#the pain of ignorance is dangerous. which is why communication is important

[merrysithmas]

Charles' line "There's so much more to you than you know" has always struck me because it's SO easy for Charles to come off unlikeable-

"There's so much more to you than you know" (But I do)

"What do you know about me? - Everything." (Whether you like it or not)

"I know what this means to you but you have to let go!" (Stop this nonsense)

"There's a mutant here already! [Exposing Hank]"

"I don't want your pain. They sent back the wrong man [To Logan]"

"I've seen what Shaw did to you"

"I feel your agony [After Nina died]"

"[Jean expresses no one knows how it feels to be tormented telepathically] Oh but I do."

Like on a base level what he communicates is such an invasion of privacy and instantly gets the hackles up because it's not natural. He can sound, at first glance, self-important and even dismissive (Erik at one point calls him 'arrogant'). Charles' telepathy gift is so alienating. He knows people's most personal thoughts, feelings, dreams, and nightmares. Seeing into someone's soul is as simple as breathing and second nature to him -- and he knows how repulsive this must be (see: how profusely he apologized for outting Hank. This speaks to a past/youth where he clearly unintentionally shared the secrets of others or caused trouble with his abilities and disturbed the people around him or endangered himself/others).

But Charles can't help his powers in the same way that Rogue can't - actually, Charles' abilities could easily been seen in some regards as the psychic equivalent to Rogue's physical gift. She can't touch ANYONE without hurting them in some manner, she is dangerous in some regard. And it's the same thing with Charles -- wherever his mind goes he exposes and hurts people. It's a side effect of his powers.

But unlike Rogue, Charles can't wear gloves. He can try to keep up psychic shields (which hurt HIM), or he can promise Raven he'll never read her mind, but he can't ever lessen his gift. He can't be perfect but he has to try. He can't or he'll be hated, despised, and feared. Rogue and he share a similar distress. Rogue suffers from touch-starvation but has to deal or she'll be seen as a monster. Charles suffers from the same kind of thing is a psychic way - he has to block his abilities or be seen as arrogant, invasive, and holier-than-thou. He has to starve his mind and powers.

So that's why it's sooooo touching that he tries SO hard to do good with it despite all that. Especially as he grows as a person and sees how powerful he can be with appendages like Cerebro. He ALWAYS makes an effort to clarify his knowledge of someone's mind with encouragement, love, understanding, and hope.

He can't help reading someone's mind but he CAN help how they react to it or how they feel about what's been exposed and the constant effort he exerts to express empathy, kindness, and aid is a testament to how hard he works to do good with his mutation. He frankly just doesn't have to do that. He could be like Emma Frost or Jean Grey or Psylocke. They know your thoughts, they use telepathy, and it's as simple as that.

Charles feels people's pain so ardently, sees their struggles so clearly, that it literally torments him not to help. How can he see that and just walk away? Innermost pain and secrets are revealed to him by nature -- he could ignore it, exploit it, or use it maliciously. Instead he takes the information and tries to help (surely in part to make up for how sensitive the invasion is).

"There's so much more to you than you know" (But one day you'll be more powerful than me. Don't get lost, keep going, you have so much more to remember and you aren't just made up of this pain that is so so heavy for you. This is not all that you are, I've seen what you forgot, I promise it's still there. You're still a person. Hold on).

"What do you know about me? - Everything" (I have seen your whole mind - the good and the bad - and still I came out here to ask you to stay. Because nothing in there scares me and in fact it gives me hope. I need you. We could do something great together.)

"I know what this means to you but you have to let go!" (They'll succeed in killing you if you let them. You deserve better)

"There's a mutant already here!" (Thank god! And you're incredible!)

"I don't want your pain. They sent back the wrong man." (Proceeds to cry at Logan's life and is amazed at his strength, you poor poor man. Is inspired to keep going from Logan's strength).

"I've seen what Shaw did to you." (Shaw did it to you. It's not a shameful secret and you aren't Frankenstein's Monster. It won't stop me from seeing who you really are. You're free).

"I feel your agony." (Come back to us. I can help you. You're not alone. You never had to leave. You still have a family. Grieve with us.)

"Oh but I do" (I survived. So will you. I didn't have help and I also had parents who didn't love me. I won't let that happen to you or leave you alone. I promise. You can sleep. You're safe. I'll protect you.)

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ One-Sided Love: In Which, you realize Jinwoo was always for Hae-In ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 016 ✦ ┆・

‼️[tw: self-deprecation, depression, hanahaki disease, hurt, no-comfort, pure angst, death]‼️

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part Two ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ That boy was your star; but she was his sun] ¡! ❞

You stood there motionless as your eyes watched Jinwoo embrace lips that weren't yours. He was kissing Hae-in with such love. You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't shed a tear nor could you say anything. You just stood there with an empty expression.

Of course he chose her, she was always in his mind, in his heart, beyond heavens and beyond the clouds. It was her.

You were only his friend, a temporary entertainment. A tool to kill time. Your laughs and smiles, as genuine as they were Jinwoo didn't care. He just listened to you because he never had the energy to push you away, so he let you be.

My god, he should've pushed you away. He should've ignored your existence. If he did, you wouldn't have given hope. You wouldn't have clung onto a sliver of faith that he might choose you. It would've been mercy if he had just pushed you away,... But he didn't.

Now here you are, dumbfoundedly glancing over the blossoming of pure love. He was smiling at her.

"Ah....He's Beautiful..." You thought to yourself as you watched those loving grey eyes that looked at her with such endearment, with such passion, with such love that you hoped would be towards you. But no, it wasn't.

Could you blame Jinwoo? No. No you couldn't. She was so vibrant after all, a blinding sunshine that anyone would've loved.

Unlike you, you who is useless. The gloomy, the stupid one, the delusional idiot who thought you could've had a chance.

You weren't even the unfortunate second lead. No, no, no. You are too arrogant to think so. You were never a choice to begin with.

So you turned on your heel and walked away. Did you cry behind closed doors? Did you scream your heart out that night? Did you scratch your skin? Did you bite your lip until it bled? Did you cry and cry until your eyes couldn't shed tears? Who cares.

Not Jinwoo, obviously. He has his Hae-in. Why would he care about your measly existence? The boy didn't even notice when you suddenly distanced yourself, when you suddenly cut off communication, when you stopped sharing your snacks with him, when you stopped greeting him good morning, when you suddenly go home without telling him goodbye. You just withdrew yourself, and he never batted an eye. He was too busy. You're not that important, you prick.

Petals would suddenly come out of your mouth, such pretty flowers stained with your disgusting blood. The crimson red liquid shines against such vibrant petals. You truly didn't deserve such kindness to be able to cough out such beautifully-miserable things.

Your heart would bleed everyday, it was so heavy and painful and it only fuels whenever you see Jinwoo with Hae-in. God did it hurt. But damnit was he so beautiful whenever he smiles so radiantly. The smile that you could never bring out of him, the twinkle in his eyes that never belonged to you. He was just so radiant, he was your star. You loved him like the ocean.

So with a blank smile, you truly embraced your existence as a ghost until you had separated for college. But despite that, your longing continues to sprout uncontrollably and soon enough you would be puking petals left and right. You tried to forget but really, you love him more than life itself.

You could have the petals removed, but in exchange you would lose your memories of him. You didn't want that. Every pretty smile of his, every chuckle he gave, every second you spent with him— You loved every single one of it. So you chose the hard path, you chose to endure.

Like the masochistic fool you were

You loved him so dangerously that you are blindingly throwing your life away. Humans were fools to begin with anyway. Justifying everything for the sake of so-called "Love" just for the hell of it.

And at the ripe age of 19, you died in your deathbed foolishly thinking 'It's all in the name of Love.' But at what cost?

At what cost did you sacrifice your life for a man who forgot about your existence the second you pulled away?

At what cost did you sacrifice your life for someone who never cared to begin with? Jinwoo didn't even remember your existence until Beru asked about you out of a whim.

Jinwoo did try contacting your number but to no avail, so to do it in an easy way. He used his powers that came with being a monarch. The darkness engulfed his body and transported to where you were.

Your Grave.

He stared blankly at your tombstone. Emotions he didn't know would spring up suddenly washed over him and all he could feel was despair as he thought about how you looked at your final days. Did anyone see you in your final moments? What were your last words? He could never know.

Jinwoo felt guilty. Guilty at how he just ignored you. But what would his guilt do? What would his pathetic apologies do?

So with a heavy heart, he disappeared again, and returned with a bouquet of flowers. The flowers you always talked about. The flowers that made you smile so radiantly.

It is his first, and his final gift to you.

The you who is no longer by his side. He bids you a farewell, a farewell he never thought he would do. For a friend.

"Goodbye, may your dreams be pleasant as you drift in purgatory. May your soul rest. I'm sorry."

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[lotus02lavish]

some angst of breakup Headcanons with SWK, MK and Mayor from LMK? GN Reader btw. i just need some angst.

[Pain shall be fed into the beating heart] 💥

【If we ever broke up, I'd be sad. 💔】

{Sun Wukong, Mk, and Mayor breakup with GN! Reader}

➳ Lego Monkie kid (LMK) // Headcanons // Seperated // Angst! ✍🏻

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"You can love them, forgive them, want good things for them ... but still move on without them." - Mandy Hale.

Sun Wukong

The realization about a mortal human being and the immortal monkey king put into a loving relationship would not work.

Sun Wukong could give you his peaches of immortality to accompany him until the end of time. Except the horror that if you live forever, everyone and everything around you will move on. Somethings will die and forgotten without you. No peaches for you, hun.

Sun Wukong does not allowed to let anyone notice you as his lover, he just want to protect you from anyone that cause harm. Which makes you believe he is embarrassed to have you.

Sun Wukong is lacking the ability to explain of how he truly feeling towards you. From time to time again to have communication problems and abuse that cannot be solved.

In Sun Wukong's opinion, love is just another useless emotion to express that lead to heartbreak and disappointment. He is not ready to handle any of those qualities.

In conclusion, Sun Wukong is unexpectedly certain to break up with you, just to save you from himself. He is arrogant and a trickster is known to everyone who has heard of or had the chance to meet the legendary Monkey King.

"Eternal life can bring eternal suffering, I don't want you to feel the same way as me."

The fact that Sun Wukong has said his goodbyes to you and gone from your sight, the good thing is glad to know that you have great life and bright future ahead from destiny than his. The bad thing is, he will miss you deeply more than you ever know.

────･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together." - Marilyn Monroe.

MK

At first, Mk does not understand why you would choose someone like him to be your boyfriend, and he felt that not asking about it was better. He always thinking that he does not deserve your love.

Mk ponders about you cherish them because they are a powerful hero, and everything else within them has no importance. That is why the noodle boy worried that one day they would accidentally use their unnatural monkey magic skills to hurting you, and afraid they might fail to save you from danger.

Mk is often excusing himself with his training, delivering noodles, saving the world/universe, and joining his friends to avoid you.

Mk repeatedly forgets the important events, such as your birthday, the dating anniversary day, the national holidays, and meeting with your friends or family. Heis busy to handle with the fate of being heroic rest on his shoulders, and gaining more trauma through the rest of his journey.

One time, Mk send one of their clone to accompany you in the entire day. Later, the copy of them bluntly told you that they (Original self) actually felt forced in love and does not feel the same way as you anymore.

You have grown tired of him and finally choose to breakup for the best, which Mk had expected and planned this all along.

"I'm very sorry! You deserve someone else better than me."

Though still feeling awkward, you and Mk agree to became friends once again. Furthermore, both of you always ignoring the questions of "That's your ex?"

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

"Sometimes the only way to let go is to love someone enough to want the best for him or her, even if that means not being together." - Anonymous

The Mayor

After years of dating, there is nothing special happening between the two of you. No happiness and no pleasure, just empty.

Oh, how unfortunate you do not know so much about him, even his real name is remain unknown. The Mayor is most likely to kept horrifying secrets and plans to himself from you.

Sadly, whenever the Mayor is near you, he did not have a smile on his face. Only emotionless can be seen in your eyes. Revealing his true colors.

The Mayor would rather focus on granting his Lady's requests than to spend all of his time with you.

It is a ridiculous suspicion that the Mayor is cheating on you simply because he worships The Lady Bone Demon as his only goddess until the bitter end.

At long last, you decided to breakup with the cold-hearted and odd man, his response is none other than a giggle and does not mind.

"You see, dear?" Mayor spoke up as he turn around, "letting someone go is actually easier than we thought."

At that exact moment, the Mayor show his silly toothy smile to you for one last time before he disappeared. Leaving you heartbroken and wish him for the best to accomplish his duty.

──･ ｡ﾟ☆*. .* ☆ﾟ.──･☆ﾟ.──･｡ﾟ☆ *. .* ──

True Colors - SLAVES

"Wait, did you ever take a moment just to think

About anyone, anyone other than yourself?!

Give me back the love I wasted now

Cold, one day it's gonna hit you, you're alone

I won't be there, won't be there

It's cruel to turn around

Give me back the love I wasted now."

[i-did-not-mean-to]

The curse of being loved

This ficlet is my peace offering to @sortumavaara.

I have not forsaken your blorbo. I swear... I'm just not good at writing him lol

@elanna-elrondiel you wanted to be tagged. @cilil this is your fault for enabling and encouraging me!

Characters: Elrond, Elros, Elwing, Maglor, Maedhros

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: Sadness, Eldritch powers, kids are creepy, self-realisation, murder, canonical slaughter, canonical kidnapping

The first language Elrond had ever heard was the breathless cries of amazement and captivation at perceiving him, and he’d understood it at once even though he didn’t yet comprehend the power inherent to that instinctive reaction of bone-deep awe.

As was expected and natural, he was loved and cherished by his parents, and, if he noticed that their level of watchfulness went beyond that of others, he did not think anything of it.

Why would he have? He’d never known any other way of being treated.

Likewise, he’d never really questioned the strange appeal he and Elros seemed to hold for almost any other adult in the dismal camp of refugees. They were twins, a two-pronged beacon of life and hope, and it made sense that those who’d previously suffered such pains and deprivation would feel inexorably drawn to the soft, open faces of young children.

Elrond was aware that—in a world full of lurking danger and dark doom—he was vulnerable and precious to the adults in his life, not least because of the importance and wisdom of his genitors who were still utterly besotted with his charming smiles and pleading glances.

As time went by, though, he soon learned how to capitalise on that undeniable weakness in that self-forgotten, profoundly selfish way that was typical for toddlers.

Thus, he observed the reactions of those surrounding him with dispassionate curiosity, adjusting his mannerisms and voice in a myriad of discreet, nigh-imperceptible ways to consciously exacerbate the strange, alluring, corrupting effect he had on people.

In time, and almost despite himself, he started to tilt his head in a way that made his eyes gleam and his skin appear fragile and translucent like the finest porcelain, having ascertained through trial and error that this made it patently impossible for anyone looking at him to avert their eyes or deny him even the most outlandish request.

Barely out of infancy, he was continually perched on someone’s arm like a wondrous bird wrought of unconfessed wishes and stardust—back then, he was blessedly ignorant of his own lineage and the terrible might it conferred to him, and he shamelessly basked in the attention and admiration with which he was unceasingly showered.

Slowly but obdurately, all his motions grew thoughtful and elegant long before other children his age had outgrown the phase of rambunctious chaos, and yet, neither he nor his brother was ever truly ostracised or mocked by their peers for their peculiar charm that invariably turned rational sages and ferocious warriors into blabbering fools.

They were loved by all they met, and they hadn’t yet made any experience that would push them to worry about something as self-evident and wholesome as the simple fact that people seemingly never grew tired of watching them play or listening to them talk, no matter the subject and its relative importance.

Growing older and fairer with every passing day, Elrond before long was overcome with the unshakable sensation that the people around him drew an unfathomable, indescribable sense of soothing and even healing from their every interaction with him, and so he pushed aside his nascent qualms at having praise and gifts bestowed upon him without measure or restraint.

Still, he felt adored, respected, and valued in his community, and he began to feel responsible for those who had taken such generous care of him in return. When he grew to his full strength, he vowed, he’d prove himself worthy of all the affection that had been heaped upon him for as long as he could remember.

One fateful day, though, their mother—in their father’s absence—threw herself into the arms of the sea, desperate tears channelling her bright gaze into a deadly beam of cutting devastation that would sunder her from her sons forever.

Elrond was too stunned to even cry out—he didn’t understand. How could a woman whose very purpose in life had been to coddle and adulate her sons do something so cruel and reckless?

Of course, he did not get the time to further muse about these confusing, contradictory truths in peace, though, as a stranger approached him, his long-fingered hands extended as if to promise with his whole body that he meant him and his brother no harm.

Was it instinct or habit, Elrond would never be able to determine later on, but, abandoned by his father and bereft of his mother, he shamelessly angled his face upwards to catch the flickering light of his childhood being put to the torch in his wide, wet eyes.

Robbed of all his anchor points, he fell back on the hitherto unquestioned, flawlessly reliable magic that coursed through his veins—pushing Elros behind him, he moulded himself into the most appealing version of himself to cow the ominous, looming threat by innate enchantment alone.

The stranger chuckled softly. “I used to do that,” he confessed in a soft, melodious voice that seemed to chime like a thousand golden strings. “Nelyo was always the pretty one, but I was ever able to coax and coerce people by a mere glance or a whispered word.”

Elrond flinched back as if struck. Why did this atrocious confession echo through his whole being, sending nauseating waves of shame and guilt crashing into his soul?

There was something so callously, insultingly veracious in that careless quip that Elrond felt his mask of puerile purity slip, revealing the deep-felt shock and sudden fear lurking underneath to the merciless stare of the murderous intruder.

“You truly are of Melian’s blood.”

Frowning, Elrond shook his head in a vain attempt to dispel the gossamer threads of dark and dangerous magic the man’s voice wove around his frantic mind, choking all sense of self-preservation and caution out of it mercilessly.

“Who are you?” he asked, feeling Elros’s cold hand press against the small of his back as if to encourage him or hold him back.

The fearsome foe hesitated for a heartbeat. “Maglor,” he then sighed. “Call me Maglor.”

At once, Elrond pounced on that minuscule mellowing. Stepping forward fearlessly, he put out his slender, tiny hand and conjured up his most enthralling, hypnotizing smile. “I’m Elrond, and this is my brother Elros. You wouldn’t harm us, would you?”

Wearily, Maglor—who was drenched in blood and covered in mud and miserable memories—let go of his blade and wiped his pale, empty palm across his sweat-sheened brow. “No,” he finally grunted. “I know not whence the spell you’ve put upon me has issued, and I like it not to find such power in one so young, but I admit that all bloodlust has drained from my heart. Come away, there is nought here for you but death and starvation.”

“You hexed him,” Elros whispered as they were led out of the camp. “There comes another one, can you do it again?”

In truth, Elrond was shaken to his core. After a bountiful childhood at the bosom of his parents’ people, he now came to understand that he wielded a fearsome and potentially perilous power.

He yearned to seek out his mother’s wisdom or his father’s stalwart support, but he knew not where they were, and he doubted that he’d ever be reunited with them.

Too many epiphanies—much too weighty and woeful for a mere child to fully fathom—hit him at once, and he longed to curl up in the warm, protective arms of those who’d gathered around his bassinet and his naïve games to cheer and comfort him at every turn.

From the foul fumes of burning wood and smouldering stone emerged a figure—tall and stiff as a moving tree—and Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall every single instance in which he’d tricked someone into giving him an undeserved treat or forgiving a careless trespass upon their peace and property.

“Káno, what do you think you’re doing?” the newcomer rasped impatiently.

“Speak to the child,” their new minder, already half won over, replied in a clipped voice that turned his words into a hailstorm of icy shards. “You’ll see that I had no choice in the matter.”

With a scoff, the red-haired demon turned and stalked away.

“He’s afraid of your talents,” Elros cheered under his breath, and Elrond let him believe that the battle he was about to fight without even knowing his weapons was already won.

He’d have but little time to become consciously aware of his skills and hone them sufficiently to save their lives, but he’d not burden Elros with the devastating knowledge that they’d be on their own and at the mercy of their parents’ enemies henceforth.

When Maglor turned to lift his orphaned captives into his unyielding arms, Elrond leaned his soft cheek against the worn, dirty fur collar of his cloak in a gesture reminiscent of a defenceless kitten, seeking shelter and warmth.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered. He’d not only make these murderers spare their lives—he’d make them love him.

Again, this was an attempt at breaking me out of my writer's block, so there is no event, no Masterlist, no context...

Lots of love from me!

[genderkoolaid]

re: tme discourse. did these people forget about gnc men?? gnc men are ABSOLUTELY affected by transmisogyny despite not being transfem. but that's not convenient for the argument so it doesn't matter (sarcasm)

I mean they literally do not care. The answer to this will always be "that's just misdirected transmisogyny, its not the same". I've seen people claim that homophobia towards queer men is essentially transmisogyny-lite (and the two are connected but imo its about the misandry/antimasculism directed at queer people perceived at transgressing male gender roles, and I have a feeling TME/TMA proponents would Not like that interpretation lmao).

The thing is I do understand part of the use for TME/TMA. In that transfems are the targets of transmisogyny, tend to be the ones most aware of it because of this, and therefore transfem voices should be central to its discussion*. But thats true of every single form of bigotry, and we don't use this "affected/exempt" system for literally anything else. Because its entirely unhelpful to imply that who can be affected by a bigotry is based on their identity. Not only can you be targeted for the wrong reasons, but it can be physically and mentally damaging and occur often enough to be a fundamental part of your life experience. And this is why I mean that "misdirected bigotry" is never used for anything other than possessiveness over being the victims of a certain type of bigotry. Its only ever used to tell other people that their victimization was less harmful and that they do not have a right to speak about that form of bigotry, creating a dichotomy between "real victims" and "fake victims", which alienates a large portion of the people being directly affected by that bigotry.

I try to do the opposite on this blog: while transmascs should be centered in discussions of transandrophobia, I actively encourage anyone to discuss their experiences with it, or antimasculism/misandry, or exorsexism, or anything I talk about! Because it helps us learn more about the functions of bigotry, and creates solidarity between all victims regardless of who they are. People who otherwise would not have had their pain validated (bc they are not in communities where it is addressed in the first place) are helped, and we get so many more comrades in our fight! And we can be open and supportive of non-transmasc transandrophobia (or non-transfem victims of transmisogyny) without decentering transamscs(/transfems) from the discussion.

The reason why creating this victim binary is important for TME/TMA is because imo these acronyms cannot be divorced from the baeddelist idea that transmisogyny is the worst form of transphobia/oppression, and non-transfems are oppressors of transfems... and therefore cannot be allied with, or can only be allied with if they act subservient**. Its fundamentally tied to the idea that other trans people have systematic power over transfems (& the sister belief of "transphobia isnt real its all transmisogyny" and "transfems are the only real trans people"). Which is antithetical to transunity. The belief that transmascs/afab trans people(/maybe amab trans people depending on whos talking about who) have an oppressor/oppressed relationship with transfems should be a major red flag; it's the source of a lot of people's feelings of not having the authority to talk about transphobia or transness in general. It's the source of uncomfortable dynamics between transmascs&fems where transmascs are expected to be differential to transfems and see themselves as oppressors obliged to "give back" to their victims. It's the source of transmascs being told they aren't in danger and have an obligation to serve as human shields for transfems, which puts can put people in real, serious danger.

ANYWAYS. My point is that there is no group you can pull out to prove TME/TMA proponents wrong. Even intersex people are either completely ignored, demonized, or heavily criticized and nitpicked when talking about how this binary is intersexist, and same with black women, despite intersex cis black women being a main target of a lot of transmisogyny. The fact that non-AMAB transfems experience transmisogyny will not do anything to make them change their minds because it can and will always be labeled "misdirected" and therefore insignificant.

*before anyone says some shit: transfems helped create transunity, many transunitist are explicitly following the beliefs of transfems they know and have learned from. anti-transunitist transfems are not the only ones to have valid opinions on how transmisogyny works. stop erasing the work transfems have put into constructing transunity theory. its okay to admit you disagree with transunitist transfems you don't have to act like they don't exist while harassing them off the internet

**no this is not about all transfems. there are many transfems outspokenly against this & many transfems who have been hurt by this. it is not transmisogynistic to address the real, serious harm certain transfems have done to trans people, which (as can be read abt in the link) very much includes abusive behavior towards transmascs which (imo) mirrors a lot of the rhetoric I see online about how "TMEs" should behave.

[voltronisanobsession]

Compromised - Platonic Yandere! Voltron x Reader

This was a lot longer than what I intended it to be but whatever🔥

The rapid sound of footsteps echoed through the hallways, a sense of urgency present with each step taken. As the door came into view, the one door that held the most important thing in the universe, a sigh of relief was heard in the now quiet hall. He tried listening through the door for any signs of life, in which he received none, causing him to abruptly open the door.

There you laid on a bed, eyes tracing the ceiling blankly, ignoring the intruding figure at the entrance of your room. “Why didn’t you respond to the communicator Y/N?”

Turning your head, you stared at Shiro for a few seconds before ultimately deciding to stand up. “Sorry Shiro, I was just having so much fun. In this empty room. Doing absolutely nothing. Dying from absolute excitement.” The sarcasm seeped out like venom with each word, causing the man to wince.

Sighing, he responded, “I know staying in here isn’t an exactly ideal situation, but it’s the best way in keeping you safe.” Hopefully you would understand this time.

“Keeping me safe from what? The Galra? Space? You guys aren’t protecting me from anything, you’re only scared of what could happen to me.”

“Y/N.” Shiro just couldn’t understand how you didn’t see all the dangers that lay beyond the castle walls. How they’ve faced death on so many occasions just so they could continue saving the universe.

“No! It isn’t fair that I’m stuck locked in this stupid room with you saying you’re protecting me when you guys willingly throw yourselves in the face of danger! I can defend myself, I’m a paladin of Voltron too!”

“No you cannot Y/N. Remember how Keith had to save you from that Galra soldier who tried slicing you in half? Or how you lost your bayard because you were too busy trying to escape one of the sentrys’ shooting at you? Everything we do is for you, whether you choose to see that is on you.”

In frustration, you grabbed the nearest item (aka a pillow) and threw it against the wall, watching the feathers explode from its case. This wasn’t fair.

“I got my bayard in the end though! And if I lose my bayard again I can always try to summon it back like you did! I’m more than just some item to be kept away forever. I am a part of this team as much as anyone else!”

Dragging his metal hand across his face, Shiro had to take a deep breath before walking fully into the room, sitting on your bed after locking the door behind him. He patted the spot next to him, urging you to sit with him, which you reluctantly did.

“I was only able to get the black lions’ bayard by chance Y/N. In a real situation, if your bayard was taken from you, the chances of you successfully summoning your bayard is extremely low.” This caused you to deflate a bit.

“We know how bad you want to join us during missions, but putting you out in the field is too much of a risk we don’t want to take. Y/n, please, you have to see how important you are to all of us. The thought of you getting hurt physically pains me.”

This caused you to hang your head low, making Shiro think he finally knocked some sense into you. “But you guys get hurt too. Why am I the only exception? If you just give me the opportunity to show you all I can be helpful then I wouldn’t constantly fight against you.”

“You don’t even have a lion Y/N. You know yours was destroyed during the creation of the lions, so even if we were to allow you on missions you wouldn’t be able to do much. It’s better to have you away from battle.

Finally getting fed up, you sprang from the bed onto your feet which surprised Shiro. You didn’t care if they didn’t allow you into battle. You didn’t care if you had to stay with Coran watching and aiding from the sidelines, you just wanted to be out of this room.

Suddenly Allura’s voice rang throughout the castle and in your room from the speakers. “Shiro we need you in the bridge immediately.”

You watched with intense eyes as the man got up from your bed, heading towards the door of the room. “Shiro if you leave without me right now, I promise you I will do everything in my power to leave by myself.”

Shiro hesitated for a moment, hearing how bitter the words were. Looking back, all he could see was the anger in your eyes, as if you already knew what he was going to say.

“I’m sorry Y/N, we’ll continue talking about this when I come back.” This caused you to flop on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling once again, just like how he had originally found you.

Opening the door, he looked back once more, departing with his final words, “Please make sure you respond to the communicator on time.”

Receiving no reply, Shiro walked out, locked the door, and began heading to the control room, completely unaware of your quiet plans.

Sitting up, you listened as Shiro’s footsteps became quieter the further he walked away from your room until there was nothing but silence. Closing your eyes, you began focusing on the one thing you’ve been training yourself for after all this time. Shiro was able to summon the black lions bayard from a vast distance, who’s to say you couldn’t do it either.

Despite Shiro’s past words echoing in your mind, you brushed it off, almost feeling like this will finally be the attempt that will succeed. Having your bayard would mean being able to get out of the suffocating room, and a chance at freedom. You were taking a huge risk in attempting this but at this point, nothing else really mattered. Only the thought of freedom was keeping your fire burning.

Concentrating hard, you began slowing your heartbeat, taking deep breaths, and trying to connect yourself to your bayard. Searching, it took a while before you found the resembling energy of your bayard. It was faint, very faint actually, showing the distance between you and your beacon of hope.

Opening your hand slightly, you began imagining the feeling of the bayard, remembering how it weighed in your hand and remembering the energy it had given you in the short moments you had it.

It was yours, it’s energy finally connecting with your own. The feeling was uncomfortable at first, it was almost like something was being shoved into your body, making you feel a whole new energy present.

A bright light flashed causing your heartbeat to accelerate, praying that the light was really what you thought it was. Slowly opening your eyes, the heavy weight in your hand confirmed your prayers. The bayard was clutched in your hand, gleaming under the light of your room.

“YES! YESYESYESYES YEEESSS!” Jumping on the bed with joy, your eyes slightly filled with tears. You knew you could do it! Everything they’ve said about you was wrong!

“Oh my gosh I actually did it! Haha suck on that Shiro!” Your bayard transformed into your weapon, the feeling of your dagger familiar and comforting as you ran to the door. Forcing the dagger between the wall and the door, you grunted from the force you applied as you tried opening it.

Slowly but surely, it slowly began to slide open, the small opening being forced wide enough for your whole body to fit through.

You needed to get to an escape pod immediately before any of them noticed you were running around the castle freely. You’ll figure out step two once you’re out of the castle.

Sprinting through the corridors, you realized you were on the opposite side of where you needed to be. You could only hope you made it far enough before one of them took notice.

While the others spoke of their next move against the Galra, Coran was busy loading up information onto the system, when he got a small pop up of a small dot traveling quickly through the halls.

“Uh guys? I think we may have a problem.” Quickly tapping around, he pulled up a camera to your room first, eyes widening as he saw the forced opening of your door.

“What’s going on Coran?” Hunk moved next to the shocked man, his own eyes opening wide while the rest of the group gathered around quickly. Keith was the first one to dash out of the room not wanting to waste another second as you ran through the halls of the castle.

“How did they even do that?!” Lance quickly grabbed his bayard, anxiously waiting for instructions. The group watched as Coran replayed the video, seeing you struggling while trying to open the door with your dagger, the one thing their eyes focused on immediately.

“Alright team let’s move out! Coran do you have any idea where Y/N could be heading?” Hunk and Pidge went to retrieve their own bayards while Allura stared at the screen with a blank face.

“Uuummm from what I’m seeing, they’re trying to get to the opposite side of the castle!”

“Y/N is trying to get to the escape pods.” Allura was awoken from her trance like state, running towards the doors of the control room, everyone following after her.

“Here you go paladins! Y/N is a bit ahead of you all but it seems Keith is near them.” A map popped up in the group’s helmets, the red dot a stark contrast against the six blue dots that moved across a map of the castle.

“Alright listen up! Our best bet is to try and cut Y/N off from their path. We need to lead them back to the control room, there we’ll have the upper hand in a more enclosed space!” Shiro’s voice was strong and powerful as he spoke, the others grunting in agreement as they all continued running down the corridors.

“Found them!” Keith yelled out as the group followed to where his and Y/N’s dot were shown on the map.

Quickly turning the corner, Pidge was abruptly shoved into a wall as Allura saved her from the flying knife heading her way.

“Keith!”

“WHY CAN’T YOU GUYS JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” You yelled out in frustration, blocking Keith’s attacks with your much smaller blade. Kicking him back, Keith stumbled onto Lance, causing both of them to tumble onto the ground.

Running around the next corner, the rest of the team followed after you.

“Remember the plan guys! Left!” In confusion, you looked back only to see a blast coming straight for you on your right. Quickly jumping to the left, you turned the left corner in order to avoid Lance and Hunks’ nonstop firing.

Running down the hall, you were about to make a right until Shiro yelled out, “Left!”

You watched with wide and shocked eyes as Keith’s sword flew straight past your head and into the wall in front of you. This caused you to stumble a little into the wall, running towards the left once again.

“WHAT THE HELL KEITH! ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO KILL ME?!” After running down multiple hallways, it didn’t take you long to figure out they were trying to lead you somewhere as you began recognizing some of the rooms you ran by.

Were they trying to herd you into one of the rooms?! Looking back once again, you noticed how concentrated all of them looked as they followed you down each turn. Deciding to take the ultimate risk, you headed in the opposite direction Shiro yelled out. “Left!”

Taking a breath in, you ducked past Allura’s whip as she threw it rather aggressively, instead heading towards the right. You needed to get to a pod asap, you were beginning to grow tired.

You used your advantage to put as much space between you and the paladins as they stumbled confused into a wall after you didn’t turn into the direction they were leading you to.

“Uh guys! I think Y/N found out what we’re trying to do!” Hunk yelled out as he quickly pushed himself off the wall, huffing a bit as exhaustion began seeping through his bones.

“No kidding! What do we do now?!” Lance could only run so fast before he began falling behind with Hunk.

“Run!” Keith could feel his heart thumping against his chest, watching as you turned the final corner before disappearing from their sight. Pushing harder, he, Allura, and Shiro swiftly followed after you with Pidge close behind.

You finally had made it to one of the escape pods, quickly trying to open it before hearing a loud shout.

“I’m sorry Y/N!” Next thing you knew, a wire was wrapped around your leg and you were yanked off the pod. Grunting out in pain from the harsh landing, you quickly in return yanked Pidge’s cord with all your strength causing her to lose her balance.

“Y/N please! What has gotten into you?!” Allura was huffing a bit yet she was filled with enough energy to fight if needed.

“What has gotten into ME?! I absolutely refuse to be locked up again!” At this, Lance and Hunk busted through and into the room where all of you stood tensely, waiting for someone to make a move.

You stood your ground, clutching onto your dagger tightly, watching silently before noticing Keith eyeing your weapon.

“How did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter how I got it. Let me go.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Keith began to run towards you before he felt a hand clamping over his shoulder. You stood in a more defensive position after the abrupt movement. Keith’s angry eyes made contact with Shiro’s narrowed ones.

“You can’t leave Y/N. Even if you get into the pod you won’t be able to get out of the castle.”

You wouldn’t let them see how your hands shook, you won’t let them know that you knew Shiro was right. Not after you came this far. Not when you were so close to freedom.

That’s when an idea came into your head.

Quickly, you pointed the dagger straight over your heart, now knowing you had the upper hand as you heard the gasps coming from all of them. You were only bluffing but with the state you were in, they didn’t know that.

“Y/N!” Hunk gasped in shock, hands suddenly trembling with fear. Allura gulped audibly, her hands now tightly clutching her weapon, hoping that’ll lower her nerves.

“Y/N please. Please take that away from you.” Keith’s voice strained in anxiety, eyes wide as he watched you take a few steps back. Lance lowered his gun, hoping that that might calm you down.

“There’s a better way this could end.” Shiro looked at the group, fear present in all of their eyes. Pidge was the first one to drop her bayard, almost sensing that was the only way to pacify you.

“Thanks Pidge. Now the rest of you, drop your weapons.” They all hesitated until you threateningly moved the dagger closer to your chest. Quickly, Lance dropped his weapon with Hunk following after him. After intensely staring at you, Allura threw down her bayard, hearing it clank loudly against the floor.

Being the last one, Keith looked over to Shiro, seeing the man nod, he dropped his sword, watching it turn back to its original form. You had completely forgotten about his knife, seeing as you soon began to relax a bit.

“We’re willing to work with you Y/N. But not if you’re openly threatening your own life.” Allura’s voice was sharp, yet you could hear the slight tremble in her voice.

Glancing at all of them one last time, you slowly lowered you weapon, letting your arms fall to your side. Walking over to the spacecraft, you leaned against it and had to hold back a chuckle as you saw all of them flinch the closer you got to the ship.

“I don’t want to be locked up anymore.” Was the first thing you said after a few moments of silence. Shiro clenched his jaw, already knowing where this was heading.

“You all say this was for the better but I was slowly going insane trapped in there. You all seem to know me well. You know under normal circumstances, I would never go against you guys.”

You slowly walked up to the group, glancing around to find a camera pointed directly at you all, knowing Coran was watching how this all went down. Like a predator stalking its prey, you circled around them, kicking their bayards further away from them, one by one.

Now standing in front of them, at a distance, you looked at them each in the eyes.

“Now let’s talk.”

[various-things]

rambling about my feelings and Past Tense and Julian and covid and other 2024 problems

Adding a cut since this is a long post.

I have a lot of grief and disappointment about covid stuff I haven't fully found my way out of. Maybe I never will, and that is what it is. You love the world and the world breaks your heart and you love the world. There's probably some wonderful quote about that I can't remember right now. But, this moment from Julian in the first part of Past Tense was something that resonated really strongly for me for a while when it came to my struggles (that haven't ceased to exist, but the pain is a lot quieter these days) with people (especially friends and those I knew directly) not masking in shared public indoor spaces:

SISKO: It's not that they don't give a damn, Doctor. It's that they've given up. The social problems they face seem too enormous to deal with. BASHIR: That only makes things worse. Causing people to suffer because you hate them is terrible, but causing people to suffer because you have forgotten how to care? That's really hard to understand. I have my own little desperately-clung-to headcanon that Julian, who I relate to and admire so much, would share these feelings. That he'd still put on a mask in our 2024 when running an errand and definitely in a medical facility. That he wouldn't accept the vulnerable falling "by the wayside" as an acceptable cost of forgoing that practice.

Masks work. Cleaning the air works (it's why risk is so much lower outdoors if not in a crowd). We could have had something so different than our current circumstances in the US where we insufficiently track infections, where vaccines (which do not stop covid transmission but remain incredibly important) are becoming inaccessible to so many. 1 in 10 infections (a fairly conservative commonly used stat) results in long covid and access to effective treatment is a huge issue. We don't have access to up-to-date at home tests and our current generation of RATS suck at giving us accurate negative results. Even as so many of covid's dangers sicken and disable, it remains a leading cause of death. And I know that so many people do not know these things. That they have been under-served and lied to by the institutions that should (sigh, "should") offer accurate science, and affordable (or free) resources to stay safe with—but don't. Even people who do know these things often have to face isolation, or ostracism, or worse if they try to hold out on some of their precautions.

It could all be better. The exchange between Sisko and Julian at the end of Past Tense's second part made me reflect the other day—maybe I saw it in a gifset? Julian says:

BASHIR: You know, Commander, having seen a little of the twenty first century there is one thing I don't understand. How could they have let things get so bad? The Past Tense two-parter focuses on issues of (I don't think I can do a good job of summarizing this but) failed and oppressive systems, houselessness, classism, societal collapse. It reflects so many of our current problems. "How could they have let things get so bad?"—"they" meant generally, I think. But they didn't. We didn't. This fucked up situation we're in is a product of choices from very rich and very powerful people. I know that's an obvious statement. I know! But it's a true one. I don't have any polished conclusion to this. We can do what we can. We can try to build community. We can use every tool we have available to us and that also involves contacting our representatives and shit even when they ignore us. It's very, very, important that we look to our local communities and see where we can help. If we all put some time, which will look different for everyone, into helping each other locally that would, has, will change so much. We don't have to do that alone. Help can look like so many things, our needs and skills have so much important variety. This isn't a conclusion but it's the end of the post. Transcripts taken (and cut down in places) from http://www.chakoteya.net

[nokingsonlyfooles]

"Still, the effort stands almost no chance of succeeding in this Congress."

This is where we are. Politicians moving pieces around as if there is a play to be made, while knowing they will lose.

And, given the vibe check in my feed, this is where a lot of voters are too. Somehow, it will be less of a dictatorship if Communications Breakdown McGenocide staggers his way back into office. Because Democrat = Harm Reduction. PERIOD. We MUST do the ONLY THING WE CAN DO even if we KNOW that won't fix it.

I don't want to stop you. Vote your conscience. But don't vote your terrified ignorance. Stop for two seconds. Stop venting your anxiety at leftists who are just as scared as you are but dealing with it differently. Sit there with your own thoughts in your own head and sort them out. November is a long way away, you have time to think. This can't possibly be the only thing you can do.

You're gonna wake up after the election. Someone will win, someone will lose, and the Supreme Court's decision will stand - even if the amendment process continues, it will take years, so that decision will stand. You should be scared and sad no matter who's in the big chair. You should not be rooting for Biden to go full Stalin and take it out on some Republicans - a Blue dictatorship is not a win for democracy, why do I even have to say this?

So you'll be scared and sad but your life will still be there. It is very likely that the inertia will keep you safe for quite some time. Maybe your whole life - although if you've got kids, you should die worried for them. You'll need to go to work to buy food and housing. You'll have prescriptions to fill and repairs to make. You'll hafta pick out some presents for a birthday or holiday. All of that will still be there to distract you from the situation - and it will be good and important and make you feel happy and safe. Sometimes. Sometimes, you will still feel okay.

You have to decide if that is enough for you - spending down the good times you have left until they are gone, and dealing with whatever consequences as they hit. But, I promise you, there are people out there who are already unsafe and know it. There will be more and more people, maybe including your kids, who won't stop saying, "This isn't okay," because it's not. It hasn't been for a long time, but it's getting really obvious now.

And sometimes people will do things trying to fix it that intrude on the things you do to feel okay. They'll block traffic, or damage property, or yell real loud, or hurt your feelings, or even do something that gets human beings injured or killed. If you were happy for the Hong Kong protests or the Arab Spring, or the Civil Rights Movement or whatever distant protest that didn't inconvenience you, personally, now you'll have to square that up with protests that do. This will be that "glorious revolution" you don't want - your friends, neighbours and family pushing back, even when it hurts.

Even when it hurts you, because your continued emotional and even physical safety is very small, and the danger is very large.

You gotta decide if you're going to sit there and cry about your injury, and extrapolate your pain only so far as other people who want to sit still and colour within the lines like good voters, or if you want to push back too. I have no idea what pushing back will look like for you in your situation. For me, my health is in the crapper -I fled, and I'm fighting to repair myself. It's looking like the most I can do is donate money and write words no one will read - but it's not nothing. And it's not shutting people down when they mention something is wrong and voting won't fix it - which is worse than nothing.

If Biden doesn't win, it's not going to be because I betrayed him. I'm a voice in a void, with no campaign funding or right to influence his decisions. He decided he didn't want my vote a long time ago, he told me and I listened. Moderate Democrats and the corporate interests that fund them are abandoning him. They do not see an impending collapse and do not care if Trump wins. It won't make much difference to them.

Rep. Jared Golden, a moderate Democrat from Maine, argued the outcome of the election was a foregone conclusion. “While I don’t plan to vote for him, Donald Trump is going to win,” Golden said in a Bangor Daily News op-ed. “And I’m OK with that.”

I'm not OK with it. I'm not OK either way. I'm trying to repair my body enough that I can protest without being a liability, but that may not happen. If all I can do is get out of the fucking way, then I will. But I will not lay down my broken body to protect a system that wants me dead - I don't care if that scares you.

You should be scared. It's not okay. Get up. What are you going to do?

[offsidekineticist]

This probably should have been 2 chapters, but while I think the first part could be fleshed out into chapter length with a different POV, I'm less confident about the second, arguably much more important part. Also I'm impatient and want to share this bc being like "I can't mention this thing about my blorbos cuz it's a spoiler for my fic" sucks.

CW: gore, blood, burning, exhausted/traumatized character having difficulty communicating, character being possessed and corresponding loss of bodily control, mentions of torture in folklore (implied sexual), Sleeping Beauty (Disney) style dubcon

For the Velstrac

The sun hurts. Your eyes squeeze shut by themselves. You try to stop them because you can't sleep, but the sun hurts so they do what they want. The air is warmer than in your cell, but it moves more, which helps with the sleepiness. it smells like dew, instead of must and excrement and blood.

It's nice. The only problem is that it's loud. There's shouting and the clanging of metal weapons and screams and the roar of flames–

Your eyes slowly adjust to the glaring light. The hole leading to the tunnel into Rivad is just behind you. In front of you is a vast camp of soldiers–mostly paladins, if you had to guess–presently in a state of chaos because the dinosaur shaped collection of artifacts that dug your escape route is rampaging through their camp and growing as magical weapons and armor fly in a flurry towards it. Soldiers are desperately trying to stand their ground as their weapons, tabards, protective amulets, or even their very armor are pulled into the beast to sate its appetite. Others–poorer soldiers, judging by their shabby armor–rush through the camp, movement uninhibited by the golem's call, trying to help their fellows.

A paladin in shining holy armor loses grip on the tentpole he used to steady himself. He flies towards the golem, and you watch his armor almost explode with blood and viscera as it twists and compresses to fit into the bizarre three dimensional puzzle circling through the camp.

"Shit–we have to stop it!" Qweck says, voice pitched high with conviction, and you feel a twinge of pride along with your exasperation. Qweck, so concerned about others–but she is hurt. She's doing her best to hide it, but you can see the bruising on her neck, can hear the strain in her voice. She's been brave–so incredibly brave–but it needs to stop. You need to get her home. She needs a healer. 

"How?!" Giliys demands from just behind you, and you wince at how loud he is.

"You mean you activated some kind of artifact eating golem of doom without knowing how to turn it off?!" Qweck demands, and you can tell she is losing her grip on her self-control by how her ears are twitching–they only do that when she's really angry. 

"Not like it came with a fucking instruction manual!" Gilly snaps. Qweck closes her eyes and takes a deep, long breath before opening her eyes and speaking.

"Get Theo to the ship as we planned. I'm going to stay and help."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Giliys demands as Qweck steps towards him, your arm still slung over her shoulder. "Look at that thing! It just headbutt a tunnel through solid fucking rock! What the fuck do you think you'll be able to do?"

"Heal the wounded, for one," she snaps, passing your arm to Giliys so she can run healing into danger, still injured herself. You grab her shoulder, ignoring the pain in your broken fingers as you do.

"No," you say as sternly as you can manage with a voice worn raw by screaming. "Qweck, you're–your neck–I can hear–you need a healer."

"She needs a healer? Fuck that, Thay, you need a healer–which is why you're here in the first place!" Giliys says, rebuking first you and then Qweck. "You wanna put this guy on a ship without a healer? In his condition? That's a fucking death sentence!"

Qweck's mask is perfect, the very image of Irorian calm–but her ears are still twitching. "Then find Vrakka and have her go with you." Vrakka–the druid girl? But she–Brastlewark must be hundreds of miles off. 

"Find Vra–sorry, Princess, my bird calls are rusty. Did you miss the part where the bitch flew away?"

"No," you interrupt, because Vrakka is not the point and neither are bird calls. "No, it's not–I'm not–the ship isn't–if you're staying–I have to–I mean it's my job to–you need to be safe. I need you to be safe."

"You hear that?," Giliys says. "Thay needs you to be safe. Now let's fucking go before the altar boys catch us."

Qweck ignores Giliys and puts both hands on your shoulders. "You've done your job, and you've done it well," she says, eyes locked with yours. "Now I have to do mine." She shrugs off your grip on her shoulder as she lets go of yours and plunges into the chaos of the camp. 

"Qweck! No!" You call, arm reaching uselessly towards her. She's gone. She's gone and she's hurt and she's–

"Fuck–what the fuck are we supposed to do now?!" Giliys howls, enraged.

"Help me help her," you rasp.

"Yeah, right. What are you gonna do, fall on it?"

"Giliys please!" A lump is forming in your throat making it even harder to talk than it already I'd. "She–she is–she's–please."

Giliys closes his eyes, a look of resigned exasperation on his face. "Fuck. Why'd you have to go and say please? Fine." He begins dragging you with him towards the camp. 

"Thank you."

"Don't fucking thank me! I'm dragging you to your fucking death!" He spits on what probably used to be a paladin as you pass and enter the camp.

"Don't need–it's ok to–you can't–be nice."

"Be nice?!" 

No, 'be nice' wasn't what you meant. You meant that he didn't have to pretend to be cruel, that you saw through it. But you're exhausted, and words are hard, and you've barely the strength to use them, so instead you just repeat "thank you."

Giliys grunts. "Not like I can put you on a boat until a healer sees you anyway. What the hell, why don't we just go out in a blaze of glory trying to save a bunch of altar boys from a fucking dinosaur? Not like I got anything else scheduled for fucking ev–kch!"

It happens so quickly you're not sure how it happens. One second you're leaning on Giliys as he gripes about helping Qweck. The next there's an enormous blade poking through Giliys's chest, pulling him–and you–towards the golem.

"Gilly? Gilly!"

He stares at the blade in his chest, his feet–and yours–dragging across the ground. "Shit," he wheezes. "Can't–can't hold it–Thay, run."

"Can't hold whah–"

Giliys pushes you away. You fall. Fire explodes from his wound. You cover your face, curling into a ball to protect yourself from the fire. A strange, inhuman laughter fills the air.

"FINALLY!" You peek through your fingers up at Giliys. He is floating a foot off the ground. He holds the blade with his bare hands and pulls. Out comes the sword, the hilt soaked in blood as it crashes through his chest, tearing the wound even wider and leaving behind a gaping hole, gushing with blood and fire.

You're not supposed to take the weapon out of a stab wound if you can help it. That makes the victim bleed out faster. You reach out and grab the weapon as it flies towards the golem. It drags you a few feet until you manage to toss your open bag in its path. The sword flies into the bag, and the bag goes still as its anti scrying spells hide the sword from the golem's hunger.

There. Now you can put the sword back in Giliys's chest once he stops floating.

(You really are exhausted)

You're able to push yourself to your knees and look up. The hole in his chest is closing–or you think it is. Less fire and blood seems to bleed from it with each passing second until the hole is closed. His eyes light up with flame as he holds up and examines flaming hands.

"YES. THIS WILL DO NICELY. NOW BURN."

Streams of flame fly from Giliys's hands, devouring soldier after soldier after soldier. It's no normal flame–it leaves tent and banner and wood untouched, but consumes flesh and blood. Whatever has taken control of Giliys is cackling in perverse joy.

Your eyes scan the scene wildly looking for someplace to hide, some way to escape–you know the moment it looks down, you're doomed. Movement and a flash of green catch your eye. Qweck, about twenty feet behind where Giliys stood when he was impaled, sheltering behind a rack of spears and shields.

Qweck is here.

Oh, gods, Qweck is here.

You need to stop this now. You don't have time to retreat and regroup, Qweck is right there, and the second that thing sees her, she will burn. You need to bring Giliys back to himself, because even if he can be killed like this (probably not), even if you were physically able to kill him (certainly not), you know you'd never be able to bring yourself to do it because of your damn fool, treacherous, everbreaking heart.

Wait.

"For the Velstrac," you whisper to yourself in realization. A poem written by an unknown Nidalese Desnan, the finale to a collection of poems written by the narrator (the Lover) about the person they loved (the Beloved). The last poem is the most famous–and the saddest. The Beloved, damned to the Plane of Shadows by Zon-Kuthon's hold over Nidal, becomes the Velstrac, eager to torture the Lover with sadistic parodies of their former love. And yet, whereas most poems in the collection carry an underlying tone of fear or anxiety over Zon-Kuthon's hold over the Lover and the Beloved's souls, "For the Velstrac" ends with hope.

For with each kiss thy eyes have brighter seem'd

So by my pain I shall see thee redeem'd.

It would seem absurd to you if you were in your right mind. But you are exhausted and hurt and afraid and bound to protect Qweck, so you grasp at ideas with the clumsiness of a child, push yourself to your feet, and pull Giliys down out of the air to be saved by True Love's Kiss.

It's a terrible first kiss. Truth be told, you don't find the act of kissing itself particularly appealing. Your enjoyment of that and more intimate acts has always come from seeing your partner's ecstasy and knowing you caused it–the satisfaction of having done well, of being such a good partner that he has devolved into a lesser state of coherence. But Giliys himself is unable to react, and his body, still floating off the ground, puppeted by an unknown power, reacts with violence, his arms flailing unnaturally, twisting out of joint. His body is hot to the touch, and your lips are screaming at you to withdraw. But slowly, painfully slowly, the heat fades. The flailing stops. You feel Giliys sink downward onto his feet, and then collapse in a heap. You do not let go of his shirt in time. You fall with him, aching and exhausted, lips burning from this cruel mockery of what you've wanted for years.

You're too exhausted to move. You're sprawled on top of him, but you're too exhausted to move. Your ear is pressed against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat–at first racing, but slowing in time to a gentle, steady pace that promises safety and carries you to sleep.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Know, Mentor, and First :)

oc asks: relationship edition

i was so hoping someone would send know, thank you <33

(also love that there's no specification of which oc i should be answering this for. we all know.)

Know: How well does your OC know themself—their wants, their goals, their motivations? Do they engage in any sort of self-reflection? Is there anything about themself they willfully ignore?

Cyrus only knows himself in relation to others. Strip away his sense of service, duty, obligation, oath, take him off of the battlefield and peel off all the armor and clean away all the blood he gave so no one else would have to, and his grasp of self becomes tenuous at best.

What's so fascinating to me about him is that that exterior selfhood isn't like... a mask or a performance, per se, because I think those terms imply a level of deception or intention, and it's not that for Cyrus. He genuinely, earnestly believes that the whole of himself is defined by what he can give to others. But there's also something artificial about that belief insofar as he's never stopped to question it or evaluate it. He's just always accepted it on faith alone. It Is him but it's also just slightly outside of him, if that makes any sense at all??

Which also ties into his lack of self-reflection. My boy has 8 wisdom introspection is very much NOT his strong suit, and a lot of the time, when he's ignoring some part of himself (his grief, his anger, his overprotectiveness), it's not a conscious choice but something that grows out of that lack of self-awareness.

Even when it comes to physical pain, his instinct to minimize it is just that: it's reflexive, involuntary, it doesn't even register to him as enduring a suffering that he doesn't have to. Much to the profound consternation of the healers who keep falling in love with him.

Mentor: Does your OC have a mentor? Have they ever reached out to anyone for guidance or teaching, or been taken under someone's wing? How does your OC get along with their mentor?

I think of Cyrus as self-taught in most regards, and that inability (largely imagined in DA2, actual in BG3) to rely on any adult or mentor figure is a huge part of why he's Like This.

In DA2, the closest thing he had to a mentor was the elder/hahren of the Amaranthine alienage, where he grew up. Elder Ischia was a wonderful community leader, someone Cyrus grew up wanting to emulate. When he and his family had to flee the city, she gave him a bone-hilt dagger--his first weapon--as a means of feeling like he had some agency and control in the midst of so much helplessness. He carries that dagger with him for the rest of his life, and many of his most important kills are carried out with it (including Anders :) ).

Also, across any timeline, Cyrus idolizes the crap out of his father as exactly the kind of man he wants to be. The paragon of masculinity that Cyrus, as a trans man, is trying to live up to. Sometimes, wearing Malcolm's memory is a gift. Sometimes, it feels like another miserable expectation.

First: Has your OC ever been the one to leave first? Why did they go, and who did they leave behind? Do they regret it?

Cyrus is so bad at leaving and letting go, but two instances across his two games come to mind:

In DA2, he leaves Bethany behind when he goes on the Deep Roads expedition. This decision was 1000% born out of him thinking it would be too dangerous for his sister. Bethany was outraged by it, and Cyrus came to regret it terribly when he returned home to find her being taken to the Gallows. For years, he maintained the belief that he had failed and abandoned Bethany by not trying harder to break her out of the Circle-- despite being told again and again that it wouldn't work, not least because Bethany didn't want to live her life on the run anymore. He eventually gets it through his thick skull, but there's a reason Bethany decides to stay with Isabela and Fenris instead of him at the end of everything.

In BG3, I have... many. Many. Many. Unresolved and free-floating thoughts about breaking up with Astarion at the party, particularly in light of the Act 2 reveal about the circumstances under which Astarion initiates that relationship. It's a tricky period to talk about precisely because Astarion is being so withholding and performative and Cyrus very naively takes it at face value (again, 8 wisdom, coming in under astarion's otherwise utterly average 10 charisma). Cyrus thinks he's following Astarion's lead and expectations, but Astarion himself doesn't know what or how to want and is instead trying to mirror Cyrus' want back to him, but Cyrus is bad at wanting things for himself, so........................................

Idk. I think about the mirror scene a lot-- Cyrus opening with the sweeter answer, but then flipping to straightforward confirmation of Astarion's beauty when he snaps that the former isn't what he's looking for.

Cyrus ultimately approaches that conversation at the party thinking they have the same understanding of what their relationship is/was: something casual, purely physical, and devoid of sentimentality. He's not wrong, necessarily-- from Astarion's perspective, this was all a ploy anyway! A desperate survival technique, leaping immediately to a tried and true self-destructive tactic because if you can't keep the hero at arm's length, better to keep yourself in his good graces, right?

But... it's very easy to interpret Astarion's dialogue & Neil's performance during the breakup as evidence that he had started to develop the feelings that lead, in Act 2, to him wanting a genuine relationship.

Or, would have led to that, had Cyrus stayed.

[maisonaime]

TW: discussion of trauma, mentions of a school shooting, me expressing my opinion loudly and unapologetically per usual

*sighs loudly*

*steps up on my (nonexistent) soapbox*

The way some of y’all talk about and invoke trauma so casually while arguing with strangers online is horrific. None of us is exempt from experiencing trauma in our life, so when you invoke trauma in an argument (other than to mention a warning/tag that should be added) what you’re actually doing is revealing yourself as a huge ass.

“Well how could you like [insert character here] they did [insert awful thing] to [insert another character here], you’re so ignorant to trauma”

No, you are. Would those words ever leave your mouth talking to someone in person? Then why do you feel so emboldened to say them online? Have you ever stopped to consider that someone else may see your words and feel deeply wounded or invalidated by what you said?

“Well [character]’s trauma isn’t that important compared to [other character]’s trauma”

Apples to oranges, trauma is not comparative and it is certainly not a competition.

“Well [character a] is awful because they treated [character b] this way, it doesn’t matter that they were traumatized.

Yeah absolutely that was awful and that character’s trauma does not serve as an excuse for their actions, no one’s trauma gives them license to treat others cruelly… that doesn’t stop it from happening frequently in stories and in real life. While I think it can toe a dangerous line of allowing people to excuse their actions as symptomatic of mental illness, I think it’s equally dangerous to label someone as entirely bad because that also gives them license to act according to that label.

Trauma is not a singular thing and the way people respond to trauma is entirely individual. Many many times peoples responses to trauma are not what they want them to be and it causes deep shame (speaking from personal experience), which certainly doesn’t help in the healing process. When people act from a place of pain they will sometimes pass that pain onto others, it is an awful and unavoidable consequence of being a person. Having that shame reinforced when you get online to go to a space of comfort and catharsis is unthinkable.

Part of my therapy modality (Acceptance & Committment or ACT therapy) is learning how to stop defining feelings/thoughts/actions/myself as good or bad because all those things are infinitely more multi-dimensional. Characters, people, actions are infinitely more complicated than one moment, one action, one season of their life.

When you label someone/something as bad and refuse to see the complexities of what formed and informed it, then you put a stopper on what it can become. When you do so in a public forum that others can see, and when you do it in a targeted, critical way, you’re probably unintentionally causing hurt. More than anything you’re demonstrating a commitment to misunderstanding people who have experienced trauma or struggled with mental health in a way that couldn’t be neatly tied up with a bow and packed away, as society loves to do with the traumatized and mentally ill. Especially when their symptoms are not considered socially acceptable.

And before anyone tries to come for me: if I can find a way to feel compassion for the person who shot up my university last year — despite the amount of pain and trauma they caused in a community that I love and hold dearly; despite the anguish and immense fear my friends, my family, my peers & I felt — then you can find a way to give some of these characters you hate so much a second glance before dismissing them so quickly.

TLDR: there’s no purpose in being an anti, go forth with kindness, and remember that when you’re talking about fictional characters on this app they will never read what you say about them, but real people are the ones reading and perceiving your words. When we can hold space for the multitude of experiences and traumas we have all had, we can heal from them. You’re never obligated to read a work that you don’t agree with, but you also don’t have to comment on it.

[jesteriajunovix]

I really love this post.

Talking about the implicit harms and toxicity within this Era of Internet Fandom fucking bangs.

There are so many layers of non-indulgence on the part of fans that create this "death of the author" bubble where the themes are melted into the shape of varying crude enigmatic desires.

It's very bizarre the scale of how much of it potentially isn't just ignorance, but a choice to ignore implication too. A very harmful thought that seems to be able to come from all forms of identities & fandom is the idea "I need this".

I need them to be gay, (Fujo Territory, and Toxic BL or GL)

I need them to be white, (White)

I need them to be in pain,

(sensationalized feeling externalized via the art of a character without thought of the contextual reality of what the art may represent to others. [Drawing young characters being bloodied, centering ones venting around depicting a character of another race being tormented, or further brutalizing a character tastelessly.]

and so on.

This idea of needing these characters in these ways and these ways showing themselves to be in demand for a fair share of a fandom's population genuinely is several studies and conversations to be had.

I say this with the intention of not coming off as pessimistic, but I do wonder if there will ever be a time when mediums, and media placed in this category of digital entertainment will be something communally more mature on a broader scale as the people who care about what other generations have deemed as "time wasting" art become more important in facilitating the safe spaces and environments in which this art is discussed and held.

Digital Communal Responsibility. Stronger Social Contracts.

There are so many social issues to worry about before we can really even consider getting there, but I have hope in my heart we will somehow.

It's too easy to ignore the task of actually indulging the meaning of art. Such a growing form of stagnation is so dangerous.

------------------------------------------------------------

Thematic Questions

do you know what your reaction to the media you consume means within the reality of your identity as it intersects with others?

Where do you think an artist's artistic intent comes from?

did it come from a healthy or unhealthy place?

how might your headcanon relatively align or contradict the health state of their art?

does your headcanon come from a healthy or unhealthy place?

Is the way you indulge art amongst fandom and community healthy?

how & why?

This isn't a "put a shirt on" thing. Do your conclusions feel right to you? I can only ask that you explore that for yourself as your ideas surrounding art grow alongside you as a person.......

again SUPER good post from zzxid. They constructed such a good point in such a good way and I appreciate people who can use words like this.

I genuinely think Mouthwashing fandom is a good example on how real life misogyny is very wired on people brains and influenced how they engage with fictional misogyny.

You have a story about a woman being assaulted and telling a man he trusted but being dismissed because he is friends with the attacker, and people fixate on shipping her with either of those me.

You have a story about how men that downplay their male friends violence, assume neutrality is the safer option, unintentionally help create an environment that's unsafe to vulnerable people, at a risk becoming a victim themselves. And people make it about toxic yaoi.

You have a character kill herself because she didn't want birth the child of her abuser. And people make AUs where she happily keep the baby.

Misogyny isn't just "I hate this women", it's also downplaying their trauma, defending those who caused it, and reducing them to mothers or wives against their wished under this idea of what womanhood is about.

I don't think we can separate fandom misogyny from it's real world influence, not yet.

[drawingducktalesducks]

I want to say I love how you nail Violet's personality when she's oft the 3rd wheel and ignored by most the fandom. You spin a calm exterior into just as much daredevil fun as the rest of team magic. Anyway praise out the way, do you ever stop to think how Violet sleeps armed ready and hoping to be attacked by mythical creature? Or in Moonvasion, Violet had Lena conjure up a mace ready to bash in skulls rather than a ranged/graceful weapon? Or how preparation for the underworld included an axe?

I think Violet is a very community-minded person with impeccable ethics who also wants to Smash Hack Break Destroy sometimes and that's valid

or to go into slightly more detail

Violet gives off a big vibe of self-awareness and self-improvement.

Does she dream of sitting quietly in a big library and reading? Yes. Does she spend all her time doing that? No, she takes a book along to a sleepover and reads it while surrounded by her friends, and she is happy to put even that book down to engage with them fully. She does not let her desire for knowledge isolate her from the people she cares about.

Does she want to know everything about this new part of the world (magic) that she never knew existed? Yes. Does she ever treat Lena, a magical shadow creature who is also a sorceress, solely as a source for said knowledge? No. She welcomes Lena into her family, makes a list of things to AVOID so as not to trigger Lena magic, suggests even stopping the sleepovers if it means nothing but danger and stress for her new sister, and very much looked ready to murder Magica in the Sorceress episode when Magica tries snatching at the amulet that was keeping Lena alive. Violet's desire for knowledge is never allowed to overrule her wish for people to feel safe.

Does Violet understand smack talk? No. Is she happy to learn it from her new, very supportive and encouraging sister, if Lena thinks its important? Yes, yes she is.

Taking all that into account, I'll posit this theory.

Violet REALLY wants to hit stuff with things. The Urge is Great. The safe and ethical outlets are few. Therefor, she can and WILL take every opportunity that comes her way, be it invading moon people or a potential visit to the underworld.

As to why she choses maces and axes specifically instead of more 'intellectual' or 'graceful' or 'brainy' options...

An axe or mace actually IS the smartest choice to her.

Allow me to weapon nerd

- Violet is not shown or hinted at to be trained in any martial art, or with any weapons. She has some athletics from the woodchucks and that's about it. > Ergo, she needs a weapon that doesn't take much skill or practice to use right. Ranged weapons, even firearms, do take practice and skill to use correctly. Melee weapons are more intuitive. Swords are versatile, but you don't need edge alignment or perfect body mechanics to hit someone with a mace and make it hurt, every angle of it is an ouchy pain stick. And while and axe does have an edge, it's a also a tool she might be familiar with from the woodchucks, and even if you hit someone with the blunt edge the result is still Very Bad. For them. - Violet is a child and has not shown any above average strength, a la Webby. She also has no magic (yet). > So what she needs is something that will multiply the strength she DOES have. A mace or axe does that, much the same way a hammer works better for knocking through stuff than your fist will. The ability to swing it two handed also reduces the amount of starting strength you need to do damage with it, and can increase the accuracy of your swings. - Since adventures can happen at any time, and involve ending up in any number of places, and since she will almost always be facing them with Lena at her side (Lena seems to prioritize protecting Violet in dangerous situations, which makes sense considering the above), and since Lena is a sorceress who's most powerful attack is a ranged magical blast... Violet trying to lug around multiple weapons, or a larger weapon like a spear, would be redundant. > With that in mind, the need for a weapon will be greatest if something gets past Lena's ranged attacks and closes distance rapidly. For that, and to make sure she won't be too impeded if she finds herself in an enclosed space, a shorter melee weapon again makes the most sense.

All that being said, she might really just like, you know smashing things. And that is, again, Valid.

.... and would fit with her being a hummingbird, actually. They, at least some of them anyway, have a reputation for reckless aggression, despite their size. I believe there was a belief in South America that the spirits of falling warriors would take the form of humming birds after death. So it could also be a meta reference that this small purple bird has a tendency towards swinging around rather intimidating weaponry.

anyway can you tell i love her lots yeah or nah

[astrologyartandcinema]

Mercury Pluto Aspects

Taken from the Late, Great and disabled Astro Arena, not my original work but impossible to find on the web these days. If anyone knows if the former owner of the Astro Arena blog has a Tumblr or link I can give credit to please DM or comment. I haven't been able to access their writing in many years and any information on where to access it would be appreciated.

I wish to look in detail at the Mercury – Pluto combination, which in keeping with allapplications of Pluto evinces a range of difficult effects, most especially because until the behaviour is recognised and reconciled it creates a compulsion, which will be especially uncomfortable for the subject. Inevitably this difficulty and discomfort will affect important relationships too and ultimately – as with any Plutonic contact – the aspect must be transformed to prevent it becoming ultimately destructive. Aspects to Pluto from any of the personal planets are profoundly problematical, but as ever, the first and most effective step on the path to cure must be to recognise the behaviours and take responsibility for them. Owning up to our Plutonic compulsions, shining light upon them – uncomfortable though it may be – is often powerfully effective in transforming them: indeed, in many cases an “instant cure” is entirely possible.

Mercury Pluto, in keeping with other applications of Lord Hades deals with hidden, sinister and subtle aspects of communication and of course the mental processes that underpin them. Indeed, the entire arena of interpersonal communications is fraught for Mercury – Pluto, usually because of an early childhood that is characterised by difficulty, cruelty or power-games in communication matters. We shall explore these causal themes in the ensuing discussion, but first I would like to examine some of the specific effects.

Mercury Pluto is the aspectual manifestation of Mercury in Scorpio, which is renowned for being either verbose or rather monosyllabic. This implies nothing about the underlying mindset or facility for language or mental processing, but only the willingness or unwillingness to reveal the self. This is reflected perfectly by the aspects between Mercury and Pluto, most especially with the conjunction and to a lesser extent the easy aspects there is a loquacious response to the contact: these people talk, often exhaustively although without necessarily revealing much of substance about themselves. Conversely, those with hard aspects are not likely to give too much away, or at the very least – while they may talk freely – they are never comfortable talking about themselves in a way that is particularly incisive or revealing. In either case it boils down to a profound fear of communication and a sense that somehow words can cause pain and lasting damage. With the easy aspects there is not the same urgent sense of danger, but nevertheless there is a need to control the conversation which is engendered by the same mindset as the individual with the hard aspects. Often the Pluto conjunct Mercury person will talk exhaustively and exhaustingly, and the ‘listener’ will often walk away feeling tired and somewhat overwhelmed by the experience. In any case, the process of communicating, with easy aspects or hard, is uncomfortable for both parties involved in the dialogue.

It should be remembered that any aspect between Mercury and Pluto will evince one or other of these effects. For my own part I am extremely familiar with Mercury – Pluto as I have Mercury in Scorpio, peregrine and semi-square, contraparallel and in mutual reception with Pluto, I can speak from experience as to its effects.

With the hard aspects especially, the sense of difficulty with communication creates an observer rather than a participator. Here is somebody who is aware of every subtle nuance of communication and is typically deeply distrustful of words. Usually it will be found that Mercury – Pluto grew up in an environment where truth was taboo, and one or both parents will have been the murky wellspring from which this skewed sense of things was first experienced. It is also possible that an older brother or sister was the cause of the problem or some difficult secret in connection with that sibling or one that haunted and tainted the family environment in some way might be found to be in evidence. On a fairly simplistic level, the Mercury Pluto child will have learned early on that words were not to be trusted at face value. The resentful and controlling mother who would tell her child: “of course I love you darling, more than anything in the world” while evincing no genuine or believable warmth is one good example of this effect. There is then a dichotomy here, between words and more subtle forms of non-verbal communication that have poisoned the child’s perceptions. Body language, ever a reliable indicator of true feelings, is therefore valued much more highly than any simple verbal statement, but this again is fraught with difficulty. The Mercury – Pluto person is formed in such away that they are innately suspicious of any communication: this is very often sensed by others, who feel that they are “on the spot” somehow, and their body language will betray their discomfort which will in turn set off the ultra-sensitive radar of Mercury – Pluto. This can create a cycle of suspicion, distrust and interrogation that is especially exhausting within close relationships later in life.

Therefore, the Mercury – Pluto type is often handicapped in life by being too perceptive and it is through this mechanism of not being able to take things at face value and exhausting oneself and others by continually investigating the most subtle of interactions that the damage is done.

The child learned to do things this way because of the unreliability of close family communications. Language may have been used to damaging effect by a parent or sibling, secrets were kept and wielded almost politically within the early home environment and this actually characterises very neatly the quality of this combination for the afflicted. Words cannot ever mean what they say, there is usually a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive, a secret being kept: indeed this is exactly the case in the childhood home, but the problem is that the child grows up and takes this same understanding out into the world and applies it indiscriminately to every relationship in the whole of life from then on.

But there is a more profound realisation here too. It is not actually so much what is said that concerns Mercury – Pluto, but indeed what is  not said. This creates an anxiety about communication that is really very disturbing: this is why the native talks so much (in the conjunction or easy aspect), not because they have anything much to say, but because they are terrified of the silence and what it might mean. The child will no doubt have been controlled with lack of communication as much as the use of ugly, brutal or cruel language. A parent or sibling may have ostracised or ignored the child as a means of creating an emotional anxiety, or made vague, open-ended threats which would have created a sense of foreboding and impending anguish all with the express purpose of eliciting control.

There is too a legacy of damaging secrets in the early home which would have reinforced this sense of anguish, very often there are half-brothers or sisters who are kept secret or in some other way separate from the rest of the family. There may also have been other secrets relating to siblings which, when revealed created anxiety in the native: I have seen cases where a more favoured sibling is secretly given money or some other treat or benefit by a parent unbeknown to the Mercury Pluto child and when this is learned the assurances by the parent that they love their children equally become hollow and suspect.

At its best, and transformed, Mercury Pluto makes an excellent researcher and psychologist. Able to delve into the deeper and more innate realities of interaction they can often see cause where others cannot; they see the subtle motivations that are in fact pre-cognitive, and in a very real sense they do not need the words to arrive at an understanding. In fact, the Mercury – Pluto person can often be frustrated at the depth of their understanding because words are ultimately a rather blunt instrument when trying to convey the profundity of their insight and this creates another signature of the contact of course: Mercury Pluto despises the superficial and capricious. Intense and insightful, but with a need to avoid obsessing, Mercury Pluto is a natural researcher and student of human nature and motivation, they make excellent counsellors and – once the aspect is transformed – powerful and persuasive communicators who are able to see into the heart of any matter.

[dreamkidddream]

I’m the Doll!MC Anon and I just wanna say I’m so glad that you enjoy a soft/delicate!MC and I really didn’t expect it to get so much love!

Since I kinda want to be evil and see the boys be overprotective, can I request hc’s of them seeing Doll!MC getting hurt by some lesser demon that bumps her into the ground and she gets a bruise? 🌚

Omg Doll Anon I wasn’t expecting it to get so much love either (here’s the original Doll!MC HCs if anyone wants to read)!! So I actually had your request saved for when I was done with the prompt special bc it’s so good, so I decided to combine them and I have definitely been waiting to write this 😈😈 Reader is gender neutral!

CW: mention of blood (nothing graphic) and spoilers for Lesson 16 (Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, and Belphie’s part)

The Brothers and Diavolo with Doll!MC who Gets Hurt

Lucifer

Okay whoever is dumb enough to hurt you in front of him deserves this 100%

The air around this man is already more than intimidating, so whoever tries this is a poor, stupid soul

When he saw you fall down the stairs, he felt his stomach turn. He already caught you before you could injure yourself further, but after seeing the blood coming down your face, the damage was already done

Now, Lucifer is the brother who always has control over himself and what he does. But, we also know that how his temper can get, especially when it comes to his family

This demon is dumb enough to push you but not dumb enough to crack a smile in front of him, especially with how tense Lucifer is getting right now

He sat you up and tried to remember some first aid techniques to stop the bleeding. You’re on the verge of losing consciousness, but you’re okay right now. He’ll take you home, but first-

His glare is making the demon freeze in place right now, and the anger radiating off of him is petrifying

How dare- how dare this fool harm you, in front of him no less?! Did they think that he wouldn’t do anything? That Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, one of the strongest demons to ever grace the Devildom, would just idly stand by and let this happen?

He’s stalking towards them, and he can feel his fangs showing and his diamond appearing on his forehead, growling out how they will pay for this-

But he’s stopped by Lord Diavolo, who was shocked by the scene. You’re unconscious, and Lucifer has this poor student hanging in the air by their uniform, claws ready to slice through them. Needless to say, he understands why his close friend is upset, but for everyone’s safety he should just take you home like planned

You thought Lucifer was a helicopter parent before? You haven’t seen NOTHING yet

He would start inviting you more to his room to sleep in his bed while he works away, and it started happening so much that he didn’t even ask anymore and started expecting you to always be in there

So instead of him being glued by your side, you’re glued to his. It’s obvious that he can’t let you out of his sight without something happening (again), so hope you’re ready to see experience Lucifer’s daily routine from sunrise to sunset and a whole new set of rules. Basically playing follow the leader, but with a lot more handholding and kisses

You had to practically beg to be back into the kitchen, and he only relented when he could be the one to supervise you, and even then he still didn’t want to hold anything sharp or be near anything that could injure you (which is pretty much everything)

The main one to put a stop to his brothers’ schemes, handing out harsher punishments than before each time they try to involve you. This man is not playing any games with anyone

You know he means well, he was already overprotective from the start, and this is just his way of showing that he cares about you. You can tell every time he gives you that soft look in his eyes, and the regret that he shows every time he catches sight of your bruise. He may not like to be vulnerable, but he couldn’t hide his emotions from you too long. You’re like a weakness to him, one that he isn’t against indulging in

And he hasn’t forgotten about that student, oh no. He made sure to have a nice lengthy chat with them when you both returned to RAD. You didn’t question it when he informed you that the student had been rightfully punished and no longer an issue, and you tried to ignore the red dots splattered on his shoes, or that sadistic gleam in his eyes...

Mammon

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening-

The blood is pouring from your head, and your eyes are closing too fast for him, and his heart stops

You look lifeless, like when Belphie killed you, when he was too late to save you-

He’ll never forget that image, it’s drilled deep into his mind, forever a reminder of his failure to protect you. And now he failed again-

This demon is gloating about this, and that’s when he snaps

He was already in his demon form and beating the life out of them when he was restrained. Many people were shocked that he was capable of this, that Mammon the scumbag, Mammon the dummy, Mammon the punching bag was capable enough to be this dangerous, this deadly. He’s the second born after all, and he’s the strongest right under Lucifer himself, and he holds a lot in

He could- he would do a lot more because they deserve it, but just seeing you so still, it snaps him out of it. You’re more important to him than getting his anger out, and you’re the one he needs to be focusing on right now. But rest asssured, this isn’t over

You thought he was attached to you before? He is glued to your side 24/7 and will not be leaving anytime soon. Ever since you woke up he never let go of you, calling you “his human” and just hugging you tight

Also if you have to go down the stairs you guys are FLYING no exceptions! The stairs are the devil in his eyes (how ironic) and he will not be risking anything with you

If you guys aren’t out and about under his careful and watchful eye (and I mean very careful, he’s like your very own bodyguard but with a lot more growling and snapping on strangers than usual), then you’re in his room doing whatever. Watching movies, playing cards and somehow beating him every time (he swears that he isn’t letting you win! Lies), whatever you wanna do. As long as you’re with him, giggling and safe, he’s happy and stress free

You mean so much to Mammon MC, he can’t even tell you if he tries. Under his tsundere traits, he really loves you, like really loves you! He’s just so scared of being rejected and losing you a second time. But now that he knows you’ll always be there for him, he’s going to do the same for you (but he already was even if you didn’t like him) He hates looking at that bruise right now, but it’s set as a reminder to not let something happen to you again

Also, another thing that people forget about Mammon is that he can talk to crows. So it wasn’t much to have them track down the person who caused you pain, and it didn’t take long for him to find them either. He thinks that the aftermath will set a good lesson for everyone else who continues to underestimate him when it comes to you: don’t

Leviathan

See, this is why he never leaves his safe haven AKA his room!

After he saw your head hit the ground hard, he was freaking out. He doesn’t know what to do, he wasn’t prepared for this! He tried shaking you to keep you awake, but your eyes were steady closing

Everything is happening in slow motion. You’re slumped over on the ground while the person who did it is laughing at him

If anything, the person who did it should be the one on the ground, not you, not his Henry. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair!

The demon stopped laughing when their windpipe was getting crushed by the second. They couldn’t even try to loosen the grip, Levi’s tail is rather strong, and so is he. He is the third strongest out of his family and the Grand Admiral of the Navy, yet people tend to forget that

Everyone knows how bad Levi’s tantrums can be, but this isn’t just a tantrum, it’s much worse. Had the brothers not intervene, he would have done much worse than summoning Lotan (which he was on the brink of doing anyway)

When you did wake up, he was so upset. Of course he let this happen, he’s just a worthless otaku who couldn’t even keep his crush safe-

OMG why are you hugging him and patting his head?! Quit it- well wait, this does feel kinda nice...Ugh you’re such a normie! Getting hurt so easily and still trying to put a smile on his face. But it does make him feel better

He rarely left his room before, and you guys are definitely not leaving it now. It’s like having a sleepover, but it never ends. That sounds great, right MC? Endless marathons of TSL and other anime, co-op video games, trying on his cosplay outfits that he made (some even made just for you and he needs to cover that bruise somehow), it’s going to be so fun and you’ll be safe with him! Who wouldn’t want that??

We all know that Levi is very self conscious. He knows that he isn’t confident like Lucifer and Mammon, or attractive like Asmo, or smart like Satan or Belphie, or physically fit like Beel, he knows. But every time you listen to him ramble on about this new anime show that he wants you guys to binge, or when he rants about a stupid move his teammate did in an online match, he feels valued. He feels loved. And while it’s hard for him to express his feelings, it’s no doubt in his mind that you’re important to him, and that he’s beyond happy that someone like you is his best friend

One day he’ll get the courage to say those three words, but he hopes that you already know with everything that he does for you

For example, Levi is an aquatic demon, and he has the ability to communicate with all types of sea creatures. Granted, he knows right from wrong, but in his eyes he’s taking care of the problem. So it wouldn’t be a huge issue if he used them to clean up the remaining mess of said problem, right? I mean, his venom can only do so much, and he doesn’t need anyone questioning him, and Lotan does get hungry...

Satan

He could only see red. Both from his anger surfacing and from the fact that you’re bleeding

He had his claws wrapped around the neck of the one responsible before they could even think about running. This- this filth dared tried to escape after he hurt you? And they thought that Satan would just let them get away with it?

They must forget that he’s the Avatar of Wrath, the one who doesn’t show mercy

He just kept pounding the demon into the ground, over and over and over and over. He didn’t even care about the blood splatter it was leaving on the lockers or on him

He was this close to finishing them off when he heard you call out for him, and it took everything in him to drop them. He squeezed their neck a final time, not even close to being satisfied with the whimper he heard, and growled out a promise of that he will find them and will make sure that they suffer before he threw them down. They better count themselves lucky that they get to crawl away in one piece (for now), because had you not been there-

Oh, he is seething the more he thinks about it

But you bleeding is a distraction from it, even if it is making his stomach turn, it’s helping him know that he needs to help you now

He didn’t have to let his brothers know as they came to see what the commotion was, and Lucifer (even if he didn’t want to believe it himself) was anxious that he was the cause of it. But after he saw the hold he had on you and another demon barely clinging onto life, he knew otherwise

It was decided that you two going home would be the best course of action (which it didn’t matter to Satan, you both weren’t going to stay here whether it was demanded or not), and he calmed down enough to properly treat you

You didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day, and he even gave up his bed for you to lie in so that he can do some research. The human body is a complicated thing, but Satan can learn it like the back of his hand just for you. So just go ahead and rest for now MC- or maybe not, you might have a concussion according to this book and if you do he needs to monitor your condition!

Even after you were healed, he didn’t let you out of his sight and daily checkups were a must. Dr. Satan is in the building!

You eventually moved back into your room (you would have stayed longer but he’s a little nervous with his towering stacks of books and doesn’t want anymore accidents), but he practically moved in with you with how much he comes over, either falling asleep at your desk reading a book or falling asleep in your chair right next to your bed

Very reluctant to have you around stairs, it makes the hairs on his neck stand up. He’ll let you go down the stairs ONLY if you’re holding his hand. If you’re upset with those conditions (spoiler alert you’re not), then you better be ready to learn some teleportation spells (but even then he’s still not leaving your side)

He doesn’t hold his temper back with the others when it comes to you for the time being. If he even senses that Mammon, Asmo, or Levi is coming to you with something that can cause trouble, he’s growling at them to leave you alone, horns slowly coming out and tail whipping furiously

However, he tries not to lash out in front of you. He realizes that he lost control with that demon, and how it could have terrified you had you been fully conscious, but he doesn’t want you to think that he’s just a monster. He wants you to continue to treat him like you do now, and not have the image of bashing someone’s bloody body on the floor repeatedly

Speaking of bashing someone, Satan made well on his promise of coming back. The demon thought that avoiding coming back to school would save them, but Satan is a genius, and has many associates that he can sweet talk to get what he wants. It didn’t take much to figure out where they went, and he made sure to get out all of his pent-up frustrations from that fateful day. He felt better when he came home, but he needed to take a shower before he went to see you...

Besides from that, he does appreciate the peace that you do bring him. You just have this aura around you that’s so calming to him, and he needs to steal you away more he realizes

Also you make better cat-themed desserts than the cafe and he can’t risk Beel eating them all again

Asmodeus

He’s shook, and not in the good way

He just had your hand in his, complaining about how you cuticles look so good and his is lacking and how guys have to go to the nail salon after class, and then your hand is jerked from his, your form at the bottom of the stairs

The blood staining your uniform is alarming, but he can’t worry about that now. He’s trying to keep you talking, but you’re already on the verge of passing out

“MC, you can’t sleep yet! We have plans to go to the nail salon remember? And I need you awake so we can talk about what matching color we’re getting! So what color should we get now, MC? MC? MC!”

He’s trying to keep himself from panicking, but he can’t help it! You’re suppose to be smiling and laughing with you, loving him, but you’re unconscious on the ground, and he’s scared

Quickly dials Lucifer and tells him the whole situation, and he’s surprised to find himself blinking back tears

The demon who did this is long gone by the time Lucifer and Diavolo come, but he remembers the face, and he has something exciting planned when he comes face to face with them

Obviously you have to go home, but Asmo is so distraught that he has to go home with you. But when you wake up, prepare to be tackled to the bed with him crying his eyes out. All you can do is try to comfort him and tell him that okay, giving him little kisses on his cheek

But now that the sadness is out of the way (all this crying and worrying is causing him stress wrinkles), it’s time for a makeover/stress relief!

Fashion shows, makeovers, painting nails, face masks, the whole nine yards. All in the comfort of his dazzling room!

It’ll make you both feel and look better, and honestly you two need that right now. It also gives him the opportunity to cover that unappealing bruise. Your beauty outshines it but it’ll be best to cover it up for your and his sake (mainly his)

Every time Asmo sees your bruise, he gets upset and he’s tired of being reminded of what happened. He knows that he’s only loved for his looks, his vanity, but you see more in him than that

You’re...you’re the first person that loves him for him entirely, not because of his features. And when he tells you that he loves you, he honestly means it. He would have never thought he would fall so deep for someone, let alone a human, but...he’s glad that it’s you. He’s happy that it’s you

Which is why he wants to keep you safe and injury-free. Plus, your skin is too pretty and doll-like to be roughed up!

You guys still go out of course, he just has a better eye on you now. This one incident isn’t going to hold him back for picking out new cute outfits for you!

And don’t think he forgot about that demon who caused all of this in the first place. He actually waited by their locker, and convinced them to come with him. But what should Asmo do with them? He could always have them steal Beel’s food, annoy Lucifer, say something horrible about Ruri-Chan, the possibilities are endless! As long as they don’t cause him to get dirty, of course

Or maybe they should do something so severe that they have no reason than to leave RAD forever, or even leave the Devildom forever, depending on how far he’s willing to take it. He’ll do anything if it means you’re safe and he gets to keep you all to himself

Beelzebub

He thought it was an accident at first, you get so excited about things that you stumble over your own feet sometimes, but he’s always there to catch you or pick you up

You keep saying that you’re okay as he’s holding onto you, and after he sits you up he’s confused because he smells blood. His heart is beating a little quicker, and you’re not talking anymore, and your head is drooping, and that’s when he sees the blood running down the side of your face

He’s starting to panic, and he’s so scared that if he tightens his hold against you he’ll just make things worse, that he’ll just hurt you more. But he needs to go find Lucifer, he needs to get you help, you’re feeling so light in his arms and it reminds him of the Celestial War when he witnessed his sister dying-

He hears someone snickering behind him, and that’s when he loses his temper

You’re a part of his family now, someone that he loves and cares for more than he can describe, and they did this to you? Someone who wouldn’t even squish a bug, someone who made him late night snacks without even asking, always there to give him hugs after his games no matter how sweaty, someone that put his family back together and they did this to you?

Lucifer and Mammon struggled to hold him back after they found the demon flung through the wall, laying under the rubble. Beel just kept growling, fangs bared and wings buzzing. He won’t stop trying to get out of their hold, and he keeps inching closer and closer to the demon, and it’s only a matter of time before he finishes what he started

You were already in the infirmary getting treated, and Beel isn’t calming down anytime soon so you were both escorted home

You woke up to Beel upset and pouting. He’s so worried about you that he couldn’t even eat. Beelzebub could not eat, that’s how you knew this was a something serious

Poor Beel was so terrified of hurting you himself that he failed to protect you from the people that do want to hurt you, or worse

But this won’t happen again, he swears, both to you and himself. Move over Mammon, Beel is officially your new bodyguard!

Wherever you go, Beel is right behind you, literally. He’s like your shadow, just bigger and a lot more...menacing. Also isn’t taking any chances with Mammon’s schemes, just carrying you away before he can even open his mouth about another get rich quick plan

Speaking of carrying, you are not allowed to walk down the stairs anymore. As soon as you step near some you find yourself in his arms like it’s nothing. Both at home and at school, it doesn’t matter to him

Also he’s very cautious to have you around people besides his brothers, and the exchange students (but he’s still hesitant about Solomon, anyone who can cook food like him is automatically getting the side eye)

Also you practically moved in with the twins, and it’s nothing compared to the sleepovers before. Belphie sleeps easier, Beel’s stomach is satisfied (eating your homemade sweets with you is better than everything combined at Hell’s Kitchen, and trust me he knows) he feels all warm inside, and you’re protected. Everyone’s happy!

Beel is a sweet guy, just don’t come in between his family or his food. After that whole incident with the demon, everyone has come to understand that, especially after seeing just how much damage he caused both to the demon and the school in so little time...

Belphegor

If he was sleepy before, he’s completely awake now

You’re holding the side of your head, and he can see the blood seeping through your fingers, groaning in pain. You keep trying to say that you’re okay, but your words are starting to slur and he’s getting nervous, he’s getting scared

It’s reminding him too much of his worst mistake, of what he did to you, when he murdered-

No. He doesn’t need to be thinking about that right now, especially when the person who did this is bragging about it while your body is slumped over. Right there, he knows what exactly needs to be done

Belphie was already in front of them before they even registered it, and didn’t give him any time to form an excuse. His claws were already at their throat, inching deeper and deeper the more they swallowed

“I should just slit your throat now, it’ll be easy and not a lot of work. But you deserve much worse than that. You’ll wish I did by the end of this.”

After a tap to the demon’s forehead, they just collapsed before him, unmoving. He didn’t even look down when he stepped over them (or rather stepped on them) to get to you. You’re passed out, but still breathing. You can’t stay here like this, and he refuses to tell Diavolo or Lucifer. He’ll figure something out, maybe Satan has some books in his room on what to do...

When you woke up, you found yourself wrapped in blankets and Belphie sleeping beside you, arms wrapped tight. You were confused, when did you get home? You remember walking with him down the stairs, but everything was blurry after that. What happen-

“You’re always thinking so hard MC, you’ll never be able to get good rest if you keep that up. But Satan did say to check on you every couple of hours, so I guess it’s fine. And quit touching your head!”

“Oh, sorry Belphie, I didn’t mean to-”

“Tch, how annoying...”

But he’s lying. Even as he’s carefully re-wrapping the bandages, he’s relieved that you’re awake, that your eyes are still full of life, not like the dullness that he saw that fateful night

When Lucifer finds you he is not happy with Belphie, but he doesn’t care and tells him that everything is already under control and that he isn’t needed. Belphie didn’t miss the scowl that he sent his way, but he just smirked in response. You didn’t need Lucifer as Belphie is already taking care of you, as it should be

You know how he always carries around his favorite pillow? Yeah he’s doing that with you basically, minus the carrying. You’re practically attached to his side, wherever he goes you’re either right there with him or in his room, which is mainly just you two lazing around or sleeping (as usual)

Honestly, the only demons who he’s okay with disturbing you two is Beel and maybe Satan. Beel because that’s his twin and it’s his room too, and Satan only if he’s checking on you medically or if he has some new ideas to mess with Lucifer. Everyone else is just trying to bother you and be annoying, and you don’t need that

Of course he blames himself for this! How is he suppose to keep you safe, to make up for his mistake? But then it clicks

It’s not the fact that he’s weak, people think that he’s weak. But he realizes that this is fine, he’ll use that to his advantage.

Diavolo is upset and Lucifer is running out of excuses for him, but Belphie just plays stupid and says he can’t remember how to remove it (even though he does). Let the demon lose some more sleep until they learn their lesson, whether it’s from the constant nightmares or from sleep deprivation trying to stay awake to avoid said nightmares. He’ll remove it when he feels like it, and he doesn’t see that happening anytime soon

Let people think the Avatar of Sloth is weak, that he’s not a threat, and he can show them exactly how wrong they are. Better yet, this demon can be the perfect example, and many more if they become a bother to you (and him)

You’re too nice MC, too delicate. You treat him so good, like he’s not a demon, like he’s not the monster who took your life, and he has to thank you for that somehow. He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough for the kindness you give him, but protecting you from others who used to be like him could be a good start

Also now he can hog all of your head pats and cuddles for himself, and he doesn’t feel bad at all. Everyone else had their time with you when he was locked up, so he’s finally got the opportunity to be selfish

Diavolo

First of all...this demon is dumb enough to harm you in front of him??? The Demon LORD???? The FUTURE KING OF HELL??!

They have more than just a death wish

It all happened so quick, he just crossed paths with you in the hallways and started to ask about your day (and maybe invite you for a small tea date after school) but he didn’t even get the chance to open his mouth

One second he saw your eyes light up and hand extended to excitedly wave, then he saw your fragile form tumbling down the stairs

Barbatos was soon called to his side as Diavolo saw the red coating his palms and you barely staying conscious, trying to say that you’re okay and not to worry

See...he feared that this would be a problem. While Diavolo is a very kind and understanding ruler, there are still some demons out there who think he’s too lenient, too soft. But that’s where people are mistaken. Diavolo is kind, but do not mistake his kindness for weakness

He felt his anger rising, his demeanor starting to crack, but he set aside his emotions. You’re his first priority, and he needs to make sure that you’re okay! He’s still a ruler, and you’re his responsibility (and first love)

However, he made sure that Barbatos took the demon who did this and kept them in the dungeon until he was done treating you. He won’t let this go unpunished, he can’t and he won’t

You’re an important part of the exchange program, and you’re most important to him, and he’s upset with himself that you got hurt. You’re so delicate, and you don’t deserve any of this happening to you, but what can he do? While he trusts the brothers to keep you safe, he wants to keep an eye on you personally, but how?

Then it struck him

You liked to stay in the castle, always smiling and having fun whenever you spent time with him there, so why not relocate you there?? It’ll be like an extended sleepover/retreat with just you two!! You guys can do all of your favorite activities and won’t have to worry about going home because you won’t have to leave!! Why didn’t he think of this sooner?!

The brothers are very upset with this incident, and even more so when he announced this. Diavolo decided that your condition needed to be monitored closely, and since he’s the person directly in charge of the exchange program AND the ruler over the Devildom, there was no room to argue. You weren’t going to stay in the castle forever, just until he deemed it right to return to the HoL

Which would be...some time soon, maybe. He’s not really worried about that now, his number 1 concern is you after all!

You’re getting the royal treatment, literally. This is the chance that he gets to pamper you without interruptions and he is not wasting it!

You kept trying to convince him that you’re fine, but he wasn’t hearing any of it, especially after he sees the nasty bruise that was left. “MC, please! You still need to rest. How about I have Barbatos bring us some tea to help, and we can even have the royal staff bring us some outfits of your choosing if you like? Oo, we can even have our portrait painted!”

“Dia, I promise that I’m fine, you have more things to worry about than me-”

“Nonsense, MC. You’re what’s important to me, now and always. Don’t ever forget that.”

Even finished it with a hand kiss, UGH he really is a Prince Charming

Once you did return to RAD bruise free, Diavolo, being the gentleman that he is, walked with you everywhere in the beginning. Coming into the building, walking to class, lunch, even to the student council meeting, he was by your side. But he couldn’t avoid his duties forever (unfortunately), but he always made up for lost time afterwards

You never realized that when he wasn’t with you, someone else always was. Whether it be Lucifer who miraculously had spare time, or Barbatos who decided to escort you back to the castle to try a new recipe for his Lord, it was always one of them that stayed with you

Also, it never dawned on you why people were starting to be so nice to you. You thought it was because of what happened, not paying attention to how tense they would get, the fear in their eyes. You did notice that the demon who caused your fall never came back to class, and their desk is starting to collect dust...

When you did ask Diavolo about it, he just pat your head and said that what happened was unacceptable and that the demon has been dealt with accordingly.

You don’t need to hear about what really happened to them, he doesn’t want to scare you or taint your innocence! But he doesn’t mind if anyone else hears it, he’ll be more than happy to explain in full detail what happened and what will happen to demons that even think about attempting to harm you or think that he’s “too soft”. They won’t think he’s a soft ruler after that

Diavolo is a very sweet man, one that treats you as if you’re ruling by his side as his partner and one that you never have to be scared of, but even you didn’t miss the deadly glint in his eyes whenever he spoke about that demon...

But enough about that, he wants to try that new recipe that you made just for him!

He enjoys the time that he gets to spend with you, and after this, you’ll be in his company a lot more. He can’t risk having this happen again to his love- I MEAN favorite exchange student right?

[momentspassd]

It's quite easy to discern that he'd thrown Theo off with his preparation, giving off the impression that he'd put much more thought into this impromptu gathering. Samuel hadn't expected things to go this when the communication began, though it'd been a pleasant surprise, but he'd begun to prepare when the texts started navigating in this direction.

More than anything the writer had desired an opportunity to sit and talk about everything with his ex. To explain to her his reasonings for leaving and staying gone. Even if there was no forgiveness for his silence or his actions, the man was desperate for the lawyer to understand that it truly had nothing to do with her.

None of this was her fault.

What she'd received out of his actions wasn't deserved.

That was the important message to convey. Along with the simple fact that he still loved her all the same. The New Yorker knew that was incredibly difficult to understand given that the thoughts, feelings, and actions didn't all line up perfectly nor did they match.

Life was never that easy. Never that simple.

"Yeah," he answered among his movements in her kitchen, "I started prepping during our texts. It's why some responses took longer than others." A small laugh followed and adoring umber eyes found Theo standing near, appearing hesitant and as though she might flee at any moment.

"I wanted to," Sam began to explain, "no takeout really hits the same outside of New York so I've turned to cooking even more than before." The writer had always enjoyed the whole process of making something from scratch with his bare hands. It felt more whole, more enriching, more personal. There was also the unspoken part that him cooking even more had to do with a boy named Ben.

Nostalgia hit the author hard. Seeing her standing by, ready for conversation as she watched him move about what had once been a shared kitchen in a dwelling that had been their own as a couple. He tried his best to ignore the pit in his stomach, to not let the moment grip hold of him too strongly. If he'd learned anything it was that living in the past was dangerous and would lead to disappointment.

"You have any beer?" Brow lifted, it had only been then that he'd wished he'd brought a pack or stopped along the way. Wine had never really been his go-to but he'd drink it in a pinch. "Or we can jump to the whiskey and start softening things up," he'd suggested feeling it could help ease some anxieties.

With the pizza finally in the oven, Sam rested the heels of his palms against the edge of the countertop and leaned into it. Gaze fixed on Theo's he'd give a penny for her real thoughts and what was going on behind those beautiful eyes he'd often sank into for comfort.

How was he supposed to get through this?

A front row seat to further hurting the person you loved most felt like hell.

"You shouldn't cry, but I'm sorry ahead of time if anything I tell you hurts you that much." For a second he only peered down at his ex and wondered if she knew that he'd never intended to hurt her. That the entirety of the last few years felt like some sort of out of body experience for him.

"Do you want something in your stomach first or do you want me to just— start?"

Which Sam had no idea how to do that or where that point was. He'd find it, of course, but he already had a feeling of trudging through thick, knee deep mud.

"You have a beautiful home, by the way."

No matter how much it was all his fault that things were the way they were now, it didn't take away from the pain of seeing how well someone moved on from you.

Regardless, Sam was proud of her.

It takes her a second to really understand what’s happening: Sam is talking about the food needing time to cook, and by the time she’s closing the front door, he’s shown her the raw pizza in his hands and turned the oven on. She’s still standing by the front door, a little perplexed by how quickly it’s all happened, the raw reaction to the sequence of events a belated intruder to the left of her chest. He cooked for her — something he’d done so often when they were together, and even before they were together. He’d made her pizza because she’d mentioned in passing she was craving the shitty pizza they used to buy together after a drunken night out on the town, and now he’s made himself almost at home, beelining straight for a kitchen he’s never stepped foot inside of and turned on the oven like he’s done it a hundred times before.

Taking a deep breath, Theo can do little else but clear her throat. There’s a part of her that wants to reprimand him for this — tell him he has no right to just waltz into her house like he’s a part of it, like the place would welcome his silhouette like a familiar shape — but there’s an even bigger part of her that’s afraid if she opens her mouth right now, an unbidden I love you will make its way past her lips, and there’s no coming back from that, is there?

She makes her way toward the kitchen, stopping in front of him to take a closer look at the pizza he’s brought. It’s raw, of course, looking far more impressive than the crappy one-topping they used to take to-go back in New York. She meets his gaze, feeling the furrow of her brows deepen. “Did you make this from scratch?” she asks. “You didn’t—” She bites her lip to keep from finishing the sentence. Mostly because she doesn’t know where the sentence is going, really. You didn’t have to? You didn’t tell me you would? You didn’t mean to make me feel this way, did you?

“Thank you,” she decides to say, because it’s the most reasonable reaction, and perhaps the most neutral, as well. She even offers him a smile, despite how far up her throat her heart is at the moment. For a minute or two, she can’t break her gaze from his — it’s so familiar, in a way that might very well eat her up from the inside if she’s not careful — until she finally swallows and moves past him, toward the cupboard. “Do you want some wine?” she asks. “Or — something stronger,” she offers, eyeing the glasses available to her. Her fingers feel heavy on her hands, the pounding of her heart frantic against her wrist. 

She glances over at Samuel. “What are you thinking will get me through this without crying?” She asks him, and for the first time in a minute, there’s a hint of teasing in her tone. A joke, offered without expectations or conditions. Offered to him not in a moment of weakness, but rather a moment of clarity — he’s in her house, and they’re going to talk, and every single nerve in her body is standing on end in his presence. 

Whatever else may be true, all Theo knows is that she doesn’t think holding onto her anger will do either of them any good, if they’re going to make this a productive conversation. And maybe the familiarity of the scene has a little to do with it, too — cohabiting a kitchen, discussing drink options, both of them in casual attire. It’s like it’s ripped out of a memory from four years ago, surreptitiously lacing the atmosphere here now.