#disgusts in that way. functionally. what an awful way to live.

[plaquerat]

hate how like. even know it feels like any connection is impossible to form and maintain. pretty much not speaking to any irl friends bc they have all been sexually weird to us on some level and it's something that needs Help before even attempting to interact again. there is a deep want to have someone deeply close again but multiple times it has been highly destructive due to naturally obsessive personality. scrupulosity is still an issue so the rational (person i like is busy) is Known but irrational (i did a BAD THING and i am being PUNISHED because i am BAD) overrides the emotions. hell.

[headspace-hotel]

It's important to not force your human morals onto non-human nature, like "this creature, since it disgusts me, is bad" or "this creature, since it has behaviors I interpret as sweet and heartwarming, is good"

But if you study nature whether in life or in profession, nature will make you feel disgusted and uncomfortable, it's not necessary to act as if those feelings don't exist within you, because they are part of your encounter with the otherness of nature, and contain sensitivities that can be sharpened into their own ingredient to knowledge and awareness

Coexisting with discomforting parts of the reality of Nature without trying to resolve them into a moral or aesthetic framework you are happy with, reflects maturity

It is no good to "redeem" a hated animal if the redemption is another false idea of the animal as innocent and good. This implies that a creature's "goodness" is a valid reason it deserves existence. It is also no good to treat a beloved animal with hatred to make things fair.

A good example is with dolphins and sharks, dolphins were seen as good and cute and almost human, whereas sharks were seen as bloodthirsty killers, and this has cost the lives of sharks while dolphins are given more sympathy, so some people have tried to turn it around, portraying sharks as gentle and good while pointing out that dolphins can be violent and rape other dolphins.

A lot of dolphin behaviors are certainly upsetting, definitely it makes sense to be upset that an animal can engage in what appears like cruelty, but human morality isn't made to apply to non- humans, and a particular behavior is not the entire reality of what a whole species is like. Dolphins also engage in behaviors that humans judge as friendly, compassionate, altruistic, curious and playful

Think of a particular dog or cat and the variety of complex behaviors they are capable of—an entire species, made of individuals with their own complexity, must be far more complex. All of your emotional responses to dolphins are recognizing the immense complexity of these animals and how they are both like and unlike you, which is important to think about to expand your understanding of the universe

Fitting a creature to a flat framework for your own comfort or internal resolution is a disrespect to the creature. Certainly with sharks, everyone should know the facts about them rather than sensationalistic misinformation—shark attacks are rare, humans are not a preferred food for sharks, and most shark bites are exploratory investigations of a strange object or animal rather than feeding upon a selected prey item, however this doesn't mean sharks are "good" by human standards and it certainly doesn't mean sharks are "safe."

Seeing a video of an enormous Great White swimming placidly I feel that her presence is not just breathtakingly beautiful, but awesome—in the more archaic sense of something that inspires awe, something so great and powerful it could destroy your fragile human life without malicious intent. Likewise with any shark, it is respectful to recognize that they can be dangerous, it is disrespectful to think of them as ocean puppies and try to touch them and grab them.

Fear, disgust, anger—each is an instinct that functions to protect you and is reactive towards potential or perceived threats. Your brain allows you to evaluate things that cause these responses and choose how to act.

All parts of this whole are important because the natural world contains actual threats but knowledge and intentional behavior are important to protecting yourself.

For example, once when I found a tick crawling on my clothing, I felt disgusted and startled, which is appropriate, but my instinctive reaction was to immediately flick the tick off, flinging it onto the floor or furniture nearby where I no longer knew where it was. In this way my response didn't actually protect me but instead increased the level of risk

There are plenty of other examples—if someone sees a venomous snake they might think it is important to kill it, but trying to kill the snake is much more dangerous than leaving it alone, since the snake will try to defend itself. Spraying pesticides to kill bugs can unbalance the ecosystem causing more harmful pests than you started with because the natural predators are also killed. Using poisons to kill mice and rats will also poison their natural predators. Killing coyotes just causes them to disperse and reproduce at a higher rate, and killing wolves causes overpopulation of prey, which causes disease to proliferate and forests to be stripped bare of saplings that could grow up and regenerate the forest...

...And it also works the opposite way with human responses of affection, love and sociability: humans often may feel that they want to make an animal their friend, but often it would be cruel to take that animal into a human house and treat it as a pet. White-tailed deer may seem cute and sympathetic but hunting some of them is important for the health of the ecosystem, and trying to make them tame puts the deer and the humans in danger. Domestic cats are our friends but they are also invasive species in much of the world, destroying populations of birds, mammals and amphibians.

Domestic cats aren't serial killers or murderers either, they are just predatory animals that instinctively hunt and kill prey.

It is hard for facts about animals to be propagated while those facts must be presented as reasons the animal deserves to live or deserves to die. Virginia opossums are important to their ecosystem and deserve to exist. They also don't actually eat ticks, that came from a very flawed and sloppy scientific study that was contradicted by later studies, and sadly the reason this misinformation got so far is that it was "proof" that opossums are valuable and shouldn't be killed for no reason.

Wolves are keystone species and vital to their ecosystems, but it's not true that they never attack humans, there have been a small handful of wolf attacks on humans, it's very few and wolves generally avoid humans but they're not "safe." They shouldn't have to be "safe" to deserve to live.

Fact is, most animals can harm a human if they feel threatened or end up in an unlucky situation! Most animals can spread disease one way or another! We have to live with this, we have to learn and use strategies to keep ourselves safe, we can't just sterilize the world of animals because of a possibility that an animal could hurt someone, any more than we can cut down every tree because trees fall on people sometimes.

No one likes hearing that there's no way to for-sure eliminate all possibility of ticks from your yard, you just have to take precautions against them, but it's true! Just like there's an inherent possibility a wasp could sting you, an inherent possibility a snake could bite you, an inherent possibility a mountain lion could eat your livestock, but you can dramatically lower your risk of these things by knowing how to coexist with these animals.

[lidiasloca]

meeting the high lord and high lady

nyx x reader - cassian x reader - azriel x reader

PART TWO

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“i’m azriel. nice to meet you.”

nyx groaned at your lack of response. “she is y/n. let’s go to the table now, please.”

rhys chuckled as he escorted feyre to the table, followed by azriel, who gave you a quick, curious glance. since you seemed unable to walk yourself, nyx grabbed your arm, dragging you to the living room. “behave,” he whispered.

yeah—that was your plan.

but fate wasn’t on your side. but do you know who was? azriel. “yeah, sit over there,” feyre told you, pointing to the empty chair next to the shadowsinger.

“great,” nyx breathed. but you could barely listen to him; your ears only cared about azriel’s words directed your way.

“so... how long have you and nyx been friends?”

the way his eyes watched you, expecting an answer... you could barely breathe at the sight. barely function, knowing you had his full attention.

“uhm—”

“hello! hello!” a stranger said, taking a seat at the table. you instantly moved your eyes to him, abandoning the sight that was azriel. but oh gods—

“cassian. you’re late,” the high lord told him sternly.

cassian didn’t pay him any attention. “and you are beautiful,” he said, staring at you shamelessly, as if in awe.

breathe, y/n. breathe.

“thank you,” you said, trying to hold his devouring gaze. but quickly, your eyes moved to azriel’s hand, which was gripping his glass so tightly it looked like it might shatter.

“cassian,” he said sharply, jaw clenched. “why don’t you sit already?”

but the enormous male just chuckled, not caring that azriel seemed close to throwing the glass.

you were far too lost in the beauty of rhysand, who watched the two males in front of him with an amused look on his face, to care about the strange scene.

“it looks like she’s already taken,” cassian laughed, making azriel’s grip harden and rhys’s smile grow wider.

“yes, she is,” rhys said, glancing at azriel as cassian took a seat.

feyre elbowed him, giggling. “can you not talk about her this way? a female is no one’s property.”

“no matter how beautiful?” cassian asked, still looking at you.

you felt like you were about to faint.

the three of them laughed at his words—all but nyx and azriel, who looked at cassian as if they were about to strangle him.

“y/n, we were talking about you,” azriel said, facing you, almost whispering—like he was done with the others’ conversation.

“mmmm,” you quickly replied, trying to swallow the food in your mouth. “yes, well... uh... what was the question?”

“hey, don’t keep the conversation to yourself,” rhys said, his lips grazing his wine-filled glass.

“yes, we want to get to know y/n too,” the high lady added, smiling toward her son, who was clearly bored.

“i,” azriel cut in abruptly, “was just asking about her and nyx.”

“her and nyx as in... dating?” cassian asked, his eyes moving to the boy, who merely responded with a disgusted gag.

“no, no. we’re just friends. very good friends,” you added, trying to cheer up nyx.

“but are you?” cassian asked, eyebrows raised. your confused face urged him to continue: “are you dating someone?”

you thanked the gods you were sitting down—had you been standing, your legs would’ve trembled until you hit the floor.

before you could mumble an answer, you saw azriel shaking his head before replying harshly: “why do you ask that, brother?”

“yeah, cass,” rhys added, though he was holding back laughter. “why would you ask that?”

“exactly,” nyx finally spoke, but his furious tone set you on edge. “why are you two flirting with my friend?”

oh gods.

as cassian chuckled at nyx’s words, azriel regarded your friend in disbelief. “we’re not flirting, kid,” azriel replied.

“yet you just took it personally—and i didn’t mention any names,” nyx retorted, earning another chuckle from cassian.

“well, i don’t expect your mated father would flirt with anyone.”

“you’d be surprised,” feyre responded, eyes filled with delight as she watched her smirking husband.

“ugh, mom, stop. gods, i’m getting out of here,” nyx muttered.

you definitely didn’t want to go. and not just because of how beautiful they all were—but because you were rather enjoying being flirted with by them; it felt like a dream.

“i don’t think she wants to go with you, pal,” cassian told him.

“yeah—y/n,” azriel started, facing you. “why don’t i show you the city? would you like that?”

“no, she will not,” cassian cut in.

“yeah, she will not,” nyx echoed, looking at you as if expecting you to agree.

but you had no time to answer before cassian stood up and offered you his hand. “come on, y/n. let me take you flying. you’ll love it.”

“i...” but looking around, seeing every set of eyes awaiting your call, you didn’t know what to say.

nyx was your friend, yes. but you had every right to choose with whom to spend your time. you really liked cassian—he was straightforward, flirtatious, and clearly interested in you. and azriel... you were very curious about him, about who he was—and maybe he was interested in you, too.

what should you do?

azriel, cassian, and nyx awaited your answer, while feyre and rhys watched, intrigued by how the scene would unfold. it was both terrible and exciting that you were the one writing the the next scene.

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

a/n: emm you can all tell me who you'd rather reader ending up with. i clearly know who i want, but - i will listen to you. and! please loves, send requests, cause ive anwsered them all! (if yours isn’t published yet, it is programmed to be during the following days). i really need fic ideas from you cause i ain't got the time to sit down and imagine haha. so yeah. thankuu :))

[evilminji]

This? Is driving me ~crazy~?

You know Anti-Force drugs and devices? Such as cuffs or collars?

Presumably, both rare and expensive, since Noteable Force Sensitivity is Rare AF? Not sure if it's more of a Fandom or Canon thing? But still, THOSE things? Yeah, you know THEM?

...... w-wouldn't... wouldn't they fucking KILL people?

Like? I'm not even joking here. We gotta remember, IN UNIVERSE, that the Force? Is FUCKING EVERYWHERE. All the Where. The LIVING Force is what CONNECTS and guides all LIVING things. "Guides" being the significant word there.

I'm not saying it would be IMMEDIATE death? Because Force Blanks exsist. Impossibly rare as they may be. But no one ever said they were HEALTHY. You CAN survive, for a pretty long while, after getting your internal micro biomes DEEPLY fucked up. Can even possibly repair them, depending on the damage.

And, what? Is the Midi-chlorian? If not a symbiotic microorganism? Living off you while giving you benefits in return? Health, durability, and The Force, in return for a place to thrive. Tied, inexorably, to your immune system and other vital bodily functions? To your SENSES. Your BRAIN FUNCTION.

Anti-Force drugs and Devices? Are awful... to those already a count of MULTIPLE THOUSANDS per drop of blood. What about much lower? If the device damages or suppresses all but the strongest Midi-chlorians? Does the average person HAVE enough to survive that?

Is it like radiation exposure? Deadly not in the immediate, but in the days to follow? In the sickness. The nausea. The weakness of limbs and the tiredness that drags. A seeping sense of unreality. Disconnected from others, who no longer feel "real". Do YOU no longer "real". As the interwoven connection you had, inside you, to the Force, is dying?

The Force is still there. You are still a part of it.

But you can't feel it anymore.

And it wasn't even something you knew you WERE feeling, until it was gone. Until people and the paintings of people, hold the same realness. Until you no longer feel connected to your own body. Sick, disassociating, and scared. Blood poisoned by the dying matter now floating in your veins.

There's a REASON, I would imagine, such devices are not standard issue. Mass produced. Expensive, dangerous, and deadly to those who DON'T have a high enough midi-chlorian count.

Even those who DO have a high enough count? Get sick wearing them! Need time to recover!

They are? Fundamentally?

ANTI-LIFE.

People throw them around in fanfic's a lot. As though just shutting off a major part of someone biology wouldn't have NASTY blowback. As though a Jedi probably doesn't fucking DESTROY those monstrosities, those ABOMINATIONS to the Force, every time they come across a set or vial of the stuff. Second only to the Sith, that sort of evil. Probably MADE by Sith. Evil. Nasty. Disgusting and no good.

Burn it.

You absolutely NEED to keep someone contained? Sleep. Nice lil Jedi enforced nap. Or drug enforced. Maybe both. They ALSO have FORCE rituals. Combine THEIR power against YOUR power. There are many ways. HUMANE and ETHICAL ways. They AREN'T SITH.

Just? Those things? Should be treated like the horrors they ARE, you know? They're not convenient plot devices! They are critical biology suppressing radiation collars and chemo drugs! Being PUMPED INTO PEOPLE by RANDOS!!

Shoved ON people! By FUCKING SLAVERS!

That SHOULD be HORRIFYING! They're ANTI-FORCE! <-!!! Which?

Is LIFE.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @spidori @mayfay @hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @leftnotright

[furiousgoldfish]

I have this reoccurring problem where I feel like I've found a friend in someone, and then some time later, this person does something to hurt me, and rather than apologizing, they snap at me, act like I'm awful and a nuisance to them, and generally get very angry with me. First it makes me feel guilty, and I go over everything I did to see how I deserved this, but then I realize I didn't do anything, they just hurt me and snapped at me, made me feel like it's my fault. And then I get scared that this person could do that, because I can't even imagine doing that to anyone, it's so deeply unethical and shitty, but people do it like it's their second nature. Once I realize that this person scares me, I know I have to get distance and move away from the friendship if I don't want to live a very anxious and triggering life, so I do that. And thus I have no friends anymore.

Now for me, this occurred easily over 30 or 40 times with different people, to the point where I've started to wonder if I maybe draw this behaviour out of them. Because I will usually pick people who I believe would never do that, who seem to be kind, understanding, gentle, funny, easy going, I go for that almost every time, and still they snap at me. I'm wondering if it's because everyone in their mind thinks there's one person somewhere they're allowed to snap at, and since I'm very mild tempered, easy going and understanding, it feels to them like snapping at me couldn’t possibly have any consequences?  Again, I don't understand this, I would rather never snap at any person in my life.

My problem is that sometimes, I end up very bonded to these people, and I start building hope that maybe I could be normal, have friends, function in society, just because it feels for a bit like I'm accepted, I'm allowed to socialize and chat and joke around and tell things to someone, and this means the world to me. I've lived in an environment where I was not allowed any of that. So when these specific people snap at me, my hopes crumble to the ground, and I'm back into the place where I don't feel like I'm a person anymore. Even worse, I get triggered back into my childhood, where my parents screamed at me telling me how disgusting I am, how nobody will ever want anything to do with me, and how I'm the worst thing to ever exist on the planet. That's how I end up feeling when anyone turns against me, or abandons me. I keep it to myself, because I don't want the triggers affecting the friendship. But they affect me deeply.

That feeling of someone I care about finding me disgusting and awful and poisonous gives me so much pain I want to curl up and disappear. I want to not exist anymore. I would rather be alone forever than experience more of that. And that's exactly what I do; I curl up in my own little corner and don't socialize out of terror that more of this will happen, because it does happen so often and I still never see it coming.

I know on some deeply logical level, that people are snapping at me because it's easier for them to do that than to face that they've done something wrong, that they've hurt our friendships and acted badly towards me; they need it to be my fault so they'd feel better about themselves. Taking it out on me is just an easy route because I have zero vindication in me and probably won't ever snap back or get angry in return; I'll just withdraw. I'm always too worried I've genuinely done something wrong when it happens, I'll apologize a thousand times, I'll spend a while trying to figure out what's the truth, and then before I even think about getting angry, I'll be swallowed by pain and sorrow that this happened to me again.

Has anyone found any ways to have people not snap at you when they hurt you? What kind of change in attitude would achieve this? Do I just have bad friend-picking skills? Is this just a normal part of life that other people can handle because being snapped on doesn't make them suicidal? Is it considered normal that your friend will sometimes snap at you when they hurt you? Is it not a glaring red flag? In some cases people will not only snap but also gaslight me about what happened, and I know gaslighting is way over the line. Has this been happening to others? Please give me any opinions or experiences of this, especially if you found a way to deal with it.

[vagabond-umlaut]

gray cashmere

Solitude makes many a tough decision too easy to make.

However, is one truly ever 'one'? Or are they 'one' from a collection of many such 'one's' — guaranteed to be affected by the actions of one another?

Strictly isolated systems are mere hypotheses, anyways.

[Alternatively: Amanai Riko's life overlaps with that of three young students from Tokyo Jujutsu High for only fifty-five hours, yet the effects they leave on her and the effects she leaves on them– they can be felt even after a period of one-hundred-and-fifty-five months.]

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! fem! reader; 4400 words of me trying my best to forget the horror of the 'Hidden Inventory Arc' by writing THE CANON-DIVERGENT FIC I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO FUNCTION ATP; riko is the little sister yours truly the reader never had; kuroi is the gentle sunshine on a winter afternoon; THE sweet romance between satoru & reader; suguru is the most awesome best friend and/or brother figure ever; FUSHIGURO TOJI IS HIS OWN WARNING; Hidden Inventory Arc Spoilers with Canon-Level Violence; Angst with a Happy Ending.

▸ notes: The reader's CT was to read others' thoughts freely without them knowing, but after a binding vow she undertook when young [disgusted with the way the old geezers governing the jujutsu society misused it for their personal gains], she lost it, gaining the ability to instantaneously kill an entity the moment she opts to read their mind in place. Not even a special-grade can stop her attack. Aniki = older brother in Japanese.

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

DAY 1; 11:44

Yours is a beautiful, awful life when it's the one chosen for the sake of all.

Everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving – living, if put in a word– yet you'll be nothing more than a name and, if lucky, a fading face filed away in a mind. Yet, yet, yet– everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving— and one young Amanai Riko thinks that's what makes her fate so bearable.

Too bad one of her three bodyguards doesn't think along such lines.

"She's too young to die. Why is she even agreeing to this merger?"

Your quiet voice breaks Riko's scuttling from one room to another, in search of the things she needs for school.

Craning her neck, she peeks into the room, only to find you standing by the windows, holding a cup of tea delicately as you look intently at your companions. Geto's shoulders rise and fall in a short sigh. Gojo gets up from his slouch on the couch to drape an arm round you.

The girl thinks it's the softest she has seen the goggles-wearing boy appear in the time you all have been here.

(Honestly, this is the first time she is seeing Gojo act so careful and you, so disquietened, in the three hours the three of you have been here—

A jarring contrast to the way the boy introduced you as 'the coolest and hottest jujutsu sorcerer ever' who also happens to be his 'better half' while you greeted them with a beam (which did not reach your eyes) and turned away, focus switching to your beeping mobile.)

(Geto looked like an old grandpa then, when he whispered to Kuroi, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, how difficult it was for the two of you to get together as a couple – and how happy and relieved he and your other friends are now, watching the two of you be so very in love with each other. Kuroi let out only a tiny quiet sigh with a small gentle smile at his words.)

Your boyfriend's voice pulls her away from her mind.

"You heard the brat, didn't you? She is Tengen-sama; Tengen-sama is her. So she isn't really going to die; she's going to live forever and ever and eve–"

"I thought I was the one who couldn't read between lines well in this relationship, 'Toru," you interrupt him, frowning. Riko finds it too hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to follow – albeit, the threat doesn't stay strong for long, vanishing away at your next words. Thrown into the room, a mix of visible anger and despair.

"The kid was obviously spouting all that nonsense, more as a means to convince herself than to convince us," you say; the young student considers bursting into the room, exclaiming she ain't a little kid, yet a voice in her urges her to stay put outside the door. Begrudgingly, she listens to it. You continue, tone the same as before.

"There's some part in Riko-chan which doesn't really want to merge with Master Tengen, but a burden once dumped on one's shoulders has to be carried, and Riko-chan has no option left but to choke that wily voice in her head until it quietens forever."

Gojo's eyes drift over to the door once. A bit startled and a lot scared, Riko shrinks into herself, yet budges not an inch from her spot. Focus returning to your puckered features, the junior high schooler watches him croon softly into your ears, "Babe, how about we discuss–"

"I don't think there'll be a later, Satoru," you say, then exhale air out in a burst of clear frustration, "And I seriously cannot understand how in this world you and Geto senpai can be so relaxed about this? Y'all are answering Yaga's calls as if Riko's an important but lifeless mail, while we three are some FedEx employees and not three sorcerers leading a girl a few years younger than us to her death, grinning and singing."

The cup in your grasp looks dangerously close to shattering; not to mention the way your cursed energy swells and swells until it comes too close to suffocating the hell out of her — it ebbs away faster than it came.

Face morphing into an easy smile, the girl watches you slip out from under your boyfriend's arm and walk over to her. She wishes the grin she shoots back is half as bright as she hopes it is.

"Hey, Riko-chan," you greet, voice shifting into a soothing melody, "Ready to go to school? Geto senpai's already called the driver. He must be waiting downstairs."

"Oh, I see," Riko responds, a bit lost as her gaze rakes over your face, then darts over to the two still in the room. The weird-bangs-sorcerer offers a small smile while he cuts an apple into slices. The other boy's eyes remain trained on the back of your head, upbeat nature nowhere to be seen.

She looks back at you. Kuroi asks her to hurry via a frantic yell of her name. The girl sighs and slowly moves into the direct line of sight of everyone.

"Have any of you seen a thin blue notebook anywhere? I can't find my music no– OH MY GOD, ONEE-CHAN!!! YOUR STUPID AS HECK BOYFRIEND DID NOT JUST MAKE PAPER PLANES OUT OF MY NOTES, DID HE!?!?"

———

DAY 2; 19:55

"Satoru is not really bad, y'know?"

Your comment arrives few hours and many adventures later – though Riko wonders how much of an adventure they were for you or the two upperclassmen of yours, given the way you three were kicking ass for the entirety of the time, both before and after Kuroi was captured.

Lips curving into a teasing smile – one which the woman, taking care of her since the latter's childhood, shares – the teenager returns her attention to you.

You blink back, a tiny smile playing with the corner of your lips before it widens, digging into your cheeks and crinkling your eyes.

"What?" you ask with a giggle, "Is there something on my face? Or is suggesting my boyfriend to be kind of good really that outlandish of a concept?"

"Hmm, do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?" Riko asks back, plopping a spoonful of the ice cream you bought, then breaking into a shiver as her brain freezes from how insanely cold it is. Neither you nor Kuroi bothering to hide your chuckles, you hum. "I'm not sure which I will find honest and which, nice; why don't you shoot both my way, Riko-chan?" you suggest then add, mirth gleaming in your voice, "Of course, when you're okay again, only then."

The girl thinks of retorting to you with a silent glare but opts to think better of it. Couple of minutes pass in almost silence, Kuroi and you chit-chatting about Okinawa in general while the three of you amble down the sidewalk lining the inky-black sea, casting eerie shadows in the sparse lights dotting the streets — when she decides to reply to your suggestion from before.

"I don't really think Gojo-san is a bad person," She says, stopping and offering you a smile over her shoulder. You too stop and accept it with a bright smile of your own.

Riko continues, "I mean, yeah, he's very, very annoying all the time – making fun of me and calling me a kid or brat – but if you chose him to be your boyfriend, I guess he's kind of fine. Maybe. Plus, you don't really seem to have a bad taste," she adds with an appreciative once-over at the sundress you're wearing.

You crack an amused grin. Riko turns to her caretaker. "C'mon, Kuroi. Tell onee-chan. She has a pretty nice taste in outfits, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, you do," the other woman is quick to agree with a kind grin, "I suppose Riko-sama is correct in saying this; although, Riko-sama..." trailing off, Kuroi smiles at the addressed girl the way she used to in her childhood, whenever the latter used to babble the stuff children always do, and gently rebukes.

"Having a good taste in outfits is not the best indicator of someone's taste in men. You must never view a person from an angle as shallow as that."

"Kuroi-san is right, Riko-chan," you pitch in your two cents an instant later, then cast the woman beside you a sly glance, "Though I wonder if that was an indirect criticism of 'Toru... I hope it wasn't – was it?"

"No, of course not," Kuroi denies with a small laugh. Riko watches you crack a freer smile at her words, which slowly softens when you move your gaze back to her. The ice cream in her hand seems four seconds away from melting; still the girl decides to ignore it in favour of giving you her undivided attention.

(Ever since she met you three, you've always struck the young girl as someone a bit... different.

From the way you train your focus on your opponents during a fight; to the way you speak, neither too loud nor too quiet, just the perfect loudness and pitch required to snatch everyone's attention and keep them for yourself; to the way you carry yourself, neither as pompous arrogant akin Gojo nor as discreet smug as Geto, but as a girl who is aware of her worth and won't hesitate to show another their place, if the need so arises.

Riko thinks if she lived a little longer, she might have wanted to make you her role model. Not that it matters now, though.)

Your musing voice break through her thoughts.

"Satoru was the one who suggested this trip," you say, sharing a half-smile with Kuroi, "The best option would have been to take you back to the school as soon as possible, where you and Kuroi-san would be safe and sound. Plus, our mission too would have been complete. An extra feather to our cap, given we delivered the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen-sama and secured the foundations the entire Japan is based on. Yet he argu–"

You abruptly fall silent, the loving look on your face withering to one of helplessness and profound sadness when the ticking hands of the wrist watch you wear catches your eye; and you shove your emotions beneath a forced chuckle.

"Oh no, it's almost eight," you say, a faux buoyancy to your words, "Do you wanna go back to the hotel and have dinner there, Riko? Or some place outside, maybe? Our schedule's packed tomorrow – our littlest Riko-chan needs some good sleep tonight to not be fussy tomorrow, doesn't she?"

Glancing at Kuroi, only to find her with the same tense cheerfulness, Riko stifles a sigh and parts her lips into a mirthful beam she doesn't feel at all.

"I really wanna try the soki soba and the yashigani. Do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

You nod exaggeratedly, lips thinning into a solemn line though the faint ray of fun can still be made through the grey clouds cast over your irises. "Don't you worry, Riko sama. Your two faithful servants will certainly find a place to dine to your liking. You just keep being the cute little princess that you are."

The girl opens her mouth to snap back at being called a little girl yet again – you aren't very different from your boyfriend, after all – then shuts it, then opens it again, a teasing giggle wanting to bubble out.

"Y'know, onee-chan," she says, skipping over to you and smiling in an innocent fashion, "I answered your second question, but I never gave a reply to the first one – you wanna know it?"

You take a second before shrugging. "Um, yeah, why not?"

Throwing a mischievous glance to Kuroi, who hides her mouth with a palm and looks away, shoulders shaking a little, Riko returns her eyes to your expectant smile. And beckoning you to come near, whispers.

"There isn't anything on your face. But the foundation's on your neck and shoulders is kind of off, I guess. Were you bitten by a bug, onee–"

An obnoxiously cheery ringtone cuts the girl off. Your face burning a deep hue of coyness, she watches you pluck your phone out of your bag, then walk a few steps away, voice dropping to a hushed murmur – which takes a minute before growing shrill then silent. Your cheeks and ears sport the deepest shade of red Riko's ever seen.

Asking them for a little more time, grin so sheepish and flustered, you whirl on your heels and walk a couple of feet away, your hand fiddling with the Okinawa keychain your boyfriend bought you today at noon.

Lips quirking in a fond smile, Riko looks away from your shy giggling figure to the chuckling Kuroi, to the big ocean waves crashing on the sands below.

Yeah, it might've been good to have a chance at a bit longer life.

———

DAY 3; 15:08

This is not good.

Oh heavens no. This is so not good.

Tears springing forth and streaming down her cheeks, Riko moves to take a step towards you. Then, stills when you put up a bloodied hand asking her to stop. Face scrunched into a smile which, the little vessel knows, conveys nothing of the agony tearing at your insides; you cast a glance at the gaping hole in your palm, then drift your gaze back to her.

Something acidic and pungent surges to the girl's mouth — though not at you, never at you – but at herself, the sole reason why you're clutching your profusely bleeding wound, left by the bullet originally meant for her; why Geto stands shocked and numb, with a hundred curses looming round the room, ready to attack at the slightest hint of an order; why Gojo's probably lying near the torii gates, dead and swarmed by cursed maggots – if what she heard less than a minute back, isn't a lie, that is.

Judging from the sharp gasp of air you drew in then — it isn't, Riko thinks.

Your smile stays as pathetically serene as ever; the only traitor now being those rivulets of grief carving their courses on your face. You part your lips in a heart-wrenching plea.

"Run, Riko-chan. Run to a place far from here. Somewhere none can find you. And don't ever come back. Please."

Shaking her head a 'No!' as fiercely as she can, the girl bites back her sobs. A cold hand pulls her by the shoulder towards the entrance; she keeps her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Everything was going so, so well– why then did this abominable man have to appear out of nowhere and upend everything in her life? Only when she realized she did not want to be the sacrifice for the sake of everyone else, and that, she too could afford an ounce of selfishness — why then did this man have to appear and extinguish that singular flame of hope lit in her world? Why, why, why—

A harsh bark of a laughter barges into her thoughts.

Your eyes develop a pinch of panic as they travel from the man you froze in the entrance to them, then back to him. The victim of your cursed technique sneers.

"You're that girl with the psychic powers, aren't ya? Thought you can only use your power to kill a person; since when can you freeze them like a statue, eh— can see, hear and feel everything, but can't move a single muscle, except to speak, huh? Or, no, wait–" A second raucous laugh rings through the halls and corridors; you clench your wounded hand into a fist so tight, she thinks she too can feel the pain weighing on your senses right now.

The assassin jeers, "You must be so, so tired to not be able to kill this poor cursed energy-less bastard, hm? And on top of all that, you also must not have refined the technique enough to shut me up, yeah?" A vein throbs in your temple; the man speaks, more gleeful than ever.

"And given how I'm slowly losing the numbness in my arms and legs... your technique is so fucking weak, girl. And the jujutsu society called you their messiah, eh? Fucking fools, the whole lot. Their six eyes in a pool of his blood outside while their other trump card's soon to meet a similar miserable end at this monkey's hands. How funny, ain't it?"

Giving no semblance of a reply to him, you turn your eyes back to her – no, to Geto who's standing behind her – and urge him, so desperate and desolate, every breath you take a short jerky heave of your chest, "Take Riko somewhere safe, senpai. And don't return till you've gotten help. Now, go. Quick."

Craning her neck upwards, the teenager catches a glimpse of the boy grasping her shoulder firmly — hoping he'll refuse to listen to you and stay right there, fighting the monster right beside you — but finds no fragment of dissent on his face.

Extreme reluctance? Yes.

Profound melancholy? Yes.

Stifling resignation? Yes, yes, yes.

But dissent? No.

It makes an appearance, now and then, but never persists for long.

She makes yet another attempt to get closer to you.

"Onee-chan, no," Riko begs, snarling and thrashing from under Geto's unyielding hold on her arm now, "please don't do this. I wanna live my life to the fullest, but I cannot if I don't have y'all beside me. So, you–"

"Riko-chan, no–"

"–ask me to go away like an escapist coward–"

"Riko-chan, listen–"

"–staying right over here, next to–"

"RIKO!"

The harsh call of her name makes the girl stumble and stutter. It isn't you who called her so; it's Geto, peering down at her with moisture in his eyes. An ugly sob crawls out her throat. He mumbles, "You're way too young to understand all this, but know that, if you're out there in the world– safe, free and happy– the Star Plasma Vessel mission can be marked successful only then. Whatever sacrifices all of us made or are going to make today," a glance at you shows the bittersweet smile you're wearing; Riko's wails worsen, "they won't make any sense if, at the end of the day, you're harmed. So, please listen to us and escape with Kuroi-san, yeah?"

The man to her not-so-distant left flexes his fingers a bit. The three of you look at him before looking at one another. You look a few minutes away from passing out, skin paling and breaths growing labored with every second that elapses.

Eyes screwn shut, Riko lets go of the fight she was harbouring in her body. Geto's voice breaks with unshed moisture. "Try not to die, kid. I already lost a best friend today, don't wanna lose a sister too."

Riko doesn't need to open her eyes to know your reaction; the heart-rending sob paired with the "No promises, aniki," you let out tells her enough – before your cursed energy expands yet again, and a chilled palm pulls her by the hand into a swift run, the hit of her shoes on the floor echoing in the stuffy underground air.

Air which soon switches from the suffocation of ancience to that of blood and death — the teenager takes but a moment to realize who the person is. Biting down harshly on her lower lip, she swallows the raw anguish tearing her sinews apart, and keeps her eyes shut firm.

Willing the darkness reigning behind her eyelids to overtake every part of her body – especially her mind, being hurtled one memory after another, and another – Kuroi making her lunch for school; Kuroi teaching her to tie her braids; Kuroi congratulating for every success of hers and supporting her after every failure, be it big or small; Kuroi being the family she once thought she had lost in a car crash–

The sharp ding of the lift and the crackling warmth of the sun on her tear-stained cheeks are the last two things Riko registers, before the world round her fades away into a noiseless black — finally.

———

DAY 4718; 16:02

"Anableps can see both above and below the water at the same time, y'know?"

The statement and the awed "Woo!" that follows it rouses Riko from the siesta she was teetering on the brink of. She yawns and rubs her eyes. Then yawns again, a bit more subdued this time, considering a family walks past her.

Uni's been very stressful of late, and to top it all off, the woman who's supposed to handle this shift has called in sick – so, as fucking same as before, the manager is gonna call in some newbie to work instead.

The newbie being none other than Riko – very unfortunately – on a tiring Friday afternoon as today.

At least, the job pays well and she gets to spend time explaining fish and their world to excited kids, plus the occasional one or two adults who look a touch different from their usual bored indifference.

But, of course, there's always a group of friends who come bounding in.

Worse than a class of kindergarten children fighting for the single toy of a dinosaur their teacher has brought — Riko avoids such crowds of like the plague. Storming past them, turning down their query, asking a coworker to fill in for her – the young grad student applies all tricks and methods known to her to escape the situation.

To escape the familiar buzz of cheer and enthusiasm.

To escape the familiar weight of nostalgia and gloom.

To escape the—

"Um, miss, where can we find the whale sharks' tank? Heard it's the main attraction here... And, uh, we're also a little lost, actually."

Trains of thought thrown off-track, the young woman squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, a customer service smile flitting onto her lips as she turns back. And holds back a very exasperated groan. Why the fuck did Mio had to leave for a snacks break now of the innumerable times she could have gone before? And why does this crowd have to be the very thing she hates dealing with? Ugh... Never mind–

"Just turn to your left, go down the corridor, then to your right. You'll find the whale sharks there."

The pink-haired boy accepts the reply with a nod and a bright thanks, before the black-haired boy places a hand on his shoulder and he falls quiet. The latter looks strangely familiar, Riko thinks... ignoring it, she shoots the boys a quizzical smile. "Is there anything else you would to like to ask or—"

"You're my mom's friend. I've seen your pictures at home," he cuts her off, brows furrowing. His friend looks at him, so perplexed, not much unlike how Riko's feeling. He pays no mind, continuing, "You attended a Catholic school, love music and aquatic life, and have an obsession with coconut crab meat and soba, don't you?"

"Megumi..." A slightly older girl standing behind them with two girls donning identical t-shirts, begins in a lightly chastising tone, but the tour guide feels she's miles away from them. Catholic school, music lessons, aquariums, soki soba, yashigani, Okinawa... it simply cannot be you—

"Tsumiki! Mimiko!" A voice, Riko once was under the impression she'll never be hearing again, except in nightmares, rings through the near-empty hall of the aquarium, soon followed by the appearing of a face she thought she'll never see again, except in the sole photograph left with her on the phone Geto gave her, besides 5000 円 and contacts he asked her to get in touch with, as soon as possible, that evening a good twelve years ago in Osaka.

You reach a stop before the group, a young brown-haired girl trailing you with a worried scowl on her face. Dumbstruck, Riko watches you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I can understand Nana-chan's phone is busy being used in clicking photos but the same excuse cannot be extended to you, can it? No. So, why on earth can't any of you four pick your mobile up when I'm calling you, hm? Or please don't tell me the batteries are dead. Again."

The blonde girl, presumably Nana-chan, smiles smugly while three out of the addressed four kids shoot a sheepish smile your way. Your frown slowly gives way to a fond grin and you huff a chuckle, shaking your head – which only grows in intensity when the girl following you lets out an annoyed hmph! and launches into a tirade how extremely worried the two of you were and how much dumb and careless them five are.

Eyes welling over with emotions percolated over the course of many, many years, Riko watches you grin so freely — only for it to still and fade when the spiky-haired boy says he has met your friend from the photograph, and you look from him to her standing inconspicuously, half-hidden in the shadows.

A painfully slow second passes.

The entire gaggle of kids falls quiet at the disbelieving watery chuckle you let out. Taking two steps forwards, she offers you a mirror image of your expression.

"Told you the aquarium's fun, didn't I?"

A call of your name bounces off the grey walls in a saccharine tone: Riko knows instinctively, can be no one's except one blue-eyed and white-haired bastard's. You cast a glance at the tall man rushing to you, then return your gaze to her, with the same radiant beam you gave on that day twelve years back, when Riko first expressed her real thoughts out in the air.

The young woman wastes no moment before running to you and engulfing you in the tightest hug she can possibly manage, tears rushing down her face. Your gentle voice shushes her, the way an elder sister would do to a younger sister.

Riko's lips stretch in the widest and freest grin she has felt in forever.

Joyful and thankful her onee-chan is finally back in her life, giving the added length it received some much-needed hues — 'cause a longer life is obviously good but it's the best when your life is long and spent with your near and dear ones.

▸ notes: The reader was in the process of developing and perfecting a new CT, hence her CE was so unstable – spiking and ebbing – besides the fact it drained her energy like hell. Toji was a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly and easily. [And for the ppl who're wondering how the reader was able to stop the attack on Riko: she used a tendril of thoughts emanating from a person's mind to detect their presence, instead of their cursed energy remains.] [She can't read those thoughts, though.]

▸ masterlist

[fall0utmind]

Medical leaks au

OMG

I'm speechless

This was absolutely amazing and I'll be awaiting the next part (and wishing for a happy ending for our Marc)

First of all

'His heart stops beating. The room goes dead silent. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, his fellow riders watching in confusion. For Marc, it is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He looks up and catches Alex’s wide-eyed stare. He's sweating, beads rolling down the side of his neck. Shit. Fucking shit. He’s starting to think he’s not going to make it out of this press conference in one piece, torn apart by the gnashing teeth of the media.'

This whole paragraph is just mind blowing

I love how you described the media being ruthless (especially since it's Marc's pov)

'He feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to his facade, destroying everything he has made himself be'

Destroying everything he made himself be🫠and what if I kms

'Alex is the one person he would do anything for, he would walk through hell and back to protect him. He is the only one who truly knows what happened in 2015, who knows the extent of the demons in Marc’s brain. Now they will have to face them again'

yes yes yes, their bond is something from another planet, obv no secrets between them

They really only have themselves (esp on the grid)

'The other pilots probably think he is pathetic. He doesn’t think he can deal with another reason for the others to hate him. As much as he tries to rise above it, he loathes that his colleagues cannot bring themselves to like him'

and what if I kms x2

It's sad that he thinks that everyone hates him(and will hate him more for the attempts)

He is so isolated from the rest 😭(Vale when I catch you, you better crawl on your knees to make up for what you did)

'disgusted by the consequences of Vale's war on Marc?'

Marc, no😭 pecco is just worried (and prob feeling guilty for his mentor's actions)

I hope you will explore Marc's relations with the academy boys in the future

And maybe a Vale pov reaction to the news? pretty please 🥺🙏 (kind of want a pov reaction from pedrenzo and the vr46a too)

Anyway

I think you can tell I loved this fic,

Of course I'll def love any way you take this fic(so long as it has a happy ending)

I hope Marc gets therapy, and Vale, and then they go to couples counselling

This was quite long but oh well

BIG ASK

Haha this is so exciting that you guys have so many thoughts ans ideas from my writing???? Crazy to me

I'm so glad you like the para about the media being awful, o feel like it's such a big part of Marc's real life and it sucks so bad. They're so unfair to him.

Also I really wanted to play yp the idea that Marc is always marx yes but he puts on a bit of a persona for the world and that's all come crumbling down and he DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Your comment about Vale made me giggle because a couple of people literally say something like that in the fic later.

I love pecco, I love the idea that he really cares and doesn't want to live with Vales hatred!!!!!

Yes yes yes to the VR46 boys x marx relationship. I'd love to do that. I also wanna do a little bit of their pov/ Vales pov. Maybe as a separate work??

I haven't decided how to make it functional yet lol.

Defo a happy ending!! Don't worry, I've got you on that. There's also going to be some hurt/comfort in the next chapter, it's gonna be like dani,Alex, Jorge, dovi protecting marc as he falls apart hehe

[shsl-heck]

One thing that's had me thinking about Amy lately, is the tension between disgust and desire. She is horrified by the immensity of her desire for Victoria, but the shame and guilt over it can only ever make it worse. Fear and arousal, disgust and desire, all of them bleed into each other (we see this constantly in both porn and horror). It's like she has this splinter at the core of her being and she either cant realize or wont accept that the more and more she digs for it to try to get it out, the deeper she's driving it into herself. She cannot remove this without help from someone else. (Coincidentally, not being able to recognize that her attempts to do/be what she's supposed to are only making things worse is also what leads to the Enwretchening)

I'm aware there's a reading of Worm in which Amy's attraction to Victoria is purely an expression of a kind of morality focused ocd, but I personally think that's less interesting. She definitely experiences some level of that (the urge to fuck up a baby she's healing followed by disgust with herself is like a perfect example of an intrusive thought associated with that brand of ocd), but I think this is a case of *and* rather than *or*. My reading of Amy is that of a deeply lonely and emotionally neglected child clinging to the one person in her life that gives her any form of affection, whose attachment only gets increasingly complicated as she starts to grow up and realizes she is attracted to women.

She has never been treated as part of the family, has always felt on some level that she's only playing at being a sister to Victoria, and she is dealing with that during a stage of her life that is turbulent at best for even people raised in a healthy functional environment. There is a broad cultural taboo around sex and desire, but there's a special sort of self-loathing and fear that you're somehow predatory for finding someone attractive that a lot of queer people experience due to the stigma surrounding their sexuality and/or gender. Homoeroticism and attraction is seen as disgusting and fundamentally wrong by society no matter what. It is especially disastrous for Amy because even though she's never been able to see herself as Victoria's sister, she knows she's supposed to, and that adds a whole new layer of guilt and shame to even a passing thought about Victoria being attractive.

Then she triggers. Suddenly she not only has to pretend to be Amy Dallon the well behaved unintrusive family member, she has to be Panacea, the girl who performs miracles. She doesn't even have a secret identity to fall back on for privacy because of New Wave's gimmick. Any resentment about her role, or desire to live a normal life become more proof that she is a sick, evil person; a parasite who has wormed her way into the Good and Heroic Dallon-Pelham family and is eating away at them from the inside-out.

Even as it forces her to repress more and more of herself, Panacea also offers Amy what is seemingly her only chance to be Good like her family. Healing people isn't just something she has to do in order to avoid being a terrible person, but also how she can atone for everything else that's Bad about her. Saving people is a way to try to purge herself of the desire for Victoria, and to prove that she can be a Dallon in more than name.

Like, as awful and lesbophobic as Wildbow's handling of Amy was, there is something deeply compelling and even relatable about her to me. She perfectly captures an emotional state that I've struggled (and failed) to explain as I wrote and rewrote this post. It's the hunger, the guilt, the shame, the fear, the loneliness that settles on your skin like frost as a child when you accept that there must be something wrong with you, because if there wasn't then you wouldn't have to try so hard to be good.

[mariacallous]

Squander enough time on TikTok these days and the signs of creative deceleration are everywhere.

“Try-hard” slang is spreading. Competitive aging is a thing. Classic episodes of The Sopranos are fed to you in polished 25-second bites. Last October, the 2004 cult teen comedy Mean Girls was portioned into 23 parts to unanimous celebration. (Did I mention pirated content is on the rise?) Everyone, it seems, wants to revisit the world as it was two decades ago, of all places, on the so-called app of the future.

Relics of the New Millennium are again in vogue, and especially on TikTok, where you get the sense that everyone is chasing the fantasy of youth. Except, it’s just that—a fantasy.

“I keep getting served TikToks on [high-yield savings accounts] and 401ks,” one of my colleagues commented in Slack recently. “I believe the olds are in charge now.”

She’s right, of course. Millennials are currently outpacing Gen Z in the adoption of TikTok in the US, according to Pew Research Center data, which shows that the app's 30-49-year-old demographic is growing faster than its 18-29-year-old user base.

Such is the way on the social internet; still, the enshittification of TikTok continues.

One tell-tale sign of late-stage social media is the endless vomit of nostalgia regifted in pretty packaging. Tastes have aged, and the user experience is no longer one of giddy revelation—at one point, the only reaction the app seemed to generate among new users—but one of odd comfort.

It was inevitable, of course. Seasons change, apps pivot, and users learn to chase the adrenaline of the future through new and exotic machines of possibility.

When TikTok gained mass popularity in 2020 during the first outbreak of Covid-19, it signaled a reorientation of where we place value. Tastes were being reengineered. The app’s offerings were as robust as they were confounding: dance challenges, beauty recommendations, racial appropriation, expert sleuthing, and more fed its algorithmic churn. It wasn’t just endless but entertainingly so, earning a reputation for setting trends and establishing itself as an unofficial headquarters for Gen Z influencers—and, because the internet is a repeated comedy of errors, later platforming de-influencers.

Today, TikTok operates as the ideal precursor to AI and what the next digital revolution is ushering in—a blurring of realities, a blotting out. Ownership over “the sense organs of the public,” as Nicholas Carr phrased it, is the endpoint, the very future that companies like Meta and Apple want to build. And so TikTok persuades as the perfect tonic: a world of cyclical multimedia that lets you create, live in, or simply spectate at will. A 60-second harbinger of all that is coming, delivered on demand.

For many people, the sensations of digital life feel most alive on such an app. With art, suggests Jackson Arn, extreme sensation is a fraught strategy because of what it pulls off: As the artwork seduces, it also disgusts.

I now wonder if that was the point of socially-oriented technologies all along. They make you feel a little more alive. Again and again, they unlock dormant sensations: excitement, awe, satisfaction. Even disgust has the capacity to captivate. Because even in disgust there is a need to share, comment on, or understand the nature of spectacle, and how it functions. Only, the seduction of TikTok captivates a little too well, and as you age, carrying the experience of life on your shoulders while trying not to be crushed by it, you find yourself craving those sensations all the time.

That seems especially true for millennials, who were guaranteed a future that never arrived. They were dealt a bad hand—several bad hands—and saddled with the failures of those who came before them without a blueprint for a path forward. In February, I received a text from a family member. He'd applied for the SAVE Plan, and we exchanged mutual angst over our financial misfortunes, how so many friends are in the same bind, bonding over the recognition of unnatural loss, of another future we’ll never know.

Last week at the barbershop, I watched as a young man in his early thirties thumbed from video to video, his neck craned into his iPhone, blitzing through TikTok. He sat in the chair for about 40 minutes, and as the barber worked around him, not once did he glance away from his screen, except, to exclaim, “Look! You gotta see this one.”

So when I hear that millennials are usurping Gen Z as TikTok's leading demographic, I'm not shocked. The organs of our digital existence, like the body, are connected, flowing as they should even when complete comprehension evades reasoning. All of it is intertwined. The increasing thirst for mixed reality. Gen Z abandoning the rituals of digital life altogether for a more analog experience. The decline of TikTok as millennials eclipse the platform. The previous world is ending. So is social media as we knew it. And we again want to feel something—even if, and only for a little while, that something is 2004.

[beatrice-otter]

Fic Rec Meme

I love rec lists! Got this meme format from sixbeforelunch. Here are twelve recs in twelve categories: Angst, AU, Canon Divergence, Crossover, Fixit, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Post/Pre-Canon, Songfic, Whump.

1. Angst

what this darkness cannot swallow, it must spit out (24750 words) by Dialux Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Caranthir | Morifinwë/Haleth of the Haladin, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Maglor | Makalaurë, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Celegorm | Turcafinwë, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Curufin | Curufinwë, Amras & Amrod & Caranthir | Morifinwë, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Fëanor | Curufinwë, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Nerdanel, Caranthir | Morifinwë & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Caranthir | Morifinwë, Maedhros | Maitimo, Maglor | Makalaurë, Celegorm | Turcafinwë, Curufin | Curufinwë, Amras (Tolkien), Amrod (Tolkien), Fëanor | Curufinwë, Nerdanel (Tolkien), Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Brother-Brother Relationships, Father-Son Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Daughter Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Feanorian Family Feels, Dysfunctional Families Slowly Becoming Functional, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Therapeutic Vibe Of Planting Trees, Post-Canon Fix-It, Maedhros' Awful Sense Of Humor Post-Rebirth, No. None of the Feanorians Can Keep Secrets., Alternate Universe - Caranthir Fucks, How To Get A Guy Who Hates You To Kill You, ...how to FAIL at getting a guy who hates you to kill you, Fëanorian Week 2021 Summary:

Caranthir sighs, disgusted, and sits on the bed, as far as he can get from Celegorm without appearing like he’s halfway to crawling out of his skin. “I didn’t come back to life so I could hear how much my dying traumatized you.”

“You fucking bastard,” says Celegorm, and lunges.

[When Caranthir is reborn into Valinor, he must deal with everything he left behind in Beleriand- the annoying brothers, the overbearing parents, the family he lost and will never regain.

But there are things that Caranthir does not know. There are lies that have not yet been unwound. There are mercies he has never expected. It takes orange trees, infuriating brothers, silver ribbons and unseasonal thunderstorms, but slowly Caranthir learns precisely how wrong he is.]

2. Alternate Universe

New Wave (103324 words) by yellow_caballero Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake Characters: Stephanie Brown, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Arthur Brown, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Stephanie Brown is Robin, 1930s mobster movie + 90s kid PBS show + 00s tween girl cartoon, Steph's a skate punk Tim's a leet hacker and Bruce has NO idea what's happening, Can YOU jam with the console cowboys in cyberspace?, The Batman (Movie 2022) + The Batman (Cartoon 2004) + Turning Red basically, Stephanie Brown-centric Summary:

Some lunatic in a bat costume is running around Gotham clowning on fools, but local delinquent Stephanie Brown has way bigger problems. When her father and friends start joining mob wars Steph knows she has to do something about it before Gotham collapses. If that means joining up with rich dudes playing dress up, pasty nerds with hacking and photography habits, and throwing on a costume herself, then that’s just what she’ll have to do. Even if Batman works alone. She’s convincing.

In which Stephanie Brown rocks the radical nineties and becomes the first Robin, ruining Batman’s life and giving Tim Drake a hobby.

3. Canon Divergence

Listen To Your Heart (No!) (67914 words) by yellow_caballero Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Moon Knight (TV 2022), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Layla El-Faouly/Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly & Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant Characters: Jake Lockley, Layla El-Faouly, Khonshu (Moon Knight), Steven Grant (Marvel), Jean-Paul DuChamp, Marc Spector Additional Tags: Action & Romance, Drama & Romance, absolutely unprecedented levels of wifeguy & husbandgirl, layla's a bit of a reylo but we don't hold that against her, jake's over-reliance on WikiHow to navigate social situations, unstoppable 'I can fix him' vs immovable 'I can make her worse', Unreliable Narrator, internalized ableism, Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied Sexual Content, Autistic Jake Lockley, Ableism Summary:

One month after Marc Spector crawled inside an Egyptian temple and Jake Lockley walked out, Jake tracks down Layla El-Faouly and offers to help her take revenge and avenge her father. Jake is sure this is how flirting works. Pretty sure.

It's easy to fall in love with a badass protector of the night. It's a little harder to fall in love with Jake Lockley, your everyday assassin. And there's no way Layla El-Faouly could ever fall in love with Marc and Steven. There's no way they will ever meet.

Three acts on the subject of heartbreak.

4. Crossover

Big Hero Martian (42621 words) by althor42 Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Big Hero 6 (2014), The Martian - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Hiro Hamada, Baymax (Marvel), Cass Hamada, Mark Watney, Annie Montrose, Gogo Tomago, Wasabi-No Ginger, Fred | Fredzilla, Melissa Lewis (The Martian), Alex Vogel, Chris Beck, Beth Johanssen, Rick Martinez (The Martian), Teddy Sanders Additional Tags: hiro goes on a rescue mission, so it's on mars, small details, just build a ship, nbd Summary:

There would have been no rescue for Mark, if NASA had not noticed he was still alive. Unless of course, a certain Big Hero noticed instead.

5. Fix It

god loves everybody, don't remind me (70381 words) by napricot Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Erik Killmonger & T'Challa Characters: Erik Killmonger, T'Challa (Marvel), T'Chaka (Marvel), Ramonda (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Okoye (Marvel), Nakia (Black Panther), N'Jobu (Marvel), Erik Killmonger's Mother, Bast, Linda (Black Panther movies), W'Kabi (Marvel), Ulysses Klaue, Everett Ross, Zuri (Marvel) Additional Tags: Time Loop, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Wakanda (Marvel), Djalia | Ancestral Plane (Marvel), Erik Killmonger Lives, Family Summary:

N’Jadaka didn’t believe in the gods of his people. But belief was not a prerequisite of the gods’ attention, and the blood of the Panther tribe ran in N’Jadaka’s veins. Bast took hold of his soul in her mighty jaws and lifted it free of his body. She gave him a warning shake, just as she would a misbehaving kitten, and set him back. With one careful claw, she tweaked his path through time into a twisting loop. Wayward and abandoned though he was, N’Jadaka was still of her tribe. He could set things right, if given the chance.

Erik gets a do-over. Erik gets a lot of do-overs. Or: Erik Killmonger's own personal version of Groundhog Day, only with a lot more murder, dying, trips to the ancestral plane, awkward family conversations, and divine intervention.

6. Fluff

Cat Nap (8883 words) by galwednesday Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Clint Barton Additional Tags: Post-HYDRA Reveal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, modern WS!Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers, not sure if that counts as Shrunkyclunks or not, OC stands for Original Cat, accidental pet acquisition, Steve Rogers's Sadness Interior Decorating, Fluff and Humor Summary:

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

7. Humor

Mountains, Molehills (1175 words) by lalaietha Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Lilo & Stitch (2002) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: David Kawena/Nani Pelekai Characters: Nani Pelekai, Lilo Pelekai, David Kawena, Jumba Jookiba, Pleakley Summary:

Technically, David doesn't live here, but that "technically" is starting to get real thin, and he knows it. Which is why he chokes a bit when Lilo puts her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands, and says, "Are you going to ask my sister to marry you, or what?"

8. Hurt/Comfort

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home (48695 words) by motleyfam Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members & Tim Drake Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Janet Drake, Jack Drake Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Mother Hen Jason Todd, Hurt Tim Drake, Sick Tim Drake, Wayne Gala (DCU), Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, though tim will argue that one, Jason doesn't die, Tim Drake-centric, Concussions, Birthday Fluff, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, not bad people per se, but definitely people who should not have had a child ya feel?, Hospitals, Blood and Injury, Vomiting, 5+1 Things, Family Feels, Found Family, Infection, Stitches, Medical Inaccuracies, i mean i tried my best but i’m no doctor, Kid Tim Drake, Batfamily (DCU), Tim Drake Joins the Batfamily Early Series: Part 1 of Settle Our Bones, Part 1 of 5+1 (expansion pack) Summary:

Tim is good at galas.

No, scratch that—Tim is great at galas. He’s been attending them ever since the age of three, when his parents first stuffed him into his little Gymboree tuxedo and gave him a stern lecture about ‘sitting quietly’ and ‘speaking when spoken to.’ He knows all the rules: what to wear, how to stand, when to smile, what to say, what not to say. He knows how to come across as polite and intelligent and charming, and on absolutely any other day, he would be rocking this.

---

Or, my take on a ‘Tim Joins the Family Early’ AU, told through a series of sleepovers—most of which are unplanned.

Featuring pre-teen Tim, Alive!Jason, and a whole lot of hurt/comfort.

9. Missing Scene

Mercy (420 words) by Selena Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Babylon 5 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Londo Mollari & Delenn Characters: Delenn (Babylon 5), Londo Mollari Additional Tags: Episode Related, Backstory, Flash Forward, Guilt Summary:

Londo and Delenn and the mercy of the universe.

10. Post-Canon or Pre-Canon

Heartrate (7199 words) by avocadomoon Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Enterprise Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: T'Pol/Charles "Trip" Tucker III Characters: Charles "Trip" Tucker III, T'Pol (Star Trek) Additional Tags: Grieving, Alternate Universe - Canon Fix-It, Slice of Life Summary:

"I shall endeavor to impress you," T'Pol says. "Even after all these years, I believe I am still capable."

11. Songfic

Do people still write songfics? I mostly find them annoying, because my musical taste is eclectic and so I rarely know the songs they're referencing. Which is why I don't have any of them in my bookmarks. However! I have a fic which is a crossover with a song--Slip Slidin' Away by Paul Simon--so that will have to do.

Assistance to British Nationals Abroad (20372 words) by melannen Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: British Government Cats RPF, Slip Slidin' Away - Paul Simon (Song), Monstress (Comics), Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch, Young Wizards - Diane Duane Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Palmerston (Chief Mouser to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office), Larry (Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office), Tam Tam (First Record-Keeper of the Is'hami Temple), Cronus (Assistant to the Chief Whip), Toby (Rivers of London), Molly (Rivers of London), The Woman Who Became A Wife, The Man Who Wore His Passion For His Woman Like A Thorny Crown, The Father Who Had A Son, Siffha'h (Tower Bridge Gating Team) Additional Tags: Crossover, Cats, London, worldgates, Tentacle Monsters, Spiders, Dogs, Wizards, Yuletide Series: Part 2 of Author's favorites, Part 2 of Rivers of London crossovers Summary:

Three cats, three humans, a dog and a tarantula walk through a Gate -

12. Whump

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorized (258290 words) by Batbirdies Chapters: 34/34 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Everyone, Jason Todd & Titus (DCU) Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, Titus the Dog Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Family, Major self esteem issues, Father-Son Relationship, Adopted Sibling Relationship, injury and illness, Unintended Animal Therapy, Dogsitting, Flashbacks, Nightmares, References to Dogfighting, Some Medium level violence, Deep Seated Issues, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, bad language, Vaguely Suicidal Behavior, It’s not really how I intended it to go but here we are, Bruce Wayne hasn’t always been a good parent, So much angst, Fluff and Angst, Exposition Heavy, Slow burn family relationships, Lazarus Pit Madness, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Platonic Cuddling, Fix It Fic, canon divergent after Damian’s resurrection, Pre-Rebirth, An attempt to combine all the other timelines Series: Part 4 of Emotional Motion Sickness Summary:

Jason made a deal with Bruce, no killing, and there would be no more conflict between them. At least on patrol. Jason reasoned it would be easier to accomplish his goals without constantly fighting Batman along the way.

It didn’t change anything, not really. Not until he found an old gift he never knew about and Bruce asked him to dogsit Titus while he and Damian were out of town.

Not until the Lazarus Pit started bothering him again.

AKA: My take on a Jason rejoins the family fic.

This was so hard to do, to pick just one fic for these categories! To console myself from having to choose between beloved favorites, I shall simply link to my Pinboard bookmarks and my AO3 bookmarks. Have fun!

[wirewitchviolet]

I am so sick of poverty.

I am doubled over right now in my broken chair layering my clothes up because it's 20 degrees out and I can't afford heat. I haven't eaten anything tonight because I can't afford food. Things could be worse. I still have electricity. I still have a roof over my head, for now, in a bad neighborhood where I'm too terrified to ever set foot outside and I'm constantly having to deal with screaming, car alarms, and sirens. I have no real way of paying my rent, and haven't in some time. I just keep begging and getting one-off help from people and eventually that luck is going to run out. I genuinely did not expect to still be alive this month, I don't know if I'm going to be a month from now, and I genuinely cannot picture anything that can change my situation.

I'm just sitting here right now thinking to myself, "why is my life like this?" and I really hate how the answer really just is that I'm trans.

If you don't know what that means, and statistically you don't, that means I was born with a really quite boring fluke medical thing where my endocrine system makes certain chemicals in the wrong ratio which, if untreated, completely messes me up with really gross and disgusting physical symptoms and causing all sorts of awful brain issues that make it basically impossible to live... BUT, there's really cheap readily available supplements to get those where they should be and then you're fine. So in a halfway reasonable world, this would just be like how some people need glasses or a hearing aid or any other sort of medication people might need to take for something.

But, we don't. We live in this super messed up world where because being trans is such a rare and uninteresting thing, a tiny handful of weirdos, for reasons beyond my comprehension, have this all-consuming obsession with doing everything in their power to harm trans people, and have spent literally their entire lifetimes spreading utterly bonkers propaganda, lobbying lawmakers, getting onto medical boards, and just acting as traditional good old fashioned stalkers, with the net result being this swirling miasma of false information, stigmatization, mistrust, and of course, depriving people of necessary medical treatment.

One of the nastier specific effects there is that you can't just get the aforementioned medications you need to live a normal boring life as a trans person. There is this whole wild and wacky hazing ritual built into international medical standards where you're literally required to humiliate yourself in public for a good year and make damn sure everyone around you knows you're trans, and can properly make your life hell for it.

So back to my little story here. I'm trans, I decided I would in fact like to have some sort of bearable life with a functioning brain and a minimum of weird gross physical problems, and had to announce this to the world. IMMEDIATELY, I have stalkers out the wazoo. I'm getting death threats. Family isn't speaking to me. Friends aren't speaking to me. People I've worked with/for my whole life cut all ties with me. I just had to sort of start life over from nothing well into adulthood.

And you know, I managed that. I've worked as a journalist and a game designer my whole life, those skills aren't the worst for working on your own, things were starting to get off the ground. This despite/because the whole thing with neo-nazis coming out of the woodwork and attacking trans people both with life-ruining tactics and, you know, guns. But, you know, as fate would have it, some people who don't do proper research put too much stock in some cover stories suggesting that they're actually targeting journalists, and when it shakes out to the contrary, decide to absolutely crush the trans people whose lives are actually in danger and are reporting on this... while at the same time the worst TERF in America is literally getting trans journalists blacklisted, stalking people, teaming up with neo-nazis, all that good stuff.

Anyway, as it happens, basically all the people I've met in rebuilding my life care enough about staying on the good sides of some of the above people, and are all too happy to completely throw me under the bus, not only cutting all ties with me but also starting some horrible rumors and leaking my closely guarded personal details to some particularly frightening people, forcing me to flee my home with just what I can carry out in a day... multiple times. And of course, again, I've lost more or less all of my friends, my ability to find work, and I have the setbacks of sudden homelessness and someone skipping out on a joint charity project with all the donations people had made, burning down all the vital operating resources to boot.

And this of course is all before the whole bit where the site formally known as Twitter spontaneously kicked me off with no chance to exchange alternate contact info with anyone, because wouldn't you know it, the new owner has an irrational hatred of trans people and has neo-nazi stalkers of mine kissing up to him in a way he's weirdly protective of.

But wait, there's more! All these fascist stalkers monitor me at all times to make sure I can't get any work of any kind, and I'm forced to live purely off direct patreon donations and government programs. But that gets into some other fun problems. Stalking comes with identity theft, evading would-be murderers involves changes of legal name and address. These confuse a lot of government databases, so I lack a valid social security card in there somewhere. Also causes problems with paypal. And with medcab programs. And then there's good old fashioned medical discrimination. I haven't seen a dentist in years because the last couple I've been referred to outright discriminate against trans patients. I need some surgery performed, and my health plan keeps telling me I can only see surgeons who have almost no experience if I'm lucky, and a history of horribly botched procedures otherwise.

Oh, and the reason I have no food? I WAS on an assistance program, but in the yearly audit, someone noticed that my rent significantly exceeds my income. You would hope seeing that they'd realize I'm REALLY in trouble and if anything give me more money, but hey, one of those weird bits of propaganda about trans people is that we're all sex workers, so the people handling this case leaned into that bias and are insisting I must be withholding income information with some vague insinuations on what they're speculating, and denying me access to food, BECAUSE I'm losing access to shelter.

So yeah, if people could just be normal about trans people, I'd have no stalkers, still be able to work, see doctors when I need to, and if I had shortfalls still, at least be able to eat. As is... yeah I might just die in the next big cold snap while I try to beg money off people to cover my rent and buy a few cans of soup.

Sorry to be a downer. Patreon link if you want to try to help.

[ourpickwickclub]

I don’t think her relationship with the band was ever what she would call toxic or she would never be willing to perform or see them at all.  that just seems like the wrong word, and way too harsh for what she in the band have been through. That’s definitely something I’d reserve for her relationship with GR, a person from which she has severed every single possible facet of her life that she could while still having children with him. 

I would not put the band and GR in anything close to the same category, but I do have to politely disagree here.

I read the things posted and liked. I listened to the interviews and clips by the ND guys. And I saw the comments by some ND fans and the responses from “friends” of the band, who often were quoting what they personally heard from the band. It was all very toxic. But there are degrees of toxic. There is dysfunctional family toxic and psycho abuser toxic.

Both GR and the ND people didn’t respect her, resented her while capitalizing on the very thing they resented, both violated her trust, made her feel small, jeopardized her health, publicly humiliated her, and found ways to blame her for their behavior. But on hugely different scales.

The ND guys didn’t respect her by not seeing why she would want to do a solo album after her divorce. GR didn’t respect her by having multiple affairs, denying them, be awful to her, and blaming her for them.

The ND guys left her out and turned a blind eye to how much she was juggling as a mom with three young kids on tour by herself, while still expecting her write albums and be the perfect front woman. GR jeopardized her health by knowing her suspicions about him were correct but making her feel insane to the point she couldn’t eat or function properly and collapsed in public, then inferred she was being dramstic, and left for 300 days while telling the press and whole world that she needed to be a better mother and put her children first. All while also spending all of her money and wanting her to make more.

Gwen has repeatedly wished the ND guys well, posted about Dream Car, said nice things about her time in the band (and also lifted the shade in a healthy way on how lonely she felt towards during the last shows). She said they had never broken up. She always keep a foot in the door.

With GR, the door slammed shut and she keeps it shut for her own safety. What we know is disgusting and we know we only know that tip of the iceberg. The more she had time to process what she went through there, the more she is traumatized and pulls further away. She has too much ptsd to be around him and I’m sure she has spent a lot of time and money making sure the kids are as equipped as they can be to deal with him.

You can have a toxic family and still have a family if the level of dysfunction is manageable. It might not always be ideal but the goods can outweighs the bads. But you will never have a manageable level of dysfunction around a malignant, covert narcissist with psychopathic tendencies that only knows how to live in toxic, and that is what GR is.

- B

[peachymilkandcream]

Break Me Slowly|Part 13| Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I'm trying to get back in the swing of posting these the same day every week but I've been brainrotting about Afton in the movie, everyone's saying hear me out he's hot and I kinda see it-)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

The whole way back to this new place Evelyn was supposed to be staying she was numb. It was no surprise that she was pregnant, Levi had kept her locked away for so long filled with cum she should have been expecting this. But nothing could have prepared her for this, nothing could have helped her cope with the idea she was carrying his child, the awful, disgusting man's child.

"You doing okay..?" Reiner's voice had come out of nowhere.

"How can I be...I just got told I'm carrying my abuser's child..."

"You could get rid of it..?" He offers weakly.

She shakes her head. "I can't do that, this child didn't commit any crime against me, I couldn't think to do that." She hoped she sounded convincing, the real reason was of course Levi finding her, even if she did it now, he'd know.

"Sorry, stupid idea." Poor sweet Reiner, he was trying his very hardest to be supportive and comforting, she should be a bit nicer to him, after all he was sticking his neck out for her, if only knew how pointless that was.

"Thanks for everything by the way, I know you didn't have to do this."

Now he perks up, since her discovery she had barely said two words to him. "Hey don't sweat it. It's the least I could do after all the shit he put you through." Clearly he was uncomfortable talking about Levi, and she couldn't really blame him, it wasn't exactly a sweet subject.

"Hey Reiner?" She ventured.

"Yeah what's up?"

"We were friends, I know it's awkward, but we're on the same side now, right? Can we go back to how things were before all that?"

"Oh yeah, of course, sorry I'm making this weird."

"No it's okay, I'm the weird one." Her ears were burning from how tense and forced their conversations sounded, silence was better for now.

So they continued on, until they stood outside, staring at each other a moment before he opens the door.

"So you live alone?"

"Not exactly-"

Before Evelyn can ask a clarifying question an older woman is waiting at the door, arms crossed and deeply annoyed.

"Hey mom-"

==============================================

"You look terrible Levi." Erwin broke Levi out of his head of thoughts.

His head raised out of his hands to look up at his Commander, his eyes burning from lack of sleep. "Thanks Erwin you know I value your opinion so highly."

"What happened to you? People are asking questions." He covers his nose. "And you've been drinking."

"No shit." He rakes his hands through his unruly hair. "I didn't think it would be so hard to live without her."

"You can't be serious. This temper tantrum, is because your wife isn't on your beck and call right now?"

"I can't help it, I can'y sleep or function without her."

"If you had upheld your end of the deal and gotten her pregnant this would've never happened. Plus there's Eren, if you had kept him in line he never would've left and we wouldn't have had to send anyone after him."

Levi chooses not to address that one. "Who's asking questions?"

"A few low rank soldiers, but Hange especially."

Levi curses under his breath, that was the last person he needed poking around. Hange knew him, Evelyn, and Erwin better than they knew themselves. While she could be a bit dense sometimes, she'd know if something was wrong.

"What did you say?"

"Well she knows the situation with Eren, but I told her that Evelyn has been gone because she had a nervous breakdown when she found out about Marley's threats. Therefore if Evelyn ever tells Hange the truth she won't believe her. Damage control."

Levi sighs with relief. "Thank you Erwin. I owe you."

"Oh yes you do. I gave you your wife, don't waste it by being a drunken fool. If you're the lonely go find a prostitute or something, I need you back to how you were so when the time comes to go get them you're perky."

"Despite everything I'm a faithful man." He sneers.

"If that continues to affect your work I'll order you to go sleep with someone. What about that Petra Ral? Your assistant? She'd be willing at any moment."

Levi thought of Erwin's suggestion, but Petra wasn't that much to look at, and no one could get him going like his wife could. Ultimately, he rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say Commander."

Erwin points at him. "Get it together, I'm serious. Sleep, get laid, loose the alcohol, whatever it takes. I need you." He leaves before Levi has a chance to stand and salute, almost colliding with Petra.

"Oh C-Commander." She was slightly startled to see him here of all places, sure Levi was his direct subordinate, but he still rarely visited him since the wedding, she hoped it was because he didn't approve of it. Just like he had approved of the idea of Levi having an affair with her, which in and of itself sent goosebumps all over her.

"Petra." He says in greeting, trying to brush past her.

"Wait uhm, sir, could I talk to you a minute." She asks innocently, Levi rarely gave her any information on his marriage, maybe she could squeeze Erwin for the details.

"Of course." He walks a ways with her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"It's...Captain Levi, he's been acting so strange, and usually he opens up to me, but.." She wills tears into her eyes. "He isn't, and I'm worried for him.."

Erwin pauses for a moment. "Levi is just taking it hard that Evelyn is on a mission without him right now. He'll get his act together soon I'm sure, loneliness was something he always had a hard time dealing with."

Warmth fills her, Evelyn was out of the way for who knew how long, perfect for her to swoop up poor lonely, and perhaps drunk Levi. Maybe now she could seduce him and then he'd compare the two and find Evelyn lacking.

"Oh I see, I'll try and lift his spirits Commander." She salutes. "Thank you."

"Of course Soldier." Erwin simply walks away, not giving her large grin a second thought.

Once he was out of sight Petra ran to her barracks, digging out anything remotely sexy to put on. She came across the lingerie she had bought when she made up her mind who the man of her dreams was. She hadn't worn it and wanted Levi to tear it off in a moment of passion.

Over top of that was a lace red dress that made it look like she had cleavage. She cursed Evelyn's larger chest but figured that Levi was to refined to care too much about things like that. Her hair was teased into a small clip on the back of her head, an easy access to hickeys. She wanted everyone to know she had given her virginity to the most perfect man alive.

With a last application of bright red lipstick she pictured the red rim around the base of his dick, she knew Evelyn couldn't deep throat him like she would, in that she'd be better. In her opinion she looked hotter than that whore, and she thought Levi would think so too. Tan high heels completed the outfit, with a final look she blew a kiss at the mirror and headed out.

With a shaking hand she knocked on his office door, most everyone had gone home or to bed by now, but she saw the light at the bottom of his door. Without a wife to go home to right now he was dedicating himself to work, as he always pushed himself too hard when no one stopped him.

"Come in."

Now was the time, now her dreams would come true, everything she had hoped for was finally happening. The door swung open with a tiny squeak, getting his attention. His head was buried in his hands, bottle of liquor open with a shot glass in front of him, and he might have even been crying.

"Petra? Why are you dressed like that?" He seems confused before his eyes widen. "Petra-"

[memorygirls]

Because I’m a young attractive woman (I use this term very loosely - let’s say at least not what society thinks I should look like as a high supports needs autistic/disabled person), my autistic traits, burnout, depression, meltdowns, childlike/intense interests, self isolating, extreme sensitivity/empathy, problems with social relationships, eating/self image issues, trying to mask better have always been seen as personal & moral failings, lifestyle choices, “tumblr/edgy personality traits”, something to be fixed, shamed out of, that eventually I will grow out of feeling like this. Just some silly woman who will realise how juvenile she’s being eventually!

If I was a man, would it have taken me until my mid-late 20s, after years of violently refusing to go to school as a child (until police were called) or outside or not talk to people or look people in the eyes - because it made me feel disgusting/not in control to be seen while not masked/looking/feeling okay. Feeling like a monster and alien and not knowing why I was so awful or acting this way when nobody else did. Would he have been screened for something sooner instead of just being like “silly girl doesn’t think she’s cute so she’s gonna stay inside, it must be all it’s all for men/social approval, she will get over it” “You’re just depressed/socially anxious get over yourself and force yourself through it, it’s your own fault”

I realised at a very young age, the better you look and the quieter you are the better you’re treated or at least glossed over socially. I saw makeup, style, body language, interests even as a way to mask and got so hyper fixated on it/myself/hyper vigilant that even to this day I can’t go outside when I’m not feeling my best. Like I’m playing a part of “charminglovelynormalgirl.exe” on those good days, and days like today where I can leave my house or clean or function or throw up when I go in the car… I feel like I’m not even real, like that “other me” must just be an act. How can she be so different to this me. Like I feel totally disconnected to myself at times like this… it makes for some really complex trauma and identity issues… that’s just being a silly insecure girl to the rest of society.

Also those people who only see me irl every 6 months when I’m in “prettygirl.exe” mask mode, absolutely think I’m fine, or just a little anxious/shaky because look how great and charming and nice I am, how well I can communicate, the rest of the time is just me choosing to be inside/alone/hating myself because I enjoy it, obviously. I’ve ruined my whole life as an excuse to live this way. Absolutely.

[ask-mortarion-the-death-lord]

[Same anon as mortarion daddy issues^3 haver ask]

Ohh he has the energy of a pathetic wet kitten who just dunked his head into a bowl of milk and is just sitting there SOPPING wet woth the consequences of his actions...

On a more serious note, I think that what makes him especially compelling to me is that most of his actions don't fall into the absolute wacky moon logic gw often does, and they actially make sense for his character.

Like yeah a guy who spent years abused by a very powerful paternal figure WOULD be naturally distrustful when another on eof those shows up. Or the way he constantly tries to do. very grand acts to proove his power? To proove he is worthy of survival in the eyes of the powers that be? I feel like that is totally something he learned while under Necare's "guidance". The constant need to reaffirm his strenght as a way of coping with the feeling of helplesness in the face of his entrie life having been just a very complicated chess move orchestrated by a being he cannot even hope to oppose??

Hes just so. Arghhhh i want to chew on him like on a dogtoy

well spite is definitely an important factor of why mortarion acts the way he does, i think the other essential factor to consider when analyzing mortarion is how hes a character that 'lives in contradiction' so to speak both more so then other characters and somewhat unintentionally when we consider how many writers with conflicting ideas have taken a swing at writing mortarion.

hes a character who values strength and a Darwinist mindset, practicality over performance to the point of being performance itself like how the death guard value their armours battle damage so much as to only ever repair things that threaten functionality without reducing the aesthetic of that scar. that is an incredibly vain thing to do to some extent as that kind of culture takes practical consideration to the point of preformative gestures of masculinity, look how badass i am my armours covered in scars, and its into that culture that mortarion is so fully immersed and genuinely seems to like.

mortarion is also a character that greatly values the sanctity of life, ironically enough for someone whos battle tactics generally fall in the 'exterminatus' end of the spectrum of things but he does genuinely value life quite highly, despite also holding a Darwinist survival of the fittest disdain for that same sense of life. he has a wall on barbarus dedicated to ever son of his that's fallen in battle, he's had multiple noted incidents of crying or atleast a deep sense of regret over the death of his sons in pursuit of his goals, his disdain for 'the order' that rules over the galaspar system mostly stems from a feeling that they treat life all too cheaply in their monstrous behaviour which pushes him to take the extreme actions he does, what pushed him to begin liberating the people of barbarus was a feeling of disgust at necare and the overlords of barbaruses treatment of the human populations in the vally, and the very thing that has almost always secured his downfall into nurgles worship across the settings history [putting aside whether or not he 'knew' what typhus was planning] was the desire to free his sons and his followers from the insurmountable suffering nurgle was inflicting on them in that moment in the warp.

mortarion hates and disdains weakness, in large part because he's prone to that same weakness effectively [either emotionally or in regards to physical failures like not being able to kill necare], and its a pattern that extends to widely across his character. he hates psykers and sorcery, because he has a deeper understanding of it then most and its abuses to the point of trying to overcome it through expanding his knowledge on it in the 'fight fire with fire' hairbrained solution so many imperial xanthite inquisitors inevitably come to out of fearful awe of its possibilities. he dislikes many of his brothers for having it easier then him, but totally not because he's jealous and desires the more comfortable lives they had cause that would be admitting to his own weakness.

hell i personally stand by the assertion that modern day mortarion is the way he his because he's balls to the wall on copium trying to convince himself that he totally wanted to be a decayed meat puppet for nurgle and is not at all upset and depressed at the way things have gone leading to an ever present cycle of depressed misery, to violent self hatred, to grandiose gestures covering for bitter petty spite at whoever's garnered his ire this week.

well hes written a bit too 'cartoon super villainy' in chaos gate daemonhunters for my taste, i do think its so perfectly in character for him to concoct a grand scheme of revenge against one specific dude [kaildor draigo], justify it as part of a wider strategic aim and not at all because hes mad at one guy in particular, and then when things go south because things always go south get mad and blame it on someone else as you flip the game board over. that speaks to the heart of mortarions writing as an antagonist i would say, even if i also think he could stand to have more wins under his belt if only for credibilitys sake as a threat.

[machinesbleedtoo]

Cluster B personality disorders are manageable, actually

it's always really awkward trying to explain to people how i manage antisocial + narcissistic personality disorder well. people have a really hard time wrapping their head around the concept that We Are People and like any disorder, we can manage it with help. there's this belief that if you're a narcissist or a psychopath you're unworthy of love and a lost cause, which is what made me a monster in the first place. other people kept telling me to just be empathetic, to stop being a dick, etc; i didn't know what that meant, and so i decided other people were the problem because they did nothing but explode at me for what i thought was no reason because no one helped me understand the reason. I was meant to just "know".

i was diagnosed retroactively at 20-fucking-7, when i'd started to work out how to live like a normal person (very patient and loving friends were to blame for that). when i was thirty years old, a psychiatrist said to me: "you obviously have feelings, what do they look like for you? how do they feel?" - i didn't know how to answer him. other people had convinced me i didn't have feelings for most of my life. which is part of why i was a callous bastard - it did not help then (but it does now for the most part) that i'm really good at compartmentalization. it took me a good number of years to know how to answer his question.

i have feelings, yes; we all do. we'd be dead otherwise. they're what drive us to act on things, and the neurotransmitters that work on emotions work on physical functions as well. this assumption about a person is not an excuse to abuse them. it's no excuse to treat them like a catharsis piñata. you could be a monster, too, under the same circumstances as i or anyone who has these disorders far worse than i do.

but it's really hard for me to read myself. it takes a lot more of a feeling for it to break the surface than is normal, and i was never taught to identify what a feeling is catered to my own uniqueness (something everyone should be afforded).

and i have a disconnect between physical and emotional reactions - i didn't think i felt disgust, because i don't get a visceral response to gross things. a lot of my emotions are just different shades of anger. if something disgusts me i get an angry "get the fuck away from me" feeling, i don't gag or whatever. it does set off my diagnosed OCD in some instances, which adds anxiety to the mix.

so i'd do things like be mega stressed and not feel it, then explode outwards like a neurotic control freak because i had no idea what my limits were. or how to solve the problem i was presently facing. i had to train myself to notice the signs in my thought patterns, rather than my body.

it turns out emotional empathy is based on context; how am i supposed to react "normally" to people when i don't know what "normal" is? i used to do some awful things to people when they were experiencing fear because i didn't understand it. i thought it was quaint. in the words of a friend, i was "sciencing the shit out of the situation." i didn't get answers or understand how people worked the healthy way, so i resorted to my own measures (which, of course, did not give me the answers i sought either.)

i have a hard time telling positive and negative emotions apart, which is good in some ways - i just let myself feel things. but the feelings last not very long. and are usually delayed. i'm unable to consent to things as a 34 year old adult normally, because when presented with something i don't care, which does not mean i want it. and because i don't care, i don't know it's a "maybe" at the time. when something bad happens to me it takes me a long time to even realize, and i can't purge it. this is my burden to bear - other people cannot read my mind. but a mental breakdown would be cathartic.

to deal with this botched brain of mine, i recognize it has strengths too. i raised a very well behaved cat, because i am more uncompromising than she is. and she is not afraid when i take her to the vet, because i am a source of emotional stability for her; i'm not reactive, so it calms her. i am able to Persist doing things that are unpleasant like trimming her ass hair, and she's allowed to vent - scratch, yell, bite - and i stay Null and it's over and she doesn't hide or run away because a) she was allowed to express the discomfort b) it was over quickly, which it wouldn't be if i let her carrying on make me stop the ordeal.

i am able to spot an anxious person from across the room. i was exploited a lot when i was young, and so it felt natural to exploit other people in vulnerable positions - something i mistakenly thought i was incapable of. i was always so good at spotting them with this predator brain of mine.

but i started to instead ask those people if they are okay. at first it felt insincere and bad and stupid because i wasn't Allowed to show care for other people, because psychopaths don't do that, because it's always mean spirited or fake when they do. but it became a habit. and it became normal. and it became a strength of mine. i do it because it's the right thing to do - i don't personally have to feel emotional about it for that to be real.

i am able to admit mistakes and apologize because i know when i need to, since my brain cycles through a narcissism spiral, and it's like -- bitch if you're reacting that severely you know you're wrong. it was another thing that sucked and felt insincere to begin with, but with practice it got easier. and with practice it caused me less discomfort. when my brain says arrogant things i respond with citation needed. my neuroscience education certainly helps with my perspective reorientation too.

i'm heavily medicated for these disorders + ADHD + OCD, which helps curb the anger and impulsiveness. i am really good at working with people now - these things being managed and my clinical nonplussed nature makes communication easy. i am able to de-escalate situations well, too.

i've had people apologize for crying, but i was so focused on listening to them i didn't notice - so they didn't have to feel bad about it. because i don't care that they're crying. i care about them. an intellectual sense of care is something everyone carries; it's what makes us choose to be patient, to listen, to mitigate the damage emotional reactivity can cause.

i have high cognitive empathy; i might not react to the emotional state of another person, but i know that my read on the situation will be inaccurate. so i simply ask them what they need, without assumption. this is something i wish more people were able to do. i get very uncomfortable with platitudes, personally - because i just can't relate to them at all and i feel pressured to Perform emotionally. that's just one example of different needs.

there's a lot more i could write about here - and i'm not really sure why i decided to write this now. i guess because the world is very painful lately, and these disorders get used as insults, as armchair diagnoses of people we don't like. there's a myriad of ways to be an asshole. maybe don't contribute to the problem of neglect that creates monsters like the one i could have become.

i am no longer 'a psychopath' because i no longer score on the checklist. but i carry these disorders with me, and i will forever, and i'm grateful that there were people in my life despite it all that loved me anyway.

a disclaimer:

i'd hazard against self-diagnosing these things; you might be on the autism spectrum (most of my close friends are, because we compliment eachother quite well in how our brains work), or have psycopathy-like traits during manic episodes, or have a lack of empathy because of apathy. you might have alexithymia from other causes. etc. i was assessed by both a psychiatrist with a criminology degree and one specializing in personality disorders.