#i hate that everyone else in the adult world seems to have their emotions on lock down

[erasedcitizen2]

I cried at work today during a work meeting and I'm so embarrassed about it fUCK

[rosenclaws]

Erased || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You are a powerful mutant with powers you hated. They ruined your life and it led you down paths you weren't proud of. Things changed and now you lived happily with Logan. Until your past seems to come back to ruin everything

warnings: angst. traumatic childhood, brief mentions of torture.

wc: 2.7k

Link to part 2

a/n: Hi guys, so this is kind of the you get hurt and he goes feral fic but i've combined it with this other wip i had laying around. I talked a lot about wanting more angst and tw death (my grandmother passed last night) so ive been in this weird state of sadness that i'm repressing. Either way i wrote a fic so there's that lol. I will def have a part 2 btw so don't worry.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you can remember your childhood. What it was like before your, gift, appeared and ruined everything. How your family loved you, how your friends welcomed you, how the world didn’t hate you. Everything was perfect.

Until the day it appeared. All you did was touch her arm. That’s all you did. An argument with your mother, silence, and then you touched her arm to try and apologize and next thing you knew she was asking who you were. Yelling at you to get out of her house. You cried not understanding what was happening.

She looked at you with nothing but confusion. Not even a hint of recognition. Then your father came home and you ran into his arms. Afraid and distraught when he pushed you off him. The same look in his eyes. Who are you? They threw you out, threatened to call the cops. They left you all alone, afraid, and confused.

It didn’t take long for you to understand. A mutant. You had heard of mutants but never thought you could be one. A mutant with a powerful ability. Memory manipulation. You could alter memories, dive into someone's deepest fears, their secrets, and even erase anything from heads. In a single moment their whole lives could be changed. It was a dangerous power and you wanted nothing to do with it.

For years you lived on the road. Keeping yourself moving, stealing when you needed to. Never getting too attached to one place, to anyone. You were alone.

Then one day some people found you. Dressed in stupid costumes. Still they took you in. Gave you a home, fed you, trained you. You grew up there. From teen to adult. Charles was kind and you don't think you could ever repay him for all that he's done. Your powers were strong but he taught you to control your emotions.

Still you tried to stay a safe distance away from people. Not just physically but emotionally. The nightmares of your parents haunt you everyday. They're nice. All of them are. The kids loved you and you enjoyed the mansion.

Still when the team invited you out you declined, when the kids wanted to crowd you during dinner you politely excused yourself to your office. You didn't go to parties, you didn't celebrate the holidays with them. You were just you, a nice, safe distance away from them. Then your world got flipped upside down.

The day Logan rolled into the mansion. He was mean and angry. He had that "I don't like being around people" kind of vibe but he stuck around. Ended up becoming more apart of the team than he wanted. And he liked it.

Logan was the first one to really break down your walls. Just like everyone else you stayed away from him. Smiling and greeting him but never going past that. Maybe that's what drew him to you. You were a mystery who smelled like vanilla. It was your perfume. He would try to flirt but he got nowhere. Eventually he gave up the flirting but his interest stayed. He find ways to talk to you, getting bits and pieces of information from you.

You quickly learned he was just like you in some ways. Guarded, a past life that you don't want to talk about, loners. Somehow in all of it, as he stayed at the mansion and grew to become part of this family, he wormed his way into your heart too. Just too loners who found out that being alone together is better than being lonely.

As time passed, your relationship with Logan evolved into something you never imagined you would experience. Love. You never let yourself feel this way, too afraid that you would do the same thing to them. That you would get close, build this connection, make these memories, only for it all to come crashing down with just a single touch. These memories are precious to you. Every single one of them.

You remember the day your feelings were revealed. Both of you desperate, afraid of what they meant, but neither of you could lose each other. It was the cure. Some company had found a way to suppress the gene. The moment you heard about it you were intrigued. Your mutation wasn't fun. It didn't let you control the weather or turn things to ice. You couldn't touch people. Just like rouge you were at risk for destroying someone's whole life.

Even with the years of lessons you weren't fully in control. You never let yourself try. Logan could see it in your eyes. The confrontation wasn't pretty.

It was anger at first, wondering how you could even consider that. Then it was anger from you, years of pent up feelings releasing all at once. The fighting turned into a deep confession. An intimate moment between the two of you. He cared for you in a way that scared the shit out of him. He couldn't say the words yet but he felt them. You felt the same way but just like Logan. Something was holding you back from saying those three words.

Still you showed your love to each other in other ways. You always let him know how much you cared for him. The words died on your tongue but he knew. You hope he did.

Logan bought you a necklace. Didn't make a big deal of it but you could see the blush on his face. Tossing you the box and mumbling something about him seeing it and thinking of you. It was gorgeous. Just a simple heart necklace with two sparkling stones. One for him and one for you.

Even if you couldn't touch he wanted apart of him to be with you. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. You had Logan. You had the team, the mansion. For once you felt like your life was falling into place.

Apparently the universe didn't like that. Charles had called the team in for an important mission. You weren't on the team due to your own choosing so when Logan came back to bed he started to talk.

"Yeah some rogue mutants. Bunch of assholes who enjoy torturing humans." He grumbled as he threw his jacket on. Fixing his hair in the mirror as you sit on the bed. You're doing everything you can to stay calm, to not set off Logan's super senses.

"Some guy named Mack is their leader. Guess he's got some illusion powers or something." Logan says it all like its nothing. To him it is nothing. Just another mission. To you though, it's the beginning of the end.

"Don't know who in their right mind would do shit like that. Just a bunch of low life idiots." He spits. You wince at his harsh tone. He notices your silence and glances over at you. You're practically frozen in place. An unreadable look in your eyes.

"You alright?" Logan moves to touch your arm but you jerk it away.

"Yeah sorry, just had another nightmare last night." You lie. Logan looks at you strangely before sitting on the bed. His hand intertwining with your gloved one.

"Though I told you to wake me up." You snort and roll your eyes playfully. "And I told you the same thing." You counter. He smirks, you have him there. Part of why you go so well together.

"I'll wake you next time, I promise." There's a loud knock at the door and Logan grumbles.

"Promised some dumb kids I'd take them to the mall. Storm promised me a six pack of beer." After saying goodbye you let your smile fall.

This couldn't be happening. You thought you were finally safe, this was years ago. How could they still be around. Before Charles had found you, you were involved with this group. You weren't proud if it but you were hungry and afraid and they found you. Mutants just like you. They weren't afraid of you. In fact they were in awe of you, something you had never felt before.

You fell into their group, participating in the horrible things they'd do. You never did anything yourself. You were clean up crew. Wiping memories of anyone who saw something they weren't supposed to. Still, you enabled it all. When you finally left, it wasn't easy. You had tried to erase their memories but for some reason they could block you. You got away but they swore one day they'd come back for you. You were one of them forever now. No one would understand, no one would forgive you. You were a monster just like them.

Your mind runs a mile a minute. Thinking of everyone in the mansion. The team. Storm, Jean, Scott, Rouge...everyone.

Logan, oh god Logan.

Would he understand? He would have to. He's just like you. He did things in his past. He was violent, angry, a survivor. He never claimed to be a hero. But that doubt swirls in your mind. Fear overtakes any rational thought. You know what you have to do.

This was your fight, not theirs. You could stop them, you needed to finish what you started. Grabbing your wrinkled old backpack you stuff clothes, money, and any essentials inside of it. You had to move quick before any of the mind readers got a hint of what you were thinking.

Especially Charles. You barely had time to think about this but the fear was creeping into your mind. Poisoning it. It's better this way. It's safer this way. They've done so much for you that you owe it to them to help. You're protecting them. All of them. Logan included.

You held on tightly to the necklace he had given you. Tucking it in your shirt as you leave the room. You smiled as you walked through the halls. Saying hello to those who passed by. By the time you were at the front doors you felt a pull to keep you here.

Deep down you didn't want to leave. Of course you didn't. But you overcome the pull and walk through the doors. Refusing to look back as the mansion grows smaller in the distance. You walked for hours. Your feet aching as you finally reached some rinky dink motel. The room is depressing but for now it's home. Curling up on the bed you bury your face in the pillow.

Your heart longing for Logan. You're scared, so scared. A part of you wants to go back and find him. Tell him everything and ask for help. But then you remember what he said. How would he react knowing that you were one of them? Would he forgive you or would he turn his back on you just like Mack always said?

You barely get a moment to think before there's a loud knock at the door. Hand slamming impatiently against it. You quietly get up and look through the peephole. You cover your mouth to hide your shocked gasp. Logan. How the hell did he find you?

"I know you're in there." Oh he's angry. You open the door and Logan steps through.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" His voice booms through the room.

"I come home to a ransacked room, I thought you were in danger. Only to be told that you ran away." He growls. He's clenching his fists tightly. How could you do this to him?

"How did you find me?" You demand as you slowly sink back towards your bag.

"Why did you leave? What's going on!" Logan is confused, lashing out on you because he just doesn't understand. Things were going great. You loved him and he loved you so why would you just run away. Away from the mansion, away from him. Did you not trust him anymore? Why?

"You wouldn't understand." You try to move past him but he grabs your shoulders and pressing you against the wall.

His claws coming out to pin you to it. The sharp adamantium knicks the chain around your neck, breaking it in two. The necklace falls to the ground but neither of you notice.

"Try me." The anger is slowly fading as he silently begs you to talk. To let him in.

"I'm sorry Logan, but I can't."

"Why not? What are you running from? I can help. Let me help." He begs. Please don't leave him. Please. He can do something. He can heal like crazy, he can track, he's fast, he's got fucking metal claws. He can help.

"You can't help me with this Logan. This is for your own good." You try to stay strong but looking into those gorgeous eyes of his was about to make you break.

"This is my fight and mine alone." He scoffs and lets go of you and starts to pace.

"Bullshit. This is our fight now. That's the deal. I lo-" He sighs and pulls you close. "Its you and me. Together." You gently trace his jaw with your gloved hands.

Tears glossing over your eyes as it takes everything in power to stay strong. To not fall into his arms. He's protected himself his whole life and you can't be the one to put him in more danger. He's a hero, he's your hero but tonight he's the love of your life and you need to protect him. Even if it feels like ripping out your own heart.

"Logan..." You say softly. He looks at you with those pretty eyes and you cup his face.

Slowly your lips brush against his. It's just a hint at first. Then it's everything at once. He smashes his lips to yours. Kissing you with a passion and need that you've dreamed off. This is your first kiss after all. It's everything you ever wanted. To feel his lips on yours. Skin to skin. You'll treasure this moment forever.

He's so wrapped up in the kiss that he doesn't notice you take your hand away. Taking off your gloves and move your hands to the side of his head. Hovering over his temples. He pulls away, breathing heavily as he leans in and kisses you again.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." You say with tears falling down your cheeks. He realizes too late, a flash of fear as you press your hands to his face.

"No!" He roars but its too late.

Like he's in a trance he stands there. You cry as you erase every memory he has of you. He won't remember you, he won't know why he's here or how he got here. You know that you won't have long before someone else finds you and you'll erase their memory too. It's for the best. It's for his own good. His eyes flutter close as he falls to the floor. You catch his head, lowering him gently to the ground. A pillow placed under it. You can't stay, he'll wake any moment. But you have a few seconds. You lean down and place a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you Logan Howlett." You whisper gently.

You take one last look at him before grabbing your bag and running out the door. Each step apart from him is like a knife in your chest. You tell yourself this what needed to happen. You'd rather lose Logan like this than watching him suffer because of you. This way he can be happy, he can move on.

You did this for him. All of it for him.

-

Logan wakes to a pounding in his head. Confusion washes over him as he takes in his surroundings. Where the fuck is he? He doesn't remember how he got here, why he came here. He stands up and looks around the room.

"What the hell?" He mumbles to himself.

Was this a prank or something? He cracks his neck and looks around. The room is mostly empty but a small glimmer catches his eyes. He walks over and sees six holes in the wall that match his claws.

Leaning down he picks up a necklace. A heart with two stones. He winces as a sharp pain shoots through his head. He stands up and slips the necklace in his pocket, something telling him to keep it close. He feels a pain in his chest. Not physical pain but something else. Maybe he finally got drunk. Drank enough to finally fuck him up.

All he knows is that he needs to get back to the mansion. As he leaves stops for a second. He shakes his head and continues on, hopping back on his motorcycle. For a second there he swears he caught a whiff of vanilla.

Must be his imagination.

[moonlightspencie]

And I Will Follow You Home

Chapter 6 of ‘treacherous’

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: the final chapter! i may do some blurbs within this universe if anyone wants them as well, but this series is officially complete.

“Hey,” a voice came softly.

Remus turned towards the wall, unwilling to move from the bed.

“Remus.”

“What?” 

Sirius sat with his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, there’s a meeting downstairs in ten minutes. Most of the others have already arrived.”

Remus fell silent again, clenching his jaw. Sirius huffed a sigh, shaking his head to himself.

“You can’t keep skipping the meetings, mate. They’re important. You’re acting like a big baby.”

“You don’t understand–”

“What I understand is that she’s still showing up, and you’re not. Considering you’re so hung up on your age, you’d think you’d be more inclined to act like an adult.”

“I can’t look at her,” Remus admitted quietly, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

He had hardly been able to look at himself in the mirror after that night, let alone come face to face with you. You’d admitted you loved him, and all he could do was wreck it. It’s all he ever seemed to do, he thought, was to wreck things. He knew he was acting like a child and a coward, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit he’d wanted you just as much. Now he was coming to terms with the fact that he may never have the chance again.

“She still looks for you every time she comes into the house, you know?” Sirius said, crossing his arms.

“Probably so she can steer clear.”

“You’re the one who practically told her no.”

“No, I didn’t,” he snapped suddenly. “I didn’t. I just–”

“You just told her you didn’t want her right now. That’s just as bad, mate.”

He was quiet, the guilt creeping in again, washing over him. Sirius let out a breath, standing from the bed.

“We start in ten minutes. Be there, Mooney, or else I’m bringing everyone else up here,” he stated, then left the room.

You were sitting in a chair in the kitchen, trying hard not to think about the fact that Remus was a staircase and a couple of doors away from you. It had been weeks since you’d seen him, and unfortunately, absence really did make the heart grow fonder. You fiddled with the spoon you’d used for your tea nearly an hour ago, waiting for Sirius to return. So, it felt extra foolish when your heart began racing as you heard someone enter the kitchen, only to find Sirius giving you a small smile.

“Oh. Hey.”

He quirked a brow. “Wow. What a warm welcome that was.”

You let out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Tall, dark, and moody’s more your thing,” he teased, sitting next to you. “He’ll be at the meeting today.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

You shrugged. “I mean… what else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I just hate seeing you upset like this. Thought it might cheer you up to see him.”

“What, you think I’ll be all fluttery and excited for him to ignore me all evening?”

“Snippy.”

You sighed. “He doesn’t… He avoids me at all costs, now, Siri. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No. You were in the right. He’s just a big baby who can’t handle his emotions.”

“Mm.”

“Hey,” he said softly, waiting for you to look at him. “He does love you.”

“Not enough.”

“But one day–”

“It shouldn’t be an if-and-when, Sirius. The world is literally falling apart and he still refuses to be with me. What else would possibly compel him?”

He swallowed, looking a little more somber as his eyes darted down to the counter. “I don’t know, Sunshine. But you both deserve to be happy.”

“Tell that to him.”

“I’ve tried. He’s a stubborn fucker.”

You laughed a bit at that. “He is.”

“You love it about him, though, don’t you? Head over heels for some raggedy, old mule.”

“Hot, raggedy, old mule, to be fair.”

“Gross,” he laughed.

“But… no. I really don’t love that bit about him. I wish it would catch on fire and disintegrate.”

“Come on, but then he wouldn’t be Mooney.”

“But he’d love me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but came up short, merely pulling you into his side in a hug. You let him hold you, leaning into him. As if on cue, though, Dumpling came strolling in, his chubby little body bumping against your feet, heading straight for his favorite uncle.

“He’s obsessed with you,” you said, watching as Sirius picked him up.

“Who wouldn’t be?” He winked, that cheeky smirk of his shining through as he kissed Dumpling’s soft forehead. “Horrible little beast. Quite the attention hog.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

He chuckled, cradling the cat as Dumpling purred away. You reached over, petting the little traitor as he snuggled up happily to Sirius. You hadn’t even registered that anyone had come into the kitchen until you heard a voice that had you jumping out of your skin from one small word.

“Oh,” Remus muttered softly, freezing up as he looked between you and Sirius. Though he never quite met your eye. “Sorry. Just came for some tea before the meeting.”

“There’s a kettle on the stove. Probably just needs to be heated again,” Sirius responded.

“Right,” Remus nodded, walking quickly to the stove.

Your eyes followed him the whole way, that familiar warm feeling still blooming in your chest as it always did when he was around. 

“I brought a new flavor. Vanilla Caramel,” you blurted out. “If you want some. It’s sweet.”

Remus nodded, not turning around. “Okay.”

You chewed your lip, watching him carefully. You wanted to go over there and kiss him silly again. You also wanted to slap him. But mostly, you just wanted him to look at you.

“I made Sirius go for some cream, too.”

“Right.”

“Your favorite mug is in the cupboard.”

He only nodded that time.

You huffed out a breath, looking to Sirius for help, though he was too preoccupied petting your cat. You looked at Remus again, still standing like stone in front of the stove. You suddenly stood, going to the cupboard to get his mug. You brought it to the counter you were sitting at, setting it right in the center. You then went to get the cream and sugar, leaving them next to the mug. Finally, you reached for the tea, putting a bag in his mug before you sat down again. If he wouldn’t look at you, you could at least get him to face you.

“Why’d you do that?” Sirius asked, a little bewildered at your behavior.

“Thought it would be easier for Remus to prepare his tea if it was all set out.”

Sirius raised a brow at you, then glanced at Remus who was just turning off the whistling kettle.

“Well… Dumpling and I will be… somewhere,” Sirius nodded once, a tiny smirk in your direction as he stood, walking out of the room with the cat.

Remus finally turned, pouring the steaming water into the mug. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

He was quiet, filling the mug and then letting it sit for a moment as the tea leaves steeped.

You watched him for a second. “You’ve been missing meetings.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With who?”

He huffed a sigh in frustration. “Nobody. You know that.”

“You’re acting like you have something to hide. How am I supposed to know?”

“You should know because I…” he shook his head, cutting himself off. “I’m not seeing anybody. I’m not even talking to anyone except for Sirius.”

“Hm,” you nodded slowly, then looked back at him, studying his face as he looked into the cup. “I’ve missed you.”

“Please don’t start.”

“You’re being a dick. We were friends first, you know? I’m allowed to miss you.”

He finally looked at you, feeling his chest compress when he met your eyes. He wanted to snark back. He wanted to push you away. Despite the guilt he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you even more. But his pull to you felt just as magnetic as ever.

“How do you not hate me?”

“Probably because I love you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

“Quit trying to tell me what to do,” you shot back. “Trust me, if I could stop, I would.”

He frowned, looking back at his cup of tea, wishing he could drown in it. His jaw clenched, his head shaking softly again.

“Darling…”

“You said you didn’t want me,” you uttered quietly.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You may as well have.”

“I don’t want to lose you. There’s a difference.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous, and you know it.”

He sighed. “How? You’re… you’re everything. You’re brilliant and beautiful and kind and… and I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“Why do you have to insist on–” you stop, groaning in annoyance. “I can’t keep arguing about this. Why can’t you just trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s myself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” I roll my eyes. 

“No, I’m not. I’m being–”

“Sirius told me about you breaking his lamp. That’s drama.”

His cheeks went pink. “I only did that because you stormed out on me!”

“Yeah, because you all but told me you would never be with me!”

“I told you I loved you!”

“No, you didn’t. I said you didn’t and you said ‘I do’. That’s not the same thing as saying the words.”

“Well, I… I…”

You stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He blinked, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I love you.”

You all but gasped with the breath you sucked in, your stomach fluttering as his eyes were still glued to yours.

“Remus…”

“The meeting is starting soon,” he said, abandoning his tea on the counter as he started to move towards the door of the kitchen.

“Please don't do this again,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “Please. Stop running.”

“Baby, I can’t look at you without wanting you in every way possible. Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“You just said you love me. Just let me believe that’s true.”

He shook his head, turning to you fully. “It is true.”

“Why are you trying to leave again, then? Stop doing that to me.”

“I– I already told you. I can’t lose you.”

“The only way you’ll lose me is by pushing me away like this,” you said, voice raised in frustration. “We already did this once, Remus, and then you avoided me for a month. Don’t do that again.”

“You don’t understand what this is for me–”

“Then make me understand.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes drawing all over your face for a few moments as you waited with baited breath for him to say anything. He went over every possible response in his head, but only one won out.

You shuddered a breath against him as his lips suddenly met yours in a kiss that was far more hungry than the one you’d shared last time you were together. His arms went around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest, his grip possessive and needy. His tongue pushed into your mouth, leaving you whining softly, your hands in his hair.

“Don’t ever tell me I don’t love you,” he muttered against your lips as he broke away for a moment. “Or that I don’t want you. I want you more than anything.”

“Then have me,” you whispered back.

He stared at you, his eyes hooded and focused in on your lips. Though, you were both taken out of it as you heard Dumbledore’s muffled voice calling the Order meeting to start.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, head dropping against his shoulder.

He took a few deep breaths, stroking your hair softly. “We should go.”

“I know.”

“We can… We can talk about this later…”

You looked up at him. “You have to promise you won’t run again. Actually listen to me this time. I don’t want to argue.”

“Baby.” He frowned a little.

“Please, Remus. You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to be content with friendship.”

“I–”

“Just promise you’ll listen this time.”

“O-okay. Okay, fine,” he nodded. “Promise.”

You stared for another few seconds before nodding as well. You then broke away, intending on going to the meeting, though not before he grabbed your arm, pulling you into one more kiss. His lips moved against yours softly, but certainly not lacking passion. It only lasted for fifteen seconds before he pulled away again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, we can go now.”

You nodded, hoping you’d be able to pull yourself together enough to not be a flustered mess through the meeting. Though, you were certain by Sirius’s shit-eating grin when you’d both walked in that he knew within milliseconds. The bastard.

The meeting felt excruciatingly long, your gaze frequently being drawn to Remus who looked as calm and cool as ever. Also a bastard.

It wasn’t until you were back at Remus’s home, however, that you really started feeling the nerves kick in. You were in the living room, in the spot you’d always sit in, waiting for him to bring the tea. You stared hard at the coasters on the coffee table that hadn’t moved since the first time you’d ever been in the room. Now, though, you felt compelled as you leaned forward, pushing them a little closer together.

He came out a few minutes later, glancing down at the coasters, noticing their new position. He smiled a little to himself, though didn’t say anything as he sat down the mugs of tea. But this time, instead of sitting with you, he went to get a book from his shelf. You watched curiously as he browsed, searching seemingly for a specific book.

“What are you looking for?”

“Hold on.”

You chuckled softly. “Pardon me for the impatience.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He finally pulled out a book. “Ah.”

“Which one is that?” you asked as he came to sit next to you, closer than usual. 

He flipped through the pages, looking for one in particular.

“Here it is,” he said at last, showing the page to you. “Do you remember this?”

You nodded. “Of course I do. It's the first thing I ever read to you here.”

“It is.” He nodded, reading over it. “I… This line, here. The underlined one…”

“‘If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me’,” you read from the book. 

“If you can believe it… I was convinced I loved you then. I was sure you’d never feel the same. And then… Then I found out you did. It terrifies me.”

“It terrifies you that I love you?”

He nodded, looking directly at you. “You’re too good for me. You have to know that.”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is,” he replied softly, bringing a hand up to your cheek. “It is true. And you can believe it isn’t all you want, but–”

“Stop. Please.”

“You need to understand.”

“I understand that you think you’re some kind of monster. I understand that you’re scared. What you need to understand is that I don’t care about any of that,” you say softly. “Remus… You’re right that it would be hard to be together sometimes, with everything going on. I could go be with someone who’d be easier to be with, but I don’t want anybody else. Hell, I worked day and night just to develop a potion because I knew it would help you.”

“Why are you so insistent on being with me?”

“Because you’re everything to me.”

He let out a soft breath. “You’re foolish.”

“And you’re a little bitch sometimes, but I love you anyways,” you tease, reaching up to hold his wrist as his hand stayed on your cheek. 

He scoffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sirius.”

“You were ignoring me for weeks. I had to hang out with someone.”

His smile faded. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never.”

He took in a breath. “If… If you want this… like, really want this with me… you have to know that I can’t give you a peaceful life.”

“But will you love me?”

“Of course.”

“That’s enough.”

He swallowed down a lump in this throat. “It’s not always enough to just have love.”

“It will be, though. You’re kind, loyal, smart. Not to mention handsome,” you smile a little, as does he, his cheeks a little pink. “Whatever comes with being with you… I want it. All of it.”

“You don’t–”

“You all but told me you wouldn’t be with me, and you were still all I could think of after the fact. You have me already, Remus. You know that. I’m not going to shy away now.”

“You have me, too. In an iron grip, apparently.”

You laugh a little. “I don’t care what goes wrong. There’s far too much that’s right, and no matter how foolish you think that is, I think you’re ten times more dumb for trying to ignore that.”

He shook his head. “I… absolutely adore you.”

“Is that you saying you want this?”

“It’s me saying that you’ve somehow changed my mind. I think you’ve hexed me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He smiled. “Can’t help it. Most beautiful woman in the world is in front of me, you can’t expect me to be thinking clearly.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed back, just as gently, resting both of his hands on your cheeks.

“You moved the coasters closer,” he whispered.

“I did.”

“The tea is still hot.”

“It is,” you replied, raising a brow.

He sucked in a breath, eyes falling down and over your form. “So… we have some time before it cools off.”

The faintest smirk crept onto your face. “We do.”

Sunlight streamed in the room at sunrise, falling on two full, cold cups of tea, matching coasters, and a still-open book.

[channelinglament]

Self Aware HypMic?

(What kind of rabbit hole I'm falling in?)

It goes as if you did this 2 ways

- You played the game

- You watched the anime/read manga

(If u didn't it's alr tho)

Let's begin!

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☆

'Kay, so game verse and anime/manga verse are kind of different. Even the game name says "alternative rap battle" instead of division rap battle.

(I assume u already know TDD Era and stuff.)

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It was another mundane day of your life. Pillows surrounded your figure, as you flipped pages of the manga (online or not, up to you). Your drink of choice nearby you, ready to be drank and yet, you are too preoccupied with a manga that you recently found out about. This past months, you've been listening to drama tracks, the songs and reading the manga. The storyline is quite complicated in the beginning, but the more you read, the more you understand. You felt so many emotions during the reading process. Sadness, anger, happiness, love. You were so hooked on it.

Unbeknownst to you, figures inside the said manga were having an existenal crisis. Nothing really new to Ramuda, but you get me. The days have been going as they used to. Rap battles went well. Nothing seemed out of place except for the strange feeling. The feeling of being watched. No one understood why did they feel this way. It was not a stalker was it? They became paranoid, until they started hearing voices. Who is it..?

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First ones to become self-aware: Ramuda, Rio, Saburo, Kuko(?), Sasara, Iris, Gentaro, Doppo, Otome.

Everyone finds out or accepts it later, then the characters I listed.

I think some of them hated you, some didn't mind you, while others ignored you. They thought you would leave after a while, and yet, you stay. Why are you watching them?

For some reason they can somewhat feel what you feel towards them. Perhaps their universe is intune with your emotions? Would...would they all die if you stopped liking them?

Their world seems to constantly change as well. Why? Some days you were watching them, and sometimes talking. Other days you..sang along with them? Tried to help them sing better? Helped them during some battles..? (Game moments)

It certainly took everyone a good while to warm up to you. Some warmed up quicker than others (Dice and Jiro, they thought you were some guardian angel or something. Like- you're helping them fr)

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I'll expand on this suff and world building later. Now, let's move on.

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(I may write for Secret Aliens, but I don't know them much so idk)

Depending on reader's age, it will be a romantic or platonic piece.

Reader is 18+?

Romantic: Ichiro, Jyushi, Kuko, Jiro(?), Dice, maybe Nemu.

Others are platonic

Reader is 25+?

Romantic: MTC, Hifumi, Doppo, Ramuda, Gentaro, Sasara, Rosho

Others are platonic.

Reader is a teen?

Romantic: Saburo, Jiro.

Everyone else is platonic. Even this, depends entirely on age of the reader. (I have a few 13+ readers, and more 16+ readers)

Reader is 30+?

Romantic: Jakurai, Hitoya

Others are platonic (I don't write for Rei)

I honestly am 15, so I feel more comfortable with characters that aren't older than 20 heh.

Aka Saburo, Jiro, Ichiro, Kuko, Jyushi and etc.

Even tho I stated in 25+ as platonic, I know that ppl who r 25 can date ppl 20+, so yeah, you may specify if romantic or platonic? Tbh I don't know much abt adult relationships sorry.

I don't write for Rei

Also Hifumi warming up to reader depends on gender (We all know why)

Everything else goes by my rules, pinned post :^

Masterlist

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 1

Propaganda why Elena Gilbert is insufferable:

"I wouldn't have such a problem with her if she didn't get others involved. Liking two people at once isn't a problem. Stringing them along is a problem. Constantly hanging around people that she knows is actively trying to kill her/want her dead or their relatives is so stupid like don't do that maybe. Having people stop what they are doing and dropping everything(especially if it's important) because she is in danger/trouble. Making people have to make tough decisions, sometimes affecting other people, and then not even offering up an apology about it(looking at you season 3)"

"The first 3 seasons made her so bad!! I understand the trauma but stringing along 2 brothers was ridiculous. Like, make up your mind and stop toying with their emotions. And then everything was about her! Every time she was in trouble, everything had to be put on hold to find her and help her and sometimes she wasn't even grateful about it and would end up in stupid situations again and again and again. Lowkey, she's the reason why Bonnie has been through the wringer, especially in the 3rd season. But as the seasons progressed, she did start to warm up my cold little heart"

"have you seen the show? she has little to no common sense, no standards, makes the most boring choices for every scenario, and isn't a good person. the show acts like she's a golden child when she's really just a boring child. dating adult men. who stalk her. and her biggest personality trait is saying "Stefan!" and "Damon!" when she experiences any emotion. idk man Nina Dobrev did NOT get the role for her acting skills (or lack thereof) that's for sure"

"Her biggest problem seems to be choosing between Nice Guy™️ and Bad Boy™️?? Meanwhile her best friend Bonnie is cleaning up everyone's shit. Elena is what happens when adults write teenagers without ever having interacted with a teenager."

Propaganda why Nesta Archeron is insufferable:

"Cruel and abrasive to everyone she meets, even the people who have done absolutely nothing to her. Verbally and emotionally abusive to her sister who was keeping the whole family alive, then initially refuses to help the same sister in a life or death situation later. Threatens to kill the same sister for asking for her help in a massive war affecting everyone on their continent. Blames everyone else for her problems and acts like no one else has ever suffered because they hide it better than her. Most insufferably, she pushes everyone away on purpose by bringing up their insecurities, then is sad when they don't want to be around her and don't like her."

"She is full of herself and spends the start of the book being a drunk bitch who refuses to get off her ass because the world fucking hates her despite the fact that there is a ton of characters willing to help. And then you need to root for her because no she got molested and abused and whatever the fuck else"

[lila-pitts-apologist]

Not to rise from the dead and post on here after months, but I wanted to touch on an aspect of the show that I feel is misunderstood by the fandom, especially in season 3.

I hate to bring it up at all, but I’m talking about Luther and Allison’s relationship(?). I know it’s a part of the series that most of us ignore or joke about, but in actuality it sheds light on how the siblings were raised, especially Allison, in a sadly realistic way.

While I obviously see Allison and Luther’s relationship as troublesome and unhealthy/weird, I don’t think I have the same ‘gawk in disgust’ reaction other people in the fandom seem to have when the complexity of the relationship is brought up.

This isn’t because I think incest (what I would label the relationship, even if it was more emotional than physical!) is acceptable, but because I think it makes total sense within the show, especially within the character dynamics of Allison and Luther.

Even though it’s a hard thing to bring up, sibling incest is more common than we think. It’s not always full-out or malicious, but it does occur way more often than most of us would assume. Specifically, it’s more likely to occur amongst siblings that are not properly socialized as youths, or ones who are full on isolated.

When we think of isolation we think of olden time families living on a farm cut off from any other societies, and I feel like that makes people underestimate how much the Hargreeves siblings were isolated from their peers and just other people.

I mean, we’ve seen Reginald’s parenting! The kids make their superhero debut at age 11, and by the way it’s described who knows if the kids ever even properly went outside before then. Growing up the Hargreeves had only the seven of them (6 if we account for Viktor’s separation).

All of the personal growth, all of the curiosity about the outside world, all of the teenage melancholia and growing pains, all of it has to occur within the bounds of the seven siblings because there’s literally no one else.

So of course this is going to make for oddly bonded children! Of course they’re going to blur the lines of what siblings should act like, because they know no objective standards! We see this in their competitiveness stemming from being pitted against each other, we see it in their ‘ride or die’ mindset even when they don’t like each other, and we see it in Allison and Luther.

I see the fandom spin it into Allison and Luther being freaks, especially as the other siblings find it odd as well. While I agree it’s weird, I think it’s unfair to paint it simply as ‘grown adults have a thing for their own sibling’ because we’re then ignoring their unique upbringing.

I mean, i find it hard to even treat the siblings as adults on an emotional level, because they were never truly allowed the development needed to grow into stable, mature adults.

You have one sibling who is reared to crave attention and validation, who didn’t see much kindness or empathy due to his envy-inducing status as Number 1. And you have another sibling who is purposely left devoid of proper morals, who is used to getting everything she wants and being wanted by everyone in the way she wants them to, by charm or by force.

Is it really hard to see what those siblings would find in each other, the validation that they surely would’ve found in non-relatives had they been allowed to grow up normally?

One of my favorite parts of TUA is that it’s not afraid to give us a fucked up family, exploring how such an unorthodox childhood allows for ugliness to rear its head in the craziest places. To me, the too-intimate bond of Allison and Luther isn’t something to just be written off as an awkward writing choice, it’s another very real and sad example of how the Hargreeves’ morals and minds were doomed from the start.

[msfbgraves]

Season 6 is dead to me. Johnny Lawrence is absolute trash, and once again the show tries to make Daniel look lesser somehow. Fuck the CK writers.

S1 Johnny Lawrence was an asshole. And we saw where that got him. Poor, drunk, jobless, facedown on the floor. His kid hates him. And they said, come on, hear him out. He may be completely out of touch but there's potential yet. And just occassionally, he may have a point. Let's see him crawl back to some meaning in his life. That's fine, actually. Gosh darn it don't we hope some people in our lives would! Or maybe we ourselves have had to pick ourselves back up!

But now it's trying to sell us this attitude is fine. You'll get the girl! Your son will forgive you! Your high school crush is still into you! Consequences? You're above that. Caring for others? You don't have to. You're a white middle aged male, so violence, emotional unavailability, insensitivity, an unwillingness to get with the times, selfishness, belligerence, are A-OK! Because men who cook, are kind, considerate, responsible, well groomed, and financially stable are inferior! We'll show you how inferior, by God! Why should you try to repair what you broke? Move on, move up! Your son whom you've neglected again and again and again and again will forgive you because you are a MAN, you fucked a woman to make him and therefore he owes you. Doesn't matter what you do. Now, your surrogate son who has never criticised you, that's your emotional connection. You don't have to take care of him, he has women to do that. Men don't take care of anyone. And yes, if you treat your girlfriend badly she will cut you off and hurt your child but that's OK! You don't owe anyone anything and deserve to fail upward. What the fuck kind of message is that? It's wish fulfillment for men who don't want to take responsibility. Because they couldn't stomach the opposite message. It has to be destroyed. And the writers are not even ironic about it. None of those real world consequences. Carmen would have dropped Johnny like a hot potato. Miguel would have been in a wheelchair. Robby would have stopped trying with Johnny. Daniel would have probably thought the better of teaching karate. People would have been sued left right and centre. But what we get is how these writers want men to be: behind the times, mean, underachieving misogynistic bigoted bullies. These writers think men should rule the world by virtue of having and being a dick. And the one shred of compassion I feel is that they seem to think that being an asshole is part of being an adult. They cannot imagine adult men being sincerely kind. Daniel is an adult and a father, so he must be mean. Mr Miyagi is an adult and a father, so he must be mean! There's no other way for an adult man to be! If an adult man is not mean, he must be hiding something. Because there is no other way. Men are cruel. This may hurt boys for the rest of their lives but they'll learn. It's the way of the world [It's not]. Any other message must be corrected. They can't fathom anything else! And I can pity that but I mostly want it tf out of my face. Because there are men who can imagine better for themselves and for young boys. Because who would you rather be around: an aggressive drunk who treats everyone terribly or a kind man who has had his fill of the violence of the world and rather spends time fixing things? Sure that's not as exciting, but if you want excitement, go do sports, get on stage, try to travel, and yes, live vicariously through a villain sometimes. But don't pretend he's right...!

[starlightshore]

Gotta say, I love how you made so many posts criticizing people who see Chara as an abuser, yet in your own AU you depict them as a cruel, vindictive bully who tries to turn Asriel's family against her, drives her to suicide, then guilt-trips her into getting back together with them. Yet Asriel is somehow the real abuser because she's mad at them for ruining her life. I am by no means a Chara hater, but that seems a little inconsistent.

// CW: discussions of suicide, long post

wow, what an incredibly uncharitable reading of my work! thank you so much!

okay, jokey-positive aside. i shouldn't respond to bad-faith criticism like this because it's not worth my time as it's unlikely you'll actually hear me out in response. I've been online long enough to know you don't feed the trolls.

but, I'm an optimist at heart and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you're actually upset with me and do want to have a civil conversation and are not just here to spew hate and drag me down.

Ask Fallen Royalty, the tumblr version wasn't handled the best as it was my first attempt at really trying to write this subject matter and I felt I didn't tackle it as well as I could have. that's something I plan on fixing with the rewrite.

that said, I have never called either of the siblings abusers.

they're flawed, mentally unwell and traumatized young adults/teens who are in no way equipped to handle the situation they were put in.

they both did awful things. Asriel packaged their trauma in a sanitized way for profit and sympathy points believing it'd benefit Monsterkind. they did so without asking Chara for permission. Then later, at Christmas, Asriel abandoned their family to go solo ruling. That's shitty! That's objectively really shitty but it's a very understandable reaction.

Asriel is taught that money is what moves the world and they believe they're soulless and a faker. That if anyone were to know their secret they'd hate them. so prevent that hurt, they cut everyone else out.

That's completely why Chara goes from "oh man I miss Asriel I wish I was good enough to have them beside me again ):" to 180 "Actually screw them for leaving me i hate them for this. i don't deserve to wallow in pain waiting for someone who can't even bother to text me back" them cutting of asriel is an understandable reaction for anyone, let alone a teenager! could they have been more gentle? yeah. could they have tried to fix things? yeah! but they're not a villain for not having the emotional maturity or foresight to handle a complex situation like that. they're like, literally 15/16 at this point of the story

chara also wasn't trying to drive people away from asriel? i really don't know what you're referring to with this aside from Chara deciding to tell the (at the time they believed) truth that Asriel is Flowey. At that point, Chara literally thought Asriel was replaced by Flowey. That they were two different people. That's not to isolate them- its to be honest with the family with this huge news. Toriel is shown not to care that her children are flowers, it would have never mattered to her as we see immediately that Chara is a flower and Toriel doesn't care.

chara also didn't drive Asriel to suicide. that's a blatant misread of the text. It's not that Asriel decided to die right after Chara decided to cut them off. and it's NOT like chara handed them a loaded gun or told them to do anything. all they did was say "don't lie to our family and don't talk to me, i don't want to be friends with you."

Asriel didn't decide to die until they felt their weak support system was breaking down. Yun wanted to be with Mew Mew, the Band broke up (Shyren, Napstablook and most recently Mew Mew quit), they made a big stupid movie that they hate (the epitome of their fake narrative on the silver screen), and because they ditched the premiere to check on chara (who was missing) their agents are pissed off.

Mew Mew then talks about how troubled Flowey/Asriel is and how being a secret flower hurt their social life. (The relationship with Flora being a strong example) like, Flowey always sabotages or loses those they care about because everyone else has their own life and they don't open themselves to create connections that last because they're running away. it's the culmination of everything going wrong that drives them to that point.

plus, it's hammered home later in Flowey's introspection that they feel horribly guilty for their actions as Flowey. parading as their perfect King when they secretly killed a majority of mosnterkind and did who knows what else is like. majorly fucked up.

i'm unsure if you forgot or chose to ignore the larger narrative or what's happened, but these things are in the story. they're both messed up individuals who have a hard time communicating their feelings -Chara literally brings up having emotional dysregulation disorder and CPTSD in the epilogue. Asriel's imposter syndrome and-gestures to Flowey) is also a clear indication that they've got some fundamental mental health issues that prevent them from understanding themselves and others.

it's a story about broken people who lash out against each other but ultimately come together in love.

they care so so deeply for each other! they're family. messing up (especially as children, teenagers etc) doesn't mean you shouldn't be written off as disposable. you're ALL capable of fucking up severely but you have the chance to grow and better yourself. you owe it to those who are willing to give that chance to do better. that's what the story has always been about.

I will admit that I plan on working on the pacing and giving chara more sweet moments so it doesn't come across as harsh -I don't want either sibling to be seen as a "villain" or """""abusive"""" as you call them. Except, yeah, Asriel is meant to be seen as an antagonist for a brief while, but that's set up Chara to come to that realization just the same as the audience should.

i hope this helped you understand what i was going for. if you wanna talk further I don't mind, but please talk to me as a real person. we're on the same page that abuse is bad. that people shouldn't treat each other so horribly. i don't excuse either of the character's interactions but i want to show empathy and understanding and that they can grow past that. i sincerely hope we can come to a shared perspective. if you wanna, i'd love to talk about i can make this message more clear, i'd love some proper criticism! i hope you have a lovely day and that you please be more considerate to how you to talk to others as I could have very easily read this anon hate/trolling.

[quietbluejay]

The Buried Dagger Take 2 #8

this time: the Emperor meets Mortarion and Garro continues to not die

so they got ambushed but mortarion is pushing through with sheer force of will and determination does he do anything else ever lol

"you are the lantern that showed us the way, and by that light, we'll burn the world clean" only one obstacle is left Necare's stronghold "soon" says mortarion they're all using the sealed armour btw they just recently managed to take back the village where mortarion and typhon first ended up which has emotional meaning to morty

tbh im not a huge fan of "the only positive things about morty are the ones that were pre-programmed in" especially given, you know just about no one else seems to have this oh!! they've found morty's old tower which is in ruins

augh

suddenly, they get attacked by fiery projectiles! cannonballs that are on fire and have living? things that are also on fire inside them i think we're about to see why dreadnought dude ended up in a dreadnought though how would turning into a space marine work if he was already horribly injured and also an adult Mortarion orders them to advance while they can Typhon says they have to fall back

yeah things aren't going well he's breathed in some unfiltered toxin

he hates them for their weakness

they go back to the site of the previous battle there's a scout waiting there and she's got news from Morarg man like every single one of morty's buddies ended up a space marine

scout: you need to see it for yourself

we're back to typhon pov the craft is like nothing he's ever seen before

they've got a cordon up around the mystery craft typhon is worried what happens if it starts firing into the crowd that's formed behind the cordon

inside the town, everyone is buzzing with word about the Newcomer

rask and typhon talk a bit yeah it's sure some timing lmao and now time to meet the Newcomer i mean we all know who it is typhon has an experience

yet despite the newcomer looking like the opposite of anyone from barbarus ever, typhon vibes that there's a similarity between him and mortarion

the emperor (yeah im gonna stop being coy): we've come to bring you into the fold, glory and prosperity await, the dawning of a new age, etc etc the emperor's super charisma is affecting everyone except mortarion and i had an extremely cursed though which is that it reminds me of everyone's reaction to alarielle when everyone gets affected by the love me aura except Tyrion

anyways

mortarion: yeah, not interested in where i came from, i'm a child of barbarus, that's what matters. and we can do this ourselves. go away the emperor: no offence but [press x to doubt]

Arzach: « This never get any easier ». So he has experience of Primarchs telling him to fuck off and still he doesn’t change his approach method. bluejay: well to be fair i mean it's not like he's a powerful psyker who can read people's minds oh wait

the emperor: you still haven't killed that one overlord

typhon follows after him and calls him crazy for letting himself getting goaded into doing this

Arzach: Ah this part. I must say, good manipulation.

i'm pretty sure the authorial intent here is that the emperor meant the best uwu and just didn't know the whole circumstances uwu which just makes emps look super dumb and incompetent tbh but maybe i'm being mean to swallow

Arzach: You mean that Swallow didn’t intented to make the Emperor a psychological manipulator ? bluejay: the impression i get overall from swallow's writing is that he goes for benevolent emperor and that in this scene the emperor is being honest which, lmao i think he's trying to have the emperor be like "ah this'll be like russ or vulkan" except you know in order to do that you need to make the emperor very dumb but yeah based on this and some later stuff i think he's going for "the emperor genuinely cares about morty he just said all the wrong things" maybe im doing swallow a disservice though Arzach: I always thought the portrayal here was willingly manipulative but I can see that too. bluejay: i want to be able to have that reading because it's great it'd be some really great manipulation in addition to bloodlessly adding the planet to the imperium, it also makes their leader and liberator looks like a childish selfish idiot thus neatly taking away a lot of the base for any potential resistance after all if he really cared about them wouldn't he swallow his pride? Arzach: Yup. It’s also the take Swallow proposed (in Morty inner pov) in Lantern Light which take place a year after this book. bluejay: maybe I owe Swallow an apology

chapter ends on this and then it's back to captain oatmeal Garro is fighting lord of the flies, Loken is fighting the world eater dude who died and is how horrifyingly reanimated Loken tries to do an "are you in there" type thing because he feels strong empathy because of his own episode of going crazy it doesn't work, needless to say but ;-; garro: why do you torment me lord of the flies: it's fun

lmao okay

Arzach: « The struggle matters if we are mortals. » Garro, you are an Astartes. bluejay: right??? garro: yes i've been granted superhuman endurance already but it doesn't matter in this case because uhhhhhhh reasons

the lord of the flies almost kills garro but sadly loken comes over to help they manage to make mincemeat of him but he just starts reforming malcador: well we can't have that

meanwhile malcador vaporizes the lord of the flies which banishes it back to the warp garro: so what happened malcador: none of your business anyways it's taken care of and back to rubio there were apparently a bunch of other uprisings at the same time so for once all the knights errant are gathered malcador's gonna give a speech (they went back to the palace)

garro: calm??? garro: cities are literally on fire he gets a cryptic answer from one of the future grey knights and walks off garro needs to go "refresh himself with the clarity of his faith" and he's going to the dungeons to do it (yeah we all know who he's going to visit there) so that's what they're calling it these days, huh, waggles eyebrows next time: the reveal of one of the more horrifying things I've read in a 40k novel

[aeligsido]

[WM — September 2024] Prompt 1 — Hogwarts Express.

Rating: T.

TW: mentions of the war and the pov character definitely has trauma (maybe PTSD?).

Characters: Altair Lupin-Black (OC), Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Daisy Potter; mention of a lot of other characters.

Additional Tags: Voldemort attacks the Potters later au; Outsider POV; not-really-implied-but-also-how-else-did-they-get-those-kids past mpreg; Kallisto, Maeve, Daisy, & Altair are my OCs; POA; emotional angst; those children have so many trauma; those adults also have so many trauma.

Summary: Altair just wants his parents back together.

Words Count: 876.

A/N: Hey! I hope it still qualifies (Altair does think a lot about his parents together) jdjdjd. I started thinking about this au not too long ago — where Harry is seven (and a half!) when Voldemort finds & attacks the Potters, and what would it change (more kids everywhere apparently) and what wouldn’t change (rip Sirius, but at least this time he escaped earlier). I’m so willing to babble about it you have no idea. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@wolfstarmicrofic

Read on ao3.

-

He should be happy and excited and hopeful; yet all Altair can feel is the trepidation and anxiety twisting his stomach into knots.

He knew since he was five and lost most of his family that starting Hogwarts was going to be difficult; he hadn’t imagined any of this, still.

For starters, at five he still firmly believed that the Aurors would soon realize their mistake and let his Papa go. He’s not sure when this particular hope withered away, yet it did, and with it all the trust and respect his child self still had for the government — which admittedly hadn’t been that much anyway, considering that his dad is a werewolf and the British Wizarding World hates everything that isn’t wizard and pureblooded.

Then, it’s the fact that said Papa escaped Azkaban this summer — of course not to kill Harry as people seem so intent on believing, but even Dad isn’t sure what prompted it. Tentatively, he told them when they first reunited earlier that day that perhaps he just hadn’t managed to escape before; Altair could imagine it’s true, too.

His dad is sleeping, now, the upcoming moon sapping all of his energy. Maeve is curled up against him, as fast asleep as he is, for the exact same reasons. From time to time, a small snort escapes her throat, and Kallisto lets out a small giggle. She’s tucked against Dad and Neville, listening to the older teenagers' conversation, and seemingly more excited than everyone else combined. It’s not the same for her, Altair knows — she was barely one when everything happened. She doesn’t have the memories of everything that happened after.

Reflexively, he squeezes Daisy’s hand. She squeezes right back, and he lets out a soft, relieved breath. Being separated from her all those years has been terrible, like his very soul being ripped in half and told to wander on its own. He’s not able to let go of her now that she’s here, not yet, and she doesn’t look much ready to let go of him either. Susan is on the other side of her, and then Harry and Harry’s friend Hermione. Beside Neville is Ron — one of Uncle Fabian’s nephews, he remembers. They’ve never met, but Uncle Fabian used to talk about them all the time — and then Susan’s friend Hannah. It’s a lot of people, probably too much for their compartment, but Dad casts a few spells when they all came in and it looks like it's holding on.

Sometimes, Altair still has nightmares about the night Uncle James and Aunt Lily died, and about Papa leaving in the middle of the night and never coming back. He was too young to realize then, but now he can tell how much it must have weighed on his dad; how much it still weighs on him. They haven’t talked about Papa being out and about outside of Dad telling them that Dumbledore is wrong and Papa is not going to hurt them — Altair knows that, of course, but the girls either don’t remember him or never knew him, so they needed the reassurance — but that he’s taking the DADA position anyway.

Altair wonders what his dad is feeling, now. Is he angry? Or scared? Or excited? Does he even still love Papa the way he used to?

Altair wants to see his fathers together again. He cherishes the memories of simpler times, when the war was still raging on and Voldemort was still alive, but they were a happy family. He remembers his fathers dancing and singing in the kitchen after tucking him in bed, when he would get up to ask for another story and end up in their arms and laughing at the purposefully wrong notes his Papa would hit. He remembers their smiles, full and bright and tired and wary, but always loving, always comforting, and the soft I love yous they would exchange and murmur into his hair. He remembers the last year the most, when they would sneak away to the Potters’ cottage and grieve their family members falling one after the other and yet still be the most safe he ever felt.

He wants it back. He wants it back so badly; the love and the bad singing and the kisses into his hair and on his forehead and the adoration in his Papa’s eyes when he was looking at Dad and him and Kallisto, and the warmth and safety teared away from them by Voldemort killing Uncle James and Aunt Lily and the government letting Papa rots in jail under false accusations.

More even, Altair wants his dad to be happy again, happy like when Altair was a kid, happy like when Papa was still with them. And now — now that Papa is out, maybe it’ll happen. Maybe they’ll be together again, and they'll be a family again, and Harry and Daisy will come live with them, and Papa will love Maeve just like he loves him and Kallisto, and Dad will be happy. Complete again. A team, chasing away Death Eaters and monsters under the bed alike.

Altair wants it, and he wants to believe in this future more than anything.

And every second closer to Hogwarts chants maybe, maybe, maybe…

[unfragility]

my family is not made of humans.

i was born in a severely abusive enviroment, where all i knew was fear and violence. everyday i would wake up terrified that it'd be another day that i'd feel physical and emotional pain, caused by the ones who should be loving and protecting me the most. they seemed to enjoy to take all of their frustrations out on me and my sister, and beat us up until we could no longer move. they'd humiliate us, threaten us and destroy our sense of security so we could no longer ask for help. not that i'd make a difference - everytime we did ask for help, adults around us would ignore or stay silent.

i don't have a family. my mother is a narcisistic, violent and delusional woman who only sees me a source of money and nothing else. my father is completely absent, as he always was (except when he was beating us up), and thinks sending me a "good morning" text everyday can make it up for what he did. my sister... i think she loves me. sometimes she hates me too. i suppose i'm her walking reminder that she was an abuse survivor, and that's all she wants to avoid so she can start over. i get it.

my friends are lovely. they're almost like family to me, except they don't understand how it's like to have no one else. it seems unfair; to look at them like they're my last hope, and to know that they don't understand the feeling, because they have loving mothes, sisters and relatives alike. they have support - i do not. i think that's what hurts me the most, at the end of the day. they don't know how it's like to be alone. and if they don't, they will never understand this giant hole inside my chest.

my partner is a two-sided coin. seeing from one perspective, he loves me, cares about me, protects me and tries his best. but from the other, he's negligent. he doesn't understand that his past makes me insecure, afraid, sad and miserable. if he could just start affirming me everyday how much all of this does not matter and that i'm his one and only, that i'm the one that truly matters, i'd be happy. but he doesn't; he barely gives me affection when i'm depressed. he just lets me be. i suppose if i had killed myself this morning when i took my keys and left without a single positive thought in my head, he would take some good few hours to even notice. he'd be asleep. that's why it's so hard for me to trust him; i have to tell him every single think i need, all the time. i'm tired.

so looking at the bigger picture and making it simple, i'm all alone in this world. i've got no one. no human being can understand this pain of being completely left behind by everyone around me. no one understands the excruciating horror of existing without human warmth and support. no one can feel what i feel, and they never will. and that's the reason sometimes - actually, all the time - i think about ending it all. just putting an end to it, forever. this thought actually brings me peace. i wish i could have peace. and when i finally rest, i'm sure i'll have it.

but then, there's them. my only light in this world. my reason to exist. my will to keep going. my animals. god, i love them. i really do.

how can i possibly begin to explain how much i love these small, unique, kind and pure beings? they're everything i have in this life. it's funny how they're not the ones who chose to be adopted by us, and yet they're happy to be around and feel extremely grateful to be by your side. these little fellas can change your whole day with a single "meow", and make it all worth it.

all of them mean so much to me. their lives, their health, their happiness, their little hearts. when i have them around me, i feel like i have a purpose: giving love and taking care of them. it makes that chronical hole a little smaller, and it warms my chest up from the inside. i don't know, it's like they have this spark of life in them that lits me up whenever i want to end this existence for once and all.

they did not chose to live with me, but they chose to love me, and they still choose it everyday. they choose to be happy around me. to make me smile. to take care of me when i cry, and to sleep by my side when i'm hopeless. they also choose to be tricky assholes sometimes, but isn't it part of the fun of having these little fellas? i love them even when they're bothering me.

when my mom beat me up, i cried to my dogs. when i felt desperate and alone, i cried to cindy. when i tried to kill myself, napo was there, staring at me like he didn't want to see my crying and cutting my legs while taking random meds. when my ex made me so insanely desperate to end my life that i couldn't move out of the bed, cheetah and ciel were there. ciel was with me everyday after my traumatic breakup, until he could no longer be. when the pain of still living with my abuser - my own mother - hit me like a truck, kiri licked my tears off my face. when i wanted to have fun in the middle of this chaotic and painful life, blue made me smile being silly. and now, when i want to get this goddamn rope i bought for them and hang myself in the balcony, adônis quietly sits on my legs and sleeps like an angel. cheetah watches me carefully too.

whoever you are, if you're reading this, can you understand me? they're the only family i have. they're all i got. i have no one, i never had. everyone left. no one understands. no one can even imagine how it feels to have the unique experience of being completely alone and helpless in a huge, cruel world. and they never will, and this world will never forgive me for being like this. for being born wrong, broken beyond repair. no one will stand by me.

but they will.

[kopivie]

oh and for the record, i don't hate god. i just don't understand why christianity and catholicism seem to use fear and punishment as its way of keeping people in line.

growing up, what made me happiest was engaging in honors with my friends. (for context, pathfinders to adventists is what boy/girl scouts are to literally everyone else, but with added evangelism, camping, outreach, etc.) i loved attending youth congress every january, where i could be in a fancy hotel and learn how to become a leader in my adventist community. i love -- and still love -- teaching drilling and marching and drumming in a drum corps. hell, my favorite method of evangelism was standing in a subway station with my club and singing and praying for people who just needed some comfort for the day.

what bothered me to my core was the constant need for the adults to whip us into shape using religious threats. what would god say? don't use his name in vain (which, for the record, is completely different from what i was told growing up). god hates transgender people. we will never hold gay marriages. even if you are gay and a dedicated adventist, we can fix that. bad things happen to you because god said it was supposed to happen to you.

ooh, and my all-time favorite: if you're depressed, just give it all to god and he'll fix it.

but i thought this was part of his plan? oh, was me being suicidal a step too far?

i fully understand that human beings need to cling on to something higher than themselves. that's why we have astrology and several different religions (nontheistic religions included). the feeling that the universe has something planned for you, or that some higher power will comfort you when no one else will is... a nice thought. even though i avoid church like the plague, i still find myself relinquishing my troubles to god in a pinch. (hell, i'm listening to gospel right now to ease my anxiety so i can focus on studying.)

the thing that steers me away from religion, however, is the lack of agency that i apparently have. god's time isn't working for me. the rest of the world isn't like me, might not know god the way i know him. the world doesn't function on god's clock -- the world functions on a 24-hour or 12-hour clock, okay? i have deadlines, payments to make, things at risk. i can't wait around for god to help me. and oh no, god forbid i get mad with god in my impatience – there are several stories in which people are harshly punished for that. it's almost like being a human being with natural emotions is punishable by death in lots of scenarios.

or in my case, punishable by social exile. bc in the end, the issue will always be with the churchgoers and not the deity itself. (in my story it's the other way around, but we move.) the people who watched me grow up, even close family friends, all treated me like a pariah because i did things like cut and dye my hair and get piercings. i was a babysitter and role model for many kids -- suddenly, their parents are telling them to stay away from me and giving me dirty looks. god's not doing that – the people are.

but that's how you end up with people like me; people who don't know where to direct their frustrations and anger and resentment. do i blame the people? do i blame god? do i blame myself? and if i withdraw my faith in god, can i stop feeling this terrible? where does his plan end and mine begin?

idk, man. religion is weird. you can see why i want to explore this idea of humans relying on themselves instead of a higher power that quite frankly, can't be trusted.

[bunny-heels]

giant vent post.

i think ive reached an actual breaking point. i havent had a breakdown this bad in such a long time and it stills feels horrible now as it did back then. i cant really think properly, not straight at least anyway. im going to ramble on and probably have a really hard time connecting everything together. but whatever.

at some point in my teens i developed a hyper self awareness. i would have that part of my brain that always thought rationally, like it was made up of a court of people or was some sort of other entity entirely. its always aware of what i was doing, if im doing something stupid, out of anger, irrational, selfish. its the "adult" part. it knows better than me, it knows right from wrong. and its not even like a "voice in the back of my head" or anything. its a very vocal and very upfront part of my brain thats there all the time. and it still is as im writing this. its never left.

my self awareness is really, really strong. it is pretty much my personal therapist. i think ive been through so much mental trauma in my life that my brain has just developed this as a safety net or firewall or whatever. and i mean it works a lot. only time it doesnt is when im really really depressed. like close to actually self harming or making a plan to kill myself levels.

i remember when i tried self-harming once, using really shitty dull scissors. that self-aware part of my brain was there the whole time, kept telling me this was a bad idea, there was no point in doing it and it would only hurt me and my loved ones if i succeeded in actually causing damage. i heard it the entire time. but i still went through with it and tried so hard to get through my own skin. i couldnt and i finally gave into the self aware and realized i shouldve listened to it sooner cause yeah, its not worth it to hurt myself just to regret it later.

my self awareness knew better like it always does. and like i said, its basically my therapist now. i barely even vent anymore because of it. i used to vent and rant a lot. i did it weekly pretty much because i had my little spaces where i thought i could let my emotions out and then i'd be able to go along with my day. then i had a friend of mine be passive aggressive towards me once because i guess they finally got sick of seeing of my rants on their timeline. and even my own mom told me i shouldnt be talking and showing my sensitive side so much online. then my stupid autism mistook someones joke for being real and i got so embarrassed i tried my best to seem like i was talking about someone else. and then i made friends with people where all they would do is rant and vent and rant and vent and rant and vent. and i got so, so tired of it to the point where i wanted to try everything i can to not be like them.

after that i barely ever ranted or vented again and only did it on very very very few occasions and only in places my friends could see. but every time i felt my emotions grow, my self aware side will just come in and be rational.

"dont think much about what these people online are doing, you know theyre just hateful and spiteful. theres no point in wasting your thoughts and emotions on them. do something you like instead."

"yeah the world is horrible right now. there are children dying and families being torn apart and innocent people being put through torture. and you feel guilty that you cant help them or that you dont deserve to be sad because youre not the one going through it. but its okay to be sad about people you dont know or how bad the world gets, and you dont need to justify your sadness. you know its different for everyone."

"you're reasonably upset about this thing, youre getting angry and there being no progress made is just making your mood worse. but font blow up. you know better than to yell at the people who dont and you dont want it to seem like youre annoyed with them or that you dont care. anger doesnt solve anything. you need patience and to be understanding. you shouldnt act extreme unless the situation really calls for it. then its justified."

if i have an urge to vent, i'll vent to my self awareness. if i get angry, my self awareness will calm me down. if i'm confused, my self awareness will look at everything it can. if i'm doing something i shouldn't, my self awareness lets me know. if i get bad impulses, my self awareness keeps me under control. my self awareness knows best. its the better half of me. its the part of me that i wish i could fully be 24/7. but i just cant.

and to be honest, my self awareness is also my enemy.

"i know you feel like venting but, look at all the problems these other people have. you dont need to talk about your problems with anyone. just use your brain and you'll be fine."

"theres already someone in this group that brings the mood down all the time. they talk negative about themselves and their life. you already feel bad for not being able to do anything. why add on to the list of people who cry and complain? you cant take care of your own issues just fine."

"is this the best time to be going to this person to vent and rant? i mean you have no idea what theyre doing right now. they could be busy, they could be in a good mood and you dont wanna bring them down. what if they dont even want to hear about your problems right now? its best if you just figure it out yourself for now. youre smart, you dont need other people when you already know what to do."

i remember in late elementary and during my whole middle school years, my mental health was the lowest its ever been. during middle school, almost every day was the same. i'd have an okay or mediocre time at school, i'd come home, feel relief for a bit and maybe hang out with friends, then all the sudden this wave of sadness flowed through me. it would hit hard and all at one. i would always have to get away from my computer, climb into bed, and cry. sometimes it was over something that happened at school, sometimes over something online, sometimes something at home, and sometimes for no reason. but it would always happen. no matter what.

i isolated myself when i cried. i hated people seeing or hearing me cry or tear up. i would get made fun of for crying in elementary school, whether if it was from bullying or having issues with class or the teacher. i was and am still really really sensitive. and i was always treated terribly every time i showed it. so when i got emotional or upset, i hid myself away. no one gets bothered by me and i get bothered by no one. eventually after learning some things about psychology and getting a bit of therapy, my brain trained on that and i learned to deal with my emotions all by myself. i didnt need to talk to anyone anymore, no more making someone feel bad or having my problems be ignored or getting made fun of for my emotions. from now on all my problems stayed my problems.

but i dont know how long i can keep going like this. i can rationalize a situation, i can regulate my emotions, i can do things at my own pace and never have to worry about burdening someone or myself ever again. im doing it all myself. im doing it alone.

i dont want to do it alone anymore.

i want to talk to people about my problems again. i want to rant and vent and ramble and scream about things that piss me off and make me upset. i wanna yell while i rant to my friends about something that made me angry. i wanna vent about having a shitty day. i wanna be able to message a friend and tell them i feel like shit. i wanna be able to call a friend while crying and saying that i wish things were better. i wanna be able to talk about how much the world sucks. i wanna have moments where i talk shit about myself, talk about how im a miserable piece of shit and that i dont deserve to be loved and cared for. i dont deserve friends or family, i dont deserve nice things, i dont deserve to have fun, or have medicine, or have people listen to me, or care about me. i wanna scream that i dont matter and that no one cares about me.

and all i want after that is just someone to hug me.

i dont want to hear rational explanations about the world, or about how life and feelings work, or how the human brain works, or how fair and unfair things can be. i dont want cold hard truth. i dont want blunt. my brain already does it for me. i know im being irrational, i know im just upset, i know im just depressed, i knows things are unpredictable and that life isnt a straight path and that not everything is simple and things cant be fixed that easily and that theres always gonna be hard moments and i just have to accept it. i know. i know i know i know.

just please. i just want a moment to he comforted.

i want someone to listen. i want someone to sit there in silence as they hear my begs and pleads. i want them to not say anything as i scream about how terrible everything is. i want them quiet as i complain that life is awful and things should be easier. i dont want them to interrupt while i talk shitty about myself and call myself a horrible person. i dont want them to talk. i want them to listen. i want them to hear me when i cry and listen when i go on and on and on.

and when im finally finished speaking, and im gasping for air as my throat is all raspy from how much and how high ive spoken, and my face is red and i have a massive headache and my eyes and cheeks are soaked in tears and my whole body hurts, i just want them to get up, be right in front or next to me, and hug me.

i want them to wrap their arms around me and squeeze me tight against them. for them to put their hand on the back of my head and on my mid back and stroke both of them. for them to put my face in the croak of their neck. and to just hear them breath and whisper

"its okay. everything will be okay."

and i'll cry again. i'll cry so hard my whole face will hurt. my eyes will be bloodshot, my face is hot and bright red, my nose is snotty and runny, my whole body is tired, i look like a disheveled mess. and i'll cry into their neck. i'll let it all out.

and i want them to be okay with that. i want them to let me let go. i want them to let me have my moment of breaking down. and when im tired from it all, i want them to soothe me and tell me that everything will be okay. that im not a bad person, that im not ugly, that its okay that im sensitive, that im not a burden, that i deserve to be loved and cared for, that its okay for me to cry, its okay for me to have these moments of weakness, that im not alone, that its okay for me to let it out.

that i dont have to care of myself anymore and theyll be there for me no matter what.

i'll have them and they'll have me.

but even now when im getting close to finishing this, feeling like i finally have let myself have a moment of vulnerability.

that voice comes back, it creeps in at the last few words.

"you do have people that care about you. of course theyre there for you. you know you have people that care. dont pretend they dont exist."

they do exist.

i know they exist.

but

what if theyre busy.

[allylikethecat]

l 🍍 🫐 🍋

Yesss another fruit emoji ask game for fic writers! Thank you so much for being the BEST and sending this my way (I'm also making the executive decision to also count it as Talk Shop Tuesday lol) if anyone else want to send a fruit emoji ask, OR reblog it themselves the list can be found HERE.

🍍 What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?

Hmmm I tend to like any AU that take place in a world that you can tell the author is extremely passionate about / knows a lot about. For example I LOVE Poses by @vinylandcoffeecollection (sorry not sorry for shouting out this fic again) which is a teacher AU, and I also LOVE The Producer George / TA Matty AU that @lookedlikethebins has been sharing snippets of for this same reason. I LOVE horses and compete in show jumping as an adult amateur, so I'm writing and Equestrian AU. The only AUs I don't like are when they feel half assed or like the author doesn't fully believe in the setting. Luckily, I can't think of any of those in this fandom everyone is so talented!

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

Ooooh this is hard. Can I say omegaverse / mpreg because I went looking for both of those tropes, couldn't find it, and then had to write it myself? If anyone else wanted to write either of those things I would be SO EXCITED and read it SO FAST and would also LOVE YOU FOREVER, just saying.

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

I am notoriously awful at writing spicy things. I'm going to need all the well wishes / emotional support for the upcoming On a Friday chapters and I apologize in advance for the disappointment. However, I really like when the power and size dynamics come into play, and things get a bit mean.

Thank you SO MUCH for reading and for sending in this fun fruit ask!! I hope you continue to enjoy my works (I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this week's On a Friday update!) and I hope that you are having a wonderful week!

❤️Ally

[pinkest-nekomata]

Finally gathering some words around my AFAB femme enbie experience, and a special thanks to the gender dysphoria bible for getting me over the line here.

Probably one of the more surprising developments of my gender journey has been that the more secure I’ve been in identifying as gender vague, gender queer, and nonbinary the more femme I’ve presented.

As I’ve followed what feels good, another key ingredient to gender euphoria to me has been some element of weird.

“I want to get neck tattoos,” I said, “So even when I’m on a zoom call people will know I’m Not Normal.”

I spent the first twenty four years of my life working incredibly hard to not appear weird. I received praise from my parents and adults for being “so mature” (which now I see as a red flag). I developed a constantly self-effacing attitude in social situations, working hard to create an easy conversation for everyone else. I was calm, sharp, self-aware. I would hedge and self-deprecate around my special interests, anticipate and proactively avoid complaints. I hated the arrogance and patronizing tone with which other “smart people” moved through the world.

I leaned into smart casual at work. A-line dresses, a retro bob. I wanted to be seen as fashionable, different, as caring about my clothing—but without spending tons of money or seeming too vain. I now refer to this as “dressing as the type of lesbian I wanted to date” era.

I walked a careful line when it came to femininity. I studied and worked in STEM, meaning the prettier I looked, the less likely I was to be taken seriously.

And as friendly as I was and am, I was also smart, cunning, driven, ambitious—and I wanted to be perceived that way. When I worked as an engineer, I would go out of my way to wear jeans and a polo (which, if I was honest with myself, I hated) to ensure I was taken seriously.

It chafed. I could never quite put my finger on why something felt “off”, even though on paper, dressing more androgynously theoretically should have been affirming to me.

Masculine elements were not foreign to me—I would have dreams where I was a man, and the emotional tenor was always curious neutrality. I had the sense that if I had been born a man, very little about me would be different. My me-ness ran much deeper than that.

When I write, I drift between masculine and feminine perspectives. Writing for me has always been a flow state—an unfolding of parts of myself that are usually suppressed, a safe place to explore emotions and identities and experiences that are unsafe or inaccessible in physical reality. Not everyone who writes the opposite gender inhabits that gender—but I do. I have written whole novels from the perspective of a man—not wondering what it’s like to be a man, but simply existing, expressing, experiencing as a man. (Though, not a particularly heteronormative man, to be fair.)

I never wished to be a man—but I did wish that being perceived as a woman did not bring with it expectations about my preferences and competencies.

It seemed at the time that my experience was well-explained by friction with misogyny, but there were other clues. The wordless not-rightness. An internal flinch whenever I was included in a “thanks ladies” or a “oh a girls meeting”, even at the same time as I felt strangely distant from the more masc-oriented women in my workplace.

I was, on some level, jealous that they were more comfortable in polos and jeans, more awkward in a blouse and skirt.

I felt the most affinity with our office manager, who wore flowing sundresses from Anthropologie and carried herself with feminine strength and warmth.

Meanwhile, I would reach for a dress in the morning and then correct myself—No, you see clients today. Better to be taken seriously.

The shifts happened slowly—and then in lurches. I realized I had ADHD, and then autism. I started to trace all the ways that I’d been compensating, all the signs that I’d never really fit in.

And with great relief, the thought settled over me—“I have never been particularly good at hiding how weird I am.” Now I understand it wasn’t just relief—it was a little jolt of gender euphoria.

I have never thought about gender a cis amount. But my flavor of autism means I think about most things more than most people do, and I had never hated being a girl, and I had never wished to be a man. “Non-binary” had still be framed to me as a matter of androgyny, but terms like “gender vague” and “auti-gender” and “demigirl” started to illuminate my path.

I felt simultaneously a disconnect with my gender and a not-yet-realized sense that my gender was so much broader than I realized—that it included my autism, my weirdness, my enthusiasm, my sarcasm, my interests, my intensity, my me-ness.

The switch to remote work with the pandemic left most of my closet irrelevant. When I was going to bother dressing up, it was for me. I bought goth dresses and thigh highs, mini skirts and crop tops. I reclaimed the adolescence I’d never had. I slowly learned how to do my makeup—something I’d spent hours trying at in high school, then scrubbed off in frustration, more terrified of looking like I’d tried and failed than that I didn’t care to try at all.

And it felt right. And I started getting tattoos—and then I didn’t stop getting tattoos. I donated one batch of work clothes, then another. I figured out I was bisexual and I’d been dressing like someone I wanted to be with, not who I was.

This essay was in part inspired by trying to figure out why I feel such a strong affinity with trans women. “I walked through the valley of gender fuck and emerged in bows and skirts”, I wrote last week, my way of cheering a group of trans women being excited about dresses.

It felt too fraught to say, I get this feeling. I love dresses in this same way. In a trans way. Not in a cis way.

I insisted on wearing a dress to school every day until the second grade, and really the only reason I stopped was undiagnosed sensory issues—when I realized that I could just wear a bike short and a t-shirt and be surrounded in cotton, that became my new obsession.

But I wore dresses in the dirt, dresses chasing bugs, skorts on the soccer field, bows with frogs on them. I knew, from a very young age, that “girl” did not feel quite right—but it did not feel quite wrong, either. And if “girl” didn’t feel right, then that meant I was supposed to be a tom boy and hate dresses and parties and cooking and makeup and dolls—but I didn’t hate any of those things. I just also loved heavy machinery and science and paintball. And, importantly, I wanted to be perceived as someone who loved all of those things at the same time. I wanted the very facts of my presentation to challenge people’s assumptions.

I have thought about, and wrestled with, and chafed at gender in a way that cis women have not. I have felt a rush of gender euphoria in adulthood and have a deep, deep appreciation of how much a skirt, a dress, an eyeshadow palette can mean to someone who is finding themselves in adulthood.

Also, thanks to genetically small breasts and an ED phase, I have also experienced watching my body gain/redistribute weight in a way that is gender-affirming. I can finally buy bras off-the-rack now. (Sort of. 38A is a specialty size, but the right 36B works.)

In retrospect, I can see how I always knew that I was a non-binary person and I was attempting to present in a way that non-binary people are supposed to—androgynous, practical. Dressing femme in a “normal” way felt wrong, too. But femme on my terms—weird femme, autistic femme, queer femme, hyper femme, divine femme—feels right. It feels like it can encompass and express the power, presence, and vitality for which I lacked an outlet for so long.

Alt fashion has given me a way for my gender presentation to say, I am not what society tried to make me. I cannot be told what to be. I don’t play by your rules.

I made a little “wheel of genders” for days I’m feeling indecisive. “Cottage core”, “high witch”, “bubblegum goth” and “athleisure” are a few of the options. And even on sweatpants days, bright pink hair and a rapidly growing collection of tattoos (my own form of bodily transition) are always sure to say, I am not normal.

While I may appear to have gone from subverting stereotypes to embracing (some of) them, my inner journey has been one of attempting to comply with stereotypes and then breaking out of them—as so many other trans people experience.

My goal in sharing this, other than to affirm to myself in so many words, I am nonbinary, is that it might resonate with someone else going through something similar.

I’ve read and read and read through definitions and descriptions of what it’s like to be nonbinary (another distinctly not-cis thing to do), looking for a glimmer of recognition. And slowly I collected those glimmers into a beam of light that’s guiding me now. And I hope my story can be a glimmer for somebody else, too 💕

[emptypassicn-moved]

Mole is not fond of his actual name. Therefore, he introduces himself as "Mole" or "Ze Mole". He has basically everyone refer to him as "Mole" even if they are aware of his actual name. Also, due to this, most people won't learn his actual name through him but rather through someone else or, during the time he's a child, if they hear it from his mother.

His mother was aware of the "Mole" nickname but never used the nickname. This made her the only person to always call him "Christophe".

His mother is the only person he's genuinely and fully intimidated by. While he becomes less intimidated by her as he grows older it does still remain to some degree, even as an adult.

Not a headcanon since it is canon but I feel a need to include it somewhere about him. Mole is a misotheist. He does believe in God's existence but he is someone who hates God and doesn't believe God is some sort of paragon of good. He believes God is cruel and is to blame for everything wrong in the world.

His experience being mauled and briefly dying from it caused him to develop cynophobia and avoid all dogs or canine like creatures. If he does encounter a dog there's a high chance he will react violently. It doesn't matter what dog or who's dog. He does not like dogs at all.

He doesn't emote much outwardly. Most of the time he remain with a fairly neutral or annoyed looking expression. He will, of course, give things like small smiles but how he's feeling doesn't come across in his expression all that often. Unless he's genuinely angry or annoyed.

He does try to keep his work as a mercenary, as well as his other forms of work, hushed as an adult. He would have tried as a child but kind of couldn't in South Park due to the war. He does this for both his own safety and the safety of those he cares about.

He does not have a formal education and has never attended a "proper" school a day in his life. He was "homeschooled" by his mother until he was about sixteen (16).

He seems to almost always have his shovel, even during times he doesn't need it or when he's going someplace he probably shouldn't take it.

Due to the characters Gregory and himself were originally inspired by Mole did have some sort of interest in Gregory when they were younger. These potential feelings ended after the events of the war due to his feelings about what occurred.

Due to the events of the war he also actively distanced himself from everyone he could have been considered friends with or close to for a while after. What happened left him feeling betrayed and like he'd been used and he was afraid of it happening again for a bit to say the least.

He doesn't share the fact he died during the war with very many people so most people are unaware of the fact it occurred. This is something he even avoids telling people he considers himself close to.

In most verses with Mole as an adult he has a cat named "Lutin Des Ordures". This cat is a gremlin, a little creature. He's called "Lutin" for short but won't really respond when called that.

@emptypassicn