#my entire life I have felt Otherness in a myriad of ways but I've never been able to truly nail it down in exactness

[definitionsfading]

potentially this is impostor syndrome at work in some capacity but I have always felt Other in the sense that I could be on the autism spectrum or with some degree of ADHD, but I don't think I definitely have the grounds for either of those diagnoses. so like. how do you reconcile yourself as neurodivergent without either of those specific labels, lol. are high strung and anxious people with hyperfixations, merely just high strung and anxious people with hyperfixations? [me, talking to myself]

[boy-gender]

Hi! You can answer this publicly or privately, but I figured maybe someone else might have a similar question? I just wanted to ask about your personal reasons for using it/its pronouns.

I ask bc I've come across two different characters, now, in media I enjoy, that use it/its pronouns. And I've enjoyed seeing it! They're both two of my favorite characters in their respective media. And i think im kinda questioning whether or not my excitement for these characters (particularly when pronouns are discussed bc they're both great characters outside of that fact) is just bc it's nice to see representation, even beyond they/them pronouns, or if maybe I should consider it/its for myself? I'm not sure, I just thought hearing other people's experiences could potentially help me figure that out. Thank you for your time!

Happy to answer!

First of all, whatever pronouns you want to use is entirely up to you! Nobody gets to tell you what to use and what not to use, or what to try out and change later if you don't like it. If you feel like you want to try a set of pronouns, try it! If it doesn't jive, just change it again. There is no limit to how many pronouns or labels you can use, try, drop, pick up again, or how many times you change it. If it sounds like it/its makes you happy, go for it, even if it just "just" because of characters you like. There's nothing wrong with being influenced by the stories that are important to you.

My reason for using it is mostly trauma-based. All my life I've felt a significant disconnect from my own body, but I didn't realize I had a dissociative disorder until I was like 24. A combination of child abuse causing the disorder, where I never felt like my body was/is me, just that I'm a thing inhabiting the body, possessing it like a spirit- and also lifelong bullying and ostracizing by my peers both contributed to it. There are many times I don't feel like a man or a woman, or a nonbinary person, or any type of person at all. I was dehumanized; I had my humanity stripped from me, including my gender. Fat autistic weird 'girls' aren't treated like girls, intersex tomboys aren't treated like boys, we're treated like monsters. Like kicked dogs. I existed only to be abused by the people around me- my parents and teachers who were supposed to protect me, and the peers who should have been my friends and community. Freaks don't have genders, those are for people. And I was constantly reminded that I did not count as a person.

I very much associate the bullying I endured with my gender nonconformity. I was an afab intersex person- I was a girl of age like 13 with a moustache and beard growing in. I was fat, and my fat never distributed to the 'desired' places for a girl (also, this was like 2008. There was no 'desired place' for fat on girls). Other kids knew or sensed things were different about me- that I was queer in multiple ways, that I had several mental illnesses, that I was fat and ugly and was friends only with other rejects, meaning nobody gave a shit what happened to us. There would be no one to come to our defense no matter how severely we were harmed. We didn't matter.

When I found out I was a system, it put a lot into perspective. The disconnect from the body, from my identity, from my own memories (which are all in third person) made more sense. My other is not human. At first I assumed the "it-ness" was because of this, but actually he doesn't like to be called it at all. It hurts him. It doesn't fit. The it-ness is from me. It's an expression of the gender experience I was denied, a reclamation of the othering I suffered. I don't count as human. I will never be worth being human, or having typical human experiences. I will never be allowed into the club. But it turns out there are other clubs out here- humanity and the cisgender binary are not the only options. I no longer see my othering as "be human or just die," but as "not human? Cool, come try one of these other myriad things." There are so many more things you can be besides human.

This makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Firstly, good. People should be uncomfortable with the cruelty I endured and the marks it left. People should be uncomfortable that they probably participated in othering people as children, and maybe even still do it as adults, and they should be uncomfortable that society is raising their children to continue to do this. It is, in a way, a little bit like my pronouns being fuck/you, or examine/yourselves. Some of it's shock value, and I like that.

Secondly, the shit I get the most is from other trans people, saying I'm somehow harming the trans community because other people call us "its" as an insult. If someone were to call me a she, that is incorrect, and could be used as an insult- they're misgendering me, they're trying to hurt me. This is not the fault of the word "she" and I'm not going to go up to a trans woman and say "this word hurts me, so you cant use it. No more she/her pronouns for you." We are not all going to have the same comfort level with words. I don't like being called a dyke, but dykes do. Some people don't like being called queer, but lots of us do. Some people don't like being called it, but I do. Either way, I get to decide what I am called, and other people get to decide what they are called, and nobody else gets to veto someone's identity. If someone doesn't like calling me it? Then they don't have to talk to me. If they won't respect my pronouns, they're not any better than people who would call me she or her. I don't need their input or validation.

If you do decide to try out it pronouns, I would say be prepared for backlash, but also don't let it effect you. Block people liberally, joyously even. Don't argue. Don't bother. You do not have to justify who you are. And, consider "soft launching" your pronouns! Maybe tell a couple close friends, or just the internet, and if it goes well, expand to other people, and then other people. Roll it out in stages while you get comfortable and try things and assess. You don't owe anyone a coming out; you can decide if, when, how, and to whom you explain yourself, if you ever do it at all.

As an aside, I want to make a distinction here- I'm not otherkin. I don't say I don't count as human because I am some other type of creature just in a human body this reincarnation. This is not a spiritual belief, or even a psych-kin thing. This is purely a product of trauma, something that was foisted upon me that I am now reclaiming, not something innate to my identity. I don't want people to conflate my experience with that of otherkin and be like "see? you're not really [whatever], you're just traumatized!" I hope people will not use my experience to police other people's identities. I am speaking only for myself.

Hope this helps. If you have any more specific questions, feel free to reach out!

[demi-shoggoth]

An Introduction

Hi. My name is Fern.

I have been on this website for literally 10 years, and it's been a lifeline for me, for all of its faults and all of its flaws. And it feels like it's becoming as much fun again as it was in its heyday, and I feel comfortable enough putting myself out there to say that.

I am a nonbinary trans woman, emphasis on the woman. I have described my gender as "85% Woman, 15% Other". I haven't worked out all of the details, but the biggest part of the "Other" is Mischief. I am a lot of things; a science teacher, an author, a nerd, a gamer, a silly girl and a kinky cosmonaut. And all of those things are good, actually.

I am fat. I have always been fat and I will probably never be skinny. And I used to hate that. I used to hate my body and thought that was because it was fat, not because it didn't look like a woman. And I have realized that. I am Fat, and that is actually so sexy and fun of me. And my body is only getting better day by day.

I am also a witch. This is the newest revelation. Like, within the last week new. I was a very logical kid, Mr. Spock and Data were my favorite Star Trek characters, but I didn't understand that Mr. Spock and Data both had emotions and processed them in the ways that were right for them, even if other people didn't get it. I was in denial about magic for a long time. And I don't believe in any literal gods, but I do believe that the vibes that you put out into the world reflect back like ripples in a pond. And that if you put good things into the world, good things will happen. I tried being hyper rationalist and atheist and I realized it wasn't for me. Sorry, Pepper.

I am in Love. This has been a period of development, and that's fine. Because the story of love is a very long one. I am in Love, and I am in Love with two people, and I realize that that's okay now. Polyamory feels like the right fit for me, and trying to be monogamous and attach my entire life to one person wasn't healthy. It wasn't healthy for them and it wasn't healthy for me.

I have had a rough life. In addition to being closeted for the longest time and trans, I had two abusive relationships in my life. One with a professor, one with a girlfriend. And that girlfriend helped me with my trauma with the professor (I am so glad that I didn't leave the US behind and move to Australia, thank goddess). So I felt like I owed her, and I stayed much longer than I should have even as that relationship became more and more rankled and toxic. But breaking up with her was one of the bravest things I've done in my life, and I believe that all of you are capable of that kind of bravery if you try. And on some level, I hope that she's realized that she was being a bad person, and that she's gotten better. But on every level, I never want to find out in person.

I know this was a lot. This is also kind of my way of announcing that I've changed my name on here? I'm now demi-shoggoth, which is a combination of two handles I've been using since I was in middle school. Demiurge and Dr. Shoggoth. Well, I didn't get that doctorate, but I do still create worlds, and I am still a shapeshifter who can take on what forms they need for a job and are scary when they need to be. And I will find my Y'ha-nthlei. Build it myself if I have to. And live in it in Wonder and Glory forever with the people who are my planets and moons, my myriad Tiny Worlds.

If you want to avoid posts like this in the future, block the tag "personal posts". If you like what I'm putting down, I will keep doing so as long as I can.

Mercury Out.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Mother's Wrath

Summary: Meredith has been Called by Throff to complete a little task for Her. Unfortunately Meredith doesn't really know what this task entails exactly. All she knows is that Throff is royally pissed off. Written for the Flash Fiction Friday prompt 'By Candlelight'

Words: 874

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @flashfictionfridayofficial @sparrow-orion-writes-orion-writes,@warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @blind-the-winds, @thesorcerersapprentice,@writeblrcafe, @ashiru, @writeblrcafe

Warnings: None, unless you have issues with Shakespearean language.

Notes: I need to credit my lovely husband for that little bit of Shakespearean prose at the end. This one takes place pretty much immediately before part thirteen of A Circle None Can Break, but is ultimately a part of The Trouble with Meredith series.

Meredith shivered and held up the candle she'd 'borrowed' from the cathedral. The flame guttered slightly, but didn't go out. It wasn't that she needed the light – dwarves could see perfectly well in the dark, after all – but having some illumination calmed the trepidation she felt as she walked along the narrow tunnel that had suddenly appeared in the wall of the cathedral archives. She stopped for a moment and placed her hand on the wall, frowning. The tremors, which had been going on all day, had stopped the moment she'd found the tunnel and hadn't resumed since. Then there was the fact that she had even felt the need to head down into the archives in the first place. She was supposed to be working the Infirmary today.

The young cleric relaxed as she felt the pressure of a hand on her shoulder, despite the fact that she was entirely alone. Well, she was never truly alone given her calling in life, but there weren't any other people physically  in the tunnel with her. 

It's ok. I've got everything else handled. Just keep following the tunnel. You'll know what to do when you get to the other end.

Meredith nodded, gripped the candleholder a little tighter and continued her trek through the impromptu pathway. She could worry about why Kherillim had felt the need to Call her later. All she knew was that the Goddess was pissed, and Meredith was quite happy to oblige Her whims. Especially since Moradin seemed content to sit back and watch too.

The candle guttered again, a breeze indicating an opening up not too far ahead. Meredith paused for a moment, then blew the little flame out, plunging the tunnel into a darkness that, nevertheless, felt safe and secure. Feeling much more confident, Meredith strode out to carry out the Will of the only authority that truly mattered in Fangthane. 

Meredith crept out of the tunnel, only to find herself in a large and spacious cavern with myriad shelves laden with items. Many were beautifully wrought out of various precious metals and gems, though many others were artfully crafted from stone. Meredith frowned, did some quick mental calculations, and frowned. She pulled her Holy Symbol out from under her vestments,

“I get ye’re a wee bit miffed right now, but the Royal Vaults? Seriously?” she hissed at the small, innocuous, metal hammer in her hands. She swore she could feel her goddess shrug.

This is the only way to get yer King to sit up and pay attention. Unless ye’d rather I ordered Fangthane to go fer another walkabout? 

Meredith huffed out a mildly irritated sigh, shook her head and looked around the cavern, trying to discern what it was that Throff wanted her to take. Her gaze finally landed on a large, stone tablet that had been tucked behind one of the shelves nearby. Realising that it was too big to carry in one arm, Meredith groaned, walked over, placed the candle holder on the lowest shelf and hefted the tablet out of its hiding place. She stared at it, unable to make sense of the strange runes carved into it. They were almost familiar, all too similar to the runes of ancient dwarven, but still so very alien to her. The floor under her feet began trembling again,

“Alright, I’m going.” she grumbled, hefting the tablet into a more secure grip and waddling back to the tunnel entrance. 

The moment the young woman stepped back into the tunnel, the sound of a horn blared through the cavern, making Meredith almost drop her prize. The cleric glared up at the ceiling of the tunnel. Of course the vault was alarmed. Almost immediately after, the floor of the vault lurched violently as another tremor rocked the mountain. Meredith stared at the sight, briefly wondering why the floor of the tunnel was so stable, until she recalled what was going on and started to run as fast as she could back the way she came. The young dwarf wondered how this was going to make Throff’s point for her, but who was she to defy the will of the creator goddess at this point?

As the floor settled, the main door of the vault flew open and the Kingsguard searched the cavern for whomever had managed to get inside. All they found to mark any sort of intrusion into the area was a lit candle, burning cheerily on a shelf where some of the items from the forgotten God Vault the Heroes of Toreguarde had found had been placed. The heretical stone tablet from that vault was missing. However, there was a message, written in the most ancient dialect of dwarven known to the people of Fangthane, moulded into the otherwise bare wall nearby. It read: 

Tell thy liege:

Thou hath disgraced thyself verily.

You may have your prize

Only when thou hast debased thyself without reproach

And not a moment sooner

Now get thee gone

Thou art a disgrace

And I will have none of thee.

Captain Bloodvein stared at the message, heaved a sigh, and tromped off to the residential area of the palace. He was not looking forward to his king’s reaction when he saw this.

[rahleeyah]

i finally watched the latest episode of ted lasso and im all sorts of emotional mess right now. i’m so glad there was never a second where rupert being humanized entitled him to rebecca’s forgiveness. i can’t believe they managed to redeem nate in my eyes. healing generational trauma. and keeley and roy and keely and barbara… ugh such a good episode.

Ted is honestly such a good, well made, thoughtful, intentional show, and I have enjoyed it so much. I remain consistently baffled by the myriad "This show is bad, actually" takes I've seen recently, as most of them appear to fall into two categories: 1) written by people who believe sincere is the worst thing a person can be or 2) written by people who are mad they aren't getting a show that caters only to their personal whims. "Ted has lost his way!" proclaims local shit-stirrer, who seems to have been under the impression they were watching a straight up comedy, which Ted has never been, or tried to be. "The characters are unrecognizable!" proclaims local internet denizen who appears to believe that "character development" means "the two characters I like best kissing on my screen".

I have read my share of baffling oped pieces for other shows - like the recent "article" my phone pushed to me that was simply a "self-proclaimed cinephile" (always a bad sign) complaining about how Olivia is power hungry and evil which. Just say you think the only valid woman is a tradwife and move on - but the glee with which people are loudly and proudly proclaiming unfounded and ignorant-of-storytelling-structure takes about Ted is the most "I'm being Punk'd, right?" I've felt about fandom discourse in a while, and that's saying something.

In S3 "boxes" Trent gives us the thesis statement of the entire damn thing when he comes to Ted, beside himself with excitement at having "figured it out". I actually went and looked up the transcript for this (Ted's responses removed for clarity):

"You haven't switched tactics in a week. You've done this over three seasons. By slowly but surely building a club-wide culture of trust and support through thousands of imperceptible moments, all leading to their inevitable conclusion. Total Football. It's gonna work. Doesn't even matter what number four is."

Trent has just essentially broken the 4th wall and told us what the show is doing.

The show hasn't done anything randomly, and it has never, for a moment, abandoned its mission. It's been on mission, the whole time. And that mission wasn't about only making people laugh or only telling a love story (or series of love stories); it has, always been about a group of people who love each other, and how the bonds between people are built and sustained through the choices we make and the things we experience, together. It's about all the imperceptible moments that make a family, that make a life. Every single little thing that's happened matters (like the little things that happen in real life all matter, all add up); it is all part of a cohesive whole. And it's really, really gorgeous.

[berrylover0571]

I was talking to somebody tonight and something came up that bothered me that I didn't realize had bothered me and I needed to vent about it.

Online, identity is fluid and very easy to sort of come to understand. After a certain point there is a sort of inflexibility to identity, expectations placed on You by other people, but overall your identity is very fluid and people can see a new you almost everywhere you go. Online you get the benefit of people not knowing you, who are then able to sort of come to understand who you are.

Offline this is not the case. offline, peoples expectations of you are a lot more rigid, and a lot less fluid, and a lot more likely to be inflexible and annoying and hard to deal with. I have become intimately familiar with this fact in the most recent couple days. If you don't like being specific, fit every bill, and Jive most smoothly with the way Society is, this isn't a problem. However when you're trans like me, and you're going through a period of transition, and you need a lot of things validation-wise, that validation doesn't come from the sources it should. It just, it just doesn't.

That brings me to my point:

I have never been called cute by a person in my real life proximity.

Online I've had the wonderful Fortune of quite a number of people I know finding out and knowing the real much more intimate and personal me. They know the person that I want to be, the cute, strange woman that I am. Offline I have not been so fortunate, despite being fortunately blessed with a lot of other things. I don't have a lot of typical queer traumas because a lot of the queer traumas that exist are due to an unaccepting environment and shitty relationship with religion imposed by shitty people reinforced by shitty history. I will never otherwise or trivialize those things, at least not intentionally, because doing so would be shitty on my part and Trauma should be healed not disregarded. However, the traumas I do have are very specific and very small but they have cascading effects on my person that have made navigating and existing in the world a painful experience in a different way. To sort of convey where my trauma comes from, and the ways in which I am deeply affected by certain things, I will tell you how I used to self harm, because I did something that is probably far worse than anything I could have done physically.

I could not bring myself to break skin, so I instead psychologically scarred myself through a myriad of different behaviors that were not healthy. From staying up late at night and scrolling through stuff I shouldn't have such as gore videos or deeply frightening horror videos and stories, to making myself worry about how I came off and ultimately self-sabotaging the way I interact with everyone, to long time spans of isolation from people, oftentimes self-imposed or imposed by the fact that I lived a half an hour out of town in another city all together. And what friendships I did have were intense friendships or unhealthy and toxic friendships, due partially to my selection in class, but also due to the fact that I did not value myself and let people walk all over me. This basically normalized me to the presence of unsupportive friendships and the absence of any sort of compliment reciprocation, and so for almost a decade to my entire life I have never known people who compliment me, and I have felt and found a deep anxiety in how I maintain relationships. I reinforce my worth with how much someone needs of me and not how much somebody appreciates me, and I don't like having that appreciation shown, and I've come to the conclusion that I actually should in fact like being appreciated.

Because the reason why I had an aversion was because I never knew what it was like to have a supportive group of people around me.

I've never been called cute. Not cute, not attractive, outside of maybe nice kind or creative, I am not described as really anything by people. And that carries over into my transition, which deeply bothers me. It deeply bothers me.

I have a friend group that's really supportive, and really nice and really easy to talk to and do things with and who care about me, who are complimentary and they want to do nice things constantly and it really feels good, but I've never known what I've wanted, I've never known what I've wanted to be, who I wanted to be seen as, how I've wanted to be seen, and I've been trying on things, and so by now they've kind of got a set in stone understanding of who I am and what I want to be, and I've only just realized that the person they've constructed me to be is not the person I want to be.

I don't hate the person I am to them, it's nice to feel like I'm a fierce person and to be recognized for it, I like having power for once and control and the ability to assert myself in a healthy manner, but I don't just want that. I don't just want to be assertive. I don't just want to be strong. Because I have been strong all my fucking life, I have been people's walls and I have been there ramparts and I have been their parapets, I've been every single part of a person except vulnerable, and I love being able to be relied upon, I love being able to be there for people, but I don't want that to be the only thing I have. Because it is utterly fucking exhausting.

I want to be seen as cute. And pretty and beautiful and lovely. Don't get me wrong, I love wearing black and torn jeans and fishnets and all these different things, I love that ferocity, but I still want to be all of those things and wear that kind of stuff. And I know that's possible because hundreds of other people do it and they get it.

So why can't i?

Why is it that when I relate to things, why is it that when I want to feel like I'm cute and sweet and delicate like a dried black rose, people feel the need to invalidate that? To not just let me be and just let me enjoy myself?

A friend posted something in a group chat, and I related to it, and I felt like saying I related to it, it said something cute, and for some reason the person who sent it felt the need to tell me that it was okay I related to it, but they always conceived of me as powerful. And that hurt for some reason. Like that hurt a lot.

It's so exhausting trying desperately to be the kind of person you want to be, and knowing that no matter what, no matter how much you fucking heal and rectify in yourself, it will never be enough to change how somebody sees you. It will never be enough to truly and meaningfully convey who you want to be. Because they see you and they see this one specific person, and they don't even have to be the person you were before, especially in the case of trans people, just the person they met you as, and that's the person you are to them forever for some reason.

I'm so tired of being someone I don't want to be.

I so desperately want to feel like I'm a cute person. I dress cute, I do cute things in my eyes, I try and do somewhat cute makeup, but it's not enough. It's never fucking enough. I'm so fucking tired of not being enough. I'm tired of being a second choice, I'm tired of feeling like I only attract people in my real life who want me to be crazy all the time, I'm tired of feeling like I don't exist unless I am this loud and abrasive person.

I don't know how some girls do it. I don't know how they've managed to make this fucking leap. I don't know how some of my bestest friends did it. Because God knows they're adorable and they're awesome and they're wonderful, and it's honestly killing me. It kills me every goddamn day. Every goddamn day to think I've done it, to think I've reached that threshold, done that thing, and only people who've never met me, who don't know my person and don't know who I am and only know this part of me call me cute. Because I fit their bill, thousands of miles away, through a computer screen I fit their bill.

Words on a screen A Thousand Miles away, hell 30 Mi away, aren't enough. They just aren't. It doesn't feel like I exist. Like I have substance or that I matter or that I'm interesting, it feels like I'm just an object on a screen that people can sort of look at and enjoy aesthetically.

I can appreciate the value in that, I can appreciate that when I feel like it's enough. But when I try desperately, and I mean when I try desperately, it never feels like enough and that just exhausts me. It just fucking exhausts me.

Everyone else gets what they want, but I don't.

I don't get a relationship that I can feel and exist in and be happy with, I get a relationship I feel distant from and a person who tries their best but is overextended and they most likely know it. I don't get compliments that make me feel good, I get compliments that feel like they're just telling me what they think I want to hear.

Estrogen gave me an ass and a clear head, and honestly sometimes I wish my head was fucked again because at least then I felt like I was adequate. At least then I would feel like I deserved that mess instead of realizing that I didn't.

Everyone preaches constantly about being considerate and kind and talking to people on their own terms and giving them things that make them happy in their own specific way, and yet? Everyone else gets it.

Everyone else gets to be pretty, and cute, and adorable, they get to be fawned over and loved and adored and aspired to be and I get reassurance. I get once out of a thousand times. And it kills me.

I've lived with good enough, just enough, all of my life. Been 6 months I'll be 25, a quarter of my lifespan, and I know now that it's not enough. It's never been enough. I have just been accepting things at their face value and not being the person I want to be and now that I want to be that person? It's harder than ever just to get what everyone else gets. Because I don't want to be just good enough, I don't want to be fucking exceptional, I just want once. I don't want it to be forced or out of pity I just want it naturally once!

I went in Cosplay to an anime convention as a character that's not from an anime. It was just somebody I wanted to cosplay, somebody that gave me gender euphoria, and somebody that I felt comfortable enough to be able to do. And still feel comfortable enough to be able to do.

I didn't expect to be recognized, I didn't expect to have anyone make the connection, but one person, one very kind person did. And it made my day. It wasn't forced, they didn't ask who I was, they just knew. They didn't even know their name they just knew what the character was, they knew the proper reference points and they knew what exactly to say and it made my fucking day.

Because it had worked! It had fucking worked!

That's what it would feel like but like a thousand times better.

I don't want to be pretty to an onlooker on a screen who's so distant from me and so detached from who I am, I want someone to see me in my state, trying my hardest to be the person I want to be, and I want them to say it without fucking feeling forced.

I want to feel pretty and cute and sweet, like some weird goth little Pokemon.

Why can't i?

[7ban-sama]

since someone already asked avvy it just feels right to ask you too - whats it like kinning amane?

You're right, it's only fair. But I must out myself, pretty much immediately after reading Avvy's post, I said aloud to her: "Man I hope no one asks me what it's like..."

Not because it's a bad question to ask (so don't sweat it) but, I just don't think it's going to sound as... fl-flattering? Lol... I must accept my fate.

The first thing I should say though, is that it feels really, really good, to be Amane. (Most of the time.) Does that sound silly? Probably, right...? Haha.

I'm not totally unfamiliar to a sense of ~kinnie euphoria~. I've definitely experienced this before. In general, I've always had issues navigating my very-compartmentalized self, and kin stuff helps me more thoroughly understand who Bird even Is, and what it means to be Bird. Which can feel relieving... it helps me define my art as well, and ultimately I get more satisfaction through it all. Though... eh, kin isn't exactly a 'choice' either, it's more like seeing a photo of yourself and recognizing yourself in it. If you're someone like me, who's struggled to even know what you look like, sometimes seeing that photo is relieving. "Oh, thank god... that's me." Er, but once you're past that stage, it's more often a neutral observation ("Yup... that's me.") and at worst, kind of humiliating. Seeing a BAD photo of yourself... a lame one. It goes back and forth; this is the downside of kin...

So... with Amane, I guess a lot of the time, it's like seeing myself, and it's — haunting. "My god, am I really like that?" But also I look really Cool. This is new, lol. I'm not used to feeling so cool. And like uhh, handsome, and interesting. So it makes me act... cockier, ruder, more insufferable. More arrogantly. My ego is unfathomable, at this point.

I feel so justified though. Maybe I'm prone to acting worse because I know I have a little brother that'll always be into it, though... Hmm, I guess I'm spoiled too. Not a small detail. I understand, implicitly, that I am adored... Tsukasa loves everything I do. Or, he'll have to, if I bully him about it. I'm not really worried about that, ever. At most I just get frustrated he didn't clap at the right time, or he didn't clap hard enough. (Be impressed by me!! Dummy...)

Hmm, I really feel as though my body is being piloted by a shitty 13 yo boy. (And it's one that won't stop watching porn and fucking his girlies.) When I was Actually 13, my life sucked and I couldn't really act like that at all; I had to be passive and meek, for a myriad of reasons. In some ways, it's pretty novel, just being so... unencumbered, at times? I've never felt more like Some Guy. It's a feedback loop also, I think, cuz Avvy's probably never seen me be so... *shitty boyfriend♂️*

Of course, not always smooth sailing, I do feel guilty at times. Amane is errr, unstable, as much as anything; he can make us get obsessively depressed and self-hating for a week straight, like literally making us cry over it kfkfkfkf.... This is the cost for all those high-highs, I suppose. He gets so depressed about how poorly he acts and how the girlies shouldn't be shackled to him (like, is sad for them, to be stuck with a jerk... why... why can't I just be normal... *sulks*) Usually he just needs a blowjob to reorient. You know how it is...

I can say that my favorite moments are like hers. :) I find that I get the most peace out of our day to day exchanges. It's really all about those little moments, like showering together, taking walks, sharing food. Somehow it's like... nostalgic, you get all, natsukashii... As if it's something we've done our whole life. That's nice... I like that. Feeling as though Avvy's always been with me, that what we do now is simply evocative of our entire childhood together. And I can't imagine it being any other way. Very cozy... I love watching my dumb baby brother make weird noises at me and chew on my nose n stuff... and I love to be rude and shove him, or grab him by the throat, or say something to make him go "nuuhhh!!!" and flail... That's the good stuff ❤

I think Avvy went into the 'states' she occupies... I think in my day-to-day, I'm sort of floating around ages 8-12. Kinda depends on how fussy or bawdy or awkward... Depressive states are like, I become ghost boy, at the roof staring at the moon. 'Arghh, I'm so terrible for what I've done, uuuruaruhh,,,, I can't visit your beautiful corpse, I'll just stay here'. When I'm physical agonies, I really regress into 4yo boy, cough cough. But the it's nice when I am brought water and food and stuff. Relief of brother care me... bring me things.

I worry, in terms of 'true self', that bandage boy is the most Me, deep down. I can't word that any more clearly. We haven't seen him in full, so of course, it's just that kind of delusional certainty. No way to "know", I just...

Hah. hahaha... hahahhahaha.

[getvalentined]

So, for reasons unknown, I can't process raw plant matter. It was originally assumed that I had oral allergy syndrome, but the symptoms are too different, and some party trick type tests with a molecular biologist friend some years ago proved that I can hold a grape in my mouth for five minutes solid and it won't break down at all, which is absolutely not normal. (I probably don't produce enough amylase, or the amylase I do produce doesn't work properly, but it's super complicated and honestly no doctor I've ever talked to about it has had any idea of how to test for it, so we just work around it.)

This means that I can't, or at least shouldn't eat any fruit or vegetables that aren't already broken down to some degree—cooked, that is, until they're soft and the cellular bonds are fragile enough for the enzymes I do have to work. I can't eat some at all, because there's no way to reduce them to a state where I can eat them comfortably, and most are honestly pretty unappetizing by the time they reach an edible state anyway.

It's important that you know all this so that you understand what it means when I tell you that I have fresh strawberries once or twice a week.

It's very uncomfortable after the fact, and I end up with welts and blisters in my mouth if I don't cut myself off quickly enough, my lips get swollen and raw, it's a really unpleasant experience if I'm not very careful. But...I love strawberries. Fresh strawberries, when they're still crisp and tart and shiny.

The first time I allowed myself to have a nectarine after abstaining from fresh fruit entirely for over a year, I burst into tears. I ate the entire thing, and didn't care that I was spitting blood halfway through. I didn't care that I had blisters under my tongue and that my lips were so swollen I could barely talk, or that it felt like someone had taken a steel brush to the inside of my esophagus. I ate the entire thing.

I love fresh fruit. I know it's "bad for me," I know it's going to have consequences, I know that if I'm not careful I'll also be very sick for at least a day, but I love fresh fruit.

Because I'm disabled in other capacities, my youngest sister serves as my primary caregiver, and she's aware of my myriad of dietary restrictions—instead of telling me not to eat fresh fruit because it's bad for me, she and I went back and forth for a couple months seeing what was hardest on me and what was easiest, and where along that spectrum of danger was something that I really liked eating.

Being able to enjoy my life is as important, if not more important than never experiencing any discomfort. My disability gives me quality of life that's already lower than most, and denying myself these little bursts of joy and pleasure that are "bad for me" in the short term but generally harmless in the long term would be a self-imposed degradation of that already below-standard quality of life.

So I eat strawberries once or twice a week. There's a lot wrong with me, but there's nothing wrong with that.

it’s okay to do things that make your symptoms worse (as long as you’ll stay safe)

every once in a while you need to eat something yummy. or go on a walk. or a trip to the zoo. take a hot shower. cry your eyes out. dance. listen to music. draw for way to long. write. laugh. sit in a cafe with a friend. paint your nails. dye your hair. go on a run. pet a cat

sometimes you need to do things that are cathartic or make yourself feel alive. sometimes you need the reminder of why you’re fighting so hard to stay alive

this is your reminder that just because it makes your symptoms worse, it isn’t always the wrong thing to do. there can be value in these actions

[carniscrubs]

Does anyone truly care, or is it just an illusion?

Throughout my life, I have faced numerous challenges. However, I don't mention this to join the ranks of those who constantly emphasize how difficult their lives have been. You know the type—people who incessantly complain about the hardships they've endured, their myriad problems, and the troubled nature of their childhood or adolescence. We all encounter obstacles and difficulties at various points in our lives. Sometimes, all we desire is for someone to lend an ear and listen.

Guess what? I'm that person who is willing to listen! No judgment, no sermons, and no entanglement in controversial topics like politics or religion. None of that. Just a compassionate ear. If you're struggling and feel like nobody cares, I care. Give it a try! I may not be able to solve your problems or find the perfect words to say, and at times I might just sit here, staring at your text. But I will listen, I will respond, and I genuinely care. Why, you might ask, would I care about a complete stranger? Well, despite my attempts to deny it, I am human. I have experienced pain and found myself in situations where it felt as if the entire world had turned its back on me. I've had moments where I contemplated ending my own life, where I ran away (and actually did!), where I harbored ill feelings toward others, and where I wished to spend my life sleeping, avoiding the world outside my bed. I have ventured into some dark places without anyone to extend a helping hand and pull me out.

I never want to miss an opportunity to prevent someone else from feeling that way. That's why. That's why I would care about a complete stranger.

[brvdges]

Like A River Flows - Stark!Reader x Peter Parker

Title: like a river flows

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N hopes to meet her soulmate on her eighteenth birthday. Soulmate No Blip AU

Warnings: none

A/N: I've been gone so long but here's a new imagine! I got a new laptop! So hopefully there will be tons more of these. I listened to "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Kina Grannis if you wanna get the full experience.

Word Count: 1824

___

You could hear the sound of glasses clinking and laughter echoing up from the main room as you tugged at your dress at the top of the stairs. You turned around and looked in the ornate mirror behind you. 

Everything about you was perfectly polished and plucked; your lace was perfectly laid with every hair beautifully framing your face. Your ears were adorned with simple gold diamond studs and a matching name necklace sat daintily on your collarbone.

Your makeup was done to perfection with your brown eyes sparkling from behind layers of shadow, liner, mascara, and false lashes. For the first time in your life, you had gotten your makeup done professionally. Your father had paid for it of course -- it was at his insistence that you had gotten it done.

In fact, the entire party was at his insistence and he had taken it upon himself to have every detail perfect. You didn’t really want a big elaborate birthday party, but today was the big day. 

Everyone had a special day when you’d finally know the person you’re meant to be with. At a young age, you’d come to the conclusion somehow your meeting would be on your eighteenth birthday. When your father was enlightened with this fact, he had taken it upon himself to make everything perfect -- including you. Thanks to him, you looked undeniably stunning.  It was the most beautiful you had seen yourself in a long while. Ever since your mom had passed, you hadn't felt the need to dress up anymore -- so it no longer felt like you.

“You look absolutely radiant, Y/N.” Pepper assured you as she joined you in looking in the mirror. “Your father outdid himself. Just wait until he sees you.” You understood immediately what she meant, you were almost a spitting image of your mother. Your mahogany skin and high cheekbones were hers, as was your smile and arched eyebrows. The only evidence of your father was the occasional facial expression. “You ready?” she asked turning you back towards the steps. 

You nodded and smiled cautiously, “You’re gonna be okay. There’s so many people down there and they’re all excited to see you.” The two of you peered over the banister down all the sea of people below. Your father had indeed gone for a more sophisticated approach, but as with all Stark parties it was pretty much promised to liven up as the night went on. 

“All right! Chin up!” You did as you were told and began your way down the grand staircase. As you made your descent, you saw the attention shift to you as everyone took you in for the first time that night. “The birthday girl is here!” Natasha raised a glass to you. You smiled to her as you were welcomed with a myriad of birthday wishes.

As the party continued on, you felt almost like a princess. So many promising people had come up and introduced themselves to you; however nothing had clicked yet. You were starting to wonder if all the theatrics had been for nothing when your dad found you. You were standing against the wall watching your friends have a ball of a time dancing to the DJ that had recently taken place of the string quartet. 

“Y/N, shouldn’t you be dancing?” he asked, his dark brows furrowing in confusion. You sighed disappointedly, “Yeah, I guess.” You picked at a string on your dress, “I thought I’d meet them today.” Your dad nodded glancing over at Pepper. She was talking excitedly to Natasha -- likely about wedding plans. The way he looked at her was so beautiful. The way you could tell everything he felt for her from just a look was absolutely amazing. That was it -- that what you wanted. 

“Well, Y/N, you never know there’s still a few hours left to your birthday.” you frowned a bit, “I’ve talked to every person here that I’ve never met. I’m pretty sure it’s not happening today.” your dad chuckled, “You know Y/N, I know I’ve told you the story of how I met your mom.”

“Italy, 1999.” you mumbled looking up at your father. He nodded, “We met and it felt right. I’m not one to be very emotional, but I knew I wanted to keep her around. There was just something about her.” you tilted your head, “She wasn’t your soulmate though. Pepper is.” He sighed, “She was the one for me -- well until she passed, of course. By that time, I had known Pepper for years and I didn’t see her in that way until one day, I just did.” He looked over at her again, her and Natasha had been joined by Maria.

“I don’t know if you're understanding what I’m getting at. I don’t know if I’m explaining it clearly. What I’m saying is -- it could be someone you’ve already met and maybe you just haven’t realized it yet. No one ever said it had to be someone new -- just that there was a day that you would know.” He gave you a small smile, “You should enjoy your night because either way, you look amazing, kiddo. Happy birthday.” he playfully hit you on the shoulder before walking away.

Taking your dad’s words to heart, you decided to let it go for the night and just have fun. You made your way out onto the dancefloor, your friends cheering at your arrival.

...

It was finally the end of the night, cake had been eaten and presents had been surveyed as there were too many to open. Most of the guests were beginning to go home but some still lingered out on the cul-de-sac. You stood on the front porch, your heels in your right hand as you waved people goodbye with your left.

“I seemed to have missed most of the festivities.” A familiar voice made you turn around to see your father’s prodigy, Peter Parker, standing behind you. You were pretty good friends with Peter as he had been working with your father for little over three years now. Even still, he seemed to have his moments where he seemed to shut himself off from you and get quiet. He seemed to have his moments and his secrets and so you didn’t really hang out much outside him visiting the tower.

He also wasn’t a social butterfly so even though you had invited him to your party, you didn’t actually expect him to show. Even though it was the end of the night, your spirits still rose seeing him here. “Yeah, you did. My dad got so drunk he serenaded Pepper on the bar.” the two of you laughed. 

You looked out over the seemingly never-ending property, your father had held your party at the summer home. It aided in you feeling like a princess, there was a garden maze on the south side of the home and a long driveway lit by lanterns. You glanced over at Peter and stepped off of the porch, “Would you like to join me on a walk?” He smiled and followed. 

The two of you slowly made your way towards the garden maze on the other side of the property. “You look...” he trailed off while admiring you. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks and were glad he couldn’t actually see it, “Thank you.” The two of you turned into the garden maze as lightning bugs flew overhead and a cool breeze filled the air. As you walked, you tried to catch and release a few lightning bugs.

The sounds of late summer night hummed in the background as you spotted the small black rectangular box in his hand, “What’s that?” you asked. He looked down at it sheepishly, “It’s just something I got you. I don’t know if you’ll actually like it.” He had thought to buy you something? That was unexpected, but very welcomed. 

Without you saying anything, he slowly opened the small box to reveal another gold necklace. “It’s not 100 percent pure gold like the ones your dad gets you,” it was absolutely gorgeous. It was a small heart pendant attached to a gold chain. “It’s stupid really-” he scratched the back of his neck, looking down at it. “It’s beautiful, Peter.” You whispered in awe. 

“Would you mind? You can take the other one off.” You said turning around. He carefully removed it from the box. He put it over your head and placed the pendant on your collarbone before securing it in the back and you felt a warm sensation in your heart. Suddenly, everything changed. 

It was like your senses had sharpened. You could hear the distant conversation at the front of the property and the chirping of the crickets. You could feel the soft summer breeze across your body and Peter’s soft breath on the back of your neck where goosebumps had started to form. Every time his skin accidentally brushed yours, it felt delicate yet intense all at once. The world seemed to slow as he pulled your hair over the chain after removing the other necklace and turned you to face him. 

You studied his face and your eyes fell upon his brown ones. His hand found yours sending shivers through your body. You lightly squeezed his hand before pulling him closer feeling your knees start to get weak.

Resting your hand on the side of his face, you slowly guided him to the ground. You were close enough to lightly feel the air escaping his nose. He looked down at your lips and was about to lean in when- “Y/N! Come say goodbye to your grandmother!” your father called off from the distance somewhere. 

The two of you fell apart still sitting on the ground the closest you had ever been. You frowned slightly looking away, “I should say goodbye to my nonna. I usually give her a kiss and a hug goodbye.” You licked your lips looking down to avoid eye contact. “She flew in from Italy -- my mom’s side of the family. I don’t get to see her like that.” 

“No, no. I understand.” he mumbled as you both quickly stood. You began dusting off your dress as he helped. You looked up at him again quickly before looking back down again, “Thanks again. It’s beautiful.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes again because his gaze suddenly felt so intense, it felt like you’d melt. “You’re welcome.”

“Y/N!” your dad yelled off in the distance again. You gestured towards the balcony of the house where your dad was likely yelling from, “I have to go.” Peter nodded quickly, “I understand.” You admired him and watched as his eyes softly gazed over your features one last time. “Good night, Peter.” you waved quickly, “Good night, Y/N.” You gathered your dress and hurried off towards where your dad and nonna waited for you on the balcony.

That was it.

[roll-da-credits]

A Bunny with Bunny?  -Tamaki x reader-

Word count: 2k

Tamaki was someone who needed constant reassuring, you knew that when getting in a relationship with him. But sometimes, you forget. With a new tiny addition to your family distracting you and taking all your time, its hard not to get insecure and jealous.

A/n: AHHHHHHH, I can’t. I hope you guys enjoy the first fanfic I post here. I’ve literally never posted in Tumblr ever. I’ve always used Wattpad.

It was common knowledge by this point that Tamaki Amajiki had a lot of insecurities and anxiety. It only heightened when it came to you.

Although, a lot of the time you diffused his anxiety and insecurities pretty quickly once you realized. Whenever it came to you, he found himself deep in thought at night thinking if he deserved you.

In his mind, you were an incredible person with an equally wonderful personality. While he, on the other hand, was shy and riddled with nervousness at any social interaction. You shone bright, much like Mirio, he thought of himself as nothing compared to you.

Every single time he's had one of those thoughts, you'd be able to sense his doubts by the way he carried himself. Not doubts about your relationship or you, but on himself.

So, the entire day you'd stick close to him, showering him with light affection that you knew won't embarrass or make him feel even more embarrassed.

He considered himself EXTREMELY lucky to have someone as understanding and caring as you in his life. He knew dealing with his myriad of issues was difficult. But you went through them with no problem.

You even helped him with helping himself. By your constant words of affirmation, he's been able to be a bit more confident, even when you weren't there to help him.

Time went on, and by the second year you were dating, he barely had any doubts about himself in your relationship.

That is until he heard your conversation with Nejire.

"Just look at him!!!" You squealed in excitement.

 He was going through a hallway when he heard your and Nejire's voice when the hallways separated to the right and left. He stopped to listen in, curious about what you were talking about.

 "He is adorable." Nejire seemed to agree with you, peeking at the corner. He saw how you gushed about whatever photo you were showing Nejire.

His heart sank a little bit, but he wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was a photo of a family member.

"I just met him like last week and already have A LOT of photos of him."

Ok, this is starting to not sound like a family member.

Maybe it's a friend's baby brother. You have a lot of friends outside of the school you were close to their siblings as well.

"I just want to pamper him with all the kisses in the world and give him world!!!" You gushed.

Shit.

 Tamaki felt his heart drop. There's no way you were talking about a family member. Not by the way you seem to be enamored by them.

He tried to think back on when you seemed to lose interest. Thinking back to last week, did you act any differently?

If you did, he didn't notice it. The problem was last week you said you were ridiculously busy with stuff at home. He could even see from the tapping of your foot to the ground when it was last period you were aching to go back home.

Was it because of this new guy?

His heart clenched at the thought.

"God, I love him so much." His mind begged him to stop listening.

But before walking away, he wanted to hear what Nejire might say. There's no way his best friend would be ok with this.

There's no way she wouldn't protest at you being infatuated with another person when you were still in a relationship with Tamaki. That's just what a good friend would do. Instead of that, she said jokingly.

"Watch out a certain blue-haired boy might get jealous." You both laughed at her remark.

Did you think he wouldn't get jealous over you doting on another guy?

Did the nights you spent together cuddling and napping together really meant nothing to you?

His insecurities crept back into his mind. Tiny voices whispered about how he should've expected it. He should've expected someone as radiant as you would never want to be with someone like him.

His vision was blurred by the lot of tears that came down as he furiously tried to wipe them away.

He didn't watch the way he was going, and as a result, he bumped in head first to someone's chest.

He tried to mutter an apology, yet it came out as a stuttering mess of squeaks. "Woah! Slow down, Tamaki. What's wrong?"

Mirio.

Thankfully the guy he bumped into was Mirio, one of the most understanding guys he ever known.

Mirio pulled Tamaki to the side, where they both sat on a nearby seat. He patiently waited as Tamaki rubbed his eyes red, trying to clear his eyes from tears.

When Tamaki finally calmed down a little and is now just sniffling once in a while, Mirio braved himself to ask the question.

"Hey, Tamaki, what's wrong?" Tamaki's gaze still fixed to the ground, spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "I think Y/n doesn't love me anymore."

Mirio's eyes went wide in shock. He didn't believe that in a second. You're the person who'd take any chance you can get to attack Tamaki with kisses or force him to cuddle with you whenever he felt unloved.

"Why do you think that?" Mirio composed himself. "I overheard them and Nejire talking about some guy she found cu- cute."

He stuttered a little bit at the end, finding it hard to believe that he would ever say that out loud.

"There has to be a misunderstanding here. Are you sure it's not just some celebrity or a family member?"

Tamaki heard the small panic in Mirio's voice. He knew Mirio didn't want to accept the fact either. "I heard them say that they just met him last week and that they wanted to give him kisses."

Mirio rubbed his temples to try and cope with the upcoming headache caused by stress.

There would be no way that you'd do that to Tamaki, is there?

There was a possibility that you and Tamaki's relationship didn't work out. He knew relationships aren't always permanent. But he didn't believe that you'd be such a coward, flirting with other guys when you were still in a relationship with someone who's head over heels for you.

"Tamaki, how about this." Mirio wanted to come up with a plan. Since it was already time to go home anyway, he thought it'd be a great idea to do it. "You and I can both go to Y/n's house, where they're most likely at right now, then we can talk about it."

Tamaki looked like he was about to disagree until, Mirio cut him off, "We need to make sure we read the situation correctly. We don't want to assume the worse, but at the same time, we shouldn't be needlessly positive either."

Tamaki gaped at Mirio's calmness. He knew he was so lucky to have Mirio as a friend. Someone level-headed that was able to bring Tamaki's mind to the situation at hand.

Tamaki agreed with Mirio together made their way over to your house. Albeit, both of them pretty nervous about what they might uncover.

When reaching your front door, Tamaki noticed how your parent's car wasn't there, which meant they weren't home. Tamaki took the spare key you gave him and opened the door.

It was relatively quiet until there was a high-pitched squeal from your bedroom.

Tamaki jumped at the sudden sound, and Mirio identified it as Nejire's voice.

"HE LOOKS CUTER IN PERSON!!!" They both heard Nejire scream.

Both the boys had incredibly bad feelings about this. Nejire's statement only confirmed the fact that you had brought this guy to your house.

Tamaki shook his head when Mirio motioned him to open the door to your bedroom.

He didn't want to see you all over a new guy who took your interest.

Hell, he didn't even want to be there in the first place.

Mirio sighed and nodded. He understood the circumstances his best friend was in and decided to open the door first.

When he did, the sight made his mouth gape open.

"Mirio!" You greeted the Tintin looking man (he looks like Tintin sue me.) "I've been looking for you everywhere. I want you to meet a special someone."

Tamaki, from behind Mirio's muscular physique, was still hidden from the two other people in the room and also couldn't see anything.

He only assumed the worst.

"This is Shiro. My parents bought him as a gift, and isn't he just the cutest little thing."

Wait

Wait

WAIT

BOUGHT??

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BOUGHT???

Tamaki pulled Mirio away from the door frame and looked at the sight that made Mirio so speechless.

Nejire was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her hand filled with fresh and clean greens.

You were sitting cross-legged as well, but on the ground. In the middle of your legs slept a tiny little black and white Dutch rabbit. (search them up they're adorable)

Now he understood why Mirio was speechless.

It was never a family member.

It was never a new guy.

It was never even a human being.

It was a fucking bunny.

He got so jealous to the point of crying, over a damn bunny.

Embarrassment seeped through him and he instantly walked to the corner of the wall to face it.

He should've noticed the litter box in your house. And how there were tufts of fur stuck on your clothes.

God, he felt so dumb.

You were so confused at your boyfriend's sudden timidness, but because of the tiny little ball of fur currently sleeping where you're sitting. There's no way you'd move and stir him from his sleep.

Mirio laughed out loud, and you quickly quieted him, explaining how bunnies are easily spooked.

He apologized and sat cross-legged in front of you, examining the tiny bunny thankfully still deep in slumber.

"Tamaki heard you talking about little Shiro to Nejire today." You nodded, while your hand softly caresses Shiro's head.

Tamaki shuffled closer into the wall, wishing to any god out there to melt into the wall. "After he told me, we genuinely thought you found a new boyfriend."

Your eyes widened and you looked over to your shy boyfriend.

Your heart ached at the thought.

Luckily for you, Shiro began waking up. Upon waking up, he promptly walked away from you to examine the new human being in the corner of the room, Tamaki.

You stood and gave Tamaki the biggest hug from the back you could muster.

Shiro nuzzled on Tamaki's ankles a little bit, making you giggle. "He seems to like you a lot!" Tamaki still refused to turn your way.

"You know in the RARE chance that I find someone even better than you. Which may I add is close to impossible I would never lie to you and still be in a relationship with you." He valued your honesty and the way you didn't try and make empty promises.

Mirio and Nejire took this as a cue to leave. Nejire, leaving the leafy greens on your bedside table above some tissues.

You took Tamaki's arm and turned him to look at you.

"Hey, hey. Have you been crying over this?" His gaze still fixated on the floor, he nodded.

You sighed and took one of your hands to his cheek to caress it. He enjoyed the warmth of your hand and leaned into it more.

Still trying to reassure him, you gave him a small peck on his lips.

Reminding him that right now, he was the most precious HUMAN guy in your life.

Shiro suddenly thumped at the ground with his two back legs. Both of you glanced over at the tiny bunny.

He looked pissed. He seemed to be demanding your attention and is furious to not be getting any.

Both of you burst into laughter at the silly behavior your bunny was now showing. You both sat down on the floor and began to give the bunny attention.

"See even he's jealous of you." You picked Shiro up on both your hands, all his four feet safely planted on the palm of your hand close to your stomach and not high from the ground.

Tamaki looked at you and Shiro and smiled intently. "Bunny with their pet bunny."

Your face heated up at the comment he made using your pet name, "oh shut up." You tried not to sound flustered but failed miserably. By the dopey smile you have decorating your face right now, Tamaki knew you were still ridiculously in love with him.

Even if one day you're not, Tamaki feels good knowing you'd break up with him before you hurt him any further.

After all, you are his most precious, incredible, kind, caring, daring, loving, patient.

Bunny

[kingqueenofinbetween]

Hi! I'm Crown. I go by they/he/she pronouns, I'm genderfluid nonbinary , abro is probably technically the best label for me but I also like to use bi, ambiamorous and on the aroace spectrum. I'm also autistic and I have ADHD.

I am also normally not someone who posts about themself online.

This is a choice I've made for a myriad of reasons that when boiled down and oversimplified are coincidentally the exact reason I have decided to make an exception to that rule:

The reason I didn't post is because I felt like there wasn't a space for someone like me online. (Or in real life for that matter but that is an entire different can of worms.)

This feeling goes a lot deeper than just online stuff but I can already tell this is going to be a long post so I'm not getting into that.

I've until very recently felt like I was alone in a lot of my experiences. I now know for a fact that I am not.

Of course I should have theoretically known that other queer people exist, that other neurodivergent people exist, that there is a large number of other people with mental health issues and that I am by far not the only person with chronic pain.

But the thing is: The people I used to see talking about one of these fragments of my identity were usually people who in most other aspects of their being fit relatively neatly into societal norms.

On top of that comes the fact that all elements of my identity influence each other to some extent, especially my neurodivergency shapes my experiences of all of the other things in a really major way which means I often don't entirely see myself in how most people perceive for example: autism because of my ADHD and on the other side of that I don't really see myself in how most people perceive ADHD because of my autism. This is oversimplifying it but I hope you get what I mean.

In recent years there has been a general push for intersectionality that has helped me pick up on my negative thought patterns regarding the validity of my presence in a given space.

Because the thing is: I am allowed to exist. Yes I am going to be very different than the average person associated with pretty much any given online space or for that matter offline space and there will be aspects of me that other people maybe don't understand or have misconceptions about, but if I keep not putting myself out there because there isn't a space for someone like me then I'll never put myself out there at all. I'm done waiting and searching the corners of social media for someone like me. The funny thing is that I don't think that people like me are even that rare. Not people exactly like me of course, no one is exactly like anyone, but people who share some of these feelings and aspects of my identity.

I want this to be the blog I've been looking for this whole time.

Somewhere in the back of my mind is the hope that this whole thing will make life easier for a younger version of me that might be out there somewhere.

In essence: the target audience of this is me and anyone else who can relate to parts of this is free to stick around too.

I don't know how active I'll be because of the whole I usually don't make posts thing but I'll try to remain active on here as long as I don't run out of things I feel like talking about

[boardbysara]

The Perfect Reason For A Breakup

He was dead set against having a long-term relationship with me from the get-go - I could tell. It was obvious. He basically - like any man - said it directly without saying it directly at all.

I pestered him about it for the entire six months we were seeing each other. At the end of our time together, though he said he loved me and would miss me... he still said directly, without saying it directly, that we wouldn't be together even if our circumstances righted themselves.

Of course I felt rejected. And of course, like any woman would, I agonizingly over-analyzed every single possible reason for his rejection.

There's the fact that I made the classic mistakes that usually make men run... but his love for me increased over those six months, so that doesn't really pan out.

There's the fact that we are both passionate about our faith practices which differ enough that neither would really convert to the other person's. But he was ready to commit to his previous lady who also didn't share his faith, so this reason also doesn't pan out.

There's the assumption that I'm just not pretty enough. I was, as admitted by him, not his usual M.O. when it comes to physical appearance. He usually goes for shorter, chubbier girls. I am 5'6'' and skinny. He literally called me "a skinny." I was his "first" skinny. But he repeatedly and earnestly told me that I am beautiful and sexy in ways a man had never done before, and the man could not keep his hands off me. So that doesn't really pan out.

There's the fact that we do not share the same ethnicity and therefore the same culture. He's very passionate about his culture. I love his culture too! That's why I date guys from it! But of course that's not the same as me being from within it (but gosh how much I wish I was. I swear I was Latina in my past life!!) Except his previous lady wasn't either. So again, it doesn't pan out.

It only leaves one thing left, and while I was praying last night, I felt like God confirmed it:

It's the fact that I'm white collar (and he's blue.)

We never had a conversation about it, but he made comments. I could tell that he has some strong feelings about it.

It did make for some gaps in our emotional connection. I'm a writer. I blog. I self-published a book. I have plans to publish more. He would always make comments about how he "doesn't read." (Not technically true, he is literate, but he doesn't read for enjoyment.) He joked that was why he wouldn't be able to read my books. Ummmm. I definitely need to be with somebody who will read all of my books (front to back)! I want someone I can read books WITH and discuss them together.

There were differences in our perspectives and knowledge that I felt were glaring sometimes and were obviously rooted in a difference in education and exposure.

I knew if I'd taken him home to meet my family there would be some awkwardness... or at least a bit of a barrier to him being able to bond with my family simply because the conversation would be about things he didn't know about or take an interest in.

I could sense the effects of that cultural gap, but I would never judge him for that. I would never write him off as a long-term partner for any of that - for being blue-collar.

I get the sense he does though. He wrote me off. He'd written me off before he'd given me a chance and then he grew to love me in spite of it but it didn't erase the effects of it. Not enough for him, I guess.

His previous lady was blue, too. And the one before that.

And as I'm writing this, it makes me sad, but knowing this also brought me peace.

I REALIZED THAT IF YOU ARE GOING TO REJECT SOMEONE, THIS REASON MEETS THE CRITERIA OF THE PERFECT REASON.

It's not about the subject matter - it's not about the blue collar/white collar reason. It's about the parameters of the reason.

Think about it!

I can't change it - so I don't need to freak out and stress and try to change it.

I'm not inferior because of it. I have absolutely nothing to feel bad about!

I can't be mad at him for it! I mean, I'm sure lots of other people would be mad - I'm sure lots of people reading this are finding fault with him for it. But I can't. Because being with someone who is from the same culture (even if that culture is based around which working/educational class you fall in) is one of those things that makes you feel more at home with a person - makes you feel like you have things in common, like they understand you. And I understand wanting someone you feel at home with - I do too! And I could feel the gap in that between us at times too.

I can't be jealous of another woman for being the opposite of me in this. (Because being jealous of someone for NOT having a college education is illogical. It just doesn't happen.) His next lady might be shorter than me (I've always wanted to be shorter than I am), she might be what I would consider prettier, she might be Latina, she might partake in his faith, and I might feel a tinge of jealousy for all those reasons because they eliminate barriers to being with him (and he is a great man.) But they're not the reasons that I'M not with him. There is ONE reason why I'm not with him - according to all the possible reasons why he could have been against a long-term relationship from the get-go - and it's not one that I can possibly be jealous of.

All of which means I can't really be jealous or mad about his future relationships.

All of which means we actually have a much higher chance of maintaining a genuine friendship. (Except now I don't want that.)

That list, ladies and gents, makes up the criteria for the perfect rejection of a person/relationship. Something you can't change, that isn't a flaw, that you can't feel inferior for, or jealous of, or angry about - and allows the preservation of a friendship if you want it.

I can't lie and say that I don't want someone who fills in the gaps that we both felt - I do! The difference between him and me is that I don't see being blue-collar as a deal-breaker. I think someone who is blue-collar could still fill in those gaps (of me needing more intellectual stimulation) as long as he was a reader.

You don't need to go to college to be smart and get a great job... but in order to have real knowledge and a broader worldview, you do need to read books. This is proven in myriad stories of some of our world's most successful entrepreneurs. So a degree isn't a requirement for me - but books are.

I didn't see his blue-collar status as being an impediment to our relationship, but he does. And I can't force the man to read books.

But I can rest easy knowing that his rejection was one that cuts out all the angst and drama.

FAQs:

If he knew he wasn't going to have a long-term relationship with you from the get-go but proceeded to hook up with you anyway, doesn't that make him a douschebag? Yes. Yes, it does. But he has acknowledged it, apologized, and embarked on the road to change. I.E., is no longer taking advantage of me and my feelings and is working on no longer being a douschebag, in his own way.

If you could tell he was dead-set against it from the get-go, why did YOU keep hooking up with him? Because I naively thought I could change his mind. This is a very common mistake women make. The answer is no - you will never change his mind, no matter what his reason. It just so happened that his reason was something I very truly cannot change. I learned A LOT from this short-lived relationship that will definitely be covered in future posts.

[justteamavatar]

I would like your opinion on something I've thought about for awhile since watching the show. The Makorra break up. I enjoyed Book 2 for many reasons, *coughEskacough* but mainly because it showed a relationship slowly fall apart, and did so in a very natural way. It wasn't just some "Hey let's break up cause reasons." The creators did a great job of showing how a shaky, unstable, rushed relationship ends over the course of Book 2. I loved how it was done. Did you feel the same way?

Ahoy there! Sorry for getting back to you late (uni is a pain in the behind), thank you for the lovely question @notorious-fim and yes, I do feel the same way about how the relationship was handled! These two characters clearly showed a strong pull to one another, but there compatibility as lovers just wasn’t there. 

Everything was very new for Korra the moment she stepped foot onto Republic City. Being sheltered and trained as the Avatar her entire life likely didn’t leave her much time for social engagement and other more worldly activities. Making it into Republic City opened up a whole new world for her and it’s really no wonder that all she wanted to do was have fun, be adventurous and in some ways, be rebellious.

Seeing Mako during his pro-bending match likely ignited a new type of fire that Korra had never really felt before. He was a great pro-bender who had just won the game for the Fire Ferrets and he had the looks and well… that was enough for a girl who just got out into the real world.

What they may have hoped to be a “happily ever after” relationship just turned into a myriad of irritation, stress and arguments. And judging by their interactions in Book 1 in addition to Mako’s whole “Why is it so much easier to bust triads than it is to get through one conversation with my girlfriend?” line, constant bickering was seemed to be at the forefront of their relationship. And well, that’s not all that surprising - they both can be hotheaded, stubborn, passionate and their relationship stem from a solid, slow buildup (*cough*unlike another relationship I know and love*cough*). Not to mention that they seemed to place more emphasis on their jobs/roles than on each other:

~ Enough! Look, I have a job to do! I can’t constantly be worrying about keeping you from making another huge mistake!

~ Well, I have a job to do too, only it seems like you’re always standing in the way of me getting it done!

…

Anyways… there just didn’t seem to really be any strong foundation there for the two of them. The passion and desire was there but the commitment and emotional connection… not so much and I think the two of them realized that more and more throughout the events of book 2. Sure, they cared for and loved each other, but the relationship was far too shaky and unstable. 

This mutual understanding that they had - that despite their feelings for one another, they wouldn’t work out - is incredibly mature. They were able to set aside their spark for the betterment of each other and their own happiness and out of this mutual breakup stemmed a fantastic relationship (something that we never really get to see all that often in shows).

That romantic flame between has been long burnt out, but they will always love and support each other  as close friends/family members would. Not to mention that we see the devotion and inspiration that Korra has instilled in Mako, especially with Remembrances and his willingness to follow her into battle and always have her back. Seeing that loyalty grow from his awkwardness in Book 3 was incredibly and it really does show just how great of friend/presence he is in Korra’s life!

And while I’ve never been someone that’s been a fan of their romantic relationship, I do find their friendship incredibly endearing (and I could totally see Mako as Korra’s best man if/when she gets married) :).

Totally putting this here for Korra’s “:3″ face! This was a cute moment, aha. And that’s probably the most I’ll write about Makorra XD… *runs back to the Land of Korrasami*

*Also note that this is my own opinion and I have no problem with people shipping Makorra!*

[demon-winchester]

Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 9

-Chapter 9-

Screaming and howls everywhere

I jumped from the bed with cold sweat and warm tears running down my face.

The nightmares have been getting worse.

Three days have passed with no signs of Circe in any of the abandoned churches surrounding the city.

I have not exchanged words with anyone... the days have felt endless. I need a win.

The doors of the bunker opened and I headed out. The weather was really moody. The sun was cowering behind the clouds and a light fog has coated the city, a city still asleep with only some birds chirping , saying good morning to whoever was unlucky enough to start their day this early. Two churches were left on my list and then, if I had time I would join my classmates for a coffee... Only two days were left after all.

Both churches turned out to be a waste of time. Empty, gothic buildings with some rotten furniture and plenty of bird nests. Another failure, my god I need a break.

I showed up to the cafe and I managed to scare a couple of my friends sitting with their backs turned on me. The time moved swiftly and the atmosphere was really light, it felt like a normal day for once. I tip toed my way around their questions and I must say it went surprisingly better than I expected. Though I couldn't forget the fact that this meetup was more bitter than sweet. It felt like a goodbye and as far as I'm concerned, it was. Lydia emerged with one of the teachers so I excused myself and I approached her once she was alone. We hugged and we started chatting. Eventually, I talked about the dead end I've put myself in because I'm sure her insight would help.

"Huh, abandoned churches you say?" she exclaimed while gazing in the distance, "Chapels are technically churches too aren't they?" she continued. "Well I thought about that too and I've checked.. Even if you count the fact that they are too small for a ritual or something, every last one I've checked was entirely empty" I answered. "Oh damn... OH DAMN" she said jumping up from her seat and smiling, "you know where else you can find a Chapel don't you?" she continued and I was left entirely confused,"Hospitals you idjit!!!".

My eyes lit up, "See, most times you're stupider than a pile of bricks but others... Well other times you surprise me and that's why I love the way you think" I said while starting to gather my stuff. "I'm gonna take the last part as a compliment but nevertheless fuck you!!" she replied. . . "You're leaving already aren't you?" she asked with a lower tone. "That lead might make the difference between life and death and I'm running out of time" I answered. "Tomorrow is the last day you know" she sighed. "I do know, and I'm spending it with you if I find her today... That's why I'm on a hurry" I replied and I hugged her "Bye for now and with a little hope, tomorrow is going to be amazing". "Bye" she replied in a somber tone while I was walking away.

After a bit of research I found an old hospital complex placed near the outskirts. I talked with some people on some creepypasta sites. It's called the Eloise complex but it's known within the community as the Hiver Noir Asylum meaning Black Winter. Stories date back to the Cold War era where the clinically insane were living there and apparently some doctors decided to have some fun with them... Even after all the things I've fought, humans still take the crown for the most despicable. It's been abandoned for 10 years now and it's supposedly haunted, sudden temperature drops, constantly frozen windows and they say you can hear teeth grinding and 'faint wails of anguish of the lost souls', man the creepypasta writers have a lot of imagination. Recently though there have been reports of veiled figures appearing in the premises. Certainly a great contender.

The sun was setting and the scenery was perfect, I of course had the cover of night and the fog would certainly come in useful for getting there... Too far to walk so I had to use my wings.

I landed and dust rose from the ground around me. The asylum was desolate. Overgrown weeds all around the premises and vines slowly making their ascend on the walls of the building . It almost felt like nature had consciousness, like she was trying to reclaim these grounds and then, hopefully, drag this horrid building in the deepest circles of hell.

I approached and I started hearing a weird sound but I couldn't quite understand what it was so I brushed it off. I reached the doors. The windows were frozen and the door knobs were encased in ice.. they wouldn't open. I kicked the doors down and a faint scream was heard in the distance. The weird sound could still be heard but now it was coming from right behind me... I could almost phrase what the sound was.. it stood on the edge of my tongue but I couldn't quite grasp it. I roamed around the building for a bit and the atmosphere was suffocating each and every second.

Eerie phenomenons were happening as I was delving deep inside the building. Peculiar figures standing at the ends of expanding corridors, doors opening and closing by themselves, faint wails in the distance, sudden temperature drops and that awful sound hadn't seized in all this time... My blood was running cold and the exit had never seemed quite so sweet, yet, I had to keep going. The wooden floors were creaking on my every step as I entered a long hallway full of rooms. I kept walking and I was sure some of the footsteps weren't mine. Something was terribly wrong in this asylum.

I was startled and I stopped moving. A face was at the end of the hallway, it was tilting from the wall and looking at me. I - I couldn't move a muscle and the person, or the thing, or whatever it was, it was still staring at me. When I managed to take a step back I felt someone breathing on my shoulder. "Can I crawl inside your body? I feel so, so cold." someone whispered to my ear, then I heard that sound and it was coming from them all this time... They started grinding their teeth.

<Flashback>

Countless nights full of feverous dreams and horrific delusions. They all came back, flooding my mind. Memories of that asylum deeply buried were now digging their way back to the surface. I've been here before. I was just a kid when I roamed these halls last time. My grandfather was admitted in this place... He was fighting with Alzheimer's but something else must have been going on in order to be here... This is an asylum for the insane after all. We would visit him during the spring and I can faintly remember the scent of daffodils as if it was dancing around my nose while I was running down these halls... These memories would always end up the same way once I entered the room of my grandfather. Seemingly normal but on a closer look, signs of deterioration all around. From dead flowers to cracked mirrors and even bugs crawling around. This happened every year and I remember that every time he struggled more and more to recognize me. He would tell stories about terrifying witches, fire breathing dragons and castles on snowy mountaintops and even those stories would start to lose meaning the more he kept talking... The words would start colliding and you couldn't understand what he was talking about. I used to have nightmares about these situations and I now believe that's where my fear of getting dementia originates from. After his death I dreamt about some of the other patients, they would visit me in my room at times and they would tell me how my grandfather's torment hasn't stopped... they would tell me he was burning in the pits of hell and that this was my fate as well...they would always grind their teeth as they would enter my room in my dreams..at least I hope it was in my dreams..

<Flashback End>

The grinding sounds were still right behind me. A weird figure in front of me, something on my back, black goo dripping from the ceiling and now a myriad of doors banging on their own right in front of me. I close my eyes trying to think. Instinctively, I form my hands to fists and I punch the thing behind me falling right through it. It was now walking slowly towards me. Its skin seemed burned and its face . . Oh god it was horrific . . It was just skin apart from a mouth with rotten teeth continuously grinding. It was getting too close. Time to use my powers I thought to myself, I punched it once again making it disappear. "Take the hint asshole" I said and I looked at my fists . . Dark vines all around them, so that's how I can defend myself. I begun walking, the doors all stopped moving at once and the figure in the end of the corridor was now gone . . Finally, some silence.

I kept traversing through the asylum slowly going to higher floors. Weird thing would happen but not too unexpected for this place . . Shadows, screams, the occasional teeth grinding from far far away and doors opening and closing by themselves.

"Sir" I heard a child's voice coming from behind me. I turn around and there he was, a small boy wearing old, almost torn, clothes. "Sir can you help me?" he continued hesitantly. "Hello little dude, what do you need?" I replied, slowly approaching him. "M-My ball . . It's in a room and i'm afraid to go get it." he said looking at the ground. "Hm how about we make a deal, I'll go get you ball and you can tell me if you've seen a girl with white hair and some people wearing black bed sheets, what do you say?" I asked with a reassuring smile. "Deal!" he answered and giggled. "Amazing, so where is that room?" I continued. "Well, it's that one." he replied as he pointed at the end of the hallway. I walked up to the door and a sign was above it saying "ARCHIVES", the door was locked, how do you lose a ball in a locked room I thought to myself. I pushed it and the lock broke immediately revealing the room. You couldn't see much, the only light was coming from the one window of the room, really made me appreciate how surprisingly well lit was the rest of the asylum. I saw the ball at the corner of the room and I went there to pick it up but as my eyes were adjusting to the lighting my blood ran cold. My name . . . my name was written on every wall and ceiling of the room. I picked up the ball and I almost flew out of this room . . Too creepy for my tastes. I started walking and my 'employer' was nowhere in sight. "Hey kid!" I yelled and suddenly he replied behind me, "Yes?" he said. "Okay, I found your ball, tell me about the girl and the people with the bed sheets and it's all yours" I said. "I thought I saw the girl coming here a few nights ago and going to the amphitheater at the top floor but i'm not sure. But, I've seen the bed sheet people hanging out on the top floor the past couple of days." he replied with a smile, never taking his eyes of the ball. "You have been so helpful so here's your ball" I said while handing him the ball, "how did it get in there though?" I continued. "I have no idea" he replied and he grabbed it off of my hand. "Alrighty then, nice meeting you" I said while nodding. "Thanks for the help" he replied. I turned around and I started walking towards the stairs. "Oh yeah, I forgot, do you want me to help you get out of this place?" I said, turning around to face him and he was already gone.

"What the fuck" I said out loud and I started looking for him. A few minutes passed and still no sign, I returned to the archives to take a look and the ball was once again there. I went to pick it up and I noticed that there was another corridor in the archives room. I followed it and at its end I saw the skeleton of a small child with the same clothes my little pal wore. "Oh God" I said silently as the realization hit me. The door closed suddenly and the faceless thing from earlier started emerging from the wall behind the skeleton. I ran but the door was somehow locked again and this time it wouldn't break open. "It's rude to ran away from a lady" the thing said while grinding its teeth. "Fucker if you're a lady i'm turning gay" I sassed while trying to find a way out. I saw a vent and I started climbing on top of some shelves to reach it. I broke open the vent and suddenly while I was climbing inside I couldn't keep moving. "You're not getting away" the thing screeched and grabbed my leg with its slimy arm. I struggled to break free but I couldn't and in the meantime, it kept climbing. Its head emerged and at that moment summoned the vines around my fists and I punched it throwing it on the other side of the room. "I'm not disappearing this time hehe" it said laughing while spilling something white from its mouth . . its blood I assumed. "Do what you want, I'm getting the hell out" I replied while I was dragging myself through the vents.

I heard some weird sounds in the vents and they became more prominent as time passed. "Oh oh" I said and the vents broke down making me hit the floor fave first. I've been through worse I thought to myself and I started running up the stairs to the top floor.

"Time to power up" I said and I summoned my armor along with my sword on my back and my gun on it holster. Harbingers started appearing as I was following the signs to the amphitheater though they would go down way easier than I remembered. The closer I got the more they were and by the time I reached the doors of the room the place was practically crawling with them. I cleared out the place and it was time to see if I had finally found her. I tried to open the doors and as always they wouldn't barge so a kick it is . . . The doors fall down to the floor and I see her, in a chair in the middle of the room just standing there, her eyes turned blank and dozens of harbingers flying around and screaming. I started shooting. That must have done something because she suddenly came to her senses. "You came to get me" she said. "Of course I did" I replied. "Come untie me fast!" she ordered while struggling to get free. "Stay there for a bit, I've got it. Plus if I untie you, you'll have to fight." I continued. "Don't threaten me with a good time" she said smiling. I approached her as I kept shooting and I slashed the chains with my sword, finally the harbingers were almost all gone and I now had some support. The thing came in through the door. "We're not done yet pretty boy" it said and it started approaching. "Damn, she fugly" said Circe. "She?!?!?!" I asked. "How did you know it's a 'she' I continued. "Follow me and I'll tell you as we're escaping" she said and she started running to the roof door. "Well, that's a vengeful spirit and an ugly one at that, basically if their skin seems like it's melting it's a female." she continued as she was kicking the roof door. "Such a smart lady" the thing said, now closing distance fast. The roof door broke down and we were outside . . . The thing was right behind us so we run to the edges. It slowly kept approaching. "You haven't seen what I can do yet" it said and smiled with that horrid rotten teeth. Circe ripped a piece of her shirt and she placed it inside my armor. "We jump on 3" she said. "I'm sorry what, this place is 6 floors tall and-" I continued but she interrupted me, "THREE!" she yelled and she dragged me down with her.

She muttered something while we were falling down and somehow we were safe. "WE COULD HAVE DIED YOU PSYCHO" I screamed at her. "But unfortunately you didn't" said a familiar voice. Smoke came from the roof and danced around the figure that was standing at the entrance of the asylum eventually materializing into the spirit. The figure stepped forward and he was Damien. "Why are you still on our trail" Circe asked with a disappointed tone. "A job is a job love and I have to finish it" he replied with a grim smile. "Let us go and let's put this behind us" Circe continued. "Hell no" I said. "He fucked with us again but this time i'm so much more powerful" I continued. "Aiden stop" said Circe. "Aiden keep going" said Damien. "You indeed have become more powerful" he continued. "And how would you know that?" I asked holding my gun tightly. "Well I've been watching you of course. Not me exactly but my friend Proxy here . . I believe you've met" he said. "Of course that's your friend" I replied. "Aiden, please let's go" said Circe but I couldn't let him go unpunished, let's not forget I now have a really powerful weapon ready to test on him. I drew my sword but his expression was indifferent. I started running my hand across it revealing its new form

. . he smiled and raised his eyebrow. "AIDEN STOP NOW" Circe screamed as the sword was taking form once again. I decided to shoot some energy straight to him but something felt...off. The beam left the sword as Circe was screaming "NO". It all happened so fast. The beam hit him but it did no damage, instead it came straight back to my sword. Circe just started running away. Damien raised his hand and I couldn't move a muscle. "You see I have some tricks of my own" he said. He started approaching. I couldn't do anything. "You see, you have indeed become more powerful but I still played you like a pawn" he said while he drew a pitch black knife. I could only watch. "Once I'm done with you my next target is her." he whispered in my ear and anxiety filled my body, I hoped he was talking about Circe . . I didn't want to think of the alternative. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. He took a the lighter and lit a cigarette. "It feels nice having you as my plaything" he said as he touched the lit cigarette on my face. "What wasted potential" he uttered and he slowly forced the knife into my throat.

I could taste my blood. Everything was turning dark. Hope started slipping through my fingers.