#learned how to have an ounce of empathy

[haydenthewitch]

and also CAPATLISM IS B- (collective groan from the auduince) (intense booing) (a man shouting NO SHIT SERLOCK) (the click-clack of a bunch of womens sjoes standing up and walking away) (gunshot sound x3) (the sound of a cat being startled and running away)

[scarletttries]

When Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Fall in Love...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: It's been a while! I haven't posted in a while but I've got some time at the moment and I'm just finishing a first playthrough of BG3 so wanted to write some headcanons for our charming companions. Consider me open for any BG3 request too, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Travelling with you makes Astarion feel grateful he's had hundreds of years to perfect his flirting technique. He knows exactly how to let you know what he's thinking without ever giving away too much of himself, how to flash his smile without ever lowering his guard. He thinks once again he knows exactly how to capture your attention, and possibly your body, without losing an ounce of control. That is until you say something that catches him completely off guard...

- "I'm really sorry to hear that." You should have laughed at his expense, his self-deprecating humour and haunted tales from his past worn like the toughest armour over silky open shirts. But you hadn't laughed, or scoffed, or replied with some equivalently sarcastic tone. Instead you'd offered empathy, a warm look and an extended hand that somehow didn't feel like pity to Astarion either.

"Well that's enough self-pity for tonight my dear." He quickly excused himself from the campfire, turning his back as he entered his tent to hide any visible blush his cheeks may muster from the way you said good night. Of course his blood didn't circulate that way any more, but he was almost sure he could feel his heart rising in his chest as it had when he was still a mortal man. No, this didn't feel right at all.

- It would be easy for Astarion to pretend he was only interested in a night of carnal pleasures with you because of all the beauty you possess, and he'll let everyone else think him a shallow man just the same. But when he lets his mind wander freely it's your kindness he finds himself dwelling on, or your firm but fair moral code that seems to carry you through these intrepid lands without doubt or tribulation. He almost wishes he had met you sooner, so sure that his life (and after-life) could have turned out quite different with you by his side at those strange early steps.

- Suddenly all his effortless flirting feels a lot more challenging and he can't decide if he should risk a small amount of sincerity to let you know how we feels, or just to double down on letting you know one night with him would ruin you for any other lover. Luckily both approaches are met with the affection he craves, and slowly but surely Astarion starts to feel like he might be able to have something real for once.

Wyll:

- Ever the hopeless romantic, Wyll was already a firm believer in love at first sight by the time he ran into you and experienced it firsthand. He fears he cannot be too bold, his staunch commitment to his duties governing his life in a way that does not leave much room for any other kind of commitment. He tries to let his feelings settle at the back of his mind, in the hopes that in time they will become nothing but a dull ache he can learn to live with.

- That could not be less of the case for poor Wyll though, your face filling his every nightly dream and your voice echoing through his mind in every moment of silence. His heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing day you travel together and soon it feels almost inevitable that he will be yours, even if he can't quite bring himself to admit it yet. Once he has accepted that thought he must wrestle with the possibility that you might not feel the same and you will be added to his list of those he cares for most that have rejected him with scorn.

- Still he lets the lighter thoughts carry him through the toughest of times; what it might be like to hear you offer your own feelings back, how it would feel to see you smile only for him, what kind of life the two of you might be able to build in a simpler times, what he could finally do if you agreed to a wedding night together. He lets himself ruminate on that more often that he'd like to admit, all gentlemanly efforts banished from his mind when he sees you walk around his camp.

- While he builds up the courage to make his feelings known, you might catch him practicing the steps of an intricate dance one night when he thinks everyone is fast asleep.

Gale:

- Gale has known love and loss before, the intensity of his past life making him consider keeping his heart closed off from others forevermore. But the gods have a funny way of keeping Gale on his toes, and introducing him to you certainly did that.

- At first you are just the warmest of friends to him: an ever-willing audience for his lifetime of tales and knowledge, a reliable companion for the throes of battle, a selfless treasure seeker who helps him fend off hunger. But over time he finds himself desperately scanning his mind for more and more facts that it would be worth waking you up to share, more tales to capture your attention, anything the two of you might do together to keep your focus on him and no one else.

- It's about when he wonders if the two of you might just camp in one tent together, that he realises he no longer views you as simply his closest friend. No, you have long passed that threshold into an entirely new realm of love. It feels so different to anything he has felt before, like your company is the warmest summer breeze after decades of stormy lightning in his heart. It feels safe and easy to be with you, like he could be content with almost nothing as long as you were by his side, looking at him with your near endless appreciation. Gale can't be sure exactly what to do about it, but he hopes the next time you draw back the opening on your tent and usher him in for another night of exchanging tales, that you might permit him to never leave.

Shadowheart:

- It's hard to know love when you barely know yourself. That's what Shadowheart tells herself when she finds her mind wandering back to you after your memorable first impression. She has so much to learn about herself, and while she's grateful for the reliable company and kind sounding-board you provide, there's simply no room in her life for anything more.

- And yet the more she uncovers about herself, the more important it seems to have you by her side. It's like she cannot exist in this new fully realised version of herself if she doesn't know you. If she doesn't get to see herself through your eyes, to hear what you think, to have your presence beside her as he continues to take more and more steps forward down this path home.

- Without ever trying you have become the other half of Shadowheart, and by the time she realises it, she knows you must have the same awareness. There could be no way that you aren't as in tune to the depth of your bond as she is, leaving her only one question. Not if to address it. But when.

Karlach:

- Though Karlach may not have a traditional heart anymore, she is more than capable of falling for the travelling companion that seems to bring out the best in her at every step. After years spent working for the devil and his underlings, having someone in her life that strives to make the world better and put her strength to good use is like the first sip of water after countless nights in the arid desert of the hells.

- Karlach knows she's as strong as they come, so she finds her eyes frantically searching you out in battle, pushing herself on and raging forwards to always keep you safe, to get you behind her, to make sure you go on to keep her company another day.

- Her time in this plane of existence may be more limited than some of the other characters, but that only means Karlach knows how important it is to truly 'live.' While the other companions may bide their time and carefully deliberate how best to inform you of their inconvenient feelings, when Karlach knows your heart is true, she's going to let you know she is all yours at the earliest, and steamiest, opportunity.

[comicaurora]

hi red!! just listened to the newest episode of the ospod and i have one question: did you and magenta enjoy sonic three??

TREMENDOUSLY

(spoilers below)

Maria playing a soft acoustic cover of Live And Learn on the guitar was Incredible

We both lost it when Sonic looked directly at the camera and quoted "talk about a low-budget flight!" word for word

Almost every Sonic vs Shadow scene in the trailer was from the very first action scene in the movie, which was absolutely the way to do it. They didn't spoil anything important AND they didn't drag out the opener.

That first action scene was KILLER. They hit every single beat they needed to establish exactly who Shadow was.

The pacing overall was fantastic. When Blue and I watched sonic 1 and 2, we concluded that sonic 2 had More Fun Stuff, but sonic 1 was far more tightly paced. I think sonic 3 got back to the pacing of sonic 1 - not an ounce of fat on there.

CHAO GARDEN TOURIST TRAP

Magenta called the movie cowards for not letting the GUN soldier actually shoot Maria

Extremely elegant way to take Tom and the ancillary humans out of commission and motivate Sonic to have his obligatory "I must go alone and Take Vengeance" darkest hour, BUT I really respected how they let Knuckles choose to back off and trust him, even if narratively we know Sonic is making the wrong choice. My boy Knux got a shockingly good showing this movie, considering all he really had to do was get worf'd to prove how badass Shadow is. They do some careful work making sure he still feels like a powerhouse even though he's outclassed by both super hedgehogs.

Making Shadow's motivation in this movie raw, fresh, suicidal grief was absolutely the right call, because that makes this whole Destroy The Earth thing the equivalent of an extremely understandable but short-lived temper tantrum caused by "from my POV my best friend died in my arms like YESTERDAY" and that means it feels like he could conceivably be talked out of with a little empathy and compassion, which is exactly what Sonic gives him, after the COOLEST FUCKING FIGHT SCENE I'VE EVER SEEN

This Sonic is cleanly growing from a good-hearted kid into exactly the kind of relentlessly compassionate paragon hero they're portraying him as in the IDW comics and it is Rad As Hell

And on the flip side, making Gerald's villain motivation slow and calculated and locked in over the course of fifty deliberate years was a very clever way to convince us that Shadow just needed kindness and a good example, but Gerald had made his choice and could absolutely not be redeemed.

"You're no Maria" is cold as ice and I'm still thinking about it days later

everyone's acting like Robotnik's dead but my man was wearing a nanotech suit that could turn into anything like if they want him back he'll be back

excited for Shadow to just Turn Up at some point in the future during a risky fight scene and for literally only Sonic to be happy to see him, As Their Dynamic Should Be

Magenta really likes Metal Sonic as a character so hopefully he's not just relegated to Interchangeable Army Of Minions status forever

A M Y

I predict that in Sonic 4 we will get Silver as the main first-half-of-the-movie misled villain and Shadow WILL reintroduce himself into the plot by kicking Silver in the back of the head and I WILL lose my mind

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Burn

Yandere!Husband x gn!Reader

warnings: abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, manipulative tendencies, gaslighting, murder, gore

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It burns, so agonizingly much, that uncertainty about this whole ordeal crept up your spine and settled in your chest.

Was this the right thing to do? To flee? It echoed in the emptiness that took over your head. It was perplexing and uncomfortable. You shouldn't feel empathy for him. He was crazy, deranged! Gone, a maniac, a bastard—

But maybe he was innocent and you were running away from the ghosts hunting you.

He was all that was left of your family. You didn't want to do this, you wanted him with you, loving and sweet, but it seemed that fate had different plans for the two of you. It seems that fate didn't favour you.

He had wormed himself into your life—then into your sacred family bonds, destroying what was already fragile. The mask he wore was that of a kindred spirit that sought for love, yet you never knew better than to believe the artificially crafted facade.

Prior he was an orphan, abandoned by his mother at six, which admittedly tugged at your heartstrings, even more so after learning the horrible foster parents, which was followed by the straight up ignorant adoptive family that took him in only for prestige matters.

So it wasn't that you didn't understand his desire for family, and you were even happy for him! Glad he found love in yours, yet all your hopeful dreams of finally peace settling in had vanished the moment the first of your relatives cut you off. Then a second followed, a third, a fourth until even your mom shunned you, refusing to see you any longer. They absolutely adored your husband but hated your guts.

However he didn't seem to hold the same adoration for them, no, he didn't even possess an ounce of sympathy with them as he watched them turn to ashes Infront of his very own eyes, laughing, like the maniac he was.

“Love!” he would jump up and down you remembered, seemingly over the moon by your dad praising him or your sister gifting him something meaningless as a cookie.

After he had burned down everything holy to you, he had just slipped back into your shared bed, stinking horribly of that kind of smell that reached your nose every time you left your omelette too long on the stove.

You hadn't understood then, but you did now, that that smell was foreshadowing to the petrifying news that had reached you the next day.

Everything spiralled out of your control after that day. You were completely scattered, forgetful, permanently teary-eyed, clumsy and visibly distraught.

So it started with your inability to hold up your job, which made him offer you to stay at home, while he financed you both. He was so devilishly sweet, messaging your shoulders when you were completely stiff, guiding you through breakdowns, cooking for you, feeding you. You hadn't know how you got so lucky with him.

However things became odd quickly, your friends seemed to disappear one by one, their numbers blocked, deleted or erased from existence. You were unbelievably mad, was this because of your new miserable state—the friends that swore to go through thick and thin with you, leaving you in your most vulnerable times—how could they!

Although you were burning with anger, even that was quickly forgotten thanks to him. He was your absolute everything, your entire world and you were much obviously his. You two were a match made in heaven—or at least that's what you believed until that one phone call.

“Stacey?—”

“You have to get out of there! He isn't what he seems to be— your husband, he’s crazy! He threatened me! If I didn't stop being in contact with you then he would have also murdered me like he did with your family—” your heard your friend over the phone, voice unusually frail, breaths laboured with sniffling in the background.

Your heart leaped in your chest at the sound of her frantic claims, completely unbelievable and baffling, even if your trust for her had completely evaporated, uncertainty still poisoned you and infiltrated your mind like a sickness.

Nevertheless you did end the call before she could spew anymore nonsense, sealing her terrible fate, because unbeknownst to you, that was the last time she would ever talk to anyone.

Things didn't feel normal anymore after that, suspiciousness spread through you, gnawing at your already highly sensitive nerves, you instability just making you waver back and forth from completely denying the unapparent truth and panicking that perhaps it was true. She was your friend for years after all, what reason did she have to lie?

That was until you found Stacey’s childhood diary in his possession with dried splatter of blood decorating it—as if this wasn't terrifying enough what met you on the inside made you drop the book, completely mortified and stunned into silence.

Every entry that contained your name scribbled over with hearts, anything that had to do with you underlined, things that you liked circled in like a madman.

You were terrified to say the least—she was right, she was right and you didn't believe her.

Tears welled up in your eyes and before you knew it, your feet carried you out of your shared home, still in your PJ's with slippers adorning your feet.

Which leads to this moment in the present.

Unfortunately for you, he had knowingly bought a house with your inheritance, in the middle of nowhere. You were stumbling over twigs, leaves crushing beneath your weight and before you knew it, you were running.

Yet you did forget one crucial aspect—running didn't help when he could track you down with the GPS clipped under your skin so subtly you didn't even realise he had done so.

Bang.

Pain shot through your thigh, an excruciating amount, making you instantly stumble, before tumbling down, face first into the wet earth, crying out in pain.

Blood seeped out from where he shot you, painting the forest floor a warning crimson. You tried to crawl, you attempted to flee, but all was for nothing, no one and nothing could have tear you two apart, even if it was you.

Fingers roughly whipped your head back, scalp burning from the abuse.

“There you are, love.” he spat out, the familiar warmth gone replaced by an indefinite disdain.

“You saw it, huh? You learned about everything I did for you and that's how you thank me? By running away just cuz’ I committed some petty crimes?” he shook your head violently, before shoving your face into the mud. Before he ripped your head out of the earth, starting to fall into a pattern, repeating it over and over again till your vision faded with only his words ringing into your ears, as blood ran down your presumably broken nose, eyes swelling with unshed tears of a gruesome future that awaited you.

“You're weak. And dumb. But don't you worry, I will take care of you. I will love you, look after you, clean up each mess you make, be there to rock you back and forth when you have one of your meltdowns again. So don't worry your stupid little head about anything,

just trust me, love.”

[sunnie-angel]

Part 4: The Plan

part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: one step back, one step forward in this dance with jason’s warring desires for intimacy and distance

tags: swearing, UST, light angst

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.7k

a/n: i’ve never experienced an american thanksgiving so all of my knowledge of it comes from pop culture. this is basically the last of my ‘set up’ chapters, so plot + relationship development is going to really hit their strides starting from here.

Jason is learning to live with the thousand pangs of guilt that go hand in hand with his determination to be your friend and only your friend. Guilt churns his stomach so often that it fades to just another background distraction. Every time you stiffen up when he pulls back, every time you try to catch your face before the disappointment can shine through, he sees it all. He should keep his distance, stop reeling you in close before drawing back unexpectedly, but he can’t quite manage it.

A more recent encounter is still seared into his brain. It plays behind his eyelids as he swims laps around the pool with Rei.

The two of you had been heading to the dinner two blocks off of campus after Duvall’s class, the fiery light of the sunset colouring the worn paths across the quad. Class had been predictably… painful. Reading it for his own purposes or for a group of students to discuss, Frankenstein has always struck a raw nerve. I am thy creature and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, which thou owest me. Seen and made raw by a woman and her monster years in the past, and isn’t that just the rub? The world spins, new generations live and die and live again to be just as disappointing to the men that created them. Jason’s heart had ached behind his sternum and even the usual balm of your chatter had taunted him with everything he denies himself. He’d made all the right noises, kept his head down and hands jammed into his pockets as the two of you had finally made it to the diner.

“God I almost lost it when what’s-his-name in business started talking.” You’d snorted as you’d opened up your menu, plastic pages clinging together. “Like is it really so hard to have an ounce of empathy? We should start a list of worst takes because that had to be a top five. Jay?” Jason must not have been playing his part well enough because now you’re looking at him, too silent, too caught up on the long stale nickname. “What are you thinking Jay, because I’m thinking pancakes for dinner.” All he could think of is the one and only Dick took him out for pancakes. Begrudgingly. And how it had ended with Dick storming out, suddenly excited about hanging out with the Titans, only to come back disappointed when he had realized he was Jason’s only ride.

“Don’t.” It had come out low and mean, lobbed through gritted teeth like something hot and vicious. Jason had watched it hit you, the way you’d leaned back from the table and hunched your shoulders closer. “Just don’t call me that, yeah?” It had taken concentrated effort on his part to breathe, mimic loosening the tension in his body, to look smaller and non-threatening.

“Oh. Okay, Jason.” Silence had stretched out between the two of you, an almost tangible distance. The words to explain, to apologize and smooth things over had stuck in his throat. The fading light had caught your face for a moment, your face crumpling in hurt before shuttering closed. Your blank face was burned into his mind’s eye just as clearly as all the ways he had not repaired things between you.

Jason surfaces, water sluicing off of his shoulders, before going back under for another stroke. His body takes over the pattern of striking and breathing while his mind returns to the diner. There’s a small animal part at the back of his mind that’s wary of the water. Keeps a small part of him on the look out for any tinges of green to the liquid in the irrational fear that he might also come out of this body of water changed. Actually taking Rei up on his offer to go swimming was in some ways a punishment for Jason, adrenaline thrumming through his veins until his muscles flagged from exhaustion.

Rei is waiting for him at the entrance to the gym, water bottle half empty and lid still unscrewed. His glasses keep sliding down his still damp face but he grins at Jason anyway.

“You sure you’re not looking for a spot on the swim team? Because I’m sure the team captain would get the coaches to make an exception for you.”

Re-shouldering his duffel, Jason asks, “Now why would he do that?”

“I’d do it because I want one last trophy for the relay team.” Rei says wryly.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, I don’t really advertise it because I’ve been doing it for so long that I keep forgetting new people don’t already know I swim. But if you want a spot you’re in. You lapped me like what, four times?”

“Five,” Jason says sheepishly. “Not much of a team player, so I’m gonna have to turn you down.”

“Fair enough,” Rei shrugs. “But I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You probably dodged a bullet though, the coaches are hard asses about not drinking before meets.”

“Yeah, speakin’ of drinkin’, what the hell was in those drinks you made the first night.”

Rei laughs and the conversation takes a more lighthearted turn as they head across campus to the student union. It doesn’t take much to keep the conversation going so Jason has time to turn over Rei’s invitation over in his head. Jason would never have been able to accept — spackling over his extensive scarring for even just today had been a pain — but it had given him hope that maybe even after all his mishaps with you, that he might still be achieving ‘normal’.

Wednesday comes by and Jason makes up his mind to show up the weekly study session. With the Thanksgiving weekend coming up he’s got less work than ever but an even stronger desire not to be alone. Campus has emptied out in anticipation of the long weekend, the student union almost echoingly empty. Lina and Rei are already taking up a bench, sickeningly affectionate and dodging the balled up paper scraps Danika is tossing at them. You sit next to her, rolling your eyes at her antics then egging her on whenever Lina swoops in to leave another lipstick stain on Rei’s cheeks. He hesitates before committing to the seat at the end of the table nearest to you. The fresh loukoumades burning a hole in his bag will have to be shield and apology enough.

He’s nearly there, three feet out from his target, when the sound of a chair getting angrily out of the way diverts his attention. Will is dragging his bike through the field of chairs, cursing up a storm that has even Jason with all of his years in Gotham taken aback. Quite possibly its the most words Jason’s heard Will say out loud in the scarce months he’s known the man. The incongruity of the scene with who Will generally is as a person sends most of table into nervous half laughter.

“Will? Will what’s wrong? The biking parking finally full or something?” You ask, disbelieving.

“What the fuck does it look like?” He snarls, before throwing the bike to the ground in frustration.

“Hey—“

“Will, what happened?” Lina cuts Jason off, uncurling herself from around Rei and leaning forward. Her eyes are wide and searching, and in Jason’s opinion, not suspicious enough for the uncharacteristic rage on Will’s face.

“Some motherfucking cock sucking moron nearly ran me off the sidewalk in their piece of shit gas guzzler. That’s what happened.” He goes to throw himself into the seat next to you but Jason beats him to it, larger frame boxing him out. Throwing Jason an annoyed glance, Will slouches into the only seat left. He brandishes his coat clad arm in front of Lina and Rei, still thrumming with pent up energy.

“Look what they did!” He exclaims.

“I don’t think any of the bandaids in my bag are big enough for that scrape.” Rei says regretfully.

“What— never mind the scrape, look what they did to my coat!” He pulls the fabric tight across his wrist, shoving it under their noses. Rei and Lina give each other confused looks over Will’s head.

“There’s a lose thread?” Questions Danika.

“Yes! Thank you, yes! That idiotic jackass made me scrape up my Loro Piana jacket, do you know how much this costs?!”

“So,” Danika interjects, “won’t your family just buy you a new one and write this off for taxes or something?”

“That’s not— okay that piece of shit not only destroyed my jacket and put my life at risk but he’s also polluting with his mid-life crisis pollutant puker. You know there’s a reason Gotham ranks worst in pollution for cities in New Jersey? It’s thanks to people like that who don’t care that their cars are leaking oil and going knocking people — who are just trying to be nice to the environment — off of their bikes when they were just minding their own—“

“Report it to the police or campus security then.” Jason interrupts, before Will can get into the rant he’s building up steam for. “You got close enough to see the oil leaking, you probably saw the license plate too.” Jason pulls the loukoumades out of his bag and slides them over to you, keeping eye contact with Will the whole while. Will breaks eye contact first, pulling his perfectly intact black wool coat tighter around him before shoving his hands deep in the pockets. You’ve cracked open the container and let out a hum of delight. Will’s eyes dart to the table.

“Didn’t get it. How was I supposed to know that one minute I’d be riding along, and then the next I’d be traumatized for life by some inconsiderate brute?” He sulks. And oh, yeah, not everyone had grown up with B and all of his lessons on paying attention to your environment for evidence.

“Yeah, speaking of trauma, who’s got plans for thanksgiving yet?” Danika asks, mirth and humour her weapon against the atmosphere.

A sharp elbow knocks once into Jason’s ribs. He turns to look down at you, hoping your bid for attention won’t turn out to be disappointing. You meet his gaze with cheeks stuffed full of fried dough and honeyed syrup, eyes narrowed and considering.

“They’re not pancakes, but I thought you’d like ‘em anyway.” Jason says.

You swallow, before beginning to speak in a low voice, letting the flow of conversation continue around the two of you undisturbed. “If this is an apology, there better be more from where that came from.” Your small lopsided smile is sincere, but it doesn’t quite erase the image of your blank face from the dinner from his memory. Nodding, he goes to pull out the second Tupperware container that he’d had the foresight to prepare and you begin to lick the leftover syrup from your fingers. Jason’s vision narrows down to your thumb and forefinger, glistening in the fluorescent lights. He could swear his heart skips a beat when your pink tongue flicks out, his breathing certifiably irregular when you start to suck on your fingers. The image of your lips shiny from syrup will probably be engraved on his second headstone as the cause of death.

“—son, Jason.” Danika’s voice, high pitched and insistent, breaks the moment. He’d be embarrassed at tuning out his situational awareness if he wasn’t also scrambling to answer her half-heard question.

“No plans for me. My family and I aren’t really in a ‘gatherings and gratitude’ place right now.”

“Whoops, we’ll add your family to the off-limits list. What do you usually do then?”

Your phone starts buzzing, and you swear under your breath as you navigate sticky fingers and tight jean pockets.

“I just make a fancier meal than normal, watch the parade on the tv. Not much to it.” He replies off-handedly. He doesn’t mention the extra patrols he’ll do, in anticipation of one of the Rogues deciding to make a splash across holiday headlines.

“Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.” And already you’re trying to climb over Jason to get out from the booth and away from the table. It brings your face closer to his than it’s ever been and Jason would be trying to pin a name to the exact shade of your eyes if it wasn’t for the worry on your face. The nearly empty building means that you don’t wander far from the group. You pace as you listen to whoever is on the phone and play with the charm on your necklace. Will catches on to Jason’s line of sight and rolls his eyes, still sulking in his chair.

“So there’s a whole list, yeah? Things you don’t talk about?” Jason asks, trying to distract himself.

“Oh I wouldn’t call it anything so official.” Lina dismisses.

“No but we totally should!” Fires back Danika. “It would make things sooo much less awkward if Jason knew not to bring up just how much money Will’s rolling in, or the fact that Rei hates talking about the team right before a swim meet, or that when she,” and here Danika lowers her voice and nods in your direction, “plays with her necklace on a phone call fifty bucks says it’s someone from her family.”

“Got it, no askin’ her about the secret phone calls.” Jason says with a tight smile.

“Oh it’s nothing super secret.” Danika leans back into the corner and waves a lazy hand. “Just that most of them were dead set against her doing English instead of some ‘useful degree’ like pre-med or engineering. Don’t know why though, I don’t think’ I’ve ever met anyone that hates calculus more.”

But Jason, Jason thinks he does know why. Puts together the little pieces of your past you’d entrusted to his scarred hands and looks to the shared weft of your past. Looks at a girl whose family had scraped and fought to make a life untouched by poverty in a city that doesn’t easily forgive, and knows that it took luck and bone wearying effort to make it out of the Alley’s clutches. He looks at the girl who is used to being told her opinions don’t matter and yet believing in them anyway, who has put together a path leading right to her dreams even if the detours take her back to the place her family was happy to leave behind. Jason looks around the table at these fresh faced kids in their $6000 jackets and knows that none of them understand the constant, cavernous fear that all of the little luxuries they take for granted will suddenly disappear like morning fog. Jason knows the kind of courage it takes to push past that dogged fear and refuse the path your family pushes you down in order to achieve loftier goals.

The conversation has moved past him now, wrapped in his reverie. Rei and Danika have devolved into the kind of hardline negotiation Jason would have expected to see between seasoned lawyers rather than undergrads.

“C’mon Danika, I know you want a Pinterest worthy friends-giving but it’s just not going to work out this year.” Rei chides. “There’s just no time that’s gonna work for all of us.”

“Yes but it’s our last year when we’re all for sure going to be in the same place for the holiday weekend!”

“Look, we should all be free the Friday after the long weekend. We’ll do another night out, me and Lina will host the pre, and it’ll be our version of friends-giving. I’ll even make turkey themed cocktails if you want.”

“Gross! Fine, fine.” Danika most definitely does not whine. “But make them pumpkin pie themed cocktails instead.”

Jason’s got half an ear on the conversation, but continues to study you as long as his input isn’t needed. You sigh and seem to deflate as your call ends.

“So boys, are you ready to see the damage Rei can do when he’s got his full bar cart with him?” Lina asks, coy as anything. “I’m sure he’ll be able to make something that will even get you dancing, Jason.”

You shuffle around Jason, trying to squirm back into your bench seat. For a brief moment, your thighs bracket his.

“If that’s the plan,” Jason breathes out shakily.

Part 5

[the-hinky-panda]

Boss Mare: Part VI

Catch up on the Boss Mare Series here.

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Jamie falls in love with you the day you decide you want to learn how to ride a horse. 

You tell him one evening on the back steps of the porch, over a bowl of chicken and corn soup, about the herd of donkeys your family had. How you and your sisters would help each other up onto their backs and sit there. If you were lucky, another sister would encourage it to walk along a game trail in the woods by holding a carrot or apple in front of it. Once the donkey got its treat, you all had to walk back home because without motivation, the animal refused to move. How much harder could riding a horse be?

It’s an easy day workwise; Sundays usually are. There’s no day of rest on a ranch but there are more restful days than others. The fence lines in the closest pastures need to be checked. The ride is relatively flat, the route will only take an hour at tops, and major repairs won’t be done until tomorrow. It turns into a family ride of sorts. Tate wants to “cowboy” with Kayce and John. Rip goes to take notes and make flags on sections that need to be repaired tomorrow. Jamie goes because he’d rather be on the back of a horse than in front of a computer. It’s a good opportunity to get Robin, an older mare, out of her stall and give you your chance to ride. 

That was the plan at least. Robin had other ideas. Four days in a stall has given the otherwise sedate mare some extra pep. Never having sat on the back of a horse before, you perceive the sideways bouncing trot as normal despite no one else’s horse doing that. But that is part of your charm, enjoying a new experience without an ounce of fear in it. And as he watches his father reach over and grab your reins, showing you how to manage the energetic horse, the realization of why hits Jamie right between the eyes. 

You trust them. All of them. 

There’s been enough conversation between the two of you for him to gather enough pieces of your background. You came from a very tight knit, off-grid community somewhere up near the Canadian border. He had looked into the law enforcement side and found there were a couple militias and a religious cult that would fit some of the descriptions you’ve given him of your previous life. You lacked the edge of a militia, showing far too much empathy for the horses and the wranglers, so that left the cult. A cult would also explain how you adapted so quickly to the ranch hierarchy. It’s why you so easily accept the authority of his father and Rip, follow the expectations without questioning why. He’s been keeping notes, compiling evidence towards the cult theory, and it’s left him wanting to investigate more into the group. You ran for a reason and he hasn’t asked you about it just yet. Given your easy going nature, it must be something horrific. 

“Son of a bitch-” 

Jamie looks up to see Robin has interpreted John’s dismounting of his own horse as a personal act of war and bolted along the fence line. Rip and Kayce race off after you and the horse, while John grabs Tate’s reins to keep his horse from following. Jamie moves up closer in case Tate’s horse decides to take off too but the old mare just doesn’t have it in her anymore. John comes to the same conclusion and pulls himself back up into the saddle of his own horse. 

“So much for switching horses with her.” 

Jamie’s watching you closely, expecting you to bail off at any given point and he prays you jump off away from the fence. But you don’t. You’re stuck to the saddle and showing no signs of listing off one side or the other. He wonders if you superglued your ass to the saddle. John chuckles. 

“She’s going to ride the hair off that horse.” 

Jamie laughs too. “Looks that way.” 

“See, grandson,” John points to Rip and Kayce. “When a horse runs off with someone, you don’t chase them. You bank out to the sides and then cut across to stop them. If a horse senses there’s another horse behind them running, it becomes a race. And then you got two horses running away.” 

Tate nods sagely. “That’s why we’re waiting back here. Less horses running.” 

“That’s right. Less horses running.” 

The dust is starting to settle and Robin has slowed her run down to a bouncy trot. Rip has reached you and has a hold of the reins while you’re patting the mare’s neck. He can hear your laugh all the way back to where he’s still sitting. Kayce starts cantering back to them while Rip and you follow at a slower pace. 

John glances over at Jamie before tapping Tate on the shoulder. “Tell you what, grandson, go on up there and meet your dad. Just walk now. I want to talk to your Uncle Jamie for a minute.” 

“Okay.” Tate gives his horse a quick tap and off he moves towards Kayce. 

Jamie shifts in his own saddle, feeling like he’s about to be scolded for something, what that is, he has no idea. 

“You and Lara have been spending a lot of dinners out on the back porch.” 

Jamie gives his father a side eye. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

“Have you learned anything about her?” 

“Not a whole lot. Lara’s not her real name, just one that she chose. I think she’s from a cult somewhere up near the Canadian border. I’ve asked some law enforcement contacts to look into the group a little more.” Jamie’s quiet for a moment, watching you ride back towards them. You’re smiling so brightly, cheeks flushed, and hair wild. It’s the most free you’ve ever looked and it causes something to twist in his chest but in the most pleasant way possible. “I know she’s happy here.” 

John hums. “And so are you.” 

“I’ve always been happy here.” He bites his tongue so he doesn’t finish the rest of the sentence. I never wanted to leave. 

“I like her,” John says at length. “She’s honest, hard working, and actually pleasant to be around. Bar isn’t set too high on that last one though.” 

Jamie actually laughs. “That is true.” 

“That being said, she doesn’t strike me as someone who leaves a place where she’s happy and safe. A place where she’s made a connection with someone. These people she ran from are going to come looking for her.” 

“Yeah, I thought of that. I figure the more we know, the better we can protect her.” 

“You’re going to have to protect her, son. I doubt they’ll come after us physically. If they really are a religious cult, they’re about fighting on the mental battlefield. They won’t use violence to get her back. They’ll do it on paper, legally, intellectually. You’re going to be her first line of defense.” 

Jamie nods solemnly. “I agree.” 

“She also needs to know that we all want her here, that we all will fight for her to stay here if that’s what she wants. So tonight, I want both of you at the dinner table.” 

“Dad,” Jamie shakes his head. “Beth is going to-” 

“Son, Beth hasn’t come to dinner for the entire week. You would have known that if you were at the table and not the back porch. And she won’t be there tonight.” John chuckles. “We’ll break Lara in slowly.” 

Jamie watches as you’re almost back to where he and his father are still waiting on their horses. You look even more wild closer up, so alive, so happy. So breathtakingly beautiful. He realizes it’s not about just protecting you from whoever comes looking. He has to protect you because his life will lose all color if you were to ever leave the Yellowstone. 

[notmorbid]

even as we breathe.

dialogue prompts from even as we breathe: a novel by annette saunooke clapsaddle.

my plan didn't quite work the way i thought it would.

you sure have a way with words.

should i be afraid?

empathy is fossilized in our bones.

if you keep your mouth shut and your ears open, you might just learn a thing or two.

there's rumors about this place, you know.

sometimes i poke fun when i'm on edge.

i want to be respected, not respectable.

just ignore me. heck, everyone else does.

have you ever felt like everybody was staring at you?

your demeanor is distinctly unwelcoming.

humility has its place.

don't do anything to get yourself fired.

nothing scary about nothingness. it's the something you should be afraid of.

you didn't play games going up?

i never feel like people are telling me the whole truth.

everyone has their own take, their own theory.

biblical references aren't exactly my forte.

but how will i know when i'm done?

you don't need to lie to make me feel better.

it's just how i was raised.

tell me about your family.

i'm surprised you don't already know all my business. everybody else sure does.

you speak of the dead so easily.

thought i might have to wake you for dinner.

is this your hiding place?

i'm not scared. i'm mad.

you make odysseus look like a joyrider.

not all love is made of equal parts.

what's wrong with you today?

everything okay back home?

it's not forever. just try to remember that.

just trying to stay out of trouble.

you can't prepare yourself for things like this.

you knew and you didn't tell me.

it's too early in the morning for ghost stories.

you were always my soft place to land.

i need you to see me.

i thought i was protecting you.

i do care about you. you're my best friend.

something about war buddies ties people together forever.

there's always at least an ounce of truth in storytelling.

sometimes i think you've seen more than you've told me.

i can't imagine leaving without you.

you truly can be such a raincloud.

i got used to it. i didn't know anything else.

i don't mean to lay a bunch of heavy stuff on you.

sometimes the answers are not the ones you want to hear.

sometimes you have to decide if you want truth or peace.

i can't believe we're having a conversation about this.

what's happening to me?

i'm not sure i'd be able to teach you, but i can try.

i don't mind listening. listening is easy.

i'm sure you'll find the right home, in the end.

sometimes not knowing your own story is the most damaging thing of all.

i once had to be quiet to survive.

i thought i told you i didn't want to see you again.

you sure can't catch a break, can you?

i never knew how to ask.

you're too mean to let anything keep you down for too long.

nobody deserves to die alone.

you've used me up.

do you think i love ____ more than i love you?

i do love you. i always will. but we have to accept the hands we're dealt.

when i was young, i wanted nothing more than to get as far away from here as i could get.

[ahqkas]

Hiii!!! Can you please write some period comfort for Charles Smith?? My cramps are horrible and I currently have an obsession with him😭

THE NATURE OF COMFORT ; charles smith

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 MASTERLIST!

CHARLES NOTICED THE SUBTLE SIGNS BEFORE YOU EVEN SAID A WORD — the way you moved a bit more slowly, the slight wince you tried to hide. Without needing to be asked, he instinctively knew you were in pain and in instant, he was ready to offer you comfort.

“Come here, love,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with concern. He guided you to a comfortable spot by the fire, making sure you weren’t hurting any more. He then prepared a hot water bottle, knowing the warmth would help ease your cramps, and gently placed it on your abdomen. The women of the camp taught him the little trick.

Charles had a knack for understanding what you needed without you having to announce it. He brewed you a cup of herbal tea, a blend he had learned from his knowledge of natural remedies, designed to soothe and relax. Handing it to you, he sat down beside your form, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Drink this,” he said gently, his eyes full of empathy at your pain. “It’ll help with the pain.”

He stayed close, offering his warmth. His large, calloused hands moved with gentleness as he massaged your lower back, his fingers finding the tight spots and working to ease the tension. His touch was soothing, and he took his time, ensuring you felt every ounce of his care and attention he’d gratefully provide for you.

He’d also take over any tasks that might be too strenuous for you, ensuring you didn’t have to worry about anything. Whether it was taking care of the horses, fetching water, or any other chore, Charles handled it all, giving you the space and time to rest and regain strength.

When he cared, he cared deeply and made sure to show you just how much he did.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[eve-was-framed]

okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

[orchidbreezefc]

edgar woe.begone: low empathy, high masking

THESIS: my reading of edgar woe.begone is that he's a low empathy autistic who has no innate intuition for social cues and has had to teach himself everything about social interaction from scratch, which is an interpretation that i think explains a lot about him.

now, i am very critical of edgar as a person. i think he's a less than good person and a bad boyfriend. but let me be VERY clear right off the bat: these symptoms don't make anyone a bad person. these symptoms aren't even bad per se. theyre all disabling symptoms that make social interaction more difficult for the person who has them. like any symptom, they have to be managed and compensated for.

some people under the neurodivergent/mentally ill umbrella, as with any group of people, are bad people. being a bad person flavors one's approach to their mental illness, and mental illness in turn flavors the manner in which they're a bad person. the mental illness isn't what makes you bad, but it does affect how your shittiness manifests.

disclaimers done, a good place to start is the way edgar speaks, especially with jeremy's performance. edgar always sounds very reasonable, approachable, and agreeable, and there is never an ounce of genuine emotion in his voice. he talks like an autistic person with zero innate intuition for social interaction who has taught himself to speak in the way that he's learned will get the best response.

edgar's customer service voice is the only one we hear and likely the only one he uses if he can help it. we know edgar's a tactician, a persuader. why use any other voice than the one he's carefully fine-tuned to make people like him and be receptive to what he's saying? this isn't even necessarily cynical: what do you want him to do, talk in a more uncontrolled, emotional way--that he's not used to managing--that will make people like him less?? what good would that do?

edgar likes control. he's more comfortable when things are in his hands, and only his. propagation definitely factors in here--if [link: my theory] that propagation is what solidified the certainty of edgar's death is true, it's no wonder he wants to control and limit the spread of information. edgar prefers to be in charge of making the plans, ideally alone.

this is part of why mike is perpetually out of the loop, even regarding decisions that concern him--which is pretty damn paternalistic. but there's a more wholesome aspect as well: edgar genuinely thinks he's doing mike a favor.

edgar knows mike has undergone and is undergoing a lot, and that he's terrible with plans and a major blabbermouth. if edgar can take care of a problem without mike having to worry his pretty head and perfect eyebrows about what to do, without knowing it ever existed, isn't that so much better? that's edgar being a good boyfriend, actually. he's helping!

it probably doesn't even occur to edgar how much this limits mike's agency, how much it hurts mike that edgar refuses to let him in, how this puts them on unequal footing, how fucking patronizing it is to not let your boyfriend make his own decisions about his own life. oh, how the tables have tabled since him originally telling mike that keeping the story of woe.begone from him didn't protect him, it impeded his ability to make informed choices.

here's where the low empathy creates problems--edgar doesn't have that innate intuition for how mike's feeling, and he doesn't (effectively) manage or compensate for it, and he definitely doesn't communicate with mike enough to know how he's affected by this shit (avoiding too much information sharing is good, remember?)

and mike certainly isn't going to tell him! mike is a goddamn simp. he's not going to establish boundaries. he's not going to put his foot down and demand better treatment. as if he fucking deserves that in the first place, pshaw. the only time he pushes back is in season 10 when he doesn't remember their relationship, and edgar is deeply shaken.

edgar is devastated to learn he hurt mikey, because he does genuinely adore that man. he would get lasso lessons from michael and rope him the moon if he could. his low empathy and efforts to manage everything himself keep him from realizing that mikey, a hyperempathetic mess who gets sentimental about pens, seriously suffers from being shut out like this.

edgar's thought process must be equally inscrutable to mikey, who just figures it would be asking too much to be an active and equal participant in his own relationship and life. edgar's perfect and great, so if mikey deserved that, he would already be giving it to him. if mikey's unhappy with any part of their relationship, no he isn't. he's lucky he has edgar at all. he's lucky he has anyone.

recall michael's agonized admission that "everything is about rugby, dammit" 10(++++) years and edgar's literal death later. we can only guess at how bad his rugby was, but we do know michael never talked it through with edgar. he tells mike this was him 'letting it go' actually, when the fact that theyre having this conversation at all is proof that he extremely hasn't. this is what 'letting it go' looks like to michael: burying an issue forever and giving up on ever getting closure.

so yes, edgar does authentically deeply love his mikey-bear. unfortunately, if you never establish the communication to bridge the differences between your own methods of operating and that of your partner, love will only get you so far. and the first time around, where it got them was michael fighting back tears in an apartment in latvia over a wound from edgar that he suffered in silence until the day he died.

[themisinformer]

Opinion: If Homosexuality Isn’t Contagious, Then How Come I Get Homosexual Thoughts Whenever I’m Around My Gay Cousin?

Nowadays, we live in an age where the LGBT agenda is being shoved down everyone’s throats. Back when I was a kid, there was no such thing as “bisexual” or “transgender” or whatever, we were all just proud Americans. But now that we gave this LGBT Mafia of sorts a little bit of power, they want to use it so they can brainwash us all into becoming gay ourselves so they can take over the world.

Now, many of you guys may think I’m being extreme when I say this. Many of you have probably already written me off as some crazy “conspiracy theorist.” But my friends, I’m not just talking out of my ass right now. What I’m saying comes from my own personal experience.

My whole life, I’ve been nothing but a full blooded heterosexual man. Not once in my whole life did I have even have an ounce of homosexual tendencies. I was just your average American man who loved Monday Night Football, wings, and beer. That was until my cousin Danny came out as gay a few years ago.

Then, all of a sudden, I began to experience some “complicated” thoughts, so to speak. Danny was cool, funny, charming… He was Denny, and I just couldn’t get enough of him. These thoughts quickly turned sexual, and at that moment I just knew that Danny had had this planned up his sleeve this whole time.

You see, Danny had been infected with the gay, and there he was trying to infect me too. Like I said, as a part of the homosexual plot to take over the whole world. Whenever I try to explain this to people, they always just shut me down. My friends, my therapist, even Danny himself have all tried to assure me that you can’t just “catch” the gay like you might catch a cold.

But if that were the case, then how come I feel sudden urges to go vintage shopping and to discuss Beyoncé’s “Lemonade” only whenever Denny is around? It just goes to show how many people the LGBT Mafia have already brainwashed.

Before Danny came out, I was just a regular, straightforward guy. I used to do manly shit like watch Football and argue with people on Twitter about Donald Trump and Elon Musk. But now I see myself obsessing over pop divas and doing DIY projects. So why, I ask, have these thoughts crept in only after Danny became “openly” gay?

Maybe the LGBT Mafia really does have these powers that us straight folk are only beginning to understand. Ever since Danny became openly gay, I find myself more interested in exploring my “soft side.” Coincidence? I think not. He may say that he just wants to be himself, but every time he offers me a face mask or suggests that we go to the karaoke bar together, I can’t help but feel like I’m being gently lured into his flamboyant way of life.

But hey, maybe I’m just overthinking things. Maybe these feelings truly are harmless. Maybe this is just some friendly empathy that I’m feeling, or maybe Danny’s enthusiasm is inspiring my own self reflection. Or… Maybe not.

And so, I still remain deeply suspicious. So if homosexuality really isn’t contagious, then why, oh why, does every brunch place suddenly sound so appealing to me now? Why do I want to try Kombucha and actually learn how to dance? Danny may say that it’s just me being “open minded,” but open minded or not, I just can’t help but wonder if maybe… Just maybe… This contagion theory is more true than anyone is willing to admit.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Ah, this one hurts, but angst is what I live for!

Okay so bear with me here( ᐛ )☞ The way I imagine things, Ororo is the kind of person who would go into shock/numb when she and the others all learn the kids are dead, when they see what happened to them, there wasn't anything they could've done to save them, but that doesn't mean anything, their kids are gone, and nothing can be done or said that would fix this.

Her actions are just as deliberate and violent as everyone else, but emotionally, she's held down by the crushing weight of her guilt, and when they all find out that reader was hers? It hits her like a sledgehammer, she didn't see it coming at all. How had she been so stupid? reading the notes reader left behind doesn't do her any better, and over all it just makes her more determined to protect the kids they have left, she doesn't want to lose them too, she can't.

GOSH, almost done with all seven, do you have any ideas for Raven?

🐑 Anon

That is how Storm would feel, 🐑 Anon, I agree.

She wasn't a stranger to loss.

She knew what death was. She knew what it was like to love someone and to be torn from them. She might have lost one family in her youth, but she gained another with the X-Men. They were hers, and she was theirs.

It seems fate had decided to take from them again.

Losing them... it was hard.

The numbness that spread from her heart to her mind... the tears that never seemed to dry... The pain that bled her heart and stained their hands... It never ceased.

Finding out that Reader was her own child...

That only sent her emotions further out of control.

When she and the others sought their justice, their revenge, the skies were filled with thunder and snow. The winds howled and the frozen flakes coated everything in sharp, thick layers of ice. Getting rid of the pests who'd taken from them, from her, was swift. Subzero winds and frostbite, freezing soldiers solid. Bolts of lighting striking down those who ran. The wind knocking over all who moved, ice bursting up to impale them...

It was a mere ounce of the pain they all felt. The pain she felt.

What's worse is the ones who took them try to defend their actions, calling it an act of science...

It was no act of science. It was an act of hatred, of greed, of pure corruption and foolishness. They took their life, their blood... It was only fair their's was taken in turn...

By the time it is done, they have all reached a conclusion, one that took them too long to come to. And while she is not happy that it has come to it...

It is the only choice they have left.

She lost a child. Reader was hers. It wasn't known to her or to them. And they would never know. She lost three other children that day as well. Kurt, a sweet, blue child, akin to a soft cloud on a bright day... Kitty, sarcastic and witty and warm, like sunshine... Pietro, quick and clever and Evan's best friend, a cool breeze in the heat of summer... and Reader... her own child... Her Evan's cousin... Her team's friend, sibling, child... A rainbow of love and empathy for them, a promise of warmth and care...

They were gone, all of them...

And they weren't coming back.

She did her best, trying to keep her emotions in check. Some days, she managed, and the weather stayed its course. Other days, she wasn't able able keep it in, and the weather turned harsh, wailing, Nature's own cry against her loss...

In the end, she did what she could to help their remaining kids. Raising them, keeping them safe, helping hone their skills and knowledge, so should anything happen, they would make it... Sometimes she finds herself comforting them, holding them tightly and drying their tears... Other times she is the one comforted, the other adults offering any peace or comfort they can to soothe her...

It is not perfect, what they have.

But it is the best they can do.

As long as no one else suffers what they have... suffers what their kids did... what hers did... Then they've done something right, regardless of what they've done to achieve it.

(For Mystique... she'd be going through it. She has three kids. She lost two. She's a shape-shifter, and Reader was an animal one to boot. She was able to reconnect with her other two children. Yet Kurt was taken, and so was Reader... Reader would never know how similar they truly were... How they were blood, they were mother and child... That two of their friends were their siblings... She'd be having a further breakdown, I think...)

[epickiya722]

I don't have a complete opinion about 423 because one, it ain't really out yet. And also, I'm waiting for the whole story to be finished, you never really know what Horikoshi would do.

With that said...

It's wild to me how switched up this fandom is when it comes to Izuku.

Sometimes, y'all hate it when he shows even an ounce of empathy or sympathy for a villain and now that he states that he won't forgive Tomura, keep that name in mind now, it's a problem?

For one, Izuku is still a child. A lot of his decisions are influenced by the adults around him so all the blame can't fully be placed on him.

Second, why forgive Tomura Shigaraki, let alone save him? Tomura Shigaraki was the monster that All For One forged. Tomura Shigaraki was the creation that the LOV knew. Tomura Shigaraki wasn't Tenko Shimura.

That's who needed saving.

Here's the thing, and this is just me, Tomura put to rest meant All For One being put to rest. Tomura getting this end, if it really is the end for him, seemed fitting to me somewhat because how would it be fair for Tenko if the warped version that All For One groomed got to live on?

I noticed that even after the reveal of knowing Tomura's real name, he wasn't really referred to as such. He wasn't referred to as Tenko Shimura.

Izuku is still a child who could only do so much, but in the end All For One did too much damage. Tenko was long gone the moment he killed his family by accident and even when there were chances to save him, AFO got in the way.

The thing is the fandom hates it when Izuku does too much but also hates it when he does so little. With Tomura, it was never going to be enough.

Tomura was just a monster to AFO's Frankenstein. He was just some false image created by AFO's own benefit. Tomura Shigaraki wasn't the real persona Tenko would have been.

I don't blame Izuku for not saving Tomura or forgiving him. Tomura, again, was monster. He did hurt the people Izuku cares about. He did everything AFO wanted him to do. None of those things was something Tenko Shimura wanted to do.

Tomura Shigaraki, with AFO gone, would have survived, he wouldn't have a place in the world. Again, he was created with a purpose to fulfill what AFO wanted. Even if he got the villains by his side, it still wouldn't mean he would be complete. Let alone meant Tenko got to live how he wanted.

For Izuku, this doesn't mean it's an overall victory for him. He will have to go on with this as a failure. He might feel guilt over this because Tenko is the person who should have gotten the happy life. Even saving Tenko, it would take time for him to find a place because his family is gone and with the villains? They only knew Tomura.

That's all I really have to say about this and I don't care who disagrees. I just feel it wouldn't have been right for a figment AFO created to still be around when he would be so lost. This wouldn't have been a total happy ending.

While there is success, failures are also just as important. Izuku's journey as a hero really only started and this is a failure he's going to have to learn from.

[brothermoth]

the left wing of the ostrich

You know what? This is the fault of young people being so fucking stupid and unable to educate themselves with the vast fucking resources they have available. I don't give a shit how good or bad your formal schooling was. The internet is free and you can learn these skills entirely on your own by simply not being a goddamn reactionary fool.

You're not a fucking anarcho-communist or a Marxist leninist feminist or whatever the fuck y'all are spouting now. You're an uneducated shitheel who thinks calling yourself the most left sounding thing is going to make you better. You've never read Marx or Engles and I doubt half of you even understand the theory you claim to follow.

I'm not blaming this on anyone with a learning disability who has difficulty accessing educational materials by the way. This is about people who make a willful choice to be radicalized online. This is about people who do not have the common sense to pull their head out of their ass.

Gen z (I fucking hate generation labels but it is largely people 18-30 that this problem comes from) is one of the least educated groups of people with some of the lowest reading levels since public education became widely available.

These are people without an ounce of fucking kindness or goodwill in their heart who feel so much apathy toward any one group of people that they are not even willing to do anything but stare like a fucking fool and let shit happen.

Radfems get off your high fucking horses—you had a hand in this. If your feminism isn't based on basic human fucking empathy then you're nothing but a shill doing absolutely fuck all for women or anyone else for that matter. You're a bastardization of feminism and you should be fucking ashamed.

Anti voting cunts? Genuinely I want you to sit and spin. Your fake empathy is pathetic. You don't get to put myself and everyone I care about in front of the bus so you can get on your moral pedestal about being against genocide. Your hands are stained with fucking blood. You're an idiot and your stupidity and your silence is murderous. You had a chance to get off your ass and DO something that fucking mattered for the people in your own community and you basically told us we are not worth it. The man who wanted to shoot protestors will absolutely be beneficial for Gaza. Right.

You're such lukewarm activists that you believed misinformation about Kamala Harris that was so easy to just fucking verify. (No she did not imprison people for weed. She was in fact supportive of lessened sentences and education for prisoners so they can find jobs when they're free. She has done a LOT for people and she was put in a very difficult position where she could not risk losing the large pool of moderate voters.)

Hey "activists"! Do you know how your own fucking government works?

THE VICE PRESIDENT CANT DO SHIT. KAMALA HARRIS HAS LITTLE TO NO SAY ON WHETHER OR NOT WEAPONS GO TO ISRAEL.

Hell, BIDEN doesn't have much sway over that decision. Congress is red and they make the majority of foreign policy decisions you fucking stupid cunts.

Trans Americans will never forgive you. Black Americans will never forgive you. Poor Americans, disabled Americans, Latino Americans, Native Americans, Asian Americans and all the others.

I hope you regret the choices you made. Christ, I hope it fucking haunts you. Trump voters were always going to vote trump without hesitation but you? You had to play leftist and call every marginalized person who pleaded with you a liberal. You're pathetic. If I could spit on you via internet, I would.

Put your fucking head back in the sand. You can stop pretending to care now.

[city-m0rgue]

toxic scientists <3

( keep in mind i refuse to acknowledge “beyond reanimator” )

HERBERT WEST AND DANIEL CAIN

i know their relationship would be toxic. i know that it would be doomed. but that’s exactly what makes it so interesting.

herbert has basically no moral compass. he feels as if if he gets nowhere with these experiments, his work will all have been for nothing. the feeling of caring for dan is foreign to him, and he uses the fact dan cares for him as a way to manipulate him.

dan on the other hand is the type of person who wants to help everyone. he tries to help the woman at the beginning of the movie despite his own exhaustion and knowing it wouldn’t work. he tries to help herbert, whether it was truly because he cared or because he felt obligated. he knew it was likely he’d lose so much because of it.

he tries his hardest to protect meg, and when meg dies he goes to desperate measures ( using the re-agent ) to try to save her. he keeps her in the dark about everything, not wanting her to get hurt or caught in the crossfire.

he grows so attached to both gloria and meg that when the chance presents itself to bring pieces of them back, he takes drastic risks. throughout bride, he still tries to shield francesca from all of this.

despite what herbert does and what he puts everyone dan cares about through, he still cares for herbert. when he and herbert are in the war, he genuinely tries to save their patients, whereas herbert views them as test subjects for the re-agent.

the way dan cares ultimately leads to his demise, and the way herbert uses and manipulates him leads to his own.

herbert is carefully calculated, he's a logical thinker. he's confused when he sees the intimacy with dan and francesca, he doesn't understand the gain from it. there is almost no way to reason with him since he is so set in his goals and opinions. some people say he learned empathy through dan, but all he did is learn how to fake it for his advantage.

every time he does earn an ounce of empathy, he makes himself unlearn it to preserve his mindset and set himself back on his target.

dan is a much more emotional person. his amount of empathy leads him to form connections with almost everybody. he burns himself out with his compassionate nature.

their relationship is so complicated and their dynamic would be practically impossible to achieve in the long term. you're able to see the little moments where dan gives up and burns out due to not being able to protect everyone. it's so complicated and fun to analyze, i love re-animator so much

[dr3amerbuer]

(out of rp but I got to thinking recently about some accidental parallels between Natalia and Nahida. Both were kept locked away to study ever since childhood. Both are segments of someone else in a way, Nahida being a reincarnation of Rukkadevata and Natalia being a clone of Dottore. Both are only valued for their usefulness by the organizations in control of them, the Akademiya for Nahida and the Fatui for Natalia. Both even were forced to aspire to be the person they’re a segment of, Nahida studying to become as smart as Rukkadevata and Natalia learning how to impersonate Dottore to be able to do her job as a segment.

Where they differ is Nahida never had a moment where she peaked like Natalia did. Natalia peaked in childhood and was oh so useful but as she grew older with nothing more to study she wasn’t able to make as much scientific progress, leading to her uselessness. While Nahida was considered a failure from the beginning because she didn’t live up to what Rukkadevata was like and was locked up to study for many years in hope of becoming like Rukkadevata)

// Waittt you're so right

I already kinda love the idea of Nahida showing Natalia an ounce of empathy, because shes Nahida, and Natalia just being like wtf no. And this observation is really fuelling that.

In some far-off alternate universe where they actually manage to get along (or perhaps they somehow find a way to have a pleasant conversation in canon universe, who knows), I totally see them bonding a bit over this.

Anyways. Natalia my beloved. I'm such a fan