#i am so tired of being the one who cares more or at all
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butlervibesonly · 2 days ago
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𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler
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• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.
• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader
• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...
• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭
Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.
The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"
"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.
"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.
You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.
No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.
“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.
"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.
Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.
You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.
“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.
“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.
"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.
He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.
Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.
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yaseraphine · 2 days ago
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RANT ABOUT THERAPY AND WHY IT'S NOT MY CUP OF TEA 🤡
+ trying to guess the therapist's rising and our synastry and ranting about it cause I am tired man (and too sensitive lol)
Really messy post btw just a disclaimer lol
Just had my first therapist appointment since 2021 and what can I say....it was REALLY awkward. I don't know how people are able to spill their deepest traumas like that bro she just sat down and told me to talk 💀 like what I thought she would interview me or start the first appointment with pre-made questions to make a profile, regarding my background, family relationships,etc .. It was really messy and I was so confused throughout the whole thing.
I understand it's a privilege to afford therapy (it was 60euros for 45 minutes lol of course it is) but it is much more complex than just spilling your guts to a random with a degree.
Something about me is that I always thought i didn't really need therapy, no matter how painful a situation was for me. And it wasn't only therapy, it was also opening up to my own friends 💀 i could take care of myself like i always did anyways so whats the point of paying for it ? I understood people who needed it and felt helped by it. But it just wasn't for me. I have realizations on my own consistantly thanks to my self-awareness and trained and developped intuition.
What pushed me to go back to therapy even though i was , and still am, very skeptical in its effectiveness on me, is that this year, I realized asking for help won't actually kill me and that i have my limits as a human being.
I fear this appointment just unfortunately kind of validated my initial more negative feelings towards therapy and the idea that I don't really need it.
As a really introspective and painfully self-aware person who has a hard time asking for help (but is actively working on it), I really don't know what kind of therapy could help me, really. I know I probably have a few blind spots, but it's so out of my comfort zone to open up like that. I kind of hate it.
I want to keep an open mind, and probably try another therapist but damn if I don't f*ck with any, it just feels forced .. I trust divine timing for that because I don't really want to put myself in such a situation again.
Right now, I feel dirty knowing a random woman knows about my deepest traumas in a really messy and all over the place way. She has fragments of my soul, and despite me having somewhat giving my consent for it, it was too fast. Maybe it's my 8th house moon conjunct Lilith (1181) in Leo that is speaking but I feel literally violated. Strong words but this how uncomfortable it was for me.
Guessing the therapist's rising sign and ranting about 12th house synastry...
Random but I think the therapist in question had a Virgo or Leo rising... I already said it's the most common rising signs (especially virgo) and I am losing patience. We probably had a 12th house synastry that's why our exchange was really weird and scattered. She kept on making weird faces while I was talking telling me she didn't understand what I was trying to say.... I know it all too well because EVERY single person I knew or had interacted with that had a leo rising, my interactions with them were like this. I was saying stuff and it felt like it went in one ear and got out in the other. Like they could hear me but not listen and understand what i was trying to say. This kind of reminds me of Willy Wonka's relationship with Mike TV or wth his name is, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Tim Burton's movie. Wonka always said stuff to him whenever he opened his mouth like "I cannot hear a single thing you say because you're speaking gibberish"or whatever. (Me being Mike TV and Leo risings being Willy Wonka).
This is how every single one of my interactions with Leo risings went, no matter their gender or age. It was always like that.
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wholelottaprompts · 10 hours ago
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ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩
from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter
"And I still make excuses for you constantly."
"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"
"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."
"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."
"Whatever, you're a waste of time."
"I can't myself when you get close to me."
“Oh, so you do have a type."
"Where else can we go?"
"I hate the way you left me dry."
"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."
"Don't say sorry now."
"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."
"I tried to look for the best in the worst."
"Oh, so you can reply."
"I'm so tired."
"You want me? I'm done."
"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."
"You're lucky I'm a private person."
"I'm over that son of a bitch."
"Don't make me cuss you out."
"You're so vicious."
"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."
"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"
"I can't help it, it's a habit."
"You act like a bitch."
"I never saw him and we never kissed."
"There's nothing left here to decode."
"Were you lying to me and the family?"
"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."
"You don't feel remorse."
"That never made too much sense to me."
"I can't read your mind."
"Why'd you let me down?"
"You knew I would see that."
"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."
"Bet you wanna love me now."
"How do you do this to me?"
"Tell me what's gonna happen."
"You knew I would notice."
"I'll drive you home."
"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."
"I want you there sometimes."
"She looks nothing like me."
"Your signals are mixed."
"Everything reminds me of you."
"I know you know it keeps me up."
"You drive me crazy."
"Chase me."
"Did you even give a fuck?"
"You disgust me."
"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."
"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."
"Why do you look so happy?"
"I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Thanks to you, I can't love right."
"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."
"You fit every stereotype."
"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"
"Now I can't even look at you."
"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."
"I know what you're about to say."
"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"
"He had it coming."
"I deserve my own consideration."
"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."
"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."
"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."
"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"
"All my friends think I've gone crazy."
"I care, but I don't."
"Please fucking fix this."
"Tell me that you miss me in your life."
"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."
"You were all I looked up to."
"Was I being lied to?"
"I got ways to find you anywhere."
"You miss me? No duh."
"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."
"It was all so innocent."
"What the fuck is patience?"
"I can't even stomach loving someone else."
"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."
"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."
"I bet your house is where my other sock is."
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whentherewerebicycles · 2 days ago
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ok and now some thoughts about my early experience of parenting.
it kinda rocks... i really like it. i will definitely have a second kid if finances and biology work out. my life is so much better with this little guy in it. the sacrifices so far are mostly minor and are much more logistical than personal. i have to work more hours than i'd ideally want to because there's only one paycheck. i have to try to cobble together more sleep than i used to because i am pretty tired at the end of the day. i can't go to the gym or run an errand or go write at a coffeeshop for a few hours without hiring a sitter or asking my friends to help out. but the tradeoff is i get to be this little kid's mom. he thinks i'm pretty funny and he's interested in everything i do and he calls to me to get me to come over to his mat and talk to him and he likes to grab my face and hold it still so he can study it real intently and when he's upset he wants me to snuggle him until he feels better. i would pick that over getting to run into a store without the stroller a million times over.
i remember reading this book years ago where someone (paulo freire? someone influenced by freire's pedagogy?) recommended that all teachers, no matter how long they'd been teaching, carve out time every six months to reflect on their teaching practices and consider whether those practices were aligned with their core/guiding values as educators. i obviously love this idea because i was born to engage in sustained reflective journaling about my values lol. but also: i do think there's value in setting aside time at regular intervals to check in with yourself about the way you are living, or about whatever you are practicing, whether it's teaching or your work with others or, in this case, parenting. so idk i might try using his birthday and half birthday as time to journal both about my kid and about my own practice of parenting.
do i have a practice of parenting?? that sounds too fancy for someone who is only six months in lol. but i do enjoy thinking about what i'm doing and i like trying to connect the day-to-day choices i'm making to larger principles. i have written about this before but idk i think i am somebody who derives a strong sense of security and groundedness from having a loose framework of guiding values i can refer to when making decisions. and i guess in this first round of reflective journaling i will try to articulate what some of those emerging values/principles are. here we go:
I am making a conscious effort to not sweat the small stuff. there are one million things you can be worried or stressed about in parenting. and there are one million ways you can fall into the trap of thinking that if you just control every single variable nothing bad will happen to your kid. i am trying, inasmuch as i can, to avoid at least a few ways of falling into that trap. i have worked really hard to choose flexibility instead of rigidity when it comes to, for instance, letting other people care for my kid. it's okay if people do things differently than i would - as long as he's safe, he can only benefit from being exposed to different caretaking styles and adapting to different people's ways of engaging with him. i also made a decision early on to not engage with any parenting content on social media (this means ignoring the dozens of insta reels my mom sends me every week lol) and that has been really healthy/good for me. there is TOO MUCH information out there. it is way too overwhelming. you could spend your whole life worrying and i want to spend my life doing other things, like funny accents and comedy bits for the baby.
i am working hard to not interpret other people's parenting choices as a judgment of my own. i really believe that there are lots of different ways to raise healthy, well-adjusted kids. we can make different choices (small and big choices!) and still arrive at the same outcomes. i just really don't want to be the kind of person who takes it personally when people do something differently than i would've! i want to be secure enough in my choices to be able to accept and appreciate a whole range of other parenting styles. i also want to be humble enough to realize that i don't have it all figured out and might learn something from reflecting on someone else's parenting choices. anyway this has been a challenging one as i sometimes DO feel quite judged or shamed by other people's choices. but i also think it's ok to feel that reaction as long as i can keep making space for myself to take a deep breath and think through why i feel like that. idk! work in progress but i've only had six months of practice lol.
i am also trying not to interpret other people's anxieties as anything other than them working through their own stuff. to give one example: i love my mom so much but she is just, like, vibrating out of her skin with anxiety at all times about literally everything. and she has really found an outlet for that anxiety in grandparenting. i get dozens of texts a week about what exercises i should be doing with him and what experiences i should be making sure he has and where i should be taking him and what i should be saying to him and what i should be asking the doctor about and so on and so forth. this obviously could be pretty stressful, and i know that my brother and SIL find it so stressful that it is kind of negatively impacting their relationship with her. but idk i feel like with my mom i spent a lot of my life taking her anxieties personally, thinking that she thought i was incompetent/incapable/irresponsible/whatever. and then at some point in the last few years i was just like oh... this isn't about me at all, is it? this has absolutely nothing to do with me. this is just her fear and her terror of doing things wrong and her overwhelming need to avoid shame, and all of that emotional stuff just happens to be playing out in this relationship because we are close enough that she can lets her emotional walls down and let me see the churning river of anxiety that runs through the heart of her life. i wish that she didn't feel like that. but it's also not something i can fix or change. the only thing that is within my control is the choice not to take it personally, which in turn helps me put some guardrails around it so that it doesn't impact our relationship. idk i think this will probably be an ongoing thing i have to sort through for myself. but also she is who she is and i love her and it is important to me that she be a big part of owen's life. so we will figure it out.
I refuse to optimize my parenting because i refuse to see my child as a thing that needs to be optimized. this is in some ways hard for me because in many respects i am all-in on the very american philosophy that everything can be improved endlessly, including yourself and your family, if you just work harder and care more and give endlessly of yourself to the work. but nope! nope. not for parenting. not for my kid. i want him to have experiences and be exposed to new things, but not so he can "get ahead" or excel in things. i want him to be curious, engaged, interested, flexible, alive to the world, open to new things. i do not care if he is bilingual by age four or has a STEM curriculum at his daycare or goes to a top college or whatever. and i want the choices i make about what we do together and how we spend our time to reflect that. idk he's still so little that this is not super relevant yet but i can feel some of it creeping in.
lastly: i am trying to approach all aspects of parenting with the fundamental belief that i am and will be a good parent. i feel like our culture wants women in particular to spend all their time feeling guilty and inadequate as mothers. we also don't get a lot of external feedback on whether or not we're doing a good job as parents, which i think can make us frantic for validation and riddled with self-doubt over whether we are doing Enough. but i want to just like, try to cut some of that out and just answer it for myself. i'm doing a great job. i'm a great mom. i love my kid and my kid loves me. as i learn more about my child and myself as a parent i will undoubtedly adjust my approach to parenting many times, but making adjustments doesn't mean i was doing something "wrong" or "bad" before. it just means i want to try something new or shift gears a little bit. idk maybe this sounds dumb but i actually think it is proving kind of powerful so far as a strategy for managing parenting anxiety. i just assume that my parenting instincts are reasonably good and will guide me to make reasonably good choices, and if something turns out not to work, i assume i am a good enough parent to figure it out and adapt accordingly.
ok!! good journaling session and now it's time for bed!!
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martialartslover7 · 2 days ago
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Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba sympathize the most with Sasuke's fall from grace after the Five Kage Summit.
Alright, this is another headcanon of mine that can be written off as "mental", but hear me out, this has so much potential.
I'd like to think that, outside of Team 7, Sasuke wasn't just closely acquainted with Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, but also:
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Neji (whom we even got a small teaser hint of a rivalry between him and Sasuke for, which sadly, never came to be, because Byakugan VS Sharingan is a question in the community, that truly needs answering)
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Shikamaru (shogi rivals, nuff' said, the only guy, that managed to corner Shikamaru at his own game, I mean, Sasuke is meant to be a genius too, so, why not?)
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Kiba (just being around him, Sasuke's IQ just automatically decreases, but in a fun way, like Renji and Uryu from Bleach, considering, Kiba had lived most of his life, surrounded by moody, dominating women, and he might be Sasuke's "stay-in wingman", when it comes to Sakura, or they would just talk about how tiring women can be, but they do manage to get best results out of you with their motivation, and he would be way easier to handle for Sasuke, because unlike Naruto, Kiba ain't braindead)
These are the three main players, but if you want, you can also put Choji and Rock Lee into the mix, considering that, later down the road, Sasuke's and Choji's daughter would end up becoming besties, and if Might Guy wouldn't survive the war, he and Lee can become the new Kakashi and Might Guy, the next generation, if you will. And this is ironic, because...
...just by coincidence, who else was sent to get Sasuke back, to prevent him from defecting to Orochimaru? Ah yes.
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But now, I get to the meat and bones of this thread. And that being, the reason why I believe personally, it was a wasted opportunity to not give Sasuke more personal allies that sympathize with his actions, after he joined the Akatsuki.
Like, NO ONE can tell me, that the Uchiha weren't the only ones, who were under close observation within Konoha borders, by the elders. Sure, they were the biggest target, but it leaves you asking, especially in regards to those clans, who are either the strategist faction, or possess sensory type abilities: What about them? Wouldn't they suspect that something was going horribly wrong over there, at the Uchiha compound? Did absolutely NO ONE hear the screams, or blood splatters? I am just not sold on the idea that EVERYONE in Konoha blindly agreed to Tobirama's discriminatory policies, some had to know better than most. The select few, who weren't exactly fans of just distancing themselves from another clan, all because some frankly racist piece of garbage for a Hokage said so, along with the useless shitstains, that are the Konoha elders, especially Danzo.
And now, three people come to mind, where I truly felt like, they could have been there that night, when the Uchiha clan was being slaughtered, and they were either too late to stop it, or Itachi had knocked them out with his Genjutsu (which purposely contradicts Madara's propaganda about "no one in the village cared about the Uchiha, and only saw them as tools"). And ironically, they are probably the very select few of the adult shinobi, who weren't complete sub-human trash.
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Hizashi Hyuga.
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Shikaku Nara.
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Tsume Inuzuka.
Just picture these three adults being the only ones, who caught on to what was happening, through not just the screams of terror, the smell of blood, or seeing through the walls with the Byakugan from Hizashi. But sadly, by the time they arrive, most of the Uchiha were already slaughtered. And right before they could even act to evacuate those, who may have survived, Itachi arrives, and knocks them clean out with his Tsukuyomi, not killing them, as their passing would just cause an uproar throughout the village, the following day.
And once Danzo learns, that three non-Uchiha, Leaf shinobi, were actually present that night, and they may or may not have caught a glimpse of who else was there that night, Hizashi, Shikaku and Tsume were forced to stay silent on the matter, as Danzo threatened them, through the lense of the ROOT Anbu:
"Dare to let a single word about last night's events slip, then your clans will be receiving severe repurcussions."
I mean, sure, it's kind of silly to try and silence three unrelated Leaf ninja into keeping silent, but considering how paranoid the elderly can be, especially Danzo, I wouldn't put it past him to actually go there.
And how convenient, because as the story progressed, two of these adults would wind up deceased. Shikaku died in the 4th Great Ninja war. One piece of the puzzle, gone.
Hizashi would actually be the first one to die, before all two of them, because the Hyuga clan was trying to mend their security blunder that one fateful night, when someone from Kumogakure tried to kidnap Hinata. But keeping in mind everything I just said, it just adds another layer to how corrupt this shinobi system truly is. Who is to say, Danzo basically bribed the Hyuga elders to sacrifice Hizashi, in place of Hiashi, because he couldn't possibly risk that one defiant Hyuga showing lip to the Hokage? Something to think about. Even if Hiruzen remains a useless piece of shit. You can never be TOO careful, right?
Tsume would probably be the only adult to keep on living, to tell the tale, and through her, does Kiba learn, how deep the rabbit hole with Danzo actually goes, and how Sasuke's hatred for the village MIGHT be """mildly""" justified. Especially if Neji and Shikamaru were to approach him about their own clan blunders, involving Danzo, right after his passing at the hands of Sasuke.
But especially Neji, man... If everything I said gets applied in practice, it would mean, outside of Naruto, he might also be considered worthy of facing Sasuke in battle, after the Five Kage Summit. Because, not only does he more than understand how it truly feels to lose family and loved ones, but also, how this entire shinobi system is essentially screwing over those, who were unfortunate enough to be born into families, that get treated like dirt by the government, that is supposed to protect them. Just imagine their exchange, while Kiba faces off against Jugo, and Shikamaru holds Suigetsu at bay.
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"A slave to your own family... I really don't need another moral lecture from a man, who willingly decided to stick to his own kin, despite them viewing you as nothing short of cannonfodder. And yet, despite it all, you still side with them... Run, Neji. Run and hide with your insignificant existence weighing you down, before I tear you to pieces." --Sasuke
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"No, Sasuke. You're wrong. If it's any consolation, I am more than able to sympathize with your current state of mind. As of recently, I had to learn the hard way, that you and I, at the end of the day, are not so different. Believe me, you're not the only one, who was royally screwed over by the same village that you once swore to protect. The only reason, why I am not defecting, is because I still have family left to protect... Which is something I cannot say on your behalf, as much as it saddens me to say this. You have every right to hate us. Especially considering, we believed the rumors first, leaving no room for you to speak up and defend yourself. I didn't come to lecture you. And I won't run... because I am going to make you listen." --Neji
Pretty epic, isn't it? I am sorry, Neji is just the GOAT to me, and anything to make him and Sasuke spiritual broskies, I am here for that. Just visualize how adrenaline-driven their encounter would end up being, if you add the Bankakyo Byakugan into the mix. This is how Neji's Bankakyo would look like (source by Aleister Brown):
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And for context on what this eye gives Neji for busted abilities, which make him a more or less equal match to Sasuke, after he got Itachi's eyes implanted:
Left eye: Foresight (he can look 10 seconds into the future, to predict Sasuke's moves, before he could even pull them off)
Right eye: Timeskip (improves his Taijutsu, by basically freezing time all around himself, and teleporting, at anything his eyes can see for time)
And, to make it even, with the Bankakyo, you can even summon a chakra avatar, similar to the Susano'o called, Sarutakahiko, take a look:
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And because it's me, this is the music that plays in my mind, every time I am trying to visualize their fight, with these conditions being met:
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...and to end this thread on a more comical note, when I said, Sasuke's IQ lowers around Kiba, and I compared the two to Renji and Uryu, here is why. It's even more ironic when you consider, Uryu and Sasuke have the same seiyuu! Noriaki Sugiyama! Check it:
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OK, OK, enough with that. Have a nice day.
Peace.
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the-music-maniac · 1 day ago
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This is one that ended up way longer than I would've liked but the brainrot has reached concerning levels.
Brief mentions of sephgen, sephgeal, sephzack, multishipping, spoilers for crisis core, rebirth etc. etc.
I've begun realizing the longer I traverse the various pages of FF7 fanworks that when I say I ship Sefikura, the romantic/sexual aspects of it don't matter as much to me as the emotional catharsis of it. And I say this because I feel like sefikura is often used to explore one specific type of fantasy/smut/kink etc. There's a portion of people who like the ship because they like exploring how fucked up it is for post-nibelheim Seph to try to make Cloud into a puppet - this is usually (not always) accompanied by size difference kink, sub Cloud dom Seph, etc. And while I personally despise that characterization common in that interpretation of the ship, it's still valid, cause y'all should be able to explore your own fanfics however you want. An "Ew. Oh well, none of my business." kind of deal.
I would like to make it known though, that as a Sephiroth fan I kind of hate domroth. Block me if you must, we can just agree to disagree lol.
My interest in Sefikura stems mostly from Sephiroth. I'm gonna shamelessly admit here that while I love Cloud as a character, he doesn't intrigue me as much as Sephiroth does. And I know I'm biased cause he's my favourite, but I get easily stuck on characters who were abuse victims that became villains because they gave into their demons, characters who managed to stay kind, up until they were so beaten down they snapped, characters who I think have redemption potential, even if it wouldn't be easy to do. Which can be the case with Seph both pre- and post- Nibelheim.
Post-nibelheim is a LOT harder to write convincingly, seeing as how he actually did fuck up like. Everything. And his victims don't have to forgive him. Not Cloud either, even though I am writing a post about sefikura. The redemption is more about personal improvement, rather than forgiveness. But it's really interesting because a Sephiroth that even has a chance at redemption post insanity, is one who is a mix of before and after. He still has all that rage inside him from how he was treated by humanity, still has visions of annihilation and delusions of grandeur in his head, but he also remembers that he used to love, that he used to have companionship, scarce as it was, and cared for the well being of the soldiers he lead, etc. How does he get to that point in the first place, and how does he deal with it after? With the warring that is likely occurring from those two sides, the festering resentment of knowing he was given so much less than he should've been, knowing that he had a human mother, but since he IS closer in capability to a god than a human, does he think he's a monster because of his heritage still or because he gave in? Does it even matter at this point, what he is? And what will he do, now that he has a portion of his humanity back (however that occurred) and isn't just purely Jenova? How does he deal with knowing that even in the depths of insanity, he still just didn't want to be alone? And of course the turmoil on Cloud and Co's side, usually some flavour of, okay so repeatedly killing him isn't working, I'm tired of fighting him every couple of years, I still have the responsibility of making sure he doesn't fuck everything up again, and of course the hatred they understandably feel for the shit Sephiroth has done. And as Sephiroth kind of fights to recover some semblance of identity and understanding of himself (without destroying anything), watching that occur and knowing objectively that your enemy didn't deserve what he got when he was a child, that a part of what occurred was after he was pushed to that degree - even if you subjectively can't make yourself feel it at the beginning. And then as the story progresses and characters undergo development, Cloud likely wrestling with the fact that he actually is starting to understand Sephiroth's predicament, realizing Seph can be so very human at times. And dealing with the worst sin/betrayal of all, enjoying his company for his company's sake. A Sephiroth that gets through that and finds some semblance of contentment is meaningful because it would take a mind-boggling amount of hardship and work to get there. And tbh here's where the bias comes in - it's what I would say is a happy ending for everyone. I know people would disagree, a lot would say Cloud and Co getting rid of Seph is good riddance, why should he get a chance, why should they have to deal with him, etc. hence why I acknowledge this is biased - but a happy ending to me is one where everyone else gets to stop fighting Seph and move on with their lives and Sephiroth actually gets to live the life he wanted when he was a child. I won't ever be entirely satisfied with FF7 canon for this reason (true of any tragedy). Nothing that happened to him pre-insanity was fair. So. Catharsis.
As for "redemption" of pre-nibelheim Seph, I read time travel fix-its when it comes to sefikura cause I find it more interesting. For anything pre-insanity that involves canon divergence without time travel, sephgeal, sephgen, sephzack, shipping, platonic or poly makes more sense to me, cause those three are positioned better to help Sephiroth in a meaningful way. Also I personally do think Cloud is a little too young for that then (even if I'm also convinced he 100% had a celeb crush on Seph. Which is also not what Sephiroth needs at that point).
So, for sefikura, pre-nibelheim redemption usually involves Cloud getting yeeted back in time, either by the planet or by choice, to stop things before any of it happens. Cloud usually believes he has to kill Sephiroth, so he'd likely be in close proximity. So how would he deal with seeing, first hand, all the ways that Sephiroth was isolated and dehumanized in Shinra? Cloud still hates him at this point, for good reason. So he's here, witnessing not only Sephiroth being a kind/decent (awkward) human being, but also the lab visits, Hojo being Hojo, being paraded around for propaganda, the effect the "betrayal" of the other firsts likely had, Sephiroth being straight up depressed and malnourished and overworked, hearing whatever lies were fed to control him when he knows the truth. How does he deal with the moral repercussions of killing a technically innocent man? Especially when he realizes that a little support and compassion could've changed the outcome entirely? And Sephiroth on the other hand, now stuck with this persistent stranger that doesn't treat him like either an emotionless weapon or a legend, but some secret third thing (is he trying to kill him???? Can't tell, mixed signals are happening). Cloud would also likely help take Sephiroth's mind off things by virtue of existing - not because Sephiroth particularly cares about Cloud at the beginning (why would he, they're strangers) but because Cloud is fucking weird. Not a soldier, still mako enhanced, angry/aggressive at him in particular and seemingly frustrated about it, history that doesn't match up to current behaviours, etc. Hell, Shinra would likely even order Seph to keep an eye on Cloud. Meanwhile Cloud is desperately fucking with the timeline to ensure everything ends up differently, and accidentally becomes some sort of support for Sephiroth in the process. Because while everyone else was so fooled by the propaganda surrounding their hero, leaving him alone to his own devices (despair and depression), Cloud knows that his attention should be on Seph right now. And I don't think he's the type to just leave things alone out of spite if Seph where to, for example, stumble out of the lab, half delirious from Mako, because of one of Hojo's whims. There's also the question of whether Cloud would know to help with Angeal or Genesis' degradation, which could help either clear up some misunderstandings between Seph and his friends, or just ensure that Seph doesn't lose them at all in the first place.
And if Sephiroth were to find out/be told the truth, about his mother, or about the future, HOW is he gonna react to that???? Knowing that okay, so my heritage isn't actually that of a monster, I have human DNA, but ended up snapping and trying to destroy the world anyways - once again, what does it mean to be a monster, and is he one already, if he hasn't even done all of it yet, technically? In this timeline he's likely closer to Zack, maybe close to Cloud, potentially has met Aerith, maybe Genesis and Angeal are still alive, so he's more tethered by a support system, so how would that change his viewpoints? Would he feel guilty? Does that send him into a worse depression?
Sefikura just tends to give me emotional catharsis when it's written like that, because it gives Sephiroth the opportunity to mourn what he should've had, and gives him a fighting chance to change it. It's someone else being shown the decades of neglect, how deep the hypocrisy of Shinra actually went, the systemic abuse, acknowledging all of the bullshit Sephiroth went through before Nibelheim. It's him breaking out of other's expectations of him, Jenova, or Hojo or whoever else, and getting his childhood wish to just be normal. Like Angeal said (quoted loveless I think) "and what do angels dream of?" "Angels dream of becoming human."
This is also why I find very little enjoyment in reading domroth sefikura. Sephiroth isn't someone who reminds me of that type of personality, before he went crazy. He seems like a very awkward, calm and even sometimes soft dude in his downtime. He's literally just some guy. We don't see a lot of his personality because he was trained (tortured) into believing anything other than perfect control is weakness and failure. I don't think he would have any sexual experience. I think he's depressed, and exhausted and alone and is just very good at hiding it. I don't think he even wants or needs sexual intimacy necessarily, so much as he needs someone to feel safe around.
Anyways. This is. Way too long now. Goodbye.
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rahleeyah · 2 days ago
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I am so so intrigued by the alternative universe in which olivia fucks carisi. what are the vibes there (besides deeply unwell in a way that to me is deeply interesting and also hot). what's your vision?
Ah yes, the alternate universe in which Liv fucks Carisi.
So in the actual universe Amanda has picked a job that involves her traveling all the time, constantly away from home, leaving her husband alone with three children, one of whom is an infant, while he is in the midst of a full blown existential crisis about Being A Dad, where he sees danger lurking around every corner and is flipping out about protecting his kids.
All of that is actually happening, but in the alternate universe the characters acknowledge that this is happening. In the alternate universe Carisi admits his wife has abandoned their family after she promised him that she wanted to settle down and keep herself safe for their kids - he admits that he's lonesome and struggling and it's a bad thing that he isn't able to spend any time with his wife. That he spent what a decade pining for this woman and now that he's finally got her they're both miserable. But he's got these kids to take care of and really it was the kids he wanted most; he wanted to have a family he wanted to be a father and now he is and he's coping with his less than ideal circumstances but in the alternate universe he does at least admit that it's not ideal.
In the alternate universe Olivia allows herself to feel hurt by Amanda, instead of swallowing it all down. Amanda who ran away from her - just like Liv knew she would - Amanda who made her husband lie to Liv and hide the pregnancy from her, ducked Liv's calls for no reason other than that she just didn't seem to want to deal with Liv; in the alternate universe Liv lets herself say hey this is all a little fucked up.
In the canon universe and the alternate universe both it has been too long since Liv last saw Elliot and she's got to be wondering if she blew it. Maybe it's for the best that she blew it. She doesn't think she's allowed to have nice things, anyway.
So in the alternate universe, where Carisi and Liv have both the self respect and the self awareness to acknowledge the fuckedupedness of their situation, Carisi calls Liv for help. He's so tired. The baby's barely sleeping. The girls are bored and they miss their mom. Please help, Liv. Save me, Cap.
So Liv comes. Liv helps. Noah plays with Jesse (side bar it has always irked me that the show spells her name Jesse, which is generally accepted as the masculine spelling, instead of Jessie, which is commonly used for girls. Why did they do that) and Billie and they fall asleep. Liv cleans the kitchen, helps Carisi find some balance in the chaos. Nicky (funny, that, he'll think later, how Amanda said she wanted to name their son after Sonny, but somehow managed to name the baby after Amaro, instead) falls asleep, Liv and Carisi fall into the couch with their wine glasses.
At first it's just talking. Carisi cautiously admitting he doesn't like the set up with Amanda's new job but what's he gonna do, you know? Maybe there's a couple of nights, maybe at least once every time Amanda's out of town, where they talk like this. Start getting more and more honest. Both of them admitting that having the thing they always wanted isn't really everything it's cracked up to be.
I think I made a mistake, Carisi says, wondering if maybe he'd have been better off if he walked out of SVU ten years ago and met a nice girl who actually wants to be with him, who doesn't always have one foot out the door.
I think I made a mistake, Liv says, thinking about that night in her kitchen with Elliot, wondering if that was the last chance she's ever gonna get to kiss him. Maybe she should've just done it. Maybe -
They're sad, they're lonesome, they both need something to hold on to. Liv's technically single and Carisi might as well be, he's getting so little time with his wife. They're just sad, really, all the way down to their bones, and it's about comfort, more than anything else. They both just want to hold someone; they both just want to be held. They never speak of it in the daylight. In the daylight they work as well together as they ever have, and never give anything away. At night they cling to each other, whisper secrets in the dark. They don't really want each other; they both know they're just placeholders. Waiting for the ones they love to come back to them. If they ever do.
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creepyscritches · 10 hours ago
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Like, I grew up with a single parent who went MILES beyond expectations to secure me medical care and it was a horrible, demeaning process at every step! You could NOT "good behavior" your way to the system working. There were countless moving finish lines and a faceless wall of state insurance that did not care how often or how high they asked you to jump.
My father was not interested in paying for my health insurance after he dropped my mother and me like hot stones. So my mother did not have many choices when it became clear I was not well. I spent most of my early life undiagnosed and severely decompensated and, you guessed it, extremely suicidal. It wasn't until I was 26 or 27 that I experienced a day without pain, and I fought my way there the entire time.
I managed to graduate high school with honors, cords for the art honor society, and with all of my college-level English knocked out my senior year through dual-enrollement. I also taught intro level art at the high school, student-taught art at the middle school, student tutored trigonometry, and spent my remaining time in the art rooms completing the soldering on a giant stained glass installment we made for the school. Through this time, I also learned as many art techniques as I could (film photography and lost wax sculpture being my favorites). I also worked most holidays and school breaks in a kennel, spending 12 hour shifts handling non-social dogs.
By senior year, I was stashing coffee throughout my destinations each day. I was so tired I couldn't sit up. My body hurt, but doctors we could see would simply brush me off as a lazy teenager. I had a tumor under my tongue that kept returning and becoming more expensive to address. I had to lose a rear molar due to infection that eroded my jaw bone -- it took 2 years for the bone to regrow before I could entertain any options of replacing the tooth. I am 15. I am 16. I am 17.
I am 18. Despite having no money, I finally get some payoff for my efforts. I am awarded a full ride scholarship, I even get enough money back each semester to fully cover my books. I have to work a campus job as a part of the agreement and I spend 6hrs a week manning the liberal arts front desk between my +12hrs of classes. That's fine. I knew I was never going to have an easy road to education. I join the honors college and place my science + language credits there. My 7pm biology lab is the only reason I did not work my second job one day a week.
I am 18. I am working. I am learning. I am extremely ill but have been conditioned to call myself lazy, unmotivated, and the reason for my failures. I am not ill, not to me. I am 18. I work an overnight, 16 hour shift for Black Friday. I do not see family this year. My tumor returns. I quit my second job in December because I could not talk to customers after surgery. The doctor tells me I will have a scar as long as my jaw if it returns again.
I am 18. I am in pieces. My partner breaks up with me because I do not give them enough attention. I work until 10pm every day and spend the preceding 12 hours in rigorous college courses. Every day but my 7pm Biology lab, but I am too tired to spend time with someone that day. I do not have room in me to care about this now too. I finish my second semester and do not return. I cannot move my body and I cannot get accommodations because I cannot afford a diagnosis. I leave the full ride behind.
I am 19. I am supporting myself with freelance art. My body suffers deeply for this. I cannot get care. I find a chiropractor who will see me for $50 a visit and she saves me from killing myself if I'm honest. I begin teaching myself the ICD-9. I get certified and get a job the same month as my certification.
I am 20. I have moved out, my mother was moving as well. I am working, still sick. I cannot get care anywhere now as I am over 18, under 26, but my parent with insurance will not cover me. I work at my job for a year before I am fired for health complications. As a contractor, I did not get benefits or protections. This is just the way it is, they explain to me.
I am 21. I have picked up a new job, still contract over a year in despite the promise of full-time after 8 months. The job holds my insurance over my head like a carrot. I start to lose motion in my left arm. Pain now wakes me up on a nightly basis. I threaten to quit, they transition me from "external" to "internal" contractor. No benefits.
I am 21. I have forced my employer to hire me full-time. I am paid significantly less than my peers, despite experience. I get benefits. I pay $4000 out of pocket, but get my first diagnosis of narcolepsy. I do not get adequate medication until 4 years later.
I am 22. Physical therapy had been trying to fix my left arm, but things keep worsening. I receive a couple of painful steroid injections over my ulnar nerve (between the elbow). These do not work, so I am brought in for an ultrasound guided injection where the needle is woven between my bones and nurses physically hold me in place per protocol. This does nothing, but it is one of the most agonizing procedures I have ever had. I am rushed into a rheumatologist's roster after lesions in my bone marrow are found on MRI. The MRI took 3 attempts over a month as the pose required would reduce me to delirious levels of pain.
I am 22. I am told I have an autoimmune disease that has been running rampant for years. I begin oral chemotherapy. I vomit constantly. I do not improve. My doctor does not believe me when I say I cannot tolerate this medication. I do not get a name for my diagnosis, no matter how I press. I have multiple conditions submitted to insurance, but my doctor claims it is to get the different medications covered.
I am 27. I am accepted into Vanderbilt's cutting edge rheumatology department. I have SLE and my previous doctor's regimen had been consistently worsening my baseline condition. I am $15,000 in debt for medicine that ultimately was poisoning me.
I am 29 now. I have a body for the first time in my life. The opportunities I have now are unbelievable. The opportunities I missed are devastating. My body and health have been used as bartering chips my entire life. I am a "lucky" outcome. I cannot swallow this pill that this is the only way people can live here. No one will be demeaned like I was if I have any control over it. I will never minimize the incredible change the ACA brought to everyone here.
I cannot stress enough that the gap between "better than nothing insurance" and "no healthcare at all" is literally one big enough for your coffin. That is unacceptable, I refuse this. The only reason I have been motivated to learn the bureaucratic bullshit required for American health care is to shovel this gap closed, one shovel of dirt at a time. YEAH, I would love to be a middle school art teacher but I think I have been changed too much from these experiences to walk away from the state of American health care.
I find talent to help me and I protect it, elevate it, and encourage it to multiply. I have a mentor helping me do the same. I am learning the ACA industry still, mostly to identify problem points around me. I am 29, I am building like-minded spaces around me. I refuse to see another generation live like mine and those before. Sign up for the ACA.
Growing up pre-ACA radicalized me soooo much lol like I will not pander to arguments that deprioritize access to medical care at all as an adult
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amberwings · 10 months ago
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I… feel… like… a… little… zombie!!!
#get ready for a vent… oh boy this will be fun to look back on#i am so tired of being the one who cares more or at all#it is a particular hell to get attached to someone who is incredibly emotionally unavailable#especially when said person made it seem like they were romantic and emotionally available in the beginning#and then u felt crazy for questioning them when all long they never planned on actually wanting anything with you#I have wasted so much time but can’t stop somehow#I just don’t care about other people the way I do for this person whyyyyyyyyy did this have to be how it was#he cares so much about his friends and work and family and just does not feel the way I do#I keep hoping he does deep down but I’m afraid to say it just doesn’t seem like it anymore#who invites someone over then tells them right before bed they have to leave at 9 or 9:30 for breakfast with their friends#after I took the freezing ass metro for him!! and he only invited me last minute cause he decided not to go out with friends cause the cold#like what on earth how did I end up in this????? this is not how it’s supposed to be#and I feel a little sorry for him that he can’t let himself experience something intimate and great he is emotionally shallow#i never would’ve imagined this is how it would be…#I never ever vent ever but I just can’t stop talking about it or this sadness will eat me from inside#I even told my mom!!!#im sick of this…#maybe one day he will regret it but maybe not he is so apathetic it’s so frustrating#it just hurts so much to see that someone you thought you were close to does not value you the same way or appreciate you very much#he meant/means so much to me and now I see I just don’t mean much to him#he doesn’t want to commit to anything and said I’m his friend after leading me on for a LONG time#i turned down other people for him cause he just kept making it sound like once __ happened he’d be ready for a relationship#i was so hopeful :(
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bunnyboy-juice · 4 months ago
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NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???
#personal#i am emotional yes#over the years ive had this blog I've made a few posts abt being femme#nd whether they're serious or jokey..... inevitably someone in the tags goes “ohhh yeah bc pink”#or in the case of what inspired this post: someone going “what about the pink ones” on my praying mantis post#and im just.#sick of it. im sick of femme being equated to pink and frilly girlie behaviors.#im sick of femme being equated to skirts and heels. to makeup. to skincare. to pristine nails exactly almond shaped.#im sick of ppl acting like All femmes aspire to this shit. im sick of femms being reduced to this shit.#and i love pink! i love pink! my phone theme is quite literally just black and pink all over.#im just. so tired of any expression of Femme identity being shoehorned into being a Specific type of femininity#especially as someone who DOES get dysphoric wearing skirts. wearing dresses. embodying the femme aesthetic yall are so set on making#if u guys wanna rb this i truly dont care#i just needed to scream#and this is one small thing#but the 2nd largest category of anon hate i have gotten since making this blog is str8 up homophobia from other “queer” folks#saying i cant be femme bc of how i present. calling me slurs (and using them as such) bc they cant understand femme as anything but that#my wife and i have our users in our personal discord server set as 2 different things of anon hate ive gotten#i have had OTHER FEMMES tell me i am not femme. femmes who Know im femme who still call me butch. femmes who ive corrected and been blocked#-by bc of it. the number 1 largest demographic of queerfolk who have me blocked rn is TME femmes who embody pink also#and i dont think its a coincidence at all. (and i know this bc i go to try and follow these ppl bc they get rbed on my dash & i cant)#and ik their blogs arent deleted bc some of them don't block my wife (tall. white. butch) and it cant be politics cause her and i rb#a lot of the same political shit (fuck. i think she rbs More than i do even. this is genuinely mainly a nsft blog)#and usually i don't say anything but im having a bad day so i get to be angry about this and if anyone fucking tries me i will block u#idc if we've been mutuals 4ever. im judt so tired of feeling like i am not Enough as a femme bc i dont embody this shit#im sick of this lameass lip service to he/him gnc femmes etc when the thin white 50s housewife femme is still what is preferred and loved#im sick of this lamesss lip service when y'all feel entitled to theorizing on other femmes genders bc u cant conceptualize a femme who does#wanna be hypetfeminine. im sick of it. im sick of it. im sick of it.#celebrity bun
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turtleblogatlast · 8 months ago
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Don’t think I ever quite said what my LGBTQ+ headcanons are for the boys, so these are my current thoughts! Always changing of course but this is what I feel most strongly right now.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt headcanons#rise donnie#rise leo#rise mikey#rise raph#donnie and leo’s sexualities being practically swapped was unintentional but it works way too well#same with mikey and raph tbh it was a happy accident#anyway I kinda hc raph as the type who doesn’t care about physical appearance just if you fight lol#Mikey’s more than happy with friends and family#Donnie is a BIG romantic but he needs time to sus a person out fully before he gets the hots for them#leo meanwhile isn’t keen on romance unless it’s with someone he grows to really really REALLY trust#I could go on and probably will later (knowing me) but it is late and I am tired haha#turtle art tag#curious as to what everyone else headcanons#the only one of these I’ll defend forever is Bi (female-leaning) donnie and trans leo#all the others can change over time but I really like where they’re sitting right now#I hope these are the right flags too because it was kinda hard to find them#went looking for transmasc flag in particular but I couldn’t find a solid agreed upon version 😭#ngl a big part of why I hc mikey as aro is because of a pun#my phone often misspells aromantic as aromatic and- and you get it- because aromatic herbs and- and Mikey is a chef do YOU GET IT#note that while I hc leo as bisexual (male-leaning) I still think he’s prob closer to demi in that as well just not as far into the spectrum#if that makes sense#headcanons are fun and hard to narrow down at the same time alas#I made this in like an hour can you tell djjdjd#I drew them all from memory so if there’s anything wrong…shhh#and if you’re wondering for April and Splinter#Both are Bisexual (female-leaning) but April is also Panromantic#I almost wanna make Splinter demiromantic too so Big Mama’s betrayal hits just a bit harder
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spotaus · 1 day ago
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YEAHHHH!!!!!! >:D
Ancha I am SO glad you liked it because. Ough. I started writing it at like 11 at night and just. Kept going??? I was so so pumped!!!
I'm gonna try and follow where you went with the ideas, gimme a sec-
Okay so, yeah! Nightmare, at this point, views the training has his relax time! Kinda how someone can spend all their time doing work, say writing reports, and still enjoy writing stories in their free time! It still challenges him and interests him, but it's in a way with low stress. His knights can improve inch by inch now that their foundation is stable! And the training room is one of the most secure rooms in the castle, thanks to reinforcing it to withstand magic attacks!
And I really really wanted to take on idea of each of the guy's strengths! You got it perfectly so I'll try not to linger, but I kinda wanted to run off that original idea I had for the Knights knowing eachother and being in sync, but now it's more fitting to their personalities since I've gone into more depth with them! Killer has greatly influenced the others, in the way they fight and the way they act on the battlefield. It's like setting loose a feral animal on all these Knights who are Not Ready for dirty fighting. (Dust was used to diplomatic scuffles gone wrong, usually with the use of enchanted weaponry, Horror just. Did not fight prior to this. Abd Cross, as mentioned, was a muscle-memiry routine combat kinda guy!) And in the same breath, Killer learned from them too! Night might be their mentor, but Killer was committed to being a good influence on them, even if it didn't register to any of them-
A lot of that was also me trying to get a grip on how they'd behave in such a space alone with Night. Killer the most relaxed, Cross the most nervous, etc! And the little banter between them was fun!! (I also was trying to use technique I learned recently so combat reflection was a good opportunity for it, haha!)
One of my favorite bits in the beginning I think was, like you mentioned, Nightmare making sure they left training on a high note! I took the idea from your Q&A drabble actually, when u mentioned Night looking for ways to better keep hold of his knights? Yeah, he ensures to be even more vocal about what he noticed everyone doing well, just so they know! And Cross takes the praise the best visually, but he can tell the others at least seem pleased by it <3
Lastly!!! Yes, the bed-time was meant to be sorta a hint to the incoming turn of events, but it's also just meant to be a cute lil cameo too!! I think a few things never quite left his habits (like, his body getting more tired around Bedtime even though he regularly skipped sleep all together anymore) because. Y'know! Adult body still has Kid Night in there running the show! And because of the weird suspended state of his mind, it left him with odd quirks!
Okay, okay, hearing that you enjoyed the drama bit makes me SO happy, because this time I wanted to go with sonething that felt a bit more Nightmare-accurate. Night was always a quiet kid, a fawn rather than fight or flight, he kept his emotions tight to his chest because so few people cared in the first place. So, when his magic (the thing that made his moves for him, before he could freeze up or downplay or smother his feelings) Leaves? He's exhausted, and confused, and scared, and frankly out of it. He fawns again!
And the magic leaving, this time I wanted it to feel like it was in a moment of lull, no tension, no stakes (aside from a stinky Killer) and no sign for Night that anything was wrong. It all just dipped at once, and as it left his awareness it left him dizzy, disoriented, and!!!! I'm glad that you caught that he couldn't feel anything because the magic refused to work with him anymore!!! So the normal input didn't transfer to him!!! That weird lack of senses was also sort of my excuse to let the Knights start freaking out! Because idk how clear it was (intentionally not very if I did my job right lol-) but when Night's balance starts to screw up, Killer turns around. But it's Night initially who reaches out and grabs his arm, and then Killer has indirect permission to support his weight further and grab hold of him! Night subconsciously reached out to Killer, even if he didn't realize it in the moment. And ofc that's Killer being like 'oh that's not normal'.
And!!! Like in the og drabble, Dust goes on high alert immediately, but this time Cross and Horror hesitate! There's a part that Nightmare misses where Horror expresses worry and suggests he should grab the first aid and take a look, and Killer tells him no. Because Night (in that moment) is unresponsive, and Killer doesn't think Horror coukd help even if he tried. He might make it worse. And Horror tries to press his offer, before Night comes-to again to hear Killer snap at Horror to get Ccino! And like you said, Killer has no idea what's happening, but he's sure if anyone could help it would be Ccino! And in the meantime he just tries to keep Nightmare close, keep him steady. He doesn't like it one bit, but he knows he has to keep watch because Dust doesn't sense/see anyone, and Cross doesn't either as he guards the door!
And, ofc, Killer was horrified to find what was basically a babybones in his arms when all the goop left, but he was also shaken because. Well. That's the Prince from the tapestry. Night doesn't make the connection, but he'd seen images of Nightmare a few times, abd certainly images of his twin, enough to recognize that. Yeah. That's the same guy. And he can't explain it, but since Dust chimes in with magic loss, Killer makes some leaps in judgement. (Also!!! Dust isn't good with magic usually, but Nightmare's was so impressive it was always looming. The moment it was gone he spoke up. He's also OBNOXIOUSLY familiar with symptoms of magic loss. For. Obvious reasons 🙏)
Nightmare, in his fawning, couldn't decide whether the voice in his head reminding him that these Knights were kind, loyal souls was right, or if the instincts telling him to get away NOW were winning. He compromised in the firm of 'can't really move anyways so I'll sit here and be scared'.
And!!!!! I'm glad u liked Killer telling Cross to hold onto the magic! Killer's smart, and a fast thinker, and Cross was the nearest thing with any chance if keeping his king from??? Melting??? And to Cross' credit he DID grab it! He did great! (He feels awful about it after because from what *he* saw, it didn't help. It did! He just doesn't know!)
And. Ccino's piece in this was probably the part I was least certain on. Because Ccino assumed the Knights somehow set Nightmare into one of his worse episodes. Or, worse, he worried Night accidentally hurt one of the Knights and panicked. Horror was pretty vague about why he needed to hurry. And Ccino gets there and- well.
He hasn't seen that little skull in seven years, and it's got a big crack, and it's trembling, and one big eyelight is looking up at him. Nightmare was always his little brother, and yet all at once his instincts kicked back in. This was no powerful bomb waiting to be nudged just too far before exploding, not some otherworldly tyrant. This was his Nighty, somehow back to the way he was the day he protected his twin and swore into the prophecy. This was HIS Nighty.
So, for the first time in a while he drops pretenses. There's no effort to hide him away, Ccino knows well enough that trying to remove Nightmare from the Knight's vision right now would possibly get them both in hot water. So he does what he can, throws open his arms, and coddled his little brother tightly. So, so tightly. He has no idea how, or why, and obviously it's the same Night who'd spent the morning writing laws, but it was so surreal that he just had to get him close!!!!!
And Night, yeah, he just feels safe with Ccino, and irrational mind running off of a huge magic-drop? He deemed Ccino's arms a perfect place to shed some tears and then pass out-
If I had to do a follow-up it'd definitely be either a Ccino or Killer chapter following either the moment Night is free of the goop (Killer) or the moment he enters the training room (Ccino) and then the conversational aftermath! (I also think they move the whole party to Nightmare's room eventually, and somewhere along the line Dust brings up that lighter foods might help-) just lil silly details haha! But it's basically a force of nature making the Knights and Ccino agree to a pact of sorts just to agree to help Nightmare. He's still the king. He's just... young now. Again.
Okay I got a lil wild but- I'm just so so happy you enjoyed it!!! A healthy balance if shenanigans for the boys, panic for Nightmare, and an unexpected surprise for Ccino!!!!
New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)
Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!
(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)
   The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.
   Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?
   The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.
   So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.
   These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.
   His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.
   A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.
   Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.
   It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.
   Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.
   He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.
   "On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.
   Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.
   They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.
   He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.
   It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.
   Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.
   "Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.
   Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.
   "Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."
   "Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.
   That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.
   "If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.
   He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.
   Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.
   "Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.
   Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.
   "I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."
   Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.
   As far as he knew, he never did.
   "You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.
  
   "Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.
   Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.
   He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.
   Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.
   And...
   He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?
   It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.
   His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.
   The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.
   Why?
   His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.
   It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.
   The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?
   "Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."
   Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?
   No, it wasn't them.
   "Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."
   For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-
   "What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.
   Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.
   "Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.
   The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.
   "W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.
   "Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."
   Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.
   He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.
   Nightmare gagged.
   Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.
   For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.
   And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.
   It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.
   Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.
    It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.
   "My king?"
   Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.
   Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.
   He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-
   He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.
  
   "Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.
   Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.
   "My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.
   "Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.
   It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...
   He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.
   Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
  
   "What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.
   "We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."
   Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.
   As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.
   Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.
   "Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.
   Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.
   For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.
   Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.
   Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.
   At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.
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transmaverique · 4 months ago
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amab and afab, if they were used as shorthand for the actual full phrases that they signify, with emphasis on the "assigned" part, and an understanding that they are enforcements of normative (ie, dyadic and cisgender and binary) sex, would be like. really useful. but people took the terms and started using them as shorthand FOR normative sex instead of the ENFORCEMENT OF normative sex. so when other trans people (almost always dyadic trans people) ask for your agab they are almost always asking for your Original Genital Situation. your starting point, so to say. and the reason FOR asking is also almost always bc they are trying to also enforce a certain kind of normativity within queer spaces (which is stupid bc being queer is inherently non-normative but here we are). like, you cant be a lesbian if you're ftm, bc you ARE m, so if you ARE a lesbian, then that means you're lying about some aspect of your identity. does that make sense?
it is always always always incredibly.... i do not trust dyadic trans people that use cagab terms, even moreso than i do not trust dyadic trans people that just use agab terms. agab is also coopted intersex language, but the "coercive" part of cagab SPECIFICALLY refers to medical "intervention" of intersex characteristics, such as "corrective" surgeries and hrt. i am deeply fucking suspicious of any dyadic trans person that uses those terms exactly the same as described above, even moreso if they do so bc "all gender is coercive".
like. yeah. that's true. but you use these terms to erase and overtake intersex discussions on the medical abuse of intersex infants. and i cant help but wonder why you would feel the need to do that.
#iirc it was also common to tirf ideology and the baeddel group#< notoriously intersexist group#to say nothing of any other tirf beliefs#both of these misuses of agab and cagab come from the same source#but it is . deeply disconcerting with cagab#bc its like. that is such a lesser known term in the greater dyadic trans community#you would HAVE to have known what it originally meant#either YOU are misusing it INTENTIONALLY#or someone TAUGHT you to misuse it INTENTIONALLY#people that are cruel and bigoted always want to believe theyre good people#so its hard to convince them when they are being bigoted#esp as marginalized people#and especially as a marginalized people that is particularly affected by the same enforcement of normative sex#the more i learned about this the more i learned abt intersexism in trans spaces#the more i notice it. its so fucking pervasive#and like u should care abt intersexism on its own but its like#no surprise that the ppl misusing cagab terms usually are transandrophobic (as the discourse du jour) and exorsexist#these things go together and reinforce each other#anyways it sucks bc ill see a BEAUTIFULLY written analysis of transmisogyny but so often there will be#like one thing. two things maybe.#and ill go to ops blog search a few keywords and lo and behold#they are transphobic. they are intersexist. they are racist. they are aphobic.#all forms of exclusionist politic in the queer community just lead into each other ad infinitum#nauseating... and#i will read the theory of people who disgust me or who are fundamentally wrong abt other ppls experiences bc i think they still have#valuable things to say but i am SO FUCKING TIRED of running into the same goddamn problem EVERY fucking time#i think its just the posts that get circulated the most that are like that#bc i think the majority of people dont actively seek out and learn abt new queer theory as it rolls in#or other ppls experiences in general#so they dont learnt to recognize the red flags or even realize why its bad in the first place
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soullessjack · 7 months ago
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this isnt rlly a serious post more so than a thought I need to verbalize but like. there’s an INSANE difference between the fandom being like “hey what if jack was actually his age and got to be a little normal” vs y’all treating a grown ass man like he has to cover his ears when someone swears or sleep with a nightlight on because he’s afraid of the dark, and throwing the P word around to anyone who thinks he’s attractive. one of these things is not like the other.
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meowsticmarvels · 3 months ago
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i think i mightve talked abt this a bit in my longpost about how insane phi as a character is to me but yknow what i really wanna point out? all the nonary game shit she has to go through happens in really quick succession to her - she doesn't really get a proper "break" in between VLR and ZTD for her mentally. junpei and akane at least have about a year between the two, and sigma has 45 years (not that either of those situations were particularly good either though, looking at how sigma and junpei especially turned out, and sigma spent years WORKING on the AB game, just not participating in it). but for phi? she has a matter of DAYS in between the two. the time sigma spends she spends in cold sleep, so mentally to her, her consciousness goes from the events of VLR's phi end to DCOM almost instantly. dcom only ends up lasting for about 5 days, and even then the prologue states that phi/sigma/akane spent most of it worrying about radical-6 and the future + the flashback with diana shows phi is just so Tired after everything after just that. and then the decision game happens. my point is just that i cannot imagine being in a death game like that (not to mention everyone had radical-6, so she went from a body that Did have it to one that didn't, which i can imagine would probably a pretty weird experience considering one of its symptoms is messing up your perception of time. and also she was on the moon.), spending 5 days like god how did the apocalypse start i can't let it happen this time and then being in Another death game that is much more gruesome and violent. not to mention both of them in a way HAD to happen because of her (2074 nonary game bc it needed to train sigma and phi's SHIFTing abilities to a good enough degree and decision game one of the reasons was to ensure she and delta were born). in summary: i would fucking die at that point if i was phi dealing with that All At Once. in the span of a few days. and with the memories of my + others' deaths. what the fuck
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acourtofquestions · 29 days ago
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Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:
She'd rebuild it—what she had been.
Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.
Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."
"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.
"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."
"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.
Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.
Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.
At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.
In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.
She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.
Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."
A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.
She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."
Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."
"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."
Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.
"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."
"I do know."
"And?"
"And what do you wish me to say?"
She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"
"If what?"
"If you wish it wasn't so."
His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"
She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.
It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.
"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."
She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.
"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."
She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"
"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."
"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."
"Then it is her choice, not yours."
Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."
"What did she show you?" A breathless question.
Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."
She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."
His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"
She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.
Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."
She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.
"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.
"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."
A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"
"We'll face it together," he swore again.
"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.
Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."
"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."
She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.
"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."
She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.
She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"
"I thought you might want to be asked first."
"That never stopped you before."
"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.
She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."
He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.
"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."
The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.
"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.
Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.
Together.
#Chapter 41#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Aelin Galathynius#Rowan Whitethorn#Rowaelin#soulmates#mates#spoilers and notes in tags cause this chapter and also spoilers in post cause this chapter first read react with me read along#Rowaelin chapters scenes moments quotes#they want to make it possible bring that love to light#am I allowed to cry? — Again the word endured — finally the dream — the sand she still sees — he’s magic being steady — them talking time#again if Maeve could convince Rowan Lyria was his mate how bad was it when she convinced Aelin her actual mate was dead… this hurts me…#the fact Aelin stopped being useful because it destroyed her beyond belief but the dreams the dreams almost got her because its all she wan#again then both feeling sorry and the other not realizing and then consent and then comfort and love & I just wanted it2be U how could I no#I know you are tired Fireheart (ALL THE TROPES IN ONE LINE… UGH I MISSED THIS SHIP)#together. one soul in two bodies. their endgame like literally they are. I’d choose you too. even the apologies that were needed just heali#what it might have once been — together — not alone — not returning alone — the king and queen of Terrasen — I need u more — 2 whatever end#Aelin watched the boat until it disappeared trying not to stare too long at the clean unstained sand beneath her boots#always north — she didn’t care she just wanted far away — who knew — what she knew-the letters she sent-Valg-dark blood that had turned red#If it had been another dreamscape or some fragment that had blended into the very real memory of Connall's death. — always a plab&theory#all these things to deal with later-she’d rebuild all she had been-her match helper mirror-matched his piercing stare with her own-wait/res#A far cry from a queen's chamber or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin. — how far we’ve come-she had ENDURED she can do it#I'm your mate she said needing to voice it. And you are mine. — Lyria. — I do know. and?&what do you wish me to say?-this was perfect#If what? If you wish it wasn't so. His brows narrowed. Why would I ever wish that? — Aelin. she looked at him at the pain in his words#the way it's changed since Mistward... and grown... even in names like Whitethorn Galathynius together — the brain thoughts are back —#The kiss was gentle-light. Letting her decide how to guide it. So she did. — he’d do it all night if that was what’s he wished#Together we'll find a way their mingling breaths the crashing sea seemed to echo. Together. — mountains and oceans#Might’ve been before-thought snapped-the bond- u r my mate&I am urs-the world might have been burning for all she cared all he cared too#Together they would face this together they would find a way. — claiming him as he claimed her — a scar a marker a tattoo
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