#scream? do i need to let inside become external somehow?

[hexagonhexagons]

Everything is too nosiy but I need the music to envelop me

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 4

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @nicolewoo , @bayley-no-friends , @lilred91 , @auawdo , @lustyromantic

Notes: Where is this going to?...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I walk from Matt’s office to my desk in utter shock.

*What the hell is going on?* Is all I can think about. What seemed to be the opportunity of a life time (career wise) is becoming a true nightmare. One I couldn’t wait to wake up.

“Hey, kid! My office, NOW!” Jeffrey screamed

*Oh God, that’s all I needed right now*

“Yes, Jeffrey?” I reluctantly asked

He urgently closed and locked his office’s door

“Why did you locked the door?” I ask suspicious

He ignored me and motions for me to sit down. He was so nervous that it would be irrelevant to try to do anything but obey him.

“Happy?” I said bitterly

“Did you knew I was being tracked?” He whispered

“What do you mean?”

“Someone wiretapped my house!”

“Wait, wait. What? Are you serious Jeffrey?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you, kid?” He angrily whispered

“Why would someone wiretap you?”

“How the fuck would I know? The only thing I know is that it came from the Bureau”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we are the only ones who use that type of technology. You can’t find that shit on the streets! Which makes me think why the fuck is somebody from this building minding my business?”He whispered screamed again

“Ok, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down! You’re little temper is not helping me to think at all. And you’re practically demonstrating to the person who did that, that you know about the wire. So take a deep breath, old man” I whispered and in an attempt to calm himself down, Jeffrey lit up a cigarette.

“Alright, where did you found the wiretap?”

“On the cable modem. We leave it at the leaving room”

“Ok, have you had any problems with your internet signal?”

“No. Why?”

“Sometimes in order to place a wire inside the house, they cause an external problem in the signal so you’ll call the cable company and someone from investigation will get inside the house to put the wire, pretending to be someone from the cable company” I explained and he gave me a puzzled look

“What?” I ask

“How do you-“

“They did that in New York to catch the Mob bosses. What kind of cop are you Jeffrey that doesn’t know about the biggest take down of the five biggest mob families of New York?” I tease

“I’m getting old, that’s my excuse” He laughs

“So if nobody came to fix anything, they must have came in normally then....has anyone from the Bureau came to your house recently?”

“Oh fuck. Everybody, kid”

“Everybody?”

“Yeah, two weeks ago, remember?”

“Shit, your birthday party” I dropped my head in defeat

“We have at least 30 suspects” He mumble

Something tells me whoever is doing this is trying to put me against Jeffrey so I decided to come clean with him

“Jeff, someone requested for a tracker on Roman Reigns”

“Please tell me you’re shitting me” He murmured “Who signed?”

“Apparently me”

“WHAT?” He screamed

“Shhhhh, someone will hear you!”

“What do you mean with ‘apparently you’?”

“My DEA ID number was in the requested by space”

“And how could someone get that?” He asked

“According to Matt, anyone who’s smart enough. He said is not that difficult, you just need to know where to look” I sighed

“Do you know when it was installed?”

“Yesterday, as I was there. Whoever did it wanted to make sure the timing matched perfectly....My biggest fear is for him to find out before I can remov-“ I was cut off by my phone ringing with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/L/N” Was my greeting

“Good morning, agent Y/L/N.”

*Oh fuck no!* I thought

“Good morning Mr. Reigns, how can I help you?”

“Well, I would like for you to join me for lunch, I have a subject I would like to discuss with you”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. I have a lot of work and-“

“Oh I’m certain your work can wait agent Y/L/N. Since you have some explaining to do”

“I beg your pardon?” I was already preparing myself for what I knew it would be inevitable

Roman laughs amused “Y/N. Did you really thought you could put a tracker on me and I wouldn’t find out? C’mon baby, I thought you were smarter than that!”

“Mr. Reigns, it’s not what you think-“

“I’m not gonna discuss this through a phone call. Be here at noon!” His voice colder than a bucket of ice

He hung up, before I could even protest it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey asked

“He found out and wants me to explain it” I faintly whispered

“Fucking great!” He grunts “Are you gonna go? Do you want me to go with you?”

“I have to go, I got no choice. And no, if I show up there with you is just gonna make things worst”

He nods “What are you going to do, kid?”

“Pray Jeff...pray like a fucking nun!”

......................................................................

“There she is! The little sneaky spy” Roman smirked at me “Please, sit” He motions to his office chair. The same one I sat the first time I was there.

“So, are you going to explain to me about this little thing?” He dropped the tracker on my lap

“Mr. Reigns, I know how this looks to you but I can guarantee, I didn’t requested this”

“You didn’t? Then how come is your internal identification number upon the request by line?”

*Of course he knows about that too*

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir”

“So what? You’re not trying to pull up the old trick that somebody is setting you up, right Y/N?”

“I know is hard to believe and if was in your position I would have the same disbelief as you right now, but unfortunately that is the pathetic truth”

“Do you expect me to believe that, agent Y/L/N?” He chuckled

I stare at him, responding “No, Mr. Reigns. I expect you to be reasonable, I would be naïve to think that I could do such an immature move like putting a tracker on you and expect you not to find out about it. As a matter of fact I would be straight up dumb if I thought that, that would ever work. So no I didn’t do it, somebody else did and that’s the reality, now whether you want to believe it or not it’s not my problem” I was taking a big risk talking to him like that, but it was the only thing I could do right now, bluff.

Roman places both of his hands on my thighs, leaning down until our faces are uncomfortably close.

“You play a dangerous game, Y/N. A very, very dangerous game” He licks my bottom lip “But I like that, it turns me on” Roman dragged his nose upon my neck, breathing in my scent

“You turn me on” He whispers in my ear “The things I can see myself doing to you are pure torture because that’s all what they are: imagination, and I want them to become reality. I want to see you spreading your legs for me, I want you in all fours on top of my bed, I want your pretty lips around my cock, I want my face in between your thighs, I want to fuck you in whatever pace I feel like it, I want you to take every inch of my cock, I wanna feel you stretching around me baby, moaning for me to go deeper and harder”

This man...The things he says, his voice so deep, his cologne filling up my nostrils and intoxicating me on his scent, on him.

“Roman” I whispered, but he continued

“You know there’s a chemistry between us, I know you can feel it too babygirl, so why hide it? Why suppress it, when we can put this stamina to good use, baby? I want it, you want it, it’s a simple math”

“That wouldn’t be very professional, I’m afraid” I mumbled

He leans back to look me in the eyes

“The tracker isn’t very professional as well is it?”

“I already told you it wasn’t me”

“And do you think a judge in court will care? There’s your personal DEA number in there, a number that technically only you have access to it and as far as I’m concerned that little tracker would be considered an invasion of privacy, I could sue not only you but the DEA for that. I mean, I signed an official document allowing you to search for anything you want in my professional life, not on my personal one and that tracker was installed on one of my private cars. Do you see my point, Y/N?”

“You want me to fuck you in order for you to keep your mouth shut” I angrily murmured

“Well, biologically speaking I would be the one to fuck you not the other way around” He smirked

“You’re so low, Roman” I spat

“Roman? No more formalities I see, I like that” He smiled

“Not happening” I shake my head vigorously

“What? Do you find me so repugnant that the thought of sleeping with me is that horrifying?” He asked amused

“It’s not that-“

“Oh, so you do find me attractive?” He asks pretending to be surprised

“Modesty doesn’t suits you, Mr. Reigns” I mocked

“So what is it?”

“If I do it, it’s gonna be like signing my guilty sentence. I would be screwing you to somehow make me innocent” I answered

Roman pulled me up from the chair, hugged my waist resting his hands mere inches from my ass.

“No baby, screwing me would be the equivalent to not getting fired, not having a billionaire lawsuit filled against you and not spending the rest of your life in prison” He smiled, now caressing my butt cheeks

“So babygirl, what’s gonna be?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

[wisteria-lodge]

Character Analysis: Sorting Castiel

courtesy of the @sortinghatchats​ system.

LION PRIMARY - Sense of morality and ethics comes from inside. Things just feel right or they feel wrong.

First things first. I completely get why people are saying that Cas has to be a Snake primary with his morality and motivations bound up in the well-being of Dean Winchester. His whole love confession was very Snake-flavored - “I cared about the whole world because of you” - such a Snake thing to say. And we know (from a couple alternate-universe Castiels) that Dean is the reason he tore up his entire life and rebelled against Heaven. So far so Snake.

But I want to talk about one of those other Castiels for a second. Apocalypse!Cas (with the Slavic accent) is loyal to Heaven, sure. But he’s also... not doing great. This Cas is twitchy, stuttering, he’s got about 15 facial tics. He looks like he’s gone half mad. He is not the cold, detached, selfish and hyper-capable Burnt Snake I would expect in that situation (*cough* Soulless!Sam). That’s a Cas who on some deep level knows he’s doing wrong, and cares.

The way I see it, sure Dean may have pushed him over the edge, but Cas was already doubting. Even back in Season 4 he’s telling us, “I’m not a hammer. I have doubts,” and making cynical little asides like, “they don’t tell me much.” Heaven has a very strict Badger primary culture, and “crack in his chassis” Cas knows he doesn’t really fit.

Dean quickly becomes the most important thing Cas’ life because he represents a way out: another group to join, another set of values. Dean is a Badger (like the angels) but a softer Badger, one Cas has an easier time agreeing with. Dean’s even the prophesied “Righteous Man” which means his morality comes pre-approved by God. He becomes Cas’ replacement Heaven, his commanding officer. Dean’s coping mechanisms and mission statements become Cas’ coping mechanisms and mission statements. Castiel tries to be part of the world though him.

But it doesn’t work. Because Cas is not a Badger, no matter how hard he tries to be. The first time we see him truly angry is also the first time he sees Dean as morally flawed. Cas beats him up, yelling, “I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them? I gave everything for you. And this this what you give to me?”  

He’s doing what a lot of Burned Lions do, looking for an external conscience that gels perfectly with their own felt morals. And then getting angry when that person turns out to be fallible. Cas goes on a quest to find God (ie morality/goodness/meaning) using Dean’s necklace as a guide. Then when he fails to find God, he acts like it’s Dean who has betrayed him.

So Castiel starts down the Path of the Unhealthy Lion Primary. He declares himself the new God (the most extreme version of Exploded Lion possible.) And when that doesn’t work, goes insane for a while. He gets amnesia, hears Leviathan voices in his head, actually spends time in a mental hospital. It’s a dramatic way of talking about a Lion primary who has no idea what their internal voice is saying anymore. The whole Naomi arc just underlines this one more time: Cas doesn’t know what he’s doing, because he is controlled by Heaven. So he needs to to break though his brainwashing and find his internal sense of rightness.

I’m also thinking Lion primary because in order to heal, Cas has to go off by himself, get internal, and just sit with his thoughts. That’s what he does alone in Purgatory and through a lot of his “becoming human” and “hiding the tablets” arcs. The most dramatic example is when he dies for the fifth time and is stuck talking to the Empty’s Personification (who happens to sound a whole lot like Apocalypse!Cas...) 

"I'm already saved. You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. And fight you and fight you forever. For eternity."

This is the moment when he plants his feet, stares down impossible odds and goes No. You move. Cas has gone deep, found his meaning, found that inner voice that will keep him going - and keep him stable - and he will never let it be taken from him again. He’s become the heroic Lion primary.

And that’s the context a lot of metas are missing when they talk about Cas ending up in the Empty during Season 15. The Empty is a place of great strength for Cas. So during his confession when he says, “happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it,” what he’s saying that he’s complete in himself, without Dean. In that moment, Cas becomes somebody who doesn’t need to follow anyone anymore. And if Cas wanted to have a relationship with Dean after that, well, he’d be in a good enough headspace to do it.

BADGER SECONDARY - fair, hardworking, shows up. Good at getting people to trust them, good at getting people to help them. If they see a locked door, they knock. 

This is definitely how Cas problem-solves. He makes himself part of groups, and once he’s there he takes on support roles and caretakes. Sometimes he lays on the tough love a little harsh, and can seem kind of direct-Lion-secondary flavored. But I don’t think Cas even has a Lion secondary model. It’s just his loud primary shining through. There is a cleanness and straightforwardness to Cas’ methods that is important to him as a character, and makes him a nice contrast to the Winchesters, who model everything.

In the later seasons, after he gets a little healthier, Cas starts to build his own family (Kelly and Jack to start.) But even when he goes dark, he goes dark like a Badger – Cas the blackmailer, Cas the interrogator.

He builds things a little bit at a time. That’s how we saw him learn to be human. He’s inspirational and effortlessly attracts allies. Dean responds well to those Badger secondary you’re safe with me vibes. And even Cas’ idea of how to deal with Empty on his his dark night of the soul is so, so Badger: I will sit here, and keep at it, and argue with you forever.

tl;dr

LION PRIMARY that is first burnt, then exploded, then burnt again, then healed / BADGER SECONDARY

[florbelles]

L Y R A + vowels? ❤

ty lovely!! xx content warning for lyra-typical content ( torture, violence, sex, death, her standard bullshit ). unavoidable angst on the y despite the titular fluff asks because this is the hell that i’m always living in.

A CTIVITIES. what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time with them?

— torturing nonbelievers, killing the unworthy, fucking in the blood of sinners ( sin can only be cleansed with blood, they say; blood cleanses all, they say; not all, sayeth shaggy, stage left with the mop ), watching each other work, seedsplaining their life stories to heretics, monologuing like they’re on a helium inhale, tormenting shaggy, never shutting the fuck up, making the flock at large crave the release of seven years in a bunker apart from them, laughing at their mediocre-to-terrible jokes they believe are terribly witty, causing joseph immeasurable pain in behaving reprehensibly during sermons when he’s too occupied to give them the Look of Discontent.

in all seriousness, the main thing she does with her husband that she can with absolutely no one else is nothing at all. the closest thing they have to an off switch is with each other. look at them, nuzzling in the rocking chair on the porch. look how in love they are. they might be anyone. they might be entirely unburdened of who and what they are. they might simply exist, for a moment. they might simply be happy. how sweet. do not look too closely at the blood drying under her claws. do not listen too closely to the sounds from the shed. do not try to identify that lingering scent emanating from the fire pit; surely it’s only the hickory.

E QUAL. are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

— neither; lyra could never be in a partnership with someone she does not consider her equal in every respect. all her life she assumed she would be alone precisely because she knows what she is; she would never ask anyone to be in that position. she would never ask someone to live at a disadvantage. she would never want to be with someone who could not know the worst of it and choose her anyway. she needs someone who can keep up with her and can keep her on her toes. she needs someone who’s like her, who sees her, who understands her, who can meet her at her level. she truly needs her match; she would never accept anything less, for the sake of both her interest and her comfort level.

I NSPIRATION. did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

— on the contrary, they both hold the belief that everything they've been through and done and become has led them to this point ; they were meant for this, they were meant for each other, but they have already become who they need to be by the time their paths cross. everything led them to here, to each other, and for that, they can forgive the world nearly anything. 

they don't alter each other, they don’t seek to, but they do bring out the extremes in the other; they fuel each other's fanaticism, messianic complexes, sadism, all of it. they indulge each other. they love each other completely, as they are, even the worst parts. perhaps especially those. 

it might be said they temper the others’ self-destructive propensities, to an extent. she is perhaps more cautious because of him; she will never be truly cautious — not even he can give her impulse control or self-preservation instincts — but she is no longer quite so as expendable; there will be ramifications for someone who is not herself if she dies. she is no longer simply another damned soul, preying on the predators until she herself is slain. ( she has met her match, he did not slay her, he loved her instead; that was far more terrifying ). she is monstrous, but she is the monster he loves. she is nothing instead, but she is something also. ( lyra is obviously no longer at war with herself after finding her purpose in her the project, which is a fairly fundamental shift, but that can’t be attributed to john; she would have joined the project with or without him ).

of course loving him changes things, not in who she is, but in how it’s externalized ( this is how he saves her; all of her rage, all of her wrath, all of the passion and intensity and emotion and impulse that brews inside her, all of it is poured into loving him ). theirs is an obsessive, all-consuming, codependent love, and while being with him means she is wanted and loved and accepted and happy and at home for the first time in her life — and of course that changes things, of course it does, she is no longer afraid of herself, she is no longer consumed with loathing for what she is, because perhaps she is a monster, but god must love her, must, must, she must have done right, because go brought her here, god gave her him — but this also means that losing him leaves a truly irreparable void.

O N CLOUD NINE. what are they like when they are in love? is it obvious for others? how do they express their feelings?

— terrified. agonized. as giddy as a schoolgirl. she is deliriously, excruciatingly, passionately in love, or not at all; it’s everything or it’s nothing. ( she’s poor at expressing it with words. words she grew up with. words are so easily misunderstood. words are so easily fabricated. she cannot say she loves him. the words feel too weak. she is afraid they will rot in her mouth. she is afraid they will be as empty as every other time she heard it in her life. such a stupid word. such a small, stupid word ). nonetheless, it’s obvious, blindingly so, even from external observation; she lights up; she flushes; her heart still lurches when she sees him. she still feels drunk with it. she always will.

lyra’s love is ultimately something she demonstrates through acts, with sweat and tears and blood. she proves it with her body; physical intimacy is the only kind of intimacy she knows how to express. ( forgive me; i know only how to love violently ). she proves it with a simple, i see you: i know you; i am going to let you see me. i am going to let you know me.

she does not say i love you. she says i chose you, and he knows what it means.

she drops into warm familiarity; her enemies are greeted with “hello, darling,” her husband gets a simple “hi, john.” she does not mask her soft, light voice. she curls around him when he sleeps to feel the blood beating through his veins and his breath on her neck. she murmurs insensibly to him. she willingly surrenders all of her defenses.

( they could kill each other. they could destroy each other. they have always known this. they have always known what they are ).

she decides she’s going to let him.

U NDERSTANDING. how well do they know their partner? are they empathetic?

— she knows him better than anyone. she knows him immediately. she sees him. she recognizes him. she understands him. that’s all she’s ever wanted, to have that with someone. for them to know her. she wouldn’t even asked to be loved; she knows how much that asks. but yes. she does. he’s her own heart; whatever he feels, she does.

Y EARNING. how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

— she simply does not.

her separation anxieties with john go deeper than simply missing him because of the fact that joseph insists that, if he should die young, he dies alone, so whenever she is parted from him for any substantial amount of time and he is left alone she is actually, physically crippled. she was separated from him once for five days at the beginning of the reaping; she couldn’t keep anything down. she couldn’t sleep. mary may found her crawling on the floor of the spread eagle dry heaving on the second day, and it was downhill from there.

she’s entirely comatose immediately following his death; she shows little improvement for months. she wears nothing but his trench; she won’t wash because his blood dried on her skin before the end of everything, because she’ll never have him inside her again and she can’t scrub him away, because she can’t move, because she can’t swallow or scream and her insides have run too dry to swallow or cry or blink. ( it’s entirely possible she never would have functioned again, had joseph not told her the voice returned to him; he had almost given up on her survival by then; surely there was little human left in her ).

she might externally be more or less restored to her former self after that, but the truth is that she never recovers, not really; she slips out to his grave every night and sleeps with her fingers buried in the dirt. she talks to him, sometimes, or hums, or sings, even though he’s not there, even though she can’t feel him. all her life she’s played roles, and she plays herself exceptionally well, but a fundamental part of herself died with him. she is playing someone who no longer exists. she is a phantom. the new world is her purgatory.

( he is her whole heart, don’t forget. )

she watches it ripped from her chest.

she keeps breathing.

she bleeds out for seventeen years.

she still counts herself the happiest woman who lived.

[forestwater87]

(first apologies if this is a duplicate; I got a "bad request" notification the first time I tried to send this ask) but anyhow; I saw your tags on my Lucretia post and i am not sure how to reply to tags?? but i want to see your version of that scene! (if you still want to share) I love Lucretia very much and love to see other peoples' takes on her. anyway, I hope you are having a good day!

OH MY GOD YAY!! 

I mean, cool, whatever. I guess I could share a little bit of that fic. That’s fine.

(yayayayayayayay eeeeeeeeeee)

Okay, part of me wanted to blast you with the entire chapter, but that’s 25-ish pages so I’m forcing myself to show restraint here and only include the tail end. There’s a little bit of context missing, because it’s the last section of Chapter 10 of a fic that so far has at least 32 chapters, but I think it all makes sense. It’s basically just “here’s what happened in that cycle when everybody else was a statue person” and it was, you know, not a good time. (There’s some implied Magcretia, sorry not sorry.) 

Plus it’s really good. I know that sounds arrogant, but I’ve spent the last 4-5 years hating every word I’ve ever written, and I’m going to enjoy this confidence for as long as it chooses to stay.

So anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

There are no line breaks on tumblr anymore so this is the part where the actual writing starts:

When the Hunger arrived, it was a relief more than anything.

Lucretia had been in the middle of defending The Starblaster from a group of marauders climbing like ants all over the dented and hastily-repaired sides of the ship, trying to figure out if she could possibly shake them all free without having to resort to the magic she’d deduced made it possible for the court to find her, when the sky turned dark and everything went gray. 

And her first thought was, Oh thank Pan. (She wasn’t a religious person at all, but enough time with Merle had made the casual prayers second nature.) This nightmare was almost over. In less than an hour, she’d have her family back.

She was so close to seeing Magnus again.

“Fisher, get back in your tank!” she shouted, abandoning the shield she’d been summoning and sprinting to the helm — she’d spent so much time this year running for her life that she could race from one end of the ship to the other without becoming winded. None of the marauders had made it onto the deck, but she felt the air above her head crackle with a spell that blazed past, and as she reached the controls she heard the now-familiar amplified voice call, “You are under arrest for multiple counts of evading the authority of the co — what the hell’s going on here?”

Oh, great. All her friends were here. Now all she needed was for the boar and crocodile to make an appearance.

As the officer began to interrogate the marauders (his side of the conversation still blaring loud and clear), Lucretia took advantage of the confusion to throw the ship forward. She’d had enough foresight to keep the way in front of The Starblaster clear for just this purpose, and while a few hundred yards of ash-colored grass were flattened, she was able to get the ship into the air.

She pointed it up, away from the Hunger — up into space, into nothingness, into any universe except this one, somewhere she’d stared at and imagined but now was finally going into . . .

If she could get the damaged, shuddering ship up to speed and break through the atmosphere, that was.

If not, everything ended here.

A tentacle of swirling darkness stabbed into the ground inches away from her ship, forcing her to swerve hard and nearly lose her footing. She threw all her weight on the acceleration as more of the Hunger’s tentacles latched onto the planet, the labored roar of the engines nearly drowning out the screams of panic from the people below.

As The Starblaster rocketed over a shining city with strange statues and up into the sky, a whisper made Lucretia look around — before realizing it had come from inside her own head.

We’ve been looking for you.

She frowned, clutching at the helm even tighter. Was this some sort of new thing the Hunger could do, or one last awful trick played by this hostile planet?

Another whisper, louder and lower-pitched: You’ve been evading judgement for some time now.

A massive column of the Hunger collided with the planet directly in front of her. It was so close, she had no choice but to try and blow through it, even though that meant taking the biggest risk she had all year. But The Starblaster’s momentum was impossible to halt, and the mile-wide column was impossible to go around, so she gritted her teeth, hunched over the controls, and slammed on the accelerator.

The second she crossed into the Hunger, everything went silent and black.

Everything, that was, except for the whispers: 

Lucretia, you have always let others take action and responsibility while you sit back and watch. You tell yourself this is worthwhile, but you know it is a lie. And yet when it is smartest and safest to proceed with caution, you take the most reckless path, because you refuse to admit you might be wrong. Your past sins are sloth, envy, and pride. How do you plead?

How did she plead? She didn’t plead for much of anything, except to survive long enough to fly them into the next cycle. The Hunger buffeted at the ship, wrapping smaller tentacles around its sleek metal body and trying to keep it from plowing forward; it might kill her — kill them all — but not knowing what else to do, she used Mage Hand to open the nearest window without leaving the helm and cast Fire Shield around the ship. It was weak and flickering compared to the spells of protection Merle could create, but the Hunger fell back with deafening shrieks of pain as flames licked the air around The Starblaster. 

The awful whispers weren’t letting up, though, digging cold fingers deep into her mind and sending a chill shudder down through her very soul.

Your present sins are no less grave. You kill without remorse. You have allowed yourself to become vindictive and spiteful. You have not abandoned your past failings, but have added new ones since our initial audit. We see fit to add to your current list of transgressions the crime of wrath. How do you plead?

Suddenly there was a break in the shimmering darkness, a bolt of ash-gray sky widening like a tear in heavy fabric — and then she was through, outside of the Hunger and so far above the doomed planet that she couldn’t see the ground below. She let out a scream of triumph, the noise tearing like sandpaper along her exhausted and dry throat, and angled the ship until it was almost vertical. The Starblaster shot forward as though with one last burst of strength, shuddering as its engines were pushed to the absolute limit . . .

The ship suddenly jolted to a halt, mechanisms whirring like a swarm of angry bees.

Lucretia turned to the still-open window and saw the entire view had been replaced with blackness, oily-iridescent tentacles spilling into the ship as others wrapped around it. She threw all of her weight on the acceleration, but it didn’t move; then, after a single grinding moment, The Starblaster began to fly backward, pulled back toward the core of the Hunger. 

She could hear its gnashing teeth.

“NO!” The word exploded out of her, coming from somewhere far below conscious thought. She abandoned the helm just long enough to run to the window, ignoring the tentacles that curled around her ankles as she pointed her wand at the offshoot of the Hunger that had its hold on her, aiming for where the base met the rest of the massive column, and shot off a burst of lightning. There was another hideous wail and the tentacles around the ship shuddered and pulled away, just a slight loosening of their incredible grip.

Her entire body shaking with terror and fury, she pointed her wand at the same spot and cast Finger of Death. 

The screaming was like a sonic blast — a thousand million voices filled with rage and pain and fear — knocking her onto her back and sending her skidding across the bridge. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling over her robe and lurching to the helm. The sound of the engines returning to full blast was like the roar of a furious animal loosed from its cage, and the last of the Hunger fell back as the ship threw itself up into space. It felt like the air was shouting with every conceivable emotion.

As the panic subsided and her head cleared, she realized it wasn’t the air screaming; it was those whisperers.

So much rage. So much wrath.

No remorse.

No different than the monster she tries to flee.

They were growing louder with every word, overlapping and running together until she struggled to pick out individual phrases —

She betrays the people she supposedly loves most

She destroys a family — destroys the memory of the family

Robs them of themselves

Who has the right?

No one has the right

The sound was becoming unbearable, deafening. Her ears felt like they were leaking; she lifted her hand to one and her fingers came back covered in blood.

It didn’t make sense — it wasn’t an external sound — it wasn’t an external force, but something ripping her apart from within.

It was the sound of going mad. 

At that point she was barely able to understand anything 

leaves him to die in agony in a hell she helped create

takes advantage of the innocent who make the mistake of believing in her

such a sweet boy, and all you do is lie to him

do you think you can make these decisions for the world?

the heartbreak you will cause

the betrayal

pride — such unfathomable pride

the deaths you will cause

the lives you will ruin

the blood that stains your hands

coldhearted — cowardly

wrath — envy — sloth

pride

PRIDE

Our judgement is decided.

You have been found wanting.

Something hardened in her chest, calcifying her lungs and making it impossible to breathe. Lucretia doubled over, her hands scrabbling to keep the ship moving, as her flesh turned hard, brittle, the feeling like casting Stone Skin but somehow it’d gotten inside . . .

She couldn’t move her tongue. She couldn’t breathe. Blackness crowded the edge of her vision — not like she was blacking out, but like her eyes just suddenly weren’t there anymore

everything went wobbly, the universe becoming untethered just for a moment

And when it stabilized, she realized she could move again, see again. She took a deep, tremulous breath and turned back from the helm, sliding to the floor in a heap.

It was less than a second, before the I.P.R.E. crew fully materialized, but she didn’t see it happen. As soon as the surreal, smoky outlines of her friends wavered into being, she dropped her head in her hands, a sob she’d been holding back for months finally escaping her throat.

She did it.

Magnus’s hands closed around her upper arms and he gently tugged her into an embrace. She could feel the cool steel of the bridge under her knees, heard the voices of all her friends speaking all at once. She was dimly aware she was talking, mumbling nonsense to herself as she waited for the world to stop spinning.

The last thing she was aware of before slipping into unconsciousness was Magnus’s breath on her forehead and his warm fingers combing through her hair.

[echo-bleu]

no one ever said it would be this hard

For @moonlight-breeze-44 Happy birthday Em!! I hope you like this. I made it all angsty and painful for you 💙

I've been wanting to write Alec breaking down after breaking up with Magnus for a good while, and this was a great opportunity. This is part of my map out a world series (though there's no need to read the other parts first as it's mostly canon compliant), but it can reasonably be read as a prequel to take me back to the start, too. Hence the Coldplay title.

Huge thanks to my amazing beta @jeanboulet who edited this super fast and helped me figure out a title.

[self-harm, self-injurious stims, meltdown, blood, dissociation]

Read on AO3.

It should be raining, or something. There should be some kind of external sign that the world has just turned on its axis. The night shouldn’t be this… normal.

Alec runs back to the Institute on autopilot. He doesn’t even realize that he’s forgotten to activate his speed rune until he arrives, panting, at the front doors. He runs fast enough to make his lungs burn, because it prevents him from crying all the tears in his body. He shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

It doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make it feel any less like his whole world just ended.

Maybe because it did.

“Alec!”

He’s assaulted by Izzy as soon as he steps inside. He doesn’t even have time to take his hand off the handle of the door before she’s in his space, shouting. Something about Jonathan. Something about Clary. Something—

Wait. He didn’t follow any of that, but something clicks in his mind. He felt pain in the parabatai bond, before. He didn’t really feel it, with how fucking tense he was, but he noted it in a corner of his mind somehow. Jace is hurt. Izzy is panicked. Clary is… missing, if what his brain is parsing together is right. Jonathan is gone.

Fuck.

Alec pushes it all away. He knows how to do it, how to switch to soldier mode. Dissociate his feelings from his actions, make his body and his brain do what needs to be done. He’s always known. It was the first thing he learned, long before the Academy, long before formal training. He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them again, there is nothing but complete clarity.

As long as he holds on tight.

He takes Izzy by the shoulders. “Tell me again.”

“Jonathan got into Clary’s head!” Izzy shouts again, too loud in his ears, like she can’t control the level of her voice in her panic. Alec doesn’t wince. He doesn’t feel pain the same way, when he does this.

It’s useful. He can just hold her tighter and get the whole story out of her, how Clary knocked Jace out and freed Jonathan. “They’re gone.”

“Okay,” Alec murmurs, for Izzy’s benefit. “Okay. Calm down. We need to secure the premises.”

“Already done, sir,” Underhill comes behind Izzy. “No sign of them. We have a Seelie knight dead in the observation cell. Three dead guards.”

Alec tightens his fists, remembering just in time to let go of Izzy first. He doesn’t feel his nails digging into his palms. He doesn’t feel his phone buzzing in his pocket with the Institute-wide alert. He doesn’t feel.

It’s a good thing.

“Izzy, go find Jace,” he orders. “Underhill, I need a full sweep. Where’s Jens?”

Underhill points to the Ops table, beside which Jens is talking on the phone. Izzy shakes herself – she’s no stranger to obeying orders, either – and she jogs away. Alec doesn’t bother tracking where she’s going. He knows he’s operating on limited bandwidth, limited energy. He has to rely on his subordinates.

“I’ve informed the Clave,” Jens says over the noise of the ops center as soon as he hangs up his phone.

Alec walks up to him, Underhill on his heels.

“Sir,” Underhill starts, agitated. “Won’t they—”

“They will, but we can’t do without it now,” Alec says. “I assume they’re reinstating the kill order?”

“Yes,” Jens confirms. “We have orders to put all our available teams on it, and they will send additional ones in the morning.”

Alec places his hands flat on the edge of the table, and takes strength from the pressure for a second. “Brief the teams. Capture, don’t kill. I’ll handle the Clave.”

Underhill nods at his dismissal and walks away, but Jens lingers. Alec grits his teeth. There’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, and he can’t let go now.

“Alec, is everything alright?” Jens asks – not softly, not exactly, but he can see what no one else notices. He’s known Alec forever. He’s known Alec better than his own siblings for years.

“I can’t do this now,” Alec responds honestly. He can barely make himself speak out loud.

“The Clave is handled for now,” Jens answers. He’s switching almost automatically to trying to relieve Alec of as many duties as possible, like well-oiled machinery. He knows exactly when to push Alec, and when to hold back. He knows that Alec can’t handle more pressure now. “They’ll call if they need more intel. Paperwork can wait.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” Alec says. Maybe he won’t be able to handle it later.

“It will,” Jens asserts. “Go to your siblings. I can hold the fort.”

Alec sighs. He can’t slip now. He nods at Jens and grips the edges of the table tighter.

Jace, Izzy and Simon, his presence almost incongruous, stride up on the catwalk at that moment. “Alec!”

Alec moves like he’s in a sea of treacle. Every muscle in his body is tenser than a guitar string. It must be visible, because Izzy gives him a look of concern. Or maybe she suspects what he abandoned them for.

Fuck. He was supposed to be there with them. If he had been, maybe—

It almost makes him crumble. He stumbles, just barely, and pulls his control back tighter. They have a whole conversation around him about the Clave’s orders and the Heavenly Fire serum, and Alec is sure that he participates in some way, but he would be hard-pressed to say how.

He’s entirely unsure of what happens for the rest of the night. Or the next day. He doesn’t have a single second to himself to reflect on things, and it’s good. He’s fairly sure that he allows Jace desperate measures that he would have never signed on otherwise, but, well, Jace needs to get Clary back. One of them needs to end this with their heart intact.

There’s one moment, during the day, when Jace asks about Magnus. Alec nearly crumples just at hearing his name. “Sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to.” He hears the words coming out of his mouth like he’s far away, in another world, another universe. There’s a version of him that enunciates them, and Alec has lost track which. Alec the Clave soldier doesn’t have room for any of that. And he’s closed the door on any other part of him.

He falters for one moment, and as soon as Jace leaves his office, he activates half the runes on his body, just to anchor himself on the rush of energy. Stamina. He hasn’t slept in almost three days. Strength. His body feels like jelly. Calm Anger. It pushes everything back down.

And if he abuses them, well, no one else needs to know.

*

He’s sitting on his bed when his siblings find him. It must have been, what, six hours since Jace was thrown back through a portal into the Institute? He’s frozen, afraid that if he moves an inch, he’ll shatter into pieces.

He hasn’t moved for hours. He’s sitting with his back perfectly straight, his feet flat on the ground, still fully dressed in patrol gear, long past the time when the position should have become uncomfortable – but he can’t even feel it. His hands are clasped together, too tight, his knuckles white with the effort. Stuck.

He doesn’t move when Izzy and Jace knock, and at his lack of answer, they slip inside. He can’t look up at them, he can’t react. He clenches his jaw hard and tries not to fall apart.

“Alec,” Izzy calls quietly, passing through his field of vision. She disappears briefly and reappears kneeling beside him, just shy of touching him. Alec wants to jerk out of the way, but his body doesn’t obey.

“Alec, you’re feeling really awful, buddy,” Jace says, crouching on the other side.

Alec breathes carefully, evenly, as he has for hours, until there’s a hitch. His breathing goes out of sync with his brain, with his locked down body, and it crumbles. He falls apart.

He crumples in on himself, chin reaching his knees as he curls up, gasping. He digs his thumbs into his forehead and, when that doesn’t work, he stuffs his fingers into his mouth and bites down hard. He slips off the bed and falls onto the floor, and the pain of hitting his back against the bed frame doesn’t even register as he starts to rock back and forth.

“Alec!” Izzy reacts. But she doesn’t try to touch him. She knows if won’t go over well.

Jace doesn’t have the same compulsion, not when Alec’s fingers are still in his mouth and he’s tasting iron. Blood. “Alec, you have to stop,” he tries. He approaches his hand to pull on Alec’s forearm, but as soon as their skins touch, Alec lets out a strangled cry and backs away, into the bed frame, then brutally onto the bed, until he’s backed up against the headboard.

Fuck. The urge to hit his head to dull the agony is irresistible, and it makes a thud as pain erupts under his scalp. He hears, vaguely, his siblings trying to stop him verbally, but nothing is coming through anymore. He screams silently, mouth open in agony, as his head hits the wall again and again.

“Alec.” Izzy is crying now. Alec thinks distantly that she’s never seen him this bad, not since they were little kids and she didn’t have to handle him. He’s long learned to hide his meltdowns, to shutdown instead, like he’s done for most of today – yesterday. Dissociate until there’s nothing left of him.

This time, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, because nothing is enough.

He’s been able to stay numb for twenty-eight hours, since he closed the door of his mother’s shop and left Magnus inside. He’s been—

Magnus.

Fuck.

He pulls at his hair, hard enough to uproot it. Nothing is enough. His skin is too tight for the pain bubbling inside of him, and he’s exploding, losing all control. He’s a giant knot, muscles taut and burning from staying so tense all day, runes overworked and overloaded.

His eyes stay dry, even as he craves the relief of crying. “Alec,” someone murmurs – he doesn’t know who anymore. “Shhhhh. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. There’s no such thing as okay, now, not without—

His chest feels like a hole has been punched through it, and it’s been filled with self-expanding foam. He sobs without a noise, his shoulders shaking and his whole body trembling.

Suddenly, there’s a warm body against him, and for a moment, Alec is about to throw it off, to react violently against the unbearable touch. He resists, but the arms around him tighten until it almost smothers him — paradoxically, that calms him down. Jace holds him and rocks with him and slowly, very slowly, Alec settles.

The tears don’t come until Izzy’s smaller hands reach him, first checking him for injuries, then soothing him, running over his shoulders and his neck, always strong and tight. Alec hiccups and almost throws up, but he hasn’t eaten in too long. He dry heaves instead, coughing without breathing, gasping until his eyes water and finally he’s sobbing fully.

He hears Jace’s voice in between painful hiccups. “Izzy told me what happened. How do we help?”

Alec shakes his head when he’s finally parsed the sentence, probably too late for it to make sense. There’s nothing they can do, and Alec has no words in him to tell them. It’s over. Magnus is gone. Gone from his life, forever.

The sobs redouble, and Alec heaves over the arm holding him up, probably Jace’s. His chest is on fire, but it feels right. It should hurt. It should be so painful as to be unbearable, because that’s what it feels like inside.

There’s already a Magnus-shaped hole inside him, and it’s only going to grow deeper and larger. Alec wonders, vaguely, how long he has until it swallows him whole.

*

It feels like hours before his sobs subside, leaving him breathless and listless, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Alec gradually slides down until he’s curled up on his side on the bed, his head on the pillow Magnus slept on just two days ago.

Jace and Izzy move with him, refusing to let him go. They scoot over until they’re framing him, Jace curled against his back and Izzy in front of him, one hand cupping his wrist. Alec lets himself soak up their warmth as he starts shivering.

He doesn’t stop crying in one go. He keeps seeing flashes of Magnus, and it only takes a half-formed thought to start again, the sobs wracking his body. It’s less violent every time, though, and after a while it only extracts a pitiful hiccup from him, his tears long dried out. Jace and Izzy keep holding him silently, though Alec can feel the looks they exchange over his shoulder.

“Alec,” Jace murmurs after a long time. “Was there really no other way?”

Alec struggles to focus his gaze on something – Izzy’s hand on his wrist, in this case – and he wets his lips several times without managing to speak. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay if you can’t speak right now,” Izzy whispers. “We’re here for you.”

Alec nods gratefully. She’s only recently learned to do this, to recognize when he’s struggling to form words. None of his family ever caught on – his siblings used to laugh at him, when he struggled with seemingly simple things. His parents would shake him and force him to hide it.

Magnus was the first one to understand.

Magnus was the first one to see Alec. The first one to love him for who he is, and not for the image of Alec he had in his mind. And Alec ruined it, over and over. He betrayed Magnus and let him suffer because of his actions.

He brought Magnus nothing but pain.

He tastes ashes. His mouth feels dry, parched by a thirst that will never be quenched again. He hurts all over from tensing so much, but it feels like a too small punishment for his sins.

“I can’t,” he starts, forcing the words out over the knot in his throat. “I can’t imagine living without him.”

It opens up yet another avenue of thoughts, that he’s pushed away until now. All his plans for the future include Magnus. There is no Alec without Magnus, not in his head. He’s dreamed so often about marrying him, recently, about seeing the Lightwood ring on Magnus’ hand and moving in together and—

What is he going to do now?

He can’t stop seeing Magnus’ face as he left the shop, the desperation in his eyes. Did he really do the right thing? Magnus has lost so much recently—

But that’s exactly why Alec did it. Magnus has lost too much. His magic is an intrinsic part of himself, something he can’t just do without, even if it took Alec too much time to understand. His immortality is a part of him. Alec… Alec is just a lover. One more lover in a long string of them.

Magnus has had many relationships, and he’s lost them all eventually, and he lived through it. But this, losing his magic? He was ready to risk dying from Lorenzo’s transfusion, just to be able to use this second-hand, wrong magic. Even Alec could see how weird the yellow magic was in Magnus’ hands, how sickening, but Magnus latched onto it like it was more important than breathing.

No, Magnus can replace Alec in a way he can never replace his magic. As bad as Alec feels for hurting him on the short term, it’s the only decision he could make.

From the moment the idea of going to Asmodeus went through his brain, he knew that he couldn’t live with himself unless he tried everything. He wishes, selfishly, that he’d never thought of it. He’d be holding Magnus right now in this bed, instead of lying heartbroken between his siblings.

It wouldn’t hurt like this.

“You can do this, Alec,” Izzy says softly, but even Alec can tell that she doesn’t fully believe it. “I know you can. We’ve just gotta take it one step at a time.”

“That one of your mundane group things?” Jace asks when Alec doesn’t react.

He doesn’t know how to react. He can’t think of tomorrow, of next week, of any time without Magnus. One step at a time implies that he even wants to go on.

He’s not sure he does.

“Yeah,” Izzy mutters. “It helps. Sometimes.”

Alec wonders if this is what Jace felt when they thought that Clary was dead. What he feels right now when Clary is out there somewhere, brainwashed by Jonathan. Alec can’t feel anything through the parabatai bond, not on top of his own pain.

He grits his teeth against the urge to hit his head again, just to overwhelm the emotional pain. His scalp is going to bruise as it is, unless he uses an iratze. His fingers are covered in teeth marks where he bit himself, some of them still bloody.

“You hope the pain here will overpower the pain there,” Magnus told him once, hand on his heart. Alec almost whimpers.

Oh, to go back there, to the beginning of them. The pain of that day, the overpowering guilt at Jocelyn’s death, feels so inconsequential now. So much has happened. They never had time to stop running, one thing after the other.

It’s been over two years, but Alec feels like he never had time to just breathe. Curl up with Magnus and just enjoy the moment. They always had to think about the next step, the best thing for their respective people, the next threat coming to rip them apart.

And now they’ll never have that time.

Alec jerks his hands out of Izzy’s grasp and he digs his nails into the skin of his scalp, pressing on his eyes with the heels of his palms. Fuck. He can’t do this. He can’t live with this pain.

Jace must sense his distress, because he slings his arm over Alec’s and holds him, so tightly that it’s nearly painful. It eases something in Alec, calming his crawling skin until he can relax just a little. “We’re here,” Jace murmurs in his ear. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“We can’t replace Magnus, but we’ll support you no matter what,” Izzy adds, slipping her arms around both of them. “We love you, Alec. That will never change.”

Alec closes his eyes.

It doesn’t make things better. It doesn’t make tomorrow any less daunting, and it doesn’t stop the excruciating pain. But it soothes something in Alec, making it just a little less unbearable.

His body exhausted beyond its limits, Alec finally falls asleep.

[wordsablaze]

1~ i see your pain

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it's the last thing he does…

A/N: accidentally sank into jaskel and whipped this up at like 3am so here we go... titles from monsters by timeflies

-

Eskel is familiar with physical scars. 

How could he not be, with them making up half his face? 

He'd had to become familiar with them whilst training, growing up, travelling the path, trying to survive. 

Countless cuts and scratches and bites had led to countless scars, scars that he barely even pays attention to anymore because he'd become so used to them. 

But that was just physical scars.

Obvious, external reminders of battles and people and memories he often wishes he could forget. 

He can turn away from his reflection and keep his hands away from his skin and avoid the gaze of judgemental townsfolk and sometimes, it's almost as if he can't see his scars anymore. 

Unfortunately, not all scars are physical. 

Some are deeper, etched into hearts rather than flesh, invisible to most and impossible to forget. 

Well, not so impossible if Eskel has anything to say about it. 

To be fair, he usually doesn't. 

But for Jaskier? 

He makes an exception for Jaskier from the very moment their paths cross…

---

Eskel groans internally as the innkeeper's nose wrinkles up in disgust. 

It's the third time he's done that during their conversation and he's rather tired of it. 

He knows he's covered in innards, thank you very much, but he isn't going to do anything about it until he gets his coin. Being refused payment is nothing new but he needs it this time, the cursed beast had ruined his armour. 

"Must you be so-" the innkeeper starts, clearly about to insult him. 

But he's interrupted by someone slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

It's been an age since anyone has done anything of the sort and he's equally as confused as he is annoyed. He might also be a little bit relieved but he'd never admit how nice it feels, not even to himself. 

So he tenses, fighting every impulse in his body that screams at him to throw the stranger off. 

"Gorgeous? Why yes, he must," the stranger interjects, and suddenly he's not so much of a stranger anymore. 

Eskel doesn't frequent public places often and he rarely pays attention to bards but he'd recognise that voice anywhere. 

"And since this lovely witcher has just done your town a favour, it's in your best interest not to insult him."

And even if he didn't, there's only one human who's known to have a habit of defending witchers. 

Jaskier spares him a sideways wink before staring pointedly at the innkeeper, who looks just as confused as Eskel feels. 

He's not sure if that's because Jaskier had appeared out of nowhere or because he'd just been referred to as both gorgeous and lovely, but either way, he finds he doesn't know what to do. 

"Now, do be a dear and run the poor darling a warm bath, will you? I know you have no rooms left so you can have it sent to mine. That is, unless you wish for me to stop playing?" 

Jaskier raises an eyebrow and Eskel can't help but smirk, recognising the look of defeat on the innkeeper. 

"No, I- Of course. It'll be ready when you finish for the night."

The man disappears immediately and Eskel finally turns to Jaskier. "You're his bard."

If Jaskier didn't have an arm looped around his shoulders, Eskel wouldn't have noticed the flinch.

But mischievous blue eyes distract him before he can question it. "I was. But right now, I'm just the bard ordering you to go sit and brood in the corner and enjoy my performance."

Eskel's frown only deepens. "And if I say no?" 

Jaskier removes his arm from Eskel's shoulder and places his hands on his hips, both accusation and amusement dancing in his eyes. "You will not do that because I absolutely refuse to waste a perfectly good bath."

"You could just use it," Eskel points out. 

It's a wasted argument, they can both smell the strong floral scents on Jaskier that suggest he's recently had his own bath. 

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier takes Eskel's arm and pulls him to the corner of the room, firmly guiding him into sitting down and sliding a drink towards him. 

"Drink up, darling, it's been made extra strong to suit your witcher-y needs."

As Eskel wonders how Jaskier could have known he was going to stay, the bard slips away and turns his attention to the crowd. 

Or rather, turns the crowd's attention to him. 

Apparently, Geralt had severely understated Jaskier's abilities as a bard. 

He's in charge of the room as soon as he starts playing his lute, filling the place with an energy Eskel has only ever felt on hunts, making sure all eyes are on him as he travels from table to table. 

Eskel feels the faintest sting of bitter confusion when Jaskier refuses to even glance in his direction, knowing that Geralt had commented on the bard's habit of drawing attention to him during performances. He can't help but wonder if it's because he's not as good as Geralt, if he's not as appealing to look towards in the middle of a song. 

But when a man starts muttering darkly about witchers and Jaskier slyly spills ale all over his lap, Eskel realises it's just part of his plan.

Jaskier is making sure all the attention is on himself rather than on Eskel, as if he can tell how uncomfortable the witcher feels. 

It's difficult to fathom why someone who might not even know his name would go to such lengths for him with no hesitation. But really, can he be surprised when this is the bard who'd changed the fate of witchers?

He just can't figure out why Geralt isn't also here or why Jaskier claims to no longer be his bard, especially since they've all heard the plethora of songs about a white wolf. 

When everyone is satisfied and people have started leaving tips and drifting back to their rooms, Jaskier announces his departure and all but falls onto Eskel. 

He's breathing heavily but there's a wide grin on his face as he sees the empty mug on the table. 

"You drank it!" he says rather obviously. 

Eskel nods. "It was good."

And he's not lying. It really had tasted good, much better than most drinks he's been served. 

Jaskier grins smugly. "I know, it's my recipe."

Eskel blinks. 

"But you, however gorgeous you may be, smell absolutely appalling. I believe you promised me a bath?" 

He could theoretically snap the bard in two but he finds himself unable to refuse as Jaskier steers him through the remaining crowd. 

They stop in front of the innkeeper, who sighs when he notices them. 

"Your bath awaits, bard."

Jaskier nods but doesn't move, raising an eyebrow. "I think you owe my friend here some payment, do you not?" 

Eskel glances at Jaskier in confusion, wondering if he'd heard correctly. Why would he so recklessly associate himself with Eskel despite having just met him? 

The innkeeper seems to know better than to argue this time, simply handing over a pouch and waving a hand. "A little more than promised as a token of... apology." 

Jaskier beams at the man. "I knew you were a good soul! We'll see about earning you more coin with another performance in the morning…" 

And with that promise, he takes the coin and guides them both upstairs. 

Eskel takes a moment to appreciate the way Jaskier can take full control of a situation so effortlessly before realising he's also victim to one of those situations. 

"My horse-" 

"I took care of it," Jaskier interrupts, pulling him inside a room and shoving him towards the bath. 

"You did?" Eskel asks, frowning yet again. 

Jaskier scoffs. "Do stop worrying your facial muscles, daring, of course I did. I know how witchers work."

Eskel chooses not to reply to that, simply staring at the bath that he still can't believe was brought up for him. By an innkeeper who'd apologised for his words. 

He can't help but wonder if he's being referred to by terms of endearment because Jaskier doesn't know what else to refer to him by or if he's just like that with everyone.  Geralt had complained that the bard could be overwhelming so the latter seems likely. 

Jaskier bites his lip. "Do you… Do you need me to leave?" 

He sounds so unsure of himself, so unlike how he'd been a mere minute ago, that Eskel finds himself shaking his head before he can consider his options. 

"It's your room, I couldn't kick you out of it," he says slowly. 

Jaskier beams at him. "I'll stay out of your hair, though, I promise. Just make sure you don't smell like the insides of a monster when you're done."

Eskel nods as Jaskier places the coin pouch on the small bedside desk before settling on the bed and starting to scribble something. 

Within minutes, Eskel has slipped out of his armour and into the warm water - it shouldn't still be so warm after so long, not unless someone had been told to make it extra hot specifically for a witcher - and his eyes have started to close at how good it feels in comparison to cold rivers. 

It's nice, truly nice, and he lets himself forget about the rest of the world as his muscles slowly begin to relax. 

He only remembers to move when he hears a pointed cough. 

His eyes shooting open, water splashes as he sits upright to see Jaskier leaning forwards and smirking at him, but not unkindly. 

"I know I said I'd stay out of your hair but how long do you plan to keep all that foul-smelling stuff in there?" 

Eskel is still trying to process how he'd started to let his guard down in the presence of a relative stranger when he realises he'd literally forgotten to actually bathe. 

Jaskier doesn't seem to be laughing at him though. If anything, he looks a little sad.

"They're not too bad," Eskel says eventually, resisting the urge to smile when Jaskier gasps dramatically. 

"Excuse me? You're in the same room as my beautiful oils and salts and you dare to suggest that innards smell better? I should think not!" 

And somehow, Jaskier is beside the bath within the blink of an eye, all but glaring down at him. "Now, you're going to sit still while I take care of that beautiful hair of yours, understood?" 

Amused, Eskel just nods. 

He's no longer amused when Jaskier gets to work though, he doesn't have time to be amused when he's too busy being pleasantly shocked. 

Jaskier's fingers make their way through his hair in the same way they play his lute: softly and gently but also firmly, expertly, as if he's done so a million times before. 

No wonder Geralt's hair had always looked surprisingly good. 

"All done," Jaskier whispers after what feels like an eternity. 

Eskel opens his eyes and forces himself not to groan at the loss of Jaskier's touch - it would be ridiculous to miss something he's only felt once.

"Thank you," he whispers back, not wanting Jaskier to regret helping him. 

To his surprise, Jaskier blinks as if he'd never been thanked before. There's a flicker of confusion in his eyes before he recovers and stands with a soft smile. "It's truly my pleasure, darling."

Eskel frowns at the repeated term, wondering once again why Jaskier throws such affection so freely, so thoughtlessly. 

"Will you be staying the night?" Jaskier's question pulls him out of his thoughts. 

Oh. 

Is he meant to stay? 

Would it be rude to use both someone's bath and room or is he meant to provide company to return the favour? 

Jaskier chuckles. "Don't think so hard, you'll get wrinkles. You're welcome to stay if you wish but I won't be so selfish as to demand it."

He knows he probably shouldn't but there's something so sad about Jaskier expecting nothing in return for his deeds - mostly because he can see the mindset of a witcher in that logic - that he offers the bard a smile. 

"I owe you for the bath. Do you wish for me to stay?" 

Jaskier looks at him in bewilderment before his eyes light up and he grins widely enough for it to look painful. "Would you? Witchers are just so warm and the nights can be dreadfully cold…"

Eskel pauses, glancing between Jaskier and the bed, the one bed, to make sure he's interpreting the request correctly. 

"You want me to… share the bed with you?" 

Jaskier bites his lip, seemingly regretting his words. 

His hands fidget as he shakes his head and looks away, moving his things to the floor. "No, no, sorry, I can't ask- It would be unfair of me to make you do anything you're not comfortable with."

Comfort is rare for Eskel and despite the bard's reputation, he's beginning to think it is for Jaskier too. 

"I didn't bring my bedroll," Eskel says casually. 

After a slight pause, Jaskier frowns at him, a small smile then gracing his face once more. "Well then, you'll just have to share the bed with me. It wouldn't do to stiffen up those stunning muscles, now, would it?" 

Glad that Jaskier is no longer wallowing in the bitter scent of regret, Eskel finally lifts himself out of the bath. 

Jaskier's eyes widen and his breath hitches before he practically dives under the bed. 

He reappears before Eskel can express any concern, holding out a small pile of clothes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I, uh… your clothes need washing but you can use these for now."

"Why do you have them?" 

Jaskier shrugs. "Might have rescued them from a man who was letting them collect dust…"

Eskel wonders what the rest of that story is but he'd rather not make Jaskier uncomfortable by inquiring so he simply takes the clothes and slips them on. 

Once he's done, Jaskier smiles, having settled under the blanket. "Are you going to join me or simply admire those clothes all night?" 

Eskel snorts but slips under the blanket, unsure of how close Jaskier wants him to be. He doesn't know exactly what Jaskier was like with Geralt and even if he did, there's no guarantee it'd be the same with him. 

But Jaskier is having none of his hesitation and turns so he can curl himself towards Eskel. 

"Is this okay?" Jaskier breathes. 

Eskel shivers ever so slightly. He moves closer instead of audibly replying, relieved when Jaskier gets the message and smiles, closing the remaining gap between them. 

He honestly doesn't know if he has the right to be doing this. If someone like him, just another witcher, has the right to this kind of intimacy. 

"Goodnight, Eskel."

Oh.

Jaskier does know his name. 

He knows exactly who he is and he'd not only let but invited him stay anyway. 

With a smile that he'd never confess to, Eskel waits until the bard is asleep before taking the time to appreciate everything about the sheer, unadulterated kindness of the moment. 

He doesn't even notice himself drift off. 

---

A life filled with affection had never seemed likely for Eskel but Jaskier makes it seem tangible. 

He's willing to give his love to Eskel and Eskel's scars without a second thought so it would be wrong not to ensure the favour is returned. 

It's really quite logical that he helps Jaskier overcome the problems he can't even tell he's dragging around. 

And it's definitely just because he owes the bard for improving his reputation and getting him his coin, not because something in his chest burns at the thought of the bard's wounds never being allowed to fade.

His own scars will never disappear but he vows to heal whatever scars Jaskier doesn't know he has, no matter how long it takes.

It's only fair, after all. 

-

okay so i have a vague plan but also have other witcher WIPs so we’ll see where this goes... i do love this ship tho !!

-

thanks for reading! witcher sideblog: @geraskifer | masterlist | next chapter

[adventures-in-poly]

0 Posts in 2020

You’d think that I’d have something Very Profound to say about the interactions between the pandemic and poly, but it turns out I haven’t wanted to write about that subject very much at all. I won’t say that the pandemic has sucked all the inspiration from my brain, just that it has shuffled inspiration around in unexpected ways and away from writing.

The pandemic has felt like it’s pressed the pause button on my poly life. My husband (M) can’t go out on dates because OTHER PEOPLE ARE DANGEROUS. I also can’t go out on dates for the same reason, but moreover, I choose not to go on dates because I’m just So Damn Exhausted. I’ve seen my boyfriend (Crow) only three times this year: once before the pandemic and twice since, and that’s only possible because his house has this large porch where we can do social distancing outside. I haven’t kissed him since January and I’ve only hugged him once, masks on and faces turned away, and I held my breath the whole time. I haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year, and I can’t even “blame” that on the pandemic. It’s a choice. Guess I’ve gone full asexual, and I say “guess” because, while asexual is an accurate descriptor, I still don’t feel really great about adopting that as a personal identity. I’m not even upset about the no sex part though. I’m happy about it. My Magic Wand knows exactly what I want and all the nuances of my body and it’s much less painful than skin on skin.

The pandemic is NOT a good thing. It is NOT a good thing that millions of people have died, and it is NOT a good thing that we as a community are touch-starved and relationship-starved and can’t seem to figure our shit out.

That said.

I’m going to be honest. It has felt nice not having to worry, poly-wise. I hate that that’s a thing that I feel, but this blog is and has always meant to be about honesty. It feels like a relief knowing that I am not going to be in a situation where I have to watch my husband drunkenly and sloppily hit on other women at parties that we are meant to both enjoy. It feels like a relief knowing that he isn’t going to tell me, “I’m going to meet someone that I’ve been talking to on Tinder”, that the bomb isn’t going to fall on me. Because that’s what it is. “I came in like a wrecking ball.” The fear that someone else will enter our lives - my life - and I’ll have no control over it, and I’ll hate it, and I’ll lose myself.

I have a lifelong fear of being replaced. Of being “not good enough”. I hesitate to call it a fear of being unlovable, because I’ve never doubted that people love me and like me. I think they do. But the fear is that, when my needs butt up against someone else’s, theirs will always win. As a child, my parents taught me all about caring for other people, being generous, being self sacrificing, being kind. They immigrated to the US from England a few years before I was born, and as a result, I was brought up with a European mindset (others before yourself) in an American environment (look out for number one). And, as a result -- even though my parents were extraordinarily caring, even though I was an only child, even though they were generous with their time and attention, even though I had a very happy childhood -- I somehow learned that I would always be second place. Always the one to sleep on the floor at sleepovers so the guest or the host could get the bed. Always the one to get a boring piece of cake so a louder and therefore more deserving child could get the piece with the flower. Petty shit like that that translated into real adult problems. Just two nights ago, on New Year’s Eve, I had told my husband I’d wanted us to change the sheets, and as I ascended the stairs to bed I forlornly reminded him that we hadn’t changed the sheets - terrified and fully preparing myself to be let down because he was having a good time at an online New Year’s Eve party and of course that meant that my needs would subside. (They didn’t. The world doesn’t work like that. My husband shows me over and over again that my needs are important to him, and yet I Still Never Learn.)

I can say with full honestly that I am no longer really jealous of my boyfriend and his wife anymore. I used to be, a little. I used to be jealous that he would want to visit her at her shift before he came over for dates, or that he’d want to bring her to casual outings with me, or that at any point the two of them could decide they’d want to move back to San Diego and that would be that. I don’t feel those things anymore. I haven’t for a long time. It’s some sort of consequence of she and I becoming legitimate good friends, plus me and my husband moving an hour away, plus just being too damn old and too damn tired to give shits anymore.

Then again, their relationship was never the kind that was going to prick my skin up and put me on guard. I was the new person, not her. I don’t have a complex about older, more established relationships.

But the idea of my husband finding somebody new, even though our relationship is solid? Sends me into chaos. Even now. I wish I could say that it’s changed in the 5 years since we opened things up, but it hasn’t. It hasn’t really at all.

I’d wanted this blog to document my journey from new to seasoned poly, from a jealous wreck to someone who had learned to love herself and meditate through the pain. That’s not what happened. I’m not sure if it’s ever going to happen. My husband hasn’t had enough actual relationships to give me practice experiencing the very discomfort that makes me want to scream until my insides explode out, and the few times it has happened, I felt like I was living in a shock chamber and turning into the kind of person I don’t want to be.

I wanted to evolve, for the sake of my readers, into someone who fully accepts a poly lifestyle. To show that it can be done. No -- to show, specifically, that I could do it, that I could logic and reason my way through all the shit and prove myself to be better than my jealousy. I don’t think that’s what’s going to end up happening. I think it’s no secret at this point that I don’t really love this whole poly thing. I am still actively choosing it, but not always for reasons that I endorse. What if I decided I didn’t want to do it anymore? Would I lose my husband? Would I lose my boyfriend? Could I ethically give up my relationship with my boyfriend to create monogamy with my husband? Could I ethically ask my husband not to go on dates while I still retain my relationship with my boyfriend? It’s all shit, really. None of it is a good outcome. And the pandemic has allowed me to stall my non-decisions for a year because it’s not like we can see other people anyway. And isn’t it great when some external force gives you a reprieve from the things you’re afraid of.

But while the pandemic has put my poly life on pause, it’s put my healing and growth around poly stuff on pause as well. Sure, it feels fucking great on the surface, but it’s not actual growth. I’m not forever in a place where I will feel secure. It’s going to end eventually (vaccinate me, babyyyyyyyy!!!), and the parties will start again, and the dates will start again, and my terrified introvert ass is afraid that everything collectively will swing in the opposite direction super hard. Free love! Casual sex everywhere! Everyone wants to hang out all the time! How could you possibly want to be alone at a time like this! And that fear extends beyond poly stuff and beyond just me and my husband - I’m not ready for the world to become a giant party. I don’t want that world. I don’t want to live in that world but I also don’t want to miss out on the collective bonding experience that is almost sure to come from the end of Covid. So the reprieve I’m feeling now is only surface level great because it’s a pause, not an end, and I don’t feel any more equipped to deal with my jealousy and my social anxiety and my feelings of not being good enough than I did at the beginning of this damn pandemic.

Part of me wishes I could “get over my shit”, and part of me wants to cling onto my shit and defend it. Like why am I the one who has to change, why am I the one who has to evolve, what’s wrong with feeling the way I feel? Why is this a “my shit” thing, like I’m alone and all my problems are caused by my own feelings? Why do other people NeEeEeEeEd to go on dates and have sex. Why does my husband need that. Why am I not good enough. Why is the problem that I feel jealousy and insecurity; why is the problem not that he feels [insert whatever he feels here. unsatisfied? no, that’s not it. incapable of being fully satisfied by a single person? that seems extreme. incapable of surrounding himself with platonic friendships in the way that comes so naturally to me and many of my women friends, and much more able to connect with people he is in a romantic/sexual relationship with, and so needs to create many romantic/sexual relationships to fill that void that otherwise would be filled with friendships - which is not actually something I believe about him, I think he could make really great friendships with the right tools, but is something he’s expressed to me and is also something that’s pretty common around people raised as men? is that too harsh?]

I’m trying to look for a good ending for this post, but, like an explanation for my feelings, I don’t think I’m going to find satisfaction here.

[novantinuum]

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

[leavaloo]

The Moon’s Kiss [Alfonse x F!Summoner; FEH fluff]

So I always tend to get inspired when I read anything Lif or Alfonse related by @pokemagines because they portray the beans so well, and I wanted a little bit of a break from Pokemon, so take it. Alfonse can have my entire life and I’d be okay with that.

The castle was always eerily quiet at night. With so many heroes wandering about, talking, sparring, sometimes yelling, the quiet seemed out of place. It was always a culture shock to Alfonse, but in a way he preferred it. There was no one here to see him when he was crestfallen or pondering.

His room was a good place to go, yes, but one can only do so much thinking in the confines of their own prison. So the night air wafting through the halls was always a much needed relief when he found that he couldn’t sleep. He could smell the scent of the various flowers drifting through the air, and the night brought just enough chill to counteract the growing summer heat. Without his armor, he found himself moving about the halls silently; a habit he had picked up from sneaking about from kitchen to room.

He smiled. Sharena was doubtless to remember those nights, what with him snagging some bread for them to share on the quiet hills near the castle. Sneaking back was more of an issue than getting there, but getting caught didn’t do much for a deterrent. There was more punishment for him since he was older, but the smile and happy giggles from his sister always counteracted those.

Alfonse made his way towards one of the many balconies around the castle, more towards his room. The night air felt silky smooth, and he wondered if he was allowed to sleep in the grass tonight. As he rounded the corner, he found that tonight he wouldn’t be alone in his night adventure.

He had seen you without your cloak multiple times, but something about you tonight was just... striking. His summoner, in her nightgown and leaning over the ledge of the balcony, the moon kissing her skin and the wind through her hair. You were never one to express too much; your smile now said otherwise. Eyes drifting lazily over the countryside, your cheek resting on your arm... you looked like you belonged in a painting. Somehow, Alfonse didn’t feel like he deserved to see you in such a light.

He didn’t realize that he was staring at you, leaning against a pillar next to the balconies. Nor did he realize the small smile he had on his face. Alfonse always found himself becoming more casual around you. Him leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed was not something he would have done in the presence of others. His navy blue night shirt and brown trousers shifted slightly in the breeze. That breeze wafted your hair, and when you went to fix it, you saw him out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh! Alfonse! I didn’t see you there!” Damn it, there was that smile again. Alfonse had studied you on countless different occasions, how you interacted with everyone. And he realized that this big smile of yours when you saw him was reserved for him only. You popped up on the balcony, straightening your posture and giving him a big grin. Alfonse thought he could see a slight blush, but he disregarded it as a play of the light.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His smile didn’t leave. It never really left around you to begin with.

“Oh no, I was just surprised is all. Usually you’re so loud!”

“It’s the armor.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wow, I could have never guessed.”

Alfonse chucked, ignoring his fast heart beat and moving to the balcony next to you. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Aren’t you usually studying during this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you retorted. You sighed, leaning once more. “I figured that when I was about ready to claw my eyes out that it was probably a good time to take a break. And lucky me, I picked the perfect time.” You looked over at him and winked. While he, externally, just chuckled, inside he was screaming very loudly. “What are you doing up?”

Alfonse shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Insomnia again?”

He nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, it makes it worse that I can’t stop thinking.”

“About what?”

About you, he wanted to say, but he held that side of him back. “About our recent events. How crazy things have been, and how none of it seems to really stop. Kind of like how my brain just... doesn’t stop.”

He felt a hand on top of his head, and he looked over to see you patting the top of it. He couldn’t help but laugh at your goofy grin. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know that right?”

There you go again, he thought. Somehow, you always did the silliest actions when you gave the most needed advice. “I know. I’m getting better at it.”

“I can see that. I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself now. It’s not fun to see you in pain.” You pulled your hand away, and Alfonse could clearly see the scars on your arms. The sight of him made his heart hurt. All those times you ended up getting hurt in battle. It was just a reminder that those were all times that he couldn’t protect you.

“It’s not fun seeing you in pain either.” He allowed himself a small touch to your arm, the back of his fingers tracing over a fairly gnarly scar. If he remembered correctly, that was from a jagged and rusted hand axe some enemy militia has picked up. The scar was rough and weathered; while it had healed as best as it could, there was still an obvious dip in your skin where the flesh has been cut from. “Perhaps you could do me a favor and let me protect you more in battle?”

He didn’t think it came off as a very loving statement, but the hitch in your breath and the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. You looked away from his eyes, your grin turning bashful. His stomach erupted into thousands of butterflies. He’d never seen this side of you before, and he wanted to see more of it.

“M-Maybe... You still need to lead a bunch of people though, right? How are you going to lead them if you’re protecting me all the time?”

“I can easily lead by your side.” What kind of Hel infested demon was taking over his brain? Alfonse didn’t even know he could have this side of him. It was weird, but to be honest, he dug it.

You wouldn’t meet his eyes now, your face as red as a cherry. Alfonse couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, his fingers still brushing your skin. “You look like you’re about to pop.”

You reached peak cuteness when you hid your face in your hands. Alfonse laughed, pulling away as to not make you overly uncomfortable. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to be so callous.”

You shook your head, dropping your hands but still not looking him in the eye. Alfonse, now that he had learned that other summoners existed, vowed to let all the worlds know that he had the cutest one. You took a deep breath, but your little bashful smile was still there. “I-It’s okay! I’m just... not used to that yet.”

“Maybe I could help change that?” Alfonse bit the inside of his lip, internally cursing for the shameless flirting that his brain insisted he continue. But you looked up at him, finally, the twinkle in your eyes against the light of the moon luring him into a trance once more. Now, it was your turn to retort. Alfonse gulped heavily as you walked up to him, centimeters away from his face. You were a slight bit shorter than he was, but that didn’t mean your presence was any less mesmerizing. You always smelt like freshly baked goods, and being this close to you made him wish that he could hold you every night.

“Maybe... I’d be okay with that. Especially if I get more nights like this.”

Alfonse found his hand running up and down your arm, the smoothness counteracted by the rough scars. He smiled, taking in the light of your eyes. “I’d agree, my dear. But I believe we’d need to keep it quiet for a little bit.” He could feel your breath on his skin, and he just wished he could connect. Your hand rested on his chest, and Alfonse pulled you in closer. He couldn’t resist you anymore. Your body rose when he kissed your lips, and with nothing but the wind and the humming of crickets to watch, he found himself melting.

How long had he wanted this? This embrace with you? Far too long. Months? Years? The silence was intoxicating, the rushing of his heartbeat ringing through to your hand on his chest. He didn’t want to break the kiss, as simple as it was. Nothing extravagant in it, just a loving connection. His eyes fluttered open when you two parted. You pulling away was the worst thing in the world for him; he wanted nothing more than to steal you away to his room. In a way, he felt so naive and small. Kissing someone like this was very new to him, and slightly terrifying in a way. You played with a his hair for a little bit, the strands that had started to meet his neck.

“Good night, Alfonse. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You laughed, giving him one big hug before you practically skipped off to your room. There was something that Lif had said that Alfonse was reminded of in that moment. A King and his summoner shall always be bound. Alfonse didn’t think that he meant in this way, but as he wandered off to his room, he found himself fairly giddy at the prospect of what that meant. Alfonse finally got the first good night sleep he had gotten in a while, and it was all worth it to see the immediate blush on your face in the morning.

[vnqel]

type 8: the fallen divine

Hi, this is my reflection on enneagram type 8. This is all my personal thoughts and ideas about this personality type. Add your thoughts to the discussion if you feel like it.

Thing I admire about type 8′s is the way they stand tall. And I mean it quite literally too, their posture speaks value, their walk screams courage, their eyes radiate strength. The respect they treat their own selves with is very well deserved - they’re human, after all. They’re flawless at responding to the primary and most honorable duty we all really have: the duty of caring for our own selves.

For a type 8, the king and queen of their own life, self care means putting themselves first. They have this natural ability to find their way through, whatever the circumstances, whatever tools and materials life provides them with, they’re gonna use it and make the best out of it. They know that life sometimes just “happens” to us, but at the same time they’re living as if they were also happening to life. The world does something to them, and they do something back. And they have this feeling at the very core of themselves that what they do truly matters. And it does, they’re not mistaken at all. 

They keep on living following the intuitive knowing of what to do. They take life as a show in theatre that their starring in and also directing it. The script may be written, but they’re the ones performing it. And so, somehow deep inside it is obvious for them that to be truly responsible of themselves and of their own story, they need to take into account the lives of others too. The calling they hear inside when making every step and every decision expands further into the external world. Suddenly, they see that their powerful ability to influence life and its direction can be applied not only to their own pathway but can also be of use to others that seem to be in need of it.

To type 8, the urge of taking matters into their own hands is hardly resistable. The guidence they take from their core makes them look around and just see what’s the right thing to do. Not only for themselves but also for others. That’s how they become protective, guiding or leading figures, straightforward and effortless, because they do what they need to do; what the calling inside is leading them to. And this call; this voice is probably one of the few they’re not gonna argue with. 

Despite of the inner drive and strong judgement, they seem to be able to treat the decisions and choices of others with the same amount of respect as they pay to their own decisions too. Their inner knowing always advices them on how to judge the situation and even if after all the persuasion of others they’re still sticking to their own opinion, they’re gonna let you do what you will nevertheless. That’s because, a type 8, more than anyone else, will be aware that we all have the very right to listen to our own inner voice. And this right is well respected by every 8. It is also demanded that their inner calling is respected as well. 

For that though, they’re not gonna ask or apologize for. They’re just gonna do the right thing.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

the painting: Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel

[moiraineswife]

Ep 55 Caleb Meta

Warning: This post will contain a)- Spoilers for episode 55. If you haven’t seen it yet BEGONE. b)- Angst. Bc. Caleb. c)- yelling. if u haven’t worked out already: these posts are not planned. these posts are not thought-through. these posts are not edited. these posts are a stream of consciousness shrieking at the void that is u lot. Enjoy. 

So. Uh. That episode was like..................A lot. Lots to unpack. LOTS. So I’m just going to touch on Caleb and the very specific niche deliciousness of him being completely and utterly retraumatised in that episode and how it may or may not pan out in future. 

Meta under the cut bc it got Long. 

So, DIVING IN: the nature of trauma in itself is repetition. Nightmares, flashbacks (of all their various forms) are ways in which the trauma itself repeats. Basically your brain Cannot Cope with what’s happened so it tries to just put you through the same thing over and over again like process this please. 

Caleb has been dealing with that for at least a decade since the original trauma took place. Then we pile on the (highly symbolic and super-interesting in a really fucked up way bit of magic that is Modify Memory (i assume) which I have to meta on more in future) which is effectively a false memory that was removed (that his parents were guilty/in his twisted-logic mind deserved what they got) which makes a very interesting mirror for suppressed memories (again: big trauma thing. In which your brain Cannot Cope so hard it just blots the bad memory out of existence entirely) so he’s a whole mess of being trapped in an endless cycle of his horrible past (PTSD is a Trip, y’all). 

This is...An echo of that but it’s something new. It’s very much the same KIND of thing, so it plays in to the trauma-repetition, but it’s a new incarnation of it. History repeating itself, etc, etc, delicious irony, all that great stuff fiction-creators live for.  

It’s going to be deeply upsetting for Caleb. (No shit, Taryn). But it so beautifully, and terribly, feeds in to his deep-rooted fears that he is a toxic person, and that those around him are destined to get hurt (by him, not by him, it doesn’t really matter to the guilt brain, it’s all just fuel for that fire). 

For example: Liam spoke on Talks about how, regarding Molly’s death, Caleb almost expected it because yup, that seems about right, par for the course. It’s one of the big reasons he’s been extremely reluctant to let the Mighty Nein get close to him (he’s directly said this in canon at this point, in his conversation with Beau). 

He feels dangerous. He sees himself as dangerous. Partly because he sees himself as being constantly in danger, and by extension, those around him are also in danger. That’s external. 

The internal part of him has been screaming ‘you killed the two people who loved you the most in the world in an unprovoked attack because you’re a monster’ for over a decade at this point. Not only does he not deserve any of these people, he feels like he’s destined to hurt them, no matter what he does, or how hard he tries. 

This, uh, reinforces that in a very deep, obvious, and painful way. Not to mention the fact that, not only did he hurt them he hurt them with fire. Again. So it’s almost exactly the same pattern of shit coming back to haunt him for a second time: 

Trent: Mental manipulation magic - fire - dead loved ones  Demon: mental manipulation magic - fire - nearly dead loved ones. 

It’s Bad. It’s Real Bad. That boy is going to have the panic attack of his life when he recovers from the immediate adrenaline rush of the fight. It’s not going to be pretty. 

It’s going to drive home everything that little voice inside his head that sounds like Trent has been telling him since he joined these people. It’s going to undo all the struggle it’s taken to ignore that voice up to this point because don’t you see what happens when you get close to people? They can be used against you. You can be used against them. They become your weakness and you become weak because you care. Because this hurts. And if you were stronger, and smarter, then it wouldn’t... etc etc etc. *insert emotionally manipulative bullshit here* 

BUT! 

I actually think this could actually be good for him in a really weird way? 

Hear me out: 

Caleb has been living in a trauma loop for over ten years at this point. He’s been going over the same memories again and again and again, but he hasn’t done anything with them. He hasn’t actually fully processed what happened to him. And, and this is the biggest part: he hasn’t had anyone to push against. 

It takes a lot to recognise abuse. It takes a lot in the modern world when there are phones, helplines, the internet and, let’s be honest: awareness. There are words for these experiences and there’s more chance of, accidentally or deliberately, stumbling across help out there that can look at a situation from an outside perspective and go: this is fucked up. 

This is what Caleb needs. 

On his own it’s almost impossible for him to recognise what was done to him and fully process it and begin to heal from it in a healthy way. Caleb has not actually started the process of recovery for anything that happened to him yet because Caleb does not yet recognise/understand what there is to process/recover from. 

In Caleb’s mind, he is a monster. He did an unforgivable thing because he believed his parents deserved it as they were traitors. He broke because he was not strong enough to handle what he’d done. He was sent to an asylum and since escaping he’s just been afraid. That’s the only emotion he’s got towards Trent right now: fear. And it’s suppressing all logic, self-awareness, and the ability to think rationally about what went on. 

Caleb was abused. Caleb was manipulated, mentally, emotionally, and magically. Caleb was a vulnerable kid who was deliberately chosen, carefully groomed, and then skilfully brainwashed by a figure with an enormous amount of literal and emotional power over him. Caleb was abused. 

Caleb does not see this. 

Caleb does not recognise that he was abused. 

And I think this is where a lot of issues with Caleb kinda stem from in fandom? Because people look at him and just...How can he NOT understand that he was manipulated. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t. Because it’s just that damned obvious how could he not understand this? 

Abusers rely on that. Abusers rely on their victims not understanding what they’re doing to them. Particularly when their victims are young, with relatively little real-world experience, and absolutely no grounding/preparation to recognise or combat any of this, in a society that is more accepting of the kind of teaching that radicalised Caleb than most are. 

Caleb needs an outside perspective to look at what he went through and go ‘you know that’s fucked up, right?’ He’s kind of had that from Beau and Nott but not enough. Someone has to sit him down and go through every piece of what happened and be like ‘this is not okay’ ‘what he did to you was not okay’ ‘this is called abuse’ and then consistently validate those experiences until he understands. 

Caleb has over ten years of trauma to process and unlearn. That...That does not happen overnight. That does not happen because your new friend looks at you and goes ‘yeah that was fucked up, dude’ and suddenly it all crystallises in your mind and becomes clear. That takes work. And effort. And a willingness to feel something beyond fear for your abuser and Caleb is Not There yet. 

What this last fight does, though, is open up the possibility of Caleb starting to accept this a little bit. 

Jester: “What the fuck, Caleb?” 

Caleb: “I am sorry...They got inside my head.” 

This is actually....Kinda huge for Caleb? Actually it’s kinda massive. This is Caleb experiencing a trauma incredibly similar to what he went through when he was younger (but on a much smaller scale, with far less dire outcomes) and being able to look at it and, still apologise, but explain that he was not in control of himself, and that ‘they got inside his head’. 

This is the step he needs to take with Trent, too, this is the same admission that he needs to make to himself, and this is the first step that has to happen before he can even begin to start processing and healing his trauma. And he needs help with that. 

This is not the part where I say I expect the mighty nein to become Caleb’s therapists. But they can be friends, they can be a support network, but most importantly: they can be an outside perspective. 

They can’t process his trauma for him. They can’t work through his issues for him. They can’t take away any of his grief, or his guilt, or his pain, or his PTSD. They can’t make what Trent did go away. But they can point it out. 

They can raise a red flag. They can point it out and say ‘this is not okay’. They can put a name to it. They can validate it. They can do the things that Caleb cannot do himself, which is look at what happened and be able to acknowledge, without the burden of guilt, and the fact that it’s so much easier to blame, and hurt, and punish himself than a figure he’s terrified of, and say that it was not okay, and explain to him what happened. 

They can help him acknowledge his abuse and then he can start to help himself heal from it. 

But this fight is, essentially, a microcosm of Caleb’s past. And I hope that if (when, please god when) the mighty nein, who were all either a)- directly charmed themselves, or b)- resisted the effect but were aware of its intentions and capabilities, do not react the way Caleb expects them to react (ie: the way he reacted to himself) with anger, and hatred, and blame, that’s going to start unlocking things. 

I don’t expect a massive breakthrough next episode, don’t get me wrong, this is going to be a long, careful, painful process. But I think even the acknowledgement that someone affected that way by magic, or by emotional abuse, is not themselves, and is not, ultimately, to blame for what they may have done (or weak/somehow complicit in ‘allowing’ themselves to be targeted/victimised) is going to prove a really big thing for Caleb in the future. 

Just that acknowledgement that they don’t blame him for what happened, that they understand he wasn’t himself, and that it wasn’t within his control to stop what was happening could, I think, prove huge in terms of his recovery further down the line... 

TL;DR: Caleb experienced his past again on a much smaller scale with this fight, but having the party around him to react to him/it and reach out to him, and tell him it’s okay and that they don’t blame him will do A Lot for unlocking his potential recognition of abuse and recovery down the line. 

[gg-astrology]

SEVENTEEN: Xu Minghao (The8) - Overview

💕 Hello! Sorry for the long break but I want to get this out today! There’s been so much materials lately with all the SVT stuff that is going on (check out ‘Holiday’ special video if you can!) Please remember to take care of yourself and your own mental health if you need a break! 💕 

SVT Overview Series:

Seungcheol | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Wonwoo | Hoshi | Seungkwan | Vernon | Woozi | 

Woozi’s Inner Planet Natal Reading

Masterlist

💕Disclaimer: I’m not claiming to be an expert astrologer nor do I know these people personally. These are my interpretations and how they’re working based on my experiences/studies on them. Everyone has different opinions/studies in astrology, please be mindful of others and all interpretation/experiences is valid to an extent. However, feel free to make your own post or skip if you strongly disagree. There might be inaccuracy and difference in opinions. But the point of this post is to entertain and relate. I’m hoping to help people with similar experiences and get people excited about astrology. Also, since we don’t know most of their birth times, I’m using the standard 12.00pm💕

Xu Ming Hao (The8/Seo Myung Ho)

November 7th, 1997 (Anshan, Liaoning, China)

Scorpio Sun/2nd Decan Pisces

Honestly Minghao should be our Icon for Scorpio out there just because he Does It So Well!!! 

It’s a lot more than just his Sun/Mercury (both in Scorpio) -- his aura just screams Scorpio, even his Aquarius Moon seems to somehow Behave when he’s around.  

You know what Scorpio does that make them seem so coy? It’s because their eyes are so expressive, particularly when they ‘sink’ into you (like focus in on you) -- they do that thing where they look away for a second into the distance, look back at you and then ‘sink’ into you before blinking it out of existence and leaves people kind of breathless (like ‘wtf was that??? what’s going on??’) 

It’s not so much as an intensity as something we’re not normally used to (from other water signs, where they start off somewhere and consistently goes about it) with Scorpio it��s a combination of how actually/facially expressive they are + their shift in expressions that makes them so ‘mysterious’ and interesting.

 It’s more than that, but on the surface level this is why they may seem coy, seductive or mysterious to other people. It’s one of the many traits others are interested by/picked up on. And it’s just so-- Scorpio.

Anyways that’s just a small tid bit, let’s actually talk about Minghao now

Scorpio natives at their core (self-esteem/ego) are naturally sensitive, they often gets a lot of flack for not being sensitive enough when in actuality they have a lot of potential to be one of the most giving, compassionate and deeply sympathetic people out there.

Because they’re not conventionally giving like how we expect water signs to be --the Mars ruled Scorpio often gets misunderstood for how they care/show their affections for others-- seemingly a bit more stilted or selective on how they do so (with their methods).  

This doesn’t take away from the fact that they are responsive to others and they do care for them. As part of their core, their energy is internalized (Mars/N) towards themselves and how they react to others-- they focus alot more on self-improvement in order to remedy their situation, rather than relying on changing the world to suit them.  

Scorpio Sun in general, may find themselves having a natural affinity to self-reflect and get introspective/understand themselves a lot better than understanding others. Because through understanding themselves, they can help educate, encourage and support others as well. 

There’s stability there in their approach, from inside outwards. That’s some kind of inner beauty right there, where they can resolve any personal problems that comes their ways and help others along with it as well (long-term problems)

In a way, it helps as much as it hinders. If the opposite applies-- when they are confronted with problems they can’t resolve about themselves, they tend to feel helpless and become vulnerable-- often cut back on their self-esteem, self-expression and potential because they are unwilling to try/give chance to an alternative hope. 

It’s like making a decision of whether to take one big leap forward, or stay where they are. Often times, when they’re hindered they’d rather take the defensive than the offensive. And in this time, the natural Scorpio ‘venom’ builds up in themselves and poison them instead. 

Scorpio is a sign about progress, it may be a fixed sign but it’s natural state should be constantly looking for transformation. If transformation isn’t kept, then it’ll drown them from the inside out.

Transformation in this case isn’t just talking about cardinal movement/progress, it’s talking about switching. When they go from offensive to defensive, but is too afraid to go back from defensive to offensive. It eats them up inside instead. 

Same applies to offensive who can’t get back to defensive, without the defensive portion to their transformation-- they can find themselves searching in a desert without water, and not knowing when they can rest/find their solace.   

Scorpio sun natives are gifted with inner depth to them, with this comes a personal demon as well. But conquering this demon through bravery and courageousness that they exhibit for other people’s problems is something that’s harder for them to apply back into themselves. 

Don’t stress too much about it, sometimes certain things can feel very stagnant, but as life progresses onwards-- Scorpio will find themselves naturally adapting from one side to another anyways. It’s a relief/solace to them to be able to do this subconsciously sometimes. 

Part of the problem occurs when they want to switch at will, or are conscious of what’s making them feel worse about themselves and wanting control. This is part of the offensive side of Scorpio, but learning that things happen passively sometimes-- with certain things happening as you let it happen (the other side) is also part of the lesson Scorpio will have to learn. 

A part of being Scorpio is that they’re never too paralyzed by change. 

Changes happen and changes are encouraged, however that stems from inner stability that they seek to have, in order to be comfortable enough within themselves that they can adapt/flex on their powers to move through changes (glide through them, water sign). 

When changes happens that they aren’t in control of, the main focus of external change becomes how it affected them internally instead. 

Rather than focusing on how the change had taken something away from them against their will, it is usually seen as a more of a ‘trigger’ to a spiraling of event for themselves rather than the change being a thing in and of it’s own. 

To a Scorpio native sun, it’s not just a singular thing that’s changed. It’s about the consequences of those change and how it had affected everything around them as well. This is why they’re part of the water sign, with their ability to link several subconscious things together and identify them flawlessly as part of the bigger picture. 

This is part of why they’re naturally suspicious or curious about certain things, because they see/can envision how those things can correlate to a lot of other consequences as well. Scorpio may not be the most careful in the conventional sense, but for loopholes and subconscious pick-ups, they’re extremely adept at avoidance and figuring out those problems.

Scorpios are actually pretty optimistic, if you’re grading the scale on what they’ve been through/how they can still have the ability to stand on their own two feet despite their challenges and sometimes trauma. 

Their wisdom didn’t come from speculations or pre-planning, it came from experience and courage the Scorpio has to give back to themselves in order to become a better person as well. 

This optimism gives them that ability to look forward to better things, regenerative powers and healing for themselves and others. 

Again, with Scorpios. It’s about the inside out, If they can’t heal themselves, then what’s the point of others trying to heal them?  

Accepting help is one thing, but self-improvement and aligning said help with how they can help themselves (regenerative) is just as important.  

Anyways, Scorpio in the Pisces decans may exhibit an interest in self-expression and artistry at a young age, 

More so than finesse itself it’s about finding an outlet for their energy/self-expression that could be communicative/self-identification outside of themselves.

Think of it as like, energizing something with their soul energy. Like a game. 

Through their hands/eyes/physical body they let their soul energy (core-Sun) through the act of creating something instead. 

With Minghao, you can see it in the way he dances and his interests in other artistry/fashion/crafts. 

His interests in artistry isn’t just for him to admire alone, it’s for him to create and explore his own outlet himself as well. 

It’s not just about recreating something once and being done with it, it’s about appreciating every process and details that goes into it as well (Scorpio-- thorough/methodical)

Pisces brings an element of carefulness to the Scorpio, it helps balances the stagnancy and determination the sign has itself.

With Pisces involved in the Scorpio Sun, the ego/drive of the person is balanced in the way that’s optimistic, determined and focuses a lot of planning/stabilizing the ground for their own future as well. 

You can tell Minghao gets through a lot of his hardship through understanding and expansion of himself, and to do that he has to have a lot of optimism that Pisces decan in his Sun brings.

It’s not just hard work for him, it’s an outlook. 

Having a determinedly optimistic and compassionate outlook helps him survive, focuses and bring in others into his life.

What this means is, he may find himself having an easier time drawing people to him for his compassionate nature and more open/diplomatic outlook as well.  

Pisces brings a movement to Scorpio (mutable/fixed) it gathers people rather than wait for others to come to them. 

With Pisces decan in his sun, he understands that a lot of his internal problems can be solved if he participates in a group and does his job within the group setting 

Anything else that worries/stresses him, if he offers help to others they will treat him the same way in his time of need. 

Having this support is determinedly important to Scorpio/Pisces, since the Pisces ‘opens up’ the Scorpio’s ego/self-esteem to achieving greater things in life if they give back just as much too. 

It’s a sensitive placement, a carefully dangerous one since it can titters and tilt at anytime if the person isn’t so focused/determined on staying balanced. 

I think of this as walking on a plank, if you freak out or lose concentration for a second-- all that you want to achieve in the world and all that’s great can equally unbalance the person as well. 

Like other Scorpios, Scorpio/Pisces will still have a formidable presence. 

But rather than staying guarded, they have enormous compassion and outlook (life-advice) to share with the world as well. 

Aquarius Moon 

Scorpio-Aquarius in his luminaries, Minghao shows tremendous will-power and energy to give back into the world as much as he can within his own grasp.

That’s why all of his advice are usually self-focused, by focusing on his own self and what he has learnt/gone through, he can give back to through his own steadfast determination and experience instead of wasteful, hopeful words.

It gives his Scorpio/Pisces optimism a ground to stand on, this Aquarius Moon works harder to fulfill his wants/needs with substantial, material knowledge and understanding.

Without an Aquarius Moon, Minghao might’ve had a harder time encouraging others without feeling unsure/let down by his own insecurities as well.

 Aquarius Moon when in combination with Scorpio Sun, helps the person makes quick/concise observational skills on people around them. 

Since Scorpio is already investigative and deeply understanding of others, Aquarius here acts as a counterbalance or ‘ground’ for treating people fairly/justly as well.

It’s a fail-safe, and it keeps him from imploding on others imperiously. 

With Aquarius Moon and Scorpio Sun, the person may find themselves acting more level-headed in situations but just as fiercely determined (with a cause) 

It helps them with treating other fairly, staying objective but understanding subjectivity from others. 

Balancing the mix of the two gives a person a dynamic personality where they are steadfast, grounded and self-determined to make improvements in the world through their own charge/decision in a dynamic way (as opposed to earth signs who are steadfast but more stagnant) 

This Aquarius Moon has a deep love for people, but alongside Scorpio-- they are determinedly loners despite how much they love/care for/influence others through being there for them. 

In fact, being there for other people is a commonality between Aquarius and Scorpio in the way they express their affection/care for others. 

Because they’re observers and problem-shooters for people, observational skills and being able to remedy what they see/feel the other is ‘worried/stress/in a bad place’ is something they handle with care and quietness.

Listeners in a sense, but by being present in the situation rather than passively taking in the information. Scorpio/Aquarius luminaries are those who would go above and beyond for their friends, particularly those they’ve laid their life down to. 

Because Scorpio/Aquarius are made up of Mars/Saturn this combination may have the person exhibit more of their Capricorn traits in a way that even native Capricorns hide away from/don’t tend to do. They’re pragmatic, chivalrous, steadfast, quiet and determined.

 This Aquarius Moon placement also helps spread his individuality, with Minghao-- when he establishes his outer security (being steadfast for others around him/doing his duties right) his freedom loving nature is more seen/appreciated as his form of his ‘happiness’ expression.

What this means is that, when you can truly tell that Minghao is in a happy place is when he’s branching out his interests, not being so stagnant/focused on a certain thing and engaging in other activities that he had to drop/wasn’t so focused on before.

Because he’s so fiercely loyal (Aquarius/Scorpio) and incredibly giving/loving in karma, when others betray him or brushes off relationships/hard work so easily-- he’s just perplexed and put off-guard by it rather than feeling angry.

He can’t-- he knows he can’t change others and that there are other types of people in the world who doesn’t see things the way he does (or acts in the way he does -- part of Scorpio/Pisces) -- he understands that emotionally as well (Aquarius moon) -- but rather than feeling angry/betrayed about it he brushes it off and takes it as an intellectual lesson instead. 

It’s not a lesson to ‘not trust others’ but rather a lesson to himself to use more precautionary and reflect/be receptive to those kinds of people. 

Next time, when he’s faced with problems regarding these people again-- he can find a remedy for it beforehand and he would rather think about helping them out of their own funk instead of what hurt they could cause him.

His own focus is on himself, again with Scorpio/Aquarius. It’s not about lashing out or blaming anybody else/circumstances. It’s about doing his own work, pushing his own determination and thinking ‘what could I do to help them/protect myself better through my own hard-work/self-improvement’ instead.  

This is what it means to have a Scorpio core. And what the benefits of having Aquarius Moon does for him as well. 

Disregarding the fact that it’s a pretty practical and honorable emotional outlook to have for things, Aquarius Moon does tend to disregard (unknowingly) unwanted emotions. 

Not letting themselves get carried away with quick-fire/stricken with irrational emotions, they have a hard time adapting to the full range of emotions if they don’t process or is prepared for it.  

In a way, it might be frustrating to someone who’s core/ego is through emotional fuel (Scorpio). But in this case, it’s not.

Mostly because Minghao does have sensitivity to others and it’s more of a protection than a hinderance.  

He’s still able to do and feel all the things Scorpio would want him to do, and then some (through compassion/giving nature). At the same time, the only hindrance it’ll cause him is feeling isolated or desolated even if he’s surrounded by people sometimes. And no one really knowing how to help him because he has to help/understand himself first. 

Air Moons with Strong Water in them often feels detached like this sometimes. 

It’s mostly because they’re so willful in their emotional approach that letting things come naturally to them (like what water signs would want) becomes a matter of restlessness/agitation instead. 

Aquarius is also about support systems, most of the time when combined with water suns-- this becomes apparent in a way that they will seek certain independence from others but build their own ‘family/support’ unit to be proud of as well.

They love family, they love support units. But in order to appreciate them, they have to understand the opposite. With Aquarius, the contrast between the two (independence vs co-habitation) helps them balance themselves/their love for others better. 

That’s part of why they’re loners at heart, it’s because of this seemingly contrasting yet correlated way of thinking that makes them so dynamic and interesting. Part of why they’re deep-thinkers and pragmatic people.  

Another thing about their willfulness is that they often have determined ‘self’/goals of what they want themselves to be. 

Combined with not letting themselves process certain emotions that course through them, it can lead them to being more isolated within themselves because they’re actively blocking themselves from feeling/accepting themselves as they are as well (to an extent).

This however, doesn’t apply to those around them. Whilst they may be caring/nurturing and stern to those they care deeply about (close personal relationship) they’re consistently faithful and devoted to those around them.

They’re willing to tolerate a lot of weird ideas and actions of others, just as long as they have an understanding of each other’s personal space, freedom and clear communication in their relationships (whether it’s bickering or dynamically knowing where they stand with each other)

They’re often seen by those outside as laid back and often pretty forgiving people, however when it comes to close personal dynamic, it’s more than likely they won’t let personal things slide/someone else self-destruct when in their presence (without them watching/observing them/being accessible to picking up the pieces afterwards -- which is how they show that they are for others)

Generally, the closer they are to someone, the more easily seen their dynamic will be for others around them. (Whether it’s bickering, becoming more talkative/caring or communicating non-verbally with each other) 

Scorpio Mercury (29′ degrees)

Supported by his Scorpio Sun/Aquarius Moon, the observational quirk of Scorpio Mercury is even more impressive 

More than that, because he has Aquarius in his Moon (although they’re not aspected) Minghao tends to be faster on acting/reacting to others than sitting back/watching how things fold out.

What this means is, when he sees a situation getting out of hands, he has the adaptive reflexes to quickly (and diplomatically) insert himself into the conversation and calm others down.

He’s a natural born mediator in this sense, even though he has his own moodiness/personal stuff going on. When it comes to others, Scorpio Mercury may find themselves being quicker to act/react when they have a fire/air moon in their chart as well. 

He extends his help easily, the kind of person who’ll sit you down and figure out what to do together with you.  

If anything helps, it’s being heard and not feeling alone in your struggles. And that’s what he does for people he cares about

Think of it as a jury hearing your case, he doesn’t pick sides but he’ll treat you fairly/caringly if you’re feeling a little bit more on the emotional side. 

He tends to be frank and upfront about certain expectations or experiences, it’s a personal frustration/obligation for himself to not delude anyone into thinking a certain way even if it helps save their feelings.  

The way he probably see it, the consequences of letting you go without helping you change/not make the same mistake again outweighs what other kind of support you might need right now. 

Thus why, when he gives advice he tends to be a little more realistic than idealistic side. 

For other people’s sake/their future expectations rather than the now

You can see it as a flaw, but Minghao is so careful with how he phase things/how he says things. 

He always considers other’s emotions, and he knows the value of cushioning words without being too detached/flippant about emotions (see: earth signs) 

With Minghao, he can be straightforward without being harsh. And that in itself is what defines Scorpio Mercury when they’re dealing with careful, detail work for themselves as well. 

It’s not-- it’s less to do with anyone else. Whether the person took his advice and tells him about it, or whether they shit talk about him afterwards isn’t any of his concerns. 

He had a duty to himself, and obligation and sense of moral/values that if he didn’t do that for them then, it’s going to come haunt him in the future. 

You can say it’s a kind of righteousness that Scorpio Mercury have, but this is in combination with Aquarius Moon/Scorpio Sun/Capricorn Venus. 

Because he’s a combination of all these placement together, he would’ve felt guilty with himself (self-decrepitation) if he didn’t do anything about it (Aquarius Moon/Scorpio Mercury). 

He has the strength and will-power to make changes in people, so it’s more like-- a personal flaw to him if he didn’t use it wisely 

Because of his placement, Minghao also has an unusual mind. 

Not confined by his internationality or his cultural understanding, his mind exceeds the typical ‘open-mindedness’ because it delves deeper into truly understanding the meaning of what people stand for.

You know like, with trends. Sometimes people join bandwagons for something even though they don’t fully understand the meaning behind the message/they’re conditioned that way? 

Well Minghao’s one of those people who actually studies deeper, does his own research and supports things with his whole heart.

Because it can be hard for a Scorpio (surprisingly) to commit to something, when they do commit it has to be 100% there.

That applies to their interest/intellectual matter as well. 

Those who does things breezily/without details or substance gets questioned by him. 

He doesn’t do it meanly, but he does tend to point out certain flaw in their thinking because he expects them to pick up on their own crap and pull themselves into becoming better as well.

Most people get annoyed by this, because sometimes it’s about PASSION not the reasoning behind something (think: Mingyu-Minghao dynamic) -- but having understanding for each other (sympathy/compassion/where they’re coming from) is important. With tolerance, it’ll help build some kind of understanding eventually (through effort as well).

Also, since he has an Aquarius Moon. When in combination of his Scorpio placements, he tends to offer a broader/open perspective on things people aren’t expecting.

It isn’t just two or three perspectives (the person vs the other person vs his perspective) -- there are alternative choices as well. 

Perspectives that are minor/not often talked about (like someone in between/not related to all that) he has a bigger vision because his Mercury is aspecting to his Uranus/Neptune as well.

Mercury sextile Uranus/Neptune (Uranus sextile at 0′23) talks about seeing a bigger vision, sometimes being able to pick up on societal changes and development in the world intuitive as well. 

The mind (Mercury) is connected to the world outside (Uranus/Neptune) and that by itself brings a lot of clarity and depth to his Scorpio Mercury to expand on.

What this means is, instead of being endlessly tortured by his own thoughts/introspectiveness, Minghao actually has an outlet (Uranus/Neptune) where his influences can spread across/get to.

It helps him be more balanced, as well as fuel his introspection with outside interference sometimes. 

He has an easier time agreeing/accepting other people’s feelings/emotions (Scorpio Mercury -> Neptune/Uranus) as well as feeling generally more accepted letting his own opinions be known. 

It helps him feel not so alone/him vs the world, when he knows how to utilize this placement/aspects well. 

Sometimes, with Aquarius/Scorpio combination-- it can be fiercely defensive (fixed signs) of it’s opinion and sense of self.

It can lead to trying to suppress others, staying quiet in order to manipulate others into thinking a certain way.

With Minghao, it’s not usually like that. His Moon-conjunct-Uranus (0′23) is working incredibly in his life (has a large influence over his person)

Alongside that is also his Moon-sextile-Pluto that makes him much more adaptable/accepting of changes and transformation in his life. He relish in it almost, because it’s like a fresh shower cleanse for him sometimes.

Most people view Pluto influence as being in a washing machine, you get out of it kind of whacked out. But for those who suffers from stagnancy/personal problems and has a positive aspect to Pluto-- the influence feels like an hour long shower with sakura petals and you get out squeaky clean from head to your toe nails.  

Scorpio Mercury can be a murky placement to be in, but as long as everything else is pointing to outlets/influences in one’s chart. In Minghao’s case, it’s actually a lot less troublesome than most sometimes.

Oh yeah, Scorpio Mercury can also get a bit tunnel-visioned when they’re having ‘alone time’ or focusing on their own thing.

Often times, it’s probably having something that requires a bit of their their concentration. 

Instead of multitasking like they are capable of doing (if they have some other stuff in their chart) -- they delve deep into it and become so concentrated on it that they can’t look away.

You’d have to look for a better/more opportune time or pull them away physically. They close themselves off from the outside world and reply with noises instead of words sometimes when they’re in the zone.

Most likely it’s something on the computer instead of a phone, but just think of something like-- Minghao getting into conspiracy theories. 

Imagine for a second, of him getting into something that can be branched out/expanded on in different ways. That requires concentration.

With Scorpio Mercury, that’s ALL of their concentration. Whether it’s gaming or anything considered to be ‘alone’ time-- they can get lost in their own mind

One last note, since his Mercury is on an anaeretic angle (29′) exposing the truth (and people for filth) being a messenger of hope/faith and helping others achieve better societal changes through themselves/their own expectations is a part of Scorpio Mercury in it’s point.

Capricorn Venus (1′ degree)

Undeniably, family and comfortability comes first fo Minghao.

In terms of social relationships, he doesn’t expect much as long as he can be himself/not hurt others because of it. 

Capricorn Venus isn’t looking for anything amazingly fire-work-like or extraordinary in their relationship, they’re not looking for tumultuous roller-coaster like relationship. They’re looking for something that could sustain them, understand them and be with them long term.

They may not be looking for it but they’re not going to say no to it either.

If it’s worth it (end goal being sustain them/understand them/longevity) the process of getting to that point is no problem to them.

The clear possibility of being where they want to be at the end, even through all the confusion and mess is worth it to them. 

If they’re able to achieve what they want to achieve, and have what they want to have. They’re not picky people as we’d like to believe. 

Of course, this applies to his craft/arts as well. 

With Minghao, he has to be sure this is what he wants before he commits to it. 

Capricorn and Scorpio has a lot in common, but while Scorpio looks for freedom in expression (in order to exert their inner power freely/without hurting anyone) -- Capricorn aims for prestige

Do something, do anything. But make it good and make sure you’re doing this for yourself and not anyone else. 

That’s the true motivation for Capricorn Venus to pursue something, whether it be dancing, arts, fashion, crafts, etc.

If they’re doing it for themselves and they’re committed to it long-term, they have the will-power and determination to do anything. 

Whether it turns out well or not, it’s not even a possibility that it won’t turn out well because they will do anything to make it good. 

It’s pure in a way, they’re pursuing the craft/interest not for fame/statues, but rather for the purity of the craft itself and their own self-expression that’s achieved through exerting their own power/working hard for it. 

Thats what Capricorn Venus happiness is, when they can pursue something just because they can and they want to. 

Because they’re committed to it, they’ll make it good no matter what. Set backs doesn’t deter them. 

Another thing about Capricorn Venus is that in social relationships, they’re just looking to joke around/have fun with people. Anyone who puts in the same energy/happiness into social relationship is welcomed to them. 

They themselves are people who appreciates light-heartedness in conversations and social relationship. 

Considering how hard they are in other areas of life/their determination, for things that doesn’t require determination and only good-will, they let themselves go sometimes within that circle.

That’s not to say, you can go too far or be impossibly rude within the circle. 

Capricorn Venus are peacekeepers in a way that’s sterner than most, if something’s not ok (like someone’s attitude) they’ll point it out immediately/privately with the person. 

Tact and appropriateness is still important things to have in order to keep that light-hearted mood going. And since this is their one solace  from how hard they are on themselves, they do their best to keep it that way.  

Improper behaviour, brash or seedy conversations/relationship isn’t something for them. 

In fact these people are just as bad as those who look down on others/have ulterior motives-- literally dirt on the bottom of the shoe for him.

With Minghao’s Scorpio placements/Aquarius placement, these things definitely won’t fly in his radar. His righteousness is incredibly strong and he’s probably striving to be more and more morally upright. 

Sure he may find himself dropping into temptation, but he won’t come out of it improving himself/regrets letting things go that way (control is a huge part of Minghao’s personal self/core)

He has such a strong emphasis on looking out for other people/looking for societal change (strong Uranus aspects) as well as his own integrity. There’s no way Minghao won’t make a lesson out of it for himself/someone else when he digest everything (Scorpio Mercury)

 With Minghao, Capricorn Venus is also the strongest point of his self-control. With his Aquarius/Scorpio placement, control is already part of what he strives to have/do. But with Capricorn it becomes an actuality.

In a way, Capricorn materialism and pragmatism actually comes in handy because Venus becomes more hands-on with things this way.

Instead of staying in a passive stance, Capricorn Venus with a lot of ‘push’ from other placements (for control) actually acts on it. (making dreams into reality in a way) 

It becomes an externalizing outlet for him to achieve a modicum of control over his life and see it happen in the material world. 

Alot of it has to do with money. Upgrades, success, and ability to splurge on things he wants (clothes, dorm situation, wine, decorations) 

It may seem trivial but seeing it all happen due to his effort/desire is like seeing his expectations line up with his reality for once and thats-- amazing. 

 It’s like asking something from Santa, baking cookies and all that. Knowing in your heart Santa isn’t real but doing it for tradition anyways. And then one moment later you realize that Santa is real. And it’s not your parents/someone you know, it’s actually Santa.

That’s how hard seeing your expectations line up with reality is when it comes to desire/need for control. Rarely can we find fair-game when it comes to what we want and seeing it happen in real time.  

Ah and also, Capricorn/Aquarius placement in a person (particularly Moon/Venus) can make a person extra shy. But they hide that well behind a mask of coolness/deliberate control. Thats why control is so important to them, because it’s like a natural armor/defense but also an achievement that they want to have. 

Sagittarius Mars/ 3rd Decan Leo 

His Mars is conjunct to his Venus at 3′ -- so thats Sagittarius Mars - conjunct- Capricorn Venus

Having this combination can make a quiet kind of person, in his actions-- he’d rather show you things physically/through effort than talk about it sometimes.

It’s about the deeper meaning and interpreting quiet ways to do things classily, with manners and respectability but undeniably proud at the same time.

What this means is that, Minghao is the type who does things through effort/natural charisma rather than relying on something like technique/style to boost himself forward. 

He’s passionate in what he does, and uses his physicality/action to show how much it means to him. (Venus-Mars)

In a way, he’s demonstrative and deliberate in what he shows to others. There’s raw passion in there as well (Sagittarius Mars) when he does something, he does it with his all and expects some kind of result to come from it (an ‘impact’ on others).

Having this placement also points to someone who has a lot of vitality, with Sagittarius Mars in Leo decan, there’s a lot of fire-power going on that makes them have to extend more of their energy to ‘let out’ some of the steam than most. 

Other than that, there’s a natural magnetism/attitude that they have that draws people in. It’s not just something they say, it’s what they do/prove to others as well.

With Sagittarius in the Mars, the person may find themselves demonstrating how they go about their life/their morals rather than just talking about it.

Combined with Capricorn Venus, most likely it’s a way to ‘back himself up’ when he says something-- providing tangible proof through effort and physical assertion in order to say the things he says and not be hypocritical/self-righteous in a way.

This placement also talks about raw instincts, with Sagittarius here-- imagine Scorpio/Aquarius/Capricorn as teenagers who talks about morally righteousness and this Sagittarius Mars being a big burly guy standing behind them backing them up.

Sagittarius is notorious for preaching about morally righteousness, nevermind if it’s conventional/politically correct or not. If it’s an idea, they will explore it and judge it. It’s similar to Scorpio, but more chaotic and less self-contained. 

With Sagittarius in Mars, there’s no way he’ll ever cheat his performance out of anything. 

Integrity comes from effort, and when he can’t perform-- best believe it hurts him the most because he feels like it’s going against his integrity somehow. 

Even if the head understands that it’s better for his health (Aquarius Moon) the heart doesn’t understand why it’s hurt by his own inability to control his efforts. 

It’s like a personal offense to Sagittarius Mars themselves if they can’t do something they want to do/set out to do. Because they hang their integrity and self-esteem on it as well. That’s their pride/ego there, and if they can’t achieve/do something about it it’ll hurt them more instead. 

Also, Sagittarius Mars is more of the flexible sign in this placement (mutable)-- this leads to a lot more spontaneous activity/bodily movement.

Impulsivity points to style of dances that allows more freestyle or flexibility involved. If he’s interested, he can even go into classical style of dance to expand his crafts (ONLY if he’s interested- Scorpio/Capricorn)-- but the set rules/standards might drive him up the wall before he gets started. 

Dancing/physical exertion isn’t a chore most of the time, it’s more like a relief/healing for him because he has fun doing it.

With Sagittarius Mars, they have fun with doing things to distract themselves from bigger problem rather than seeing it as something they HAVE to do.  As long as they can keep this mindset/not get bored of what they’re doing (having a certain degree of flexibility/personal freedom in their craft) they’re good to go for a long time.

High refractory period, not necessarily good stamina but rather a good mindset and determination/self-encouragement to get back on their feet makes them formidable people.

 Stress/anger wise, he switches between over-thinking something intensely (Aquarius Moon) and detaching from it consciously to do something physically different all together.  

Sagittarius Mars distracts the person from the problem, fight or flight in this case would choose flight until they can’t/gets confronted-- and then they explode with the Aquarius Moon on the person entirely. Laying out all their arguments and pointed notations across.  

Good thing is, Sagittarius Mars tends to forgive and forget. However, trusting the other person again (when it’s a serious problem) is another thing all together. 

As understanding and compassionate Minghao is, he is also pretty stern on appropriation and not crossing the fucking line. 

He has a high tolerance for a lot of things, able to teach and help others. But for those who insists on not helping themselves/testing others on irreparable subjects-- he might just cut them off for good.    

Other placements:

Virgo Juno Scorpio Chiron Virgo Lilith

Conclusion: 

With Minghao, alot of his placement points to taking actions/control of his immediate surrounding (including manhandling friends/people) so it might come down to Mars

His Mars is his strongpoint, not just because his Scorpio placement is ruled by Mars, but also because Sagittarius adequately sums up factors/aspects of his personalities that we’ve talked about.

He has facets of himself that’s deeply introspective, looking into his own being and personal stance on things. As well as trying to reach a deeper conclusion within himself in order to bring it outwards.

The sharing with the world part/helping to teach and guide others through his own experiences (which he does humbly) is his accumulation of placements + Sagittarius leading the troop.

His humbled nature, graciousness and natural tact/mediative quality (from Capricorn Venus) also adds to the philosophical/adaptive quality in him, making him seek multiple outlets for his interests and find ‘freedom’ in self-expression (Aquarius Moon/Sagittarius Mars) through doing stuff, rather than waiting on it forever/being too afraid to reach out for it. 

 His kindness, open-mindedness and caring nature he gives so much to others is showing Scorpio’s sensitivity and Aquarius’s quick-wittedness. 

But the ability to take action for it comes from a sense of personal integrity/responsibility that comes from Capricorn Venus/Sagittarius Mars co-operating together as well.

With Minghao, he has one main square which is his Sun-Square-Jupiter (Aquarius Jupiter aspecting at 1′) -- the rest of his charts are sextiles and conjunctions-- with multiple Moon conjunction to social/outer planets

This talks about him holding power in the mind (Aquarius Moon/Uranus conjunction) and expansion on his compassion/sympathetic qualities in order to fulfill his own emotional needs (giving so much to others = feeling grateful for the opportunity to be able to do so/exerting his energy in a fulfilling way to his inner core-- Scorpio w/ Sagittarius/Aquarius in their chart) 

 With Minghao, he has this sternness about him that can come across as a dominant person sometimes. You can’t deny the inner power/in-control he is of himself.

Even though sometimes he can be moody, desolated, impulsive or hot-tempered/abrasive in his speech, he tries his best to control those emotions (Aquarius Moon) and be in control of himself/his speech when it affects other people around him ( that he cares about- Capricorn/Scorpio).

Another thing to note is that because he has alot of introspective/depth placement in him (Scorpio/Aquarius/Capricorn) aegyo probably isn’t his strong suit. 

Being cute is more of a thing that comes naturally, through his earnestness and personal integrity rather than him flaunting it openly (cuteness) -- he also has certain shyness in him from Aquarius Moon/Scorpio Mercury/Capricorn Venus that makes him cringe to himself sometimes. 

When it comes to other people doing aegyo however, he is an encouraging and silent supporter of it because it makes them happy. 

In conclusion: Minghao is such a fun individual to read, mostly because he has a lot of things going on for his Sun/Mercury and Mars. 

With his Moon/Venus taking the lead with the direction he’s going (what he wants in life), his Sun/Mercury/Mars find themselves listening to his Moon/Venus and supporting them, finding their voice through them/co-operating with them much better as well (sextiles/conjunctions) 

A pretty straightforward guy with a lot of depth and charisma to him, he excels at the mind, the core and the action he takes. His personal relationship with other people prosper as well. 

Minghao is an example of his earth/water working well with fire/air in his placements--  instead of fighting against each other, it makes up for what each of them lack, support, accept and find their individual voice through working together instead.

 How can you not see that he’s a Scorpio President

💕 That’s it for Minghao’s reading! 💕 I hope you enjoyed!💕 To be honest, I haven’t done overviews/post anything of my own in a while so I wanted to get this out before I go to sleep (even though my eyes are blurry now). It is such a blessing that his placement is so straight forward, although I probably missed something/haven’t expanded on everything I think this is a good overview  in general and it gave me motivation to do Momo’s overview tomorrow as well. 💕 As for other seventeen overviews, I’ll be touching on Mingyu and Dokyeom next. I hope you look forward to it! 💕  

[thecorteztwins]

🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊!!!!! Scream about them!!

WOW THAT’S A LOT I’ll talk about two, Ashti and AverySo I have a ton of old OCs but I’d rather talk about the new ones I started making this year after like 4-5 years of not making them anymore.

ASHTI YILMAZHer family are Yazidi Kurds living in Germany, grandparents originally are from TurkeyTender, wistful, melancholy, manipulative, explosive. Far more emotional than logical, and quick to let her bleeding heart and overpowering passion take her reins, whether in sympathy or anger. Easy to hurt, tease, and rile. Prone to sulking, pouting, and brooding, but can shout too when pushed far enough. Has strong feelings, but these make it hard for her to take a strong stance on complicated matters, since her emotions get pulled both ways. Always feels a little out of place. Beats herself up over little things. Fancies herself the mom friend but actually needs a mom friend. Moody, immature, unconditionally supportive. Will say awful things she doesn’t mean in anger and prone to emotional blackmail when upset. Fatalistic, often just accepts that powers that be must have a plan, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. Warm but wary; always friendly to new people externally, but inside she's on the lookout for any sign they dislike her or are making fun of her, which sometimes leads her to read too much into innocent remarks or innocuous expressions. Feels more experienced than people from more privileged lives and groups, but also like they’re smarter and more accomplished. Ashti definitely has very normative ideas about gender. Nothing exceptional, just common generalizations like women are more emotional, little boys like the physical play, men can be total brutes whereas women attack with cattiness, etc. She’s also prone to romantization of bad relationships, like that jealousy means passion, control means protection, and sticking together through all your fights proves how strong your love is instead of calling it quits. This not only means she is likely to get into and stay in toxic relationships herself, but give her friends dangerous advice to do the same when they come to her with romantic troubles Unsurprisingly, she has a tendency toward tortured bad boys and getting her heart trod on. She has a complicated relationship with her culture. On the one hand, she's proud of it and defiant against any forces that try to take away or erase it. She wants to learn more about it. On the other hand, she hates that feels she HAS to learn about it, that as a tiny minority it's on her shoulders to keep carrying this legacy or risk letting it die. And she hates that all she seems to learn is about how much other people hate her, about massacres and genocides and camps and gas, no about joy and triumphs and great works of art like everyone else seems to get to have in their background. That stuff is there too, but sometimes it seems like it's just entirely overshadowed by the ongoing history of persecution, and she doesn't WANT that, she doesn't want to be defined by the SUFFERING of her people rather than their accomplishments. And she wonders, if she has to learn so much of her own culture from books, since so much of it was torn from her family long before her parents were even born and thus they couldn't teach it to her, is it really even hers? Like, really? If she has to learn it in the same way that a non-Kurd would, is she really culturally Kurdish, or just genetically? Where's the line? And can she really count HERSELF as persecuted? Her PEOPLE have suffered terribly, but if she's never been the victim of anything truly bad or overt, does she have the right to speak on that suffering and claim it by extension? One of her biggest flaws is she doesn't know her flaws. She thinks her flaws are being insecure, emotional, and loving too much. And these aren't untrue. But she's missing a whole lot of the less flattering, less endearing aspects of her personality.Dislikes when people think they (or someone else) is a good person just because they are loyal and kind to their friends, family, teammates, etc. Even genocidal dictators usually treat their own well; what really shows who you are is how you treat those who are different from you, those who disagree with you, those that you don’t know, those that you will lose nothing by mistreating?Also dislikes: Shitty apologies, they send her into an instant screaming rage * Line cutters * When people look down at fast food workers, custodians, etc., and clearly have no courtesy or respect for them (ex: carelessly leaving huge messes) * Beautiful sand sculptures because they get destroyed so fast, it actually upsets her that something that took so much talent and care is going to be so transient * Gorillas, they're scary and she's no Fay Wray * Big trucks, they make her nervousLikes: wild honeysuckle, strong tea, sweet coffee, sleepy gray cats, old patchwork quilts with a story, dark storms at sea, bright sunshine after heavy rain, rose and lavender flavored things, mountains (but not climbing them), he sight of old abandoned cottage houses overgrown with grass and vines. She’s always on the side of the common masses against those in power, but it’d be a lie to say she didn’t watch Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette “ on wistful repeat or secretly fantasize about somehow being the lost Princess Anastasia Romanov. She also loves "Beauty & the Beast" stories like "Labyrinth" and "Phantom of the Opera" about powerful and kinda evil men obsessed with beautiful naive young ingenues. Loves photos of skeletons that are embracing in their final moments, not as in props but real remains of people were found holding each other as they died, such as The Lovers of Valdaro Would love to be a model or a beauty blogger, glamorous jobs with no imagined effort where people would love her and see her as pretty. As it is she has a job as a receptionist at a ritzy spa called Tranquility.She can pop her wrists out of place, and paints/dyes silk scarves as a hobby.There’s a history of mental illness in her mother’s family, it’s never been officially diagnosed, they just say they’re “emotional” and “passionate” but actually it’s probably something more along the lines of bipolar or borderline, and Ashti isn’t affected but her mother was to a degree and her sister to an even greater one and it caused a huge rift in the family that the dynamic has never really recovered from. AVERY RUE UNDERWOODWhite American trans girl, goth/grunge, pretty much constantly dresses in the same uniform of a black slip dress with a black hoodie or flannel, or some variation on this. She has tattoos of the alchemical symbols for sulfur, salt, arsenic, and mercury, chosen for their metaphorical meanings rather than scientific. Salt, mercury, and sulfur are in her back, down the length of her spine. Arsenic is above her groin. Neutral and detached, but not disinterested or apathetic, Avery approaches most everything from a position of laidback philosophical ease. When things are too tough that it gets through even her robotic shell, she disengages externally and seems ever more the automaton, while actually dwelling on the matter for days or more internally. She can recite "Cassilda's Song" by heart, and talk for hours about the racism and insanity of Lovecraft, and how both these things are misunderstood and misconstrued equally by his devotees and detractors alike. Her icon is Mommy Fortuna from The Last Unicorn, who chose her death and kept it close to her, caged and hers til the end when it tore her to pieces--welcomed by her with open arms, still hers, hers forever.Collects antique silver plated hair brushes. She thinks a lot about how everyone has a life and internal thoughts and we just don’t know we can never really know another person. She likes to go to lonely personal blogs and Twitter accounts and the like and just follow. She rarely “likes” and even more rarely comments, she just wants to watch this little window into a random life that doesn’t have an audience to be performing for like the big accounts. Maybe it’s creepy and voyeuristic but she feels such a strange tenderness for these screen names that she never speaks too. They’re human souls, every one of them. And maybe there’s no God to hear them, but she does. Studies existentialist, nihilist, and absurdist philosophy. She learns less towards the middle, more towards the other two. Morbid and macabre she might be, but she's an idealist at her core. Some of her other interests include obscure mental disorders (Cotatd’s delusion, Capgras syndrome) , photos of the decomposition process, and the historical use of plants as both cures and poisons. She feels kinship with carrion-eaters like buzzards and hyenas, society sees them as disgusting and evil but they play an integral part in the ecosystem She believes that existence precedes essence. So she doesn't believe she was born with a female soul or anything like that. She just doesn't believe she was born with a male one either. She ended up with a female one, and she's going to facilitate that further, is what she believes. But she also doesn't think of her transition as becoming her real self, so much as taking away everything that wasn’t “her” so that only her real self is there. Like how Michaelangelo said he didn’t make David from the marble, David was already there, he just took away everything that wasn’t David. These two views contradict each other, but she works with it. She's got room for contradictions.She’s bisexual, but when she’s with women, she feels like a pervert or predator next to a “real” girl. When she’s with men, she feels like they’re the perverts, and she prefers that. She prefers feeling degraded to feeling predatory. Basically sex is going to suck for her one way or another due to her dysphoria and she’d rather it suck in the way that doesn’t make her feel like the bad guy.Her family is best described as "neutral" in terms of acceptance. They're not at all hateful, and barely questioned her decision, but they're not involved closely enough with her to be really called "supportive" at all. Everyone in her clan, including herself, are too wrapped up in their own lives to really care one way or the other about each other's, and she's good with that. She prefers it. She'd rather not be interviewed, even from people trying to be helpful; this is deeply personal to her and she finds it invasive. She is pretty good at “being the bigger person “ and not escalating things in a conflict, if only because she just doesn’t give enough of a shit to. She tolerates getting yelled at, even undeservedly, really well. She’d be brilliant in retail, she can cope with Karens all day long and not snap or get worn down. Apathy is a hell of a shield.She doesn’t hold on to people, this is good and bad. On the one hand, it means she escapes jealousy and co-dependency and needing anybody. On the other hand, some people feel it makes her disloyal or uncaring. But she's an island, and she accepts the transience of life.She doesn’t seek outside validation or feel the need to be seen as right even when she knows she is. This has allowed her to avoid a lot of arguments and stress.She might not fear violence from a philosophical viewpoint, but she sure does in her natural animal instincts. This makes her edgy around certain demographics. Straight men, religious people, right-wingers, those sorts of groups. You could argue that she's unfairly stereotyping them, much as others have unfairly stereotyped her and people like her. Sure, fair enough, but she'd still rather avoid getting her head bashed in as much as she can. It's not that everyone in these groups is a violent bigot, it's just if there's going to be a violent bigot, they're statistically more likely to be in these groups. Like when was the last time you heard of a transgender woman being murdered by a liberal lesbian atheist, right? So yeah, she's stereotyping. But she'd rather be alive and a "reverse bigot" than fair-minded and dead. She's not THAT much of nihilist.Avery’s self esteem is best defined as contrarian, taking pride in herself more based on what she’s not rather than what she is, and playing Devil’s Advocate to her own ego. She’s the first to admit that not being something bad is not the same as being something good, and in fact tends to disdain those who do the same as she does and praise themselves simply for not being fascists or bigots or abusers, but it seems like the best she can successfully argue to herself.She's completely non-judgemental of things a lot of people would find weird or creepy. Like, you write human/dinosaur a/b/o erotica? Cool, she'll edit it if you want. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, go for it LIKES:* Urban legends, occultism, cryptids, preserved oddities, the unknown* Deep seas, the night sky, vast storms, huge caves, eternal forests* The crowded isolation of the city at night* Abandoned buildings* The sigh and feel of old velvet and raw silk* Deep sea creatures and weird starfish and giant squids * Hozier, The Sisters of Mercy, Cocteau Twins, Black Tape For A Blue Girl, lo-fi, dreampop, shoegaze, every Lumineers song that has a girl's name as the title, and obscure local alternative bands that the art college radio stations only play late at night* Djarum Black clove cigarettes* Symbolist paintings (especially "Salome" and "Sisyphus" and "The Sin" by Franz Stuck)* Angela Carter, Caitlin R. Kiernan, T.K. Kingfisher, and Nabokov's lesser-known novels like Pnin and Pale FireDISLIKES* Pettiness* The smell of smoking meat, it makes her nauseous, and she's never been able to stomach a steak* Trimmed lawns and pruned gardens* The hypocritical pretentiousness so commonly found in any “alternative “ scene* So-called "horror movies" that are really just gross-out torture porn* Creepypastas that over-explain or don't know when to end* People who pride themselves on "sticking to their guns no matter what" as that seems to her to just be another way of saying they never listen to other opinions or new information because they're so sure in their own rightness* People who forget that everyone else has as much depth and life as themselves, you’re not the protagonist and these aren’t NPCs in a game* Avery is an Aquarius and even though she doesn’t believe in astrology, she still likes reading about it, and it bugs her that her sign is classed as “positive “ and “masculine"* Misuse of the term "social construct"WEAKNESSES* Gives up easily; her transition is really the only difficult thing she's ever stuck with* Navel gazing, over-thinking, gets lost in her own head* Can't make a hard decision quickly* Insomniac* Loses track of time easily* Messy slob, her apartment is DISGUSTING, don't ever be roomies with this girl* She doesn't own a car, but she can drive. She just can't park. She's terrible at parking. She goes in crooked, she goes over the line, she has to pull out and go in again a million times to get it right. STRENGTHS* Comfort with solitude, doesn't get lonely* Equally at ease with both existentialism and nihilism* A veritable whiz with subway routes and schedules* Doesn't sweat the small stuff* Hopeful at her core

[logical-east]

All I Ever Wanted Was An Interesting Life

I was sitting in the sunlight of a shopping mall, waiting for a free spirited eccentric to come and change my entire life in just four hours. We had been acquainted through a dating app, but it was agreed that this meet up was strictly platonic, and even so, was more the result of boredom than any hopes for friendship. Yet despite knowing this, I somehow envisioned this cute, polite, prince-like guy to show up with the intentions to woo me. I can see him right now: Deep voice, tall, knows how to do dishes without being asked, and who has a grin so deviously handsome, it would either stop or break my heart.

Oh my poor, underappreciated brain. How could I do this to it? To me?

I was force feeding it hopes and dreams of romance because romance is the easiest way to feel something, anything! I mean, I like falling in love just as much as the next gal, but I didn’t particularly want it right at that moment, or really at all. I just wanted to feel thrilled by something, and as I sat there in the sunlight, reading my book, I could feel something withering away like a drying up snake corpse in the sun. My life had become dull. It was barren, vapid, under stimulating, and so overpoweringly boring that I wanted to vomit - and would gladly do so just to have something interesting happen.

I hated my life and I hated myself.  

“Hello, stranger!” I glanced up from my book and tried to stifle the flash of horror and rush of second hand embarrassment. I immediately began fighting two internal wars as I defeated my arrogance, and turned to face both shame and self-disappointment. When did I become so pretentious?

He sat down across from me at the table, and nonchalantly began telling me a story, allowing me a moment to fully gulp down his tie-dye wolf shirt, sandals, worn out fannypack, and frowzy hair. Again, there was a war raging inside me. One side was of conceited nature, clearly appalled by this guy sitting across from me, while the other…

“I spent eight months living in the forest in Europe before my stuff was stolen.”  

…Was envious.

Never in my life had I ever met someone so unapologetically themselves, and although in the moment I didn’t fully appreciate it, he was the breath of fresh air I so desperately needed. My entire life I felt like I was fighting these two battles: This need to fit in, to be accepted, to be normal, to meet others expectations of me; while underneath there was a voice that was screaming to be let out. It wanted to be different, to allow me to lead with my heart, to stay true to myself, to not be bubble wrapped. It was the very thing which yelped in pain whenever I gave a piece of myself away in order to not upset the applecart, and little did I know, it would have been the one to protect me from the brutalities of both depression and anxiety. I just didn’t let it, and so I suffered.

I knew my name. I knew what I liked, what I disliked, what I wanted to be, what I didn’t want to be. I knew my favorite colour, my favorite animal, all my dark secrets, who I had a crush on, and my biggest insecurities. Hell, I even knew my medical history (save for my blood type). Just about all you needed to know about a person, I knew about myself. Yet…I struggled.

Who was I?

Why didn’t I like myself?

Why did I feel that nothing was paying off, why am I working so hard for nothing?

Those who are at war with themselves will never find peace when the war outside is over. Come rain, come shine, come good, come bad, I was miserable. The external didn’t matter because inside there was a crack that was eroding away the foundation of me. I tried to seek the validation of others to repair what I could not, but how can you use the love of another when you don’t really believe in it? Loving myself was impossible; someone else loving me was simply just mythical, something that was as likely as the real life Santa Clause.  

All I ever wanted was to live an interesting life. That’s it! That’s me, baby! I wanted to live an interesting life, and for some reason I hid myself away for so long that I missed that mark completely, and for what reason?

The answer to that was that I wanted to be loved, to be accepted by others, and so I became the version of myself that I thought they would like best, not fully realizing that, ironically, they weren’t loving me, anyways. I wasn’t giving them the chance to meet the real me. Rather, I became someone void of all boundaries, and who slowly became the punching bag of her own mind.

Funny how the brain does that – Hates itself, I mean. I always catch myself thinking, “I’m you, don’t you dare hate me. I’m you, stupid! Why are you so afraid to chase your own dreams, this what YOU want!”

Wise words, and yet they boarder on insanity just like most things worthwhile, I suppose.

Sometimes we have to help ourselves by allowing others the opportunity to love the real us, even if that’s also giving them the opportunity to hate the real us. The individual knows what’s best for them, they just need to learn to listen. I have always found that in the moment that I feel the most lost, it’s because I am being pulled in the direction that I actually want to go, but I’m not ready to let go of fear.

In closing, I want to sincerely thank Mr. tie-dye wolf shirt for calling to that inner voice of mine, and allowing me to see that I needed to try harder to change. I would have liked to continue our friendship, but sadly, he actually ended up ghosting me. Which, I’m not entirely surprised about.

In a lot of ways he was totally out of my league!

[keshyre]

a couple of things i learned, just-quit-my-job-to-pursue-my-passion edition:

1.  there’s a fine line between empathy and compromise. there is an even finer line between compromise and hypocrisy. when i started working in marikina in 2017, i was excited for the opportunity to immerse myself in a community. while DepEd had been an exciting, eye-opening experience, i missed being part of a school community and connecting with people on a personal level. i came into the experience open-minded about everything. despite my attitude in my own personal social circles, i knew better than to let politics dictate who i would connect to, learn from and work with. and i worked with people from all walks of life, spending more time listening to people than talking over them (a contrast from the noise of my online echo chambers)- and i learned a lot. but i also saw myself changing, in subtle but scary ways. there's a line from history boys that i always come back to - "but to put something in context is a step towards saying it can be explained. and if it can be explained, then it can be explained away." putting the drug war in the context of a drug-rich crime-heavy commmunity is a step towards logically explaining the disregard for basic human rights, and just a few steps more from explaining all those deaths away. putting government corruption in the context of local politics is a step towards explaining the brokenness of our political system, and a just a few steps from explaining away the lack of justice in the interest of “the greater good.” putting the politicization of social programs in the context of immediate needs and immediate solutions is a step towards explaining the necessity of propaganda, and just a few steps from explaining away the bastardization of public service. i thought if i stood there and listened, i would learn. but if you stand idly by, how different are you from the other? no different. i changed, for the worse. i was less angry at the things i should have been angry about. i could explain my outrage away by claiming compromise. and i could defend my compromise by rationalizing the duality of my own principles. it took a while but eventually i had to ask myself - if i'm not standing up for what i believe in every single day, then what was i if not a complete, total hypocrite? i left marikina because i was afraid of who i was becoming. i was afraid of my silence, my creeping indifference. i missed being angry.

2. women waste way too much of their energy working for powerful men. i was warned that government was an old boy's club. i had no illusions about what it would be like, but every now and then it was outright shocking just how blatant and sexist the environment could be. from elected officials hitting on younger female staff, to the inappopriate conduct around consituents, to the women being just as sexist as the men.  i don't even know what was worse: one of my bosses defending the hiring of sexy dancers for a government activity or a politician's wife sincerely telling me i had no business doing government grunt work when i could just work for my father or marry into public office. it was easy to be outraged at all of these external things, but it was much much harder to harness my own anger towards it. i remember on my first day at work, a local councilor wrapped his arms around me and joked that he would get in trouble with his wife if he went any further. i laughed. i laughed because i didn't know what else to do, and i laughed because everyone else was laughing. but inside i was screaming - and it took months of conscious effort thereafter to train myself not to smile when something like that bothered me. it sounds stupid, but i took great pride in being able to frown and shake my head when one of my bosses would make a dirty joke, or another would ogle a woman's body. it took much, much longer than that to begin questioning why i was even working for these men in the first place. one of the greatest parts about working in government for the past few years was the opportunity to work for some of the most dedicated public servants my age. 90% of them were women, but nearly all of us were doing the grunt work for some man. don't get me wrong - i genuinely admire some of the leaders i've had a chance to work for and with; but it blows my mind how so many of the amazing speeches, programs, policies and efforts were spearheaded by young, fiery women - and somehow government is still an old boy's club. a lot of my internal struggle about returning to teaching was relinquishing the social capital that came with a "powerful" government position and returning to a stereotypically female job. but i am tired of working for powerful men, “fighting with one hand tied behind my back,” as i am expected to smile, take the punches, and let some man take credit for my efforts. service is supposed to be selfless, and nameless, and thankless - so why is it that the men are benefitting from the selflessness, namelessness and thanklessness of women? if the brilliance of my female colleagues has proven anything, it is that women deserve better. so from here on out, that will be a conscious choice for me - for my career decisions to be ones that empower women, myself included.

3. self-care is not selfish. i spent more nights in 2018 crying myself to sleep than i care to admit. i was in a job that was killing me, eating me up from the inside out, destroying any light i thought i had left - and i truly truly believed that this was just the way life goes. i’ve always had a bit of a martyr complex, and i think this was exacerbated by an adult life pursuing a career in public service. sleeping less was an indicator that i was working harder, which was a sign that i was making a bigger difference, which meant i was a bigger catalyst for change. even when i was teaching, it was bata bago sarili. and then i tried working for government and it became bayan bago sarili. when i quit my job earlier this year, i was terrified of the freedom i would have to take care of myself (finally, and for once). what i didn’t realize was that self-care didn’t mean splurging on luxuries or turning my back on others. instead, for me self-care meant pursuing all the same goals but less like a rat-race and more thoughtfully, more fully, more lovingly. i remember the months/weeks/days before i started my first teaching job back in 2013, i felt like i never had enough time to be the kind of teacher my students deserved. the day before i stood in front of my first set of students, i was painting my classroom and wiping down glass windows while reviewing my lesson plan in my head. and everyday after felt like a reminder of just how not enough i clearly was. now, i’ve spent the last few months reading, studying, learning, preparing for my return to the classroom and i have never felt more whole, more ready to serve, and more ready to give than ever before.

4. service can go wide, or it can go deep. neither is the better choice, but the point is to choose. so, i’m finally making a choice and committing to it. i choose to dive in deep.