#it kind of felt like i was deadnaming him in a way so i grew to not like the username anymore

[butch-muppet]

ive been considering changing my url for at least a year but never thought of anything until now, when i literally sat bolt upright in bed with the perfect name idea having been dropped into my brain

anyway worfsrozhenko -> butch-muppet

[chaoswithkaycee]

Almost 11 years ago, I graduated high school. I have a million pictures from that day that I could share, but I'm compelled to talk about this one. The man I'm hugging is 1st Sgt Reginald White, a veteran of the United States Army. He was my AJROTC teacher my freshman year of high school, and would have likely been my sophomore AJROTC teacher as well if I'd stayed in the program. This man was pivotal in my learning to both accept and love myself, in ways I didn't understand as a 15 year old kid. Hell, I barely understood how he'd helped me even as I stood there hugging him at 18 years old. I just knew how much I would miss him.

1st Sgt White is no longer there, but before he left, he had moved to an administrative position. I can think of no better place for him than to have been watching over the entire school every day and guiding our youth. Sometimes I wished I could go visit him, just to show him how far I'd come and tell him how right he was about me, but every time I had that thought, I remembered something else he said.

"Don't come back for me."

He said it often. It's one of the phrases on repeat in my head when he crosses my mind.

"Don't come back for me."

He always told us he wanted us to succeed. He wanted us to grow. He didn't care if we joined the military (he even discouraged some of us from it). He didn't care if we got married or raised kids or became CEOs. He said he always wanted us to be successful, kind, and above all - happy. And happiness is not found in reminiscing.

"Don't come back for me. Send me your wedding invitations. Invite me to your kids birthday party. Send me a letter when you're in a movie. But don't come back for me. Don't ever look behind you."

His class was the first one I felt safe enough to be myself in. I was outed in that class by someone who wanted to hurt me, and as my classmates giggled and tittered about it, as I sank in my seat in embarrassment at having been outed and knowing I'd be bullied, he stood up. He grabbed the yard stick against his chalkboard, walked over to the student who outed me, and slammed the yard stick on the students desk so hard that it snapped in half - one piece remained on the desk, while the other piece flew across the room and hit the opposite wall. The classroom was silent. 1st Sgt White stood in front of the student and looked at all of us. "Why does it matter if (deadname) is bisexual? What has changed in the five minutes since before you knew that? Has she harassed any of you? Has she hurt any of you? Has she become less trustworthy, less kind, less friendly, less intelligent? What has changed?" And no one said anything. I tried not to cry. He wasn't done. I've never forgotten this day. "I would serve next to a gay or bisexual person any day of the week. I would put my life in their hands a hundred times over. Do you understand how goddamn brave you have to be, to come out in a world where people like you are murdered, or disowned by their families, or ridiculed by their peers? How much courage it takes to live your truth when the entire world is against you? No, I'd trust a gay person with my life any day, any time."

It was the first time I felt real acceptance of my identity outside of my family. Not tolerance, but true acceptance. Who I was, was good enough. I never forgot it. I reveled in it. I grew in that feeling, with his voice always echoing about how brave I was. I'd visit him often in high school after I left his class - many of my friends were still part of the program, so I'd still see him. He was the only teacher who didn't say anything about me holding my girlfriends hand in his room. When there was a school shooting somewhere else, he'd remind us that anyone who came through that door would have to come through him first, and they'd be lucky if they made it that far. When I tried and failed, he reminded me that my best was all I could give, and that was good enough. When things were tough for me mentally, he always said "Your problems are only unique to you." It took until my senior year for me to understand that phrase. He meant that others have experienced what I've experienced, and I can find community and comfort with those people. He was right.

As I look at this picture, I feel a lump in my throat as I remember the last thing I heard him tell me. As the students name behind me was being called and we were being hustled back to our seats, as parents clapped and cameras snapped photos, he stood in front of me and said "I'm so proud of you. I knew you'd be okay."

And I hugged him. And I cried. And I knew I'd miss him, and I do. But I have so much of myself to thank him for.

So thank you, 1st Sgt White. I did my best, and I'll keep doing my best

[wolvesandwerewolvesbaby]

Umbrella Academy—Viktor’s identity

Tw: discussion of trans identity & deadnames

So. I’ve seen a couple people rewrite their fanfics after Elliot and Viktor’s coming out as trans, and changing season 1 Vanya to Viktor, adjusting the pronouns to be respectful. It’s thoughtful, but I’m not sure it’s necessary. Sort of a ‘he’s a little confused but he’s got the right spirit’ meme, maybe? And here’s what I mean:

Viktor is trans, which means there was a point in his life that he used she/her pronouns and a different name. I think changing the character he used to be to reflect who his character currently is, is sort of…unnecessary? Because it implies that his past happened in a different way, and to me sort of implies that he has gone by the name Viktor and the pronouns he/him even in previous seasons…almost implying that he’s always been Viktor. Which isn’t true. Even if Viktor (and Elliot) was always trans, if he was always sort of aware of something uncomfortable in his identity, that doesn’t mean he was always Viktor—he had to figure out who he was, and come to terms with his identity and relax into it. It’s a sort of character development that follows behind the actor’s personal identity and coming out.

Years ago, (and I wish I could find it, but I will look around for it) I read an article by a trans man, and essentially it was: I am proud to be trans. In pride, there’s always a lot of gay specific pride (as there should be) but he said trans pride was still sort of misunderstood by cis people, even if they were both cis and queer. Sort of a, who would want to go thru transition/assuming that a trans man would be happier if he had been born as a man?. But the thing is, he was not just proud to be a man, he was proud to be a trans man—and while he’s dealt with dysphoria, he never felt that he was necessarily born in the wrong body. He was a little girl and he did little girl things and he made friends with other little girls; he identified as a girl. And as he grew, and he came into his own identity, that changed and he started going by he/him pronouns—but he said he wasn’t ashamed of his past as a girl, and he was proud to be a trans man specifically. He loved the girl he used to be. He’s proud she started questioning herself and transitioned to become a boy. That doesn’t mean he wishes he were born as a boy. He liked being himself, as he was; someone who used to be a girl, but wasn’t anymore. All of his experiences pulled together to make him who he was, and if he had been born as a boy, he would have had different experiences, and maybe even a different identity.

I guess what I’m saying is, it sort of feels like erasing that past of Viktor as a girl sort of dismisses that he is a trans man even while it reiterates that he is a man. it’s okay to refer to Viktor’s past self as someone who used to go by she/her in the past, even while respecting who he is and always was.

And to over explain myself, let’s say for instance, if it was Luther who had Viktor’s line during the bachelor party, he could have said, ‘Remember when I used to marry Viktor’s action figures when we were kids?’ And that would have been correct and respectful, because otherwise he would be deadnaming his brother. But if they had decided for some reason to show a flashback of that scene, and shown a little Luther getting caught by another little boy labeled Viktor—that would be confusing and disingenuous and maybe even a little inadvertently disrespectful. Because it would be implying, just like rewriting season one or two fanfiction, that Viktor has always been Viktor, or that he is a cis man, when he isn’t and that isn’t a bad thing. But it’s also not something to hide or change. It’s not only okay to be trans, but I think it’s worth celebrating.

I hope all this makes sense.

That having been said, I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong to be rewriting your fanfiction—it’s fanfiction. You can do literally whatever you want to with it. I think it’s actually sort of kind. And that not every trans person is the same, and maybe some would even prefer it, so do whatever you think fits. I just think the points above are something to consider, at least.

To note: Currently, I don’t think that I’m trans, but I’m sure that I’m queer, even if I don’t quite know who I am yet. so if anyone who is trans would like to reply with any input, go ahead.

[the-gay-prometheus]

Frankenstein AU Segment: “Always You”

I promised some gay shit today so have some gay shit.

Warning: it is extremely gay, I think.

This lil segment is Henry and Victor being silly and dumb and not realizing until just now that they are desperately in love with each other, and I think that is very gay of them.

Anyways actual little mini warning for this one: Victor refers to his assigned gender at birth and also mentions his deadname at one point in this segment. I know for some trans folks, reading things where a trans person makes a reference to their AGAB and/or their deadname it can be triggering, hence why I’m making this warning just to be on the safe side. The entirety of this segment is genuinely wholesome though, so no other warnings needed to my knowledge.

On a completely different and random note, “In A Week�� by Hozier is officially Victor and Henry’s love song, and no I will not be accepting constructive criticism on that.

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are greatly appreciated!

~~~

The peaceful song of crickets chirping was interrupted only by the occasional trilling call of a boreal owl which seemed to echo across the cliffs and peaks. Above the gnarled branches and wispy needles of the pines the moonless sky was illuminated by uninterrupted glimmering starlight. Victor and Henry lay atop a massive boulder they had climbed in the midst of the woods, savoring the moment alone together as they stared up through the canopy above into the shimmering heavens, each with their hands folded over their chests. Though Henry was entirely still, Victor tapped his fingers against the back of his other hand as he picked through the millions of thoughts racing through his head. “You shouldn’t stay,” he mentioned suddenly. Henry glanced over at him. After a long pause, Victor continued. “I mean you shouldn’t stay here. You’ve… you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

“So do you,” Henry answered, turning onto his side and resting his elbow on the stone and his head on his palm. Victor turned to look at him.

“No, not really. I made my choice, Henry. I made a mistake, and this is my burden to bear - not yours. You shouldn’t be throwing your life away for my sake.”

“Victor - you know I’ve always got your back,” Henry replied, giving him a comforting smile. “I really don’t mind it.”

“I know that but… it’s not fair to you.” Victor rested his head back and stared up to the  sky, and Henry laid back to do the same. “You should be finishing your studies at Ingolstadt, or traveling the world, or finding some beautiful woman to settle down with.” Henry tensed as he spoke, but didn’t answer. “I’m thankful that you’re here with me, and it really has been wonderful and I can never repay you for how much you’ve helped but… it kills me to think I might be causing you to miss out on all the things you wanted in life.” There was a long moment of silence between them, and Victor began to grow restless, tapping his fingers against the back of his hand again. “Do you… not agree?” Henry tensed more, then let out a sharp exhale.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Victor blinked, then turned on to his side and sat up slightly.

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “It’s… not like I really have anyone to divulge it to other than… well… you know who. And he certainly doesn’t have anyone to divulge it to.” Henry gave him a half smile, then turned his hazel eyes back to the sky.

“Victor I… I have-” He hesitated. “I’m… I mean I- I’m-” He pinched at the bridge of his nose, then dropped his arms to his sides. “I have no interest in women.” Victor glanced over at him, then lay back down and returned his own gaze to the stars.

“Oh.” Henry cringed, expecting some kind of other reply, but relaxed slightly as Victor spoke again. “Well… that’s fine. You still shouldn’t stay. I know you always wanted to finish your studies and travel the world at least. I don’t want to hold you back.” Henry swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.

“That’s not what I mean Victor.”

“Then what did you mean?” he asked, glancing back over at him.

“I… I have no interest in women because I-” Henry hesitated again. “My only interest lies in… other men. It… it always has.” Victor looked upward once again.

“Ah.” His eyes widened. “Oh!” Henry cringed at this response. He wasn’t sure why he was so afraid but… part of him was terrified. Victor suddenly sat up, a look of revelation on his face. “That’s a possibility?” Henry’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at him.

“You say that like you didn’t know.”

“Well- how was I supposed to know? It’s not like I’ve ever... seen it before.” Henry gave him an odd look.

“...What about Percy and Alex?”

“Who?”

“Back in Ingolstadt? Your classmates? You can’t tell me you didn’t know. It was obvious! Not… that they were necessarily public about it, and for good reason, but the way they looked at each other and talked to each other, there was no way they were anything less than lovers.” Victor frowned and glanced over at him.

“You assume I paid any attention to my classmates.” Henry blinked.

“...Oh. Yes that… that’s certainly a good point.” He shook his head. “Regardless! Why… why wouldn’t it be possible? If a man can love a woman, why can’t he love another man?” Victor thought for a moment.

“Well this… this changes everything,” he muttered, eyes still wide. Henry glanced away, suddenly worried again.

“...How so?”

“Well - it means I’m… I’m not broken!” Victor exclaimed, suddenly grinning. Henry snapped his gaze over to him.

“What?” Victor turned, sitting fully upright with his legs crossed and his fingers tapping excitedly on his thighs.

“Henry. After all I’ve done, after everything I’ve made of myself, after all the changes, there was one thing that always continued to irk me. I have changed my name, altered my body, filled myself with the correct chemicals, and yet despite all of that, one thing never changed. Even though I had finally become the person I knew I needed to be, I still was attracted to men!” Henry’s own eyes grew wide. “I had simply chalked it up to being some sort of strange flaw, that maybe I hadn’t perfected myself enough, that I hadn’t entirely rid myself of my… my…” He hesitated, as though he didn’t want to say it. “My womanhood - but no! Perhaps it has nothing to do with my sex!” Henry couldn’t help but chuckle at that statement.

“You really thought your attraction was tied to your sex?” Victor shrugged, then nodded, prompting another quiet laugh from Henry. “Victor, have I ever mentioned you are by far the most intelligent imbecile I know?” Victor smirked.

“Not in those words exactly, but something akin to that, yes.” 

“Victor Frankenstein, ladies and gentleman, brilliant scientist capable of creating life from death, entirely incapable of understanding human attraction,” Henry announced sarcastically, throwing his arms wide as he spoke with a big grin. Victor snickered and batted his hand away.

“Oh hush, Henry, the poet who couldn’t figure out the difference between a daisy and a dandelion,” he mused in return. Henry sat up.

“Hey! I know the difference! I just… got the names confused!” he exclaimed. Victor laughed, and flopped back onto his back, Henry laying back down beside him.

“Sure you did,” Victor retorted with sarcasm, glancing over at him. The two regained their composure as their giggles faded back to quiet smiles, though Victor’s smile quickly faded. He let out a sigh. “Well… regardless, Henry. You really should go. Go study, go explore, go find a kind man to settle down with. Live the life I’ll never get to have.” Henry’s own smile faded as his mind suddenly raced, trying to think of how to respond. “I’ll be ok here on my own. I promise.”

“But… Victor I-” Henry’s heart began to pound in his chest. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, he repeated in his mind as his pulse quickened. Despite the repetition, though, he glanced back over to Victor. His breath caught in his throat. “I’ve already done those things.” Victor looked over at him, confused, his own heart seeming to skip a beat.

“...What do you mean?”

“Well… I’ve travelled - maybe not around the world, but I traveled to Ingolstadt. I may not have finished my studies but I certainly came close enough. And…” He turned his face away. “I’ve… I’ve already found a kind man to settle down with.” Victor felt his heart shatter in his chest upon hearing those words, and he turned away.

“...I see,” he muttered dejectedly. “Then you should go to him. Go to him and live your life with joy.” Henry looked back over at him, feeling terror clawing at his chest as he mulled over whether he should or shouldn’t reveal himself.

“You… you don’t understand Victor.” Victor turned back toward him, his own eyes already starting to fill with tears of worry. “It’s… it’s you. It’s always been you.” Victor blinked away his tears, his eyes widening as he suddenly felt as though his heart stopped. He was frozen - stunned - and his face turned bright red as he blushed. Henry, seeing this reaction, grew tense and turned away. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to make things strange between us. I shouldn’t have said anyth-” He was cut off as suddenly he felt Victor’s fingers upon his cheek, gently coaxing him to return his gaze to him.

“Henry I… I misspoke,” Victor whispered softly. Henry clenched his eyes shut, fearing the worst. “When I said I was attracted to men, what I should have said was… I am attracted to a man.” He hesitated as Henry slowly opened his eyes. “It was always you, Henry. Always.” For a moment the two stared deep into each other's eyes, their fears falling away as they finally began to realize the intensity of the connection between them, until Victor suddenly pulled back and gave Henry an odd look. “Wait. No- no. You’re lying. You have to be lying.” Henry’s eyes widened with shock.

“I- Victor I just bared my soul to you. Do you genuinely think I would lie about something like that?”

“Well… no. But it makes no sense. If you always knew you were interested solely in men, then how could you have always been interested in me? Good god Henry, when we first met I wasn’t even Victor, I was Emily Frankenstein, the strange girl who refused to wear a dress and practiced needlepoint while sitting out in the mud!” Henry’s shock dissolved into a short huff of laughter at the memory of seeing that younger, drastically different version of his boyhood crush, with long, frizzy dark brown hair (a far cry to his now short and messily cut hair) sitting in the mud by the lake wearing boys’ clothing while intently working on an embroidery that read ‘Alchemy is Relevant’ with the symbol for the philosopher’s stone above it - young Victor’s way of spiting his father.

“You know how you thought you were flawed because somehow despite everything you still felt attraction toward men?” Henry asked. He paused, then smiled. “Attraction to me, I guess.” Victor frowned slightly.

“Yes?”

“Well… that’s how I felt when I first met you. It was so bizarre to me. Up until that point, I had never understood the other boys my age, all pining over young girls while I was admiring which of them was the most handsome. And then I met you, and even though I was so sure of myself and who I was, you turned it all on its head. For the first time I wasn’t just admiring, I was fully, deeply enthralled by someone. I simply chalked it up to the fact that, perhaps this just meant I finally found the right girl, like my father always said I would, and that maybe everything I thought I knew was wrong. And yet… I continued to find myself admiring only other boys my age, and no other girls. I was so deeply conflicted - until that day years later when you returned after having run away and confided in me that you had come to realize you were never meant to be a girl at all,” he explained. Victor’s expression softened.

“So… what you’re saying is… you… you knew all along? Before I was even aware of my own identity?” Henry thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Come to think of it, I suppose maybe I did! I’ve… never really thought of it like that before.” Victor stared at him for a moment, then lay back again, smiling brightly. Henry smiled back at him, and lay beside him again - though moving a bit closer this time.

“Then I suppose we were never broken after all,” Victor remarked. “All this time, we knew each other far better than we ever realized. I’ve never much believed in soul mates, but… considering this evidence, I’m almost considering rethinking my stance on that,” he concluded half jokingly. 

“You jest, but… you have to admit it might have some merit,” Henry pointed out as he stared calmly up at the sky. “How truly remarkable that the stars should align for us to meet, that the strings of fate should tie us together so neatly and that we should lead each other, even if unknowingly, into the light that is living our truths. We may have no evidence for the existence of some higher power, but there is proof that the world works in mysterious and wonderful ways that even science cannot define. Our very existence is such a specific rarity, a mere blip on the scale of time, and somehow here we are, together, here, now.” Victor turned on his side, lifting himself up slightly as he stared in awe and admiration as Henry spoke. “We are miracles, Victor, common miracles yet miracles all the same. There is so much we have to learn and to discover about the world and about ourselves, and how brilliant it is that we should have the chance to do so together, and to lift each other up to be the very best versions of ourselves that we can be. We-” He suddenly was cut off as Victor was suddenly leaning over him, propping himself on one hand that rested on Henry’s other side, his light brown eyes staring down into his hazel ones with a gaze of pure wonder. He shuddered, his heart suddenly fluttering in his chest as he looked up at him, and he gasped softly as Victor placed his unoccupied hand onto his cheek and brushed a long strand of ginger hair away from his eyes.

“Is it too early?” Victor inquired in a quiet whisper. Henry pressed his face into Victor’s hand.

“Too early for what?” Victor hesitated.

“Is it too early to say I... I-” Henry grinned, breathing deeply and slowly shaking his head as he lifted a hand and placed it on Victor’s cheek.

“I love you too,” he murmured. They stayed frozen for a moment, silence returning between them as the creatures of the night continued to sing their songs and the trees creaked softly in the breeze. As they searched each other’s eyes for some unspoken answer to some unheard question, it was Victor who suddenly leaned down, his pulse racing as his lips locked with Henry’s. At first Henry’s eyes widened, but his eyelids fluttered closed as he lifted his hand higher and gently gripped Victor’s short, messy brown hair between his fingers, softly pulling him in closer. Though it only lasted a moment, it felt like a blissful eternity before they slowly broke away, both of them shaking with the joy and excitement of it all. As Victor lay back on his side, he wrapped his arm around Henry tightly, and Henry moved closer, wrapping his own arm around him. They lay contentedly in each other's embrace, silently staring at one another as though there was nothing else in the world they’d rather see than each other’s eyes. That was, until, a sudden cry from just outside the forest jolted them both upright. Victor let out a soft sigh, and slowly started to rise to his feet.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered disappointedly. Henry gave a sympathetic smile as he stood as well.

“No, I’ll come with you.” Victor hesitated a moment before descending the boulder and landing on the ground with a soft thud, Henry following close behind.

“You don’t have to. I’m sure it’ll only be a moment,” he mentioned. Henry took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“And I don’t want to lose a single moment to spend with you,” he murmured, leaning forward and tenderly kissing Victor’s cheek. Victor blushed and smiled sheepishly.

“If you insist-” He was cut off by the sound of a sudden loud sob. “Come on. It sounds like one hell of a nightmare,” he mentioned as he began to lead the way back to their cabin home.

“Sometimes I think you make a surprisingly good father, despite everything between the two of you,” Henry mentioned as they exited the trees. Victor gave a contented sigh as they came upon the dwelling and he reached for the door.

“You really think so?” he asked quietly as they walked in and continued toward where they could hear his creation now quietly crying inside. “Well… at least I won’t have to do it alone now.” He paused just outside the door to the creature’s room, looking back at Henry. “You will stay, won’t you?” Henry chuckled softly, gripping Victor’s hand tighter.

“Oh, Victor,” he murmured, leaning forward and resting his forehead against his. “From the day I first got here, I never wanted to leave.”

[nico-no-talk]

I have decided to make more headcanons of the gang and maybe go more in depth to a particular one that we may all know of

Sunny

As I said before, this boy can fit so much autistic symptoms

His parents are quiet close with their kids but it seems like they messed some things up like parents do: Mari is somewhat a perfectionist and Sunny may have undiagnosed autism

Quickly headcanoning Sunny's name might be Hikaru or any name that means light

ANYWAY, as he grew up, the more he verbally opened up to his friends and still uneasy with his family, except for Mari.

Sunny likes to play with toys like any other kid does but he only likes toys that he can role play with such as his stuffed toys and building blocks that he can make homes for

When he was in this 11th year of being alive, his parents got rid of his building blocks as a way to help him 'grow up' since what kind of 11-year old play with building blocks still? They didn't touch his stuffed toys since they knew he would kick and scream way more than with his blocks

Sunny was devastated when he learned his parents tossed his blocks and cried for weeks that his friends, his stuffed toys, didn't have homes anymore

Mari decided to earn money with Hero's help to get him a new set so he won't be sad anymore, and knew he liked the feeling of smooth wood against his skin

After his 12th birthday party, Mari asked to not toss this set out and just keep it for any kids that Mari and Sunny may have in the future. Even Mari wasn't sure if Sunny would want kids, but it was something that managed to convince their parents

Speaking of Sunny speaking, he is somewhat semi-verbal around his friends but he does talk most of the time with them since he felt like it doesn't hurt when talking to them unlike with the rest of his family.

Speaking of family again, Mari's name might be short for Mariko since the transition to the 'ko' may have been difficult for Sunny to pronounce but her name might actually be Mari since it is a Japanese name as it does mean 'real logic' if written in a certain way

Their parents may have gotten a speech therapist for Sunny to help him pronounce words better and so the other adults will stop saying things how strange he is

Stims includes, minor biting, finger snapping, whistles, finger tapping, hand flaps, and random noises. Why random noises? Because I do too

Post-canon, Sunny's mom decided to actually get him diagnose and help him out more so he can graduate in school quickly since he did drop out of middle school

He did managed to get back in school within his age-grade and goes to separate rooms during testing for his classes

For long weekends, he tries to visit his friends as often as he can, especially Kel since he likes the way Kel's hair feels and enjoys feeling the callousness on his hands

Mari

Mari Mari Mari

She is a perfectionist, even towards herself since he parents often compared Sunny to her, saying how Mari was able to do a lot of things when she was Sunny's age

Seeing how they made her a goal for Sunny, she tried to be the perfect image of what it is to be normal

Do after school activities, have hobbies, play music, have friends, fall in love, have long hair since she's a girl and he's a boy, only like boys and show him to only like girls, so on and so on

After the building block incident, thats when she realizes that Sunny will never be a 'normal' kid and go out of her way to make his life easier. She'll continue to be his role model but for a new and better reason

She bought him some of his stuffed toys since he liked the texture, picked out clothes that he liked but had to make the tough choice of getting him 'normal' looking clothes so he won't get bullied, eat any of the food he hates, continued to play the piano since he likes the sound, is happy that she stopped softball because he hated going out to her games because of how loud it is and it felt cramped to him, and so many other things

When hanging out with the gang, Mari allowed herself to relax and not focus on Sunny

Kel

Middle child syndrome screams

Despite it being just being him and Hero for the longest time, he was still an afterthought for his parents when it comes to Hero and Sally

He didn't mind. He thought thats how parents are with multiple kids. Sunny's parents were kind of the same as his so he thought he was right but Basil's didn't make any sense

Like everyone else, he has never met Basil's parents and thought they just worked all day and play with Basil at night

But Basil said it wasn't, so it confused him more but he stopped questioning it after thinking about it for a while

As Kel gotten older, the more he realizes that he sort of has 'jumpies' like Sunny does but it was different. It helped him feel less tighten-up and felt better

He asked Hero during on of his visits, Hero explained that Kel may have ADHD or ADD.

"Oh" it clicked

Kel wanted to do something 'smart' on his own for once and decided to research on his own about himself and Sunny

He learned lots of things and became more open minded about a lot of things: gender, sexuality, neurodiversity, polyamory relationships, religion, and many other things

Hero

Biggest Asexual with Mari as well

Only became an overachiever because he loved the praise he got from everyone

Honestly, I dont got much for Hero, sorry man

Aubrey

Bisexual energy

Her father made sure she was a perfect little girl: wears dresses and skirts, like pink, wears a bow all the time, keep herself neat, come home right after school and ask first if she wants to keep playing, not playing with boys especially the rough playing boys

After loosing her shoe and meeting everyone, she decided to stay around them and be herself: rough housing, wear blue, wear spare shorts that either Mari, Sunny, or Kel may have, take off her bow as often as possible, be out of the house as possible to be with her friends, and may have a crush on an older girl you see almost everyday

When her dad left, everything came down: mom gave up, money became tight, Mari is gone, no one is around with her, and start doing things she never done before because of obligated morals

She started dating Kim, hung out with the hooligans, wore 'less' clothing, rude, crude, tomboy, carried weapons, and dyed her hair

Post-canon, she stopped some of her bad habits: wore clothes that are modest whenever she felt like it, a little more polite but still a little rude, stopped carrying weapons, and kept the pink hair in memory of Mari. Still dating Kim since she loves her more than anything in the world

Basil

Who the fuck names their kid Basil? His name was probably Jermey and just he liked the word Basil so much that he said a lot instead of his birth name. He got the name Basil since it was the first thing he planted

For years, no one in the gang knew Basil was a nickname, just accepted that his name was Basil and his parents just liked plants, not realizing his parents are not around a lot

Bet you anything, since Basil vents to Sunny a lot, he may have talked to him about sexuality and gender a lot with him, coming out to him as gay and might be non-binary in some way, still wasn't sure

Sunny was the one he told that Basil was a nickname but he wants to be his actual name

"But, your name has always been Basil, hasn't it?" Sunny asked

Basil had vowed to protect Sunny at all costs since that day and also be proud of himself no matter what and to always introduce himself as Basil, no matter how scared he was

Post-canon, after being in the hospital and some for of mental hospital for some time, after being officially released, Basil came out to everyone else

"Wait, so Basil was a name you picked this whole time?! That is so cool!" Kel cheered as he lifts Basil up in the air in joy

No one dared to ask what his deadname was and use whatever pronouns he asks them to use: He/They but still struggles to respond to they/them pronouns since he never told anyone else other than Sunny

Annnnnnnd thats all I got. Feel free to ask more from me

[forgetfulmachineart]

Jonmartin childhood friends au where they meet while Martin just figured out he's trans and he's trying to figure out a good name for himself ("Sam? No. Tom, Tommy, Tim sounds kind of nice. Maybe Jon" "That's my name!"). Jon calls Martin whatever name he's feeling that day ("Good morning, Chris" "Michael" "Good morning, Michael. Anyways have you heard about the history behind grape ice cream-")

They go to different schools, having met at a nearby beach back when Martin's mother was in good enough health to take him, and got off to a rough start. Martin just wanted to spend time with his mother but she brushed him off after half an hour and his wanderings led him to a scrawny boy his age reading a book. Jon didn't care to be interrupted but Martin seemed genuinely interested in what he was reading and they spent the rest of the day talking about the deep sea. Later, they found out they lived close enough that Martin didn't mind biking to Jon after school. They started hanging out everyday, only really having each other, and went back to the beach some weekends.

Martin was worried that they would rarely see each other after he started having to go home earlier to take care of his mum but Jon surprised him by taking the time to walk there himself so that they could still hang out.

Until one week Jon stopped showing up.

Neither of them have phones; Martin because he couldn't afford it and Jon because his grandmother never really thought it was that important to have. Martin spent weeks by himself. Well, not by himself. He still went to school and had his mother (though she talked to him less and less and barely looked at him) but none of them were Jon and he didn't have time to go over. He kept cycling through names and started a list for the next time Jon came over. If he came over. Maybe Jon just grew bored of him or thought he wasn't worth the trouble anymore. Martin was used to that, people leaving.

Then Jon shows up again eyes haunted and looking frightened. He looked so scared that he didn't even bother knocking on Martin's door, just waiting outside until Martin almost tripped over him on his way to school. Neither had time to explain anything before police rolled up telling Jon that his grandmother was looking for him.

"I'm moving," Jon rushed to say.

"W-what? Where? Why?"

"There was a book and- and- spiders and no one believes me but Grandma says we have to go. I don't know where," Jon sniffled. "I'll miss you, Blackwood." The name they defaulted to whenever Jon hadn't been around in a while.

"Martin," Martin said. That wasn't a name on the list he made, dozens of monikers long, but it felt right in the moment.

"Martin," Jon repeated. "Martin Blackwood."

They hug one last time, both hiding crying faces.

Martin didn't bother going to school that day. His mother wasn't very happy with that so he didn't do it again, but even being surrounded by so many people he felt so bitterly alone. Then her health got worse. School didn't matter so much anymore.

He got jobs where they could accept him and applied for places where they couldn't. Disgust filled him when he put his deadname on resumes until he realized he didn't have to. At least there was some fun in that.

Chris, Marius, Timothy, Hector, Michael, Noah, (Jon once but that felt too much like theft), Nick were all names he started putting on resumes. "Martin K Blackwood" on the one he sent to the Magnus Institute. And he was accepted.

Becoming an Archival Assistant was a promotion that came out of the blue but not one that he would ever turn away. The name of his new boss was...hmm. Surely it wasn't the same. Even after all these years, the name Jonathon Sims made his heart leap, childhood friend turned childhood crush.

At least there was a cute dog! And-- Oh shit

...

Looks like it was Jon.

But there was no recognition in his eyes after Martin told him his name. That was okay, Martin was used to people forgetting him.

[anthonyreadsthecards]

Well lovely friend it is review time but before I go into it I want to say that should you ever want that reading, feel free to come my way and I'd be happy to do it for you. After all, you have helped me a LOT over this at least year since I got to be graced with your account. That may sound dramatic but it means a lot to get insight on a situation from someone just neutral and looking from the outside within.

Tw: mentions of abuse, family issues, gaslighting, manipulation, deadnaming, misgendering, there just is a lot tbh.

As for the review though: Once again you knocked it out of the park. It seems since he and I even first met (we had a VERY rocky start to our relationship as I only actually met him when I was about 6 1/2 years old), it feels like I was just fighting an uphill battle and losing immensely. To try and do this in a way that won't accidentally throw anyone in a loop via triggers, my dad definitely was a king at finding different ways to abuse me. Verbally, emotionally, mentally, you name it he did it. He was EXTREMELY neglectful to where I know if I was wise and called DCF, he would have definitely gotten in trouble, to the point where I most likely would not have been in his care. Why I never called or told anyone? I felt so afraid he would get mad because of his reputation being ruined.

Truth be told I was in denial for years I had any real "daddy issues" but it definitely is hitting me hard. As all my friends over the years would say, he was the "typical Asian dad (he is Korean; note: not all Asian parents are like this and I know that)" who literally would punish me in cruel and unusual ways or basically "discipline me" to leave it vaguely should I get anything lower than an A. He told me that if I was not trying to be a doctor, lawyer, or anything that made money, I'd forever be picking up garbage off the side of the road and I'd be in and out of jail like my mother, brother, and sister (my brother and sister are my half siblings, I was his only child). This has been about 20 years almost of him just using me, abusing my kindness and the issues between hin and I run deep and his side of the family essentially just blames his cerebral palsy for his lack of empathy and care while I grew up and literal neglect. Like, I'm sorry but who fights with a kid over lunch money or having more than Dustin's (a BBQ place) leftovers in the house to eat? Or to fight with them over things like school supplies and clothes because kids grow???

Ironic enough? I got SUPER lucky that I had some very kind friends who noticed I was in a VERY bad place mentally and I had actually done it to where I cut that side of the family off temporarily. My mom's side of the family despite not being that much better were kind enough to protect my location and would not let them near me, but they called my work constantly where one of the friends and I worked as my dad is one of the supervisors of the entire place and so kuch so that he almost got my friend fired and my boss even was about ready to call the cops.

So I caved. I felt guilty because at the time our relationship was decent enough and really it was my aunt I got very concerned over about other frightening stuff. So I finally talked to them all again and guess what? Nothing changed. I had a literal mental breakdown and they basically accepted the answer but still said it was not a good reason. To them? Literal depression that just keeps getting worse because of what my dad and his family does does not matterbeven if they say it does. Even when I have many times told them the things they say and do hurt me, they claim they are not at fault.

Now here we are again. This past year, nothing has changed and it is just slowly getting worse again. My dad scrutinizes every little thing I do. He deadnames me, misgenders me, and so much more despite him supposedly accepting that I am genderfluid and am not comfortable with my deadname and so forth. The only person who did actually care was my halmeoni (my grandmother aka his mom). I even expressed that I didn't get time with her like my cousins did and feel like the only way I can really keep myself connected with her was to learn Korean culture and the language because otherwise I did not feel Korean enough. He flat out told me if I wanted to be Korean so bad I could go to South Korea but she chose to come to America so I should be happy.

Especially as of late, my depression once again has gotten worse. It's so much so that I cannot recall a time I was actually free from it and of course, signs around me begin just popping up around me about how I just need to leave it all behind. Music for me is a big one, but I have seen it in films, media I consume and more. Literally just went to a concert for Aurelio Voltaire and I had been a fan of his for almost 15 years and he told us all his story about how heeft a toxic environment because he literally was going to if you will- commit unalive until he met some very helpful people and left. I NEVER heard that story of his but it hit me hard that night and now his song Raised by Bats is something I take solace in. I already wanted to move, but this gave me more reason at the time to do so. Shoot, I am even sure Odin whom I had not entirely had contact with lately due to me trying to get my medical issues sorted even slapped some hints right at my face too. This right here? This reading just is the final straw on the camel's back. For years I was the friend who would help others leave toxic families and relationships of any kind and give them a shoulder to cry on. Me? It is hard for me to do it myself. I always felt crazy whether I just was over exaggerating or not on his twists from what seems like a supportive father to a monster. Even friends who once respected him now tell me to leave. So thank you for this. This really helps put the nail in the coffin on what kind of game plan I need to make and I truly feel like me meeting Voltaire and seeing this after is definitely some divine knock on the door. I got to talk to Voltaire after the show too and he told me the story of a character in his book he was making, there was a character in his book with my name (just one letter differently but his name is Artorius not Artorias) who originally worked with the villains and he was the first to see that everything went too far. That enough was enough.

So to anyone else that is in my shoes and can try to leave such things? I'll give you the same words Voltaire gave me in hopes it helps:

"Enough it Enough. It's time to leave now."

Ok first things first you get a hug because...just damn my guy that breaks my heart that you had to go through that. Thank you for sharing your story with me and with whomever else reads this post. I understand wanting to hold out but you said it yourself a parent wouldn't act this way to their kid. I wish you all the best and I hope that you can find a place where you can be away from him and flourish with the people who truly do love you. Thank you, for all of this, and have a wonderful rest of your week.

[omegasmileyface]

some distant tommy ghoulatta backstory :)

[HLVRAI Danny Phantom AU]

warnings: death mention

words: 2299

AO3 link

===

Feb 1965, Wagon Mound, NM

G-Man looked at the dry, historic town around him as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of a church. He was staying in a cheap hotel a few towns away, where he had first seen all that supernatural stuff as a kid. He had come back to ask around for local stories and try to get some semblance of research done himself, and he was lucky enough to hear about a guy in this town who was supposedly obsessed with ghosts. After getting his address and name — Benjamin Fischer — from a local at a diner who was intrigued by G-Man's search, he set off immediately.

Fischer's house was close to the church, so G-Man got out there and walked the rest of the way. It was uncomfortably hot with his jacket on so close to the desert, but he knew how quickly that could change.

The house was small and modern, with an unkempt yard and a cross visible in the blinded window. After G-Man knocked on the door, he investigated the porch. Despite the lack of attention to appearance everywhere else, lush bushes were kept in pots by the door. They bloomed with deep, pinkish-red rose-like flowers despite the time of year.

A man, presumably Benjamin Fischer himself, opened the door.

"Hello. I've heard you've been doing some research on spirits and the supernatural?" G-Man said, quelling the slight intimidation he felt with the confidence of a man on a mission.

Fischer raised his eyebrow. "Who are you, exactly?"

Aw, crap. He was so excited he forgot to introduce himself. "Sorry. You can call me G-Man. I'm looking to do some research myself, and I need a better jumping off point."

Fischer looked amused, but didn't stop frowning. "Do you have a real name?"

"I've been going solely by G-Man these last few years."

The older man smiled wryly. "Well, boy, I try to keep my research to myself. I can give you some advice, but that's about all."

G-Man's brow furrowed, and he forced his face back into a more neutral expression. "Advice would be wonderful," (though he doubted it was anything he hadn't heard before), "but why don't you share your research? The more people know about what's out there, the more we can be equipped for it."

Fischer looked to the side and scowled. "There are people here who think I'm crazy, or better yet, some kind of Satan worshipper. I'm sure they'd like to see what I've found and make all sorts of trouble for everyone in town trying to 'disprove' it. Hell, there are people who'd take what I've done, use it against me, and then take it for their own."

"Ah... could I help you with your research then? I have no intention of letting anything found by either of us into the wrong hands."

"Sorry, kid, not looking for an assistant at the moment. You'll have to look somewhere else. And that advice, before you go — ghosts are more than just the impressions of people who used to live. Trust your instincts, they're closer to spirits than your brain."

G-Man frowned and thanked the man before reluctantly walking back toward the church. He could probably spend the night searching for anything supernatural in this town, but he'd have to go back by morning. Maybe he'd come by some other time and pester Fischer again.

---

June 1967, Wagon Mound, NM

In two more years of searching on his own, G-Man had learned some more about the supernatural, but not as much as he'd wanted. He'd gathered from books that all spirits had a central energy made out of pure passion that held them together, that they had physical forms but they didn't align quite right with the living world, that they were connected to some spirit world — all understandably but frustratingly spiritual and speculative. The only thing that seemed to be consistent was that a European flower called blood blossom, the flower that was blooming outside Benjamin Fischer's house, distressed spirits enough to ward them off.

He was in New Mexico again to visit his old spots, trying to see if he could find a ghost fresh enough to talk to him somewhat coherently. A waitress at a diner in Wagon Mound had recognized him and told him that Fischer had died a few months ago and it may not be best to try to visit his house.

Of course, that's just what G-Man did.

Clearly, Fischer had lived alone, and the house looked untouched. The yard was colder than the rest of the town, though it was night, and from the way the hairs on the back of his neck spiked, G-Man was sure it was due to a paranormal presence. Either an effect of Fischer's studies, or he was haunting the place. If G-Man's research was correct, ghosts newer than a few years didn't have enough of a presence to really do anything, or even be conscious, but they tended to hang around where they had lived and affect the atmosphere there.

Following his instincts just the way the man had told him to before, G-Man walked around to the back of the house. There was a back door, the sort that might connect to a kitchen, but a small broken window revealed that the room inside was nothing of the sort. Instead it had metal tables like a lab, surfaces covered in books, and metal boxes lined up against the walls. Some boxes and jars in the room seemed to glow when he looked away from them, including a Florence flask which was knocked over on an otherwise clear table, spilling some translucent liquid which had yet to evaporate.

The closer G-Man got, the more the chill picked at his skin. He could tell he wasn't wanted here, but the dried blood blossoms in his pockets should keep anything too bad from happening. It was worth it for the knowledge he could — would — gain.

He climbed through the window. It was too small to be a comfortable fit, but the door was locked and he didn't want to break anything that wasn't already broken. On the way through, his hand picked up a small static shock. Strange, since the window frame was plastic, but stranger things still have happened during G-Man's studies.

A workbench directly across from the door caught his attention. In front of stacks of books was a torn piece of paper, stained by whatever substance was in the spilled flask. Wild but legible handwriting read:

The items in this lab are not to be moved without the utmost dedication to their protection. I am dead, but my findings are still not to be let out of my sight. Intruders will be faced with my ghost. The security of my work is likely the death of me, be prepared for it to be the death of you.

It was signed by Fischer, but the corner of the paper was smudged unreadable by the liquid, leaving just "Ben".

It was certainly very passionate. Confident, even, from the assumption that his ghost would be around in the time it would be needed. But Fischer knew more than G-Man, if nothing else, he could be sure his ghost would stay with any stolen items until it could punish the thief. G-Man was weary to open any books or boxes knowing this, but stepped back to at least look around the room. Perhaps something could be gained that way.

In his inspection, G-Man noticed one of the faded glows becoming brighter. Suddenly, it coalesced into a figure. Directly in front of him, Fischer's ghost hovered, dark blue eyes piercing despite the overall unsure translucency of his form. He was angry, as fiercely protective of his work as the note had implied. He was also... startlingly solid. This was the closest G-Man had ever been to a ghost, but he was sure that they were not usually so defined at the edges. This ghost had slightly wrinkled skin, and his chest was moving as if he were breathing.

In fact, G-Man was certain that in order for a ghost to collect enough ambient energy to cast a form, stay visible, and maintain a consciousness, their essence had to remain for several years. Even in a place of highly concentrated paranormal energy like this little lab, it would take a year or more for just the emotional consciousness to draw together into a spirit. For what was clearly Fischer to be here so soon, and so unusually solid as well... something was clearly wrong. G-Man's investigative curiosity was almost enough to overpower his instinctual fear.

As the spirit's eyes focused onto him, the air in the room grew drier. It started to pull at the moisture in his skin and made his fingertips feel hot. Every luminescent stain and vial grew brighter until they appeared to occasionally arc between one another. Tiny discharges of hot energy.

There was no way G-Man was getting out of this without at the very least explaining himself. He steeled his nerves to the best of his ability and looked directly into the ghost's eyes, willing himself to ignore the dark lifelessness of the pupils. "Do you... remember me?"

Fischer's head tilted to the side, less like he was trying to remember so much as like he was weighing whether to admit something. "...I do not know you." He looked unsure, questioning, even though behind his firm protectiveness was a layer of desperate honesty. Especially so soon after his own death, he had to be terribly confused, with a sense of purpose but no information as to why it was so.

...Of course, unless G-Man has been misunderstanding something major, and he remembered his life just fine.

Still, assumptions lead to danger when it comes to the supernatural, so he decided to test the waters.

G-Man pointed to the smudged note. "So, Ben..." He avoided calling the ghost by his full living name. For all he knew, there was some ghostly cultural taboo against using someone's old name. The most literal form of a deadname, he supposed. The note said "Ben" at the end, so perhaps if the ghost had no memory of his life he'd understand why G-Man would think that's his name.

Fischer growled. Alright, then, bad move. "That's not it." He was looking pointedly at the note, eying the staining almost as if scared. Wait, was he questioning the cut-off? He must not have been used to going as just "Ben" in life.

"...Not your whole name?"

Fischer shook his head harshly. He looked as though if he weren't fully invested in keeping G-Man away from his findings, he'd be curled up on the floor in frustration.

"Maybe..." started the ghost, "maybe it was... Ben... 'ri'? Benry?"

G-Man had to hold back a startled laugh. Maybe he was thinking of "Benji" or something similar, because as far as he was aware, "Benry" was nothing close to a name. That being said, he wasn't going to bring up the possible confusion. He was on thin ice as is.

"Well. Benry, sir, my name is G-Man. I'm a paranormal researcher, just like... just like the man this lab belonged to, and I've spoken with him before to share findings. I was hoping to make some observations of this room for my own research and leave. I promise not to harm you or anything in here. May I please take a look around?"

The spirit (Benry?) stared back at G-Man with a renewed fury. "NO! The research in this room stays here. If it gets out, they'll take it for their own uses, all they want is-"

"I promise to keep it away from the government!"

It was a fight-or-flight response, really, G-Man just blurted the first thing he thought Benry might want to hear. Honestly, he had no reason to assume what he didn't want was government involvement, that's a bit of a stereotype when it comes to rural areas, right? Just because G-Man was afraid of the government after getting the cops called on him for a ritual last year didn't mean every paranormal researcher was. And interrupting the ghost wasn't any way to earn his trust, God why wasn't his fear enough to shut him up? I mean, even if he didn't react violently — it would be respectable, considering G-Man's bold act — making a promise to a ghost? Aren't they like the fae? What if he's bound to it? He wasn't planning on sharing anything with the government, not by a long shot, but what if something came up?

Benry's eyes widened and bored directly into G-Man, expression unreadable. Then he softened. Almost literally, his harsh glow lessened and a degree of moisture returned to the room. "You promise."

It wasn't a question, but it didn't feel like a command either. It didn't need to be. An expression of relief. "We protect the research together. You can build on it. Without the findings, there's nothing to protect. We must keep it from the wrong hands."

G-Man was shocked. The shock didn't lessen when Benry, and the note, faded from view. Was he... trusted to keep this research?

After standing still for a minute and feeling the room come back together, he let out a weak, belated "thank you." He approached a closed book on one table. If nothing else, he had to come away from this with some new knowledge.

When he touched it, the pages hummed with the same dry spark as Benry's glare. ...Haunting equipment was a good way to stay close, G-Man supposed. It seemed he had not only Fischer's findings to help his career, but his own defensive spirit, odd as it may be.

[gay-otlc]

*coughs* trans keefe headcanons,,, please <3

Why not? You get some more fun gender headcanons for a few other characters as well.

He/they Keefe

When he was a kid he would draw a lot, but he would always draw himself as male.

Their parents were always confused by his drawings but it was extremely simple in their mind- in an ideal world that they could create, they would be a boy.

He thought most girls felt secretly uncomfortable with being called “she” 

Then they manifested as an Empath and realized that other “girls” felt okay, or even happy, when people used she/her pronouns.

He impulsively cut his hair once- kind of badly, but he loved the messy way it looked and deemed it “Hunky hair.”

They also borrowed Fitz’s old clothes, since they hated the skirts and dresses Gisela always bought for them.

Once, when he was supposed to be at school, he ditched class and wandered around some elvin city. Since he had short hair and was wearing Fitz’s clothes, everyone assumed him to be male, and he had no idea why it felt so good.

They started to get more dysphoric more often as they got older, and their sketchbooks were suddenly full of pictures of Keefe in the body they’d prefer.

Once, his dysphoria got so bad that he couldn’t concentrate on class, and he went to Elwin’s office.

They thought Elwin would be confused like everyone else was when they explained their feelings about gender, but Elwin understood.

Elwin came out to him as nonbinary (they/them) and they explained to Keefe what being trans was.

Everything clicked into place.

Elwin also gave Keefe a binder and told them how to bind safely (we all know Keefe would damage their ribs given the chance), and helped Keefe choose their new name.

(Supposedly Keefe means both handsome and loved)

When Keefe came out to his parents, they reacted about as well as he expected- which is to say, horribly.

They lived with Elwin for a few weeks after that

Eventually, Cassius decided that if Keefe was going to live as male anyway, he didn’t want to make it more obvious that Keefe was AFAB, so he let him socially transition in public.

(He and Gisela still misgendered and deadnamed them in private)

While he was living at Elwin’s house, he still went over to the Vackers a lot, and came out to them as well.

Fitz didn’t quite get it at first, but he was supportive. Della was pretty much ready to go murder Cassius and Gisela herself. Biana’s reaction was pretty much “Okay. Can I still give you makeovers?” Alden, as expected, was an asshole about it. Alvar wasn’t there.

After Keefe helped Fitz understood gender a bit more, ze came out to him as boyflux and sometimes using ze/hir pronouns.

Much to Biana’s delight, as Keefe grew more comfortable in their gender identity, they became more okay with being a bit more gnc and liked wearing dresses and makeup sometimes.

Biana started using she/ae pronouns.

When Fitz and Keefe started dating, Keefe was a bit worried that Fitz only wanted to date him because ze saw him as still a girl.

They mentioned this to Fitz. Fitz laughed, apologized for laughing, and said it was just hilarious that Keefe thought ze liked girls.

When Sophie arrived, Keefe was a little nervous because he wasn’t sure how humans thought about gender, but when he came out, she was pretty cool about it and introduced him to human pride parades (and pride flags).

Everything they own is now a trans or bi pride flag.

He convinced Fitz to ditch class once and they went to a pride parade together.

This is so long I’m going to shut up now. Thanks, anon!

[artificialqueens]

Taste My Fears and Light Your Candle (To My Raging Fire) (Gottrosnali) - Writworm42

A/N: Mik has a dysphoria-inducing nightmare, and Denali and Rosé comfort him.

TW for deadnaming, misgendering, and body-related dysphoria, though these are relatively brief, they’re the “hurt” part of this hurt/comfort, so PLEASE take care of yourself and don’t read it if implied deadnaming, straight-up misgendering, and body issues trigger you.

The nightmares Mik has in this, as well as the things that make him feel better, are based on my own experiences. Transness is a million different experiences and narratives. There’s no universal experience, nor are there universal coping mechanisms. If a trans friend of yours struggles with these kinds of nightmares or anxieties, ask THEM what helps them best.

Title from Don’t Judge Me by Janelle Monae. Thank you thank you thank you Holtz for beta-ing, I love you so much <3

Something is wrong. Really, really fucking wrong.

Mik is walking down the hallway of…somewhere, he doesn’t actually know where. All he does know is that the hall is long, dimly lit, and even though the floors seem cold and concrete, his steps don’t make a sound as he travels, trying to find his way. There’s something on the walls, he can tell when he raises his fingertips to run them along the bumpy, scratched-over paint and they hit something protruding there, actually coming out pretty far.

Weird.

He stops in front of the spot he’s just felt over, turns to see if he can figure out what he’s just touched. Suddenly, the light in the hallway suddenly seems to turn up to one-hundred, making everything clear, and his heart drops straight to his feet.

A mirror. He’s staring at a mirror, but…

No. That’s not him. It’s not. It can’t be. His hair is too long, and his face is too round, and…

Holy shit. He brings shaking hands to his chest, trying to make sure he’s actually seeing what he’s seeing, that this is actually real.

Tits. He has tits.

No. He can’t. It’s impossible; he’s had surgery, he knows he has. They’re gone, they can’t have come back, they can’t—

What’s her name?

He freezes when he hears the whisper, a high voice that isn’t his. Can’t be his.

What’s her name?

It’s not talking about him, it can’t be. There’s no way.

Only then another voice, just as high, just as not-his answers with the one name he never wants to hear again, the one that makes bile rise in his throat and feels like a stake being driven through his heart.

No, no, that’s not him, they’re talking about someone else. They have to be. But then why is his hair long? Why is his face soft and his body curvy, and what the fuck is with his tits? And why are the voices getting louder and louder, she she she and that name, that Godforsaken name, over and over and over again—

“Kade! Kade! Kade, wake up! Kade!”

Mik rockets up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for breath. His head is spinning, and there’s still a whisper in his mind, remnants of his nightmare repeating words he doesn’t want to hear. With a jolt, he remembers what else he saw in his dream, and before he knows it, his hands are flying to his chest, touching around to make sure that it really was just a dream, that his tits actually are gone.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

Mik almost jumps at the voice beside him, followed by the realization that he’s got two hands on his shoulders and two more wrapped loosely around his waist, two pairs of eyes watching him with concern. Rosé and Denali.

Thank God.

“It’s…it’s nothing, guys, just a nightmare. It’s fine,” he shakes his head, but even as he says it, his voice quivers, because the fear hasn’t quite left him, not yet.

And his boyfriends must know it, because instead of letting it go, they hold him a little tighter, Rosé leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Was it one of those dreams again?” Denali prompts with a gentle voice, “The ones where….”

Mik doesn’t give him a chance to fill in the blank before dropping his head in his hands. “I don’t–I just… fuck . It’s stupid, I’m sorry, just…never mind.”

It’s just Rosé, and it’s just Denali, and it was just a dream. So why can’t he get a hold of himself?

Luckily, his two loves don’t seem to mind him being tongue-tied.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, Kade.” Rosé trails a hand down Mik’s arm, takes a hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

While Mik is grateful for that grace, grateful for both his boyfriends’ intuition, he’s also frustrated, because it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s not. It’s just that…

How do you tell two cis dudes that you dreamed your tits grew back, when sometimes it seems like all they ever talk about is padding them on for drag? How do you tell them that even after years of being on T, your old voice still pops into your head from time to time, when they certainly don’t ever get intruded upon by the voices they had when they were ten years old? Or that your worst nightmares are over things that are so small to them, so insignificant, shit like having the wrong kind of jaw?

How do you tell them that the memory of who you were forced to be keeps trying to ruin the happiness of being who you are, when they can’t possibly know how that feels?

“It was the voices again,” he finally bites out. “The ones that say my deadname. And then there was this, like, mirror thing, only instead of me in it, there was– I was…”

Rosé catches him just as he slumps into the older man’s arms, biting down hard on his own lip as he tries to stop the hot tears in his eyes from spilling over. He feels a hand on his back, and fuck, he’s crying, he’s probably ruining Rosé’s t-shirt, but he can’t stop, not when the hand is rubbing up and down his back, over his shoulder, grounding him and calming him.

“It’s okay, Kade,” Denali whispers, continuing his path along Mik’s bare skin, “Let it out. That’s it, good boy. It’s okay. You’re okay, Kade. You’re okay.”

Maybe it’s the way Rosé holds him tight, as if they’re never going to let go, or maybe it’s how Denali repeats it over and over again; either way, in that moment, Mik chooses to try and believe him.

“Look at me, Kade. Look,” Rosé finally begins to pull apart from Mik, though he doesn’t completely let go, not quite; instead, he cups the younger man’s face, tilts his chin up to look him in the eyes. “No matter what your dreams say, nothing about you is going to change. Nothing is going backwards. You are who you are, and who you are is a beautiful, amazing man.”

“He’s right, Kade,” Denali cuts in, still rubbing against Mik’s back in that steady, gentle way he knows Mik loves. “Dreams are just dreams. Nothing is going to re-grow or undo itself.”

“And as for those voices,” Rosé warns, a sudden dark edge to his voice, “If anyone tries to call you the wrong name, or the wrong pronouns, trust and believe, baby, D and I’ll teach them a thing or two about respect.”

He follows his promise with a light kiss to the top of Mik’s head, one that Denali then adds onto with a kiss on the cheek, and he can’t help but smile, warmth replacing fear as his boyfriends continue to hold him, comfort him. It’s something that always works for him–a little bit of touch, a little bit of reassurance, hearing his name and that nothing about who he is today will ever be snatched away from him. Not while Rosé and Denali have something to say about it.

“Thanks, you guys,” he sighs out contentedly after a moment more, his heart rate finally settling as the last of the nightmare-fuelled adrenaline leaves his body. “I’m okay now, I think.”

“Good,” Denali and Rosé both say at the same time.

Neither of them make a move to let go of Mik, though, and quite frankly? Mik doesn’t really want to move, either. Instead, he just shifts down, leads the other men to lie down with him, still holding him tight and cuddling him softly.

“I love you guys so much,” he whispers as his eyes flutter closed again, eyelids suddenly heavy as the fatigue of being awake at 2 AM starts to overtake him. “Thank you.”

“No problem, baby boy.”

“We love you, too.”

He doesn’t respond again, only sighs and smiles before he settles back into sleep.

[local80smotel]

All knowing love

pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader

summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.

requested; Anonymous

rating; T

warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)

word count; 2185

A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.

When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.

The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.

Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.

Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.

They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.

Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.

Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?

With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.

Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.

“I didn't expect you to come.”

He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.

“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.

A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.

“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.

“But you can simply call me V.”

"V" said while taking a bow

Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny

“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”

“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips

“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”

He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.

“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.

V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way

“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”

When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was

“How?”

V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”

The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.

He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”

“Does a raven speak?”

“But why?”

V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.

“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".

Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.

Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.

“Come sit, I have something to give you.”

“But you said-”

“Please?”

He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.

“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”

Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.

“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”

Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.

V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.

“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”

“mmhmm..”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

[save-the-spiral]

Wiztober Day Eleven: Darkness

Welcome to day eleven of Wiztober! One character is pointedly not named. I don’t like writing down or coming up with deadnames for trans characters, it makes me extremely uncomfortable (though they are misgendered, it’s from the perspective of people who don’t know they’re trans, or the character themself doesn’t know they’re trans). My first time writing more about actual cultures, and also a trans femme character more in depth. Feel free to send an ask and correct me if need be. (ALSO. I can explain the names in another post. the intersection of culture and gender comes into play). My content warning are specific but! they need to be. Sorry if it’s awkward! some things would be specifically upsetting to me if faced with them out of the blue, and I’d like to note them.

Content warnings for perfectionism forced upon children from their parents, physical and verbal bullying, ableism (towards a ‘weird’, not openly autistic person), chronic pain mention (endometriosis), attempted murder, injury mention, and like, two lines of implied racism, though it could be interpreted otherwise.

(link to prompt list)

Quyen and Phuong Jade were close siblings. Born only a year apart, Quyen was a good older brother, going out of his way to protect his two younger siblings, but with a soft spot for his sister Phuong. In the beginning they were three sons from a good, ‘normal’, Vietnamese family, even with an adopted youngest child. Now Quyen, Phuong, and their younger brother were wizards, and not all of them were sons, and they had left their home on Earth behind years ago. They had all left their names as well.

Quyen chose Celyn, and Phuong went by Morelle, and they chose the last name Jade together. Quyen was thirteen, Phuong twelve, and their younger brother ten. This youngest brother didn’t get input as to their new last name, and his first name was already western, given by parents he never knew. He saw himself as an afterthought most of the times, the adopted baby to be taken care of as Quyen and Phuong acted like twins, mischievous yet hard working together.

Celyn was eighteen, now. He never faltered when responding to his western, fake name. He was a year ahead of Morelle, and yet she spent more time helping him with his homework in their study sessions than the other way around. Morelle was also taller than him now, a consistent point of good-natured ribbing.

He was still supportive and protective, though his brother had insisted on being given space in his moodier teenage years, now fifteen with a steady girlfriend and a need to prove himself. So Celyn gave him distance, checking in sometimes but always being pushed further away. Morelle insisted that their brother needed to find his own friends, find himself, because although he seemed ungrateful, he still loved his siblings. They had to. They would always be family.

Morelle was seventeen, and even more outspoken and strong than before. She still had dragged Celyn with her to (almost) every doctor’s appointment as she transitioned, genuine when she looked him in the eye and said she needed someone to know, and care. Celyn already cared, and he found rare books on the magic used to help in her transition, and left them in her dorm.

Celyn always loved rare books, and had a skill for finding them.

That, one could suppose, is as good a start as any, though it goes back two years ago.

Celyn had been given a tip by a grateful acquaintance about where he could find rare, even forbidden, books in Wizard City. Just had to have the right key, and go behind the right waterfall, and be prepared to pay the price if caught.

Since he was sixteen Celyn had been sneaking into Nightside, slipping between abandoned streets and alleyways in the dead of night, wearing a dark cloak, carrying a dagger, maybe being a bit too dramatic. He had found some of his best finds in empty houses and bookstores, and even once grabbed a tome from the library, though that felt too actually criminal for him to attempt again.

At first it was just extra reading material, he and his siblings were all great life wizards, but they could always be greater. They strove for perfection as children back on Earth, and even now without parents to scold them, they still felt a frantic need to be the best, the kind that left them pulling all-nighters and waking up in a panic over tests already taken..

Morelle was fifteen when she started tutoring a pretty girl in life magic. The girl was known around school as quiet to the point of unnerving, never getting social interactions right, so the myth wizard had been labeled as ‘weird’ by the majority of people and written off as smart but too freaky to befriend. Morelle, who looked at this girl and couldn’t help but blush, who found her intriguing now that she noticed her, was thankful she had been assigned to tutor her.

Morelle and Morae became quiet study partners after that. Morelle came to Celyn for help with her rapidly growing need to get to know the girl, to speak to her and find a way to connect where no one else had tried before.

Celyn decided to find some esoteric myth tomes for Morelle to give to her new friend. That was when he found a book on Shadowmancy.

He kept the strange, unique book, shoving it under his homework an interest to pursuit later. He passed on the myth spell books and Morelle came back later, gushing about how Morae was from Earth like them, though on the opposite side of the globe, and then she said more and more until Celyn realized it indeed was a crush.

Celyn met Morae. She was as quiet as rumors said, though there was a logic to it, and Celyn respected that. They both relished in a silent, calm environment, and both enjoyed having someone outgoing and wild like Morelle to pull them out from time to time. They rarely spoke, aside from Celyn giving Morae advice about wooing his sister, and Morae asking clarifying questions about Morelle and how to interact with others without coming off as always aloof, when in reality she was actually rather excited or happy.

Something Morae was startlingly quick to divulge was that she was in nearly constant pain, and kept a blank face as a habit so she wouldn’t scowl at everyone. Then, she would forget to smile. When asked further, she just shifted, pressing a hand to her lower back, and muttered that it was chronic, and even magic didn’t have a cure, so she took standard medication imported from Earth.

Celyn wasn’t one to adopt others as friends quickly. That was Morelle’s forte. But something about Morae opened up his heart, and while his brother pushed him away, he felt like he was gaining a second sister rather quickly. He answered Morae’s questions, he kept and eye out for interesting books Morae would like. He even picked up food for her to try, although she was quick to dismiss things with unpleasant textures, it was something he did to add variety to her life, as she admitted living by routine was soothing, but sometimes monotonous.

It was a month or so later that Celyn actually delved into the book that had gotten lost in his shuffle of books and homework. Shadowmancy was interesting. It spoke of other schools of magic Celyn had never heard of before, ones concerning the Moon, the Sun, and the stars. Some part of him burned with a cold resentment that such lost knowledge was buried in abandoned shops and homes, that it could have been lost to time, even though students would always be eager to discover and learn a new school. He had to know more.

As Morelle grew closer to Morae, Celyn fell into isolation, only studying for school, and for this new magic he had found. Months passed, and the only times he left his dorm were for class or seeking out more books in Nightside’s forgotten corners, then dropping off books for Morae and Morelle during group study nights.

Things progressed. Now, Celyn is eighteen. Morelle and Morae are seventeen.

Celyn would graduate in a few weeks’ time. Morelle and Morae had been dating for half a year, still tentative, barely doing more than some adventurous hand holding in public.

The world shifted when Morae showed up to one of Celyn, Morelle, and Morae’s group study sessions with a bruised face, and couldn’t speak. Morelle instantly went to her girlfriend’s side, emotional but trying her hardest to not raise her voice or cry herself.

Celyn sat there, watching it happen, and felt like he was grinding his teeth into dust. Anger surged, as if someone flipped a switch inside him, and his usual pleasant and sometimes coy demeanor became nothing. His face was devoid of emotion, his green eyes, something so different from his siblings’ plain brown, were dull.

He saw nothing but the shadows, and the shadows saw him. Life magic had no solution for this aside from soft words and healing spells. Shadow knew how to twist circumstances in one’s favor, how to change the game and make others regret.

Morelle told him the next day before a shared lecture. Morae had allowed her to confide in him, and so his sister told him that there were some very persistent bullies seeking a response from Morae. That they had been doing this for years, and were just now escalating to physical actions. After that day, he spent more time with Morelle and Morae, supporting them. She would show up to their usual meeting spots with a random bruise or two, insisting it was nothing. He was trying his best to remain calm and not lash out at the entire world for allowing harm to come to Morae.

Instead he watched, waiting, but still he felt tense. A bow string pulled past its limits, cold with righteous fury that must be sated eventually. He became less orderly, forgetting some of the last assignments in his school career, dressing in ink stained theurgist robes, no longer tying his hair back.

Morelle joked that they looked like twins more than ever, and Celyn grinned at that. Their sharp smiles were identical, and Celyn knew he could bring Morelle in on the only secret he had ever kept from her, if only from omission.

So on a night where Morae wanted to study on her own for myth school exams, Celyn invited his sister over. He showed her the books he had accumulated, hidden behind his driest, most boring textbooks. She was interested, downright fascinated, but only drawn to what Shadowmancy could do to make her a better healer and protector.

Celyn had been drawn the violence. He was always of the opinion that the best defense was a swift and ruthless offense. Morelle had a better sense of when to play fair, where he was more ruled by anger. He probably should have guessed what facets of this school she would find entrancing.

She knew this about him too, and vocalized it when she noticed how much fewer his books on healing and protecting were. Morelle simply teased him, smiling as if it was something as commonplace as her razzing on Celyn over his height. Celyn smiled back, and knew Morelle was better at predicting him than he was at reading her intentions.

Celyn even brought her along on a visit to Nightside, where she could scope out and pick books of her own, and they didn’t sleep that night. It was amazing, the adrenaline of a heist combining with the giddiness of their old mischief making them carry twin smiles.

They were not careful. They were seen.

Those who saw them knew who they were. Who their few other connections were. A distanced, adopted brother who was busy being dragged around by an overbearing girlfriend anyway, and wasn’t consequential. And then Morae, the same girl they had been harassing, that they were so keen on finally getting a reaction out of.

So that was how things came to a head. Threats were made to Morae about getting the only people who cared about her kicked out of Ravenwood. Morae was angry, very angry.

All her life, Morae had been passive. She was quiet, sensitive. A good girl back at home on Earth, who kept quiet and did everything asked of her, even when that meant failing school to take care of siblings, even when that meant smiling and pretending she didn’t understand the insults, even if she was fluent in English as well as her native Spanish. She was different no matter how silent she was, her large afro of hair and Vitiligo always easy to point out.

Then Morae was told she had to potential to be a wizard, to go learn fantastical things. She took the chance, because when she asked her parents, they said they didn’t care either way, and tried to guilt her, but she didn’t get that they were trying to guilt her, and so she just left. She cut her hair close to her skull, the texture finally no longer a constant pain just under her skin, and became a myth wizard.

And for years, she still acted the same. Quiet, passive. A good girl. Until she reached out and asked to be tutored in life magic. And she found someone worth being herself for. 

Almost two years of being friends, almost six months of being girlfriends, and Morae had found her spine, confidence wrapping around her like a heavy, anchoring blanket. When threatened, anger rose up for the first time since she was very young. Anger made her fists clench around the strap of her school bag. It made her look up from her shoes. It made her pay attention and want to defend what was hers.

So Morae looked the bullies in the eye, standing at her full height of six feet, and scoffed. The eye contact was uncomfortable, but it was worth it for the bullies’ discomfort, as they noticed just how tall she was, how severe her face could look, even in the dappled sunlight outside the myth school. She told them she didn’t care, that they could bring it because nothing had worked yet, and she was getting bored.

Then she left, and within a minute she had interlocked her fingers with Morelle’s, and she kissed the girl on the cheek, spontaneous enough to leave them both giggling.

Morae told Morelle and Celyn about her confrontation that night when they were supposed to be studying, her eyes bright as she rambled on, open and honest and excited about this new development, as if it were idle yet juicy gossip, and not a serious threat.

Morelle knew Celyn was angrier than ever, though it was because he was scared, and he knew if they got caught it would be his fault. Morelle knew what kind of person Celyn was, and that her brother would take the punishment for the both of them if he could figure out how. And she wouldn’t let that happen, not when they could control the situation. In the past few weeks her studies in shadow magic pushed her towards thinking like this, and she found it very beneficial.

So Morelle, that night, told Morae about the school of shadow magic. Morae, who had already gone to the limits of her magical prowess mastering life magic alongside her first school of myth, was interested, but unable to learn it anyway aside from maybe a spell or two. Celyn, understanding what Morelle was going towards, helped her plan out what they were to do next.

What neither of them considered was that plans always fall apart the moment one comes in contact with the enemy.

And so this was where they were.

A day before graduation, and Celyn’s dorm was being searched after he was accused of attacking some students who may or may not have a reputation for bullying. He did attack the students, but it still felt unfair. Of course they found the shadowmancy books too, because Celyn didn’t exactly think things would get this far, and in his defense, he was eighteen, and thought a few stuffy textbooks would be a good cover for contraband. He was expelled, and then exiled, quickly and quietly. He was leaving through the Spiral Door before anyone knew what had taken place that morning.

Morae was missing. Morelle was frantic and looking for her, a lime green aura of powerful life magic fluttering around her, lighting up all the dark spots as she scoured everywhere one would expect Morae to be.

Someone, like a god damned serial killer, had slid a note halfway under Morae’s door sometime after Morae had searched her girlfriend’s dorm that morning.

It had just a location, and Morelle was on a warpath. If those who caused this, whoever Celyn had missed in his little vengeance mission, were still there, they would regret it.

Luckily for those people, they weren’t there. Morae was.

She had been thrown from the edge of Ravenwood, down into Nightside.

It was a gorey scene. If Morelle hadn’t been medically trained, she likely would have been unresponsive when faced with something so awful. She did all she could with her life magic, straightening broken limbs and bandaging open wounds, staring helplessly at obvious internal wounds. She even managed to conjure a stretcher, the fabric and wood a deep green, her magic too emotional to bother with proper colors as it glowed and levitated, illuminating Morae’s injuries in a sickly color.

Morelle ran as quickly as she dared, the stretcher following her, Morae’s breaths wheezing and shallow, filling the small cave entrance behind the waterfall when Morelle stopped for breath, in her mind trying to construct any plan.

There was no plan for this.

So Morelle walked out of the fine mist of water from the waterfall, using her magic to shield Morae’s body as the stretcher floated through. The busy students preparing for the graduation ceremony tomorrow stopped and stared from their places scattered about the Commons. Once shock turned to alarm, people began yelling and crowding around, more and more coming as they heard the others, and Morelle only got as far as the courtyard right before the tunnel to Ravenwood when she snapped.

Instead of lime green life magic, Morelle’s magic darkened. It became a forest green, still surrounding and shielding Morae, what little healing magic she had left being slowly fed into her body, trying not to overload her.

But around Morelle herself that forest green darkened further. She shouted for people to back off and clear the way, but still the crowd shifted, fellow theurgists offering their aid and conjurers offering faux sympathy after years of ignoring their peer, one of the best of them.

Then, ink falling into water, blood falling onto cobblestones, Morae falling into Nightside, Morelle’s ambient magic became a deep, unfathomable black. It absorbed light around it, filling out and circling like a predator, a deep chirruping hum of interest as it built a barrier.

Then Morelle’s shadow stretched, rising, holding a scythe she didn’t own yet. Shadow didn’t care for time, it knew who Morelle was.

And, as Shadow always does, it broke the rules.

There were limits to magic in healing, the potential to make magic spill over as if the wizard body was a cup and magic was water, and it was infuriating to many healers. Shadow could overflow, and still stay, all that magic anchored and solid, as if frozen and still rising, leaving bit by bit as the body absorbed it and truly healed.

Morelle’s hair rose, long black strands twisting and warping as she merged with her shadow, a sentinel and seraph in one form, armor clad in indigo and black, wings protectively curled where they became one with the barrier around her.

Next Morelle knew, she was in a daze, and it was the dead of night, and she was told of her expulsion, a key in hand as she entered the Spiral Door.

Next Morae knew, she was waking up as healthy as she could be, told of her girlfriend’s expulsion, and girlfriend’s brother’s exile. How those who were attacked by Celyn and those who she knew had thrown her off a cliff were getting off with no punishment for their bullying, or for their actual crimes of assault and attempted murder. And she was angry, and spiteful, but this time she was willing to wait for a better plan.

She would complete her last year of school in only months of time, and find her girlfriend. She would return to Wizard City one day, Morelle at her side, with a plan that wouldn’t fail.

So Morae smiled softly, if not a little tearfully, and quietly thanked the life student in the clinic who was known to rip up the homework of those he disliked. Morelle and Celyn had such interesting gossip from the secret hierarchy of life wizards.

There were many secrets in Wizard City. Morae would just have to find the right one to make Ambrose regret his choices. She would bide her time, but when the time did come, she would make eye contact no matter how painful, just to see that soft sparkle in Headmaster Ambrose’s eyes to fill with stark terror.

[the-gay-prometheus]

1 for René, 2 for Cadieux, 5, 7, 14 for any you want/all, 18 for the Ingolstadt Boyfriends™ and 22 for all :3

Oh Mist you really out here keeping me busy huh. Get ready for a long-ass post.

1. Were they named after anyone?

>Nope - neither for his deadname nor his chosen name. His mom just really liked the name she chose as his deadname, and as for his chosen name, he just liked the symbolism of it. René means 'reborn' if anyone didn't know.

And I chose it for its symbolism too.

2. What is their background? How big was their family? Do they have a good relationship?

>Cadieux was raised in Brest, France along with his older sibling, born to a single mother who made her living... at the docks. Said mother went missing when they were young and left the two of them to kinda fend for themselves. So needless to say, small family, got even smaller. Cadi had a really great relationship with his sibling. He looked up to them a lot and still talks about them even though he's not sure where they ended up.

5. Are they religious? What is their opinion on the teachings they grew up with?

>Victor: Absolutely not. Victor is about as far as one could possibly get from being religious. Luckily his parents weren't super religious either, so he didn't necessarily grow up around a lot of religious dogma. What religious teachings he did hear he just laughed off. Even when he comes face to face with the god-like, he sees himself as equal and therefore really doesn't give a shit.

>Henry: Henry is more spiritual than he is religious. He believes in a higher power, but he doesn't really see that higher power as being separate from the world. He finds sanctity in pretty much everything, and believes that as long as you mean well, that's all that really matters. His family wasn't necessarily very religious either - his father didn't really see the use in it and though his mother regularly went to church she never really brought it up at home.

>Agape: He'll take whatever Henry's having basically. Sure he was introduced to Christianity very early in life, but at that point he hadn't seen it as religion and saw it more as just... historical fact, until he eventually learned otherwise. Since he felt so inhuman, at the point when he learned Christianity was more of a human ritual type business, he mostly rejected it. Henry's belief that the sacred lies in all things was very comforting for him though, so he's chosen to take up pretty much exactly the same beliefs.

>Ernest: Similar to Victor except more that he just... doesn't care. He tries to focus more on what he can do for others just because he finds a lot of comfort in helping others rather than doing it for any religious reasons. Not to mention as far as he's concerned, what benevolent god would just create someone with the kind of health problems he has?

>Elizabeth: Elizabeth is kind of the odd one out in that she actually is Christian, but more in the casual sense. She'll go to church every now and then, she says her prayers, she believes in heaven, all that fun stuff. But she isn't going to sit there and tell you that everything in the bible is pure fact and that if you don't repent you're going to go to hell. Her beliefs are more aligned to how Caroline felt about religion - in that it can be a good way to find hope in otherwise difficult situations, but that it can also be toxic if you let it control not only your life but others as well.

>René: Nope. René flips god off daily.

>Percy: Percy is too busy focusing on equations to think about religion. He was raised in a pretty religious household, but he just kinda ignored it all.

>Alex: Alex has religious trauma. His family was extremely religious. So he would rather not be even asked this question. Needless to say, the answer is no.

>Jack: She believes in folk tales and old gods, much like her father.

>Cadieux: Calls himself Christian but only in the "do unto your neighbors and you would have them do unto you" way. He wasn't raised in a Christian environment, but he sort of gained these beliefs during his time in America for the revolutionary war.

7. Are they interested in science? Do they know of any significant discoveries/inventions from recent years? What is their opinion on the Enlightenment and the desire to learn/discover everything about the world?

>Victor: What would Victor be without science? And significant discoveries and inventions? As far as he's concerned all of the significant discoveries and inventions from recent years are the ones that he himself made. His opinion on the Enlightenment is "Yes." That's it.

>Henry: He thinks science is neat because Victor thinks it is. He's aware of discoveries and inventions and finds them fascinating, but he's more concerned about whatever it is Victor's doing when it comes to science. His thoughts on the Enlightenment are "learning and discovery is all well and good, but where is the fun in taking the mystery and the magic out of everything?"

>Agape: At first he very much doesn't like anything science related because, y'know, trauma. But when Victor starts teaching him things he actually becomes super interested in it and loves to learn about it. Hehe - he is a discovery/invention. Good for him! And his thoughts on the Enlightenment are somewhere along the lines of "we should strive to learn everything we can, but we should also understand that it's a goal that cannot - or maybe should not - be obtained"

>Ernest: Science is so cool! He doesn't fully understand it, but he thinks it's really neat - especially what we know as biology and ecology. The extent of his knowledge of recent discoveries primarily came from Victor, because not saying Victor was a better teacher than Alphonse but.... Victor was a better teacher than Alphonse. As for the Enlightenment, his opinion is "Why shouldn't we try to learn everything we can?"

>Elizabeth: Really not her thing. She honestly couldn't care less about the actual science behind anything, though she always loved seeing the results of Victor's experiments and she's certainly fond of the outdoors. She doesn't really know anything about recent inventions and ... again she really doesn't care. Her thoughts on the Enlightenment are "Why??? What is the purpose?? Why can't we just let things be unknown???"

>René: Absolutely loves science and, if it wasn't for his situation, he absolutely would have probably been a biologist or a physician (and would've been damn good at it too - probably even better than Victor would have been). He's not super aware of the new discoveries and inventions of the time, but that's only because he was rarely in a position to learn of them. His thoughts on the Enlightenment are "We have every right and capability to know anything and everything about our surroundings, sure, but maybe let those who can't fucking afford to go to school or whatever learn too."

>Percy: Science is ok but math is better. The only discoveries and inventions he's really interested in are in arithmetic. Enlightenment? As long as it means he can be enlightened in manipulating and theorizing about numbers, then he's interested.

>Alex: Botany is his thing, so sure he thinks science is cool! He knows a bit about current inventions and discoveries, mostly from class and classmates at Ingolstadt, but he's more interested in old discoveries regarding plants as medicine and trying to find the science behind those discoveries. As for the Enlightenment, "If it means we can help more people and if it means we can stop even a smidge of the amount of religious violence over beliefs and theories, then I'm all for it."

>Jack: Literally does not care about any of it. If it's not helping her make sails or cause chaos, she's not interested.

>Cadieux: He doesn't really have much of an opinion on any of it either. He knows his sibling was very interested in it, but neither of them had the tools or the ability to explore it so it didn't matter much to him.

14. Are they aware of any issues of the era they live in? Do they care, try to make a change, or do they feel there is no point?

>I'm actually not sure how to answer this one quite yet so- I'll get back to you on this at some point.

18. Can they dance? Do they prefer folk dances or more formal ballroom dancing?

>Percy and Alex? Of course! Percy is much more of a dancer than Alex is, and much prefers folk dances (which Alex is more than happy to watch). Alex on the other hand does enjoy a good ballroom dance, but mostly he just likes watching Percy do his thing.

22. How superstitious are they? Do they have any personal rituals/traditions?

>Victor: Used to be a bit superstitious in his little occult/witchcraft phase, but really isn't anymore.

>Henry: He finds superstitions interesting and fascinating, but doesn't really believe in them. As for rituals/traditions, I'll call endeavoring to sit outside for at least one hour every day a ritual.

>Agape: Agape should be very thankful he isn't surrounded by superstitious people because if he was, he very much would be. As for rituals/traditions, he's latched onto that 'sit outside for at least one hour every day' thing that Henry does.

>Ernest: Not superstitious whatsoever. He thinks superstitions are silly. As for traditions/rituals, he didn't really have any until he got livestock onto the estate. Now he makes sure to go and spend time with the goats every day, mostly because it's good for the goats to get used to the presence of people, but secretly because he just... really needs company that isn't Elizabeth.

>Elizabeth: Same as Ernest. They used to pester Victor about his superstitiousness during that phase of his life, and thankfully Victor knew it was all in good fun. Or... well- at least he didn't care whether it was or wasn't, because he really didn't care about what anyone thought about him except for Henry. Anyways - back to Elizabeth. She has a tradition of sketching at least one thing she can physically see every night before she goes to bed. It helps her fall asleep!

>René: René would set up a ladder just to walk under it. He would steal a mirror just to break it. That being said... he absolutely insists on wearing mostly red because he thinks it's a lucky color.

>Percy: A very superstitious lad, surprisingly - if a superstition exists, he probably believes it. His way of warding off bad luck is keeping a rabbit foot on him at all times!

>Alex: His life goal is to get Percy to stop being so superstitious. He probably won't succeed but that's alright. He doesn't really have any traditions, but Percy gave him a rabbit foot and - despite not believing it does anything - he still keeps it with him all the time because it makes Percy happy.

>Jack: Is only superstitious to scare everyone else. She'll make up superstitions on the spot just to cause chaos among the more impressionable people in her life. She carries a raven feather with her wherever she goes though, sort of as a good luck charm.

>Cadieux: He thinks superstitions are pretty silly, but he respects anyone that believes in them and will absolutely do everything in his ability to make everyone feel safe. That said.... he insists on wearing at least one red thing because he thinks it's a lucky color. hm...

[onemattwolf]

i know i’m a good person. i have a big heart--i’ve been told that many, many times. i actively try to be kind, and as i age, i’m learning how to be kind to myself, too. i love big and i love fast. my dad has his problems, but the best thing he ever taught us is the importance of loving those around us. i feel proud that i inherited his capacity for love, minus the jadedness that clouds him.

which... which is why it hurts so bad that i’m suddenly not a good person in some people’s eyes simply for existing as a trans person. i have a low bar for how people treat me already, due to 3 years of living authentically, but there’s so many people, that look at that bar and tell me it is too hgih, and push it lower.

Good people, too. people i’ve seen treat others amazingly, and then come to me and quickly decide i’m not worth it. and because they are, in the grand scheme of things, good people, and they are aware if this, they don’t question themselves.

i know i’m worth better. but i just look like a jackass arguing that with someone that thinks they’re treating me how i deserve to be treated.

i tried to stand up for myself to a nurse in a clinic that has consistently been treating me shitty, deadnaming me, misgendering me, but she just lost interest completely. i saw the look as she concluded that i’m not worth the time. i just had to get the injection and go. i felt sick

i know nurses deal with so much shit, i know that. but i also have seen these nurses sames deliver a different standard of care to their other patients. and suddenly i’m not worth that, when my only difference is that i’m trans.

just when i was starting to feel ready to start going to church again, look back into my faith, i was effectively cold shouldered by the community i grew up in. i don’t feel like i can go back, after that. i don’t think my dad would stand up for me, even though i shared this with him. he kind of shrugged it off. does he think i’m not worth that, too?

it all hurts so much. i’m happy with myself, yknow? so freaking happy with my transition. but all of that borders on not being worth it. should i just get super mean in response? but i know i don’t have that in me. i don’t even tell people that my order is wrong in a restaurant. i just eat and still leave a nice tip. i always let cars go first even if i have the right of way when crossing the street. i wait patiently for all the buses to turn into my local subway stn before crossing that driveway.

i say my pleases and my thankyous, i’m always gracious and grateful. i open the door for strangers. and i like it, too. i like being kind.

so, i know i don’t have it in me to get callous and mean in response to all of this. but i barely have it in me to respect myself enough and stand up for myself

god i’m just so sick of this really. and so very tired.

[the-baticeer-extraordinaire]

The Last of Us Part 2

So, I finished it a couple of days ago, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I spent about three days playing, and I plan to play it again soon. I have some Thoughts ™ about it that I decided to share, but be aware -- there are major spoilers all throughout this post! You’ve been warned! 

It’s broken into three sections: what I loved, what I hated, and what I’m mixed about. Discussion is welcome. :)

What I Loved:

In the first game, you get to see Ellie's experience with the world outside of the QZ - and most of it is new to her. She grew up in the QZ, raised by Fireflies. She doesn't know much about the world before the outbreak, but you get to see her learn about it. You see her grow up and mature in this new, violent world and the toll that it has on her. In TLOU2, she's an adult now with friends who all grew up in this new world - they don't have the experience with the old like Joel or Tommy or Maria, so they are learning as they go. They've only experienced THIS world. I really enjoy listening to their conversations about what the world is like to them, trade stories about their wildly different experiences, and point out things they find odd about the old world. For example:

Ellie grew up in a QZ, but Dina did not. They trade stories about what it was like - particularly, the horrors of living in a QZ.

Ellie and Dina comment on Joel's love for coffee, saying they didn't "get it" as it tasted awful.

Ellie and Dina discuss the first time they killed a "non-infected" and the circumstances that caused it; it's clearly something very emotionally important to them, especially as they were young. It's also likely that this is the reality for all kids growing up after the outbreak. They don't get the privilege of knowing a life where they don't have to kill others to survive.

When Jesse and Ellie stumble upon a bookstore with a kid's section, Jesse can't believe they decorated the kids area with mushrooms. Ellie says that they must have had a different meaning to people before the outbreak, and in her journal, she notes that people used to think that mushrooms were cute.

Lev points out that a kid's bedroom is painted to look like nature but that it isn't realistic, and Abby tells him that it's more a "dream-like version" meant to be cute and commonly painted by parents for their kids. She tells Lev that her own father painted her a jungle.

The uncertainty of knowing whether or not Ellie knew that Joel had lied. I had always hated that Joel chose to lie to Ellie, but I had always suspected that Ellie must have some idea. I liked the gradual revelation that she did know, that Joel had finally fessed up. There were moments when someone would ask her if she had any idea why that group would kill Joel, and I'd be saying, "Because Fireflies" but then I would have to think "Ohhh, but Ellie doesn't know that!" Because you couldn't be sure that she did until the flashback reveals.

I felt like the strained relationship between Ellie and Joel resulting from the lie makes perfect sense; Ellie placed all value of her life on being the cure, and it must have been devastating for her to hear that she could have lived up to that perceived value if it weren't for his actions. Shitty actions of the Firelfies and the unrealism of a mass cure aside, Ellie must have felt insanely betrayed by the person she trusted most. The growing gap between the two of them and her pushback against his helicoptering makes absolute sense, even if it's sad. If Ellie had just blindly accepted it without some kind of anger or betrayal, I'd have been really disappointed.

Despite the lie and knowing what he had done, she still felt a sense of injustice enough to pursue his killer. In her journal, she notes that she had suspected Fireflies all along, so she knows why they came and why they killed him.

At first, I really hated playing as Abby. I knew immediately from Abby and Owen's conversation on the cliffs that she intended to find and kill Joel, and I wasn't surprised because even though I hadn't seen any spoilers prior to playing, I fully expected Joel to die in this game. It just made sense to me that Ellie would be on a violent rampage to avenge Joel, so it wasn't hard to connect. But playing as Abby, ESPECIALLY after Joel's death, was really hard to swallow. I couldn't really get behind playing as Joel's killer, as I adored Joel as a character and I had a lot of hate for her. As I played through her scenes, I started to realize that Abby and Ellie are kind of two sides to the same coin. Both grew up in and are navigating this "survival at all costs" kind of world, both are the sort to go to the extreme to seek revenge, and both are deeply hurting from the loss of their fathers. I was slow to really appreciate seeing Abby's perspective, but in the end, I got to see qualities of Abby that I liked, even if I didn't care for her overall. It reminded me that people aren't all good or all bad - they're more of a mixed bag.

Ellie is a child in the first game, and so it's not really surprising that she doesn't really make a lot of life-altering decisions for herself. She goes with Joel and Tess because Marlene says so, and she goes with Joel because what other choice does she have? And in the end, neither Joel or the Fireflies give her a choice in her situation - she's just dragged along to whatever they think is best for her. The sequel is different - Ellie is an adult who lives on her own and makes her own decisions. She pushes back when she feels Joel meddling, and it makes sense considering how he took control of her situation before. So, Ellie's actions have a lot more weight, and she's actually responsible for them. What I love is that Ellie is unquestionably herself - even when I, the player, felt like she was doing something wrong, it was her choice to make. It makes her character all the more human that she's not some righteous saint getting revenge for Joel's death. She makes mistakes and does things that are morally questionable. It makes her like everyone else - someone who has both good and bad.

Lev. All things Lev.

Through Ellie's perspective alone, you don't get much insight about the conflict between the Wolves and the Seraphites in Seattle. Abby's perspective offers more, and it makes sense. Ellie is a visitor and unfamiliar with the territory, but it seems Abby has been a part of the Wolves for a while. It's clear that the tension has grown increasingly more violent recently, and you get to see all of that erupt with Isaac ordering an attack to wipe out the Seraphites. What's interesting to witness is that as you progress through Abby's story, you get to see the flaws of both groups and the atrocities committed by both. The real tragedy is that neither of the groups can set aside their differences to say that it's okay to live differently - instead, they constantly fight and kill each other. The Seraphites are convinced that the Wolves are sinful and need to be put down. The Wolves say the Seraphites are freaks and need to be culled. Neither side is willing to try another truce - instead, they subscribe to the "survive at all costs" idea, and the cost is the other side - who they clearly don't see as human. This is especially clear when you see how quick they are to turn on each other for "stepping out of line" like when Lev shaves his head, Danny attacks Owen for not being able to kill an old man, and Isaac is willing to kill Abby for trying to stop the Wolves from killing Lev.

Once Lev and Abby start running together, Lev constantly corrects Abby's use of "Scars" - the name that the Wolves call the Seraphites. This seems very important to Lev, and once you run into Seraphites with him, you understand his insistence as they continuously deadname him. Lev didn't give up his beliefs when be fled the Seraphites, and it's important to him that Abby not disrespect him in that way. Even more telling is that while Abby continues to use Scars for a bit, she eventually becomes more respectful and uses Seraphites instead - something that his own tribe couldn't do for him.

Holy fuck, I am in love with the aquarium. When playing as Ellie, the place had a super creepy vibe, so I wasn't feeling it. But I was genuinely excited every time I got to visit it as Abby because I LOVE that place. Except for the last time. That sucked.

Not only could you pet dogs, but you could play fetch with them, too. That's fucking awesome. 

I went into the game expecting an established relationship with Ellie and Dina, but I'm really glad I got to witness it blossom. I actually really loved how playful they were with each other, but also how comforting they could be for each other. All the little looks and touches filled my little bi soul with all sorts of warmth and happiness.

Ellie's inability to sleep, her flashbacks, and the note she makes in her journal about finally having a day that she forgets about Seattle all point to the traumatic damage that Joel's death and her revenge quest did to her. When Tommy confronts her about pursuing Abby again, Ellie seems to completely shut down at the idea, and Dina has to take control of the situation. I like the fact that they show the cost of Tommy and Ellie’s vigilante justice, like Ellie’s PTSD, Dina having to take care of Ellie on top of taking care of JJ, the failure of Maria and Tommy’s marriage, or Jesse’s parents having to live with the loss of Jesse. Similarly, Abby sees the same kind of consequences to her pursuit of revenge: she sees the loss of her Firefly friends -- something she clearly hadn’t expected to happen.

For the most part, I didn’t care much about Abby’s friends. I got pretty into Owen’s story, until he was perfectly okay with leaving Mel and his unborn child and running off into the sunset with Abby. I’m not sure how I felt about Mel in the end, and I hated Nora and Manny. However, I really did like to see their perspectives, and I especially liked seeing how much some of them struggled with Abby’s vengeance and torture of Joel. I felt like it gave me a bigger picture of the consequences of Joel’s actions at the end of the first game (and we all had to know there would be SOMETHING).

All of the cutscenes showing Ellie and Joel’s relationship over the years were an absolute delight (even the not so nice ones) because I fully expected to be able to have more Joel and Ellie interaction before his death. I’m sad we didn’t get that, but happy that I could still explore their dynamic through flashbacks. Don’t even get me started on the birthday flashback because I have so much love for that entire scene and will probably replay it more than any other part of the game.

The attention to detail in the environment was so stunning. In one the of the apartments in Seattle during Abby’s playthrough, I saw a tabletop RPG set-up and immediately screenshotted it and sent it to my gamer friend group. All of the lore notes you could pick up and read through with stories about FEDRA, Seraphites, or Wolves really hammered home the idea that each group was at fault for their predicament and contributed to the overall tension and bloodshed. I love the theme that no one is blameless, because in the post-apocalyptic setting, you really wouldn’t expect anyone to be completely innocent. Even going to view the models in extras, you can zoom in and see the level of detail they added -- like JJ actually has blemishes on his face in the one where Dina is holding him. I fucking love it, man.

What I Hated:

When you play through Abby’s story and finally get to the confrontation, the player actually has to continue to play as Abby and attack Ellie. This seemed like a particularly cruel set-up, given that most of the player base is playing this game because they loved Ellie and wanted to continue playing her story. I’ve seen comparisons of the encounter to that of Ellie and David in the first game, but I don’t feel like it’s the right comparison. The mechanics were the same, yes, but the situation is completely different. Yes, in Abby’s story, Ellie is the villain. Ellie murdered her friends. But in the case with Ellie and David, Ellie was a prisoner who then had to fight to get free of him -- Abby is not a prisoner and sought out Ellie on her own.

I understood the chronology of the story, and I enjoyed having the “so she DID know” moment after the game reveals that Ellie knew that Joel had lied before she went to Seattle, but I think that the way the game switched between Ellie and Abby felt very weird. I didn’t exactly rush through Abby’s scenes, but the cliffhanger between Abby pointing a gun at Ellie and then switching to Abby’s story years before felt super jarring, and it made me more resistant to trying to understand Abby at first. I think the switch between perspectives could have been set up differently for a more satisfying playthrough.

I swear to you, I hated the rat king with every fiber of my being. I was already so creeped out by exploring ground zero -- the sheer amount of anxiety I had as I was searching for those damn supplies was intense, and then having to constantly run from the rat king or be killed felt like complete insanity -- and I played on the easiest setting! I wish they had some sort of way to opt out of those things for those interested in seeing the story play out. I know a lot of people who struggle with the combat mechanics but who want to see Ellie’s story.

In fact, slogging through all the infected in general felt really tedious. 

Yara’s death felt like it did absolutely nothing for the plot and only served to further the pain of Abby and Lev. We had already seen how vicious both the Seraphites and the Wolves could be -- the point didn’t need to be driven home by such a senseless death. Even though I also hated Mel’s death, I could see how it played into the confrontation with Abby and Ellie -- why should Abby care about Dina’s pregnancy when Ellie hadn’t extended the same mercy to Mel? Abby couldn’t have known that Ellie didn’t know. But Yara’s death served no good purpose, and I’m still pissed about it. Also, why the fuck would you kill her after the HELL the players go through to get the supplies to save her and actually have Mel be able to save her only to kill her off shortly after? It makes zero sense.

I also really hated Jesse’s death. He seemed like such a good person and his death was so unnecessary -- especially since Tommy got to live. His family and JJ and hell, Ellie and Dina, even, didn’t deserve to lose him, especially as he hadn’t even done anything to Abby. Ugh.

When Tommy pulled out that map and started talking about having a lead, I felt every bit of Dina’s outrage at the situation. Their need for vengeance had already cost everyone so damn much, and it seemed absolutely bonkers that Tommy wanted to go after her again -- especially when he had seemed perfectly okay at the theater to pack up and go home with Abby still alive. He went from “Are you good with that?” about leaving Abby alive to “You made me a promise” to Ellie when Ellie says she won’t. Ellie had Dina, a baby, and some serious PTSD -- she had no business being set back on that path, but Tommy didn’t seem bothered by any of that. 

Was it not enough to make Ellie lose her family, but make her lose her fingers, too? I appreciated the game’s constant insistence on the consequences of your actions in this survive at all costs kind of world, but it seemed like a lot for Ellie to wind up losing her fingers in the end. Blah.

What I Have Mixed Feelings About:

I was not as upset about the ending as most people seem to be. I think it says a lot that Ellie went all that way to Santa Barbara and in the end, spared Abby’s life -- in the same way that Abby initially refused to fight Ellie. It felt like they were both fighting someone else’s fight and were finally tired enough to let it die. It did feel pretty frustrating that she went all the way out there, nearly died, and lost two of her fingers to kill Abby, only to not end up doing it and thus negating the whole damn trip, but I also feel like Ellie needed the sort of closure that trip brought. In the end, it was her decision to let Abby live -- a choice that had not been given to her years prior, when Joel took her from that hospital. I like to think that she finally understood Joel’s decision.

When Dina refused to support Ellie going back after Abby, I wasn’t surprised, and I didn’t really blame her. I was even pissed that Ellie chose to go after what had happened last time, and I couldn’t really understand why she’d be so willing to leave her family behind when this had already played out so poorly for her before. I also wasn’t surprised when Ellie returned to find an empty house -- I’d imagine that taking care of a farm and a baby at the same time would likely be too much for Dina, and I just assume she moved back to Jackson, where she’d have help. Either way, I’d love to know if Dina was fully done with Ellie for good, or if she’d accept her back if Ellie went to find her. I know that the loss of their relationship is a direct result of Ellie’s actions and the fact that she prioritized killing Abby over staying with her family, but goddammit, I just want a happy lgbt ending for once.

I was genuinely excited to have a trans character in the game. I cannot express enough how much I adore Lev. In a way, his and Abby’s relationship reminds me a lot of Joel and Ellie’s in the first game. They depend on each other, and they obviously really care about each other. One of the things that super bothered me was the storyline with his mother. We already know that he’s pretty much cast out and hunted for being trans -- so we can see the horror of it. It was rough enough to know that his own mother could turn away from him and condemn him like all the rest, but having her attack him and forcing him to kill her in self-defense felt like a lot. I just can’t imagine how triggering that might feel for trans people playing the game.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 6--Magic and Memory

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo remembers his last night at home. He and Demyx discuss their pasts, and what their relationship might mean.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo dreamt again about that night.

It had once been vague in his memory, cauterized, but as he grew older, the magic revealed it to him, bit by bit.

The beautiful castle in Radiant Garden, Father. He’d just barely fallen asleep on a night like this one, one full of moonlight, to Father’s soothing voice reading stories. He woke suddenly to a tang of magic aching within his own, and a different stink, a stink of smoke--

“Ienzo! Ienzo!” Even grasping at him, hauling up, but he was eight now, just a little bit too big to be easily carried--Even managed it anyway, stumbling.

“What happened?” he asked, gazed. “It smells like--”

A deafening bang. “There they go! It’s him! He’s got the girl!”

Even ran harder, sending out as harsh a wave of magic as he dared, but it weakened him--Ienzo reached out to lend him his energy, his strength. “Thank you, child,” he muttered. “It’s not much farther--” He squeezed Ienzo so hard it was difficult to breathe.

Aeleus’s voice. “Even?”

“We have to go now, Aeleus, that fool is here and she has reinforcements. ”

“I know. The whole west wing is up in flame. Broke through our wards--there must’ve been a rat.”

“The west--but Ansem--did he--”

“It doesn’t matter. You and Ienzo have to go .”

“What about you?”

“It is my duty to get you out safe--nothing more.”

“What of Dilan? Where’s he?”

“Enough questions-- go .” Aeleus pressed a rough kiss to Ienzo’s head. “Get him out safe--that’s what matters.”

Even ran, and ran, through basement pathways--eventually he set Ienzo down, and they ran together, breathless, clutching stitches, the smell of smoke getting worse and worse--

A smooth, gravelly, deep voice. “There you are.”

Even threw an arm in front of him. “Xemnas? We have to get out of here, that fool Maleficent is--” Then, “the… wards. You--why?”

“Even, you know as well as I do that this system isn’t working. This… oligarchy. People are dying, starving in the streets--you’ve no idea the hell Ansem has wrought over this land.”

“You swore an oath.” He scooped Ienzo up again. “Now let me through.”

“Else?” The smell of smoke grew thicker, then Ienzo realized… it wasn’t just smoke. Thick, dark creatures emerged from the shadows. “Give me the princess, Even. I promise no harm will come to her.”

“Why should I believe another word coming from your filthy mouth? Ansem… he loved you, Xemnas, and you-- betrayed us. Why?”

“Give me the princess.”

Ienzo saw the creatures, their hungry gold eyes, their long sharp claws… he started to pull at his magic, remembering what Merlin had taught him.

“My father has big plans for her.”

“I will kill her myself before I allow him to lay one finger on her. That fool. You were supposed to be different. You said you were, and Ansem believed you--"

Ienzo felt the coldness of a shard of ice against his throat.

“You’re bluffing.”

Even pressed the blade against him a little harder.

The man tapped his long fingers together.

“Better she die quickly than live a life suffering in the darkness.” Even leaned in. “Now, child,” he hissed.

Ienzo screamed and threw the magic with all his might, pulling from places deep within himself he’d always been encouraged to keep hidden, to keep under control. The magic exploded from him, piercing all of the Heartless, striking Xemnas in the chest--

Pain budded in his eyes, growing stronger and stronger as he cut through more Heartless.

“Enough, child, that’s enough--”

The pain peaked.

“You have to stop .”

Everything was going dark, agony exploding from his right eye. “I can’t.”

“You can. You can. Listen to me. Child. Breathe, rein it in. We’ve got him. We’ve--” A strangled noise, and Even disappeared from view, and Xemnas’s hands were wrapped around his throat--

Ienzo screamed and released more magic, and everything abruptly went dark.

---

He always hated that dream. His eyes were damp as he woke, slowly treading consciousness. He sat up and touched his right eye.

Xemnas had betrayed them at his father Xehanort's request, revealing all their weaknesses to the sorceress Maleficent, spilled darkness like ink all over Radiant Garden. They'd been running ever since. All the easier for Xehanort to slip in, to instill control… and Ansem's grip on the rest of the city-states collapsed completely. How on earth was a resistance going to be able to counter that? Then Maleficent ended up “mysteriously” dead, and Ienzo… was half blind. It remained a permanent warning of what would happen to him if he used too much magic. The energy alone will shred you, Even had told him. Literally.  

It was ludicrously early, but he got up anyway, dressing slowly, his skin still so sensitive, achy, almost.

Zo! Good morning! Busy later?

Demyx.

Ienzo never thought he'd have come out of this with a… what, exactly? Boyfriend? Mate? Partner?

Even said there were ways to break this bond. But why should he? He'd never had anything to himself before, and besides, if Demyx could jam him, all the safer. But true… they may have made out for hours yesterday, but they barely knew each other.

He could fix that. Reveal his… truths.

Ienzo exhaled. One thing at a time.

---

He went to class. Eraqus's junior-level industrial/organizational psychology class was interesting, and then there was the class Demyx TA'ed. He hadn't been able to test out of art credits, and found himself glad. He wondered… this was all magic. He hadn't consciously chosen Demyx. Would he have, if he could? He'd never been allowed choices. Was it the magic suddenly finding attractiveness in those features, or his own budding sexuality? Did he have free will at all?

(Thinking of the electricity of that kiss, did it matter? Clearly his magic and body both thought they were things worth seeking.)

Ienzo suddenly wished dearly he had a friend to talk to about all this. All he had were Aeleus and Even; the former had been pulled away by his work, and the latter had been too enraged to speak to him this morning.

Ienzo wished for his father, thought of another sort of coming out--he'd only been seven or so, but knew it was truth down into the core of his being. Going to Ansem in his study. Asking him why he was a girl, receiving a lecture about biology, then stating point blank--"what if I were a boy?" Ansem had been confused, but then, "do you think you are?" And when he said yes, all Ansem did was smooth the dress Even had stuffed him in and say, "then we'd best get you more suitable clothing." It took more time for everyone to get used to calling him the proper pronouns, and even then, they kept the truth of his gender within the inner circle, to wait until he was older. Hence… Xehanort never knowing.

He thought of this as Demyx rounded him up after class, his expression so soft as he looked at Ienzo. "You ready?"

"Quite."

They made their way towards town. "Can I… hold your hand?" Demyx asked. "Or…"

"Perhaps… not just yet."

"Okay," he said, clearly disappointed. "So… Riku's got class then work until like 8, is my place okay? It's still warded and stuff."

Did Demyx think there would be more kissing? (Ienzo cursed the fact that the idea excited him.) "...Alright."

He smiled. "Great."

The inside of the small apartment smelled like garlic. “Ah--sorry,” Demyx said quickly. “I was cooking yesterday and I completely forgot--”

“You like to cook?”

“Yeah, I’m told I’m not half bad at it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nice to--be good at something objective. Which music so totally isn’t. I’d offer you some of what I made, but… Riku demolished it all after he went to the gym.” A shrug.

“Are you two actually friends, or is it merely an arrangement that works?”

Demyx snorted. He pulled a bottle of juice out of the fridge. “Well--yes, and yes. Want some? I made it myself.”

“...Sure.” He was given a glass of something pinkish and cloudy. They sat on that same horrible couch. “I need to… know more about you. All of this is making me wonder--”

“If we even have free will?” Demyx winced. “Yeah. It’s, uh, a conundrum.”

“You’ve known about this bond longer than I--is it… genuine? That is to say--” He had no idea how to put any of this.

“I’ve tried dating,” Demyx said. “Like, not to be a slut or anything, but I’ve dated a bunch of people, of all different genders. And it was fun, and nice, and sometimes I even liked them a whole lot, maybe loved them a little. All I know… this feels a lot… more intense than that.” He bit his lip.

“But this bond. Is it… merely lust and infatuation, and that encourages more stable bonding? Or--”

Demyx let out a long breath. “My parents had this kind of relationship. But the long and short of it is… yeah. If we really… go through with it… if we… choose it, then… it’s kind of a forever thing.”

“What do you want?” Ienzo asked.

“I want… I want to be happy. And I think… this could help.” He swallowed.

Ienzo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “There are a few things you have to know about me, then,” he said quietly.

“Like what?”

“Firstly… I’m transgender.” The word felt odd in his mouth.

Demyx shrugged. “Okay. No big deal. I’ve been with--” Ienzo heard him catch himself. “It doesn’t bother me, or anything. Why would it?”

His flushed worsened, and so did his anxiety. “So… I was once a girl. And my name… it was--”

Demyx raised a hand. “I don’t need to know your deadname.”

He felt his eyes watering. “In this case it is important.” He tried to slow his breaths. “It was _____.”

Demyx blinked. Then he looked at Ienzo, really looked at him. “As in…” He sputtered. “ Princess _____? You’re--”

“The prince. Yes.”

There was just a moment of shocked silence. “Holy shit ,” he said. “I mean--I’m sorry--ah--your highness--”

Ienzo scowled. “No. None of that bullshit.” He exhaled. “I came here to try and have a normal life… while the resistance… tries to rally itself against Xehanort. To stay alive. ”

Demyx went pale. “I kissed a prince. God, that is probably so--”

Ienzo exhaled. “For the record… I did like it. But-- you won’t--”

“Tell anyone? I’m not a fucking narc. I just can’t believe--everyone thought that the… sorry, princess, is dead and shit.”

“...Precisely. My transition is part of why I’m still alive.”

Demyx tried to gather himself. “Ienzo. Listen, my… people, or whatever, have been hunted for fucking ever. I’m not going to turn you over--to anyone.”

He believed it. “That is… a comfort.”

Demyx touched his cheek. “Is that why I’m so drawn to you? Because you’re uber powerful?”

“Quite possibly,” Ienzo said. “Though… I feel it, too. For you to be able to block me… your power isn’t insignificant.”

“So what do we do?”

“I need to know more about seekers. ...And Riku. Whatever you know about your people. We can… see how this might be of use, to the resistance, or ourselves.”

“Otherwise?”

“Otherwise…” Ienzo trailed off. “I want to… explore this further.”

“Right,” Demyx said softly. He leaned in and kissed him, and like the kisses before it seemed to wake up Ienzo’s whole being. He couldn’t help but respond, already feeling a gathering warmth in his belly. He felt Demyx’s tongue against his lips and let it in, for a moment fascinated by the strange texture of it before Demyx was making him feel things he didn’t think it was possible to feel, making him feel so utterly… turned on, aware suddenly he was sweating. All of him screamed I want. Demyx’s hands wandered over him, exploring slowly, as if to savor it, and he was eased back onto the couch. Feeling their bodies pressed together--Demyx’s hand slid down between his legs--

“No,” he said softly. “No. Not yet.”

Demyx pulled away. “I’m sorry, I… it just kind of happened--I should've asked--”

“It’s okay.” He sat up and neatened himself. His body screamed at him for refusing the touch. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“You’ve never… done anything?”

“No. When would I have?”

Demyx shrugged. “We should probably try to… wait,” he said. “On anything, anything.”

“Until we know each other better? That’s a good point.”

“Because…” He whistled a little. “I mean. Sex kind of seals the deal. You know?”

“Consummation?”

“When you put it like that.” He wrinkled his nose. “Once you… start having actual feelings , and then act on them, it--gets messy.”

“...This is more complicated than I thought.”

“Tell me about it.” He drummed his fingers on his knees. “Tell me about you,” he said. “Tell me everything.”

Ienzo hesitated. He wanted to trust Demyx so badly. But yet… “What is there to tell,” he murmured. He sighed.

“Not the… royal stuff. You . What you like to do.”

Ienzo blinked. “We kind of touched upon this before. But I… like to read. I like to learn. I used to… write, once upon a time, very bad poetry. Growing up like me often made me… quite angsty.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wrote about it--thankfully it’s all long gone. But I don’t need to write, the way I assume you need to create. If I read or learned, I could pretend… my isolation was voluntary.” He flushed. “And this all sounds rather pathetic.”

“Not pathetic , but it does suck.” His eyes were so pitying. “You never… had any friends, or anything?”

“None that lasted--aside from my guardians. Though it seems you are something of a social butterfly.”

Demyx shrugged. “Kinda comes with the territory,” he muttered. “I don’t, like, try to charm people. Or enchant them, or whatever. But like fucking everything I do, it’s not conscious. It just makes me wonder--” He scoffed. “How many of my friends really like me, or are drawn to me because of what I am?”

“I have the opposite problem,” Ienzo said, with a smile. “People hate me because of what I am.”

Demyx smiled too. “It… doesn’t exactly do wonders for my self-esteem. I wish I could turn it off. Part of me… almost has this fundamental fear that I’m unlovable, and the magic just convinces people otherwise.”

Ienzo blinked. “Surprising, then, that you’d consider a pairbond.”

He fiddled with the pendant. “I… know,” he said. “It makes no sense. It’s part of me. Part of my kind. That’s even harder to resist. So I just tell myself it’s a choice. And it is.”

There was a moment where Ienzo was unsure of what to say. “So what is your kind?”

Demyx held the pendant up to the light. “Seeker is kind of a… misnomer, I guess you could say? The language is actually so fucking old. When we were first were created , or whatever, we were apparently put here to… protect.”

Ienzo had a feeling he already knew. “Protect what?”

“Whatever we consider to be important, I guess,” Demyx murmured. “That where everything gets weird. In the myths… nobody told us what our purpose was. So we just draw in everything until we… find that something.” He exhaled. “I wish I were just human. I really do.”

“You and me both. My kind apparently served as a liaison between the gods and man, hence my magic. But I can’t hear them the way I can hear the earth. Who knows if this is all just stories?” He shook his head. “What if it’s all something we made up to give ourselves clarity? And people are dying for such stories ?”

“Who knows,” Demyx said softly.

“So your parents were also seekers. And you haven’t heard from them since the islands fell?”

“Since I washed up on the beach,” he said casually. “But that was before that. I was hoping to find them. Considering what I am… actually finding people isn’t that easy. Maybe they’re dead. I don’t know. Almost makes me glad my memories are like swiss cheese. This stupid necklace is all I have from my past.”

“They… are? Your memories?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

Ienzo put a hand under his chin. “Do you think perhaps someone… or something… deliberately cut off access to your other form, and manipulated where you ended up?”

He blew a raspberry. “I mean I guess.”

“Can I see it?” Ienzo asked. “The pendant?”

“Uh… sure.” Demyx leaned forward so Ienzo could touch it. It felt like glass, smooth and warm. Again, that rune. Ienzo was suddenly sure he’d seen it before… but where ?

“Could I… study it?” he asked.

Demyx furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve never taken it off.”

“Nothing ill will come of you if you do, right?”

“I don’t think so, but--”

“Maybe I can help you find your memory. My guardian… knows a lot about such magic. Is that something you would want?”

Demyx held it in his palm. “You think this thing could be holding the memory back? Or--”

“I don’t know.”

After a long moment, Demyx reached up and pulled the necklace over his head. He still hesitated before he handed it to Ienzo. “Don’t lose it,” he said, almost desperately.

“I promise I won’t.” He considered it. The necklace was still glowing, though a bit less so than before. “Do you feel any different?”

Demyx shook his head.

“Let me know if you do at once.” He slipped it into his pocket; it still remained warm. “I’ll look into this right away.”

“Do you think it’ll help?”

“I hope it will.”