#and uses that as an excuse to maintain the oppression

[elderdaemon]

Men have degraded and oppressed women for all of recorded history, and the moment women express righteous anger and walk away from them in disgust as a 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, the men double-down and say, "Well since you hate us anyway, we're going to treat you even worse than before."

It's like that friend you lend money to, and when you remind them of their promise to repay you, they accuse you of having an attitude and use that as an excuse to never pay you back at all. Users, abusers and manipulators look for reasons to justify their wrongdoing.

Hetero/bi women degrade and torture themselves in innumerable ways to attract and keep a man. They bend over backward to please them, and they overlook a LOT to keep a relationship with a man going. I don't think I can emphasize enough how fed up these women have to be to suppress their natural desires to partner with a man and write them off forever as a matter of 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭.

And these men who do nothing to maintain a relationship, who hold their gfs/wives to impossible physical standards while looking and smelling like a goddamned pig, these men who have to be reminded to shower regularly and can't even wipe their as*es properly... what is their response to women's pain?

"HAH, you 4B 'women' are dumb and ugly." ��

"Your body, my choice, always."

"Why do you ugly women think anyone wants to date you anyway?"

They say all this, and like an ex who calls you an "ugly wh*re" because you dumped him, they're also secretly assuming we'll be back.

But none of them are sorry, and none of them ever intend to change. They've made that abundantly clear. And I wish het-partnered women who never intend to join 4B look at this and understand that this is how men respond when you do nothing more than take a step back from them. According to men, the only difference between us and you, between a "dumb ugly *****" and a "good woman with common sense" is literally our willingness to cater to them or not. That goes for every woman, including you. So think about that tonight when your husband, father, brother, male friends or male colleagues are praising you for not being like us. That approval is extremely conditional, and it hinges on what's best for MEN - nothing more.

[tanadrin]

What response would you recommend to people attacking shipping? For that matter, what response would you recommend to Hamas doing that thing they did last October, which everyone has decided didn't happen and wouldn't matter if it did? I don't think the current response is good, but the alternative being offered is literally "roll over and die."

We are so far past a reasonable response to what Hamas did in October that “well what would you have done?” feels like a question that’s in extraordinarily bad faith, whether or not you mean it that way. A policy genuinely aimed at preventing massacres like the one in October starts with not illegally occupying territory, stalling a peace process indefinitely, and persistently dehumanizing and abusing a large civilian population—by the time we’re asking “how do you respond to a group like Hamas attacking civilians” we are already in the realm of abject policy failures, because a group like Hamas only exists because of Israeli policies. An honest response would be something like “fundamentally reassess our approach to Palestine.”

But if Israel has the kind of politics, and Netanyahu was the kind of leader, capable of doing that, it’s hard to imagine things getting this bad in the first place. This is one reason it’s important to put pressure on governments like the UK and US to criticize Israel’s actions, because the push for restraint is not going to come from within Israeli politics.

[pomeraniandancer]

The only thing I'd add to this is that I don't think cats are the largest invasive species in the world...that dubious prize goes to the humans.

I've been seeing a lot of Discourse around outdoor cats that talks past one of the biggest problems addressing community cats/outdoor working cats so I thought I'd chime in with my two cents.

Many arguments I see just... don't think about the cats at all? Or don't consider the logistics of actually addressing the feral cat problem in a humane way. It's always about how outdoor cats shouldn't be outdoors, which is neither realistic nor helpful.

I used to volunteer at an municipal animal shelter in the USA that had a TNR program (Trap, Neuter, Return) and also adopted out community cats to local farms and businesses. Here's my side of the story.

"Your cat doesn't need to be outside" -- Yes, correct. Your domesticated (non-feral) house cat does not need to go outside at all. They can have a fully actualized life safely indoors. When I see this argument, proponents of indoor only cats are correct in most or all their arguments regarding this.

"Outdoor cats are the largest invasive species in the world, and decimate bird populations." -- This is also correct, and part of the reason why you can help by bringing your house cat indoors. Cats are the largest invasive species. Spay and Neuter your cats, bring them inside, and socialize them so they don't become feral.

"TNR doesn't work." -- False. Whether we like it or not, feral cats exist. We have two methods by which we can address the feral cat population -- decimating them (humanely euthanizing the whole colony) or TNR. For a long time, euthanasia was the preferred way to address the feral cat problem. Afterall, if the cats aren't there, doesn't that save the local wildlife population?

Except that we found, studying these colonies, that when a colony is wiped out, the cats of another colony will spread into their territory and continue to have kittens and the population of feral cats is neither controlled nor diminished.

Hence, TNR. What we found performing TNR on cat colonies was that this controlled the population of the colonies, allowing them to stay in their territory, which kept other colonies from spreading (especially colonies we hadn't performed TNR on yet). We at the shelter felt this was the most humane way to control the feral cat population and safely deflate their existence without dealing with the population blooms that euthanasia caused.

"What about kittens?" -- Kittens from these colonies were brought into the shelter, socialized, and fostered out until they could be adopted. Some of these semi-feral kittens needed special homes to be adopted into, but this was the best quality of life for these cats.

"What about cats that get missed during TNR?" -- We would return to the colony several times over a period of several years to perform TNR on the same colony. We mark cats that have been neutered by clipping their ear (this is done humanely, but is the most reliable way to tell if a cat has been neutered so the poor thing doesn't have to have surgery 3-4 times in their life). Also, during the TNR process the cats would be vaccinated to ensure disease did not spread from the colony (i.e. rabies). Still, even getting 60% of the colony TNR'd would dramatically reduce the number of kittens being added to the colony each year. This controlled the population by allowing the territory to naturally deflate in size over time, buying us time to address the larger feral cat problem.

"What if the colony was in an unsafe location?" -- There were two ways we addressed unsafe colony locations -- remember, we know that when the colony is removed, a new colony will move into its place, so we tried not to move the colony unless we really felt the cats or the public was unsafe -- one was to move the whole colony to a new location. Preferably someplace like a warehouse where we have an agreement with the owners of the warehouse. Some of the cats were even relocated to shelter grounds as our community cats. If the colony was small enough we would bring them into our Feral Cats room and adopt them out as community cats.

"What is a community cat?" -- The way the program worked, was that anyone who needed a working cat could apply to the program. These were often rural farmers or businesses with warehouses that needed rodent protection. We trained the farmers and businesses on how to acclimatize the cats to their new home, and as part of the agreement, they had to care for the cats (veterinary care, vaccinations, food and water). This gave businesses and farms an alternative to expensive and environmentally unfriendly rodent control, and also gave these feral cats good places to live out their natural lives.

"Can't you just adopt out feral cats?" -- No. Cats that have not been socialized around humans as kittens, or who have several generations of feral cat in them could not interact with humans in a way that did not cause them undue stress. This was not a humane way to handle feral cats. However, when a cat was brought into the feral cat room, they would be monitored for up to a week. If the cat displayed signs of being semi-social or fully social (hanging out outside of their den, allowing staff to pet them, showing interest in staff in the room), then we would either move the cat into the adoption room or place them in foster to be socialized before adoption. Feral cats who displayed signs of being able to live full and healthy lives with human companions were NOT adopted out as community cats. We also observed this behavior during TNRs and would do the same for those cats too.

"But aren't cats bad hunters?" -- Compared to other species, cats are not the most effective form of rodent control. This is true. However, you have to understand that feral cats exist. There is no "undo" button we can push to stop them from existing. We have to deal with the problem we have right now, which is to safely and humanely decrease the number of feral cats in our communities. And yes, we do that by using cats as rodent control in the community.

"What can I do?" -- Stop saying community cats shouldn't exist. That's not helpful and doesn't solve the problem we have. Bring your cat indoors. Spay and neuter your cats. Adopt from shelters. Volunteer with a TNR team. Support TNR efforts in your community. Recognize that those of us actively dealing with the community/feral problem are trying to do what is in the best interest of our communities and the animals we love. We aren't sitting over here saying these cats should exist -- a feral cat will not have the same quality of life as one that is indoors with a family -- but we have to address the problem in practical terms. We don't have the moral high ground to just do nothing while pontificating solutions that have no basis in actuality.

And yes, it's okay to celebrate community cats. If your local farm has a couple of working cats, that means that farm is helping participate in the safe deflation of the feral cat population. Don't shame a farm or business for using community cats. We're all doing the best we can to solve the problem that we have.

[jewishvitya]

[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]

Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.

Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.

You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."

The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.

And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.

We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.

I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.

So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.

If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.

I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.

I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.

Never again. To ANYONE.

[thedensworld]

Flower Bloomed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: angst, romance, marriage AU

Summary: it's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

Author note: mention of abortion, miscarriage, murder, depression, divorcee. Don't hate me after this because i prepared one more part hehe.. Also, don't blame my baby boomer ass, i don't understand how to tag people TT

Part 2 of Falling Flower

***

"It's been a long time..." The words hung heavily in the air, mingling with the clatter of utensils in the expansive dining room of Kim's Family estate. The atmosphere was tense, palpable even in the silence that enveloped the room. No one dared to speak, their thoughts weighed down by an unspoken topic that lingered, begging to be addressed but forcibly restrained within their minds.

Mingyu, ever observant, had noticed the tension the moment you and he stepped into the room. His gaze flickered over the faces of those present, catching glimpses of suppressed emotions and silent pleas for release. Yet, he chose to remain silent, opting instead to watch the subtle shifts in your expression, which spoke volumes of your desire to escape this suffocating atmosphere.

You cast furtive glances around the room, your eyes betraying a silent plea for someone to break the stifling silence. But as the seconds ticked by, it became apparent that the weight of unspoken words held everyone in its grip, chaining their tongues and stifling any attempt at conversation.

The clatter of utensils seemed to echo louder in the silence, punctuating the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each clang reverberated through the room, a stark reminder of the unresolved emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Despite the urge to flee, you remained rooted to your seat, your discomfort etched into every line of your face. Mingyu watched you closely, his own expression a mirror of your silent distress, yet bound by some unspoken agreement to maintain the facade of normalcy.

In the midst of this oppressive silence, the unspoken topic loomed large, casting a shadow over the room and stifling any attempts at casual conversation. It was a burden that weighed heavily on each person present, a weight that threatened to crush them under its unrelenting pressure.

And so, the minutes stretched on, each one filled with the deafening sound of silence and the unspoken words that hung suspended in the air. In the vast expanse of Kim's Family dining room, the absence of conversation spoke volumes, revealing more about the tangled web of emotions than any words ever could.

"The last time you joined us was New Year's Eve, and it's August now." Mingyu's hand faltered mid-cut, his gaze lifting to meet his mother's eyes as she voiced what had been weighing on everyone's mind since your unexpected appearance. He was poised to intercede, ready to defend you with the excuse of your busy schedule and your efforts to carve out time for today. Yet, he was caught off guard when you spoke up in your own defense, your words ringing out unexpectedly, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Mingyu's father intervened, seeking to diffuse the tension that had settled over the table like a heavy fog. "Forget it. Y/n is with us today, and we should celebrate it," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality as he attempted to steer the conversation onto a more positive path.

"Thank you, father," you responded softly, a hint of relief lacing your words as you acknowledged his attempt to ease the strained atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a whirlwind of emotions churned, a mix of guilt, regret, and a longing for acceptance that lingered unspoken between the lines of your apology.

Mingyu watched the exchange with a furrowed brow, his thoughts a tumultuous jumble as he grappled with conflicting emotions. He wanted to defend you, to shield you from the judgmental stares and whispered criticisms that hung heavy in the air. Yet, he also understood the weight of expectations that bore down upon you, the pressure to conform to the standards set by his family, even at the expense of your own happiness.

As the conversation shifted, Mingyu's gaze flickered between you and his family, a silent plea for understanding passing between them. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than to bridge the divide that separated you, to mend the fractured bonds that threatened to tear you apart. But he knew that such reconciliation would not come easily, that it would require patience, understanding, and a willingness to confront the underlying tensions that simmered beneath the surface.

Mingyu found himself sinking into the plush cushions of his father's office couch, the weight of the evening's tension still heavy upon his shoulders. Dinner had been a bitter affair, marked by a palpable silence that hung like a dark cloud over the table. Mingyu couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's unspoken thoughts, knowing all too well that your presence after an extended absence had cast a shadow over the evening.

As his father poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to him, Mingyu accepted it with a grateful nod, the amber liquid offering a fleeting sense of solace in the midst of the swirling emotions that threatened to engulf him. With each sip, he felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease, though the knot of apprehension in his stomach remained stubbornly intact.

Then, his father's question cut through the stillness of the room like a knife, jolting Mingyu out of his thoughts. "Why is she here?" he asked, his tone laden with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled disapproval as he gestured towards you.

Mingyu hesitated, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. He knew that his father's question carried with it a weighty implication, a silent challenge to justify your presence in the midst of familial discord.

"She didn't even come to Minseo's wedding last month," Mingyu's father remarked, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Mingyu let out a weary sigh, the weight of his father's words settling heavily upon him. It was yet another reminder of the growing chasm between you and his family, a divide that seemed to widen with each passing day.

"I thought you didn't bother at all," Mingyu interjected, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness as he braced himself for his father's response.

His father shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I was," he admitted begrudgingly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "But the more I think about it, the weirder it becomes."

Mingyu furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to decipher his father's cryptic words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.

"I know you two sleep separately," his father stated matter-of-factly, the blunt revelation sending a jolt of surprise coursing through Mingyu's veins. There was no attempt to mask the source of his knowledge; it was clear that Mingyu's maid had betrayed their secret, laying bare the truth for all to see.

Mingyu felt a surge of anger and embarrassment rising within him, the sting of betrayal cutting deep as he grappled with the implications of his father's words. He had hoped to shield you from the judgmental eyes of his family, to preserve some semblance of privacy in the midst of their scrutiny. Yet, it seemed that their secrets were no longer safe, laid bare for all to see in the harsh light of his father's scrutiny.

As Mingyu struggled to find his voice amidst the swirling tide of emotions, he couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by his father's lack of discretion and by the revelation of their private affairs.

"I'm going to divorce her," Mingyu finally uttered, breaking the heavy silence that hung between him and his father like a suffocating shroud. His words echoed in the air, carrying with them the weight of a decision that had been looming over him for far too long.

His father's response was immediate, a mixture of surprise and skepticism etched into the lines of his face. "Are you sure? Didn't you marry her to gain leverage at JIS Corp?" he questioned, his tone betraying a hint of doubt as he sought to understand Mingyu's sudden change of heart.

Mingyu nodded, the admission hanging heavy on his conscience. "Yeah... At first," he admitted reluctantly, the weight of his confession settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach. "But I don't think it's worth it anymore. Her mother still runs the company anyway."

His father's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them as they both acknowledged the futility of clinging to a marriage built on ulterior motives. "She's a bad person," his father murmured, his words tinged with bitterness as he echoed Mingyu's unspoken sentiments.

Mingyu couldn't help but agree, the memories of your mother-in-law's manipulative tactics and ruthless ambition still fresh in his mind. But as he cast a sideways glance at his father, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

"She raised one too," Mingyu whispered under his breath, his words barely audible above the low hum of the room. But they fell on deaf ears, lost amidst the weight of their shared silence and the unspoken truths that lingered between them.

*

"How's the baby?" you asked, breaking the awkward silence that hung heavily between you and Minseo. Her hand instinctively went to her growing stomach as she replied, "She's alright," her words tinged with discomfort.

The distance between you was palpable, a stark reminder of the rift that had formed between you over time. The secrecy surrounding your families and your marriage to her brother had only served to deepen the divide, leaving your once-close friendship strained and distant.

Dongmin, Minseo's husband, approached with a plate of fruit, silently acknowledging the need for privacy between you and Minseo. As he retreated, Minseo cleared her throat, her gaze flickering between you as she struggled to find the right words to break the icy tension that hung between you.

In the pregnant pause that followed, Minseo's mind raced, torn between the desire to address the elephant in the room and the fear of opening old wounds. She knew all too well the reasons for your prolonged absence, but your sudden presence tonight had stirred up a sense of unease within her.

As she pondered her next move between bites of fruit, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at her insides. The weight of unspoken truths and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared.

In that moment, Minseo found herself grappling with a myriad of conflicting emotions, longing for the closeness you once shared even as the distance between you seemed insurmountable. But as she looked into your eyes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, unsure of what lay ahead for the fractured friendship that had once meant so much to both of you.

"Are you still working with Mr. Choi?" Minseo finally asked, breaking the strained silence that hung between you. You nodded your head in response, the motion almost automatic as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Minseo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at the confirmation. It seemed like just yesterday when her brother had excitedly announced his intention to marry you, catching her off guard with the suddenness of it all. In the blink of an eye, you had gone from being her best friend to her sister-in-law, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed left her reeling.

She remembered flying back to South Korea for the wedding, watching from the sidelines as you and her brother exchanged vows, a smile plastered on your face as you posed for pictures with friends and family. But beneath the facade of happiness, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.

As time passed, the once-close bond between you and Minseo began to fray, the demands of work and the pressures of marriage driving a wedge between you. The dinners and events that once brought you together became fewer and farther between, until eventually, you stopped attending altogether.

For Minseo, the sudden silence was deafening, leaving her to wonder what had gone wrong between you. She had tried reaching out, hoping to bridge the growing distance between you, but her attempts had been met with silence, leaving her to grapple with the painful realization that the friendship she had cherished for so long was slipping away.

And now, as she sat across from you, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared. In that moment, Minseo couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong, and whether there was any hope of salvaging what was left of the bond that had once meant everything to her.

Mingyu approached, breaking the icy silence between you and Minseo with the simple declaration that it was time to head home. The drive wasn't far from where your conversation with Minseo had left off, but a chill lingered in your body, causing you to shudder involuntarily. Mingyu, seated beside you, remained motionless, perhaps due to the effects of the drinks he'd had at his parents' place. Yet, his sight had been closed off for months now; he hadn't truly seen you in all that time.

Once back at Mingyu's place, he left you in the living room without a word, disappearing into his room after a brief reminder about the charity ball hosted by Seungcheol's parents tomorrow. You trudged wearily to your own room, conveniently situated next to his, and locked the door behind you. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, a stark contrast to the lively dinner at Mingyu's parents' home earlier. Each step felt like a burden, as if carrying the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"People in the company gossip about your relationship," Mingyu's mother words echoed in your mind, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand whispers. "They even mentioned that you two are apart since March."

The rumor hung heavy in the air, suffocating the truth beneath layers of speculation and hearsay. Mingyu's mother insistence cut through the silence, a reminder of the urgent need to silence the falsehoods. "If you want to shut them up, you need to stop the rumor," she urged, her voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"You two should try to have a child again."

As you sat at your office desk, the weight of the accusations bore down on you, mingling with the scattered fragments of your daydream. Your gaze lingered on your boss's schedule for the upcoming weekend, but your thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the relentless knocking on your door.

You realized with a jolt that you had locked the door earlier, and the persistent rapping could only mean one thing – Mingyu's arrival. With a deep breath, you prepared to face the confrontation, the anticipation building in your chest like a storm on the horizon.

"Wait a minute," you said, pausing mid-step as you rushed to open the door. Mingyu stood before you, his eyes betraying a hint of worry. He cleared his throat, quickly composing himself before asking if he could come into your room. You made room for him, allowing him to enter, and he settled onto the couch near your bed with a heavy sigh.

"I have something to tell you," he began, his tone serious as he handed you a piece of paper. Your eyes scanned the words, and a wave of unexpected realization washed over you. You looked up at Mingyu, silently demanding an explanation. He nervously bit his lip before speaking, his words laden with a mix of regret and resignation.

"This marriage... it has no reason to continue," he confessed, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of finality. You couldn't help but agree, feeling the weight of truth settle upon your shoulders.

"We rushed into this too quickly a year ago," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "We've lost the reason for it. And... I don't think either of us ever truly loved each other. Perhaps... I've fallen out of love too."

The words hung heavy in the air, a somber acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. As you sat on the edge of the bed, emotions swirling within you, you couldn't help but wonder how things had come to this point. It was a bittersweet realization, but one that needed to be acknowledged nonetheless.

You contemplated asking if there was someone else, but you quashed the thought, clenching your lips to stifle any potentially hurtful words. A heavy sigh escaped you, the reality sinking in sooner than anticipated.

"I thought we had another year," you murmured, the weight of the prenuptial agreement pressing on your mind. The contract stipulated a minimum of two years of marriage before considering divorce—a promise you both made before exchanging vows. Yet here you were, facing the prospect of dissolution, initiated not by you, but by Mingyu himself.

"I'm going to take responsibility for that," Mingyu uttered, his words hanging in the air, a mixture of regret and resignation evident in his tone.

Your gaze fixated once more on the divorce papers, each line a cruel reminder of shattered dreams and broken promises. Your head spun with disbelief; this wasn't the life you had envisioned just a year ago. Memories flooded in—of your childhood home, your mother's unwavering support, and the daunting uncertainty that awaited you beyond the confines of this crumbling marriage.

"How about my rights? My mother won't give up on me before our two-year anniversary," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the weight of disappointment.

He bowed his head, his expression pained with apology. "I'm sorry..."

In that moment, Kim Mingyu became the living embodiment of abandonment. It was a stark realization that perhaps, in this cold and unforgiving world, no one truly cared about you. As the weight of loneliness settled upon your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel betrayed by the very person you once believed would be your lifelong companion.

*

Months had passed since the last time he had seen you dress up, and as you approached him in the living room, clad in a long, enticing red dress that hugged your curves, he was reminded of just how much he had missed the sight of you all dolled up. He rose from the couch, urgency flickering in his eyes, gesturing for you to hurry as the event awaited, yet you both remained within the confines of your home.

As Mingyu prepared to step out of the entrance, you halted him with a subtle hand gesture, drawing him closer as you deftly adjusted his tie and smoothed down his suit. The sudden proximity caught him off guard, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the warmth of your body pressed against his. The scent of your perfume enveloped him, a familiar yet intoxicating aroma that never failed to stir something deep within him, a reminder of his adoration for you.

Upon arrival, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable surprise that mirrored the astonishment seen on Mingyu's family's faces during last night's dinner. Your unexpected presence amidst the socialite crowd stirred whispers and raised eyebrows, the subject of endless speculation and gossip during your absence from such gatherings.

As Mingyu guided you through the room, his hand lingering possessively around your waist, it was a scene reminiscent of days gone by, a familiar tableau that seemed to defy the rumors swirling around your relationship. The sight of the two of you together, united against the backdrop of societal expectations, left many gaping in disbelief.

Approaching Seungcheol, the host of the event and Mingyu's best friend, Mingyu couldn't help but notice the genuine warmth in your smile as Seungcheol greeted you both with enthusiasm. With a gentle tug, you were whisked away by Seungcheol's wife to mingle with other socialites, leaving Mingyu to engage in conversation with Seungcheol and Jeon Wonwoo, his trusted confidant from college.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Kim Mingyu. I don't like your wife's mood at work today," Seungcheol bluntly expressed, finally voicing the concern that had been weighing on his mind since his interactions with you earlier that morning.

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgment, recognizing the unique influence Mingyu held over the situation. "Only Mingyu could manage that," he remarked, a subtle nod to your exceptional professionalism and dedication as Seungcheol's trusted secretary.

Mingyu's sigh resonated with a sense of resignation, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's observation. "I haven't done anything," he admitted wearily, the frustration evident in his voice as he sought refuge in the simple act of sipping his wine, a temporary respite from the complexities of the situation.

Wonwoo's gaze bored into Mingyu, who nervously swallowed his saliva. The tension between them was palpable, Mingyu's discomfort evident in every shift of his weight. He despised Wonwoo's uncanny ability to read people, a skill that made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Mingyu believed that Seungcheol, their mutual friend, was oblivious to the true nature of his marriage. He trusted that Seungcheol saw only what he wanted to see: a seemingly happy couple. After all, Seungcheol had witnessed firsthand how formidable you could be when dealing with Mingyu's shortcomings.

But Wonwoo was a different breed altogether. He possessed a keen intuition, capable of detecting even the slightest hint of deception. From the moment Mingyu had confessed his impending marriage, Wonwoo had sensed something amiss.

"Did you knock somebody?" Wonwoo's first sentence upon hearing Mingyu's announcement cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. It was a direct challenge, a probing inquiry designed to unearth the truth buried beneath Mingyu's carefully constructed facade.

As Mingyu stood before Wonwoo, his facade crumbled under the weight of scrutiny, his discomfort laid bare for all to see. He could feel the weight of Wonwoo's gaze bearing down on him, exposing his innermost fears and insecurities. In that moment, Mingyu realized that he could never truly escape Wonwoo's penetrating gaze, nor could he hide the truth from someone who could smell deception from a mile away.

Once Seungcheol was called away by his parents, Mingyu swore he felt a shiver run down his spine as Wonwoo spoke. "What's with her presence tonight? I feel like something's up." The intensity of Wonwoo's observation sent a chill through Mingyu, his nerves already frayed from the tension between them.

Shaking his head, Mingyu cautioned his friend, "Don't jinx anything or it'll happen." He knew all too well the power of suggestion, especially when it came from someone as perceptive as Wonwoo.

But Wonwoo merely scoffed at Mingyu's warning. "I'm relieved I'm not married. Married men are sensitive, just look at Seungcheol hyung." He gestured towards the older man with a knowing smirk, emphasizing his point.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his wine to mask his unease. "You're right. Don't get married," he replied, the weight of his own marital struggles weighing heavily on his mind.

Wonwoo's smirk only widened at Mingyu's response. "Got you!" he declared triumphantly, reveling in his ability to tease his friend mercilessly. The playful banter between them did little to ease Mingyu's apprehension, however, as he couldn't shake the feeling that Wonwoo saw right through him, unraveling his secrets with every word exchanged.

Mingyu let out a curse under his breath, his frustration evident as he averted his gaze from his friend. His eyes landed on your figure standing a few feet away, engrossed in conversation with an unfamiliar man. Mingyu's brow furrowed in concern as he turned back to Wonwoo.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Wonwoo followed Mingyu's gaze to where you stood, conversing with the stranger. "Ah, that's Lee Seokmin," Wonwoo explained, his tone casual. "He's the son of Dr. Lee from Seoul University Hospital. I heard he's also a doctor."

Mingyu's frown deepened. "Why is he talking to Y/n?" Mingyu's protective instincts kicked in, his mind racing with questions and scenarios.

Wonwoo shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe they know each other," he suggested. "I've heard Seokmin is a really friendly and affectionate person. He's quite charming, from what I've heard."

Mingyu's unease grew as he watched the interaction between you and Seokmin, his gut twisting with a mixture of jealousy and concern. Despite Wonwoo's attempt to ease his worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the encounter than met the eye.

Mingyu's brows furrowed deeply, his dislike evident in the creases of his forehead and the tension in his jaw. He couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the sight of you conversing so effortlessly with another man. It was rare for you to befriend anyone outside your small circle, especially a man. As far as Mingyu knew, your only close friend was Minseo, and you rarely had any male friends aside from colleagues from work.

Mingyu had been prepared to approach you after handing his glass to Wonwoo. However, his intentions were abruptly halted when a groan echoed from the other side of the room, followed by urgent voices calling for a doctor. Mingyu's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his father slumped into a colleague's arms, clutching his chest in pain. It was happening again—his father's heart troubles.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mingyu sprang into action, his adrenaline kicking in as he rushed to his father's side. Ignoring the curious gazes and the frantic murmurs around him, he focused solely on his father's well-being. With trembling hands, he called out for someone to dial the emergency number, his voice cutting through the chaos of the room.

Fear and urgency flooded Mingyu's senses as he knelt beside his father, his heart pounding in his chest. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him except ensuring his father received the help he desperately needed.

As Mingyu knelt by his father's side, panic and desperation etched on his face, you and Seokmin approached. Seokmin wasted no time in announcing himself as a doctor, offering his assistance in the tense situation. However, before Seokmin could fully extend his help, Mingyu shot him a gaze so intense it momentarily caught Seokmin off guard. The unspoken tension between them hung thick in the air, palpable to anyone observing.

You watched the exchange between Mingyu and Seokmin, sensing the growing discomfort and suspicion emanating from Mingyu. Recognizing the need to diffuse the situation and allow Seokmin to attend to Mingyu's father, you gently intervened. Placing a reassuring hand on Mingyu's shoulder, you spoke softly but firmly.

"He's a doctor, Mingyu. You need to trust him. Your father will be alright," you urged, your voice laced with conviction. With a gentle tug, you pulled Mingyu away from the scene, guiding him to a safe distance where he could observe without feeling overwhelmed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu sat alone in front of his father's patient room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He absentmindedly picked up a phone call from Wonwoo and Seungcheol, grateful for the distraction, but also using the moment to let himself calm after the pounding in his chest earlier. Leaning his head against the cool wall, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

The soft click of the door opening broke the silence, and Mingyu's eyes blinked open to find you entering the room. Wordlessly, you settled beside him, a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil. No words were exchanged, but the sounds of your breaths and sighs filled the space, offering a sense of solace.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Mingyu finally spoke, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was losing my cool."

He watched as you nodded understandingly, your expression gentle and empathetic. "It's okay, I understand," you murmured softly, mirroring his position as you leaned against the wall beside him. In that moment, Mingyu felt a weight lift off his shoulders, grateful for your silent support amidst the chaos of his emotions.

Mingyu's gaze shifted from the scene in front of him to your face, his heart clenching with a tumultuous mix of emotions. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he watched you sit beside him, your presence a stark reminder of the connection you once shared. The sight of you with another man reignited the flames of jealousy within him, fueling his inner turmoil.

Closing his eyes tightly, Mingyu struggled to make sense of his conflicting feelings. Where had the love he once harbored for you gone? Where were the tender emotions that used to fill his heart at the sight of your smile?

His chest tightened with an indiscernible ache as he wrestled with these questions, grappling with the realization that the love he once thought was eternal had somehow slipped through his fingers. In that moment of vulnerability, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for the fractured pieces of his heart.

He glanced at you once again, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. You turned your head to meet his stare, but the warmth and affection that once radiated from his eyes were now replaced by cold indifference. Everything about you seemed to fuel his growing disdain and anger, each breath becoming shallower, sweat trickling down his forehead, and his fingers clenching into tight fists.

As he sat there, consumed by memories of betrayal and heartache, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder how everything had unraveled so quickly. The pain of realizing that the person he once cherished was capable of such deception gnawed at his soul, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.

In that moment, amidst the silence that hung heavily between them, Mingyu knew that the love he once felt for you had been irreparably tainted by the bitterness of betrayal. And as he stared into your eyes, all he could see was the reflection of his own shattered dreams and misplaced trust.

His mind drifted back to the moment when his feelings for you began to sour, a pivotal moment etched into his memory like a scar. It was the day he stumbled upon that innocuous piece of paper tucked away in your desk, a note filled with secrets and lies that shattered his trust in you. From that moment on, the love he once held for you had gradually withered away, leaving behind a festering wound that refused to heal.

"Tell me, what is it?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense silence as he confronted you with the paper clenched tightly in his hand. You approached him cautiously, your heart pounding with apprehension as you took the paper from him. It was an abortion form from the hospital, a stark reminder of the decision you were contemplating.

"You want an abortion? After everything we've been through, I thought you finally could accept me, accept them, accept us!" Mingyu's words were laced with hurt and disbelief, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.

"Why are you so selfish, Y/n? Don't you ever think about my feelings?" His voice cracked with emotion, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air between you.

"Mingyu, I can explain..." you began, but he cut you off with a weary sigh.

"Stop it, Y/n. You're a grown-up, you're capable of deciding what you want, considering the kind of childhood you had," Mingyu's tone was resigned, his disappointment palpable.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you because of your mom, but our child doesn't deserve the same treatment. You want to... to kill them? That's evil, Y/n," Mingyu's voice wavered with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his heart breaking at the thought of losing the child he had already grown to love.

"You're just like your mom," the words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain, as Mingyu turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of the truth any longer.

*

.Weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Mingyu's door, your hand poised to knock. With a deep breath, you hesitated, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself for what lay beyond that threshold. But before you could make a move, the door swung open, revealing Mingyu standing there in his pajamas, a mug in hand.

Surprise flickered across your features as you met his gaze, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of hope in your heart. Mingyu's expression was unreadable, his eyes guarded as he studied you in silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

You swallowed hard, searching for the right words to convey the turmoil swirling within you. "I... I wanted to talk," you replied hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nodded, his gesture a silent invitation for you to enter. "I was about to grab some water. Do you want some?" he offered, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth that belied the tension lingering between you.

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his offer and followed him into his sanctuary. The room felt familiar yet foreign, a sanctuary for both of you months ago before you decided to sleep in the other room. He motioned for you to sit on the sofa next to his bed while he settled himself at his office desk, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his features.

As you watched him, a pang of guilt tugged at your heart. Mingyu seemed lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed with concentration as he continued to work even in this late hour. The sight of him laboring away despite the heaviness weighing on his shoulders filled you with a sense of admiration and regret.

"If I'm disturbing you from working, we can talk tomorrow morning," you offered tentatively, the doubt evident in your voice.

Mingyu shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "I'm done anyway," he replied, his fingers moving to shut off his computer with a decisive click. Turning his full attention to you, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"What is it you want to say?" he asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. In that moment, as you sat face to face with Mingyu in the quiet solitude of his room, you knew that the time for honesty and reconciliation had finally come.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I'm aware that Seungcheol might have already told you about this, but I'm resigning," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil churning within you.

Mingyu nodded, his expression somber as he removed his glasses, the weariness evident in the lines etched on his face. "Yeah, he called me right away," he confirmed, his hand moving to massage his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion.

"After we divorced, I'm going to move to Canada," you continued, your words heavy with the weight of impending change. "I'm going to have treatment there."

As you spoke, Mingyu's gaze softened, a mixture of understanding and sadness flickering in his eyes. Mingyu's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is our psychiatrist here not enough that you have to get treated there?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You nodded, unable to muster the strength to offer a further explanation. Despite his inquiry, Mingyu's gaze seemed distant, his attention drifting away as if the topic held no significance to him. It was a stark reminder that the care and concern he once held for you had long since dissipated, replaced by an indifferent detachment.

As you looked at Mingyu, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. The realization that he no longer had any interest in your well-being only served to deepen the rift between you, highlighting the distance that had grown between you over time.

"What about you? Do you have any plans after our divorce settlement?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the impending separation hanging heavily between you.

Mingyu shook his head, his response clipped and devoid of emotion. "I'm just going to live my life like usual," he replied, his tone betraying the indifference he felt towards the situation. It was a stark reminder of the disconnect that had grown between you, the sense of being mere strangers occupying the same space.

As the conversation turned towards your impending move and your relationship with your mother, Mingyu's demeanor remained distant, his words lacking any genuine concern. The tension between you hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating any hope of reconciliation or understanding.

With each passing moment, the discomfort in your stomach grew, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil swirling within you. You struggled to maintain your composure as the pain intensified, your mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken fears.

Feeling lightheaded and nauseous, you knew you couldn't continue the conversation any longer. With a trembling voice, you declared that you were done talking, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Mingyu's presence.

As you rose from your seat, the cramps in your stomach intensified, sending waves of agony coursing through your body. With every step, you fought to conceal your pain, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Mingyu.

But as you turned to leave, a burning question lingered in your mind, demanding to be heard. With a shaky breath, you uttered his name, your voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room.

"Mingyu..."

"Don't you wanna know my feelings about our divorcee?"

There was a pregnant pause as you awaited his response, the tension thickening between you like a taut string on the verge of snapping. And then, finally, his answer came, cold and final.

"I know you've been waiting for this. I'm sorry for holding you long enough."

His words pierced through you like a dagger, the finality of his apology crushing any lingering hope of salvaging what was left of your relationship. With a heavy heart, you turned away, the weight of his indifference crushing you as you stumbled towards the door.

But before you could escape, the pain became too much to bear, and darkness closed in around you, pulling you into unconsciousness. And as you crumpled to the floor, the last thing you saw was Mingyu's impassive gaze, a silent witness to the collapse of everything you had once held dear.

*

Three weeks before Seungcheol's wedding, life was a whirlwind of chaos and excitement. As his trusted assistant, you juggled his hectic schedule while also overseeing the wedding preparations. However, there was an added complication: you were five months pregnant. Only a month had passed since your honeymoon, and taking leave now would burden everyone. Despite feeling a severe burning sensation in your chest, you soldiered on, determined not to let anyone down.

On that fateful day, after wrapping up a meeting with a client alongside Seungcheol and Junhui, the sensation in your chest escalated, leaving you gasping for air. You motioned desperately to Junhui for assistance, the panic evident in your eyes. Seungcheol, occupied with driving his own car, was unaware of your distress as you shared a vehicle with Junhui. Sensing the urgency, Junhui wasted no time and swiftly steered the car towards the nearest hospital.

The drive felt agonizingly long as you struggled to maintain composure, each breath a struggle against the tightening grip of fear. Junhui's concern was palpable, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mixture of urgency and worry. With each passing moment, the weight of the situation pressed down upon you, threatening to overwhelm.

Finally, the hospital loomed into view, a beacon of hope in the midst of turmoil. Junhui guided you inside, his steadying presence offering a sliver of reassurance amidst the chaos. As you were ushered into the emergency room, a flood of emotions washed over you – fear, uncertainty, and a profound sense of vulnerability.

In that moment, as you awaited medical attention, the true magnitude of the situation dawned upon you. The wedding, the responsibilities, all faded into insignificance in the face of this sudden health crisis. All that mattered now was the well-being of yourself and your unborn child.

For the first time, you heard the dreaded words: preeclampsia. The burning sensation that had plagued you for days, you now learned, wasn't just discomfort—it was a warning sign, a miniature heart attack triggered by hypertension during your pregnancy.

"Mrs. Ji," the doctor's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "from your health records, it appears you were in a car accident twenty years ago. Do you recall what injuries you sustained?"

Your head shook slowly, memories from that time shrouded in fog. "No," you murmured, "I barely remember anything from back then."

Doctor Lee Seokmin nodded, his expression grave. "It seems you underwent both heart and neurosurgery as a result of that accident. Unfortunately, those procedures have contributed to your current struggle with preeclampsia during this pregnancy."

A furrow formed between your brows as you processed the implications. "What should I do?" Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your burgeoning stomach, a protective gesture.

"It's strongly recommended that you consider terminating the pregnancy before it's too late," Dr. Lee advised gently. "Carrying the baby poses significant risks to your health, even to the point of endangering your life."

The weight of his words settled heavily upon you. "In simpler terms," he continued, his tone sympathetic yet firm, "your heart is struggling to supply blood for both you and the baby. Not only does this jeopardize your own safety, but the chances of the baby surviving are also slim. I urge you to carefully consider your options."

Tears welled in your eyes as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was a devastating choice to make, a painful crossroads where the life of your unborn child hung in the balance against your own.

Your heart ached with the weight of the decision ahead. Every beat seemed to echo the uncertainty of your future, intertwined with the life growing within you. As you sat in the sterile hospital room, the silence enveloped you, broken only by the rhythmic hum of medical equipment.

The thought of ending the pregnancy felt like a betrayal—a betrayal to the life blossoming inside you, a betrayal to the dreams you had woven around the idea of motherhood. But the stark reality laid out by Dr. Lee left little room for sentimentality. It was a matter of survival, a harsh truth that demanded to be faced.

You turned your gaze to your stomach, where the faint flutter of movement reminded you of the fragile existence nestled within. How could you choose between your own life and the life you had already begun to nurture?

Questions swirled in your mind, each one a thorn digging deeper into your already burdened heart. Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your decision may cost the life of your child? Could you bear the guilt of choosing self-preservation over the chance of motherhood?

Yet amidst the turmoil, a glimmer of resolve flickered within you. As painful as it was, you knew that you couldn't risk leaving your family behind, couldn't bear the thought of leaving your loved ones to mourn a life lost too soon.

With a heavy sigh, you met Dr. Lee's gaze, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. It was time to make the choice that would shape the course of your future, a choice that carried the weight of both sorrow and hope.

At the end, you still choose chance of motherhood. You'll found solution along with Mingyu. You would never terminate your pregnancy.

*

One haunting truth lingered in the shadows of your mind, a specter of betrayal from the past. It was the knowledge that your own mother had once plotted to end your life in that fateful car accident. Night after night, you found yourself jolting awake from restless slumber, the echoes of that near-tragedy replaying in your nightmares.

Mingyu, your husband, was keenly aware of your nightly struggles. Yet, despite his understanding, a palpable distance had settled between you in the wake of the doctor's grim recommendation. The discovery of the abortion form seemed to widen the chasm, a silent testament to the gulf that had formed between your hearts.

You found solace in the nursery room, seeking refuge amidst the soft hues and gentle whispers of promise that filled the space. But even here, the weight of Mingyu's silence pressed down upon you like an unbearable burden. Each night, as you lay alone in the darkness, tears would silently trace their paths down your cheeks, mingling with the whispers of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Breakfast became a solitary affair, the clink of utensils against porcelain echoing in the empty spaces between you. And though you shared the same table come dinnertime, the silence between you was deafening, each lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts.

You longed for the warmth of Mingyu's embrace, for the reassurance of his presence in the midst of uncertainty. Yet, his absence—both physical and emotional—cast a shadow over your shared existence, leaving you adrift in a sea of solitude.

As the days stretched into a week of silent anguish, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the fractures in your relationship would widen into irreparable chasms. And in the quiet of the night, as sleep eluded you once more, you found yourself grappling with the weight of unanswered questions and the ache of unspoken words.

As you stepped through the threshold of your home, a sense of unease gripped you at the sight of the moving crew bustling about, their movements purposeful as they carted away pieces of your life. The crib, once a symbol of hope and anticipation, now stood bereft of its place in the nursery.

Summoning a flicker of courage, you ventured into the room, your heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. Mingyu, usually ensconced in his office, was seated at his desk, his attention focused on the screen before him.

"Why are they moving our stuff?" you ventured, the words trembling on your lips as you sought his gaze.

His response was chilling, devoid of the warmth and familiarity you had grown accustomed to. "What stuff?" His tone was colder than the winter wind, sending shivers down your spine.

A surge of panic rose within you as you struggled to find your voice. "They moved out our baby stuff!" The words spilled out, laced with desperation and a tinge of disbelief.

But Mingyu's reply pierced through the fragile facade of hope, extinguishing it with brutal finality. "We don't have a baby." His words hung in the air like a heavy curtain, separating you from the life you had envisioned together.

The weight of his denial crushed you, leaving you gasping for breath in its suffocating grip. How could he dismiss the dreams you had nurtured, the plans you had woven for the future? It felt like a betrayal, a betrayal of the love you had shared and the promises you had made to each other.

Tears welled in your eyes as the reality of his words sank in, a painful reminder of the chasm that had widened between you. And as you stood there, face to face with the stark truth of your shattered hopes, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end—a silent requiem for the life that might have been.

The air crackled with tension as you took determined steps towards Mingyu's desk, your heart pounding in your chest. With a trembling hand, you reached out and turned off his computer, the abruptness of the action punctuating the charged atmosphere.

"What do you mean? Stop acting like this!" Your voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and desperation, the words tumbling out in a rush as you confronted him head-on.

Mingyu's gaze flickered up to meet yours, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Y/n," he replied curtly, his tone laced with indifference.

"Kim Mingyu!" The use of his full name was a reflex, a testament to the gravity of the situation that hung between you like a heavy fog.

A bitter taste rose in your throat as his words cut through the silence like a knife. "Seeing them makes me sick, Y/n," he spat, his voice tinged with a venomous edge.

Your heart clenched at his callousness, the sting of betrayal slicing through the facade of composure you had struggled to maintain. "Don't you see how betrayed I am right now?" Mingyu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you! I love our life! But seeing that abortion form hurt me."

Tears threatened to spill over as you struggled to convey the depth of your pain, the weight of Mingyu's words bearing down on you like a crushing burden. The rift between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow you whole.

But amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope remained—a glimmer of the love that had once bound you together, a fragile thread that refused to be severed. And as you stood there, locked in a battle of wills and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still a chance to bridge the divide and find solace in each other's arms once more.

"Stop acting like you're the only one suffering here!" The words burst forth from your lips, fueled by a potent mix of frustration and despair. "I don't want to do it either! But I have to, Mingyu! I have to!" Each syllable was laden with the weight of your anguish, the struggle to convey the depth of your turmoil.

Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned plea. But when he scoffed in response, a surge of indignation rose within you like a tidal wave. "Don't you see I'm working on it?" you cried out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm trying my best to keep them. Stop telling me I'm selfish! You're selfish, you only think about what you're feeling this week and you left me! You left me alone!"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth laid bare in the starkness of your words. Mingyu's silence spoke volumes, his refusal to acknowledge your pain a sharp sting that cut deeper than any words could.

"So your feeling is the only one that's valid?" Mingyu's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, his tone laced with disdain.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within you. "You don't know what kind of sorrow I've been hiding until they turned into anger," you mumbled, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, unable to bear the weight of his indifference any longer. "And now, I'm the bad person," you whispered to yourself, the words a bitter reminder of the rift that had formed between you.

Leaving Mingyu in his office, you retreated to the sanctuary of the nursery, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. With a heavy sigh, you instructed your house assistant to have a bed and your belongings moved into the child's room, unable to face Mingyu with the swirling emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

*

Mingyu stood vigil beside your hospital bed, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. The sight of you collapsing before his very eyes had propelled him into action, rushing you to the hospital in a frantic blur of fear and desperation. Now, as he waited for you to wake, he could only hope and pray that the doctors would bring him good news.

The doctor's somber presence loomed over Mingyu, a harbinger of the grim tidings that were to come. His voice, measured and grave, cut through the silence like a blade, delivering the devastating news of your deteriorating health.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Kim, but the cancerous growth in your wife's cervix has progressed significantly," the doctor intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

Mingyu's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation. "What do you mean? What cancer?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze softened as he attempted to simplify the complex medical details for Mingyu's benefit. "The cancer has spread, Mr. Kim. It's worsening, and we need to discuss our options moving forward."

Panic surged within Mingyu like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him as he grappled with the harsh reality of your diagnosis. "But she's young, she's healthy," he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "How could this happen?"

In response, the doctor guided Mingyu through the medical history recorded in your files, shedding light on the shadowy truths hidden within. "In your wife's medical records, it's noted that she experienced a miscarriage in February, likely due to complications related to the cervical tumor."

The mention of the miscarriage sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine, a cruel reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured in silence. "A miscarriage?" he echoed, the word heavy with sorrow and regret.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," the doctor confirmed gently. "I'll arrange for you to meet with the physician who has been attending to your wife. We'll discuss the next steps together."

"I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee Seokmin stated with genuine regret, his voice heavy with sympathy. He watched Mingyu closely, noting the confusion that flickered across his face before understanding settled in. Mingyu's expression shifted, revealing a mix of disbelief and realization.

Dr. Lee's regretful tone only deepened Mingyu's sense of unease. How long had you been living with this condition without even him knowing? The weight of the revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, and Mingyu felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and a profound sense of loss for the time he could never get back.

As the truth sank in, Mingyu found himself grappling with a new reality, one he hadn't anticipated when he walked through the office doors. Dr. Lee's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of staying vigilant about one's health. Mingyu nodded slowly, his mind whirring with unanswered questions and a newfound determination to confront whatever lay ahead.

"This is what her cervix looks like," Dr. Lee explained, his voice somber as he pointed to the results of your x-rays, highlighting the ominous spread of cancer. Mingyu's eyes widened as he took in the stark contrast between the current image and the last one, where the cancerous tumor had been detected.

"I already suggested Mrs. Ji to do her chemotherapy a week after her miscarriage, but I did understand why she didn't come. However, she hasn't come at all," Dr. Lee continued, his tone tinged with disappointment and concern.

Mingyu's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. He felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a sense of helplessness. His mind raced with thoughts of you, your missed appointments, and the potential consequences of your absence.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu's lips, betraying the turmoil raging within him. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a nagging question persisted, demanding to be acknowledged.

"Miscarriage?" Mingyu finally spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and desperation. It was a question that had been haunting him since he first learned of your diagnosis. Denial clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the harsh reality laid out before him any longer.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee began, his tone gentle yet firm as he sought to elucidate the complexities of your situation to Mingyu. "She had refused to undergo the abortion and chose to proceed with the pregnancy after experiencing her first bout of preeclampsia in the last week of January."

Mingyu listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the gravity of Dr. Lee's words. The choice you had made, despite the risks and uncertainties, spoke volumes about your unwavering determination and resilience.

"However," Dr. Lee continued, his voice tinged with regret, "she suffered a miscarriage on February 20th due to stress and exhaustion, which later led us to discover the presence of her tumor."

The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the fragility of life and the trials you had endured in silence. Mingyu's heart ached with the weight of the knowledge, the pain of your loss etched into the lines of his face.

As Dr. Lee moved on to the next slide, outlining potential treatment options for your condition, Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his mind racing with a flurry of emotions. Hope mingled with apprehension as he considered the possibility of a path forward, one that held the promise of healing and renewal.

With each word spoken by the doctor, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope begin to take root within him, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had clouded his thoughts. And as he looked towards the future, his resolve hardened, his determination to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

"In South Korea, we haven't had access to this technology," Dr. Lee explained, his tone tinged with a note of regret. "However, this treatment has been proven with an 80% success rate in terminating cervical cancer and is available in Ottawa."

As the words sank in, a realization dawned on Mingyu. You wanted to go to Canada for treatment all along. But why hadn't you mentioned it earlier? Why keep it a secret until now? Mingyu's mind buzzed with questions, each one a jagged edge cutting into the fragile fabric of trust between you.

Lost in his thoughts, Mingyu hadn't even realized that he had been studying your face, searching for answers in the depths of your expression. But all he found was the echo of his own confusion mirrored back at him, a silent testament to the barriers that had grown between you.

A swell of emotions threatened to overwhelm Mingyu as he grappled with the revelation, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal and longing. Had you been hiding the truth from him all along? And if so, why? The questions swirled in his mind, a relentless storm that refused to be quelled.

But amidst the turmoil, Mingyu couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited within him—the possibility of finding a solution, a lifeline in the form of treatment abroad. And as he looked towards the future, his determination hardened, his resolve to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

Regret washed over Mingyu like a torrential downpour, each drop heavy with the weight of missed opportunities and misunderstood intentions. The abortion form you had brought home—the very same document he had reacted to with such cold indifference—was now a haunting reminder of the choices you had made: to keep the baby and the assumptions he had drawn.

It dawned on Mingyu with a gut-wrenching clarity that the moment you had returned home without a baby bump, it wasn't because you had terminated the pregnancy, but because you had suffered a miscarriage. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying his senses with the stark truth of your pain.

Tears welled up in Mingyu's eyes, his vision blurred as he grappled with the possibility that his actions, his lack of understanding and support, may have played a role in your suffering. The thought pierced through the armor of his pride, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the raw emotions that surged within him.

Guilt clawed at Mingyu's chest, a relentless monster gnawing at his conscience as he wrestled with the consequences of his ignorance. Had he been too quick to judge, too blind to see the depth of your struggles? The realization gnawed at him, a bitter pill to swallow as he confronted the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

In that moment, as tears silently trailed down his cheeks, Mingyu found himself consumed by a sense of profound remorse—a longing to turn back the hands of time and rewrite the narrative, to be the partner you needed in your darkest hour. But as the weight of his regrets settled upon him, Mingyu knew that he could only move forward, armed with the newfound clarity of hindsight and a determination to make amends.

*

"How far along are you?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense air of the room as he sat confidently in front of your mother, the formidable CEO of JIS Corp. She exuded an aura of sharpness and rigidity, her piercing gaze sizing him up with every word she spoke.

You sat nervously beside Mingyu, acutely aware of the weight of your mother's scrutiny as she fired off a series of offensive questions, her demeanor dripping with arrogance. Mingyu, however, remained unfazed, his posture exuding confidence as he mirrored your mother's demeanor, ready to engage in the contest of wills that lay before him.

"I'm in my fourth month," you answered quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure under your mother's intense scrutiny.

As your mother settled into her seat across from you and Mingyu, her body language radiated dominance, a stark contrast to Mingyu's calm and collected demeanor. Despite the tension that hung in the air, Mingyu pressed on, determined to make a favorable impression on your mother, the woman who held the key to your future.

Your mother asked you to leave her alone with him. Mingyu sent you an assurance nodd before you rose from your seat and walked away to the kitchen.

"You know Y/n is not my daughter?" your mother's question hung in the air, a challenge disguised as a statement.

Mingyu nodded calmly, his gaze meeting your mother's without hesitation. "I'm aware of that," he replied evenly, "but she was legally adopted by your husband before he married you. So while she may not be biologically related to you, she is legally your daughter."

"What do you want, Kim Mingyu?" your mother's voice dripped with skepticism, her tone a clear indication that she was not easily swayed.

Mingyu's response was swift and direct. "Your resort label is facing bankruptcy," he began, his voice steady and confident. "I propose a merger with my own label. You'll gain financial stability and a positive reputation, while also giving Y/n her rightful share and putting an end to your surveillance of her."

As your mother considered his offer, Mingyu continued, his tone unwavering. "After marrying me, Y/n will gain social power and influence. She'll be able to hold JIS Corp accountable if they continue to deny her rights as an heir."

Your mother hesitated for a moment before raising two fingers in a gesture of negotiation. "Two years. Two years of merger, and then I'll hand her the share."

Mingyu shook his head firmly. "A year," he countered, his resolve unwavering.

"Two," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, shaking his head once more. "Then forget it. My resort label is too valuable to be compromised. And besides, with Y/n's newfound social status, she'll have the power to hold JIS Corp accountable."

Your mother's expression softened slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching as she weighed her options. "Okay," she relented at last, "a year is enough."

*

As Sora finally drifted off to sleep, her tear-stained cheeks still hauntingly fresh in your mind, you tiptoed out of the bedroom with a sense of quiet relief. Closing the door behind you with practiced care, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the day's emotional turmoil settling heavily upon your shoulders.

Today marked Sora's third birthday, a joyous occasion overshadowed by the absence of her father, who was miles away on a business trip. The sound of her plaintive cries had echoed through the house, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in pursuit of success and stability.

Making your way to the kitchen island, you reached for a bottle of mineral water, the cool liquid offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of your thoughts. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, your work as a full-time writer left unfinished as you devoted every waking moment to comforting and caring for your daughter.

As a writer, your focus had shifted towards women's and healthy lifestyle topics, a reflection of your own journey towards wellness and empowerment. Even during your treatment in Ottawa, you had continued your studies in creative writing, determined to pursue your passion despite the challenges that lay in your path.

Returning to South Korea after completing your treatment, you had been met with a new opportunity—a promotion to Chief Editorial at the Seoul branch of a prestigious magazine. It was a testament to your resilience and determination, a testament to the strength that had carried you through the darkest of times.

But as you stood in the quiet of the kitchen, the echoes of Sora's cries still lingering in the air, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you. Balancing motherhood with a demanding career was no easy feat, but with each passing day, you found strength in the love you shared with your daughter, a love that knew no bounds and blood, fueled your determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

The sound of the door's password being unlocked drew your attention away from your thoughts, causing you to rise from your seat with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. Your husband had returned home, his weary figure a stark contrast to the usual air of confidence and charm that surrounded him. Yet, despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he still managed to exude a quiet sense of grace and poise.

As he entered the house, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, his disheveled appearance doing nothing to diminish his innate handsomeness. With a gentle smile, you stepped forward to greet him, offering a comforting hand to help him shed the burdensome weight of his suit and tie.

"I miss you so much," he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a palpable longing that mirrored your own.

"How about Sora?" you inquired, your concern for your daughter never far from your mind even in the midst of your reunion with your husband.

A flicker of realization crossed his features as he almost forgot about his sweet little cupcake, Sora. "Is she asleep already?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of guilt at the oversight.

You nodded in response, offering him an exhausted yet understanding smile. The trials of the day had taken their toll on both of you, but in this moment, as you stood close together, the warmth of your shared love enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the strength and resilience that bound your family together.

"I had to read her three books before she finally fell asleep. So don't you ever try to wake her up," you warned him playfully, a hint of exhaustion still evident in your voice as you recounted the bedtime routine with Sora. Despite the weariness, there was a sense of fondness in your words, a testament to the love and dedication you poured into your role as a mother.

Your husband let out a soft chuckle at your admonishment, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace as he pulled you close. His presence was a comforting balm against the strains of the day, offering solace in the midst of the chaos that had defined your evening.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "The seminar went longer than expected. My flight was delayed, and I had to book another one to get home quicker. But I'm still this late."

You offered a reassuring smile, your hand gently tapping his back in a gesture of understanding and support. "There's always tomorrow, babe," you whispered, your words a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, time was but a fleeting commodity compared to the enduring bond you shared as a family.

Your husband's touch was gentle yet firm as he pushed your body back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. "Tomorrow is February 20th," he whispered softly, the weight of the date hanging heavily between you.

You nodded in acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and longing as you contemplated the significance of the day. It was a day etched into your memory, a painful reminder of the loss you had endured and the scars that still lingered.

"Do you want to introduce Sora to him?" your husband asked gently, his voice a tender caress against the quiet of the room. "I think she's ready for that."

A surge of emotion welled up within you at the suggestion, a bittersweet blend of hope and trepidation. It had been a journey marked by grief and healing, a journey you had traversed with Sora by your side every step of the way.

"I'd love to," you replied softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I think... I'm ready too."

Your husband's eyes softened with pride and admiration as he gazed at you, his words a soothing balm to the wounds that still lingered within your heart. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "You're doing so great."

In that moment, as you stood together on the precipice of a new chapter, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within you—a glimmer of light amidst the darkness that had once threatened to consume you whole. And with your husband by your side, you knew that whatever tomorrow may bring, you would face it together, united in love and resilience.

*

Your steps faltered as you heard Mingyu engaged in conversation with someone inside his office. You had come to discuss something with him this morning, but now your attention was fully captured by the voices drifting out through the open door.

"You knocked somebody?" A deeper voice queried, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Hm... Not entirely false! Yes, but she's not just somebody. She's someone I care about," Mingyu's voice replied, sending a ripple of confusion and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's pretty odd to hear that you care about someone. Who is she? Do I know her?" The other person's voice sounded vaguely familiar, prompting you to hazard a guess at their identity.

"She's Seungcheol hyung's secretary," Mingyu revealed, dropping your name into the conversation without preamble.

There was a pregnant pause before your name was spoken again, this time with a note of surprise. "Ji Y/n?"

"Yeah, she reminds me of her," Mingyu's voice confirmed, sending a jolt of uncertainty coursing through you.

"That's not enough reason to marry her, Kim Mingyu," the other person's voice retorted, their words hanging heavy in the air.

Your mind raced with a flurry of emotions as you struggled to process Mingyu's revelation. The realization that he saw shades of someone else in you, someone you didn't even know, left you feeling adrift in a sea of confusion and doubt.

As snippets of memories flooded your mind—moments of tenderness and affection shared between you and Mingyu over the past few weeks—a pang of sadness gripped your heart. Had his gestures of romance and chivalry been driven by genuine affection, or were they merely echoes of a love he once knew?

Caught between the pull of your growing feelings for Mingyu and the unsettling revelation of his comparison, you found yourself at a crossroads. What should you do? You had fallen for him, despite the uncertainty that now clouded your heart. But could you truly build a future with someone who saw you as a reflection of another?

As the tall figure emerged from Mingyu's office, you felt a knot form in your stomach. He paused as his gaze locked onto yours, and you rose from your seat, attempting to maintain a composed facade despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"You're Ji Y/n? Seungcheol hyung's secretary?" His voice was deep and authoritative, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his tone as he addressed you.

You offered him a polite smile and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, that's correct. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon."

"I've seen you around, but this is our first time talking," Mr. Jeon remarked, his demeanor friendly yet reserved. "Nice to meet you too. Let's be more friendly in the future."

With those words, Mr. Jeon bid you farewell, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his presence and the implications of his unexpected encounter. Mentally preparing yourself for what lay ahead, you took a deep breath and steeling yourself for the challenges that awaited you.

As you entered Mingyu's office, your mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. With each step, you reminded yourself of the decisions that lay before you, the choices that would shape your future.

Keep the baby.

Get your share.

Have a happy life.

The words echoed in your mind, a mantra of determination and resolve as you braced yourself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead.

To be continued.

[jewish-sideblog]

There’s a reason why the western goyishe left is so preoccupied with labeling people as Zionists, and why there’s so much hypocrisy coming out of these spaces night now. It’s because there’s a broader problem regarding leftist views on violence. There’s a belief that violent cruelty is only morally reprehensible if it is forced upon the “innocent”, and that any and all violence is justified against perceived wrongdoers.

It’s the reason why we always hear that“Six million innocent Jews” died in the Shoah, as if six million dead in a genocide isn’t worthy of condemnation on its own. It’s the reason why debates on the internet about oppression always focus on innocence as opposed to violence.

“George Floyd was innocent,” they say, “there’s no evidence he paid with a counterfeit bill!” The left and the right spent endless time debating that three years ago. Why does it matter if Floyd had intentionally used a counterfeit bill or not? Hell, even if he ran a counterfeiting empire— death by suffocation is not a just punishment for counterfeiting. But for many leftists, a lack of “innocence” would somehow validate the unjust violence he suffered and died from.

“There is no excuse for bombing a hospital,” is the response when they think Israel bombed a hospital. But when it turns out that Hamas actually bombed the hospital, suddenly there is an excuse. “There is no excuse for ethnic cleansing,” is what they say when Israel cleanses Gazans. Meanwhile, they maintain their full support for Hamas, whose stated goal is to ethnically cleanse Jews from the Middle East. Excuses are only offered to those deemed innocent. They view Palestinians, even Hamas, as universally innocent. Israelis and Zionists, even children, are seen as universally guilty.

That’s why the antisemitic stream of the anti-Israeli narrative clings so tightly two ideals: That all Israelis are colonists, no matter what, and that Hamas isn’t actually a terrorist organization committing war crimes. If either of those ideological columns fail, then either the presumption of universal Palestinian innocence fails, or the presumption of universal Israeli guilt fails. Then leftists start asking themselves questions:

Have I been in the wrong? Have I been antisemitic? Am I innocent in all this? And if I’m not, does that mean that violence against me could be justified? Most will choose cognitive dissonance and reaffirm their harmful beliefs, rather than face the answer to any of those questions.

But the truth is that innocence doesn’t have an effect on the justification of violence. There isn’t an excuse for bombing a hospital, intentionally or accidentally. There isn’t an excuse for ethnic cleansings of Arabs or Jews or anybody else. Violent oppression is still bad when it happens to harm people you disagree with. Violent oppression is still bad when it harms bad people.

[sha-lyuzar]

Loghain Mac Tir is my comfort character. It is not often a pleasant thing to admit, and my reasons are complex, and personal, but fundamentally what makes me so attached to him is how human he is. That kind of depth and complexity is what made me fall in love with Dragon Age in the first place. He’s not just a “noble hero” or an “evil villain,” but a fully realized person who embodies good and evil, and everything inbetween, who is shaped by his past and his deeply personal convictions, his flaws, his fears, his fierce love for Ferelden, and, most importantly his tragic mistakes, that lost him everything, and that is what makes him feel so real to me.

He doesn’t have an easy narrative arc. He’s not driven by simple greed, cruelty, or even by misguided idealism. He’s a survivor with wounds that never fully healed, and those wounds shape the way he sees the world and interprets threats. Every heinous decision and tragic mistake is a direct consequence of his loyalty to Ferelden and Maric, and his willingness to bear the burden of horrific choice. He has been bleeding for his cause since he was a child, and it has turned him into the same kind of cruel and cold tyrant He fought against in the first place, and watching him struggle to hold true to his values, and eventually abandon them, as his path grows darker and more isolating, is this profoundly tragic thing that to me is infinitely more compelling than a classic Hero's Journey.

What Loghain did in the Alienage is deeply disturbing and inexcusable. Using Tevinter slavers to control and exploit the elves is one of the darkest points in his character arc. It’s a choice that reveals just how far he’s willing to go to maintain control and secure his idea of Ferelden’s “independence,” even at the cost of his own morality, so He lets in a foreign power to abduct and subjugate the citizens he claims to be protecting. It unveils the extremes of his desperation and paranoia, because in his mind, he’s protecting Ferelden, but in reality, he’s perpetrating the very kind of oppression he once fought against. It is dark, it is horrific, it is unforgiveable, and that is the whole point.

He has to confront the devastation he’s caused, and he can’t simply brush it aside as a “necessary evil.”. If he joins the Grey Wardens, his path involves acknowledging these grave mistakes, taking responsibility, and finding a way to live with the guilt. There is no reconciliation for his actions, his fear and trauma may explain but never excuse what he did. There is no easy way out. Loghain is stained with the blood he shed forever. He has to live with having failed, with the compounded weight of his actions and regrets, and, if he joins the Wardens, he isn't even granted the mercy of a quick and clean death, and instead is exiled from the country he poured everything he had into.

And doesn't this resonate? Does this not perfectly reflect the difficult reality of being human? How people can be fiercely protective, deeply flawed, and driven by complicated motivations, and that these qualities make them more worthy of understanding, not less? Loghain’s arc speaks to me on such a deep and personal level, especially as someone who has been battling the demons of trauma. His story is a vivid reminder that trauma doesn’t always make us better people, but exacerbates our struggles and can lead us down dark paths. i see parts of my own struggles in Loghain, i understand his pain, his fear, the choices his past self would loathe him for, and the gnawing self-hate, regret and grief.

Trauma twists our intentions like that. Instead of guiding us toward empathy and understanding, it clouds our judgment, and pushes us to make decisions we later regret, and become versions of ourselves we hate. My reality of trauma has not been this character building experience, the way it is often depicted in media, but something harrowing and life-altering, that still poisons me, even years later. But seeing a character lose all tether to himself and get lost in his demons is a tale worth telling, and an experience that still grips me, even 15 years after playing DA:O for the first time. Seeing Loghain live through rock bottom in DA:O, and then, ten years later in DA:I find purpose and whatever semblance of peace is possible in his circumstance, is something that gives me comfort. It is deeply personal, and i keep this unforgiveable and irredeemable, this grief-stricken and regret-filled man, this complicated and multifaceted character deep in my heart.

There are spoilers for datv under the cut. Major spoilers about the end of the game. If you have not played through yet, please don't be tempted to look. i thought i would be fine with spoilers, but i am not. You have been warned.

All of this is rendered moot by the ending of datv. By a throwaway line. i have been spoilered by this online, and have not reached this point in the game myself, yet, but it leaves me feeling a lot of ways, and it hits me hard. It feels like everything i found relatable in his struggle, everything that made him so human, is suddenly taken away. If his actions weren’t truly his own, and he was being puppeteered by old gods magic, then what does that mean for the weight of his choices? It feels like a betrayal of everything that made up his character, a character who has grappled with his trauma and made terrible choices, yes, but ones that were driven by his own will and conviction, always.

The complexity of his journey, the depth of his remorse, and the struggle for a new purpose, all become overshadowed by this new twist. It threatens to erase the beautiful, painful, and human truth of what it means to confront one’s demons and seek understanding in the aftermath of suffering, what it means to reassess and take accountability for your actions and do the hard, dirty, and thankless work of bettering the irredeemable, bit by bit, piece by piece, so that one day you may draw a breath and feel just a bit of that weight eased.

But no, he was just a victim all along. He has no agency, his self-actualisation is lost on him, he was never responsible for himself. It feels like one of Dragon Age's most complex characters has been flattened down into cardboard.

[merwgue]

As a 100% Palestinian reader, I cannot help but draw unsettling parallels between A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) and the Israel-Palestine conflict. And before anyone jumps in to say, "It's just fantasy, stop politicizing it," let me point out that fiction, especially high fantasy, has always drawn from real-world politics, whether the author intends it or not. In the case of ACOTAR, Sarah J. Maas has created a world where the power dynamics between Velaris and the Hewn City uncannily reflect the realities of Israel and Palestine—and frankly, it’s disturbing.

Let’s dig into the specifics.

Velaris vs. Hewn City: The Clear Israel-Palestine Parallel

In ACOTAR, Velaris is depicted as a glorious utopia—an elite city hidden from the rest of the world, full of freedom, creativity, and unending peace. It’s where the privileged live in perfect harmony, far removed from the chaos and conflict in the outside world. Now, look at how Israel is often framed: a “beacon of democracy” in the Middle East, a place where "civilization" thrives, while the rest of the region is portrayed as chaotic and violent.

Then there’s Hewn City, the dark, dangerous underbelly that exists under Rhysand’s rule. It’s described as a place full of corruption, violence, and depravity, where the people are so unruly and savage that they must be kept at arm’s length, locked away to protect Velaris and its precious, innocent inhabitants. This mirrors the common portrayal of Palestine in Western media as a place full of violence, where the people are oppressed because, according to the dominant narrative, they bring it on themselves. The inhabitants of Hewn City are viewed as a threat, just as Palestinians are often seen as the aggressors, needing to be kept in check for Israel’s “safety.”

Rhysand’s control over Hewn City reflects the very real power imbalance in Israel’s occupation of Palestine. In the books, the people of Hewn City are confined to their dark, hidden underground realm, much like Palestinians are restricted to Gaza and the West Bank by Israeli checkpoints, walls, and permits. They cannot freely access the beauty and prosperity of Velaris, and the few times they are allowed into the city, they are treated as dangerous outsiders who must be closely monitored. It’s the same system of segregation and restriction that exists in Israel and Palestine today.

"Safety" and the Need for Control: The Dangerous Narrative

One of the main justifications Maas uses for keeping Hewn City locked away is the trauma of Mor, who was abused by her family in the Hewn City. Let me be clear—abuse is horrific, and no one should have to experience what Mor did. But to use her trauma as a reason to vilify an entire city and keep its people under strict control? It’s an incredibly troubling justification, one that mirrors the very rhetoric used by Israel to justify its occupation and restrictions on Palestinians.

Israel often cites the need for “security” and “safety” as a reason for its continued control over Palestinian territories. The narrative is that Palestinians are inherently violent, prone to terror, and therefore must be locked behind walls and checkpoints for Israel’s protection. In ACOTAR, the people of Hewn City are portrayed in a similar way: dangerous, aggressive, and in need of control. Velaris is the “good” city that must be protected at all costs, and Hewn City is the sacrifice made to ensure that peace. Sound familiar?

Mor’s trauma is used as an excuse to justify Rhysand’s iron grip over Hewn City, much like the trauma of Israelis is used to justify the occupation of Palestine. The people of Hewn City are collectively punished for the actions of a few, just as Palestinians are collectively punished for the actions of extremists. The fact that Velaris thrives in peace while Hewn City remains locked away in the dark reflects the very real power imbalance in Israel and Palestine, where one group’s safety and prosperity are maintained at the expense of another’s freedom.

Rhysand: The Benevolent Dictator with a Savior Complex

Let’s talk about Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, who controls both Velaris and the Hewn City. Maas portrays him as this noble, benevolent ruler—someone who’s doing his best to maintain peace and safety for his people. He’s painted as the ultimate savior, the one who can juggle the pressures of keeping Velaris prosperous while keeping the “dangerous” people of Hewn City under control. But beneath this facade of benevolence lies a savior complex that echoes the very rhetoric used by Israel to justify its control over Palestinian land.

Rhysand’s rule over Velaris and the Hewn City isn’t just about keeping peace—it’s about maintaining power. Velaris thrives on the backs of the people of Hewn City, who are kept locked away for the benefit of the elite. Similarly, Israel’s success and security often come at the cost of Palestinian freedom. Rhysand’s grip on Hewn City reflects Israel’s grip on Palestine: it’s about control, power, and making sure that the oppressed stay oppressed while the privileged thrive.

And let’s not forget the fact that Maas tries to make us believe that Rhysand is the “good guy” in all of this. Much like how Western media often portrays Israel as the victim, Maas paints Rhysand as someone who’s just doing what needs to be done to keep his people safe. But the reality is that his rule is built on subjugation and control, just as Israel’s dominance over Palestine is built on occupation and oppression. Rhysand’s actions, like Israel’s, are justified in the name of “security,” but at what cost? The people of Hewn City are treated like criminals, locked away from the light, while Velaris basks in its utopian glow.

The Hewn City’s Lack of Freedom: A Reflection of Palestine’s Struggle

The people of Hewn City have no freedom. They are not allowed to live their lives in peace, to enjoy the beauty of Velaris, or to have the same opportunities as the citizens of the Night Court’s capital. They are kept in the shadows, oppressed, and forced to submit to Rhysand’s rule. This mirrors the very real struggles of Palestinians, who are confined to small, restricted areas, denied basic freedoms, and subjected to daily humiliation at checkpoints.

In ACOTAR, Maas paints Hewn City as a dangerous place that must be kept separate from Velaris for the safety of the people. But what she’s really doing is justifying oppression in the name of security—something that Palestinians have been dealing with for decades. The walls and barriers that exist between Velaris and Hewn City are no different from the walls and checkpoints that divide Israel and Palestine, keeping one group oppressed while the other thrives.

Conclusion: The Troubling Parallels in ACOTAR

As a Palestinian reader, it’s impossible to ignore the troubling parallels between ACOTAR and the Israel-Palestine conflict. Whether Maas intended it or not, the dynamics between Velaris and the Hewn City reflect real-world systems of oppression where one group’s freedom is built on the subjugation of another. The people of Hewn City, like Palestinians, are treated as dangerous outsiders, locked away from the utopian world of Velaris in the name of “safety.”

Rhysand’s rule mirrors the real-world power imbalance between Israel and Palestine, where one group’s prosperity is built on the suffering of another. The justification of security and trauma is used to oppress an entire population, while the elite thrive in peace and prosperity. It’s a narrative that’s all too familiar, and seeing it play out in fantasy form is both exhausting and infuriating.

ACOTAR may be fantasy, but its themes and dynamics are very real—and as a Palestinian reader, it’s hard not to see the parallels between the people of Hewn City and my own people. At the end of the day, Maas’ portrayal of Velaris and Hewn City reflects the same troubling power dynamics we see in the real world, where one group’s peace is built on another’s oppression.

Also I have the right to talk about this since it's MY country being invaded and MY people getting killed and MY family Is also there so, don't you dare comment something stupid

[qqueenofhades]

I also think leftists view liberals and centrists as worse than right wingers because liberals and centrists maintain the status quo, thus prolonging capitalism. In the case of accelerationists, they think a revolution is only possible if people are desperate enough to want one and so they often align themselves with right wingers who they know will make things worse (see MAGA communism as one example). To them it doesn't matter if the fascists will take power because they believe fascism always fails and communism will naturally follow. All the deaths will be worth it in the end.

I hit ask before I finished. I meant to add in parentheses that all of that is of course an oversimplification, but those are pretty much the arguments I saw in multiple leftists subreddit, on tumblr and twitter in the past few months. I know leftists irl are more normal.

See, this is what I mean when I point out that Online Leftists have become just as much of a zero-sum radicalized death cult as the MAGA Trumpists. They're willing to embrace any atrocity, global disaster, terrible people, and massive death toll as long as they think it'll bring their Shining Ideology (TM) to fruition, and then of course this will last a thousand years and never be changed and humans will bow down as a group to this Shining Ideology and destroying everything will be Worth It In The End. Apparently. This is complete ahistorical genocidal nihilistic gibberish, where any progress to fix the world and make a better future for the billions of people alive right now is actually Bad because What About the Glorious Revolution?!?! It is Totally Real! It Will Work! O Bow To Us Great Keyboard Warrior Dipshits! If You Don't Want to Violently Die With Everyone You Love, You Are Part of the Problem!!!!!

Now, I don't know about you, but I sure as fuck don't feel like sacrificing everyone and everything is a great tradeoff for whatever Communist Utopia these cosplaying pissbabies think would be the ultimate fruition of their labors. It's lazy, it's dangerous, it's stupid, it excuses them from ever having to do any effort to make the world better right now, and it feeds into the worst impulses and movements of humanity and the same mistakes that have been repeated in history over and over. This is basically what the late 19th-century and early 20th-century Communists thought: people would rise up in a Great Socialist Revolution, overthrow capitalism and fascism and every other bad thing in the world (which would somehow never ever come back, I guess) and then the future would be bright and shining forever. In practice, it resulted in tons of bloody and pointless deaths, a lot of failure, and some communist regimes that were absolutely zero improvement whatsoever on the oppressive systems they had replaced (and often were in fact MORE oppressive, but online leftists don't listen to people who actually grew up in these regimes and are not eager to see them come back). And guess what? Capitalism and fascism were not actually defeated Once and For All Time! Because yet again, you cannot just Violently Revolute your way to Ultimate Morally Pure Power once and for all, kill the Right People (aka everyone) and then everything is fixed forever. If it was ever going to work, it would have already done so. It has not. This fallacy is the cause of pretty much all the evil in human history. So. Yeah.

[michaelsfavgirl]

first kiss

Pairing: Captain EO x fem!reader

Synopsis: You confess to EO that you've never kissed anyone before. Rather than judging, he guides you through your first kiss with care and tenderness.

Tags: fluff, smooching

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Wanted this to be a short drabble at first but I'm incapable of writing blurbs so here we are

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The control room of the spaceship buzzes with anticipation as you step inside, greeted by a chorus of voices rising and falling in excited chatter. Your crewmates, a diverse bunch of characters with their own quirks and specialties, are huddled together, discussing their plans for the upcoming mission to confront the evil Supreme Leader.

Their voices bounce off the metallic walls, creating a cacophony of sound that threatens to overwhelm your senses. You raise your voice above the din, attempting to restore order amidst the chaos.

"Alright, everyone, settle down!" you call out, your words slicing through the chatter like a knife. "We need to focus and come up with a solid plan. But keep it down! We don't want Captain EO catching wind of our scheming."

The crew falls into a tense silence at your command, exchanging nervous glances as they remember the consequences of attracting Captain EO's attention. He may be understanding, but when it comes to maintaining discipline aboard his ship, he doesn't tolerate any nonsense.

"But we can't afford to underestimate the Supreme Leader's forces," Fuzzball interjects, his voice tinged with urgency. "We need to be prepared for anything."

Pilot Geek nods in agreement, his expression serious. "Our weapons need to be primed and ready, and our defenses must be impenetrable. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

You nod in solemn agreement, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "We're not just here to engage in battle," you remind them. "Our mission is to liberate the oppressed people of this planet and bring an end to the Supreme Leader's reign of terror."

The crew murmurs their assent, their determination shining through despite the palpable tension in the room. They know the risks involved, but they're willing to face them head-on in the name of justice.

"We also need to gather intel on the enemy's defenses," you add, your mind already racing with strategic possibilities. "We can't make a move until we know exactly what we're up against."

As the crew delves into discussion, you can't help but feel a swell of pride in their resilience and camaraderie. Despite their differences, they're united in their resolve to make a difference in the galaxy. But just as the planning session gains momentum, the door slides open, and Captain EO strides into the room, his presence commanding attention.

You exchange a quick glance with him, noting the subtle softening of his gaze before he turns his focus to the crew.

"What's all the commotion about?" Captain EO's voice pierces through the chaotic buzz of the control room, his tone calm yet commanding.

The crew members exchange nervous glances, their voices trailing off into an uneasy silence. Sensing the tension, you step forward, taking on the role of mediator, though you can't bring yourself to meet Captain EO's gaze directly. "We were just discussing our strategy for when we reach the planet, Captain," you explain, your words careful and measured. "We want to ensure we're fully prepared for whatever may come our way."

Captain EO nods in understanding, his expression inscrutable. "Good," he replies, his tone carrying a hint of gravity. "But we must proceed with caution. We cannot afford to disappoint Commander Bog again." The crew members nod in solemn agreement, their resolve strengthened by their leader's words.

Before you can say anything further, Captain EO interjects, his voice taking on a decisive tone. "Excuse us, please," he commands, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours as he guides you out of the bustling control room. The crew members exchange knowing looks, their smiles evident as they return to their tasks, their previous conversation momentarily forgotten in the wake of Captain EO's presence.

As the two of you walk in silence down the corridor, you can feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, sending a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins. With each step, the anticipation builds, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally reaching his private office, he locks the door behind you, ensuring your privacy from any potential interruptions. The room is bathed in a soft, ambient light, casting shadows that dance across the walls and adding to the intimate atmosphere.

Alone together, EO's stoic demeanor begins to soften, replaced by a warmth and longing that reflects in his eyes as he tenderly cups your face. His forehead pressed against yours, a silent reassurance of his presence and protection. In his embrace, you feel yourself relax, the tension of the day melting away.

"Rough day?" he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of your thoughts.

You nod wearily, leaning into him as he draws comforting circles on your back. His chuckle is soft and melodic, a sound that brings a sense of peace to your troubled mind. "It's alright," he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "You're safe here with me." And in that moment, surrounded by his warmth and reassurance, you allow yourself to exhale, surrendering to the solace he offers.

As you pull away from each other, the air between you crackles with an unspoken tension. His gaze lingers on your eyes, a silent inquiry dancing in their depths, searching for something he can't quite name. There's a moment of hesitation, a wordless exchange passing between you, before his attention drifts down to your lips. Your heart quickens at the intensity of his gaze, a flutter of anticipation coursing through your veins. Instinctively, you turn your head to the side, breaking the connection before it can deepen.

Concern flashes across his features as he registers your sudden withdrawal. "What's wrong?" he asks softly, his voice tinged with worry. "Did I do something to upset you?" It's a question that's been weighing on his mind for some time now, as he's noticed your tendency to retreat whenever things start to become more intimate.

You sigh, feeling a pang of guilt at causing him any distress. Before you can fully disengage from his embrace, he tightens his arms around you, refusing to let you slip away. "Please, sweetheart, tell me," he coaxes, his tone gentle and reassuring.

You hesitate, unsure of how to articulate the swirling thoughts in your mind. Finally, you gather the courage to admit, "I've never kissed anyone before."

A small smile tugs at EO's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your confession. He chuckles softly, finding humor in your nervousness. "Is that all?" he teases, his tone light and affectionate.

You pout playfully and nudge his chest, a mix of embarrassment and indignation bubbling within you. "It's not funny," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

His smile softens, and he reaches out to tenderly stroke your cheek. "I'm sorry," he apologizes sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand soothing against your skin. "It's okay," you reply softly, meeting his gaze. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing."

His expression is filled with understanding. "That's alright," he reassures you, his voice gentle. "I can show you."

A surge of warmth floods your chest at his offer, a fluttering sensation dancing in your stomach. "Really?" you whisper, barely able to contain your excitement.

He nods, a tender smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he replies, his eyes brimming with sincerity. Your heart races at his words, the promise of his guidance filling you with a sense of anticipation and newfound trust in him.

EO's touch is like a gentle breeze, calming your nerves and soothing your racing heart as he cups your face once more. His thumb strokes your cheek softly, a comforting gesture that sends warmth spreading through you like sunshine on a cool morning. "Okay, sweetheart," he says softly, his voice a melodic whisper. "We're going to start with something simple, just quick little pecks, nothing too crazy. I don't want to overwhelm you."

Gratitude floods your chest at his patient and understanding words, and you nod in response, feeling a rush of affection for him. As he continues to explain, your attention wavers, captivated by the rhythmic movement of his lips as he speaks. Your gaze fixates on his mouth, hungry and curious, as you imagine the sensation of kissing him.

A soft chuckle interrupts your reverie, and you blink, realizing you've been lost in your thoughts. "Sorry," you mumble sheepishly, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"It's alright," he reassures you with a warm smile that lights up his eyes. "Let's try this again, shall we?" You nod eagerly, determined to focus this time. Closing your eyes as he instructs, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling nerves.

You feel his breath brushing against your lips as he moves closer, and then his lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It's a simple press of lips, fleeting yet filled with tenderness and warmth. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as the kiss sends a delightful shiver down your spine. You tremble slightly in his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions coursing through you like a river in full flood.

Sensing your nervousness, EO pulls away slightly, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "You did so well, sweetheart." You lean into his embrace, finding solace in his reassuring presence. His arms around you feel like a fortress, offering protection from the uncertainties of the universe.

"Thank you," you whisper softly, feeling a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. "For everything."

He smiles warmly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Anytime," he replies softly, his voice filled with unwavering devotion and affection. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

In that moment, cradled in EO's embrace, you feel a sense of peace wash over you like a gentle tide. With him by your side, you know you can weather any storm that comes your way. And as you rest your head against his chest, you realize that you've found something truly special in him—a love that transcends space and time.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @youronlyonenini @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw

[dotthings]

The maga-packed US Supreme Court decided this week

* to protect bigotry under the guise of religious beliefs

* ended Affirmative Action

* struck down Biden’s plan to extend studen loan forgiveness

This is codified bigotry. If your beliefs require you to be a bigot, it’s time to question your beliefs. Bigotry being legally protected is pushing the US back to the Jim Crow era. The decisions regarding Affirmative Action and student loan forgiveness is part of the deliberate, systemized goal of maintaining oppression perpetrated by powerful, rich white people. Making it even more difficult for anyone but privileged, powerful white people to get an education and opportunities, to be able to afford college. It’s an attempt to keep the deck stacked against everyone but themselves. It’s anti-egalitarian. The far right goes to war daily against LGBTQ people, against PoC, against women. In supreme court decisions, in the vile bigoted laws they try to enact locally. In their public statements. In their tweets

Seeing the first amendment being waved around as an excuse to allow protected bigotry makes me sick to my stomach.

Call it what it is. FASCISM. BIGOTRY. DISCRIMINATION. CLASS WAR.

Please vote. It matters who is in office, on the national and local level.

[gothhabiba]

White people are allowed to use appeals to 'trauma' to defend and explain their (and other white people's) behaviour—including racist behaviour—in ways that people of colour are not. 'Trauma' in this formulation (that is, a mitigating circumstance that can be appealed to—not just to explain and excuse whatever behaviour—but to make that behaviour appear healthful and beneficial on an individual or societal level)—this kind of 'trauma' is something that only white people can possess.

People of colour—in a usamerican context we ought to be talking primarily about Indigenous & African americans—are not subjects or people who can be traumatised. True, they're not thought of as people whose trauma matters—but, more than this, they're not thought of as having the kind of mind that can be traumatised in the first place.

They don't have the kind of mind that can suffer and then 'heal' from 'trauma'—a mind at its core healthy and sanitary, but corruptible—a mind flexible enough to rejuvenate or regenerate itself. Regenerating potential, complex individual psychology, a 'clean' state prior to trauma that can be corrupted and ought to be protected from corruption—these things belong to whiteness alone.

These are the aspects of whiteness that make an appeal to corrupted white childhood especially powerful for reactionary and progressive people alike. The white child is in the ultimate state of innocent, fragile purity and simultaneous elastic rigour. The white child's purity must not be challenged or complicated (thus ideas such as 'white children ought to be shielded from the realities of racism which their peers of colour are presumably already dealing with')—but white people can, once corrupted, still become productive citizens of a healthy national body politic, given sufficient attention to the 'recovery' of that previous un-traumatised state.

This 'recovery' employs discourses of medicine and psychology as sanitation and the (white) mind both as originally pure and robust, and as recoverable and regenerative enough to re-attain that original state. These discourses also posit that white psychological recovery serves a national function. The converse is also true; marginalised white people's attempts to address their marginalisation frequently invoke nationalist imagery and nationalist myth-making (in shoring up a sense of personal identity as a white member of the nation; in claiming the 'right' as a white member of the nation not to be marginalised or oppressed).

So Indigenous & African americans cannot be traumatised. they can be foreign (yeah, foreign, however counterintuitive it sounds) antagonists and villains, collective hoards, drains on resources, sources of labour, the tragic dead, or tragic victims, but even in the more apparently sympathetic of these formulations they are not psychologically individual or complex enough to be traumatised as people. They especially cannot be thought of as traumatisable or regenerative as populations, since that would entail an acknowledgement of usamerican colonial wrongdoing and the admission of a possible future not predicated on white hegemony.

If they are 'traumatised' populations it is a kind of trauma that is tragic but irrecoverable, or else self-imposed and self-perpetuated; they don't have a mind, an individual, psychologically complex mind, the kind of mind whose individual experiences matter and ought all to be taken into account and sympathised with in understanding behaviour, the kind of mind that justifies and necessitates any action taken in order to maintain its hygiene. Their minds are neither originally 'pure' (such that they must be protected from trauma) nor robust and elastic enough to recover (such that they can ever really be healthy members of the us national / political body).

An appeal to white trauma, and especially to white childhood trauma, is just sort of a sympathy magic bullet that the stars rarely align enough to allow a person of colour to discursively counter ime. "Colonialism, slavery, and encountering racism traumatise people" is not admissible evidence to these people. The white person engaging in racist behaviour can be excused and pitied—even have their behaviour be thought of as healthful and beneficial—on the basis of their trauma. To the extent that people of colour are harmed by this behaviour, it simply doesn't matter.

[v-arbellanaris]

PLEASE share about the Cullen Cult Arc

sighs. this is my second time writing this post ;~; literally why does the autosave option exist if tumblr doesnt actually bother to autosave anything, i dont fucking get it.

this is going to be much briefer than the original post i wrote because im still REELING over how tumblr just ate the entire fucking post. its fucking gone. and idk if i have the energy or mental capacity rn to rewrite the whole thing. basically, this arc - which is the arc i developed for him in vee verse - is the arc i think cullen should've had in dai.

firstly, i'm not retconning anything he said or did in dao or da2. this is because those things serve a narrative purpose. cullen is a good templar - that's the entire crux of the problem. he exists in these two games as a narrative tool; he represents the views of the chantry. as such, anything you do with his character arc cannot be divorced from the reality of the mage/templar conflicts, and the glaring issues of the chantry and must, actually, address and involve those things, because cullen is a product of his surroundings. i'm not saying this to minimise or give him excuses for anything he's said or done, but that is made true for him by his very positioning in the narrative as being the chantry's voice. for most of my playthroughs, which lean pro-mage, cullen is an antagonistic force - he has to say and do horrific things, and it would be stupid for me to retcon the horrible things he did.

secondly, my main issue comes from his writing in dai - probably to no one's surprise. i am not unopposed to having a redemption arc for him in dai - this is villain-fucking the blog, sorry not sorry - but the problem is that he does not have one. to have a redemption arc, the following two things needs to happen:

the realisation/acknowledgement/knowledge/whatever that he caused harm to people with his actions/inactions

addressing the False Belief that he has embraced that has previously justified his harmful actions/inactions in order to accept the Truth (this is just basic character narrative construction).

and dai fails to do both of these because the writing team in inquisition is physically incapable of admitting the chantry is wrong and has done wrong and will continue to do wrong. they are physically incapable of looking at fucked up power dynamics and clear cases of oppression and not going "but what if the oppressed people. wanted to be oppressed. NEEDED to be oppressed, even."

which leaves his character arc - whether you want to consider it redemptive or not - confusing. he's trying to shake a lyrium addiction? sure, okay. but why is he addicted to lyrium? why is being addicted to regular ol' lyrium bad? it's not blue lyrium that killed meredith, it's not blue lyrium that corypheus and samson are using.

you get confusing things like cullen's entire character arc being centered around lyrium addiction... but no one seems to give a shit if the inquisitor takes lyrium and becomes a templar, except cullen. you get confusing things like cullen's entire character arc being centered around recovering from lyrium addiction and the templar route in dai and you get to the scene where all the templars get their lyrium draughts. the ceremony and chanting and celebration around getting the lyrium, when barris takes his draught, which is frankly revolting. but it highlights the inconsistency - lyrium, this scene tells us, is good. because the templars are good, and they use it for good. yet cullen's entire arc is about overcoming his lyrium addiction, but don't worry!!!! templars are still good and lyrium is still good. its fucking INCOHERENT!!!!!!

he is addicted to lyrium because that is how the chantry maintains absolute control over its templars. it is a mind-altering substance that causes paranoia, which the chantry specifically takes advantage of and feeds with their all mages are inherently dangerous rhetoric, which is a false rhetoric, as i've pointed out before. but instead of acknowledging any of that, dai's writing goes "lyrium is Bad because [mumble mumble] and its So Important that he doesn't take it so that [mumble mumble]".

because the story is physically incapable of uttering anything even vaguely critical of the chantry.

so, this covers my main issue with his writing in dai. i would ideally try to fix it - without retconning anything he did in dao or in da2. this is what the cullen cult recovery arc is referring to.

i'm not going to go into it in too much detail but the templar order - inclusive of the seekers - fits a lot of the parameters of a cult. specifically, the BITE model, but also this checklist, and a whole bunch of other parameters i found when researching into cults for this specific reason. (which. makes sense. seeing how the orlesian chantry is was also technically a religious cult that becomes the main religion of the lands by actively slaughtering all the other sects)

but what's particularly interesting about it specifically is that, in-world, no one else seems to think it's a cult. for all of cullen's views, he is not the extreme end in da2 - alrik is. meredith is. what's particularly disturbing to me about cullen's point of view is that because he's a product of his environment, because he's a narrative tool representing the chantry's views, cullen's opinions and actions are actually a normality test. people in thedas don't find cullen's views repulsive because most average joes in thedas agree with him. i think it's easy to forget cullen isn't the outlier in-universe - we are.

but, canonically speaking, this is what happens: cullen, like most good antagonists getting a redemption set up, misses his chance to Embrace Change at the end of da2. he sides with meredith too late for it to matter or make a difference - mages (who you learn on the templar route, he's not exactly eager to kill) who he's supposed to protect are already dead. but what happens in kirkwall shakes him to his core and he looks to leave the order entirely - a good step.

the problem is that he leaves the order to join the inquisition. the inquisition, which is headed by the left and right hands of the divine. the right hand of the divine is a seeker herself. the inquisition is spearheaded and justified by the divine, who he has been trained for most his adult life to be subservient to. the divine who formed the inquisition to replace the templar order and hired him to essentially train and recreate the order.

worse, still. no one thinks he did anything wrong. kinloch was not his fault, it was the fault of greagoir and the older templars who were simply not vigilant enough, meredith told him. how he acted to keep order in the circle and the city after the viscount was executed is admirable, cassandra tells him. he was only following orders, leliana admits grudgingly, he stood up for what was right when meredith went too far. no one thinks he did anything wrong, because he is a good templar. because all the atrocities he committed were not committed against people - they were committed against mages, who are not people, not like you and me.

cullen hops from one cult to the next. the inquisition is the exact same thing he's always done and known, just repackaged - quite literally, considering the inquisition's symbol. but canonically, he thinks it's something different. he wants it to be different.

it's not, though.

so, the thought process behind my thoughts for him boils down to this: how does he get the language to describe exactly why this is wrong? how does he get the language to describe why it matters, why it's important, that he hurt real people? how does he get past the Lie that he believes - that he has to be a good templar, to stop anything like kinloch from happening again, since kinloch happened because they weren't vigilant enough, because they were too sympathetic to mages?

his arc shouldn't have just been about overcoming lyrium addiction. his arc should have been a story about recovering from being part of a hate group, a story about recovering from part of a cult.

there's several ways to go about it, i think. and if you want to specifically know how i'm going to do it, you guys should encourage me to write vee verse 😌

[vampiremiffy]

hi, this feels like a rlly dumb question so i hope it doesnt come across as insincere- as a radfem, i truly dont understand why trans exclusion is needed for the liberation of women as a social class and the female sexual spectrum as a biological form. its something i’ve never been able to really get answers on from other radfems directly. i understand the concept of “womens spaces” and the preservation of women’s social identity (and thus social class) as an extension of female biological liberation, but practically i really dont see how transexuality (both contemporary “radical identity” in the form of nonbinary gender and sexual presentation and traditional hyper-binary transexuality) doesnt serve to undermine the power dynamic of male/female social control. idk its always been a sticking point for me lol, i would love for some insight on it bc i suspect maybe its a difference in approach (i.e seeking to eliminate gendered power structures by grinding away the meaning of genders and biological categories vs seeking to maintain womanhood as a social role that is liberated)

hi! sorry for not answering, i wasnt on tumblr these days the main focus is that radfeminism puts the source of women's oppresion at the basis of sex, it isnt really a trans exclusivity since female trans people (using TIF from now on since that includes both binary and nonbinary trans females, same w TIM) are still included in it all examples of female oppression comes from our sex, not our gender.

girls and women cant identify as men/non binary genders to escape female genital mutilation, feminicide, or simply misogyny microaggressions. we arent oppressed simply by being women, that's the excuse it has been formed by the creation of genders, we are oppressed as female. and even though, TIM may suffer discrimination when cispassing, its still proof of sex based oppresion (the perpetuator assuming theyre female) and we cant talk about all of this without the recognition of a female class, the same way people of color recognize that their oppresion is based on their ethnicity or homo/bisexual people recognize their oppresion comes from same sex attraction at the same time is weird to say "i see no race" when talking about racism, it is when trying to "erase" the existence of sex

also, and no less important, just like non human animals, female and male humans have different physical characteristics (+the female and male socialization), we need female spaces (and male) only, even after an idea of gender abolition like in medical aspects

hope this helps?? i answered at to how i understanded your question lol

[the-mercurial-star-o-vesper]

... MGSV explains how the Codec works... when it doesn't break the fourth wall.

Like, okay, we know the super duper magic radio is capable of communications without a radio antennae or broadcast or even a radio interface. It can be used without talking (unless you're radioing in the past there, Naked Snake), keeping communications secret and safe, and its going to be a conversation that only two people using it will hear (unless you're plugged into the system--effectively, Codec calls are the ultimate multicast and man-in-the-middle)

The question that comes up is... How. How the hell are you talking without talking, how are you listening in real time.

... and MGSV answers that.

The Codec is the modern, noninfectious form, of the "Vocal Cord" parts of the Vocal Cord Parasites (What I will now refer to as VCPs for brevity).

Codec and Nanomachines are two separate parts, based on the VCPs.

The effects that VCPs can produce, the fantastical powers and fantastical body and mind modifications as a response to stimuli or force of will--that becomes the Nanomachines later on. We all see this.

But the Vocal Cord parts? That becomes the CODEC. You can talk without talking, so from the outside of a CODEC call, it might sound like light Humming instead. The hivemind bits? Well, translated into technology, and that's the radio bits of your CODEC--from instant communications to knowing who you're talking to intimately, (to a point where you can even be fooled by disguise via fucking Radio Call LIQUID SNAKE. HOLY SHIT DUDE).

The VCP's descendants wasn't just the Nanomachines--its the Codec too.

ADDENDUM:

Its also the ancestor to FOXDIE. Kill someone based on their genetic makeup? Well that's just how the VCPs, just targeted without language. Instead of attaching to everyone indiscriminately, it attaches to specific people only. ... But it brings up the possibility that while FOXDIE might attach to specific genetics--but only activates if the carrier speaks. And that supplies why it took forever for it to take Liquid Snake. He had immunity cos he had it before--it simply ran out when it went against the more powerful descendant of Nanomachines.

Nanomachines might also serve a more practical purpose beyond serving as one of the local magic systems of the world build--And that's specifically finding wild VCPs and destroying them on contact. MGSV shows that you really can't tell if someone has them or not without an obvious progression, and you won't get to obvious progression without obvious deadly infection that FKE (Aka "FUCKING KILLS EVERYONE"). Now that's not true for all of them (The Cobra Unit proves that you can have non-deadly VCPs... or at least, as non-deadly as we know about), but why take the risk of mutation? Ironically this also doubles back to suppoerting MGS's alternative but more oppressed secondary magic system, which is "Outright Supernatural Bullshit (OSB)". So if you have nanomachines, but still maintain your prior super duper special powers--guess what, you just have OSB and the Nanomachines have fuck all to do with that. ( Which brings the third theory that Nanomachines are actually the in-universe excuse used for OSB, because even with the tech, nobody can still explain the super duper special powers bullshit, but its a lot easier to blame the first magic system of the world build so nobody fictional or nonfictional gets a headache. )

[aikoiya]

LoZ - The Gerudo's Dark Past

I wonder if the theory that the Gerudo stole away Hylian men might actually have some degree of truth to it. After all, if the Hylians really were as bad as a lot of fans seem to think, then it's unlikely that many Hylian men would've actually consented to sexual relations with a Gerudo. (Like, I'm sure that there were some, but not so many as to be sustainable.)

I mean, a Sheikah Stone says that the Gerudo sometimes come to Castle Town in search of boyfriends, but it never says if they manage to succeed.

Which could've resulted in drastic measures needing to be made for the sake of their own continued existence as a people. Which would likely only further perpetuate Gerudo hate amongst the Hylians.

And in the Japanese text, the wording used was that they go to Castle Town to "go hunting for boys."

This is supported by the fact that a number of men in OoT's Castle Town reacted with open, visceral terror at the mere sight of the Gerudo Mask rather than the expected derision of basic racism. And this was before Ganondorf made his move.

This suggests a more clinical case of Gerudophobia, which would suggest Categorism as a Phobia. And while the game seemed to specifically Play it for Laughs (if only to avoid crossing more over into an R rating), as a fan, I don't have to follow those same restraints & am free to deconstruct the tropes, thus Playing them for Drama & Horror by examining how someone could reasonably develop such a phobia.

Hell, unexpectedly, Darunia literally yells out that he hates Gerudo despite the Gorons likely being almost entirely unaffected by the Gerudo. And the Zora King said that the sight of a Gerudo gave him chills. This implies that the Gerudo might've actually done something very bad, to the point where even the leaders of races unthreatened by them have a negative view of them. However, the fact that the common Gorons & Zoras don't seem to react at all beyond simple recognition implies that whatever it was they might've done wasn't something that affected the Gorons & Zoras directly.

And it can't simply be thievery either unless that thievery was more so burglary or mugging, possibly even resulting in death, & even then, I can't help but think that this would more so result in wariness & avoidance.

However, the Gerudo were also canonically regarded as noble thieves that only steal to maintain their lifestyle. Which suggests that whatever they did, they likely saw it as a necessity. However, this isn't as clear of an indication of them being as blameless as some might want to believe because you can excuse a lot by putting it under the umbrella of "necessary." And there really isn't a lot more necessary for a tribe of all women than having access to men to reproduce with. By whatever means necessary in fact.

There's also the fact that when Kid Link is caught by the Gerudo, they throw him off a sheer cliff into a fast-moving river. Yet, when they catch Teen Link, they instead throw him down a hole, into a cell. Then there's the fact that the Gerudo Fortress had 6 rather large cells at least. Why would the Gerudo need so many large cells if they didn't use them?

I just think there's more to the hostilities between the Gerudo & Hylians of past games than simple "Oooh, the Hylians were racist oppressors." Like, I'm not saying that they weren't racist (Heaven knows that there's a lot of evidence of Hyrule having done a lot of bad things), just that I think that there was more too it. Because just simplifying it down to simple racism on the part of the Hylians & that the Gerudo were completely innocent/did nothing wrong or that Hyrule's oppression made anything that the Gerudo did automatically justified feels… one-sided. Too straightforward. Way too binary.

Especially when you consider how frankly misandristic the Gerudo are even today. Ya'll, they have an entire sexually segregated settlement where men aren't allowed.

The fuck is that fair? Let alone necessary. I mean, if the Gerudo are as boss-ass bitch as the fandom thinks, then they should have nothing to fear from Hylian men.

This suggests that it isn't for their own protection. If anything, there's evidence to suggest that it might be based almost entirely on a mix of superstition & tradition.

Further, it appears that any young Vai that's born outside of Gerudo Town is expected to move to Gerudo Town at 3-5 & not interact with males at all until 18. This includes cutting off ties with their own fathers.

We don't even know what would happen if a family refused to send their daughter away or if that daughter refused to leave. Whether due to not wanting to leave her family or her best friend who happens to be a boy.

In fact, their misandry goes so far that they'll automatically jail any man that enters Gerudo Town without allowing them a chance to explain themselves. And it is unclear if the knowledge that said man is married to or the father of a resident Gerudo would give him any leeway.

However, the fact that they didn't even think to ask suggests that maybe they wouldn't. Like, you'd think that'd be the sort of thing you'd ask a man in this situation. "State your name, whether or not you're here visiting family, & if so, their names." How hard is that? So, either the guards on duty that day were new, had forgotten protocol, male family members visiting wasn't something that typically happened, or there wasn't a protocol for that they. And even in the case of the last one, whether or not the reason was that this didn't happen often enough for there to be a protocol or because they didn't trust men enough to give them that courtesy.

And even then, that just leads to more questions because if it's that male family members didn't visit often enough for there to be a precedent for a protocol like that, then that suggests either 1) shitty, negligent dads, 2) dad had been told not to come & for whatever reason, Wabbin's the only one who cared enough/put in the effort to disobey, meaning all the other ones are either spineless betas or don't give a fuck, 3) the Gerudo often have one-night stands & none of the sires care enough about their own daughters to put in the effort, ergo shitty dads again, 4) one-night stands again, but this time, the Gerudo don't even have the decency to even tell the man that she's pregnant with his daughter, 5) the father's dead & can't come, & I'm sure that there's more but I can't think of them off the top of my head right now. And regardless of the particulars, it seems to suggest that one side of the equation is either absentee, a coward, unaware, or dead, or the other just doesn't want their man there or never told him.

Either way, someone's not walking out of this situation looking good.

Which, I'm not sure which answer I'd prefer.

And that's not even getting into just how very badly this sort of tradition must be for the Gerudo as a people. They are likely extremely developmentally & socially stunted. As shown here:

There's also evidence to suggest that these prejudices may have existed even all-the-way back in OoT.

Which shows that, even if it's been over 10,000 years since OoT, some things might still be lingering.

Not to mention how badly this sort of tradition must've screwed up Ganondorf & every other Gerudo male in the past. Like, holy cow, just think about that for a minute. How that would've actually felt like if you were in his situation growing up.

I just... to me, that sounds like a very special kinda hell...

Not to mention the fact that in OoT, a Sheikah Stone said this.

Which... yeah, that worries me... Like, a lot...

All I'm saying is, please acknowledge that the Gerudo are a people. Which means that they are going to have prejudices & they are going to have cultural practices that aren't going to be okay. They might do things that are bad or even downright evil.

But this doesn't make them all evil by default, just a work-in-progress just like every other culture.

But, honestly, if they were to, say, build up Kara Kara Bazaar into a full-on market town where the Gerudo's husbands lived & worked. Then, allowed the little vai to go on day trips there to interact with their fathers, brothers (step, half, or adopted), male cousins, male friends that lived there, or even just allowed correspondence (which I'm not sure if we know they allow), then I'd have much fewer issues with the Gerudo having a female-only town for themselves.

LoZ Cultural Masterlist 2