#someone who believed that it is in their nature that they are unlovable

[moliathh]

the scorpion and the frog

[my-castles-crumbling]

25 days of jegumas day 12 - traditions - @noblehouseofgay - word count: 397

Euphemia Potter took her Christmas traditions extremely seriously. 

Christmas, she believed, was a time for love and family. For reminding those that you hold dear how much they mean to you, and taking time to be thankful for them.

And though she had always fancied herself a pretty adaptable person, she had certain traditions that she believed ought to be upheld.

Her favorite of these was gifting Christmas scarves.

She started before James was even born, knitting for her parents and Monty, making sure everyone was warm in the cold months. It brought her a strange sense of comfort, to know they were cared for. And that just grew as she was able to provide for her own son.

She knew that by age fifteen, James found it a bit silly. By now he had enough scarves to cover his entire body and then some. But it warmed her heart to spend the time hand-knitting for her son, and to see him always good-naturedly wrap the scarf around his neck, grinning and murmuring, “Thanks, mum, it’s perfect.”

Monty, too, accepted the scarf with a kiss and a loving hug. 

But she didn’t realize how important the tradition was until Sirius Black stumbled upon her doorstep. 

Skinny, tired, and horribly unloved, the boy in front of her practically melted the first time she pulled him into a hug.

And when she gifted him a scarf on Christmas morning?

He burst into tears.

It had felt natural to her. He was, for all intents and purposes, her son. She loved him, cared about him, and wanted to see him succeed. Why not knit for him? But when she saw Sirius’s reaction, a deep sense of loss hit her square in the chest. She mourned the family that Sirius deserved, but never had.

Which is why she was so very excited when James brought Regulus home.

The way James and Regulus looked at each other nearly made Effie sob, and though she saw Sirius in the younger boy, she saw someone more hardened and scared, too. She saw someone who desperately needed a family.

So she was thrilled to knit for him. To wrap the lumpy package and leave it under the tree for Regulus on Christmas morning, just like she did for James and Sirius.

And when Regulus started crying?

She was thrilled to pull him into a hug.

[dondeeee911]

Why your FS won’t let you go 🫂

Wait! Don't go...

Hug 1 > Hug 2 > Hug 3

Pile 1

 “You see me, you accept all of me without conditions, I can let my guard down around you, I feel safe🥺”. For quite some time, your person has struggled with being seen and heard. They just never understood why recognition was so easy for others and not them. They’ve felt unloved, lonely, and imperfect. Your FS thrives off of your admiration, opinions, and your presence. They never knew someone could be so fascinated by them. The simple fact that YOU acknowledge them makes them feel sooo special.🥹They appreciate your attentiveness and support with all they do. Wow, you have been their biggest supporter in life, willing to be around while they go chase after those dreams. Dont take that for granted! Your uplifting spirit and words of positivity are what make them value you, it’s something worth not losing. You make them feel desired, inside and out.

Pile 2

   In a world full of sh*** people, they found solace in you. Your FS has had it with people who make no effort to love and be loved correctly. People who lack the decency to be a better person for themselves and others. When your person sees you, they get this gist that you are a person who’s in continuous competition with yourself, outdoing the outdated versions of who you used to be. They look up to you and your transformative nature,✨like a life coach; there is always something to learn from you; to improve on. Being left behind with those who leave themselves behind is not where your person wants to be. Now, your lover wants to be better for you and with you! “ I’d rather be where you are, wherever you are, im never going to be without you”. You are their lighthouse, a beacon forever lighting the way.🫶🏽

Pile 3

  They don’t believe in giving up on the things they love, and maybe that’s the downside, but they don’t care when it comes to you. Not even the tiniest disagreements would make them call it quits. You may start arguments. It seems you are easily triggered by things said and done or threaten to leave because in the past you’ve endured a bit too much, but the thought of your person losing you hurts; they would rather you stay and they endure that pain for you. There is something in you that they see as worth saving, a rare essence and energy you carry that can’t be replicated, and that, they just can’t give up on. Yeah, It was easier for them to discard others in their past because they just “knew”, but you love, your love hits differently. They believe if they stay and heal with you they will be rewarded with the love of a lifetime.“ I see your potential, and i’m not giving up” 🤝🏽🤞🏽

Copyright © 2024 dondeeee911. All rights reserved.

[kalki-tarot]

WHAT ARE THEIR REAL FEELINGS FOR YOU ? 🦢 pick a pile ♡

disclaimer : only for entertainment purposes and may not be 100% correct all the times.

This reading is not about love, crushes, fs etc. Not about romantic connections.

Pile 01

This is a very sweet energy 😭 whomever you are asking about really appreciates your presence in their life. They might suffer with a low self worth or feelings of being unworthy and unloved. But you, fill their cup with so much of love and care. Your affection makes their cry. Like how can someone be so sweet and loving. They can't believe that such an innocent and unconditionally loving person really exists in their life. They are very grateful for you. They also have invested or started saving some small amount of money for you both. It's a small start but will definitely help you both in future. This person is thinking of the long term with you. You give them hope to survive in this cruel and harsh world.

Pile 02

This person feels like you are different from everybody else. They find you unique and interesting, maybe you have some niche interests which most people don't have or smth like that. They find it really intriguing about you. They find your aura motherly and nurturing, but you also have great boundaries when it comes to people. This person feels like you trigger them to change. Your words of wisdom really screws up this person's mind in a good way ofc. That's why they find you interesting. They want to know more about you. It's like a mysterious aura surrounds you. They also feel like you have struggled a lot in life, people may have betrayed you and they see you with respectful eyes for that. They also find you very giving materialistically. You don't hesitate to pay for a friend who has forgotten their purse, they notice that kind nature of yours. They also feel like you are leader like.

Pile 03

They feel like you are a very hardworking and focused and goal oriented person. You want to achieve big things in life. The person you are asking about may be a mentor or a teacher or someone along those lines. They see how diligently you do things and even the smallest things are carved with perfection. They definitely know that you are gonna make it big in life if you continue doing so. They wish well for you and see you as their junior.

Not much is coming here as this person sees you from a distance and you guys may work in a professional setting but they will definitely be nice to you if you initiate some conversations.

[rtfics]

"Lydia's terrified of Beetlejuice."

OK, watch this scene. unmute.

Yeah, Lydia's startled when Beej suddenly appears behind her, because he suddenly appears behind her. She'd be startled if anybody did that.

She immediately tells him what she needs. There's no screwing up her courage or swallowing in fear. She speaks to him like someone she knows well and has known for a long time. She doesn't hesitate, as one would with someone who scares them.

When he says there'd be a quid pro quo she knows he'd ask this. Of course he would. She knows this because she knows him. It doesn't intimidate or frighten her. She directly asks what he wants, and of course she knows that too. She doesn't even pause in reaction to hearing about the ex-wife. She knows about the ex-wife; she saw her finger and wore her ring decades before.

Lydia's persistent, open-mouthed reaction to Beetlejuice isn't horror or fear. Her over-medicated brain -- people forget she's on fucking mood-suppressing drugs-- is stumped by his behavior. She's been surrounded by false friends and a fake boyfriend for years. She's been harassing and harassed by the dead while doing Ghost House. There's the whole Show Biz element piled on top of that, which is nothing but bullshit.

Beetlejuice doesn't lie to her or try to take advantage of her. Unlike everyone else in her life, except Delia and Astrid, Beej is absolutely straight-forward.

Lydia knows this. So when she calls him she's naturally awed by his intentionally impressive Entrance, but the moment they're face to face they're like an old married couple who know each other inside and out. She's not scared of him at all. She knows he would never hurt her or Astrid.

What does stump her is the depth of his emotion. She was probably expecting "OK, let's get this marriage thing over with so I can be Free." Instead, he fucking woos her. That is, after he reveals that her fiance is the user everyone thinks Beej is.

Notice Lydia doesn't think the Truth Serum is making Rory lie. It'd be easy to believe Beetlejuice is forcing Rory to say things he doesn't mean, just as he makes people lip-sync and dance. But Lydia doesn't doubt it for a second. She knows Rory's telling the truth. She's been suppressing her better instincts about him for however long they've been together. And why? After she and Richard fell out of love did she feel unlovable? And Rory saw she was easy prey because of it.

Lydia's seeming fear during the wedding is actually her being gob-smacked. The man she thinks she's supposed to be repelled by is treating her better than anyone she's ever known, except possibly Richard and Delia. He's helped her repeatedly. The marriage contract, well, can she blame him, after how she reneged on him before?

And because she's not scared or intimidated by Beetlejuice, because she knows he'll never hurt her or her family, Lydia scorns him and breaks her promise again. It's actually common in therapy for the patient to take things out on the people who love and help them. Lydia would be embarrassed that she allowed herself to be manipulated and used. So she shoots the messenger.

The antis saying she's scared of him can get stuffed.

[artist-issues]

I love the comments and defense of the original Snow White but some people are not taking the defensive position that I would take, all things considered.

I mean, asking the question “since when is it bad to wish for love?” is one thing, but then sometimes people follow it up with, “and that’s not all she wanted! That’s not her main goal!”

Okay I appreciate you but yes it was. Let’s just call it like it is. And then don’t back down. Hear me out.

The first thing you learn about Snow-White is from that pretty opening-fairy-tale-book page, where it points out two characters: the wicked and vain stepmother who is afraid of Snow White and dresses her in rags to cover up her beauty, and uses her as a scullery maid—and Snow White herself, who is…well, used as a scullery maid.

Treated as a servant, and actively hated by the only family she has. And she’s a child. She hasn’t been alive very long to experience anything other than hatred and jealousy toward herself.

She’s even talking to birds, and the fact that they’re clustered around her from beginning to end of that opening scene indicates that they’re very comfortable with her and she talks to them all the time—because they’re the only positive interaction she gets to have.

That’s the situation that Snow White is in. But the first thing you learn about who she is and what she wants comes when she wishes in the well. And what’s she wishing for?

Love. The one she loves. A specific, male figure, who will say nice things to her and find her. She wants him to come quick. Why?

How silly. How vapid and shallow of her. How weak and one-dimensional. Please, goodness, can’t someone update her to have some depth?

NO. She is a young woman who is not given any love and is treated like a horrible nuisance who must be covered up in dirt and rags. She has no friends except birds, who can’t talk back. She is actively hated by the closest person to her.

It’s a miracle she even knows the word “love” and has the strength of character to believe in it after the situation she’s grown up in.

The song very specifically says “I’m wishing…for the one I love…to find me…today. I’m hoping…and I’m dreaming of…the nice things…he’ll say.”

She wants to be loved because she isn’t loved. Geez, she wants someone to say nice things to her. She wants to give her own love because she doesn’t have anything but courtyard doves to befriend. Of course it’s her goal. Of course it’s her wish. What wish or goal could be higher? And what wish or goal could be more natural for a character in her situation?

And even more than that, what could be stronger than believing that it will happen? This character who’s been unloved and mistreated by everyone takes a Prince at his word when he says he’ll give her that love. He promises it, and she believes him.

She has every opportunity and right to be bitter, hardened, anti-social, self-absorbed (pre-Huntsman and Dwarfs, she could very easily believe that nobody else is going to watch out for her except herself) and jaded. But instead she has this pure faith, which it takes a lot to maintain when everything has been ripped away from you. She could’ve been totally swamped by doubt and bitterness.

I mean, she could worry that the Prince won’t be able to convince her Stepmother to let him marry her.

Then when she gets chased into the woods for her life, she could fret that the Prince wouldn’t know how to find her.

Heck, she could just forget about him, give up, and say, “this is my life now, I’m living with these seven dwarfs and we’ll take care of each other, I guess that’s the most I can hope for.”

But no. She has faith in his promise, and hangs on to her dream, and sings, with total assurance, “Someday My Prince Will Come.” I mean, she won’t even let a moment of panic in the woods go by without reprimanding herself for losing that faith, for a second.

Can any of you say the same? Can any of you imagine being that kind of person: the kind of person who unashamedly wants to love and be loved in return, and when everything is stripped away and every chance at that taken from you, you hang on and believe anyway? You stay positive and even joyful anyway? For love?

Come on. Defend that. Yes, her goal was “just” to be loved. And to love in return. The fear of having her life taken from her, the necessity (not the desire for) freedoms from that, was just an obstacle in the way of being loved. And this isn’t a movie about Snow White’s natural reaction to abuse. It’s about her strength of faith in love in SPITE of that abuse. The spotlight is on her strength, not her weakness, but it’s strength of faith in love.

Anyway.

If you believe that it’s good and fine for a girl’s whole goal and fondest dream is to be loved, then don’t stand with one foot in that camp and another in the camp that says “girls want more than just love.” No, what? Love is the best thing a girl can want. I’m not talking about “romance.” I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about pure, self-sacrificial, kind love. It’s the best thing they can want, and Snow White is one of the only characters who does want it unashamedly, uncomplicated.

Just defend that. Don’t try to argue that the “Someday My Prince Will Come” Princess isn’t wholeheartedly after love. Makes it look like you don’t believe that’s as wonderful as it is.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I'm not one to police how "dark" people should make their fan content, or to act like there's something morally wrong with making a character go through hardship or with having a kink, but man, there sure is a noticeable pattern in how zutarians imagine Katara.

Every attempt to "empower" her always comes with some for of humiliation, violence, trauma or loss of identity.

No one is allowed to love her and treat her well. Not her dad, not her brother, not her friends, not her canon love interest. She needs to be just babysitter/cinderella to them. She needs to be made to feel lonely, isolated, disregarded and unloved until Zuko shows up to the rescue.

Gone is her strong connection to her tribe, that made her want to honor it even when she was traveling the world like she dreamed of. Instead she'll long to be part of the nation that almost erased her culture, commited genocide against her people and killed her mother. Gone is her right to be mad at them for it, even though she canonically always stops herself from letting that anger cross the line into blind hatred.

Instead SHE is the one who needs to learn a lesson on "not judging people just because they're different", and making them learn basic empathy towards someone they see as "other" is no longer on them, or on the guy that literally stepped up for that role of his own free will. Nope, that burden should be on Katara's shoulders instead. It's her job to convince the racists that she is, in fact, a human being and deserves to be treated like one.

And she should always be wearing red instead of the colors of her tribe, her children should grow up in the Fire Nation palace, preparing to inherit that throne (aka their father's legacy), and any waterbender she gives birth to will absolutely be taught bloodbending as that is supposedly Katara's legacy - even though she never wanted to learn it and refuses to use it 9 times out of 10 because she finds it immoral AND it is a source of trauma for her, as it was used by a predatory adult to violate her body.

She should not be "Just the Avatar's girl" and "Aang's reward" (even though she was always her own damn self before anything and their romance was a "reward" to both of them), but instead should be just the Fire Lady - after all, in their eyes, Zuko "deserves her more" and that's somehow Not The Same.

Gone is her right to remain a kind, compassionate soul. Instead she needs to let anger consume her and push her to do things she finds morally wrong, like murder or bloodbending, because she needs to hate pacifism so she can hate Aang by proxy.

In fact, Aang should be made to be the REAL source of oppression and violence in her life (combined with her tribe and family of course).

Compassion should no longer be something they both believe in, it should be an idea Aang tries to force into her head. The scars on her hands after he accidentally burns her should be permanent, not healed by Katara herself, to make her more of a victim (with "parallels" to Zuko) and Aang more of a bastard. Aang not wanting to let go of her should be a result of obsession and entitlement, not a combination of his own trauma, the natural desire to be with those he cares about, and the very explicit fact that Katara did not want to be let go of (see her reaction to him leaving in The Awakening).

And more importantly, Aang horribly failing to read the room and kissing her when she didn't want to be kissed, and immediately chastising himself for it because he meant no harm, should be turned into him full on forcing himself on her, preferably more than once. The more traumatizing the better, so Zuko looks like even more of a hero when he saves her.

But that is not say that he needs to be a perfect gentleman when rescuing her, oh no. It's totally fine if what "frees" Katara from the "burdens" that are her family, friends and culture is being taken to the Fire Nation against her will, especially if she's not just a regular prisoner, but instead made to forcibly marry Zuko - or be his sex slave. It's totally fine is this "rescue" involves her being beaten into submission and assaulted until she learns to like it. It's for her own good. It's "feminist" when Zuko does it to her. It's only abuse when Aang does it.

And obviously any anger she has ever felt towards Zuko, even when he sent an assassin after her group, is really just her being "mad at herself" because, secretly, she TOTALLY wants him to do exactly that.

Truly the perfect way to "empower" a character. Mutilate them until they fit in the box you designed for them - and then call people "fake fans" who just "don't understand or care about the character" when they say they liked the original version way more.

Zutarians really shot themselves in the foot with that "holier than thou" attitude. It's IMPOSSIBLE to take their version of "respecting Katara's character" seriously.

[sweetdispatch]

Memories - M. Rempe

Songs masterlist

song: Memories - Conan Gray

pairing: Matt Rempe x ex girlfriend!reader

summary: Matt broke up with her out of nowhere. Now he wants to repay the damage. Will she let him?

warning: none

words: 1.1k

note: getting super close to end of the series☹️

---

She and Matt were a perfect match. They met in Seattle when both were 17 and since then, they’d been together. He loved how she got along with his family and she loved how caring and loving he was. For the next couple years, everything was going smoothly and despite their young age, they imagined their future together. 

It all changed when Matt had to move to Hartford. She didn’t want to drop her life and go with him on the other side of the country. Her whole life was in Seattle and she wanted it to stay like that, at least until she graduates in college. He understood this and they agreed to on long distance relationship. 

Everything went down right after New Year's Eve. Matt became cold towards her. She couldn’t understand what went wrong and tried to talk with him. She flew to Connecticut to confront him. What she hadn't expected was the fact that she’s about to come back home single and heartbroken. He just ended things with her without any proper reasoning. 

That’s just about enough time

For me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures

It’s been six months since Matt broke up with her. It was a difficult time for her. He was her first love. They’ve been together for four years and he just decided to throw out their relationship just because. She still didn’t know why he had done it. She was questioning herself and truly believed that she was the problem.

She cried herself to sleep every night. She was mourning over their relationship. Her friends tried to help her to forget about him but she couldn't. After half of a year, she finally felt like she had control over her life again. When someone mentioned him, she didn’t cry. She just shrugged her shoulders. It was still hurtful for her, but she moved on. 

I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance

After graduation, she decided to change her apartment. This one brought her too many memories about Matt. It was a chilly June day when she was packing her things into boxes. She heard knocking on her door and thought one of her friends came to help her. What she hadn't expected was Matt standing in front of her with roses.

She froze on the spot. She hadn't knew how to react. She thought that she would never see him again yet Matt was standing in the entry, hopeful that she will let him in. He snapped her out of the trance when he asked if he can come in. She moved so he could enter her apartment. He was surprised to see all the boxes. Still, she hasn't said a word to him. She hadn’t had anything to say to him. 

I wish that you would stay in my memories

Matt tried to give her flowers but she crossed her arms on her chest. He started apologising her. He said how much he missed her and how miserable his life is without her. She hadn’t said anything. He was having a monologue but still, he was speaking to her and tried to convince her to say anything back. She started crying while he was explaining himself.

All the memories came back to her. When Matt was talking it felt so natural, just like it was before they broke up, when he was rambling after coming back from games. It hurt her. He opened her wound in heart that he left which she had healed by now. She hated it. As much as she loved him, she didn’t want to see or hear from him ever again.

I can’t be your friend, can’t be your lover

Matt stopped talking. He was looking at her and waited for her move. She took a deep breath before she spoke. She threw all her pain at him and how she felt unwanted and unlovable by the way he ended things between them. Now he was the one who started crying. He never thought how much he hurt her. He regretted it and asked her if they could be at least friends.

She laughed at him. She never thought that Matt could be so bold to ask this stupid question. As much as she wanted it, she knew that the right call was to completely cut him off. She felt that if they became friends, it would turn into a relationship. She didn’t need this mess again. He was pleading with her but she was stubborn and put herself in the first place. 

I guess I’ll let you stay

For as long as it takes

To grab your books and your coat

After she told him that this is over, she returned to packing. Matt asked if he can at least help her and then he will leave her forever, on what she agreed. When he started gathering things from the drawer, she stopped him. She told him that he can help her but by picking up his things. She didn’t want to have anything related to him. 

Matt listened to her and started from his books. All the memories came to him when he was reading her those books so she could fall asleep. Later he went to her bathroom and took his cosmetics. He was surprised that she still kept them, certain, that she threw them away when he broke up with her. After that, he went to her bedroom to clean his nightstand. It was untouched. There was still their picture from prom on which he used to look every night before going to sleep. He smiled seeing how happy they were. 

At the end, Matt went to her wardrobe. He opened it and saw only his clothes. He was standing in front of it when she came through the door and told him that she cleaned it from her clothes and only his are left. The amount of his t-shirts and hoodies made him sad. He loved seeing her in his clothes. They were too big for her but she looked so hot walking around in them. He missed this view.

When Matt grabbed all his things, he looked at her hoping that she had changed her mind. This hadn’t happened. She thanked him for the help and joked that he saved her the money from sending those things to him. He sadly smiled at her and said final goodbye. The minute he left, she started crying. His presence felt normal to her but she knew it’s the only option for her. She needed to protect herself from being hurt again by him.

[ginnvngagap]

no, Jayce Talis didn't mean "Viktor, your terminal illness and physical disability that causes you constant pain are fxcking awesome actually, you should totally enjoy them" he meant "Viktor, your terminal illness and psysical disability don't make you any less loveable and I never saw you as weak or pitiful because of them. in my eyes, you were always perfect."

I have a feeling this take stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of what internalized ableism (or bigotry in general) actually is.

as a personal example, I don't exactly agree with the autism as a superpower narrative, and I refuse to be ashamed of not being proud of every single aspect of my neurodivergence and mental illnesses. no, I don't want a cure, because it still defines me as a person, but if someone announced tomorrow that they can fix my autistic inertia, executive dysfunction or sensory problems with just a flip of a switch, I'd accept that in a heartbeat. not wanting to suffer is not the same as thinking I am worthless or lazy because of my neurodivergence.

as another example of internalized bigotry: I've seen a user on the bird app having to defend herself against people who insisted that thinking periods are gross and unpleasant to have is her hating her womanhood. but listen, I fxcking hate having a uterus. I hate that I can get pregnant (I have tokophobia), and I hate periods with a fiery passion (and mine aren't even that painful, I rarely have cramps and they always last around 5 days). I don't like how they feel, I don't like the pain, the mood swings, and yes, I find blood coming out of my vagina gross, especially when it includes those little chunks. it's just a very uncomfortable experience overall. this however doesn't mean that I think I should be treated as impure, or inferior. I don't think it's okay to treat me as if I'm an inherently irrational creature (although I'd argue that all humans are, but I digress) incapable of a single logical thought because of my cycle, and I don't feel ashamed of asking for a pad or a tampon, because it's a natural bodily function and no one should ever be shunned for it.

bigotry is a social construct, it's shame, discrimination, ostracization. it's the belief that certain ways of being are inherently shameful and should be purged from "civilized" society, because to the "correct" people, they aren't even human.

Viktor not wanting to die or be in pain isn't the problem, and Jayce has already demonstrated that the only thing he hates about those conditions is that he doesn't want to lose his partner and he doesn't want him to suffer. the problem is that Viktor believed his illness and disability made him inferior and unloveable. he wanted to fix himself not just because he didn't want to die or suffer, but because he was convinced he needed to achieve perfection in order to be loved and accepted, to be a worthy partner of Jayce.

but this kind of thinking is what leads to erasing everything that makes us human, that makes us unique. that was Viktor's greatest error, wanting so badly to transcend the human condition, he risked erasing human lives all together.

[star-anise]

So, Easy Beauty by Chloé Cooper-Jones is not by any means a straightforward tale of the specific traumas and experiences of being a disabled woman. In many ways, it's an examination of how holding onto those traumas too tightly can keep you not just from positive chances for connection and experience, but understanding when your choices and behaviours are hurting other people.

But. It does talk about the trauma. And specifically, this splinter I've spent months now slowly drawing out of my soul, because this never happened to me except for the version of it that did happen to me. In her case, it was a conversation with a friend in high school:

I approached him in the library of our school. He was studying for a geometry test. He saw me, closed his notebook, and smiled. “I feel like,” he said, teasing me, “there might be something you want to talk to me about.” I told him yes, there was, and I said that I wanted to go to the homecoming dance with him and would he take me. “Of course,” he said. Relief flooded through me so quickly it turned my stomach. “But,” he continued, “there’s something very important I need to talk to you about first.” He proceeded to tell me that our female friends had been pressuring him for weeks to ask me to the dance, not wanting me to feel left out. “They love you,” he said, “but they pity you and their pity won't help you in the world.” I can, to this day, recall the exact even tone in his voice, his smile. He reached across the table and took my hand. “I want to tell you something as your friend,” he said. “I want to protect you. When you ask a man like me on a date, you put us in a bad position.” He was still smiling; I was having a cute delusion and was in need of his loving, if uncomfortable, correction. “It’s just the truth,” Jim said. “No man will want to date you unless he, too, is desperate or ugly.”

What I've felt, since I was very young, was this sense not just that no one would ever love me, but that I was so pitiful, so unlovable, such a complete failure of femininity, that expressing interest in another person was tantamount to forcing them to pity-fuck me. And how could I do something that horrible to them?

Well, at least in the years since then, I've learned that actually people feel no compunction about rejecting me!

I have almost always felt like such a complete failure at femininity, to the point that discussions about the female experience feel hypnotically surreal, because these things never happen to me. Y'all get catcalled and hit on? I'm struggling to dredge up memories of experiencing that firsthand. I grew up with grownups always warning me about men who'd want me for sex but didn't actually love me, and now I'm like... being wanted for sex? What's that like? I have literally ten seconds of experience of my desire for someone else being something that excited and interested them.

This is my own personal neurosis, not a prescription for widespread behaviour. But I've always kind of hated when people talk about slowburn romances and stories with pining as "two idiots in love" because on a visceral level, it doesn't feel stupid to me to believe you're repulsive and nobody will ever want you. It has always felt like the natural and obvious conclusion to enter adulthood with.

Up until two weeks ago I've always been very careful to describe my feelings about my body as part of me being crazy--I hate the way I look, I don't like seeing or hearing recordings of myself, I think I'm not pretty. Because obviously that means I'm actively working to rid myself of those emotions and attitudes! I've got it handled! I've admitted that I have a problem!

And that's because I always had it locked away in my heart that if I tried to make a factual claim about being ugly, people would say "No you're not!" just to make me feel better, and then I would never ever know if anyone who found me attractive really meant it, or if they were just doing it out of pity.

That is crazy. That's holding onto the lesson of that fucking shitbag who found Chloé attractive and fuckable two months fucking later once he got over himself. That's sitting around waiting for someone to come climb up into my unfuckable tower and do all the work of establishing a relationship themselves. That's lesbian sheep behaviour.

It's only just begun to feel possible that I could begin to take steps to seek people out and express interest in them, instead of holding perfectly still and making someone else do all the heavy lifting to get to me, when I haven't even made it known I wanted them to.

But this doesn't get talked about as part of "the female experience". When men talk about women's experiences in the dating market, they absolutely never mean women like me. Why bother with the experiences of women they wouldn't want to fuck anyway? It's not like we're people or some shit like that.

[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[shizunitis]

Luo Binghe & Tianlang-Jun: Origins. And a Bit of Projection.

Disclaimer: This is basically just a collection of quotes from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Volume 3, accompanied by (adjective) thoughts, and then even more relevant quotes listed at the end. If I could, I’d paste the entirety of Chapter 18.

“As expected, I can’t bring myself to hate humans.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 21: Always Together

I will always be conflicted on the topic of Tianlang-jun, and it annoys me. There is so much I could say about him, and so little I can successfully articulate. He is, to me, more confounding, complex and tragic than Shen Jiu.

He’s pitiful and awe-inspiring, wicked and affable, cunning and wide-eyed in his curiousity. He is a compelling, heartbreaking character. He alternates between emotionless wisdom and mournful apathy. I admire how his knees don’t buckle under the weight of his grief, but how he crumbles at the barest hint of hope. How rage claws at him and, still, he can’t figure out how to make it stick.

I empathise with him. I understand him.

But then, in the distance, Luo Binghe's indifferent voice disturbs the silence, causing me to drop my drink onto the floor and this post onto your screen:

“He’s not my father.”

It’s an interesting exercise, exploring their relationship in reconciliation fics. To see them interact (semi-)honestly, watch them take turns filling up the chasm between them. It’s wonderful. Every fic I’ve read centred around them was a delightful read that I still think about.

However. I cannot see Tianlang-Jun, as I understand him, as Luo Binghe’s father. And not just because of the 3rd Novel’s events.

But because Binghe had hoped for something; he did have that wide-eyed wonder. He did hold one last window open, for the sake of an improbability he couldn’t quite, just yet, dismiss.

It’s what (most) orphaned and/or adopted childred do.

Though Luo Binghe had never said a word about it before, Shen Qingqiu knew that he harbored some fantasies about his birth parents. […] In fact, he’d always secretly fantasized about whether his parents might still be alive, and how well they’d treat him, and how they’d never let him suffer the mildest slight. — Vol. 3, Chapter 17: Tianlang

It is the most human thing; to want to be helped, accepted, invited by those given to you. A family is given to you. Whether you believe it an act of the divine, of nature, of coincidence, it isn’t something you fight for. It’s the first and, arguably, only thing you don’t have to fight for in life.

Depending on a multitude of factors, that can be a blessing or a curse; but where there is room for interpretation, questions left unanswered, most childred—Binghe included—will turn to their imagination, and try to make sense of it. Usually, to comfort themselves, to reassure themselves that surely, if their family could, they would have.

And, yeah. Most likely, if the Palace Master had gotten punted into the Sun like he fucking deserved, they would have. But does it matter?

In the face of a bleak reality, what comfort is a could-have-been?

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. […] Luo Binghe was in fact…someone who was unloved by even his own parents. — Vol. 3, Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

What use are good intentions to an abandoned child? What consolation is it, to say, They gave birth to you, when that child has seen no evidence of their care? Does it dry their tears, that their mother can’t be here, but she surely would have wished to be? That their father would protect them, if only he knew of them?

(And don’t make me tell you about the visceral horror I felt reading the Origins chapter. I’ve yet to make my peace with it. MXTX, Airplane, whoever: you’ve ruined me.)

The washerwoman was and continues to be, to Binghe, his only mother. And I would argue, that’s healthy. Even independent of his other traumas (Abyss, Shizun’s betrayal, Xin Mo’s influence, living on the streets, etc, holy shit Binghe) Luo Binghe will not accept anyone else as his mother.

“Who is this Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked coldly. “My mother was a mere washerwoman.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 18: Origins.

It may seem callous. It probably even is! But it is a healthy line he’d drawn by his own initiative. It’s what helps him, what he feels he needs to do in order to do right by his mother, and his own heart.

And! Tianlang-Jun doesn’t seem to give much of a shit, either!

Won’t, probably, even in the future, once the dust will have settled. He is exhausted, weary with carrying the corpse of his love, the loss of his nephew. Whatever goodwill he shows, it’s a perfunctory sort, because he can’t afford more.

So. Uhh.

Tianlang-Jun is not a character I can love, nor one I can hate. Usually, I can’t help but be inclined to love complex characters. Like them, too—though that’s more of an action-based thing rather than just said character’s personality.

But with Tianlang-Jun, I’m stuck whichever way I turn. If I want to love/like him, I’m drawn back by Binghe’s pain and disappointment. If I try to hate/dislike him, I’m drawn back by his own history and grief.

In conclusion:

I don't know! I'm not really trying to, like, prove anything. I still love the aforementioned TLJ & LBH fics, I still love their dynamic. I started walking and ended up exactly in the same space. This, perhaps, could be considered a Heavenly Demon Family Mobius Strip!

I'm not really trying to say anything. It just… makes me feel conflicted, and angry, and whenever I allow myself to think about it a bit more, sad.

But.

However!

Alas.

Nonetheless, even.

As a reader and—on my better days—a writer, all I can say is:

As promised/threatened: some selected passages, for your reading pleasure:

So, it looked like neither the father nor the cousin had any intention of acknowledging Luo Binghe. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

Tianlang-Jun lifted his hand, took a look at Luo Binghe’s snow-pale face, and commented indifferently, “He looks like his mother.” “His eyes look like yours,” came a chill voice from the side. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

The faint hopes and dreams Luo Binghe had held in his heart for many years had been mercilessly pulverized into so much dust. […] [Tianlang-Jun] refused to speak a single word of their relationship and had been utterly ruthless back in the Holy Mausoleum. […] To his parents, Luo Binghe was an unwanted child. — Chapter 18: Origins

“If he was my father, why didn’t he bring it up earlier? Why not tell me?” The most Tianlang-Jun had said was that single line he offered while beating up Luo Binghe, devoid of either praise or criticism: “He looks like his mother.” He looks like his mother. What of it? But that was all. There was nothing more. — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe was indifferent. “He’s not my father.” […] Luo Binghe shook his head. It was unclear what he was stubbornly clinging to, but he repeated, “He’s not my father.” — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe raised his smiling face, his eyes shining brightly. “Mother was the kindest person in all the world to me.” — Chapter 19: Shen Jiu

[mr-nauseam]

The day came to talk about Coriolanus' need for maternal affection and how that causes him to fall prey to Gaul's manipulations.

I'll get rid of the straw. From my perspective is natural for Coriolanus to some extent to long for the absent figure of his dying father to be covered in some way but I think this is intimately related to his idea of masculinity and rather than looking for someone external to fulfill this role in his life. He himself tries to be the one to fill his father's shoes once he passes away. And while I don't deny that he obviously had some affection (mostly admiration) for him, the truth is that even Coriolanus tells us the person who gave him love. Who filled this emotional void was his mother and he lost her very soon.

This is I think the void he is constantly trying to fill by looking for it in other people in his life. Or in other words I don't personally believe Coriolanus that someone is his father, he is desperately looking for a mother.

So the Snow's like the Plinth's are traditional families. The male head of the household goes out to work, he is the one who holds all the purchasing power and his labors will rarely focus on developing an emotional connection with his children. Crassus we could argue by his character if he had lived he would have wanted to cultivate this bond as we know Strabo tried although with disastrous results. I personally don't think Crassus would have tried, and what little Coriolanus remembers seems to indicate that this could be the case and it didn't seem to conflict him. Unlike in the case of Sejanus.

Before going into the obvious, I think we can freely say that Coriolanus was not so worried or burdened by an unloving father because his mother filled this void. Again under the traditional scheme the wife, housewife devotes herself exclusively to her children but again Sejanus has a loving mother why in him has this need manifested itself? I think it comes from the fact that Strabo would later try to cultivate this bond and had the opportunity to live long enough with Sejanus to create a conflicted relationship.

If Crassus had been alive he would have created a conflicted relationship with Coriolanus? Perhaps. It is likely but that is pure speculation, the reality is that he died and there is no such conflicted relationship in the corresponding sense. Coriolanus never felt loved by his father but that never mattered because he did not have the opportunity to have an emotional bond that would alter him emotionally, most of his conflicts arise from what his father represents. Again, he is more of an ideal of masculinity and social being to reach.

The case of Coriolanus' mother is not much different but there is a key aspect of why in the end their situation is unique: Coriolanus loved his mother. He knew that she loved him. And there was in fact an affective bond, so beyond what Coriolanus' mother represents in his life (love, vulnerability) there is a conflict with her person.

Let's look at it from this perspective. Crassus theoretically ensured financial protection and power for Coriolanus. He is not in his life and such aspects are lacking. He clearly misses possessing them because of the difficulties he has faced without them.

The absence of his mother again presents a bigger conflict because Coriolanus had people who cared for him and loved him and yet he resents the lack of his mother. It is not simply missing the aspects of his needs that she would have met if she had lived, it is missing her for who she was.

A loving woman. Who laugh and played with him, who sang him songs. We know almost nothing of what Crassus' personality was from Coriolanus mouth. It is a figure present but totally impersonal from his point of view. Even the few traits he can mention of his father are more accurated to a specific imagen that sometimes not match the imagen of people who actually knew his father have. However, during all TBOSAS there are mentions of who was the mother of Coriolanus. She have glimpses of a personality of her own that Coriolanus could meet by himself.

Something in contrast again because Coriolanus never knew his father, chose make up him. He constructs his idea of Crassus based on his memories, and his own values and ambitions. Almost everything about him comes from the perspective of a model that Coriolanus aspires to be while he briefly knew his mother, resents not having known her longer, and that she has left him alone. Which brings me to the next point of the conflicted relationship with his mother and his mother figures.

Coriolanus never says he hates his mother but recognizes her as weak, fragile and vulnerable. He never disputes this opinion even when others express it, and as we will see throughout the book it is these traits that he despises in other characters or that cause him great conflict. Sejanus is one of these characters but Tigris is another and here comes why neither her grandmother nor she could truly fill the void.

Both grandma'ma and Tigris are fragile beings that from his perspective must be cared for and protected by him. Coriolanus knows that his grandmother was not a woman made to survive the circumstances they live in, she is also old and delusional. She also places pressure and expectation on Coriolanus as the one responsible for saving House Snow. On the other side Tigris has acted more like a mother, taking care of them, that is why he constantly seeks her advice and emotional support however Coriolanus recognizes her vulnerability, and once again categorizes her as a deficient mother figure.

Tigris claimed his protection. Coriolanus is conflicted because, as he despises the traits that he believes murdered his mother, the ones that made her unable to survive the traumatic childbirth, he will speak at times as if his mother had given up and died on purpose. At the same time he refuses this idea and focuses his fury on the faceless rebels who killed his mother, for she surely would never have wanted to leave him alone in this world with no one to love him so much.

His feelings are then reflected in how he interacts with these deficient maternal roles. The grandmother demands Coriolanus to be an adult. Something his mother did not do. Tigris possesses the same flaws as his mother. He cannot rely on her to fulfill the void.

And there is another aspect. Mothers in our society and within Panem respond to impossible ideals about who they should be. Coriolanus idealizes his mother, he places her on an altar so any other maternal figure that cannot exactly meet his needs for love and emotional labor will always be flawed, leading to a constant and impossible search.

Again something that will never happen with his father, as this figure can be flawed, we see this with Coriolanus hearing the most horrible things about Crassus and not blinking at what is wrong with him. Why should he care about someone he never met, someone he can only look up to without worrying most of the time about his emotions because again. The role-models are not human nor is it possible to develop an affectionate bond with them, on the other hand his mother despite being held in an idealized memory that dehumanizes her at the same time is all too human. Because she died, the most human and unbearable act for a mother figure. In a rather horrible way Coriolanus was forced to recognize his mother as fragile and weak, a person of flesh and blood. A person he loved and died in front of his eyes.

Very different from the concept that died with his father beech in the distant D12.

So Coriolanus remains in search of a mother figure, one that he cannot find in his grandmother or cousin, and this is where Saytiria comes in. This is speculative, but I don't think the following statements are unreasonable, so for those who have never read the book, she is a teacher for whom Coriolanus is her aid. Both seem to have a good relationship, enough for Coriolanus to have a certain complicity with her, and in fact he seeks her out unconsciously in moments of stress during the games. A teacher, an older woman whom Coriolanus does not want to disappoint, is a very striking thing to see if we consider that he feels a great void of affection. And in fact it sets a precedent for Gaul but we won't talk about her yet. Before we have to attend to another figure that Coriolanus relates intimately with his mother, and with whom he shows a rather peculiar behavior: Lucy Gray.

We have to recover a point I already mentioned: Coriolanus never says he hates his mother and I don't think he does, however he resents her, since he relates the traits of her personality with weakness, they are negative characteristics to possess, and he thinks this not only for himself, but for the others: Tigris who is sweet and gentle, she invites abuse, Sejanus who is kind and warm is a fool, but if there is someone whom Coriolanus identifies with the traits his mother possessed in a positive way it is Lucy Gray.

That they both sing is the first thing that awakens in Coriolanus this connection. It is not the same lullaby, but Lucy Gray uses the same words that his mother once sang, the same words that made him feel truly loved and from then on a descent begins. Remember that Coriolanus sees his father as an abstract model of the man he should aspire to be? He will constantly try to fulfill this role in relation to others, especially those he identifies as being similar in traits to his mother, Tigris is the one who supports Coryo and his grandmother, and he feels deeply frustate because that should be his job from his point of view. With Sejanus there is a noticeable frustration at the protection that Coriolanus feels he should give him, but Coriolanus does not feel that way about the prospect of caring for, protecting Lucy Gray.

The reason? Because she has been able to reciprocate, and fill the void.

Lucy Gray is the first person similar to Coriolanus' mother that he can fully protect, that he can really help, it is in his hands to take care of her, at first for his own purposes but quickly establishes a bond with her. Their conversations are about topics that Coriolanus doesn't usually talk about with the people around him, topics that make him vulnerable and connect him with Lucy Gray, who he has allowed her to see a side of himself that he tries not to show to anyone. Coriolanus may care for Lucy Gray or at least try his hardest because he feels that in a way Lucy Gray has done the same.

Didn't she hold his hand and give him strength to face the interviews at the zoo? And didn't she save him before from those angry tributes who wanted to hurt him? And it doesn't stop there. Lucy Gray saves him during the bombing in spite of herself, and there is something in the way Lucy Gray is caring for him, showing how much she worry for him, her gestures speak of love.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Coriolanus decides to constantly give her objects that belonged to his mother. They are his most prized possessions, they are reminders that he was once loved, which he gives to his new love to prove the sincerity of his feelings. It is at the same time a way to confirm that Lucy Gray deserves the title that neither his grandmother nor Tigris nor his teacher have been able to receive, she will love him, take care of him and guide him. She will be the mother he has lost, but Lucy Gray fails.

She reveals herself as a lethal version, with traits that are far from his idealized vision of his mother, until the terrible truth is laid bare: Lucy Gray is a victor, she has survived the games, so she is tough enough to survive this world, what Coriolanus deeply wished was his mother, maybe then she would have survived, and he would not be a child impossible to love, a child who was not loved enough by his mother who died and left him alone. It is not rational, it is pure emotion, but Lucy Gray crossing these boundaries is not a problem until she reveals herself as the undesirable woman.

A manipulative, intelligent, sexual creature who cannot be trusted. A lying, snake girl who tries to kill him, and with Lucy Gray's disappearance, Mrs. Snow's memory and her place in Coriolanus' heart are ruined. Forced into the depths of oblivion, of denial, for being his ruin.

Let's recap. Coriolanus has found fault with every mother figure he has encountered. His grandmother cannot be a mother, she demands him to be a man. Tigris cannot be a mother, because Coriolanus should be the one to protect her. Saytiria cannot be a mother, because she is a drunkard, who would not really go beyond her student. And Lucy Gray in the end is a 16 year old teenager, with a difficult life that has made it impossible for her to fit into all these parameters.

She has also had his heart broken and disappeared without answers, similar to how Coriolanus' mother died abruptly, and with no explanation as to why it happened to a very young boy, who years later, is still trying to process and understand why his mother is no longer with him. Coriolanus may be many things, but he is also a very sad boy, and angry at the world, because his mother has left him alone.

Because she died and took his love with her.

And here is where Volumnia Gaul comes to give hope to that boy in the worst way, but that needs its own post, because she is ALL A CASE. Her name alone is crazy, the mother of Shakespeare's Coriolanus is Volumnia, so I think Suzanne Collins was pretty clear about what was going on between the two.

You know I've seen some posts saying that maybe Casca could have been a positive influence if he hadn't been a jerk to Coriolanus, and yes it's a possibility, but I also don't know how much of a chance he had of being listened for a child who wanted a mother and thought he didn't need a father. In fact he was convinced he didn't need one, which is why Strabo Plinth leaves him indifferent when he almost adopts him, but Gaul is a woman.

A mentor who believe in him.

Next post: Volumnia Gaul's monstrous motherhood

Tag list: @julietasgf @binarisunset @maidstew

[halosdiary]

medusa, medusa | gorgon!gojo x blind!reader | 呪術廻戦

a/n: honestly, this one feels like a greek tragedy, and I'm more than happy to post this.

wc: 4.6k

synopsis: It's one of those cute, yet sad tropes of a cursed!person x blind reader.

"Snow white hair, beautiful ocean blue eyes. He was the center of everything loved by all, but unfortunately could not love back."

Satoru Gojo had always been a marvel of nature. Born with a beauty that seemed sculpted by the gods, he was admired wherever he went. His hair, pale as moonlight, shimmered in the daylight, and his cerulean eyes held an enigmatic glow that captivated anyone who met his gaze. His flawless smile drew in followers, friends, and admirers alike, all of whom basked in the light of his charm and kindness.

By day, Gojo was more than just a beautiful face. He had an easygoing, playful nature that set him apart. Children loved him, adults respected him, and those closest to him saw the flickers of childish mischief hidden behind his kindness. He never seemed to take life too seriously, laughing away the problems of the world, as though the weight of it could never truly rest upon his shoulders.

But Satoru Gojo harbored a secret. One that was more terrifying than anyone could imagine. For as blessed as he was by the sun, he was equally cursed by the night.

As dusk settled, and the warmth of the day gave way to shadows, his beauty began to fade. Slowly, like the setting sun, his skin began to twist, his once-angelic face contorting into something grotesque. His smooth skin cracked and hardened into scales, and his eyes lost their luster, becoming dark, sunken pits. His body, graceful in daylight, became hulking and monstrous, something out of a nightmare. The same people who adored him during the day would scream and flee if they saw what he became under the cover of darkness.

This curse was no accident—it was placed upon him at birth, by forces older than time. It wasn’t just his appearance that changed at night, but something deeper. The curse had stolen his ability to feel love. Though he was surrounded by admirers, though people loved and cherished him, he could never return those feelings. No matter how kind he was, no matter how many friends he made, there was an empty void in his heart. His beauty was admired, his company sought after, but all of it felt hollow.

In the daylight, his smile could fool the world, but Gojo knew what lay beneath. He could charm and entertain, but when the night came, he was alone—forced to lock himself away from the world, unseen and unloved, his monstrous form a reflection of the void within him.

Despite this curse, Gojo never let it break his spirit. He laughed and smiled during the day, played the part of the charming hero. But every sunset reminded him that his beauty, his popularity, and his kindness were fleeting illusions, just as temporary as the daylight. No one would ever truly love him. And perhaps, he thought, that was the cruelest part of the curse.

For though the world saw him as a being of light, Gojo lived in the shadows, unable to ever feel the warmth of love.

Gojo stood there, your words echoing in his mind, each one settling deeper into him than he had anticipated. He had spent his entire life believing that no one could ever truly love him—not the real him, not the cursed monster he became at night. But here you were, standing in front of him, offering something he had never thought possible: acceptance.

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to relax in someone’s presence, especially during the night when he was at his most vulnerable. The snakes in his hair hissed softly, but he no longer felt the need to conceal them. The weight of his secret had been lifted, and for once, he didn’t feel like he had to hide who he was.

You, on the other hand, could feel the shift in him. Though you couldn’t see, you had always been able to sense people’s energy. With Gojo, it had always felt like a bright light during the day, a presence so intense that it was almost overwhelming. But at night, when he tried to disappear from the world, his energy became like a coiled spring, tense and guarded. That night, however, his presence was calm, softer somehow, as if he were finally letting his guard down.

“I’ve always been surrounded by people,” Gojo said after a long silence, his voice distant, like he was recalling painful memories. “They admired me, followed me, even worshiped me sometimes. But none of it ever felt real. It was like they were in love with the idea of me—the beautiful, perfect Gojo. Not the one who’s cursed. Not the one who turns into a monster every night.”

You listened quietly, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. You had always known there was more to Gojo than what he showed the world. His laughter and playfulness were genuine, but there was something lonely about him, something he kept buried under the surface.

“I think I started believing it,” Gojo continued. “That no one could ever love the real me. I told myself it didn’t matter—that as long as I could make people happy during the day, that was enough. But… it wasn’t. I felt empty, no matter how many people surrounded me.”

You reached out, gently taking his hand. His skin felt different at night, rougher, more like the stone he feared turning others into. But to you, it didn’t matter. You squeezed his hand, grounding him in the moment.

“I don’t need to see what you look like, Gojo,” you said softly, your voice filled with a quiet strength. “I’ve never cared about that. All I know is that you’ve been kind to me. You’ve been playful, silly, and sometimes a little too full of yourself,” you added with a teasing smile. “But you’ve also been a friend. You’ve made me laugh, made me feel welcome. And that’s enough for me.”

Gojo stared at you, his serpentine hair shifting slightly, as if unsure how to react to your words. For so long, he had believed that his curse would prevent him from ever finding real companionship, let alone love. But here you were, not afraid, not running, just… there. Present.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Because I know you,” you replied without hesitation. “Not the image everyone else sees. Not the perfect, untouchable Gojo. I know the person who spends his days making ridiculous jokes and trying to cheer people up. The person who cares, even though he pretends not to. And I know the person who’s scared of being alone at night. I know you, Gojo. And I’m not going anywhere.”

A silence fell between you two, but it was comfortable, peaceful. Gojo felt something he hadn’t felt in years—a sense of calm, of belonging. He had spent so long running from his curse, believing it made him unworthy of real connection. But here, with you, it didn’t feel like a curse anymore.

It wasn’t some grand romantic moment, nor was it a sudden, overwhelming feeling of love. It was quieter, more subtle, but no less powerful. For the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo felt like he didn’t have to be anything other than who he truly was. There was no need to hide his monstrous form, no need to fear rejection. You couldn’t see the snakes in his hair or the cursed gaze of his eyes. But more importantly, you saw him, beyond the curse, beyond the beauty and the horror.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Gojo squeezed your hand in return, his smile soft and genuine in a way that was rare for him. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but you heard it clearly. In those two simple words, there was a lifetime of gratitude, relief, and something that felt almost like hope.

The night passed quietly, the two of you sitting together under the stars, the world around you peaceful and still. For Gojo, it was the first night in a long time where he didn’t feel alone, didn’t feel like a monster. And for you, it was a night where you got to truly know someone who had always seemed so untouchable.

Neither of you spoke much after that. There wasn’t a need for words. You had said everything that needed to be said. And as the night turned into dawn, and the first light of morning began to break across the horizon, Gojo felt something new bloom in his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, the curse wasn’t as unbreakable as he had once thought.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, Gojo felt the familiar sensation of change wash over him. The serpents that had wriggled restlessly throughout the night began to calm and retreat, dissolving into his silky hair. His rough, scaly skin smoothed, becoming soft and radiant once more, as the night’s curse gave way to the day’s blessing. By the time the sun had fully risen, he was once again the Satoru Gojo everyone knew—beautiful, flawless, and untouchable.

Except this time, something was different.

He glanced over at you. You were still there, sitting beside him, your hand still in his, completely unaffected by the transformation. You had stayed through the night, unflinching in the face of what he had become. He couldn’t explain the warmth spreading through his chest, a feeling he had spent his whole life believing he would never know. The curse had told him he could never be loved—that he could only be admired from a distance during the day and feared at night. But with you, something had shifted.

He stood, helping you up as well. "The sun’s up," he said lightly, his tone trying to mask the flood of emotions that threatened to surface. He flashed his usual playful grin, the one that charmed everyone around him. But this time, it wasn’t a mask—it was real. He felt lighter, freer, in a way that he hadn’t in years.

You tilted your head in his direction, sensing the change in his demeanor. "Back to being the beautiful Satoru Gojo everyone loves, huh?" you teased, your voice playful but affectionate.

He chuckled. "I mean, I can’t help it," he said with mock arrogance, but his hand lingered on yours a moment longer before letting go. "But I’m still me, you know. Even when the sun goes down."

You nodded. "I know."

The morning passed in comfortable silence as you walked together, the world slowly waking up around you. Gojo found himself stealing glances at you, not out of curiosity but out of a deep, unfamiliar feeling he was still trying to comprehend. It wasn’t the way others looked at him—hungry for his beauty or enchanted by his charm. It was something far more profound, something that made him want to hold on to this moment forever.

For the next few days, things fell into a new rhythm between you two. Gojo no longer disappeared at dusk. Instead, he stayed with you, his transformation unfolding in your presence without fear or hesitation. The first few nights were hard. He still struggled with the fear that somehow, even though you couldn’t see him, his curse would hurt you. But with each passing night, your unwavering acceptance eased that fear. You didn’t flinch when you heard the hisses of the snakes in his hair, didn’t tense up when you felt the roughness of his skin. You just stayed, calmly and patiently, as though nothing had changed.

It wasn’t long before others noticed the difference in Gojo, too. During the day, he seemed lighter, more genuine. His playful arrogance was still there, of course, but there was a softness to him now, a warmth that hadn’t been there before. His friends commented on it, but he always brushed it off with a joke or a grin. No one knew the truth—no one knew that for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo wasn’t afraid of the night.

But then came the day he had been dreading.

It was late afternoon, the sky already streaked with shades of orange and pink, signaling the coming sunset. You were both sitting on the edge of a grassy hill, the wind soft and cool against your skin. The day had been perfect—quiet, peaceful, filled with the kind of unspoken understanding that had become common between you and Gojo.

But as the sun began to dip lower, a knot of unease formed in his stomach. This time, it wasn’t fear of his transformation. It was something deeper, something he had been avoiding for weeks.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice unusually serious. He turned toward you, his expression more vulnerable than you had ever seen it. "There’s something I need to ask you."

You shifted slightly, sensing the tension in his voice. "What is it?"

Gojo took a deep breath, his hands fidgeting slightly. He had faced curses, monsters, and all manner of danger in his life, but nothing had ever scared him quite like this. "Why are you still here?"

The question hung in the air between you. It wasn’t accusatory, but there was a deep uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, I know I’m not easy to be around. And you… you know what I am. What I turn into every night. So why are you still here, sticking with me through all of this?"

You smiled softly, as though the answer were the simplest thing in the world. "Because I want to be here, Gojo. You’re not just your curse. You’re kind, you’re fun, and I like being around you. The curse doesn’t change that."

He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "But it’s more than that. I—" He stopped, struggling to find the right words. "I’ve never been able to love. I thought tAs the last light of the sun disappeared, the world around you both settled into quiet darkness. The night had always been the time Gojo feared most, a time where he would become something no one could love, something people should be afraid of. But now, as the familiar transformation took place, he felt different.

The serpents in his hair, which had once felt like a burden, a symbol of his monstrous nature, now seemed calmer. They didn’t thrash about as wildly. Their hisses were softer, more like whispers in the night air. Gojo could feel the roughness of his skin returning, but he didn’t shrink away or try to hide it. For the first time, he didn’t feel the need to conceal what he had become.

You sat beside him, unmoving, your hand still resting in his. You had felt the change, the way his skin became rough and cold, the way the serpents moved through his hair. But none of it mattered to you. To you, Gojo was still Gojo—the same playful, kind-hearted soul who had let you into his life, despite his fears. You couldn’t see the physical transformation, but you knew it was happening, and yet, you remained as steady as ever.

Gojo’s chest tightened with emotion. He had spent so long believing no one could accept him, that his curse would forever keep him distant from real connection. And yet, here you were, sitting beside him through the night, just as you did during the day. The idea that someone could love him despite the curse felt like a foreign concept, but he was starting to believe it was possible.

“I don’t understand how you do it,” Gojo whispered, breaking the silence. His voice was thick with emotion, the vulnerability he usually kept hidden spilling out in the darkness. “How you can sit here with me, knowing what I am.”

You smiled softly, turning your face in his direction. “Because I know who you are, Gojo. You’re not just your curse. You’re someone who makes me laugh, who cares about others, even when you don’t want to admit it. And you’ve been there for me in ways no one else has.”

Gojo’s serpents hissed softly, their movements slow and lazy, almost as if they, too, were listening to your words. He felt his heart clench at your response, the weight of years of isolation and loneliness pressing down on him. How had he gone so long believing that he could never be loved? How had he convinced himself that the curse defined him when you, someone who couldn’t even see his physical form, understood him better than anyone ever had?

“You don’t realize how much this means to me,” Gojo said quietly, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “I’ve spent so long hiding this part of myself from everyone. I thought no one would ever accept me for what I am, for who I am.”

You squeezed his hand gently, grounding him in the moment. “I do,” you replied simply. “And you’re not alone anymore, Gojo. Not as long as I’m here.”

The simplicity of your words hit Gojo harder than anything else. It wasn’t a grand declaration, but it didn’t need to be. The quiet confidence in your voice, the way you said it without hesitation—it was enough to make Gojo believe, truly believe, that he wasn’t doomed to a life of isolation.

Without thinking, he pulled you into a gentle embrace. His arms wrapped around you carefully, his touch light, as if afraid that you might shatter if he held on too tightly. The serpents in his hair brushed against you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, letting him hold you in the soft darkness of the night.

Gojo closed his eyes, savoring the moment, the warmth of your presence, the steady beat of your heart against his. For so long, he had feared touch, had feared what might happen if anyone got too close. But with you, everything was different. You weren’t afraid of him, not of the monster he became at night or the beauty that captivated everyone during the day. You had seen past all of it, and what remained was something real.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” Gojo murmured into your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with emotion. “But I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your head up toward him, your hands still resting on his arms. “You won’t lose me, Gojo,” you said softly, your voice full of quiet assurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Gojo’s heart swelled with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t just relief or gratitude. It was something deeper, something he had never allowed himself to feel before. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was the beginning of it—he wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, it made him feel like, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t defined by the curse.

The night stretched on, and neither of you spoke for a while. You simply sat together in the silence, the world around you peaceful and still. Gojo’s serpents eventually quieted, their hissing fading into the night as they, too, seemed to relax in your presence. His rough skin no longer felt like a prison, but just another part of him—one that you had accepted without question.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to love.”

You smiled, your hand reaching up to gently brush against his arm. “That’s okay,” you replied softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Gojo felt something inside him shift, a wall that had been there for years slowly crumbling away. The curse had told him that love was impossible, that he was destined to live a life of isolation, but here, with you, he realized how wrong that had been.

And maybe, just maybe, he could finally let himself believe that love was something he deserved. Something that could be real, even for someone like him.

As the night wore on, Gojo held you close, the weight of his curse finally feeling lighter than it ever had before.

he curse made it impossible for me to feel that way. But now, with you…"

You remained quiet, letting him process his thoughts, your hand resting gently on his arm in reassurance.

"I don’t know what this feeling is," Gojo continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think it’s what people mean when they talk about love. And it scares me because I’ve never been allowed to feel it. I’ve been alone for so long, and now… I don’t want to lose you."

His confession hung in the air, raw and real, stripped of his usual bravado. He wasn’t the untouchable Gojo anymore—he was vulnerable, a man who had spent his life behind a wall that you had somehow managed to break down.

You reached out, finding his hand once again, your touch steady and warm. "Gojo," you said softly, "you’re not going to lose me. I’m here because I want to be. And if this is love, then I’m okay with that. I care about you, curse or not."

His breath hitched slightly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation, any hint of doubt. But all he found was your steady presence, your unwavering belief in him. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, and for the first time, Gojo allowed himself to fully believe in the possibility of love.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight. The familiar transformation began, but this time, Gojo didn’t shy away from it. He stayed right there with you, feeling the hissing serpents in his hair and the roughness of his skin. But none of it mattered—not when you were still there, holding his hand, unafraid.

And for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo realized that love was possible. That maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t cursed after all.

The night had stretched on, far longer than either of you had realized. The moon was high in the sky, casting its cold, silvery light over the two of you. Gojo’s arms still held you close, his heart beating softly against your chest, a steady rhythm that seemed to calm the serpents that moved through his hair. For a brief, fleeting moment, everything felt perfect. But that moment was fragile, delicate—like a thin sheet of ice that could crack under the slightest pressure.

Gojo’s mind drifted, lulled by your presence, but at the back of his thoughts, something darker stirred. It had been too easy. He had spent his entire life living under the weight of his curse, believing that love was an impossibility, that he could never truly be close to anyone. And now, with you, it all seemed too good to be true. He had finally let his guard down, allowed himself to hope. But deep inside, the fear remained, gnawing at him, whispering that this happiness couldn’t last.

“I don’t want this to end,” Gojo whispered, his voice trembling slightly, betraying the fear he had been holding back.

You looked up at him, your head resting against his chest. “It doesn’t have to,” you replied softly. “We’re here, Gojo. Together. That’s what matters.”

But Gojo’s hands tightened around you, his body tense. “What if I hurt you?” he asked, his voice strained. “What if one night, I lose control? What if the curse takes over completely?”

You shook your head, trying to reassure him, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. He had always feared this, hadn’t he? The curse wasn’t just about the transformation. It was about the danger that came with it—the unpredictable, wild force that lived inside him, waiting to strike. He had managed to keep it at bay for so long, but how much longer could he fight it?

“I trust you,” you said softly. “You’re stronger than the curse, Gojo.”

But even as you said the words, Gojo’s heart clenched with doubt. He wasn’t sure if he believed them anymore. He wasn’t sure if he could keep control—especially not now, when his emotions were raw, exposed in a way they had never been before. The more he cared for you, the more he feared what could happen if he let his guard down entirely.

And then, without warning, it happened.

One of the serpents in his hair lashed out, faster than either of you could react. Its venomous fangs sunk deep into your arm, the bite almost imperceptible at first—a quick, sharp pain, barely noticeable. But then it spread, like ice crawling through your veins, freezing everything in its path. Your breath hitched, and your body stiffened, your hand falling limply from Gojo’s arm.

“No,” Gojo gasped, his voice breaking as he pulled back, horror spreading across his face. “No, no, no…”

He reached for you, trying to stop what had already begun, but it was too late. The curse had taken hold. Your body was growing cold, your skin turning pale and rigid as the venom worked its way through you. Stone. You were turning to stone.

“I—I didn’t mean to—” Gojo’s voice was frantic, his hands shaking as he tried to cradle your stiffening form. He could feel the life draining from you, could feel the warmth of your presence slipping away, replaced by the cold, unyielding weight of the curse.

Your eyes met his, wide with shock and fear, but there was no anger in them—only sadness, a deep, aching sadness that mirrored Gojo’s own. You tried to speak, but your lips wouldn’t move, your voice trapped in your throat. All you could do was look at him, helpless, as your body slowly became a lifeless statue.

Gojo’s heart shattered. He had finally let himself believe in the possibility of love, and in a cruel twist of fate, the curse had taken it from him. His worst fear had come true—he had hurt the one person who had accepted him, who had loved him despite everything. And now, you were gone.

“I’m sorry,” Gojo whispered, tears streaming down his face as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they brushed against the cold, stone surface of your skin. “I’m so sorry…”

The night felt unbearably silent, the world around him fading into the background as he clung to the last remnants of what had once been you. The serpents in his hair were restless, hissing in agitation, but Gojo barely noticed. All he could think about was the weight of your lifeless form in his arms, the hollow ache in his chest where hope had once bloomed.

For a long time, he just sat there, staring at you—at the beautiful, tragic statue that you had become. His mind raced with guilt, with sorrow, with the overwhelming realization that he was truly, utterly alone now. The curse had taken everything from him.

And as the dawn finally broke over the horizon, casting its golden light over the world, Gojo felt no warmth, no relief. The curse that had once only taken hold of him at night now felt like it had taken hold of his heart, his soul. There was no escape from it now.

He stood slowly, his movements mechanical, his gaze fixed on your frozen form. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t bear to look at what he had done. And so, with a heart heavy with grief, Satoru Gojo turned and walked away, leaving the statue behind—forever a reminder of the love he had lost, and the curse that had doomed him to a life of eternal loneliness.

There was no breaking the curse. There was no happy ending.

Only the cold, unrelenting truth that some things were never meant to be.

TAGLIST: @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @buttercupblu143 @lowkeyremi @yung-notorious @arlerts-angel @honeeslust @nkogneatho @hoshigray

[izzysillyhandsy]

Ed-and-Izzy-related stuff that stood out for me in episodes 6 and 7:

Their quiet familiarity and mutual fondness

The main thing I wanted from S2 regarding Ed and Izzy was at least a hint of a mutual, loving relationship between the two of them in the past. The way Izzy acted around Ed in S1 made no sense to me if there wasn't a strong, very old, tried and tested bond there. Equally, Ed's behaviour around Izzy, the familiar way he called him Iz, the exasperated way he reacted to Izzy's izzyness, showed (for me) a closeness of decades living together.

Izzy's "You know me better than anyone has ever known me, and I daresay the same is true for me about you" is the truth, in my opinion. It's about the little things, all the experiences they've had together, sharing a space, food, drink (how natural did it feel when Ed took Izzy's bottle?). Everyone who's had a close friend for decades knows how that feels.

Yes, there are aspects of Ed that Stede gets and Izzy doesn't. But I always had the feeling that Ed feels like home for Izzy and vice versa. This feeling was just very well hidden in S1 because of Izzy's confusion, jealousy and resentment.

(Of course, Izzy is also in love with Ed and Ed, as of S1, isn't. But the (platonic) love, friendship and fondness underlying everything is tangible.)

2. Together, they've got this "us against the world" vibe

One of my favourite headcanons is young Ed and Iz mutinying together, or deciding to kill someone who made their lives hell (with Iz doing the actual killing, obviously). Both learning to fight and to survive in a cruel world together.

I'm not saying this was in any way confirmed or anything (flashback scene, I'm still waiting), but the scene above with Ed looking out at the sea, Izzy who can't take his eyes off him... they seem so attuned to each other. "Where you go, I'll follow."

I know this isn't the most coherent analysis, I'm struggling to describe the feeling I got when watching this scene.

It was like yes, they've fought their way up together. Even after everything that happened, put them next to each other on a ship and they just fit. If they wanted to, they could do anything.

(In a way, it's such a pity Ed doesn't want to be a pirate anymore, at least not a scary Blackbeardy one. Those two have a look going.)

3. Izzy and Ed both connect Izzy's love declaration to Ed shooting him

"You know what he did when I told him I loved him?" "He shot me." "He shot you, yeah." "I know."

This is not 100% clear cut, but to me Izzy's delivery very strongly infers that Izzy didn't know Stede knew (and didn't tell him).

Which means that ED TOLD STEDE.

If that's the case, then

Izzy, at some point, realized that Ed shooting him wasn't (all) about him reminding Ed of Stede

Izzy has a better grasp on Ed's inner struggles than previously assumed

Izzy and Ed both see this declaration as important enough that Ed would permanently injure and eventually kill Izzy for it and Izzy and Stede are both like "yeah, figures"

Ed himself knows and admits that him shooting Izzy was about Izzy (still) loving him in that moment

I mean, I'm still shocked about that.

There were a lot of great metas about Ed's motivations after Ep2 came out, and some of them suggested exactly this: that Ed wanted to be an unloveable monster, that this was the only way he could deal with what he'd done, and Izzy's love was standing in the way of his grand self-destruction.

I wasn't prepared for Izzy, Stede and probably Ed being concious of that and kinda offhandedly acknowledging it in the show?

And even if it wasn't Ed but Izzy who told Stede (which I don't believe, but it's possible) - it's still crazy.

Izzy matter-of-factly telling Stede "Yeah, Ed shot me because I told him I loved him" and Stede being like "Yeah, of course, that's our Ed <3" is mind-blowing to me.

4. Izzy's love song

The lyrics at this exact moment:

Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie. - He told me, he swore to me, for life.

He really means it. They're married. I rest my case.

5. The first kill's always a mindfuck

So, I have this persistent obsession about Izzy being Ed's personal henchman, and Ed "outsourcing the big job" Teach resenting him for it.

In that respect, Ed's reaction to Stede's first kill was very interesting.

It probably wasn't like that in the beginning, but Ed seems to be a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to violence. Izzy is irrevocably tainted, but I think he wants to keep Stede "pure" (he didn't mind when Stede torched the ship, but that's the hypocrisy in action).

This is of course totally my headcanon, but I think Izzy's first kill was significant. I think Iz did it for Ed. And I think it was very difficult for him (either because Izzy-the-artsy-outsider was actually quite sensitive and nowhere near a bloodthirsty killer and/or because he cared about the person he killed). But Ed was so impressed, and so thankful, so he just carried on doing Ed's dirty work and it changed him forever :(

6. Ed's apology

This whole scene.

Scowly face. Mopey twat. Oh, look, you're talking to me again.

The way they're saying it, Izzy's expressions, their body language - it feels so incredibly intimate. From this exchange alone I would bet they were lovers at some point.

Iz bringing the bottle as a cover and excuse and Ed understanding and playing along.

Ed's "Sorryboutyourleg" being the exact opposite of his public "apology".

I almost cried (like Iz) 😢

CONCLUSION: Why is there only one episode left I need more of this!!!

Also: IZZY LIVES <3

[celestialtarot11]

could you talk about gemini venus in the 12th?

gem venus always gets a bad rep & i am someone who is devoted in love 😅

Gemini venus 12h—

—May have questioned whether relationships were for them. They felt excluded, unloved, unseen, and silenced. They also felt their love life could have been nonexistent, or rather filled with non committed relationships.

—They approach relationships with a sense of curiosity and interest. They are open minded individuals, who understand the gravity of a long term relationship.

—Rather be alone than to feel lonely in relationships. As these natives embrace solitude and peace, they realize the stress of crash and burn relationships aren’t their friend. They are not necessarily closed off, but they won’t compromise themselves to stay in unhealthy relationships.

—Needs an open, communicative partner to talk to. They love openly and deeply, and their words have the ability to penetrate deep into peoples subconscious. I believe some people become afraid of what power this native holds—it’s as if their words strike deeply. Even if it isn’t harsh, rude, or abrupt. There cadence carries so far.

—People may run from this native because this native can see deeply. And they can analyze themselves and others to a point of stripping them bare psychologically. It isn’t a horrible thing, they’ve had to do this to understand themselves. They’ve had to see themselves psychologically bare firsthand.

—Therefore they need a partner who will embrace these deep conversations, moments and experiences. Someone who will open up, and not shut down.

—Spirituality follows their relationships somehow. They may find themselves synchronizing with others, receiving dreams and messages. Their intuition is strong when acknowledged, but if they ignore it, it becomes dampened. Their intuition is their saving grace in relationships.

—Their intuition is their compass. It will tell them who they can settle with and who they can’t. They may have had moments where they doubted their intuition severely and now they embrace it. They will never forget the mistake of doubting themselves.

—If well aspected the native can experience “get out of jail free” moment. Venus does well usually in the 12h, but if negatively aspected it can cause issues regarding mental health, hospitalization, and issues with prison life.

—High sexual energy. Not in the way you think, more so these natives carry a healing energy sexually. An energy of liberation and intrigue, it helps create a safe place of comfort. It induces a playful energy, and it feels receptive. It’s subtle, yet travels powerfully and deep. It permeates through barriers. Comes off as subtle charm, wit, humor.

—May prefer dates in a dimly lit place, where it’s soothing. Nature where its open and quiet, so they can ground themselves. These natives need calm. Their mind may work fast and hard, so they need environments conducive to bringing in calm.

—Dreamers. They love to dream and concoct scenarios where they feel loved. They want to experience a beautiful connection as what they see. Amazing at manifesting in general due to their attractive, receptive energy.

—Can be tempted into staying in unhealthy relationships. Self sabotage repeatedly comes up, and partners who enable this behavior can hurt the native more. The native can do well with self analyzation and detaching themselves from further harm.

—They have a young, youthful vibe to them in relationships. They love a good banter, playful jokes, and thrive on communication.

—A lovely inner child, vibrant and curious. Adventurous. It helps others feel naturally at ease.

—Might enjoy writing song lyrics, poetry, or writing in general. It’s a way in which they express themselves, finding ordinary conversation to sometimes lack.

—Spends a lot of time alone. They protect their peace, energy. They may have protected their peace a little too hard and have no hot people lined up in their roster (jk love yall)