happy about it, it was a relief she wasn't around and you even suggested Joel to make barbecue on Saturday, you'd have an extra shift but then you could enjoy the weekend with your family

• he gladly accepted it and you spent the rest of your week quite excited for it, you liked his barbecue, it was such a dad trait he had and you wanted to spend some time in bed with him too, once you arrived from work, you smiled as you saw Tommy's truck and you could smell the delicious scent of food, as you got off your own car, you went straight to the backyard, smiling from ear to ear

• but it didn't last long, your smile died when you spotted Angela; she was wearing a short summer dress and laughed happily at something Joel said, it must've been so funny because Sarah was laughing too. Angela was holding a bowl of egg salad and the moment she saw you, her own smile died, as if she was the one who had her day ruined by an intruder in her family, and not the other way around

• you frowned as Sarah sighed at seeing you, it didn't take a rocket science genius to see she was disappointed in seeing you there, as if you had got in the way between her mom and dad, you stared at Joel, your eyes filling up with angry tears as he immediately walked to you, holding you by the waist

"baby..."

"I'm going to the bathroom to wash my face and when I come back I don't wanna see this woman here, I've had enough, I don't care if she's your ex or Sarah's mom, she clearly wants to take my place and sometimes I feel like she has already..."

"don't say that, baby girl, that's not true"

"so get rid of her Joel"

• you left to the bathroom so you could freshen up and clear up your mind; hoping she would be gone by then, you didn't want to see her at all, so once you stepped into the kitchen, you were ready to start your weekend, with the exception of the scene before your eyes: Angela's lips on Joel's

• you felt as if you lost the ground from under your feet, and even if Joel shoved her away from him and began apologizing one hundred times, you'd had enough; Angela got what she wanted: you out of the way

• you ignored everything Joel said, as you blinked your tears and shook your head, leaving the house, the house that used to be your home, but now you weren't so sure; maybe all you did all that time was fill up the absence of Angela, and now, that Joel and Sarah had the original one, they didn't need you anymore

• that was only one out of many thoughts that crossed your mind, you didn't want to believe that, you loved Joel and Sarah and you wanted to continue thinking they also love you, but your heart was broken and Joel Miller was to blame 💔

____

[farshootergotme]

Now that I have the confidence to send you asks, fully expect me to bug you periodically from here on out

Anyways- do you think Dick qualifies as a scapegoat? Cause I 100% think he's a scapegoat. People always try to shove the 'golden child' role onto Dick, and it always confused me cause like. He doesn't fit it at all if you actually look into what a golden child is.

Dick is definitely one of the scapegoats of the batfamily (Jason being the other) and it makes me sad that people always label him a golden child when he's the exact opposite. Seriously- he's hit, beaten, unfairly blamed, lashed out at, not told about important things (Jason or being replaced, Jason dying, Jason's funeral, probably other things, i wouldn't be surprised), etc. Definition of a scapegoat to me.

It's also why I hesitate to label him the 'favorite' even when the comics try to say otherwise. Mostly because... favorite children aren't really treated this way. Favorite weapon, maybe, as I've said in a post I've made before, but that's it. Bruce wouldn't kill for him or any of his kids. He's come close, yeah, but he's also come close to killing the Joker too after Jason's death and had to be threatened into not doing it. Every time, it's in a strong surge of emotion, and the second Bruce thinks rationally- well, he doesn't do it. Dick isn't at all unique, Bruce wouldn't kill for him either.

I think Bruce is the most proud of Dick, and has a unique relationship with him due to knowing him the longest and the parentification, but I don't think that makes him the favorite. Maybe to the other batkids, but probably not in reality.

I don't think Bruce really HAS a favorite- Dick is probably the closest to it, but still.

Though, if you wanna play around with angst and fanon ideas, maybe both Dick and Jason are the favorites and that's why Bruce treats them the worst? Dunno, it'd make a fun fic, even if it's not really grounded in canon (though I ignore RHATO and Comic UTRH).

Idk. Just,, gestures. Dick is a scapegoat to me.

Hope my 2 am rambling made sense lol

Okay, I see you, but I'll argue:

Dick Grayson is both the scapegoat and the golden child.

Now, you might not believe this since he doesn't tend to be both at the same time, and it isn't common for these roles to exist within the same individual. But Dick Grayson is praised and favored as much as he's blamed and pushed.

A golden child is the one who carries most of the expectations in the family. The parent expects them to be perfect, make no mistakes, take on roles they're pushed into with no issue (thus parentification can happen), and continue on and on to be good enough and meet the criteria so they don't make the parent disappointed.

The love is conditional hence they develop this unhealthy perfectionism and self-esteem and self-worth issues that will follow them till adulthood even when they're out of that environment and living their own lives.

The reason why a parent might choose a specific child (or children) to be the favored one is because they tend to see this child as an extension of themselves. And consequential to this, they will project their insecurities onto said child and force them to improve—be the best—where they fall short. All of their capabilities are overvalued, making the parent see them as special and much better than the rest, causing the unrealistic expectations a child must hold and fulfill so as not to “fail” their parent(s).

Although this child might seem like the favorite and who could do no wrong on the outside, the love they receive isn't something they can take for granted.

When a golden child underperforms or isn't as good as they're expected, the parent’s demeanor might change. They will feel the disappointment and fear this might cause the treatment they get to change. Sometimes the child might even fear abandonment or rejection from their parent as a result of their failures.

The mix of all this turns into a person who's over-competent, hard-working and someone that tends to take charge of things so they aren't at risk of failing, making them ‘natural’ leaders in any group they might be part of.

Sounding familiar yet?

Now, let's move on to the scapegoat:

A scapegoat child is the one that is blamed by all the things that go wrong in the family. They are constantly criticized and shamed by things they might've not even been part of, but somehow they're now involved and taking all the blame for the others so there are no consequences for anyone but them.

(All the blame also messes with their perception of certain events, making them prone to self-blame for the problems that occur in the family or their behaviors towards them.)

The scapegoating in the family may be due to subconscious projection from the parent when they're dealing with difficult emotions such as shame, guilt, rage, etc. They feel threatened by their own feelings and therefore they will try to escape from them by externalizing those feelings and making them their scapegoat’s problem.

Because of this treatment, the scapegoat might become an outsider in the family, feeling excluded and isolated from the rest. And for this, when push comes to shove and they're going through a rough patch, they will not have any reliable support they can go to inside the family as they'll be ignored or otherwise unfairly treated, having their feelings be invalidated.

Like the golden child, there's some aspects the scapegoat shares with the former:

Being treated differently by the parent/family.

Having unrealistic expectations placed upon them.

Being pushed into roles or responsibilities the child isn't meant to take.

Fear of expressing how they feel.

Self-worth issues and low self-esteem.

Although they're usually roles that are considered opposites, they aren't as incompatible as one might think. A child can alternate between being a scapegoat or the golden child, and this usually happens when the parent is very emotionally unstable, commonly due to a disorder such as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) or borderline personality disorder (BPD).

(I have so many thoughts about the latter applying to Bruce, but I will refrain from elaborating to not make this longer than it needs to be)

Having all I've said until now in consideration, I'm sure you've noticed how Dick meets both criterias—dare I say the golden child more often than the scapegoat.

Bruce is always speaking about how Dick is “better than him” and “the thing he's ever done right”, but in both of these statements you can see he's taking who Dick is and making it as something that's part of him, comparing Dick's accomplishments to his and putting him in this pedestal, and because of this projection happens and Bruce starts seeing Dick as an extension of himself.

This is why, when he or Dick fail, Dick will suddenly become the scapegoat, contrasting with the former golden child position he was in.

Here you can see the high expectations, praise for his accomplishments, his siblings feeling like Dick is better than them (i.e. treated differently than the rest), and you can also see how when he doesn't meet the expectations, he's met with disappointment (see: Alfred disappointed he's not as bright as he usually is) or judgment (see: Bruce angry at him because he isn't committing to his cause as much as he expects him to).

And these are examples of Bruce being too harsh on Dick and expecting him to do better, blaming him for his brother's death, and in result Dick having a habit of blaming himself and accepting mistreatment, thinking it must be his fault.

More often than not, Dick is put on a pedestal by his family and even his friends sometimes. They praise and love him, but when there's occasions in which he's acting less than perfect, the treatment towards him can change.

Dick Grayson can be the golden child as much as he can be the scapegoat.

[ynscrazylife]

Eek! Yay!

So since I'm just a few episodes ahead I'm just going to keep it kind of vague. What do you think of a younger sister whose just a little younger than Sam? Dean practically raising her and so they're super close but when Sam leaves for college their dad decides that maybe the hunter life isn't the best for his daughter so he leaves her behind with a family friend. Imagine the angst and abandonment issues (def not me) like after Dean picks up Sam he tracks down his younger sister he hasn't seen in like a year and she just never gave up hunting so now she's actually pretty good at it? Can you imagine how awkward that reunion would be?? Maybe they're hunting down a monster together or something??

Sorry, this isn't exactly a scenario so much as my own personal idea for a backstory? I don't know but if you like it or you want something else let me know cause there's tons more that are similar or completely different from this one 😏

Great minds think alike cause I kinda had an idea in mind where Dean and Sam meet up with their sister through a hunt! This is a little different than what you put in the ask tho, so I hope that’s alright. I also feel like there is enough for a part 2 so I could end up adding to this! And this would be a fun OC concept to make 👀 if anyone wants that.

a reunion for the ages (dean & sam winchester x sister!reader)

The thing that makes this entire situation, what your life has become, so backwards and twisted is that at first, you didn’t actually want to hunt. You wanted to go to college, like Sam. You weren’t even that much younger than him and in his first year, he seemed to love it. But when your time rolled around, you didn’t get into Stanford.

Yes, there were other colleges that accepted you, but you really wanted to be with your big brother. The rejection hit you hard and as a result (and needing a distraction), you threw yourself into hunting. You became careless and reckless and instead of talking with you about it, your dad made a decision for you: that you weren’t cut out for hunting. He left you and took Dean with him.

When Dean realized what was going on, he of course tried to stop his dad. They got into a pretty bad fight over it. But he was a stubborn man and he refused to go back for you. Dean tried calling you, but thinking that he was in on it with Dad, you refused to pick up. You kept in touch with Sam for a little while, but the both of you got busy as time went on, and the weekly calls stopped.

A few years later, Dean and Sam have hit the road, intent on finding Dad. The backseat of the Impala, which was usually occupied by you, is empty.

“I thought if I gave you some time you might bring it up yourself, but dude, are we picking up Y/N or not?” Sam asks finally, no longer wanting to beat around the bush about it. He knows about Dad and Dean leaving you behind, but assumes that at some point you would’ve made up with them.

“She shouldn’t be involved in this,” Dean says resolutely, keeping his eye on the road ahead, firmly gripping the steering wheel.

“You had no problem involving me in this,” Sam points out, trying not to sound upset over it. There was a small part of him that wonders if he hadn’t gone with Dean, would he’ve been able to save Jess? Still, he knows that he went willingly, and that he could’ve said no.

“You know how to hunt and fight. The last time I saw Y/N hunt . . . Trust me, it didn’t go well,” Dean mutters, definitely not in the mood to have this conversation.

“Shouldn’t we at least let her know what’s going on with Dad?” Sam suggests, now more curious about what happened between you and Dean and Dad. You never gave many details about it.

“Have at it, if she’ll pick up,” Dean says, throwing one hand in the air. He’s trying to play it off as if he doesn’t care, but he does. He misses you.

Sam tries but, as Dean predicted, you don’t answer. Over the next couple days, they get wrapped up into a case where they suspect an angry ghost is the perpetrator, going after the people that they blame for their death. Thankfully they’re able to find the object that the ghost is attached to, a music box. What they don’t expect, however, is to be dealing with a ghost possessing someone. It’s a chef, to be exact, which leads them to their current situation: fighting the possessed chef in his kitchen.

“Sam, a little help here?!” Dean yells, fist-fighting the enraged chef, who looks a little ridiculous in his white chef’s hat.

“I don’t have any iron! Or salt!” Sam yells back, rummaging through his bag in search of something, anything, that might help.

Suddenly, someone runs into the room from behind the guy and jumps on his back. It’s a woman, with a bat in her hand. As the guy stumbles back, she hits him in the head repeatedly, until the guy throws her off his back and onto the table. The woman smacks him again with the bat, then gets salt from out of her pocket, and throws it at him. The ghost is expelled from his body and he drops to the floor.

Dean and Sam exchange looks, wondering who the hell she is.

The ghost isn’t done yet, though. It lifts the woman into the air and lets her drop onto the table, which cracks. She falls onto the floor and the ghost lunges for her, disappearing and now possessing her. Dean and Sam prepare themselves for another fight, only to both freeze when the woman stands up and turns around.

It’s their sister. Their little sister, who’s meant to be enjoying a hunt-free life. There’s a gash on her forehead which is leaking blood down her face and within seconds, she’s lunging at Sam.

He falls back, not sure what to do. If this were anyone else being possessed, he’d fight back, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Y/N, Y/N, c’mon!” He yells, doing his best to dodge your hits.

Dean runs around and grabs you in a bear-hug, pinning your arms to your sides. He drags you back, even as you thrash. “Get some salt, Sam!” He says, struggling to manage you.

“I told you, I don’t have any!” Sam repeats, frustrated.

“It’s a KITCHEN!” Dean practically screams.

While Sam looks for salt, you twist out of Dean’s arms. The two of you go at it but eventually, Dean’s able to get you down on the ground. He feels bad about pressing his knee on your abdomen, holding your arms down, but he has to keep you there.

“I found a salt shaker,” Sam says, kneeling down by your head. “We gotta destroy the music box, though, before the ghost possesses one of us.”

“Alright, do it, but give me the salt,” Dean says, moving your arms above your head and holding your wrists with one hand. With his other, he takes the salt and has to pry your jaw open to pour the salt in your mouth.

You cough and splutter, but Dean forces your mouth to close until you’ve swallowed the salt. Finally, the ghost leaves your body. Dean throws the salt shaker to Sam, who salts the music box before chucking it into the oven.

“Alright, Y/N, we gotta go,” Dean says, throwing one of your arms over his shoulders and pulling you to your feet.

All you can do is lean against him and mumble your brother’s name, your head spinning.

Sam grabs the chef and the four of you stumble out the back exit. Sam lays the chef on the ground and calls the fire department, then you guys make your getaway in Dean’s car.

“I’m staying with her,” Sam decides, sitting in the backseat with you while Dean starts to drive.

“Sam . . . Dean? What’re you doing here?” You ask as Sam tends to your head with the first aid kit that they keep in the car. You can hardly believe that you’re really with your brothers again.

“Could ask you the same question, kid. Sammy and I were hunting that ghost,” Dean says, speeding up a little to get to the motel faster.

“So was I,” you say. Your head feels far too heavy to hold up on your own right now so you let it lean against Sam’s shoulder.

“What?” The brothers ask in unison. They weren’t sure what answer they were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“Been hunting ever since you and Dad left, Dean,” you tell them. Even though you are in pain, you don’t miss the beat of silence that follows.

“You were pretty good back there,” Sam compliments, ruffling your hair a bit. With your head wound bandaged up, he slings his arm around you for the rest of the drive.

Dean is quiet, his fingers thumping against the steering wheel, until the three of you arrive at the motel. Sam helps you out and lays you down on his bed. “I’ll be right back, gonna get you an ice pack,” he says, going to the mini ridge.

Dean sits across from you on his own bed, sighing. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Like I got thrown onto a table . . . Oh wait, I did,” you answer sarcastically, mustering up a smile.

Sam returns, giving you the ice pack and then sitting next to Dean. He glances between his siblings, sensing some tension. “Do you two need to . . . Talk or something?” He asks.

“You’ve really been hunting this whole time?” Dean asks you, still in a bit of disbelief.

You nod. “I got my act together after Dad . . . After you and Dad left. I wanted to prove him wrong,” you explain, shrugging. “Where is he, anyway?”

Sam and Dean exchange a look. “We don’t know. We’ve been hunting and hoping to find him in the process,” Sam says.

You nod slowly. Your dad taking off isn’t that uncommon, but it is uncommon to see your brothers hunting together. “I’ll get out of your hair soon,” you mumble, not sure that they wanted you around.

“Woah, wait. There’s no rush. Sam was right, you were pretty good back there . . . We could use your help,” Dean says. He’s not going to let you go so easily this time around.

“Really?” You say, a little surprised. You sit up in bed, taking the ice pack off your forehead.

“Yes. And keep that on,” Dean says quickly, taking the ice pack from you and pressing it to your wound himself. He moves to sit down next to you, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. It’s kinda nice to have him helping you out, he’s always been protective over you and Sam.

“The Three Musketeers, all back together again,” Sam jokes, just to annoy you both.

“Is it too late to back out now?” You ask.

“Yes,” the brothers say. You’re in too deep now, Dean and Sam aren’t letting you go again.

[petit-etoile]

Astarion/Tav prompt (or Reformed Durge): "I would have you smile again. You will live to see these days renewed. No more despair." I know it's a Lord of the Rings quote but gosh if it doesn't remind me of them ;-;

this  is  the  end  of  the  world ( a  time  for  something  biblical  )

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 5,219 content warnings: canonical mentions of death, spoilers for the dark urge storyline & astarion's act iii romance, graphic mentions of injuries, references to cann.ibalism as a metaphor for love, mental health issues & physical ramifications from the tadpole + rejecting bhaal, i highly recommend listening to the exogenesis symphony by muse other tags: canon compliant,  canon-typical violence,  character study,  introspection,  hurt/comfort,  whump,  canon temporary character death,  the dark urge as player character,  codependency,  religious imagery & symbolism,  p.orn with plot archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added to the taglist here

summary:  ‘Stay,’ Astarion says weakly. ‘I don’t want to be alone.’

‘Your life is mine,’ he says, cruel eyes gazing at you. ‘Accept your inheritance, or I will reclaim it.’

‘I would rather die,’ you say.

His hateful eyes narrow dangerously. It was never a good idea to betray a god, nonetheless one who had created you so lovingly. His voice is a low growl when he dismisses you  —  and suddenly, white-hot pain shoots through your veins and threatens to swallow you whole. Bhaal raises his hand and your blood obeys.

‘You were made to conquer,’ he snarls. ‘To devour!’

‘I don’t need any of this,’ you spit out. ‘I don’t need you. The only family  —  I know are those who fight by my side! I will not be what you made me!’

The sickness in your belly surges until you think it will overcome you. You stagger forward until your knees hit the stone floor. Bhaal is forcing you to submit, to become what he had made Orin. This thing won’t have you, Astarion whispers against the curve of your ear. It won’t win. You’ve got this, darling. And I’ve got you. You want to believe him, but your blood-kin has done damage beyond repair. What were children beyond the sins of their father?

‘You reject my blood?’ Bhaal asks.

‘Yes,’ you whisper.

‘Then I shall reclaim it,’ he says, his promise a growl in his throat.

You were your father’s seed cultivated to perfection by determination and bravery. Now, you were nothing more than a disappointment to be snuffed out root and stem. You choke on the warmth in your throat. Your veins seem to have exploded beneath your skin. You sneeze, red oozing from every orifice.

‘I will make another who is worthy,’ says Bhaal, lifting his hand.

As he raises his hand, you are forced to kneel. Every single one of your muscles contracts in agony. The others might be shouting but you can hardly hear them over the roaring in your ears. Your blood is rejecting you. Festering inside your flesh like a disease. Like the skeleton carved into the wall, you weep blood down your neck. No matter how hard you try to close your eyes to prevent it, your rich ichor abandons you.

No, you want to tell him. The rot of his blood will end with you as it had with Orin. The abomination of murder will never set forth and harm another. You reach for the dagger at your hip and raise it, but the Avatar of Bhaal dissipates before you can strike. The weight of your body collapses  forward.

Like a wounded beast, you keen loudly, shaking your head as if that will free your ears from the blood inside of them. You were born from this blood. You were created by this blood to be who you are today. Rejecting it should be like a sin  —  but if sin is a seed, you have eaten it willingly from the hand of mortality. If Bhaal is to reject you, then you will reject his godhood.

You close your eyes as blood overtakes your sight. You press your forehead into the stone to fight your fever. You shiver and gasp. You gargle on the proof of vitriol and lean into the chilled floor, resigned to your fate. At least you wouldn’t become a mindflayer…

“No!” Astarion wails. Your heart shatters. ‘No, please  —  Not you!’

I’m sorry, you say. You close your eyes and remember the color of the sun in his hair. I didn’t mean for this to happen. This isn’t what I wanted. Your fingers curl against the stone, and then  —  There’s nothing. Astarion touches the sleepless bruises beneath your eyes with such tenderness you forget his strength. You lean your cheek into his palm and sigh sleepily, but even as exhaustion overtakes your body, you shudder. You’re afraid to sleep, to dream. You don’t want to hurt anyone else ever again.

‘You have to rest, my love,’ he murmurs. He allows you to lay on his hand as though it were a pillow. ‘When was the last time you slept through the night?’

‘I’m not sure,’ you confess.

‘I might be a sleepless creature of the night,’ Astarion says, ‘but you… You needn’t fear your dreams when I am here. I’ll protect you no matter the cost.’

‘And who will protect you if I sleep?’ you ask.

You must be frowning, because Astarion uses his other hand to soothe the crease between your eyebrows. He sounds so outrageously heartbroken that you want to cry. You don’t want him to think he isn’t a comfort… You haven’t slept beside someone in so long, and the warmth of his body has always lulled you to your dreams peacefully until recently.

Astarion swallows thickly. ‘I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of this. I’m with you forever and always.’

But what if there isn’t an always?

‘There is always a future for you and I,’ Astarion vows. ‘Now sleep. He can’t control you as long as I’m around.’ When you open your eyes again, you’re greeted by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His eyes are a soft cerise, and his cheeks are high and sleek, his lips plump and his hair soft and curled. An angel. You’re unable to control the way you reach your hand to touch his cheek, smearing a crystalline tear across his wan skin.

‘Who are you?’ you whisper, voice caught painfully in your throat.

‘Hush now, my love,’ he whispers. He presses a sweet kiss to your mouth, and when he pulls away, his lips are ruddy and wet. ‘Thank the gods… I thought I had lost you.’

Oh, you think. You remember now. This is the man from your dream… You try to recall the details of how you know him, but it’s hard to follow a train of thought. You turn from side to side. It’s so hard to move, to focus. Your limbs feel as though they are made of lead and marble. Everything aches. The tips of your fingers and your nails down to the little bones in your toes. Your head, though, is the only part of you free from intense pain. It’s as though a weight has been lifted from the veil of your memories. You rest your arm across your waist, too tired to keep it lifted.

‘Who…’ Your brows furrow in confusion. ‘Who am I?’

‘I know you were once a child full of life and love,’ the angel says to you, gently cradling your face in his hands. ‘I know one day you were afraid and unsure and half-mad. I know you stained the streets red with cruelty and devised a plan larger than all of Faerûn. But I know you are strong and that your heart is good. You saved the tieflings, and you saved the refugees, and now you will save the world that threatens to be plunged into darkness.’

You smile. ‘That doesn’t sound like me at all,’ you confess.

The angel shakes his hand, fingers pressing hard into your skin. His voice breaks. ‘But I know it to be true, so you must believe my every word. You are brave. You are kind. You are good. You are my love, and I know that I am loved by you in return. You are a protector,’ he tells you. ‘You have protected everyone, and now it is time to protect yourself. You have survived two gods and now you must survive a third.’

The knot in your throat grows larger with every word. You think you remember now. Yes, you can remember it all very clearly. You know the weight of his hands like baptism. You turn your cheek and kiss his palm, smudging his skin pink.

‘Astarion,’ you whisper.

Your love smiles down at you, your blood dribbling down his chin.

‘What happened?’

‘Let’s not worry about that,’ he shushes you, massaging the bruises beneath your eyes. ‘Come, let us get you cleaned up.’

‘I don’t think I can walk yet,’ you say. Admitting it makes you feel weak.

‘Don’t worry,’ Astarion says softly. ‘I can carry you.’

‘I will bloody your clothes,’ you say.

‘Bloody them,’ Astarion says. ‘I don’t care.’

Astarion does carry you. He carries you all the way back to the inn, to a private room just the two of you share. He orders a tub to bathe you in and then takes an hour to scrub your skin clean, carefully cleaning your gore from your hair and scalp.

You watch as Astarion passes a bar of soap against the skin of the top of your arm over and over again until it is red then pink then flesh. Then, he gently twists your wrist. He cleans the underside of your arm next, and your palm. He washes your fingers until they do nothing but shake in the cold air. You curl your fingers around his.

‘Was it hard?’ you ask him.

‘I will never forget the smell of your scent,’ Astarion replies.

He moves to wash the hollow between your collarbones, encouraging you to recline in the water. He washes your chest and your stomach until his grief washes over him in waves. His chin shakes until a sob escapes. He presses his face into your hair and wails softly into your crown. When he’s done weeping, Astarion returns to his cleansing. He speaks not of it again. There is so little of you left.

You often wonder how much of your brain is left between the parasite and the hole your father has left you. Sometimes Jaheira still looks at you as though the rot of your father isn’t entirely gone. You don’t blame her. You’re waiting for your control to snap. You were good once. You could be good again. You want to be good again.

Shadowheart smiles at you now. Lae’zel no longer frowns. Even Wyll has taken up eating beside you again when it’s nighttime and the adventure can go no more. Gale pours you an extra serving of wine. He says you need it. Karlach lets you hold Clive at night when Astarion goes hunting, and he goes hunting often now. It makes you wonder if your blood is vile.

Part of you wants to ask him if you’ve done something wrong. You’ve committed no crime, but you feel like you have. Your memories of before are slipping away. Your memories of now seem to do the same.

You wait in your tent that night for Astarion to return, your blanket pulled around your head and shoulders. You rehearse what you’re going to say. You want to reassure him you’re not angry. You just…feel loss. Empty. The loneliness nips at your bones like crows at carrion.

When Astarion slips inside, he looks guilty. It almost makes you want to change your mind, but you have to know. You feel as though you’re going mad. A flightless bird trapped in a cage. Like Dame Aylin trapped in Shadowfell. He refuses to meet your gaze.

‘Have I done something  —  ’

‘You,’ Astarion says through gritted teeth, ‘are perfect. Every time.’

You want to cry. ‘Then why do you avoid me?’

‘Avoid you?’ Astarion repeats incredulously. He looks at you now despairingly. ‘No, that isn’t what this is at all. I would never avoid you.’

‘You’re hunting more often,’ you say in a low tone, a whisper. Accusatory.

‘Can you blame me?’ he asks plainly.

It’s your turn to look away in shame. ‘If it’s too much, you should sleep somewhere else.’

‘I don’t want to be apart from you,’ Astarion says.

‘Then how do we fix this?’

‘You cannot fix what is not broken.’

‘Astarion,’ you plead. ‘Hold me or  —  I don’t know who I am anymore.’

Astarion wraps his arms around you before you can say another word. His lips are like a halo against your head. Each kiss he presses against your scalp is a prayer from a sinner. You turn your cheek, and he kisses you so passionately it makes your empty head spin.

You relearn who are you in his arms that night. And as he regales you with tales of your history, you think you can imagine them in your mind’s eye. He kisses your wrist. He tells you a happy memory when he kisses the curve of your belly, and when he kisses your ankle, he promises you that everything will be worth it.

It wasn’t you that was the problem. There wasn’t a problem, not really. Only an impiety he wanted to atone for. He struggles with telling you, but when he whispers it against your thigh, you understand.

‘Your blood,’ he says, voice strained. ‘I cannot escape the smell.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, but he shakes his head and his hair tickles your sensitive skin.

‘No, I  —  It is my shame,’ he confesses. ‘I’ll admit I’m a lech.’

Astarion struggles to put his words in a coherent structure. When you died, he was horrified and distraught. Only the gods know how hard he wept seeing you lifeless. Yet it was his vampiric nature that had betrayed him almost as much as your life’s blood had betrayed you. He felt hunger.

How could he be sad when he was so ravenous? Was he not an evil man, or is this what made him evil? That, in all of his beautiful tears and lamentation, the urge to devour you, bones and all, nearly consumed him? Your death was horrible, ugly, wretched. Your death was beautiful and coveted.

Astarion devours you again that night, mouthing and licking and sucking at your swollen core. He makes you a martyr in his grief. His tongue teases you over and over again. When you’ve climaxed once, Astarion seeks out to make you do it again until your legs are shaking violently and your voice has gone hoarse. He doesn’t take you that night, not in the traditional way, but he swallows you up regardless.

It isn’t until afterwards when he’s laying with his head on your chest that you understand his tragedy. It’s a misfortunate impossibility trying to grieve when you can’t stop salivating. Astarion thinks you’re horrified by the admission, but after knowing your past, it was hard to feel scandalized by anything.

You pet his curls away from his face, watching as he listens to the hum of your heartbeat. He might have it memorized by now, but each time it beats, Astarion’s eyelashes flutter with admiration. It is a hymn, a doxology, a liturgy that only he knows the words to. After all, he wrote them on your skin and immortalized them forevermore. He is so beautiful, you think, when there is no trouble to be seen.

You were once both trapped by your dark god’s design. You had set yourself free. You had sprouted the wings of a swan guided by the empathy you had planted in a garden as a child. It would be Astarion’s soon, and you would carry him in compassion until the thorn crown was placed upon his brow.

Astarion’s eyes are closed. In your perpetually confused state, you mistake him for having fallen asleep and resort to doing the same. The city becomes chilly at night and your skin is decorated with gooseflesh. He rises almost immediately and you try to chase after him, fingers piercing through a ghost.

‘I wasn’t going anywhere,’ Astarion says immediately. He drags his cape from the corner of the tent and lays it across your shins. ‘You were shivering.’

‘I’m not used to this  —  ’ Will my mind ever be the same? ‘  —  chill.’

‘I will be here,’ he promises. ‘Here, let me hold you for the night.’

You clumsily trade places with him, and he tucks your blanket and his cape around your body as tightly as he can. He kisses you passionately and you taste your familiarity in his mouth. It’s so sweet that you sigh. ‘I know what you did,’ Orin says hatefully, spitefully, cruelly. Her voice is like honey.

‘What have I done?’

‘Did you think I wouldn’t know?’ she asks. ‘Filthy rotten blood-kin undeserving of our father’s gift!’

You repeat yourself. ‘What have I done?’

‘You,’ Orin spits, ‘think your grey matter deserves to be loved! I should carve it out! I should make it disgusting and sticky again! Split it’s skull open! You foul traitor!’

Slowly, you pull Orin into your chest. You hug her and smooth her hair down her back. Her arms wrap around you begrudgingly until the lovingkindness causes her to rupture. She sobs into your neck hideously, clinging to you. She wails and she wails until you are both children again staring up at your grandsire for approval.

‘It isn’t fair,’ Orin tells you, hiccuping. She wipes her nose with her fingers. ‘It isn’t fair.’

‘I love you, blood-kin,’ you say. You kiss the top of her head.

‘Slaughter kin,’ she says sadly. She holds your hand with her snotty palm.

‘Sister,’ you say. In the coming weeks, your mind hardly gets better. Memories are still missing. You catch yourself gazing at the mirror longer than you expect to. You used to be so beautiful. It’s hard to recognize the face staring back at you. You touch one cheek and then the other. You turn your head and watch your jawline.

No, it still isn’t you.

You take the knife in your belt to your hair and begin cutting away pieces you don’t remember. You lean forward and smudge your eyes before sitting up straight and trying again. You recognize a part of yourself. You chase that feeling. You press your hand against your heart. You smile faintly. Astarion sobs so hard you think you might lose yourself. You’re at a loss of what to do. He’s alive but he keens like a dying deer. It’s supposed to be healing, you think. Cazador is dead. His reign of terror should end. Astarion is saved and he saved himself. You couldn’t be prouder of him.

Slowly, you step forward one foot after another. You collapse to your knees at his side. It’s easy to pull Rhapsody from his fingers. You drop it by his side. Slowly, as if in a dream, you hold him like you held Orin. Astarion sobs harshly into your collarbone and clings to you so tightly you might break.

‘I thought  —  I thought  —  ’ he cries brokenly.

I thought it would make me feel better, he says without saying. You shush him and pet his hair. Cazador’s blood smears against your cheek when Astarion burrows his face into your neck. You let him linger. You aren’t sure how long you sit on the hard marbled floors, but when you stand up, your knees creak so loud you’re almost insecure about it.

This time, it’s your turn to carry Astarion. He won’t let you pick him up, but you hold him by his waist. You carry him past your allies, past the onlookers who once saw you in opposition. You order the maids to bring you a bath, and as Astarion hiccups in the water, you bathe him.

You wash the taint of Cazador from his body. The soap cleans the dirt and the blood and the memory. You wash his chest and his belly and Astarion thanks you hoarsely. He looks at you, and his eyes are so wide and beautiful that you cry too.

Dying isn’t easy. It isn’t beautiful or romantic or a sweeping gesture. Dying is painful and hideous and ugly, and you have saved Astarion from a lifetime of torment. Rather, he did it by himself with your help. You swipe the soap against his cheeks and use a rag to clear it away. Astarion’s hair is somehow curlier when it’s wet, and you part the curls so they’ll dry without tangling.

Astarion watches you miserably as you towel his hair. You wipe droplets of water off his skin and slowly slide him into his smallclothes. He accepts your blanket and wraps it around his shoulders, staring at the wooden floor, at his feet.

‘Stay,’ Astarion says weakly. ‘I don’t want to be alone.’

‘I would never let you be alone,’ you say.

It isn’t what you bought the room for. Really, you only wanted to wipe the blood from his face but now, you climb into the sheets next to Astarion and hold him tightly. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about the future. He doesn’t want to talk about his siblings either or the thousands of spawn waiting to hang on his every word.

And you can’t even blame him. The gods know how long it took for your tongue to become free from the weight that held it still after you betrayed your father. Karlach said you talked a lot before, but now it’s hard to say anything without wondering if your words are in the right order. Astarion cries softly as if to not awaken you from your slumber, but you can’t fall asleep. You can’t toss or turn either, but dreams evade you.

Dawn peeks through the window. Dawn-bringer, Jergal had called you. You slide out of bed carefully then and cross the room. You draw the curtains shut. Astarion watches you curiously from where he burrows in the sheets. His brow furrows adorably when you climb back into bed and plaster yourself to his spine.

‘Ah,’ you say monotonously. ‘The sun is gone. I suppose we'll stay in until it returns.’

After a day of lounging, Astarion still isn’t ready to talk about what’s on his mind but he watches you do your favorite mundane mortal things with explicit interest. He has you read the book you’re reading aloud, and if it takes you a few hours to struggle through one chapter, he says nothing about it.

Every once in a while, another one of your companions comes to sit in.

Lae’zel tries to commend Astarion for his warrior’s heart without sounding stilted, but eventually she gives up on complimenting him to sympathetically let him know she understands. They had all seen Vlaakith. Karlach brings Clive by and carefully arranges him in the bed next to Astarion. She tells him that he’s fucking awesome and asks permission to hug him.

The touch nearly sends him spiraling.

Gale approaches in his usual manner. He brings Astarion a bottle of wine spiked with blood and lets him know he’s available to chat whenever Astarion feels up to it. Wyll spends thirty minutes apologizing for the bad blood between them, which is funny considering their bickering was hardly vitriolic. Shadowheart visits and gifts him a perfume that makes his lip wobble dangerously.

Jaheira, Minsc, Boo and Halsin come together solemnly. They might be the least offensive of the bunch. Boo gives Astarion a thousand kisses on his cheeks, and Jaheira finally tells them a story of her youth. Halsin has Astarion drink a potion, not because he’s injured physically, but because it should help with his pain. Minsc tries teaching you a Rashemen dance, but Astarion laughs for the first time that day and you do too.

‘It is good,’ Jaheira says, ‘to see you both smile again.’

You touch your mouth shyly. Your cheeks are sore. Astarion’s smile fades slightly but returns in full, timid confidence lighting his features once more. Halsin crosses the room and opens the curtains you’ve closed. The light douses the room in holiness, and you turn your face to watch the sunset, unafraid of what the future will bring.

‘That which troubles you will soon be over,’ she promises. She pats Astarion’s hand, and although she doesn’t say it, you know he’s her son. ‘You will live to see these days renewed. There will be no more despair.’

You’re both left alone again together. Astarion beckons you to the bed instead of your chair and you join him, carefully sitting atop the covers, a respectable distance between your thighs. You inhale carefully.

‘You did the right thing,’ you say. ‘Not completing the Black Mass.’

‘Perhaps I had inspiration,’ Astarion replies. ‘You had a chance to become the Slayer, a being more powerful than you could have known. But you didn’t.’

‘I betrayed my father,’ you whisper, staring at your hands. ‘And he killed me for it.’

‘And if I had completed Cazador’s ritual,’ Astarion says, ‘I would have become Mephistopheles’s whore. I refuse to bow to the whims of others. Being an Ascendent…was blinding me to the truth.’

You look at him curiously then. He confesses to you his sins. He has thought of ascending, and thought of it often but it was never to protect himself. After a certain point, he wanted to protect you too. Your Urges had been mistaken for something else then. A possession, an invasion. Astarion sought to exorcise you of your demons.

But when you had died and the diseased lifeblood fled from your veins, Astarion realized the truth. The ascension would not have helped him protect you. It would have tainted him. It would have contorted him. Rising above all other vampires, Astarion would have become cruel like those before him. He does not want to be cruel to you. He wants to learn kindness as you have. He reaches for it like he chases the sun.

Astarion takes you by the hand, smoothing your skin with his thumb over and over. His skin is cold beneath yours. You curl your fingers into his. He did not want to make you a slave, not again. Not to him.

‘You are the dawn-bringer,’ Astarion says. ‘Even if I never see the sun again, I am free.’

‘I love you,’ you say, voice shaking. ‘I’ll be with you. In the darkness.’

‘You fool,’ Astarion laughs affectionately. He leans across the distance and kisses your temple. ‘There is no darkness. You are daylight incarnate.’

You look at him sharply.

‘I’ve been thinking about something,’ he says. ‘It’s…been on my mind all day, but I think it’s time. Say you’ll come away with me.’

You and Astarion dress slowly. You would follow him almost anywhere, but this is different. There’s something to be done. You don’t dress in armor, and for that you’re almost grateful. You’re tired of fighting. You’re tired of seeing blood.

But it isn’t blood or anything blood related that Astarion takes you to see. One minute, you are wandering Baldur’s Gate at night, and the next, you’ve come to the hollow of a tree where a gravestone is coated in vines.

‘This…is where my old life began,’ Astarion tells you softly. ‘Beneath there, I was turned into a monster. But Cazador is dead now and I get to decide my own fate.’

Astarion tells you in painful detail about his transformation. How his wounds fused themselves shut but the pain never went away. He tells you about breaking through the wood of his demise and the fear that flooded his veins and how, just when he thought he had found his savior, Cazador had laughed wickedly with his cruel glowing eyes.

‘I was his,’ Astarion murmurs, ‘but not anymore.’

He kneels before you on the dirt before his tombstone and bows his head. The prodigal son returned home. The sight of it causes your heart to squeeze. You want to step away but you can’t. You’re afraid.

‘There is nothing left of the person I was before,’ he tells you. ‘I am free to become who I want to be, free to start a new journey. I have all the time in the world to figure out who I am and what I want, but I think I know.’

‘I love you,’ you say again. ‘You’re what I want.’

‘You were by my side through all of this,’ Astarion says, eyes glimmering in the moonlight. ‘And now I want you to christen me. Inaugurate me here on the site of my rebirth.’

This is another dream. You hold your hands over Astarion’s head and sprinkle imaginary water over his head. His eyes close instinctively. Love washes over him, something golden. You kneel down and pluck a flower from the earth and it does not bleed. Relief floods your veins. For once, you touch something and it does not rot. Carefully, like a ghost, you slide the flower into Astarion’s hair and watch as his crimson eyes spill open with tears and devotion.

Astarion kisses you, and for the first time in a long time, he presses his body against yours. He takes you that night in the dirt. His leg is tucked under yours, his cock against your core, his lips never leaving yours. Astarion recites verses in your ears until you burst with ecstasy, tightening around him so much that he can hardly move. He cradles the back of your head to comfort you as he drinks your blood. He cradles your head tonight because he loves you.

‘I am yours,’ he whispers against your skin, ‘and you are mine.’ You aren’t sure when or how Astarion has the time, but he presents you with a gift the night before the world ends. He wears a matching flower from his grave pinned to his armor at all times now. And on his hand, a ring with a silver band. He slides one over your finger as well and kisses your palm as you slowly realize what it means.

The family you’ve chosen throws you a celebration. The next day, Dammon arrives and shows you your repaired armor now dyed white.

You cry for hours out of happiness. ‘This could be the last chance we have for this,’ you whisper to Astarion.

Everyone keeps telling you that a light has returned to your eye, but you don’t see it. It isn’t until you’re laying naked with Astarion again, his skin pressed against yours, that you think you can see it too.

Astarion fucks you tenderly until you’re sore, and you cry and plead sweet things against his shoulder while he holds you safe in his arms. When the pleasure becomes too much and your spine arches from the mattress, he pulls you into his lap and holds you safe against his chest. You kiss him until your lips are sore.

 ‘Your life is mine,’ Astarion murmurs. ‘You belong with me, my love.’

‘I’ve never been happier,’ you moan weakly.

He has taken you again and again this evening. He doesn’t say it, but Astarion is afraid of what tomorrow might bring. You have outsmarted gods and men. You have found goodness where there was nothing but darkness. You refuse to be afraid now.

‘We were made to conquer,’ Astarion says. His mouth is like a fire across your cheekbone. You shudder around his cock.

‘Take my love,’ Astarion commands you, so you do.

You kiss a ruby bruise into his neck, and Astarion fills you with a grunt. He doesn’t part from you. He guides you back down into the sheets and burrows against your body as if determined to climb between your ribs. You smile. Astarion has already made a home in your bones and flesh. He has eaten the rot from your core and recreated you anew. You were not his sin but his salvation. Perhaps he was yours too.

[some-thrilling-heroics]

the purpose of this post is for me to figure some stuff out so i'm open to feedback and discussion

disclaimer: i love Halsin, he's my precious bear man

but damn i am pissed

i started to really dig into the epilogue, specifically that last morning after the brain goodbye scene in the room at the inn where he says he has nine wagons of kids and he will aid the people in Thaniel's realm

sadly i can't find any footage of what he says when Tav goes "oh a community built with your own hands, i'd love to see that" (or something to that extent) bc i think that is the one option that nullifies the goodbye and i think? he just asks if Tav is sure and then happy end bells

but even so

the interaction practically starts with "why does this sound like you're saying goodbye?" - oh that's because he is. at least for now. but Tav can visit, he's very eager for them to visit - and then narrator is like a tenday later Tav went to the commune and then the party invite stuff, not important

and I'm like....

it just hit me how - yes, Halsin has abandonment issues and he wants to help those orphans and all the homeless refugees and all the great stuff but like…… HOW DARE YOU DECIDE FOR ME THAT I DON'T WANNA GO WITH YOU????

watching that on a loop three times seriously hit me hard and i don't like it (as in me, personally, not in the sense that it's bad writing or it makes no sense for him to do that, maybe it does - if somebody can help me wrap my head around that, I would be super grateful bc atm I'm stuck in my own emotional reaction to Halsin making decisions for me)

in my head Tav's response to that should be: fuck you, i don't want to visit - fuck that! i wanna go with you and move in with you bc I love you but i guess you don't really want that huh? oh you do? then I guess we are at an impasse, huh?

bottom line is - what do I want to do with it in my fic?

i could ignore it bc i kinda wanna, i don't want them fighting like that

on the other hand it would be great to have this devolve into a conflict, bc i already sprinkled a few tiny bits of them saying not the best things but then the other kinda steps past it or around it and they are fine, but it would add some realism for them to have a serious disagreement about their (joint) future and about communicating and making decisions and could be something to be revisited as a work in progress for them to grow into as their relationship keeps going

i don't mind exploring difficult shit in my fics, i already decided to commit and give Tav my trauma and it was very cathartic just drafting that bit, and this turning into a conflict could play into that I suppose, could work really well

I guess my problem is the dissonance between Halsin doing that unintentionally bc of his own issues and him generally being very considerate and respectful of others, especially Tav imo, he was perfectly happy to follow their decisions as a leader but now I guess they are no longer the leader and this is his thing, his commune, his new purpose in life and ofc he could never be selfishly happy when he could be doing good things for strangers but like.... i can't grasp that step how from that he goes into "therefore I shall not offer this as a choice for them but instead make that a foregone conclusion that this is goodbye, at least for now" - is it bc asking means risk of rejection and he'd rather reject himself to spare them both the interaction?

sorry this got rambly XD but anyway - thoughts?

[icequeenlila]

Runaway Lo'ak fic (Locorro)

Lo'ak x Spider

I want to start a new fic, bc I am depressed and need joy in my life (she said while planning out a new angsty fic).

Don't worry, I'll keep writing 'A Son for a Son'. That story is my baby and I will not abandon it. But I need/want variety.

(also it's just an idea so far)

Working Title: 'Belong'

Plot:

Lo'ak tries to make peace with Aonung, nearly dying in the process, just like in the movie. When he returns home he has the usual fight with Jake, only that Lo'ak doesn't just swallow the "You brought shame to this family.", but fights back instead, trying to defend himself. Things get heated, son and father screaming, until Jake hits. Not too hard, but he hits. He regrets it immediately but the damage is done and Lo'ak decides he can't stay. He doesn't fit. No matter how hard he tries, it's never right and he doesn't want to be a burden for his family anymore. So, over the following days he plans his 'escape'. Payakan is in on the thing and they leave together.

So much for the initial situation.

Lo'ak's 'escape' is pretty much a day (or a few) before Quarritch would have found the Sullys. (He doesn't in this fic. So, Neteyam lives. Yeay!) Lo'ak and Payakan spot the demon ship and go to take a look, just in case this is going to get a real threat to the people at Awa'atlu. Lo'ak sees Spider on the deck and he can't believe his eyes. Of course he decides to go get him. Spider is mad happy and slips away with his best friend without much thought. (No, I didn't forget the tracker inside his mask. I'll deal with that.)

Well, things happen blah blah blah. I don't know the details yet.

Lo'ak and Spider are in love. Oblivious numb skulls, of course. Lo'ak offers Spider to get him to Awa'atlu, so he can be with Kiri and the others, but Spider just wacks him and tells him he's stupid for believing he'd leave his side again. Bc Love, bro.

Spider ends up getting his own Avatar. Again, no details, but I have a rough plan.

Blah blah blah, they grow up, they travel the world, they adopt two sweet children along the line. And some day, when their travels bring them close to Awa'atlu, Spider decides to give old friends a visit (without Lo'ak's knowing).

So, imagine. Jake and Neytiri not knowing what happened to their son, finding Spider in na'vi form with their supposedly grand child on his arm. Hilarious.

Lo'ak and Spider are level A dads by the way. They gonna have a boy and a girl. I don't know the details yet, I only know that the lil boy is gonna be a difficult whirlwind with anger issues. Bc I want Lo'ak to be a gentle parent.

Also, Mo'at and Norm are part of this story (at least they are in my imagination, I'll make things up as I go.) Locorro is gonna stay with the Omatikaya for a while, Mo'at not being as rejecting of Spider as her daughter was. Also, her character is needed, so Spider can get the same ritual as Jake, connecting his soul to his na'vi body permanently. (I imagine Mo'at as a very loving grandma. Lo'ak and her are gonna bond.)

I'm probably gonna do multiple povs. Like the story doesn't just follow Lo'ak and Spider but also shows how the Sully's are dealing with Lo'ak's loss. Bc we need angst and I won't give Jake a rest.

Family reunion and stuff. Do I have your interest? Tell me pls.

I started writing some of it but I know I'll lose interest if there isn't any feedback from readers. Soooo, pls let me know, so I can decide if it's worth investing my time. I know Locorro isn't that big, so maybe the interest isn't there in the fandom.

+

I noticed how all my fics just come to existence, bc of some stupid thing Jake said that pissed me off in the movie.

A Son for a Son: " You've done enough."

This one (Belong): "You brought shame to this family."

That man is my muse.

[failyaoi]

Mk1 disorder headcanons w my fav characters

(If you see smth you don't like here pls just ignore 😭 I dont want to be involved in discourse) (also please do not demonize any of the disorders that are shown ty)

Johnny Cage: BPD + Audhd

Due to his childhood with his dad and early Hollywood career, he developed bpd. His entire childhood he was petrified of his mom leaving, and leaving him with his dad, as she almost had a few times. His early career as an actor left him becoming erratic due to some experiences and ended up doing a lot of stupid things during episodes. He gets attached really easily but tries not to show it and fails MISERABLY. This also means he mentally and emotionally distances himself from people really really fast. He's really, really scared of people leaving him behind and it's utterly exhausting for him, he'll self-sabotage just so that he isn't the one being 'abandoned'. With the nature of his career and the standards that come with it, being exposed to it young was like his own personal heaven and hell because the rejection was like dying and the praise was like being high. His special interest is history and gets very passionate about it ^_^

Kenshi: CPTSD + Quiet BPD + Autistic

Kenshi growing up in the Yakuza....witnessed a lot of shit since he was a little kid. He only got to be a normal kid for a very short amount of time before he was groomed by his family to become a Yakuza member. His PTSD comes from many events like his parents dying, hurting people and getting hurt, various violent events and loss of identity as his own person....instead of expressing his frustrations, he internalised it as a way to protect himself. When he met Suchin she kinda broke him out of dissociation and helped him understand he is actually a person. He continued to have dissociation issues but now that he had support from someone he trusted, he was finally able to do some normal people stuff with her and he finally started seeing a future where he was free. However years later in the midst of freeing himself he made a few mistakes which caused Suchin to distance herself from him which hit him kinda hard. He doesn't know how to unmask but being around Johnny has gotten him to relax a little bit and enjoy the little things (like movies)

Takeda: DID + BPD + Autistic (same for MkX)

Takeda having DID was actually my first headcanon for a mk character....I don't really have any canon evidence for it (it's mostly just projecting onto a character I see myself in) other than the fact he's been through a lot of very traumatic events canonically as seen in the comic. For BPD in MkX, it would come from Suchin dying then Kenshi leaving. in Mk1 Id assume something like emotional neglect from his "parents" (not Kenshi or Suchin; teen parents au believers hi xd) I haven't gotten too much into it for Mk1 but I'm #1 system Takeda believer ☝️ (just an edit for mk1 Takeda having DID, I think he could have developed it as a way to subconsciously protect himself from all the violence . he distanced himself from the reality of it which is why he ended up "enjoying" his life in the yakuza)

For more simple ones just for the sake of keeping this short, here's a small list for more characters

Kung Jin, Tomas, Liu: PTSD

Bpd Jin is also real

Bi-Han: DID

Lao, Raiden, Liu, Sonya, and it's safe to say literally everyone else in mortal kombat is on the autism spectrum

vvv tags for more :3

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter Four

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

D Y L A N ‘ S P O V

It was hours later and I still hadn’t come out of my room until it was time to eat again or all the deliver pizza was gone. I headed to the kitchen and ran into Posey with Alex, the new blonde, hanging on his every word and muscle.

I was still pissed at him and purposely let my disgust show at their flirting in front of me. “Hey man. Sorry about earlier but you had to hear it.”

I slammed down my water down and turned to him, “Take your own advice. You don’t know her but it’s okay she’s over and you’re screwing? Whoa slow down, killer.” I turned to Alex, “You’re like the fifth girl this month. Makes you wonder if he cleans his sheets, huh?”

I took my keys off the counter and headed towards my car. I needed a break from my best friend. I just started driving with no destination until I texted her.

ME: Let’s meet up. I’ll come to you.

She was reluctant. She said she was busy but we both knew it was a lie. I had to settle for texts.

ME: Sorry about Tyler. Ignore him. You aren’t some rebound okay? As soon as I bumped into you I knew I wanted to know you.

HER: Six years is a long time. You must be heartbroken. You have to heal.

ME: I’m bummed but I’m not devastated. I’ve seen you more in two days than I’ve seen her in months, okay? We were trying to hard to make it work.

HER: What do you mean?

ME: All we were good at was having sex. We didn’t talk anymore. We didn’t wanna see each other. We weren’t being there for each other anymore.

HER: Still…

ME: Still nothing. So what we got wasted and fucked. We made it right - we hung out, talked. We didn’t bail and call it a regret.

Y O U R P O V

I didn’t text him back at all. I had class to focus on and avoiding Brody who was waiting across the street to make sure I wasn’t being held hostage by a stranger. I pretended not to see him in the meantime.

Making a violent work place for my Dad wasn’t an option so forgetting Dylan ever happened was my only option left.

I loved Brody and that hurt enough being rejected for something so lame. I can’t imagine Dylan’s heart being rejected after six years worth of memories. For the next two weeks I kept to myself, Alex, school, and Starbucks. Those were my GPS markers and I realized how lame I was but it kept the organ in my heart from breaking.

My dad was actually home one Tuesday night which was odd considering he had a lot of night shoots lately. I was heating up some soup when he sat down at the island inquiring about Dylan.

“So what’s going on with Dylan?”

I raised an eyebrow confused, “Well that was weeks ago. Thanks for asking.”

I sat down with my soup and a water across from him at the same kitchen island as him. “No, seriously. He’s been a raging teenager on set.”

“He’s young enough. He also plays a teenager. Method acting?”

“Him and Tyler are normally full of laughs, energy. Did you guys fight? Break up? Was it the sex part…? Not everyone will be Brody.”

“Dad! God! You can reserve this conversation with Dylan on set. I’m not talking about this with you.” I stood up completely overwhelmed and pushing my soup aside.

His eyes withered down to pure sympathy, “I don’t know a lot but I know Brody pressured you… if Dylan is pressuring you…”

I let my eyes fix on him while I spoke, “You can’t have issues with sex when you have no comparison. And we didn’t break up because we never dated. Look, I don’t know what his tantrum is about. I haven’t spoke to him in weeks.”

Abandoning my dinner entirely, I tossed my MacBook on my bed and closed my bedroom door behind me. The chirp immediately jolted my head towards the open computer showing Alex was trying to FaceTime me. Once I hit accept, I saw Tyler next to her once I was paying attention.

“Girl! Where have you been?!”

“School, Starbucks, home. Repeat. I see you’re chilling with Tyler still…” Maybe giving Alex a GPS marker was to just make myself feel better.

She must have been on her phone because he fell out of frame and was moving, “You probably don’t wanna hear this but it’s like going really well. He’s so sweet. Let’s be real… a total babe too. He’s been staying with me. He has to escape Dylan for while.”

“Why is everyone concerned with Dylan? And telling me?” I groaned between my words, sighing too heavily after.

“Girl. You happened. You left him without any word or explanation.”

I shrugged, “Talk to your new man. He’s the one who pulled Dylan from his room to tell him I was a bad idea. I just agreed.”

“Well he’s been acting crazy. Being a diva on set, giving Tyler attitude, booking up with random girls and drinking. It’s crazy! Completely downhill as far as Tyler has told me.”

“Well he can’t act like a child because one girl blew him off. He’ll survive. Girl, I gotta write a paper. I’ll text you tomorrow.” I closed my computer so fast I felt the fire ride up my neck into my cheeks. I was embarrassed and a little in love with being his downfall.

Brody pressured me to give him every ounce of me but not having me didn’t ruin him either.

The next morning I stopped at Starbucks for a venti iced coffee before class. I could feel my eyes burning and watering at the exposure of the LA sun from not sleeping. All I did was turn and turn, physically wrestling my decision to not even give Dylan w chance.

My only morning class was a lecture too as if I wasn’t already struggling. Sitting in the back I hid in plain sight when about 30 minuets after a packed class was losing focus the old, heavy, door sounded. I couldn’t see without glasses but I heard his voice and instantly slipped deeper in my seat.

Shit. Dylan.

He interrupted the teacher, “Hey, um sorry sir it’s an emergency. Life and death.” He raced up the stairs to me after scanning the room and I hoped my blending in skills finally worked.

I could hear the entire class was whispering, clamoring, trying to place his familiar face.

Am I literally the last person alive to not watch Teen Wolf? Really?

He kneeled down whispering, “Hey. Can you come with me? I pulled a lot of Teen Wolf strings to find your classroom.”

I closed my MacBook quietly before swallowing my pride, “Dylan. I’m in class.”

He grabbed my bag, “And? I just got you a hall pass.”

I didn’t move so he turned to the class, addressing them like he was about to make a speak. “Hey guys. I’m Dylan. I play Stiles on Teen Wolf on –“

I grabbed his arm urging him to stop. “Fine. You win,” as I got up leading him outside. Soon as we were safely in the hallway I asked him, “Mind telling me what this about?”

He shrugged, “I wanted to see you. My car is over there, blue Jeep, hop in.”

I sat in the bucket seats of his car, climbing inside the same car I parked next to the day I ran into him. “Heard you’re being awful to everyone.”

He played shocked well, mouth open and almost laughing because he knew it was true. He said, “Me? Nah. I’m always a peach.” He smiled big and started his electric blue colored Jeep. After driving 10 minuets in silence he said, “Okay. Caught me. I was a dick to everyone… I didn’t wanna stop knowing you okay? I don’t like being the guy who fucks for the sake of getting off.”

I was shocked he felt that way. He must of saw how shocked I was because he continue, “Okay, calm down. You don’t have to be so shocked. Your dad is our produce, he doesn’t tell you things?”

“Not about the cast and sex…”

Dylan pulled into a small local shop, “I refused to do a sex scene in Teen Wolf. They added it for ratings. Not for the character development.”

I was now even more shocked. His job is to act, really anything, and he refused because of personal morales. We both got out and I asked him, “If we weren’t wasted would you still have had sex with me?”

He opened the door to the shop for me, “Kissed you sure but not sex. Welcome to my favorite restaurant. We’re going on a real date so you can reject me like a normal person.”

I couldn’t help but smile some, he was smooth and he view on sex was genuine. Similar to mine instead making myself fit into someone’s box. We found a small table in the corner with a large window and he started ordering everything when half way through he turned to me, “Can I order for you? Do you want anything or just me…?”

I laughed knowing he was anyways. “So Alex and Tyler…?”

Dylan laughed, “This month. I mean no offense. Girls like the abs and the wolf status then get bored and leave. But yeah she’s been around. She was on set the other day too.”

“Two divas on set, wow. My dad was complaining and trying to blame me for your behavior. Somehow our not existent relationship is effecting you. He even asked if we had an argument.”

Pushing himself closer to me, “I may have lost it a minuet. He’s a hypocrite! She’s on set, new, they don’t know each other and fucking like bunnies. I actually like you and he tells me it’s a problem? Fuck off, bro. We have bad timing, isn’t that every romantic comedy?” I laughed seeing him fired up was funny as anything. “Least your dad thinks I’m boyfriend material.”

I laughed again the food arrived my mouth salivated at how perfect a meal this was. Our conversation felt endless. Everything from his sister’s journey on coming out, his parents, worrying about the future.

After we made it back to the car it was hours later. Both of us settling in the car he turned to me, his hand reaching out to touch my leg. “So I shouldn’t be asking you this but how’s adjusting to life post virgin?”

I nearly hugged myself feeling very vulnerable at the time, “It’s different… before I could focus but now I’m like distracted constantly. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch. Anything can distract me and I’m all of a sudden I’m… you know.”

He jumped in and finished my sentence, “Horny?” Putting his hand on my thigh and gently squeezing, “You gotta get it out of your system. Your body knows it’s new.”

I got excited just from his hand so much I quivered inside against the butterflies. “So I’m just suppose to sleep with anyone until I’m use to it and it’s not distracting anymore?”

I was being sarcastic but he turned to me even more, “No. Just with me. My place or yours? Let’s avoid our best friends judging us.”

[bibibbbb99]

Traits/personalities in a partner that turn genshin men off (Kaeya, Scaramouche, Albedo)

I hit my head today and suddenly stopped being an art tumblr for a solid moment.

Disclaimer:

Somebody probably did this already, but I want to give my own input (if some information is similar to another person, just know I did not copy or reference them)

Just my opinion, you’re allowed to have your own take on this.

Also some of these traits can turn off multiple characters as well as the ones I have yet to write for.

I am not good at spelling or grammar or proof reading, so please excuse me.

If anything I said offended anyone, please tell me so I will not repeat the same mistake twice

Having some of these traits is not an issue (such as low self esteem bc, same), but excessiveness is not good bc y’all great and amazing and somebody must tell you how awesome you are. 

Kaeya:

Overtly low self esteem (especially if you’re very vocal about it too)

Pessimistic

Mentally weak

Why I think so:

Kaeya technically do not have a single solid support beside him that he can fully trust and rely on, as his relationship with diluc is strained and he has always been putting up a front to the knights of favonius

A strong pillar where he can be openly vulnerable and fully honest will make him feel safer and stable in Mondstadt

Someone who openly deject themselves constantly in front of him, will reinforce his belief that you are inadequate in reassuring and protecting him from his own fears and insecurities (even if you’re abilities and strengths are actually greater than what you say you are. The important thing is that you are continuously enforcing the fact you’re inadequate due to low self esteem, which may perpetuate Kaeya’s own low self esteem and actually make him believe you are weak)

Kaeya will probably be forced to also put a mask of confidence he has as Calvary captain towards you, to balance out the relationship. He can only perform so long before this relationship deteriorates and he gets exhausted of standing on this stage of pretence publicly and privately.

Scaramouche:

Brutal and insensitive honesty

Lack of attention to detail/not reading between the lines

Self absorbed

Why I think so:

Some of these are kind of self explanatory lmao

Scaramouche is also another character who is deeply insecure and fears abandonment

His prickly and arrogant personality is a testament to those vulnerabilities

If you frankly comment on something mildly embarrassing he did, an error he happen to make, or maybe something wrong he said, he’ll be pissed off. As that means you clearly see him as an imperfect and flawed partner.

Openly commenting on his flaws with brutal honesty also shows that you don’t care about his extremely delicate dignity and self esteem he tried so hard to protect (basically he thinks you don’t respect him in anyway, in terms of his effort in building this strong facade)

Scaramouche is subtle with his words, mannerisms and affection, there’s a lot of reading between the lines and guessing his true intentions when pursuing a relationship with him.

If you don’t attempt to look at his underlying motives and desires, the relationship will probably progress frustratingly slow or not happen at all. He wants something but he doesn’t want to openly say it, it hurts his pride. He will not relent and admit his true thoughts and feelings, so a perceptive and understanding partner would be much appreciated.

The last one is kind of obvious but Scaramouche wants to be adored and cared for, given his history of isolation and rejection. It’ll bring him so much joy if his partner is caring and attentive to his feelings and wants. A selfish and inconsiderate partner will never be up his alley, after all it is just a repeat of his past and he doesn’t want any more pain and misery.

Albedo:

Lack of a passion or hobby

Unwillingness to try new things/lack of curiosity

Do not appreciate beauty of surroundings

Extremely bad temper/quick to anger 

Why I think so:

Another self explanatory one I’m sorry

It is canon Albedo is extremely passionate about the things he is interested in, and loses attention if he do not care for it.

A partner who do not have their own hobbies, passions or quirks won’t interest him at all, as he has nothing new to learn from you, and you do not motivate him in any way or form.

There really won’t be much conversation if the partner is not an eager learner, as Albedo can talk on and on about things he is interested in (and that’s how you get to know him), if you don’t ask, he won’t exactly say much either.

Albedo is an artist and I can assume he appreciates the beauty or interesting aspects of his environment, if his partner show an absence of curiosity or an eye for beauty for the mundane, or actually peculiar things in the environment, he would be… bored. He may even be frustrated you do not understand or appreciate the things he care about at that time. He wants to share all his joys and happiness with his significant other, but what is the point if his partner do not care for it?

Lastly, I think someone with a bad temper/quick to aggregate will turn him off. Albedo is used to looking after children, to him, only children succumb to such volatile emotions. If you start throwing a fit over small things, he will probably look at you blankly and begin to see you as childish for throwing a tantrum. Nobody wants to date a child, that’s illegal lmao.

[shion-yu]

Day 18: My body is one big ache

1,307 words for @sicktember. TW very detailed description of a tonic clonic seizure. I have witnessed seizures and try to do my research, but please note everyone is different so this won’t be accurate in all cases.

If Cliff could magically exchange one issue for anything else, it would be the seizures. The focal ones and the absence seizures weren’t as horrible, although they still bothered him and were far from pleasant. But when they developed into full, tonic clonic seizures was when life truly felt like it couldn’t get worse.

Thankfully they were rare, largely contained by medication. His brain scans weren’t getting any worse, Cliff’s doctors told them, and that was good news. The bad news was that after his coma, even with all the recovery he had done, he would likely always have some lingering issues. Migraines and muscle cramps were two things that would never go away. The third, although nobody could really say whether it would be forever, was the seizures.

Cliff took his antiepileptic medication religiously each day before bed and a smaller dose each morning. And usually, this kept him under control. It was when he was sick that they tended to come, especially when combined with stress or a migraine. Today he checked off two out of the three if those prerequisites: Cliff was sick, and stressed out because for the past two days he hadn't been able to see Elliot.

A virus had hit the city hard that winter, and Cliff and Elliot’s weren't able to avoid it. Especially not after Alex and Ryo went down with it the day after they'd spent several hours as a group of four in the studio. Ryo had called that morning, clearly panicking as he apologized profusely that he and Alex had both woken up with fevers. After that it was pretty much just a waiting game.

It hit Elliot first, and he tried to quarantine himself in his studio where they kept a spare bed. This worked for two days, during which Cliff left plates of food and drinks outside the door for Elliot and texted him like they were lovers separated by tragedy. By the time it hit Cliff, though, Elliot was already feeling better other than a lingering cough. As soon as Cliff texted him, ‘It got me,’ Elliot abandoned the guest room and went straight to Cliff.

Naturally, it hit Cliff harder than it had anyone else. Right away he spiked a fever higher than Elliot ever did, the flashing 103.1 on the small thermometer screen as alarming as the fact that Cliff’s oxygen kept dipping low. Elliot wondered aloud if they needed to go to the ER, but naturally Cliff rejected that idea. So Elliot just stayed close, monitoring Cliff for worsening symptoms and trying to keep him on track with medications.

The morning after Cliff went down, he woke up just knowing he was going to have a seizure that day. Knowing didn’t make it any easier - in some ways, it made things worse because he was so terrified of what was to happen. “I don’t want to do this, not now,” Cliff groaned tearfully. Elliot tried to comfort him and administered his pre-ictal dose of rescue medication, but it wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.

“I’m scared,” Cliff whimpered, “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here,” Elliot told him, keeping a hand on Cliff’s back where Cliff could feel him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

When it started, Elliot started a timer on his phone. He kept Cliff on his side the best he could and caught the drool that ran down Cliff’s jaw with a towel. “It’s okay,” Elliot kept saying, his voice gentle but firm as he repeated this over and over. “It’s okay, it’ll be over soon. Remember to breathe, Cliff. I’m right here. Breathe. I’m here.” He had seen this many times before, but still, it never got any less terrifying.

Thinking wasn’t a good description of what was going on in Cliff’s head when he had a seizure. He couldn’t really form any coherent thoughts, but general feelings were overwhelming - of terror, of not being able to breathe, of every single muscle in his body cramping uncontrollably. The feeling that it would never end, especially.

It was a very, very long four minutes for both Cliff and Elliot both before Cliff’s body stilled and he went limp, although sharp tremors still went through his muscles like shock waves. It took another two minutes for him to come to, at which he gasped loudly and grabbed at Elliot blindly, groaning. Cliff’s lungs burned from his body forcing all the air out of them, which made him choke and splutter as he tried to take huge desperate breaths between cries. It was scary to see someone who was usually so guarded make those loud, upset noises.

“I’m right here,” Elliot said, used to the way Cliff woke up being almost as hard to watch as the seizure itself. Cliff was confused, always fearful and sometimes combative when he woke up. This time there was no hitting, but there was a lot of gagging as Cliff sucked down huge mouthfuls of oxygen. One silver lining was that Cliff hadn’t lost control of his bladder this time, so Elliot didn’t need to coax Cliff to allow him to change the sheets too. That was always difficult when Cliff was already so distressed.

Cliff whimpered, making meaningless, scared noises akin to a wounded animal. Clover was at the end of the bed, watching seriously. She never seemed to know what to do when Cliff had a seizure. “It’s alright, girl,” Elliot told her. “It’s all over.” He gently rubbed Cliff’s back. “It’s over, baby.”

Slowly, Cliff opened his eyes. “Hot,” he groaned loudly. “M’really hot.” About half of the time, this time included, Cliff’s body would completely lose its ability to regulate its own temperature after a seizure. He’d run an absurd fever, although it would quickly right itself. During these minutes, though, Cliff felt like his body was actually on fire between the heat and the pain of all of his muscles contracting and cramping over and over. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Elliot was already prepared with wet rags, which he placed on Cliff’s body to cool him down. Cliff looked at him, eyes struggling to stay open but full of distress even so. “I’m not gonna have another one, am I?” He said in a slurred but desperate voice.

“I don’t think so,” Elliot said. He had no way of knowing this, but it was better to lie. Cliff continued to take heaving breaths that caught in his throat, causing short coughing fits that brought up a lot of saliva. Elliot helped him contain it onto the towel, murmuring, “That's it, keep taking good deep breaths.” Cliff had given himself an asthma attack from panicking in the aftermath of his seizures before, something that was absolute hell when he was already in so much pain and so confused. They knew Elliot counseling Cliff, reassuring him even if he said the same thing fifty times, helped avoid that. He cradled Cliff’s head in his lap and continued to wet the damp cloths to cool him down.

Eventually Cliff’s body grew more relaxed and he stopped struggling to breath so much. He was impossibly exhausted, every tonic clonic seizure beating his body worse than running a marathon he hadn’t trained for would. “Rest, baby,” Elliot said gently. He wiped the tears from Cliff’s face and leaned forward to kiss his hot forehead. “It’s over. You did so well.” Usually, Cliff would sleep for an entire day after a grand mal seizure. As much as Elliot could, he wouldn’t leave Cliff’s side during this time in case there was a follow up seizure, or Cliff woke up confused as he often did.

“Hurts everywhere. Don’t go, El,” Cliff mumbled.

“I know. I’m not going anywhere,” Elliot reassured him. He’d reassure Cliff over and over, all day.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

One thing I've noticed is how some people are always villainizing and demonizing Runaan and Ethari, seeing them as nothing but the worst, most awful parents in the show. Saying things like "they don't deserve Rayla or her forgiveness at all." They don't love her or even care about her at all," "she was never important to them." "She deserves better parents who actually love, appreciate, and defend her." While I admit, in all honesty, that I've enormously condemned both of them for the choices and decisions, how they contributed to Rayla's losses, sorrow, and heartbreak, but I feel that it's way too extreme and way too harsh.

But I also believe that they've been obviously hurting and suffocating from the brutality of their horrendous punishments for their own failures. Because I feel that Rayla will be incredibly unforgiving towards them because at some point, she'll have to deeply process and sincerely express all her harsh, angering, heavy, resentful feelings towards Runaan and Ethari. Maybe during these two years, Rayla has probably convinced herself so deeply that they never loved her nor cared about her, and even if they're effortlessly apologizing to her, pouring all heart and soul into every single apology, her mind tells her things such as "disregard every apology they made, do not believe them nor trust them." "Why should she believe them if they never believed her?" Something along those lines.

Just wanted to give my own speculation because, yes, Rayla's had her mistakes, but Runaan and Ethari had even greater failures and bigger wrongdoings. Because I know that the show will address Rayla, not only confronting her own true sentiments towards both of them, but Ethari and Runaan being hit where it really hurts them them the most: with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

This is in no way me hating on them. I adore Runaan and Ethari, but I don't want the show to let them off the hook for how they technically abandoned Rayla because they need to be held accountable and responsible for what happened.

In your honest perspective, BTQ, how do they even go about reconciling and repairing their relationship with Rayla? I genuinely hope that there can love, acceptance and forgiveness again, especially from Rayla. It'll be very hard for her, but I believe all 3 of them will overcome this. I have faith in them.

Apologies for the long post. Much love, fam.

Hey, thanks for your honest thoughts. I think we might have different perspectives on the idea of atonement/forgiveness/redemption, but that's okay. Since you were kind enough to share your thoughts, let me return the favor!

At the heart of my perspective is simply this: the more catholic we are in trying to shame and guilt people into admitting they messed up, the less likely they are to ever admit out loud that they were wrong (even if they want to). And that fear of rejection, of being shamed, keeps real change from getting started.

We get to be mad when we are hurt. We get to advocate for ourselves, to defend ourselves. And Rayla might have some feelings about her dads that she wants to yell at them about. But maybe she doesn't. Maybe she's not even looking back, or maybe it's been resolved and we'll see it in a flashback with Ethari or something. We don't know yet. She hasn't really spoken on the topic, and it might take her a while to do so.

The issue of intent should matter, too. TDP is a hopepunk story, and that carries certain themes that I'd love for more people to look for and enjoy:

resilience - as forgiveness or growth

imperfection - familiar to everyone, messier options and solutions

earnestness - folks are just folks, no evil masterminds

good and evil - not a state of mind but a series of choices

community - everyone still cares for their group/others

As we wait for S5 (and the rest of the series) to drop, it feels a little risky to me to pin so much personal expectation on it to deliver extremely specific emotional rewards like this. S5 was written, gosh, maybe a couple years ago? I don't know exactly, but it's been a minute, and we just got S4 - and its expectations - last November. Animation is a really really long process!

I'm content to wait and see what happens next. TDP doesn't work for me, and they don't have to do what I want, and it's too late to make any S5 changes now anyway, so I will take what I am given and appreciate it for the story it is, actually. I love this show, and I respect the people who work hard to create it. And there's really nothing more I feel I need to add to that, so that's where I'll stop.

Okay, I lied, one last thought! Bahaha.

Rayla already knows what it's like to be mistrusted by her dads. She did get angry at them about it.

For about 10 seconds.

Ethari confessed, and Rayla forgave them and had tea with them, snuggled up safe and sound, at home where she was loved.

It wasn't a big deal. They talked about it, they were honest, and they found a way to move forward together as a family. It took 3 panels - a single page - of BH to address it.

If there is a next time for confrontation, it will probably go at least a bit differently, if for no other reason than Rayla is several years older and has matured as a person. But this is her precedent for conflict resolution with Runaan and Ethari, specifically.

If everyone wants it to work out, it'll probably work out. If someone wants to be Right, or to be a Victim, or to make Drama, then that'll probably happen instead. But I covered my expectations up in the hopepunk stuff, so that's what I'm expecting from anything similar: everyone will at least want to resolve their grievances.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Author Discussion - Summer Nights Part 4

I ONCE AGAIN FEEL THE NEED TO JUSTIFY MY DECISIONS AS A WRITER, AND PROVIDE SOME CONTEXT THAT WAS NOT GIVEN IN THE INSTALLMENT BECAUSE OF THE PERSPECTIVE.

You can read Summer Nights, (Installment 8 of Physical Paradox) on AO3!

I will say, it's a bit refreshing to see people upset with Rinko instead of Gojo 😂😂 but also, my rejection sensitivity came out to play and this is my way of telling it to go fuck itself 😂🥹

Obviously, for many, Rinko's behavior was far from ideal. But it was human. Just like I've emphasized from the beginning: these characters are human. They fuck up and they make mistakes, and they don't always react the way they should.

It's also important to remember that this was Gojo's perspective of the events. So her laughter at him admitting his tattoo kink felt a bit exaggerated because he was embarrassed and felt awkward. As readers, we don't know what was going through Rinko's head. But I can tell you that it wasn't her just purely mocking him. It was disbelief. Part of her thought he was joking because it had been so obvious that he'd been turned on by her tattoo. She didn't think he was serious in not being sure about it being a kink, but as soon as she realized he was, she backed off and quit laughing. We didn't get to see that explicitly stated because Gojo was stuck in his own head at that point and didn't notice that she'd quit laughing.

I think people kinda expect Rinko to be perfect sometimes. To always react the right way and make all the right decisions because she's strong and intelligent and acts so confident in this AU. But everyone fucks up.

Sometimes I think we forget that while Rinko is very emotionally aware, she also has ✨abandonment issues✨ and self-worth issues. In Another Level, we saw Rinko, at least twice, trying to pull away from Gojo after an embarrassing moment or after a fight because it was her attempting to disappear before she could be rejected. She's still like that in this AU. But she doesn't have that constant overhead of possible sudden death forcing her to mature.

She gives Gojo a hard time about childhood trauma, but oh boy, does she have some fucking trauma. Because Naobito still called her an unwanted mistake for most of her life. Naoya still calls her a half-breed from a whore because he's a piece of shit. While she knows she's not those things, she's very sensitive about her self-worth and being made to feel like someone sees her as less than a person.

Gojo implying that her friendship was worth nothing more than a means to get sex really hit at something deep inside of her. And while she knew logically that he wasn't like that, she was buzzed, and those words triggered a part of her that she'd developed out of self-preservation.

We didn't see those thoughts or feelings (a purposeful choice on my part) because we only saw Gojo's perspective.

But Rinko was embarrassed. She was embarrassed that she let herself get so close. And, she'd even had the thought in the previous part that when he smiled at her a certain way, she could forget he was a fuckboy. She clearly likes him a lot more than she wants to admit to herself. And when he's sweet and affectionate, it makes her want to lean into the feeling and indulge in the idea that maybe he'd want more than just sex. She was still buzzed and he'd helped her into her room earlier that night when she was drunk. And it gave her alcohol-filled brain a little bit of hope that he might want something like a relationship if she ever slept with him.

When he accidentally implied that being a good friend meant he thought she should sleep with him, it ripped her out of that trance, and she felt stupid for letting herself think that he might want more from her.

Does he? Yes. He does. But even Gojo doesn't fully understand what that means because he's a dumb lil fuckboy who's never had a relationship before. He thinks he just wants to be friends with benefits, not a relationship. He literally had that internal conversation with himself. He doesn't realize that what he thinks of as a FWB, would really be a relationship.

Gojo has been giving her some mixed signals, too. He flirts with her a lot. Calls her pretty, digs for compliments for himself, and teases her just as much as she teases him. It's their dynamic that they've established, and it works for the most part. But it gives weird, mixed signals on both of their parts because again he is a dumb lil fuckboy who doesn't understand his own feelings just yet. He will. But it's gonna take a little longer.

In this AU, Rinko can already see that she would tip over and fall head over heels in love with him because he's so sweet and kind and caring with his friends. Part of her, in the back of her mind, hoped that maybe he'd say he wanted to give actual dating a try. But instead, he said he wanted to be friends with benefits and confirmed her belief that he would never see her as anything more than a friend he wanted to have sex with. She believes that a FWB would just end with her broken-hearted and without a friendship that she's come to value.

And, if we're all being honest with ourselves, she wouldn't have believed him if he had said he wanted to give a real relationship a try. Gojo was right in thinking that she would just believe he was trying to get in her pants. Because she has those super fun self-worth issues.

So, after feeling so embarrassed and humiliated, she decided that the safest bet was to stop being friends with him. To avoid him and Geto so that she wouldn't be embarrassing herself further by acting clingy when she drinks, letting her drunk lil mind imagine that he'd want more than casual sex for a while and disappear once she developed feelings that he wouldn't ever return.

Would he return those feelings? Yes. Does he already? Most likely. But Rinko doesn't know that.

So, she intended to cut things off at the knees and withdraw before he had the chance to abandon her instead. Was it selfish? A bit. But it's what she felt she needed to do to protect herself.

Oh, why did she open the door? Why did she listen to him? Why did she decide to stay friends with him? Because she likes being friends with him. She knows he's not a bad person. And she selfishly doesn't want to lose him, either. Seeing him care so much that he would apologize, embarrass himself in the process of doing so, solidified that he was a friend she genuinely wanted to have in her life.

We're going to see a very different side of Rinko in the next installment. An angrier, more bitter side of her that's somewhat justified and a whole lot traumatized.

I've said before that Naobito is sort of trying to make amends with Rinko in this AU. But she is not receptive to it. She hates him. She hates him more than she hates anyone except Naoya. Because she's waiting for the shoe to drop. For Naobito to decide that he doesn't actually care about his unwanted mistake. That he doesn't want a relationship. And she's bracing herself so that when he does decide that, she's not left picking up the broken pieces of a little girl who was called an unwanted mistake until she was eighteen. She's waiting for the man she knew the majority of her life, who did and said nothing to scold his son after he broke her arm over an argument when they were teenagers, to reappear.

We're going to see that Rinko in the next installment. And it's not gonna be all that pretty or graceful. But it'll be so human and flawed.

To give a lil spoiler, the next installment is going to be called Family Trauma. Because there's a hell of a lot of trauma to be addressed, and we're playing with the little phrase 'family drama.'

It's gonna be pretty angsty, I think. Still trying to get it written, honestly, but I'm excited for you to see it!

[emeraldracer]

It will be kind of a personal post, and I contemplated if I should write this, but it bounces in my head for some time now, and maybe it'll be relatable to some people. I value fiction in my life a lot, as probably any person who went through some shit in their childhood and found a shelter in stories. I also learned to overcome difficult things through looking at characters with a similar experience. That's why the rejection of so called problematic hits me so hard.

Armand's relationship with Marius is a goldmine of therapeutic stuff for people like me. I do empathize with Armand in general, but Marius as a figure who's done him plenty of harm however still was loved by Anne and is loved by Armand is what I dig in often.

Maker/fledgling dynamic mixes a lot together as it is (the show is actually very good at exploring this), but with these two it's done to the extremes. I don't see it as a bad thing personally, because I'm in the category of people who were emotionally abandoned by their parents and have issues with not seeking the parental type of love from their partners. Hence plenty of consequences that it entails. You look for someone older who very possibly will abuse your trust. You struggle with responsibilities in a relationship. You don't have boundaries. What Anne did by sticking roles of a parent and a partner to one person can be quite helpful to understand the pattern. There's a lot of bitterness on top of it all that I do recognize: the addiction and the doubt on Armand's part, particularly when they talk religion. You depend on what they give you, you let them scramble your brain on the regular.

Why I think Marius still being lovable to the characters is meaningful? The most realistic thing about this is that people continue to have feelings for their shitty parents and crave the warmth they didn't receive.

"Master, I love you, but now I must be alone," I said. "You don't need me now, do you, Sir? How can you? You never really did."

Usually the family, if they aren't complete assholes, will still have people that respect them, too. I appreciate that Anne wrote Marius ignorant and not purely evil, because it's the most common thing to be harmed by ignorance. I've said it before and I'll repeat it many times later, I'm sure.

I love the church dialog in the beginning of TVA (the quote above), because Armand there is contemplative and tries to distance himself from Marius, despite being emotionally wrecked. Comparing to how mindlessly needy he was in Venice it's a progress. He grew, he knows how to say no, even if I would like it to be firmer.

The answer to why they are talking at all is quite obvious to me, too. Fandom wrote a lot about how being eternal might affect the desire to mend things even with those who caused you grief. But again, people choose to do it with parents all the time.

And (!) by QotD Armand chooses his partners quite differently: from Lestat - a Marius's carbon copy, to Daniel with a completely different dynamic. The fact it can be seen as a reversed thing is a separate conversation, though.

I totally believe these plotlines go beyond bedroom scenes and fetishizing and magnetize the faulty nature of such a thing. As an afterthought, another similar line Anne did is Lestat having a thing for Gabrielle. And I know we like to laugh about it, but it's not a leap of imagination to compare this to infantile boys who cling to their mothers and expect their girlfriends to give them the same treatment. The fact he is forced to let Gabrielle go is a perfect conclusion to this, if you ask me.

[fratboykate]

Man, I really am almost reaching the conclusion that therapy should not only be free but mandatory for everyone. I’ve been living with my laundry list of mental illness diagnoses for more than half my life, so I’m pretty self-aware and in tune with my shit, but even then, having someone who can hear your shit and tell you “yes…and…” is SO VALUABLE. It’s also helpful when you have continuity of care. I’ve been with my current therapist since 2020. We see each other every Wednesday at 7pm. Religiously. It’s the one thing I’ve dedicated myself most to in probably my entire life, where I don’t flake or try to get out of it for dumb reasons. And tonight is proof of why. I broke down what I’ve been feeling this week and they hit the nail on the head SO HARD/read me for filth to such a degree that I’m almost a little stunned.

She was basically like “What you’re feeling seems very logical when you consider [XYZ going on in your life]. All that could be feeding a bipolar swing, BUT ALSO…remember you have Severe ADHD *and* BPD. You have a pretty intense “rejection sensitivity” and “abandonment issues” combo. Whenever you even perceive being abandoned or rejected in the slightest, your brain’s natural reflex is to go into full “fight or flight” mode. You can have very intense emotional reactions to things like these. If this was a thing that for a very long time was a consistent source of dopamine for you/that you got pleasure out of, yet suddenly the way you're interacting with it (or the way it's interacting back at you) has changed, then…you're going to have a huge impassioned response to it.”

This is why I give them my money willingly lol. Like…it doesn’t fix the problem, but I understand where the feelings are coming from better. Ultimately that helps me manage them more efficiently. Go to therapy, fam. It’s worth every damn fucking penny.

[turquoisepearl]

Changing your concept of self when you have been rejected

So you have been rejected. Maybe your SP isn't ready for a relationship (with you) and used you for sex. Maybe your boyfriend dumped you. Maybe you got fired from your dream job for seemingly no reason and now you can't get a job. In this post I will be talking about events in your life that hit you so hard you're left not even knowing who you are anymore. Events that can completely shatter your view of the world, yourself and even reality.

Whatever happened basically made you feel small and less than. Your confidence and ego took a huge hit and now you're left feeling worthless and picking up the pieces of a broken heart.

I was in that state of being for over a year so trust me, I'm well acquainted with it. On this post I will be listing things that I did/realisations I had that helped me change states from feeling worthless and abandoned to identifying as someone magnetic and "selfish" (in the sense that I now put myself on the pedestal). This will also be an unorthodox law of assumption post as I'm not telling you how to manifest your SP or job back. I'm taking you through the journey of a dramatic self concept change.

Stage One: Dealing with intense emotions

This is the stage where your emotions are at an all-time high and at their rawest. Please let yourself feel this stage out and be gentle with yourself. I made the mistake of not properly doing this and instead threw myself into "I HAVE TO MANIFEST SP IN 7 DAYS OR ELSE I'M A FAILURE". Doing this broke my heart over and over again during that year until I reached such an extreme low that I had no other choice but to pull myself out of it.

A lot of people mistake Neville's teachings and think he didn't want you to feel negative emotions. That is false. He said by not letting yourself feel them, you are just bottling them up which leads to disease and pain. You need to release them. Cry, scream, punch a pillow, do something but never bottle it up. You can manifest even when going through difficult emotions or dealing with mental illness. But first the pain needs to be processed.

When this is done, I suggest doing things that help you process what you are going through. Journal, meditate, talk to your friends and family, go on a walk and connect with nature, join a community online about this issue, start therapy or even get a new hobby. DO NOT DO ANY OF THESE THINGS WITH THE INTENTION OF MANIFESTING SOMETHING IN YOUR REALITY. Take the time to focus on YOU.

Stage Two: Taking a break + EIYPO

Ironically, taking a break from manifesting content, reading Neville, trying to manifest was the key to creating my new self concept. As I mentioned above, focus on YOU. It's so easy when you're heartbroken and desperate to spend all your waking hours affirming and all your unconscious hours doing SATS, picking apart your brain and trying hard to manifest something rather than actually work on yourself.

Here is a simple truth about our reality that I know y'all have heard many times but a lot of you don't understand: Everything Is You Pushed Out.

If EIYPO but you don't even know who you are or even like yourself, what do you think happens to reality around you? A lot of you try to use EIYPO but you get confused and manifest the opposite. This is because you are hoping for the reality you want while living (in your inner world) the reality you don't want. I would tell myself that me affirming and visualising was bringing SP back. He had to right? I mean, EIYPO! While I was holding out hope for that reality, my mind was occupied with the feeling and thoughts of him abandoning me, him hooking up with other girls (all of which came true later), being a player, not caring about me, etc. Quiz time: if EIYPO/my inner reality creates, which reality do you think manifested? The one I hoped for or the one I unknowingly focused on? Go ahead and tell me in the notes.

Taking time for yourself will not only help you heal but will also slowly change your reality. When I started to feel more peaceful on the inside, my reality reflected contentedness and peace. When I started feeling more beautiful and sexy, I received more compliments and attention. When I started feeling lighter, life stopped being so dead serious. Manifestations will slowly start trickle in like water through a leaking roof.

What I mean with work on yourself is to put yourself on the pedestal. You are the most important person in your life so focus on yourself. Stop breaking promises you make to yourself (such as waking up earlier or eating healthier), start slowly incorporating self-care activities and do fun things with yourself. Be intentional in all that you do. If you haven't recognized your own value, how will the outer world do so?

Stage Three: Catalysis

"Catalysis (/kəˈtæləsɪs/) is the process of increasing the rate of a chemical reaction by adding a substance known as a catalyst"

Here's a fun little twist that would have given me a heart attack last year. While I was working on myself and slowly seeing results, I found out SP was hooking up with my friend (she didn't know about our history). When I found out about this, it was like something in my brain flipped a switch. I was disgusted by him and the fact that he thought he coule fuck my friend while wanting to be friends with me and keep me around. I felt disgusted at myself for having gone out of my way to help him and do things for him knowing he overlooked me and started sleeping with her. But for the most part, I felt sad due to realising how much I betrayed myself. I mean, this is the guy I abandoned myself for?? I was in shock.

These feelings revealed to me that my old self concept that I had inhabited for so long now felt unnatural to me. I was not her anymore. The woman I wanted to be had become clearer and clearer over the months as I was working on myself. She was feminine, soft and yet strong. Confident, knew her worth and didn't put up with bs. She was creative, smart and funny. Sexy with a fit body and long hair. But this incident, although it was everything I did not want to manifest with my SP was the catalyst for manifesting my new self concept. That night I found out, it was like this idea I had of my ideal self turned into stone. The minute I turned my back against him and that version of him, I had let go of all limitations and became her. It was automatic. It took absolutely no effort. Why? Because I had already set this manifestation in motion months ago. If the smaller manifestations were the water droplets that leaked through a bad roof when it rained, this incident was a rush of water as the entire ceiling collapsed.

Once I had become her, I lost all attraction to him. I created a story that he was insecure and felt bad for hurting me. And my new self felt like it was time to cut him off. So I did. I unfollowed him everywhere and it made me shine even more. I was like a fucking beacon of light and like a moth to a flame he tried to come back. First I deleted him on IG and he tried to check up on me. Once I removed him everywhere else, he tried adding me back twice until he got the message and removed his friend request.

I had no intention of becoming his friend and since I had to prioritise my own wellbeing, he had to go. I was loyal to myself and that rewarded me tenfold.

Stage Four: Enjoying your harvest

Well here I was. I had spent so long feeling empty, worthless and like a victim. And now I was standing here feeling so at peace. I'm now the most important person in my life and my reality is showing that. I have now a deeper understanding of The Law. The Law is not about doing SATS every night for a year and hoping for the best. The Law is about embodying who you want to be. I realised that my desires were never as important as my state of being. Men like my SP are a dime a dozen, this journey was never about him. This journey was about me wanting to feel important, chosen and loved. Even if he gave all of that to me, it wouldn't have worked out since I did not accept it. My self concept did not match that desire.

Stop taking The Law and life so seriously. You are the source, you don't have to work hard. All you have to do is to be clear on what you want and appropriate it. You want a thousand men in your roster? You just have to appropriate what it feels to be someone magnetic, sexy, charismatic and unforgettable. You want to be married to one person? Stop spending your waking hours reading "How to manifest 101" and choose to feel like the most loved, romantic and confident version of yourself. Techniques are great but don't be like me and do a million techniques just to never change your inner world. And for the love of everything in this world, STOP doing things in order to get a result in the outside world. Let me repeat: STOP DOING THINGS JUST TO GET A CHANGE IN THE OUTSIDE. The outside world literally doesn't matter. The inner world, what thoughts, emotions, beliefs YOU choose to experience is ALL that matters. To see a change you have to actually change yourself. Stop saying "I'm hot, sexy and attractive" and then get anxious when men don't find you hot, sexy and attractive. You should feel that way about yourself DESPITE what the outside world is showing.