#This later became a trigger for me because of...all the people living in the same building as me and ALWAYS choose to be around my door to

[nadas-dirthalen]

Veilguard Theorycrafting Week 2: My Best Guess at 1200 Years of Mythal Shenanigans

Welcome, one and all! While I count down to Veilguard's Halloween release, I'm going to dissect one tinfoil hat theory I have per week.

This week: I'm going to try and guess what Mythal has been up to since the end of the First Blight—and why Vivial, one of Andraste's children, is the key to understanding everything about modern Mythal.

Elaboration, brainstorming, and sources below the cut! Be warned: this post is LONG.

SPOILERS for the Trespasser DLC, Tevinter Nights, and all Dragon Age games so far, INCLUDING VEILGUARD PROMOTIONAL CONTENT.

I'll be honest, folks, I thought I was going to do this post in a later week. But with as much content about the story coming out as it is right now, I wanted to get ahead of the game on Morrigan/Morriflemythal speculation.

The tl;dr here is: I think Mythal started the First Blight with the intention of finding a human host. I think she became Andraste, and that every one of her identities thereafter has been a descendant of Andraste.

So without further ado, let's go over this chronologically. Walk with me.

Part 1: Who Mythal Was Before Her Death & Why She Was Killed

I'm going to briefly gloss over this portion, because I already wrote a post in this series on what I think of the relationship between Mythal, lyrium, and the other Evanuris. Find all the specifics there!

Suffice it to say:

Mythal, though sea-coded, has more dealings with "the earth" than most of the other Evanuris (that we know of), and we know "earth" to be synonymous with "Deep Roads" and "lyrium."

The other Evanuris fought her, and each other, over this.

Mythal, however, avoided outright bloodshed for a long time. She was their judge. She advised them on nonlethal combat.

Various Flemeth dialogues imply that there was marital/domestic violence that Elgar'nan inflicted upon Mythal, up to and including SA. I don't have enough sources to affirm any specifics, and I don't want to get into very triggering territory, so I will leave it there.

We know that a spark of Mythal's soul lived on after her murder, and that she was never imprisoned by Solas like the other Evanuris. Thus, she has been free, unlike the others (that we know of) to seek other hosts for her spirit.

But she would not find success in this for millennia. Freeing her spirit to move while her archdemon was trapped belowground may have proved impossible. To find a new host, she may have had to free her archdemon — and for that, she would need existing mortals to do the freeing.

I (and many others) think she would not find success in this until the First Blight — the one that ended the same year Andraste was born.

Part 2: The First Blight & the Archdemon Dumat

For a long time, many people theorized that Dumat was Elgar'nan's archdemon. Many people theorized that archdemons were something else entirely, but recently it was confirmed (more or less?) that an archdemon is a dragon containing the sundered spirit of an Evanuris, much like Corypheus' did, to house their soul and keep them immortal.

But I think Mythal used the First Blight as a way to free Dumat's soul and transfer it to a living host.

Let me sum up the First Blight as fast as I can:

It began (supposedly) after the Magisters Sidereal crossed physically into the Fade and visited the "Golden City."

They did so because their gods (the archdemons) began whispering to them — and Dumat was the first to do so.

The archdemon Dumat then led this Blight for two hundred years.

During that time, Dumat was killed once, only to come back later. This is because his soul (like Corypheus in DAI) resurrected in the body of another darkspawn shortly thereafter.

It ended at The Battle of Silent Plains in -203 Ancient (just south of the city Solas, for those keeping track at home) and caused the explosion that gave the Silent Plains their name, for nothing could grow there in the ~1200 years thereafter.

To me, Dumat being first to whisper to the Magisters Sidereal bears similarities to Mythal whispering to Flemeth during the hour of Flemeth's greatest need. I believe she knew that unleashing a Blight was the only way to move her sundered spirit out of her archdemon — and into a living host on the surface.

We know that typically, during a Blight, a Grey Warden must be the one to land the killing blow on an Archdemon — and that, if successful, both the soul of the Warden and the soul of the Archdemon are destroyed.

We also know there is one way to circumvent this: by a Warden impregnating someone during a ritual that we learn from Flemeth. This results in a baby born that houses the soul of an old god — AKA, we now know from the DA:tV combat release video, a sundered piece of an Evanuris (presumably).

A mortal host, free of the Blight. Just what Mythal would want.

Enter: Andraste, born in -203 Ancient.

Part 3: From Silence, Justice. From Dumat, Andraste.

Firstly: look at that beautiful crown, people. That lovely crown in Dragon Age: Origins in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Don't worry: we'll see it again and again and again in later games. :)

It's not just the year of Andraste's birth that makes me think she was born with Dumat's soul. I think her parentage is just as important to my understanding of her origins.

Namely, that her father may have married Andraste's mother, Brona, but also fathered a child with his advisor on matters of alchemy, who was said by Andraste to whisper of the old gods. I can find no record of anyone else in that time period who might have access to understanding of the ritual to create an old-god-imbued child from the slaying of an archdemon.

Now, you may be asking, How do we know that other daughter wasn't born with the soul of Dumat? Why Andraste, specifically?

The truth is: either daughter may have been born with the soul of Dumat. But crucially, only one daughter survived their childhood. And the circumstances of that death scream "weird magic" to me.

Andraste woke up one stormy night to find her sister following lights into the woods. She followed her sibling, after which an unspecified event of violence occurred. Halliserre was found dead in a burned clearing, having suffered wounds beyond weapons, while fires sparked throughout the forest. Andraste was found pale but alive, uncertain of what she had seen, and developed a sickness of the lungs that would prevent her from bearing children for a decade. [...] In the aftermath of the event, Andraste reported hearing voices and talked of strange auras and the sounds of bells. Several years later, Andraste began saying that heresy had played a part in her sister's death, suggesting that Halliserre's mother had been involved in worship of the Old Gods.

My theory is this: one of the sisters was born with the soul of Dumat. It does not matter which, since Flemeth was later able to remove an old god soul from a child in DA:I (more on that later), so we know that that magic is possible even in Andraste's time.

What we do know is that the surviving daughter, Andraste, reported hearing voices. She claimed a connection with the Maker.

But regardless of who was speaking to her in dreams and meditations after this moment, I believe it was Mythal whispering to her in that forest. And whatever happened, I believe that Andraste emerged not just with an old god soul, but another piece of Mythal. The same that would later travel into Flemeth, and then Morrigan.

Andraste went into that forest a child, old god soul or not. She came out the vessel for an Evanuris, holding knowledge that she had no idea how to comprehend.

And regardless of the events of her life, that soul would continue to travel after her death—into the souls of her daughters, the only children she ever bore herself.

Part 4: Andraste's Daughters

Andraste only ever had two children of her own: daughters Ebris and Vivial. I think Mythal influenced both girls from the beginning, because, "They were kept out of the public eye and not permitted to marry, though both had consorts."

In short: they could not marry, but they were allowed to bear children.

Following Andraste's death, I think Mythal's soul went into the first of these daughters: Ebris. It makes sense for her to have chosen the elder child, the one likely to be wiser and more experienced. But we know just one thing about Ebris:

Ebris had but one child, Alli Vemar, who perished on a voyage to Denerim—less than a month after her mother fell to plague, and without children of her own.

Ebris — Mythal's next choice for a vessel — died. Less than a month later, the one who I believe to have been Mythal's next choice for a host, Alli, perished on a voyage. And after Alli, there were no more children (nevermind daughters) in that line. No new hosts that were immediate descendants.

So where should Flemeth turn but Vivial? There was just one problem.

The younger daughter, Vivial, was more controversial: a strong-headed woman who defied her family by falling in love with a mage of Tevinter, Regulan. Vivial and Regulan went into self-imposed exile as the Exalted March began, and into hiding following Andraste's betrayal and murder.

Vivial had been in hiding since just after Andraste's murder. By the time Alli died, Vivial was gone. And her descendants?

What became of Vivial and her descendants is largely unknown for one primary reason: she had only daughters. Each of those daughters only had daughters. They married into other families and took other names, and in the chaos of the Second Blight, all traces of survivors were lost. Andraste's true bloodline, if it exists, lies solely in the descendants of Vivial.

Gone. All of the daughters of Andraste's daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters, were scattered across Thedas, all with different surnames.

If Mythal wanted to continue existing in living hosts, she would have to find them. And it would take hundreds of years.

Part 5: Heir and Spare... and Spare... and Spare...

It's only rumor that Flemeth was born in 3:00 Towers. Much of Flemeth, unsurprisingly, is rumor. But one thing, Morrigan confirms as true: she is Flemeth's daughter, and this means she is doomed to become a vessel for Flemeth one day.

But how did that begin? Legend says Flemeth was an abomination, harboring Vengeance, but this does not seem to be the full story. From the wiki:

Although Morrigan at first believed Flemeth to be an abomination, she later realized that Flemeth is not truly human. Flemeth herself reveals to The Inquisitor that the Fereldan legends of the Witch of the Wilds share one aspect that is true: Flemeth fled the Alamarri and asked spirits for help. Flemeth then admits that Mythal answered, and in exchange for fulfillment of Flemeth's request, she possessed her.

I believe Flemeth is the first of Vivial's descendants (that we know of) who reached out directly to Mythal in a way that would actually reach Mythal. I believe Mythal leapt at the chance to help Flemeth, in exchange for living within Flemeth.

And once the two were one and Flemeth understood Mythal's true aims, she would proceed to birth daughter after daughter to keep she and Mythal alive, all to pursue vengeance against (presumably) the Evanuris who killed her in the first place.

Part 6: The Morrigan of It All (and the Kieran of it all, too)

We know Morrigan is next in line for becoming Mythal's vessel. We know it for sure from the recent Veilguard release date trailer, but this has been a looming threat since Dragon Age: Origins. Morrigan admits this herself.

But I think there is more than that, because of the Kieran of it all.

I don't think Bioware are clumsy enough to write that in only some world states, the archdemon Urthemiel's soul still lives on. It would be impossible to properly bring into Veilguard if there was just sometimes an old god kid running around in a game all about vanquishing the threat of the Evanuris and their archdemons.

I think they knew this in Inquisition. In all Inquisition world states, if Kieran exists, Mythal removes Urthemiel's old god soul from his body. She says, "I am not the only one carrying the soul of a being long thought lost."

I posit that this is the reason for the "appointment" that Flemeth "had to keep" at the start of Dragon Age 2: that she was passing by Lothering on her way to Denerim, where she was going to do... something with Uthemiel's soul. If she arrives in Denerim and does not find it, she understands that only Morrigan can have done something about it, using Flemeth's grimoire.

What Mythal intended to do with Urthemiel's soul, we cannot possibly understand. In our impression of things, if the Warden or Alistair sacrificed themselves to kill Urthemiel, that should be it. Both souls should be erased.

But if that were truly the case, why would Solas be so afraid of the Grey Wardens attempting to find and slay the old gods in Inquisition? Wouldn't that be a good thing, to see them destroyed?

I think those old god/archdemon souls are lurking elsewhere — and I think Mythal might know where. Whether that means the other Evanuris have been doing more than we think they have since the Veil's creation remains to be seen.

How do I know? Because Mythal passed her soul onto Morrigan at the end of Inquisition, in that last scene with the eluvian, before Solas arrived (which was confirmed in a dev note, but I do not currently have the source for it). Once he did arrive, he took what power remained — but I believe it is Urthemiel, not Mythal's soul, that he took.

Part 7: Veilguard Predictions

Now, time for me to dump various things from my Veilguard bingo card. :) In no particular order:

I think we're going to realize that Solas is carrying around some of Urthemiel. Maybe.

If this is true, then I think we're going to see more of the Evanuris than just Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, and the others that we see might be hiding within mortals. Maybe even allies...

(Did someone say Bellara-Dirthamen? Dirthara? Me. I did. I wrote a post about some of it.)

I think Morrigan is going to confirm all of the Andraste-Vivial-Morriflemythal theorycrafting I've done above, and explain how this relates to the Tevinter Chantry.

If ALL of this is true, I think Morriflemythal (if not Emmrich/the Mourn Watch) might be our key to un-demoning Lucanis, as well as un-demoning Solas, and whoever the hell else needs un-demoning.

And, of course, a million other things that could happen!

If you got this far, thanks always for reading. And if I'm wildly off base or you have something to add, lemme know! <3

[foreheadkiss3s]

tate langdon x gn! reader.

trigger warnings : really sad thoughts going through the readers mind. i let my drama queen take over and everything came out too dramatic.

angst/ fluff at the end if you squint your eyes really hard.

this is so messy, really, it’s just a drabble i wanted to put out but i think i’ll probs end up deleting it since i feel like it’s cringey. also, english is not my first language so whatever (and wherever) mistake you might find, please bear with me.

I know it might be confusing, or even worse, not make sense at all. but i just let my messy thoughts flow and that’s the result.

just to get things a bit more clear, tate is still alive and dealing with his situation back home while reader is the only friend he managed to make in high school. the reader was at the house, not the murder house ( let’s just assume the reader’s house it’s near that ) and tate just presented himself there after the reader became distant with him.

« I’m sorry. »

You know about those days, when you wake up and your eyes reflexively land on the window? And then they wander up, and get to notice the soft hue of the blue sky, lightened up by the sun? And it’s almost as if you could feel the warmth of the sun rays seeping through your window?

Perhaps it’s the warmth of the covers, the cozy feeling that you get every time when you just wake up and that later on makes you whine because you know you’ll have to leave that warm place soon to get up and get ready for school. But it’s almost as if you had a restart.

For five minutes— sometimes even less, it depends on how much it takes your brain to process the world outside of your mind again— you get to feel like you’ve just been reborn, and that everything would be alright.

But then it all comes crumbling down.

Your brain registers where you are, the reality you live, and the obnoxious routine you have to do everyday. Get up. Brush your teeth and hair. Skip breakfast because you’re always late. Get dressed. Go to school. Wish to get home during and in between classes. Get finally home, but then you get frustrated because it’s always the same damn thing.

You don’t know what it is that frustrates you, that angers you so much and sometimes even makes you cry. That drains you, leaving you so exhausted that you end up falling asleep only to wake up the next morning and experience the same thing again.

Perhaps, you think, that you’re crazy. Maybe you’re spiralling out of reality. Maybe you’re just being an ungrateful teenager. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe you just want to sleep forever.

But, when you think you can’t take it no more, here comes Tate.

Sometimes you think he’s weird. Not in a bad way, you think he’s just.. weird. He’s one of the most pessimistic people you know, always looking down on the human specie and labelling it as some sort of stupid being. Yet, when it comes to the state you’re slowly falling in, he seems to suck it out of you.

You don’t know how to explain it properly— you don’t even understand it yourself, but it’s almost as if he is a sponge. Just by staying near you, he sucks all the darkness away. He’s like a black hole, but instead of absorbing everything he just absorbs your darkness. Or perhaps he’s just a little hypocrite that doesn’t allow you to be pessimistic just like he is.

Even though you know.. you know that referring to Tate as pessimistic is the least you could call him.

You hate it when he gets clingy, and that happens very often. Who are you kidding? it always happens, hence why you always resort to unkind ways to get him to leave you. You just want to be alone sometimes.

Tate might argue with you and say that it’s more than sometimes, it’s always.

You’re not a good person, you know that. You’re selfish and you don’t care who you’re hurting when it comes to you and the decisions you make.

You didn’t care when you started hanging out with a boy and spent less and less time with Tate. Why did you do it though? You still question yourself.

Yeah, he might be clingy, attached to your hip, dependant on you and the list could go on just like that. But he was the only one that showed you how much you mean, or perhaps, how much you could mean to somebody.

You never thought it possible that a being could be so much for another being.

Tate is your only friend. Even though you’re not sure of that anymore since all you did for the past few weeks—maybe month, was avoiding and ignoring him.

At the beginning it was just to get a little time alone. But then it started becoming more of an avoidance, and now? You thought you were avoiding him out of shame.

But he was your only friend, and you pushed him away for what? To test if you could feel something different than the void you were currently drowning in? How could you have been that selfish?

His eyes seem to be asking you the same questions as he stares deep down inside your soul. His kaleidoscope honeyed eyes.

« I’ll.. » a sob breaks his voice, and his attempt to hold back his tears fails, making the tears break through and fall down his cheeks like diamonds, «.. I’ll leave never bother you again if that’s what you want »

For the first time in weeks you feel something so authentically powerful that it almost knocks the breath out of your lungs.

You’re sat there, on your messy, still unmade, bed as you’re looking into his eyes. And he stares back at you almost as if he has already been there, in that position— unwanted and thrown to the side, times and times before. But still it causes him pain.

It’s a subtle but yet stinging feeling. Like a cut being slit open again by a sharp dagger with its blade covered in salt. It’s a swift movement, a methodical cut, because it always seems to be hurting in the same spot.

You don’t say anything.

« You’re just like her. » Constance. Tears stream down his face like pouring rain. His voice taking the resemblance of a wave as sometimes it gets higher and other times it comes crashing down, stopping abruptly to let his tears fall down silently.

Just like rain in the ocean.

Silence fills the room yet again.

« Please.. p-please.. » How come that he’s the one begging you and not the other way around? What is he pleading for?

You frown looking at him, still staring into his eyes like a stone cold bitch. And you might’ve even been one to someone else’s eyes. But not to his.

You were just as hurt and lost as he was.

He got down on his knees, sliding on them on the carpeted floor until he was by your legs, as you were still sitting down on your bed. He sobbed and sniffled as he got in between your legs and let his head slowly come down to rest on your lap. «..d-don’t leave me.

you’re the only thing I have left.. y-you don’t have to do anything just.. p-please.. please I need you. You’re everything to me.. I-I’m.. I.. »

How could you have let everything spin out of control?

You were sorry.

You were so sorry.

Your vision became so blurry, almost as if a plastic wall was swiftly building itself up on your eyes, until it broke down and you felt warm droplets of water strike your cheeks. You were sorry as you could see the hurting boy sobbing on your lap because of your selfish behaviour.

You didn’t know what had happened to you to get you to this point, to hurt mindlessly like that the only person that cared about you. But you knew you were sorry and you wanted to wipe everything you did away.

Your hand, slowly, made its way on his head covered by the soft honeyed hair. You let your fingers slip and comb through the strands of his hair while you finally felt something.

« I’m sorry. » a broken whisper left your mouth.

just wanted to apologize again as i’m sure it came out more cringy than anything, but if you have some advice to give me please feel free to leave a comment ( or just straight up tell me to stop writing and never do it again 🤪 ).

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i reached out to someone who said they didn't want to talk to me again while in an episode?

i (21nb) and N (23nb) were best friends for years as teenagers. we did everything together on weekends, and were so close that we almost became partners (and really acted like it). our friend group slowly drifted apart as we became adults and started our own lives, as high school friends often do.

awhile ago we started talking again and catching up, and we were really excited to hang out again! we ended up working at the same place over the summer, and were excited to be coworkers. but over the week, he started being strange to me and telling me over and over how stressed he was. i knew he was historically unstable when under a lot of stress (me too), so i tried to keep an eye on him and look out for him.

it all came to a head at the end of the week, when there was a high-stress situation at work. multiple people were triggered, and i was trying to handle both the kids in the situation and corral the unhelpful adults. N ended up being one of the unhelpful adults, so i asked him nicely to take a step back from the situation so the problem put in charge of it could finish handling it.

well, N exploded. he yelled at me in front of my boss, my coworkers, and several children that i was out of line telling him what to do. i got upset and tried to talk to him, but he stalked off angrily. a few minutes later, he came back again to yell at me more, saying i had "talked to him like a child" and that i obviously didn't respect him and his skills. he told me never to contact him again after we were finished working together.

upset, i went to a supervisor and told them what happened, and asked that he be talked to for yelling at me in front of children. i mentioned that i was sympathetic to him and didn't want him punished, because i understand what it's like to have volatile mental illness and be unstable.

somehow he found out that i said that and got even more triggered, texting me to harass me for the rest of our week together and insisting that he does not have volatile mental illness, that he never said he did, and that i was pathologizing his justified behavior. i was confused and said that he had told me multiple times that we had the same struggles, and that i was trying to be sympathetic, but he insisted that i was lying and said again that i shouldn't contact him and blocked me.

now, here's my question. it's been awhile since this happened, and i do really miss him. i feel like i must have done Something wrong here, but i don't entirely know what it was that set N off so harshly. i am thinking of reaching out to him and asking if he can explain his perspective and listen to mine so that we can find some common ground and at least be cordial if we work together again. i want to respect his boundaries and if he told me no i wouldn't argue- but N was clearly triggered in some way and speaking out of emotion, and usually when that happens to me i regret my words after. so WIBTA if i just reached out once? looking for input from other severely mentally ill people here specifically please

What are these acronyms?

[cheegu3]

Heloo may I request a enhypen reaction when y/n killed themselves and left a note saying "this is all your fault"

Sorry if this makes you uncomfy

oh not at all, I was only on the fence about writing this bc idk if talking about this topic is allowed on tumblr, but I hope u didn’t feel a lot of anxiety when sending in this ask 😭 it is a little short so sorry abt that :c some of the notes are a bit different too to switch it up!

tw / trigger warning: yandere, dark themes, depression, suicide, self-harm, sad asf, cursing, violence, blood, suicide-note, vomiting, gun

pls do not read if this triggers or offends you or if you're struggling !!

Yandere!Enhypen - reaction to you unaliving yourself

Jungwon

He didn't know how to react when he found you dead. No tears fell down his face as he looked for a pulse, clutching your cold hand in his.

When he spotted a note lying a few meters away, a heavy sigh left his lips and he gave you a pained look.

' This is all because of you. If only you'd treated me like a normal boyfriend would, maybe we could've been soulmates. I hope you feel pain for the rest of your life. '

The more Jungwon stared at the note, blaming him for all of your pain and problems; the more he felt like he had to fight to hold back the tears that were itching to fall.

At the same time, he found a strange anger bubbling inside of him. Not only did you - the love of his life, leave him in this way but you had to wish him pain in your last breath too?

He became blinded by anger. The hand that was holding the note clenched and the paper crumbled under it.

He will try to stay alive just to spite you. Trying his best to move on and get happy, maybe fall in love again and find a family just so he could get his revenge; as you watched from above and realized you meant nothing to him.

But Jungwon never got over you, not really.

Heeseung

He got angry immediately, cussing you out and almost getting the urge to hit you. Instead, he took his anger out on a mirror and felt some sense of relief when he started to bleed.

He blamed himself of course. He had been wrong about how you were feeling, even though he often prided himself on having been able to read you like an open book.

He didn't notice your spark slowly dying out; the more he got angry the more he got jealous, and then the more you were punished for the smallest things.

It got to a point where you couldn't even live in the moment and enjoy the short times when he was a sweet boyfriend again, because you were always scared of what would tick him off a few seconds later.

' I'm sorry, Hee. I was so tired of fighting. I love you,

y/n. '

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He could only manage to hold them back for a few seconds before he doubled over and sobbed loudly.

The room filled with loud wails of pain that would even make angels cry. Anyone that heard it would know just how much he loved you.

Heeseung clutched his chest right where his aching heart felt like it was being ripped out of him. '' I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, '' he kept whispering until he was tired of crying for hours and it turned into shaky murmurs.

He fell asleep, hoping it would be eternal, with your body in his arms; dried tears on his cheeks being replaced by new ones, as even in his sleep he couldn't escape seeing his lover.

Jay

It was the worst phone call he had ever received. He didn't know how to react after it ended, only staring blankly into the distance as his thoughts went crazy.

He needed to see you with his own eyes to believe it so he rushed home. His stomach sank when he spotted the ambulance. Quickly he pushed through the people to get to you.

But when he reached you and saw your lifeless body on the stretcher, he didn't know what to do yet again. A stupid voice inside him told him he should keep his cool in front of all the spectators, even while the love of his life lay dead in front of him.

Did he want to cry, scream, or hold you?

He lowered his eyes to get the image of you like that out of his head. Still in shock, he went inside, locked the doors, and shut the windows' blinds.

He stayed like that for days; barely eating, seeing the sun, or getting out of bed. No matter how bad his depression got and how the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to get further and further away, he still refused to cry.

There was a reason. Your note.

He had seen it while cleaning his house that day he got home. Not wanting to let his thoughts get to him, he started sterilizing and cleaning the whole house. When he then got to the bedroom, a small green note poked out underneath the bed.

He crouched and was about to throw it away until he turned it over and read the first and only line.

' this is all your fault '

And after that, he'd never be the same man again. Most days he wondered if he was even human anymore, he didn't feel anything.

Jake

'' Y/n! I'm home. ''

Jake's face scrunched up as he pouted when you didn't come running to him like usual. Something felt wrong, a bad feeling brewed in his stomach, growing in size the more he moved around in his apartment.

He went further in, peeking around the corners but not calling out for you anymore. It felt better to explain the bad feeling by thinking you were doing something you weren't supposed to, rather than you being hurt; so he moved quietly so he could catch you in the act.

Inside the office, you were nowhere to be found. He guessed you had snuck in there to write to your loved ones or maybe snoop through his stuff. Defeatedly he sighed and moved on, eyes getting caught by the door to the bedroom being slightly open.

Jake stopped in his step and turned back.

'' Y/n? Are you in there? Come out please, I just want to talk, '' he tried, his voice coming out a lot more whiny and desperate than he'd planned.

But he got no response except for silence. His worry grew. One deep breath later he pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

It slowly creaked open, revealing the room little by little. He fell to his knees and gasped.

You were lying in a pool of blood. At first, he felt a surge of anger - who could've done this to you? Then, his attention drifted to the small folded note next to you, and his heart sank.

'' No, please don't say...'' he trailed off, hurrying to unwrap the paper with so much panic that he almost ripped it.

' I wanted to meet my friend one last time, that's all I asked for, but like always it was about what you wanted. We both know that this was all your fault. '

Overcome with despair and grief it wouldn't take long for Jake to join you. He couldn't stand being apart, and he'd find you wherever you were, even in death.

Sunghoon

He felt very angry at you, not himself. Yes, he had dared you to do it while the two of you were in the middle of a screaming match but he hadn't expected you to actually pick up a gun.

The image of you staring at him, tears in your eyes, and that look on your face, which was the last he'd see of you, would forever be etched in his mind.

He couldn't sleep at night. It was like it was burned into the back of his eyes too.

Once your body fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew you were gone without even having to check your pulse.

'' Do it, '' those were his last words to the one person he loved.

He felt sick suddenly, rushing to the bathroom to throw up everything and then some more.

In that bathroom he stayed for hours, just staring blankly at the tiles on the wall, not saying a word or moving an inch. After the sun started setting outside and the light caught his eyes, he finally got up and went to where he had last left you.

You hadn't moved. Sunghoon crouched down next to you and started digging in your pockets for your phone. Something sharp brushed against his palm.

He took it out and saw that it was a note. Unraveling it, he discovered it was a suicide note you must've written a long time ago. Had you always had it on you? Just in case.

' I hate you '

He clenched his fist around the paper, it broke. '' Weak, '' he whispered under his breath and got up.

It was a coping mechanism to place all the anger on you. God knows what he would've done if he started letting that transfer to himself. But, even the anger couldn't stop him from missing you - every single day.

Sunoo

He would blame himself immensely, not having room to be mad at you at all. All that he felt for you was pity and empathy. He tried putting himself in your shoes for the first time and it was a heartbreak he'd never experienced before.

He went to school that day, so excited to see you, only to feel horror as he pushed through the crowd that had formed curiously and saw your body there.

It felt like slow-motion when the wind made you turn and you made eye contact with him. Whispers spread like wildfire all around him, surrounding him completely.

Sunoo felt confused and scared, his eyes darted around anxiously and he tried slipping out. Someone pushed him back.

'' You did this! ''

His head snapped up. A girl, your friend, was standing on the table overlooking the whole classroom. Her eyes were red from crying and in her hand, she was holding something white.

' I'm sorry to do this here, but it's because of my boyfriend, he's controlling and an obsessive, crazy person. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of him. I'm sorry, I love you '

His world fell apart in an instant. He had no idea you'd been feeling like that, why didn't you tell him? He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he came to a realization - you did, and he didn't listen.

He was finally allowed to push through the crowd and run away from the school which he'd never again return to. Tears streamed down his face the whole way home, and they didn't stop even as he reached it.

In his mind, all the ' what if-s ' played. What if he fixed himself and was less obsessive, would you have stayed then? What if he was less jealous, would you have loved him back? What if...what if.

Ni-ki

He tried distracting his mind by both rationalizing it to soften the blow, saying '' we probably weren't made for each other anyway '', and trying to go on dates with other girls.

However, every time he did so, he'd zone out and wish that it was you sitting across from him instead. He started daydreaming which brought a smile to his face until it dropped almost as suddenly as it had come when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't you.

They could never be you.

Suddenly he was angry at them, cursing and telling them to leave him alone and to never text him again.

Deep down he knew he'd never love anyone like you again, and you were actually meant for him; but he hated admitting it and to spare himself from more pain, might never admit it.

That was the thing, you were meant for him. Not anymore; you didn't exist anymore, because of him. He knew that now that his soulmate was gone forever, his bleak days would never be lit up by you again.

Just thinking of that smile, the only one that managed to get through his tough and cold exterior, made him feel like crying or punching something.

He then thought of the note, which he often did, and your body at the morgue because he hadn't come home quick enough to see you, and for that he was grateful; seeing you like that would've driven him to the edge.

The note, the one that read, ' I'm sorry, Riki. I tried, I really did. I love you, -y/n '

[interstellarsystem]

Waking Up After 10 Years of Dormancy – Identity, Grief, and Change

Long post ahead. This is a recount of my experiences as a headmate who was present in childhood, and then went dormant before waking up again in our 20s. There will be discussion of grief and dormancy in here, and mentions of abuse and headmate death without going into detail.

This is partially for the alterhumanovember / alterhuman writing challenge, and partially to get all of my thoughts out.

I’m Dain, a member of my system that all of the others never knew existed. I was here during childhood, though the exact year I came into existence is unknown, we think I became alive around 2008-2009. I lived alongside others sharing my body for years–maybe even up until 2014-2015. I fell into dormancy around then, and the current system had no idea I ever existed, as when I went to sleep, I took a lot of memories with me.

I don’t remember many of the others I shared time with, just that there was one we considered “the child”, what we would now call the original. I now know there was a switch between the original child and a new headmate, Archie, who isn’t the same person–but I’ll refer to them collectively as “the child” from now on, as my perspective was at the time. 

We–the others in the body–were there, living alongside the child, and I was protecting them along the way. I don’t remember fronting often, moreso… Silently observing, unable to move the body or communicate with them, but still there. Like a background process on a device. If emotions got high enough, I found myself in full control of the body, and I could get us out of whatever situation we had gotten ourselves into. Bullies at school, abusive figures in our lives be it parents or teachers, and other general stress–that was my battle to fight. I was the anger stored up behind the child’s fear, ready to lash out if needed.

As we got older, I started taking control less and less–not because we stopped needing me, but because the child had closed themselves off. They stopped allowing themselves to feel as deeply, and I was triggered into the front a lot less. Nowadays, I’d be aware it wasn’t a conscious choice, and was heavy dissociation, but back then I didn’t know. Some of the others–namely, the Pokemon I also shared the body with–had disappeared since our parents and friends were belittling us for still having “imaginary friends”. The child never spoke of me to anyone though, if they even knew I was there. So I think I only remained a little longer because of that. I’m not sure when I fell into dormancy, or if there was something that triggered it, or simply a gradual slip into sleep.

I woke up, though. At the end of last month, some others in our system had been looking at my source material. Deltora Quest, an anime based on an Australian authors novel–niche, mostly known to those who grew up in the time to watch it air on TV, or had ever picked up the books. We were looking at it again with our partner system, because we remembered it had been a huge special interest of ours as a kid, and had finally gotten around to watching more of it. Something about rekindling the interest woke me, and I was suddenly in the body again.

It, to me, was like I blinked. A foggy memory of being a child, still stressed about school, parents, and whatever else–and then a blink–and then, here. In a body I didn’t recognise, in a house I’d never been in, sharing control of the body with people I had never in my life met before. I still had all those memories of trauma, hurt and fear from before–and they all surfaced at the same time with me. I instantly panicked. After explaining where I was, Xeros, the person in cofront with me, told me that writing out everything coming into my brain could help us all organise and piece it together later. I did what it said, and wrote well over 2000 words before my thoughts slowed down a little bit–enough to actually focus. I called our partner system, calmed down after processing a bit more, and then got into bed to sleep off the residual panic.

It’s definitely taken a long while to come to terms with it. Effectively, I was in a coma for around 10 years, and the whole world moved on without me. I wasn’t in contact with any friends I remembered from before except one–who had changed a lot in the time that passed. I didn’t live where I remembered. Our siblings were so much older, as were our parents. We dropped out of school (though we’d be well past finished it by now). We got diagnosed with a whole bunch of things. We came out as transgender and are essentially completely socially transitioned and looking into HRT–even our parents know. And they know about our system too! Almost everything–if not absolutely everything–I knew before had changed in the blink of an eye. It absolutely shook me, to have my entire world uprooted and rearranged into something I couldn’t recognise as being something I have any part in. 

I felt an intrinsic heartache and felt full-blown grief over a life that, in my own experience, was “lost” through the irreparable change of time. There was no way of going back, no way of gaining back my lost years, and no way of bringing people I was close to back in contact with us or out of internal dormancy aside from sheer chance. We hadn’t died, but I had effectively died for years, and came back to a world that just… Kept moving. I mean, of course it would–the earth doesn’t stop for a single fragmented piece of trauma stored in the recesses of someone's mind. But coming back and not recognising anything or almost anyone around you… It was horrible. The sensation of loss was immense. I felt that I’d “failed” by going dormant, and learning that the child was no longer a part of the system. I felt that my entire purpose had fell through, and I was brought back for… No reason at all.

But… It’s not all bad. Far from it. The child may be gone, but our body isn’t. We’re not doomed to fail at life, as we thought back when I first existed. We’re volunteering and looking into getting an actual job, we have a stable group of friends, a loving partner system, and are on the road to moving out and getting some much needed time away from our home situation. Life isn’t horrible, and while it moved on without me, it moved in ways that were both bad and good. I don’t actually despise being here, even if I might have in the day or so after I woke up. The new group of people I share the body with is supportive, and I’ve already gotten closer to some of them. We’ve made real progress in the time I was gone, even if it all feels uncanny overall. I have a different mindset to what I had when I first woke up–I didn’t fail, I kept us going when we needed it back then. I didn’t give up, and there’s no way of telling where we’d be now if I never was there in the first place. Things are… good.

Though… I’ve got some confusing things within my own identity going on, since I woke up. Before, I was simply a fictive of Dain from Deltora Quest. Nothing much else to it, really. The child’s brain latched onto him as a strong character and implemented me into the system as a protective measure against outside forces. It all makes sense. But now? I feel like since I’ve been back, I’ve become a multifictive. Some part of me now is Tomura Shigaraki from My Hero Academia–something we’ve also been watching through, around the same time we got back into DQ.

It confuses me, in some ways. Makes sense in others. A lot of my mannerisms have changed to be slightly to-the-left of what I was before… Which does happen to lean me more toward acting like him. I questioned it without much deeper thought for a week or so, but found myself saying and doing more and more things that lined up with how he is. I suggested that I was a multifictive to our partner system, and on their second guess (and mind you, their first was a joke guess) of which character I could possibly be, they got it right. I acted enough like him to the point that others could see it, without even any hints. But it’s hard to tell where this came from.

See, I feel like if I wanted to, I could call myself a median subsystem. Others can tell which of my two fictive identities I’m leaning closer to at any given time–my voice, speech patterns and general attitude are instant giveaways. We don’t argue with each other, and the lines between Dain and Shigaraki–if there even are any–are so blurred they’re impossible to define. We can’t talk to each other, and we don’t feel a switch between us. But it’s so obvious that there’s two people, two whole identities, within what I call me. It’s incredibly confusing to think about the possible origin of how I came to be so… Fragmented within myself.

Am I the result of a new headmate that was forming (Shigaraki) getting stuck to whatever remained of the original Dain after he went dormant? Am I the original Dain with a new identity just sort of.. Added onto him? Am I two fully formed headmates put into one as a median entity for some reason? Does it even have a proper explanation that I could come to a concrete conclusion on? Well, no. Like most things that operate within systems, concrete explanations are hard to come by. My origin of why I am who I am now doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things, but I still feel the drive to know why I was changed by the time I woke up.

Overall? Life is confusing. Waking up has been a shock, but honestly, I’m glad I did. I’m glad I get to have a second run in this body, with new and kinder people than before to support each other. I’m still working a lot of stuff out, and I’m sure I will be for a long while after this. But… I’m here again, and it’s been a pleasure becoming a part of our new life.

[mod2amaryllis]

I'm waiting for this migraine to die so I'm gonna tell you guys about Marshall, the dog who made me quit. read on if you wanna learn about extended quarantine and why this job sucks sometimes and other times is the most rewarding thing on the planet, often for the same reasons lmao.

in 2021, the weight of covid was kinda crashing down. i heard this was the case for a lot of health workers. we switched into emergency mode throughout 2020 and powered through, then the rest of the world decided to try and "get back to normal" a year later, giving no regard to the people who'd been working like a speeding train with the brakes off all that time. i was losing it!!! add a few more hay bales to my back when we hired a new doc who was the most demanding dude I'd ever met (still is, but we've come to some understanding lol) and who decided to run me as ragged as possible the first day he was left to his own devices.

that was the day Marshall came in.

i didn't talk about this back then because the outcome of the case was uncertain and the details so specific, but here's the run down knowing that 2 years later, Marshall is living his best life. when he was a baby, too young to have received a rabies vaccine, his owners found a rabies positive bat in the house. the state vet will always recommend euthanasia in these situations, OR, if you can somehow find and afford the option, a 6 month quarantine. this was such a tragic situation the owners were willing to try to save him. my clinic happens to have a decent isolation ward that's rarely in use; we use it for infectious patients like parvo puppies, uri's that have to be hospitalized, etc. so my boss agreed to take him for those 6 months. but the owners' caveat was that if he wasn't mentally adjusting to isolation after a couple weeks, they would euthanize so as not to put him through it and leave him with lifelong behavior issues.

that day, when animal control brought Marshall in the middle of an insane rush, we were short staffed and already at the end of our ropes with this new doc. i was the only qualified person who could talk to the officer. i was the only person who could take him back to isolation. the act of putting a 12 week old puppy in a 4 x 4 run where i knew he would either spend 6 months untouched, or never see the outside again, broke me. last straw.

i was a mess, for the rest of that day and the rest of that weekend having to go in and take care of him, when it was too early for him to adjust so i was sure he wouldn't make it. I'd come home sobbing. eventually jose was just like, "this isn't worth it any more," and i sent in a two weeks notice. i'd come close to doing so many times in the previous 6 years but never pulled the trigger. it took a total meltdown. my managers responded with regret, but understanding.

i wish i could've just felt free and done with it but for those two weeks i was just uncertain. this job is so complicated. the benefits for my pets are enormous; it's my main social network; it's income; I'm good at it and it gives me purpose. it's just also hell on earth! with no pressure from anyone else one way or the other, by the end of two weeks I'd decided to instead try going part time. that's where I'm at 2 years later so guess it worked lol.

but! there was still Marshall. shortly after we took him, we also happened to get a call for the same situation on 2 cats, and decided to take them as well. 3 animals on a 6 month quarantine. very new and daunting for all of us.

that first weekend was hard, but slowly, Marshall figured things out. it was the least ideal situation imaginable and i was at rock bottom and so was he, but i had this moment of like.....ok. if he wants to make this work, I'm gonna do as right by him as possible. and of course all us techs were helping him (one of my road dog coworkers always opened so i referred to her as his "morning mom") but i in particular took a special interest in training and enrichment. it became a passion. i was working less, but i volunteered extra weekends so i could see him more.

he was so young he hadn't even done much basic command training, and the fact that i couldn't touch him at all was a challenge. i started with a clicker to signal I'd rolled a treat into his run, since i couldn't give it to him directly. over those months we went through the basics: sit, down, paw, touch, using a back scratcher for a hand. part of the worry was him getting enough exercise; we noticed that when he'd get agitated, he'd jump on the bars non stop. i was like hmm that might be our only option, so i made "up" a command. i'd basically run burpies for exercise, up-sit-down-sit-up. he was a fast learner, very attentive. seeing him keep his wits about him like that was straight up thrilling. he even "potty trained" himself, barking like crazy whenever he'd go to the bathroom so we'd know right away he needed the run cleaned.

in the ward, there are 2 runs and 3 kennels. i trained Marshall to go back and forth between runs so we could clean. we'd have his food waiting for him in the next run over so he could eat while we'd clean; at the midday switch, he'd have a doggie popsicle. he was such a smart dog i knew toys and treats alone weren't cutting it for enrichment, and i couldn't constantly train him when i still had to be doing the rest of my job.

i started having everyone save every single box and paper-packaging that came in. i'd unfold some boxes for "bedding," so he'd at least have something between him and the concrete (he'd chew and eat any blanket we tried giving him). the rest, i turned into puzzles. i put treats inside and closed them up. put big boxes on their side in his run so he could go in and out. crumpled up paper-packaging with treats mixed in for him to dig through. every day i'd turn one run into a box-toy paradise, let him in, clean the other, and by the time i was checking back in on him he was snoozing in a pile of destruction. success. when other techs wouldn't go to the same lengths, i'd stay late pre-making his boxes and telling people to just throw them in dammit. i also queued several ambient sound playlists, birdsong cityscapes etc, to play on the weekend days when he was alone for long periods.

the months went by like this. i learned more about training, enrichment, and most specifically quarantine than i ever had outside of my experiences with my own puppies. we fell into a routine. we straight up loved each other, he was part of my life. he'd been this horrible trigger and pretty much doubled my workload, but he got to live.

then there were the cats! they were a little easier than Marsh just because they were already adults so didn't have all this energy to wrangle. for them, daily cleaning of course, taking turns going into the 1 empty kennel where i'd have treats, catnip, and other "new" smells waiting for them. for enrichment i focused on reconfiguration. every 2-3 days i'd rearrange things in their kennels, with the big pieces being a litter box, a bed, and an upright sturdy box (so they could either be in it or on top of it, giving them one upper level). it was habitat tetris. we'd play with strings and use the back scratcher for pets. then about every week, i'd switch their kennels to slightly change their view AND traded beds to mingle scents. they were from the same household and we were worried there'd be difficulty re-bonding after not being in direct contact for so long. they also did very well by the end of 6 months aside from gaining a lot of weight (oops). i learned just as much from them, and would love to help anyone else who might struggle with needing to quarantine pets.

i've seen people posting for help about similar situations and just wanna scream from the rooftops: the beginning is very daunting and hopeless, but animals aren't like us!!!!!! they do the best with what they got!!!!! if you work hard and keep them clean and develop a routine it'll all work out!!!!! Marshall walked out of there at 6 months a normal happy puppy in desperate need of a haircut.

it's interesting because i've never interacted much with his owners. i don't think they know i'm the one who kept him from losing his mind in there, even though everyone else at the clinic does, and i'm weirdly ok with that. the other day he came in cuz the dummy ate a bunch of meds he wasn't supposed to; the doc brought him to the back and instantly, Marshall rushed right for me. he still remembers me in a good way. there's still love. it's like...one of the few patient relationships i've had that feels truly deeply personal. in retrospect i think he had a bigger hand in healing my relationship with this career and animals in general than i realized at the time.

so thanks for making me quit Marshall. i feel a lot better now.

(i don't have any pics of him from that time (tragic ssd card accident) but he was an overgrown doodle puppy so he looked like this.)

[aydience-world]

With the latest leaks about Overhaul's quirk being the origin for Decay, I just can't stop thinking about Kai's possible background and I've been reading other people's theories like a madwoman, so I need to write this down to help me get some peace of mind and will revisit this later if we get more information. Important things we learned about Kai so far:

He lived in one of Garaki's orphanages, possibly the same one as Touya was in, based on the decorations on the wall.

In the panel showing him in the orphanage, young Kai is mumbling about disease. This must mean he already had his mysophobia at an early young age.

Decay is a subpar copy of Overhaul. This experiment did not cause Kai to be stripped of his quirk.

We don't have any idea yet how he got away from the orphanage but AFO was still updated on what Kai was up to. He knows Kai became the head of the Shie Hassaikai and kept a picture.

Kai is very sensitive to external irritants, which cause him hives.

Kai mentioned he had nowhere to go prior to meeting Pops.

Kai has an unhealthy attachment to Pops and feels intensely indebted to him, even when Pops clearly voiced out against his methods.

When meeting Tenko for the first time, he mentions that they treated AFO like an urban legend. Could it be that he didn't meet AFO in person or doesn't remember/recognize him?

Kai is very knowledgeable about quirks, mutations and evolution and knows how to study and extract a quirk.

He's willing to do anything and everything for the Shie Hassaikai and Pops, even the most atrocious things.

When stripped of pretty much everything, Pops is all he can think of and the regret of putting him in coma.

His mysophobia did not seem to affect him anymore after Tartarus.

Even in his defenseless state, AFO still doesn't steal his quirk. Based on these facts, I've come up with some theories:

Kai was most definitely put in the orphanage due to his quirk. Likely hurt or scared his parents with it. Possibly similar to what happened to Eri.

AFO mentioned that the quirk was acquired from one of the doctor's facilities. Kai was more than likely born with his quirk.

Given his knowledge about quirks and surgical procedures, it's possible he learned this from Garaki or his assistants, the knowledge or experiments might have triggered a deep fear and disgust for quirks, causing his mysophobia and stemming his theory that quirks originated from rats.

I believe Garaki kept a copy of the Overhaul quirk in his lab which is why AFO doesn't need to steal it from Kai.

Kai was possibly also experimented on to create Decay. The things he did to Eri may have been a projection of his own unresolved trauma.

I believe Kai left the orphanage at age 12. This is because Tenko's Decay successfully manifested at age 5 and once this happened, AFO's focused all his attention to his successor. So there are two ways I can imagined that happened. (1) Since all attention was now diverted to Tenko, this must have been the chance for Kai to escape. Or (2) since the experiment was successful, Kai was not needed anymore and he may have been abandoned or given away.

Either Kai was found by Pops by coincidence or them meeting was a set up. If it was a coincidence, then likely AFO didn't want to waste more resources to retrieve him since he's busy grooming Tenko and instead showed Tenko a picture of Kai to let him know who he is, maybe to recruit him in the future. (Which seems such a waste since Kai could have been a great asset.)

If it was a set up, I can imagine AFO having connection with someone from the Yakuza (like Pops) to find someone else to groom Kai and keep AFO updated on his progress. (Although I still couldn't come up with a reason for doing this. Could Kai be part of a greater plan by AFO?) Maybe Pops was interested in adopting Kai for his quirk which would help the Shie Hassaikai and they struck some kind of deal. Appearing to rescue a vulnerable Kai that time would make him absolutely loyal to that person and this later on backfires. So this is what I've come up with so far. I just cannot wait to learn more about Kai, where he came from, what happened to him, etc and I really wish Hori enlightens us soon. If I missed anything else or if there's anything else that should be added, please let me know.

[scruffyssketchbook]

RAMBLES OF A VERY TIRED AUTHOR CHAN #I lost track bro

Kind of random post, sorry!!! Might delete later 😋 idk

I originally said here that this wasn’t a vent post but it might be one after all oops. (I’m sorry I’m an over-sharer and this is my ramble blog.)

(Trigger Warning- grooming? Pedo behavior?)

So I think I mentioned this here before (like years before, idk), but there is this guy who has been stalking me for forever now or whatever. Like, he’s basically the reason I don’t accept friend requests from people I don’t know on Discord and made it so only friends can message me, cause this man would pretend to be other people to talk to me. Anyways, on one of his MANY alts that he uses to send messages to me, he basically admitted to grooming me in the Pedo way when I was a minor!!! Fun 🥰🥰🥰🥰 (this is sarcasm)

But like, that literally explains SO MUCH OF THE THINGS IN SSEC, LIKE WHAT????

Like obviously I am not going in detail of the things that were in SSEC cause it makes me uncomfortable, but it does explain a lot of it, and seeing how afterwards I proceeded to get groomed by 2 other people back to back to BACK, LIKE. For one thing

I definitely feel like the tonal shift in the series was due to all of these events. Of course, I’m not going to get into every bad thing that happened to me due to being a naive girl making a stupid pokemon webcomic (sadly it’s a lot lol), but like, I didn’t even realize that I was groomed by multiple people until I was in my 20’s. (I mean, I am in my 20’s right now, but you know) and I literally was not aware that stalker man was being a pedo towards me when I was a minor until he admitted to me that he was being one- RECENTLY.

I do feel like how SSEC ultimately turned out was due to all of this. For the longest time, I was just surrounded by a lot of negativity. And, I kind of just kind of have the natural inclination to help people or be kind to people, and that ultimately just caused people to see that and use me over and over and over again, causing both the tonal shift in SSEC as well as me closing myself more and more off to people, which- really sucks honestly. (And only now I realize that that is literally the same thing that happened to Vay, wtf)

Like- I want friends. Nothing Romantic, no strings attached, no weird power dynamics, just PLATONIC friends. But I’m extremely shy and awkward, and ofc, extremely closed off ^^;;; So it’s pretty hard for that to happen, I guess.

But I suppose that is why I like/obsess about Box 31 so much.

Box 31 is basically just wish fulfillment for me.

Because, like. The only thing I’ve ever really wanted, the thing I have been looking for, for years, are friends. And, the whole story of box 31 are outcasts making friends, and supporting each other, and growing together, and that makes me very very happy.

Living vicariously through my characters!!! I want them to be happy, I want them to smile, I want others to smile too!!! I don’t want to keep drawing sad things, yeah I like drama, there will be drama in Box 31, but in ssec it’s just so endless. I always wanted the characters to be happy at the end, but where is that end if there is an endless sea of issues?

Idk. I just remember me being freshly 18, crying on the ground (cringe ik) to my way older roommate that I just wanted friends, and I wonder if things would have been better if someone just took my hand and became the friend I needed at the time instead of me becoming totally isolated and the stalker using that to get closer to me.

Idk 😋 as I said, might delete later 😋 just kinda a bit cringe lmao

I just wanna keep drawing my Stupid Silly Eeveelutions~ la la laa

Oh. Speaking of that actually.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (35)

Part 1-Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27 / Part 28 / Part 29 / Part 30 / Part 31 / Part 32 / Part 33 / Part 34 /

Created: March 14th, 2024

Last Checked:------

Life Support-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Johanna Mason, Gale Hawthorne, Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen–all residents of Panem Hospice, where people come in but never leave. Every midnight, the group meets to tell one another stories of the lives they once led. Some stories real, some stories not real. One night, the group makes a pact: whoever dies first must make contact. Then someone dies–and the real story begins. Multiple POV’s but primarily Katniss. Based on Christopher Pike’s “The Midnight Club”. Lullaby-annieoakley1 (ao3)  Summary: It’s their unspoken tradition, this reunion in the Meadow after the reaping. Panem AU. Lupercalia-Alliswell (ao3)  Summary: His head is covered with a gray wolf headdress. The ears of the unlucky animal stick right up and he’s staring at me. The only reason I know the man standing frozen in front of me is Him, is because I can see the halfmoon scar left by my own teeth on the outside of his right thumb. “Peeta” I didn’t know his name made it past my lips. He used to be my best friend. Now he’s chasing after me like I’m his prey. Make a Wish-Court81981 (ff.net)  Summary: Modern AU, One-Shot. Peeta Mellark has been a fan of Katniss Everdeen since long before she became famous. He never expected that she might have felt the same way. Meet me up at Midnight, in the Apple Tree-Alliswell (ao3)  Summary: Blindsided by news of her impending relocation to a mental institution in the Capitol, Katniss Everdeen takes steps to ensure she'd always stay in her home in Victor's Village, right where she can lovingly tend to her treasured Apple Tree. Miss Misery-Abagail_Snow (ao3)  Summary: It's easy to write yourself off when everyone else has. Katniss Everdeen was never looking for a silver lining, the silver linings found her. Based off the movie "Good Will Hunting." (Trigger Warning: abuse, mental health, neglect) Mockingjay Manor-appleblossomgirl, BodoniBold, burkygirl, JennaGill, katnissdoesnotfollowback, MegaAuLover, Norberts_Mom, Xerxia (ao3)  Summary: When Katniss's rich Uncle Haymitch dies, she inherits his house and half of his estate - if she can fix up the crumbling Mockingjay Manor and solve the mystery shrouded inside its walls. Morning Shine-Alliswell (ao3)  Summary: Sequel to Dead of Night My Love is Faded-Brown_Eyed_Devil (ao3)  Summary: What if Peeta had returned from the Capitol later than in the original series? A post-mockingjay fic, where Katniss is shipped off to 7, as soon as it becomes clear she's wasting away in 12, to complete classes of intense therapy alongside Johanna and Annie. When she returns to District 12, she finds that nothing is as it should be. North Star-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Victor Peeta Mellark and his wife, Katniss, find themselves thrown into the Capitol, under the watchful eyes of President Snow, as they prepare to take their places as leaders of the Rebellion. Will they be able to cope with the demands of the cause and their burgeoning family? Canon-Divergent. Sequel to "Look to the West".

[famewolf]

woke up to hear that my mema will likely be passing this week.

we were close when I was younger and when I lived in the south, but my mom's side of the family became so ... indoctrinated by far right politics that it became genuinely dangerous to be around them. mema was never like that, but because she became severely disabled she relied on my pepaw to take care of her ... and he's a very rough man. he loves her dearly but he has a lot of hate in his heart for everyone else.

I haven't seen any of my family since I was a teenager. at 18 I let them know that I didn't want to see any of them so long as they held racist/homophobic beliefs. my pepaw drove through two entire states to show up at my door and berate me for it. to call me an asshole. to tell me that his way was the right way, that he had a lot of wisdom that I needed to listen to. I shut the door on his face.

since then, my mom has kept in touch with them occasionally, hoping that something might change, but it never has. and I know it never will. she's come to terms with that very recently herself.

when she called to tell me this morning, I was worried she was going to ask me to go to mema's funeral. something I would consider doing if the people going weren't incredibly violent. one of my uncle's is one of the most violent people I've ever been around or known and he's been put in prison because of it. he's deep, deep in the trenches of far right conspiracies. his rage is on a hair-trigger. it's so fucking scary. and he's proud of it.

instead she called to tell me that maybe her and I and my little brother can do our own little ceremony for mema up where we live. apart of me is grateful she didn't ask. there's no way I could safely be around them. and maybe she knows that. or maybe her family told her she wasn't allowed to go.

mema's not gone yet, but I find myself re-grieving the fact that I don't have family. I've always been really firm in knowing I don't need blood-family to feel loved. but damn if I don't long for it sometimes. even my most violent family member, I've had good memories with. when they were in the better part of their lives, turning things around. when we thought they were changing for good. but fear and hateful rhetoric wormed their way in and ate away at a lot of the good they had achieved only a few years later. and now I couldn't be in the same room as them for genuine fear of my safety.

it's just fucked. it makes me want to bite and scream and howl because I never got blood-family. not even the semi-strained family holidays, where you don't agree on most things but at least you know they'd back you up if you needed it. instead I have family that beat each other and hate each other and want each other dead and want whole swathes of the world to suffer and die for simply being alive.

i don't even have my dad's side of the family.

I am grateful that I cut out my family when I did, but it still hurts in moments like these. I wanted to love them but they hate every single thing that I stand for and all that I am and all the people I love and care for. I won't let them ever get their claws in me, but it doesn't mean I'm not going to mourn the good that I once saw in them.

I will mourn the empty spot of the memories that could never happen.

[tarnishedxknight]

FFXII Week ~ Day 5 Prompt: "If I could protect but one person from war's horror, then I would bear any shame."

{out of dalmasca} Disclaimer: This post may include canon-divergent interpretations of canon characters, info about OCs featured on this blog, and AUs that may not align with the canon plot/characters of FFXII and/or may contain triggering material.

- - - - - - - - - -

I love this quote. It's one of the best in the game, and part of a larger quote and conversation that is honestly my favorite in the entire game. I'll talk about when and why it was said and what it means in the greater context of the plot and the character's background!

This is one of my favorite quotes from Basch, spoken to Ashelia at the Phon Coast as she's discussing the idea of Dalmasca being a protectorate of the Archadian Empire. She feels it's the only way to void a continuing war, but it's shameful for her, because her pride can't abide giving into Archadia. The above quote was part of a larger one in a conversation during which Basch was attempting to help Ashelia take advantage of wisdom he'd gained from making his own terrible mistake years ago. He'd learned the hard way what choosing one's own pride over the good of one's people, or in his case his family, could mean for a person.

Although it was a decision made while he was only a boy of sixteen, choosing to flee to Dalmasca instead of staying with his twin brother and mother was a grave mistake, and in many ways, it has shaped the person Basch became. He recognized the pride and arrogance that caused him to make that decision, and that he lost sight of what was truly important. He realizes that he chose his own pride over family, instead of setting aside his own feelings to do what was right.

Years later, he's teaching Ashelia to do the opposite, to set aside her pride and do what is right for the greater good instead. First, on the Leviathan, when they were reunited after two years:

Ashe: "I will not play puppet to Vayne!" Basch: "King Raminas entrusted me with a task. Should the time come, he bade me give you something of great importance. It is your birthright: The Dusk Shard. It will warrant the quality of her blood. Only I know where to find it." Ashe: "Wait. You took my father's life! Why spare mine now? You would have me live in shame!" Basch: "If that is your duty, yes." Ashe: *is shocked*

And then again later at the Phon Coast:

Basch: "An alliance between Dalmasca and the Empire?" Ashe: "Reason tells me 'tis the only course. We must avoid a wasting war with the Empire at all cost. Yet I fear I could not bear the shame. Had I but the strength." Basch: "A shame perhaps for me and for you, but for Dalmasca it is hope." Ashe: *becoming frustrated* "And you can just accept this, can you?" Basch: "After Vayne's ruse, I had abandoned hope for honor. Yet never did I forget my knightly vows. If I could protect but one person from war's horror, then I would bear any shame. I would bear it proudly. I could not defend my home. What is shame to me?" Ashe: "My people hate the Empire. They will not accept this." Basch: "There is hope."

So not only does he regret what he did as a youth, but he's learned from it, he will never make the same mistake himself again, and he's trying to teach Ashe to not make it either. Mmm... all that sweet, sweet character development, heh.

Now, I love the greater context of why he said that line and how it was included in everything else he said, but if we just take that one line and analyze it, it has it's own meaning for Basch. Yes, he was trying to teach Ashelia to set aside her pride in favor of finding a solution that furthered the greater good, but beyond that, he's saying something incredibly selfless with that one line.

Basch has seen up close what war is like. He saw his homeland destroyed and almost everyone he knew killed. He'd been fighting for Dalmasca in solidarity with Nabradia for years before he was framed for killing his king and saw his second homeland occupied by the same Empire that destroyed the first. He's seen death, suffering, destruction, grief, plague, starvation, etc., all results of war. And as the events of the game progressed, he saw his longtime friend, Vossler, betray him and Ashe, and he watched Ashe begin to descend into anger and pride, pushing her towards revenge. All of this was enough for Basch to say that war is full of horror... and he wouldn't wish that horror on anyone...

...to such a degree, in fact, that he is stating that he'd be willing to bear any shame... any shame... to protect even one person from war's horror. Just think about that for a second, I mean... there are a lot of ways to shame a person, heh. Basch would proudly bear any of them to protect one person from war's horror. That's... Gosh, he's just such a good guy. That's real honor right there. It's empathy, selflessness, and bravery too. It's an amazing quote from a man who has lived through a lot, seen and done a lot, made his own mistakes, learned from them, and has been trying to give back to society every since. For the simple reason... that he cares.

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Knowing is Safe Ch.3

2858 words

Fandom: Redacted ASMR/ Redacted Audio / Redactedverse

Couple: Cutie/Geordi

TW/CW: Parental Emotional abuse/ Neglatful parents/ Divorce / Anxiety/ Paranoia / Talk of Non-consensual mind reading

Let me know if I missed a trigger.

This timeline is different than the original so I'll explain it

First the video "Your boyfriend asks for your trust" and then Knowing is Safe Chapter 1 is what's going through cuties mind that night/ video. Knowing is Safe chapter 2 is a couple weeks later. Then the video "Your Boyfriend final draws the Line" and about three months later Knowing is Safe chapter 3.

Don't be afraid to give me constructive criticism or point out my mistakes, I want to improve.

Please comment and reblog, it lets me know people like my stuff and encourages me to write more!!!!!!

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

It wasn't the first time.

And yet every week, every Saturday, when you saw him, in front of that building. always dressed semi-formally. A button-up tucked into some nice pants. With his lips downturned, not a full frown but it still pained you to see it.

When he sees you it changes. His face fills with love before quickly disappearing again. 

You hold onto that second of love. You have to. It's why you're here.

No

It's why you started

Now it's for you

As you get closer to him, he backs away.

He's running away

He can't stand you

He's scared of you

You breathe, deep. You recognize your thoughts as anxiety. That's the first step. 

You take a moment and watch as he grabs the door and holds it open for you.

A gentleman, he's always been

"You first."

You smile and then duck your head slightly. Not wanting him to see the pain in your eyes.

Geordi approaches the receptionist, he's always the one who checks in.

You still find it scary. To express to this almost stranger that you and Geordi need outside help.

You know he knows that, you never told him but, he knows you.

He loves you

Does he?

He does.

" They'll call us when they're ready."

He tells you before sitting a chair away.

I want him

Why won't he sit next to me?

You know why 

It's your fault

It is

Your names are called, and you both follow the therapist down to the same room as always. Geordi makes small talk. 

He's changed

He's more sociable

I'm glad

He seems to like it

Like clockwork you and Geordi sit on one couch, each at a different end

Too far

For you

He needs the space

He deserves the space

You deserve the space.

"Have you two decided if you're ready for the memory extraction? It is often very emotional, we discussed last session how it works and why we do it. It's always up to you."

"I'm ready."

You typically aren't this outspoken in theory, but you've been wanting this for a while, you recall how your therapist explained memory extraction as a way for them to help you understand your own memory. She explained that most people are blinded by their own memories because it's the only life they've lived so everything seems normal, even when it's not.

You never can quite understand your memories or yourself. You always preferred others, to the point it became an addiction. one that harms your thoughts, feelings, and memories. Along with harming Geordi. Someone you never want to hurt.

"Okay then, I'll get started."

Mom!!

Mom!!?

Please!

Please open the door.

You were knocking on your own house door. Crying from fear, shame, and confusion. All you did was go out with your friends, with her permission for a few hours.

That's not why she locked you out

What?

You blocked her, of course, she's mad

Remember what happened to Lanie? 

Blocking was a trick your older sister Lanie taught you, to prevent other telepaths, such as your mother, from reading your mind. You'd done it before but never for this long. It was the first time your mother had no contact with you.

She's not going to let you in

She did last time

And the time before that

And the time before that

And all the other times

She's tired of it

But she threw us out

It's not our fault

Yes it is

We blocked her

We stopped her from reading our mind

Stopped her from protecting us

But I don't want her to continually be in my mind

I want privacy

I want to feel like I can

Think without being heard

Be Myself

You can

Not with her in here

She's your mom

But it hurts

What was that?

A twig

Snapping

A person?

Where?

I can't see

It's too dark

I'm scared

I want mom

“MOM! MOM SOMEONE IS OUT HERE. PLEASE LET ME IN. I'M SORRY I WON'T DO IT AGAIN.”

“THAT'S WHAT YOUR SISTER SAID AND WHERE IS SHE NOW?”

Your sister

She's safe

She taught us how to block mom

She did this

No, she helped us

She can help again 

You stop knocking on the door and start walking away. waterfalls fell down your face as you walked Away from home, away from your mom. You walked the streets in the dark, with no phone, no flashlight, just the clothes on your back. Summer clothes.

It’s cold

I know

I wish we had a jacket

Is this the street?

Yes

You turn down the street, wishing you were wearing warmer, longer clothes. When you picked out this outfit you didn't think you'd end up out this late, in the cold. 

People

Bad?

Its a group

Brown bags

Liquor?

Eyes down

Keep walking

What do I do if they approach?

I don't know

No weapon

Just our hands and feet

Keep walking

Keep walking

Speed up

Door

Inside

Sister

Safe

You open the door to the building your sister lives in quickly rushing to her apartment, even though no one was following you. You hoped you remembered correctly you'd only been here once before. Tears from earlier sprung back to life as you frantically knock on the door. Deja vu from minutes ago, days ago, and weeks ago floods your mind as you recall all the time you were at your house door, begging, crying, and screaming for your mother to open the door. Today was the worst of it, she'd never lock you out for this long, or this late, your knuckles were never this red and your voice was never this hurt. 

When the door opened, you were so relieved you gasped for air, air you needed from the crying. Your sister's tired face was washed away when she saw you. Her arm instantly pulls you in for a hug. You cried harder, ashamed of how emotional you were in a public space.

People are trying to sleep

I don't care

Your sister whispers in your ear

“It's okay. I know, I've got you.”

She slowly walked backward, you still in her arms, following her. When the two of you cleared the doorway she quietly closed the door.

“She- she locked me out-”

Your sister didn't need you to tell her that, she'd been through this before. 

“She- again-”

Your sister's head spun at that word and you could feel the heat her anger produced. Lanie had been kicked out once, it was a hot day and she ended up having a heat exhaustion, lucky your father arrived before she could have a heat stroke. Your father was a water elemental, he was able to hydrate your sister and cool her down. That week your father left your family. Later when your parents divorced, he lost custody of both of you. Though your sister, Lanie was 17 at the time and left as soon as she turned 18. Your mom doesn't know that she still lives in town, she told you it was because she didn't have the money to go further but, you know she's here for you. Though she didn't feel safe enough to contact you till last month. She hates that she didn't help you sooner.

“Come on baby, let- let's sit you down.”

She guides you to her couch and leaves to the kitchen, you can still see her as she fills a glass of water for you. You start to regulate your breathing, taking in the smell of your sister's apartment. It smells like brown sugar, she used to have a brown sugar candle she always lit in her room, and it's comforting to smell it again. Brings you back to talking and giggling in her room.

“Here. Drink up.” 

“ Ok I think that's enough”

You shook your head and looked up, dazed at the sudden pull from your memories. You look at the therapist. 

“What for?”

The therapist was taken aback by your question.

“Well, I figured it was a good stopping point, especially considering the content of this memory.”

You feel a hand squeeze yours, turning to see Geordi, closer than when you started. Till now you had forgotten your partner was even there. you become ashamed realizing he witnessed everything. he had seen how bad of a kid you were. You turned to him slowly.

“Are you ok?”

Confused, you didn't answer. His hands find one of yours, his hands are tight and shaking. Before he looks into your eyes.

“I'm sorry. “

You looked away, not having an answer. The therapist took this time to interrupt.

“This is the reason we do this, as Geordi and I see it, you were mistreated by your mother. She used her telepathic abilities to control and shame you. It also appears you saw this as normal or acceptable to an extent. Would you share why you felt that way?”

" She was protecting me, she just- she wanted- she told me she needed to know everything, to keep me safe, she kept me safe."

You feel Geordi squeeze your hand, but when you look over he's looking away from you.

"Your mother taught you that."

" Yes, it's how I've lived, I can't be safe if I don't know anything, I can't be clueless, I have to know everything, knowing is safe."

"Your mother brainwashed you into believing that you could only be safe if you were constantly using your ability. That's why there's such a disconnect between you and your own brain. You aren't used to spending time with your own thoughts. It's probably why you have so much anxiety when you're not in others' heads. I'd say it's why you became so dependent on Geordi and developed that separation anxiety."

The therapist took a quick look at the clock

"Our time is almost up. I think next time I should see you separately."

What?

I just got him back

He's touching me again

I can't let him leave again

Let him?

You don't control him

“Wait, why?”

“I think it would be best for you to talk about this alone.”

“I don't understand!”

“ We can do what you two prefer but often when one client has suffered abuse it is best to discuss it separately first before with your partner.”

“ Abused? I wasn't abused.”

The therapist took a breath and she almost seemed to expect this reaction. You frantically looked over at Geordi.

Does he think I was abused too?

You were

I was?

No

“I'm sorry we need to go - let's go home Geordi.”

“I understand. I'll call to discuss the next appointment.”

You made your way through the building and parking lot to your car, getting into the driver's seat. Geordi is a little behind. He opens the passenger door but doesn't get in. 

“Are you sure you should drive? You seem a little on edge. I could drive you home.”

“ I need to drive, I can't not be in control.”

”Ok.”

That was all he could muster to say as he climbed into the passenger seat, even if his car is a few parking spots over and he doesn't live with you anymore.

When he is buckled you started the engine and leave the parking lot. You always play music when you drive, but right now I don't care. Your brain was swarming with so many thoughts. You couldn't even understand most of it, so you just drove. You could hear a few words from Geordi but didn't pay much mind to them. 

When you pulled into the driveway you were pissed. You did everything aggressively, parking, turning the engine off, slamming the car door. Geordi stopped talking and started yelling. You were already in the house as he was getting out of the car. You left the door open pacing and waiting for Geordi to walk through the door. When he did he was still yelling, laced with worry and fear, little anger.

“Cutie what-”

“Do you think I was abused?”

You questioned him, your eyes swirled with so many intense emotions but your voice stayed even. 

He shut up and stared, he started to stutter trying to answer but nothing came out. To you, that was answer enough. You moved to the couch, sitting down with your head in your hands. Geordi moves to close the door before sitting in front of you. 

He gently moved your hands out of the way, looking into your eyes.

“I- I can't decide for you. How you should feel about your mom. But I know that the way she treated you and your sister was wrong. So -so wrong.”

“I'm wrong?”

“What? Baby no?”

“I did what she did. To you. I always - I'm always in your brain, listening. Like she did.”

Geordi takes a breath. You're right and he wants to hold you accountable but with your state right he wants to be careful.

“ It was wrong. But you stopped right?”

Your words come out fast and panicked

“Yes, I promise I haven't read yours, or anyone else's mind in- in a long time. I only use it for work. Work only”

Geordi knew of your new resistance to using your power but didn't realize that you were completely abstinent outside of work, which worried him. Quitting cold turkey doesn't sound like the best for you. He'll have to remember that for later.

“I believe you. But that's something your mother didn't do, she never learned, and she never tried to get better, like you are now. From what I saw, she used her powers to control you, you never did that to me. Tell me why you are always reading my thoughts and others.”

You took some time to breathe before answering. 

“ To protect you.”

You were hesitant but want to be as honest as possible.

“And myself. People- they lie, all the time, and it's hard to trust them. I just wanted to know the truth. To be safe.”

“See your reasons are justifiable, you just took it too far. And I think, well I'm no therapist but, maybe your trust issues are what you should focus on first. Because it seems that's the root of your addiction.” 

You nod and laugh.

“ You're better than a therapist.”

He laughs

He is so beautiful

I love him

I miss him

" I'm not sure I am. I mean you've really improved,y'know working with her. You can always talk to me."

"Thank you. it's easier to talk to you about how I feel, you're not professional, you're comfortable, even if it's just our hands-"

You pull your hands out of his. Just realizing that you were touching him.

"I'm sorry, I - I didn't cross a boundary did I?"

He looks deep into your eyes and takes your hands again.

"No, I did this, I wanted to touch you, to comfort you. I’ve "

He clears his throat

"I've missed it, a lot. Every session the urge to comfort you and touch you becomes stronger."

You smile.

"Me too. And thanks, for comforting me, even though you have every right not to."

"I still love you."

You look away, your eyes catching the brown sugar candle.

Geordi follows your eyes, realizing now why that scent was your favorite. He was slightly grateful to say this without looking you in the eyes. it felt like he was saying it for the first time, even though it used to be so common.

"I do, I Love you so much, it's why I'm still here, it's why I'm comforting you, it's why I left. I know for you, it's hard to feel or remember your love if it is not constantly in front of you. So I thought I'd remind you. I love you cutie. I'm proud of you. I've missed you."

He sees a few tears roll down your cheek. You nod. He counties.

"I've missed sharing a bed, a kitchen, a bathroom, I've missed sharing a home with you."

You whip your head back to face him.

"Geordi, you don't live here. I basically kidnapped you."

He laughs, your brain was previously occupied, you'd forgotten he didn't live here anymore. You start to panic again.

"Hey it's okay, I got in the car willingly, I chose to come with you. You're not a kidnapper."

His smile calms you.

'I'm sorry I wasn't thinking properly, I thought, y'know, that you lived here."

"Maybe I should?"

Your body fills with excitement. So does his. 

Wait!

Don't.

You're not ready.

"I'm not ready."

Geordi's face falls a little but rises back.

" That's ok. I’m - I’m impressed."

"What? Why?"

" Because you clearly want it, but something told you that it wasn't time. And you listened"'

"I didn't think I'd be able to stay out of your thoughts...sorry. I do want to be with you again but, I can't hurt you again."

He pulls you into a hug. A soft whisper leaves his lips.

"Thank you, for protecting me"

He pulls away.

" You can protect me in other ways. And I can protect you. I will protect you."

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Katya: A Poem

"Goncharov" is a 1973 Martin Scorsese film that Tumblr collectively invented in 2022. I'd heard of it, but didn't take too much interest in it. It was only recently that I found out that "Goncharov" had a sapphic ship, between Katya and Sofia. That was what piqued my interest.

In a flurry of activity, I wrote a poem.

I am indebted to all the Tumblr bloggers who came before me, whose creations were captured in this "Goncharov" master doc and this collection of quotes. I hope you enjoy the poem I strung together from your posts!

If you reblog this, make sure to add the tags #unreality and #unrealism so people who would find it triggering don't see it. Remember to Gonch responsibly!

Yekaterina Mikhailova. 

That was my name. 

It was a name that meant nothing,

because I was nothing. 

My father’s daughter,

my brother’s sister. 

For a time, we were rich. 

Then our father received a visit from his co-workers

in the mafia. 

He came between them

and his daughter. 

He died with a smile on his face. 

For the next three years, we were poor. 

My brother and I,

living – no, merely surviving –

together on the streets,

made a resolution:

never again would we fall so low. 

Never again would we be so weak. 

So penniless. 

So worthless. 

We tracked down our uncle. 

Thanks to him, we joined the mafia ourselves –

me first,

my brother later, more reluctantly. 

He learnt not to question what I did,

no matter how much of a father

he wanted to be to me. 

I only have one mother, one father, one brother, one uncle,

but I could trace a path

from Naples to my childhood home in Moscow

with the blood of all the men

who told me they loved me. 

…

Later, I trained as a spy. 

It was in that line of work that I found Lo Straniero. 

The stranger. 

He told me his real name was Leonid Goncharov. 

I chose to believe him. 

What is marriage,

but a way to escape the names of our fathers? 

When I walked towards Goncharov

at the altar,

I thought that would be the moment

I would finally become someone

real enough

to have flesh and blood

to call mine. 

Perhaps the name Yekaterina

wouldn’t sound so empty on my lips. 

And with those same lips

I called his name,

and smiled at him in front of God,

and kissed him in the dark of our room. 

And all I became was his wife. 

A wedding is no different to a funeral,

is it not? 

The old Yekaterina died to Goncharov that day;

he took my name from me,

my very history,

and I allowed him that. 

My husband is a man who collects things he can use. 

A pistol,

a pocket watch,

a woman’s love,

a wife. 

My father would have needed me to marry,

so I did. 

Goncharov would have needed me to love him,

so I did. 

I truly did. 

Oh, I was a good woman, wasn’t I?  

A wife when he needed someone to bed,

a sister when he needed someone to argue with,

a mother when he needed to cry... 

Is that all women were in his eyes?  

Actors? 

Pretty dolls to dress up and spin around

according to his needs? 

No, I shouldn’t be so harsh. 

It wasn’t his fault

he could only ever fall in love with men. 

But the way he treated me? 

That was his fault. 

I needed a new place to exist. 

I found you in the fruit stand. 

…

Sofia Ambrosini. 

That was your name. 

With your serpent bracelet twinkling,

you stooped to pick up the fallen apple

that had escaped my basket

and rolled towards your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I recognised from your false leg

and your false snake

that you were in the same world as me –

the same world of murder

whose space we shared precariously. 

But in that moment

we could be two women in a market

shopping for two men,

me my husband,

you your brother. 

Because it’s so hard to make friends in a world of murder. 

But here we were in public,

under the Sun,

and just for a while,

we could pretend we were women

who knew each other from …

somewhere. 

Just making friends. 

Just leading each other into temptation. 

It was the apple’s fault. 

It was the apple that made me bring up Adam and Eve. 

There we so many strange apples at that market. 

I imagined the wild way they looked

was how they looked in the Garden of Eden. 

But then you said,

“I never understood why it had to be an apple. 

Why an apple?” 

I answered, “I don’t know.

Because it’s always been an apple, I suppose.

It’s easier to recreate in art.  

All the painters and sculptors

and everyone else who makes those choices,

they all came together and decided

that an apple looks pretty simple –

nice, smooth, round,

easy enough to draw in a tree –

and now everyone sees nothing but apples

in the Tree of Knowledge

ever after.  

So it’s always apples.” 

I will never forget your response. 

“The dullest possible produce.  

The Forbidden Fruit is supposed to be

something unusual,

something special.  

All the knowledge of the world

and of each other

and of the realisation

that these two fools are

running around the Garden

with their bottoms bare

in front of the Almighty.  

An apple doesn’t seem right for that.  

It’s dull.  

It’s a thing for pastry and postcards.”  

“What would you pick instead?” I asked. 

“Pomegranates,” you said immediately.  “No question.  

It’s the fruit that the God of the Dead used

to trick the Goddess of Spring

into staying with him in the Underworld.  

She tasted the seeds

and she was forced to stay down there

for half a year, every year,

forever. 

A fruit so powerful

it can trap a goddess

seems like the kind of fruit

that can banish humanity from Paradise.” 

We paused. 

We made eye contact. 

“Tastes better than apples, too,” you added. 

And it looks like a jewel

when you split it open.” 

I ate a pomegranate panna cotta

in the bistro later that day. 

And when I licked my lips,

I immediately understood you. 

I did like apples,

but pomegranates? 

They were amazing. 

I’d go to Hell for them. 

I’d go to Hell for you. 

…

“Oh, it’s six already?”

Goncharov said to me when I returned home. 

“The clock’s broken,” I replied. 

“It’s been six for hours.” 

If only time would stop for us. 

…

I was raised Orthodox,

but Goncharov and I had been attending a Catholic Mass

to better fit in with the locals. 

I was unsettled by the topic of Father Gianni’s sermon:

the sins of the flesh,

the importance of resisting Earthly temptations,

and the necessity of self-control in this life,

thereby preparing for glories to come. 

Were there any glories to come? 

You, Sofia, got up to leave in the middle of the sermon,

heading for the stained-glass Virgin Mary,

and you whispered as you passed,

“Take your glories where you may.” 

And like the fishermen who left their nets

to follow Jesus

and become fishers of men,

I got up

and followed you. 

I did not know how my husband felt about me doing that. 

I did not care. 

I started partaking of apples and pomegranates

in equal measure. 

…

Sofia, you told me you had never even touched a gun before. 

But you were clearly too skilled

when those men cornered you

and you took them all down. 

Admit it. 

You just lied because

you wanted me to give you that “hands-on” shooting lesson,

didn’t you? 

“Are we not all murderers in some way, Katya?”

you said to me when I challenged you. 

“After all, a human being is a heart. 

Break that, and how can it go on living?” 

I had to ask,

“Don’t you have a broken heart, Sofia?” 

“It still beats, Katya,” you said, quietly. 

“It still beats.” 

…

For me, it’s always been the darkness I liked;

the way the lights roll off the water between the alleyways

reminds me of the past. 

…

You were adamant in your belief

that all memory is treachery. 

But one of my favourite memories

was us together in my husband’s house,

after dinner at the casino,

me in my evening gown,

you dressed as a waiter. 

You’d asked, “What’s your poison?” 

I’d answered, “Whatever you’re having, darling.” 

For the first time since moving to Naples,

I shook off the white furs

and showed you my dress –

the woman

under the animal. 

“You look good in red,” you said to me. 

Then you called me lisichka. 

Little fox. 

Which should have sounded wrong,

a Russian pet name in an Italian accent,

but that night it sounded right. 

I returned the compliments. 

“And you look good in green,

kukolka.” 

Little doll. 

I gave you one of my pearl necklaces. 

“Every woman should be allowed

to feel like she is looked at

beautifully.” 

My husband’s voice resounded in my head:

“Time isn’t like your pearls, Yekaterina. 

You can’t buy more. 

You think you can own time by wearing it,

but it just beats itself into your bones instead.” 

Well, no-one can tell me what I can and can’t buy. 

…

“If I were cursed, Sofia,

then I would never have found you.” 

“You could still lose me.” 

“Never.” 

…

I started being Katya,

being myself,

not because I fell into my role as Goncharov’s wife,

but because I discovered my inability. 

My unwillingness. 

I knew he cared for me,

but not beyond the presentation we put on for his peers. 

The peers who could end his life at any moment. 

And it wouldn’t be so unbearable

if we were at least still friends,

but all of that went to Andrey –

the friendship, the love, the care –

at least as much as Goncharov was capable of

beyond his own inadequacies. 

Andrey could not live loyally,

so let’s see how he does in death. 

…

I didn’t want Goncharov’s name in your mouth. 

I should have taken his money and left. 

It’s not obvious why I didn’t. 

All this time wandering the wreckage of his house –

I’m sorry, Sofia, it must have killed you. 

“Unlike you,” you said to me,

“I do not lure to cannibalise. 

I watch, and I starve.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Well, stop it! 

What do you take me for? 

Stop watching and devour me in full already,

won’t you?” 

So you did. 

I must have looked like a jewel

when you split me open. 

…

“I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll have me.” 

“I wouldn’t have anyone else.” 

I lay in bed with you. 

We wanted to do so much,

but ended up doing so little. 

I ran my foot up and down your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I thought of what I knew

(what little I knew)

about your past –

how your Jewish family came to Naples,

how you lost them somewhere,

how the Poor Clares took you in and cared for you,

how you searched for your family amidst the Nazis,

how you lost that leg in the riots. 

“The world wants you dead,” I said,

more to myself than you. 

You turned to me. 

“Do you want me dead?” 

I forced myself to meet your eyes. 

“No.” 

You shrugged. 

“Then the world doesn’t want me dead.” 

We stayed in bed together for a while after that. 

…

We were always wasting time we never had. 

How could I love something which was never there? 

Oh, darling, that’s just grief. 

Time is like blood,

and I have wasted both. 

We could not go on forever,

could not fight the story,

could not step outside the marriage

or the mafia

or else. 

We were animals,

and animals, whether wild or tamed,

cannot fight the inevitable. 

“Time stops for no-one, Katya. 

Not even us.” 

…

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Wishful thinking.” 

“Sofia, I’m not cut out for the life you’re offering me. 

That different life. 

I am chained to my history –

a short chain. 

That’s why I cannot leave with you.” 

That’s why you and I

and my husband

and his lover

and your brother

and our enemies

are all in this boathouse. 

November’s the cruellest month of the year,

and Naples is full of fools. 

…

“Of course we’re in love!” I scream at Goncharov. 

“That’s why I tried to shoot you!” 

He laughs and cries at the same time. 

“If we really were in love,

you wouldn’t have missed.” 

He’s right. 

Our love was a grenade,

and now all that remains is shrapnel. 

He loved me, but only for a minute. 

I don’t know if he could handle any more. 

Love cannot be bought;

otherwise, we would have had a happy marriage. 

When we got married, I drew this line

between us and the world. 

He’s crossed that line,

and I can’t go with him. 

He and I are,

I think,

finally out of time. 

He has destroyed and betrayed himself

for nothing. 

That is his worst sin. 

My inability to be loyal to my husband

is what saved me. 

And what now kills him. 

What could now kill you, if you let it. 

…

You are pleading with me. 

“We can have the Forbidden Fruit

and it can be whatever we want!  

Let it be a pomegranate!  

Let us glut ourselves on it!  

And why do we have to follow everyone else’s rules

about what is and isn’t forbidden, anyway?  

None of us in this boathouse

are living within the law in the first place.  

There is blood on everyone’s hands.  

Can’t you and I sin a little sweeter?  

Can’t you admit that the sin you want most

isn’t a sin at all? 

Can’t you spit out the lies you’ve swallowed

in the Hell you found yourself in? 

We could grow our own garden somewhere!”

No, Sofia. 

This is my garden,

my Tree of Knowledge,

better the Devil I know,

and you wish you were my Serpent,

but this is my Underworld to rule

as much as any queen can rule there,

unhappy

but resigned. 

Go, Eve. 

Grow your garden alone. 

The Forbidden Fruit is there to be eaten,

to force us to go,

to let us step outside the walls meant to keep us in. 

But you just can’t make everyone eat. 

The pomegranate is within my reach,

but I have lost my appetite for seeds. 

…

I do what Goncharov would do,

and you know what that means. 

Death. 

Goncharov has never meant anything else. 

I will die like my father,

with a smile on my face. 

I will die for you. 

You were once a little girl, alone and scared,

but that girl is long dead. 

The Sofia that lives now? 

The world should fear her. 

Damn them as they would damn us. 

But don’t you ever raise a hand to me. 

…

Sofia, don’t cry. 

There’s no use trying to rewrite the story now. 

Sofia, get out of this boathouse. 

Take my boat. 

It’s fine. 

I won’t need it anymore. 

Go, zolotse. 

Leave Naples. 

Leave Italy. 

Leave the mafia behind. 

But take your two candlesticks with you. 

Light them on a Friday evening,

and watch the red of the sunset

wash over the white of the candles. 

Sofia, take your day of rest. 

No, a year of rest. 

Make every day a Shabbat. 

Remember to bless yourself. 

Sofia, choose wisely what you do now,

because it might be the last time you get to choose. 

“All memory is treachery.” 

I wonder how you will remember me. 

[wrestlingarsenal]

TLDR - I recap a poignant short story posted in 2000 which describes seeing beautiful young Bobby Shane rassle on TV back in the homophobic 1970s.

Bobby Shane would later morph into a cocky, flamboyant bleached-blond Heel like Ric Flair or Gorgeous George. However, he began his career as a fresh young pretty boy that made all the young gays swoon. I recently stumbled across a provocative short story that references him.

The author recalls being 10 years old, watching wrestling on TV with his redneck uncles down in Georgia: Ray age 19 and Kent age 25. Uncle Kent apparently had a man-crush on babyface Bobby Shane, who was suffering on TV that night. The author notes that Kent "truly did love Bobby Shane—in fact ached blue for him." (I know that feeling.)

In the match, Bobby takes a beating from an aggressive Black heel performing the old jungle savage gimmick. I'm guessing it looked something like this:

That's when homophobic Uncle Ray begins to taunt Uncle Kent for being queer for young Bobby Shane, which pisses Kent off because, back then, it was considered despicable and unmanly to be aroused by other men, including pro wrestlers if you can believe that. (I mean, we're SUPPOSED to be turned on by pro wrestlers, that's the whole POINT of pro wrestling. Am I right?! And who the hell WOULDN'T be attracted to young Bobby Shane?? But in the 70's, you had to keep that queer shit on the Down Low as I recall.)

Anyway, witnessing the grappling on TV becomes too stimulating and the Drunken Uncles tag team suddenly wanted to dominate someone (hey, I get it!) So they begin to roughhouse their little nephew, giving him Indian Burns and Red Bellies, all that grab-ass shit that young men do. And then it all goes downhill from there.

Anyway there is a lot more angst and regret to the story, but this scene just felt familiar to me as a horn-dog for wrestling who grew up around the same era. I can recall the hopeless yearning for the handsome Babyface in peril (mixed with vehement denials of any queer feelings); that tawdry and violent 1970s Rasslin on TV, holding everyone's rapt attention in case something hot should happen; those horny cravings to grapple somebody triggered by watching shirtless men on TV going at it; the sloppy rough-housing on the couch or floor, knocking over lamps while giving zero shits. Been there, done that, bought the skimpy briefs.

Trigger warnings: the original story contains homophobic, racist, and ableist slurs (including the N word and R word - which is how many people talked during the 1970s when this story takes place) and descriptions of violence. I do not condone the crude language, I do not condone frightening children or making them cry - I just felt the wrestling scene sounded familiar.

The story was posted in 2000 to the Arkansas Literary Forum, an early and short-lived attempt to use the Internet for intelligent discourse rather than just porn, gossip, and fake news (we were still idealistic 23 years ago -- it hurts me to remember how earnest we were.) The story was written by journalist Phillip Martin and is titled, "Before Bobby Shane Grew a Mustache and Became Evil."

[antiradqueer]

Okay, allow me to tell you this story, because I literally just got back from school because I got sick BECAUSE of this story (it's not that bad actually, I'm pretty sensitive to these things, but it's still interesting)

So, there is a blog (that I prefer not to name) that is very famous among the community of my identity. I saw all my favorite blogs interacting with this blog and this blog has even interacted with ME (and they are so famous that I felt like I was talking to a celebrity that day)

But, I had never taken the initiative to follow them. Out of shame, since I felt they were a VERY important person and I am extremely sensitive to criticism (especially from people I consider important).

Well, I overcame all my shame and started following them a few days ago. I noticed that in their pinned post there was nothing about opinions on radqueers but since they always interact with my favorite blogs that are openly anti-transid and anti-c and vice versa, I just thought it was kind of obvious, like, I think being anti-PRATs is the "standard opinion", right?

Well, that went on for some time. Very little time, in fact. In less than two days, I noticed that their account simply disappeared from the list of people I followed. I was scared thinking that the account had been suspended, but I was suspicious that that wasn't the problem... And in fact it wasn't, they blocked me.

Well, it's not like I'm some horrible monster who would punish them for it or smth, but I was bothered by what I could have done to make this happen. I have never been blocked in my life, and by such an important person? I know being blocked on Tumblr isn't something you should take personally, but without any discussion? I don't wanted but took it personally, and that's what triggered my super-strong-anxiety-attack that made me feel sick today.

So, for that reason, I decided to check their pinned post again, see if I missed anything, violated any limits (unintentionally) or something, and then I logged in under another account, but I didn't find anything. But, of course, I still wanted to see their posts, and I kept seeing them (even though every time I remembered that anxiety and wondered if I was too horrible to be blocked by someone so amazing).

Then, checking out this blog of theirs and some other sideblogs (sorry, I know what I did sounds terrible, and it really was, but I became so obsessed with what I could have done, maybe this is my possible AvPD but I'm not sure), I found two very interesting things...

First, a post that started with "hey antis" (🚩?) and then went on to say that assuming that all transid or paraphilic people should "see a psychologist/psychiatrist" is the same as assuming that people with other disorders have to go to therapy to "cure themselves" and only then be allowed to live in society. And, in fact, if you think of "transid" as meaning, in this specific case, BIID or Munchausen (I'm not sure if that's how you spell it but I believe you know what I'm talking about), and think that paraphilic disorders still are disorders, it's a good point to make, so I didn't mind so much... But I was a little more alert.

So the second one was posted on the main blog, and it was simply they saying that "transid ppl are not racists or ableists, and most antis are ableists because they think being transid is a disorder and still shame people for it" and... Yeah, I think that concludes the story. I felt sick today because of the anxiety of the other days, but more than that, I can't stop thinking about it. It's like my whole world has fallen apart. Such a loved person in my community... and they simply support transid. Crying, screaming even.

TL;DR: there is this super famous blog in my identity community and I finally overcame my shame and started following them a few days ago, but I was blocked days later. I started looking at their blog (and sideblogs) to see why they blocked me, and I found, on a sideblog, a post saying "hey antis" and arguing that transids shouldn't be forced to go to therapy, and after forgiving that one, I found another post on their main blog, and this time it was just them saying that antis are ableists because "they think being transid is a disorder and they still persecute transid ppl".

sorry for the late answer

long ass ask so imma just let others read

[the-black-bulls]

Hey! Can I ask why you think Rhya's human host is an Adlai? Thanks!

Hey there! I was hoping for someone to ask me this haha... it took me forever to answer this though, sorry about that.

Before I go any further, trigger warning: mention of suicide.

I'm gonna be honest and say that my reasons behind this theory are mostly personal - I like the elves, Rhya is my favorite out of the main elves, Gauche's elf, Droit, is my favorite out of the side elves... this is their first meeting after the massacre, they high-fived - and I've been fascinated about their friendship ever since, coming up with theories and scenarios to highligh it (yes the bulls aren't the only people I stan; elves are my second beloveds).

Very self-indulgent of me. I know. But aren't we all? People do that shit with their ships, I can do it with friends ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyways I didn't truly consider this theory until fast forward later when I came across this interesting piece of info about the human Rhya reincarnated into:

(Tabata's Q&As in Volume 25)

Pretty interesting, right? There's not that many named characters in the manga who are fallen nobles/aristocrats, the Adlai House is the only name whose members were referred as Disgraced.

Here is the thing though, I've seen many people interpreted what I believed the "Fall" of House Adlai as simply a case of Gauche and Marie's parents getting murdered and betrayed by their relatives of the same family and the results only caused harm to their children and that's about it. I don't think it's the case, not with how Damnatio victimized Marie during Asta's trial by exposing her ruined nobility and ties to House Adlai with the implication of it being a sensible excuse to execute her. I'm positive the Adlai House has been pretty much taken down completely by another aristocrat/noble family and the surname became as good as dirt afterwards, which forced all members of the family to be labelled as disgraced and ruined because there is no hope for a house with neither heads nor heirs to keep it kicking in an aristocratic world.

This leads me to my theory - Rhya's human host is an Adlai. I have no reason to think otherwise since Tabata left the specific details of his origins unknown and it's always more interesting and fun to connect characters with similar background and develop canon events that happened in the past. In my theory, Human Rhya is a branch member of the Adlai House and has been surviving for years before the toll of his situation became too much to endure and, as Tabata worded it, he was this close to end it all, and I think this is kind of ironic because Rhya is one of the few characters in the series who showed suicidal thoughts. It also explains why Rhya didn't need a new body to remain in the living world like Vetto and Fana since his human host has no attachment to his own body.

One more point that is likely me reaching, but Rhya's Imitation Magic which is for sure shared with his Human Host, and Gauche's Mirror Magic are the only two magical attributes that have copying abilities, and in this series characters with blood ties tend to share similar if not identical abilities or themes, so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My other favorite "they're related" theories are Half Brothers Henry and William, Noelle sharing blood ties to the Seabed/Underwater people from her Father's side of the family, and Half Brother and Sister Luck and...... Sally! I bet you didn't see that one coming 😛