#both of them endured so much abuse at the hands of people who ''loved'' them‚ and I do in fact feel their ''bad end'' IDs are justified

[throughpatchesofviolet]

I love the Manager of La Manchaland ID story--seeing her go around and interact with the Barber, Priest, and Princess, and then seeing her not just vanquish the "Father" who'd abandoned them and forced them to suppress their instincts, but also take responsibility of the Family from him after ... it felt like the Bloodfiends got their justice.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)

Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.

Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.

After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.

One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.

After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.

You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.

After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.

You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.

Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.

“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.

“Where the fuck are you? He spat.

“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.

He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”

He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.

“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.

Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.

You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”

You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.

Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!

You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer

Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days

You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!

Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤

You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.

“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.

“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.

He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.

He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”

When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.

“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.

So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.

“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.

He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.

You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.

He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.

He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.

The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.

When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.

“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.

You shook your head.

“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.

“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.

“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.

“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”

The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.

You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.

“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”

“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.

You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.

“Yep! Got the keys today!”

When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.

“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.

The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”

You nodded.

“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.

After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.

Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.

Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[slytherinzz]

Breaking point

Summary: Two years after the turmoil of her fifth year at Hogwarts, MC returns for her seventh year, haunted by past trauma and the ghosts of broken friendships. Reconnecting with Ominis and Sebastian, her once closest friends, is no easy feat. As she drowns her pain in reckless parties, endless boys and destructive behavior, both boys watch helplessly, knowing she’s spiraling. When a night takes a dark turn, they intervene, and MC is forced to face the pain she’s been hiding. But Sebastian, with his own regrets, is determined to help her heal—and to prove that he’s not letting her go.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!reader (fluff at the end/protective Seb)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse and slutshaming. Characters aged up to 7th year!

a/n: is this fandom still alive? Maybe I'm to late to the party ;) But I'm really enjoying myself haha. Plan to do more in the future: preparing some prompts and headcanons en requests are open. Give me a follow for more.

It had been two years since their fateful fifth year, and though the dust had settled, the wounds had not. Life at Hogwarts carried on, but for MC, every hallway, every classroom, and every face served as a reminder of what she had endured. She returned to Hogwarts for her seventh year, her path winding her back to the two people who had once been her closest friends: Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow.

It wasn’t immediate, this reconnection. Time had a way of healing and, at the same time, pushing people apart. Their sixth year had been quiet—MC had needed space to deal with everything, to step back from the chaos that had consumed her life. But now, in their final year, they had found each other again, tentatively rebuilding their friendship.

And yet, something was different.

Sebastian had never stopped loving her. That much was obvious to Ominis, even if Sebastian refused to admit it outright. The way his eyes softened when she entered the room, the protective edge in his tone whenever someone so much as teased her—it was clear to anyone paying attention. But MC, though she cared deeply for him, was terrified of letting herself feel the same.

She couldn’t.

If she allowed herself to feel for Sebastian, she risked everything. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if it ruined their fragile friendship? She couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. Not again. And so, she buried her feelings and found other ways to cope.

At first, it had been small things. A few late nights at parties, a glass of Firewhisky here and there. But as the year wore on, her coping mechanisms became destructive. She was at every party, taking shot after shot until the world blurred around her. She laughed too loudly, danced too wildly, and left with boys who didn’t know her name and didn’t care to.

It wasn’t long before Ominis and Sebastian noticed.

“She’s not herself,” Ominis said one night, pacing the floor of their shared dormitory. “She’s drinking too much. She is searching for validation in other people arms. She’s… reckless.”

Sebastian sat on his bed, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. He didn’t need Ominis to tell him what he already knew.

“I’ve seen her,” he muttered. “I’ve seen her, throw herself to others, going way behond her own limits, Ominis. She doesn’t even look like herself anymore.”

Ominis stopped pacing, his expression grim. “She’s hurting, Sebastian. She’s been hurting for years, and we didn’t help. She needed us, and we weren’t there. After everything she has done for us”

Sebastian flinched at the words. He couldn’t deny it. In their fifth year, he had hurt her—his obsession with saving Anne, the lies, the dark magic. He had driven a wedge between them, and the guilt of it still weighed heavily on him.

“But what do we do now?” Sebastian asked, his voice low. “She won’t listen to us. She doesn’t even look at me anymore.”

Ominis sighed. “We keep an eye on her. We make sure she’s safe, even if she doesn’t want us to. And when the time is right, we talk to her. Really talk to her.”

The Slytherin common room was packed, the air thick with the smell of Firewhisky and the sound of laughter. It was one of the biggest parties of the year, and MC was right in the center of it.

She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed, her laughter ringing out above the noise. But to Sebastian and Ominis, who watched from the corner of the room, there was a sadness in her eyes that no one else seemed to notice.

“She’s already drunk,” Ominis said quietly, his gaze fixed on her as she stumbled slightly, leaning on a nearby table for support.

Sebastian’s fists clenched. “I’m not letting her leave with anyone tonight.”

They continued to watch as she floated from group to group, her laughter louder, her movements more erratic. And then Weasley approached her.

It started innocently enough. Garreth poured her another drink, cracking jokes that made her laugh. But as the night wore on, his intentions became clearer. He moved closer to her, his hand brushing against her arm, then her waist. MC, too drunk to notice—or too drunk to care—didn’t push him away.

Sebastian’s blood boiled.

“She’s too far gone for this,” he growled, stepping forward, but Ominis grabbed his arm.

“Not yet. Let’s see if she pushes him off.”

But she didn’t. Garreth led her to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crowd. She swayed on her feet, barely able to keep her balance, but Garreth steadied her.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was rough, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her against him. MC stiffened, her hands pressing weakly against his chest, but she was too drunk to fight back. His hands began to wander, slipping down to her thighs, and that was when Sebastian snapped.

“Get your hands off her!”

He was across the room in seconds, shoving Garreth away with a force that sent him stumbling. Garreth glared, his face red with anger and embarrassment.

“She wanted it” Garreth spat, but Sebastian didn’t let him finish.

“She’s drunk,” Sebastian snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “She couldn’t consent even if she did want it. You’re pathetic.”

Ominis stepped in, his hand on Sebastian’s arm. “Enough. Let’s get her out of here.”

MC was barely coherent, her head lolling against Sebastian’s chest as he scooped her into his arms.

The Room of Requirement was quiet, the chaos of the party far behind them. Sebastian laid MC gently on a plush sofa, pulling a blanket over her as Ominis conjured a glass of water.

“She’s going to hate us for this,” Ominis said softly.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not letting her destroy herself.”

They stayed by her side through the night, refusing to leave her alone. When she finally stirred, the early morning light filtering through the room, she groaned softly, her head pounding.

“Where… where am I?” she mumbled.

“The Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, his voice gentle. “You drank too much. We brought you here.”

She sat up slowly, her eyes darting between the two boys. “Did I… did something happen?”

Sebastian hesitated, his jaw tightening. “Garreth crossed a line. We stopped him.”

Her face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop,” Ominis said firmly. “You don’t need to apologize to us. But you do need to stop doing this to yourself.”

Sebastian knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Why, MC? Why are you doing this? Drinking, partying… pushing us away?”

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to feel anymore. I can’t… I can’t risk losing you. Either of you. If I let myself feel anything, it’ll destroy me.”

“You’re not going to lose us,” he said again, his voice steadier this time. “But you have to stop hurting yourself. You have to let someone in, MC.”

Her lips quivered, and she shook her head. “I can’t. What if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything? You don’t understand, Sebastian. You… you mean everything to me. You both do. If I lose you, I don’t know how to keep going.”

Sebastian felt his heart crack open. Every word she spoke was another piece of armor he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing, falling away. “And you think I don’t feel the same?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She blinked at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You… what?”

“I love you,” he said, firmer now. “I’ve been in love with you since Fifth Year. And seeing you like this—seeing you with Garreth, seeing you destroy yourself—it’s killing me. I can’t stand it anymore, MC. I can’t.”

Her breath hitched, her hands tightening around his as though he might disappear if she let go. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t think I deserved you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Not after everything I did. Not after how much I hurt you back then.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sebastian,” she said, her voice trembling. “You were trying to save Anne. You were trying to save your family. I could never hate you for that.”

Sebastian let out a shaky laugh, his forehead falling to hers. “And I could never hate you for what you’ve done this year. But you have to stop punishing yourself. You’re not alone. You never were.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave. For years, she had carried the weight of her guilt, her grief, her fear—alone. And now, here was Sebastian, promising to share it with her. To stay by her side no matter what.

She let out a choked sob and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, over and over again.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around her. “Just let me be here for you. Please.”

For the first time in years, she let herself believe that she wasn’t alone.

When the three of them returned to the Great Hall the next morning, the whispers began almost immediately.

“Look at her. The hero of Hogwarts, brought home by her two protectors again.”

“Bet she’s gone through half the boys in Slytherin by now.”

“She’ll probably ditch Sebastian and take Ominis next. What’s another name on the list?”

MC’s face burned as the whispers reached her ears. She felt every judgmental gaze, every smirk. It was suffocating. She tried to retreat into herself, but Sebastian caught her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said quietly. “They don’t know you.”

But the words lingered.

Over the next week, the rumors only grew worse. Despite the clear shift in MC’s behavior—she avoided parties, stopped behaving recklessly, and spent most of her time with Sebastian and Ominis—the whispers followed her wherever she went. And it didn’t take long for people to start turning their attention to Sebastian.

“She’s just using him. He’s the next notch on her wand.”

“Poor Sebastian. He’s in over his head with her.”

It boiled under his skin, every cruel word igniting his frustration. But he knew MC was the one who was truly suffering.

“You don’t believe them, do you?” he asked her one night as they sat by the fire in the Room of Requirement.

“No,” she said quietly, but her voice betrayed her doubt. “But it’s hard not to. After everything I’ve done… maybe they’re right.”

Sebastian cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “They are not right. You’re more than their stupid gossip, MC. You’re more than your mistakes.” He leaned closer, his voice softening. “You’re mine.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as his words settled over her.

“I mean it,” he continued. “I don’t care what they say. I don’t care what they think. You’re mine, and I’m not letting anyone take you away from me.”

The breaking point came a week later during a Potions class. Garreth Weasley had taken to making sly comments under his breath whenever MC or Sebastian walked by. Most of the time, Sebastian ignored him, but today, something snapped.

“Well, well,” Garreth said, loud enough for the whole class to hear. “Looks like Sallow finally got his turn. Tell me, MC, how does he compare to the others?”

The room fell silent.

Sebastian shot out of his seat, his wand already drawn. “Take that back,” he snarled, his voice deadly calm.

Garreth smirked. “What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

“Take. It. Back.”

“Sebastian!” MC’s voice cut through the tension, pulling him back. He turned to her, his face twisted in anger and pain.

“Let them say what they want,” she said softly, her hand brushing against his. “They don’t matter. You do.”

For a moment, the room was frozen. And then, without hesitation, Sebastian cupped her face and kissed her.

It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss. It was fierce and full of fire, a declaration for everyone in the room to see. When he pulled away, he turned back to Garreth, his hand still on MC’s cheek.

“She’s not some name on a list,” he said coldly. “She’s mine. And if I hear you—or anyone else—talk about her like that again, you’ll regret it.”

The class erupted into murmurs as the professor returned, breaking the moment. But the damage was done. The rumors didn’t stop entirely, but they shifted.

In the days that followed, MC felt something she hadn’t felt in years: peace. Sebastian was by her side at every turn, his presence a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone anymore.

They spent their days together in quiet moments—reading by the fire, sneaking out to the Forbidden Forest for walks, or simply sitting in the Great Hall, their fingers brushing under the table.

And when the whispers started up again, Sebastian was quick to silence them with a sharp glare or a cutting remark. Ominis, ever loyal, had even taken to redirecting conversations when he overheard anything cruel.

For the first time in years, MC felt like she could breathe again.

One evening, as they sat together in the Room of Requirement, Sebastian turned to her, his expression serious.

“Promise me something,” he said.

“Anything,” she replied.

“Promise me you won’t shut me out again. No matter how bad things get, no matter how scared you are, you come to me. Always.”

She smiled, her eyes shining with tears. “I promise.”

And when she kissed him this time, it wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. It was just for them.

For once, she was finally home.

[joejhang]

nathaniel wesninski vs neil abram josten

something that fascinates me abt the aftg books is the nathaniel vs neil dichotomy. so i'm gonna analyse and dissect it like a completely normal and fine person. spoilers ahead !!! continue at ur own risk

i feel like the fandom has the wrong idea abt nathaniel and neil; they aren't foils, they're mirrors. they're a lot more similar than i think the fandom likes to acknowledge. and i actually don't think neil himself has too much of a problem with that.

allow me to elaborate. neil isn't scared of nathaniel, and nor is he very sensitive about his father. he actually references his father sometimes as a defence mechanism ("you think i'm afraid of your knife? i'm the butcher's son.") his feelings towards his father are, i'd say, deep-rooted fear and resentment. this has to extend somewhat to nathaniel, given how deeply entwined nathaniel wesninski is with both the butcher (neil's childhood abuser, the one person he truly fears) and mary hatford (also one of neil's abusers imo but their relationship is a lot more complex), both of whom neil says he doesn't want to become like. but he also says it might be inevitable that he is a little bit like them anyway (he's right).

i think this is how the fandom differentiates between nathaniel and neil; nathaniel is cold-blooded, ruthless, analytical, a criminal mastermind. nathaniel wesninski sealed the deal for his own survival with ichirou moriyama. nathaniel wesninski endured the torturous conditions in the baltimore house. nathaniel wesninski watched the butcher of baltimore brutally murder a man in front of him at ten years old in castle evermore. nathaniel wesninski followed his mother on the run for eight years, twenty-two cities, sixteen countries and a dozen fake identities. nathaniel wesninski watched as his mother left bodies and sacrifices in their wake for their own survival. nathaniel wesninski orders hits on the people who have hurt the people he loves. more than once, others in the series note that neil will always be nathaniel wesninski at heart (ichirou, jean) and neil doesn't correct them.

neil josten, on the other hand, is scrappy and messy and impulsive. neil josten has sharply honed survival instincts that he throws away at the first chance of getting to live a real life. neil josten chose to stay at palmetto state university with the full knowledge that he would get himself and many others killed. neil josten clocked r*ko's shit on live tv and at the fall banquet. neil josten trusted a five foot nothing goalkeeper with his life for a year. neil josten saw the opportunity to do what he loved, even if it would kill him, and he took it. neil josten isn't afraid to run his mouth, be it to a teammate who overstepped or a reporter broadcasting on national tv. neil josten doesn't think about the past or the future but lives in the moment, all consequences be damned. neil josten gets to know and starts to care about the foxes even though he knows he shouldn't.

in short; nathaniel wesninski is ice all the way through, unapologetically the butcher and the bird's son, and neil josten is all fire, a young man and a runaway who chose living over survival and friends (family) over safety.

that's the dichotomy, but i actually think people don't realise that they're two sides of the same coin. i don't mean like "neil is nathaniel is nathan" i mean like neil chose to be neil josten, with full knowledge and agency, but that doesn't change that he was nathaniel first. in the fandom's declawing of neil, they forget that he's still the butcher's son, and he isn't afraid to show his teeth.

"neil josten" doesn't exist on his own. he is a product of neil's time with the foxes. neil says himself, at the beginning of the series, neil josten wasn't a person, just another identity that could be discarded at the drop of a hat. it was the foxes that made "neil josten" a real person. they pulled out from that facade the parts of neil that "no disguise could change". neil's character arc from the scared nobody at the beginning of tfc to the brave and happy young man at the end of tkm wouldn't have ever happened without the foxes' influence on his life. that pivotal narration change from neil to nathaniel in tkm is in a sense, neil shielding the foxes and the person he was around them from the cruel reality of his past. the identity of "nathaniel wesninski" is real and undeniable, already bloodstained from his brutal childhood, and untouched by the foxes, and so can't really be ruined by his father's hand (sweet mourning lamb, there is nothing you can do, it has already been done). everything that happened in baltimore, from the legal name change to neil and andrew's conversation in the car ("can i really be neil again?" "i told neil to stay. leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father.") is more of a decision to choose a new life than it is a new identity. "can i really be neil again?" is neil asking if he's really escaped his past and he can truly stay with the foxes and be who he was around them freely. and andrew's "leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father" is more of an assurance to let neil's bloody past go in favour for a new and better life.

note: "let go" does not mean forget or disregard or lose. it just means to accept it but move on. this is important i promise.

after that, neil is able to continue freely in his life. wait no he's not. ichirou comes to find him. right.

the neil and ichirou conversation is one of the most interesting in the series. it says a lot more about neil's character than people seem to notice. neil actively "switches" into the persona of nathaniel wesninski specifically for that conversation. something about how every word has to be true and it has to be the biggest lie he's ever told. neil's switch to nathaniel is a little jarring and a little uncanny. the way he speaks is pure business, coldly rational and disconcertingly subservient to ichirou (disconcerting because of how adamantly neil refused to submit to r*ko and testuji and even his father's people). but it's interesting because it's still neil josten speaking. the narration doesn't change, and the way neil talks is still very much himself, just honed and polished to suit the man ichirou thinks he's speaking to. ichirou wasn't looking for neil abram josten, starting striker for the psu foxes, he was looking for nathaniel wesninski, the only son of the butcher of baltimore. neil knew this, and knew he had a part to play and he plays it so easily it actually fucking works. he isn't even afraid of ichirou. everything he says and does in that scene is careful and thought-out and logic-based, but there is no fear. all of neil's fear in the aftg series quite literally is caused by his father, and can always be traced back to him. since nathan is dead at this point, neil isn't fearful of ichirou, just cautious.

the narration change in tsc is also notable. jean thinks of neil as nathaniel wesninski until the foxes beat the ravens and r*ko dies. this is significant because the idea of "nathaniel wesninski" is also deeply entwined with the perfect court. if neil had signed with the ravens he would've been nathaniel wesninski (03) not neil josten. but once r*ko is dead and once tetsuji steps down, the perfect court no longer exists, and neither does the phantom partner jean was clinging to all these years. there is no nathaniel wesninski (03), no forever partner for jean, even though he has nathaniel's auburn hair and ice-blue eyes and cruel smile, he doesn't have the mark of the perfect court anymore and r*ko and tetsuji aren't around to reinforce that delusion so for jean, now there is only neil josten.

still, he also says later on that neil is a wesninski at heart. neil doesn't really take this personally, from what we can tell. killing a rapist isn't something particular to neil or nathaniel, he would do it whether he was neil abram josten or nathaniel wesninski. but the method, the subtlety, writing the numbers on a napkin, handing them to his mobster uncle, that is such a nathaniel-characteristic thing to do that jean comments on it. neil might have problems with wearing his father's face and his father's smile, but he never denies the truth that he is a little like his father (referencing his hot temper), and he isn't hurt or offended by jean's comment.

this post is getting way too fucking long, even for me, so i won't go into the "abram" of it all, but just know there's something to be said about that, too. i just think the fandom takes the whole "leave nathaniel buried in baltimore" thing a little too literally. nathaniel isn't gone for good, he will always be a part of neil, but neil's accepted that and moved on. he's living his best life, doing what he loves with people he loves, and even tho he does act a little bit like a wesninski at times, he's come to terms with who he is and who he chose to be: neil abram josten.

[daydreamer-in-reverie]

I want to put focus on how significant parents are in the Hunger Games franchise, most especially on the role a parent has in shaping their child’s psyche and I want to do this by using Katniss, Peeta and Snow as reference. 

In the books and the movies, parents are more or less background characters. We truly only see glimpses of them. Both of Peeta’s parents are alive yet we rarely see them featured prominently in the books/movies. Both of Snow’s parents are dead and we only get to hear of them in passing and while Mrs. Everdeen is alive, she’s often relegated to the background because of how dismissive Katniss is towards her mother. 

Yet these characters and the very essence of their beings are shaped by their parents. 

Beginning with Katniss, we saw how deeply her father’s death wounded her. He was their provider, the sole person responsible for bringing food onto their table. We know how deeply he was loved by his children and his wife and how beloved he was by the other citizens of 12 by Katniss’ stories. Mr. Everdeen was a well known figure in the Hobb and Katniss firmly believed that it was because of him that people took pity on her and allowed her to bargain with them. It was his death that served as a catalyst to Katniss’ journey to becoming a Victor. Without his death, without Katniss being forced to hunt to serve her family, she wouldn’t have made it out of the arena. To Katniss, her father was the hero deserving of being placed on a pedestal and it was his values and actions that she tried desperately to emulate to protect her family. 

On the other hand, Katniss scorned her mother. She hated Mrs. Everdeen’s inaction when she spiraled into a deep depression after her husband died. And though it wasn’t Mrs. Everdeen’s fault, I can’t blame Katniss for feeling this way about her mother. She and her sister were near the brink of death by starvation on the day she met Peeta. Even when Mr. Everdeen was alive, Katniss was partial to her father because he stoked the rebellion in Katniss’ heart while it was her mother who tried to stop it. Katniss perceived her mother’s depression as a weakness and even after she got better, Katniss was determined to keep her at arms length. The love she felt for her mother may have been unconditional but she constantly put her mother under the test. Waiting to see if she would disappoint her, fail her by abandoning her once again. And when Prim died and Mrs. Everdeen left for District 4, Katniss’s unconscious bias against her mother was once again reaffirmed. 

It’s why Katniss struggles to form a good bond with motherly characters like Effie but maintains relatively good relationships with fatherly figures like Haymitch and Cinna. Katniss openly admits that of the two people who guided them throughout the Hunger Games, it was Haymitch she was most alike. They grew up at the Seam, and shared similar features and she was adamant that should she have been forced into becoming a mentor like Haymitch was, she was looking at what her future would have looked like. Drunk and continuously intoxicated like Haymitch was. 

On the other hand, we have Peeta. 

Peeta was routinely abused by his mother. While we don’t know the full extent of what it was he had to endure, we know that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Peeta’s mother took pride in the knowledge that District 12 would finally have another Victor, and she wasn’t referring to Peeta. We saw him take a beating to feed Katniss and whatever relationship Peeta had with his father was practically nonexistent. It was his mother that served to be the looming presence in his life the same way Katniss’ father haunted her. It’s why I believe Peeta got along so well with Effie and why Effie likely preferred Peeta over Katniss. Aside from the fact that Peeta was so much more civil to Effie than Katniss was to Effie, Peeta always deferred to Effie. He and Effie are similar in the same way Katniss and Haymitch are similar. 

Peeta was characterized to be of the merchant class, the “upper” class of District 12. As a given, Effie is from the Capitol, the upper crust of Panem. It was Effie who provided Katniss and Peeta with the script necessary to ensure their survival after the 74th Games and in return, Effie knew how effectively a person’s image and reputation could mean life and death in the arena and in this, Peeta is in agreement. While Katniss may have used a bow as a weapon, Peeta used his words. He always knew the right things to say and do to get people to side with him, so much so that he managed to convince the careers of the 74th Games, his biggest enemies in the arena, to ally with him. Had anyone else been in his situation, they would have been killed. Peeta craved Effie’s maternalism the same way Katniss craved Haymitch’s paternalism because these were the things they lacked growing up.

And then there’s Coriolanus, who lost both his parents and it is both of these parents who haunt him. His mother, described to be beautiful and kind, was represented by the powder compact he kept with him constantly. His father, harsh and cruel, represented by the handkerchief that Snow kept with him.

In TBOSAS, Snow has two mentors himself. 

Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul.

It’s not lost on me that in them, the characterization of the two are reversed from Snow’s parents. Highbottom, like Snow’s father is stern and harsh. He is Snow’s biggest critic and while I doubt Mr. Snow would go so far as to hate his own child, he would not have been kind to Coriolanus had he lived past the war. Yet Highbottom and Mr. Snow’s similarities end there. Because of Highbottom’s remorse and the kindness that he showed Lucy Gray after she won the Games, he takes after Snow’s mother in that regard. He is compassionate and filled with horror at the abomination he created.

On the other hand, Gaul treats Snow with a gentleness that Highbottom never had for him. Though Snow finds Gaul creepy, it is Gaul that takes him under his wing. It is Gaul who stitches up his wounds after he is attacked in the arena and retrieves Sejanus and Gaul who praises him for his ingenuity at suggesting the sponsoring system. Gaul genuinely likes Snow and begins grooming him to become her replacement in the event that she dies. But while Gaul may have been a woman with the capacity for gentleness, she is a terrible human being who threw children into the arena to fight for their survival. She is the same woman who hung a child for running away from the games and paraded the corpses of children on the streets of the Capitol. She is pure evil. She is exactly like Snow’s father. 

It isn’t loss on me that Snow, who has an abundance of maternal figures in his grandmother and Tigris, chooses to take after Gaul, who is externally like his mother but internally like his father, rather than Highbottom, who is the opposite. 

At every instance Snow had to do good, to choose to do the right thing and be like his mother, he intentionally continued to do the evil thing for the sake of his selfishness and be like his father. 

“You look just like your father, Coriolanus.” Were the words Tigris used to describe him at the end of the movie because that is precisely who he chose to become. 

And as Snow poisons Highbottom and becomes a gamemaker under Gaul’s tutelage, he kills whatever remnant of his mother he had left in him, fully embodying his cruel father’s ideals.

[litnerdwrites]

How torturous is it to love with everything your heart can give, and then some, only for your acts of love to either be forgotten about or to be treated like the villain for caring? And on top of that, you never once receive even a fraction of the love back.

Nesta loved Feyre enough to go to the wall for her, and she would've gone farther, if she were able, only for Feyre to forget.

Nesta spent her entire childhood taking her mother's abuse so her sister's didn't have to, only for Elain to turn her back on her.

Nesta spent her whole life trying to give Elain the love that she would've given anything to receive from their mother, for Elain to abandon her and condemn her when she needed that love more than ever.

Nesta joined a war for Feyre, only for it all to be forgotten.

She stayed in the mortal lands, despite it being dangerous after the Queens denied the IC's request for the book, clearly ready to sacrifice their people, including Nesta and Elain, all because Elain wanted to be near her betrothed and be comfortable, just for Elain to try and force Nesta out of her safe space, and into uncomfortable situations.

Nesta stayed with Elain, putting aside her own trauma for her sake to look after her, but when she needed the same love and understanding, Elain abandoned her for the comforts Feyre provided.

Nesta put aside her own trauma to help with war efforts, but it's never brought up again.

Nesta is most likely the one who cooked and cleaned and looked after the cabin, and who thanked her?

Nesta is the one who demanded their neglectful father be held accountable for his failures, but, instead, that burden was forced onto her.

Nesta is the one who demanded Rhysand be held accountable for lying to both her and Feyre, only for Feyre to turn around and laugh at the idea of her being punished for something Feyre said herself, that she isn't mad at.

Nesta endured verbal abuse at the hands of Feyre's new family, let them stare at her like a zoo animal, and didn't comment on it.

Nesta would've gone into the blood right after Emerie and Gwyn, laws be damned, to save them. She would've done it for any of them, only for them to decide she's fine and leave her there. Did they worry about her while she was there? Azriel didn't seem worried. Neither did Feyre or Elain.

That's not even the half of it. Nesta loved so much, with her whole heart, and not a single person could give it back to her. Not one. How tiring, and heart breaking must that be for her? The thought alone brings me to tears.

[justanothersanjilover]

So I got this idea about a Zosan Soulmate AU and just had to write a little bit about it. I don't know how fast I can update this, but its a start and I’m going to keep writing it 😊

My Name on your tongue

Part 1

Paring: Zosan (maybe Sanzo, too)

Soulmate AU

Triggers: Child abuse, swear words, death

Six years old

“In our world, you get something very special when you turn 18. You get to summon a familiar - an animal, mythical or natural - that will be your companion throughout your whole life. The animal you summon is based on what you need in life and what fits you. No one knows who’s assigning the animal to you, but it always fits.

Now, if you are very passionate and loving toward your familiar and it returns that feeling, there is a chance that it will turn into a human and become your soulmate. But this only happens when there exists such a strong bond that both of you would endure the greatest pain imaginable for the other. The bond has to be so strong that you’d die for each other.

Most people don't put in the effort because why go to that length for an animal? Also, there is no greater need to be with your soulmate unless your familiar turns into it. You can perfectly live without ever getting your soulmate.”

“Is father your soulmate?” Sanji wanted to know, looking up at his mum.

Sora shook her head, her expression somewhat painful, but her son didn't pick up on that fact.

“But…you don't have a familiar around.”

“I know,” Sora swallowed drily. “She…she died. She wanted to protect me and got badly injured. I couldn't help her.”

Sanji looked shocked at her.

“I’m sorry…”

He snuggled against his mother to comfort her. She smiled sadly and brushed a hand through his blond hair.

“When you get your familiar, make sure to protect them. It’s a really bad feeling to lose them forever.”

“I promise. And I will love them so much! I can't wait to meet them!”

Sanji was so different from his siblings, and Sora was thankful for that, but she knew that he would have it worse than them. While pregnant with him and his three brothers, her husband genetically modified them - against Sora’s will. He made them stronger, more durable - as he called it - faster and better in anything. He got rid of their emotions and made sure they would become his best soldiers. In doing this, he also hoped to influence the familiar they’d get. He wanted them to have big, brutal animals - monsters to make their enemies shake in fear. Sora had watched him silently get rid of the emotions and feelings of their oldest child, their daughter Rejiu. He somehow managed to manipulate her into an obedient, emotionless kid, strong and fast, and an expert in poisons despite her young age. She was his first perfect soldier.

But Sora wasn't standing by as he tried to corrupt her other children! So, after learning about Judges doing, Sora took a poison to destroy the modifications. Unfortunately, it only worked on Sanji. On the one hand, she was happy for him; on the other, she was sad and devastated. Sanji would never have any worth for his father; he’d always be the failure, and she was the reason why.

Although Sanji always smiled when he came to visit, she saw the bruises and cuts. She saw the pain behind his young eyes. She knew what his siblings and father were doing to him, and she could do nothing to stop them. So she always tried to give him the best times when he came to visit her. Unfortunately, the poison she took destroyed her body and made her bedbound.

Hugging Sanji tightly, she did her best not to start to cry. She knew that her days were counted…and it would be the end of the night when she would leave Sanji behind to deal with everything all by himself. The only ray of light was that at least on his eighteenth birthday, he would get a familiar that surely would protect him. That was why she told him all about familiars! She wanted him to know as much as possible, as much as humanity found out about them. Sanji sucked everything up like a sponge!

The only thing she wasn't allowed to tell him was how to summon his familiar. Because if a familiar was summoned before the eighteenth birthday, there were terrible side effects. Sometimes, the familiar wasn't fully developed….like the child. Other times, the child couldn't hold the image of the familiar (which was important), and it would turn out deformed. And then there were times when the familiar was an adult and got really protective and possessive of the child - sometimes so much it had to be put down because no one could touch the child without getting attacked, even when the kid was hurt, starving or anything else putting its life in danger. So she wouldn't tell Sanji - even if a protective familiar wouldn't be the worst…she wanted them to have a chance at getting real friends, and Sora hoped Sanji would be allowed to find his soulmate. She hoped he could experience this purest kind of love in the world.

“You need to go,” Sora mumbled into Sanji’s hair. “It’s past visiting time.”

“I don't want to…”

“I know, love. I know. But your father will get mad if you stay, and you know that.”

Sanji nodded, suppressing sobs, as he pulled away from his mother. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

“I’ll come again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, do that. I can't wait to see you again, my little angel.”

Sora hugged him tight and placed a kiss on top of his head. Why should she tell him that she wouldn't be there in the morning? It would only upset him and make him sad and guilty. She felt her spirits leave her body slowly but surely. At the end of the night, she’d be dead, and Sanji would be alone. Before she let him go, she brushed a hand through his hair and made him look up into her eyes.

“Remember that I will always love you, my little sunshine. Regardless of what will happen in your future. I’ll love you every day of your life and after it.”

Sanji looked a bit confused, but as soon as Sora smiled, he smiled back, placed a quick, wet kiss on her cheek and ran out - so his father wouldn't punish him.

~

“Useless!”

“I’m trying…” Sanji sobbed, holding the side of his face - it pulsed with pain, and he was sure his lip was bleeding.

“That's the point!” His father yelled. “You are trying! You shouldn't have to try! You should be able just to do it!”

“But I…” another blow, and Sanji flew backward against a pillar of the training room - he groaned in pain when he hit the stone with full force.

“You are weak! A false experiment! A fucking failure! I should just get rid of you!”

Judge was towering over his son like death himself. And Sanji couldn't do anything different than feel fear and hurt and disgust at his own body. The poison from his father's lips seeped into his mind and planted a dangerous seed. He cried when Judge grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and held him up to his face.

“And that's why you don't have a familiar. You will never get one! Never! I took that ability from you because it would be as weak as you are, and I don't have use for two failures in my kingdom!”

Sanji sobbed uncontrollably. Ever since he asked his father about his own familiar - which was a big, dragon-like creature always lurking behind his throne - he left no chance unused to point out that Sanji would never have one. Sanji didn't understand why he would rip this opportunity from him, why he was such a mistake in his father's eyes. Just because he wasn't as strong as his siblings? Because his skin started to bleed when cut or punched hard enough? Because he cried when he got hurt?

“Get out of my sight before I start losing my temper,” Judge growled and tossed him aside like a back of garbage.

Sanji scrambled to his feet and ran from the training room, hoping his brothers wouldn't wait outside like they did most of the time. His hopes crashed when he closed the door, and laughter sounded behind him.

“Look at that,” Yonji said.

“The weakling is back out,” Ichiji grinned.

“Seems like he still can't handle a punch,” Niji snickered.

His brothers gathered around him, laughing and pointing at him. Sanji felt tears in his eyes but tried to swallow them. He hated to cry in front of his brothers, just as much as he hated to do so in front of his father. His eyes searched for pink hair, and surely, he found his sister, standing in the background but grinning as evil as the rest of them.

“Leave me alone,” he sobbed - knowing very well it would turn in the opposite of what he wanted…but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“What?”

“We couldn’t hear you over all your whining.”

“I think he said we should show him how to fight.”

And a blink of an eye later, he crashed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Lying there, he curled up into a ball to at least try and shield his stomach and face from the kicks and blows that rained down on him like a hailstorm.

In the end, he was beaten bloody, and they left him where he was lying. His eyes stared into nothingness while his tears mixed with the blood and formed little puddles on the floor.

Hours later, he was able to drag himself to his bedroom. Curling up in his bed, Sanji felt tears in his eyes again.

“Why?” He cried into his pillow. “Why am I not like them? Why do I have to be this way?”

He knew why, his mother had told him, but still…There were moments when he hated his emotions, and he would give them up just to see the same smile on his father's face, pointed at him like he was giving his siblings.

He was worthless, and that's also why he would never have a familiar, which made him cry even more. Since his mother died two months ago, he always comforted himself with the knowledge that he’d get a chance to meet his soulmate. But because he was weak, because of his emotions, Judge took this ability, this gift from him. The first time he mentioned it to Sanji, his whole world was shattered. He didn't even feel the hits his father was dealing. He was numb…almost lifeless. The only thing he was looking forward to - the only thing that made his little heart and mind strong enough to survive and not give up - was the reassuring thought of meeting his familiar.

After his breakdown, he thought maybe, if he got better, if he could prove to his father that he was worth keeping around…maybe he would give him the ability to get his familiar back.

“I have to…get stronger…” Sanji sobbed while drifting to sleep.

All he wanted was to be loved and be part of this family…

Next

[doesthendnlive]

I'm so tired. Sorry for bad grammar or mistakes.

TW for rape/pedophilia/slavery/domestic violence/violence against Indigenous women and girls specifically

It makes me so angry we Sacagawea and "Pocahontas" are known our figure head Native "Women". If you want to go a litter further the fact that "La Malinche" is idolized as well in the same way. But we don't learn about their actual lives.

Why are public schools obessed with these pedophilic relationships between Native girls and old gross ass white males as "The country coming together" or a "unity between 'Indians' and whites'" or "the creation of our mestizo race" or whatever else.

Sacagewa was only 12 when her "husband" bought her, and 16 when he impregnated her. I didn't learn this until I looked it up and searched for it myself.

"Charbonneau was also known for his short temper with his wives. On August 14, 1805, Charbonneau struck Sacagawea during a domestic argument, and was told to stop by Clark. This one incident has led to Charbonneau's reputation as a "wife beater," although it was the only time during the expedition that this type of behavior was noted. Coupled with the rape incident described above, however, Charbonneau seems to have been a sometimes violent person with little regard for women Native girls . His consistent record of marrying Native girls under age 16 also makes one wonder about a possible need to exhibit power over women Native girls

Charbonneau is known to have had a total of five wives, all young Native American women girls whom he married when they were sixteen years old or younger. He may have had more wives who have been lost to the record, however. His last known wife, an Assiniboine girl, was 14 when she married him in 1837; he was more than 70 years old."

Matoaka was even younger if I remember right, the bastardization of her real life story and the fetishization of her story and Native women and girls beause apparently we're all from her people. The fact the "Pocahontas" even exists, the disregard for her actual story and scraping details out to make it more palatable.

Despite the fact the she didn't get to have palatable, she had to endure violence, forced removal, rape, and forced impregnation by her rapist(s). She didn't get to have that comfort or safety but everyone else gets to when 'learning' about her.

"La Malinche" or "Malintzin" (we literally don't know her birth name) was around 11-16 years of age when she ended up on the hands of Spaniards

What makes it worse in regards of "Malintzin" is that Hispanic Males fetishize the "Mestizo race" and the rape of Indigenous women and girls especially to create this race.

They only claim their Indigenous decent when it benefits them, while they are still actively anti Indigenous themselves and hate actual indigenous peoples/communities.

Argentina specifically, it's called chineo, criollo males are known for targeting Indigenous women and girls to rape/gangrape them. It's a old colonial practice that still happens to this day.

Im just so angry that our figure Indigenous "women" are just these little girls adultified into these grown women just to make people less uncomfortable with the power dynamic imbalance and pedophilic relationships and colonialism and colonization in general

Racist white males (Spanish, English, French, whatever flavour of white idc) love this idea of conquering Indigenous women and raping them. I heard way too many gross comments from old white males with rapey undertones to them about them being white and me being a Indigenous girl.

Or even them mocking the sexual violence we face, one of my ex white male friends mocked me for being abused when we got into a argument not related to it at all he also was more and more racist to me as time went on.

In both of the Americas Indigenous people, but especially Indigenous Women and girls aren't safe. It's scary how much violence is forced onto us and how these figure head "Women" are watered down into comfortability for the general public.

The violence we face is pretty much the same in the Americas, and its scary to know we are stuck in places that hate us despite being on our lands in the first place.

all of this but THIS PART ESPECIALLY:

[yuripira4e]

i already posted this in some tags but I want to be more insane acryally. This is kind of just my opinion on Edwin and The Cat Kings relationship n why I don’t think fans should try and push their relationship.

Their relationship is starts off and is mostly the cat kings own narcissism and predatory (not age wise; I mean literally) behavior towards Edwin and Edwin's need for someone to push him into understanding that his queerness doesn't have to be torture and can be something giddy (even if he doesn't return those feelings). This is super important to Edwin but his rejection of TCK is also as he immediately recognizes his lack of feelings and actual literal discomfort at the moves placed on him. TCK is good about boundaries and consent sexually wise but that doesn’t stop their relationship from progressing from there.

At first, the cat king does like Edwin but he doesn’t know anything about him. He sees their relationship as a game and Edwin simply as someone he wants to have simply because he can’t. He continues to torment Edwin (showing up as people he does like, propositioning him still, being threatening when his control is questioned) through out the show but starts to feel that “romanticism” towards him because hes infatuated by the kindness he's shown despite the cruelty he's presented to Edwin. Queerness and performance always go hand in hand and Edwin’s lack of it entices the Cat King.

The show runners and Lukas, the actor, have said themselves that the cat king is an older secretly insecure character. He’s jaded by heartbreak the the world’s condemnation of everything he is. Edwin is this younger, genuinely kind character that shows him that projecting his hurt on others and romanticizing it only hurts both people in that relationship. Their relationship is about the isolation of queerness and the walls put up to protect yourself and the coping mechanism used to not be hurt again; even at the risk of hurting those just like you- or those who used to be (cough cough the show runners saying that TCK represented the older men with bad intentions that every young gay man has met that welcomes them into the space and makes them feel loved to use them). The Cat King uses Edwin and Edwin knows this. That kiss from edwin was not a reciprocation of feelings; it was to say "I'm sorry your loneliness had caused you to think you have to use your power to control those weaker than you. (Naive, young, and someone he can literally trap) It's the easiest way to feel. And while I cannot and will not give you what you want or need, you deserve to feel happy and not like you have to gain attention of those uninterested to feel good enough.”

I just can't even explain all my thoughts about their dynamic it's just so much about the predation from older queers because of the trauma they've endured from their elders and the cycle of hurt and abuse that is passed down and the way we can break the cycle with kindness. The way we can protect our youths by healing those traumas.

Something the cat king learns and accepts because he can like Edwin. He can show Edwin the sweetness and beauty of being queer while also not being the one that should hold his hand through it. Edwin cannot be a romanticized replacement for the pain others have caused him and trying to force him to be so, continuing to treat him like prey to catch, will only continue the cycle.

tdlr: their relationship is super important for both of their relationships with queerness and trauma and becoming more aware of their identities but their relationship is not romantic- it’s simply an attempt to romanticize Edwin into someone he could love (hurt and control) in place of the people who’s actually hurt him and is supposed to be a parallel of real life predation in the queer community but the realization of this created an amazing acceptance and new bond I do hope they explore without TCK trying to force a non-platonic relationship

Off topic but I don't like people defending their age gap because, yes, Edwin is 86, but he died with a teenage boy brain and then spent 70 of those years in hell where he certainly was not getting his brain developed while TCK has possibly hundreds of years of sentience and experience. The power imbalance is not it y'all and that’s like super clear in the show

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

here are my thoughts and i want to hear yours !!!

it stranges me how axl allegedly took erin as a target since she was more innocent and a virgin and all of that, i mean, what i thought was more rational was that mostly, a guy would feel comfortable protecting that more innocent naive looking partner you have beside you, but i wonder what made axl have erin as a target when it was so obvious how much less experienced she was in all the thing he was experienced in, like, why her? why didn’t axl hit stephanie?

Hi, anon! I shared a few of these details in my previous posts, but I'll gladly reiterate them again. Keep in mind, this is all hypothetical.

Erin believed she was an easy target for Axl because she didn't have a backbone like Stephanie where she could fight back, she'd just endure the abuse until it was over. Plus, if she did try to stand up for herself, she would be in a much worse predicament with Axl, and she probably would've received more marks on her body. Stephanie's different - she's more mature, more resilient, and she wasn't gonna tolerate a similar fate. Axl subconsciously viewed Erin as a "weaker" individual which could explain why he used her as an outlet for his frustrations.

Erin may have looked innocent and sweet in the photos and interviews, but was she really? She appeared to be a totally different person around Axl when they were alone. A few witnesses pinpointed how Erin was the aggressor in the relationship while Axl was the one who tried defending himself. Axl didn't mind having a partner who was “childish” in a sense. He loved Erin and was devastated when she left. If he didn't enjoy having a partner like Erin around then he would've left her in the dust on his own terms.

I don't want you to be under the impression that their relationship was awful all the time. It wasn't. They both shared romantic moments together over the years and when they're relationship was going good, it was great! However, when things were going bad, it turned to shit. Every relationship has its own ups and downs, fight or flight modes.

Another thing that separates Erin and Stephanie is Stephanie's son, Dylan. Axl always wanted to start his own family but couldn't because Erin suffered a miscarriage. Axl saw Dylan like his own son and used a healthier outlet to bond with him.

During this time [1991], Axl understood why his relationship with Erin never worked, and he explains it:

"I had an extremely volatile relationship with Erin. And I was projecting strong, negative feelings about myself onto other people. I was attracted to people with similar dysfunctional traits, people that I was going to end up not really getting along with. And it wasn't good for me or them, it just made me despise being with anyone, or meeting anyone, or having a good thoughts linked to someone."

He wanted to become a better person, not only for his future partners but for himself, too. This is also the another reason why l believe he hit Stephanie way less than Erin. He didn't want to go back to his old ways and use Stephanie as an unhealthy outlet. He didn't want to repeat the same, emotionally strained outcome twice. He only laid hands on Stephanie because he found out she cheated on him with multiple men. So...payback had to be served.

Another fact I think is worth mentioning is how fame affected Axl's mental health.

Axl describing his inspiration behind the song Coma on MTV with Kurt Loder.

"I started writing about when I OD'd 4 years ago. And the reason I OD'd was because of stress, I couldn't take it. I just grabbed the bottle of pills, in an argument, and just gulped them down, and I ended up in the hospital. What I liked was I wasn't in the fight anymore."

Before Axl made Guns N' Roses, he was in other bands such as Rapidfire, AXL, Rose, Hollywood Rose, New Hollywood Rose, and L.A. Guns. He wanted one of his bands to be big and that was what happened with GNR. The problem was he encountered a lot of stress and there was more responsibilities he had to take as the band grew in recognition. Which could also explain why he abused Erin more frequently, the stress from the band was creeping up on him, and it caused him to spiral into a breakdown.

[smok3r7]

Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Five: Running Away

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: Nate is officially out of the picture for good, at least for the last year. A fun night of card games and alcohol causes you and Joel finally to have a chance to maybe spark something new. But you get scared, and what do you do when you get scared? You run away.

Word count: 5.8k

⚠️Warnings: cards against humanity, sexual tension, grinding, fingering, relationship ptsd, feeling confused

I just wanna give a big shout to @chloeangelic she has been an absolute blessing to me, thank you so much for helping me through this process, love you🫂🫶🏼

—

The warm summer breeze flows through your hair as you sit on a rocking chair on the wrap-around porch you’ve come to relax on, the sounds of children playing surrounds you, the sun beaming down onto the green yards filled with dandelions in the neighborhood, and you couldn’t be any happier.

Another year has passed by without any problems, you practically live with Joel and Ellie, and you can’t remember the last time you set foot in your old place, too many horrific memories associated with that home. Nate has been gone for months now - he and Daniel got an assignment to go out West a bit more to find different supplies Jackson needs.

All you know is that they’re still alive, based off of radio communications, but in reality, you don’t care anymore, to the point where you have asked Henry, who’s in control of the radio, to stop giving you updates.

You’ve mentally and emotionally moved on from Nate, and he’s more a figment of your imagination by now. You don’t have any more romantic ties to him, which means, you’re back to your normal fun self. Your witty personality takes over the weak one that grew over you like weeds, and it’s pretty funny; you and Ellie are very similar, she’s what you would imagine your daughter to be like. It’s bittersweet.

“Hey darlin’,” Joel greets as he comes out of the house you now share with them, with a glass of lemonade in each hand, “Extra sugar, just how you like it.” He winks at you when you reach out to grab the tall glass, a smile grows on your warm face, “You, Miller, are the best.”

He laughs as he sits down next to you in the other chair with a groan, “I try my best.” You shake your head and take a drink of the freshly squeezed lemonade and your mouth is filled with the perfect mix of sugary sweetness and fresh lemons. You hum from the pure satisfaction that flows through your tastebuds, “Gotta hand it to you, Miller,” you turn your head to look him in the eyes, “This is perfect.”

His eyes gaze from your eyes down to your lips and back again, a soft smile grows on his worn face as he smoothly says, “Anything for you, sugar.” The two of you continue to stare at each other as you both silently drink the delicious yellow drink, just enjoying the beautiful summer weather.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you both enjoying each other's company, along with the surrounding noise of people outside. However, there’s something different about the way you and Joel are communicating, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

—

“Okay, okay, here we go. What killed the dinosaurs?” Ellie finally gets out after a burst of laughter. Joel and you have started a game night type of thing every Friday with Ellie, Tommy, and Maria, and tonight is Cards Against Humanity.

“AIDS, oh my god,” Ellie chokes, as does the rest of the group playing, but you hear Tommy snicker under his breath. Welp, that’s Tommy’s.

“Bees?” She laughs as she sets the white card down, “I mean, what?” She shakes her head and leans back in her chair, “John Travolta’s right hand… Okayyyy.” A confused look grows on her face as she looks at Joel, but he doesn’t give any hint of whether it's his or not as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“And finally,” she flips the last white card and immediately looks at you across from her at the dining room table, you try to give her a what are you looking at sort of look, but the wine you’ve been drinking catches up to you as you try to hide your smile that’s just waiting to crack with your hand. You know it’s your card and it’s a doozy, “Old lady, you’re something else,” she shakes her head and reads, “Having no legs, just toes.”

You and Ellie are the only ones who are cracking up, both of you hitting the wooden table and starting to see tears rolling down each other's faces. The rest of the table, however, doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you both do. “That’s the winner!” Ellie hollers as she slides the black card on the table to you, and your hand stops it from flying off the table.

“I win!” You yell with excitement as you put your arms in the air and start to wave them side to side, the red wine Maria brought over giving you a boost of adrenaline and confidence to be who you truly are, and you don’t care if they don’t like it - because this is the girl you’ve wanted to be for decades, the girl who could be what she wanted and didn’t care about what others thought.

“Really? AIDS was so much better!” Tommy playfully argues with Ellie, but Ellie is quick with the rebuttal. “I know but just imagine a T-Rex with its baby arms, and with just toes and no legs!” She breaks out into a fit of laughter before she can even finish her sentence, and it causes the whole table to erupt in laughs.

God, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this - just pure happiness and comfort. It’s so heartwarming to be able to live through this moment during the time of what seems to be the end of the world, along with surviving your shit marriage. You never thought you’d be able to see or even feel this again, it’s beautiful.

After the roaring laughter dies down to a lower volume conversation about whatever Town Hall is planning for this weekend, the sudden touch of Joel’s large warm hand on your skin catches your attention. You take a second to subtly look down and you notice how his hand fits perfectly on your squishy thigh as he softly squeezes your flesh. A shudder crawls up your spine, pure ecstasy surges through your body and, god, yes, you haven’t had this feeling in years, so long you honestly don’t even know how to take care of it.

Your cheeks start to heat up and your breathing gets a bit heavy, the wine definitely not helping to keep this hidden. Without giving it a second thought, you bring your hand on top of his and give a gentle squeeze back to tell him, this is okay. Over the last couple months, the subtle flirting between you and Joel has slowly turned into something that could potentially become serious, but the conversation has never been had between you two, so it’s been a gray area for awhile now.

You’re trying to keep your full attention on Maria who is discussing to the whole table how she’s so sick of having to plan all of the events that go on in Jackson, but let’s be real, you can’t pay her any mind. All your attention is focused on Joel and his gentle touch as he slowly swipes his thumb close to your now arousal covered panties, your stomach doing flips from the anticipation, and even though you continue to nod your head with her complaints, your patience with Maria is running thin.

All you want to do right now is drag Joel upstairs and fuck him like it’s the last and only time you’ll be able to, but that’s not possible at the moment.

Joel must be thinking and feeling the same thing because he then leans into your ear and whispers for only you to hear, “Want me to send them home?” You slightly turn your head, mainly your eyes, and all you do is bite your bottom lip in a smile that’s covered by your hand, as you barely nod your dazed head.

You’re so lost in the fantasy of you and Joel finally being able to end the long-awaited game of flirting, that you’re really not even mentally here as Maria and Tommy do their farewells and Ellie tells you two that she’s gonna head over to Dina’s for the evening. It feels almost like a dream kind of state, you haven’t drank like this in god knows how many years, and you really only had three glasses of wine - but you feel like you drank a whole bottle to yourself, so you’re drunk, basically, but not in a sloppy way, just with newfound confidence.

—

Now it’s only you and Joel, just the two of you alone in this huge house, and anything could happen. As you stand in the living room a few feet away from his muscular build, you slowly make your way to the staircase, and Joel then shuts the big door behind Ellie, then locks it, twice.

Joel turns around to face you, your hand now wrapping around the brown railing that leads to the second floor. He has this smirk on his lips that shows you he’s as riled up as you are.

Feeling a bit of confidence rise in your belly, you sing to him, “Catch me if you can, Miller,” and as you start to run up the hardwood steps, only a second later, you hear him chuckle, ooh just wait, and the sound of his quick feet behind you. Normally this would terrify you, but this is different, you’re not even close to feeling scared, you actually feel excited.

You’re feeling kind of frisky too, so you decide to be a little extra; you reach the door that leads to Joel’s room at the end of the hallway and you quickly spin around to face him as he reaches the top of the steps. You strip off your flannel and undershirt, then slip the flannel back on with only your black lace bra showing. Might as well make this more fun, right?

As he sees you showing off for him, he whistles and slowly struts towards you, “My, my, darlin’,” then gently wraps his fingers around your waist and presses into your plush skin, his bearded face close to your lips, “You sure know how to put on a show.”

You gaze at his eyes, his nose and his jaw, and when you see the way he adores you, a feeling stirs in your core that you can’t place, almost like a sense of hope. But you really don’t have a clue, you can’t place it, and it scares you, but for right now you push it out of sight and out of mind because you really want this. And, well, let’s be honest - you need this.

“I thought you might deserve it,” you purr back to him as you stare into his eyes, the ones that hooked you the first time you met him, and your hand rests on his chest. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips on yours, the scratch from his beard riling you up even more, making you kiss him back with lust.

His tongue peeks out in search for permission and you eagerly open your mouth for him to lick every inch of you, his hands still on your hips but with a tighter grip, pulling you closer to grind on his hardening cock. Your hands are now grabbing his green flannel on his chest, your fingertips beginning to dig into his broad chest, both of you groaning into each other.

Somehow Joel gets his door open and you almost fall backwards into the warmth of his room, but he’s quick to catch you. “Good catch, Miller,” you chuckle as he brings you back into his chest and you begin to unbutton his shirt as he softly shuts the door behind him. He smiles as he says, “Would never let you fall, darlin’.”

Then, like a light switch flipping on, this overwhelming feeling of needing to be in control takes over, one you’ve never been able to have before in the bedroom, and you’ll be damned if that’s going to continue - this is happening on your terms only.

You swiftly spin your two bodies around, meshed together, your fingers reaching his bottom button, and when you undo it, you slide the flannel off of his shoulders and he lets it drop to the floor. Both of you pause for a moment to take in each other, and you watch his brooding chest rise and fall with his breaths, the drops of sweat that roll down his neck, and you eye his happy trail on his belly. God damn.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, sugar,” he murmurs softly as he lowers his lips to your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your pleading lips.

Your hands naturally move back to his chest, applying pressure for him to walk backwards to the queen size bed, his hands moving from your waist down to your jeans as he unbuttons them and rolls the zipper down. The feeling of Joel stopping his moving feet makes you realize that you’ve reached the mattress. “Sit on the bed,” you demand between moans and kisses.

“Yes, ma’am.” You can feel his smile on your plump lips as he leaves one last meaningful kiss, then sits down at the edge of the white comforter covering the bed, his legs spread open for you to stand between.

Even though you haven’t had satisfying sex, or gotten off at all in over ten years, not even by your own devices, the routine of it all has come back, almost like it never left you. You slowly strip yourself of your light washed jeans and discard them somewhere on his carpeted floor. Shit, you hear Joel whistle at the sight of you.

You bring your head back up to meet his gaze and you growl, “Back up to the pillows, take your jeans off first.”

“Gotta say, darlin’-” he starts sliding his jeans off and starts to move to the head of the bed, “I like you in control.”

You smile at his words and think, I do too. The image of him in front of you with his legs spread and his arms folded behind his head, just waiting for you to make your first move, makes you crave him ever more. You start to crawl on the bed towards him, your face is now above his black boxers that show an imprint of his cock.

God damn. You knew he was big, but not that big.

You continue to move up his body, along his belly and his chest, moving in rhythm with each other, and his face, his breathtaking features that you love so much. Your hands come up to wrap around the back of his neck as you sit on your knees on either side of his thighs, and your panty covered folds sit on his throbbing member, his large hands holding your ass as you start to slowly rock back and forth.

You’re so pent up that you could likely orgasm just from this, but you want to feel him fill you up and claim you as his own. No, you want to claim him - make him crumble apart for you, and only you.

The mixture of moans and groans from the both of you echo off of the bedroom walls, neither one of you trying to be quiet, not even the slightest.

“Fuck, sugar, keep doing that,” he groans as he watches the way your hips grind on his cock with such ease.

Your fingers wrap around his soft curls and firmly pull to make him look you in the eyes as you bring your lips to his in a fiery kiss. Your tongues battle for dominance for a moment before he finally gives in to you, the pressure from his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, causing goosebumps to rise all over.

With your right hand, you release the hold of his curls and you bring it down where your two bodies connect as you start to rub slow circles on your aching clit, causing your body to shudder from the motion. Your lips quiver against his and you see that cocky smile appear on his face again, “I gotchu sugar, not going anywhere.” His voice is low as he brings one of his hands down to replace yours, as he moves your panties to the side and starts to swipe through your soaked folds.

Your hips buck from the sensation of Joel’s thick fingers teasing your leaking hole and your throbbing clit, begging for attention. You feel his middle and ring finger slightly push into you, then release and go back to rub a few circles, and back in again. Each time he goes back to your hole, his fingers reach deeper inside you, creating this new feeling inside you.

A string of yes, don’t stop, and right there, roll off of your tongue from his fingers now fully inserted in your pulsating cunt as he continues to pump up and down.

Your head is in his shoulder as your hands have found their place back around his neck, your hips following the flow of Joel’s thick fingers.

“Look at you, pretty girl, sitting so pretty for me,” Joel coos into your ear, his other hand now on your hip as he continues to help your movements.

You start to feel the tightness grow in your lower belly, and you raise your head to look at him, at his beautiful brown eyes, as the overwhelming orgasm rips out of you. Your body stops moving as your mouth hangs open and a strung out moan leaves it, your forehead now resting on his, your eyes still meeting his gaze.

“There you go, let it all go, sugar,” he praises as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and moves both his hands back to rest on your ass with a gentle squeeze.

Your ears are ringing, head feels dizzy, and your breathing is heavy from the intensity of the orgasm Joel has ripped out of you, almost like you’re a virgin again from how quick he pulled it out of you.

“Thank you,” you finally utter out between heavy breaths.

His face curls, “For what?”, and you chuckle as you pull your face away from his and lay your dazed head back onto his shoulder, burying your face in his neck. You softly say with a gentle tug of his silver and brown hair now damp from sweat, “For all this.”

You listen to the pattern of his rapid heartbeat as your head lifts and lowers with his hairy chest as he chuckles, “Oh darlin’, don’t gotta thank me for that.”

You hum in response with a stupid smile, pure pleasure flowing through you from head to toe, becoming so focused on his heartbeat that you don’t even notice how your eyes slowly start to close and your breathing calms down.

“You still there, pretty girl?” Joel asks, his voice causing your ears to vibrate.

Mhmm, you hum quieter than the one before, the scent of sweat, arousal, and the mix of you and Joel fills your nose as you slowly slip into a calming deep sleep.

—

Pancakes - the familiar smell wakes you up. You yawn as your hands come to rub your eyes and your legs stretch out underneath the thin gray sheet that’s covering you. You slowly push your heavy feeling body up so you can sit, and when you do, you realize you’re alone - just you half naked, in Joel’s bedroom.

What time is it? You mumble to yourself as you turn your head to look at his nightstand, eleven-thirty am, not too bad. You’ve got to be at the stables in about an hour, and you wish you had a bit more time to get ready, but oh well.

A sudden soreness shoots from between your legs as you stand up from the bed. That’s right - you and Joel slept together. Or, actually, he just fingered you, but still-

Oh god, you start to genuinely panic, he never got anything in return, he’s gonna be pissed. Even after growing out of your battered self, you are right back in it, that horrified feeling growing in your stomach and mind all over again. Your mind starts to become overwhelmed by the questions you’re asking yourself, questions that shouldn’t even be on your mind.

Why did you do that? How do you end up in these situations all the time? Why couldn’t you just give him a blowjob or something? God, why do you always have to mess it up?

The soft knocking on the door to the hallway startles you, so you quickly grab your jeans on the carpet and spring into the bathroom and quietly shut the door.

“Darlin’?” You hear Joel’s southern voice question into the now empty bedroom. “I’m in the bathroom,” you chirp out as you pull your jeans up and button them.

“Everything okay?” He must’ve heard the tension in your voice, though you tried your best to hide it, unsure of how he feels about last night.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” You respond a bit more defensive than you wanted.

“Was just askin, but I wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready for you downstairs.”

“Thank you, baby, I’ll be down in a minute.”

You hope that you’re convincing enough for him because you just want to be left alone to think for a second. You hear him sigh, alright, sugar, followed by the click of the door shutting, and now it’s your turn to sigh as you stare at your reflection in the long mirror in front of you.

Your PTSD brain has kicked into full gear, realizing that this is exactly how it started with Nate. Your first time with him was all focused on you, and he said it was okay at the time, and even made breakfast, pancakes, just for you the next morning. But then, the next time you wanted to have sex, he had no regard for you at all - you became his personal rag doll, for him to please himself whenever, however he wanted.

It’s starting to become a sick, repetitive cycle that for some reason just keeps happening to you. Your hands grip the granite counter and you start to rock back and forth, how could you be so stupid? You bend your knees and put your forehead on the edge of the counter next to your hands and you start to cry and cry.

—

You eat breakfast in silence, and even though Joel and Ellie keep trying to engage you in their conversation, you just stare at your plate and try to eat whatever your stomach allows.

After about ten minutes of mindlessly playing with your pancakes and not paying any mind to the conversation the other two were having, you abruptly stand up and gently put your dishes on the counter next to the sink.

“I’m heading next door to grab a couple things, then I’m going to the stables,” you say flatly, and before either one of them can say anything back to you, you’re out the kitchen, through the living room, snagging your bow and arrows that are hanging up, and heading out the front door.

I gotta get out of here.

You enter your old home and you're on autopilot again, your feelings turned off, thinking you’d be hyperventilating if you set foot in here again, but now, you’re not you anymore.

After making sure you locked the door behind you, so no one can barge in asking any questions, especially Joel, you run upstairs to your bedroom you once dreaded walking into. As you push the still broken door open, and you’re not shocked to see it’s in the exact same disaster the night you escaped. He’s such a pig, hasn’t cleaned up in over a year.

You take a deep breath in and out through your nose as you walk in and go immediately to your closet, then grab your dark blue travel backpack you had while you were on your own, and you start to fill the bottom with random clothes that are on your closet floor.

After you feel like you’ve packed enough, you head back downstairs to the kitchen and you start to raid whatever is left in the cupboards, finding cans of random foods that you stuff into the bag.

Lastly, you speed walk over to the front hallway closet and as you swing it open to grab the warm blanket on the top self when you hear rapid knocking and you freeze.

“Please, let me in darlin’.”

Knew it, you mumble as you shove the blanket in the top of the bag and zip it up, you then softly close the closet door and tiptoe to the kitchen, still out of sight of the front door, but another round of knocks happen and they’re louder, followed by the sound of Joel pleading your name, “I just wanna talk.”

You stop at the sound of your name flowing out his mouth with such concern and perfect ease, almost like your name was meant to roll off of his tongue, but you shake those feelings away. You continue to sneakily go out the backdoor, so you don’t have to confront Joel. You just can’t handle it, you know it would be your last straw.

After you shut the backdoor, with your backpack on along with your bow and arrow holder, you sprint between yards to the shortcut path to reach the stables, gotta grab Dougie, your horse you named after your father who passed three years before your mom got with Roy.

—

You sneak past the grocery store, not wanting to be seen by anyone who might ask questions about you having your backpack. You’re still on autopilot at this point, you just want to escape from the suffocating feeling of Jackson and its residents, needing time to really think about what’s going on with yourself.

It’s a little bit past twelve-thirty so Main Street isn’t too busy, most people out doing their jobs or going to the Tipsy Bison or Kenny’s Burgers for their lunch break. Now is the perfect time for you to jump the fence on the other side of the stables and grab Dougie, which you achieve with no problems, thank god.

However, your next difficult task is to come up with an excuse to let Vince, who’s in charge of letting people come in and go out of Jackson, to let you out of here with limited questions.

You’re on a time limit because at any given moment, Joel or Ellie will be here knocking on the barn doors, or they’ll do what you did and hop the fence to get in, and you wouldn’t be shocked if they did, because you know they care about you. So you quickly run over to your beautiful dark brown horse, who huffs as you pet his long face. Hi dad, you sigh, we’re gonna go on a little trip okay?

You unhook his reins and walk him over to the fenced in area, then open up the wooden gate and lead him out as you shut the gate to make it seem like nothing has changed. You finally mount Dougie and do a slight pull on the brown leather rein to tell him it’s time you go, just say Tommy’s okay with this and that Joel is coming after you later.

Thankfully the stables aren’t too far from the massive gate separating the infected from the living so you’re there in seconds, and just like you expected, Vince starts asking questions, but with genuine concern on why you’re going out.

“I’m just going out for a bit, want to take Dougie out for a ride,” you yell up to him as you put your hand above your eyes to shield the gleaming sun.

“By yourself?”

“Tommy is cool with it, and Joel will be coming after me later. I’ll be okay, Vince, I promise.” You nod and smile trying to convince him that this is okay.

He hesitates for a second, your anxiety starting to affect your limbs, your legs slightly shaking in the stirrups. You’re biting your bottom lip and your hands are starting to become clammy and sweaty. Vince, c’monnn.

“I’ll be back with Joel in a couple hours.” You yell at one last attempt to make him open the gates.

“Um, okay. Just … Please be safe by yourself.” He forces a smile, “Open Her Up!” He yells to the guy across from him.

“Thank you, Vince!” You yell up to him as you blow up a kiss to him, and just like that, you and Dougie are off on your own, running into the beautiful wooded land, with no real plan on what you’re doing out here.

—

You’ve been gone for just under a month, after you left Jackson, Dougie took off with you into the woods for a couple miles without stopping until you inevitably had to because the sun went down. You stopped and stayed one night at the same Motel 6 that Nate and Tommy found you in decades ago, and the next day you and Dougie went another couple miles until you found this beautiful little cabin surrounded by dandelions flooding the massive yard in front.

It was perfect for what you needed, a quiet and secluded spot for you to really explore and understand your mind and your emotions.

The two days you had been out, you only ran into just around a dozen runners and clickers, which was a piece of cake for you, and in all honesty, it was therapeutic to be able to really be you for a change.

You haven’t been outside in the real world in years and a part of you deeply misses the independence you once had, along with the constant feeling of accomplishment you received from taking down infected, or people if necessary.

The sun is just beginning to set, the sky a beautiful dark orange with a hint of bright pink hue that meshes perfectly together, and you’re sitting on the front porch on the singular brown rocking chair, ironically all very similar to yours in Jackson. You have a glass of lemonade in your hand as you gaze at the sky, and somehow, the drink is not as good as when Joel makes it for you. What is his secret?

This getaway was supposed to be healing for you, and it really has been overall, however, there’s a piece of your heart that deeply misses Ellie and Joel. This was supposed to be a way for you to make a decision as to whether Joel is exactly like Nate, with the manipulation tactics, or if he’s actually nothing like him.

Your brain knows that Joel is nothing like Nate, the complete opposite actually, however even after a year of excluding Nate as a person, you’re still in fight or flight mode. You are simply not as healed as you thought you were, and that’s okay, but you gotta find something to help you cope through it, you can’t just push it to the back burner.

You glance over to your right and you see Dougie grazing on some tall grass just a about a yard away from you, a soft smile warming your face as you stare at his beautiful brown hair and watch how he peacefully eats without a worry in the world - you wish that could be you, just a horse grazing without a care in the world, what a life.

You sigh as you bring your attention back to the summer sunset, the sound of crickets and birds chirping rings through your ears. You inhale and the smell of fresh flowers and the warm summer air overtake your senses, you lean back in the chair and bring your feet up on the seat as it slowly rocks your body back and forth.

The glass of tasteless lemonade sits on the small round wooden table in front of you and you stare at it, the condensation on the outside of the tall glass pools down around the bottom and creates a dark ring on the table. Why couldn’t you just stay with Joel?

As you continue to stare at the glass, a shadow starts to appear on the other side, you quickly stand up and grab your bow and arrow that’s on the floor next to you. Without any hesitation you grab an arrow and draw your bow back, the string taught against your cheek as you aim the slim arrow at the person riding a lighter brown horse, no way, you think.

The person riding this beautiful horse is about twenty-five feet away from you now, and as you try to make out the face of this mystery man, it finally registers, Joel.

This sense of relief overtakes your body, you drop your bow right at your feet and you stand there in absolute shock, how the hell did he find you all the way out here?

“Joel,” you gasp as hot tears roll down your face.

Before you know it, you watch as Joel jumps off his horse and runs to you, when he finally reaches your shaking body he wraps his large hands around your torso and picks you up like a feather, and he spins you around.

Oh my pretty girl, babygirl, I thought I lost you forever, and what are you doing all the way out here? Spews out of Joel’s mouth, you latch your arms and legs around his thick body as you continue to sob into his neck.

“I’m so sorry.” You repeat over and over.

Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl, he softly repeats back to you, I gotchu now.

The two of you hold onto each other like that for a long time. You don’t know why you ever left Jackson, you don’t know why you left Ellie, and finally, you have no idea why you left Joel. All you do know is that you’ll never leave Joel ever again. Not by your own choice, anyway.

Tags: @evyiione @oscarissac2099 @southernbe @pedrosfanny

[mikuyuuss]

The Glory: my thoughts so far

Broke: I love you.

Woke: I will k1ll for you.

So I'm watching this show called "The Glory" it's about a girl named Moon Dong Eun who's plotting to get revenge on her high school classmates and teacher who bullied her, and by bullying I mean (extremely violent mental and physical abuse, which left her body disfigured, and her life ruined)

And I gotta say, THE REVENGE PLOT IN THIS SHOW IS REALLY SATISFYING SO FAR

There's already so much media that vilifies bully victims, so SEEING A BULLY VICTIM AS THE MAIN CHARACTER THAT WE ARE ROOTING FOR IS SO REFRESHING.

I haven't watched that many kdramas but this is also the reason why I appreciated Gangnam Beauty, bc just like The Glory, both the female leads are 

not vilified by the narrative for their unconventional choices, (Kang Mi-rae for her plastic surgery and now Moon Dong Eun for her revenge). In The Glory, the the trauma Dong Eun had to endure while being abused by her classmates and teacher was portrayed in a very sympathetic light, and the story instead pins the blame on the people and the circumstances that led her to make those choices. Not to mention her bullies live good lives but continue to be terrible people with NO REMORSE for their actions even in adulthood, so while Dong Eun's revenge is still morally questionable, it is also VERY understandable.

Another thing I LOVE is how realistic Dong Eun's revenge plot is executed. The show and the Dong Eun herself is aware of the disadvantages she has (with the laws and all) and so she carefully executes her revenge in the way that she doesn't have to get her hands dirty. WHICH MAKES THE REVENGE TO THESE TERRIBLE PEOPLE ALL THE MORE SATISFYING! Remember that teacher who abused her? Yeah, She orchestrated his son to kill him, by simply confessing what the teacher did to her (bc she knows how much their family values reputation) HONESTLY QUEEN, LOVE THAT FOR HER! (also the irony that she also became a teacher like him except better, and is actually kind to her students)

And this show isn't exactly the usual "ReVENGe is BAd!! DOn't throw away your life for reVEnge!!" In fact, most of Dong Eun's allies actually support her because they understand just how evil her former highschool bullies are that they needed to be punished.

Which leads to the scene with Dong Eun and her love interest Ju Yeo-jeong. When she first confessed how she was planning revenge against her bullies, Yeo-jeong thought it was just some light bullying, until she undressed and showed the disfigured scars littered across her body. Yeo-jeong being a doctor, saw her scars and understood how much she suffered that he wept. He went from telling her not to pursue revenge to declared that he is willing to be her accomplish hence this scene.

MURDEROUS VENGEFUL COUPLE, Love that for them. They probably won't come out of this unscathed, but I really want them to WIN and get a happy ending, idk if that's too much to ask for. 😩😩😩😩

[bluebeary-jay]

Congrats on 1k! 💙 hopefully I'm not late with this? My request is Oberyn + 'if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous.' Anything but angst 🫢

I felt inspired by this one 😌💕 (2.2K of fluff and a sprinkle of some suggestive content but nothing graphic)

Thank you so much darling for requesting!! 🥰💗 I was thrilled when I saw two oberyn asks in my inbox idk why but I love writing for him! Sorry for the wait and I hope you'll enjoy it. Love you!! 💙

Oberyn always said that he did not wish to commit to any serious relationship, for in his mind it equaled to being trapped. But then he met, and eventually married, you – and his beliefs altered slightly. The love you two shared was incomparable to anything else he ever experienced and now there was no doubt in his mind that his whole being belonged to you and you alone. And it was the most wondrous feeling.

It didn’t mean, however, that there was no room in your lives and bed for other people. Especially if they were there to give his gorgeous wife an infinite amount of pleasure.

Oberyn never wanted to unconsciously push you to do anything you weren’t set on doing and the most important thing for him was to make it abundantly clear that his love was reserved only for you. The many beautiful people he occasionally invited to your shared chambers (with your knowledge, of course) were there only to enhance your and his physical pleasure.

He never felt jealousy toward any of them and always made sure your comfort came before anything else so you wouldn’t have to endure this bitter, poisonous feeling, either. And for months, everything was perfect.

But then something changed. All of it happened because of Jorral.

He was one of the helpers in the palace, tall and handsome, with skin smoother than silk. Oberyn assigned him as your personal servant a long time ago to cater to your every need whenever he wasn’t by your side or was summoned by his brother, but he was never worried about leaving you with another man. You were safe in the palace, after all, and the Prince trusted you completely, so the thought of something happening never even crossed his mind.

But then, after seeing how attentive Jorral was to your comfort, he had the bright idea to invite the servant to your bedroom so that they could both give you pleasure a man with only two hands and one tongue wouldn’t be able to. And you loved it. Oberyn loved it, too, of course – seeing you being worshiped by others in the way you deserved always gave him a sense of pride and happiness that he was able to provide it for you.

But even though it was a one-time occurrence, the interaction between you and Jorral shifted significantly.

None of this was your fault, Oberyn understood. He knew you long enough to realize that so very often you weren’t even aware of being flirted with – a fact he experienced first-hand when he was courting you, and one which Jorral seemed to abuse. Leaving flowers in your room and bringing you your favorite sweets between meals was alright – after all, the Prince of Dorne ordered it long before your wedding. But touching you, making up excuses to be alone with you and sitting way too close when Oberyn wasn’t present was somehow way too much.

A vile poison of unknown origin entered his veins and Oberyn Martell was no longer acting like himself. He didn’t know what was happening, and his mind was clouded by the consuming desire to have you as close as possible whenever there was another person nearby. It was an odd feeling for him. Foreign. He never experienced such compulsion before, the need to flaunt the proof of your marital union in front of everyone.

For weeks now he tried to restrain himself against such behavior. It was your choice who you spent your free time with and he’d be a hypocrite if he started to scrutinize everyone you wanted to be close to.

But he realized he didn’t have any problem with other people. It was just Jorral.

One afternoon, he wandered along the water gardens, knowing you’ll probably be here at this time of the day. He tried to get the thoughts of Jorral out of his mind, of the flirtatious smile he directed at you before Oberyn had to leave for a meeting. He reminded himself over and over again that it didn’t bother him and that it didn’t even mean anything when it was him you were married to.

Then, he heard your soft laugh on the other side of a tall hedge, beautiful like twinkling windchimes on the breeze, and all tension left his body – but only for a split second. Because the voice that answered you belonged to your personal servant.

Quietly as a viper, Oberyn went around the wall of green to where you were standing – and indeed there you were, with your back to him and Jorral standing in front of you, touching your forearm. The servant’s eyes darted to Oberyn and he immediately withdrew his hand, but before he could alert you of the Prince’s presence, he took a long stride and snaked his arms around your waist.

“My flower,” he murmured into your temple with a smile, pressing your back closer to his chest when you gasped, startled.

“Oberyn,” you breathed with relief when you finally noticed him. You placed your hand over your rapidly beating heart, but your body was already relaxing in his hold. “Gods, you scared me to death.”

“Apologies,” he said in a raspy voice as his lips latched onto your neck in a tender manner. “My heart was calling for you. I couldn’t wait to have my sweet wife back in my arms.”

You smiled and leaned against him as he whispered words of poetry in your ear. Your hands covered his, wrapped around your waist, and your eyes closed in pleasure as he kissed your neck again and again – completely oblivious to the dark look your Prince was giving Jorral. “I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.”

“You’re here now.” You tilted your head, laying it on his shoulder so that you could see him. Oberyn smiled brightly when you lifted one of his hands to your lips and kissed his fingers, but it wasn’t just because of his wife’s affections – his eyes flickered to the man standing next to you, making sure that he’s watching. “How was the meeting with your brother?”

“Long and dull without you there. I couldn’t stop thinking about how ethereal you looked when I left you, still half-asleep and tangled in the sheets in my bed.”

He put more pressure on those last two words than he intended, but you didn’t seem to notice. Instead you turned to Jorral and thanked him for keeping you company before mentioning something about the topic you previously discussed. Oberyn’s features hardened as his hands roamed aimlessly over your body, craving your full attention, but the smile quickly returned to his face. His thumb – not even on purpose – brushed the underside of your breast, making you squirm and squeal.

“Easy, my love.” He did it again, this time deliberately and chuckled when you said his name chidingly. “You’re always so responsive to my touch,” Oberyn murmured, not even caring now if the other man could hear him. Your proximity was so intoxicating and all his senses were focused solely on you, screaming at him to kiss you already.

So he did.

The Prince of Dorne tilted your chin up gently and brought his lips to yours, his tongue invading your mouth before you even knew what was happening. You whimpered under the onslaught of his open-mouthed kisses, but the sounds you were making only served to fuel Oberyn’s desire. He cupped your cheek, wanting you closer, yearning to touch you as much as possible while you returned his soft caresses. Oberyn knew of your shy nature and could almost feel your inner conflict, the hesitancy whether to bring him closer or push him away – but the love of his action melted your resolve soon enough, making you putty in his hands.

Oberyn pulled away slightly, tugging at your bottom lip trapped between his teeth and making you moan. He relished in those pretty sounds, as well as the shivers raking your body when he moved lower, nibbling at your neck.

“My love…” you began before sighing in pleasure again.

Your husband didn’t stop his actions, trailing his nose down the column of your neck and inhaling your scent.

“You smell nice,” he hummed, burying his nose in the spot where your neck met your shoulder and pressing his lips there tenderly. “Did you bathe beforehand?”

“Yes, Jorral helped me,” you answered matter-of-factly, missing the twitch on Oberyn’s face. “That oil you gifted me recently smelled so good, I didn’t want to get out.”

“That’s true. The Princess stayed in the tub until the water turned cold,” Jorral spoke up for the first time since Oberyn arrived. He smiled sweetly at you, making you return the gesture and Oberyn arch his eyebrow.

“Is that so?” Oberyn asked blandly, staring at the other man. “Wait for me next time, my love. I’d love nothing more than to help you myself.”

“If you wish so.” You brushed his cheek with your fingertips and his eyes flickered back to your concerned ones. “But it’s fine, you know. Jorral is a great help to me an–”

“What do you say we retire to our chambers?” Oberyn interrupted with a sensual purr, putting back a smile on his face. “I wish to hold you in my arms, my love, with your naked body pressed against mine.”

“Oberyn,” you whispered bashfully, looking away in embarrassment. He chuckled, glancing above your shoulder at the other man who seemed increasingly more uncomfortable and bitter by the situation.

“My wife looks so beautiful with this blush adoring her cheeks, does she not?” he asked Jorral, his voice poisonously sweet like a viper’s venom. The servant didn’t give any indication that he heard him, making Oberyn’s eyes darken. “I asked you a question.”

Jorral met his challenging stare begrudgingly. “She does, my Prince.” Then he turned to you. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my Princess?”

“No,” Oberyn answered instead of you. “I’ll make sure she wants for nothing when she’s with me. Now leave.”

He felt your eyes on his face, but didn’t turn around and continued staring at Jorral. A couple of seconds passed between two men before the servant clenched his teeth and bowed his head before making his way back to the palace. Oberyn no longer tried to hide the smug smile tugging at his lips, and only after he disappeared from sight and you were left alone, he turned to look at you.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” you asked with your eyebrow raised, but Oberyn just offered you an easy-going smile.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, my love.” He pulled you into his arms, humming as his eyes followed his large hand tracing your curves. “I was merely anxious to be alone with you.”

“You never minded other people watching… or participating, for that matter.” Oberyn beamed under your scrutinizing gaze, and you squinted at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

There was no reason to feel sheepish or deny your accusations. If anything, he was proud that his wonderful, smart partner saw right through him.

“Of whom would I be?” he teased instead of answering, tugging you behind him as he made his way backwards to one of the stone benches set nearby. “I am a Prince of Dorne and you’re my beautiful wedded wife. I’ve no reason to be insecure.”

“So it has nothing to do with Jorral?” you asked with fake innocence, but Oberyn shook his head. His knees hit the cold edge of the seat and he plopped down, gazing up at you with love so overwhelming that it threatened to drive him mad. You pressed your lips together to hide a smile on your pretty face when he pulled you to stand between his legs. “So it doesn’t bother you that he bathed me so thoroughly today?”

Oberyn’s body stiffened against his will before he realized that you were just teasing, but it was too late – you gasped and a look of triumph spread across your face.

“You are jealous!” you giggled and Oberyn sighed, leaning his head on your stomach. His hands caressed the back of your thighs slowly, inching higher with each loving stroke.

“What have you done to me, my love?” he asked dramatically, making you laugh again. “Before I surrendered my heart to you, I never felt so sick from watching any of my lovers with another person.”

“But you know you needn’t worry, right?” you inquired softly, leaning down to kiss his hairline, your fingers trailing down his short beard. “I belong only to you, darling. No one else could ever compare.”

A brilliant smile spread across his cheeks and Oberyn tugged on your wrist, encouraging you to sit down on his lap. Once you did, he hugged you tightly, cupping your cheek with his other hand.

“What would my gorgeous wife say to a horse ride along the seashore?” he whispered, gazing up into your eyes. “Just the two of us?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly, smiling against his lips.

“She’d love that. But I’m afraid her handsome husband will have to help her change into more appropriate clothes.”

All thoughts of other men left his mind as Oberyn brushed his nose against yours, his chest expanding with overwhelming love at the simple sight of your smile.

“I’m sure he’d love that, too.”

[scrollonso]

Untitled 5 — Aleix/Max

Max’s heart raced as he lay beside Aleix, their bodies entangled in the quiet aftermath of another night spent together. The room was bathed in soft, early-morning light, casting long shadows across the bed.

Everything was still, except for their breathing, the only sound breaking the silence. For months, this had become their routine — stolen moments of passion, whispers in the dark, where they could pretend, for just a little while, that nothing else existed beyond the walls of the room. They found solace in each other’s arms, the outside world falling away each time their bodies met. But it was never enough, not for Max.

As Max gazed at Aleix, still catching his breath, he felt the familiar ache return, the one that always followed. It settled deep in his chest, a gnawing emptiness that grew each time he had to walk away. The ache of wanting more, of wanting Aleix to himself. It was a painful contradiction — the closeness they shared, the intimacy of their touch, only served to remind Max of what he couldn’t have. He wanted all of Aleix, not just the fragments he was allowed to hold onto in these fleeting moments.

Max had fallen hard, and he’d fallen fast. He knew it the moment they first touched, the moment Aleix’s steady hands had drawn him in, fingers brushing against skin that felt too warm, too electric to resist. It wasn’t just lust — though the chemistry between them was undeniable, an almost magnetic pull that kept bringing them back together, no matter how hard either tried to resist. It was everything Aleix was: older, confident, grounded in ways that Max wasn’t. A father, someone who had a family with Laura, even if that family was just a cover for the truth they both shared.

Max couldn’t deny the pang of envy he felt every time he watched Aleix with Mia and Maxie. The way his face softened, the way his arms enveloped them in hugs that seemed to protect them from the world. Maxie and Mia might have been part of the facade, but the love Aleix showed them was real, and Max envied that tenderness. He wanted that love for himself, more than anything in the world. He wanted to be the one Aleix came home to, the one he held onto in the quiet moments of life. But every time he let himself dream of that possibility, the reality came crashing back.

Aleix was conflicted. He always had been. Max could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way Aleix sometimes hesitated before their lips met, or how he would pull away just a fraction too soon. He saw the way Aleix looked at him, with wide eyes full of an intensity that both thrilled and terrified him. It wasn’t just lust between them, but something more. Max could feel it every time Aleix touched him, every time they shared a lingering glance across a crowded room. But something held Aleix back, something that always seemed just out of Max’s reach.

Max had been through so much already, more than most people ever should. He’d spoken to Aleix in quiet moments about his father, about the abuse he endured. Aleix had listened, his face unreadable but his hands always gentle, as if he was afraid to break Max even further. And then there was Kelly — the woman who had once been everything to Max. She had used him, too, just like his father had. The scars from that relationship ran deep, leaving Max raw and vulnerable in ways that Aleix feared to touch. Max was still so young, only 21, and Aleix couldn’t shake the feeling that he was treading on dangerous ground. He didn’t want to take advantage of Max’s vulnerability, no matter how much they both wanted each other.

Yet here they were again, tangled in each other’s arms. The air around them was thick with unspoken words, words Aleix had been avoiding for months. He knew what Max wanted, could see it every time they were together. But he wasn’t sure he could give it to him. Aleix’s life was a complicated web of lies and half-truths, carefully constructed to protect himself and his family. And Max, with his openness and his intensity, threatened to unravel everything.

Max shifted beside him, his head resting on Aleix’s chest, his fingers tracing absent patterns over Aleix’s skin. The silence between them was heavy, pregnant with the weight of all the things they weren’t saying. Max’s touch was soft, but there was a tension in the way he moved, a hesitancy that Aleix recognized all too well. He could feel Max’s heart pounding against his ribs, could feel the way Max was holding back, as if waiting for Aleix to say something, anything, to make this easier.

But Aleix couldn’t. He didn’t have the words. All he had was the crushing sense that, no matter what he did, he was going to hurt Max.

“Why won’t you leave her?” Max’s voice was soft, but Aleix could hear the edge of desperation. This was always how their nights ended. The weight of the question lingered in the air like a storm threatening to break, and Aleix could feel it coming, just like every other time. He hated this moment, hated the inevitable confrontation that followed the passion.

Aleix sighed, running a hand through his hair, already exhausted from the conversation he knew was coming. He could still feel the warmth of Max’s body beside him, but it wasn’t comforting now. “Sweetheart, it’s not that simple.”

“It is,” Max insisted, sitting up fully now, his bare chest rising and falling with the remnants of frustration bubbling beneath the surface. His eyes searched Aleix’s face, pleading for some sign that this time, things would be different. “You don’t even love her, not like this.” Max’s voice dropped, quieter now, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over the Spaniard's chest. Each touch was soft, intimate, but it carried the weight of everything Max was holding back. “You said it yourself.”

Aleix turned away, unable to meet Max’s gaze. He hated the way Max’s words cut right to the heart of things, exposing the truth Aleix had been avoiding. He didn’t love Laura, not like this. Their marriage was built on lies, a carefully constructed facade to keep up appearances, to shield Aleix from the world that would never understand him. But it wasn’t about love — at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. “It’s not about love. It’s about—"

“About what?” Max cut in, his voice rising in frustration, spilling over the edges of the calm he had been trying so hard to maintain. “The twins? They don’t even know, Aleix. I can be there for them, we can be happy.” His voice cracked, and Aleix felt it like a knife twisting in his chest. Max’s vulnerability was laid bare, his heart exposed in a way that made Aleix want to pull him close and never let go. “But you’re choosing to stay in a lie, with her, when you could have this.” His hand pressed against Aleix’s chest, right over his heart. “You could have me.”

Aleix’s chest tightened. The air around them felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in, and all he could see was the pain in Max’s eyes. He had told himself a thousand times that this was just a fling, something temporary, a way to forget about the complications of his life for a few stolen hours. But seeing Max like this, so open, so hopeful, made his heart twist. He wanted to give Max what he was asking for. He wanted to say yes, to let everything else fall away and hold onto Max as tightly as he could.

But every time he looked at him, he saw the boy who had been broken by his father, the boy who was still healing from someone the same age as Aleix. He remembered the nights Max had confided in him, sharing pieces of his past that still haunted him, the scars left by people who had taken advantage of his vulnerability. Aleix couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to hurt him more.

“I’m too old for you, Max,” Aleix said finally, his voice low, as if the words were being dragged out of him against his will. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Max shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears that he fought to keep from falling. His voice trembled with the effort to hold himself together. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m some stupid kid who doesn’t know what he wants.” His voice cracked, raw emotion spilling over. “I’ve known for months, Aleix. I want you.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.” Aleix’s voice was pained, and Max could hear it, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less. He could feel the weight of everything Aleix wasn’t saying, the fear hiding behind his careful facade, but it didn’t change the way it tore at Max’s heart.

Max’s hands balled into fists, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. “Then stop sleeping with me!” His voice was louder now, the vulnerability replaced by a sharp edge, hurt spilling over into anger. He pulled away entirely, sitting up and yanking the sheets closer to himself. “If you don’t want me, if this is just... if I’m just too young, then stop. But don’t sit here and pretend like this isn’t what you want too.” His voice trembled, a mix of heartbreak and anger, and Aleix felt his stomach twist with guilt.

Aleix closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Max’s words settle over him like a suffocating blanket. He wanted Max. He wanted him in ways he couldn’t even explain, in ways that went beyond their physical connection. But every time they got close, that guilt clawed at him, reminding him of everything Max had been through, telling him that he was no better than the people who had hurt Max before.

“I’m sorry,” Aleix whispered, his voice barely audible. It was all he could manage, the only words that felt safe to say in the face of everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Max stood, grabbing his clothes with shaky hands, each movement sharp and filled with frustration. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice cold and distant now, a stark contrast to the warmth they’d shared just minutes ago. “You’re just afraid. Afraid of being with me because it would mean leaving your perfect little life behind.” His words were harsh, each one a dagger aimed at Aleix’s heart. “You’d rather keep pretending, keep hurting me, than face the truth.”

Aleix opened his mouth to argue, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He could feel Max slipping away from him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach out, to stop him. The door closed behind Max with a soft click, and Aleix was left alone in the quiet, the air heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

His heart ached, the pain settling deep in his chest as he realized that in trying to protect Max, he had only pushed him further away.

[amethysts-tavern]

My bard’s response to Astarion telling her about his failed plan. There’s a reason she’s the way she is.

——————-

I had a plan.

“Look, I had a plan. A nice simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy - instinctive. Habits from 200 years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice simple plan fell apart.” Astarion bared his soul to you at camp one night.

If only he knew that you had been doing the same thing to him. As a bard, it’s in your nature to be flirty with everyone so that they’d like you and tip you well, whether your musical performance warranted it or not. Get them to like you as long as you need them and then move on to the next town. You had lived your life by those words.

You could sense that he didn’t like you very much at the beginning. Unlike Gale, who hung on your every word, Astarion had a wall up from the moment you met. You had flirted hard with him to crack that wall and get him to like you. You had even taken him to bed after the grove party, just because you could. It was easy.

But now, after all you’d been through together - learning about the abuse he endured from Cazador, trying to understand the scars carved into his back, and trying to get him to like you through whatever means possible - your plan also went out the window. You had also started having feelings for the pale elf in front of you. Genuine feelings of… something. It wasn’t lust. That was an emotion you were quite familiar with. Friendship? Love? Whatever it was, you weren’t used to it and it scared the hell out of you. But there was also something comforting in it. Something that made you feel safe.

“You… you’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real,” he continued.

“I care about you. Deeply,” you respond quietly.

“Really?” Astarion looked so surprised.

As a bard, you’re not usually at a loss for words, but in that moment, all you could do to convey your emotion was to slowly step close and wrap your arms around him. He seemed so frightened at the display of affection that it took him a moment before he returned the embrace, tenderly holding you close to his heart for the briefest of moments.

“Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next,” Astarion had said, extending a hand to you. You placed your hand in his and he fully enveloped it with both of his as he stepped toward you. “But I know this? This is nice,” he had said, giving you the most genuine smile you had seen on him since you’d met. He seemed at peace for once. And for the first time ever, you felt no reason to run.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Why certain people should stop comparing Rhaenyra to Cersei, and start comparing Alicent to that she-Lion:

Another weak argument brought forward by the greens and about to be nipped in the butt by me: that somehow Rhaenyra is just like Cersei.

Is she really? Is that all you (and you know who you are) can bring to the table? Why? Simply because they both have children of questionable parentage? That’s it?

Green team can take notes:

1. Rhaenyra is the reigning Queen of the ruling House Targaryen =/= Cersei is only a queen consort. Why is that relevant you ask? Because the paternity of Rhaenyra’s children hardly matters when the blood of the ruling House runs through their veins. Even if they are born out of wedlock, the boys are still Targaryen by blood and can be legitimized by the monarch. It happened many times along the years.

Cersei’s children were not of the blood of the ruling House Baratheon. By passing them off as Baratheons, Cersei committed treason. Not to mention that Lannisters don’t get a pass like the Targaryens when it comes to incest.

2. Laenor, the consort, openly recognized the boys as his own, and so did Corlys, their grandfather and the Lord of Driftmark, even though they knew the truth.

Robert Baratheon, the King, had no idea that the children weren’t his. And he never found out.

3. Cersei and Tywin Lannister have plotted for years to steal the throne from the ruling House Baratheon, just like Alicent and her father are doing to House Targaryen. This resemblance cannot be ignored.

4. Rhaenyra Targaryen has properly raised her children and has truly instilled in them compassion, honor, decency and respect. She has never once tried to turn her children against their uncles Aegon and Aemond, even though she could have. And she was a teenage mom, just like Alicent. The only difference is that Rhaenyra also had to carry the burden of being married to a man who can’t perform in bed with her or any woman.

Alicent, on the other hand, although she seems to have some sort of twisted love towards her children, just like Cersei, she chose to instill in them hatred, deviousness and cruelty. Alicent chose to turn her children against their half-sister Rhaenyra and her children. And as a result, she has:

- a rapist (Aegon) = almost a Joffrey 2.0

- a frustrated murderer (Aemond)

- a nutcase (Helaena) - it’s one thing to be a dreamer and a whole other to be completely out of touch with reality. I am sure if Helaena had been raised by Rhaenyra, she would have turned out differently.

Alicent must be so proud. Instead of pointing fingers at other people’s children, she should take a good look at her own family tree.

The same could be said for Cersei and that monster she raised (Joffrey). And if she had actually bothered to give Tommen as much attention as she gave Joffrey, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a naive wimp.

All in all, both Cersei and Alicent failed Parenting 101.

5. Rhaenyra has NEVER displayed the type of cruelty that Cersei has from the very beginning.

Alicent on the other hand…emotionally abused Rhaenyra and forced her many times to get out of her birthing bed and present her the children (as if it is any of her business, as a mere consort), showed her true nature when she called out to have Lucerys’ eye removed as so-called “fair” punishment for what happened to her son (I have never heard of a child to be forced by adults to endure permanent physical impairment after a fight between children regardless of the outcome of that fight), and attacked Rhaenyra.

This type of cruelty that Alicent displayed, often reminded me of Cersei. The only difference is that at least Cersei has always owned up to what she has done. Alicent never owned up to anything and tried to justify herself by putting on the Virgin Mary act.

Conclusion:

Alicent Hightower = weaker and more pathetic version of Cersei Lannister

#TEAM BLACK 🖤