#especially when those people say they care so much for victims

[dontcallpanic]

I love these points SO, So much! I was sat here going yes, yes, exactly! Yes!

Poor Derek not knowing how to get a house or a safe space - that really got me actually and I was wondering if it was also linked to not wanting to have too many good things. So if he has a house or a space he likes, when he inevitably looses it (in his mind) that feels so much worse than somewhere he doesn't care about so much being destroyed. Imagine getting to the point where he restored the Hale House and then it got torn down again... Ffffddd

Also Fuji your point about him having to take out Peter to protect Scott makes so much sense! But also oh god imagine having to be in that position where you have to kill your last remaining family member (from his perspective) to protect this guy that keeps getting you arrested and blaming you for literally everything! I was also wondering about it becoming one of those goals you get fixated on. Like yeah if I can only just get through X or if I can just get more powerful, if I can get stronger, if I can get better, then I can fix it all, then the problem will go away, then I can protect everyone.

Oh also - did you know there are more F's to the trauma response list - some of which I think also fit Derek. They're Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fuck, Friend and Flop. It's to take into account how we often have to play nice, or fuck or play along with perpetrators just to survive. To account for the fact that behaviour can externally look like one thing but internally the motivations are /extremely/ different. And again we don't get a choice in what our brain will select. It's just whatever it decides is our best chance of survival. And again it's definitely not going to look well adjusted, because it's not exactly a well adjusted situation. It's already deeply fucked up.

Oh and Derek having to show that he's useful just to be allowed to exist always breaks my heart. You put this SO Well. Being useful I would guess feels safe to him. You can also see him doing the needing people/pack but being so terrified of loosing them or hurting them that he pushes them away first pattern that you would totally do if you had been through all that. And then throws his own body and life around like some kind of wrecking ball because neither things are of high value in his mind.

Also your line about pleading with Stiles and Scott to stay alive by saying how useful he is totally broke me. You're spot on with that and it's just tragic.

I'm genuinely staggered by the lack of empathy and understanding but I was also thinking about what Pdxtrent said about him being one of the best representations of trauma in media (and I totally agree) and in a really awful way it kind of makes sense that he wouldn't get a lot of empathy or sympathy because real life survivors get treated this way all the time too. His response feels so True to life, it garners a true to life response from many people. Especially because he doesn't play the victim (and I love that for him) most people/survivors dont - actually! Again, you can't always tell motivations just by watching someone's outward behaviour - although you can obviously get a good idea, but there's also a whole internal world driving that behaviour that you can't see. I feel that this is where Derek is at - and at least past of the reason why he's deeply misunderstood.

There's also something there about the extreme expectations placed on young adults but that might be for another time!

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I have a prompt idea, Trans reader (ftm) in the 1940s being bullied, steve and bucky find reader and help him, start to friends to poly lovers (steve x bucky x reader), fluff with a little angst and soft smut, just an idea

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FTM reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a whole lot about the era for trans people, especially in Brooklyn during those years. So, I’m just writing on a feeling and adding what feels right. Have I ever mentioned that pre-serum Steve is one of my favorites?

Writing this actually reminded me of something I wrote forever ago, called party of one, two, three? You can read part 1 and 2 here, if you are interested. I wasn’t really in the mood to write detailed smut, so.

Being a trans guy in the 30s and 40s wasn’t easy, but was anything during that time? Depending on where you were from and when you came out, you might have had the chance to live as a man.

If let’s say you moved to Brooklyn when you were old enough to know that you were a man, and you had always presented as such, then you might have been able to get a job, and if you knew the right people, fake documents.

If you had always lived in Brooklyn, then it was a lot harder, as most just assumed you were a lady who dressed like a lad because you didn’t want to “do your duty” as a woman, or whatever they had on their minds.

Either way, Steve and Bucky were some of the few people who supported you no matter what, if they only knew you as a man, or if you guys had grown up together. If you fit in Steves clothes you could borrow his, and if Steve was too small, well, then bucky had a closet with clothes too.

Being picked on was hard to avoid, in either situation. The first would be because you were such a small, scrawny and feminine guy. The second because you were a lady that needed to be put in her place.

The second was always more dangerous. The first, theyd just rough you up a bit and taunt you a little, but it always ended up as more of a “haha we are just taking the piss”. The second? It felt like the men who cornered you had something to prove, to you or themselves you didn’t know. But they wanted to prove that they could “fix” or “correct” you.

Living in Brooklyn and being a weirdo like you meant you knew how to fight, somewhat at least. Enough to not go down without a fight. But no matter how much you practiced, keeping up with multiple fully grown men was difficult.

If you already knew Steve and Bucky or not, the two would step in when they saw this. Steve first, being the righteous guy he is, would run in swinging. Scrawny arms and wheezing breaths, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns, the blonde so incredibly enraged at the very idea of someone treating another person this way.

Steve never lasted long though, but luckily Bucky was never far behind. In the end, Steve always looked as beat up as you, and maybe it was because he bruised and bled so easily with how sick he was.

Steve struggling to his feet and holding out a hand to pull you up, eyes still sparkling and teeth bloody as he grinned, was enough to make your heart race.

Bucky at least didn’t look like he was the main victim of your group of attackers. He was a bit ruffled up, sure, but he still looked mostly put together.

It should shock no one that Bucky easily led you and Steve back to his and Steves apartment, where Bucky got to work patching you both up as they made you talk about the guys who did it, and why. Steve because he wanted to go back out there and smack them straight, and Bucky to be on the safer side.

Be it the first or twentieth time they save you from your so-called bullies, Steve and Bucky stayed just as intense and caring. Even when they didn’t have a lot, or Steve was sick, you always felt like you belonged and was as much of a man as them.

When you three started dating it got a little easier. Everyone already knew that Steve Rogers as built like a twig, but would swing until there was blood if he needed too. He was snarling, snapping and as feral as those starving alley dogs. He was as protective as one too, not just of you but Bucky too.

Bucky wasn’t much better, though he hid it more successfully. Everyone thought that Barnes was the charming, sweet talker, who liked to talk it out without fighting. But they were wrong, when it came to you and Steve, Buck could be worse than Steve.

Both your fellas were protective and possessive in their own ways, but you couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same. You wanted to drown the men who antagonized Steve for his height and sickness in the piers. And jealousy reared its hideous head when the pretty ladies fluttered their lashes at Bucky whenever he passed.

The three of you were all a mess, but you were each other’s mess. You and Bucky never saw Steve was just his disease and lack of stature. Steve and you never just saw Bucky as his handsome face and face charm. And they never saw you as a lady, you were as much of a man as them.

The only time it ever became a challenge, your biology being different, was when you guys got intimate. But it was never made a huge problem. There were days when Steve couldn’t get it up because of his health, or where he could even participate because of his lungs. And there were days when you didn’t want to be touched because your body made you sick. You guys just found ways to make it work.

Sometimes you and Steve would just sit back on a chair each, one you’d dragged in from the kitchen, to watch Bucky pleasure himself and show off in bed. It was like your own litter theater, and Bucky really loved to be watched and praised by you two.

Sometimes it was Steve lying in bed carefully touching himself, at times it was just him caressing his own torso and telling you two all his wildest fantasies, his face and chest bright red from his flush.

And there were even times when it was you, when dysphoria wasn’t swallowing you whole and howling that your body was wrong. You never looked at yourself when you would be with them, but having two men with their own naked bodies made it harder to focus on your own.

Some days you would imagine that their body was yours, and the dysphoria wouldn’t be so bad. It also helped that Steve didn’t grow as much body hair as Buck, meaning Steve was almost as naturally hairy as you. Part of you just basked in the fact that one of your partners looked like you in that way.

The days you were fine with touch, Steve and Bucky never let it go to waste. You couldn’t fuck them like you three all wanted, they didn’t really have toys like that at the time, or at least accessible to you three. This just meant you guys had to get creative.

God gave humans hands and fingers for a reason, and you all had mouths. You always wore so many layers anyways, so the many hickeys your lovers left on you were easily hidden. The chest was always off the table though, and neither of the men complained.

Bucky was the best at praise, so naturally gifted that Steve would joke that he should become some pulp writer, that he should write those cheap sappy romance novels the ladies liked.

This didn’t mean that Steve wouldn’t praise you and Buck, he did, just in his own ways. The blonde always struggled with forming the right words and getting them out, but his sketchbook filled with pages and paged of you and Buck was all the praise you needed.

They would be good partners. Neither have a label for what you guys are, or what their sexualities are, they just know you three love each other, and that’s all that matters.

[ilyrafe]

after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.

yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.

after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.

the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.

i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.

for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.

for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.

liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.

all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.

i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.

it’s too soon.

call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.

for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.

edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.

[amomentsescape]

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

[everwalldigan]

My first somewhat controversial post but if you refer to Damian as “feral/rabid kitten” “stabby assassin child” or GOD FORBID you say that Jon TAMED HIM (I cannot even begin to describe how nasty that is.) your opinion on him is immediately invalid.

As an Arab who has been subjected to many microaggressions such as the ones above (eg: Arab people are uncivilised, uncultured and violent, dirty, animals), those kind of posts, even if they were meant in a lighthearted way are still really harmful. Just be mindful about how you talk about an Arab character who has been both subject to micro aggressions from other characters in universe and the victim of his identity being erased more and more with every new appearance.

Damian is not a fucking animal for the white angel Jon to “tame”. He is a child who has suffered immense amounts of trauma, negligence, physical and emotional abuse and is relearning how to interact with people, especially ones his age. Of course it helped that he had someone who understood his situation and with whom he could be himself with without compromising his identity. Jon was his friend but it was Damian who had the courage to put in the work to change his behaviour and rethink the ideals he’s been taught all his life. You could give him 100 Jon Kents but if he wasn’t brave enough to be willing to change, he wouldn’t have.

I also find it weird how people (and in fics) still insist on portraying Damian the way he behaved when he first left his abusive situation (the league of assassins) and are still acting like he’s the traumatised and violent child he used to be when now he is doing so much better and is acting more like people his age. Damian worked hard to be where he is today, he still has an immense amount of trauma because that just doesn’t go away no matter how loving his current environment is. He still struggles with morals and unlearning what has been hammered into him since he was a baby.

One more thing, if you portray Talia as a two dimensional abuser who doesn’t care about Damian (cough Tom king cough) then you’re doing both her and Damian a disservice because abuse is rarely a black and white thing and, especially with Talia, is incredibly complex. Talia has also suffered trauma and abuse her entire life. Her father literally runs a fucking cult. Talia is the victim of her generational curse, the cycle of violence that is now on Damian’s shoulders to stop.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I'm gonna be honest here: one of the more exhausting parts of the online discourse is how much of a tightrope I am always on, that those of us who care about human rights for all human beings are always on, because any statement made in favor of the "other" side is ripe for tokenism.

I, as a Jew, care about the safety and human rights of Palestinians and Arab Israelis. You will never convince me that there is an ethical way to kill civilians, especially children. You will never convince me that police brutality against citizens marching for their civil rights is necessary. You just can't. And yet I have to be so careful when/where I say that and how I say that, because too often this simple acknowledgement that all people are created in the image of Hashem and should be treated accordingly is ripped out of context and placed between a deluge of other posts denying my people that very same acknowledgement. The number of times I have said these things, only to go into the reblogs and see my words surrounded on all sides with violent antisemitism? I've lost count.

And guess what? It's made me less effective as an advocate, it has actively silenced me from speaking up sometimes, because I refuse to be your "good Jew," your token, somebody whose words can be misconstrued to kasher your vile hatred of my people. And to be very clear: Jewish Israelis are my people just as much as fellow diaspora yidden are, and they deserve better from both goyim and diaspora Jews alike.

And I've seen this go the other way, too: I've seen Palestinian activists and journalists who are trying very hard to balance the values of respecting other people (including Israelis and/or Jews writ large) as fellow human beings with the pain that their people are currently suffering. And I've seen their words ripped out of context and used to excuse more violence against them and their people.

And then there are lots of other people - genuinely well-intentioned people who are trying to learn from me - who keep treating me like I'm some paragon of nuance. I'm trying, truly, but I'm Just Some Guy. You know what I do? It's extremely simple and I promise you can do it too, any of you, if you slow down long enough to think before putting anything out there: "Would I say this about my brother? My mom? My daughter? My people? Would I be happy if the person I loved most on this earth was living under these circumstances and being talked about in whatever way I'm about to speak? Would it feel victim-blaming? Would it feel disrespectful of their struggle or dishonest? Does it ignore their history or trauma? Is it actually helping?" These are the types of questions I try very hard to ask myself every time I post about the conflict, about both sides. I try to talk about this as if the people on both sides were my family. Because truthfully? They are. Am Yisrael is a family, before anything else. Palestinians are our closest cousins. This war is a bloodbath and a tragedy, and everyone is suffering. For those of us who are not living there, please remember this and have some respect.

[mahoutoons]

i'm feeling controversial today so here's another hot take. and before you type away at your keyboards, know that this is all coming from a south asian.

white leftists have got to stop acting like christianity is the only religion that deserves to be criticized and you cannot touch any other religion because that'd be racist and bigoted. because as an indian who's watching my country progress towards hindu nationalism, this attitude doesn't help at all.

white people see hinduism as this exotic brown religion that's so much more progressive but don't know the violence of the caste system, how it others a large portion of the population on the basis of caste, literally branding them as "untouchables". they teach us in school that this problem is a thing of the past but the caste system is still alive and shows itself in violent ways. and that's not even covering how non hindus are treated in the country. muslims especially are being killed, have their houses bulldozed, businesses destroyed, and are being denied housing, our fucking prime minister called them infiltrators and there's this fear among hindu extremists that they'll outnumber the hindus in the country. portraying hinduism as this exotic religion does a disservice to all those oppressed by the hindutva ideology

similarly, white people see buddhism as this hippie religion that's all about peace but have no idea how extremist buddhists in myanmar have been persecuting the rohingya muslims for years and drive them out of the country.

if anything portraying these religions as exotic hippie brown religions is a type of orientalism itself.

and also y'all have got to realize that just because christianity has institutional power in america doesn't mean there aren't parts of the world where they are persecuted on the basis of religion. yes karen from florida who cries christophobia because she sees rainbow sprinkles on a cake is stupid but christian oppression DOES exist in non western countries where they're a minority. pakistani christians get lynched almost on a daily basis over blasphemy accusations. just look up the case of asia bibi, a pakistani christian woman who was sentenced to death on blasphemy charges because of something she said when she was being denied water because it was "forbidden" for a christian and a muslim to drink from the same utensil and she'd made it unclean just by touching it (which is ALSO rooted in casteism and part of pakistani christians' oppression also comes from the fact that a lot of them are dalit but that's a whole other discussion). and that's just one christian group, this isn't even going into what copts, assyrians, armenians etc have faced and continue to face. saying that christians everywhere are privileged because of american christianity actually harms christian minorites in non western countries.

and one last thing because this post is getting too long: someone being anti america doesn't automatically mean they're the good guys. too many times i've been seeing westerners on twitter dot com praise the fucking taliban just because they hate america. yes, the same taliban who banned education for women, thinks women should be imprisomed at home, and consistently oppresses religious and ethnic minorities in afghanistan. yes, america's war on afghanistan was bad and they SHOULD be called out for their war crimes there. no, the taliban are still not the good guys. BOTH of them are bad. you cannot pretend to care about muslims and brown people if you praise the taliban. because guess what? most of their victims are BROWN MUSLIM WOMEN. but of course white libs who praise them don't rub their two braincells together to make that conclusion.

this post has gotten too long and i've just been rambling so the point of this post is: white "leftists" whose politics are primarily america centric should stop acting like criticism of ideologies like hindutva, buddhist extremism, and islamic extremism BY people affected by these ideologies is the same as racism or religious intolerance because that helps literally no one except the extremist bigots. also america is not the centre of the world, just because something isn't happening in america doesn't mean it isn't happening elsewhere

[thoughtsfromb4]

The Demagogue

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free

So I can see all of their faces when I cast them back into the sea.

For I have no time to save them, nor be bothered by their fate;

As only I can save the nation from all the Dreamers at the gate.

First, though, I must deal with anyone who does not look or sound like me,

Especially all those sad, bad hombre types who would dare to take a knee.

I mean, they make tons of money right (though not nearly as much as me),

So why should they care if a few are victims of some police brutality?

It's not like they are suffering having all their history erased.

Not like those "fine folks" who’re having their monuments displaced.

Yet there's no need to fear, I know the monuments and parks to be removed,

And with the regulations gone, my new wells and mines can be approved.

And to those pathetic liars who say that this type of order is unfair,

Know that I am simply making room to bury you beside your Obamacare.

And once that’s done I can finally move on to updating our economy;

So that the full 99% are poor and all the rest are rich like me,

Because I know which type of people have suffered most of all — 

The bankers, brokers, and capitalists with their backs against the wall.

And so now you can see the "stable genius" of my “unpresidented” plan:

Stripping all the wealth and liberties from everybody that I can.

Because all the blood and treasure that we've paid for those liberties

Were really spent to secure the wealth of rich old guys like me.

--@thoughtsfromb4

[ririsasy]

This scene in May December broke me because how innocent and pure Joe is, how he knows that's something wrong with his life, he's trapped but couldn't get out and he didn't want anything that happened to him to ever happen to his son. It's heartbreaking to see how young he still is.

I want to give all the award for Charles Melton portrayal of Joe, especially in this scene, when he curled up in his son’s embrace like he’s the one who’s younger than his own son because in a sense he’s, mentally he’s, that tremble in his hands as he tried to explain his thoughts, thinking that he would do something wrong to his son, gosh he’s too young to be a father, and Charles Melton just completely nailed this role with his whole mannerisms, that small broken voice when he whispered “that’s all I do”. he's helpless, he's anxious all the time, but he bottled up inside because he has no chance to open up.

The way they portrayed Joe's naivety like he's still a young 13 y.o boy trapped in time because the manipulation worked with a vulnerable boy like he was. They showed his youthful spirit still with his hobbies with the butterflies, his timid movement or the way Gracie bossed him around and he didn't even realize it, that he couldn't even be open and honest with his feeling or be validated about what he's feeling because Gracie would just spin those words around and make it look like he's the one who hurt her, twisting his words to her advantage, the abuse never actually end, even after the 24 years of marriage.

Gracie is a predator, an unapologetic manipulative woman that thinks she does nothing wrong because deep down she's just evil that way, the scene in a forest when she met a fox and she look eye to eye with that predator, I feel like she was looking at herself. The way she’s interacting with her children from the previous marriage, how cold a mother she was, she didn’t care much about anyone feeling. Or the way even her children with Joe didn’t like her that much, because they’re old enough to understand that their parents relationship is not normal at all, but they just couldn’t say anything about it because at the end of the day she is still their mother.

Also it was incredibly eerie at the contrast love letter that young Joe sent to Gracie, where it was just so innocent, no ulterior motive or whatsoever, he was just a kid, feeling safe and at peace around adult and expressing it that way to her, it wasn't wrong at all, not a sign that an adult should make a move at that! Then compare to the one that Gracie wrote to him, she understood completely the situation they're in, the way she asked him in the letter not to tell anyone about it, she's always been on the upper hand, she took advantage of Joe's vulnerability and used it to her own sick desire. It wasn't told explicitly in the movie but seriously everything just feel so nauseating to watch thinking how young he was.

Now Joe is older and you know nobody can safe him except himself, If he wanted to be saved or not, or if he'd accepted his life just as it's, he's just a victim but he told himself that he didn't want people to look at him like one. It's all in the adult hands that should be the ones who do better because they know better and put a stop to something that's morally wrong, it's the adult responsibility to give the understanding, but the problem is Gracie is not a good person at all or a misunderstood individual or anything, she did everything with full conscience and with no regret because she’s sick in the head.

Also Natalie Portman’s character, Elizabeth, what’s up with her? I feel like her interest for the project itself was so questionable, she looks like a predator herself at the end, was she having an affair with the director that wanted to produce the movie? The phone call she had with the director asking him about his wife was kinda sus, when she was looking at the tape for young joe character and asking for a sexier looking actor, 13 y.o boy? What’s up with that?? And that euphoric masturbation?? complete with a laugh she did at the shop where Joe and Gracie supposedly had their first sexual encounter together, it’s all so weird and not to mention she end up sleeping with Joe as well! She was taking advantage of him nonetheless, I know that Joe is older now and should be able to make his own decision but considering that Elizabeth’s intention was never actually genuine and lure him in, flirting with him at his workplace, it’s manipulative as hell.

The way Elizabeth keep trying to mimic Gracie’s every movements, I know it’s for the role, but everything that she does also kinda eerie in notion. Perhaps she and gracie wasn’t that much different? She just didn’t act on it? Or is she such a psychopath in away she wanted to experience all kind of peculiar side of human? Where she's just so detached on human feeling and only sees everything just as story? That’s why she wanted to be an actress because that was her motivation? Is she a case of an actor that took method acting in extreme? To the point she lose the way to connect with story in away that still has humanity in it because this is real people lives she’s adapting and not a fantasy. I really couldn’t read her true motives at the end. Perhaps there were two predators in the movie?

Over all May December is a really thought provoking film, it’s a movie I’d recommend to anyone who just love a kind of movie that makes you think about it long after you watch it. Julian Moore, Natalie Portman and Charles Melton act so brilliantly in their respective roles. I feel like Charles Melton might get his first oscar nomination for supporting actor for this role because how good he was in this. 9/10.

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[signanothername]

Hey!! I first want to say I love your interpretation of Nightmare, and was wondering what your thoughts about his shape shifting ability is.

I've seen stuff where he turns into papyrus and torments his gang with it, so I was wondering if he has done something simlair with it in your version.

Thank youuuuu!!!!

AND IM SO DAMN HAPPY YOU ASKED ANON >:)

Nightmare’s shapshifting is honestly one of my fave things about him! Cause it’s a horrifying ability, especially when someone like Nightmare uses it

And my idea with his shapshfting can be summarized in here

My Nightmare can and will make exact replicas of people, but those replicas are going to have some very subtle hints that it is actually Nightmare shapshifted into another person, but if someone is not observant or isn’t really aware of Nightmare’s ability to shape shift? Then it is a very big problem

Those signs that tell you are both look and behavior wise

Nightmare doesn’t use it often surprisingly, but when he does one of the biggest tells look wise is the eyes! There will always be a faint cyan outer rings in the eye lights, and his right eye light will always be a tiny bit dimmer than the left

Shapeshifting takes energy and so Nightmare has to be careful not to get too excited or careless, a tiny mistake means the negativity overflows and his right eye starts leaking, at that point there is no true reason to keep up the act

However, there are still people that Nightmare can’t imitate fully, and so he doesn’t truly bother doing so, like Killer, Nightmare is able to look exactly like him, and unlike many, Killer has no eye lights and his eyes almost always leak anyway so even if Nightmare’s right eye starts leaking no one will be suspicious… except for one tiny yet crucial detail, and that is Killer’s soul, try as he might he can never imitate the nature of his soul, it’s too much trouble for Nightmare to bother

But as I mentioned before, if he imitates someone, look wise it’s extremely subtle and so it’s difficult to actually notice unless whoever is with him is observant

So the next big sign is behavior

Nightmare holds no illusion to shapshift into someone who he doesn’t know well enough to be able to replicate their behavior, with Nightmare facing zero difficulty imitating Dream, but find extreme difficulty imitating Ink for example, as he’s fully knowledgeable of how to act like his twin, but not knowledgeable enough of Ink to be able to Imitate him without problems

And despite Nightmare’s Knowledge, habits are hard to break as he needs to keep a conscious mind not to do something he would do rather than who he’s imitating, for example, Nightmare’s formal hands behind back when he’s imitating Dream, Dream never puts his hands behind his back the way Nightmare does, but sometimes Nightmare slips up and does it out of habit

So shapeshifting is a great tool for Nightmare but can be a hassle

Still, Nightmare loves to use it to infiltrate the confines of his enemies’ homes, or simply to be an asshole

Cause Nightmare sometimes loves to use his shapshifting ability in twisted ways to get as much negativity outta his victims as possible, so Nightmare would shapeshift to his passive child self in front of Dream for example, to destroy whatever resolve Dream has left, or yes even shapeshift to Papyrus but making himself look in bad shape to torment MTT and so on

Nightmare uses his shapshifting abilities in very twisted ways that can be terrifying and nothing/nobody can stop him, all they can do is sit there and be tormented or flee, some (MTT) not even having the privilege to flee

[ebonyslasher]

Them Thangs Thanging, Unfortunately

Basically, reader is a woman who has extremely large breast. Aka ME, this shit isn't for the weak. Just wanted to write about a few struggles we have. This doesn't even cover half of it.

Big Breast!Reader x Michael Myers, Daniel Lamb, Chromeskull, and Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

-----

Growing up was a struggle. 

That statement is true for many, especially during early teenhood. Middle schoolers were the most ruthless and awkward looking individuals to exist. However, there was an extra layer of struggle for the girls who had very progressive physical development(s). Specifically, those who developed their breasts early.

That was you. And unfortunately, your breast kept growing and growing. Even through early adulthood, with your weight fluctuating, your breast kept growing. They were always big, mind you. But now, as an adult, they were humongous. And what other people called a blessing, you just called a problem. Many problems at that included: 

Price

Bra’s, already, were expensive. For one piece of specialized cloth was $30 to $40. Add onto the fact that you had big breast? Oh, now the price wanted to double. Good luck if you were so big that you had to order custom. Prepare for your soul and wallet to be hurt. Custom bras can set someone back at least $100 easy!

With Michael, it was an odd situation. He would hear you complain about the price, but never understood why. He could just steal them for you, either from the store or from a victim. You, of course, didn’t want a bra from some random, especially with blood on it. EW. His plan could work if he would remembered your size...and if they even had it in store. 

Well, price wasn’t an issue with Chromeskull! He already treated you like a queen. If you wanted, he would have someone find bras for you. That way, you don’t even need the stress of looking. You find the bras lined up on a table every few months for you to pick from. What a life!

Daniel listened to your problems and saw firsthand how much they could get up to. Eyebrows shot up at the $79 bra that sat on your screen. After his missions, he would steal money or cards off corpses to give to you. You’d find a pile laying on your desk when he couldn’t stay, with a note saying ‘For your bra troubles!’ He was so sweet.

Ghostface didn’t care. He didn’t have to pay for the bras, so not his problem! He barely listens, pretending to only see any bras you might get next. Pervert. He wouldn't mind you getting a smaller bra, trying to imagine you as those anime girls wearing the smallest bikinis. 

“So you want me to look like I'm from One Piece??! Natural breasts in real life don’t work like that dummy!”

Size availability

Speaking of One Piece, it felt like you had to travel through the seven seas just to find bras in your size. Trying to find cute ones? You’re asking for the impossible. Most stores didn’t have your size. Forget about places like Victoria's Secret and especially Aerie. Lane Bryant may have your size, unless your band size is small. So, that means you have to order your bras online. Sucks, since you couldn’t try them on before buying. 

Michael stood in the store, comically looming behind you, surrounded by multicolored bras. He noticed that your posture fell as you spoke with a store worker. “Unfortunately, we don’t carry those sizes in store. We have them online and you could get it shipped here.” No thanks. It’d just be better to get something shipped to your house. You sighed in disappointment. Michael squints his eyes at the worker. Maybe he could come back and look to see what they really have in the back…

Availability was no longer a problem thanks to Jesse. Your masked sweetheart hired a personal designer that would make bras tailored to you. And you can tell them just how cute you’d like the bra to be.

A comforting hand lands on your shoulder as you relay the issue of finding your cup and band size in store. Daniel listens on as you rant, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Of course, I’d be the one with a small band size and huge ass breast!”  While you talk, he peruses the internet for different online stores that may have your size. You two curate a list of some, avidly reading any reviews that pop up.

“Oh well, hey, maybe this gives you the excuse to not wear bras anymore. Heh, I definitely won’t mind the view,” Danny joked after you told him the news. You roll your eyes and tell him to shut up. He really doesn’t care about your dilemma, pushing you to go braless, so he could see those juicy tatas bouncing. Although, if you get on him enough and promise him something nice, maybe he could magically get you some bras.

Clothing restrictions

There were certain articles of clothing that you couldn’t wear. Sad, since there were some cute looks that you just couldn’t do logistically. Bralettes and button down shirts were the devil. You saw the bralettes trending and said, “Nope. No way I could do that”. Button down shirts were deceptive. It would work up until the point the button around your breast would pop open. Understandable, since the small button couldn’t handle the pressure of holding back such big bouncing melons. You tried again one day, hoping that the designs became better throughout the years. As you walked around, the buttons popped open. The image of soft brown breast were revealed to the world in…

Michael’s steel blues, which immediately pinpoint the wardrobe malfunction. His head slowly tilts. Michael stoically ogles, secretly licking his lips as he enjoys the view. He notices your embarrassment and frustration. He feels a little bad, but that was overshadowed by the deliciousness of your reaction. He loves seeing you get worked up. He wouldn’t mind watching you bouncing around to throw a tantrum.

Jesse’s eyeless mask gleams. He raises his eyebrows at the incident. You try to button your shirt back up. The button only stays a moment before it gives up, bouncing off the shirt for the sweet release of death. The button clinks against the marble floor. You look down in disbelief as Jesse’s shoulders shake in glee. This was the funniest thing he’s seen all week!

Daniel’s zenith blue eyes pop wide open, mimicking the poor button that flew off. His face was a light shade of pink as he observed the scene. “Oh Shit…,” he whispers. Trying not to stare at your obvious malfunction, he peers up at your face that looks beautifully frustrated at the button on the ground. His eyes were full of empathy as walks over. “How about we try another shirt, huh?,” Daniel asks as he chuckles lightly.

“Hallelujah!” Ghostface shouts as he zeros in on this fantastic view. His perverted chocolate eyes were glued to your happy accident. You scoff and cover the malfunction with your hands. The view of that amazing bosom was now obscured, which angered Ghostface. He marches over right as he says, “Hey! Don’t cover those. Ghosty wants to see!”

Back pain

These breasts weighed heavy as gravity worked against your favor. Lugging around these gigantic bust meant the pull and strain against your back muscles. Those back muscles were only so strong, which would get weaker as you got older. The random aches in the upper, middle, and lower part of your back plagued your existence. You tried your best to keep good posture, but it was tiring.

Michael will rub your back if you ask. Well, only if he gets something in exchange. Dessert, you bent over, a good meal, or a new knife. You choose and it better be the right choice depending on his mood. Be warned that Michael is heavy handed as hell. His digs feel like he’s punching through your body. It might be a while before his massages become beneficial.

Jesse will hire a professional masseuse when he's on a spree. However, he would never turn down the opportunity to knead your supple muscles. You don’t mind if he goes a little lower, right Princess? He’ll also treat you with a doctor to get some treatment options going. 

Skilled and dangerous hands rub your back, the heavenly sensation of warm oil glides with every movement. Daniel, the sweet man that he is, gladly volunteers to bring you temporary relief. If he’s unable to caress your lovely form, he leaves you some pain medicine and healing meds that he comes across. The healing meds were heavenly. He, later, suggests having a reduction so you won’t have to suffer anymore.

Danny will massage you only because he wants his hands on that perfect body. And lowkey wants you to stop complaining all the time. God, it was annoying. He frequently offers to hold your breast up as you walk around. “I’ll even hold them up out in public. Just think, you’ll have your own boobie holder everywhere you go.” That shit eating grin on his handsome face didn’t faze you. Your face scrunches at his perverted comment. You take him up on the offer…only at home. You wouldn’t admit that it was a big help for your posture. You didn’t need to, Danny could tell how much it was helping by your relieved expression.

[furiousgoldfish]

When people hear stories about abuse, they often get fascinated and interested in the abuser, and the 'mystery' behind their behaviour. They'll want to analyze what happened to this person to make them act in such twisted and sadistic ways, and they want to find the past event or past abuse that would 'explain it all'. Abusers will also, very happily recount the past abuse whenever it's time to explain away their behaviour, so nobody could hold them accountable, because after all, they had had it rough! Of course they're now abusive, it's only natural.

Fascination with explaining away abuser's behaviour often leaves victim's situation forgotten and ignored. Victims are supposed to just 'get over it', not be so sensitive, and be careful to not turn into abusers themselves, because after all, being abused means you become an abuser, according to the abuser. Except it doesn't, and victims often don't end up abusing anyone else, especially not in the horrific ways they themselves have been abused. So we're having two opposing stories: one is told by the abuser, and it's easy, simple, explains everything away, and it says, abuse causes future abusers, I am the proof, I was abused and now I am like this. Victim's story goes: I was abused, and now I struggle to function, I have cptsd, I have flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety, eating disorder. I struggle with suicidal feelings and wishing I didn't exist. I feel like I'm not important at all in this world and like I have no community, no family, no home. Failure of everyone to help me while I was being abused caused me to feel like an outcast from society, someone who isn't a part of it, who doesn't matter. I would never do this to another person, I feel like a part of me was torn away into pieces and I struggle to put myself back together.

Now that story is complex, it implicates the society in failing to stop the abuse and making the victim's life worse, it showcases the actual consequences of abuse, which are not 'becoming evil', but feeling ultimately traumatized and damaged, struggling to find joy and happiness in life in the aftermath. Society doesn't want to hear that; it makes abuse into a problem that should collectively be dealt with, rather than pushing it all onto individuals who find themselves trapped in it and suffering. It's much easier to pretend that abuse just makes someone abusive, and for people who are abusive, we need to feel sorry for, because they were 'made to be like this', and for those abused, we just need to shame them and control them so they don't become abusive themselves.

There are abusers who have lived privileged lives, there are abusers who have been spoiled and rewarded for their acts of abuse. Most abusers don't show the symptoms of trauma nearly as bad as the victims of abuse do, they're most often just having the symptoms of 'I lash out my anger on those who cannot defend themselves' and 'everyone needs to feel sorry for me because I am having the roughest time on the planet'. Weird how the victims almost never develop these two symptoms! Victims will go and compare their situation to everyone who has it worse, and will struggle to express or direct anger at anything. 

So what is the actual source of abuse, if not past trauma? There's no study or statistics that can tell us that for sure, and abusers are careful to maintain their story and are not interested in being studied past what makes people feel bad for them. I would guess that it's a mix of entitlement, being in a position of power over someone vulnerable, never having to develop empathy or compassion, being rewarded continuously for acts of abuse, and social influence (admiring other abusers and wanting the power they have). A lot of social structures support and enable abuse of those who are at the very bottom of it, with very few protections against it. A lot of people believe it's their right to abuse someone if they have the power over that person, and gain power specifically for that cause. Abusers will have children and believe this is their property and they can do whatever they please with it, abuse being a part of it.

If we don't know where abuse comes from, how do we combat it? I don't believe in feeling sorry for the abusers or giving them endless attention, chances, excuses and rationalizations; instead I believe we should stand firm on the fact that abuse is inexcusable, and will have consequences, regardless of how it came into their behaviour. If abuse always had consequences, regardless of the history of the abuser, they would know they can't get away with it, that they can't later make everyone feel sorry for them and go on with their sob stories. Abuse would get them punished, not sympathized with.

I also believe the abuser's point of view should be decentralized; it should be victims who get to speak. It's easy for the abuser to show themselves in the positive light, minimizing the abuse, insisting the victim provoked or wanted it, that it wasn't that bad and it was done with 'best intentions'. But if we listened to victims, we would quickly understand that anyone who can do this to another person is monstrous, and should not be extended any sympathy. Abusers don't extend their sympathy to the victims when they abuse, so why should they expect to get it? Society should take abuse more seriously and put defenses into place, so abusers are not as easily able to put it behind closed doors. Resources for recognizing abuse, especially child abuse and intimate abuse, should be taught, spread and shared in society, so nobody would be able to convince another that suffering abuse is normal, or justified.

One of the biggest barriers to escaping abuse is victim confessing what's been happening to a trusted family member or a friend, and then this family member or a friend shaming and blaming them for it, instead of offering help and protection. It takes a lot of courage to even say something out loud, knowing the abuser would punish them for it, and then to be punished externally for speaking out, it's devastating. If abuse was taken seriously, and victims understood to be fault-free, but singled out, isolated and hurt in a way that nobody should be, and it was understood it's a societal responsibility to protect them against this, it would be easier to speak out, and get support. It often takes a society to help someone get free, because abusers are hell-bent on abusing once they start to, the victims need multiple barriers before abusers could get anywhere near them.

And why shouldn't we want that? If we know there are people in society such as children, young people, people without regular income, poor people, disabled people, compassionate people, marginalized people, people who struggle to recognize and flag down predators, shouldn't we want to make sure they're protected? That nothing bad happens to them, and they're free to live their lives safe from those who would do them continuous harm and make them want to die? We want our young, old, kind, vulnerable, sensitive, disabled, poor, compassionate and marginalized people safe and happy. There's no reason to throw them under the bus and leave them to suffer abuse.

[verdantwyrm]

hello, i saw your post about how people should not censor out or analyse Jimmy for the fear that it’d look like excusing his actions, and honestly i agree. Particularly, what you said stood out to me, I think I will remember it from here on:

“Trying to constantly make out the fact that rapists are faceless monsters that have never been people completely ignores the fact that most of them are people we know and people we care about.”

ngl does kinda make me teary, very based take I haven’t seen anyone make yet. I’m a CSA and incest survivor, it’s easy to say rapists are horrible people and should die, but it’s more complex than that, especially if you grew up with them and care about them.

I wanted to share that post so bad, but I’m a coward reblogging hot takes in this fandom. Just know I screenshotted that post for personal keepings because it was so based.

There’s also one interpretation of Anya that I haven’t seen yet: the non-angry. It is understandable that people may feel empowerment drawing Anya killing Jimmy. My interpretation of her (because I’m projecting hard lmao), she may not be angry or killing Jimmy in her mind. “I don’t want revenge, I just want peace” type of thing. My version of Anya is just someone who doesn’t seek revenge towards Jimmy or berating Curly for not doing her justice; just someone who wants safety, a peace of mind. It’s kinda weird when I see art of Anya lowkey guiltripping a post-crash Curly, it just feels off. Anya doesn’t seem the kind to be vengeful anyway.

Sometimes I think something’s wrong with me for not feeling angry at my abusers just as others seem to be, but I remind myself that responses to trauma can be varying. Nothing’s wrong with the revenge interpretations, more power to those who feel empowered by it, but I would like to see the non-angry interpretation someday, especially on a soft-hearted character like Anya.

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for your question! And more importantly, from one survivor to another, I know more than most about how it feels to have someone you trusted or someone you were supposed to trust have them go and do something as awful as rape or assault, and it's true because that happens a lot. It's a part of grooming victims, so constantly trying to make out these people as faceless monsters who emerge to only do bad is detrimental to the fact that they can, will be and are the people you hold closest sometimes.

And I'm honestly just as teary-eyed thinking about how that resonates with people because it's a very uncomfortable truth that not a lot of people want to reckon with or even understand and completely ignore. I was much like you when it came to opinions like this, "fandom discourse" as people may say, and I was terrified of reblogging it or even making a suggestion towards it in fear of it being a bad take or one that doesn't even make sense, but after years of writing and reading, it's helped me a ton to grasp themes, nuance, metaphors- the like. That's why I post my own analysis: because I know and understand how much it means to have someone speak on such an overlooked thing. When you don't have someone doing that, or anyone to even bounce your ideas off of, you start to feel like you're stretching it or simply going mad.

I actually really, really dislike the interpretation that Anya is angry, resentful or has any revenge towards Curly, or that she has to be this, hysterical mad woman sent out to kill or hurt Jimmy. I don't believe she's either of this. Anya deserves peace, and I think it's extremely important to understand just how similar she is to Curly.

They're both victims to the same man, they both believe in the best of people (although to their own detriment in a way) they want to find peace, and fulfilment in their career and life. They're so alike in such delicate and intimate ways, that trying to constantly paint Curly as this great, horrible oppressor over her does way more harm than good.

I've mentioned in a couple of posts now that Curly's good heart and his kindness aren't inherently a bad thing, and that's because it isn't a bad thing. It was because Jimmy was so ready to abuse him every time he showed "weakness" and the fact that Pony Express probably had already been exploiting it for a very long time, that made It as catastrophic as it was. And that's not his fault, that's not Anya's either.

Curly’s biggest weakness is his forgiving nature. We all talk about how Anya is a victim of Jimmy, and she absolutely is, but so is Curly. His first immediate response Jimmy's reaction to Anya announcing her pregnancy is met with immense fear and anxiety with the added soundtrack of what could be equivalent to the sound of Curly's heart racing.

He is beyond terrified, and when he does finally get to Jimmy, he immediately fawns and freezes. He makes absolutely no mention of Anya or anyone else because all that mattered in that panicked situation was easing Jimmy down and resolving the situation. Curly was and has been a victim of Jimmy's abuse for a very long time on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario which devolved into physical abuse very quickly once Jimmy got his chance. It is also true that Curly had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain but he failed due to bias towards his abusers, and his kind and forgiving nature of simply wanting to see the good in Jimmy, which is a manifest of his trauma and being a victim, also definitely something that Jimmy himself has instilled into Curly.

And like you say, it is perfectly fine to interpret her this way, but it feels very... out of character. This is the same character that so reverently believes that our worst moments don't make us monsters, and I don't think it's insane to apply this sentiment to Curly too, because his worst moment was simply being too forgiving to someone who deserved it the least- which is its own trauma response.

Again, so sorry for the long response, I've been sitting on this ask for a while simply because I wanted to answer the best I could, and I have a lot of feelings about Curly and Anya and how they're reflections of each other in being victims. Thank you so much for sending in an ask! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

[saturnrevolution]

Jupiter through houses

Jupiter in the 1st house

You are a curious person, always looking for the next activity that will help expand your identity. The negative manifestation of your Jupiter sign is a tendency to focus a lot on other people’s perception of you and allow opinions to say who you are. When you are in your power, you don’t express yourself by societal definitions, but create new ways from within. You are also vouching for justice and you take life as an adventure. Most blessings come to you when you are willing to learn, when you are open to knowledge, you travel and explore through experimenting. You create your own luck by shining bright.

Jupiter in the 2nd house

When it comes to receiving from the Universe, you have this ability to allow abundance, especially material and financial, to come to you. You do this best when you are letting things unfold, when you are living in the present moment and have a positive outlook on life. It’s important to follow your values and philosophies. Financial gain can come to you fast, but you can also spend it just as fast. So, it’s important to be disciplined in your ways, while still allowing yourself the freedom to do whatever you want. Invest in things that help you grow and build your independence, as later on you might be a strong pillar for others.

Jupiter in the 3rd house

Your words matter, sharing your wisdom with the world is part of what brings you luck and abundance. There needs to be a fair balance between what it is you speak up on and how much you hold in. You can find wealth in your hometown or home country. Short distance travels help you refresh your mind and put you in a good mood. You could become a teacher or coach, however you need your words to be heard. You have the ability to manifest through your thinking, so know that negative thoughts will expand in more negative thoughts. Write them down and let them go, then focus on the things you are grateful for to succeed.

Jupiter in the 4th house

Your luck comes from your ancestors. Your lineage is protecting you and wants you to succeed. Whenever you spend time connecting to your roots, your culture or living place, you discover new sides of yourself. Speaking on your goals with family and loved ones helps you manifest them. You might sometimes get stuck in a victim-like mentality, so make sure you are surrounded by people that support you. Having a home that makes you feel inspired is crucial, decorate it in a way that helps you shine. Spending time in your own comfort is restoring, but taking risks is too. You might move abroad or live abroad one day.

Jupiter in the 5th house

Whenever you nurture your inner child, you are on the path to success. You are someone that enjoys the little things in life, that wants adventure and passion. You are creative and talented, and your expression speaks louder than words. However, sometimes you might take your talents for granted and not nourish them enough. While it’s amazing to have fun, discipline would be a game-changer for you. You sometimes find abundance through romance, but do not give your power away by not setting boundaries. Value yourself. Take yourself on dates, do those things you loved as a child, your passions and dreams will unfold.

Jupiter in the 6th house

There is nothing more healing for you than living with intention. Caring for your body and health, offering yourself what you need is putting you on the right path. However, overindulging or over-worrying or stress puts you off your path. This is why, the best approach is to create a routine that you truly resonate with. Find the things that work for you on a daily basis, listen to what your body needs, and find ways to make every activity feel like it was made for you. You like music? Listen to it while you cook, offer love to little things, and you will gain it back. Your ability to get disciplined will offer you success.

Jupiter in the 7th house

Why is it that others are able to see your warmth, but for you, it’s much harder? Whenever you connect to others, you spend time with people that make you smile and feel empowered, you thrive and attract abundance. Abundance can come in the form of people too, collaborations, projects that just take off. However, if you spend your energy on people that drain you or make you doubt, you will attract more lessons. Your knowledge is contagious, accept the side of you which thrives and allow positivity to come in. This way, you will live the life you have always imagined and attract love from in and out.

Jupiter in the 8th house

Some people are scared to dive deep. But not you. Your inner world is one of the most valuable tools you have. If you focus on your negative feelings towards a situation, those feelings will grow. However, if you focus on what makes you feel good, what offers your life meaning and purpose, you will attract blessings. You have the ability to shine alight on what seems dark, you have the ability to trigger people in realizing what they need. Whenever you research into the occult, taboo subjects, or you bring up difficult subjects, you are able to make others feel seen. Just open up more, people are waiting for your ideas.

Jupiter in the 9th house

You are a teacher and a student of life. You are someone who is able to create wonderful stories through living their life and then share their knowledge in concepts that inspire others. You are able to change paradigms if you allow yourself to truly believe in your philosophies. However, you need to also open yourself up to other people’s ideas as a way of relating to people. You attract blessings through studying, travel or reading. While your experiences are important, be careful not to get so lost in this search for meaning that you neglect those that want to be a part of your success. Stop and look back at times.

Jupiter in the 10th house

You career is where you are lucky and will receive blessings in this lifetime. You have the ability to reach your goals, as many opportunities are aligning for you. However, it’s yup to you to decide which ones are here to help you grow and which ones are selling a false promise. You could be a leader or thrive in a management position. The best way to reach your success is by not getting carried away with work so much that you forget to play. It’s in those moments of rest and contemplation when inspiration comes to you, and when you offer yourself the space to push forward. Dream big, rest bigger.

Jupiter in the 11th house

You are blessed in this lifetime with many life-changing connections. You have the ability to create friends wherever you go and to seek their support whenever you are in need. However, be careful with setting boundaries. When you feel you are tired or you simply want to be alone, allow yourself that space. Blessings come to you when you spend time in communities of people that share the same interests as you. You could easily become influential online by speaking on your beliefs. Allow growth to happen by trusting your authentic self and showing up as it in front of others. You could also become an activist.

Jupiter in the 12th house

Your inner wisdom is the most subtle thing about you, but also the most valuable. Whenever you take decisions based on your intuition is when you thrive. You have the ability to evolve spiritually, if you just allow yourself to face your shadows. Sometimes it might feel as though it’s harder to tap into your luck, but the truth is that the power lies in your hands. Daydreaming can be a great tool of manifesting, although sometimes you might forget to take care of your body. Find a balance between the ethereal and the physical world and you will thrive. Meditating and breathing techniques are your best friends.

[arcanarix]

Beneath You - Geto Suguru X Fem!Reader

CW // manipulation, coercion, geto is a pining mess, reader's not a jujutsu sorcerer, cunnilingus, face sitting, body worship, geto is a walking red flag but the reader has no idea for a long time, geto's got a big dick, lactation kink, reader is inexperienced

Word Count: ~10K

Summary: There’s a twist of disgust inside of him as he to compare himself to a human, but he doesn’t consider you so low. Not at all. Far from it. If anything, he may go as far as to declare with full conviction that he’s the one beneath you. Yet here you are, blessing him with that ‘common decency’ he doesn’t deserve, even still. Because that’s the kind of person you are. People like you are rare finds, and he is sworn to protect rare breeds of human like you who belong to his new world order.

AO3

Another mission takes Geto to a remote village where grade 1 curses have wreaked havoc amongst its residents. He doesn’t intend to stay for long—grade 1s are not too much of an issue for someone like him—but upon arriving, he’s stunned to already see some locals hard at work given what little tools they have to survive. While true, the existence of curses isn’t completely a secret to the general public, he’s still shocked to find a select few of these villagers have begun to fight back.

Those non-sorcerers are not as primitive as he has been led to believe…

One particular villager leaves an impression on him. You are that villager. You’re not even a sorcerer, yet you attend to those afflicted or attacked by curses at a moment’s notice.

You’re the first person he meets, on the train ride there. He’s glancing at his ticket lost in thought over everything that’s transpired since the incident with Riko, and notices you peering at the thin slip of paper, before you lock gazes with his.

“What’re you going to my next stop for?” you inquire with a smile. “It’s probably not a good idea right now. There’s been reports of mass murders by an unknown cause and I’ve been called to treat any surviving victims.”

Geto hums, a flash of irritation in his eyes because he’s not one for small talk—especially given what he’s witnessed in the past few months.

“I’m there to stop the problem myself,” he responds, his tone a bit short but you don’t seem bothered by it. “Worry not, I’m sure it’ll be over after I take care of everything.”

“Wow, you sure got it all figured out, eh?” you remark, tone laden with curiosity for him, your grin widening. Geto stares at you for a moment. Why do you remind him of someone…? “That’s good to know. It’s nice that there’s still people like that out there. I’m glad you’re here to help out that village. We can always use true heroes like you.”

Geto perks an eyebrow at that last statement, averting his gaze to the nearly empty train. The train is about to slow, meaning they are close to their stop.

 “…You call me a hero and yet you’ve just met me,” he murmurs, more to himself.

Ah. He’s beginning to see who you remind him of now.

“Aw, well, let’s just say I have a knack for understanding someone’s real character,” you answer with a wink. “Since we’re going to be working together for a while, what’s your name?”

“Suguru Geto,” he answers, a bit too quickly for his own liking. Why’s that? Why is he suddenly so intrigued by you…? Why can’t he just ignore this sort of thing like he always does? He does sense something a bit unique about you, though. Perhaps it’s to sate his curiosity. Nothing more. He can forget about this mission and you by extension when this is over.

“Nice to meet you,” and you respond with your name. It rolls off his tongue nicely when he addresses it, and when you giggle, it’s the most pleasant of sounds to him. Unlike with most humans, who sound discordant and annoying, yours is light, beautiful, ringing like cathedral bells…

…Why is he pulling the cart before the horse here?

The train slows even more. Then comes to a complete stop. You both leave the train side by side, but you appear to be in a rush. He doesn’t mind. He’s probably going to run into again sooner than he wants to…

…And lo and behold, he’s correct to make that assumption as by the next morning, he’s found you at the front lines, securing any remaining victims and keeping them secured in a safe house protected by a veil a weaker sorcerer from the village has managed to cast themselves with the aide of a cursed scroll. That’s what you explain to him. So now he discovers you’re aware of sorcerers and what people like him do. He finds himself impressed by the effort from these villagers—they do seem to be a little more progressive here—but he learns that he’s called to this village because there are no sorcerers here who can compete with grade 1 curses. All of those who have tried, have died in combat, as you explain to him between treating victims.

And these villagers…don’t look opposed to the existence of sorcerers or curses. Or at least, it doesn’t seem so. Not necessarily. They don’t appear alarmed by them…as if this is a normal occurrence.

So much unlike the ones he’s encountered in the past.

He observes you like a deer caught in headlights, dumbfounded, as he scans rows upon rows of wounded villagers on the floor. Some are unconscious, some are barely breathing. Some are cut up terribly, blood seeping through their bandages. The stench of bitter metal, vomit, and shit hits his nose and his lips curl as he grimaces; it’s so foul he can’t breathe, fearing he may vomit himself…

And yet her you are, undeterred by the horrors which have befallen this village, the only one saving them all. As if they’re worth something more than a scrape of metal or a speck of dirt.

It’s awe-inspiring…yet confounding all the same.

He almost wants to scoff at how futile your efforts are, to save such scummy people who may sooner feed you to the wolves than thank you, but he finds himself drawn to how focused you are on healing them. You have no reverse cursed technique, only relying on traditional medications and the few incantations the living weaker sorcerers have learned. Humans, in general, can’t use reverse cursed techniques, so there’s no other option for them. This all likely won’t be enough, he figures, and it’s not like he can contact Shoko because she’s not meant to be fighting.

But maybe he doesn’t need to call Shoko because you’re already making a huge difference by actively trying to make changes. That’s so much unlike the behavior he’s seen in humans before.

What a conundrum he’s faced with now… he must accept that his own feelings aren’t all that pure. His morals aren’t as unshakable as he once believed.

He’s so trapped in his own inner conflicts that he doesn’t realize you approach him to dispose of the blood and vomit soiled gloves protecting your hands and retrieving new ones after disinfecting your hands. While you adjust them, he catches your eye.

“Geto, can we rely on you to exorcise those damned curse spirits? We can’t afford anymore casualties. The population of this village is already next to null, and we’re going to lose all of our villagers at this rate. It’s good you came to help us when you did.”

He nods, expression grim as he makes his way to the exit of the safe house, but not before turning back to announce: “I’ll make sure the barrier technique remains intact as well. You’ll be safe in here.”

“Thank you, Geto—you really are a hero,” you praise him before you run to your nearest victim who’s moaning in agony from a broken arm and a leg that’s been sliced cleanly off. He watches you, immobilized by how intrigued he is of you and the few residents in this village before he takes action to completely eradicate the cause.

The curse spirits are more than even he bargains for, but he manages to eradicate a few that night. Preventing further casualties or more injured villagers.

When he returns, some victims have been nursed back to adequate health in a rapid amount of time. He’s impressed by your efforts. Just watching you as you give them their herbal treatments and clean up their wounds. He does get injured a few times himself while he’s out there exorcising the spirits, and as you stop once you completed cleaning up another victim’s wounds, you signal him to come over.

“Let’s take care of you, Geto. You’re a godsend,” you praise him yet again with so much genuineness and a strong hint of reverence, that your words catch Geto a bit off-guard. He’s staring again, immobilized for a few moments once more before he ambles to your side and settles in the cushion before you. You pick up a fresh damp cloth with some medication to help disinfect the wounds. His body is scratched, slice and diced, and bruised all over, and you shake your head at the condition of his body. Nothing you haven’t seen before, at least he thinks, and yet…

“This might sting,” you warn him while he removes his top, and as you rest the damp cloth on a particularly large gash on his shoulder, he flinches and grunts out loud. “Man, you sorcerers…you really are full of heart. All of you. Sticking your neck outs for people like us who can’t do much for ourselves due to our lack of cursed energy. Many of these villagers can’t even perceive what attacked them.”

Geto hums absently. “It’s no glamorous lifestyle—that much I can assure you.”

You let out a dry laugh at that, while apologizing to him under your breath when you go over some tender parts of his skin from his many wounds and gashes.

“I’m a medicine woman, a healer, yet I’m sure I haven’t seen stuff more gruesome than you must’ve,” you comment, working to stitch the gash up after you clean and disinfect the area. He probably doesn’t know that you’ve noticed how frail he looks, like he’s neglected his own health in favor of his role as a sorcerer.

He manages a wry grin at that. “You have no idea.”

He freezes when he realizes how close your face is to his, and his cheeks burn as he flits his gaze elsewhere, to the door, to the sealed windows, to the moaning and groaning victims. Anything to avoid getting lost in those eyes that are so full of kindness that he doesn’t deserve, not with the sort of thoughts that have plagued his mind for months now since Riko’s death.

Once you’re done stitching up that large gash, you move to clean up the smaller cuts and bruises around his body. You sponge him gently with a fresh cloth, and he’s caught in another daze again as he observes you.

“You’re not scared of me,” he realizes out loud. “Or the curses.”

“Of course not,” you almost snicker at the absurdity of his statement, which has him furrow his brows at your behavior. Are you not aware of how rare sorcerers are in this world? “We have had a few sorcerers in this village who have since perished when these attacks began, protecting villagers who don’t understand what attacked them in the first place. I’ve had sorcerers in my family, but they’re all gone, fighting these curses that are too powerful for them.”

Ah. So she’s got a fair idea of the world for sorcerers, then.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, tone solemn. He knows too well losing those close to him to things like this. You manage a smile.

“We all have to go one day,” you reply with a deep sigh, moving to sponge his lower back. “I just wish I had more time with them. We’ll be together in the next life.”

“You believe in the afterlife?” he mutters, as you move to continue to clean the dirt and grime off of him.

“We have to believe in something to keep going,” you counter with a curt nod. “And for me, it’s to be with my family again. That’s enough for me.”

“I see,” he states. Once you’re done patching him up, you pat his unwounded shoulder.

“There you go! All fixed up…mostly.” You throw him a thumbs up while using a fresh cloth to wipe your neck glistening with sweat down. “You have to give your shoulder some time to heal, obviously.”

“We have a doctor back at the organization I work for who can help me with that,” he replies with a smile. “Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated.”

“I like to think of it as common decency!” you retort under your breath with a playful wink. “Just doing what’s right.”

“Most people don’t think that way,” he points out, and his eyes catch you rubbing your arms and shivering a bit. It is a bit chilly tonight, he remembers, and the thermostat in this safe house doesn’t work.

Quirking an eyebrow, he picks up a nearby blanket in a basket by your tool kit that appears freshly washed, wrapping it around you in a gentle motion. He catches himself in the act, warring with himself over why he’s suddenly concerned for you. He usually does not allow himself to get too close anymore—especially after Riko.

“You should rest. The barrier won’t break, so nothing will get to you and the other villagers, for now. Don’t you have others working with you?”

“Thank you, Geto. You’ve got an eye for practicality,” you reply with a winning grin in spite of how exhausted you appear to him. His brows furrow—why do you risk your life for these people who don’t matter? “But unfortunately, no. This is my post—there’s only one person and they’re out of commission themselves.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” He doesn’t understand why he’s asking, but given there are more curses that aren’t showing themselves at the moment that he still has yet to exorcise…he’s going to be here with you for longer than he initially expected.

“Well, uh, I guess you could, with giving them their nightly medicine,” you murmur through a yawn. Geto looks at you with concern etched across his face, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Rest,” he insists, frowning. “I can keep watch, and I can give the medicine. It’s this one, right?”

He gestures to the vials by your feet in a basket.

“Yeah,” you answer through another yawn, covering your mouth. “They need to be given the entire vial…taken orally, obviously, and the taste isn’t great so…give them some water if they ask for it. If they’re strong enough to ask for it. Let me watch you take care of one villager before I really pass out.”

“Sure,” he replies, and he does as you instruct him. Feeding a villager the entire vial and offering water, which the villager thanks him for profusely before desperately gulping it down to wash away the taste. As he turns around to seek your approval, you flash him a quick, tired grin before you settle into your chair and attempt to rest.

He’s never seen anyone like you…and all he can do is try his best to return your efforts.

The next morning, he’s waiting for you when you wake up. You complain of a dull throbbing in your head, clutching the side of it as you reorient yourself.

“The rest of the curse spirits have been exorcised,” he explains to you. Before you open your mouth to speak, he continues to clarify for you: “You were knocked out cold for a while. You’ve been neglecting yourself to help the villagers. Everyone is safe now. The problem is gone. My work here is finished, but I wish to stay to help you nurse the villagers back to perfect health.”

It’s against his character, and frankly, he still doesn’t understand why he’s offering to help out when he does have the freedom to return to Jujutsu Tech.

Something about you compels him to stay. His lips press into a grim line as he wars himself over his own aged inner conflict.

Why help those pathetic monkeys who can’t even fend for themselves?

It’s because of you, and he loathes this fact. He loathes that you stain him with your futile ideals. How you can still see humanity as worth protecting when they have taken your sorcerer family members away.

Everything about you—everything about you shatters his conviction about non-sorcerers. This whole conundrum…perhaps he must accept that there shall always be a gray area no matter how much he wishes to adhere to the belief that people like you are the reason he suffers, are the reason his comrades die.

But now he’s come to view you as a comrade. Someone to protect from harm’s way.

“I can’t ask that of you,” you finally answer him after a period of reflection. “You have your duties, and I have mine here, and mine don’t stop at this village. You must have more waiting for you, do you not?”

“You’re not asking this of me. I’m offering you,” he retaliates as he rests his hands on your knees, squeezing them gently. “Let me stay and help. The people I work for already know I’ve been gone longer than anticipated, so what’s another day or so?”

You snort at that. “You sorcerers really stick your neck outs for us, huh, Geto? Alright. I’ll let you help—for one more day. But then you have your own life to return to, alright?”

His heart skips a beat at that. “Of course.”

And he does stay and help as much as he can for that one more day. Once the remaining villagers can more or less leave the safe house, you offer him your place to stay for the night and offer to cook him some things to regain his strength before he leaves.

You prepare him a hearty stew along with other family favorites, splayed out all over a low wooden table.

“It’s the least I can do for you,” you announce after setting up the table and offering him some piping hot jasmine tea to accompany his meal. “Please, eat. I’ll prepare you some more meals for you to take back with you too.”

“That’s kind of you,” he mumbles as his eyes scan the colorful array of food. He’s moved by your kindness—more than he cares to admit to himself as he brings the bowl of stew to his lips, blowing on it gently before taking a sip and humming at how delicious it tastes. Rosemary, basil, and thyme hit his nostrils, and the soft potatoes are so chockful of flavor. 

“It’s a gift,” you tease with a little smirk playing on your lips. “I may not be a fancy shmancy sorcerer like you, but I can cook a mean meal that can win anyone’s heart!”

“I believe it,” he admits openly, downing the rest of that stew with a bit of gusto before attacking some of the finger sandwiches you prepared. You grin at him with a little twinkle in your eyes.

“Now you just eat up, relax, and you can stay the night,” you reply, “This is the bare minimum of what I can do for you after you protected this village. This is what’s left of my home. But, ah, it’s not like I get to stay here as long as I want to anymore. I tend to hop from village to village taking care of people.”

“So, you’re a nomadic medicine woman?” he inquires, mid-sipping on the stew.

“Something like that,” you declare as you rest your clenched fists on your hips. “I try to stay within the more remote villages since they don’t have as much access to modern medication. They don’t care enough to upgrade or fund these areas, so us countryfolk are left to fend for ourselves a lot of the time.”

Fucking monkeys, he finds himself thinking, but more about those who don’t want to progress than those who wish to help themselves, like you do, and by extension, clearly your family.

“Eh, it is what it is, I guess!” you go on as you whip around to return to the kitchen. “Now I have a big ole’ mess to clean up so you just sit back and relax, okay?”

“Are you sure you don’t need any—” he starts, but you interject before he can finish.

“—no, finish your meal and then rest up! You’ve helped me more than enough!” you call back to him with a dismissive wave over your shoulder as you disappear into the kitchen.

You don’t get to see it, but he’s smiling more genuinely than he has in the last few months, digging into the rest of the dishes you prepared for him. He might have some disdain toward non-sorcerers as a general rule, but he supposes there are some outliers, like you, who happen to come from a family with sorcerers and non-sorcerers. Someone like you, who can understand the horrors of the world yet still wear a smile through it.

It’s refreshing, indeed.

When he leaves the village the next day, you follow through on your promise and offer him some extra meals for him to take back with him. A little something to remember you by, you joke, to which he responds saying he can’t forget a kind soul like you. You remind him that there is still true good in this world, and you only shrug it off, calling him an idiot in jest.

“I’m just doing what’s right,” you remind him as you wave him goodbye. “Now go on before you miss your train ride back home! You stay strong now, ya hear?”

He doesn’t miss his train back to Jujutsu Tech. And then not too long after he returns, he learns of Haibara’s death through Nanami and Gojo has taken up the mission. He’s then sent on another mission shortly thereafter, in a village not too far away from the village you resided in, and maybe he should have expected to, but he doesn’t at the time this happens.

He finds two helpless twin girls caged by the villagers, threatening to execute them due to their ability to use cursed energy and see spirits. Even with your words echoing in his head—‘I’m just doing what’s right’—‘I think of it as common decency’—he’s scoffing at those notions. A deep scowl on his face as he scrutinizes the village for damning two innocent little girls.

Even now. These monkeys have none. No decency whatsoever. Not like you. They’re not understanding like you. They’re not full of heart like you. You’re not blind like these monkeys are to the true, unshakable reality that they are nothing but scum for putting these girls in danger over something they can’t help or change about themselves. They’re not like you, who understand the horrors sorcerers face trying to protect scum like these…filthy fucking monkeys who refuse to understand something bigger than them exists.

These people are beneath him, beneath you. They don’t deserve mercy.

“Excuse me, why don’t we all step outside for a moment?” he finds himself suggesting, and securing the girls, he goes out somewhere he can’t be witnessed committing the atrocity he’s about to do.

That village burns to the ground at his hand. Cursing them all to Hell like they all fucking deserve, these fucking monkeys who don’t understand the burdens sorcerers bear swearing to protect their weak asses. None of them deserve respite. None of them deserve safety. They have proven to him time and time again that they don’t understand the suffering, the struggling he endures again and again and again at their hands. Unknowingly or not, such monkeys are a plague to society and are best wiped from existence.

Even with your influence, he can’t wholly change his mind, and maybe he’s still plagued by the guilt of not telling you the whole truth of the matter, by that but not by very much. He hopes you’ll understand him one day. That you’ll see him beyond his actions and for his own truth—that these people, these monkeys, don’t deserve to live for the horrors they impose on sorcerers like him.

Smirking in triumph, his eyes scan the area, smirk widening with pleasure from the growing number of dead corpses of non-sorcerer scum before he ventures into the buildings. The stench of rotting corpses fills the air.

As he searches through the village for any survivors, he freezes when he finds you amid the rubble and cobblestone, unconscious, arm splayed over your heart cradling medication and herbal remedies, and he pales upon recognizing your face.

He doesn’t expect you to be here, but he should have considered the possibility before burning it all and calling it quits on the stupid rules the world of jujutsu imposed on him. He’s done playing games with the higher-ups and jujutsu society.

Thinking nothing of it—what you don’t know won’t kill you, and he’ll nurse you back to health—he scoops your body into his arms and tosses you over his shoulder, taking you along with the girls away from that wretched village.

There are no remaining survivors aside from you and the girls, and you are not a local. You don’t count in this equation. You just happen to be in a place where shouldn’t have, but you have your own duties to fulfill, he reminds himself as a disgusted frown graces his features, gaze flitting down at your unconscious, battered form in pity, don’t you?

He returns you to the cult he’s now taken over after he expelled himself from Jujutsu Tech. Like he’s reminded himself, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. He doubts you’ll have the means of discovering what he’s done to that village any time soon, anyway.

You’re slowly recovering from the incident. The guilt does gnaw at his stone cold heart, seeing you being thrown in the crossfire when someone like you doesn’t deserve it. Someone so kind, so genuine. So true to your character. Unshakable.

You may be the only one who almost made him change his mind about stupid, simple humans, but not quite. Not everyone deserves to be saved.

Frankly, not even he deserves to be saved. He’s told Satoru himself: if Satoru’s going to kill him, then he should be the one to kill him. There’s a point to it, at least.

There is a point in keeping you safe, though. He believes in that. Wholeheartedly.

He’s drawing idle patterns along your collarbone as your eyes flutter open, taking in the surroundings that you’re still adjusting to since he brought you here. You are barely conscious through most of your time here, but you’ve already been in the temple for quite some time now.

He calls your name, and you stare at him, a bit out of it. You don’t remember where you are, naturally, since you’ve been constantly drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Geto?” you murmur upon recognizing his face as a dull pounding comes on in your head, clutching it tight as you sit up against the headboard of the bed.

“Hey,” he greets with a little smile, happy to see you’re fully conscious this time. The most you have done since he’s brought you here is drift in and out. You seem more alert this time.

“I had a mission…” you trail off, then your eyes widen, and you gasp upon realization. “Geto, how did you find me? What happened to that village? And where am I?”

“Everything’s fine,” he lies through his teeth through that plastic smile of his. “The problem there has been exorcised. I found you there unconscious, so I took you here to heal you. I’m afraid it might be wise not to leave just yet, because you’ve taken quite a blow. What were you doing there?”

“I told you—I had a job there too!” you counter, “The girls…the ones who are sorcerers from that village, are they alright?”

“Yes,” he assures you as his smile brightens his entire face. Of course, he can rely on you to worry about what truly matters in the long run—the safety of those two innocent girls.  “They’re here, safe and sound. You need to focus on your recovery. At least this way, I can repay you for the kindness you’ve given me. Though I doubt there’s much I can do in comparison.”

“You’ve done more than you could possibly imagine for me,” you breathe, reaching to rest your hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch, before resting his hand over yours. “You look…strong. Healthy. Since I saw you.”

“Do I?” he chuckles as he intertwines his fingers with yours; when you don’t seem taken aback by the gesture, he relaxes his body a bit more from its more rigid posture. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been feeling much better. And it’s in part because of you, you know. I’ve come to realize that you and I, we’re not so different, right?”

There’s a twist of disgust inside of him as he to compare himself to a human, but he doesn’t consider you so low. Not at all. Far from it. If anything, he may go as far as to declare with full conviction that he’s the one beneath you.

Yet here you are, blessing him with that ‘common decency’ he doesn’t deserve, even still. Because that’s the kind of person you are. People like you are rare finds, and he is sworn to protect rare breeds of human like you who belong to his new world order.

You grin wide, and his breath catches in his throat; how are you so effortlessly beautiful? Yet you aren’t aware of your own. How…perplexing.

“Of course. Like I said, I may not be a fancy pants like you, Mr. Sorcerer, but I can help where applicable—I call myself a medicine woman since I use some tricks my sorcerer mom taught me!”

“Do you feel good enough to get out of bed?” Geto asks, “If you’d like, I’d love to give you the tour of my temple.”

You blink at him owlishly, eyes flitting to every area of the room, awed by how huge and spacious it all is. “Wait…this is yours? I knew you were fancy! I could tell by those pretty bangs of yours, but not this fancy!”

He chuckles, his tone bright and rich, at your remark about his bangs—he usually gets the opposite reaction—and smiles as you take in your new home, if he can help it. You look more than thrilled for him, and he can’t help his heart swelling with pride from earning yet another pat on the back from you. It just reminds him of how good-natured of a person you are.

“So how’s that huge gash on your shoulder? Did that doctor friend of yours help?” you find yourself asking as your gaze lands back on him. He freezes for a moment at the mention of Shoko before grunting.

“Yes, it’s much better now,” he replies, smiling. “Thank you. For everything back there. You really are an extraordinary girl, you know that?”

You rub the back of your head, wincing a bit from the mild throbbing still. “Aw, shucks, it’s like I tell ya, I’m just doing what’s right.”

He hums, and while a bold move, he moves to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You freeze, gazing up at him with those shimmering, timid eyes as you realize what he’s just done.

“What’s that for?”  you whisper, eyes flitting down to his lips in spite of yourself. His lips curve into a smirk when he catches that little action of yours and merely shrugs.

“You’ve done a lot for me,” he answers in a smooth tone. “It’s just a little token of appreciation. And I find you’re a wonderful girl.”

Your cheeks burn from the flattery, and you laugh nervously. “That’s awfully nice of you to say, Geto! But I’m nothing special.”

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, brushing his fingers along your cheek. “I won’t rush you, of course. You’re still recovering. But I’d like to know you better.”

Now it’s your breath that catches in your throat when he says that, and you’re smiling even bigger, before wincing again as the dull throbbing in your head makes another wave. “I’d love that more than you know, Geto.”

“Suguru,” he corrects, still smiling. This time it reaches his brilliant sparkling purple eyes. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You beam at him, your gorgeous eyes twinkling. “Uh-huh, we sure are—owww!”

You clutch your head again, wincing, another wave of throbbing pain...

“You should take it easy,” he reprimands you with a frown. “Treat my home as yours. You can stay for as long as you need.”

“You’re far too kind, Suguru,” you reply, still beaming through the pain. “But hey, I can power through it! Just might need to be knocked out cold for another week or something though…”

Geto can’t help chuckling at that. “I’ll have some of our servants bring you food and medication. You can just relax as long as you need to, and I’m here for you.”

“Mr. Geto!!!!” A loud voice calls before a young blonde girl runs up to him. “We’re hungry!!!! Is she awake and is she okay???”

“Keep your voice down, Nanako,” he chides, before flashing you an apologetic smile. “She’s fine, but you need to use your inside voice around her.”

“Inside voice,” Nanako replies, lowering her tone to a low whisper. “Okay! But we’re huuuuuungry! Does she want to join us for lunch?”

“It’s noon?” you groan at him with an exasperated look. He stares back at you, apologetic.

“Well, would you like to? None of us would be opposed to lunch in bed,” he teases.

Nanako pumps her fists in the air.

“Yeah!!! And we can play Pokemon!”

“Nanako,” he chides again. “Inside voice! And she’ll need her space.”

You grin at Nanako’s antics, not minding in the slightest. “I’m really glad the twins are alright. Those people treated them so harshly.”

“They are,” he promises, then turns back to Nanako while scratching her head affectionately. “Order some food and bring Mimiko here. We’ll have lunch together, alright?”

Nanako nods and runs off.

“If I wasn’t feeling like shit, I’d cook for you again,” you offer, “It clearly looks like I’ll be out of commission for a bit longer than I want to, but if it means I get to spend more time with you, then I’m not complainin’!”

“There’s no need for that,” he replies, flattered by your comment as his heart swells with more pride. Your approval is all he cares about right now—because you don’t yet know the truth of the situation you have found yourself in; the guilt from lying to you is still weighing heavy on his heart. But you understand the real priorities—those humans are scum, which reassures him to a certain extent. “We’re happy with the pleasure of your company.”

“Man, stop buttering me up!” you whack him on the chest playfully. “I’m just little old me, not a big shot like you, Suguru.”

“Nonsense,” he retorts, “You’re plenty special.”

“And you’re still smooth talking!” you huff, before spluttering with laughter. “But alright! I’m seriously down for lots of rest and lots of food!”

“I’ll let Nanako know what to order for you. What would you like?”

You list out your typical go-tos, and he takes it all into account. He’s putting in his very best efforts to bring you the utmost comfort, and you don’t have to tell him you’re grateful for his hospitality. It’s safe to say he’s obviously not the type to offer something like this so openly.

Once you fully recover, he lets you go so you can fulfill your duties—much to his own reluctance. He’s become too attached to you—far more than he wants to admit to himself or to you.

Keeping you from doing what you believe is right is selfish of him, though he fears that you may not cross paths with him for a while.

“Aw, don’t fret, Suguru! I can come back, you know!” you assure him with an actual pat on his back.

“I’d love for you to,” Geto replies, his stare bordering on longing and tender. But of course, you don’t take it that way. You’re already turning your back, waving over your shoulder. “Take care.”

It’s at that moment he realizes he should have told you more, that he should have told you what happened, but he doesn’t want you to be afraid of him.

You do follow through on your promise, like you always do. Your character always proves to be unshakable. You’re a woman of your word, and he takes great pleasure in the fact.

For the last four or so years, you have returned in between your duties to spend time with him and the twins, who are more than thrilled to have you spend more time with them. They remember your kindness even before he burned it all to the ground.

Though you still have yet to learn the truth of what happened, he wants to maintain the illusion that everything’s still fine between you.

You make Geto more alive than he’s had since that dreaded day. Since he’s made that decision to stray from the conservative ways of jujutsu society. Full of fools who don’t understand the burdens they’ve forced upon people like him.

He strives for progress; he strives for harmony; he strives for peace. The only way to get that peace is to eliminate the cause of everyone’s suffering.

Geto just knows he’s clinging onto something from you he knows won’t last, but damn it, he can’t change what his heart wants. And it’s you. By his side. Through Hell or high water. There’s a point in protecting you, even if you aren’t traditionally what he accepts. He can’t bring himself to allow a good person like you die—there’s already so few of you out there.

He does wonder if you’ve caught onto the subtle changes in him. Well, it’s not too subtle to those close to him, or who have once been close to him—to them, it’s like he’s made a complete 180—but he wishes for things to reman more or less the same with you. You still view him through rose-colored lenses, and he would hate to shatter your perspective with the crushing reality that he’s not the hero you praise him to be, that he’s a monster.

Even if he kills that village for the safety of those girls, it doesn’t change that he doesn’t regret what he did, that he prefers that non-sorcerers be evicted from society…permanently.

“Are you going to keep staring into space, Suguru? Because those veggies ain’t gonna chop themselves,” you call out to him as you read along in your family recipe book while working with multiple pans and pots. Your culinary genius never fails to impress him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate a helping hand every now and then and he’s offered to numerous times.

He pulls himself out of his thoughts, picking up the large, sharpened premium chef’s knife and deftly chops the cucumbers, dices the onions, shallots, and bell peppers…

“You guys are so lucky I don’t charge you for all of this cookin’ I do for your conferences,” you snort, switching off some areas of the stove once those dishes are complete. “So how many members are we even feeding? This could feed entire villages, you know!”

“We have accumulated a staggering number of devotees and members,” Geto chuckles as he tosses the variety of veggies into a large ceramic bowl before handing it to you. He tries to ignore the softness of your skin as your fingers brush against his. He can’t lose sight of the reality—he’s a liar, and he has yet to come clean about his actions. He can’t entertain his feelings right now.

Maybe he shouldn’t bring it up while you’re in an environment with knives present.

“I really do appreciate everything you do here. The girls have really come to love you. Even some other members of the family have praised you, and that’s a rare thing, given how guarded all of them are,” Geto tells you with a winning smile on his face.

He doesn’t appear as worn and torn as he had all those years ago—well, four years is not that long but it’s enough to drastically change a person—and he can tell you’ve noticed. He may have found comfort in troubling ideals, but there’s a part of him that believes that you still see goodness in him, that he’s striving for the greater good, ultimately.

“Here you go again buttering me up like I’m about to these veggies,” you snicker as you toss them into the pot before twisting around to face him. “I think we’re all good to go here. Thanks for your help, Suguru! These dishes should be done right on time.”

Geto flashes you a smile before taking one of your free hands into his, kissing gently along your knuckles.

“Thank you,” he praises, violet eyes flitting upward to meet yours. “You have no idea how grateful we are for you.”

You roll your eyes as you retract your hand. “Alright, you. Enough of that. Leave me to the kitchen now. Actually, wait—!” you start while scooping a bit of stew from a large ceramic pot with a ladle, before presenting the piping hot sample to his lips. “—Taste test?”

You tip the ladle into his mouth, and he hums, smacking his lips as he judges the flavors. He then makes a pleased sound, sipping the rest of the sample with gusto, a little bit of the stew spraying on your hand.

Ah. An open opportunity. He lowers his lips to the area of your hand that still had some leftover stew, pressing his lips to the inflicted area and lightly slurping the leftovers up before pulling away with a little grin.

You make a mock displeased face before wiping your hand clean. “Ya nasty. Okay, now you can leave me to my devices.”

He does just that—frankly because he doesn’t want to test your patience while you’re in the cooking zone—and retires to the common area where Nanako and Mimiko are playing some dumb mobile game that’s completely taken up their free time between training sessions. Geto isn’t going to be one to rob them of their youth like those villagers were going to, so he tries his best not to be too strict with his rules about particularly electronics.

Especially considering Nanako’s cursed technique…

The meeting runs smoothly. You do stay behind to greet some of the members of the family you have met in the past. Even Miguel seems pleased to see you, which is a rarity for him, but it’s likely because they both share a love for the culinary arts. Regardless of the reasons, Geto is just happy to see you finding a place here—a home away from your home, where you had everything from you taken away just like he did.

Once the meeting concludes, Geto insists you stay over for a few nights. You at first try to decline, reminding him that you can’t exactly leave people in the more rural areas of Japan unattended, but he swears to make it worth your while.

An offer you can’t refuse, mainly because you’ve grown attached to him too.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been fully honest with you,” he brings up one evening, as you’re assisting him with some household work in his temple. You offer to in spite of the numerous times he refuses. You just like to be of service where you can. “About what happened in that village.”

“Why bring that up now? It’s been years,” you answer as you wipe off a bead of sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist.

“Because what I’m going to tell you might change everything between us. I’ve been selfish.”

“Suguru, you’re scaring me,” you remark, “What happened out there? I was out cold for most of it.”

“I know,” he replies, expression grim as he wipes his hands with a cloth. “I think it’s best if you take a seat for this.”

He leads you to the common area and sits you down on one of the couches there. He begins telling you that the villagers aren’t as open to the existence of sorcerers as your village was, that they threatened to execute the girls believing that they were the cause of their misfortune. He braces himself for the icy cold sting of rejection as he admits that because of that, he massacred the entire village and took you, and the girls, with him out of there to safety.

But instead of a backhanded slap across the face, or a lot of shouting or yelling, he meets your gaze to find your expression blank. Like you’re grappling with everything he’s just spilled to you—something he’s kept from you for all these years because he’s selfish and he can’t help that side to himself.

“I don’t blame you if this means you don’t want to see me again. I’ve done terrible things, and I will continue to do terrible things…” Geto can’t bear to look at your blank expression anymore and he flits his gaze elsewhere, resting his hands on your knees. “Sometimes we must do the things we mustn’t…for the greater good. For the protection of those who deserve protection. F….for those who truly matter in this world. You deserve protection. The girls deserve protection. But that village…they’re nothing but scum better off erased. I don’t regret a single thing I’ve done.”

Deciding it best to face the music, he meets your eyes again. Blank. Expressionless. Void.

Like him.

“But I don’t regret meeting you,” he goes on, eyes softening as he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you’re unresponsive, likely from shock. He squeezes your knees gently. “I don’t regret saving you, protecting you. I know I should have told you the truth sooner, but I didn’t want things between us to change.” He rests his head on your lap, voice strained. “I didn’t want to lose what we had. I didn’t want to lose you.”

The silence hangs in the air between them, constricting him like invisible chains around his neck and torso. He buries his face into his lap, awaiting your ultimate judgment—because he’s accepted a long time ago that he is indeed beneath someone as pure and as kind as you are. He’s not once deserved your kindness or this ‘common decency’ you so often preached because that’s the kind of person you are. He’s admired you for your character. He hasn’t stopped admiring you for your character.

His lips begin to quiver, and he feels a wetness down his cheeks, and, stunned, he raises his hand to find they’ve been stained with tears. You haven’t said a word since he confessed his sins. He doesn’t regret those sins.

“They were people too,” you mumble, digging your fingers into the fabric of your pants. “You…you really killed them? All of them? I-I know I’ve heard reports of a natural disaster taking the village, but all this time…that was to cover up your crime?”

“Yes,” he confirms, bloodshot eyes meeting your dead ones. “As you know, the existence of sorcerers is rare, and thus when such occurrences happen, and they do—perhaps not to such a degree like my own crimes—they have to cover it up to the general public. So they declared the village was overtaken by an earthquake. But the reality is I cursed them all to death.”

“You…” You hug your knees to your chest, shivering. “You—you…why?”

“Not everyone is like you. Not everyone is understanding and kind like you. They were going to kill two innocent girls!” He wants you to understand that particular detail—if he plays a bit more on your empathetic nature, does that mean he has a shot at keeping you in spite of the sins he’s committed? “You do understand where I’m coming from, don’t you? Those villagers you tried to protect in your village, your family died protecting them!”

“Yes,” you breathe, remembering your lost loved ones, your eyes now shimmering from sadness at their memories. “They were heroes. They did what they believed was right.”

“And I did what I believed was right,” he insists, desperation evident in his tone as he squeezes your knees too tight, to the point his veins begin to pop. “I saved you and the girls from those wretched, vile people.”

“You did save us,” you mumble, “That’s true. But the villagers, they didn’t all deserve to die…”

“I know you must be conflicted, but please understand where I’m coming from,” he bites back a whimper. “I don’t want to lose you. You’ve become dear to me and to the girls.”

“Suguru…” you trail off, but then you’re taken aback as his hands move up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the tears pricking at the corners of your stunning eyes.

“A man does what he mustn’t to protect those who matter to him most,” he whispers as he draws his face closer to yours, until his lips are barely against yours. “For her. To be worthy of her. Do you believe me?”

“I want to,” you whisper back, your eyes dropping to his lips then back to meet his eyes. Your breath hitches as you force down a sob. “I want to, but this is—Suguru, this is…a lot…”

“Then try to believe me. Try to trust me. That’s all I ask of you. I know I don’t deserve it,” he says, his lips teasing yours, hovering so close yet not quite meeting. His warm breath fans over your lips.

“But I am nothing without you,” he finishes, his words coming out in a low, raw whisper—he sounds so jaded from the horrors he’s witnessed all of his life. His eyes unravels so much to you, a man who has known too much violence and too much tragedy, and in this moment, a need for you to accept him as he is—hero or not, criminal or not.

Finally, his lips meet yours. His softness takes you aback, no urgency in the kiss just yet. His moves move languidly against your own, coaxing soft sounds out of you. He can tell you’re hesitating, frozen by the action, but his persistence encourages you; he’s frightened, that this is the only chance he might ever have with you. You shyly return the kiss, uncertain. You’re breathless when he pulls back, his entire expression softening.

“Wh-what was that for?” you murmur, your fingers brushing absently over your lips, still tingling from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confesses, his voice lowering an octave as he reaches out, brushing his fingers through your bangs. “I love you.”

“Suguru, I…” you stammer, your body still trembling, a war of unfamiliar emotions rushing through your mind.

“Shh,” he whispers, drawing his lips closer to yours once more. “There’s so much I want to try with you. Can you try to trust me?”

You gulp, averting your gaze as your heart races. You find it difficult to breathe. “I…”

“Do speak up,” he purrs, as a teasing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t know if I can wait.” The playful edge to his tone catches him off-guard, but he frames his words to make it seem like you don’t have a real choice on the matter. Trust is no longer something you can withhold from him, even if you want to, and maybe that’s selfish of him, but he’s come to accept that he’s no virtuous hero a long time ago.

“O-okay,” you squeak, the sound of your (reluctant) submission charges something within him. An all too eager Geto scoops you up effortlessly into his arms, carrying you princess style as his lips trail kisses all over your face and forehead. The tension in his body melts off of him as he whisks you away to his bedroom.

“I’ll prove to you that I’m still the man you know,” he murmurs into your skin as he rests you on the feathery mattress. “I’m not a hero, I’m afraid,” he adds softly, speaking to himself more than to you. “No, not a hero…I’m far too selfish for that.”

He rests a hand on your cheek, a calloused thumb brushing along your soft skin with a reverence that catches you off-guard. He leans in, his hovering over yours, your breaths mixing.

“But I can still be the man for you,” he murmurs between heated kisses along your jaw. “The man you deserve.” His voice dips in a rawer way.

“Suguru…” Your hands instinctively reach up to grip his shoulders.

“I’ve…never done this before…” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, laden with nerves.

He pauses, a low hum vibrating in his throat as he kisses you once more, dragging his lips along the edge of your mouth before pulling back with a low, fervent growl. The intensity in his gaze is far too much.

“Then I’ll be gentle, my dear,” he vows, his voice a low rasp as he presses his forehead against yours. I’m yours to use as much as you like.”

He moves to unbutton your top, revealing your delicious figure. There’s a tremble in his hands as he explores your body. He traces the swells of your breasts before pulling them out from your bra, grinding his teeth against a nipple before sucking it into his mouth with a loud slurp.

You gasp, another flush blooming across your features. “Wait, Suguru—!”

He ignores you as he suckles a bit on the nipple, eyebrows furrowing as some milk splatters on his tongue. He hums at the exquisite taste before jis bewildered eyes meet yours, removing your nipple from his mouth with a pop to speak.

“How are you lactating?” he asks, not doing much to hide how giddy he is from this new discovery. He definitely plans on taking advantage of this for more than one occasion.

“Um…partially diet and uh…herbal medicine stuff…” you flush, covering your face from embarrassment. “S-some new mothers face difficulties with nursing so some remedies I created help with that…and I have to test them on myself, so…”

“I see,” he groans as he laves his tongue around your nipple, flicking off leftover droplets of milk. “Fascinating.”

He closes his mouth over your perky nipple and suctions hard, groaning at the taste. More flavorful than any meal you have ever cooked for him, and he can’t get enough of the pitchy moans you’re working so hard to bite down.

One of his hands fondles your unattended breasts, and he coos at how soft your mounds are, flicking his finger over your nipple as he greedily drinks from the other one.

“Fuck,” he moans into your skin. “Don’t hold back on those beautiful noises. You should enjoy it.”

“Suguru…it’s just…embarrassing…” you admit through a pitched voice. He laughs a bit at that, not to mock you (shockingly), but because he wants to ravish you.

He parts the nipple he assaulted with a kiss before switching, suckling on one nipple while a finger toys with the opposite. He prays that he will be the only one who gets to have you like this, and he intends to see that through. He doesn’t like the idea of you being with anyone else. The thought makes his blood burble beneath his skin.

He shifts gears, flipping you over so that now you’re on top of him. You yelp from shock, but it’s muffled as his lips plunge against yours, his tongue invading your mouth and gliding along the edges of your teeth. His hands snake down your waist and hips, stopping at the hem of your pants where he tucks his fingers inside and pulls them off along with your panties (which he definitely plans to keep to himself).

He purrs your name, and you let out a low whimper.

“I meant what I said before,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling away, sliding you up until your cunt is hovering over his face. “I’m yours to use.”

“I-I don’t know what to, um, exactly do…Suguru…” Your face is beet red.

He chuckles at that, sliding his tongue up your folds. “In that case, I’ll guide you. Worry not.”

He shoves your cunt into his tongue, twisting it between your folds and a shaky gasp leaves your lips. He digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, close to your crack as his tongue laves over your sensitive skin, your own slick already building from the slightest treatment. He hums, tongue flicking over your clit as his eyes never leave yours, admiring your flushed face, your rosy, parted lips as more breathy moans escape them.

From his focal point, you truly are a goddess, a true beauty—further proof that he’s truly beneath you in every conceivable way.

“Suguru…” Oh, his name rolling off your lips sounds so good, so sweet.

“Don’t be shy,” he purrs, his breath fanning over your folds before plunging the wet muscle into your fluttering entrance, making you choke on another gasp as you grasp for something—you reach for the top of the headboard to maintain a semblance of balance as his tongue fucks repeatedly into your spongy walls.

His grip on your ass cheeks tighten as his tongue ravishes you, and he growls when he feels your gummy walls clenching around him. You’re coming, and you throw your head back as you do, shouting as you’re unfamiliar with the sensation.

“Thank you for blessing me with such a beautiful sight,” he praises, tone full of reverence as he pinches one of your ass cheeks, making you squeak again. “My mouth isn’t the only thing free for your use, my love.”

He guides you back down to his lap, where his growing erection through his robe is evident. He grinds up into your pussy, still drenched from your arousal. “My cock, my fingers, anything. They’re all yours.”

He grabs one of your hands and rests it on his clothed erection. He groans your name. “Do you feel what you do to me? What more can I do to show you—that I am the man for you?”

“I…I don’t know,” you admit, tone wistful. “Suguru, I told you. I’ve…never done this before.”

He adjusts your positions, taking a moment to completely disrobe and reveal his bare body to you. He moves to cup your face, brushing his thumb along your lips.

“I’ll make this worth it for you,” he purrs, as he grinds the tip of his cock against your pussy. You bite back a moan in spite of yourself. “Can you trust me? I understand it’s too much to ask—”

“—Yes,” you murmur, and as he presses a kiss to your lips, he pushes the tip of his cock inside, experimentally. Sensing any discomfort from you before he rests his back against the headboard, guiding you up and down his girthy cock. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, growling into your skin as he keeps a gentle, but far from slow pace. Trying to get you used to the sensation, to the feeling of being filled to the hilt by his impressive size. He doesn’t want to hurt you. His fingers sink into your waist, as he purrs your name over and over.

“I’m yours,” he vows as his intense gaze never leaves yours. “I’m yours, my love. That much is true.”

He shouts as he comes, and you soon follow after and he’s moaning throughout as your walls clench around his girth. You slowly come down from the hot flash in ragged breaths, yours syncing with his.

“I’m yours,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose against yours. You glance down at him, chest still heaving as you catch your breath.

“I know,” you say, as his hands intertwine with yours. “I’m yours too.”