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wisdomrays · 3 years ago

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QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Are Muslims Guilty of Imperialism?

This charge continues to be leveled against the Muslim world. I would like to counter it by asking the following questions:

Given the existing circumstances of 1,400 years ago, how would any one living in Makka or Madina go about exploiting his own clan and tribe? If the supposedly exploited lands and people were those of the Hijaz, which were poor, unfruitful, and barren, who would have wished to invade or exploit them? It is ludicrous to level the charge of imperialist colonialism against the most noble-minded Muslims, who risked their lives to spread the message of Islam; who spent the greater part of their lives far from their children, families, homes, and native lands fighting armies ten or twenty times their size; and who felt deeply grieved when they did not die on the battlefield and join the earlier martyrs for Islam. We ask ourselves what worldly gain they obtained in return for such struggle, deprivation, and sacrifice!

Those who invaded, occupied, and exploited others with the worst intentions (and results) of imperialism are power-hungry individuals or nations. To mention a few: Alexander the "Great" and Napoleon, the Roman empire and Nazi Germany, the Mongol armies unleashed by Genghis Khan and the colonizing armies unleashed by western Europe, Russian dictatorship (whether czarist or communist) and the American empire (whether "manifest destiny" or "making the world safe for democracy"). Wherever such conquests came and went, they corrupted the morality of the conquerors and the conquered, causing chaos, conflict, tears, bloodshed, and devastation. Today their heirs, like bold thieves who bluff property owners to conceal their theft of that very property, turn to besmirching Islam, its Prophet, and his Companions.

True Muslims have never sought to exploit others. Nor have they let others do so where Muslim government had jurisdiction. At a time when Muslim armies were running from triumph to triumph, Caliph 'Umar said: "What befits me is to live at the level of the poorest Muslims," and he really did so. As he took only a few olives a day for his own sustenance, who was he exploiting?

After one battle, when a Muslim was asked to take the belongings of an enemy soldier whom he had fought and killed, he said: "I did not participate in the battle to take spoils." Pointing to his throat, he continued: "What I seek is an arrow here and to fall as a martyr." (His wish was granted.) While burning with the desire for martyrdom, who was he exploiting?

In another battle, a Muslim soldier fought and killed a leading enemy who had killed many Muslims. The Muslim commander saw him pass by his dead enemy. The commander went to the head of the dead soldier and asked who had killed him. The Muslim did not want to reply, but the commander called him back in the name of God. The Muslim felt himself obliged to do so, but concealed his face with a piece of cloth. The following conversation took place:

-Did you kill him for the sake of God?

-Yes.

-All right. But take this 1,000 dinar piece.

-But I did it for the sake of God!

-What is your name?

-What is my name to you? Perhaps you will tell this to everyone and cause me to lose the reward for this in the afterlife.

How could such people exploit others and establish colonies all over the world? To speak frankly, those who hate Islam and Muslims are blind to the historical truth of how Islam spread.

Let's look at what exploitation and imperialism are. Imperialism or colonization is a system of rule by which a rich and a powerful country controls other countries, their trade and policies, to enrich itself and gain more power at the other's expense. There are many kinds of exploitation. In today's world, they may take the following forms:

• Absolute sovereignty by dispossessing indigenous people in order to establish the invader's direct rule and sovereignty. Examples are western Europe's conquest of North and South America, as well as Australia and New Zealand, as well as the Zionists' conquest of Palestine.

• Military occupation so that the invaders can control the conquered nation's land and resources. One example is British colonial rule in India.

• Open or secret interference and intervention in a country's internal and foreign affairs, economy, and defense. Examples are those Third World countries who are manipulated and controlled by various developed countries.

• The transfer of intellectuals, which is currently the most common and dangerous type of imperialism. Young, intelligent, and gifted people of the countries to be exploited are chosen, given stipends, and educated abroad. There they are introduced to and made members of different groups. When they return to their country, they are given influential administrative and other posts so that they can influence their country's destiny. When native or foreign people linked to exploiters abroad are placed in crucial positions in the state mechanism, the country is conquered from inside. This immensely successful technique has enabled Western imperialists to achieve many of their goals smoothly and without overtly rousing the enmity of the people they wish to subjugate. Today, the Muslim world is caught in this trap and thus continues to suffer exploitation and abuse.

Whatever kind of imperialism they are subjected to, countries suffer a number of consequences:

• Various methods of assimilation alienate people from their own values, culture, and history. As a result, they suffer crises of identity and purpose, do not know their own past, and cannot freely imagine their own future.

• Any enthusiasm, effort, and zeal to support and develop their country is quenched. Industry is rendered dependent upon the (former) imperial masters, science and knowledge are not allowed to become productive and primary, and imitation is established firmly so that freedom of study and new research will gain no foothold.

• People remain in limbo, totally dependent upon foreigners. They are silenced and deluded by such empty phrases as progress, Westernization, civilization, and the like.

• All state institutions are penetrated by foreign aid, which is in reality no more than massive financial and cultural debt. Imports, exports, and development are wholly controlled by or conducted according to the exploiter's interests.

• While no effort is spared to keep the masses in poverty, the ruling classes become used to extravagant spending and luxury. The resulting communal dissatisfaction causes people to fight with each other, making them even more vulnerable to outside influence and intervention.

• Mental and spiritual activity is stifled, and so educational institutions tend to imitate foreign ways, ideas, and subjects. Industry is reduced to assembling prefabricated parts. The army tends to become a dumping ground for imperialist countries, for its purchases of expensive hardware ensure the continued well-being of the latter's industries.

We wonder if it is really rational to liken the Islamic conquest to imperialism, which brought disastrous consequences wherever it went.

The victory of Muslim armies never caused a great exodus of people from their homes and countries, nor has it prevented people from working by putting chains on their hands and feet. Muslims left the indigenous people free to follow their own way and beliefs, and protected them in exactly the same way it protected Muslims. Muslim governors and rulers were loved and respected for their justice and integrity. Equality, peace, and security were established between different communities.

If it had been otherwise, would the Christians of Damascus have gathered in their church and prayed for a Muslim victory against Christian Byzantium, which was seeking to regain control of the city? If Muslims had not been so respectful of non-Muslims' rights, could they have maintained security for centuries in a state so vast that it took more than 6 months to travel from one end to another?

One cannot help but admire those Muslim rulers and the dynamic energy that made them so, when we compare them to present-day rulers. Despite every modern means of transportation, telecommunications, and military back-up, they cannot maintain peace and security in even a small area of land.

Today, many scholars and intellectuals who realize the value of Islam's dynamics, which brought about Islam's global sovereignty and which will form the basis of our eternal existence in the Hereafter, expressly tell us that Muslims should reconsider and regain them. While conquering lands, the Muslims also were conquering their inhabitants' hearts. They were received with love, respect, and obedience. No people who accepted Islam ever complained that they were culturally prevented or ruined by the arrival of Muslims. The contrast with the reality of Christian Europe's conquests is stark and obvious.

Early Muslims evaluated the potential of knowledge and art in the conquered lands. They prepared and provided every opportunity for local scholars and scientists to pursue their work. Regardless of their religion, Muslims held the people in high regard and honored them in the community. They never did what the descendants of the British colonialists in America did to the American Indians or in Australia to the Aborigines, the French to the Algerians, or the Dutch to the Indonesians. On the contrary, they treated the conquered people as if they were from their own people and religion, as if they were brothers and sisters.

Caliph 'Umar once told a Coptic Egyptian who had been beaten by a Makkan noble to beat him just as he had been beaten. When 'Umar heard that 'Amr ibn al-'As had hurt the feelings of a native Egyptian, he rebuked him: "Human beings were born free. Why do you enslave them?" As he went to receive the keys to Masjid al-Aqsa, 'Umar visited and talked to priests in different churches in Palestine. Once he was in a church when it was time to pray. The priest repeatedly asked him to pray inside the church, but 'Umar refused, saying: "You may be harassed by other Christians later on because you let me pray in the church." He left the church's premises and prayed outside on the ground.

These are but a few examples to indicate how Muslims were sensitive, tolerant, just, and humane toward other people. Such an attitude of genuine tolerance has not been reached by any other people or society.

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letarasstuff · 4 years ago

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Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

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msfcatlover · 4 years ago

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Can you give the bullet points for that Hollow Knight Ludonarrative dissonance essay so us who played the game can fill in the gaps?

Sure thing!

First and foremost, I know many people are familiar with the term “ludonarrative dissonance,” which is when the mechanics of a game run counter to the themes and sometimes the plot of the story being told. On the opposite end of the spectrum, and far more rarely talked about, is “ludonarrative harmony,” which is when the mechanics of a game support the story being told or even tell a supportive story of their own!

I am very firm in my belief that in a quarter of a century playing video games, Hollow Knight has the best ludonarrative harmony of any game I’ve played.

Here’s my primary example: the condemnation of the Pale King’s actions, and how it ties into the original possible endings of the game.

The Pale King’s failure is the great final tragedy of Hallownest. He saw the end coming, knew he could not defeat the Radiance again, and did not want his people to suffer. He determined he needed a being of pure Void to contain the Radiance, but believed that any emotion would lead to a flawed prison. So, he created the Vessels by the hundreds, letting them struggle to the top of the Abyss, and cast each one of them back down into the depths for the “flaw” of being children with actual emotions. We don’t know how he determined this, but when he finally found one that seemed properly emotionless, “truly hollow,” he took that child and sealed the gate behind them, locking the player character (henceforth referred to as “Ghost” in this first draft ramble-essay,) and who-knows-how-many-other Vessels to fend for themselves in the depths.

You already know this. And you already know that child was not given a name (though I will be referring to them by the fandom nickname “Hollow” from here on out,) was purposefully neglected, taught only training and their purpose for existing in the hopes it would keep emotions and desires from taking root. But Hollow did have desires; specifically, Hollow just wanted their dad to be proud of them. When Hollow sacrificed their mind to hold the Radiance and was imprisoned in the Black Egg, after the Dreamers gave their own minds to keep it sealed, the prison was faulty. An unspecified amount of time later, the Radiance’s influence was able to leak out in the form of the Infection, and the kingdom of Hallownest was destroyed.

(The Pale King often gets pilloried by the fandom for “letting” that happen by showing any level of caring for the child. This is the wrong conclusion.)

The game begins with us playing Ghost, having at some point escaped from the Abyss and (seemingly) having lost their memories in the wilds outside the kingdom. It is as Ghost that we track down the Dreamers and slay them, opening the Egg to face Hollow and put an end to the plague, though how exactly that happens and what the outcome is depends on your choices throughout the game.

As a fellow Vessel, you can take Hollow’s place. When Hollow is slain, Ghost absorbs the Radiance and the Egg reseals itself.

Using the power of the Dreamnail, you can enter Hollow’s mind and fight the Radiance directly, driving her back into hiding for the foreseeable future.

If you have the Voidheart charm equipped and choose to fight the Radiance, you become a “higher being” yourself and are able to slay her for good. The kingdom is free of the plague, and Hollow even survives and has another chance at life. (This one is, by the way, known as the “True Ending.”)

And here we finally reach my argument, and I can stop regurgitating old information. Because these endings and what you need to achieve them is what finally solidifies just how wrong the Pale King was. Wronger than he ever knew.

He must have thought the Vessels less than people, or he would not have been willing to kill so many. But he would not have rejected so many of them if the Vessels weren’t inherently feeling, thinking creatures like any other bug in the kingdom — none of them were “truly hollow.” Children, left to die in the dark by the hundreds. The greatest sin he ever committed.

We know he did, on some level, care about Hollow, but still chose to neglect them in hopes of stunting their emotional growth. That he believed the sacrifice of one Vessel and three of his most respected advisors (give or take Herrah, who’s whole deal with him is kinda... weird,) to eternal imprisonments was better than letting the whole kingdom fall to the Radiance’s vengeance. That the ends justify the means. It’s his last thought, still echoing in his corpse when we find him on his throne: “...No cost too great...”

But the ends don’t justify the means, and I don’t just mean because the plan failed. I mean because it was inherently flawed in its initial premise, the very assumption he built it on: that “being hollow” was the solution to the problem.

A truly hollow Vessel would not care one whit about the mission or anything else. If Ghost were hollow, there would not be a game; they would wander aimlessly, not speaking or interacting with anyone, until they finally died.

If you play Ghost as being hollow, or as close to it as you can, you’ll be ignoring all NPCs. You’ll not be buying any upgrades or equipment. You’ll not be wandering far from the central path. Why would you? A hollow Vessel should care only for their mission, find the shortest route to enter the Black Egg, slay Hollow, and be done with it. Not only does this make life much harder for you, it nets you the worst ending. The Pale King’s trap just resets, now with the Dreamers dead so none can ever try to fix the problem again, and it will fail eventually, because Ghost isn’t hollow. The very fact there is a plot to follow, a goal to achieve, means that Ghost has goals they are willing to suffer hardships to reach. Frustration, determination, and pride in success have to be assumed, complimented by the fact those are all the emotions the player will feel on this particular run.

If you want to face the Radiance, you have to upgrade the Dreamnail, and you’re not told that will be the end result when you first receive it. You have to be ambitious and stubborn, at the very least, to pursue that goal blind, or you have to really want to know what the Sage will give you as a reward. You have to experiment, going back to bosses you’ve already beaten to fight their dream versions and put them to rest, track down the hidden dream roots and clamber all over the map to solve their puzzles. For the second ending, Ghost has to have goals outside of their main mission, has to think through the concept of deaths enough to make the connection between the ghosts and the bosses, and repeatedly return to speak to the Sage for the upgrades. They have to be curious enough to even use the Dreamnail in the first place, and like it enough to want to improve it.

And how do you get the best ending? The true ending? Slay the Radiance, defeat it for good, save the kingdom of Hallownest?

You explore. You wander off the main path, root out secrets and shortcuts and answers. You need to talk to multiple NPCs, and not just speed through their dialogue to get your reward but actually think about it and remember who’s connected to whom. You meet the White Lady in the Queen’s Garden and travel down into the Abyss, both areas you never need to go to and which no one will even tell you about before you’ve been there. You throw yourself against the Path of Pain again, and again, and again, and again, with no promise of reward, just to see what’s on the other side.

To truly defeat the Radiance, you have to play Ghost as being curious, distractible, attentive, and caring. They cannot be isolated and they cannot be ignorant. And if you care enough to end up with the Voidheart, you probably talked to everyone, helped them complete their quests, tried different charm combinations and ran around the map just to see how people reacted. You probably wanted to know the secrets of Hallownest, and refused to let insurmountable odds turn you away.

In the true ending, Ghost actually has a pretty strong personality, told purely through mechanics.

Story and gameplay.

The Pale King was wrong. We’re told that, asked to look upon his actions and despair that anyone could be driven to such lengths... made worse by the fact his theory was flawed in its very foundations. Being hollow was never the answer; a hollow Vessel was always going to fail. The cost was too great, and all the awful things he did to try and stop the Radiance... it was all for nothing.

Harmony.

It’s just... it’s heartbreaking, and absolutely beautiful.

And every time I see people say Ghost can defeat the Radiance because “they’re the one who’s really hollow,” I want to rip my hair out, like how the fuck can people just IGNORE the SMOOTHEST INTEGRATION OF STORYTELLING AND GAMEPLAY I’ve ever seen in my LIFE, one of the HARDEST PARTS OF GAME DEVELOPMENT that someone probably spent months getting down to such a truly astounding finish, and somehow reach the conclusion the guy whose fuckups lead to the deaths of hundreds of children, intentional child abuse, and the downfall of his kingdom was RIGHT?!

#hollow knight #hollow knight meta #hk meta #the pale king #hallownest #games #my life #mine

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writersrealmbts · 3 years ago

Text

Take This Road

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For road trip. You've taken an unusual turn in your road trip, and your new passenger is the primary cause.

Warnings: casual discussions of arson and murder

Posted: 07/31/2021

Tags: Jungkook x reader, sort of mafia au? sort of gang au?, road trip au

idk what genre this is: 1,503 words

A/N: This one was really fun

Too many snacks.

You had too many snacks for one person.

So...was it fate that brought your passenger?

Or was it the fact that he shoved someone under your tires as you were driving past?

“So...remind me again where we’re going to dump this body?” You asked.

“He’s not dead.”

“Yet.”

“Yet. If he does die...well, there’s a nice floating bog not too far from where I live that could work. Or I could use him as a decoy body in a housefire.”

“Oooh, I know this one,” You chirped, turning the volume up and singing along with the radio.

Your passenger, the one that wasn’t dying, was soon singing with you.

It did strike you that maybe you shouldn’t be so casual about the fact that you were transporting a dying person with the person who had tried to kill him using your vehicle, but honestly...you kind of were guessing that the guy you ran over may or may not have been abusive and you didn’t really feel like asking.

“Such a good song,” Your passenger sighed. “Oh, I don’t think I told you, but I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Jungkook, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry to change your plans.”

“No problem, really. I was kind of bored. If you want any snacks, feel free to grab any. Any but the chocolate covered pretzels. Those are mine and I will shove you under my tires.”

“Understood. So, should I explain why I tried to kill him?”

“I mean, if you like. Do I need to turn here?”

“No, it’ll be the next one. So, that guy is actually a loan shark. Except, when you can’t pay in cash, he takes people.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. I was hoping he’d be helpful and tell me where he sent my friends, but...well….” He glanced back as the other man began to groan softly. “Oh. He’s waking up.”

“You tied him up, right?”

“Yeah. I owe you a roll of duct-tape and some zip-ties.”

“Don’t worry about the zip-ties. I’m not really even sure why I had them. Anyway, he took your friends?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been trying to track them down ever since. And then he told me tonight that one of them had died before he even sold them and I guess I saw red.”

“Well, I’d be concerned if you thought my car was purple or green.”

“True,” He tried a few different snacks before settling in with one. “Anyway, if he died, no big. If he lives and tells me what happened to them, awesome. I’ve got enough leads to carry on without him if I have to. What about you? You’re taking all of this surprisingly well.”

“He kind of struck me as an abusive bastard, to be honest. And that’s while looking at him half-dead on the road. But nah, I’m just sort of wandering around. I recently quit my job, and I’ve been on a road trip in the interim before my next job starts.”

“What’s your new job?”

“I’m working for Taiji International. Personal secretary to one of the higher-ups.”

“Isn’t that the one with suspected Mafia affiliations?”

“Possibly. I could probably poke around and see if they have any idea about your friends for you.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “It looks like he might live.”

“Have you ever been to Keirishiro?”

“No. My parents always told me it was full of Mafias and gangs.”

“Exactly. He’s probably affiliated with some group. Which means they’re probably after you.”

“Probably….”

“So, we put him in your place and burn it down. They’ll find out it’s him, no problem, and then there’s just the question of where you went. No one would expect someone so wholly unconnected to you to be hiding you, or helping you.”

“But the fire….”

“Is the easy part. Frito’s bag near some outlet or appliance. Leaves no trace. Set these aside.” You pulled the bag up and tossed it at him.

“What about your road-trip?”

“Oh, I thought we could go to Keirishiro after burning your place down. That’s where my job is. You can stay with me. We’ll work on disguises for you, and I’ll find out if my work is associated with a Mafia or not. Then we can go from there. Hopefully they’re not associated with this piece of work.”

“You grew up in the Mafia, didn’t you?”

“Nah. I just spent way too much time working customer service.”

“Oh, I love this song,” He turned the radio up again, jamming to the song on the radio.

You thought the trip ahead of you would be quite pleasant with Jungkook for company.

“We’re going to pretend we’re dating, right?”

You hummed. “Actually, we might need to pretend we’re married. I sort of lied and said I was getting ready to be married which was why I wanted so much time before I started this job.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just going to say, ‘oh, it fell through and I was so heartbroken’ but a fake marriage would suffice.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me. With any luck, even if people know about me they may not know what I look like, so I might be able to pass as someone else. Then I’ll be sure to sell the part. And when the time comes, we split amicably.”

“Works for me. Go fifty-fifty on chores?”

“Mmmm, sixty-forty, I might not be able to swing as much for rent as you.”

“Ah. Between jobs?”

“Kind of. Something about endangering coworkers.”

“Oof. Yeah. We’ll see if we can find someone to forge an identity for you, that way you can get a job if it’s safe to show your face.”

“I might know a place. Got any CD’s?”

“CD player is broken and the last CD put in was a kids CD. Don’t touch the CD player. On the one hand, I know twenty children's songs. On the other hand, I would like to throttle whoever broke the CD player because I know twenty children’s songs.”

“Got any drinks?”

“In the cooler, behind your seat.”

“Ah!” He unbuckled and reached around, getting drinks for both of you. “I’m thinking: maybe instead of burning my place we just clean it out and dump him in the bog, whether dead or alive. That way we don’t draw unnecessary attention to me.”

“Fair. Okay. Then where am I going?”

“Stay on this road for another...five miles?”

“Map in the glove-box.”

He pulled it out, unfolding it and taking a few moments to gather his bearings. “Yeah, about five miles, I think. It’ll be the third road on the left.”

“Okay. Feel free to mess with the temp controls, I tend to keep things cooler than they need to be.”

“I’m good. Might channel surf, though,” He said, waiting until you had nodded to start trying other stations on the radio.

“You have a license?”

“Definitely.”

“Great. We can take turns driving, then.”

“Works for me.”

“Uuaaaghhhh...wh--what?”

You glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Oh dear.”

Jungkook quickly got up to deal with the passenger. “Didn’t expect him to wake up.”

You sighed. “Poor soul, he just didn’t know what hit him.”

“Better than he deserves,” Jungkook muttered, holding up a notebook. “I forgot to mention, I got his ledger from him. There are lots of names in here.”

“Ugh. A bog is almost too good for him.”

“Almost,” Jungkook agreed, sliding back into his seat. “You understand the danger we’re getting into, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” You gestured to your backpack. “Front pocket, there’s a bag with some jewelry in it. There should be two rings. They were my parents. But they’ll do.”

He followed your instructions, pulling them out. He slipped your father’s onto his ring finger. “Fits well. Here you are, my wife.”

“Why, thank you, husband,” You said, taking your mother’s ring and slipping it onto your ring finger.

“So...what happened to them?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, they’re fine, but my father can’t wear rings because they make his fingers swell and my mom broke her ring finger so her ring didn’t fit anymore. They tattooed rings on their fingers instead.”

“Ah. So...your family is alive...and you’re still okay with this?”

You considered what to tell him. “My parents are private investigators.”

“So, this is….”

“Definitely not something they would want me doing. They’ve never been a fan of me sticking my nose into dangerous situations. But...you know. When both of your parents are private investigators….”

“It’s in your blood. Cool. I’ll follow your lead then.” He smiled, kind of peeking down at the ring. “I’ll be a supportive husband.”

“And I will be a loving wife,” You answered, sharing a smile with him. “This could be a lot of fun.”

“It really could.” Jungkook grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at the road ahead. “Next road.”

“Right.”

You looked forward to where this journey led you.

#btswritingbingo #jungkook x reader #road trip au #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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cornacopicimagines · 5 years ago

Text

best of friends │t.h

pairing: single dad!mob!tom holland x single mum!reader

words: 9k (oh god, i’m so sorry)

warnings: SMUT, swearing, praise kink, oral (female recieving), slight violence, mentions of verbal abuse/ degration & rough sex if you squint

summary: Theo y/l/n and James Holland are the best friends that only 8-year-olds can get, their parents though are a little less happy with their lives. For James' dad; Mob-King Tom, he can't seem to catch cupid's arrow. Better yet, he refused to even let the stupid cherub let it fly free. For Theo's mum; y/n, it's her confidence that shakes her love life until there's nothing there. So it was meant to be.

a/n: at first i hated this fic (i still sort of hate the first part) but i think it’s really grown on me :)

masterlist

part 2

━━★✼☆｡

y/n smiled as she waved off the last group of kids, the small children giving her tight hugs before running off to their parents. She truly loved her job; she couldn't ask for anything other than the life she has right now but something has always been devoid. Alas, being a primary school teacher with an 8-year-old son can keep you busy enough to forget about your past problems.

"Muuum," Theo dragged on as he danced around one desk lazily, "when are we going home, I've got some cartoons to watch," he said snappily, y/n debated on whether she should call her son out on his attitude.

"Soon, you little devil," y/n replied, still happily dismissing her students. Seeing as most of the kids had gone or having a chat with their parents, y/n took that as a sign to pack up her classroom.

"I think Molly has a crush on me," Theo told y/n with a wide grin on his face. She stared up at him with a matching smile.

"Really, how do you know that?" y/n asked cheekily, she waited for her son's answer but only got a shrug and a sigh. She chestily laughed as she started to pack up her bag. "That's not an answer little man!"

"Ask James, he agrees with me," Theo defended.

"You two have really been making a ruckus in my classroom, I should probably split you two up," y/n falsely threatened as she slipped on a small touch up of her pale red lip gloss.

Theo immediately ran to the front of her desk with sad eyes, "please don't mum, we'll be extra good," Theo lifted his pinky finger to wave in her face, "I pinky promise."

y/n stared down and captured his tiny finger with hers, sealing the deal. As she grabbed the rest of her things from underneath her desk, she heard the small pitter patter of an extra pair of feet.

"Hi, Ms.y/l/n" a soft worried voice called out, y/n lifted her head to see James Holland with his bottom lip trembling and his eyes filling with hot tears not daring to spill over. y/n almost jumped over the desk to comfort the young boy.

"Oh James, what's the matter?" she asked gently as she gently wiped the liquid from his cheeks.

"I was supposed to-to be picked up-p a long t-t-time ago," James told her through stifled sobs. y/n felt her heart shatter with absolute sadness for this little boy. It had been an hour since school ended, his parents must be late. "I was wondering if I could go home with you until my dad or his assistant can come and get me."

y/n knew that James's dad did some shady business. She wasn't dumb; she picked up on everything. Whenever his so-called assistant would come to get James she would always ask what he did to dress so sharply and the blonde would constantly have a different answer or sometimes he would deflect the question altogether. She also noticed the gun that lay hidden underneath his jacket and the small pocket knives around his waist. She never thought too much about it because James was the sweetest kid on the planet and he made Theo thrilled, she would not take that away from him by alerting the police to a threat that she had nothing but a hunch about.

Theo burst into a roar of excited cheers as soon as the sentence fell off James's lips. y/n shushed her son before turning back to James. "As much as both of us would love that, you can't come home with us without your dad's permission."

"Can't you just call him?" James exclaimed as he corked an eyebrow at her, as small blush arose on her cheeks; sometimes she felt dumber than the kids. As school policy goes, y/n must have a small binder with all the parents' contacts in case of emergencies.

"Great idea," she complimented as she quickly went to make the phone call. Her finger skimmed around the book, finding the last name Holland and the first name Tom underneath James's page. She had heard that name before she just can identify where. Either way, she rang and someone answered after a few rings.

"Hello?" a male voice called out.

"Hi, this is Ms. y/l/n," y/n told him sweetly. "I have James here saying that nobody has picked him up yet," she told him.

"Fuck, I knew I forgot something!" the voice shouted, y/n was 99% sure the boys could hear it, "shit, Tom will gut me like a fish," the man sounded worried and flustered with panic and fear.

"Wait, who am I exactly talking to?" she pondered.

"Harrison, I'm Tom's assistant." Harrison rolled the assistant slowly. An obvious diversion that she wasn't idiotic enough to fall for.

"Well, if it makes any difference, Theo and James have just made plans for James to come home with myself and Theo," she spoke quietly. "Would that be okay?"

The line was silent for a second or two before Harrison quickly responded, "Yes that will be fine, someone will pick him up around 6," he snapped at her before cutting off the line abruptly.

y/n stared at her phone for a moment before she stared at the boys with a wide gleam. "You're coming home with us James and its homemade pizza for dinner tonight!"

With that, the pair of boys rejoiced and the three of them walked out of the classroom and towards the exit.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his impressively large chair, his eyes never leaving the clock that lay between photos of his family and his son James. He had been in meetings all day with people that pissed him the fuck off. All Tom had been looking forward to is seeing his son and spending his time playing with James. But yet, it had been an hour since he should have been out of school, meaning he should have been home 20 minutes ago. There as a few harsh knocks, Tom instantly knew who it was.

"Got some news mate," Harrison told him before he had even entered the room.

Tom let his head lean back and a hoarse groan slips out, "it better be good otherwise, I don't want to fucking hear it," Tom spat, "I've been in meetings all day, just wanna see my son."

"About that." Harrison trailed off. Tom felt his heart stop. He instantly rushed over to Harrison's side. "I forgot to pick James up from school today and-"

"You absolute dumbass!" Tom roared. "Other Mob bosses know who he is. I can't have him walking the school ground by himself he'll get bloody kidnapped!" Tom started to ramble, he hardly ever did such an infantile act. He hadn't rambled since James was left on his doorstep with a note saying he was Tom's son and that was eight years ago!

Tom couldn't help but feel guilt rack his body, a million thoughts ran through his mind and he felt as if he was on the verge of tears, but he refuses to let even one go. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and almost sprinted towards Harrison. His hands clasped around Harrison's collar and brought him in so fast, Harrison's knees buckled at the force and skidded across the hard floor. "If you didn't pick him up, where the fuck is he?"

Tom watched as Harrison gulped loudly. Tom hated getting violent with Harrison, but with the safety of his son. Tom would mow downfield of people if it meant James was alive.

"He is with his teacher and her son. She said that I have to pick him up later," Harrison told him weepily. Tom didn't know if it relieved him to know that his son was with good hands with his teacher, who Tom had only heard good things about from Harrison or that his right-hand man let his son go off with a woman Tom has never met. "Listen, she said they are making homemade pizza and that we are welcome to join her when I go pick James up."

"Hm, pick him up when it is necessary," Tom grunted as he walked off, suddenly much calmer than he was before. Harrison regained his composure and ran to Tom's side.

"No, I think you should go pick him up," Harrison told him. Coming from anyone else, Tom would have their tongue cut out, but Tom felt obliged to let it slide after his recent outburst at Harrison. "I think it would be good for James to see his own father come pick him up for once and it wouldn't hurt to meet Ms. y/l/n," Harrison spoke the last part with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Before you scheme and manipulate your way into making me do something, you know I don't want any woman taking advantage of me- again," Tom hated saying that sentence, he hated giving James's mother the satisfaction that she broke the heart of the world's hardest mobster. That a dancer from a strip club he owned broke the one heart that was never meant to; his. Tom took it as a sign that love wasn't in his card, only single parenthood. Though deep down, Tom wanted someone else, he didn't want to sleep around with expensive strippers and high-end prostitutes for the rest of his life, he would not die with that being his greatest achievement in the sex department. He'd never admit that to a single soul.

"Come on, get back on the horse," Harrison told him gleefully, "She's a nice woman and you've always complained that all the girlfriends you've had since James have hated children, well she works with your son almost every day. There's a fucking jackpot right in front of you, mate."

Tom groaned in disapproval, "How do you even know she's single, she got an 8-year-old son, she's married" he sighed

"You have an eight-year-old and you aren't fucking married you twat," Harrison scoffed, "plus I've never seen a ring on that finger," he held up his ringer finger and swirling it in his face.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Harrison," Tom complained as he smacked Harrison hand away, "I think it's time to give up, my schedule is too busy, I can barely see my own fucking son!" Tom called out as he rested his hands on his hair, "How can I sustain an actual relationship?"

Harrison said nothing but stared at his best friend. To Harrison, Tom looked flustered, angry and tense. Harrison knew that Tom blamed only himself for the misfortunes in his life, even though all the shit that was happening to him wasn't his fault at all.

Tom could see Harrison was pondering at him. He hated it. "If I do this, will you give it a fucking rest," Tom compromised. Harrison looked at him smugly.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n stood at the messy benches of her kitchen, shredded cheese fell everywhere and a three quarterly cut pepperoni stick was about to fall off. A warm and delicious smell over the house from the full oven; it was her favourite thing. Currently, y/n was finely chopping basil and rosemary while the two boys sat at the island table, flour and sauce almost covered the entire table and the power creates a ring around the boys.

"Now, Theo do you want to tell James how to lay the pepperoni to make sure it doesn't get all soggy," y/n asked him sweetly, trusting him enough to not have to turn around completely.

"Yesmum!" Theo called out as if she wasn't in the same room. She chuckled to herself before she dumped the herbs into a bowl and came over to the table, sitting on one of the free chairs.

y/n watched as Theo taught James the perfect placing of pepperoni on the spare pizza. It was if y/n intrigue of James's father had hit an all-time high as she stared at the young boy. Before she taught James, she remembers hearing a lot of rumours about James's father from the other teachers and even other mothers about how he was mysterious and them handsome. She used to giggle at the rumours; she supposed that some lonely suburban housewives concocted the rumours, that they had nothing better to do than lust after the young bachelor because their husbands can find the g-spot.

But now that she is teaching James, the rumours seem to come alive the longer she knows the boy. She can't help but fall into the trap of her primal curiosity because of a stranger she's never even met and that very stranger could deal with a shady past or worse a shady present.

"So, James, how your dad?" y/n asked innocently. James stopped placing the toppings to talk to her (much to Theo's disapproval).

"Oh, he's awesome, I don't get to see him a lot but when I do it's amazing," James squealed happily. y/n cocked her eyebrow at the boy.

"What do you mean, you don't get to see him a lot', doesn't your dad pick you up from school every day," y/n pressed, she knew she shouldn't be asking him these types of questions but she couldn't help it and James seemed happy enough to answer.

"My dad partner picks me up, his name's Harrison, and he's the best," James smiled widely as Theo tried to get him to pay attention.

"So, what does your dad do?" y/n queered again, genuinely interested in James' answer. The little boy scratched his head a bit before shrugging his shoulders in confusion, y/n laughed sweetly. "You know how I work as your teacher-"

"And you're the best!" James cut her off suddenly.

"Thank you, but what does your dad do during the day," she spoke quietly but it appeared James got the memo.

"My dad does deals with people where he shouts at them and sometimes, I see this icky dark red stuff on him, but dad just tells me it's just paint," James replied sweetly unaware of y/n shocked face. Sure, she had her doubts and suspicions, but she never expected them to be true. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She has the son of Tom fucking Holland in her house, likely without his knowledge. She'd be lucky if Tom leaves her bloody and bruised. y/n didn't want to believe that this angelic and adorable boy has the world's most feared mobster has a father. How the fuck did she not notice the queue with all the bodyguards that come along to pickup time, the expensive stuff that he brings to class and why Harrison is always wearing a very expensive suit just to bring an eight-year-old back home.

"We're done, ma," Theo called her out of her anxiety-driven haze. She smiled sheepishly as she took the pizzas from the boys and put them in the oven. "Are you okay, mum?" Theo asked again as he crawled off the chair and went to throw the scraps in the bin.

"Yes sweetheart," y/n replied shakily. What was she going to say to him, how was she going to explain, how is she going to keep her son safe, what if she-

Ding!

The doorbell rang, the sound almost deafened her. y/n steadied her nerves and walked over to open the door. Outside stood two bulky 6'4" men and a nicely dressed one in the middle. For some odd reason, y/n felt her cheeks heat and her heart rate pick up. The messily pushed back brown curls seemed to fall perfectly in place and frame his face. Massive diamond rings laced his fingers as he slightly tapped at his wrist, that she might add was decorated stunningly with pronounced veins that made her weak.

"Um, welcome," y/n spoke quietly, the man in the middle (who she assumed was Tom) stared at her darkly before stepping inside. The warm lighting of her hallway seemed to illuminate Tom's features y/n noticed the sharp jaw, and she was just able to make out his dark brown eyes underneath the Versace sunglasses. "Hi, you m-must be James's dad, I'm Theo's mum; y/n," she extended her hand to meet his.

Since she opened the door, entrancement seemed to flow through him. Sure, it wasn't romantically at first, but the woman surely intrigued him. She had her hair tucked behind her slightly sauced ears and behind a flour-covered apron seemed to be a tight-fitting red pin-up dress, which he compliments shows off her curves nicely. Tom felt like he had to smile at her, not in a joking way but in a way that he couldn't explain. In a way that he had to smile when he saw Tessa trip over her own feet. It was adorable; she was adorable.

When he heard her speak, it felt like a breath of fresh air had hit him. He felt as if he was in his childhood home again and she was the beautiful nanny Tom would have had a crush on. Tom felt instantly out of place when he walked in. He was so used to the dark setting and furniture of his massive mansion. He was so used to walking the long empty halls and going to bed in a vacantly giant room. Now though, her home felt so cosy. The walls were tight enough to feel warm but wide enough to not squeeze you. The rooms seemed busy with colours and clothes and her kitchen was small but still seemed homey.

In an act of complete defiance to himself, Tom thought he could live here if he wanted, and he wanted to. It was so different from his regularly scheduled life, her home, her arrangement and even y/n herself made Tom feel so out of place that he had to give her all his undying attention as if she was a magnet of everything Tom needed to balance his life. What the fuck is going on with him? So he snapped himself out of it.

"Where's my son," Tom asked her. He tried not to sound like a total dick, but it was hard not to. Tom felt worse when he saw y/n flinch slightly after he snapped, "I'm sorry," Tom has never apologised to anyone other than his son, he has to get his shit together quickly.

"Oh no, it's okay," y/n smiled warmly, the apology from the mobster made her feel a little better about her situation. "James is hanging out with Theo, you're welcome to stay if you'd like," she invited. Tom felt like he had to stay, and it didn't help that when James saw him in the hallway, he started to cry and whine.

Tom immediately ran to his side, but James pushed him away and hugged Theo, which he happily reciprocated.

"No, I'm not going, you can't make me!" James yelled furiously as he turned his back to his father. Tom sighed loudly. He bent down and placed his hand against James's back.

"Come on, little man, I don't want to intrude," Tom explained sweetly, his hand rubbing small circles. y/n didn't know a man such as Tom Holland could speak that softly and sweetly; it made her want to swoon.

"He's not in-intruding Mr Holland," Theo told her quietly. Tom noticed the boy had stumbled over the hard word. He couldn't help but admit defeat and regained his composure.

"Harrison told me you were making pizzas, it's been a while since I've had some well at least homemade ones," Tom announced loudly, "so I guess we are staying."

The two boys rejoice before they made their way back to the TV and left Tom and y/n by themselves. y/n awkwardly made her way to the kitchen, and Tom dismissed the two bodyguards behind him and happily followed her.

As he walked down the hallway, he took slight notice of the different photos that hung on the walls. Most of them were of Theo, one had him in a karate uniform holding a trophy and a toothy smile while another had a photo of y/n and Theo at the park. Tom couldn't help but smile at them. Once more did he have the feeling of need for all of this to be in his life, he wanted more, correction he needed more. He squeezed through her slim doorway and stumbled into y/n's endearingly kitchen.

He had never seen a mess like her kitchen; he saw flour on the floor and sauce on the cupboards. Tom couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips as he sat opposite her.

Tom wasn't an idiot. He could see how scared he was making her just by sitting closer to her. y/n on the other end of the table was almost shitting herself, she could feel her throat becoming dry and tried her best to avoid connecting their eyes even if she desperately wanted another peek at his warm brown eyes.

Tom stared at her with guilt racking his body, "I will not hurt you," Tom told her gently and for some odd reason, he fought back the urge to hold her trembling hand as he spoke. y/n didn't believe him, she knew deep down that this is what he says to his victims before he blows their fucking brains out, until "I promise." Tom had even surprised himself with his words. He has promised nothing other than when he promised his son he could ice-cream for dinner one night, Tom wasn't sure what was washing over him but worse he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

Tom waited for her response. He waited for y/n to give him any cue to tell him she felt safe around him. Finally, y/n lifted her eyes to meet his. Tom hadn't really gotten a good look at the door. Her eyes matched her whole persona, it almost entranced him. They were young but filled with such wisdom and knowledge; he didn't know what to do. It was an obvious y/ec, but it was like he was experiencing the colour for the first time in his 27 year life.

y/n slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and Tom's heart jumped into his throat. Never has a woman had this effect on him; it addicted him. Tom spotted a faint smile on her sauce, dusted lips and couldn't help but return the favour. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this cold towards you," she spoke softly.

"Oh, it's fine. I get it all the time," Tom responded with a small giggle.

"That's awful," y/n immediately protested, her full attention on him.

"What I do is awful sweetheart, it comes with the job," he told her as he leaned back in his chair. y/n pulled back, how could she be so dumb?

Tom noticed her sudden shift in mood and cleared the air, "I don't mean to pry but is Theo's father around, I didn't notice him in any of the photos," Tom asked awkwardly, he genuinely wanted to know but immediately realised his mistake, "or is that not a talking topic?"

"No, it's okay," y/n responded with a light chuckle, something Tom desperately wanted to hear more of, "Theo's dad and I split badly and I haven't spoken to him in years," the memory still haunts y/n but she could only let fragmented pieces out at a time, "Theo has never met his father and I intend on keeping it that way."

Tom's brain started to concoct a sadly romantic fairy tale with both of them but he quickly scolded himself. Suddenly, y/n perked up. She jumped from the table, took one pizza out of the oven, and started to cut it.

"What about you?" y/n asked with her back turned.

"What about me?" Tom responded, nobody has ever asked him that.

"A good-looking man like you with a son has to be married," y/n exclaimed before placing a pizza in front of them both and calling for the boys, giving them their pizza.

"Sadly, no, I'm not married," Tom chuckled as he picked up a piece. "I had James with his mother on a whim I guess." Tom saw y/n cocked her eyebrow in confusion. "That's all I'm letting out." Tom crossed his arms and leaned away.

y/n though leaned in and batted her eyelashes, "No, you got me intrigued," y/n whined. "If you tell me, I will tell you my backstory the next time we meet."

"We're going to meet again?" Tom smirked widely, suddenly pulled into her spell. Tom saw the heat rise to her cheeks and her face scrunch up as she tried to rack her brain for a proper answer. She was gorgeous; he wanted to stare at her face for all eternity.

"O-of course," she stuttered, tripping over her own tongue suddenly. She doesn't know why she's acting like this. Sure he's a godly handsome man that is ticking all of her boxes in a matter of moments but her brain seems to keep forgetting that she's sitting just a few feet away from the King of the English Mafia. A man who could kill her in a second, still she couldn't help the primal attraction that was cursing through her.

Tom held his hand out to her. "All right darling, it's a deal," he spoke lowly. Any logical person would have kept their hand to themselves. Any reasonable educated person would not raise their hand and shake Tom's. y/n was a logical and educated woman, but not with Tom around. So she took his hand in hers and shook slowly.

"Jame's was- how do I say this? Not planned." Tom sighed as he played with the pizza in front of him. "When I first got control over the Mafia. I bought this strip club just down the street. I used to go in there almost every night. I thought if I went in it would make me feel like a true Mafia King. The Mafia King who sleeps with whoever he wants whenever he wants, but I guess I am more of a romantic than I thought. There was this girl, she was interesting, and I found her mesmerising from the second I saw her. So like an idiot I started to see her only, I bought her things, I gave her safety and let her decide in the Mob. I guess one night I forgot to put on a condom and she left me the very next night. Nine months later, James was wailing on my doorstep with a small note saying 'I am so sorry, he's yours and I can't look after him', I still remember the words on that stupid fucking note," Tom felt his voice crack, he peered over to James who was eating his pizza and pretending to fight the bad guys on the T.V, "I adore my son with every fibre in my being but I just wish things were a little different."

Tom swivelled around and saw y/n almost in tears, "I'm sorry," y/n snapped out of her emotional haze and started to wipe away some tears, "I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right, my mum was in tears for days after James arrived." Tom stared down, remembering the feelings of the room on that day, "happy tears."

y/n felt an overwhelming surge of emotion hit her like a truck. She has heard no one talk with such passion. "Wow, that's um-" she blushed, "quite a story."

Tom gave her a weak smile. He noticed the blush that bubbled to the surface of his cheeks. Tom noticed a lot of other things while she sat opposite him. He noticed the small dimples that would peak out if she smiled. He noticed the freckles that perfectly sprinkled her skin. He was sure that if he sat here for long enough, he could count every one of them.

"Is there something on my face?" y/n's concerned voice snapped him out of his lovesick haze. Tom shook his head slightly before y/n took the back of her hand to wipe the non-existing grime off her cheek only to smear sauce all over her.

"Well, now there is," Tom laughed before he leaned over and wiped the sauce with his napkin. y/n came closer to help him reach her but in the process only pushed her cleavage up, causing Tom's chair to slide out from under him. Their faces were so close, y/n felt the warmth from Tom's body wafting and swirling around her as if he was entrancing her. Problem was, she was fully under his spell now.

"Are you going to kiss my dad?" James ecstatic voice called out abruptly. y/n almost fell off her chair just from the pair eyes. Theo was standing just behind James with a smile that matched his friend as they watched their parents compose themselves.

Tom tried to piece an answer to give his son while still leaving his options open with y/n. "None of your business little man," Tom faked growled as he tickled James and Theo's bellies, causing them to run off squealing with excitement.

Tom turned around to face her, the faint glow of the kitchen made y/n look like an angel. He felt overwhelming an urge to fall to his knees and pray to her, but he slid it to back of his mind. Hoping that maybe he could do it soon.

They talked for what seemed like a second but in reality; they had been talking for an hour. Tom would give every cent away just to keep hearing her sweet-like honey voice. y/n as well couldn't get enough of him, the more she allowed herself to open up to him the more she seemed to love his company. He was intelligent, well-spoken and off the record; he was so goddamn attractive. y/n believes she was to go to the nearest church just for having him near her. Still, he made her feel safe. He made her feel something that she hasn't felt since Theo's father left her. It scared her. Her heart picked up and her brain started to overwork itself. He was just humouring her; he would leave her in a heartbeat; he's got rows of women begging to sleep with him, why would he want her?

"Oh god, w-would you look at the t-time," y/n stuttered as she rushed to get him out of the house before she broke down in tears. y/n jumped out of her chair and almost threw the plates into the sink.

Tom stood up in a panic. He was having a wonderful time with her, why was she so eager to get herself alone?

"It's only a quarter to ten," Tom chuckled as he checked the watch on his wrist. y/n didn't want to make him leave. If it were up to her, she would let the kids' sleepover and pull him into her sheets as fast as possible but her subconscious had other plans.

"I'm sure the King of The Mafia has a busy schedule," she replied as she ran to get the boys' plates and get them back to the kitchen. She was right, Tom did have a lot happening tomorrow. He was most likely going to get his hands dirty. He kept his mouth shut on that remembrance.

"Well, how about you come over to mine tomorrow night," Tom suggested. y/n stood dead in her tracks. "I need to repay you for this wonderful night." A blush formed on her cheeks.

She sighed and before she could even let a single syllable out-, "We would love to Mr. Holland!" Theo's voice shot up. His head appeared just behind her with a straight smile. Tom immediately matched Theo's, knowing y/n couldn't refuse the two of them.

"Yes, we would love to and we will-" y/n head dropped, "and we will be there."

Tom let himself fist bump the air as he went to get James off the couch. "How's 9:30 sound, I have some stuff to deal with beforehand?"

"Sounds g-great," y/n sighed. Tom quickly pecked her cheek as he went for the door. y/n turned to him in disbelief.

"Can't wait angel," Tom whispered just before he closed the door. Jesus Christ, he would be the death of her.

"He seems like a nice guy," Theo blank voice rang out. He leaned up against the back of the couch as he raised his eyebrows at y/n suggestively. she gave him a light smack on his arm.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his chair. The cloud of smoke and the sounds of ragged panting wafted over the room. Percy's head drooped low as he waited.

"Where's your fucking brother Percy?" Tom asked non-nonchalantly. His eyes never wavered off the man.

"Like I told you buffoons before," Percy lifted his head weakly, "I have no clue where my crackhead brother is," Tom glimpsed his prize. Percy's sweaty hair stuck to his head, the crusted blood started to fall from the gash on eyebrow onto his bound feet. Percy stared at him with one eye open; all he could achieve. Tom smiled gleefully.

"Don't you fucking lie to me, you little shithead!" Tom roared. His hands slammed down on the desk. Everyone to jump. Tom paced around to lean on the front of his marble desk. "I have some very important people coming in about-" Tom glanced at his watch, "10 minutes."

"I will not rat my own fucking brother out," Percy responded defiantly. Tom's patience was thinning with every tick of the clock.

"I don't want to hurt you, Percy," Tom faked a smile, "not tonight at least. So you better make this quicker than me taking a fucking piss." One of his men pulled Percy's hair back, "Where is you goddamn brother."

Percy felt the barrel of Tom's gun roughly shoved up against his temple. He fought back a tear. "Columbia, trying to smuggle your drugs into Ecuador," Percy revealed.

The door swung open to reveal a completely un-phased Harrison. "They're here."

Tom immediately straightened up. "Perfect Timing!" Tom started to his men, "get rid of him." As his men dragged Percy out of his office. Tom straightened his coat as wiped off the dried blood on his chin. Harrison chuckled lightly before Tom ran out.

"They're in the upstairs hallway," Harrison called out, but Tom was already too far gone.

The massive painting loomed over y/n. She had completely forgotten how powerful Tom was, the matter that Tom commanded respect had slipped her mind. He stood in a black suit. Like something straight out a mobster movie. she giggled to herself at that thought.

"I begged my mother not to have me painted, but she insisted," Tom called out to her. y/n jumped at his voice but softened when she saw him approaching in the same outfit as the portrait.

"Well I think you look devilishly handsome," y/n responded with a wide smile, a smile that made Tom's heart flutter. As he got closer, he noticed the absence of a certain 8-year-old.

"Where's the munchkin?" he asked as he searched around her.

"He's upstairs with James. He took Theo's hand and ran off as soon as we stepped into the door," she laughed. Tom couldn't help but smile along with her. He wondered if she let this side of her out often. Genuinely giddy and joyous. "Do you look at most women like this?" She broke his concentration. y/n stood there with her eyebrow quirked and a smirk plastered on her face. Tom begged whatever god was up there to allow him just a single kiss.

"Only to you, angel," Tom responded, his pearly white teeth shining through a wide smile. y/n's cheeks flustered and her whole face glowed red. He was pushing all of her buttons, wasn't he?

"Come upstairs, I want to show you something," Tom exclaimed as he captured y/n's hand within his. Tom led her up a small flight of stairs and into a large room. The dim bedroom had red plastered everywhere. The carpet was a soft red velvet and the sheet; a luxurious red and black silk. Hell even the walls were painted with a deep maroon. y/n looked over to him with shock. "Dont worry sweetheart, the surprise is outside," Tom chuckled before his calloused hand landed on the small of her back nudging her softly. y/n's breath hitched into the back of her throat.

y/n pushed the glass doors. The dense forest of trees sparkled in the bright moonlight. The faint glow of London's lights dimmed in the background. She knew this might not have been the most aesthetically pleasing view, but it felt more than it looked. The safety and security of the view made her swoon. "Is this a date, Mr. Holland?" y/n smirked as she sat down in the glass chair.

Tom had never heard his last name sound so sweet.

"Only if you want it to be Ms. y/l/n," he responded, quickly trying to conceal his blush.

She stared out for a moment. y/n didn't know why, but she felt like a shy teenager again. A girl sitting next to a hot guy who has no real interest in her. It was nostalgic in some sick way.

They talked for hours. Tom couldn't get enough of her. It was like she was some beautiful drug. A drug so addictive, he's hooked after one night. Every time a laugh surpassed her soft lips, Tom can't help but let his heart flutter. She, too, was quite enjoying herself. y/n let her walls down slowly but surely. The more he talked, the more she leaned. The more she felt as though this was fate. That though was a juvenile thing to even fathom. So y/n wondered what her life would have been if she met Tom before her ex. Would she be happy or would she still be silently crying to herself to make sure Theo didn't hear even a peep.

A curt knock at the door interrupted them. A middle age woman peeked her head in.

"They're both in bed," she spoke happily. "It took a while to get Theo off to sleep though."

y/n giggled, "I'm not surprised."

Tom stared at her for a moment, imagining that Theo and James were their sons, and she was his wife who always seemed to amaze him. Maybe in the near future, he thought to himself.

"Thank you Ms Smith," Tom smiled warmly at her, y/n looked over to him in childlike shock.

"You have a nanny!" y/n poked Tom in his bicep. He gently swatted her finger away.

"Less about me, angel," Tom sighed. "Now, we had a deal," Tom's eyebrow cocked, and a smirk filled his face.

y/n smiled weakly at him. I will need a shit ton of booze, she thought. She grabbed the bottle of expensive wine and poured herself a glass. She gulped it down. Then she poured another one, drinking it down quicker than the first one. Finally, one more glass of wine went down, and she was ready to open her mouth.

"Mind saving a little for me, angel." Tom chuckled lightly, y/n made work getting him a glass (and more for herself wouldn't hurt.)

"Okay, so it was my last year of high school. I had been fawning over this guy since I was twelve. Then, out of nowhere, he's pulling me into empty stalls and telling me he can't be without me and he's in love with me," y/n started, she was cut off by the man next to her.

"How could he not?" Tom quipped as he took a small gulp of his wine. y/n gave him a hard glare as she tried to steal his attention away from the flush of her cheeks.

"Anyway, it took a bit of time but like the idiot I am, I gave in. We went on a few dates; we were happy for a good while. Until those two stupid fucking lines," she felt her voice break. Her head started to feel dizzy. Like it would roll off her neck will the snap of a finger. "Maybe, I was feeling all maternal, and I told him I was pregnant. To my surprise, he stayed with me for my first trimester. He refused to tell his parents, I of course, had to confess to mine. Sometimes I think that was the first red flag. It wasn't until the middle of my third trimester things went downhill. It's normal for women to put on a little weight when they're pregnant. Obviously, he didn't have a fucking clue." y/n felt herself, get more furious and more upset with every word that rolled off her tongue. "He started telling me 'You look enormous', 'I have a fat whale for a girlfriend, 'I wish you had aborted that thing, so I wouldn't have to look at you like this'," She was in tears now, the salty liquid dripped from her cheeks onto her dress. Tom knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing small circles on her knees. "He abandoned me, right when it counted." She started him. Tom felt his heart shatter. "Everyone leaves me Tom."

"I'll never leave you, y/n" Tom reassured her, he took her shaking hands in his. y/n peered down, she shook her head.

"Tom, you don't want me," y/n sobbed, "No one does, it's okay."

"y/n," Tom hovered above her, his palms rested on her warm cheeks. "I want you, more than I have ever wanted something in my life." Their eyes met. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

y/n was in disbelief, her hands rested on his wrist. Her cries stopped as soon as she felt his thumb stroking soft circles on her cheek.

Tom still saw that look in her eyes. The look of a woman so broken by a man who never loved her, who took advantage of her admiration. Something Tom needed more than air to breathe. He was making it his mission, that y/n would not leave his home until she finally knew that not only did her son appreciate her, but he did just as much.

So, he took a chance. He bent down and encaptured her lips with his. She tasted like everything, he dreamt of. She tasted like the cakes his mother would make for him on his birthday. She was the breath of sweet excitement when he smelled homemade pancakes. It surprised him he hadn't completely dissolved at this simple touch.

y/n sat in shock for a moment. Her brain tried to catch up to his movements. He didn't move against at first. She pressed into it. Her hands gripping slightly at his wrists as she reciprocated the tender kiss. She, too, felt the satisfaction of knowing what he too tasted like. She took notes of all the little details; the taste of freshly smoked nicotine, the smell of his cologne wafted around her; the pronounced viens in his hands. She was in heaven.

Their lips moved against each other. It wasn't needy or rushed. It was steady and passionate. y/n has experienced a kiss like this in her 24-year-old life. "Take me to the bedroom," she spoke through mousey breathless moans. Tom pulled away completely at this.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you," Tom told her sweetly, y/n hands caress his cheek gently as she gave him a warm smile.

"You're not taking advantage of me Tom," she stood from her chair, never letting her eyes tear from his, "I want this."

Tom beamed. His hands snaked their way to the underside of her bum, pinching softly. Instructing her to jump, which she happily obliged. y/n could feel him, grasp at her bare thighs. Every time he touched her skin, it burned with sinful passion.

Perhaps it was the one too many wines she had downed in less than a minute or that this was the first man she's really been intimate with since Theo's father left. Either way, her skin felt so susceptible to each kiss her laid on her. Hyper sensitive to every pull at her skin. So responsive to his touches.

Tom took his time laying her on the sheets. He took his time to look at her flushed skin in the dim lighting at how she looked like something sent from God. Why God was sending him something in the first place was a question for later. As he sauntered away from her to lock the door, y/n noticed the decor until the feeling dawned on her. Was she really about to sleep with Mafia King; Tom Holland. She had only one answer- obso-fucking-lutely.

Tom tenderly pushed her onto her back, his face now level to hers. y/n thought she looked as red as a tomato, Tom would agree but wouldn't protest at all. He laid a soft kiss to her lips, then a slightly harder one to her neck, then to her collarbone. His hands snaked up her dress. His fingers clutched her hips, pulling her clothed heat closer to his already painful hard groin.

y/n watched every move he made, every attempt to bruise her skin. Tom whined quietly when his lips met the fabric instead of her flesh. y/n giggled and lifted her dress over head and onto the floor next to her.

Tom couldn't help but pull away to take a glimpse of her. Her flushed breasts hidden behind a plain black bra. Most wouldn't think too much of it, but he couldn't help himself. Tom could see her hardened nipples peeking through the material. He pulled the cup down slightly. Tom heard her hiss quietly at the sudden exposure. His lips came down to the bud gently. His teeth pulling at the erect skin ever so lightly only to flick the nub quickly. Hearing her quiet moans and praises spurred him on. He needed more.

"T-tom please," y/n whimpered quietly, her fingers tangling themselves in his messed brown curls. Tom smirked up at her.

"What are you begging for angel face," Tom asked her innocently.

y/n couldn't get a single word out with Tom's fingers dancing at the skin near her soaked panties. Even dipping underneath them for split seconds.

"Do something, with y-your," she struggled. Tom was enjoying every moment. "f-fingers."

"Your wish is my command," Tom rasped out as he pulled her panties down her legs and got between them. He let his pointer finger paint a long strip up her slit. y/n's hips buckled. "You're so wet doll, being such a good girl."

y/n could only let out a hum. Tom wanted to hear that divine voice of hers, so he blew a wisp of air against her clit making her cry out. He was lucking the boys' rooms where so far from here. "Look at me, I want to see those gorgeous eyes gloss over when I make you cum," he promised as he laid a chaste kiss to her inner left thigh. y/n couldn't wait another moment, she might explode. Slowly her eyes met his. His face was mere centimeters from her cunt.

Tom didn't take a second longer. As soon as her eyes were on him, he went in hard. His tongue latched onto her throbbing clit, pulling and sucking so hard it was audible for the both of them to fawn over. He couldn't forget about the promise he made, so his digits circled her hole delicately before he slipped two of his fingers into her.

y/n felt her whole body go numb. It was a feeling so exotic to her. Yet, here she was. Barely able to make a sentence as she tried to bite back constant moans that begged to be let out. Her toes curled even picking up some sheets beneath her.

Tom could feel her fingers pulled at the roots of his hair. He couldn't but moan against her pussy, causing vibrations in every nerve in her already sensitive body.

"Oh my god, y-yes," She let slip. y/n swears she's starting to see stars now. "F-fucking hell, you're a-amazing."

Tom allowed his fingers to hit deeper inside her with that comment. He was making her cum now, or he will blow without even feeling her yet. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happens. He pulled his mouth away from her clit with a loud pop, letting his digits do all the work. He watched her writhe and pull at anything she could grasp. God, she was so fucking perfect.

"Christ, j-just like that," y/n encouraged him, "I'm going to c-cum."

"Do it angel face, cum all around my fingers." Tom whispered to her, "let me taste your sweetness."

y/n felt her first orgasm wash over her like a tsunami. She needed to scream her heart out but quickly smothered her moan in the pillows beside her. Tom peered at her intently. To him, he was watching an angel. Seeing her cum is now his new favourite thing. Being the one to cause such pleasure within her makes him feel as though he's on top of the world. His fingers rode her through her orgasm until she hit the end. Her hair sprawled out as she tried to catch any breath left in her lungs. Hell, she was trying to regain some of her sight. Tom brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue licked them clean. Her juices tasted like nothing he's ever had before and he immediately knows, there is no way he's letting this go.

Tom stripped himself bare now. He crawled above her once more. His curls falling slightly in his face. y/n opened her eyes to see him on top of her. y/n took this moment to run her hand down his torso. Each time her fingers lapped over a muscle, she felt herself recapture her arousal. Her fingers found the base of his dick.

He was bigger than what she thought, bigger than her ex. It started her a tad when she felt his hard length. She started pumping his slowly. Tom's arms almost buckled at the feeling.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum into your hand," his pulled her wrist away from him to above her head, "and I just want to pound this sweet little cunt into oblivion." The words cause y/n to whimper, eager for him to fulfill his promise.

"Then do it," she leaned up to whisper in his ear. As she pulled back, he locked eyes with her. Utter shock and an animalistic urge filled his every thought. He didn't even give her a warning before he slammed right into her. y/n cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Tom couldn't believe the feeling. She was hugging every vein, every mark, every inch of his cock and yet so was still so fucking tight. He pulled out of her, only to ram back into her. "Fucking hell, you're divine," Tom growled, still deep inside of her. Slowly, he picked up a rhythm.

Every part of y/n's post was filled the brim by him. He hit her g-spot almost instantly. His name became a chant to her as it never ceased to spill from her lips. Each time he pounded back into her, y/n's voice became horse and rougher. Her nails dug into his bag as she clawed for support. Any support she could get from him.

Tom's been with countless women. Now he's finding it hard to sustain a sentence. He can hardly make out anything other than y/n's name. He wasn't complaining though, her tight walls constricting around with every movement. Tom wondered for a moment if he died and went to heaven and was fucking the dirtiest angel he could find.

"You look so goddamn beautiful taking my cock," he praised. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume made him almost lose his shit right there. "You feel so good squeezing around me."

Every word was threatening to her. Every word was pushing her closer to her limit. Every word was forcing more moans out of her mouth. "I'm going to cum, Tommy," she warned him.

The nickname only helped Tom lodge himself deeper and harder into her, "I am too, don't hold back angel face," he pressed a kiss underneath her ear.

y/n's second orgasm rolled over more intense the second time than the first. She pulled her head into his skin, biting and pulling to contain herself. Her legs gave out on her and flopped from his waist and quivered beside him. Tom was quick to follow her. How could he not, with how firmly she was gripping his cock. He pulled out quickly and spurted out streams across her belly. The white liquid dripping over her skin made him see stars.

He collapsed next to her, heaving and panting. y/n turned to him. She placed a long kiss on his lips, bringing his face closer. Tom happily hummed against her skin.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her fingers traced the outline of his pec. "I'm infatuated with you," he told her plainly. y/n didn't move nor did she flinch. She just stared up at him with a wide smile.

"As am I," she responded quietly. He wanted her to stay here forever, he had admitted to himself that he wanted to be near her for the rest his life. It was like she had cast some spell over him. He, though, had happily fallen for it.

In his eyes, she was a goddess among women.

━━★✼☆｡

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taurus-official · 4 years ago

Text

My partner was drawing fanart for a show they like. I overanalyzed it. They wanted me to share. This post is very long.

The show is called Bolts and Blip. It was made in 2010, and ran just one season into 2011. The initial premise I was told was that robots competed in sports on the moon to solve disputes that happened on earth.

Initially I thought this was an odd way for democracy to operate, but hey, I don’t make decisions for the government, so moon robot sports is how things were.

This intrigued me for a few reasons, such as

It takes place in a post-war era of “world peace”, in approximately 2080. Judging how things are going now, I find the concept of 2080 being after a world war very believable.

There was seemingly one democracy on earth now, and that democracy decided unanimously to settle all further disputes via moon robot sports, as stated.

Humanity was technologically advanced enough at this point to not only create robots that could play sports, but they played these sports in a large city on the moon!

My initial question was this: Do we know who built the robots?

Yes of course, its common knowledge on the moon. Just two scientists are responsible for all the robotic life on the moon, creating a number of robots in the ballpark in the thousands. This is a lot of moon robots.

There is a need for so much raw material to create even a thousand robots, enough for a civilization, NOT TO MENTION the massive city they all inhabit. Where they probably don’t get new shipments of materials on the reg, this would mean the scientists could continue making more until they ran out of resources.

However, besides these main robots, one of the scientists also created a race of at least 100 robot leprechauns living under the ground. Or, at least... One of the leprechauns.

Then, allegedly, this one robot created more than a hundred more. I do not know when the first robot leprechaun was created, but I fear for the safety of the human race if there was any interplanetoid travel between the earth and the moon while they existed.

The resources sent to the moon for the purposes of making robots would be very finite. Thus, if these scientists created the robot leprechauns before they had used the resources up, the leprechauns could apparently self replicate using the materials on the moon. This is how there became more than a hundred of them.

This may not be the case, but if a single one of the sublunarean self replicating leprechaun robots happened to board a spaceship that was heading for Earth... With a near infinite supply of resources, enough to spare on moon robot sports, the number of leprechaun robots would quickly grow. The earths infrastructure could be at risk. I’m talking sinkholes that are miles wide. Why?

Because the leprechauns were programmed and built for the moons gravity. The leprechauns create more of themselves on earth, as many as they are able to, but are still programmed for the moons gravitational density. The Earth is much heavier, and when the build their subterranean halls, they would not know that our planets density is more prone to collapse. Catastrophe.

But even that is purely conjecture, because Earth is never once seen in the show. Let me get back to what we know.

The leprechaun robots, as well as the main race of robots were all created by one man. Dr. Tommy, colloquially known as the ‘good’ scientist. The ‘bad’ scientist is called Dr. Blood, which is a kickass name 7 days a week. I will explain why there are ONLY two humans on the moon shortly.

The primary species of robots that Dr. Tommy makes participate in team based sports, interpersonal relationships, jokes, goofs, and gambits. The concept of Artificial Intelligence making jokes, playing sports, and creating bonds is not unheard of, or at least, it might not be in 2080. However, my next questions make me think these robots were not AI. My questions were:

Do the robots have the concept of death?

Do the robots ever say the word ‘heck’?

To both of these, the answer was a horrifying yes.

Yes, it is confirmed, that robots on the moon say heck. The implications of this are astronomical. I will spell it out thoroughly because lockdown has given me endless time with which I can do as I please.

Heck is, of course, derived from the word hell. Hell is the counterpart to heaven, both terms used to signify the existence of an afterlife. Where there is the word heck, there are beings that believe in the afterlife.

These robots have souls.

The circumstances in which these robots die, which they are entirely able to do because of their soul, is such: The Reformatter. To simplify, the Reformatter grinds the entirety of the robots body to scrap, which it then melts together to make household appliances. This is what happens to robots who are not ‘good enough’ in society.

What the nightmarish fuck.

Not only do the souls of the robots face heaven and hell, they also face being reformatted to become the brave little toaster if they do not serve their society.

Their society which is made by one human

Let me emphasize this; they treat him like he is unto a god. How can they not? He created them, their world. He is their father, their everything. They even built a statue of him, holding an enormous double sided wrench which is clearly symbolic to remind them.

Dr. Tommy gives life, and it can be taken away.

The method of which he gives life is a puzzlement to me. I am told that our dear Dr. Tommy refers to a robots as having a ‘Heart’. This Heart is described to me as a magical piece of leprechaun gold, so the robots are able to feel.

The robot Heart is likely a simplification. The show is advertised as a Family show, and must cater to the understanding of all ages, including small children. Breaching the topic of souls, mortality, and the afterlife likely wasn’t something the writers or creator were able to do. My theory is, the Heart is a future technology that can instill a soul into a robotic body,

Which, wow. Big, if true. At first I was boggling at the concept of manufactured souls being a technology that humanity could see in my lifetime, but then I remembered one of the three key pieces of knowledge I was initially given.

“It takes place in a post-war era of “world peace”"

....Throughout human history, one social class is legally subjected to inhumane treatment; Prisoners. Once you are in jail, internment camps, concentration camps, those that are keeping you there believe you have less rights as a person. Medical experimentation, slavery, abuse, forced sterilization, nothing is illegal.

And after a war like the doozy Earth must’ve recently went through, there must be a lot of war criminals. Those that were so engulfed in carnage and bloodshed, there was no way for them to reenter society. The newly forming singular government, if they had access to the necessary technology, may have used it on these criminals.

Think about it. The dust settles from an all out world war. There cannot be peace without someone to shoulder the blame of the atrocities. There must be an evil, if there is to be peace. So, the individuals who excelled in war and killing became the reason there was war and killing. These people are now less than human for what they’ve done. They can be treated as such.

I think this is when their souls were taken. As each warrior passed, their spirit was caught and kept. And then, in a classic move from 1788-1868, they transported all the criminals to somewhere they would never harm humanity again. Somewhere out of the way, remote, and it was the moon. You knew where this was going, they sent all the souls to the moon.

Along with a large amount of other people! The two scientists certainly did not build an entire moon colony on their own, and at this point, the robots were not even in production yet. The moon colony was made, and then the scientists began their work.

Starting with the leprechauns, who I believe were not made from the souls of war criminals. The first one may have been another scientist, the one responsible for creating the ‘Hearts’ in the first place. This is why that one knows how to create more of itself.

Then, the robots were made. There would have been a prototype, but let me focus on what the show covers for a bit.

The sports that these robots engage in is between two existing teams, complete with names, colors, and esprit d’corps. These games vary from episode to episode, some involving hang gliders, some with miniature fighter jets, some involve a battle with guns... that squirt water. The logic there is that if they are hit with the water, they rust and die. Which, okay. Right.

But a lot of the games and sports they play seem to be quite combat based. Furthermore, the robots seem to take to them naturally.

Not to mention, there are bomb mice and big laser guns as well. These robots are armed. Why the hell are these robots armed? Who thought it was a good idea? After all, these robots are clearly capable of malice still. Why wouldn’t they simply turn violent against the humans?

I think they did. Here’s my theory of how it went down.

Dr. Tommy begins using the souls of war criminals in a prototype of robot

The robots can recall their life on earth as humans, but are now trapped in metal vessels because their bodies have been destroyed

The robots begin reacting to the existential nightmare of being soul trapped

Some despair and destroy themselves

Some are enraged and destroy humans

Most of them, actually

Most of them turn their wrath against humans

The people who inhabited the moon, who created the cities, were suddenly under attack by the most skilled killers around.

This is when Dr. Tommy hits the kill switch for these robots. They are recycled, and maybe he even collected the souls again but maybe Dr. Blood took those ones.

These happenings left only two humans left on the moon. Dr. Tommy began making a new version of robots, who’s souls could not remember their time on Earth. Perhaps, in taking away everything about their humanity, he gave them the most innocence of anyone.

These robots now know that

Dr. Tommy is good, for he created them

They must contribute to the society Dr. Tommy has made for them

If they fail to do so, they will not only die, but go to hell

Dr. Tommy is the good scientist. He doesn’t want the robots to be used for evil, he doesn’t want them to hate each other. Not like that Dr. Blood, who encourages these robots who have no memory of who they were before and might be able to unlock those memories to become more warlike.

However, look at what Dr. Tommy makes them do. The robots are still using their combat knowledge, independently of their memories of war on Earth. Their knowledge is being honed and enhanced, while the repercussions of their actions are not something they are privvy to. But, Dr. Tommy is the good scientist. The robots know this, because he said so.

Or because they will be obliterated and condemned if they go against his word.

It is also worth noting that the good doctor also usually lives remote from his creations, in a little space shuttle.

In conclusion. I believe Dr. Tommy is knowingly creating an army of supercombatant robots, imbued with the souls of the most bloodthirsty war criminals, that will do his every will. He intentionally killed every human on the moon colony that he could. I fear what this will mean for the future Earth of this show.

Final notes:

These robots, once their souls memory was wiped clean, would have no gender. Gender is a construct originally created to indicate what a persons sex characteristics were. Not only is that a spectrum on humans, but robots would not be given any such characteristics, nor would the concept of gender transfer over. All the characters seem to perscribe gender to themselves though, which was not something they were given at their ‘birth’. This makes none of them are cisgender, so every robot in the show is transgender.

Further cementing my belief that Dr. Tommy made these robots for combat is that at LEAST the main characters have “super” modes, where they become even more powerful and capable of succeeding in combat. What’s the hyper-killing mode for, Dr. Tommy? What’s it for?

The humans that were killed on the moon are still somewhere, probably frozen? One joke alluded to the characters being able to purchase human body parts (a stomach) in the run of their average day. Its very possible that the human anatomy is being extensively studied by the robots. Whether this is for medical purposes, or to more accurately kill humans, or to satisfy their innate bloodlust, I do not know.

I am also told that at the end of the only season, a space ship that is also a school bus arrives on the moon! It is full of children. Which. Oh god oh no.

I understand this turned into a grimdark internet theory of a cartoon. I also believe that, without the ability to think critically, we will never be able to come to rue understanding of our own nature. It is still a cartoon. My thoughts and words should be taken with a singular grain of salt, because I am a human who is often wrong. That being said, Andrew Knight, if you ever read this, let me know what you think.

#bolts and blip #cartoon #cartoons #theory #tw

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unseelie-bitch · 4 years ago

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Season 3 Episode 1: The Princess' Ball

Oh I am EXCITED for this

Oh god okay new shots in the intro include a well-dressed man who very much looks like a human version of Scarlemagne from Kipo. Gonna go out on a limb and assume he's the new antagonist

Musa's hair's longer!! Oh it's so cute

Okay who is this blue haired lady that keeps showing up in the intro she's clearly important but gives me villain vibes

Also loving the amount of ballgowns they're clearly going to wear this season

Stella's packing for a vacation, good start

Musa "wear whatever you have" is not advice Stella would EVER take come on

And why exactly is vacation way shorter this year? You can't just say that and expect me not to question it

I think Techna's voice actor has changed >:(

Layla and Musa aren't going home? Aww...

"Hitherus" iconic

KIKO

Oh nice one Layla

Oh no Stella's getting a sungram please tell me her parents aren't cancelling on her

Oh Stella's getting a princess ball! Also "back when they still had arranged marriages" implies that Sky actively proposed to Diaspro and they were actually dating so... what's the truth lover-boy?

Oh no her dad has a suprise announcement he thinks will make her happy? What's the bet he's either pulling her out of school or has found her a husband

Aww Stella's bringing the whole squad!!

"Approaching omega dimension" with ominous music... can I assume we're either going to see the Trix or fancyboy?

Oh they're delivering three prisoners... Icy? Darcy? Stormy?

"They say it's so cold down there it freezes your heart solid" well Icy won't exactly have an issue now will she

Yep it's the Trix

Okay so Icy just woke up with glowing eyes which is a whole thing but can we talk about their frozen expressions? They not only look afraid but in pain... when were they frozen? What happened to them? I hope they're okay

Well Icy's free

Icy I'm loving your monologue but do you want to maybe free your coven sisters

Oh no she's hoping her parents are getting back together honey no

Oh my god Icy freed Darcy and Stormy and they both immediately collapsed they look so exhausted I'm so worried for them

"Only the baddest of the bad get sent here, girls" "Nice! I bet they're talking about us at Cloud Tower" I cannot stress enough that these are not Big Bad Villains they're just teenagers who don't want to be forgotten and have been abused and manipulated please can they get redemption arcs

Oh ice-laser-breathing-snakes. Isn't that fun?

Stormy actually looked terrified oh no

Blue haired girl from the intro has made her entrance and she's a dick

Pizza man is not okay with this Stella Vs Mystery Girl fight in his shop

Sorry they're... what? Please tell me she didn't actually say "Betas" like it's a flex

Oh wow her friends have a song and dance. Isn't that lovely

Okay I was willing to accept Mystery Girl right up until she was a bitch to Flora now she's going down

Techna going "snap" to emphasise Stella's insult? Iconic. Especially since she did it better than the Betas

Musa's getting her hair spelled! Excited to see it longer

Bloom and Stella are alone <3

Virtual dresses? Excellent world building

Montage!!

The Beta bitch is going to steal Stella's dress isn't she

Yep there we go

HOW DARE YOU PUSH STELLA AND BLOOM OVER

The Trix are running from the snakes oh shit

IT FROZE STORMY'S MAGIC AND SHE LOOKED SO SCARED AGAIN NOOO

Icy actually called back to make sure Stormy knew where they were going! I'm so glad they all care about each other <3

Icy please stop enjoying the icy floor the others can't deal with this like you can

Love that Icy jumped then flew into the cavern while Darcy and Stormy just fell straight down

Again, Icy is fine and gets up straight away, Darcy is hurt and crouched down and Stormy is just straight up lying on the floor please look out for the non-icy witches Icy

Oh there's sir fancyboy. His name's Baltor and I believe I've vaguely heard it

He was sentenced to eternity?? Jesus. Also implies that they would have gotten the Trix out at some point which is interesting

"Frozen dude, blink once if you can see us" okay first of all Icy his name is Baltor and it is literally RIGHT in front of you, secondly he was sentenced to eternity do you really want to try and team up with that? Thirdly iconic line though I love her

Love that Stormy's like "what if we unfeeze this guy so the snakes can kill him and we can get away" and Icy immediately agrees. These girls are pro-murder but everyone has flaws and they're cute so

Darcy and Stormy protecting Icy's back while she's using her (clearly diminished) powers to unfreeze Baltor? Even though they know damn well there's nothing they can do against the snakes? Absolutely brilliant the Trix are such a strong group I love that they actaully love each other and will protect the others at all costs

Fully ran behind Baltor and shoved him into the snakes lol

OH SHIT BALTOR KILLED ALL THREE SNAKES WITH LIKE 0 EFFORT

He's so extra I love him

He was frozen and awake for 17 years... yikes

I didn't notice his stupid little beard until now yikes Baltor please shave it

Oh he cut Icy off this won't end well Darkar has taught her not to let anyone else take charge

Baltor being like "I have no idea what any of you can do and I know I'm powerful but we've been sentenced to the same place so you probably are too. Also I'm out numbered so Imma just let you do what you want... for now" is the smartest villain-play so far

Meanwhile Stella's still trying to get her dress from Beta bitch

"Tantrum Tirade" is Beta bitch's spell so she's clearly the epitome of 'daddy's little rich girl'. Just the Winx version of Veruca Salt. Clearly Beta is for the trustfund babies without talent. Yikes

We have a name lads: Chimera

OH NO HER SPELL IS MAKING A BASKET OF PUPPIES FALL FROM A HIGH BALCONY

Watch Stella lose the dress because she's a good fucking person and won't let the puppies die

OH THOSE DOGS ARE SO CUTE

Oh shit. She's "soon going to be the princess of solaria". Shit man. Stella's dad's marrying Chimera's mother isn't he. That's the news SHIT

The gate to Tides? Oh no Baltor and the Trix can't wreck Layla's home world :(

Baltor you little bitch you could have told them the gate was re-enforced BEFORE they tried to break it and got thrown backwards

Icy might want to show off but I love how Darcy and Stormy are like "bitch do NOT bring that snake back near us"

The teamwork lads. Icy redirecting the beam so Darcy and Stormy can break the barrier? Immaculate. Also I love how Icy has started calling them "ladies" I just think it's cute

Baltor's little hops are ridiculous

"I like your style" "Back at ya Baltor" Icy I can't believe you just WINKED please stop flirting your girlfriends are RIGHT THERE

Mermaid guards!!

Okay but for real, why do you even HAVE an omega dimension gate? Like, what was the purpose? Come on

Oh Baltor's enslaving the mermaids. Christ that was quick

"How do all these guys get minions?" "I don't know but we gotta get some too" says Stormy and Icy, ignoring the third member of the Trix who's primary power is MIND CONTROL (also the Trix are so cute I'm sorry they're just adorable)

Musa's long hair is WONDERFUL

Okay Stella's new dress is actually quite cute

Musa please don't ignore your boyfriend

Are we going to find out why Bloom and Sky fought or...?

Riven brought music for Musa oh my god I can't believe I'm starting to like him... but the growth... the development... HE'S ACTUALLY KINDA CUTE NOW SHIT

"Something's wrong with the ocean" no shit Layla there's a TIDAL WAVE

RIVEN JUST SAVED A TINY CHILD AWW

Layla saving the OTHER tiny child

Oh... bye Layla! Good luck fighting Baltor alone...

"You brand them, turn them into freaks and take their power? Very cool, Baltor..." Icy PLEASE I know you have a crush but come on

Baltor's electric guitar solo is peak

#winx rewatch #winx club

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kellencclark · 4 years ago

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Honesty Hour || Kellen x Gracie

Where: Sea Change Recovery, Santa Monica, California

When: March 13, 2021

Featuring: Gracie Rothschild (dialogue provided by Tash @gracerothschild)

Triggers: Hospitalization, drugs, incarceration, abuse, mental health (depression, suicidal ideation)

Gracie was still in shock with the news she heard, she hasn't had the courage to see him in the hospital, nor was she ready to face the feelings that surfaced when she heard the news. She knew her best friends would tell her to carry on that it wasn't any of her business, it was just the fact he still held a spot in her heart that it was hard to ignore everything. So there she was, standing there looking around the place, holding a vase of flowers that she figured would lighten the room or something. "Hi," she said softly, coming face to face with Kellen.

Vito had warned Kellen that people knew where he was. Kellen didn’t want people to know about his baggage, but now it was out in the open thanks to Gossip God. He was ready to find Gossip God and knock his lights out, but first he had to get out of rehab. He was the most sober he’d ever been since age 14 and was genuinely making strides in individual and group therapy. However, he wasn’t ready to be released yet. The staff said it would be at least two more weeks before he could go home. He missed home. He missed his friends, his apartment, his job, all of it. When he walked into the visiting room and was face-to-face with Gracie, it hit him like a tidal wave how much he had missed her in particular. “Hey,” he replied, inching closer to her. He noticed the vase of flowers and said, “I don’t know if they’ll let me keep that. They don’t even let me have shoelaces.”

Gracie felt her heart flutter at the sight of Kellen, she was doing so good on trying to move on, yet it hurt seeing him in this place, how far he went down and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty for not sticking around to help him through it. "Oh...I should have asked but then again, this is my first time coming to a place like this, are they at least helping you?" She asked, adjusting the vase in her hands and suddenly felt awkward with the fact he probably wouldn't be able to take it with him. "Vito messaged me, letting me know what happened..."

“It’s fine. I never knew how strict these places were either.” He hadn’t had any access to his cellphone since coming here. He also wasn’t allowed to watch movies, TV, or listen to music. Not being able to listen to music was hell for him. “Yeah. I mean, this place fucking sucks, but I’ve been able to talk through a lot of shit. That part’s been helpful.” He took a seat across from her, frowning at the mention of Vito telling her what happened. “I told him not to do that. Man never fucking listens...” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t know what he said or how many details he gave, but... I wasn’t trying to die. It’s just... I hadn’t done it in so long that I didn’t realize how low my tolerance had gotten. Taking too much was an accident.” He felt like he had to clarify that for her.

Grace set the vase down on the table and leaned against the edge, "He cares that's why and I'm sure he was probably taken back by everything, he didn't mention much other than you being in the ER and overdosing..." Hearing him talk about how it wasn't supposed to happen, she frowned a little and sighed, "Kellen...that's the reason why I ended things with you and the fact your...daughters mother was harassing me...if I didn't, then maybe you wouldn't have ended up in this place."

Kellen buried his face in his hands. Grace mentioning the breakup brought up all sorts of emotions in Kellen. Sadness was the primary emotion. Thinking about the fact that she didn't want to be with him made him sad. The woman he loved didn't want to love him back. It hurt like hell, to say the least. But he saw that she was blaming herself for this situation, and he couldn't let that stand. "The fact that I have an addiction isn't your fault. It's not anyone's fault... well, actually, my parents fucked me up real bad, so in a way it's kind of their fault... But I'm sure you didn't come here to hear all the revelations I've made in therapy over the past two weeks." He wasn't actually sure why she came here. If he had to guess, he assumed it was guilt. He didn't want her to feel guilty though. He was in here because he made a bad choice.

Gracie features softened, she reached out hesitantly before firmly grasping his hand in hers, pulling it across between them, holding his hand between her smaller ones and squeezed gently. “No I came here to be your supporter, I want you to know I do still love you...that I will always love you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there but I’m here now, if you want me around.”

A small smile formed on Kellen’s face when Gracie took his hand. What came next took him by surprise. “Of course I want you around... but if you need to step away, I understand. I’m not exactly easy to be around...” He squeezed her hand before speaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I hid important things from you that I shouldn’t have, and I know that hurt you. Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you.” Being fully open about his feelings was something that was hard for Kellen, but his new therapist told him that he wouldn’t be able to live a happy and healthy life if he kept hiding things from people and holding onto negativity.

Gracie smiled lightly and nodded her head, "I won't be leaving unless you tell me to leave you, I want to be able to be here for you...even if we're not together...I just...want you to be okay." She said out loud, realizing that her best friends would definitely be shaking their heads at her choices, but she couldn't stop her heart from worrying over her ex-boyfriend, her heart still yearning for the same old routine she had with Kellen.

“I’m not gonna tell you to leave. But the staff is gonna kick you out at like 6:00. They’re very strict about when dinner starts...” he trailed off, realizing that he was deflecting again. “But thank you. I appreciate it, really. And even though I hate that you’re seeing me like this, vulnerable and in the beginning stages of growing a beard... it means a lot that you came out here today.” Even though they had been physically together on several occasions since breaking up, the two had not been emotionally close like this in a long time. It was scary, but it also felt right. “So is there, uh, anything you want to ask me? It’s honesty hour, nothing’s off the table.”

Gracie glanced at her wrist to realize that it was cutting close and sighed, “sorry I didn’t come earlier work and all, but I promise to stop by again—if you want me too anyways—which I understand can be a no and yeah,” she rambled out, over thinking becoming her best friend in her life. Grace stopped and thought over his question, licking her bottom lips and nodded her head, “why did...why didn’t you tell me about your addiction—I mean we’ve been dating for awhile...I said I loved you and you never thought to mention or anything about your past.”

“It’s okay. If you want, I can ask one of the nurses to give you the visiting hour chart. I get it if you can’t make it. Most of the times are during business hours.” He knew she was busy and didn’t want to inconvenience her, but he was lonely in rehab and missed her in general. He closed his eyes and sighed before answering her question. “You were just— God, you are so perfect to me. I didn’t think a girl like you would want to date an addict with a criminal record... If I had told you early in the relationship that I was a recovering heroin addict, would you have wanted to date me? If I had told you that I went to jail for assaulting my abusive dad, would you have wanted to date me?” He highly doubted that she would have.

Grace eyes faltered at his words, the fact he said she was perfect made her feel less than what she appeared to be, sure she looked like the typical girl next door and maybe she didn't have any sort of bad past or habits besides the typical chewing on her nails when nervous but in her eyes, Kellen was the spark that she wanted in her life, just not when he kept things from her. "I would have wanted to date you regardless, I dated the good boys and they're nothing like you...you made me feel love and special, you showed me more to life than the typical shit I lived my whole life. You may not think you're good but in my eyes you're wonderful." Gracie flashed a small smile at him, wanting him to understand how much he meant to her.

He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. Kellen knew that he had some positive traits, but he didn’t think he was a good person. “We also had some crazy good sex,” he noted. “Sorry, had to. Force of habit. Turns out I use humor to deflect my feelings. That’s something I learned in therapy recently. Therapy is wild.” He was learning a lot about himself in these intensive therapy sessions. “Do you really think all of that though?”

Gracie couldn't stop the laughter from escaping her lips at his blunt response, typical Kellen, although he did have a point, their sex was good and it always was a good thing to look back on when she had to turn to other ways to satisfy herself. "Do you really think I would be talking out of my ass about what i thought about you? Why I dated you in the first place, I fell in love with you and each day I was always excited to create memories."

Her laughter brought a genuine smile to his face. He loved hearing her laugh, and seeing her smile, and so many other things about her. "Grace, I don't think I'm a good person. You know this, I know this... I want to be good. I really, really fucking do, but my shit brain keeps holding me back. I never really learned how to love myself, so the fact that you can love me... it's hard to believe, if I'm being totally honest." Even when they were dating, it was hard for him to believe that he was loved by her. This wasn't her fault at all. It was his depressed brain's fault-- the brain that fed him insecurities and thoughts of ending everything, the brain that could only be silenced by addictive substances. "Do you still love me, even though you've seen how dark it can get up here?" he asked, tapping his finger against his forehead.

Grace stared and studied his facial features, she was realizing that he had more demons to deal with and never actually had to deal with the same amount of pain he's been working with. Gracie felt the corner of her lips curl up into a smile and nodded her head, "I haven't stopped loving you, no matter how hard I tried to get over you, there was always that part of me that thinks back to you and I think you nearly dying opened my eyes." She explained, "But I don't want us to get back together because of that...I want you to continue working on yourself, become a healthier version of yourself."

“Well what a coincidence. I never stopped loving you either.” He couldn’t hide that, from himself or anyone else. No matter how hard he tried to move on, his mind always came back to her. She had his heart, and he didn’t want anyone else to have it. “I don’t want that either. If you did that, I’d feel like you were pitying me... I’m going to get better. But not just because I want you back. I want to do it for myself, and for Kelsie.” He had things worth living for. All it took for him to see that was to hit rock bottom. “Do you think there’s any chance of us ever getting back together though?”

She wanted nothing more than to separate the table between them and just hug him, but she knew that it was probably against the policy of being in the facility, so all she could do was nod her head. Could they work things out and get back together, that was a good question, what if he found someone else, what if she started seeing someone else, so many questions that she had to push those thoughts away. "Possibly, but I don't want you to wait around for me, as much as it kills me to think of you dating someone new...I just want you to know it's okay if you find someone new?" It felt like a huge knot was in her throat when she said those words, felt as if someone was strangling her as she tried to appear okay.

Kellen closed his eyes as he took her words in. It was okay to find someone new. He didn't want someone new though. He wasn't sure if he would ever want someone new. Sure, he had encountered plenty of people he was physically attracted to since he and Gracie broke things off. But, even though he considered it more than once, he couldn't bring himself to sleep with someone else. He craved the physical element of intimacy, but also craved the emotional and spiritual aspects that he didn't feel with anyone else but her. "I don't know if I will. But if you find someone else, I, uh, you know, I won't stop you... I want you to be happy."

The thought of sleeping with someone else just never settled well with her, she enjoyed the connection and chemistry with a person, the idea of having a hook up was beyond her comfort. Sure there instances where she was close to sleeping with a total stranger drunk but the thought of Kellen flashing through her mind sobered her up and went home alone. It wasn't any surprise that they both wanted each other happy but were they okay with seeing the other dating someone new? Gracie knew that her best friends wanted her to explore other relationships but did she have the strength? "Thank you...I--uh...actually--I'm not seeing anyone currently...I just don't have any time," or desire, she thought and shrugged.

He inadvertently let out a sigh of relief when she said she wasn't seeing anyone else. After everything else she had just said-- about still loving him and wanting him to be happy-- if she admitted to seeing someone else, it would kill him inside. The thought of Gracie seeing anyone else in general, even in the hypothetical, hurt like hell. But when you loved someone, you had to put their wants and needs over your own. "So I guess we'll figure it out as we go along? Play it by ear?" Kellen asked, hoping that would be enough for her to realize that he was willing to wait for her.

Staring after Kellen, hearing his words and processing everything, she couldn't help but to nod her head in agreement. "Play it by ear would be safe...just you know...be up front if things don't work out, not yank each other around--I mean I'm sure you were seeing other people...beyond a date," Gracie forced out the words as she scratched the side of her temple and chuckled lightly, "Maybe we should save this conversation for when you're out of here, because you need to focus on yourself--become someone healthier."

Kellen raised a brow at her. "I haven't been seeing anyone, actually," he clarified. "I mean, if you really want to get into it, I haven't gone on any dates with anyone. I've thought about one-night stands, but never acted on it." He shrugged. Even though she said to save this conversation for later, he felt like this was something that needed to be said.

She glanced back at him, her hazel eyes dropping from his eyes to his lips before forcing her gaze away to look at her hands on the table, fiddling with the bracelet and nodded her head. Gracie couldn’t help but be relieved about that news, she too tried to move on with dates and even attempted a one night stand which turned out to fall through due to it not being her cup of tea. “I’m surprised—not that I would assume you would go screw anyone—just that, most guys just go about and sleep with someone,” she wanted nothing more than to pull his face to her own to kiss him, feel those emotions that sometimes were overwhelming for her.

“I mean, before we met, I would’ve. And I did... I guess now... eh, forget it.” He looked away, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Janice, the nurse who escorted him into the room, was still outside watching them. He made a face at Janice and muttered, “Can’t get any fuckin’ privacy in this place.” He knew she was just doing her job and ensuring Gracie didn’t try to give him drugs, but he was annoyed nonetheless.

Gracie couldn’t stop the small laughter escaping her lips, knowing for a fact that he had a point, she was more focus on school when they met that she didn’t ever try and experience the whole hook up culture. She looked over to where the nurse stood, realizing that she probably could hear part of their conversation which had her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I mean you’re in a treatment facility, they’re only worried about your well-being.” Grace pointed out, looking at the clock on the wall and sighed, “I have to get going, I agreed to work night shift for emergencies.”

“I know. She’s watching to make sure you don’t slip me drugs. I don’t think she really cares what we’re talking about.” Or maybe she did. Who knew? Not Kellen. “Damn, your job really never gives you a break, huh? Well, thanks for, uh, y’know, visiting me.” He wanted to tell her to stay longer— there was still 10 minutes until dinner would be served— but her job was important and he didn’t want her to get reprimanded.

“I mean, at least I don’t work at the hospital, then I would never be able to see anyone.” She pointed out, she preferred animals over humans any day of the week. “We can meet again when you’re released, maybe grab coffee or something.” Gracie suggested, part of her wanted to stay a little longer, just hold a conversation with Kellen and stare at his face a little longer.

“Oh yeah, that’d fucking suck. But hey, your patients are cute animals and not asshole people, so you’re really the one winning here. Though your patients are more likely to bite you... Sure, people can bite too, but it’s less likely.” He knew he certainly liked biting, in a sexual context at least. In his line of work, he wouldn’t know how to react if a customer bit him. “If all goes well, I should be getting out on March 26th.” That date couldn’t come fast enough. “You remember what happened the last time you invited me to get coffee with you, right?” he asked with a smirk, unable to resist the innuendo.

Gracie felt her mouth opening and closing at his statement, her cheeks burning at the memory, clearing her throat to try and not think about the memory as she adjusted herself in her seat. “So yeah, we’re not going to bring that back up because we are in a public place,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

Kellen snickered at her reaction. It was cute seeing her get all flustered. It was like the good old days. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, except to wait until he was home free and to hope for the best. “Aw come on, a man can dream, can’t he? I’ve been here for two weeks surrounded by a bunch of weirdos, and now you’re here being all cute and sentimental and shit.”

Gracie rolled her eyes at his statement, snorting under her breath, “You mean you’re horny, there’s a reason you have a hand and imagination Kell, use it.” She felt the corner of her lips lift up into a smile. She was teasing him and knew it was a dangerous line considering the fact it’s been awhile since she actually had sex besides using the vibrator she purchased a week after their breakup. If it wasn’t for Maya and Trixie for dragging her she would have been so pent up.

He bit his lip at her comment. She wasn't wrong. "Oh, if only I didn't have a roommate who literally never fucking sleeps. Seriously, man stays up all fuckin' night spouting conspiracies about the Earth being flat and the Queen of England being a lizard alien. It's making me miss Vito and his loud ass dog. Like fuck, at least we have separate rooms and he knows how to knock." He rolled his eyes playfully. He genuinely did miss his apartment and actual roommate, but that probably wasn't something he was going to tell Vito. "Sorry, I'm done. You have work and I'm just here chewing your ear off with complaints. I'll let you go."

Grace laughed lightly at the relationship he had with Vito, she enjoyed talking to Vito whenever he came by the clinic, she could tell he was a good person. “I’m sure he misses you too, not too long you’ll be released, and maybe I’ll help you with,” she flashed him a seductive smile and shakes her head laughing as she stood up from her seat, “Is it okay to hug or would they yell?”

"Eh, with me out of the apartment, he'll have more alone time with-- wait, fuck. His girl's out of town, never mind." Kellen was so preoccupied with his own shit that he had almost forgotten that Vito told him that Verity had to emergently leave town a few days ago. 'Poor guy,' he thought. "It's okay to hug, as long as you don't slip a knife or any dope into my pocket," he teased. He knew she would never do something like that, but from what he had heard, it wasn't out of the ordinary for visitors to do that kind of stuff.

Gracie rolled her eyes and walks around the table and wrapped her arms around him, inhaling the scent of him. She now didn’t even want to go or leave him here but she knew he needed this and she needed to figure out her thoughts. “Don’t cause any trouble,” she pulled back to lightly punch his shoulder.

He closed his eyes as she hugged him, savoring the moment. “Did you just sniff me?” he asked, chuckling. “I’ll try my best, but I may throw hands with my roommate Roger if he wakes me up again. Especially if he starts talking about aliens. He thinks one of the nurses is an alien.” He probably wouldn’t do it, but he thought about it at least once per day.

Grace pulled back and quickly denied it, “No I didn’t just sniff you.” She sighed and nodded her head, “Well Roger is just trying to make conversation, but come here.” She grabbed a hold of his shirt and rose on her tippy toes to kiss him. Was it beyond the line she tried to place for them, yes but she wanted to at least make this ‘shitty’ place a bit better.

He chuckled again at her denial, finding it both cute and endearing. "Well Roger's fucking annoying and kind of antisemitic," he grumbled. While Kellen didn't currently practice any religion and was raised Anglican, some of his maternal relatives practiced Judaism. When Gracie kissed him, he instinctively reached over to cup her cheeks, his lips curling into a smile. "I really missed you," he admitted, pressing his forehead against hers.

Grace sighed lightly, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling, it was the one thing she missed. Realizing she missed Kellen more than she thought, she tried many things to keep her mind from thinking about him. But over stepping the line by kissing him, embracing him, she was starting to want more. “I missed you as well,” she whispered and nudged his head with hers before pulling back and cupped his face. “I’ll see you soon, don’t cause trouble for the staff.”

After the breakup, Kellen attempted to dull his sadness with weed and alcohol. But now that he was completely sober for the first time in a long time, he remembered just how intense his feelings for her were. He felt the strangest mixture of emotions: love, lust, loss, passion, longing, and melancholy, all at once. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. "So what you're saying is that I should start a fight and set something on fire. Got it, Chief."

"That is not what I mean," Grace sighed and rolled her eyes, knowing that he was joking, or at least she hoped he was. "Just think...if you don't cause any trouble, maybe, just maybe I will give you something. But that's if you don't do anything stupid." She poked his chest and flashed him a genuine smile. "We'll discuss more the next time I see you, right now I want you to focus on yourself and getting better."

"Come on, Gracie. I'm funny," he teased, poking her side. "Okay, I won't cause any trouble. Though not being stupid, I can't promise anything. I'm pretty dumb whether I want to be or not." He wasn't book smart, and that was something he had accepted about himself a long time ago. "If you wanna come visit again, you can ask the nurses for the schedule. But no pressure if you can't make it." He hoped that she would be able to come by, at least once more, but wasn't going to hold his hopes up.

Gracie smiled and shakes her head, "Yeah yeah, whatever you say." She wanted to see him again so when he mentioned to get the schedule, she decided to do just that before she leaves. "Okay, I will do that and hopefully my work schedule doesn't conflict with it. Gotta make sure you're not causing ruckus in this place or else I'll send Vito over to ignore you in my honor."

Kellen busted into laughter when she brought up Vito. “You’re gonna send Vito to ignore me? Vito, the human puppy dog? Yeah, that’ll work out great.” He snorted. “You need to go to work. Don’t be late.”

Laughing softly, Gracie nodded her head and started walking towards the exit, turning around once more and gave Kellen a small wave. Walking out of the room, she felt a little at ease but still uncertain.

#Grace Rothschild #I hope y'all enjoy crying

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linkspooky · 5 years ago

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Oh! Top 5 Kimetsu no Yaiba characters?

I only have four characters I’d truly call faves from Kimetsu no Yaiba, but let’s go!

1. Doma - “Human emotions are nothing to me, like mere dreams…”

Every time someone claims that Doma is the only demon without a tragic backstory I want to fight them. Apparently most people think that children who grow up in cults aren’t traumatized at all and grow into rational and well-adjusted adults.

Doma is a character who shows no signs of empathy. However, he was a character who was never taught or shown any signs of empathy before. By the time he was an indpendenent adult he gave up on understanding it. Doma despises the cult, but it’s telling that he always stays there because it’s truly all he knows. He laughs at the people who come to the cult to distract themselves from the misfortunes of their life, but Doma too stays with the cult as a distraction for how empty and small his own life is.

Doma really was too mature for a child, but also too immature as well. He was forced to grow up too fast because neither of his parents actively wanted to parent him. People act like he’s a born sociopath for being observant enough as a kid to notice that the all the adults who entered into his life were only there to use him. Kids are sharper than you expect, but also duller as well. Doma never realized that life was any different outside of his environment. He stayed in that childish mindset forever, and egocentric little kid who only saw himself first and foremost. That’s not the thinking of a sociopath, it’s the thinking of a child, children can’t imagine viewpoints other than their own because they haven’t developed empathy yet.

There’s this assumption that people are either born good empathic people, or they’re not, but empathy is a quality that’s developed and learned. It was almost natural Doma became a demon by the end because not a single person in his life treated him as a human. Yet, despite reveling in being a monster Doma is still desperately searching for some meaning in his life too. He wants to have friends. He wants to feel the same way that other people. Even if it’s just a hollow imitation on his part, that was something in his lifetime but never got even up until the end. Doma’s this tragedy of empathy, because all he ever wanted was to feel the same way that everyone else did, to have the same connections they did, but because he was so isolated he only destroyed every small chance he did have at learning to empathize with another person.

2. Shinobu -“Yes I’m angry, Tanjiro. I’ve always been angry.”

I think Shinobu is interesting because she’s a bad person. I wish people would stop trying to paint her as a wholly good person who was loved by everyone around her. Shinobu’s character introduction is going out of her way to unnecessarily torture a demon for fun, and her attitude implies she has done this before. Torture is a universally bad thing, even if you’re doing it to a bad person.

I’m not trying to moralize Shinobu. I think she’s much more interesting this way, as a fundamentally flawed person. A cracked vase that can never truly be full. Yes, Shinobu is loved by a lot of people, but she’s also fundamentally unable to receive that love. She’s stopped living a long time ago, part of her stopped when her aprents died, and she gave up when her sister died. If Kimetsu no Yaiba were a more morally complicated story, Shinobu existing for the sole purpose of revenge would not be treated as a good thing. It’s an empty way of living, and the only thing Shinobu can do to keep living is to cling to all of the ugly and negative emotions inside of her.

The most interesting version of Shinobu is just rotten at her core, because she’s let the rot sink in and fester, because she doesn’t want to let go of her anger towards demons. It’s rare female characters are allowed to be filled with such ugly emotions, or allowed to express them in terrible ways. Shinobu plays games at being a healer, at being a person capable of nurturing like her older sister, but it’s just an empty imitation that falls flat. Shinobu at least in regards to herself doesn’t want to heal, she doesn’t want to get better, she wants to stay wounded forever so she can keep taking out her pain on the demons around her.

I like to think that when she summoned up a hallucination of her sister in her final moments to encourage herself, that was entirely a fabrication on her part. Shinobu wanted to imagine her sister who once told her to just quit the Demon Corps and find a way to live and be happy was just as angry as she was. Shinobu’s delusion of Kanae is a sister that validates her and tells her that she has to be angry, that she has to stand up and fight again, that there’s strength in this. And that’s exactly it, Shinobu at her very core wants to be strong. She hates being powerless and weak. I think Shinobu is at her best when her anger isn’t righteous. She doesn’t want to protect others - she wants to feel strong.

3. Iguro Obanai - “I want to defeat Muzan and die. I hope that will cleanse my corrupted blood. If we reincarnate as humans in a world without demons I will definitely tell you that I love you.”

I like how Iguro is nasty, and unpleasant, and also mean to the main character for really petty reasons. Shinobu’s trauma is easier for a lot of people to swallow because she doesn’t show it, she just puts on a mask of being nice and people buy into that mask. Iguro even though he wears a physical mask over his mouth is less good at hiding his disfigurement.

Iguro’s very traumatized and he acts that way. He’s anti-social. He’s withdrawn. He doesn’t get along well with others. He’s prone to violent outbursts. The scars left with Iguro are so deep they’re permanent. And I believe it’s because down to his core, Iguro believes himself to be a bad and selfish person for surviving while half of his family died, and thinking only of himself with his escape.

It’s not really his cursed blood that Iguro wants to escape from, but rather his trauma. He can’t find a way to live with his truama or accept himself so he seeks some escape with it by suicidally charging into battle. And that’s another thing that speaks to the permanency of his scars. Iguro is deeply in love with one person, but he can’t admit, or accept that love because he views the current iteration of himself as so unlovable.

He can neither give or receive love, and yet there’s some small part of Iguro that wants to heal. He wants to feel okay again. I think there is a part of Iguro that is very selfish. The way he acts towards Mitsuri isn’t really romantic, his protectiveness and jealousy are signs of entitlement. However, the thing is traumatized people do end up feeling entitled to happiness. Iguro’s so terrified of losing Mitsuri because she’s the one good thing in his life, and because of that he’s unable to love her in a healthy way.

Even if Iguro’s given up on himself and decided that he’s poison, unlike Shinobu I see that there’s some part of Iguro that genuinely wants to heal. He wants to feel like a good person, he wants to find someway to continue living, its just he thinks it’s impossible for him to. Iguro’s desire to die and be reborn is so compelling that I actually want to see him live and be forced to deal with the prospect of his slow healing rather than getting his wish to be redeemed by death.

4. Sanemi Shinazugawa - “My Nemi is the kindest…”

Tanjiro as a character is kind in a way that’s easy to digest. When he’s angry it’s always righteous anger. His kindness never becomes a difficult. Tanjiro never does anything that’s difficult to swallow. That’s okay, but it’s also not that deep.

Sanemi’s kindness and his anger are both a part of him. His cruelty does not detract from how kind he is, his kindness doesn’t excuse his cruelty. Sanemi is driven to act cruel, to be merciless, to be vicious not because he doesn’t care about people but he cares too much and the loss of almost everyone he’s loved in his life disfigures him permanently.

Sanemi is a little kid who hunted demons all on his own for years by letting them fight him until he bled. He always fights by intentionally harming himself, hence why he shows his scars at all time and makes no attempt to hide them. Sanemi as a person is damaged to his core, but he still retains that kindness because it’s a part of who he is.

Sanemi is angry because he’s kind. He’s violent because he’s kind. He’s so afraid of losing others again, the only way he knows how to be with them is to protect others from afar. Sanemi thinks he can abuse his brother, but as long as he protects him from demons from a distance it will all be okay in the end.

What I like about Sanemi’s narrative is that it wasn’t. His actions ended up hurting his brother far more than helping him, the more distance he put between them, the more Genya threw himself into harm to get his brother to acknowledge him. At the end everything Sanemi did to protect him amounted to nothing, and Sanemi is the one protected and comforted by his brother when he should have been the one taking care of him. I think the author rushed to the tragic ending rather than letting the characters developed to get there, but still there’s an interesting choice that Sanemi is the one to survive and not Genya. Sanemi who has always wanted to just go off and die somewhere eaten by a demon while his brother gets to live happily. Now Sanemi’s never going to fix things with that brother, and nothing he can do will make up for what he did to Genya. However, he still has to find a way to keep living for himself. Watching broken people trying to find a way to keep on living is the primary reason why I read fiction in the first place.

#spooky speaks #Anonymous #sanemi shinazugawa #iguro obanai #doma #shinobu kouchou

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carlyraejepstein · 4 years ago

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potentially upsetting topics: sui, gender dysphoria, abuse and parents, sex

Elliot Page’s coming out rescued an awful day. Its wording is unbelievably powerful, a comment I have made once before and will continue to do so. In it, he so strongly encompasses the fears, the sorrow, the rage, but most importantly the determination and the defiance of not only him but every trans person. I hesitate to use the word “community” because it implies a certain connection that might just not be there; I play a bit of Counter-Strike but I don’t consider myself part of the Counter-Strike community; yet when I read Elliot’s words I feel solidarity, I feel a pull to the trans community that I often don’t feel I pay my dues to, and it feels good, really good. Like I said on Twitter once, other trans people being, existing, living, is just rad. Inspiring, even, despite how that word has been worn out by cis people.

However, there’s a certain something that Elliot didn’t write, for Elliot never wrote “I am a man”; only his name, and pronouns, how he wishes to be referred to. Of course, we cannot possibly know what this omission means or does not mean to Elliot, but it’s something that concurred with a shift in how I perceive my own gender.

I remember first properly ruminating on gender in 2012 or 2013. My understanding was primitive, coming from Wikipedia. Once I knew what transgender or, given the time period, transsexual, the curiosity never really went away. I knew at this point about transition, and I knew about deed polls because of my resentment of my parents, I knew about HRT and I even knew about the GICs. I felt compelled to be an ally in that turbulent period in both my life and in the online culture I immersed myself in from around 2015 to 2017. At this time a friend was going through their own transition and seeing them gave me pause for thought; partly pride, partly worry but a small kernel of imagination, wondering if that could ever be me. It was when I went to sixth form, with its environment permitting greater yet still constrained self expression, that I felt gender dysphoria hit me with its full weight. Thinking, wondering, worrying about being transgender has been the central dialogue of my internal and external monologue ever since. Not a day passes where I don’t think about the dysphoria I feel over my continued closet-dwelling and the malignantly gendered properties of my body. On a January morning in 2019, at my very lowest point, motionless under the covers, I gave myself a choice between transition and death, and I chose transition.

It’s been a complex journey. When I was 13 I shortened my gender neutral name to make it more masc (which I have now happily embraced as my middle name). I leant into the deepening of my voice because I thought it gave me authority, conditioned through the harsh words of people from public Team Fortress 2 servers. I’ve done almost everything under the sun that gets people to say “I’d never have known!” when you come out to them; I worry that I still do and that nothing has changed. I’ve gone and cross-dressed when my parents were out, and I’ve been traumatised by Susan’s Place. I am autistic, no one who has met me can escape that fact; not that I would want to, and as a consequence I am so much more confident in my presence on the internet than I ever have been in the flesh, despite me still not knowing how to make friends; hence I’ve ended up trying to piece my transition together through 4chan (I know, bad) and Reddit and Twitter.

Perhaps the biggest reason I am not out is the time when I decided I would come out to my mother as trans. When we were in Munich we had walked past a pride parade, and when we got back to the apartment I revealed off hand that I was bi. My mother chided me for not telling them before hand since it was “polite” to do so, as if it were not my choice to make because, as I still believe to this day, it’s not a big deal and it’s none of their business. But I decided this time it was important, and that I could trust her. It turns out that just like every other time, trusting my mother is a bad idea that is guaranteed to cause me pain every time I make that mistake. She told me that because she “knows more about [me] than [I] do”, that she thought that I was just straight up wrong, couched it in rhetoric about how she thought that I was too weak to be trans, and quoted the shockingly offensive “autism is extreme male brain” theory to me. It was really devastating at the time and I think it still affects me to this day, especially as she constantly tries to worm her tendrils back into my life after I moved out.

But enough about my mother; she is a fucking flat out abuser. She has emotionally abused me, and undoubtedly my brother, all our lives. I was relieved that my dad chose not to react aggressively as she did, but with a modicum of respect and agreement not to make such a big deal out of it, something I would never expect my mother to match. In the middle of writing this piece I had to decide that I could not do it any longer, and I would never let her back into my life again.

Where that conversation in late 2018 relates to Elliot Page’s statement is my mother’s purported belief that “you don’t have to define yourself as a man or a woman”. Going past the fact that she is lying, since her tolerance for all trans people is thinner than the grey hairs on her head going on the basis that she couldn’t bring herself to say one positive thing to her own daughter that afternoon, it struck me recently that I can more eloquently describe my gender through elimination rather than a label. I am happy to call myself a woman, a trans woman, and I don’t feel as if I really am wavering in or around the binary. But what I can say for definite is that while I have been a boy for almost all my life, and am holding onto that, I am not, and never will be, a man.

Where that leaves me is that I am not a man, but must I be a woman? If I am perhaps not a woman, am I non-binary? No; it doesn’t feel right. However, if I attach just a convenience to the label woman, I can give myself that flexibility in how I feel and how I present myself, and perhaps the biggest example of that is how in recent months I have made peace with my voice. It is not really a femme voice; I hit vocal fry just speaking normally. But I know how to be expressive with it; it is my voice that I have honed over 19 years after all. One day I want to find someone who will help me upgrade my voice (and yes, upgrade) but keeping it means I fulfil one cool thing about being trans, and that is saying fuck you to the very existence of the gender binary. I keep this voice out of necessity, but I’m still trans femme, I am still a woman and I still want my facial hair zapped off.

As well, I reserve the right to say I used to be a boy. Not a man, but a boy. That’s why they call it boymoding, right? How else can I describe the first 17 years of my life? I can be a boy all the same now, although I may be pushing it aged 20, and at the point at which I am really stretching that concept which at this point I am adhering to solely for my safety and comfort, I shouldn’t need to use it anymore. Wishful thinking, of course.

I think we should consider why we use “man” and “woman” in the first place. From my perspective they are simply words to describe people with two different sets of primary and secondary sexual characteristics, convenient because, well, being cis is unavoidably common. But they are not discrete, as we so often have to reiterate using intersex people as an unwilling crutch, where one does not occur in the other they are so often analogous and often they overlap! Supposedly 60% of teenage boys develop further breast tissue, and 40% of women have some form of facial hair. Thinking that the two are discrete gives rise to the idea of “biological sex”, a concept developed by cis people either to misgender trans people in a way they think is philosophically rigorous, or to reconcile their tenuous support for trans people with a continuing belief in the gender binary. Personally I would like to smash the concept of biological sex to bits because it is not useful to us. At the very least it may describe one’s primary sexual characteristics but bottom surgery exists, and I don’t happen to think that it is “mutilation”. I don’t need to argue that “biological sex can be changed”; they are not discrete categories, and I don’t need to move between them, or seek validation for having moved between them. It is not a helpful generalisation for bodies, diverse as they are.

I must add that as a trans woman the fact that I may have a penis doesn’t mean that I use it in the same way as a man. I use mine to pee, primarily, and it’s definitely not going inside anyone except myself any time soon; a whole zine was written about how trans women fuck and use their bits to fuck, so I definitely don’t need to anyway.

Another bullshit concept is “biological destiny” or “biological reality”, although I will give less breath to this one because at it’s core it is fundamentally misogynistic, and it so often is divorced from any sensible definition of reality. It’s like if I had to have my arm amputated and then someone came up to me and said “you’ll always have two arms, you were born with them and you’ll die with them”.

I’ve heard and thought a lot about gender abolition but it seems to me that its proponents expect that like the state, gendered differences will just disappear over time. But I don’t want that to happen. If the binary is done away with I don’t want gender to disappear I want it to flourish! Because gender is beautiful, men are beautiful, women are beautiful, and everyone in between or outwith are beautiful. On the other hand, me and you don’t need to be men, or women, or call ourselves non-binary to be beautiful. Being trans is about cultivating your own beauty and your own identity. When cissiety demands that the only identity and presentation we’re allowed is one that corresponds to what they decided was between our legs when we were born, why give ourselves only one other choice?

I don’t really know how to end this piece because I wrote one half of it one day and the other half a couple of weeks later. At the very least I’m glad I can attribute my peace with not necessarily being a woman but a femme to Elliot Page, and not my rotten bastard mother.

#trans #transgender #elliot page #gender abolition

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gloves94 · 4 years ago

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To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 16

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: None

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

Living in the House of Lestrange, was, well, strange for less of a better word. It didn’t take Nel long to learn two things about Ms. Cloelia Lestrange. The main thing was she had a knack for polished manners. Apparently, the missus ran a primary school for Pure-Blood children, she taught everything from reading, writing and other educational basics to extra curriculars such as proper etiquette and ball room dancing. Things that were considered to be essential to the people running in these circles. Since Elowen was under her thumb and guardianship it was essential that she be a fit representation of this. For the first time in her life the teenager had the proper guardian of what seemed to be a proper motherly figure.

Despite her opposition to it Elowen as she was now to be addressed according to Cloelia, learned to dress, groom herself like a proper lady. This she surprisingly didn’t mind too much, as a young child she had been curious by makeup once sneaking into Wool’s room and putting a pink lipstick all over her face and a street dog. This earned her twenty slaps on her hands with a snappy ruler. She never went near the damn things ever again.

However, what she did mind was sitting in the old dining table that kicked you whenever you committed an etiquette mistake. Talk with a mouthful. Kick. Reach for jam without asking for it to be passed. Kick.

Use the wrong utensils in the wrong order. Kick.

Eating your soup towards you instead of away. Kick.

Kick the table for kicking you. Kick.

Cloelia would always sit at the head of the table which seemed to dictate the meal’s accepted and unaccepted manners. “Nuh-uh-hu,” She’d warn whenever Nel reached for a bread roll across the table. “Too many and you’ll get plump.”

The girl shot her a glare. Kick. “Mind your manners,” She’d smile smugly at her. When the table would attack her. It almost seemed to bring a strange type of sadistic pleasure to her.

Because of this Nel’s shins were painfully bruised in shades of violet, purple, green and yellow. When confronting Cloelia about it she simply sipped on her tea and told her Nel was asking for it.

Being at the Lestrange’s was like some twisted charms school. Perhaps the abuse wasn’t physical, but it was certainly emotional.

The second thing about Cloelia was that she absolutely adored her only son Ellar. The only time that Ms. Lestrange seemed to remove her hawk like eyes from Elowen was when she was reading her son’s leaders. There weren’t many recent pictures of the two in the walls, but the woman would constantly praise him and remind the girl just how handsome and terribly smart her son was. She would even gush when receiving letters and French pastries from him. There didn’t seem to be a Mr. Lestrange in the picture. Nel didn’t ask why. Apparently Ellar who Nel had already boxed as pretentious racist like most of the other Pure-Bloods she had met was away doing an internship in France.

It was strange being in the life. She finally had the same clothes as the other Slytherin girls, but they still weren’t hers. Accepting them felt like granting Cloelia ownership over her person. Something Nel felt like was a given to the older woman consider how she took her liberties in making harsh comments about her appearance constantly.

One of the bright sides of living with Cloelia was that she did not mind if Nel had contact with her friend which was a breath of fresh air. However, Nel still had to work up the courage to ask if she could attend the Quidditch World Cup Final Game with Theo and Tracey. Presently…

‘Harder. Up, down, up down, left, right, left, right- That’s right! Keep it up! Transform those buns into steel!’

Nel was currently coated in sweat working out to an old record of witch-lattes or aerobics, she wasn’t sure which one was playing. All she knew was that she was exhausted and Cloelia was watching her from a comfortable sit while eating a large pumpkin pastry.

“You’ve got to maintain your figure,” She said licking her greasy lips before taking a small lady-like bite from the pastry.

‘Easier said than done,’ the girl bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. She was sweating bullets and felt she was in desperate need of a shower when she heard the front door slam. She paid it no mind much to focused on the exercise.

“Maman!” An unfamiliar voice entered the room.

“Ellar! Oh! Welcome home mon cœur!”

Nel had never seen Ms. Lestrange move so fast before. She jumped from her seat and exclaiming other French words in excitement advanced towards her son whom she embraced and showered in kisses.

“I wanted to surprise you!” He stated hugging his mother back.

Elowen remained quiet at the interaction. Not because she had always wanted somebody to welcome her home like that. In that moment she realized she wanted to die.

He was hot.

He was a couple of years older than her and very handsome. In contrast here she stood a sweating mess. She had never seen a more beautiful person before. With a strong jaw, sleepy eyes and dark curly hair, Ellar looked like the protagonist of a period drama. He was dressed in soothing tones of velvet blue and turned to acknowledge her with his hazel eyes.

She wanted to look away but couldn’t and felt her skin heating in unflattering patches of red. She prayed he’d assume they were from the exercise and not his presence.

“This is Elowen Saintday,” Cloelia introduced. “She’s the young lady I wrote to you about.”

Nel was too busy drooling at her son that she didn’t snap out of her trance until she heard the woman addressing her. “I expect you’ll be gracious towards my son.”

You bet that would not be a problem. His mother gave Ellar what seemed to be a knowing look. He approached her and reached for her hand bringing it to his lips in an antiquated gesture. He said something she didn’t understand in French.

“What?” She asked flushing nervously. She wanted to slap herself and mentally beat herself up for not responding “Hi.” She was shellshocked never having had her hand held and kissed like that, specially by an older boy. “I’m enchanted,” He now said in English flashing her a charming smile. “I said the pleasure is all mine,” he translated. Was he blatantly flirting with her, in front of his mother? Ms. Lestrange seemed unbothered or completely oblivious to this. She had been around the opposite sex her whole life. Back at Wool’s, Back at Hogwarts. Why would this one be any different?

That day Nel found herself actually looking forward to dinner. You bet she picked out her nicest clothes and did and re-did her hair over and over again until she just gave up on it. At dinner she learned that Ellar was a sixth-year student at Beauxbaton Magical Academy in France. He had spent his summer at an internship with the French Ministry of Magic working in the Department of Mysteries. He said he was particularly studying certain enigmas of magic such as death, time, space, thoughts and love, it was fascinating. Even Bindi the Lestrange’s House Elf, whom Nel wasn’t allowed to speak with, had gone all out with the dinner. However, she did not seem happy to see her master return. Cloelia was stern with her but as far as Nel knew she had never seen her be stern or particularly cruel to the female elf.

Ellar drank his wine and lay a hand on his stomach taking in the familiar meal he had just had. “Everything magnificent as always mother,” he let out a long breath as he relaxed into his chair.

Her hand was halfway reaching for a second slice of cake. It was then that she noticed the older teen was looking at her, and she was staring at the beautiful stranger back. “Should you really be having another slice?” He arched an eyebrow in the direction of the beautifully decorated vanilla cake in the center of the dining table.

Embarrassed she lowered her fork and looked away from his perturbing gaze. “Will we be attending the Quidditch World Cup Finals this year?” Ellar added turning to face his mother.

Forgetting her embarrassment at wanting another slice she turned to attentively listen out for Cloelia’s answer.

“Of course, dear, the Minister has invited us to his personal box,” His mother responded pompously. “And I trust both of you,” Her eyes shot the girl a look, “Will be on your best behavior.”

Nel couldn’t help but smile a little.

Don’t count on it. She winced when she felt the dining table kick her shin. Could the stupid table read minds too?

Alright, maybe do count on it. “I was actually planning on attending with some friends of mine. If that’s alright,” Elowen butted scanning her guardian’s face for any hint of disapproval.

Ms. Lestrange put her utensils down and gaped at the girl in appalling horror. “And refuse the Ministry of Magic’s invitation?” She brought a hand to her chest in offense. “You will sit with us in the box,” She said in a term that was non-negotiable.

“Minister of Magic can choke,” Nel grumbled underneath her breath earnings her a well-earned kick from under the table.

“Friends?” She was surprised to see Ellar scoffing and judging her answer. He learned slightly forward in her direction. “Why would you rather see your friends when you can network with the Minister himself? Think about it Elowen,” He began speaking in an eloquent tone. “If you’ve got Fudge on your side it could open a lot of doors for you,” He smirked slightly in her direction. “How do you think I got my foot in the French Ministry of Magic’s door?”

He spoke like a true Slytherin. This was the type of cunning talk about ambition she would’ve heard in the Common Room or perhaps the type of advice that Professor Snape would’ve given her if she had asked for any.

Nel wanted to disagree but Ellar was right.

She had to respect his ambition.

Xxxxx

Meanwhile, that same night, in a dark room, in an old broken-down house just outside of Little Hangleton a vile ploy was being orchestrated.

Whispers and hushed voices could be heard echoing the dusty, cob-webbed corridors of the house. Their only companions a howling wind and a nosey old man.

“Oh, no, no, no my Lord. I only meant... Perhaps if we were to do it without the boy. We could use the girl; the girl is ready…” A large man with the face of a rat cowered before his master. “She’s under the guardship of Lestrange. We could take her now, do what we need-“

“NO!” The master’s dark tone bounced off the walls. “I need them both. Together. It will be done exactly as I say.” He stretched out a hand calling for his snake to come and gather around its master. “The boy, he’s everything, and the girl…” He went silent for a moment. “Everything will be done with precision at the right time. I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this. I can wait one more…”

Without much of a choice Pettigrew lowered his head as he groveled to Voldemort. “I will not disappoint you my Lord.” He bowed.

“Good,” Voldemort rasped. “First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign.”

xxxxx

AN: Short chapter but brief introduction to Y4. What do you guys think Voldy is up to? Also, thoughts on Ellar’s character? Next chapter we’re going to the Quidditch World Cup!

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skvaderarts · 4 years ago

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Hiraeth Chapter 15: Acquaintance

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter fifteen: Acquaintance

Notes: I don’t normally do anything for Valentine’s Day, but I might write something for it this year. IDK since I have no ideas. It’s not my kind of day. But I thought it might be a fun challenge, so here we are. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It was a new kind of challenge for me. More on that later in the endnotes!

-~-

In truth, there had been no specific set of expectations placed upon the situation that they now found themselves in. none of them were entirely sure what they’d expected to find when they exited the house and walked along the path that led through the front lawn to the front gate that inclosed the small front yard, but it sure as hell hadn’t been what they found. In such trying times, that was one thing that was for certain.

Flames rained down from the sky as the intrepid group of devil hunters forged a path forwards up the street, remnants of a distant encounter of some sort that seemed to be a few blocks away. From this distance, all they could see was smoke and charred trees, all they could smell was the distinct sulfurous scent of the underworld; all they could feel was the burning heat that only fire left in its wake. looks of perplexion and mild amusement adorning their faces as they strode forward. Yes, something cataclysmic had certainly occurred during their time inside of Matier’s cozy abode. They hadn’t noticed any of this whatsoever. Whatever this was, it was eventful, and it might be the perfect distraction from the matter at hand.

But what had caused this incredible set of circumstances to occur in the first place? This entire situation was entirely irregular, to say the least. Even from the distance that they currently were from it, they could feel the change in the atmosphere. A great deal of power was being discharged in whatever battle was waging ahead of them, and they couldn’t pinpoint its origin. But perhaps the most incredible thing was that there didn’t seem to be any notable property damage. No, the encounter, whatever it was, seemed to be contained in some way. The entire little village that they found themselves in would have burned down by then if that wasn’t the case.

“So Vergil, you spent, what, literally forever in the underworld, right? You ever seen something like whatever this is?” Nico asked as she attempted to keep pace with the rest of the group. She was out of breath, and running wasn’t something that she did if she could avoid it, especially in a hot, humid climate like the one that they were in. That being said, she didn’t want to miss a second of the action if she could help it.

The devil slayer in blue glanced over at her, more or less neutral to the inquiry. Yes, he had indeed spent “literally forever” down there. There was no need to remind him. But he could only assume that the young woman had meant her comment in a non-malicious way. She had no reason to pick a fight with someone who could easily end her life. Perhaps it was just her misguided way of breaking the ice.

“Now that you mention it… no, I don’t believe that I have.” The reality of that realization suddenly dawned on Vergil as they forged a path forward. The Darkslayer drew his weapon and readied himself for a fight, unwilling to simply walk into what could possibly be a trap. Nico wouldn’t willingly walk them into one, but the situation could still be beyond her scope of expertise. And besides, having Yamato at the ready was probably be the best decision he could make when going up against an unfamiliar and more than likely deadly force. He wasn’t going to make it too easy on his opponent.

Dante shrugged, pulling his blade from his back in preparation for the battle that they were probably walking into. “Beats me! I’ve never seen anything quite like this, either. It’s kinda familiar, but not really, and I still can’t place what could be causing it.”

Much to their surprise, Nico snickered slightly at the statement. “Oh, believe me, your gonna see what’s causing. That’s why I came and got ya in the first place! I needed ya to see this for yourself. It’s pretty wild!”

“So am I the only one who wasn’t to know why the sky is on fire? Because I feel like that might be pretty important.” Nero said as he readied Blue Rose. It was the bare minimum of presumptive action that he could take against a possible sneak attack, and the last thing he wanted to do was get torn in half by some random demon. Not only would it be a lame way to die, but it would also keep him from finding out what the hell was going on.

“Yes, your quite right, Nero. The sky isn’t normally on fire. A rather astute observation, if I do say so myself. And it certainly doesn’t help me breathe any easier.” A familiar voice said as they passed him from behind, leaving nothing more than a blur or dark energy as they passed. Nero gave V an unamused look as he hovered past him, the shorter-haired man clearly not pleased that he had to run while V could simply float along the ground effortlessly. That wasn’t to say that he blamed him, though. If he has such an ability, Nero was certain that he too would abuse it in every possible way. Riding Punchline was by far one of the highlights of his day whenever he was afforded the opportunity.

As the group neared the trees, they caught sight of something that waylaid them slightly. Standing just to the side of their destination was a familiar face that Dante was positive that he hadn’t seen in far too long. A small dagger flew past Dante’s head and into the tree behind him as stepped forward, catching sight of the group of demons that had gathered around in a hopeless attempt at actually standing much of a chance against their opponent. But that wouldn’t do them any good. While she might not be quite as powerful as he was, Lucia was far from a pushover, and a few worthless Puia, Demonochorus, and Msira didn’t stand a chance against her. As if to prove his point, she threw a volley of blades at the last remaining wave of them, knocking them dead to the floor as she withdrew her curved blades from the remains of a Savage Golem that had made the fatal mistake of thinking it could take her on in close quarters combat.

Vergil raised an eyebrow as she approached them, noting the finer points of what little of her fighting style he’d be able to see. While he himself used smaller blades as a primary element of his fighting style, actually throwing them was another matter entirely. It took great skill to be able to hit your target so consistently, and to do so with such speed? She was rather impressive, wasn’t she? He wondered for a moment what he had expected her to do when he’d finally met her, but it seemed that whatever expectations he’d previously possessed had been subverted, even if he didn’t really know what those expectations were. It wasn’t every day that something like that happened.

The instant that the demon was dead and she had holstered her twin blades, Lucia jogged over to them, using her left hand to toss her long red braid over her shoulder as she came to a stop in front of Dante. Despite the fact that she’d just finished a battle, a pleasant, if not shy smile spread across her face. “Dante… Matier told me you’d come back around. What are you…”

She trailed off for a second as she caught sight of the rest of the group, noticing for the first time how many new people she’d never seen before were there, especially the ones with white hair. Her eyes drifted over to Vergil as he approached, V and Nero coming from behind their father and around to meet her. Was this the guardian that Dante had told them so much about? If so, they were somewhat surprised. For whatever reason, both Nero and V had collectively figured that she was an older woman like Matier. She didn’t’ seem significantly older than they were. Probably around Lady and Trish’s age, possibly even slightly younger. It was hard to say by just looking at her. What they could say, however, was that so far, she seemed far too nice to be one of Dante’s friends. After all, she hadn’t shot or stabbed him yet. What a welcome change of pace!

After a moment of staring in quiet confusion at Vergil, Lucia turned back towards Dante. She looked at the devil hunter in red for a second, her brow furrowing slightly as though she didn’t understand something. She tilted her head to one side, clearly considering something. A moment later she looked at Vergil again, this time stepping back to get a better look at both of them. And just like that, something clicked.

“Oh… I see. That makes sense. Very interesting.” She turned her gaze towards Dante, folding her arms and she glared at him playfully. If she’s been closer, she might have even nudged him, but that was a longshot. “Why didn’t you tell me you were identical twins, Dante?! That’s incredible! You told me about your brother but…”

Lucia slowly stopped talking as she noticed that Vergil was folding his arms and turning to give his twin a dirty look, the younger of the two giving her a look as if to plead with her to stop talking. While the lovely redhead wasn’t privy to what was going on, she was smart enough to be able to tell that it was probably a complicated matter between her longtime friend and his twin brother, and that she didn’t want to get involved. If the tension alone was anything to go by, it might not end very well for her. Best to revisit that topic later when it was just her and Dante and the two of them were not in the same location. After all, she’d heard from down the grapevine that they didn’t always get along.

V peered around his father’s back, wrangling Shadow as he ended his use of the demonic feline. She was an invaluable asset, especially in regards to travel, but there was no reason to use her when they were standing still. Best to let her rest just in case things took a turn. Though going off of his experience with the young woman that they had just ran into, he couldn’t imagine that it would. From what he could tell, she seemed kind.

“Sorry about that. It’s not my business, is it? Forgive me.” Lucia blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed. She’d only been talking to him for a minute or two, and she’d already managed to find a way to get herself tongue-tied and into a situation that she didn’t particularly wish to be in. How did this always happen? “My name is Lucia. I’m one of the guardians of Vei Du Marlin. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay so far. Sorry for the wait.”

As if to protest against her polite statement, another loud explosion ricochet across the space behind them, this time the vibration it caused was enough to stagger them, nearly causing V to stumble and fall over due to the sheer force of it. Nero reached for his brother in an attempt to steady him, but the older of the two politely waved him off. There was no need. Thankfully he hadn’t actually fallen down. The problem was that V’s center of balance left much to be desired. Lucia noticed his unsteady state and gave him a concerned look, drawing attention from the rest of the group as she did so. V sighed quietly under his breath, cursing his entire equilibrium for being so easily swayed.

“I’m fine. Truly. It’s just that whatever that was threw me off.” V glanced back towards the source of the explosion before turning back to her, intreuged.” Normally I tend to notice strange things such as that a moment or so before they occur because I do have eyes and I can see them, but we have no visibility from where we currently are. As such, I can’t really brace myself for impact. And whatever small amount of foresight I tend to possess has seemingly abandoned me. It’s unfortunate, but I’ll manage.”

Lucia nodded, seeming to understand his plight. “Oh, I understand. That makes sense. My mother needs assistance when she walks these days as well. She’s elderly, you see. Your balance being a little off is absolutely understandable if you walk with a cane.”

V considered elaborating for a moment, but he couldn’t will himself to do so. For whatever reason, he found himself tongue-tied in a manner that was unfamiliar to him. It was rare that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, yet here he was, at a total loss for words. He wanted to say that it was simply because of the fact that he didn’t know what to say to such a polite, understanding, and accommodating response, but there was a part of him that subconsciously registered that there was more to it than that. He just didn’t know how to put it into words. And that was exceedingly strange to him. Maybe he was just worn out from his long conversation with Nero, Dante, and Vergil?

“Nice meeting you, Lucia. I’m Nero. Dante’s nephew. The frigid jerk in the blue coat is my dad, Vergil. He’s not so bad once you get used to him.” Nero said politely, trying his best to break the strange tension that had formed between V and the young guardian. He’d never seen V look so dumbfounded and lost before in his life, and it was as amusing as it was deeply confusing and strange. But regardless, they needed to figure out what was going on here. “This one’s my brother. I swear, he normally talks more. Not a lot more, but still. It’s something.”

V seemed to catch onto the fact that he was, in fact, acting deeply strange. He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground for a moment as if doing so would clear his head somehow. Suddenly he felt incredibly embarrassed, and he couldn’t even find a place to start as to why. What the hell was wrong with him? “You can call me V. it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucia. What seems to be the trouble?”

She smiled slightly, a pleasant look that was reflected in her eyes in a way that told him it was genuine and not artificial friendliness to help break the ice between them. She pointed towards the woods, shrugging slightly as an exasperated look crossed her face. Despite the fact that she’d seen what had happened, that didn’t mean that it made any more sense to her than it did to anyone else. “Your companion came to assist me. A strange, large demon attacked while I was dispatching the lesser ones, and he lured it over there. I’ve been too busy dealing with these ones to go and see what became of him, but the fire doesn’t seem good, does it?”

Nero glanced over in the direction of the woods. He had to agree with her. “No, it doesn’t seem very good, does it? We should probably go and check it out. Ya know, see if he need any help. How big was this demon?”

The red-haired guardian gestured with both of her hands before withdrawing her blades, something catching her eye behind them. She took a defensive stance, motioning with her head towards the woods on the other side of the street. “Massive. But I think we might have company on the way. It seems that all this commotion had attracted unwanted attention.”

She gestured in the direction of the large precession of demons that were now charging them, their heads lowered and their horns positioned to strike. It was a group that consisted of several varieties of goat and Finis demons and, from what he could tell, there were about two dozen of them. Each variety was present and accounted for, and they seemed eager and willing to attack. That didn’t surprise the devil hunter in red in the slightest. They always had been in his experience, especially the damn goat demons. But that didn’t change anything. He’d faced them before, and he would face them again.

Dante chuckled slightly, remembering the first time that he’d faced a member of the goat clan. They were always a fun time, but he didn’t really have the opportunity at the moment to give them the time that he would have liked to. Right now wasn’t the best time to pick a fight with a giant overgrown flaming goat, but they were going to have to take them down nonetheless. And then they needed to figure out where Sirrus was and fast before things got out of hand. If nothing else, flaming debris falling from the sky might catch something on fire. And the last thing they needed was to be even partially responsible for yet another destroyed town. Enough was enough for one lifetime. Or at least one year…

“Alright then, let’s take care of these posers and go see what’s got the big guy so riled up. Think we can do that before the entire neighborhood burns down?” Dante said playfully as they readied themselves to meet their opponents head-on. Each of his companions gave him an affirming nod, even Nico who had no intention of getting into this fight. She didn’t even have a weapon, but she was going to hang back and see what she could do to help. Maybe going to check on what was going on in the woods was a good idea? Regardless, they were ready to meet their opponents head-on, and as the foolish creatures charged them head-on, they decided to meet them in the middle.

The entire company of devil hunters surged forward, ready to take down these pathetic excuses for demons and get to the real challenge. The poor creatures wouldn’t live to regret the day that they stumbled across the entirety of their family. After all, descendants of Sparda didn’t suffer demons to live, and there were a lot of demons here asking for a good murdering. Not a single one was going to make it out of here alive if any of them had anything to say about it. Especially with the mood that Vergil was in today. That had been their first and last mistake.

-~-

Wow. I did all of this week’s writing in one night. What the hell is wrong with me? Anyway, Lucia is hard for me to write, so I hope I did okay! I’ve never written anything with her in it before, despite how much I love her! Head to the comments and recommend me some fics with her in it to read! I need to learn her mannerisms, although I think I might have gotten a few of them at least half right. Thanks for all the support, and I’ll see you all next week. Well, except for the little valentines day short that I might write for Saudade sometime soon, but you know what I mean XD

See you in the comments!

#V #Dante #Vergil #Nero #Lucia #Nico #Post Devil May Cry 5 #DMC #DMC5 #DMCV #A03 FanFiction #Post Devil May Cry 5 Fanfiction #Hiraeth

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argyle-s · 5 years ago

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On Supercorp

So, I am aware that, among certain circles, I have a bit of a reputation as an “anti”. Anti-Supercorp, Anti-Lena. I’ll admit, the reputation is well deserved. I have, over the past few months, made a lot of anti-Lena posts. Since Septemper 25 of this year, I have posted more than two hundred posts with the “anti lena luthor” tag.

Now, I’ve never really been a quiet fan. Even before I started making posts tagged anti lena luthor, I was on the Sunshine Protection Force’s block list, because I dared to make a meme for a ship that Vv doesn’t approve of as a gift for a friend. I once dared to point out that Kara was more likely to go to Alex with a question about something she didn’t understand, and got called a ‘granny stanning fuck’. I got harassed to the point of taking down one of my fics because a bunch of teenagers in the Sanvers fandom didn’t like me writing about Alex and Maggie engaging in self destructive behavior. Oh, and I had dared to write posts criticizing Lena’s behavior.

But why the sudden, vehement dislike of Lena and the Supercorp ship?

In order to explain that, I have to explain a bit about who I am. I am a 43 year old bisexual trans woman. I transitioned about 2 months after my 42 birthday. I grew up in a deeply religious, homophobic, transphobic home. My grandmother and her second husband were my primary care takes for the time I was about 6 months old, until he died when I was 16. I finally managed to move out when I was about 21. By the time I moved out of my grandmother’s house, I was already involved with a woman who was ten years older than me.

I was abused for the first 34 years of my life. First by my Grandmother and her husband, then by my intimate partner. When I was a child, I got the full buffet. Mental, emotional and physical abuse. My Grandmother liked wire and plastic fly swatters. Her husband liked leather belts, his firsts, and on one notable occasion, a buck knife. I at various times watched him try to murder one of my uncles with said knife, and try to choke my brother to death. He was a prescription drug addict, and his moods were as unpredictable as his choice of drugs each morning. I met my ex, who was my first girlfriend, when I was 19 and she was 29. She spent two years grooming me. We first slept together when I was 21 and she was 31. We were together for 13 years, and the best thing I can say about her is that she never hit me. The physical abuse stopped when I was sixteen and my grandmother’s husband died, but not being hit doesn’t mean that twenty-two years of my life weren’t filled with horrible abuse and violence.

I eventually escaped. I got lucky. My brother got remained to an abuse survivor, and the more she and I interacted, the more she picked up on the signs of abuse. It took her years to coax me into standing up for myself, and when I finally did, when I finally stood up to my ex and said ‘you’re abusing me’ she immediately threw me out. It was honestly the kindest thing she’d ever done for me. She literally released me from the promises and commitment I had made to her, and let me walk away from the hellscape of that life with a clean conscience.

I walked away, but not without lasting injury, and permanent scars. I have depression, anxiety, CPTSD and an eating disorder. I’ve spent long periods of my life dealing with suicidal tendencies. And I was, at the time I walked away, a 34 year old closeted trans woman.

What does all of that have to do with Supercorp you ask?

Pretty much everything.

Kara Zor-El has been my favorite Superhero since I was about 8 years old and say the Helen Slater movie for the first time. Up until that point, Superman has held the crown, but I felt a much deeper connection to Kara than I ever did as Clark. It would be decades before I really understood why she resonated so strongly, but my love for Kara has always been there.

Then 2015 rolled around, and Supergirl premiered, and I was blown away. This was a version of Kara that I connected with so much more deeply that any other version. This was everything I had ever wanted. I fell in love with the show, and with Kara Danvers. I felt a kinship and a connection to the character at the time in my life when I was struggling deeply with depression and anxiety.

As ridiculous as it may sound, Supergirl was a lifeline. The show filled me with so much hope that I could survive, that I could make it. Kara was a roll model. She’s been through something horrible, and she came out of it and all she wanted to do was help. And no matter how hard things were, no matter how cruel the world was to her, she still had hope, she still had strength, and she still did everything she could to help.

I came out the summer between the first season and the second. Told the world that I am bisexual, that I have gender disphoria. I did it in the wake of the Pulse Shooting.

A few weeks later, I got Kara’s symbol tattooed on my arm. Below it are Cat Grant’s words. “Hope in Stronger Than Fear.” I did it as a reminder to myself.

Then season two started.

I admit, I didn’t pay much attention to Lena at first. Cat, who I loved was gone, and I was swept up in Alex’s coming out storyline. Lena was just kind of there. I didn’t really connect to her. But what I did see... It bothered me. The alien detector storyline in her second episode left a sour taste in my mouth. The fact that she put Kara's life on the line by telling Lillian that Kara was investigating her. It wasn't really until the end of Ace Reporter (2x18) that I really noticed just how uncomfortable her character made me. There was something about that final scene between her and Kara that just didn't sit right. Looking back, I think it's because that's the first time (at least that I remember) that Lena shifts the responsibility for her behavior onto Kara. It's subtle, it's all the in the subtext of what she's saying, but it's there.

The next disturbing moment is in 3x02, and the confrontation between Kara and Lena. Kara sets a boundary. She tells Lena the problem she is having in personal, and that she doesn't want to talk about it at work. Lena, instead of respecting that boundary, instead of backing off, immediately punishes Kara for daring to not share every detail of her life. Yes, Kara was not doing her job, but Lena's obviously knew Kara was having issues, and she came down on Kara the way she did to punish her for having boundaries and feelings.

From there, Lena's actions towards Kara get more and more questionable, and I will not go through and innumerate all of them. I've done so in a number of other posts. But there is a slow but steady building of a pattern of abuse between Lena and Kara, with Lena as the abuser and Kara as the victim. It gets progressively worse. The pattern is clear. Lena expects Kara to be completely emotionally available to her at all times. She feels entitled to Kara's every thought and feeling. She expects and allows Kara to perform all the emotional labor in the relationship. And any time Kara doesn't to all of this, any time Kara sets a boundary, or isn't available at Lena's whim, Lena punishes Kara for it. The clearest example of this, prior to the Lex reveal, was in American Dreamer (4x19) when Lena lays into Kara for not being there for her.

And ultimately, that's what is going on in season 5. All of Season 5 so far, with the exception of Crisis, is Lena's attempt to punish Kara for not making every single part of her life available to Lena. And there is a dangerous level of escalation to Lena's abuse that we see, even before the season starts. In the preview, we see that there is a clear desire, on Lena's part, to physically harm Kara. It wouldn't actually be the first time. Lena allows Kara to get hurt by not telling her that the forcefield will hurt her if she uses her x-ray vision on it back in The Fanatical (3x19). It's a horrible moment, but I'm not including it in the pattern of abuse directed towards Kara, because at the time, Lena didn't know Supergirl and Kara were the same person. I realize some people are going to point out that what was say in the VR simulations were just that, simulations, but Lena does, eventually, especalate to physical abuse in Tremors (5x07) when she cages Kara in ice and exposes her to Kryptonite.

Now that I've laid out all the back story here, let's address the original question. Why am I so vehemently anti lena luthor and anti supercorp?

Because watching Kara and Lena's relationship feels very much like watching the nightmare of my relationship with my ex play out in front of my eyes. The slow escalation of abuse. The gaslighting. The punishment for having feelings. The inability of Kara to hold any part of her life back from Lena without being punished for her. Kara is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction. She has been for 35 years. I feel a personal connection and kinship to her, and watching her be abused so badly and so long, until we get an entire episode like The Wrath of Rama Khan (5x08) where she sounds like nothing so much as a battered woman defending her abuser, is painful. But worse than that, watching the Supercorp fandom glorify and romanticize it, watching then take delight in "the angst", is horrifying.

Kara is being abused by Lena, and the Supercorp fandom is out there cheering Lena on. They are claiming that the abuse is absolutely justified by the fact that Kara kept a secret. They are baying for the escalation of violence against Kara by Lena.

It's disgusting. It is.

I don't expect this post to change the minds of the Supercorp die hards or the Lena die hards. But there are people in this fandom who are going to see the fandom holding up Kara and Lena and screaming 'relationship goals'. I hope they see this post, because there are people out there who genuinely need to hear that the dynamic between Kara and Lena isn't health, it isn't okay, it's nothing to be emulated or envied. The relationship between Kara and Lena is sick, and toxic, and abusive. If anyone *ever* treats you the way Lena treats Kara. Run. I don't care what you've promised them. I don't care what committments you made. Run. Just run.

Because that kind of abuse will wear you down, it well tear you apart. It will make you long for death. It will make you dream of putting a gun in your mouth.

I know. Because it did all of that to me.

That's why I have two hundred plus posts tagged anti lena luthor.

But I'm not tagging this one that way, because it's not hating on a character to tell the truth. And the truth is, Lena Luthor is an abuser, and she's a villain.

#supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl meta #abuse #domestic abuse #abusive relationships

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theravenclawmonster · 4 years ago

Text

I thought getting diagnosed would be able to get me help...(post 2 of dunno how many)

The previous post of this series of posts can be found in this link post 1

Trigger warning: This post (and the later continuation posts after it titled the same) may contain mentions of abuse, mental illness, suicidal thoughts and many more things which i will try to edit in it after writing the post(s) (hopefully i’ll remember to) [yes, this is the same in all posts in series]

Disclaimer: this is just a written account of events that happened in my life in the past few weeks and my emotional/ physical response to those events. I am writing this here so that it stays here as help for people to read and maybe see what certain things feel like, and as proof or diary for when i forget what really happened and start to believe her words. Also, this is going to be a long post... a very long post.

Okay, where was i? The first visit to the doctor. I had my tests done and bought the acidity medicine and the vitamins he suggested (i had already started to take vitamins again since a couple of weeks before, he just added folic acid to that. I also have a bit of an issue with vitamins and people telling me to eat them indicating that all will be well after that; but more about that later). in the pharmacy, my mother was pretty upset with me cuz i kicked her out of the room and told me some stuff i don’t want to remember right now. ummm... basically she said “ why did you ask me to leave, what secret were you going to tell the doctor? what did you tell him we did to you? i know what you think about me. you could have just said it all in front of me. what was with all the secrecy” [funnily enough, although i did ask her to leave, my reason was cuz i can’t really speak in front of her (she interrupts a lot too) and i was worried that i’d cry and didn’t want to hear about it for another 6 months. there was no secret or i didn’t even think about mentioning the abuse, cuz how do you just go to a stranger and say “ hi i am in pain and my parents abuse me”. even asking for help for my pain was demanding enough for me.] . she also “informed” me very angrily that the it wasn’t allowed for a woman to be alone with a male doc, a nurse must be present (which was not present) and that is probably why doc didn’t do the proper physical checkup. Well! he should have (if he thought an extensive one was necessary; he did check my breathing and stomach softness), called a nurse in or my mother in. i didn’t have any issues with him doing my physical checkup alone too. and he didn’t mention anything about that to me at all.

Anyway, I went back thinking God knows how long was this process was going to take and if i had the energy to fight for myself and make people believe that i was actually in a lot of pain. the reports came back fine (the expensive test one too, to much displeasure of my father “but this came back fine, so expensive for no use. why did he even write that test?” as if it would have been somehow better to get a positive test back for a disease?! I really don’t know how his mind works. By the time all reports were in, it was time for my appointment at the psychiatrist and it was decided to go to her first, then on our way back show the reports to our primary doc. that way we could also talk to him about what she said.

Oh wait, i forgot to mention in my last post. the doctor only suggested the psychiatrist and later sent me her number saying that i have told her about you please take an appointment. i had to call her and i asked about her fees which she very nicely said would be discounted and that helping me and understanding what was stressing me was more important. I felt so weird then, i don’t really hear these type of things very often.... or almost ever.

going to the clinic was easy enough, of course my mother and father accompanied me. and my mother did follow in. [let me just add that i only remember about half of what happened so...] the doctor ( hereby referred to as Psy lady) asked me “so, how are you?” and i said “ i’m good *smiled awkwardly as she realised that was not what she meant to ask*. she was like okay, how do you feel and what do you want to discuss me with. so i just sat there like a dumbass. then i asked her how much the other doc told her about me. she said it was just that you are his patient and needs psychiatric help in his opinion.

I am just going to make a dialogue format written account for that and the next doctor’s visit as this seems way too confusing.

At that time (not sure) my mother interrupted;

Mother: *turned to me* “if you don’t mind may i tell her the history etc” *in pointed politeness*

Me: “ok.”

Mother: *launched from how i was such a brilliant smiling child and wanted to take this scholarship abroad but she said no* *went off a long tangent about how she was just being a nice worried parent in controlling my life and now feels guilty cuz i can’t let it go* *finished by saying* “Dr., she just can’t forget that, she is stressed no job plus the lock down etc you know how it is. then she found out she has scoliosis in january and i think she has taken it to heart, like really it is completely asymptomatic and i have asked the doc she won’t have any problems cuz of it in the future” (i am guessing she meant having babies but really who knows) “she has just taken stress over that”.

Psy lady : *scribbled something on her paper* “My i have some time alone with her?”

Mother: “yes yes sure” *left*

Psy lady : “so tell me a bit about yourself.”

Me: *was still fuming and recoiling and shaking in my seat cuz i just don’t understand until how long is my mother going to throw that in my face. it has been years and i wasn’t even that upset about it (at least i just quietly internalized it) but she refused, controlled my life (since birth btw and still does now) and not even let me do anything else i want to do, nor find a job, then proceeded to throw her ‘oh i feel so guilty, i am such a good parent. i have commited a crime by being caring and now i must be punished oh!’ at me. Like where am i in all that? you say no, you control, your guilt, your love, your care, your image as a parent that must never be broken. where am i in all that? ALSO you never listen to my complains about pain so shut up*

Psy lady: ...

Me: “umm... hi... i umm never had a dream, but then i found this thing in my mid-twenties and i loved it, but they didn’t let me pursue it, then didn’t let me do anything. and now they act like i am a burden on them. now i have nothing to do or like, and i can’t even find a job or have anywhere to go. i don’t even really wanna die, i am just tired” *burst into tears yet again as i realized i had no idea why i was telling her all that and it felt so fake and story like at the same time* “... i can’t even breathe and i am in so much pain all the time that i feel like detached from my body cuz every time i try to be in it it fucking hurts.”

Psy lady: “are your parents always this much controlling” *pointed to the door indicating my mother*

Me: “they are emotionally abusive”

Psy lady: *had been looking into my eyes but looked away at the word abusive and didn’t say anything*

Me: *continued after a little shock that i actually said it out loud* “I can’t walk, my knees hurt” *tried to repeat almost all that was possible from the previous doc* *also told her about feeling dissociative and explained a bit how that feels for me* * told her all about how i was fine in dragging me through life but now that my body has suddenly collapsed (where as before it was just emotional pain and numbness and occasional body pains in back and stuff nothing too overwhelming or maybe i was mentally strong to ignore it) i feel very scared and lost. I was dealing with everything fine on my own even when i felt like dying but now i cant handle anything, i can’t even act in front of others; something i am exceptionally good at* *talked about lowered brain function, slowness, low blood pressure, no energy suddenly, not being able to retain information or remember anything, not having a concept of time and memory*

Psy lady: *explained about DPDR disorder and asked me about sleep eating etc.*

Me: *repeated the same: loved sleep can’t now, loved eating can’t now*

After some time of explaining asking and answering, she said that i have depression and what happens is that our brain stops making certain chemicals and to get it to make them again we have 2 options. one is medicine; the other is motivation and exercises. it seems like the latter would be hard for me (and i confirmed that i infact cannot walk or do almost anything and exercise is too painful cuz pain everywhere) she said that the best route in my situation is to start the medicine for some weeks (she said she’d not give them for more than 4 months; whole course including tapering them out) and explained that the medicines were very safe and answered all my queries about dependency on them or side effects etc. I said if that is what she thinks would be best and if taking them means i could feel alive again and my brain function would return to normal.

she then asked me to bring my mother back in. she explained the medicines to her and said i have diagnosed her with MDD. My mother asked what is that. She said Moderate Depressive disorder. my mother asked if the medicine was necessary. she said yes, and to not worry as these were safe and she’s only giving to get me started and pull me out of this extreme state, only for a short time. she also said that come back after 10 days of eating these, so we can see the effect and the side effects if any, and that day she’d also get me an appointment for a psychologist who worked in the same clinic as she thinks it would help me immensely. we agreed. took the medicine and left for the doc no. 1′s clinic. My mother didn’t say anything.

we reached his office and throughout the short car ride and while sitting there waiting for my turn, i was feeling very... accomplished? enthusiastic? Dunno... I was just trying not to cry cuz i finally had it written on paper, i was finally diagnosed, i had finally gotten help. yes, it was only a start and i don’t know much about how doctors work diagnosis and how much more can be added in future visits but it was a start. i finally did something to actually help me.

Finally, our turn came. we showed him the reports and told him what she said and prescribed. My mother asked him if the meds were necessary.

doc: “yeah they really believe in starting meds right away.”

mother: “I don’t want her to take them, it’s like giving up. she can use her will power and get better right?” [she also added something very weird like ‘these stamps (mental disorders diagnosed on paper) are not good for a woman’ or something along this line]

Doc: “yes she can. i too would suggest she do that.”

Mother: *went off on a long tangent about how when she was my age she had depression after having my older sister. but she will-powered through it and didn’t take the meds etc*

doc: “yes i agree, but it really depends on her is she willing to do it” *in a tone that suggested that i should say yes immediately and will-power though life*

Me: * realizing no one is listening to me* “doctor, can you please talk with the Psy lady and ask her if they are necessary in her opinion cuz i have no will left to power though with.”

Doc: “okay.” *called her and talked right then* * told her that he thinks it would be better to willpower through it?

Mother: “well she can will-power through right?”

Doc: “well the Psy lady said that she has been powering through with her will power for years; she has none left anymore. so she thinks that meds are the best option and besides” *looked at the prescription again* “these meds are not addictive and very safe.”

Mother: * insisted on no meds for 15 more minutes and had a long discussion with doc about praying, watching motivational speakers and what not*

doc: *joined in enthusiastically*

Me: *stared into the distance and stops listening with my wobbly neck and painful back*

Doc: “well she is not even listening. can you do it? exercise?”

me: “no it hurts, as i have explained before, not like the yayy muscle cramping up cuz i worked out way and i will love exercise in 2 weeks time way. No! the tendons hurt the bones hurt the joints hurt extremely painfully and it increases with time, even after 2-3 weeks it doesn’t get better.”

Doc: “okay, how about friends? social life? what do you do at home etc”

Me: “my friends are not here, i never made new ones. no social life. even when i was going to class before the lock down, it was from home to uni, uni to home. had no friends there. and i did walked in uni for about half an hour or even more but it hurt in the beginning, i thought okay, cramps (although my knees and heels were very painful too) but it almost felt like it got better (the cramps part) but then it got way worse and after a month i couldn’t walk for more than 10 minutes at a very slow painful speed.”

Doc: *asked about pets, anything that would suggest i was a living being with a life*

Me: “pets are not allowed and so is leaving the house by myself.”

Mother: *interjected* “we have never restricted her for anything.”

By this time, i had frankly given up and i don’t remember what happened next or where the conversation went. just remember something along the lines of “ for these 10-15 days before the next Psy lady appointment, let her do whatever she likes to, don’t ask her don’t control her. let her start up her social life again. she needs to be around friends and the things she can enjoy” something like this. to which my mother said very confidently “sure whatever she wants to do”

then, we left his office and in the car she told me to “not eat the meds as we have ‘now discussed it with your doctor”

this is getting way longer. i think i’d make one more post about it, or maybe one more after that for bits that i forgot. this post seems so badly written upon second inspection. this is not even the 40% of what happened but i don’t remember what happened exactly, or even the timeline.

The third and hopefully last post of this series can be found here post 3

#emotional abuse #abuse #actually abused #abusive parents #depression #MDD #chronic pain #tired of life #dpdr disorder #dissociation #scoliosis #migraine

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