#is this a form of self harm why do I do this to myself and to him too

[phantommarigold]

me when I want to say something and type out a whole long thing and then decide actually I'm not good enough to talk about this or no they don't want to hear it and ah but what if I'm wrong of course I'm talking from a place of privilege and ignorance and my worldviews are too black and white and

[lovethisfatcryptid]

Why do I always want to fight my jealousy by fucking a stranger when I know I'll just hate myself afterwards? It's very uncomfortable sitting with my feelings and I feel like I need to do something about it.

[selenoplexia]

logging back in just bc this is my only private diary

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[meanbossart]

What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?

(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)

Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".

They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.

But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.

I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?

This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.

And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.

But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.

[mindfulstudyquest]

here's the reason you procrastinate

based on Fuschia Sirois' research

everyone procrastinate at some point. research suggests that almost 1 in 4 people procrastinate on a fairly regular basis, and the rates are even higher among college and university students ( 50% of them procrastinate regularly and about 85-90% do so occasionally ).

because procrastination is so common we tend not to put too much thought into it, in the end what is the problem? it's just delay.

well, it's not. actually procrastination is harmful delay ( so defined by the researchers ); it is a form of delay which is:

voluntary

unnecessary

involves important tasks which you intended to do

people often underestimate the consequences of procrastination and how debilitating and harmful it can be. if you delay dealing with ( for example ) your academic works, of course you can expect some negative results in that area, but what about the collateral consequences of it?

research has shown that people who have problems with procrastination have low physical and mental health and practice less healthy behaviors. they deal with depression, stress and anxiety.

just think about the enormous amount of stress that procrastination brings: first of all, constantly chasing deadlines. deadlines can nag anyone, even those who don't struggle with delaying, but then it ends, the job is turned in, and everything goes back to normal. for procastinators this is not the case, they will keep putting off important things and will constantly end up with an imminent deadline.

so, if it's so harmful for your health, why do people do it? some people think it's about laziness or poor time managment, but actually:

laziness isn't procrastination. if you're lazy you don't have the energy to do anything, instead procrastinators are always busy with a thousand non-essential tasks to do, in fact they avoid doing one specific task, not every task ( for example if i need to study, but i'm procrastinating it, i end up cleaning my room )

poor time managment it's actually a symptom of procrastination, not a cause.

from a psychological perspective the origins of procrastination are rooted in negative emotions and the urge to cope with them through avoidance. so actually procrastination is about poor mood managment, not poor time managment.

procrastination starts when we have a task that's unpleasant, but we have to do it. and we use procrastination then as a way to get relief from those negative emotions associated with the task, so basically it's not even about avoiding the task, but it's about avoid the negative emotions that we associate with the task.

we need to avoid stress and aversive feeling that come with the task, especially when we don't feel like we can manage those negative emotions at the moment. so we take the task, we put it aside, and it's instant relief. it's fast, it's easy and it works for a little while, then that sense of shame, guilt and self-blame starts to kick in.

so why do we keep procrastinating? for that sense of relief, because that made us feel rewarded and we tend to repeat behaviors that rewarded us. this can easily lead to a cycle of procrastination.

however, the negative thoughts that we have ( "why didn't i start earlier?", "i'm letting myself down" etc. ) don't actually make us take action. they just add layers of layers on pre-existing negativity.

so how do you get out of the procastination cycle?

go back to valuing your task, if it's so important that you do it, remind yourself why you are doing it

remember that we tend to overestimate the discomfort that a given challenge will bring us. probably your task isn't even that time-consuming, unpleasant and frustrating

be compassionate and and forgive yourself, it's an effective strategy to reduce the negative emotions associated with the task. you are not the first nor the last person to procrastinate, we are all human and we all make mistakes. research has shown that doing so reduces the risk of procastination.

hope you enjoyed this little explanation, here's my sources: https://youtu.be/xTEPNxx0MsA

[missmastectomy]

I was hesitant to write this post, but I want to talk about why so many women and teenage girls are getting double mastectomies.

The justification a lot of trans people use for elective double mastectomies is that "top surgery" helps people feel comfortable in their bodies. Traditionally, this surgery was restricted to transmen. In the recent decade, however, nonbinary identified and even non-trans identified women have been getting mastectomies. I remember clear as day when my coworker (who identified as a "cis" woman) told me that at 18 she was planning on saving for top surgery. I myself got my breasts removed when I identified as nonbinary, having been on testosterone for 2 years.

It's important to remember that no person is born wanting surgery. Society creates conditions that are hostile to women, GNC, and gay people, and this hostility encourages a dissociated state. The body is removed from the mind - instead of the body being an intrinsic part of your personhood, a mechanism through which we experience the world, it instead becomes ornamental. This is perfectly represented by all forms of non-reconstructive cosmetic surgery, which risk people's health for entirely aesthetic reasons.

So, why do teen girls want to remove their breasts? For those of who experienced unwanted sexual advances from a young age, the answer is intuitive. Breasts are inherently sexualized. They are not seen as a vital organ that contributes to bodily function and health, but as a decoration, the only purpose of which is to attract men and feed babies. In this way, a woman's breasts do not even belong to her. When men openly gawk at a woman without a bra, when relatives grope at her as a pubescent girl, when we are exposed to an endless stream of hyper-sexualized images of women with their cleavage out, a message is sent loud and clear: existing in a female body is unsafe.

I want to make it very clear that an elective mastectomy and the practices of breast ironing are very different, but there are commonalities in the attitudes behind both. Breast ironing is done to pubescent girls in order to "prevent" her being sexually assaulted or harassed by men, sometimes including male relatives. When I hear stories of girls in the West starving themselves and binding to hide their chests, I can't help but see similarities. When I was binding and restricting calories as a 15 year old, I would have said I was doing it so that I could pass as a man. But I would have been lying to you. I was lying to myself. I didn't hate my breasts because I was "born in the wrong body." I hated my breasts because they were used to justify my sexualization. From my perspective they put me in danger.

We often hear that women's rights in the West have been secured, but you need only look at the war on women's bodies to see that that is a fantasy. When young girls constantly receive the messaging that your curves and boobs WILL attract men and that you will be objectified for it, many will try to opt out.

Take Liv Hewson, for example.

She says herself that her anorexia was a manifestation of "gender dysphoria," but the question remains - where did this dysphoria come from? Why would anorexia develop as an outlet for it? What makes more sense: a young woman was born hating her body and her breasts because she has a gendered, non-female soul, or that same woman hates her body because she has been conditioned as such by a patriarchal society, the same society that encourages extreme self harm and body modification through a multi-billion dollar cosmetic industry?

Gender dysphoria in young women needs to be demystified. It's not special, it's not unique. It is NOT evidence that she needs invasive surgery or steroids to feel comfortable in her body. It is evidence that she is in pain. In order to address the rising rate of transition in young women, we must first acknowledge the conditions that nurture this form of self-hatred.

Transition IS a feminist issue. It is just as relevant in Western feminism as tackling the beauty industry, female sexualization, and violence perpetrated against women through porn. All of these issues are deeply interconnected. When we approach dysphoric women with compassion and encourage them to perceive their bodies as a part of themselves that deserves to remain intact and whole, rather than as their enemy, we take a necessary step towards female liberation.

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #4

Light My Fire

kinktober day four | temperature play & monsterfucking (?) | cw: 18+, self-explanatory. Good!Loki is a Jötun and Avenger!You have fire powers. Rather fluffy, just two dorks in love goofin' | word count 2k | click here for full list of planned fics | author's note under the cut |

“Darling, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You are occasionally a little over 8 feet tall and very cold and blue. I am average tall but set myself on fire regularly without repercussions. I think we passed these sorts of questions a good while ago.” You pointedly bit into your toast, watching Loki watching you over the rim of his teacup.

Why did he insist on having tea from one specific antique tea set - and having to refill the cup at least five times in the process - instead of getting a mug like a normal person, you did not know.

Slumped over your breakfast in your Garfield pajamas, you eyed your boyfriend pat the corner of his mouth with his monogrammed kerchief before he vanished it away and stood up. His green button-up clung to his chest deliciously.

“Such a way with words.” Loki chuckled and patted over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “But I see your point. We could either seriously harm each other or end up having a wonderful, one-of-a-kind experience.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded. He stole a piece of toast and pointed it at your nose, tapping the appendage gently with the hard crust. “And Tony would never forgive us if we at least did not try.”

“Since when do you care about what Tony thinks?”

Loki gave you an impish look. “He's not all terrible. Remember the time he 3-D printed an exact replica of Mjolnir and I haunted Thor the entire day with it?”

“Thor had a mental breakdown.” You replied dryly even as your mouth involuntarily curled into a smirk.

Loki, however, gave a wide smile. “Uh-uh. Tony filmed the entire thing start to finish.”

A chuckle broke out of you before you could stop it. You liked Thor, you ready did, but that had been just a single instance of mischief in the multiple-century long prank war between the brothers. The blonde had gotten you several times in the process of getting back at Loki and you would be lying if you didn't feel vindicated for all those times you had found glitter in odd places and worse...

Not that you yourself lacked your fair share of questionable life decisions. Having fiery super-powers, being an Avenger, being Loki's girlfriend, challenging Natasha to a knife throwing competition... The list goes on. So what if you wanted your icy boyfriend to be icy in bed? So what if he wanted your fiery self be fiery in bed? They do say opposites attract and yada-yada-yada...

“Makes me wonder what the fire giants look like,” you said absent-mindedly later that night while the two of you lounged in your oversized tub. You rolled a small fireball in your palm as Loki sipped his wine.

“Like demons,” he snorted. “Nothing attractive about them.”

“Some would say demons are attractive,” you shrugged. “I think Jötuns are attractive.” Using your free hand, you squeezed a slender, muscular thigh. Loki flexed it and you ran your knuckles over the hard muscle. “Although you're the only one I've seen. Might have to tell Tony to ban any more from Earth least they come to steal all the women away, being this handsome.”

Loki's cool hand reached up over your stomach to idly toy with your breast. “Is that so? Is my Asgardian form not as stimulating?” He mused.

You pushed into the touch, purring. “There's just more of you to love, babe.”

His unmistakable laugh filled up the bathroom, genuine amusement as he flicked at your nipple and leaned down to kiss your neck. “I do not think that is anatomically possible.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “Ye of little faith! Have you been on the internet? Anything is possible, provided there is an adequate amount of lube and some leverage.”

The internet - surprise, surprise - was wrong. Loki expressed an unfair amount of amusement at this, and you daredsay, even gloated a little bit. Shutting him up in this form was harder than when he was regular Loki, but not doable. It was, as you both had agreed, a learning curve.

He was cold to touch. Not as a metal pole at a ski resort as you had previously thought, but enough to cause a pleasant, clean chill to settle in the back of your skull as you took the tip of his hard, blue cock intro your mouth. That was about as much as you could fit without going full Chelsea Smile around it. Your hands, kept warm by your powers, slid down his shaft, tender fingertips tracing the textured ridges covering every inch of his skin.

They were truly everywhere, and they were sensitive. Splayed on the various animal skins in front of the fireplace, Loki was a sight to behold: all cerulean blue and raven-haired, red eyes lidded with desire as they observed your exploration with mirrored curiosity. As you warm hands curled around him, a low hiss left his lips.

Attempting to say, “did that hurt?” with your mouth so full was a disaster. Loki chuckled anyway, and brought a large, cool palm to rest atop your head.

“No, darling,” his voice, in this form little more than a low growl, did something indecent to your insides. “Feels incredible.” A sigh as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head. “I surely wish you'd let me at least keep my Asgardian measurements...”

Yes, but no. It would have been more practical, sure, but it wasn't the full Jötun experience you were seeking. With a wet pop, you dislodged your mouth from his cock to delight in his full-body shiver. To remedy the lack of your mouth, heat began to radiate from your palms; roughly the same temperature as the inside of your mouth.

“Not unless you are on board with me keeping the fire lukewarm,” you teased gently, watching his red eyes darken to a lovely burgundy. Slowly, you slid your hands over his lubricated flesh.

Loki was generous with his microexpressions in this form, with him being larger allowing for easier observation. Lust, love, yearning, a dash of insecurity and concern. He was your Loki through and through, simply blue.

“I fear I may have less allocated space for patience in this form,” he mused.

Captivating. His reclined position and the fire dancing over his skin, the horns growing tall and strong above his forehead - the helmet imitation did them no justice - Loki was a vision to behold. You wanted to eat him like the world's most exotic ice lolly and ride that fanged mouth until you forgot your own name and knew only his.

“Fuck,” you eloquently summarised your train of thought just as your hands stroked him to full mast. Loki merely tilted his head. Knowing that look well, you batted your eyelashes and gave him the final stroke before shamelessly climbing up onto his lap.

You wore nothing but a thigh-length slip of fine Asgardian silk, just like you knew he liked. Your hot, glistening cunt connected with the shaft of his cock as you settled above it, eliciting a sigh of wanton relief. Loki felt like a bag of frozen goods. You wanted to press him against everything sore.

His large, cold palm stroked the side of your face.

“Mmm,” you leaned into it, unconsciously shifting your hips to press closer to the textured hardness of his cock. It twitched as your wetness joined the spit you'd previously covered it in. Some adjusting was to be had - Loki waited patiently as you found your spot, and used his other hand to make you sit down just right. With that first, slow, slick grind, both of you were gone.

It came naturally. Loki's hands on your hips, on your face, sliding your slick cunt over the tip of his own leaking cock. His abs flexed with each measured movement; you kept your palms in closed fists, knowing better than to open them when you were this riled up.

Hurting each other was both of yours' biggest fears and it showed in the way you'd swallowed some of your moans upon feeling the beginnings of a spark crackle on your tongue. Loki refused to take his darkening eyes off your face for he would definitely lose himself in the moment and do... Something.

The intensity of your coupling grew. Your cunt provided ample lubrication on the account of your clitoris receiving all that extra stimulation from the ridges and valleys covering his cock. On harder thrusts, the very tip of his cock snagged the edge of your entrance, causing him to growl and you to whine when your hungry hole was forced to relent and clench around nothing.

It was exhilarating torture. Your cries of pleasure, as usual, only spurred the Jötun prince on.

As you arched your back and moaned loudly and brokenly up to the ceiling at a particularly hard thrust, Loki's deep growling added to the delightful cacophony of sex. He firmly held your hips, sharp nails digging into the meat of your ass, and pushed you down on his cock, missing your hole by sheer luck.

“Come for me, darling,” he rasped in that icy-sharp, husky voice. “I can feel your little quim begging for me. I may not be able to resist fucking you if you cry for me so sweetly.”

Never being the one to disobey reasonable orders, you and your abused pussy gushed your agreements as heat burst from your lower stomach and spread into your body and limbs. Loki's drawn-out hiss had you weakly trying to scramble, to get away from him least your elevated temperature burn the Jötun, but he held steadfast.

Eyes so deeply red they were almost black, Loki looked you directly in the face before his cock twitched for the last time.amd coated his chest and your front with an abundance of silver seed. His body shook with restraint even when his mouth had fallen lax and eyes lidded low; he let you rock forward to rest a hand on his hard chest as both of you caught your breath.

Giving into your body's demands, you fell ahead, uncaring of the mess. Immediately, a cold arm draped itself over you. A moment of silence was had. You licked your dry lips, sputtering somewhat as sticky - but not unpleasant - seed made way into your mouth.

“Are you alright?” Loki drawled, still breathless.

You briefly contemplated the phrasing of what you were about to say, but in the end decided to be completely honest as you two had sworn to be to each other.

“Your come tastes like snow. Literal snow.”

You heard Loki's heart skip a beat and then his chest shook, the chuckle as incredulous as your discovery.

“Noted.” Pause. “Yours feels like lava.”

Despite everything, you simply shook your head and laughed. “That's what were writing down in our science report for Tony?”

“Yes.” Loki nodded seriously. With a careless swipe of his hand, the mess disappeared, and you promptly found yourself staring at the ceiling. “Experiment number two. I am going to find out whether it also tastes like lava,” he said impishly.

Your tummy clenched in anticipation, but then you heard the proverbial sound of brakes skidding in your head. “Wait. How do you know what lava tastes like?”

“I be in situations,” ever the dutiful boyfriend, Loki mumbled his reply into the fat above your cunt on his way down to make you see stars once again. You were not complaining at all.

a/n: I'm personally very impartial to Loki being a little over 8 feet tall in his Jötun form. For, you know, reasons. My nature's pocket can fit a lot of fun things in it, but I don't know about yours so... I left the fine details to your imagination. See how I don't describe the size of his appendage? Very demure, very mindful. ✨

Additionally, I don't think Asgard has a book on erogenous zones of peoples they conquered and genocided. I'd like to think that they're both clueless here and Loki is getting to know his Jötun body in a sexual setting. But that's just me.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Really.

req: basically Luke and fem!reader being in a relationship but never actually slept together or in general he never saw her without a shirt or hoodie, because the reader is afraid Luke will be mad or disgusted by the scars on her arms. And the request is Luke's reaction to her scars.

Warnings: self harm scars, talk of self harm, angst to fluff.

MASTERLIST

You were terrified, really. It was in the past, yes, but what if Luke or everyone else in camp found them horrid, disgusting? The thoughts had always lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn’t escape them. You found no solution, so you hid them.

You’d always hidden them from him, anytime you even came close to anything that involved you taking your shirt or hoodie off, you ran the other way, trying to avoid such events from even happening.

It was a secret that had weighed heavily on your heart.

You were training with him, deep in the woods, hidden by all the forage. You smiled when you saw him, him giving you a small smile back.

His sword clashed with your own, you letting out a grunt as you put all your strength into your arm, pushing against him.

“You know,” he started, hitting your sword when you went to attack. “It’s hot as hell out here?”

You huffed, going to attack him again. “Yeah? So what?”

“So, why are you still wearing a hoodie?” He asked you while he disarmed you, your sword falling to the ground.

“It’s not that bad.” You mumbled, bending over to grab your fallen sword. “Plus, I like being comfy-“

“You say that every time.” He tilted his head to the side, his hands folded over his chest, sword training now forgotten.

“Because it’s true.” You groaned, looking at him. “I thought we came here for sword training, not fucking q-and-a.”

“I can’t ask my girlfriend a question now?” He raised his eyebrow.

“You can. Just not when you already know my answer.”

He shrugged, getting back into his fighting stance, you doing the same.

You both continued to spar, nothing out of the ordinary. That was until he knocked you to the ground, you wincing and missing the way that your hoodie sleeve had gone down to your elbow during the fall.

“Sorry, you okay?” He asked you, holding out a hand to help you up, when he noticed some strange marks on your wrists that faced up now. You grabbed your sword, and then grabbed his hand. You stumbled up, brushing off your pants.

“What was that?” He asked you, voice laced with concern, still looking at your now hoodie covered arms.

“That was you kicking my ass.” You snorted, confused as to what he was asking. You followed his gaze to your arm, and your heart skipped a beat. You looked back up to the boy, swallowing.

“No, there- there was marks- like scars, on your arm, y/n. What happened?” He asked, going closer to you.

You tried to laugh it off, play it off like he saw something that wasn’t there. But he knew what tone saw.

“There’s nothing there, Luke.” You spoke. His eyebrows creased at your response.

“I’m not crazy, y/n. What happened? Tell me. Please.” He responded, voice quiet this time, almost a whisper. His hand reached for yours, and he looked up at you.

You knew he was stubborn, and that he wouldn’t stop when it came to you. You tensed as his hands gently went to your sleeves, pulling them up slowly and carefully. His mouth went agape, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

He stared for what felt like an eternity, until finally looking up at you, your eyes teary, glossed over. You snapped them shut, body trembling.

“They’re old. I used to…” you sniffled. “Cut myself.”

“Y/n.” He felt like his heart had shattered when you let out a sob. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you sob into his chest.

“Hey, look at me, alright?” He murmured once your sobs had quieted down, his hand going to gently grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” You simply replied.

“You were scared of what?”

“That… you would be repulsed by them. Like… they would make you disgusted of me or something.”

He frowned at you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “Y/n, this wouldn’t ever make me disgusted of you. I don’t think anything can, really.” He murmured, watching you sniffle, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Really?” You squeaked out. He nodded. “Really.”

You both stayed like that, in a comfortable silence. You felt the weight lift off of you, no longer burdened by it.

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hii, i was wondering if you could write platonic Aizawa emergency request in which hr has a daughter ho has veen strugling with self harm and su1cidal thoughts, please.

I had been really low latly and i relapes after 7 months of not self harming.

Thanks love 🩷

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that you've been struggling lately, Nonnie. Remember, setbacks are a part of recovery, and it's okay to ask for help when you need it. You've made progress before, and you can do it again. Sending you love and support ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Aizawa is incredibly protective and caring towards you, his precious daughter.

He always makes time for you, even with his busy schedule as a pro hero and teacher at U.A.

Aizawa is observant, noticing even the slightest changes in your behavior.

One day, he accidentally walks in on you wrapping your wrists in bandages after harming yourself, and he's filled with terror.

Despite his fear, he immediately approaches you, sitting down beside you on the bed. "What's going on?" he asks straightforwardly, his voice laced with concern. "Why are you doing this to yourself, sweetheart"

You look up at him, your Y/E/C eyes filled with pain and uncertainty. "I... I just can't handle it anymore," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You explain that the pressure of hero studies and internships has been weighing heavily on you, and you don't know know how to cope anymore. "One day, I accidentally hurt my hand... and... it felt so good... like all my stress was relieved," you begin, tears streaming down your flushed face. "So I started doing this... from time to time... and... I couldn't stop... I was punishing myself for not being perfect, daddy," you say, your sobs becoming uncontrollable.

Aizawa listens attentively, his heart breaking at the thought of his daughter struggling alone. Without hesitation, he offers his unwavering support, reassuring you that you're not alone in this, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your trembling form as he offers you the tightest hug he can.

You hug him back tightly, whimpering, "I'm sorry, daddy, I'm so sorry!"

As you're held in his arms, you don't notice the tears streaming down Shota's face as he comforts you. He soothes you with gentle words and his presence, rocking you back and forth in his arms. "You're perfect just the way you are," he assures, clearing his throat to hide the hoarseness in his tone from the tears he shed for you. "We're in this together. You're not alone. We're a team. Always remember that you can come to me with all your problems, even the ones that seem small or irrelevant. Your problems are mine too. I'm your dad, and I'll do whatever I can to help you. Always."

You nod, listening to your dad's words. "I didn't want to bother you with..."

He interrupts you, shushing you, gently cupping your wet cheeks in his hands and making you meet his gaze. "You are never a bother. Never. You're my entire world, babygirl."

Aizawa makes sure to prioritize your well-being, adjusting his schedule to spend more time with you and offering words of encouragement whenever you need them.

He often says sweet little things like "I love you, sweetheart" or "you mean the world to me." He also praises your efforts, saying things like "you did very well on this test. I know you worked hard for a good grade, but even if it's not what you expected, remember that grades don't define your skills, knowledge, or spirit."

Through your journey, Aizawa learns to open up more to you, strengthening your bond and creating a safe space for you to express all of your feelings.

Even though Aizawa is hesitant at first, after realizing the seriousness of the situation, he doesn't hesitate to ask his friends for help.

And of course, they respond.

Hizashi visits Aizawa's apartment every day, bringing groceries and always having a little sweet snack for you that he knows you enjoy.

Despite the challenges you both face, Aizawa remains by your side, ready to support you through every step of your recovery journey.

[froggibus]

Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)

“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)

Genre: fluff/kinda crack?

CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)

been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!

————

Cassidy:

“what kinda question is that??”

looks at you in flabbergastation 

you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks 

“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”

a jar????

now you’re the flabbergasted one 

jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate?? 

what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??

somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm

somehow finds one?? 

keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm

even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”

weirdly wholesome experience would try again

Reaper

“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”

he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth 

would he love you as a worm? 

“what kind of worm”

what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter?? 

obviously the pink wriggly kind 

he has to ponder this 

sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm

“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”

????

“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”

more pondering 

“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”

better than any response you could have expected but would not try again

Genji

“would we still have sex”

please hit this man

he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird 

“why would you be a worm tho”

just answer the question, Genji

green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer 

will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??

“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”

“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>

“that too”

at least he’s honest?

exactly as you expected, would not try again

Zenyatta

“a worm? like the insect?”

“yes? what other worms are there”

considers this

“is everything okay?”

poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm??? 

please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm

goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take

honestly so wholesome + cute 

“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”

good enough would try again

Ramattra 

“No”

way to sugarcoat it, babe

it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap

“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”

you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm

talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour 

says he would “put you out of your misery”????

“you would KILL ME?!”

“as an act of honour”

babe….

0/10 would not try again

Hanzo

“why”

idk bro just answer the question 

lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose

“would I also be a worm or am i still human” 

only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm

probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love 

“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”

has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict 

lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes 

“…yes”

cute in the end but would not try again 

Lucio:

“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”

that’s not the question 

somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self? 

he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong 

“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”

“ok and??”

says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil

“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”

makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night 

honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again

Baptiste:

“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”

honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation 

“but what if I want to be a worm”

“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”

fair enough

insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm 

makes a lot of jokes at your expense too

finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need 

“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”

“love is a strong word”

good enough, would not try again

[mitsua]

Redamancy

Loving someone who loves you back.

🪼: so this was supposed to be an Izuku snapping at reader but I couldn't bring myself to write about this man being mad... I´m sorry not sorry but maybe in the future I could actually get that done. Maybe? Idk today I wanted to cry myself to sleep.

Warnings: rude people, mentions of self-depricating thoughts (but none explicitly written), low self-steem, crying

Genre: reverse comfort Series: Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × GN! Y/N Words' count: 1.26k

Izuku's known as a selfless man, a selfless hero—your selfless hero at that.

He's always looking out closely while on patrol to do not let the slightest suspicious thing get out of his sight and catch danger in any form that may present itself, day by day.

People recognize him, greet him, smile polightly, shout excitedly, ask for a photograph with him, a signature—yes, his status has really given him a grand popularity.

But just as much as he greets back, gives small chats, returns a bright smile, shouts back, takes photographs and gives off signatures, he also encounters rude people every once in a while.

He brushes it off, he really tries to when it does so happen.

His first thought being 'they might just have a bad day, everyone has it!', always empathazing and letting people's disrespect get lost in the wind.

Until that wind comes back in a hurricane when the bad day hits him instead.

He brushes it off, or so he thinks. But he knows and you know too—everything anyone's ever told him got into him one way or another.

Thus making him the person you're so proud of to call today your husband, yes, you admit Izuku has this great mindset of turning the imposible—even if it's with tiny steps—a little more possible with progress.

He has a contagious positivity, you know it and he knows it.

'Then why can't I be positive today too? They need reassurance,' he thinks as he just got on a mission out of the city on places were being too powerful or too weak were seen badly.

He's tried greeting, smiling, but has only received scoffs and some offensive comments towards heroes in general. A tiny percentage of the poblation going too far and talking about him in specific being the last drop to spill the glass.

He gets in his hotel room—after being ignored by the workers when he entered and gave a small 'goodnight' out of his habit of being polite—plops in the bed and moves his hands to rest on top of his eyes.

'Don't cry,' he pleads himself. 'They're way more debastated here, you must show a reassuring attitude to let them see heroes mean no harm.'

A tear falls, then a second one and a third one.

It's not until he's fully sobbing with all the harsh emotions he bottled up in the day or even when he was still in the city that he hears his phone had your shared favorite song as your contact's ringtone that he stops spiralling further. A videocall from you.

"Hi! I just wanted to call to tell you goodnight quickly, I know you must be tire-" a sob. You heard him sob once, then twice.

"Izuku?" You got worried, he still hadn't said anything and he got his camera turned to the ceiling that could barely be seen due to the lack of light in the room.

Thinking he might have had a rough day you come up with a quick plan to help him.

"Hey, I know you're usually the one talking but I'll kindly request to do so tonight," you ask and even though he didn't answer either way you spoke again, "alright, and-well, I know I said I'll talk but I'd like to do something else as well..."

For a moment there was complete silence, then bed sheets being shifted around and a couple of grunts coming from your side. It gave Izuku's mind the chance to start wondering towards self-depricating thoughts again, until he heard something close to a documental.

"Aaand with that final blow Pro-hero Deku achieves victory and citizens' safety once again! ...Watch him throw his fist in the air meaning peace has been brought to us again!" A male commenter's vivid voice declared. "Deku helped a grown adult cross the sidewalk, look at this cute pictures!" Then a female's. "Oh, I'd kill to get Deku to patrol in my city," a foreigner's voice mentioned exhasperatedly.

You were showing him a copilation of videos fans of his had made of all his greatest and little heroic actions. Each of them spoke so highly of him—discussed and analyzed his movements and in-the-moment decisions through and through—just as he once did with the heroes he admired. He now was one of them, people admire him.

He could see and feel people's positivity reaching out to him, to help him too. By now, his tears had stopped, only a few sniffles could be heard.

"And last but not least," you whispered to do not break the comforting low volume tonight's call has had, "So, what do you think about Deku?" a reporter's voice. Izuku perked up at this and you internally celebrated you could see more of his face now that he's grabbed his phone with both hands and brought them closer to watch the video you were reproducing in your laptop.

He recalled that voice and that question. "The kindest and brightest people I've ever met, really." You answered.

This interview had been made by fans all across the country once the news about Deku's fiancé were leaked out. You turned to admire Izuku who had been surrounded with more paparazzi. The camera caught it all.

He remembered hearing that voice only faintly behind him.

You've both had been returning from a date and (un)fortunately been caught by a fan of his. People crashing into each other to get a hold of you two. They managed to separate you from him to interrogate you individually as on their plans.

But once he started politely answering some of their questions, he couldn't hear anything else than his voice and cameras' clicking.

You never told him they had interviewed you too, how could he not seen or thought about that?

Izuku observed keenly through the whole thing. You only spoke praises and your eyes, oh your eyes, they kept solely on his form.

Sure, you apologized a couple of times for going out of topic or speaking too much—'just as I'd do,' he thought—but kept on doing it seemingly in an unconscious manner.

"Why'd you choose Deku?" their last question. "Izuku, he has taught me about many good things in life I can no longer count them with both hands, he's been the sweetest and most honest being I've known-also, a greatly empathetic and understanding person, and for that I admire him even more, but also know about some of his struggles and as my love grows stronger each day my heart begs to help him, I want to help him too."

Your eyes got glassy as you spoke, the people got silent, internally crying for such words from you and both of you being so lucky for being with each other. As some started cheering you both and cooing, you'd made it closer to him until you could catch him by surprise in the middle of his last question with a peck on his cheek.

Then the screen turned black.

Now you both were sniffling...

"I love you Izuku, I really hope I can show you and help you just as much as you've done for me." You expressed firmly, closing your laptop and smiling through some tears.

"Thank you, thank you so much-I-I really appreciate I do-don't know what to say-" "-don't worry, there's no need Izuku, I, I just hope my message has gotten through..."

"It did," now that he had the screen closer, it enlighted a bit more his face and you could see him smiling too. "I love you too."

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[idleoblivion]

"The Dismal Story of Our Creation" Malleus Draconia x GN Reader

Spoilers for Book 7!

Synopsis: Malleus has put the island to sleep, but the dream he puts you in is an especially unique one.

Word Count: ~1200 A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me happy birthday messages! I hope to finish a few more drafts soon to make up for my absence. I loved writing him as a yandere, it just fits him so well to me.

Warnings: Yandere Malleus, captivity? (trapped in a dream), forced kissing

Something wasn’t right.

He’d done it. He overblotted. Putting everyone to sleep, leaving them to their dreams. For their own good, to make them happy. That’s what he had said. 

So why was this your dream? What had happened to you?

You remember catching a glimpse of the unconscious forms of your friends, sleeping under the power of his magic. You remember the fear that washed over you as you expected the same fate. And you remember the satisfied grin he wore as he faced you, and then everything went black.

Darkness surrounds you now. You are stranded in a void, an empty black space. No floor beneath your feet, no walls indicating you might be in some strange room. You hesitantly take a few steps forward, and then in another direction. Still nothing. You are walking through some kind of purgatory, left alone with nothing but an endless darkness and eerie silence.

Until you hear footsteps behind you.

You whip around to see him, uncomfortably close to you. Looming over you, with that same smile as before.

“What…what did you do? Where am I?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

Malleus’ smile still doesn’t falter as he answers you. “Our home, Child of Man.”

As he speaks, the space around you starts changing. You blink repeatedly as a room starts creating itself from the darkness, walls and furniture forming from the shadows before manifesting as real objects. Everything appears in the same gothic theme you’re familiar with from Diasomnia.

“What do you mean, ‘our home’?”

He tilts his head at you a bit, mirth still palpable in his expression. “I think it’s quite self-explanatory. This is where we will spend the rest of our lives together.” Your head is spinning as you process his words. “Malleus, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, you’re scaring me.”

He frowns immediately at that. He sighs quietly before speaking again. “My apologies, Child of Man. I suppose I’ve yet to explain myself properly to you. Please, fear not. I never would wish you any harm, you should know.”

“Child of Man,” He starts after a deep inhale, “I know this may feel sudden, but I must confess something to you.” He reaches for your hand, and you cautiously allow him to take it. “I…I love you. I care for you so dearly, my Child of Man. You’ve brought life to my life, brought me a kind of joy that I’ve always considered unobtainable for me. I’ve never known someone as kind, brave and sincere as you. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. So much that I don’t know what to do with the feelings you stir in me sometimes.” He grinned softly to himself. “You treat me like no one else does. You seek out my presence yourself, you look at me with fondness in place of fear. You’ve taken over my mind and heart, and I couldn’t do without you anymore.”

“So,” he continues, “I’ve created a place for us, and only us, my love. I’ve put much thought into it, and come to the conclusion that it would be difficult for us to be together in reality. It would be blasphemy for me to attempt to introduce a human as my partner in Briar Valley. As heir to the Draconia lineage and future king, such a thing would never be allowed.” His brow furrowed at the thought. “And on your end, the headmaster is searching for a way to send you back, to separate you from me. There are many obstacles to our love. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” His hand moves to cradle your cheek gently, staring deep into your eyes. It takes great effort for you to not tremble under the weight of his gaze. “There is nothing but us here. No Crowley, no other world to return to, no royal duties or expectations, nothing at all to disturb us. We will hide happily in here forever, where nobody can interfere with us.” You’re shaking now, fear coursing through your veins as you realize the gravity of your situation. You are trapped alone with him, in a space of his creation and control, completely at his mercy. And he’s seemingly decided you won’t be going anywhere.

“M-Malleus, please. I don’t…I don’t want this.” You meekly speak, your voice hardly above a whisper. You’re terrified of rejecting him, but equally afraid of what would happen if you accepted his advance. “I don’t want to be asleep forever. And what about everyone else, my friends-” “Do not speak of them.” His harsh tone cuts you off and makes you flinch. There’s a new darkness to his eyes that makes your legs want to buckle. You avert your eyes from his to avoid it.

“Look at me.” He commands. You don’t comply, too nervous to meet the anger in his expression. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to tilt your head up. “I said, look at me. Do not speak of them again. This place is for us, not them. Your life is meant to be spent with me, not them. Your place in this world is with me, not them. You will not mention them again. I will not allow any others but myself to occupy your thoughts. Do you understand me?”

Tears start welling up in your eyes as you nod slightly, dread heavy in your stomach as the weight of your circumstances only seems to keep increasing.

He stares down at your teary face, eyes wet and lips trembling. He still holds your face in his large hand. His eyes soften the longer he looks at you, and after what seems like an eternity he starts leaning in towards you. You don’t dare to close your eyes, scared of what he’d do if you avoided him again. He gets closer, and you hold back a fearful whimper as his lips softly press against yours. Your stomach turns as he holds the kiss, leaving you anxious and uncomfortable. He pulls back and meets your gaze once more. 

“You’re…ethereal. Perfect, so perfect my love. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I’ve always wanted to claim you as my own.” He kisses you again, with more need and passion than the first. The tail of his overblot form comes to wrap around your waist and pull you into him, pressing your bodies together. His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you with more and more fervor. His tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small groan despite yourself. He smiles against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. His demeanor had lost some of it’s intimidating aura as he looked at you completely lovestruck, strong hands caressing your back as his tail still held you in place.

“I’ll be all that you need, my love. I will be your entire reason for being, your entire purpose, as you are mine.” You shudder a bit in his hold, but if he notices, he pretends he doesn’t.

“This is my creation for us, dear. Our paradise. Doesn’t it make you happy?”

[ryttu3k]

So I got up to the Mystra scene in my Gale Origin run and I have A Lot of thoughts, most of them boiled down to "FIGHT ME, MYSTRA", but also a theory on Mystra orchestrating the whole thing with the Orb. Few too many caps to post all of them, so I've typed them up. My comments in parentheses.

Narrator: "Just as Elminster promised, you stand before no ordinary idol. Beneath the silent stone surges a relentless current of purest Weave. A summoning channel, the kind commanded by Mystra herself. How many times have you dreamed of this moment? An audience with the goddess who loved you. Who abandoned you. All you have to do is reach for it…"

(Shift of expression here - from fear to determination.)

Halsin: "Speak your mind, Gale. Let go of that weight you have been carrying for Mystra."

(I loved Halsin speaking up here! Unsure if it's a romance-only line but it felt very sweet and appropriate.)

Reach out. Go to Mystra.

(Expression of dread. He looks like he's being sent to the gallows.)

Mystra: "Gale of Waterdeep. You look well."

Gale: "You break up with me, cut me off from the Weave, leave me to die, and that's all you have to say? You look well?"

(First response to seeing Mystra after a full year of pain and suffering. He looks anguished seeing her again, and how... dismissive her response is.)

Mystra: "I did not come here to suffer a mortal's admonitions. Certainly not yours. I've been watching your journey here. Your triumphs. Your temptations. Your doubts. You discovered what lies at the Heart of the Absolute - the Crown of Karsus - and you disobeyed my instruction. Why?"

(1. The 'certainly not yours' feels especially callous. 2. The way she phrases this implies that she knew what it was already. She wasn't sending Gale to kill himself to destroy a new god, she was sending Gale to kill himself to destroy an elder brain wearing a Crown that has previously threatened her personally.)

Gale: "Because my life isn't yours to throw away. You had no right to ask that of me."

Mystra: "You were my lover, my Chosen, yet still you know so little of me. I hoped hindsight would help you see what you could not perceive before. Do you understand why I severed our connection?"

(The hell is hindsight supposed to do? This one one of the biggest things that gets to me with the whole Orb thing - how was he supposed to know?)

Gale: "I let you down. I was a fool, and fools don't deserve the love of a goddess."

(Expression - he looks so hurt here. He absolutely blames himself.)

Mystra: "The past cannot be undone with self-pity, nor can a future be forged. Only with the truth will you see the way ahead. The fragment of magic you tried to return to me was not of my creation. It was the Karsite Weave. It is a corrupted, half-born magic wrought in the brief moment Karsus ascended to godhood. It hungers for power just as he did, and it can never be sated. You unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence, and yet you thought only of preserving yourself."

(So she blames him for unleashing the Orb. Again, how was he supposed to know? Probably the only ones who know about Karsite Weave were Karsus himself, Mystra, and probably Ao. How was a thirty-four-year-old mortal human dude supposed to know of a completely new and unknown form of magic that existed for the approximately six and a half seconds Karsus was a god for? Elminster points out at one point that Mystra is omniscient. Gale is not. How was he supposed to know? Second, 'you thought only of preserving yourself'. She left him to die! And the minor issue of if he did die, he'd take out Waterdeep in the process!)

Gale: "I never intended to do harm. Only to prove myself worthy of you."

Mystra: "You were already worthy. What you lacked was patience, and it cost you dearly. When the Karsite Weave entered your body, your gifts were the first things it consumed. The only reason the 'orb' sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us. With each day that passes, the elder brain threatens to become a new kind of god, its worshippers a scourge of soulless illithids. If you will not use the orb to end this abomination, then you must find a way to separate Crown and host. When you've done this, you must surrender the Crown to me. Perform this service, and I will see you cured. You will be forgiven."

(1. 'Your gifts were the first things it consumed'. Sorcerer Gale, natch. 2. So that more or less implies that she could have stablised the Orb at any time. Even if she couldn't - for whatever the reason - warn him about it ahead of time, she could have still prevented the year he spent in pain, the year he spent weakened, desperate, isolated, and depressed, the year he spent thinking that one wrong move would not only kill him but destroy all of Waterdeep with him! She didn't just risk him out of spite, she risked a two-million strong population!)

Gale: "You're the mother of all magic, the Weave incarnate. Can't you just destroy the Crown yourself?"

(His expression is downcast for most of the conversation. Here, he finally looks up. Beseeching. Not just, "Why couldn't you do this?", but also, "Why couldn't you prevent this?")

Mystra: "It is not my place to destroy another god's creation, however temporarily he joined the pantheon. It must be you, Gale. You are the one who carries Karsus' power within you. You are the only one who can."

(But of course, it's entirely her place for her Chosen to do it for her. Will get back to this point in a moment.)

Gale: "Very well. The next time we meet, I'll be bringing you the Crown."

Mystra: "Thank you. May the Weave's light guide your purpose, and its wisdom guide your hand. The future of magic rests on your shoulders, Gale of Waterdeep. I promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear."

(Yeah, the Weave's guided him great so far. No pressure!)

So, there's a couple of questions here.

First, what did Gale believe he was doing?

He believed he was restoring a fragment of Mystra's lost Weave to her. He knows that Karsus' Folly was the crux of it, but all he knows - all he possibly can know, at this point - is that magic was restored except for one fragment. He wanted to be seen to be worthy of Mystra, and so believed that restoring that fragment to her would be both a symbol of love and devotion, and also something that'd be of tangible help to her.

Indeed, he thought he was carrying out her mission. "The goal of Mystra's faithful is simple: that magic be preserved and promulgated throughout the Realms." Was it perhaps a sliiight sign of hubris that he wanted to do it to prove himself worthy of her love and admiration? A little, yeah, but what else did she expect? He had been groomed since childhood to be the greatest wizard he possibly could. He was thirty-four, he was Mystra's Chosen and lover, he knows mortals can be elevated to higher powers. This very incarnation of Mystra only became so in 1358, after being one of Mystra's followers!

Ambitious, yes. But he never wanted to supplant her. He wanted to be seen as worthy and perhaps achieve apotheosis, which is exactly what she did herself.

Second, though, and more importantly, is what did Mystra see Gale doing?

She is, per Elminster, omniscient. She can sense any magic being used. She knows when Gale just reads the Annals of Karsus. She had to have known that what her Chosen was about to unleash was Karsite Weave, and...

She opted to do nothing, let Gale nearly be killed by the orb, let him suffer for a year, then tell him to fix it by killing himself, only when the Crown itself came back into play.

Think of it from Mystra's perspective. The year is 1491 DR. She's spent a good chunk of her actual godhood dead and has only relatively recently been restored, although she has, at this point, indeed been fully restored to all her powers. One of her Chosen is a young human wizard named Gale, who she's also taken as her lover. Gale is ambitious - of course he is, he's an insanely talented Chosen wizard - and actively wants to please her.

The Crown of Karsus is sealed away in Mephistopheles' vaults. The Orb of Karsus is sealed away in a book. (Who knows where the Sceptre is.) She knows it's a threat, but one that's currently under control.

She sees her Chosen approach the book the Orb is sealed in. She must realise that her Chosen has no idea what's in it, because she's well aware he's never read the Annals of Karsus, and he certainly wasn't there at the time. What's the more logical response here?

Tell your Chosen that what's sealed in the book is an extremely dangerous form of anti-magic that is an immediate threat to you, to him, and to everyone around him, and that if he isn't willing to just leave it alone, he should instead destroy it for you, or

Let your Chosen unleash it without warning him, nearly killing him and posing a very real threat to two million people until it's stabilised, which you can do at any time but don't?

She must have been thrilled when the Crown was stolen, right around the same time. Suddenly, she has a way to rid herself of the blight of Karsus - use one artefact to destroy the other! Never mind that one of those artefacts is currently lodged in the chest of her Chosen and doing so would kill him and a great many others, she's got rid of a greater threat.

The Crown was stolen and Gale was hit by the Orb around the same time, a year before the game. Which came first? What if the Crown was stolen first, what if Mystra grew worried about it because look at what happened last time, and, knowing that one of the only things strong enough to destroy the Crown would be another of Karsus' artefacts, she deliberately guided Gale to it? What if she intentionally abandoned him in order to prime him to want to do anything he could to gain her forgiveness, which she could conveniently grant if only he used the Orb to destroy the Crown?

Either way, it was cruel. If it was just sheer neglect that saw her fail to warn him, it was also stupid. She's omniscient. She could have warned Gale any time. She could have stablised the Orb at any time. Why leave him to suffer? Was it petty sadism, or did she always intend to use him as a tool to destroy the Crown, and never mind the consequences?

She's already willing to sacrifice half the Sword Coast to an illithid invasion if it means getting rid of the Crown. What's one more life?

Hashtag fight me Mystra, hashtag Gale deserves better.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

I am nearly 40 years old and I've considered myself a leftist politically since I was old enough to form my own opinions. Have I always been a shining moral example? Definitely not - there have absolutely been times when I've had unexamined prejudices and been called out on them. It's deeply uncomfortable having to examine your own prejudices and to be told that you're wrong, and I get the instinct to push back.

But never in my entire life have I seen as much doubling down and ignoring of minority voices and as much mask off bigotry as I have seen this last month in reaction to Jews telling pro Palestine activists that a lot of what they're doing is blatant antisemitism and actively harmful to their community.

Absolutely, advocate and uplift Palestinian voices and draw attention to what is happening, because what is happening is utterly appalling.

But when you happily parrot genocidal slogans like 'From the River to the Sea' while totally ignoring anyone's attempts to tell you why that is so hideously problematic, when you unironically call for the total eradication of the only Jewish nation state on earth in a way that you never ever do for other nations whose governments have committed similar or worse crimes, when you happily chant shit like "Death to Zionist pigs" without the first clue what that word actually means (hint: it's not shorthand for 'evil barely humans who want all Palestinians dead' and it's incredibly disgusting to use it that way. Zionists believe in the Jewish right to return to and live on their ancestral homeland. That's it. That's all) then don't think for one solitary minute you possess any kind of moral high ground.

And when leftists who usually loudly proclaim the right of indigenous peoples to return to their land have the audacity to turn around and say to Jews "not you though - actually you're terrible and evil for even wanting such a thing. Never mind that the rest of the world has engaged in your wholesale dehumanisation and slaughter for thousands of years, your desire for your homeland is the bad thing actually" what is that hypocrisy but blatant antisemitism? Please, enlighten me.

When a Jewish person tells you are peddling in antisemitism, just shut the fuck up and listen.

A caveat to this is that I am not Jewish, I don't know any Jewish people IRL, none of this impacts me personally. But I am a human being, and will not and cannot stay silent about the hypocrisy and outright dehumanisation of other human beings by people who cannot for the life of them either open a history book or take the time to actually listen to the people this impacts and instead just perform their self righteous little dance.

[linos-luna]

hihi !! can i request a yandere!felix x reader thats kinda similar to the soobin one where he threw a tantrum and cried when she tried to leave? but with felix his tantrums are more violent for example like throwing stuff and hitting himself? this sounds so weird but i love felix

take your time i love your work !! 🩵

Thank you! 💕

———————————————————————

Tantrum 🔪

Yandere!Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, Yandere, self harm

—————————— 🎀 ——————————

Your boyfriend was too much to handle. You do love him but sometimes need a break. He throws fits at random and hates when you don’t give him attention. You decided to spend the weekend at your cousin’s house but you knew he wouldn’t be happy about it…

“Noona, where are you going…?”

“Baby.” You sighed. “I told you. I’m going to my cousin’s house.”

“When are you coming back? Why do you have your backpack?”

“Well I’m spending the night…” you replied while giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“No!”

Just as you turned around you heard your boyfriend’s yell and something slam to the floor.

You flip right back around only to see one of the dining chairs on the floor and Felix standing there with his arms crossed.

“Felix! What the hell?!”

“You can’t go!”

“Felix don’t do this.” You sighed.

“Why are you leaving me?!” He said as tears started to form.

“I’m only going for the weekend.”

“Why?!” He blurted out.

You were frustrated. He never lets you leave the house without throwing a fit. He hates when you go anywhere without him. Why cant you just go away for 2 days?!

“Baby…” you sighed. “I need some space.”

“Space?!”

“Yes!” You snapped at him. “Felix I need some space! A little break! Some time to myself!”

His fists balled up and tears started to forming.

“Don’t do this…” you groaned as you started walking to the door. “I’m not falling for it this time…”

“Noona don’t leave!” He called out. “Noona!”

You tried ignoring him while putting on your sneakers, only for him to slam his fist on the table.

Next thing you know, you hear glass shatter.

He must’ve knocked it off the table. He then took the other one and broke it by slamming it into the table. Maybe you should’ve put those wine glasses in the sink when you were done last night. Now he’s making a mess!

“Felix stop it.” You sighed while unlocking the door.

“No!”

As he yells, a glass flies by your head and shatters against the door, making you instantly turn around.

“Felix!”

“Don’t take a step out that door.”

“Your being ridiculous.” You said while crossing your arms. “You can’t control what I can and can’t do!”

Felix slapped his hand on the table, grabbing some glass that was broke from earlier, obviously cutting his hand.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“You obviously don’t care!” He cried while flinging the shards in your direction. “You don’t even love me!”

“Of course I love you! Stop—”

“Noona hates me!” He interrupted while falling backwards on his bottom. “Noona’s leaving because she hates me!”

“I don’t hate you—!”

As your boyfriend cried, he took more glass shards and threw them towards you. You could see the cuts on his hand and some blood as well.

“Baby you’re hurting yourself!” You put your backpack down and tried going to him before he started throwing more shards at you.

You backed up for a moment, not sure what to do with him. He was definitely throwing a tantrum now.

“Felix—”

“No! No! No!” He screamed while shaking his head, now smacking himself and pulling his own hair.

“Felix stop!”

“She hates me! She hates me!” He repeated while punching his head then ripping out a tuft of hair. His crying was full of hurt and pain, not only from you leaving but also from the abuse he’s giving himself.

“Baby stop!” You pleaded while kneeling in front of him, trying to take hold of his wrists. “Stop baby! Your hurting yourself!”

Felix resisted grip and tried hitting himself again. He was strong and it was hard to control him.

Tears were forming when hearing him cry again and and you quickly hugged him tight, hoping he’d stop hurting himself.

“Stop it! Lixie don’t hurt yourself! Please stop!”

He struggled a bit before finally calming down, submitting to your tight hold, sobbing quietly into your chest.

“I love you… Noona loves you…” you whispered while rocking lightly.

“You tried leaving…” he said, voice muffled by your chest. “Noona wants to leave me…”

“No baby… I don’t…” you replied with tears rolling down your cheeks.

You let him go for a moment and he looked at you, face stained with tears and eyes puffy.

“I don’t like it when you hurt yourself…” you said while rubbing his head, feeling where he pulled out his hair. “Please don’t do that…”

He shook his head.

“Baby—”

He gasped in pain when you grabbed his hands. You totally forgot that they were cut up.

“Oh my god! Sorry baby! Sorry!” You said frantically while letting go.

He started crying again when you helped him up.

“Please don’t cry…” you said while rubbing his cheeks. “Don’t cry baby…”

“You’re not gonna leave right?”

“No… I’m not going anywhere…” you sighed. “You’re hurt…”

He nodded as you sat him on the couch and gently kissed his lips.

“I’ll take care of it, okay?” You said while looking for the bandages.

Felix smiled to himself when you left. It worked.