#and even then mistakes still happen. i wish the world was kinder to some people. i wish good things lasted forever. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mypointerfinger · 6 months ago

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August 8, 2024, 12:00am

i think i’m nearing the end of my tenure.

i don’t mean to be a pessimist about everything, but it’s a hard ideology to escape. being raised by the internet is the worst thing to happen to me, and most likely will lead to me leaving. my parents marriage has been strained since before i have memories. so many bad times marking me from my childhood and teen years. what sort of life is spent wondering “what if?” for the better part of your days.

i’m still miserable, i still work at the job i hate. every drive has been a nightmare, not for traffic but for being alone with myself. i’m torturing myself. my thoughts are becoming slower and more focused, but on death and how worthless i am. my 23rd birthday passed a week ago, and i saw a tweet a few days after it, something like “always talking about getting your life together, bro you’re 22 it’s too late.” stuff like that sticks with me. we both know it’s a joke, you and i, but many jokes come from half truths. my brain compartmentalizes everything negative at the absolute forefront of every instance, and that little stupid post has bothered me for almost a week.

i didn’t feel loved growing up. i felt like i was fucking everything up, but never had anyone to look to for help. my parents chastised my mistakes but didn’t offer help in how i could do better next time. i would just be catching insults and having to figure it out myself. (i havent figured anything out.) i remember plenty of times trying to hide from them and the abuse, and while i’m thankful it was never physical, mentally i am scarred 100%. almost exactly 8 years ago, i was sitting in the closet behind me as i write this. my dog just died, and i had nobody to look to for comfort in the house. my mom was having a breakdown in the living room and my dad had just gotten home to join in. i was shaking and crying and remember how badly i wished Hussar was there with me. it’s a weird thing to deal with these things, always bringing the severity down when it really fucked my life up, you know? i didn’t develop any real skills as a kid, i begged my parents to let me quit everything they signed me up for, i didn’t have friends in person and didn’t know how to make them. i feel hopeless socially. i am terrified of people. moreso fearful i’ll like weird in front of them, or that i’ll be too over the top in the moment and push people away. me emotional maturity is nonexistent and wish that i was capable of working on it, i just have no clue where to begin. it’s like trying to learn a language without hearing or reading it, no foundation and no concept of what to even aim for.

truth be told i rambled the last half of that paragraph to avoid talking about the real shit: i thought about writing a note tonight. i’m starting to feel irredeemably hopeless, i lost the small amount of hope i had left that i honestly didn’t know was there. for people not in my shoes, it’s difficult to portray the feeling of just wishing to not be here. i don’t wanna experience death, i don’t wanna give up, but at some point the mental anguish i’m experiencing is piling up and overflowing. i wish i treated my mother better. it’s a funny thing being so conflicted about the person who’s supposed to be your world. like, “oh how can you wish to be kinder to someone who abused you?” the old saying—hurt people hurt people—is appropriate. my mother grew up with abusive parents herself, they were drinkers. on top of the abuse, i don’t remember if i mentioned it or not, but she’s very lonely, almost in a similar spot to me. we both are in constant solitary confinement. my dad seems unfazed but he’s a military man, and of us 3 he gets the most social interaction. i’m starting to tangent again, but the point being.. i have a lot of things i haven’t forgiven myself for yet. some days i feel like i’m intrinsically supposed to be evil, maybe i should be selling fentanyl or murdering innocent people for the thrill so good people have a job to do. maybe my purpose is to be the villain. as insane and illogical as that sounds, it’s a true side of my thoughts that i wish i didn’t have. the more logical side says that’s a stupid fucking plan.

i have a couple social gatherings coming up, i’m gonna see some friends from grade school and their friends from high school. i’ve only met two of them in person before and i’m horrified to meet the others. i don’t wanna be weird. we play games online and i’m still letting me frustration out on there. almost every night, i get off the computer feeling like a coward and a freak. at the bare minimum, my passtimes should be fun, but even simple things like video games are just.. i take them so seriously that i get blinded by rage. i punched my desk so hard earlier i gashed my fist open. i said a bunch of horrible shit like every other day, and not even because i really want that for someone else. i’d never genuinely wish for someone’s death. but i still say horrible shit that just is so fucking embarrassing. it’s exhausting, i feel like 2 completely different people some days. like, how can i go from a perfectly fine experience on Tuesday, having a good time, performed well, didn’t say anything crazy, to tonight. tonight, where i blew up and said i wished some random person hung himself in his closet. it’s funny to reread some of this stuff because i can’t even believe that it bothers me so much to the point i say such vulgar stuff. i think i brought my parents up because it’s a partial problem from how i was raised. you reflect who your parents are to an extent and my dad has always been prone to anger, my mom is severely mentally unstable. what a culmination! right?

for my last spew of bullshit.. (and no, i’m not gonna do anything to myself tonight)

i feel like my mind never slows down. the internet really has brought my mind to a place of dopamine dependency. TikTok, YT Shorts, top 5-10 lists, fast flashy advertisements. just EVERYTHING all feels like it’s limiting my attention span, and in turn, makes my brain crave for that next hit. the problem i got with that is how i don’t get a hit anymore from ANYTHING. the combo of my mental state and the fast pace that my thoughts are running at causes me to perpetually be negative to myself. i have days i can’t even look in the mirror because the voice in my head is gonna just start commenting on every slight imperfection. there’s no literal voice in my head, moreso it’s a dialogue between me and myself. the sheer impulse and violence that vibes from my brain needing dopamine is ruining my life, and as of now i have no power to control it. i need a mentor, maybe electroshock therapy or whatever my doc said. since sort of meth treatment or something where they give you tranquilizer and it alters your brain chemistry.

disjointed post but i don’t care, documenting my thoughts is what matters more than anything to me right now. this is probably great for the attention span thing. i’m never beating the loser allegations

love j

#blog

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jaijai0724 · 1 year ago

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If we were given the chance to return to our past, would we take that chance or would we rather stay in the present?

Throughout our lives, there have been moments when we wished we could go back in time, even if it's just for a moment, an hour, or even a mere second. We’d wonder, if only we said one word differently, acted differently, or did things differently, then maybe we’d be in a better place than where we are right now. There may even be a time when we wish that we go back in time to when we were just little kids—a time when we only look forward and have no regrets to look back on. Maybe with a fresh beginning and immense desire to start anew, we would live more wisely and life would transpire differently and maybe then, we would turn out to be better people. If only time had been kinder to us, we would have fewer regrets about our lives and we wouldn't have lost so many valuable people and possessions. But this wish of ours will never be granted, because time is linear, and it does not forgive mistakes. It doesn’t make exceptions. However, if by some miracle, we were given the chance to go back in time, would we take that chance to relive our past or would we rather remain living in the present?

It was during my last year as a high-school student when I’d gotten so obsessed with the idea of Regression. This idea of ‘Regression’ does not pertain to the well-known psychological term which means to mentally regress to our younger minds, but it means to turn back time and physically return to our younger selves. For a long time, I always had this thought in my mind, “How nice would it be to go back in time to when I was still wondering how life would be like as an adult?.” Back to the time when I was still so adamant about growing up and so curious about the world. Back to when I still had people support my two little feet and caressed me when I cried.

There isn’t a particular reason why I had gotten so obsessed with this ‘Regression’ thing. Perhaps it was the fact that I was failing in school, or the fact my relationship with my parents turned sour, or the fact that my life was crumbling apart and I had everything in my power to stop it; but I didn’t. Everything in my life seemed wrong. I badly needed an escape from this miserable life that I created, and so, I hoped and I hoped that something will give me salvation. It had gotten so bad that I would pray to God, night after night, “give me one chance, just one chance, and I’ll make my life right this time.” If God would allow me to have another take in life, I promised I would be a better friend, a better daughter, and a better person.

Do I still think this way? No, definitely not. Looking back, I just wanted something (or someone) to blame for how my life turned out. I just wanted to prove that I ‘deserved’ a second chance in life, that I don’t deserve to suffer just because I wanted to live. I didn’t want to accept that I brought myself to ruin, that I had so much time to fix my mistakes and redeem my regrets. And that’s the thing about life, we can always fix what we’ve ruined only if we tried.

Bad things are bound to happen. Turning back time does not give us the guarantee that everything will flow in the right direction or that we can avoid the mistakes and accidents that life would give us. A second chance—we don’t really need it. All of our regrets and all of our "what ifs" can be solved without having to turn back time because apologies exist, and we have everything in our power to make things right. What we are in the present does not define how life would transpire for us in the future. We have the capability to change and mature. Opportunities get lost, but new ones will come again. Relationships turn sour, but they do not have to end. Embarrassments are made, but time passes, and we’ll forget them eventually. Even if time turns back, bad situations will inevitably happen. We don’t need a second take in life to undo our past, we can do it now in the present.

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quickdeaths · 1 year ago

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"Who's to say? The manga industry has already begun releasing new works back in Japan." Tasteless though some of them were. Some web novels had already used the Tragedy as starting points for an isekai story, or some sort of alternate history. It was the purview of the 14th division, and the 10th, to make sure those stories were swiftly removed. "People crave entertainment even in harsh circumstances, I suppose." They were both sitting here, after all. "I wouldn't be surprised if film production returns sooner than one would think, though, given the attempt to appeal to as many as possible as a sort of universal balm, I should imagine the situation regarding queer leads to remain more-or-less the same."

Then again, Shinobu wasn't sure she could see it mattering much either way. It would take time before the public would feel safe walking to a movie theater, and perhaps longer still before something new capture the collective attention, rather than most simply returning to old, pre-tragedy favorites in the name of comfort and nostalgia. As far as it related to Shinobu, perhaps it had even less relevance. Their time of casual dating and sex was long over. More likely than not, they'd never be intimate with someone again, so what did it matter if a film represented them or not?

"Don't tell her anything about me." Anzu was there, trying to hold Shinobu's face in her hands, pleading and wrathful in equal measures. "I'm serious, Shinobu-chan. Don't say a single word about me to her. She doesn't deserve to remember me, and if you ever cared about me, you'd respect my wishes and leave right now." It hurt to listen to her, and it hurt to think about her. More than anything, Shinobu wished she could hold Anzu close to her and tell her how she missed her, and how she wished things had been the other way around, but there was no sense in any of that now. This Anzu was only a symptom of her broken, diseased brain.

"It was Miss Saionji." Sonia hadn't asked, but the unspoken question was understood regardless. "She and Anzu were quite antagonistic from time to time, at school." That was why Miss Saionji had gone for her, rather than the more obvious physical threat in Shinobu. It would have been a mistake, if only Anzu had allowed her to take her shot. "But even after everything, Anzu wished to help. She was very convinced, before the world knew the specifics of what had happened, that something had happened. That you were victims of Junko Enoshima as much as anyone else." Whether it was her natural optimism, or her emotional intelligence, she'd known, even as Shinobu herself had been willing to write them all off. It was important to remember that about Anzu, and the most important thing to carry forward.

For a few moments, Shinobu was silent, still, as Anzu screeched and berated her. It was hard to ignore her rage, Shinobu thought, but for Sonia's sake, she'd need to do her best. "I do forgive her, though. Miss Saionji." On the archer's tongue, they couldn't tell if the sentiment was true or not. Part of her forgave the dancer, perhaps. The kinder part, the gentler part, the part more touched by people like Anzu, Seiko, and Sonia herself. "I do. I know that your actions, individually and as a group, were not your fault. I wouldn't be here - on this island, or in your cabin - if I hadn't already forgiven all of you."

The cabin was a bit cold in the evening, with the storm out, and Shinobu lacked any sort of blanket to cover herself with. She shivered. "Although, for Miss Saionji's sake, and her safety, I think that we should be kept apart, and that I not be permitted to be alone with her. When she wakes up, that is." Hands as quick to violence as Shinobu Yaguchi's couldn't be trusted. With how roughly she'd brutalized Byakuya Togami, and how far she'd nearly gone, all for his minor crime of being extremely unpleasant, Shinobu couldn't say with any certainty that she wouldn't outright kill Miss Saionji before someone (herself, or otherwise) stopped her.

The conversation had made them restless, with Anzu's interjections not helping matters. She alternated between obscenities and vulgarities, neither of which were easy for the archer to stomach. They'd made a deal, hadn't they? It had been intended to quiet that loud, angry, bitter piece of her mind, but perhaps ever assuming anything to be so easy or simple was a mistake. Knowing that Anzu would surely follow after her, Shinobu rose from the chair, pulling her bag into the kitchen. Sometime to eat might help, and if not, to stand and shift her weight from one leg to the other kept her occupied.

"Mm, I believe so," she murmured, setting a bag of popcorn inside the microwave and pulling out a pair of collapsible trays from inside her backpack. "When time and availability allowed, of course. She was exceptional. I wouldn't claim to be an expert, but my understanding is that theater is often rather specialized when it comes to the roles one plays, but Anzu had a versatile kind of mastery." She was sitting on the counter beside the microwave, glaring at Shinobu silently. Perhaps even the cognition of Anzu Tachibana was vain enough not to speak over someone singing her praises.

"Whether it was a soft, tragic girl, or a brash, hot-headed hero, or a villainous monster, she was impossible to look away from on stage. Anzu never let obstacles slow her down, either, despite her gender and modern sensibilities presenting an issue for the theatrical establishment." It was nice to talk about her. Her unique personality, her many accomplishments. They'd already made their peace with the fact that they'd never see her smile again, not truly, but speaking at length about Anzu was enough to remember how radiant she was when her smile caught her off-guard, too quick or too strong to be restrained by her performative instinct.

There were snacks in the backpack, laid out on the counter and then distributed in the wells of the tray. What Sonia liked to eat these days, Shinobu still wasn't entirely sure, but hopefully there'd be something to suit her tastes. "Although, that's hardly everything. She loved being out and about, and I believe you went shopping together, or ate together at cafes and trendy eateries, things like that." Almost, they mentioned the time when all three of them ate ramen together on a cold night in February, before thinking better of it. What reason was there to insert herself into a story that should be able Anzu?

Returning to the main room, Shinobu set down two cups of water upon coasters at Sonia's nightstand, then held out a tray for her - a small bowl set in it filled with popcorn, while the other sections had an array of nuts, dried fruit, potato snacks, non-chocolate sweets, and the like. Her own tray wasn't dissimilar, and Shinobu moved her chair closer to the bed for her water to be more easily within reach, before turning back to the movie. "Embarrassing indeed," she murmured, not quite sure how to respond to Sonia's claim of being hideous. It wasn't true, of course, but she had no idea how to say it without coming across as a particular way.

"By the way, Miss Nevermind," Shinobu started, looking over to her rather than focus on the film. "As it relates to bonding over books, or watching movies together, or things like that..." It was too personal. Even if they'd once been friends for a short while, Shinobu had ruined it. Entirely, it was her own fault. If anything, what Shinobu Yaguchi should have wanted was complete depersonalization - to become a helpful spirit without need or want for acknowledgment. But, the rain wouldn't let up until morning at the earliest, and the comfort of Sonia Nevermind's presence balanced out the discomfort of everything else, and perhaps it wasn't entirely inappropriate to desire with her some degree of personal friendship. "Though you may find it strange, or think that I'm crazy, or simply disbelieve me altogether, I enjoy your company."

It didn't seem fair. Even if the films Shinobu had found in the library were likely over ten, or even fifteen, years old, it was wrong that for everything made for teenagers, there was nothing and no one that she could see herself in. She'd brought them to amuse Sonia, the former princess wanting to watch something, anything, that didn't remind her of murder and death, angst and pain, regret and despair. But she wondered if the film choices were grating on Shinobu's nerves: a beautiful girl nurturing friendships before getting her happily ever after with a dreamy, handsome boy in the end. Regardless, she sat in Sonia's cabin and watched them without complaint.

"I do not think it should upset people," She interjected before thinking better of it. Regardless of her sexual conduct over the years, particularly as a Remnant of Despair, Sonia didn't think she had a stake in such a conversation. Love and sex were for people who were desirable, after all: the aftermath of the Tragedy reminded her that they were anything but. It wasn't Gundham's fault she was a monster. "Love comes in many forms. And all of them deserve to be shown, if the entertainment industry can be rebuilt again. I doubt making new films and shows is high on anyone's list right now."

There was too much that needed to be done just to stabilize the quality of life, something which she was constantly reminded of. Her cowardice, referred to politely as 'healing' (and with a sarcastic edge by one member of the Future Foundation in particular), kept her confined to Jabberwock Island. That, and the still-healing stitches in her foot: putting pressure on it was still too painful to walk save for a few steps at a time, so when Shinobu held out her hand for the disc case Sonia hadn't hesitated to hand it to her.

Her eyebrows raised in interest as Shinobu heeded her order without any resistance. Not that she expected any: her friend had common sense, and darting outside during an incoming hurricane was a disaster waiting to happen. And Sonia doubted Shinobu's lodgings were any more comfortable than her own, even if the latter had gotten rid of much of the clutter and junk that had piled up in her room, courtesy of those in Novoselic who still believed in her.

A poor choice, really: their queen had self-inflicted wounds and spent her time watching old movies made for teenagers, an innocence she'd never be able to reclaim.

But she could try to live vicariously through fictional portrayals, though she doubted an American film would be easy to identify with: American teenagers seemed to have far more freedom to do as they wished than her cohorts both in Novoselic and Japan had ever been granted. Sonia tried to shift her weight, hoping to keep her muscles and joints from locking into one position from sitting in the same way for too long, but it put unexpected pressure on her foot, causing her to hiss gently in pain before flopping back against the pillowed headboard of the bed (fluffed by Shinobu, naturally).

"I am sorry for that," She replied to the beginning of Shinobu's story. Even if by the time she and her friend had likely fled, Sonia had commandeered a plane to return her to Europe so she could begin her rampage through Novoselic and the rest of the continent. "But for the Future Foundation to even recruit you as a fool's errand, as you say, you must have been very valuable to them. But if you and your friend left to return to Tokyo and only you arrived, then-"

She cut herself off as she watched the other woman put the new disc into the player. Of course, it only dawned on her what had likely transpired after she'd said it. "I am sorry for that too. I...I doubt it would have been me or my forces but...if it was, I regret it deeply. I cannot imagine you ever forgiving me for that."

At least with Shinobu's back before her, she couldn't see her hang her head. If she hadn't done it, certainly one of her friends had been the culprit. Sonia opened her mouth to ask but closed it again: maybe she didn't know, maybe she didn't want to tell Sonia who was responsible.

It was better, then, to move on to happier memories. When everyone they both loved was still alive. "Class 77-A..." Sonia repeated, furrowing her brows and trying to force something that wasn't there. So often, her brain felt like slices of swiss cheese: some things, like her exploits as a Remnant of Despair or her time in the simulation or her life before Hope's Peak were recalled in bits and pieces, but other memories were empty holes. Something had been there, but as much as she tried to give them shape, a smell or a taste or a feel or something that would connect her to her past, it remained a fuzzy, distorted nothingness. "I guess there must have been another Class 77, if my friends and I were in the B course. But I do not remember them, I do not remember meeting any of them."

She sighed in defeat, the same sort of reaction she had when she tried to walk more than a handful of steps without her crutches. She'd need Shinobu to fill in what she couldn't remember with memories of her own: unfortunately, it didn't seem like she could be much help, at least with happier times Sonia had experienced and had now been forgotten. "That is unfortunate," She shook her head as several pre-recorded trailers played on the new disc: a sort of torture no one could skip through. Talking to Shinobu was far more preferable. "I wonder if we had been friends, if we would have liked each other. I am not the person I used to be. I doubt you are either. Maybe we could have bonded over books, if we had tried to be friends."

But there was someone she had been friends with, apparently: a girl named Anzu Tachibana, a star of the stage. From the way Shinobu had spoken of her, it seemed she wanted Sonia to remember her. Something that made Sonia feel worse, something to match the pain from the stitches and every time she put pressure on them. Yet Sonia tried again, to force a memory her brain just didn't have. Or if it did, it was buried under some lock that she did not have the key for. A constant state of frustration for her and every former Remnant of Despair: they had memories of experiences they wanted to forget, and very few of things they wanted to keep in their hearts always.

"I apologize," She gave Shinobu a remorseful look. All she did these days, it seemed, was apologize: there was no alcohol in her cabin to numb the pain anymore, trying to repent was all she had. "But I cannot recall meeting an Anzu Tachibana. But you say she was the Ultimate Kabuki Actor. Did I...did I attend her shows? Do you remember how I spent time with her? That might help me remember something about her."

Beyond an interest in the library, it was something they both had in common: both of their best friends had died. Something Sonia doubted the other woman wanted pointing out, so she turned her attention to the television and some sort of choreographed dancing gymnastics routine, American "cheerleading" it was called. She shook her head in disgust at the grand finale of the opening segment, a blonde girl appearing fully naked in front of her entire school. "That truly is a horrifying situation," She remarked, shuddering. "Embarrassing surely. I hate undressing in front of anyone nowadays. It just reminds me of her: a parting gift to ensure I will always be hideous."

#morethanaprincess #c; the sun-slaying arrow #v; the brink of despair #honestly shinobu will take any opportunity to talk about anzu #if you let her she'll talk about anzu the entire evening #but also she is slowly starting to convince herself that being close to sonia isn't a crime #surely this decision to accept some amount of feelings will not bring with it #more eventual feelings

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punkpandapatrixk · 3 years ago

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'Surely, we were born into this world to be loved.' — everywhere by Sakamoto Maaya

Your being hard on yourself; your hating and blaming yourself; somebody else who didn't know how to love you taught you darkness. It's not your fault. Now it's time you let go of what they taught you. You don't have to associate anymore with their bullshit perception of reality. You must make the choice, though.

Let's stop being an enemy to ourselves.

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Pile 1 - Dragon with An Amnesia

King of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles Rx

Priestess of Patience & Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

I'm sensing this group attracts strong-minded people who feel like they've done very bad things in life. You may have needed to engage in certain behaviours that are considered bad by society as part of your survival. Whether that survival entails material possessions or simply your sense of belonging to this world. The thing with this world is... good people sometimes do bad things just because they think it's the right thing to do so as not to cease being.

What I'm seeing here is you've come from very harsh backgrounds. Probably a masculine figure in your life is/was a bully and you watched how they behaved or dealt with issues in their uniquely bully ways as you were growing up. Subconsciously, your child mind took it that if you didn't toughen up, you'd be eaten by the world. Because the world is full of big bad hurtful wolves, you thought it necessary to become a dragon yourself.

But the reality of you is, you're not at all a selfish nor mean person. You're far from that. If only the world were kinder and more ideal, you'd be the most generously loving person on the Planet. You care about other people's wellbeing and wish to share a lot of your abundance with even the people who don't deserve you. But maybe that's the thing—stop sharing yourself with those who make you feel like you could never be enough.

If you would shift your focus and from now on work on only healing and providing for yourself (and also distance and eventually leave behind those who are hard on you), eventually enough a lot of your innate kindness and gentleness will resurface. It takes time to heal ourselves from the toxicity of the world we took as our own as part of survival, but it's gonna be so worth it because it'll bring you home to your true self.

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Pile 2 - Your Life Is not A Mistake

Queen of Pentacles Rx, 5 of Pentacles

Priestess of Intuition & Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Exhaustion seems to be the name of the game. You have this immense feeling of lethargy and exhaustion that never seems to resolve. Do you know why or how this happens? Someone you look up to or expect to shower you with love and affection never fulfils their duty. There is either chaos or a pang of emptiness in your heart that constantly needs to be tended by you. So much of your mental energy is spent trying to fix this hole in your heart, but nothing seems to be working.

I think it's mostly because you grew up with a motherly figure who didn't know how to be a mother—in the real sense of that word. Whether this was a grandma or your actual birth mother or even your single-parent dad (gender and role don't matter here). At any rate, an adult figure who should've been your shelter failed, quite horribly, at doing their job. If anything, you've witnessed how even they failed at taking care of themselves. You may even have had to be their caretaker instead.

But you were just a child; what could you have known better? Still, you have carried a lot of burden with you, and so many habits that you still have now are accrued through years and years of survival. You may have been receiving insights lately, about how unhealthy—physically or mentally—you've lived practically your entire life. Your gut instinct is trying to tell you it's high time some things changed.

The very first thing to do is make peace with your childhood and how you've had to grow up. None of that was ever your fault, and know that you're not the only one going through such a thing. Millions of young adults in this generation are broken as a result of the failure of our previous generations. It sucks and it isn't okay, but accepting this is the first step towards the resolution of your unpeacefulness.

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Pile 3 - Channel for the Divine

7 of Cups Rx, 3 of Pentacles

Priestess of Integrity & Silver Astronomer (Galileo Galilei)

You seem like a person who's constantly torn between options. On the one hand, you're an imaginative dreamer with a rich inner landscape of mind. But on the other, you also have the analytical and practical aspects of your personality that urge you to making your dreams and visions a reality. The problem here... is that your dreams are not dreams that belong to the frequencies of this Earth plane...

Due to the high-frequency nature of your dreams and visions, they seem blatantly impossible to you and you often brush them off as mere dilly-dallying loiter. The more conscious, practical aspect of you wants to focus on the mundane—that which seems more realistic than abstract daydreams. But in doing so, you hurt yourself a lot. Because this is an act of rejection of the true divine nature of your being.

Let me give you this insight: the dreams you dream, the visions that bother you every so often, the urging that takes you back to the same daydreams again and again; they are a clear transmission from your Higher Self. Literally, your team of Guides showering you with directions and setting up signposts here and there. Within the inner landscape of what your mind's Eye sees. The more you follow these seemingly erratic promptings, the clearer your Life's direction becomes.

However, one sure thing about following these visions is your feeling like a fool. And you don't like being made to feel like a fool. After all, you are indeed an unusually extraordinarily intelligent person. Remember that your high levels of imagination and such a rich mind are attributes of the highly intelligent beings on this Planet. So now that you're clear about that, you should also be clear that none of your dreams and visions is silly, to say the least.

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Feel free to support me on Patreon if you love this kind of content🍑I create stories and tarot readings that calm the mind & heal from within🍒

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

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♡100 followers special♡

Guys, I would like to thank all of you for all the support since I started this blog, you are the best <3 Btw this is the fic Elon Musk doesn’t want you to see lol, jk jk

Title: Humanity

Words: 3.6k

Summary: When you get sold to an odd looking robot after the last failure of a rebellion, things go better than you had expected. Until they don’t.

tw: robot/AI apocalypse au, dystopia au, slavery, slight non - sexual public nudity, discrimination, vulgar language, mention of death and child abuse (in the past), obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, angst

AD 3061y., 14 September

Your hometown was in ruins, shattered by the Forces and left without any source of food, clean water or reliable manpower. The rebellion had failed just like the first ten attempts and as much as you had wanted to believe this time would be different, your dreams stayed nothing more than a way to cope with the harsh reality. Any intelligent individual had either managed to flee before the prosecution or died in agony while trying. You could still hear their pained screams ringing in your ear, the desperate look in their pupils sealed forever in your mind along with the sound of heavy breathing slowly fading into the background like your own hopes for a better future.

The ones who decided to play meek and close their eyes to the inhuman torture happening in the area were spared, but what awaited them could potentially be worse than death itself. You were part of the flock of pitiful weak humans who had surrendered to the heartless machines wanting nothing more than to see mankind squirm and kneel underneath their mechanic heel like a bug. And now you would face the hour of judgment – tired and exhausted, heavy rusty chains around your bruised ankles making every next step a little harder than the last one. But you were certain that the most painful humiliating event hadn’t taken place yet and the thought made your blood run cold. You could recall the countless stories you used to hear on the streets from your friends about androids stealing kids and selling them like cattle to the most powerful leaders of society. Back then you would laugh at them, finding the ideas ridiculous, better fit for a conspiracy theory or a legend rather than an actual threat. But during that time life was easier – the robots were still your friends, just your average citizens, equal to the humans in every manner. It wasn’t until ten years later that some of them realized just how much better, stronger and smarter than the people they really were. That’s how the apocalypse started and that’s how it was going to end. These days the mortals were becoming extinct with the population cut down to one million. You didn’t have names or rights to any possession. Your mere survival had one purpose only – to entertain the machines so they could feel human again. And right now you were being dragged to Soraq, also known as the biggest slave market in the country.

----

It was just as terrifying as you had imagined it to be. The Capital was supposed to express wealth, luxury and maybe even happiness but your old human views were easily opposed when faced with the mud covering what was left of the pavement and the pale exhausted bodies of the mortals wandering the streets searching for a hot meal and a little bit of kindness it was clear no one wanted to provide. You reached out to help a young girl sobbing all by herself on the ground but the Officer roughly yanked your shoulder back and ordered you to keep going – his cold hard touch was enough to bruise your skin.

After a few long minutes of uncertainty your keeper finally stopped, pulling you up some black stairs leading to a small stage and if you weren’t too busy looking around for the others who were captured, you might have noticed the crowd gathered inches away from you. Soon enough you were forced to redirect your attention as you heard the approving screams and cheering below. There were hundreds of robots staring at you, smirking maliciously, pinning you with their cold calculating gazes. You finally realized that this wasn’t just a bad dream or a nightmare, something unreal you could easily run away from by opening your eyes. You were about to become property and the worst part was the way the cruel machines perfectly resembled people – they looked the same except for the dark red pupils each possessed which glowed when going into a fight mode. But unlike humans the androids had gotten rid of their most intimate emotions and fears, turning themselves into empty shells, shiny and murderous with no way to experience anything properly, be it pleasure or pain.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The Officers started off with a low chuckle, his heavy hand wrapped tightly around your arm. His voice should have been programmed to be monotone but now it had a playful edge to it. “Today our dear subjects have decided to be feisty yet again. They still haven’t learned their lesson it seems.” He grinned eerily, quickly followed by the mocking laugher of the crowd. Some even shouted slurs and insults but you tried to focus on controlling your feelings. You needed to stay calm if you wanted to survive. “We really can’t expect more from the mankind. They are primal after all, they just can’t learn from their mistakes.” The male robot paused for a second to fix his microphone. “It’s in their DNA code to be foolish and pathetic. That’s why we need to take better care of them.” He whispered the last line down your neck and despite knowing that the machines didn’t have actual lungs, you could swear you felt his cold breath on your sensitive skin.

“The woman is in her early twenties. Her background is unknown, but she certainly looks like someone you would want in your collection.” The android continued talking as if you weren’t there, his hands all over your tinier frame. The mass was yelling, but you only made out the words „down”, „strip” and „human”. Your eyes watered involuntarily and you let the tears stream down your cheeks in spite of the weakness they showed. It didn’t matter – it couldn’t get any worse so you could at least let yourself experience such little bits of comfort. In the next moment the Officer ripped your old ragged t-shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold autumn air. The hot red humiliation washed over you as the degrading whistles pierced trough your heart. It was such a cruel unfair punishment and you couldn’t even keep your composure long enough to not break down ugly – crying right there.

“The bidding starts at one thousand eros!” The robot’s evil voice echoed through the area, reaching the market borders. Suddenly all the attention was on your scared vulnerable half-naked self. More than ten androids raised their hands, making your stomach turn in terror. Most of them had unpleasant appearances, resembling old people, usually men. “Do we have two thousand eros?” The officer added quickly afterwards having seen the shown interest. This time there were only five bots willing to buy you for so much money – but the show was far from over. “Am I seeing three thousand eros?” Your keeper kept going, determined to drain your bidders off their wealth, but to his utmost surprise now there were only two robots with their hands in the air – one seemingly younger and the other looking all wrinkled and bitter at the world. You silently prayed that fate would work in your favor only this time and hand you over to the man who would treat you more like a living being and less like an object.

“Ten thousand eros.” Suddenly the android with a kinder appearance declared out loud, his cold stern gaze fixed onto you. The other male hesitated for a moment, probably wondering whether or not you were worth so much money, but at the end he cursed under his breath and slowly put his hand down with a sour expression. “Sold to K-010 for ten thousand eros!” The automatic voice of the Officer was ringing in your ear like an alarm while the crowd was shouting and cussing, some going as far as to criticize your new owner for giving up his monthly salary for a “cheap human whore”. Next he was invited on the stage to sign off all the needed documents leading to your freedom being ripped away forever and you were injected with a tiny chip which would make your location visible to your buyer at any given time. The android looked at you soon after and in one swift move he managed to place his leather coat on your shoulders, muttering at you to cover up. You obeyed, embarrassed by the reminder that your upper half was still fully exposed to all the hungry prying immortals. When the chains were finally removed, the robot took you by the hand and led you to a small white flying car with a yellow lily drawn on top – the brand was popular among the most powerful members of the Forces.

“Don’t even think about running away.” K-010 growled when he noticed the way your attention drifted to the nearby road before finally taking your seat. You knew it was pointless now that the tracking device was deep into your skin but deep down you still couldn’t kill the last bit of hope screaming at you to do something before you were too far away to find home again, wherever it was. “If you so much as look outside while we drive, I will use my lasers to turn you into ash. Okay?” You nodded meekly and sank into the soft comfortable seat, wishing that your body would stop shaking in fear but to no avail.

---

The journey was long and silent but it made you remember the days when music was still allowed and you used to turn the radio all the way up in your mother’s car. You would sing loudly until your throat hurt and your friends would ask you to just shut up and focus on the road. Everything was so normal and happy back then. The stinging nostalgia threatened to overcome so you tried to focus on something else. You finally faced your owner in an attempt to study his appearance. He was probably in his late twenties, his hair white with some black locks here and there, a fashion trend you usually didn’t care much for. You couldn’t afford to bother with your hairstyle when you were constantly running for your life after all. The robotic male had sun-kissed brown skin, he was taller than most human men and his lips seemed softer than most robots’. But the biggest mystery laid in his deep dark eyes, they looked scarlet at first but the more you stared, the easier it was to realize the color was actually brown.

“Are you a cyborg, K-010?” You asked in a small voice out of the blue, breaking the peace and quiet in the air. The android didn’t spare you much attention with his gaze fixed onto the open sky serving as a road, still he opened his mouth slightly to respond. “My name is Kyle, the numbers are just a formality.” He inhaled sharply as if he was reminiscing a bad memory. “And yes, I am biologically human – just with a few practical upgrades.” You had heard of such people before, the ones willing to become an experiment so they could join the high society oppressing their own neighbors, friends and relatives, setting the lands on fire and destroying the dying environment but you had never met one until today. Honestly, you felt betrayed. It was one thing to be some unfeeling machine’s plaything and entirely another to be owned by someone with a functioning heart even though they weren’t too keen on using it properly.

“Why would you do that?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips in the next moment. “You should know what humans have to go through just to stay alive. Today hundreds of us were crushed and sold like some animals! Yet you changed yourself to appeal to their disgusting standards.” You raised your voice, the hot tears already spilling down your cheeks yet again, your fists clenched in pure anger at the foolish greedy man. He simply shook his head and leaned back. “I had my reasons, sweetheart. You don’t know anything.” With that the conversation had ended, you could try and argue or even blame him for being a selfish bastard but it wouldn’t have done you any good so you decided against it. It didn’t matter much anymore.

----

A few months went by slowly even though time meant little to someone in your position. Living with Kyle wasn’t as terrible as you thought it would be – his mansion was big and spacious, luxurious even. You had your own room and you were allowed to explore the house in your free time. You didn’t have many duties to attend to, your work mostly revolved around cooking, cleaning and keeping company with your owner when he was too tired to keep the robotic mask on and just wanted something sweet, something weak, something more human around. He didn’t want much out of you so you tried to do your best and stay on his good side – there was always a warm meal waiting at the table at night, every window was carefully wiped from the previous dust and the glass was now shining brightly, and you would listen for hours on end to the cyborg’s ramblings no matter how dreadful it could be sometimes.

But it couldn’t be denied that the man had some odd habits, even if you were to overlook him buying a living being instead of simply hiring a maid. For example, you knew how thin the walls actually were because you could hear him cry almost every night. The half-robot would hold you close any time the news were too loud or a bottle of beer had fallen and shattered on the ground. Still you weren’t allowed to leave his home so all the doors leading to the outside world were locked while he was away or at work. And there were these weird long cuts on his shoulders you had managed to take notice of the first time your master had asked you to bathe him. You hadn’t meant to prey upon his naked form, but the task had been so awkward you needed something to focus on to drive the unpleasant thoughts away. The injuries looked deep and the man would close his eyes any time the soap made contact with them. Finally one day you gathered the courage to ask him what had caused the raw scratches. You were messaging his scalp gently, applying jasmine in his roots, trying to soothe his nerves and get to the information.

“ ’S not important. ” K-010 answered lazily while arching his back into your touch. More often than not the male would melt under your care and you couldn’t help but wonder just how lonely it was to be neither a human nor a machine. “She is dead now.” He whispered darkly, secretly hoping it wouldn’t reach your ear, yet it did. “Who is dead?” You questioned him after a while, stroking his wet locks until you heard him moan. You were getting better and better at provoking a reaction from the cyborg and despite knowing it was manipulative and a little devious, he was still the ruthless owner who held your one and only life in his palms. You needed to be sneaky if you wanted a safe, comfortable life.

“My mother.” Kyle added quickly before looking at the blue ceiling, the glossy material copying both of your reflections. The mention of the woman made the sensitive skin of his nape crawl but he kept talking. “The crazy bitch used to beat me every. She even tried to kill me a couple of times.” A slight smile appeared on his full red lips. “It didn’t work out in the end, unfortunately.” So that’s where the cuts were from – he had been violated in his childhood by no other than the person supposed to look after him. You had always hated abusive parents taking advantage of their authority and even now your own imagination made your heart ache at the picture it painted. A small boy being hit over and over until there his whole body was bruised and bloodied. A child with no one to turn to. It didn’t excuse your master’s evil doing but it certainly explained a lot. “Don’t make such a sad face, darling.” He cooed at you, reaching out to pinch your cheek. “I will always be grateful to the Forces since they gave me the power I needed to finally free myself from her grasp. I even buried her myself after everything was said and done.” Kyle grinned from side to side like a little kid waiting to be praised for the picture they had drawn, except now the man was speaking of the way he had murdered his mother. You were at a total loss of words, suddenly too frightened to respond.

“What’s so special about being a human anyways?” The cyborg grumbled, sounding almost offended of the words you still haven’t said but were definitely thinking deep down. You were staring forward unable to draw away from that one crack in the wall, his words flying above your head. Your confusion was interrupted by the man quickly raising to his knees and catching both of your hands with his strong robotized ones. The cold touch of the metal combined with the camouflage of a soft skin was enough to mess your mind even further into the maze that was his dark gaze. Next thing you knew the male had you pinned on the hard ground, spotlessly clean and reeking of abstergent. You tried to squirm away but the hold of your wrists was too tight and strong to even make your struggling worth the trouble. “Just look at how weak you humans are.” K-010 taunted you, smirking teasingly, cruelly, yet there was something desperate in his eyes, something hidden. “You are so fragile I could probably break you if I were to press harder on your flesh.” He whispered into your ear, breathing down your neck as he dug his icy fingers into your collarbone and made you whimper pathetically at the dull pain. “People are foolish creatures, illogical by nature. They try to fight authority yet the moment they are left with a free choice, they find a way to run from their responsibilities.” The cyborg chuckled maliciously while digging his nails further into your skin.

“We might be doomed forever because of our emotions but there is something you fail to consider.” You finally spoke out despite your rapid heartbeat and fear so great it could defeat death herself. The predator already had you in his sharp claws and there was no pointing in playing coy anymore. The worst had come to worst. Your words caught the attention of the half-robot and he licked his lips in anticipation to hear what you had to say. “Unlike the androids we can still experience love. And at the end a life without love is a life wasted in the big picture. We might be mortal but you are the ones waiting to die instead of living.” You spat at the man fiercely, ready to face any punishment he would bestow upon your weak tired body for the sheer honesty. Instead he started laughed maniacally, the sound so loud it hit the ceiling and echoed through the house like a pained scream and so violent his shoulders shook to the sides. For the first time his eyes were glowing in a bright red color so saturated and vivid you couldn’t stand to look at them.

“This is really funny, my little human.” Kyle pronounced carefully, having calmed down. He lowered his head so that his lips were ghosting over yours, just brushing against them. “I belong with neither humans nor robots so why does my chest ache every time I look at you? Tell me, darling, am I in love?” His voice was harsh, husky – as if he was purposely trying to sound evil but the tears in his eyes pointed at another feeling. A raw painful feeling.

You couldn’t reply not only because you had no idea what to say after the confession but also because you couldn’t breathe properly with his pretty, wicked face so close to yours. Your silence only managed to stir the cyborg up further into his madness and he kissed you roughly, hungrily lapping and biting at your lips until they were sore and bruised, the robotic man more than happy to lick the small drops of blood off. For a moment you considered kicking or shouting for help but there wasn’t anyone willing to in the radius of kilometers. No one of significance cared much about the few remaining mortals. “I could never love you.” You uttered weakly, half – heartedly pushing the man away. You were all alone in this and there wasn’t really a point in fighting someone so much bigger and stronger, yet a sad little part of you hoped that Kyle would leave you alone if you made it clear enough just how much his actions were hurting you.

“It’s fine if you don’t love me by choice.” Your master replied calmly in a cold piercing voice. His hands were wandering through your form stopping at your hips to draw them into his. The pretty dress you used to like so much was now crumpled and reeking of him, torn apart from your shivering body and thrown away. You wished you could cry but all the adrenaline had left you too uneasy to process the pain and fear. Kyle whispered in your ear while stroking your hair gently and it made you feel like a trembling sheep before a starved butcher. “I own you, little human.” He placed a small kiss on your hot sensitive neck. “And I have enough love for both of us.”

#yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere ai #yandere ai x reader #yandere cyborg #dystopia #yandere love #yandere concept #yandere oneshot #yandere OC #yandere male oc #yandere oc x reader #yancore

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blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years ago

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As always, I'm late to the whole things happening on tumblr thing, and my first thought about dark James was, "Finally, someone was going to say fuck racism and make James a POC!" But of course, I was late and wrong (story of my life, to be honest), and when I finally realized what it meant, I couldn't understand it at all. I mean, I admit, I'm a fan of the occasional Drarry, but the only ones I've liked were the ones where Draco changes his mindset and forms his opinions separate from his father's... so I could understand if one of the light side characters helped change the dark side characters, helped them to see the error of their ways and change their mindset, encourage them to continue to learn and grow from the dark side to the light side. But to change a character from the light side to the dark side, to corrupt one or two of the best characters, that makes no logical sense.

This whole "bad guys are hot" trope, it's honestly disgusting. I mean, not only is it hurting POC and Jewish people, it's hurting a lot of others... my mother (who was an abusive drug addict), chose the "bad guy" because to her, he was hot to her, and that's how I was born into a life without a dad, living on the poverty line. While it isn't the same as people who experience racism and antisemitism, those dark Jily stories trigger.

I hate that someone could write stories and romanticize the dark side because "bad guys are hot", like that didn't happen in real life, like it still isn't happening today... and this whole "don't like it, don't read it" thing, do people not realize that we've all been forced to read uncomfortable things our whole lives, like history books, the Bible and even some children and teen books, that were full of racism and no one did anything about it, they just let the racism continue?

The world is starting to feel like it's not safe enough to be in, and I'm honestly tired of life... It doesn't take much to be kind to people, but some people act like it's the hardest thing they've ever had to do. I'm angry, I'm devastated, and I'm scared for everyone who has to go through racism, antisemitism, LGBTQIA+ phobia, bullying and any other horrible treatments they should have never had to experience, but mostly, I'm tired of it all.

Just know that there are people listening, that you and everyone reading this are all loved, and that you all deserve better. I wish I could fix the world for everyone and make the world a kinder, safer place, but I can't do that... I can send internet hugs (if that's okay with you), and send good vibes, because you all deserve love. 🖤💜

Thank you for sending me this ask and sharing some difficult things about your own life. “It doesn’t take much to be kind to people but some people act like it’s the hardest thing they’ve ever had to do”. That’s so simple and yet so painfully true. We cannot fix the whole world, but we can make our little corner of the world better, safer, kinder. If everyone does that, that’s a big amount of extra kindness and safety out there.

None of us is perfect, we all - every single one of us - have unconscious biases against other people and are at risk of behaving in an unkind or bigoted way towards others who are different- and we can all make mistakes, say and do unintentionally mean things, like I’ve said here. I am not immune to this either. I have made mistakes too. To admit we were wrong, be genuinely sorry for hurting others and truly try to do better going forward is what we all have to do, even when it’s hard, painful and embarrassing and shameful to admit it.

There is a lot of negativity online which is bad for your mental health so take care kind anon, and know that every time people like you take the time to reach out and be kind to a stranger, you are making someone feel better, you are actively helping to make this a safer space. And people do! It’s hard to remember that when other people are sending hate anons etc. We can feel overwhelmed and hopeless about the state of the world sometimes. Don’t give up, anon! You are making a difference with your kindness.

I’m going to give you a quote from canon Head Boy James Potter talking to the students on his last day of school:

“I have made friends here that I know I will keep for the rest of my life. I consider them family. I have learnt a lot during my years in Hogwarts, from my friends, my teachers and those classmates who might consider themselves my enemies. To the younger students here today, and to our class, I have this to say: we are all flawed. Learn from your mistakes. Don’t be too proud to admit when you are wrong. Ask for forgiveness when you know it’s the right thing to do. Forgive your friends for their mistakes, but don’t blind yourself to those who don’t have your best interests at heart, and walk away from them. Do the right thing, even if it costs you. Stand up for the rights of your fellow students, don’t let bigots poison your mind. You may be tempted to think what can I do, a mere teenager? I thought that too. But every time you refuse to bow down to terror and division, you are fighting for the future of our world, the world we all belong to – muggleborn, half-bloods and purebloods. If we stand together as one, future generations will be able to enjoy the fruits of that peace, when perhaps these distinctions based on blood will have disappeared, and nobody will use blood terms to describe witches and wizards any longer. I look forward to a time when nobody remembers what the Sacred Twenty-Eight refers to, and all that matters is that you are simply a witch or a wizard, and deserve to be here.”

I stand by what I wrote then, and I think we could all (me included) do with being more like this.

We cannot fix the whole world, but we can do more to make our little corner of the world better, safer, kinder.

You just did that, anon. You are trying to make a difference. Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

#some people are so kind #we don’t deserve you #thank you 💕💕💕💕💕#loveliest tumblr friends #I mean it #we can be better #we can do better

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poodlejoonas · 3 years ago

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Dad!BC AU - before and after

Because I’m feeling so soft tonight, I wanna share my thoughts on the guys before and after they become dads. Everyone knows that kids change people, but sometimes the change is nice and wholesome.

I blame Joel and his sentimental edgy ass for that post on Instagram earlier.

(Under the read-more for length)

As the first dad of the group, Joonas was terrified of what the change would bring for him and Kirsten. He knew he would make his mistakes and he dreaded the day they would come. He was afraid that he was too immature to be a father - he read the comments online about him as a punk, about his Danish girlfriend who could barely read the hate comments written about her, and about their baby and how so many people “wished the poor girl luck” in dealing with a childish father like him. On top of that, Kirsten’s parents were begging her to leave Finland and him so they could help raise Sohvi because they thought they could do a better job than him. He was motivated to become the best dad he could be to prove them all wrong, but also to give his daughter the best life she deserved. He admits to his mistakes in the early days of fatherhood - he knows he should have been kinder to Kirsten when she was struggling mentally as a new mom.

Years later, with their third child on the way, the first two are a little bit older and they adore the hell out of their dad. Sohvi loves music like him and unapologetically stands her ground on the things she believes in. Lukas is a cannonball of a personality who loves the ice and playing hockey as much as his cousin Enkka. And the youngest of the Porkos, Jakob (aka “Jaska”) grows up to enjoy the softer things in life - reading, baking, knitting, and cuddling on a lazy day. Even through his busy schedule, he makes time to make memories with each of them in a way that matters to them - jamming out with Sohvi, skating with Lukas, and reading bedtime stories to Jaska. They all take his punk attitude, the very thing that many people used to discount his abilities to raise one child, let alone three. His family is perfect, and he realizes now that he had nothing to fear when he held his daughter for the first time.

Joel had never given the thought of a family of his own much consideration. He was too busy being a rock star and conquering the world, and he was afraid of what the change after having a kid would look like for him. He wanted to be happy for Joonas when he told the group in Rotterdam that he was going to be a dad, but he was afraid of losing his best friend to an uncertain future. He grew to love his niece, after some time and a little bit of effort on his part, but he still thought they just weren’t for him.

When he went out on a blind date with Emilia Peltonen months later, he wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere from there. But she gave him a second chance, and a third, and so on, until they were finally living together. Milli finally asked him what he thought of the idea of having kids, and he thought he needed “some time” to think on it. It took him all of about 12 hours to make up his mind, but they waited almost a full year before they were finally successful. In that time, he asked her to marry him, regardless of whether a baby would even come along. Still, he had his doubts about his own abilities to give his son a happy life - he was impatient and snappy, his mental health would fall apart some days, he was never the most affectionate person. And yet, none of that matters to little Viktor; Joel is his idol and, in his mind, he’s the coolest guy on Earth and he wants to be just like him someday. He teaches Enkka to skate and fosters his love for hockey and music. When Enkka needs a hug, either when he’s sleepy or he just woke up from a bad dream, he knows his dad will be there to catch him. So many people love to see that he went from being a dark edgelord online with a pessimistic sense of humor, to being the best dad and husband of their group whose public presence is covered with the signs of his pride in his family. Joel’s transformation surprised so many people, but the change was a welcome sight.

(TW: mention of miscarriage)

Niko wanted to be a dad from the beginning. When he dated Jenna in high school, the hopeless romantic in him dreamed of their little family and the future they would build together. He was devastated when they went their separate ways, thanks to their very different paths in life. He gave up on his dream of their little ones, until they crossed paths again. He knew he would be a fool to give up his second chance. He was overjoyed to learn that Jenna was pregnant with their first child; unlike the first two dads, he had no fears in the back of his mind that he would be a good one. As soon as he stepped into his house, he turned off the rock star Niko the world sees, and became Leevi’s dad and Jenna’s husband with every ounce of his being.

They made a promise to each other: when Leevi says his first word, it’s time for baby number two. Blissfully unaware of his parents’ plan to give him a sibling, Leevi watched Rommi walk by and blurted out his first word: kissa! Within two months, they were expecting their daughter to round out their little family. Lahja Rose was born the next February, two weeks past her original due date. Her father was a little heartbroken - she was supposed to be born on his birthday, hence the name Lahja (“gift”). But he was happy to finally have his little Rose to pay tribute to his favorite film (even if people made their fair share of jokes about it). They hit their first real snag as a family when, between 6 and 11 months, Lahja lived with on/off inner ear infections. Her parents did everything they could to help relieve her pain, eventually opting for surgery to fix it. Niko was a wreck for the full five months, refusing to leave his family’s side and being more than willing to fight anyone who disrespected his decision to have privacy with his family. Niko helped Jenna through the painful process of losing what would have been their third child. They mourned, they healed, and they decided that they were at peace just having their two.

Olli wanted to be a dad, but he was terrified when he learned he had two on the way. Kaarina wanted to laugh at his adorkable response to the news - “count them again” - but she knew his fears were valid. She’d known this man since they were children, and his response to the news was typical of him as an anxious mess under his cool and seemingly collected personality. Her fears were the same; after all, she had no idea what changes were to come for her health. But both girls had a hold on his heart long before they were even born. Olli was willing to do anything to make Riina and the twins feel comfortable until their arrival a week before Christmas. The moment Elina was placed in his arms and he saw the way Elisabet fit in Riina’s, he wondered where those fears even belonged now.

Well... just a little more than three months later, when he was convinced he’d gotten his wife pregnant again, Olli was rightfully scared shitless. He loved his girls, but he couldn’t have three kids before the first two even celebrated their first birthday. Having narrowly dodged that nightmare, he took all the next steps to ensure that it never happened again. He was happy with his two, and so was Riina. The Matelas spend their summers at their beach home, the twins developing as much of a love for the ocean as him. They wear the best coordinated outfits - but not matching though, Olli and Riina want them to maintain their own personality outside of being twins. He’s more than happy to let them put a tiara on him and invite him to their “garden tea party” in their shared room. It was tough at first, but he soon became a master of carrying one in each arm while they felt tall and safe with him. But he can be a bit strict with them sometimes; he loves them, but he doesn’t want them to follow in his footsteps as a rock star. He knows it can be difficult and fun, but he doesn’t want his daughters to fall victim to the lifestyle. And yet, Elisabet was determined to forge her own path in music, while Elina took to the ice like Lukas and Enkka as a figure skater. There was no use in trying to stifle their dreams. Olli’s proud of his girls, and he’s always wanted them to be happy.

Tommi’s family came pre-started. He was introduced to Marja Oksanen, a single mom to a young son who escaped a dangerous relationship with the father of her child. She was afraid that learning about her son would drive him away, that he wouldn’t bother with a single mom if she couldn’t put their relationship first. But Tommi loved this woman already, and someday he was sure he would love her son. He had his reasons to be wary around the boy since he’d never had a father figure in his life (outside of his Uncle Niko for the year or so that Marja and Miikka lived with him and Jenna). He let Miikka accept him first, and he waited for his cue before he grew into his role as his step-dad.

He readily agreed when Marja asked him if he wanted a baby with her (or “another cub” to fit the bear theme they adopted for their family). Tommi would have been happy to have several cubs with her. But when her pregnancy with Anna left her on constant bed rest and their daughter was born a month earlier than she should have, he couldn’t put her through that stress again. Marja’s health mattered more than the thought of a large family. Besides, he was more than happy with “Baby Bear” (Miikka) and “Cub” (Anna), because despite the fact that Miikka was not his son by birth, he was his son by love. And he was willing to defend that from anyone who dares to insult their family dynamic. Tommi is a master of being a dad; his energy calms both kids down when they’re stressed or in need of some love and understanding. It’s not an uncommon sight to see him with one on either side of him as the three of them relax in his recliner. So many people know Tommi as a man with a tough exterior, who doesn’t let his emotions show, doesn’t talk much, and doesn’t garner much attention in a room. But Tommi with his children is a different person altogether. He shares a side of him that belongs to his family.

As the last to become a dad, Aleksi had a wealth of experience to rely on when he needed help with his son. He made the difficult decision to voluntarily become a single dad when his ex-girlfriend Laila expressed zero desire to become a mother. He endured so much stress and heartache in the process, from Laila dragging him in the media over his decision to announce the pregnancy to being banned from Noah’s birth altogether. He first laid eyes on Noah when he was just under an hour old, having only been held by the nurses who prepared him to meet his father. He spared no expense in spending two nights in the hospital with him in a suite, even when Laila had long checked out and left without saying goodbye to either of them.

He felt a twinge of shame when he accepted help from Joonas in taking care of his son. He wanted to do it by himself and prove that he could be a good dad alone. But having a village of friends behind him helped ease him into everything that fatherhood would throw at him. When Noah is diagnosed on the autism spectrum when he’s three, Aleksi immediately learns everything he can to understand his son better. He becomes his biggest defender when people try to push him out of his comfort zone, telling him that they can respect his decision to wear his noise-cancelling headphones when he needs them or they can leave both of them alone. He learns sign language to communicate with Noah whenever he goes mute and he shows solidarity when Noah stims in public. He stays out of the dating scene for years to stop a revolving door of strangers from coming around his son who is shy around new people and lives with separation anxiety from losing his mother at a young age. But Hanna Laaksonen was the perfect exception, as a child psychologist with a Master’s degree in early childhood development. The rest of his friends watched as Aleksi fell in love with her and as Noah began to call her Mom. Still, Aleksi always put Noah first, the same as he always had, and Hanna respected that fact.

#blind channel #dad!blind channel #dad!joonas #dad!joel #dad!niko #dad!olli #dad!tommi #dad!aleksi #yes i hacked this all out in one sitting #yes it's 11 pm and i should go to sleep

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ailuronymy · 4 years ago

Note

I doubt you'll remember this, because it happened such a long time ago, but it's been bothering me for years now and I wanted to get some closure on it. Many years ago, when I was 14, pretty new to roleplaying and completely new to Tumblr, I sent you an anonymous ask laughing about ridiculous unrealistic things that people were having their cats do in a roleplay I was in. Building blanket forts, among other things, and being transgender. At this point in my life I thought transgender only meant someone who had undergone gender affirmation surgery, and the idea of cats doing surgery on one another was hilarious to me. I shared it with the hope that other people would find it hilarious too. Instead, you told me that I had said The Wrong Thing and called me a bigot. I was confused, I was horrified, I didn't understand at all, and I more or less fled from tumblr for about two years. It was a formative experience for me.

Hello there. I do actually remember that post, although obviously since you were anon then as well, I didn’t remember you specifically. But I do remember.

I thought about how to answer this ask for a few days. I’m not sure exactly what it is you’re looking for from me, but I’m going to give you the best reply I can and I hope that’s good enough for the both of us.

When you wrote in to me, about eight years ago, I was younger than you are now. I was nineteen and I’d only been on tumblr for a bit over a year at that point, I think. I’d never had social media before, of any kind. It was all pretty new to me as an experience too, and I’d never expected this blog to get the attention that it did. I never even imagined that was a possibility. But it happened and I learned how to run a relatively popular ask blog on the job, as it were.

There’s a lot I regret when I look back on that early era of this blog. The humour and jokes I allowed and sometimes encouraged and said myself here was often not kind, and that’s something I really regret. Eventually, I put an end to that because it just wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted any of us who have fun here to be doing. But I absolutely allowed it to happen for a long time first, and that’s on me.

Also at that same time, there was a particular way of interacting on tumblr that was very popular. It was a lot of exuberance and hyperbole and insults, and being rude for fun, and overall very over-the-top and often harsh or just plain uncaring that there was someone else at the other end of the message. For everyone who was here in 2012, I think you can probably remember what it was like. It wasn’t a nice mode of communication, but it was popular and got great responses and a lot of people found it fun to read. For a couple of years after I started Ailuronymy, I was absolutely guilty of buying into it and acting this way, until I finally hated it enough to stop. It wasn’t who I wanted to be, in general or on this blog specifically. It felt mean and inauthentic and I wanted to be better. But I did act like that for a long time, and that was a choice I made.

I’m not saying any of this because I want to make excuses for myself. I’m more aware than anyone else of the problems early on in this blog’s history, and it’s something I regret and wish I could go back to do differently with the knowledge and experience I have now. Unfortunately, I can’t change the past. I can only own up to it and do better going forward.

I’m sorry for the tone I often used, including to you in that post, and I’m sorry that because of that behaviour, you felt scared and unwelcome here. That’s a failure on my part. I shouldn’t have used the tone I did, or assumed I had to take a defensive, intense stance the way I did. It’s very sad to me to know that because I did that, you were frightened and decided to leave.

However, I would like to share my context too. Because at the time, I was nineteen years old (which I know probably sounds ancient to younger teens, but it’s not, really), and a bisexual guy (which I still am, obviously), and Ailuronymy was already a place that people (especially queer people) in the fandom were looking to for support and education. Insofar as this blog was developing a niche, that was it. I felt a significant amount of responsibility to champion and defend the people this blog was made for.

2012 was also a time when the Warriors fandom on tumblr was genuinely very homophobic, and also quite volatile. It was common for people to be very angry (in general, and often at me) for saying that ableism isn’t okay, or that Warriors characters can be trans, or sometimes just “canon naming doesn’t make much sense.” I got quite a lot of hate mail--also sometimes just... confused, angry mail, for this naming system or any of the political things I talked about--and I was doing the best I could with what I had to give. A lot of what I learned during my years of running this blog came from making mistakes, but I always did my best.

The reason I’m bringing this up is because what you actually said was: “these cats can be homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender--don’t even ask me how that’s possible. I don’t want to know.” You came to me, a queer man, running a blog that in no small part is about how queerness is allowed to exist in this fandom and is in fact not implausible, during a time when the fandom as a whole was solidly anti-queer, with something like that. Like you said, you shared it with me--and the readers here--because you hoped we would find it hilarious and unrealistic too.

But I didn’t, because, to me, that’s just what a lot of the fandom already was. It was a hostile environment that regularly argued that queer characters, or people, had no place here. That was the kind of things people on anon fairly often came to yell in my inbox about how I’m wrong, etc. etc., and how I’m bad, etc. etc.

I reacted defensively, which I wouldn’t do now, because I’m much older, and I have experience and confidence I just didn’t then. At the time, though, what I heard in your ask was “queer characters are absurd and don’t belong here, don’t correct me,” and that is what I reacted to. I’m sure for you, it felt scary and disproportionate, and as I said before, I wish I had handled things differently, and gentler.

But I don’t disagree with what I said. The points I made weren’t wrong. And my response--although not how I would respond now--was not wrong, even though it hurt you. It genuinely is horrible to know that because of my lack of tact, you were scared. It was also horrible to receive your ask at the time, just like many of the rest. It wasn’t hypothetical to me, because I’m queer. It was about me, and other people I care about very much.

The fact I’m queer is probably news to you, and you were new tumblr and probably didn’t know what was going on in the fandom, and maybe you would have said something different if you knew all this.

Likewise, though, you were on anon and I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know you were fourteen. I didn’t know you were asking in good faith, and not just another one of the homophobic fans thinking you’d found a friend in me, which frankly felt a bit insulting. I didn’t know you were and, again, although I wish I did more back then and was kinder in my approach, I didn’t have insight into your intentions. I also didn’t have the maturity for that not to matter.

That said, even in my very imperfect answer I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I specifically said:

“Before you think I’m victimising you - I’m not. This is not personal right now; currently, this is a mistake on your part, and I understand that mistakes are incredibly easy to make. If, by the end of my post, you get where you went wrong here, then it will be like this ask of yours never happened and I will forget you ever said it. I don’t like to hold any kind of grudge if there’s any way to avoid it, and an acknowledgement of where you went wrong here would completely fix everything about this.”

“So what you’re saying when you say that you don’t believe that “homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender” cats are possible in the context of Warriors is, basically, that you’re a bigot. I am really sorry to say that, because the chances are - I sincerely hope - that you aren’t. You’re a good person. You’re a good person who said something bigoted by mistake. And if you don’t believe what you’ve said is a mistake yet, let me show you some interesting true facts about our world.“

Because I know how easy it is to make mistakes and how hard it is to get everything right all the time, and know everything, and never do something dumb or hurtful. It’s easy to fuck up. I’ve done it a lot. The answer I gave you back then is just one example.

That what you took from my answer was only fear and confusion isn’t something in my control, however. I hate that that’s what happened, and I regret not being who I am now back then, but even though I did fuck up back then, I still did what I could at the time to mitigate the damage and reassure you that a mistake doesn’t define you. I am sorry it wasn’t enough for you to feel okay coming back. But I can’t say I’m sorry for telling you that coming to me on my blog with that kind of mentality is something I’ll tolerate at all.

Ultimately, I’m sorry that our experience of each other was not a good one. I’m sorry that your memory of me is someone scary and mean, and that you felt you had to leave this site entirely for two years because of it. I regret that my actions left you with such a negative experience, because that was never my intention, even though the way I handled things with you was very poor.

I hope you’re able to find the closure you’re looking for and I genuinely wish you all the best.

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lillotte17 · 4 years ago

Text

Tomorrow

Got hooked watching Word of Honor and Zhou Zishu's Sad Face Journeys in episodes 33-34 came for my life, so I wrote a little scene set after the whole Heroes Conference Thing. ...And then Wen KeXing showed up and just...*gestures vaguely* I don't know what happened here. XD

Zhou Zishu sits quietly beside the bed, watching Wen KeXing's sleeping face with an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with his failing body, and everything to do with the fact that he is about to die.

When his shidi had made a miraculous reappearance at the Heroes Conference, his first reaction was gut-wrenching surprise. It felt as though the ground had suddenly dissolved beneath his feet. His heart leaping so high in his throat that he forgot how to breathe. Dizzy with the overwhelming rush of joy and confusion. Uncertain whether to laugh or cry.

But once the shock had subsided, the anger had been hot on its heels. And he wanted to be mad about it. Wanted to take Wen KeXing by the shoulders and shake him so hard that his teeth rattled around in his skull. Wanted to scream and sob and rail against the now inevitably fast-burning candle of his fate. At the unfairness of losing his life just as he had found something worth living for again. Someoneworth living for. For a few moments, the fury had burned so brightly in him he thought it might be enough to kill him then and there. That the fire between his lungs would simply burst his chest open and engulf everything around them in a sea of red.

But when they had caught each other’s gaze, he had seen the apology roiling in Wen KeXing’s dark eyes, raw and miserable, even without a word being said. The apology, and the fear. That same fear Zishu had seen flicker across his face every time he had tried to coax him into confessing that he was from Ghost Valley. The same fear he had seen in him the night Wen KeXing had snuck out of the Four Seasons Manor to intercept Ye BaiYi and tried to prevent him from reveling his identity. And yet again, when Han Ying had died, and he had nearly killed himself in a blind panic trying to fix it somehow. The fear whispered that death was preferable to his hatred. That his blade would be kinder than his revulsion. That Wen KeXing would sacrifice anything to avoid being abandoned once again.

Zhou Zishu was helpless in the face of it; as he always seems to be. The look that passed between them had been fast and fleeting, there and gone again with barely a blink, but it was enough to douse the flames of his anger with a tide of chilling and fathomless grief. The rest of the Heroes Conference passed before him in a daze. Vengeance, and justice, and pride. Wen KeXing blazing in the brightest and truest version of himself for all to see. Dazzling and mesmerizing and impossible to look away from. He does not know if he has ever loved him more, even as he felt his heart slowly sinking down into the pit of his stomach. The numbness of acceptance settling into his bones.

There will be no escape from death, this time.

He had been quiet on the way back to Jing BeiYuan’s Manor. Quiet enough to worry both Wen KeXing and ChengLing, who always seems to see more than he understands. He had listened to their reasons and excuses, and he had done his best to reassure them afterwards, but his own words sound hollow in his ears. The best he could do was to get Lao Wen hopelessly drunk, and pray that it made him less intuitive. The suffusion of elation and hope in the air had nearly been enough to choke him, though. He did not want to rob them of it, but he found he could take part in it either, no matter how much he wanted to. He could not bring himself to celebrate a future he can no longer share with them.

Zhou Zishu understands Wen KeXing. He understands that he is just as abysmal at properly conveying affection as he is himself, if not more so. The man only knows how to protect people he cares for by either sending them away from him or drowning them both in blood. It is how he had managed to survive all those years surrounded by madness and chaos and death. Zishu had done much the same, while he was working in the capital. Hiding all of their softer places far away from where the light could reach them. Playful banter has always passed easily between them, but tenderness is heavier, and vulnerabilities almost impossible to speak aloud. They are both trying to do better, struggling to pull their own humanity back into their hands where it can be shared freely, but Wen KeXing’s hurts are older and deeper. His path back to the world of the living inevitably more winding and complex. He still has not mastered the art of articulating his fears and concerns.

Zhou Zishu’s health was tenuous even before he had been kidnapped and tortured. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been in no fit state to fight an angry mob. Wen KeXing hid the truth from him because he knew that he would chafe at being told to stay out of harm’s way; that they would have argued about it until he was either allowed to participate in the scheme or he was spitting blood and passing out on the floor. Zishu cannot even say that this assessment of his character was a bad one, but it still stung to be kept in the dark, and the hurt was lingering. And yet, however deep the barb of this secret may have landed, however misplaced the caution may or may not have been, he knows without a shred of doubt that Wen KeXing’s deception was born of love, and he can hardly hold that against him.

Especially not now.

Wen KeXing turns his head slightly, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like an extremely slurred version of his name. His expression is smooth and peaceful, his hair a dark fan across the bed behind him. The rosy glow of happiness and alcohol still pinking the apples of his cheeks.

Zishu smiles despite himself. It is much easier to find traces of the little boy his master had planned to take for his second disciple when he looks like this; safe and sleeping and completely at ease for the first time in who knows how long. He wishes he could recall those few precious days they had spent together as children with more clarity, but the memory of it is like a silk brocade left to sit too long in the sunshine, its delicate patterns fading as the colors wash away in a flood of light. Zhou Zishu had been too young to fully comprehend the weight of death when his master had returned from his trip to collect the Wen family without his shidi or his parents in tow. That his master had been sad about it was enough to impact him, but in the grand scheme of things, the wounds to his own heart had been minimal.

What would have happened if they had kept looking for Zhen Yan, he wonders. If he and Wen KeXing had grown up together as best friends and martial brothers and soulmates? Would their master have found a way to soothe Zhen Yan’s rage before it consumed him? Would Zhou Zishu have made the same mistakes with the Window of Heaven if Wen KeXing had been at his side? Perhaps they could have saved each other before things had reached the place they were now. Or perhaps Wen KeXing would have died under Zhou Zishu’s leadership with the rest of their sect, and his failures would have tasted that much more bitter.

He sighs quietly. There is no sense dwelling on things he cannot change. He had been a child, and just as powerless to save Wen KeXing from his fate as the boy himself had been. Feeling guilty about it was meaningless at this point. It was enough to have him here and now. Enough that they had had any time together at all. Enough that Wen KeXing had fallen off of that cliff and somehow still managed to walk back to him.

It has to be enough, because it is all they have. All they can have. Even if he wants more.

“Ah Xu?”

The voice is thick with sleep, but marginally less inebriated than before.

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu hums in acknowledgement, his gaze shifting slightly to watch Wen KeXing blink himself back into wakefulness.

“You didn’t go to bed?” he asks, bleary and swaying slightly as he attempts to sit up.

“There is someone in my bed.” Zishu points out archly.

Wen KeXing looks murderous for a few seconds until he realizes that the person in question is, in fact, himself. When the clouds break, his expression immediately shifts to one of insufferable satisfaction. He leans precariously off the side of the bed, robes and hair both hopelessly askew.

“I am always willing to share everything I have with Ah Xu,” he declares with feigned sweetness.

“How kind of Philanthropist Wen to make a present of what he stole from me,” Zhou Zishu snorts, “Your generosity knows no bounds.”

“Ah Xu!” Wen KeXing objects. “How is it stealing when you gave it to me freely? You think I would come to your bedroom with the intention of sleeping?”

“I’m sure I don’t know anything about your intentions.” The reply is given with a smirk, but his eyes dart away from him. “You asked me to drink with you, but the jar you brought was empty. Besides, I am thinking about giving it up. I have been told that it is bad for my health.”

“Aiya, first Ah Xu accuses me of being a thief, and now he tells me such scandalous falsehoods!” Wen KeXing shakes his head, attempting to seem wounded despite the grin on his face. “I already accepted your punishment earlier, there is no reason to be cruel.”

“Who is a liar here?” Zhou Zishu inquires laughingly, gesturing back and forth between them. “Which one of us is the most scandalous?”

“It’s me, it’s me,” Wen KeXing acknowledges, his head bobbing up and down in agreement, “But Ah Xu, you cannot expect me to ever believe that you would willingly give up drinking good wine with me? And as for not understanding my intentions, well…I believe that even less.”

“Was your intention to make sure I could not get any sleep?”

Wen KeXing only smiles at him widely.

“…I regret asking such a question,” Zhou Zishu chuckles, reaching out to lightly slap the side of Wen KeXing’s face in both fondness and chastisement. “Ask a shameless man a question and you are sure to get a shameless reply.”

Wen KeXing grabs hold of his hand before he can pull it away, leaning into it with a sigh.

“What is so shameless about it at this point?” he wonders, something soft and shining igniting within his gaze. “Living together. Dying together. Watching as our hair turns gray with old age. We’ve already promised to share these things, haven’t we? Why give me your bed when we could share that, too?”

Zhou Zishu takes a long look at him. At the dark hair spilling across his shoulder in disarray. The front of his robes just rumpled enough to expose the elegant line of his throat as well as part of his collar bones. The flush of his cheeks and the promise burning in his eyes.

He cannot deny that he wants it. Even knowing it might make things more painful later on. He wants to be selfish. He wants to be greedy while he still can. While he can still hear Lao Wen calling for him and feel his skin beneath his hands. His sense of taste and smell have gone already, but can still see him, and that could be enough. More than enough.

But will it be enough for Wen KeXing?

This is the last thing they have to give each other. The last pieces of themselves they have been holding back. Mostly because there simply had not been time for it amidst the chaos swirling around them. It always seemed as though either their lives were in danger or one of them was injured. Up until now, even Zishu had been optimistic enough to assume they would have time for it later, though. Time to use physical intimacy as an almost second meeting. To learn how they need each other in the quiet and the dark. To learn the ways they can be gentle, and the ways they can be fierce. To burn each other up in desperation and desire.

It seems too heartless to have it be a farewell instead.

Zhou Zishu lets out a long breath.

“…Not when you are drunk,” he says quietly.

Wen KeXing blinks at him in astonishment, eyes blown wide and round as saucers, clearly expecting a flat-out rejection.

A moment later, the blankets have been hastily flung aside, and he is staggering off of the bed has fast as he can. Which, as it turns out, is not very fast at all. Zhou Zishu easily catches him with one arm, lightly pushing him back into a seated position.

“Lao Wen, where do you think you are going?” he laughs.

“I need to sober up,” Wen KeXing explains, looking so serious about it that Zhou Zishu cannot help but reach out and pinch his cheek. Lao Wen slaps his hand away, his expression mulish.

“Don’t pout,” Zishu scolds, still chuckling, “It is too late to be staggering around someone else’s house. With my luck, you would drown yourself in the fish pond, and then BeiYuan and Wu Xi would be terribly put out.”

“But Ah Xu, if you won’t let me leave, and you won’t share the bed, just what do you want me to do?” Lao Wen complains. “Even if you don’t want to have sex, you should at least lay down and rest properly. I want you to get well as soon as possible.”

Zhou Zishu’s mouth stiffens slightly.

“I know.”

Wen KeXing’s brow furrows in concern. He reaches out a hand, long fingers hovering just above his heart, when Zhou Zishu catches them tightly in his own. He is not certain if Lao Wen could glean the truth about his condition from his pulse while still tipsy, but he is not about to run that risk tonight.

“Are the nails bothering you again?” Wen KeXing asks, doleful this time.

“No.”

It is not a lie.

“Then come to bed,” Lao Wen cajoles, using their joined hands to tug him closer, “I promise not to molest you unless you ask me to.”

Zhou Zishu makes a sound of grumbling disbelief, but still allows himself to be pulled down next to Wen KeXing. The bed is big enough for two, but only just. Lao Wen retrieves the formerly discarded blankets from whatever corner he had toss them and bundles them up together like two caterpillars in a single cocoon. His face is close beside him on the pillow, warm breath fanning the side of his neck. An arm drapes loosely about Zishu’s waist, and he turns his head slightly, intending to shoot a warning glare in the other man’s direction.

This is a mistake.

Wen KeXing’s eyes are dark and intense in the moonlight, half closed with either sleep or desire, it is hard to say. His lips part slightly as Zhou Zishu turns to him, and the hand draped around his waist clutches faintly at his robes as if on instinct. Both of them seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

“…Ah Xu, you can kiss me, if you like,” Lao Wen whispers finally, so soft it almost seems like a dream.

“What makes you think I want to kiss you?” he means it to sound teasing, but it comes out in almost a sigh.

“Because I want to kiss you,” Lao Wen replies matter-of-factly.

“I never thought of you as a pillar of self-restraint,” Zhou Zishu huffs.

“I promised to be a gentleman.”

Zishu closes his eyes and lets out a deep, soul-rattling sigh. He is almost glad he cannot smell the oils Wen KeXing uses in his hair or the trace of alcohol on his lips. The proximity is staggering enough all on its own.

“…It would not stop with a kiss,” he admits aloud to both of them.

He does not open his eyes again, but he can feel Wen KeXing’s body tremble slightly as he laughs, and that is almost as bad.

“Ah Xu, I would hardly complain,” he replies, testing his luck by shifting close enough so that their foreheads are lightly touching. “But you want to rest, and I want you rested, so it is no great loss, either way. You will still be here with me tomorrow, after all. There is no need to rush these things. Sometimes, a slow spring is sweeter.”

“Yes,” Zhou Zishu manages to reply around the lump lodged in his throat, “I will still be here tomorrow.”

#Word of Honor #Wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #fic #this was supposed to be all angsty #but they are SO EFFING FUNNY #it's so fun writing their banter #askdjghasdfgk #i am sorry #i have no idea what emotions this actually conveys at this point #i just work here

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apiratewhopines · 3 years ago

Text

Look at the mesmerizing artwork by @teamhook. Can you spot the villain of this little story?

In the Offing

Chapter 18 — The Stable Boy

Summary: In which our heroine misplaces something

Chapter 18 on AO3

“A guilty conscience means at least you’ve got one

Who will forgive you when I’m gone?”

-Here He Comes, The Wallflowers

“That went further than I intended,” Killian whispered against her throat. She could feel his smile against the sensitive skin and knew that while his words sounded like the beginning of an apology, it was really more of an observation on their current status. Their completely unclothed, totally sated status.

“Hmm, there is something about the motion of the water,” Emma said by way of agreement. She was lazily running her fingers through his mussed hair, appreciating the way the thick, short locks felt silky in her hands. His laughter rumbled through his chest and she gave in to the temptation to run her fingers through the hair there as well.

“I’ll make a pirate out of you yet, Swan.”

“Well, I need to do something special for a man who would trade a secluded afternoon with the most famous actress in the world to spend time with his unknown, magnet-for-trouble house guest.”

She should get up. Lord only knew if there were locks on the door or if they could be interrupted. However, she wasn’t lying about the sensation of being lulled to sleep by the waves. Although sleep was the furthest thing from her mind a few minutes ago.

“House guest? Is that the label we’re going with? How about girlfriend? Lover? Angel? Magnificent creature?” He punctuated each question with a nuzzle against a different section of exposed flesh. “Besides, I am a seafaring man and all sailors know that it’s bad luck to have a redhead on board. Thank goodness I didn’t have to take her out on the open seas. You may never have seen me again.”

“That would have been a shame. I do enjoy seeing you. The more of you, the better.” She allowed her hands to wander over the expanse of skin on display, thankful that the afternoon was warm since there was only one sheet and their picnic blanket from the other day to cover up with. Her eyes had drifted closed during their idle exchange but she cracked open her left to look at him as she felt the bed shift under his movements. He had propped himself up on his elbow and was resting on his side. She was surprised to see his expression had turned serious. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we talk. I like the odds of you staying put since you’re naked,” he added with some of his usual swagger.

“If you’re ready,” she told him. Reaching up to cradle his face in her hands, she knew that nothing he said would make any difference to her. She was too far gone already. The only possible outcome was she would fall deeper under his spell. “No matter what, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know what those words mean to me, love.” He pressed a forceful kiss to her lips and returned to his earlier position. His eyes focused out the window and glazed over as he became lost in his memories. When he spoke, his voice had deepened with emotion. “Liam and I moved here a decade ago with one purpose and one purpose only: To find Frederick’s bloody treasure trove. There was nothing for us in England, hadn’t been in years really. I was graduating and Liam was finishing up his enlistment with the Navy. To my surprise, he didn’t doubt for a moment my claims that I could find our fortune on the rocky beaches of Maine. So off we went without a backward glance at the shores of our ancestors.”

She could imagine a younger Killian, full of life and confidence, pulling along his older, more seasoned brother. After all, no one was more jaded than her and she was already prepared to follow him to the ends of the earth.

“It took us more time to find the pub in Storybrooke than it did to find the first treasure hoard. Oh, Emma, I wish you could have been there.” His grin was something that belonged on a schoolboy’s face, not a man in his mid-thirties. Unable to help herself, she reached up and traced it with her fingertips. He captured her wayward digits and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the tips. “Most pirate treasure was in the form of goods like timber, cotton, sugar, or tobacco. But good old Frederick didn’t disappoint. There was enough silver to make us wealthy even by today’s standards. There were some interesting historical bits as well that will one day find their way into a museum but I won’t bore you with those details.”

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured with a chuckle. “What did you do with it? Aren’t you supposed to alert the authorities when you find stuff like that?”

“I want to be a better man for you, Swan, but I will never be a saint. We haven’t disclosed any of our findings. We simply dip in when we need something extra. Some day we’ll let it see the light of day but for now it rests in Davy Jones’ locker.”

“Wait, I know that one. You mean it’s hidden under the sea?”

“No, we put it in my grandfather’s old locker and buried it under the cottage. It’s the only thing my father left behind when he abandoned us all those years ago.” When she rolled her eyes at him, he simply chuckled. “But to answer your question, the laws vary by state and country. Maine is actually quite lenient with their buried treasure as long as it isn’t found on state property. Luckily, two of the piles we found were on my land at the cottage. Technically, I didn’t own the land when I found the first one but it was under contract. I quickly remedied that and it was all above board when I found the second stash a few days later. That one had more coins and a few loose gemstones.”

“Gemstones?” Visions of The Goonies filled Emma’s mind and she had to stop herself from asking about One-Eyed Willy. Because, as fantastical as it seemed, the man who held her heart in his hands also had a knack for finding buried treasure. A gift she hoped he would survive considering someone out there desperately wanted to get their hands on it.

“Yes, darling,” he answered. “I think several have your name on them.”

“No way,” she argued. “I don’t want any of it. What if it’s cursed?”

“Cursed, you say?” He looked thoughtful as the sunlight was momentarily blocked by an errant storm cloud outside. “Yes, I suppose that may be true. Shortly after I uncovered the third pile, I went to the Rabbit Hole to celebrate my victory. Liam had just met Elsa so I was on my own for the most part those days. Not that it mattered, you know how this town takes to new people so I never lacked companionship for a drink or...whatever.”

“Whatever, indeed,” Emma teased in her best impression of his accent. She sensed he was coming to the part of his story that was the most difficult to relay and tried to infuse some humor into the conversation.

With a rueful grin that acknowledged her effort, both with the accent and the humor, he continued. “I met Milah that night. She was a sight to behold in the dim light of the bar, vibrant in a way that seemed too much for this little town.” He narrowed his eyes as they made contact with hers. “I didn’t know at first that she was married. Lads of twenty-four aren’t known for pumping the brakes when a beautiful woman gives them nothing but green lights and I was no different. Honestly, I was probably worse. I was a rash young man far from home and high on my own cleverness. It never occurred to me to question my good fortune or wonder why no one else was vying for her attention.”

“How far gone were you when you found out the truth?”

“Completely,” he confessed with a shaky breath. “The fight we had when I found out, well, it would have melted paint off the walls. I was a dirty little secret, the younger man who captured her attention but not her affections. It was always like that with her. She was so restless. Always moving, always searching. Nothing was ever enough. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t enough either. She wanted someone to rescue her from a life of boredom, someone who would carry her away and show her the world and fill her days with adventures. I couldn’t be that for her but I nearly destroyed myself trying to be.”

He was lost in the past, his eyes distant and filled with pain. Reliving the end of the most meaningful relationship of your life wasn’t easy, Emma definitely understood that. Especially when you gave all you had to it and it still collapsed in pieces around you.

“Her husband came to visit me one night toward the end. Offered me money to break it off,” he scoffed as if the idea still insulted him. “I refused of course, convinced he was the villain in our little drama and that I would win the heart of the fair maiden in the end. At it turned out, I was wrong on both counts. The villain was the fair maiden. Mr. Gold and I were both pawns in her scheme to escape a life she hated. When she had the opportunity, she took the money and ran. In my kinder moments, I feel sorry for her knowing she must have felt trapped. But then I remember the way the whole town thought I killed her and any kindness I’m able to scare up disappears. Just like she did.”

“You’ve never heard from her? You have no idea what happened to her?”

“No. When it ended, it ended badly. She wanted me to take her husband’s money so we could leave town together, was angry when I refused to be chased off into the night. It was then that I realized she didn’t care who she was with, as long as she wasn’t in Storybrooke. It was a tough blow to stomach. I only saw her one time after that, a couple of nights before she disappeared. She showed up at the cottage to apologize. Told me she would never regret our relationship but it was time to move on. She left the map as a parting gift. I knew then that she meant to leave. Make no mistake, Emma, Milah is alive and well somewhere on this globe, living her life to the fullest and not sparing a thought for anyone in this town.”

“Then her absence is no great loss,” she observed.

He shook his head slowly as if he wasn’t sure he agreed with her assessment. “The day after she stopped by for the last time was when I pulled my idiotic stunt. I got drunk and tried to sail directly into a Nor’easter. Liam caught me at the docks and insisted on coming with me when he couldn’t talk me out of leaving. Our boat capsized about a mile up the coast. I’m only glad I was able to pull him to shore.”

“You saved his life? One-handed in a gale?”

With a bitter twist of his lips, he bit out, “Not sure you’ll allowed to claim such a thing when the only reason a person was in danger in the first place is because of you. He was trapped under the broken mast. I’m still not sure how I got him out but I crushed my hand in the process. Got a pretty nasty infection and the doctors told me the hand couldn’t be saved and if I wasn’t lucky, I’d lose the arm too. Seemed like a no-brainer.”

She felt the tension gripping him and trailed her hands down his left arm, running her fingers over the smooth scars she felt there. He didn’t pull away but he didn’t relax either. “We’re all scarred in one way or another, Killian. Yours are a bit more on display than the average person but this shows that you are a survivor. I’m beginning to think it might be a bad idea for me to find Milah. She has a lot to answer for.”

“You know, I’ve tried to track her down but I’m afraid I don’t have your abilities at finding those who don’t wish to be found. I thought I had tracked her to Paris a few years ago, there was a new artist there that had her style of sketching but I could never be sure and they disappeared before I could make contact. I still have a file on my desktop with the various artwork I found in the gallery catalogues. I always thought I’d pick up the search again later.”

A little afraid to hear his answer, she nevertheless asked, “Why do you want to find her?”

“At first, I missed her. I wanted to hear her voice. Pathetic, right?” When Emma simply gave him a look that clearly disagreed, he smiled at her. “Hmm, my secretly romantic Swan. You have a tender heart that I adore but don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know.” He looked at her with such fondness that she was tempted to go for round two right then. However, on some level, she knew this conversation was more important than their physical connection.

Unaware of her thoughts, he admitted, “Lately I’ve wanted closure. Not for the relationship. It’s been dead and gone for years. For the case, in order to clear my name. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not particularly proud of since I arrived here but I would like any doubt removed about this crime.”

“If you don’t mind sharing, perhaps we can find her together,” she offered shyly.

“Emma, everything I have is yours,” Killian told her. With a laugh he added, “Including the gold bars I found in the third treasure hoard I uncovered.” Taking her in his arms, he held her as they laid in the Captain’s Quarters in peaceful silence.

—

The rain that had threatened in the afternoon made good on its promise by the time they arrived back at the cottage with carryout from the pizza place. Fortunately, it was the kind of summer rain that moved through quickly and left the air feeling crisp and clean.

After her third slice of pepperoni, Emma leaned back in the patio chair and sighed. “I’m supposed to meet Graham tonight to search the woods. I guess I should head back to Mary Margaret’s place eventually anyway.”

With a quizzical look, Killian took a sip of his iced tea. “A date with another man and moving out? Have I done something to offend you?”

“Very funny,” she retorted. “I think we’ve gotten things a little out of order but there’s no reason to rush into this.”

“Darling, we have already fallen headfirst into the fast lane. There’s no reason to get scared now. Besides, I happen to know that David and Mary Margaret have reached the toothbrush phase of their relationship. You will be taking your sanity into your own hands if you head back there tonight. David is a loud...sleeper.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that,” Emma said with a shiver of disgust. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to stay with you for the foreseeable future. If you don’t have any other plans, you can also join me on my date. We’re looking for bodies in the woods.”

With a grimace, Killian studied her profile. “Okay but only if I get to plan our next outing. A man likes some mystery in a relationship but dead bodies are a little overboard.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Jones.”

Forewarned about the activities for the evening consisting mainly of traversing hilly, overgrown terrain, Emma did a better job of dressing the part. Outfitted with flashlights from Killian’s emergency kit, she knew if the search lasted beyond the light of the midsummer sun they wouldn’t injure themselves in the dark at least.

Arriving at the Sheriff’s station shortly thereafter, Emma was surprised to find it empty and unlocked. Since another brief summer rain was moving through town, she texted Graham and they decided to wait it out at the station. Twenty minutes later, the rain was over but she still hadn’t heard from the sheriff. “That’s weird. He’s usually better about replying.”

“Text him a lot, do you?”

With a amused shake of her head, she admonished him. “Now is not the time to be jealous, Killian. He’s a friend and, unless I’m mistaken, he’s your friend too.”

“He’s not an enemy,” Killian conceded grudgingly. With a hint of teasing, he said, “But perhaps he is competition.” He moved around the station nonchalantly as if he might find the sheriff under a pile of papers or resting in one of the cells at the back of the open room.

With a deep breath, she walked over to him and linked her arms around his neck. “Not in my eyes. I’m not sure how to convince you that you’ve ruined me for other men.”

“I can think of some persuasive methods that will get your point across.” His roguish eyebrow was cocked in a way that she always found so endearing and sexy. “Why don’t we postpone this search party and you can give it your best shot? I promise to keep an open mind.”

“Keeping an open mind has never been your problem,” she laughed, playfully punching him in the arm. “I have a job to do so stop trying to distract me. We’ll have to go without Graham. We’re losing daylight and I’m running out of time before Henry comes home.”

What she didn’t add was the crossroads his arrival would bring. As much as she had fought against this thing with Killian, now that she was in, she was all in. While the four hour drive to Boston was not an insurmountable distance, she found the idea of being separated distasteful. She knew it was a conversation they needed to have and she wasn’t avoiding it exactly. Her rational mind kept reminding her that they had only met a month ago and people didn’t fall in love and move to different states after a few weeks of knowing someone. Especially single mothers who had children to think about.

Having officially given up on the sheriff, they headed toward the town line. Minutes later, they arrived to find the cruiser already parked on the narrow shoulder, driver side door open and cabin lights on. Jumping out of the truck, Emma exchanged a worried look with Killian and observed, “This looks like trouble.”

He followed her to the cruiser and placed his hand on the front seat. “It’s dry so he probably didn’t get here until after the rain moved through.”

“Graham!” Shouting his name repeatedly probably wasn’t an effective strategy but damn if she could think of anything else to do. Settling in the driver’s seat she found the keys still in the ignition and his walkie on the dashboard. Picking it up, she paged David. Within a minute, he answered, confusion evident in his tone.

“Emma? Why do you have Graham’s walkie?”

“We found his cruiser at the town line. No sign of him. We’re going out to the woods to search but you probably want to get here as quickly as possible. I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole scene.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me.”

True to his word, David’s battered old Ford pick-up pulled behind their truck in record time. Mary Margaret had made the journey with him and as soon as the car was in park, she rushed to Emma’s side. “Still no sign of him?”

“No,” Killian answered with his eyes scanning the thick woods.

“He headed this direction and he was in a hurry,” the brunette observed, her finger pointing toward an invisible trail as if it were obvious. At Emma’s silent question, she explained, “All-State Orienteering champion and the best tracker in town besides Ruby. Knowing your way around the forest is still a skill set that’s valued in Maine.”

“Sure. I mean, why not?” Emma said sarcastically. “Why don’t you lead the way then? We’ve already wasted time waiting around the station.”

Grabbing the flashlight that David handed her, Mary Margaret stepped off the shoulder and moved noiselessly into the woods. She would occasionally murmur an observation regarding a broken twig or boot print in the soft ground. Emma made a point to try to locate whatever signs the other woman noted on their pursuit but was only able to see the tracks occasionally. In no time at all, they had circled back up the hill to come out at the road not even a quarter of a mile from the cruiser. “Great. Back were we started.”

“No,” Mary Margaret disagreed. “Look here.” She squatted down and shined a beam of light on the asphalt.

Sure enough, Emma saw some kind of liquid that had dripped on the road. “What is that? Motor oil?” Reaching down, she lightly pressed her finger in one of the droplets and smeared it against her thumb. Looking at the bright red color, a chill ran through her. “Blood.”

“And tire tracks from an SUV if I had to guess,” David added, his light illuminating the wide tracks partially visible on the wet dirt of the shoulder. “Someone took him.” He immediately started back toward his truck, getting on his radio and calling the other deputy to round up some volunteers and meet them out at the woods.

—

Entering the cottage at four the following morning, Emma dropped on the couch in exhaustion. They hadn’t found any other clues as to the whereabouts of the sheriff or who grabbed him off the deserted road. Had he been followed out to the town line? Is that why he hadn’t responded to her text? Why would he have not reached out to her or David if he thought he was in trouble?

Settling next to her, Killian pushed her hair back behind her ear. “We won’t find him by staying up and worrying. You need to rest.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that this has to do with me.”

“With you? Why do you think so? Didn’t you say he found something in the woods? Something related to a disappearance that happened when you were a baby.”

“I know it’s crazy...”

“I didn’t say that, love. If you think this has something to do with you, I wouldn’t bet against your instincts.” Smiling at her with an expression of full support, he added, “You’ll figure it out. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“He could be out there hurt, Killian, or worse. I think we need to regroup. Go through everything again. I must have missed something. And we’re going to need all hands on deck. The situation is escalating. When are Liam and Elsa supposed to come back?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you should convince him to come back sooner.”

“That will be a pleasant conversation,” Killian muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Perhaps I’ll call Elsa instead. She’s the more reasonable one.”

“Coward,” she whispered against his lips as she kissed him softly. She would never get tired of this, having him within arm’s reach. His very presence made all her worries melt into the background.

“You have more than enough bravery for the both of us,” he complimented her. “But I’ll do as you ask. After all, he’s the one who brought you into this mess. Not that I’m complaining.”

“See that you don’t. I have ways of dealing with complainers,” she ordered tartly, forcing herself to get lost in this moment with him. As she got up to walk away, his fingers hooked into the pocket of her jeans and tugged her back into his lap.

“Saucy. I like that.”

“Behave, Dr. Jones.”

There weren’t any coherent words spoken as the early morning light started to break over the horizon. He had decided to disobey, misbehaving in the most delightful ways.

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skellebonez · 4 years ago

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Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 7

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link!

Summary: We return to the world outside the Calabash and someone regrets their life choices.

Warnings: Mild accidental self inflicted violence, after effects of the smoke from the last chapter.

Author’s note: A bit shorter than I intended since I was unhappy with how the additions to this chapter flowed and I rewrote them entirely, there are no spoilers for the special (I had removed or edited them into something unrelated) but there will be some allusions to it in the coming chapters.

Chapter 7: Real Feeling Illusion

Mei let out a yell of surprise as she felt cold metal settle into her hands, something that should be familiar but felt brand new despite that.

Her eyes snapped open to green, green and more green, every shade surrounding her as she stared into the gazes of her ancestors. The same judgemental gazes that she had already faced once before.

"Wh-what?"

The only thing that answered her were the glowers and whispers of the dragons above her, sneering, chastising, questioning.

“This has already happened... I’ve already done this...”

----------

"Monkey King!?"

Red Son gasped, eyes opening to a sight he wished to never see again.

"Come to take me? Find me?"

His breathing quickened, shaking his head as he took a step back.

"I will not let that simian abomination triumph again!"

This couldn't be happening again, it had to be a trick of the Calabash. Red Son had to believe it was as he watched his father scream over the screens showing MK and his friends coming closer and heard the whispers of the White Bone Spirit on the wind.

----------

"Hey, kid? You paying attention?"

The voice calling him made MK's blood run cold as his eyes snapped open, a far too familiar derelict dojo greeting his vision. And one very familiar, amused, dark furred monkey.

"No..." MK breathed quietly, holding his staff tighter. "No no, this isn't possible. It can't do this can it?"

"What's wrong?" Macaque asked, spinning a training staff in his hand with an easy friendly smile, practiced he now knew. Practiced to trick him, trap him, get what he wants out of him. It went softer, faker, kinder, and it hurt. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

----------

The air within the Bull Family's current abode was tense, Wukong's words weighing it down heavily. No one dared do more than breathe until the Demon Bull King or Princess Iron Fan reacted first.

While Iron Fan's face had fallen into disbelief and some form of concern, DBK's face was nearly unreadable. Eyes closed, arms crossed, the most emotion showing was the faintest furrowing of his brow.

"Darling?" PIF said softly, running her hand down his face in a soft display of affection that felt odd to watch for the group on the ground.

"I will assist you," DBK offered suddenly, turning to his wife with a soft rumble. "What wi-"

"I am helping," she answered instantaneously, features hardening as she turned back toward Wukong and the rest of the group.

"I should have assumed as much," DBK chuckled out, smiling softly for a split second before his features hardened once again. "I know my son, if you cannot find him then he is either hiding himself and his-" he growled deeply, spitting out the next word like poison. "-friends on purpose, which I doubt he could do for long with you searching of all people, or someone has made the mistake of angering the wrong family."

"Unfortunately we have no reason to assume it is anything but the later now," Wukong said, tone noticeably more relaxed but still more even and businesslike than normal. "This is what we know so far..."

Pigsy breathed out a sigh of relief, albeit the smallest possible any living being could manage, as Wukong began to explain to Red Son's parents in great detail exactly what they had done and what they had learned so far. There was something... off about it, however.

DBK was too calm. Almost... solemnly so. Now, normally he wouldn't be surprised if Iron Fan had been around to keep him calm, but she was hardly doing anything but sitting on his shoulder and talking to him in a hushed voice. Pigsy didn't know him all that well but every single time he had interacted with him, and from some stories from Wukong's younger days, he had always had a temper that put Red Son's fiery one to shame.

"Pigsy?" Tang said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before frowning and squeezing it gently. "What's on your mind?"

"Somethin' ain't right here," he said with a shake of his head. "Somethin' really ain't right. Wukong can tell too, look at his tail. It's all puffed up on the back. Those two are hiding somethin' from us.” He turned to Sandy, who silently nodded in agreement.

Tang hummed softly, his grip on the pig demon’s shoulder tightening past gentle reassurance to a grounding firmness. “I trust your judgement, Pigsy. Let’s hope we can trust Wukong’s too, ok?”

Pigsy nodded himself, reaching up to grasp the scholar’s hand in a firm grip as they watched on from the sidelines still, waiting for anything to happen now. They didn’t have to wait too much longer before a gust of wind rushed past them and lifted PIF of her husband’s shoulder, setting her on the ground to the side of the two men.

“I will see what I can do with the equipment Red Son has left behind,” she said firmly, standing tall and looking all the more like a leader to an army than anything else at the moment. “While the Bull Clones will not likely be of any help, he left enough that should at least prove somewhat useful for a more delicate mission.” She frowned for a moment, looking up at her husband. “And... tell them. It might help.”

DBK startled, looking down at his wife with wide eyes. Now that was a look Pigsy had never seen on his face before. “Are you sure?”

“You and I both know that is the sole reason we need to find our son,” she said, frown deepening for just a moment before she wiped all expression from her face and allowed the wind to carry her off deeper into their hideout.

Now everyone was just confused, looking at the hulking demon lord as he scowled and ran a hand down his face. He turned to look at the group, taking them all in before focusing on Wukong again with a growl deep in his throat. “I had hoped we could convince him to return of his own accord and you would not find out about this,” he said with a deeper growl, scowling down at the Monkey King before sighing and seeming to relax ever so slightly. “But now... it has been so long I am doubting that is even possible now.”

“What are you talking about?” Wukong asked with a raised brow, fur bristling more noticeable as he tensed. “We knew you had been trying to get him to come back to your side.”

“Do you know why he left?” DBK continued, scowling even deeper than before. “Did you ever wonder why he chose to go to you?”

“...No,” Wukong admitted after a while, dropping his arms down to his sides. “I wanted to say that yeah we did, and no that doesn’t matter, but he’s never exactly been open about what made him come to Flower Fruit Mountain that day. Why?” He narrowed his gaze, watching the larger demon closely. “Wait... wait, you don’t mean-”

“Oh yes,” DBK said flatly, the sound of his teeth gritting together reverberating through the room and making everyone wince. “Ever since the Lunar New Year festival, Wukong. And it backfired spectacularly.”

----------

“Let!” Thunk. “Me!” Thunk, a cough. “OUT!” Thunk. “AGH!” Crack. “FUCK!”

Jin let out a screech of pain as he felt something in his hand give way, a knuckle or maybe a full finger bone. It didn’t matter either way, in only a few seconds it had fixed itself just as painfully as it had broken and left him with a fully intact hand for the third time.

“You’re one sick fox lady, you know that?” He yelled into the air, scowling even more as he changed tactics to attempting to kick himself out of containment. Trapped in what appeared to be the same little room he had left Yin in when he last saw him.

He may have the appearance of the Monkey King at the moment, and it may have given him access to some of his powers because of that, but physically he knew he was still Jin. The Gold Horned Demon. Not Sun Wukong, The Handsome Monkey King and The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. The Calabash itself knew this, could only go so far in the illusion, and not having breakable bones was apparently outside of the abilities of his and his brother’s device. Though he knew he was not actually being hurt, physically, everything that happened here was an illusion.

A very real feeling illusion. Unlike... unlike what could be happening to Yin...

At the thoughts of his brother in possible peril, Jin sighed, stopping his assault on the door to sit down on the makeshift cot they had been relegated to. He felt his tail (still a new and odd sensation to know he had one that moved of its own accord) drop down beside him, looking as deflated as he felt.

What if Princess Jade Face was hurting Yin? What if she had already hurt him? Was she using the new smoke on him as well or the sleeping smoke? His mind rushed through thought after thought of what she could do to hurt his brother while he wasn’t there to protect him... not that he had been doing a good job of it in the first place, all this being his fault in the first place.

He coughed again, throat aching from the after effects on whatever the new smoke was. His eyes burned and his head swam in lightheaded weightlessness. He wondered if it was supposed to hurt like this or if it was the combination of smokes, wondered if the trio trapped alongside him was feeling this or none or even worse. He wondered if they were safe.

“Safe?” He asked himself with a scowl. “Don’t tell me you’re actually giving a damn about those three outside of surviving yourself, me.”

He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to wonder what that meant. The only people he worried about were his brother first and then himself. And he would get the hell out of here, broken hands or legs or not.

#stuff is going to really pick up next chapter and some actual answers will be revealed #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #sfaut #smoke flasks and unfinished tasks #fanfiction #mk #Qi Xiaotian #mei #Long Xiaojiao #jin #monkey king #sun wukong #pigsy #dbk #pif #dbk and pif #secrets

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glycerine1122 · 3 years ago

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When you are using, you think that you will be able to recognize the point of no return. You think, for example, if it came to choosing between the drugs or your kids, you’d give up the drugs. What you don’t realize is that it is a slow, inevitable escalation into addiction, chaos, and loss. You don’t realize that no one is going to give you the choice to quit drugs or lose your kids. They just take your kids. And you, addict, will never forgive yourself for it.

When all my legal trouble started and I knew I was going to prison, I was out on bond and I remember I met a girl one night at a friend’s who had lost primary custody of her kids to the father. Not for drugs, but for sending him texts threatening to kill herself when they broke up. At least that’s what she said. I don’t even remember her name but at the end of telling me her story, she said, “The most important thing you have to remember right now is everything is going to be okay. Fight as hard as you can but if you lose, it’s okay. I still see my sons, all the time. They love me. we still have a good relationship”. And I remember shaking my head at her and blubbering 'NO' and how that could not happen to me, that COULD NOT happen to me! And she was calm and just said again, “but if it does, it’s okay. I promise, it will be okay.”

Let me give you an example of the conversation that happens almost every time an innocent and probably well meaning acquaintance finds out my kids don’t live with me:

“Wait, so where do your kids live?”

“Oh, so, why don’t they live with you?”

(obviously not wanting to have this conversation)

“Wow, I don’t know how you do that! I could never live without my kids as a mother”

Yes, thank you Bitch for reminding me how much I fucking hate life!

Now, almost every single person I have had this conversation with doesn’t mean to offend me or make me feel bad (I think), it’s just their natural response. Mothers typically don’t just choose to live without there kids.

Most of them, after the first couple of shocked comments and questions, realize there is something more here and stop. Every time I am ashamed and every time I deserve it. Obviously, I try not to tell people if I don’t have to.

Unfortunately, sometimes, fair or not, you don’t get everything back, including your children. Sometimes it’s because you made too many mistakes but most times it’s not that.

I can say that losing my children has made me a stronger, better, and kinder person. Now, trust me, I’m still fucked up and I still fuck up, maybe more, less reasons not to it feels sometimes, but a fuck up is a fuck up all the same. And trust me again, I wish I didn’t do this. I wish that I still had my children living with me. This was my one chance at motherhood, and I fucked it up. I’m the worst mother in the world.

Some how though the consequences for that made me a better person.

I’m less judgmental now. I give people the benefit of the doubt more. I’ve learned to shut up sometimes, and that it’s better to compromise than fight 99% of the time.

I’ve learned how to be alone, how to persevere when I felt there was no hope, and how to gracefully handle the unfair curve balls life throws at you.

I hope some day I can tell my kids how truly sorry I am for what I have done to them, and to myself. They are too young now to really know the truth but one day they will be old enough and I am going to have to admit everything to them. I pray every night that they will forgive me when that time comes.

It would break my heart to tell you our story, but there is no more heart. And my mind is teetering on the verge of total collapse. I can’t even look at anyone anymore. Or really, I can’t handle them looking at me. I’m so ashamed of myself.

1 note · View note

weasleyslag · 4 years ago

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i’m not coming home | p.w

summary: A collection of letters between Percy and his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater following his estrangement from his family.

pairing(s): Percy Weasley/Penelope Clearwater

wc: 6.2k (lol I’m sorry)

warning(s): heavy cursing, hella toxic relationship, no happy ending

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30644294

Dear Percy,

See, I told you I would write! I really am so proud of you and your new job. I hope you’ll allow me to come visit your new apartment soon. I know you’re very busy, but maybe not too busy for me? My dad told me he’d pay for my stay in London if you invited me, but I think it’d be more fun for me to stay with you and go to a show or something. I heard there’s some good muggle performances down there, I’d be interested to see that sort of thing. It’d be an good change, I’m up to my head with wizards that think they’re so talented.

Please tell me all you can about your job when you write back! I know it must be super under wraps, being the Junior Assistant to Fudge himself, but I would be interested in knowing the most mundane of things you can tell me, it would most certainly be more enthralling than the highlight of any of my days. I was hoping I’d be promoted to something more dignified by now, but they’ve still got me watching over some of the Ministry workers’ children. You know I like kids, but I’d rather not be a glorified babysitter. There’s not even many learning activities I can do with them, I’m pretty much instructed to do puppet shows and other silly tasks for them all day. Hopefully someone recognizes my potential soon. Maybe since you work with Fudge now, you can say something to him???

I hate to turn this letter sour but Fred and George have gotten into contact with me this week. They’re really worried about you. They said that they’ve all written to you and the letters are always sent back, unopened. You must know this hurts them, why don’t you at least read the letters? You know they love you and I know that you really are kind at heart; you must still have love for them. I know it must have been hard for you to hear that after all your efforts, your dad doesn’t believe you’re capable of receiving such a prestigious job on your own merits. But of course they are all paranoid, what with all that happened last Spring. I hope you can find it within yourself to be the bigger person and reconcile with your family. Maybe they’ve even apologized in their letters, you’ll never know unless you read them. Don’t read Fred’s though, he’s more mad than the rest of them. I’m sure he’s thrown every name in the book at you.

I hope my next letter will be in better spirits. I hope Hermes is doing well and I hope even more so that you will adjust to life in London well.

With Love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I cannot express with words how excited I was to receive your owl. I hope you don’t mind that I kept her for a few days, Hermes adores her and she reminds me of you. However, I also had to keep her back because it took quite some time to give you an adequate response to everything you said in your letter.

Hermes and I are well. He hasn’t adjusted as well as I have, but I understand. The air is polluted and there’s not much room for him to roam. There’s no forests in sight, only a bunch of buildings. If I wasn’t taking your letters, I would send him back to the Burrow. He was happier there and besides, the ministry has provided me a new owl for business letters.

I, on the other hand, am doing the best I ever have been. I am extremely efficient with my work and I appear to be pleasing my superiors. In my off time, I watch live shows and read. I have been getting into some Muggle classics, like War and Peace. Their culture is quite interesting, although ours is clearly superior. I am glad I am nourishing my mind as much as I can, I only wish there wasn’t so much noise outside my apartment. Jackhammers and traffic is all l I hear all day. It gets old fast. I’m not sure if you would like it here, but I would be happy to have you if you wish to visit. Although, I thought about your proposal to stay with me and I must decline. I would love to and I am sure my hormones would have a field day, but your father wants you to stay somewhere else and merely visit me during the day, trying to trick him would be wrong. I am sorry, but rules are rules, even when it comes to you.

I will speak with Fudge about your employment. I am a bit nervous to do so but I think he likes me, so I will certainly try. You’re a very smart girl and I believe if they just took notice of how you applied yourself, they’d move you up the ranks swiftly. It would be a shame to let such an academic be reduced to a daycare worker. That seems like something my mum would do if she worked. And you certainly surpass her when it comes to brains and ambition.

Dismayed is an understatement for how I feel knowing that my family has taken advantage of our relationship to try to shake me. I do not wish to speak to them now, I will only speak to them when they realize that I am right, which I hope won’t be much longer. You’re right, of course, I do have love for them, even Fred and George, but I can not continue a relationship with people that discount my accomplishments and constantly laugh at my expense. Reading their letters is pointless. I read the first letter I received from Charlie and although he tried to be eloquent, he still wasn’t seeing things my way. He was basically just regurgitating everything my dad had said, just in a kinder way. He and Bill have always been the most sensible so I see no point in attempting to read the other letters, they will only be worse versions of Charlie’s. I will admit that curiosity got the better of me, however. A letter from Fred came in the same day as yours. You were right, it was awful. I shouldn’t have expected anything more, however, that boy is barely literate. Here is a snippet of his abomination of a letter (I have fixed the spelling mistakes, there’s no reason to subject you to that):

“You are a massive cunt, you know that? After all mum and dad have done for you. Seriously? I can’t even call you a prat anymore, that’s just an insult to prat’s. You’re a slag for Fudge and we all know it. If you wanted to give him a good rimming, you could have just said so instead of causing us all this grief. Well not me, I don’t give one fuck about you. You could be in a ditch tomorrow for all I care. And maybe you will be, Fudge and his friends would just as well see you there as in an office. How could you choose him over your own mother? I hope you’re happy that you make her cry every night. I hear that you get paid three times dad’s salary and you have sent home not one knut. But twats like you don’t care about their family, huh? Enjoy your cushy apartment, I hope when you open the windows, a pigeon flies in and takes a shit on your head.”

Isn’t it just terrible? And it’s all one huge paragraph too, with unbearably non-flowy sentences. He is a right idiot if he thinks I’d ever want to respond to that. And why would I want to send money to people who treat me like that, anyway? I can’t put myself into his pea brain so I guess I will never know. Please make me take your advice next time so that I won’t have to subject myself to that kind of torture.

As for what happened this Spring, I’d rather not talk about it. The Ministry says that you-know-who is not back, so I’m afraid Harry must have been lying. Perhaps he had a fever and hallucinated the whole thing. I don’t hate him, by the way. I know my family must be trying to convince you of that but it is just not true. I think he is foolish and many adults are using him as a pawn. It’s sad, really. My family has gotten so desperate that they made Hermione and Harry write me letters too. I had already been informed by Fudge himself to turn over any correspondence from Harry, so of course I did that. I do wish I had the forethought to read the letter first, I’m very curious about it now, but oh well.

I care for you very much and hope we can arrange a visit soon.

With Even More Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I was hoping this letter would be more positive than the ones we have exchanged lately and that perhaps we could even arrange my trips to London, but I have gotten some terrible news. And I will not believe it until you confirm it.

There is a nasty rumour going around that you are to be court scribe for the Wizengamot in Harry’s trial. Say it isn’t true, Percy! I know it’s such an honor to work so closely with the Wizengamot, you’d be the youngest person in all of history to work as a scribe for them. But at what cost? Harry is your friend. I’ve been spending more and more time with your family and I consider Harry to be a friend now, too. I know the details of the case, and I’m sure you must since you’re apparently working it. Even if you don’t care for him, you must understand that objectively, Harry is in the right, at least morally. He was saving his cousin. The cousin that he grew up with and besides the kid being an absolute terror, he was basically his brother. Wouldn’t you cast magic to save your brothers or sister? How can you work for a case like that when you know you’d do the same as Harry?

I love you, I really do, and that’s why this breaks my heart so much. You’re turning into something that you aren’t for the sake of ambition. Please don’t do this. Come home and if Fudge truly does value you as much as you think, he will continue working with you even after you are on good terms with your family again. You must be missing them, aren’t you?

I will have to postpone the trip to London until you get all this figured out. I hope you understand. I am always open for you to come back here to visit me. We could all meet for dinner at the Burrow, where you belong.

I don’t have much else to say. I’m scared about what’s happening in the world and I’m nervous for you. I miss you, but I’m not sure if the you I miss is still you.

P.S: Tell Hermes I love him.

xxxx,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

You have heard right, at least about the Wizengamot. I beg of you not to let my family poison your mind. Clearly, they want everyone to think I’m a terrible person. If they had it their way, we wouldn’t even be together right now. It’s not their fault, really, they suffer from cognitive dissonance, but they only think with their heart. That’s not sustainable and most certainly not how the world works. The court specifically wants me to be scribe and like you acknowledged, that is a huge honor. This is really going to help me get ahead even further. You know I have big dreams. I’d like to be the Minister one day and having all this under my belt would be a big help.

I really am not allowed to be discussing the case with the public, but I suppose I will make a tiny exception for you. I can’t help but have a soft spot for you; I musn’t make bending the rules for you a habit. You’re lucky I’m even physically able to say anything. The Ministry is heavily monitoring all the mail that comes in and out from high ranking members, but they haven’t done that with me yet (as far as I know, at least). I guess it must be because I’ve been so loyal and I won’t even receive my family’s letters, so they trust me. Little do they know that I have a weakness for you.

As of right now, I’m not too worried about Harry (of course, they might change when court is in session and I get all the details). I think his case makes sense. I’ve poured through court cases similar to this one, although the defendants were never as much of a public figurehead as Harry (but that shouldn’t matter, the Wizengamot is totally unbiased and will not take Harry’s fame into account when deciding a verdict), and every court case similar to this ended in a not guilty verdict. I am not sitting as a court scribe to try to lock Harry away, it’s just my job. I don’t approve of him, but let’s not pretend like I never want him to see the light of day again. Anyway, I was surprised that someone that possesses your caliber of intelligence relied so hard on pathos to convince me that being a court scribe is wrong. Everyone knows emotion is a flimsy argument and certainly has no place in the courtroom. The fact that he saved a muggle’s life will definitely be brought up in court, but it won’t be because it’s someone he cares for. It’ll be because we have all sorts of laws about self defense and protecting each other, even a few about protecting muggles. I fear you might not have a place high up in the ministry if you continue preferring pathos to logos. And anyway, you trying to my emotion by bringing up my family makes no sense. My family are wizards, so if it came down to it, I could protect them and it wouldn’t be against the law. It’s not my fault that my family is better than those Dursley’s.

I really must beg of you to stay away from my family and especially from Harry. That will probably not end well for you. Do not mistake that for a threat, I’d never hurt you, but I’m being realistic. Harry is off the rails and my family blindly believes him. In my opinion, Harry needs to be in a mental hospital, not roaming around as a public figure where everyone hangs on to his every word. He clearly suffers from PTSD after all he went through as a child between his parents being murdered in front him, a very powerful dark wizard trying to to murder him, and the muggle abuse he endured. And that’s not even mentioning all the pressure the world, especially Dumbledore, has put on him. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just insane. If the adults around him cared as much as they say they do, they’d put him away for a while until he can heal. But they won’t, that’s the problem. And now I hear that little Ginny is in love with him. I have never in my life been so in despair. I can’t help but think how bleak her future will be. Maybe I should write a letter to her. I doubt she’ll listen, but I do need to try.

I really do hope you decide to come visit me. Maybe I can speak with your father and come to an honest agreement about you living with me soon enough. I am really lonely here and I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. It seems my family and I will never get along again and I have no one else besides you. I have all this extra income so I think it might be practical for me to marry you. Then, you wouldn’t have to hear all this rubbish from my family in order to feel close with me. I will speak with him about it soon. It’s not really all that bad here and even if you’re not good enough to have a real job in the Ministry, that’s okay. I make enough money and I do want a lot of kids anyway. It wouldn’t be practical for you to have a demanding long term job.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Maybe I am a sensitive fool but I found much of your letter to be highly offensive. You essentially called me unintelligent throughout the letter, then didn’t ask but rather told me that you would be marrying me (only caring about what my father would say, not me). And to top it all off, you told me I was to be your personal incubator while you get to have an actual job. It’s insulting, really. What if I don’t want to do that, did you even consider that? I care for you and I believe I always will but I am not in a place right now where I fancy marrying you. I think I’d rather tie the knot with one of twins or Charlie. Besides, I felt unsettling how you alluded to muggles being lesser beings. They most certainly are not, they’re just different than us. I don’t know how I can be with someone that sees a whole group of people as lesser than them.

I must not have too much respect for myself. After all, I felt all those things that I wrote in the first paragraph, yet I’m still writing to you. What terrible damage love can have to the brain. I think I know how this whole thing will turn out, yet I still hope against my better judgement that we will end up together. I will try to put this past me if you can promise to not be so cruel.

Things are the same as always in my life. Spending most of the time with Mother and Father and the rest tending to children. I think I might die of boredom. I have been thinking about becoming a Hogwarts teacher, at least it would be less degrading than playing babysitter for a bunch of toddlers. Curiously enough, I received a letter from Snape about receiving a position, not Flitwick. He liked me well enough back in school, but I definitely didn’t think he would ever think about contacting me for a teaching role. I didn’t think he ever thought much about any student that wasn’t a Slytherin. I think maybe he sees himself in me. You know I was treated pretty horribly throughout school and something tells me he might have gone through a similar experience. That aside, however, he wrote me a letter requesting my presence to a meeting in a few weeks. It’s a meeting with all the current teachers, so I’m quite nervous about it. They want to speak with me about a new class, I think, it wasn’t any sort of curriculum I was familiar with. Still, I’m heavily considering it. It would be a big step up. I am a little worried about moving out there, but I think I’ll be alright.

I know you act like you don’t care about how your family is doing, but that’s all it is, an act. So I will at least tell you the good parts. I’m sure you’ve seen by the addresses of the letters that they’re still sending you (because they care), they have moved. The Order has been restored, we’d all love to have you there, although I don’t have much hope that you would consider joining. Even Charlie and Bill have come back and joined. They miss you and I think they’re more than a little disappointed. Ginny is dating a kid named Michael Corner, not Harry. I’m sure you’re over the moon about that. Ron and Hermione have become prefects. That’s really good news, yeah? I’m not quite sure how Ron snagged it, but he did.

I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about any more conflict with you, so I won’t even bring up what you said at Harry’s trial. Just know I’m disappointed. What, I will say, however, is that it was so cruel that you didn’t even speak with your own father once court ended. I know you knew he was there. Look, I have a really bad feeling about the future and I can’t help but fear that something bad is going to happen and you’re going to regret being such an ass to them.

This letter was all over the place, I apologize. I just have all these emotions and you don’t seem to understand. Or if you do understand, you don’t care. I don’t know which is worse.

Take care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I apologize for my behavior in my last letter. You’re right, I was only thinking of myself. I’ve just been by myself so much that I guess I find it hard to think about what other people want. I hope you can forgive me. Truly though, I think we could reconcile easier if you met me out in London. Of course only corresponding through letters has led to a strain.

Please brace yourself, because I know if you do not prepare for what I’m about to tell you, you will be very mad at me. I consulted with Fudge and we have decided that you shouldn’t become a teacher at Hogwarts. It’s not a good look for me and it’s safe for you. Dumbledore is off his rocker, I’m not going to allow you to be put in harm's way. Fudge has sent a letter to Hogwarts, strongly suggesting that they find a new candidate for their position. I agree that the role is important, kids need to learn, and you would have been a great teacher. But it’s not the right time for you. I know you will probably be royally pissed for a while, but you’ll get over it. I did it for your own good. I hope you will be happy to hear that I have talked to Fudge about you having a proper job in the Ministry and he agrees. He will be writing to you with an offer soon enough. All’s well that ends well, you get a safer, higher paying job. And you can be near me!

Yes, I knew that my family had moved. I hope they move back soon, it’s not safe for them there. You’re right, someone is going to get hurt. I can feel it in my bones. And of course I will be utterly inconsolable, but it will not be my fault if something happens. It will be Dumbledore’s and inadvertently, Harry’s. I would love to give my family advice, but I know they will not listen. Therefore, there’s no point in writing letters. Besides, even if I did want to write to them, I think Fudge would catch on and have someone start monitoring my mail. I trust the Ministry completely, but I still find it’s in my family’s best interests if the Ministry doesn’t know their exact going on’s.

I heard Ron became prefect. I’m very proud. I wrote him a letter, which the Ministry read (and unfortunately a few unkind edits to, but I’m sure it was for good reason), congratulating him. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s received it. He hasn’t written back. Maybe Dumbledore has started screening letters? I’m proud of Hermione too, although I didn’t write her a letter. You seem to speak with the lot of them often, so please send her my congratulations. She’s such a smart and sweet girl, she’s a good match for Ron (I can tell he likes her). I would have preferred a Pureblood but oh well, she’s better than most muggles. Oh and speaking of people dating, yes I am very pleased that Ginny has found a nice guy that’s not Harry.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

Before I write anything else, I must address your hilarious claim that Dumbledore is monitoring letters. Ron got your letter, read it, then proceeded to burn it. He found it very offensive. He’s not happy with you, so maybe don’t send him more letters.

Fred and George are still mad, more than everyone else. George invited me out last week, I think only because he knew it would get a rise out of you. Fred’s the maddest of them all, as you know so well from his letters, but he’s with Angelina Johnson, so he couldn’t take me on the “jealousy date”. I don’t really fancy George, don’t worry, and I don’t think he fancies me. I must admit, however, that it was a nice time. It was a welcome change to listen to someone talk to me about their interests instead of being obsessed with a job. It was even more welcome that he asked me questions back and seemed to actually care about my responses. My favorite thing, though, was going out with someone that cared so much for their family. Someone that not only understood romantic love, but also platonic and familial love. I’d been missing that part of you for a while. But like I said, I don’t fancy him. I didn’t even let him kiss me. I feel guilty about it all, of course, I’d like to come down to London and try to get things in our relationship to run smoothly again.

Also, yes, I am very upset that you had that letter written to Hogwarts. You totally crossed a line and if I had any balls, I would have broken up with you over it. But alas, I really do want to make it work. This is another thing that I think we need to work on together. In London. Please tell me your thoughts.

With care,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

Literally, what the fuck? I saw red when I read your letter. You. Went. Out. On. A. Date. With. My. Brother? And the little traitor tried to kiss you? I had half a mind to challenge him to a duel. But you’re right, he’s just trying to get me to act out and he will not get that out of me. There are so many problems with our relationship right now and I cannot bear to let you go, so we must meet and work things out immediately. And I’m not coming home, so you must come here. I’ve taken a week off at the Ministry, please arrive here as soon as you receive this letter. I will not be bested by the likes of George Weasley and a few other misunderstandings I may have thrown your way.

No need to write back,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I am so glad we had that meeting in London! I really do feel like we’ve fixed things. It makes me so happy that you have agreed not to be so unkind with your words in the future. And as promised, I have decreased contact with your family and all the other members of the Order. George has written me about a dozen letters since then, checking up on me and filling me in on what’s going on with your family. But as promised, I have not written back. If I expect you to uphold your part of the agreement, I must hold myself to the same standard.

I think I will take that secretary job Fudge offered me. It’s not all that you made it out to be, but at least I can be near you. I’m still too wary to marry you, after all it hasn’t been too long since we were falling apart, but I think it would be nice to be physically closer to you. I’ll see what I can do in terms of flats, since you’re too prudish to lend me room in yours.

Love you lots,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I don’t have much time to write at the moment, I’m very busy, so please excuse the short letter. I, too, am glad we are doing better. It was impacting my efficiency at work and I could not have that. I’m just glad there’s no more Fred and George, they were trying to hijack your mind and make it theirs. Besides, I have heard from more than one female that has come into contact with them, that they are basically a pair of incubi. I know you think I’m dramatic when I say that, but those two boys have turned evil, I know it. I should have seen the clear signs. It was so obvious from the time that they were little boys, chasing poor Ron with spiders.

Thank Godric that you are coming to join me at the Ministry! I can keep a close eye on you there, make sure you’re safe. I know the job isn’t glorious, but not everyone is as fortunate as me. You have to work your way up. I know you’ll have a very important job in no time. And I never said I wouldn’t let you live with me by the way, I said that I didn’t want your father to become cross with me. You really shouldn’t call me a prude, or do you not remember what all went in London when you came to visit? I didn’t think it was quite that forgettable, but I’ll just have to remind you when you move here.

Love,

Percy

Dear Percy,

I’m sorry for the distance between letters. I meant to write, I really did, but everything went to shit here. I know I said I would distance myself from your family, but George wrote to me and said that your father is in the hospital. So now I’m back to semi-living with them. Did you not read your mother’s letter about it, Percy? She marked it “urgent” on the envelope. Your father was utterly distressed that you didn’t even write, much less visit him. It made his recovery harder and longer. Don’t you still care even a little bit? What if he had passed, wouldn’t you have felt so guilty?

Also, your mother collapsed and fell into a fit of tears when you sent your Christmas jumper back. Why didn’t you just keep it? It would have spared her feelings, even if you think you’re too good for the sweaters now. She made me a sweater, I loved it. But oh well, please think about the repercussions of your actions on others. You’re making it very hard on all of us. Also, Fred wants me to let you know that he wants to bring back drawing and quartering just for you. George is more straight to the point, vowing to castrate you if you two ever cross paths again (by the way, they both thought your incubus comment was very funny, I think it inflated their ego).

I know you are on the Ministry’s side, saying that Voldemort is NOT back, which is horseshit and you know it. But you do know who attacked your father, yes? Surely that should be enough proof for you. You’re very smart, why are you letting an institution think for you?

With peace and love,

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

I am slightly dismayed that you didn’t keep up with your end of our agreement, going back to speak with my family. I do understand, though, my father’s attack was a shock and could have ended tragically. I know he’s better now, though, so please cease contact again.

On a similar note, yes, I did read Mum’s letter and know that he was in the hospital. I sent flowers anonymously, if that means anything to you. And I kept tabs on him from the Ministry. If I felt that things were going downhill and he wasn’t going to make it, I would have visited. But he was fine, so it’s not a big deal. Maybe he will learn to not poke his head where it doesn’t need poking from now on.

As for the sweater, it’s not that I didn’t want to keep it. I love her sweaters, I wear some of the old one sometimes. But keeping the sweater would have sent a completely wrong message and given her false hope. So really, sending it back was a selfless act.

I know you want me to say that You-Know-Who is back. But you just don’t understand. I represent the Ministry now. What they say goes. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own thoughts, it simply means that I stand with them.

Just wanted to remind you that you’re very beautiful and I miss your kind heart. I can’t wait for you to move here.

Love,

Percy

Percy,

I am most certainly NOT moving to be with you in London after the stunt you pulled. Betraying Dumbledore and holding Harry in place whilst being questioned by Fudge? What a dick move. I don’t know what I expected, you provided me all the warning signs. I guess that when it mattered, you’d do the right thing. Now I see how wrong I was. I need some time to myself, and you need to think over in your heart why you thought it was okay to do what you did. You just better be glad that Fudge sent you out before you got smacked the fuck up by Dumbledore.

From the top of my head to the bottom of my toes, fuck you

Penelope

Dear Penelope,

This is the fifth letter I’ve sent to you in a row with no response, please answer. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed, really I am, but I’ve dug myself too deep. I miss you, I miss Ginny, I miss Charlie, I miss Bill, I miss Ron, I miss Mum and Dad. I even miss Fred and George. But it’s too late. I wish I had seen it before. They were right, you were right. I can’t let them know that. I feel so ashamed. I want to help them, but I also want to never bother them again. I saw You-Know-Who in the Ministry. I know all along that he was back, but I kept denying it for my job. But now I don’t have my family and I don’t have you, so my job is all I have. Please know that anything you see from me from this moment forward doesn’t represent my heart. You’re right, I don’t remember how many letters ago it was, but you said I wasn’t the person you fell in love with. You couldn’t have hit the nail on the head any better. There’s barely any left of that Percy, just his shell. So really, I shouldn’t be talking to you at all. I’m not the person you committed to. But I still love you. It’s total wishful thinking that I can have you back, but hoping is the only thing that keeps me from going insane. Bill wrote me a letter saying that he was engaged. I don’t want to face my family but I’ll go if I can see you.

Love, Percy

Percy,

I felt like I should write you one last letter because despite myself, I still care. I want to give you closure. It’s clear to me that you’re never coming home, which is clear symbolism that you are never going to do the right thing. You said it yourself in your letters, you’re digging your heels in and standing by the ministry. You’re a filthy coward.

Yes, Bill is getting married in a few months. We’re all very busy with preparations, it seems like that’s the only good thing that’s happening around here. You have an invitation, of course, but you shouldn’t come if you just want to see me. If I see you, I will make a scene and there will be more than just mashed parsnips being thrown at you (yes, Fred and George told me about how you visited just for the benefit of the Ministry. It’s pathetic, really). Your mum is convinced you will show up to the wedding and everything will be magically better. I know you better than that. I wish I was in blissful ignorance and thought you still loved us all, but you don’t. You’re not going to be able to get your head out of your ass until it’s one of us that’s laying lifeless somewhere because of the monsters of people that the Ministry have allowed to roam for so long. I know where you stand and you know where I stand. So there’s nothing else to say.

I’m sending back all the things of yours that I have. You should receive them all with this letter. Please write back if I missed anything.

Sincerely,

Penelope Clearwater

#percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter

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witchofrvnswood · 4 years ago

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awwp rant pt. 2: the characters!

oh boy we’re finally back with part 2!

so in part 1, i discussed plot points that i found troubling and nonsensical. this time, i’m talking about the characters and how they each pissed me off <3

note: am only doing the ones i have beef with, everyone else is cool

let’s start with sophie:

sophie

i’ll be honest, i’ve been conflicted on her character in this book for quite some time. but i think i understand my opinion on her in book 2 much better now that i’ve really thought about it.

so this is the book where she’s probably at her most vulnerable (book 3 could be a contender too). she just lost her mind, killed many people, and is trying so hard to prove that she is good and deny everything that she had done the previous year. we also see why she behaves the way she does, with losing her mother at a young age and blaming her father for neglecting them. we understand why she goes so far to obtain love and why she ranks true love above everything else.

but her methods with dealing with this is toxic. she sees agatha as a tool for a happy ending, and it seems to come more out of desperation to belong with someone, then wanting agatha herself, as she easily dropped her for rafal and then tedros in book three. she does whatever she can to ensure agatha chooses her and only her much like tedros does in this book.

she sneaks out and follows agatha, makes agatha believe tedros tried to hurt her, comforted her and claimed she had “warned agatha” but also acted super forgiving as if agatha was the one who was in the wrong for doubting her and when the truth comes out, pins it all on agatha for trying to choose someone besides. her. now, agatha is not completely in the right in this situation, but what sophie does is so manipulative and cunning. without knowing her backstory and sympathizing with her, she would easily be soon as a cruel and toxic person.

her time as filip was very humbling for her and she realized what she did was completely wrong and she begans to sympathize with tedros and realize maybe he isn’t the villain of the story like she painted him to be. of course, this goes a bit far and she finds herself attracted to him.... which..... did not need to happen considering how toxic their relationship was in book 1.

at the end, she chose rafal out of desperation to be loved, showing she still hasn’t changed and ended up staying with him as he supposedly was the only person in the world who still loved her. (wrong very wrong he’s awful but we’ll get to that later-)

tedros

bro. broooooo. when i tell you i wanted to throw the darn book when i read his scenes in the first half of the book-

when dovey was explaining tedros’ actions after sophie and agatha left, i could not believe it, i thought she had to be joking because no way does an individual overreact to THAT point.

he literally wanted to murder sophie as revenge for taking agatha away from him?? what?? is he mentally okay? i understand seeing her as a barrier between them because, yeah, he’s always been insecure cause his dad’s best friend stole his mom away from him so that must’ve hit a nerve, but agatha willingly went with sophie. why does he need to hurt sophie over this? it’s up to agatha who she chooses, not sophie. and she chose him! she told him right to his face that she chose him and he’s still like “no we have to kill sophie first-” sir-

not to mention how generally messed up this message is? tedros claims that you can’t be in a relationship and have friends at the same time. what?? why is this in the book? why is this even a theme? of course you should be able to have friends and have a relationship, when did that suddenly become impossible?

“I let her live last time and she took you! I can’t make the same mistake, Agatha. I can’t lose you again!” (Chapter 12). this is basically tedros trying to cut off agatha’s friendship because he knows she’s close with sophie and is worried she’ll choose her over him and he sees his only solution to this to be killing sophie. honestly, if i were agatha, i would be fucking terrified of him, like when i was reading it i was thinking “run from this relationship please-”

which sucks because i’m a huge tagatha fan but they were undeniably toxic in this book for me.

in the second half though, that’s when i started feeling bad for him because he genuinely thought he got betrayed by agatha too and ugh that killed me bc after her, he had no hope for happiness left and that’s why he turned to revenge, but the moment he freed the teachers, he got locked up, starved, beaten, and tortured which is ??

i wouldn’t wish that on anyone (except aric lawl) and god he did not deserve that i felt so horrible for him. everyone turned against him, the entire school hated him, he fully believed his true love betrayed him, and he got beaten by aric every single night. as much as i despised him before this point, he did not deserve any of that and i’m so glad filip came when he? she? did because yeah it’s tophie all over again (yikes) but he REALLY needed a friend then and i’m so happy he got one.

ONLY TO GET BETRAYED BY HIM AGAIN RIP. sorry that was not needed but ahem

i was so so happy when he realized agatha never lied and ended up going home with her, as much as i hated the ending, i was happy for him and only him, boy’s been through too much.

but overall, i’d say i dislike him as a character in this book but i also felt super bad for him?? book 2 is so complicated y’all i have so many mixed feelings about everyone in this book.

agatha

okay. so. i keep going back and forth between being fucking annoyed at her and feeling bad for her which i feel is an understandable summary of how she is in this book.

her being scared of sophie - i completely understand that. i’d be surprised if she wasn’t. this is a girl who tried to kill her, tore her down, and went batshit crazy just nine months ago and is now suddenly calm but there’s still a bad vibe to her? and she chose her over someone who finally treated her well, finally saw her as an equal, and showed her that she doesn’t have to bear so much burden just to be loved back.

but i honestly felt kind of annoyed at how she automatically, no hesitation wanted to stay with tedros forever and never look back. um. honey. let’s break this down. we’re talking about a boy she has had no contact with for nine months, wasn’t even in a solid relationship with before she left, and said boy probably has beef with her for leaving him in the first place. and she feels completely fine with sneaking into his school and telling him she wants to be with him forever the SAME day she got back.

what??? is??? this???

this is the same agatha who berated sophie for trying to get with tedros the same day she met him without even knowing him well, right? the same agatha who you’d expect to be smart and think through emotional decisions like these, right? did they replace her personality what???

i get the coven pushed her to meet him immediately but this was just so poorly planned out and so tactless i can’t help but judge her sorry hun.

after that she makes herself believe sophie is good and perfect and maybe this is just her lying to herself because she’s mad at herself for choosing tedros but reading about her talking about how sophie is so amazing and perfect and loves her more than anything compared to being ready to bolt at the sight of her was just so fake. can we talk about how fake their friendship in this book? how fake it is in general? i think wbk.

at the end she finds out sophie lied despite the obvious clues (the scim suit (WHY WOULD BEATRIX USE IT), the spirick marks on sophie’s wrist yada yada yada) and she dumps her ass for tedros and decides they’re staying together forever despite barely knowing him as a person not to mention he just tried to kill her um-

(where is the logic in this book please help me i can’t seem to find it-)

the coven

i’ll be honest: they annoyed the HELL out of me in this book. well, specifically anadil and hester. they pressured agatha to choose tedros and go to him on the first day she got back (BAD PLAN) all so they could return to normal,,, which i guess isn’t out of character for them to do anything to get what they want but it really wasn’t their business? or at least they had no right to be as pushy as they were.

not to mention how HORRIBLE they were to dot. oh my god. the way they treated her in this book was disgusting and the lowest point in their friendship. at first i passed it off as them being hurt that dot replaced them and were lashing out because they had no better way to deal with their problems, which is true but also?? let’s not forget they BULLIED dot so bad in their first year and even kicked her out and replaced her with sophie and as far as we know, they never apologized for it. can we really blame dot for wanting new and kinder friends?

but even then they persisted to isolate her from others, shut down her book club which she used to make friends, and ended up forcing herself to gain weight if she wanted to keep their friendship. y’all i don’t even think anyone realizes how toxic the coven can be at times, the books spend a lot of time solidifying their frienship to the point that it ignores how awful it was at first. and not to mention dot is used to this treatment as she’s been physically and emotionally abused by her father, so as much as she dislikes their treatment of her, she still sees them as her friends and she will do anything to keep them.

i’m glad dot has learned to stand up for herself and gave it back to hester in tlea but god was her and anadil’s treatment of her sickiening.

professor dovey

i did not like her scene in the beginning of this book. she was awful to agatha and sophie and kept tossing blame for how the woods changed on them and yelling at agatha for not choosing tedros - um, she had a split second to decide and her friend literally died and came back to life a minute ago, how was she expected to leave her?

i dunno the way she berated them really got on my nerves because they’re just 15 year olds? they didn’t ask for their story to be told or for their personal relationships to affect the entire world? yes, if it had to be pointed towards anyone, it’s them, but instead of comforting them and trying to help them find a way to fix this, she goes all pointing fingers and straight up saying it would be easier if sophie was dead (not gonna lie i had a good giggle when i read this part but if you think about, that’s actually really sickening).

i’ll be honest, i love professor dovey as a character but she just seemed so cruel in book 2 i mean i get she was super frustrated but these children are confused and distraught enough already? she’s their teacher, she’s supposed to look after them but instead she just insulted them and stressed them out.

as for lady lesso, yes she did the same, but that was pretty in character for her. yes, it was wrong of her, but idk it’s something you would expect from her and she’s known to be the type to be tough on her students, while dovey is just not like that at all. and also, dovey was WAY more mean and short-tempered in this mean, i have to say.

evelyn sader

she was... an interesting villain. super cunning super devious i really admired her except for her doing all of this toxic feminism bullshit (which was honestly already bad enough!) for rafal, A MAN. WHAT. how does that make ANY sense?

evelyn: #kam2020 make them boys your slaves we got this in the bag girls

also evelyn: omg rafal senpai notice me uwu i did all of this for you *gestures towards girls annihilating boys*

anyways her death was um... shocking. rip. or maybe not.

aric

do- do i have to go into this one? killing yara, torturing tedros, being misogynistic, honestly pick one, i just don’t have the energy to rip him apart for the thousandth time.

#the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #sge #schoolforgoodandevil #theschoolforgoodandevil #TWO WHOLE DAYS TO TYPE THIS BYE I AM TAKING A LONG LONG NAP #sorry if these were a bit harsh/too salty/made absolutely no sense i was gonna edit it but then i decided to Not because #idk my full unedited feelings are infinitely superior?

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