#we want to lose to prove ourselves

[queen-of-weird-girlboy-nation]

Job. Oh Job. I’m sorry

[hexastitchimera]

I think I understand now why I'm honest to Stars nervous every time I interact with online communities like the animation meme one, the furry one, etc.

It's for the exact reason why I'm terrified of talking to former classmates who entered nursing school.

A huge majority of the vocal minority never left behind their grade school bully mentality. I'm not kidding, throwing insults, or even calling anyone childish. This is as big of a problem as it is in nursing, and it takes lives in the exact same way. I'll explain.

Having had family who were in the medical field, I have heard utter horror stories about one side of nursing. Not even in a medical malpractice sense. But how some of them can have the sweetest, "empath" mask on when they are around you, but will smear your name behind your back at the very least, try to get you disciplined/fired (especially if you're a "rival" nurse/student) at unfortunately common worst.

Now, because I am a firm believer in nuance, I have to state that for as many malpracticing nurses there are, there are just as many nurses who put their patients before their ego always. I myself have had several nurse family members who didn't have even the slightest infraction to their records, and retired late despite how their patients AND fellow MPs yearned for them to stay.

But, it has to be said: It only takes one to kill. One word, one intentional slip-up, one accidental pill too many. The side of the accuser only need speak, while the side of the victim has to frantically fight for their right to the role- to the life- they worked so hard for.

Why? Well, because it's easier to destroy the perceived enemy than it is to build your own self up. Destroying the competition has been a tale as old as time, and it can ALWAYS be for the pettiest of reasons.

If you want more of your supervisor's attention for better odds at better pay, intimidate and belittle nurses of your standing or lower so they're demotivated, demoralized, and struggling in comparison.

Hell, if you just don't like another nurse, watch their every move, and rat on the few, harmless, honest mistakes they made!

Who cares how many patients die, either because of a growing lack of nurses, or because of straight up nurse-on-nurse sabotage!

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Do you see how people can put the grandstanding of their own ego above entire LIVES?

The near-homeless artist whose callout you are mindlessly reblogging, what of their life?

The kinky trans woman?

The genderqueer person with neopronouns and "conflicting" labels?

The literal teenager who doesn't- and CANNOT- know better because of their horrifically bigoted family? Not without external guidance, of which they can only have through the online, and are immediately shunned from?

You all want an easy answer.

There are none here.

There never will be.

The only answer is to practice media literacy, to wait until both sides have come out with their sides of the story, and to understand a very rarely spoken of Golden Rule:

If it isn't hurting anyone nor contributing to harm period, mind your own business.

Otherwise, if still hard pressed:

What do YOU get out of ending the life of someone as they know it?

If it's the same sense of satisfaction a cop would get, I don't know what to tell you.

All I know is that you cannot, AND SHOULD NOT, be doing their "job" for them.

And if you do, wipe that ACAB off of your bio.

We do not use the weapons of the oppressor on our own. ESPECIALLY on our youth.

[augustinewrites]

“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.

cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.

“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.

2006

…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.

curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.

when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.

you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.

“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.

you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”

“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”

geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.

“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.

the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”

behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.

“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”

as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.

he’s blushing.

“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”

“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.

gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”

tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.

this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”

you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”

“jar,” megumi says flatly.

he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”

he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.

you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.

but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.

“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.

when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.

the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.

some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.

(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)

but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.

his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.

the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.

the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.

the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.

the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.

“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”

you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.

“hey! those are gucci—”

you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”

blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”

you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.

(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)

[beatrice-otter]

You’re seriously still blaming Trump on “Bernie Bros”? Time for democrats to start taking responsibility for putting up shitty candidates and deflecting blame toward everyone else, for once

Trump was elected by a very narrow margin. And there was a ton of polling and data crunching and statistical modeling going on during and after the election, so we actually know what the factors that tipped the needle Trump's direction are.

One of the biggies is leftists who thought Hilary was insufficiently far left. If every leftist who loved Bernie and disliked Hilary because she wasn't perfect enough had held their nose and voted for Hilary, Trump would have lost. They're not the only demographic that's true of; there are a number of others who, if they had turned out in force, would have turned the tide of the election. For example, if a higher percentage of Black women had voted, Trump would also have lost. You know what the difference is between your average Bernie Bro and your average Black woman? Your average Bernie Bro is white and thus a hell of a lot less likely to have his vote suppressed. He is a hell of a lot more likely to find it easy to vote. This is not me saying this because I don't like them, or because I think Hillary was a perfect candidate. This is me saying that when you look at the actual numbers, leftist ideologues who refused to vote for a candidate who was not their perfect choice was one of the main reasons Trump got four years in the White House.

In general, regardless of the candidates involved, if 55% of American adults vote in a national election, the Republican wins in a landslide. If 60% of American adults vote, the Republican wins by a bare margin. If 65% of American adults vote, the Democrat wins by a bare margin. If 70% of American adults vote, the Democrat wins by a landslide. If 75% of American adults voted--and voted regularly in every election--the Republican party would cease to be a significant force in American politics.

This has been known for decades. Republicans will show up and vote no matter what; a very high percentage of Democrats and left-leaning voters will only show up if the candidate in question is perfectly in line with their views. That's why we have a Congress that is dominated by Republicans despite most of the country not liking them, and that's why we have most of the political problems that they do. By waiting for a political candidate who is good enough, you are directly ceding power to the people who are making the world worse.

Elections are decided by the people who show up. If you do not show up to vote, your vote does not get counted. If politicians want to get re-elected, they have to listen to the people who will vote for them. If they try to listen to the people who don't regularly vote, they are far more likely to lose re-election than if they listen to the people who show up every election. And conservatives show up every election. If liberals and leftists changed our voting habits and voted in every single election--voted for the furthest left candidate in the primary, and whoever got the Democratic nomination in the general election--we would prove ourselves to be a voting bloc worth listening to and the party would move left in response.

You want a candidate who perfectly fits your vision and ideals for what America should be? That doesn't happen in a vacuum. That takes work, and the most basic level of that work is showing up to vote now and every time there's an election to vote in.

[writingwithfolklore]

5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists

Antagonists, whether people, the world, an object, or something else are integral to giving your story stakes and enough conflict to challenge your character enough to change them. Today I’m just going to focus on people antagonists because they are the easiest to do this with!

1. Your antagonist is still a character

While sure, antagonists exist in the story to combat your MC and make their lives and quest difficult, they are still characters in the story—they are still people in the world.

Antagonists lacking in this humanity may land flat or uninteresting, and it’s more likely they’ll fall into trope territory.

You should treat your antagonists like any other character. They should have goals, objectives, flaws, backstories, etc. (check out my character creation stuff here). They may even go through their own character arc, even if that doesn’t necessarily lead them to the ‘good’ side.

Really effective antagonists are human enough for us to see ourselves in them—in another universe, we could even be them.

2. They’re… antagonistic

There’s two types of antagonist. Type A and Type B. Type A antagonist’s have a goal that is opposite the MC’s. Type B’s goal is the same as the MC’s, but their objectives contradict each other.

For example, in Type A, your MC wants to win the contest, your antagonist wants them to lose.

In Type B, your MC wants to win the contest, and your antagonist wants to win the same contest. They can’t both win, so the way they get to their goal goes against each other.

A is where you get your Draco Malfoy’s, other school bullies, or President Snow’s (they don’t necessarily want what the MC does, they just don’t want them to have it.)

B is where you get the other Hunger Games contestants, or any adventure movie where the villain wants the secret treasure that the MCs are also hunting down. They want the same thing.

3. They have well-formed motivations

While we as the writers know that your antagonist was conceptualized to get in the way of the MC, they don’t know that. To them, they exist separate from the MC, and have their own reasons for doing what they do.

In Type A antagonists, whatever the MC wants would be bad for them in some way—so they can’t let them have it. For example, your MC wants to destroy Amazon, Jeff Bezos wants them not to do that. Why not? He wants to continue making money. To him, the MC getting what they want would take away something he has.

Other motivations could be: MC’s success would take away an opportunity they want, lose them power or fame or money or love, it could reveal something harmful about them—harming their reputation. It could even, in some cases, cause them physical harm.

This doesn’t necessarily have to be true, but the antagonist has to believe it’s true. Such as, if MC wins the competition, my wife will leave me for them. Maybe she absolutely wouldn’t, but your antagonist isn’t going to take that chance anyway.

In Type B antagonists, they want the same thing as the MC. In this case, their motivations could be literally anything. They want to win the competition to have enough money to save their family farm, or to prove to their family that they can succeed at something, or to bring them fame so that they won’t die a ‘nobody’.

They have a motivation separate from the MC, but that pesky protagonist keeps getting in their way.

4. They have power over the MC

Antagonists that aren’t able to combat the MC very well aren’t very interesting. Their job is to set the MC back, so they should be able to impact their journey and lives. They need some sort of advantage, privilege, or power over the MC.

President Snow has armies and the force of his system to squash Katniss. She’s able to survive through political tension and her own army of rebels, but he looms an incredibly formidable foe.

Your antagonist may be more wealthy, powerful, influential, intelligent, or skilled. They may have more people on their side. They are superior in some way to the protagonist.

5. And sometimes they win

Leading from the last point, your antagonists need wins. They need to get their way sometimes, which means your protagonist has to lose. You can do a bit of a trade off that allows your protagonist to lose enough to make a formidable foe out of their antagonist, but still allows them some progress using Fortunately, Unfortunately.

It goes like… Fortunately, MC gets accepted into the competition. Unfortunately, the antagonist convinces the rest of the competitors to hate them. Fortunately, they make one friend. Unfortunately, their first entry into the competition gets sabotaged. Fortunately, they make it through the first round anyway, etc. etc.

An antagonist that doesn’t do any antagonizing isn’t very interesting, and is completely pointless in their purpose to heighten stakes and create conflict for your protagonist to overcome. We’ll probably be talking about antagonists more soon!

Anything I missed?

[matthewswifeee]

No Nut November

In which Matt and Chris make a bet to see who can go longer during no nut November, but little does Matt know he would lose pretty quickly. . . .

"No I'm not doing it, its stupid" Matt shouts at Chris. "Because you know you wont win" Chris says taunting him as a way of getting Matt to give in. It works every single time and he knows it. "You know what, fine" Matt says shaking Chris' hand meaning that their $200 bet is now on the line. "You two are idiots" I say shaking my head at the dumb bet they just made with Ayla, Chris' girlfriend, agreeing with me.

Later that night Matt and Nick went out to pick up food for all of us. "I have a proposition for you" Chris says sitting next to me on the sofa in their living area. "Oh god" I respond turning my attention toward him. "I need you to get Matt to lose" he pleads. "And what do I get out of this" I question. "Uhh, I'll give you half the money" he says and I take him up on that offer knowing that he just wants to prove his point that Matt will lose.

After Nick and Matt get back with the food we all eat dinner together before Nick, Chris and Ayla all leave the house to go to some party with Matt and I deciding to stay behind. Me and Matt are sitting in the podcast studio while he's telling me about their new podcast that is coming out tomorrow with their bestfriend Nathan from back home.

"Matt" I say cutting off what he was saying and he stops. "You look so hot right now" I say and he smiles at me. I crawl onto his lap and he places his hands on my hips. "I love you" he says planting a few kisses on my lips. "I love you" I say back as I press my forehead against his. We eventually find ourselves in a heated make out session with my hips grinding against his when all the sudden he stops.

"Baby we can't" Matt says holding my hips in place to stop me. "I don't care about your stupid bet" I say whining at him and I see him bite his lower lip. "Pleeease daddy" I say knowing that will help get him all riled up as I feel him loosen the grip on my waist. He lifts me up putting me on the table as he stands between my legs, smashing his lips back on to mine as he rubs me through my pajama pants. "You better be a good girl and make this worth it" he whispers in my ear.

"Eat my pussy" I beg as he pulls my pants down. "No panties tonight" he says smirking which just makes the heat between my legs grown. He starts off my kissing his way up my thighs until he reaches my core. "I need it now" I whine at him and he starts immediately barring his face in to my dripping core. He grabs my inner thighs and pushes my legs open as I feel the cold air touch my wet pussy. "All this and I didnt even do anything yet" Matt says teasing me as he just looks at me. "Matt please... I need you" I say basically begging him to touch me. My hands find their way to his messy dark brow hair as I get closer and closer to finishing making my legs buckle as he moves his hands to hold my legs open. I moan loudly and pull on his hair hard which just fuels him even more.  I pull on his hair harder and harder. "Good girl" Matt says looking up at me and smiling with my juices literally dripping down his chin. It was unreal how fast this man can make me cum.

"You taste so good sweetheart" Matt says coming up to kiss me making me smile. I then start to suck on his neck leaving dark spots all over. "Fuck I need to be inside of you right now" he grunts as I feel his fingertips digging into the skin on my waist. I help him kick off his pajama pants along with his boxers then we start making out again as I feel him rubbing his tip against my soaking wet pussy.

Matt gently pulls away and his eyes move to the space between us as mine do the same watching him slide into me as we both gasp from the sensational feeling. "Mm fuck" he moans as he continues to thrust in and out of me at a steady pace making me a loud moaning mess as well. "I love watching how good you take my dick baby girl" Matt says with a breathy moan as he rests his sweaty forehead against mine staring into my soul.

I dig my finger nails into his back feeling myself about to release but trying to hold back a little longer for Matt. "I-im go-gonna cum" I moan barely being able to get the words out. "Come on sweet girl, cum for me" Matt moans as he starts to use one of his hands to play with my clit making me finish almost immediately. "Good girl" Matt says before pulling out of me and I quickly get on my knees taking him in my mouth. He thrusts in and out of my mouth at a fast pace and grips my hair pushing himself further down my throat as I feel the warm salty liquid coat my mouth. "Swallow" Matt says tilting my head back and I do as he says. He then helps me to my feet, both out of breath and kisses me before pulling me close to him.

"I love you baby" he says holding me. "I love you more" I say wrapping my arms around him as he lifts me up and wraps my legs around his torso. "I was gonna fuck you tonight anyways" Matt says making my jaw drop a little. "Chris told me to make sure you lost" I say making him laugh and shake his head.

[inafever]

On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:

This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.

So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.

A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)

But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.

In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again

But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.

Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.

I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:

"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"

"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"

"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"

And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together

He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves

In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven

"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."

He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work

We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"

Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.

But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time

I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.

update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)

And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Dark Light Within

part two of Lamp of the Body

Chrollo x female!reader

Part 1

Warnings: trauma, mentions of death, mentions of murder, manipulation. unhealthy relationships, smut, oral (male receiving), choking

Word Count: 12.1k

In the days that followed the compromise you and Chrollo had come to, you found that you were doing well. Over that period, the nightmares stopped and you actually got a few full nights of sleep for the first time in a long while. Finally you had mornings where you woke up feeling completely refreshed and ready for the day, and you had the energy to do more around the apartment as well, happy to no longer be stuck doing one or two tasks you'd set for yourself before you inevitably needed to take a break and recharge.

Admittedly, it was a bit performative as you were trying your hardest to prove that you were okay. That the days of you feeling exhausted from a restless night were over with and had only ever been a temporary problem, one that had solved itself. That Chrollo didn't need to move away from the city for your sake and that the both of you could continue to live here as you had been.

Soon enough, you'd be able to go out again, you were sure of it.

Chrollo obviously noticed your change in mood as he commented on it one evening while you were rinsing off the plate you had used for dinner.

“You seem a bit better recently,” he said.

“I've been feeling better,” you answered.

“That's a relief,” he replied, smiling as he added “maybe I was a bit hasty in my suggestion to move.”

“Maybe,” you repeated, “it's a good thing we held off on that. We saved ourselves from a lot of hassle.”

“So it seems,” he agreed.

You went to bed that night feeling good about yourself.

The fact that the nightmares started up again that very night was ironic. Or it would've been, were it not for the fact that they now felt worse than ever. The new constant was the figure being on top of you, their hands around your throat, squeezing and letting go only to repeat the process over and over again. You always woke up in the middle of the night now, feeling worn out and terrified.

During the times that Chrollo would wake up after you and asked what was wrong, you came up with excuses, mostly claiming that you were feeling restless and joking about how your internal clock was wired wrong since you could no longer get any sleep at night. The look in his eyes told you that he didn't believe you, but he would accept your explanation regardless, even if it seemed to be reluctant.

You just wanted to be okay again.

You were in a good place now; there was no reason for these attacks from your subconscious to continue as they did. They needed to stop so you'd be better, so you could go back to the way things had been before.

Get over it already

But as much as you tried to will yourself into better health, it just wasn't happening. Not on its own. And it was clear that Chrollo could see that. Even without his ability to be as insanely perceptive as he was, no doubt anyone could see that you were tired.

He'd held off on any major discussion of it, but there were comments made here and there that let you know what he thought: that you should stop being so stubborn and putting yourself through unnecessary stress, though you doubted he would ever use such wording. The next time the two of you sat down to actually talk about the issue, you knew you would lose. He had a million reasons as to why his decision was correct and there wouldn't be anything you could do to prove otherwise.

That was what drove you to an impulsive decision.

It came on a day where Chrollo was away running errands; nothing that would last too long, so he had no need to call in any more favors from his friends. And no one else being around you meant that there was no one that would keep you from going out.

It wouldn't be anything major. You were just stepping outside of the building. In your mind, being able to do that without any negative affects would prove that things were okay.

Nothing bad would happen, you told yourself. It was killing two birds with one stone, actually. You would prove that you were doing okay by leaving the apartment while also getting a much needed breath of fresh air. Of course, Chrollo would have argued on the second point that you could've gotten that by going out onto the deck outside your apartment. But that wasn't the same as walking around freely. That was probably part of your problem; that he'd essentially kept you under house arrest out of concern for your safety. Although his concern was appreciated, it felt like that was probably part of why you weren't doing well. Being locked inside had left you feeling stir-crazy, which didn't do any good for your mental state during a time that you were supposed to be recovering.

Dreams and nightmares have meanings, you remembered hearing. Maybe you being paralyzed and the figure that watched you was a representation of your deteriorating health while being kept trapped.

…. It probably wasn't that deep. Your mind was just running with random thoughts because it didn't have anything better to do. Again, another sign that staying cooped up was bad for you, regardless of what Chrollo told you.

It didn't feel good to sneak around him, but surely if you did this, he might ease up a little.

That thought had you feeling pretty good as you made your way down to the apartment lobby, pushing the button for the ground floor of the elevator and absentmindedly humming to yourself to pass the time as the elevator began made its descent. The last time you'd been out was when you were returning from the Dentora Region in Padokea, and you hadn't seen any of it as Chrollo wanted you to keep a bandage over your eyes until it was safe to remove, which was, of course, after you were back home.

There were two others present when you entered the lobby: a woman you didn't recognize who seemed to be a resident like yourself and a receptionist stationed at the desk. They were chatting with one another and didn't pay much attention to you when you walked past them. Heading towards the main doors of the building, you only glanced at them for a moment longer before bringing your attention to what was in front of you. Through the glass doors, you saw the street outside, the people who were walking along the sidewalk and the traffic in the streets.

Perfectly normal, nothing to be worried about.

But when you grasped the handlebar of the door was when you froze, and you stayed in place as you fully took in the sight before you.

The sad part was that nothing had really happened.

There was no dramatic scene outside that made you pause, no recreation of your accident with you being a bystander this time – it was simply a normal day outside in the city streets that were teeming with traffic.

And yet after that sight had set in, you stopped in your tracks.

Why? Nothing bad had happened. You'd been out before. Very briefly and while you were being transported to and from different hospitals and airports with Chrollo at your side, but still, dread filled you when you looked upon that street. Your hand gripped the handlebar so hard that your knuckles paled and your breathing got heavier.

Maybe it was because you were alone, because Chrollo wasn't here.

From behind, you heard the woman at the counter saying something that seemed to be directed at you. You couldn't hear it clearly. Then she got closer, and she said something else when she stood next to you. By that point, her words were background noise.

You weren't able to focus.

Suddenly you were in the backseat of that taxi, checking the weather forecast on your phone while some advertisement played on the car's radio. The driver was chatting with you about something mundane and unimportant while you half-listened to him, adding in some commentary of your own from time to time. Everything was fine.

Then the driver made a left turn and you heard him shout.

You looked up in time to see an oncoming car hit the taxi head on.

Then nothing.

Just the feeling of waking up with a curtain of darkness over your eyes that refused to lift.

This was a bad idea

Go back upstairs, you told yourself. Go back up and if you need to have a breakdown, do it in the comfort of your own home. Go back up.

Those thoughts ran through your head as you continued to look at the scene outside, unable to move.

Go back up.

“What's wrong with your eyes?”

You didn't really understand the question at first; all you knew was that someone was talking to you and you looked over to find that the woman was standing next to you. Better to apologize if she thought you were behaving strangely and to explain what had happened to you a year ago. Surely she and the receptionist would understand, and they would encourage you to go back up so you could recover in private.

But when you looked to the woman, you found that her expressions wasn't one of worry, but that of being disturbed, or even fearful, and she took a step back when you looked at her. When you glanced over to the receptionist who was still seated at their desk, they seemed confused until you made eye contact, and then their expression mirrored that of the woman.

They both looked at you like there was something wrong with you.

“Seriously,” the woman said, “what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

You heard the question, but again, it didn't register. All you saw were the disturbed gazes of the two before you, and all you wanted in that moment was to get away from them.

Without saying anything, you made your way back to the elevator, pushing the button to summon it and hoping it would come down quick.

It didn't.

And with the two still staring at you for a few more agonizing moments and you feeling like you could tear and claw at your own skin as you desperately wanted them to stop fucking looking at you, you opted to take the stairs back up to your level. Before the door closed behind you, you heard them talking in hushed whispers almost immediately after you were out of sight.

You felt your heart rate increase on hearing that.

You were lucky enough to not run into anyone else on your way back to your unit, though you didn't feel that way when you slammed the door shut and leaned against it after, supporting yourself while you tried to level out your breathing. What just happened? Why did you freak out? How could you still be so unprepared for life outside these walls?

Why did those two look at you like that?

You had no clue. What was that woman even talking about?

Still no clue. Your throat felt dry, though.

Pushing yourself off the door, you made your way to the kitchen. A glass of water should fix that. And maybe getting some fluids into you would help you feel better after that ordeal.

On your way to the kitchen you caught sight of something strange in the reflection of a decorative mirror that hung on the wall as you passed by. Something that looked red.

You paused after you passed it, then took a step back and looked into the mirror.

Your heart could've stopped in that moment.

Where you should've seen two gray eyes in your skull looking back at you, the color you saw in the irises was red. Two violent, bloody red eyes staring back at you, and you saw clearly when your expression grew distraught as you backed away from the mirror.

Why?

In an effort to tell whether or not you were dreaming, you dug your nails into the skin of your arm, just enough to cause you pain. If this was just a dream, the pain would be enough to snap you out of it and bring you back to reality. But as the minor amount of pain made itself known in the flesh of your arms, the image before you stayed the same: you, looking back at yourself in the mirror, and a pair of red eyes in your skull.

Why?

Not convinced that what you were seeing was real, you ran to the bathroom, wanting to see if those eyes would appear in the mirror in that one, too.

They did.

Why?

Desperate to be wrong, you went to the bedroom and pulled out a hand mirror, wanting to believe that somehow, the other mirrors had been tampered with and that this one would show you the truth.

The same bloody red eyes stared back at you a third time.

Why?

Panic overtook you. Your heartbeat was thundering in your ears and you felt so light-headed that you ended up on the floor, sinking your fingers into your scalp while you breathed hard in and out through your mouth. Why was this happening?

What happened in the moments after that point was hard to remember exactly. You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn't notice when time passed or when someone entered the room.

Chrollo found you on the floor of your bedroom, still staring at the image in the hand mirror that lay in front of you while you cried. He spoke your name as he placed both hands on your shoulders, and that snapped you out of it, looking up at him as you finally realized that you weren't alone anymore.

He stared at you for a moment before saying “it's alright now,” and pulling you against his chest. Without another thought you grabbed at him, holding onto him while you continued to cry. How long he held you like that was also unclear, but once you felt a bit more calm, you noticed that the sun was lower in the sky now than it had been when you first ventured out. Eventually your sobs quieted and your breathing became more regular.

Sensing that you were doing better, Chrollo gently pulled you away, caressing your cheek as he asked “what happened?”

After taking a few breaths, you spoke.

“I'm sorry,” you began, “I wanted to go out. I thought I'd be okay, but when I got down there…. I don't know, I freaked out.”

That wasn't the issue, you remembered. It was your eyes.

Your eyes. That he clearly saw.

You felt stupid. It would've been the first thing he noticed. You were looking right at him, and currently, his expression was neutral. Had it not hit him yet how strange it was? Would he have a similar reaction to the two downstairs? The thought of Chrollo looking at you like that almost sent you into an entirely new panic. But you shoved that down as you forced yourself to speak.

“You can see them, right?” you asked, “my eyes.”

He nodded slowly, but said nothing.

That only made your panic worse.

“I don't – I don't know why this is happening,” you stammered, “I don't know why this happened, what could've caused it. I swear this hasn't-”

Chrollo brought a hand up, and you stopped talking.

“First things first; we should get off the floor,” he told you.

Taking both of your hands into his, he pulled you to your feet and kept his grip firm on you when you stumbled. Once you were steady, he led you out of the bedroom and took you to the kitchen, where he sat you down at the table before pouring you a glass of water and urging you to drink it. You did as he told you, and as you downed the glass, he pulled up a chair to sit closer to you, keeping a hand on your shoulder as he watched your expressions. The water and his touch had you feeling more at ease.

When you placed the glass back down, he asked “are you feeling better?”

“Sort of.”

You reached up to touch the area beneath your eye, asking “but I don't understand why this is happening.”

Upon hearing that, Chrollo's hand that had been softly rubbing your shoulder stilled, and you looked back to find a resigned look on his face.

“Chrollo?”

“It's alright, love,” he said, “you were going to find out sooner or later.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you asked “find out what?”

Chrollo considered you for a moment before he spoke again, saying “I'm afraid I have a confession to make.”

“Confession?” you repeated.

“About the origins of your current eyes.”

You weren't sure where this was going, so you stayed quiet and waited for him to explain further. But instead, he asked you a question.

“Have you ever heard of the Kurta clan?”

Your eyebrows furrowed again as you shook your head.

“That isn't too surprising. They were a very small, secluded group of people that lived on the other side of the world,” Chrollo explained, “there isn't much known about them due to the way they isolated themselves, but the main thing that was known was what would happen to their eyes once they became agitated or upset in some way.”

What he was saying clicked for you as you asked “they turned red?”

He nodded.

Part of you wanted to feel relieved. Technically speaking, it wasn't so bad. Sure, it would be inconvenient for your eyes to turn red whenever you become upset, and learning to manage that would be difficult, but it could be worse. At the same time, however, you didn't understand why Chrollo had kept this from you. Since he had labeled this as a 'confession', there was no way for him to claim ignorance about the eyes. Maybe keeping this from you for the first few weeks was somewhat reasonable, but to stay silent for all this time? What reason could there be?

“…. So my eyes came from a donor from that clan?” you asked.

You didn't like the way he frowned after you said that, and the sinking feeling you were having only got worse.

“I'm afraid that the story is far more gruesome, love,” he began.

“How?”

“The scarlet eyes were considered by many to be a wonder of sorts, and the way the Kurta hid away from the outside world only made those people want to see them even more.”

You said nothing, but you couldn't help but note that he had referred to the Kurta in the past tense this entire time.

“It ended with the Kurta being massacred several years ago, and the eyes of those that had stayed red after death were harvested and sold on the black market.”

“Black market – people buy them?” you asked, incredulous and not sure what point you should address first.

“They're considered to be a collector's item,” Chrollo explained, “and their value tends to be high, given that there are only thirty six pairs in existence.”

Then he added “although now the number of eyes that one can buy has dropped to thirty five.”

It all clicked into place in that moment, and no words could escape you. All you could do was stare at Chrollo in shock.

He didn't fault you for that as he continued to speak.

“I'm sorry, love. I knew you wouldn't be happy once you learned the history behind them, but after realizing that you may never be able to see again, I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

You didn't know what to say, and your hand returned to your cheek as you processed what he'd just said. Things made sense now. Why he didn't want you going out. Why he made sure you weren't alone for any long periods of time. Why he wanted you to leave the city with him. All it would take was one really bad moment out in public and you would become a spectacle. Like what had happened downstairs in the lobby.

Just how long was he planning on keeping this from you?

Fuck

None of what he'd just told you could've been legal. He said that the eyes were sold on the black market, right? How many crimes had Chrollo committed to help you?

He must have sensed that your thinking at that moment was something along those lines, as he made a point to assure you that nothing bad would come from any of it, that he'd been thorough in making sure nothing would lead back to either of you. That no one knew he'd gotten the eyes aside from the specialist in Padokea, and that they'd been paid to not talk about it. Everything would be fine as long as the two of you were careful.

Everything would be fine.

He'd said that a lot during the past few months, and him telling you that had done a lot to keep you calm. Your thoughts went back to the many, many times he had his hand in yours as he said that, and how at peace you felt when you heard him say that.

And as for right now…. You still wanted that. Chrollo brought about a certain sense of security with him, and as you weren't sure how to take in this new information, it would've made you feel better to feel his touch and have his arms around you again as you decided what would've been the best way to react to all of this.

It didn't feel like you could do that right now as another question was on your lips.

“You bought the eyes of a murder victim off the black market?” you asked.

He was quick to respond.

“I know it sounds nasty, but it was for the best, love,” he answered, “there's nothing that can be done for that person who died, but their eyes can be put to good use for your sake.”

….. You didn't know how to reply to that. And despite his attempts to continue to talk to you, you weren't able to say anything else.

This was all too overwhelming.

You needed some time alone.

When you began to stand up and pull out of his grip, he spoke your name. But you didn't let him get any further as you interrupted him.

“I'm not leaving or doing anything stupid. I just need some time to process this on my own,” you told him.

He didn't seem happy about it, but he let you go and didn't follow after when you walked back to the bedroom and shut the door behind you, though he watched you the entire time. Once you entered, your gaze immediately went to the hand mirror that you had left behind on the floor earlier, and you approached it tentatively, scared of the sight you might find in it again.

Relief hit you when you looked into the mirror and found that the red color had dulled. It wasn't gone completely, but it wasn't as vibrant as before. Hopefully it'd be gone completely soon.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, and you settled down onto the edge of the bed.

….. The room felt stuffy.

Being on your own wasn't enough. After spending who knows how long in here freaking out, you needed out of this room completely.

The door that opened up to the balcony slid open and you stepped out. Taking in a deep breath as you got the fresh air you'd failed to get earlier, you sat down on the balcony flooring and wrapped your arms around your legs before resting your chin on your knees as you collected your thoughts.

How the fuck had you ended up in this situation?

In the span of a single conversation, you'd found out that your boyfriend of several years had done dealings on the black market by buying the eyes of someone who had been murdered. You'd learned of a clan who seemed to have been driven into extinction because people decided it was better to cut out and pickle their eyes like collectibles, and then that your boyfriend had essentially used one of those pairs of eyes as spare parts so you could go back to the way you'd been before the accident.

Where do you even begin to unpack all of that?

Legally, all of this was wrong. Buying body parts was illegal, and getting involved with the black market and possibly the mafia would be opening up a whole world of potential trouble. How much had all of that cost? The eyes along with whatever he had paid that specialist in Padokea – how much had you drained him financially? You knew Chrollo did well with his job, but would there be any resentment on his part for how much you had cost him?

You hadn't noticed anything off about him, but then again, Chrollo was good at hiding things. This revelation was proof of that.

And then the eyes themselves. Or rather, where they had come from. You'd assumed that they had come from someone who'd been in an accident and had signed up for organ donation. That had made you a bit more comfortable with the idea, that the eyes had belonged to someone who didn't want them to go to waste. Now that you knew what had really happened, it felt morally wrong that you were using them. Someone had died for something as silly as preserving an eye color, and now their eyes had been used just so you could see again.

Spare parts.

Those words came to mind again and you felt guilt for it.

If only that accident hadn't happened. If only you hadn't gone out that day. If only, if only.

You pressed your head against your knees while wrapping your arms tighter. Fat lot of good that kind of thinking did.

The door to the balcony slid open, and you turned your head to find Chrollo standing outside. He had one of your hoodies in hand which he held out to you.

“It's cold out, love,” he said, “wear this.”

You didn't feel that cold, but you accepted the hoodie anyway and gave him a soft “thank you” in response.

He seemed pensive as he watched you pull the hoodie on.

“Do you still need to be alone?” he asked.

It hadn't been that long since you separated yourself from him – it was a few minutes at best – yet you answered “I don't know.”

He hummed as he shut the door behind him and took a place next to you on the balcony, both of you sitting on the floor while you looked out at the buildings across the way. You glanced over at him a few times, only to find that you couldn't really read him in that moment. Your worry from earlier reared its head again – was he mad at you? Did he feel like he'd spent so much time, effort and money only for you to turn out to be an ingrate? What would happen if that was the case?

“Are you angry with me?” you asked. Your nails were digging into the skin of your leg, scared of what his answer might be.

“Of course not, love.”

Chrollo pulled your hand away from your leg and held it, clearly not wanting to see you hurt yourself.

“I should be the one asking if you're upset with me,” he then said.

He kept his eyes on you while your gaze stayed on the city as you thought over what he'd said.

Were you upset?

Yeah.

But how much of that was directed at him?

“I don't think so,” you answered.

“You don't think so?”

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts before you were able to get the words out.

“I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I'm really happy that I got my eyesight back, and it also makes me really happy that you would do so much just for me, that I matter enough for you to go that far,” you began.

“But it's really scary that you would involve yourself with criminals.”

He stayed quiet as you continued.

“I don't want you to get involved with dangerous people and get hurt for my sake. It would kill me if someone went after you because you bought the eyes just so I could see again. If I had known that was what you were going to do to help me, I would've told you not to go through with it.”

Chrollo seemed thoughtful as he considered your words.

“I suppose I wasn't thinking about that,” he told you, “all I could think about was how I could help you.”

That was sweet, you had to admit. And it made you feel guilty for pulling away from him earlier. He was just trying to help, right?

“What made you go that far?” you asked.

“That's a silly question, don't you think? Why wouldn't I do everything in my power for your sake?”

…. That also made sense. And you knew that if the positions were reversed, you would want to do everything you could to help him if he needed it.

The whole issue of the eyes themselves was still strange, however.

“Why didn't you tell me that the eyes would change color?” you asked.

“I wasn't sure they would change at first,” he said, “when they were preserved, they were permanently stuck in their red form. It was quite surprising when you first opened your eyes and I saw that they were gray.”

Had he seemed surprised when you took off the bandages? You couldn't recall; being able to see again had been too overwhelming for you to remember much of how he'd been acting during that time.

“Did you ever realize before this point that they could still turn red?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

For once, your boyfriend didn't seem to know how to respond. An unusual sight to see, for sure.

“I was going to once we left the city,” he eventually said, “I thought it'd be good to do it then once we were in an environment that was better for you.”

“I think I would've preferred you told me before this.”

“That's understandable. And for that, I'm sorry.”

Chrollo squeezed your hand gently as he added “thinking on it now, I was using that as an excuse to put off telling you about it. I couldn't think of any way to ease you into revealing the truth.”

He had a point there. As hard as you tried, you couldn't think of any way to open up a conversation like that.

He still should have told you, though.

But there wasn't much you could do about it, so all you said was “at least I know now.”

Chrollo was oddly quiet once again.

“Can I ask you about something else?” you added.

“Of course.”

“Was the specialist you took me to also involved with criminal stuff?” you asked.

“There were no legal avenues I could take to restore your vision, love.”

That made sense. It explained why the doctors at the hospital you'd gone to told you there was nothing that could be done. It was also scary; Chrollo had entrusted everything to some shady individual who operated outside of the legal limits. What if something had gone horribly wrong? What if they'd done something to you and you were left off worse than you were after the accident?

But Chrollo wouldn't have let that happen.

You needed to believe that.

The two of you remained quiet. Your brain couldn't come up with any other questions at that moment, and Chrollo was waiting for you to speak.

Not long after he took the initiative to ask a question of his own.

“What else is bothering you?” he asked.

“…. I feel guilty,” you said.

“Because of how the scarlet eyes came to be available?”

“Yeah.”

“You shouldn't,” he said, “after all, you didn't have anything to do with what happened to those people.

“I know that,” you began, “but I just feel like the person who had the eyes originally would be mad that I was using them. They died because of their eyes, and then I end up using them like they're spare parts for a car.”

“That's quite a pessimistic view.”

“Doesn't mean it's wrong.”

“True, but think of it this way, love,” he continued, “instead of leaving their eyes floating in jars to be gawked at, you're putting them to good use. I'm sure that, whoever they were, the Kurta Clan member would have preferred that someone actually use their eyes as opposed to allowing them to gather dust while they sat on someone's shelf as a decoration.”

…. It did make it sound a bit better, but it wasn't like the guilt could be pushed aside just like that.

That would likely be something else you'd need to learn to live with.

“Are you sure you're not mad at me?” you asked.

“Not at all,” he told you, “I know that the steps I took to help you are ones most consider to be wrong, and I understand the guilt you feel after finding out where the eyes came from. But I hope that you also understand that I did what I did because I wanted to help you.”

“I do. And I really am grateful.”

You sighed, adding “I just wish that accident had never happened. Then we wouldn't even need to have this discussion.”

“I know.”

With that, Chrollo squeezed your hand softly again, just like he had during those long days from before. That made you feel a bit better.

“Can you just promise me something?”

“Promise you what, love?” Chrollo asked.

“That you won't buy human body parts off the black market again. Or anything similar to that. Even if you're just trying to help me,” you said.

To that, he smiled, and brought your hand up to his mouth so he could kiss it.

“I promise I'll never buy body parts off the black market for any reason,” he said after.

You let out a sigh.

“Never thought I'd need to ask you something like that,” you said.

“Life is full of surprises,” said Chrollo.

“That's one way to put it,” you answered.

Sunset was quickly approaching, given the golden hue in the sky. Nightfall would come soon after, and accompanying that would be a drop in the temperature. It probably wouldn't be the greatest idea to be sitting on the floor for too much longer.

Chrollo certainly realized that as he squeezed your hand again and said “we should go back inside, love.”

You nodded.

“Okay.”

With that, he stood back up and pulled you up after. One of his hands went to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly at your skin.

“I think it's time we got started on dinner, don't you?” he asked.

You nodded again.

“And after if you'd like, we can watch one of those terrible horror movies that you enjoy so much.”

At that, you couldn't help but let out a little of a laugh.

“You must be desperate to make me feel better if you're willing to sit through one of those with me,” you said.

“Whatever it takes to make you happy,” he answered, jokingly adding “even if I feel my brain cells slowly shriveling up while I sit through the trash you make me watch.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth, love.”

You laughed again as he led you inside. This felt good. The normal, playful banter between you two that signified that things were fine. As questionable as everything he'd revealed had been, you didn't want to think about it much right now. It was easier to push it to the side and focus on other things. Like the intentionally awful movie you'd pick for him to roll his eyes at.

But as you were considering that, another thought came to mind.

“Actually….”

Chrollo turned to you after shutting the balcony door, tilting his head in question.

“After dinner, would you read to me?” you asked.

He smiled.

“Of course, love.”

After dinner, the two of you found yourselves on the couch, with you resting your head against Chrollo's shoulder while he read aloud to you, his free hand in your own and your fingers intertwined with his.

After the accident, when you'd been brought home but your leg was still in a cast, Chrollo would read to you often. With you being largely confined to the bed, he would settle down next to you as he read to you, holding out his hand so you could take it in yours. More often than not you would wrap both of your arms around his, your cheek resting on his shoulder while his hand would hold yours firmly. Those moments on their own made the days while your leg healed more bearable.

The feeling of Chrollo's hand holding yours had become a familiar one during that time. It helped a lot more than you would've anticipated – with sound alone, you weren't always sure of where he was around you, but the feeling of his hand in yours while he talked with you or read aloud to you helped you to know for certain that he was by your side.

That he really wouldn't leave you.

He stopped suddenly in the middle of his reading, and you looked up to find his gaze on you.

“What's wrong?” you asked.

“I have to admit, I was worried,” he said, “after learning everything, I thought you may want to leave me.”

“Me? Leave you?”

That thought hadn't crossed your mind even once. While you'd been shocked and incredibly worried when it came to the black market dealings in particular, you couldn't envision any sort of future where you packed up your things and left him behind. Certain things he'd said still scared you, and maybe for some people, those admissions might be enough to make them leave. But everything that had happened, you couldn't imagine spitting in his face like that.

Even if some of what he said was scary, it wasn't like his actions had directly hurt anyone, you told yourself.

You shook your head as you said “I don't think I could live without you, Chrollo.”

The second you uttered those words he kissed you.

It was far more forceful than you'd experienced in months and the pure passion of it surprised you, leaving you slightly stunned. He held you after he pulled away, and again you were surprised, this time by how firmly he held you.

Chrollo had been that worried that your response would be to leave?

You reciprocated his hug, silently communicating that you wouldn't do that.

You sensed the way he smiled against your hair.

He understood.

The day you learned the truth about the scarlet eyes had been a hectic one, yet it had managed to end calmly. Despite that, however, a majority of the days that followed were more in line with what had happened down in the lobby: out of nowhere, something would come over you and leave you unable to function properly as you struggled to control your emotions. Sometimes it was triggered by a phobia that suddenly made itself known, other times you were once again left confused as to why it happened at all.

Maybe it was all because you knew now what would happen once you became upset and how you'd see similar reactions from others like the two downstairs. It could be really bad for you if you freaked out in public and someone from the group that killed the Kurta found out and think that they'd missed one.

It was safe to say that your desire to go back out had died completely.

Even if the chances of those killers finding out about you were slim, you decided that it was too dangerous to risk it. Especially with how out-of-control your emotions were right now. You didn't want people to know – to look at you like that again.

The only one you could depend on was Chrollo.

Your boyfriend was always quick to rush to your side when he saw you weren't doing well – now easier to tell than ever due to the mood ring quality your eyes possessed. Despite this new bought of helplessness you were now displaying, you still got no sense that he was annoyed with you over it. He was just as understanding and calm as he'd been prior.

He stared at your eyes a lot, though.

It took you a few times of it happening before you realized just how often he would stare, his gaze on the blood red color in your eyes. There was always some reason he had to pull away from you, be it to grab you something to drink or to cup your cheek and caress it softly. With that latter action, there was always the silent encouragement to turn your face up towards him, his hand ever so slightly angling your jaw so you would look at him. And when his gray eyes met your scarlet ones, you felt as though you could see something strange moving within them. Some emotion of his being betrayed despite the expression on his face showing something different.

There was some manner of fascination he had with them, you came to realize, and you wondered how long he had known of the scarlet eyes before your accident even happened.

…. At least he wasn't disgusted with you. The faces of those two in the lobby frequently came to mind, especially during those moments of duress. At least Chrollo wasn't looking at you like they had. And even if the way Chrollo would at times treat you as though you were made of glass, you knew it came from a desire to protect you, perhaps born out of whatever feelings of helplessness he had felt once he finally received word that you had been in that accident, that you had been hurt so badly while he happened to be gone.

Chrollo looking at the scarlet eyes the way he did wasn't a big deal, you told yourself.

The fact that he cared about you so deeply was more important.

The other upside during that period of time was the fact that your nightmares had stopped. Maybe that was because you were simply too exhausted from the stress to have the energy to dream. Regardless, you preferred it that way, even if your days weren't all that better.

When Chrollo broached the topic of moving again, you didn't fight him on it. There were too many stresses that came with living in the city. The last few days had made that clear. If you wanted to live a healthy life, you couldn't continue on like this, and while you were sad to leave the life the two of you had made together here, Chrollo encouraged you to think on it positively. It wouldn't be the same, but it would be better for you.

You agreed.

After that point, the panics that took over you almost daily slowly died down as you began moving preparations.

In your mind, that was because you were being moved to a place that would be better for your mental health, with less things that would stress you out. While a part of you would always be sad that you likely wouldn't be back here, the fact that your panic died down cemented to yourself that this was the right decision.

The days were filled with moving boxes and packaging. Monotonous work that left you tired and sweaty after moving around heavy boxes. Today had largely consisted of packing away a majority of Chrollo's book collection, so you were more tired than usual. After a shower, you were standing in front of the bathroom sink in the middle of your bedtime routine, ready for another dreamless sleep.

When Chrollo entered the bathroom and came up behind you, the way he wrapped his arms around you after wasn't entirely unexpected, looking at you through the mirror as he held you close to him.

You leaned into his touch, placing a hand on top of one of his as you asked “everything okay?”

He nodded.

“I'm just grateful we can still have moments like this,” he told you.

You smiled and lightly squeezed his hand as you said “me too.”

Chrollo smiled back at you.

He turned you around and placed a kiss on your lips. You returned the gesture, placing your hands on his chest as you leaned against him.

Then one of Chrollo's hands reached up to cup the back of your head while his tongue pressed against your lips in a not so subtle way of asking that you open up for him. You obliged, and his tongue was then moving against your own while his free hand wandered down and squeezed your ass. The noise of surprise you made was muffled by the kiss.

Ah.

It'd been a while for both of you, hadn't it?

With all that had been going on since your accident, with your broken leg healing up and your recovery after getting the eyes, sex had been one of the furthest things on your mind. But now that you had Chrollo's body pressed up against you and his lips on yours, you realized just how much you needed him. To have that skin on skin contact and that ache in your legs afterwards.

You wrapped your arms around his neck while your teeth nipped at his tongue that was still in your mouth. Chrollo's hands immediately went down so he could hoist you up onto the counter, opening your legs after so he could slot himself between them.

He must've been pent up as well, but had held off until he was certain that you were better.

Always looking out for you and your well-being.

You pulled away from the kiss to whisper “I love you, Chrollo.”

“I love you too,” was the response he gave before he pressed his mouth against yours once more. He seemed needier than you were used to – no doubt a result of him putting his needs aside for you. You decided then that tonight you would do whatever he wanted.

A strand of saliva kept you connected when he pulled his mouth away from yours before it broke as he stood up straight. His hands went to the hem of your shirt with the intent of pulling over your head as he looked back to you-

And then he froze.

Chrollo blinked at you, as if he was surprised. You, on the other hand, were confused by why things had stopped.

“What is it?” you asked, still a bit breathless.

“Have I upset you?”

His question confused you as you answered “what? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Your eyes.”

“Huh?”

You turned your head so you could look at the mirror and see what he was talking about.

Oh no.

Your irises had turned red.

But why? You weren't angry or upset – you wanted this. Why had they changed color when you were fine?

Then you felt Chrollo begin to take his hands off of you, and you quickly turned your attention back to him, grabbing onto his shirt as you said “Chrollo, I'm not upset. Really. I want this, too. I promise.”

One of his hands came up to caress your cheek as he gazed into your eyes.

Then after a moment, he nodded as he said “I believe you.”

Relief filled you, and you glanced back at the mirror again, taking in the red of the irises.

“I don't know why they turned red, though,” you mumbled.

Chrollo hummed as he moved your head so he could look into your eyes again.

“Perhaps,” he began, “the Kurta eyes don't change color just from anger.”

“Wait, you mean they also turn red from….?”

You trailed off, for some reason finding yourself too embarrassed to finish the sentence. But he decided to finish it for you.

“Arousal, yes,” he confirmed.

“…. Did you know about that?” you asked.

“It's new information to me,” he answered, “I doubt that the Kurta clan would have wanted to advertise such a thing.”

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense.”

He was still staring at your eyes, not saying anything. And the longer things stayed like that, the more awkward you felt. Until he'd approached you, you weren't aware of how much you wanted him, the tiredness you'd felt moments earlier gone completely. Now that he'd stopped you desperately wanted to continue where you left off just a few moments earlier.

Did he not want to now? You'd realized that he had a fascination with them, but was adding sex into the mix too off-putting for him?

“… Does it bother you?” you asked after another beat of silence.

He smiled at you.

“On the contrary,” Chrollo said, pulling you off the counter and turning you around once again, making you squeak as he did so.

“You were upset those times before, so it seemed inappropriate to say anything about it-”His hand gripped your jaw as he made you look back at your reflection.

“-but it is a beautiful color, don't you think?”

With little other choice, you looked to the reflection of your eyes in the mirror.

The vibrant scarlet was still present, but now that you were made to really look at them, you found that the color was darkest around the outer circle of the iris, with bits of lighter shades of red speckled around going up towards your pupils. The blood red color itself was so vivid that it almost looked as though it was glowing. Your pupils dilated the longer you looked, and then you noticed another quality they had: an odd shimmer within the scarlet, like a halo that surrounded your pupil that almost seemed to have an iridescent quality to it. All of those things were odd, to say the least, yet you found that you couldn't disagree with your boyfriend's opinion.

You looked back to Chrollo through the mirror and found that he was waiting for a response from you.

“…. It is,” you agreed softly.

He smiled at you before leaning in to kiss you on the cheek.

“It really-” you were cut off when he buried his face in your neck, sucking at your skin with the intent of leaving marks. Looking at the mirror during that felt strange, so you looked to the side while you gripped at the counter.

“It really doesn't bother you?” you managed to get out when you composed yourself.

“I promise you; it doesn't.”

His free hand snaked down beneath the waistband of your pants as he said that, and you let out another squeak when his fingers began to play with your clit.

“Chrollo-”

“Keep looking, love.”

Those fingers continued playing with your clit while his other hand re-positioned itself on your jaw, making you look back at the mirror. While you did try a few times to move your jaw out of his hand, you were forced to give up as his grip was scarily strong. And when you shut your eyes as you felt Chrollo's fingers slip into your cunt, a nip on your neck forced them back open, and he whispered as he once again told you to keep looking. Remembering what you told yourself of doing what he wanted, you followed that instruction.

You saw how your fingers held tight onto the edge of the counter, unable to find purchase anywhere else. You saw how you bit your lip in frustration when Chrollo began to tease you by pushing his fingers in before immediately pulling them of you in favor of caressing the lips of your pussy. You saw how his arm moved as he delved into you again with the intent of scissoring you open. And you saw the way his eyes flashed over to look at you through the mirror when he heard the noise that escaped your mouth.

Through all of that, you found yourself always looking back to the red reflection of your eyes that only seemed to grow more vibrant.

It felt embarrassing, to be made to watch a reflection of yourself becoming a flustered mess from the way your boyfriend toyed with you while he kept you pressed against the counter. Every time his fingers brushed over a part of you that was sensitive would have you jolt against his firm chest, and every time you felt his teeth biting ever so softly into the skin of your neck had you moaning.

By now you could feel how hard he was as his erection pressed up against your ass.

His fingers were gliding out of you even easier now and your underwear was a wet mess. The heat inside of you was building up as you moved your hips against his hand, trying to get him in deeper.

Chrollo glanced up at you again through the mirror and your eyes met.

And then he stopped.

You managed to keep a frustrated whine contained within you as he pulled his hands away from you, leaning them against the counter as he remained on top of you.

“Would you do something for me?” he asked breathlessly.

“D-do what?” you asked in response that was just as breathless.

“Turn around and get on your knees for me.”

“Ah…”

He pulled away from you as you understood what it was he wanted, and though you were immediately missing the way he touched you, you told yourself not to be selfish.

The fibers of the bathroom mat protected your legs from the cool tiles of the floor as you knelt down before him. Though your hands were shaky, you went to undo his zipper before you pulled the material of his pants and underwear out of the way, allowing his cock to spring free of those confines.

You let out a soft breath as one hand went up to stroke him, fingers gliding over his length with a feather light touch. When you gripped him fully was when you felt him twitch in your hand. You continued like that, hand running along his dick while you leaned in to place a kiss at the head, licking the tip after. You heard his sharp intake of breath and saw from your peripheral vision the way his hand clenched into a fist. Remembering once again of how pent up Chrollo must've been spurred you to not waste time with teasing him and in moments you had his length in your mouth, your tongue moving against the underside of his dick and your cheeks hollowing as you sucked.

The appreciative groan that came from his lips and the gentle hand that settled in your hair after told you that you were doing good, and you closed your eyes as you continued to bob up and down his dick.

“Don't do that.”

Those words surprised you, and you stopped suddenly to look up to him, uncertain of what you'd done wrong. The intensity of his stare caught you off-guard and you pulled off of him. Or you would have had it not been for the hand that kept your head from moving any further. Within a moment, that same hand moved to caress your cheek just beneath your eye.

“Keep looking at me, love,” he said, “just like that.”

You made a noise of affirmation before you continued as you had been, keeping your eyes open this time. It felt a little awkward for you to stare at him the whole time, but if that was what he wanted, you would do it.

You wanted him to be happy with you.

His cheeks became more flushed and his breathing was getting harsher, all the while those gray eyes bore into you. Chrollo always had an odd way of seeming to look right through you, and that was no exception now. Though never had there been such an intense look of fascination and awe until now, as his eyes gazed into yours.

You would be lying if you said it wasn't slightly unsettling.

It won't always be like that, you told yourself.

It's only because it's been so long since you did this for him.

Both of Chrollo's hands ended up tangled in your hair, and he stopped your movements completely as he forced himself down your throat. A soft groan from above and the clenching of his thighs served as the signs that he was about to cum, and soon you felt his release running down your throat, forcing you to gulp as you swallowed it since he still held you in place.

When you felt him begin to soften he finally let go, pulling out of your mouth and leaning against the sink counter as he collected his breath. You watched him from your spot on the bathroom floor, your thighs pressing together while you bit your lip. Your pussy was dripping and you were desperate for him to do something about was the frustrating ache inside of you. Remembering the way Chrollo had his fingers inside of you for that brief period only made it worse, and all you wanted was for him to continue where he left off.

He noticed, smiling at you as he asked “shall I take care of you as well?”

“Yes,” you answered without any hesitation.

He laughed.

“Eager, aren't we?”

“I was a little worried you weren't going to,” you admitted.

“When have I ever been that cruel to you, love?”

He said that while holding a hand out for you, one that you took and allowed him to haul you up to your feet. You ended up leaning against his chest, wide eyes staring up at him.

Out of curiosity, you glanced over to the mirror. Your eyes were still red. What a surprise. At least you were getting used to the sight. Chrollo then turned your jaw once more so you would face him as he leaned in for a kiss.

A weird pain suddenly shot through your chest once you saw his face.

You should hate him

…. Why would you ever hate Chrollo?

You weren't given anymore time to think on that as your lips met his and your arms wrapped around his neck while you pressed yourself against him. That weird feeling was pushed down into the depths of your chest; this was all you cared about right now.

Chrollo was on top of you, his arms caging you in on the bed while he thrust his hips against yours. You were squirming beneath him, one of your hands insistent on holding onto one of his own while you did your best to minimize the amount of pained noises coming from your mouth. He knew he was being too rough; you hadn't had sex in months and he should've been more gentle. But the sight of you laying beneath him and the red Kurta eyes staring up at him so lovingly caused Chrollo to simply not care as much at the moment – as long as he didn't hurt you beyond some bruising, you would be fine. And even that could be soothed in the moment. Whenever those noises of discomfort did become too loud, Chrollo would lean back down to place tender kisses on your lips or suck on your neck, and the feeling of his lips against your skin had you mewling while you squeezed his hand.

The marks on your neck, shoulders and chest tallied up while you forgave him easily, likely in part because of the past few months and how much of a burden you must've felt like during that time, as well as because of the sheer gratitude you had towards him, that he had done so much to give you back your sight.

He could get away with being a little rough.

And as he pushed himself back up so he could stare down at you again, he once more brought his gaze to the sight of the scarlet eyes that he admired so much.

It was a surreal sight, one he had never anticipated.

Nor had he planned on using the scarlet eyes for you. Not at first.

It began after bringing you home. Determined to keep the promise he'd made to you at the hospital, he had tracked down a transmuter who had the skills to replace your old eyes with ones that worked – a pity he couldn't steal their abilities for himself – and once you were well enough to travel again, Chrollo had looked about the area where the two of you lived to find a suitable replacement. At that point his goal had been to find a pair of eyes that looked close to yours, spending a considerably long time trying to find the correct shade of your original color while you recovered under the supervision of other members of the troupe.

He thought he knew what he wanted when he found a woman who had the color you once had, and after learning her schedule and when she would be alone, he'd gathered up what he needed for the job: the blade he would use to slice her throat so he could kill without her crying out, the tools that he would use to extract her eyes from her skull without damaging them, and the jars filled with fluids that would keep the eyes preserved until they could be transferred to you.

Chrollo was moments away from ending that woman's life when he remembered that job from years prior, when he and the troupe had attacked the Kurta Clan. Handling the jars had brought the memories back, as they had brought over a hundred of them for the heist; yet most had ended up unused as they hadn't been able to kill enough of the clan members when their eyes had been in the scarlet state.

While the massacre of the Kurta Clan had been a success in the troupe's book, he had always been personally unsatisfied with the final results of that heist. There was something lacking in the end result for him, as the eyes in the jars didn't look the same as when they did in the heads of those Kurta members who had died by his hand. The vibrance that had been present in living eyes that held emotion – that was gone. After the deed was done, all he saw in the dead eyes that floated in those jars was a waste of effort.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

That was when the thought struck him: what if he gave you one of the pairs of scarlet eyes?

… It was impractical, he thought after. For one, it would require him to track down someone who had a pair of the eyes, and once he found them, he'd need to steal them and more than likely kill the owner in the process. And going through all of that would cause you to wait longer. It was much less trouble to go with what he had planned initially and settle for the eyes he had already picked for you.

There was no need to go that extra mile when you would be grateful either way.

But now that the idea had come to him, it itched in his brain. The thought of not only being able to see the scarlet eyes as they were meant to be seen, but also that you might have them.

That mental image was all he could think in that moment, and it was then that Chrollo knew that he wouldn't be satisfied with anything else. So he walked away from his would-be victim's apartment, the woman within completely unaware that a passing thought of his had saved her life.

It was more for him than it was for you. He was well aware of that. And during the time he spent tracking down one of the thirty six pairs, he was aware of the disappointment you felt at how often he was gone, though you kept those thoughts to yourself. He could tell even without Pakunoda informing him that you were desperately terrified at the thought of him leaving you. The relief you felt when he always returned was evident in your voice, your body language and the way you gripped his hand.

The stress he was putting you through his search and retrieval of the eyes was wholly unnecessary.

But he pursued it regardless, intent on making the vision in his mind a reality.

And within a relatively short amount of time, he did just that. Now not only did he have you, but he also had the sight of the scarlet eyes with the life brought back into them.

Your pussy walls fluttered around his cock and he heard you moan. This time it sounded far more pleasurable and he sensed you were getting close. Without missing a beat Chrollo moved his hand so he could rub your clit with his thumb.

That was enough to make you cum on his cock, and the legs you had wrapped around his hips clenched hard onto him while your grasping fingers intertwined with his and you rode out your high beneath him.

That shade of red truly was mesmerizing, Chrollo thought to himself, his eyes focused on yours. Everything he'd done had all been worth it just to get to this moment right now.

He reached down once your orgasm had subsided, softly petting your cheek while you breathed through your mouth. You leaned into his touch immediately, smiling up at him.

“Love,” he began, “may I finish?”

As expected, you agreed. You didn't say anything when he resumed his harsh pace from earlier; you only readjusted your grip on his hand. With another love-bite left on your neck, Chrollo pushed himself back up with his arm, staring down at you while he continued to thrust his hips and fucked you into the bed.

“You're perfect.”

He breathed those words out and you smiled, somehow managing to seem embarrassed by the compliment despite everything he'd done to you tonight, as you glanced away. Chrollo cupped your cheek, bringing your gaze back on him.

When the scarlet eyes looked up at him again he began moving faster.

This surprise you both learned about the Kurta Clan eyeballs was a welcome one. Now he didn't need to force you into a panic to see them again. No more need to use any stolen ability to get your adrenaline to rush during the day while you were left inconsolable. No more need to interrupt your sleep schedule to gaze at them during the night while you silently cried. Now if he wanted a view of those eyes all he needed to do was force you onto your knees and push his cock in your mouth.

He'd be doing that more often. Definitely.

And you would be eager and willing to do so, jumping at any chance you could to show your appreciation for all that he had done.

As Chrollo looked into your eyes, he felt as his hands moved to your throat, grabbing you and holding you just hard enough to cut off the circulation. He'd done it without thinking, continuing the habit he'd picked up from those nights he spent watching you. There was something about the way you looked up at him while he had you like this. How helpless and at his mercy you were.

Your reaction was let out a soft gasp in surprise and to move to place your own hand on his forearm. There was no attempt to pull him off.

Once more, he was fascinated by the sight. And once more, he had to wonder if those eyes had looked at him like that before when they'd been in the possession of their previous owner. If this particular set was one that he himself had collected and bottled up.

If the eyes that now gazed up at him so lovingly had once done so in hate.

His grip on your throat must have gotten too hard, as the hold you had on his forearm tightened ever so slightly while you whined. Hazy scarlet eyes stared up at him, looking up in a mixture of arousal and fear.

He fully lost control then, stopping as he pressed himself as deep as he was able while he came, his hot release spilling into you and making you whimper as you felt his cum dribbling out of you.

That was long overdue.

With that, he released his grip on your throat and relaxed, falling onto the bed next to you as he pulled himself out of your sore pussy. Your eyes were still that shade of vibrant red, and they would remain that way until your heart rate returned to normal.

As relaxed as he felt, he noticed how tense you had become, your eyebrows furrowed as though you were thinking about something unpleasant.

“Is something wrong, love?"

You blinked as you looked over to him in response to his question, looking blank for a moment before forcing a smile on your face and shaking your head. Chrollo brought his hand back up to cup your cheek, asking “are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

The way your eyes moved about told him that you weren't being entirely truthful, and he wondered for a moment just how much you were able to remember of those nights he spent gazing at you.

But before he could begin to do any sort of damage control, you spoke again, asking “Chrollo, could you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he answered.

Your smile seemed more genuine as you softly asked “will you hold me?”

Within an instant Chrollo had pulled you against his chest, cupping the back of your head with his hand as he said “you never need to ask for that.”

You hummed happily, nuzzling your face against his chest. The tenseness of your muscles melted away shortly after.

He'd been far too greedy tonight. He was so focused on the eyes and the newfound knowledge of the color also being linked to arousal that he'd wanted to drink in the sight at every moment. So much so that he'd held you down to keep you in place, something he'd never really done before the accident.

He would need to do a better job of controlling himself in the future if he wanted to keep you happy and complacent. While the chances were slim, there was always a possibility that you could learn the truth about everything: about him, about the troupe, and about who really was responsible for the death of the Kurtas.

Even with his efforts to ensure that you were heavily dependent on him, you wouldn't want to stay if you learned all of that. You might not even want those eyes in your skull anymore.

Better to not put you in situations where you could remember something unpleasant involving him and begin to put the pieces together. Keeping you happy while he kept you away from the rest of the world would be better for you, even if the alternative possibly gave him more opportunities to see that red color he admired so much. Losing the way you so eagerly clung to him wasn't worth it.

“I think we sabotaged ourselves,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Hm?”

“It's so late, and we still need to do so much. We're going to be exhausted tomorrow,” you continued.

“We'll manage,” he said, “just like we always do. Right?”

You smiled against his skin as you nodded, and Chrollo took the opportunity to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Getting some sleep is a good idea, though,” he added.

You hummed in agreement as Chrollo turned to flip the light switch, and held you once more as the room was shrouded in darkness. Moments passed before you spoke once more.

“Chrollo?”

“What is it, love?”

“Things will be better now, right?”

Chrollo smiled to himself as he answered “of course they will, love. You can trust me on that.”

[akindplace]

Everyone in this world deserves good things. They don’t have to earn it. And most of us would agree with that but maybe some of us wouldn’t include ourselves, as if we were so awful that we become an exception to the rule. But you do deserve it. There will always be people who find you lovely, who will wish for you to be happy. And they’re not wrong. But your self-worth is suffering because of your anxiety, because of your desire to be perfect.

Don’t set yourself up for failure with your perfectionism. I’m sorry someone made you feel like you needed to earn love, comfort, contentment. Most people are not like that and they do not wish to watch as you self-sabotage, they will not judge you so harshly. I hope you can stay away from those who feel like things must always be earned and that if you make a mistake, you’ll be a complete failure. You’re just a person. Making mistakes is a part of life.You don’t have to perfect.

You won’t become prettier after you lose weight because you always were. You won’t be greater when you write the perfect thesis and graduate. You don’t need to prove to anyone that you deserve space in this world. You were born in this place so now all you have to do is live. You don’t need to achieve a certain goal that makes you sabotage your social or professional life in order to get where you want to be. Life itself is imperfect, chaotic, unpredictable. Do what needs to be done in ways that allow time for yourself, for resting, for hobbies, because those good things are rightfully yours.

And maybe if you’re thinking “others deserve it more” or that “good things don’t last in my life”, then please don’t compare yourself to others, it isn’t fair. And what if those things stick with you and they make you happy? What if they don’t go anywhere? Then you will need to admit that change is a scary thing (even when it’s a change for the best) and that you’re not a terrible person who doesn’t deserve anything. You deserve happiness. You deserve a life of your own, not when you finally become perfect, but because despite your shortcomings, you’ll always be worthy of happiness. It’s time to stop punishing yourself and to start believing you’re enough as you are right at this moment.

[tritoch]

I wish people were willing to have a slightly broader or more expansive understanding of FFXIV's women because I think there's so much there in terms of easily-unearthed subtext that no one really thinks about! And I don't mean this in a "people need to re-evaluate their response to the women of Stormblood" way (though I do think that's largely true), I mean I think fandom's understanding even of the women it mostly likes is pretty weak. And you can say that's because the women are underwritten, and I won't argue that they couldn't use more attention from the writing, but that doesn't prevent you from analyzing them the way you can any character in fiction.

Like everyone's always like, oh, Y'shtola and Krile are like your snarky wine aunts, haha. But...Sharlayan is a pretty ossified and patriarchal society from what we see of it in Endwalker and places like the AST quests. Can we open ourselves to the possibility that it means something that almost every young Sharlayan woman we meet, almost all young women in academia, tends to be a little sharp and quick on the retort? The arch and snarky ways in which those two carry themselves reflect in some sense the facts that Krile is almost literally a nepo baby woman in STEM who is barely older than her students, while Y'shtola learned her behaviors from her much older female mentor, a woman who hated Sharlayan academic culture so much she literally abandoned it to go live in a cave.

Or like, Alisaie! Fan jokes and meta frequently buy into her tendency to characterize the dynamic between her and Alphinaud as a jock/nerd, street savvy extrovert vs book smart introvert thing. Except, tragically, Alphinaud's highest stat is 100% Charisma and he absolutely pulled in his student days. All his greatest achievements are diplomatic, and he very easily develops strong friendships with people in every culture you learn about. Alisaie is the determined, sensitive genius who revolutionizes Eorzea by proving the tempered can be healed. She's just permanently carrying a chip on her shoulder that while she and her brother are remembered as the youngest students in Studium history, actually he got in six months before her, a fact pretty much no one else ever brings up once. She's constantly fuming over the fact that he was marginally better than her in certain specific ways in high school, and looking to differentiate them in ways that actually fail to credit her own obvious strengths and accomplishments. I think that's so fun! It's so juicy, and it's equally good for comedy or serious character studies.

Venat is a genuinely benevolent hero who has no compunction sacrificing lives for the greater good. Minfilia is kind and compassionate and clearly on some level actually buys into the narrative of her own unique moral authority. Ysayle is a revolutionary firebrand with almost no concern for the common man, whose death reflects her Javert-like inability to reconcile her own romantic belief in justice with the tragic ways her blinkered worldview (born largely of trauma) let her be easily co-opted by a violent system. But even people who like these characters rarely move past surface-level reads (people who think Venat is just an all-loving mommy figure make me want to fucking die). The fandom is allergic to drawing connections the game doesn't draw, and fails to recognize that FFXIV is a game where characters voice understandings of themselves and others that are wrong about as often as they're right.

You can already see the ways that women like Wuk Lamat and Cahciua and Sphene are getting flattened or losing their shading in fan reception and it's boring. Like I'm not even saying this because you should take female characters more seriously or something (though you should), I'm literally just bored to tears sometimes and if you guys turn Wuk Lamat into another Hot Dumb Jock Lady, I will combust.

[i-am-true-believer]

Hello again, sweet one, my late night scrollers, the early morning dreamers. I hope you're well, I hope today was better than yesterday.

I'm here to remind you that if there's an infinite number of universes, there's at least one where you are your comfort characters favorite person. They love and adore you for all your flaws and quirks and everything you hate about yourself, the same way you love all of their imperfections. There's a universe where they wait by the door for you every night, where they're your absolute best friend, where they take care of you and love you the way you should be loved.

You are so wonderful, did you know that? Every time you have a bad day, every time life tries to knock you down, you find the strength to get back up again. You keep going. Do you know how incredible that is? How proud your comfort character is of you for being able to do that? I'm so proud of you, I believe in you so much, and every day you make it through proves that I'm right to believe in you. We always knew you could do it, that you could make it to tomorrow.

I'll let you get back to your scrolling now, I bet you have so many stories just waiting for you, so many adventures and friendships to have. But before you go, I want to take a moment and remind you of something.

Anything that keeps you going, anything that makes the bad days better, anything that makes life even a little easier, is worth it. If fanfictions and comfort characters help you get through the day, then I hope you find the exact stories you need. Life is so hard and so scary, and sometimes it's easier to lose ourselves in the worlds of our comfort characters, and that's more than okay. Whatever keeps you going isn't anything to be ashamed of. Making it to tomorrow to read the next chapter of a fanfiction or a new edit of your comfort character is a valid reason to keep going.

I hope tomorrow is better than today, and that one day you won't need a reason to keep going, but for now, I'll give you this one. Your comfort character wants you to stay. They will always want you to stay. I want you to stay. I'm always here if anyone needs a friend.

Your comfort character believes in you, and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr who pops in every now and then to remind you that you are loved, you are enough, and you are worth it. You've got this sweet one, I know you do. Happy scrolling.

❤️💛True❤️💛

[vanessa-parker]

Hawks' Pretty Bird

Hi guys! This is my first story as to what I think being with Hawks is like! If you like it and want another chapter please let me know! It starts off pretty risky as that's how I think it would actually be lol

“Hey hottie”, you say landing after spotting the number 2 hero perched on a building. Hawks turns towards the sound an eyebrow raised “Jeez, way to make a guy blush, sweetheart. Not to sound cocky, but I take it you're a fan of mine.” He says with his signature grin. He notices the wings behind you are similar to his except for the color. Your wings are beautiful shades of blue. You blush as he stares “I'm guessing you have a bird mutation quirk like me?” You nod “I sure do! Except my feathers are prettier,” you say a hint of playfulness in your tone. Hawks can’t help but smirk “Well, aren't you a confident one. If you keep talking like that, you'll make me act a bit territorial and get possessive of my feathers.” You shrug “What can I say, I do think those eyes of yours are beautiful,” you say with a wink. Hawks laughs “Well, looks like we got a charmer on our hands. You keep up this flattery and I'll end up inviting you back to my place.” You grin back at the #2 hero “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do but I kinda wanna see this possession you have of your feathers.” Your heart is racing you’re usually not this bold but after your last relationship, you decide on a different approach. “Heh,” he laughs “careful what you wish for. But just a fair warning, once I lay a claim on something it's usually a done deal. You sure you can handle it?” You smirk and the man’s cockiness, trying not to lose your own you reply allowing your feathers to glide under his chin “Show me what you got bird boy” and with that, you launched yourself into the night sky.

“Oh man, you did not just call me "bird boy" and then fly off like that. You're going to regret that comment once I catch up to you.” He mumbled to himself Keigo's wings flap rapidly as he propels through the night sky, trying to keep up with the speed of your flight. He can't help but wear a competitive grin on his face as he chases after you. “Looks like we got ourselves a little speedster over here.” He says his tone teasing, you laugh once more “Come on #2 I thought you were the fastest hero” Keigo grins as you laugh, the competitive fire in his eyes growing stronger. He pushes himself harder, his wings beating fast as he catches up to you. “Oh ho, so now you're teasing me. I'll have you know I'm the number 2 hero, and I can prove it right now. You might be fast, but there's no one faster than me.” you suddenly stop facing him flapping your wings to keep you afloat you laugh as he crashes into you allowing you both to free fall. Keigo lets out a surprised yelp as you suddenly come to a halt, causing him to crash right into you. His eyes widen in shock as the two of you fall through the air. He quickly regains his composure, grabbing onto you to stop your descent. The thrill of the adrenaline rush was coursing through his body, but also he couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at being bested so easily. "What the hell was that for?" you laugh rolling out of Hawks's grasp and begin flying next to him poking at his side “I wanted to see how fast #2 was” Keigo rolled his eyes at your teasing, but he couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle. He continued to fly alongside you, his wings flapping swiftly through the night sky.

“Oh, so you chose the most dramatic way possible to test my speed, huh? You’re quite the mischievous one, aren’t you?”

“What can I say” Keigo chuckled at your response, a sly grin playing on his lips. He continued to fly alongside you, occasionally flicking his wing feathers in your direction to tease back. “You know, if you wanted to test my speed, we could have done something a bit less reckless. Like a race instead of a free-fall.” you giggle at the sensation of the feathers “I thought you’d like a challenge” He couldn't help but let out another chuckle as you giggled at the sensation of his feathers. He took a moment to glance over you, his gaze lingering on your form for a brief moment before returning his attention forward. “A challenge, huh? Well, I can’t deny that I do enjoy a little competition. But if I win, you owe me something special.” 

"You’re on" Keigo’s competitive spirit flared up at your acceptance of the challenge, a cocky smirk now plastered on his face. "That’s the spirit! You’re in for it now. The winner gets a special prize, deal?" "Deal race you back to your place" you laugh as you launch further into the sky Keigo let out a low chuckle at your quick exit, his eyes narrowing in focus on the challenge at hand. He pushed himself forward, his wings beating faster and stronger, propelling him forward through the night sky toward the direction of his home. He called out to you as he flew. "You’re gonna eat your words, sweetheart!" you laugh at his words, with his apartment in sight you dash towards the open window not seeing Hawks suddenly arms wrap around you as you crash land into the apartment. Keigo lets out a victorious chuckle as he wraps his arms around you, and crash landing together on the floor of his apartment. He pins you down, holding you in place. His breath comes in short pants as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looks down at you, a sly grin on his face. "Looks like I win." You blush at the position you’re in "Technically it was a tie"   Keigo lets out another chuckle, feeling your body beneath him. He shifts his weight on top of you, not bothering to release his grip just yet. "Tie, huh? I don’t remember agreeing to a tie. A deal is a deal, sweetheart. I think that means I get my prize now."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah yeah what is it?"

Keigo grins down at you, his eyes raking over your form. He continues to keep you pinned beneath him, savoring the moment. "Hmm, let's see... I do love the feeling of victory. So maybe I'll take some credit for the prize." He lowers his face closer to your ear, his breath sending a shiver up your spine. He whispers into your ear. "How about I claim you for tonight?"

[nocofamilyau]

I LOVE UR STUFF OHMYOGD IM UR BIGGEST FAN

1. since its summer do they go on family vacations...

2. how do mikes classmates/the other parentd react to him havinf 2 dads

3. can we see how/why noah and cody decided to adopt mike dave and raj.. like their upbringing..

They don’t do anything too elaborate, maybe the occasional day trip to the woodsy area/lake near where they live, simple lil trips like that, but they’re saving proper vacations for when the boys are all a lil older and money is way easier to keep (that and travelling with a baby, a kid who absolutely loses it at the drop of a hat and another kid who has a complex mental condition kinda sounds like hell, don’t think anyone would come out of that experience happy)

Yea, most of em are cool with it, I mean they live in Canada where they’re much more accepting, they just treat Mike and his parents like any other family (shit, I think some of Mike’s classmates might also have gay parents too…)

This is kinda harder to answer, but you'd think that Noah and Cody (especially Noah) wouldn't really be the type of people to want kids, but plot/au needs to happen so for the sake of it,, I'd say for both they just felt it was just the next natural step in life (it'd also give them something else to focus on instead of the crushing internal turmoil that C-list stardom during your youth brings you). To get more specific, Noah probably already thought about wanting kids when he was still with Emma (and he'd probably be more used to it given he lived with several older siblings, and possibly dealt with multiple younger cousins, nephews and nieces at it too) while Cody would probably want to prove to himself that he's much more capable than his parents (particularly his father) in terms of loving something.

Besides, most of their time as parents has boiled down to 'fuck it, guess we'll do this now'. Like I mentioned this before, but they only wanted to adopt one kid and keep it at one kid in the beginning. And while they (mainly Noah) both wanted kids, it does make sense that they chose to adopt an older kid than raise them right from the start. Like yea this kid may have mental problems but at least we won't have to deal with sleepless nights and no time to ourselves and constant screaming and crying and shitty diapers and all that stuff (and then fucking Dave comes along and just throws a massive curveball into that plan but they got through it the best they could, so much so that they're confident enough to handle ANOTHER baby, or whatever comes over parents to make them want another kid)

[matan4il]

Can't stop thinking about that poor French girl. Most of my friends didn't even have their periods at 12. We have been screaming ourselves HOARSE for months that "globalize the intifada" is going to come back to bite us...and now it's beginning to. They didn't listen to us then and they won't now. Instead, they let a child pay the price for the crime of being Jewish.

I remember back in early April I walked by a protest and I told a cop there what the phrase meant. She didn't even deign to look at me, instead she told me where I could counter-protest. That is not what I was asking about. No one is protecting us, yet they wonder why we feel safer and have an attachment to our home.

I haven't been able to visit home since the war started, I'll be there Sunday finally. And I can guarantee that I will be moving comfortable there, despite my half baked plan and no official place to stay.

I just don't know what we are supposed to be doing anymore. עד מתי??????

I can't stop thinking about that girl either.

I can't stop thinking about what it means that she knew she wasn't safe telling her boyfriend at the time that she's Jewish. I can't stop thinking about the fact that she was right, as he proved. I can't stop thinking about the kind of environment she grew up in, where she had grown so accustomed to antisemitic attitudes being the rule, that she didn't see that guy's antisemitism for the red flag that it is, and didn't stay away from him.

And I wanna make it clear, it is ABHORRENT that Jews should have to stop and consider just how much they're going to lose out on socially because of antisemitism. But it IS hard to constantly lose and miss out and be depraved of social rewards that others get just because you're Jewish, especially when you're 12 years old. So this responsibility lies on the hellish environments that push Jews to have to decide between being included and being safe.

That the specific way that this girl's abusers were violent with her for her Jewishness was sexual, committed by at least one person she intimately trusted, done as a group, and (from what I've gathered) in public, just makes the whole thing even worse, and I cannot stop grieving what was taken away from her, and what she will have to deal with for the rest of her life.

And I've heard from multiple sources that the perpetrators' phones had anti-Israel material on them. It was easy to guess, but it's still chilling to have that confirmed.

I am SO sorry that you had that experience of a cop not giving a damn about our safety as Jews. But yes, we absolutely cannot rely on anyone else for our protection, it's a part of why we need Israel. And there's only one place in the world where we can be safely and effortlessly ourselves as Jews. I'm so glad for you that you're coming home, and I also hope that if fellow Israelis see this, that maybe they can reach out and help, too.

אם יש כאן במקרה ישראלים, השמיעו קול!

As for what we can do, we can continue to live even when they don't want us to, we can go on supporting each other, we can thrive even when they think they've taken that option from us, we absolutely should educate ourselves continuously when our haters are relying on people's ignorance, and we must speak up where and how we can. Even if our reach is small, it's better than being silent. Not to mention, sometimes one person listening to you, if they're the right one, can make a much bigger difference than we could imagine.

I'm sending you lots of hugs and love! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[dollypopup]

"Colin didn't do enough to earn/deserve Penelope!"

but that's the rub, isn't it? he didn't have to. that's why people are so mad. He didn't have to, and he never had to

Because what this season proves is that love isn't about what we deserve. That love cannot be earned. Viewing love in such light makes it conditional- a matter of transaction. That if we simply do enough, if we humble ourselves, if we are ground down to humility, surely we will be cared for. That love can be a matter of groveling, or suffering, is antithetical to what it truly is. It is such an incredibly puritanical, highly Catholic perspective on it. That Colin has fallen from grace with what he said at the end of Season 2, and thus must now repent. Must have adequate penance.

Who determines what would have been enough, in such circumstances? What would be enough from such a puritanical viewpoint to garner forgiveness? When Colin had history of being soft and tender with Penelope- writing her letters, complimenting her, finding her in ballrooms, laughing at her jokes and making her laugh in turn, defending her- would it truly appease us to have the shape of their lovestory form around the skin of suffering? Of coming to hands and knees in a plead for mercy?

No.

Penelope informs that she's hurt by his comments, and Colin sought to soothe that pain without her demanding it of him. That is love. Penelope reveals the ache of being unwanted and how it affects her self worth, and Colin says 'I will help you see yourself the way I see you', because he has always found her wonderful. That is love. Colin comes to Penelope and reveals that he appreciates her, that he does not want to lose her, and requests a chance to prove that, and she not only accepts, but finds relief in doing so. That's love. Penelope feels braver because Colin thinks she already is. That's love. Colin feels unseen but Penelope sees him. That's love. Penelope asks Colin to kiss her with no expectations of more, and he tenderly touches her face and dreams and dreams and dreams of that moment where she put her heart in his hands. That's love. Colin runs after her carriage and has no idea she harbors affection for him when he spills his own heart open, asking her to choose him, and when she says they're friends, he backs off. That's love. Penelope says she wants to be more than friends, and they fall headfirst into each other. That's love. Colin asks Penelope for her permission to provide pleasure for her, and in doing so, finds pleasure himself. That's love, that's love, that's love.

It has never been about 'deserving'. It has only ever been about opening themselves up to the possibility. Colin and Penelope said: I know you're scared, I know it's scary, but it's worth it. I adore you. Take my hand. Stand with me in corners and have a good time. Crack silly jokes with me. Let's eat cake. Walk with me. Talk to me of matters so foolish, it would make you blush to do so with someone else, I want to listen. I accept you. I see you. Love is not owed, earned- but given. Shared freely. Without expectation. Without condition. With an open hand and heart.

They said: You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Nicola was right. Season 3 is about romance.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION *  assorted dialogue from season 3 of the show, adjust as necessary

everybody knew it, and nobody came forward.

you were in the car?

why didn't you just tell the police?

so let me get this straight. you decide to become one of them.

revenge is best served cold.

i get one phone call, right?

one must lie in the bed one has made.

you all right? don't let him get to you like that.

i was scared. and i still am. don't tell anyone, okay?

this wasn't just a murder.

don't touch me.

is this some kind of convention?

i guess i realized it's nice to see eye to eye with someone.

i get the impression that's a little tough for you.

i think we look for the differences in each other to prove that we're not alone.

you know, i hate it when he does that.

you know i could do this for you.

that had to be scary, huh?

i didn't have time to be scared.

deep down we're all narcissists.

what attracts us the most is ourselves.

is that who i think it is?

i guess clothes do make the man.

the only thing between me and a wardrobe like this is a few extra zeros on my paycheck.

this... this one just felt different.

it's not fake blood. it's human.

you killed her.

you missed me by a mile.

tell me something i don't know.

in fourth grade, i dropped out of karate class because a kid half my size made me cry.

don't insult me. luck is for those without skill.

we're gonna have to dismantle this piece by piece.

i think i can handle this.

we're up in a tree, and you're quoting poe.

you are what you throw away.

heard you got to be a superhero today.

you're my hero, [name].

i like those odds.

that's for you to find out.

if you handle them correctly, snakes are harmless.

have you ever seen anything like this before?

you don't just spontaneously develop a fatal head wound.

can you prove that?

i'm so tired of hearing that. i've heard it a million times.

you gotta get a girlfriend.

i thought we had a relationship!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

the best intentions are fraught with disappointment.

i can take care of this myself.

i'm just repeating what i've heard.

you're a good listener.

you already seem to know the answers to your questions.

i'm losing my balance.

there's a sucker born every minute.

you know, guys don't like that.

what happened to your enthusiasm?

what do you think caused these marks?

i wasn't being rude. i was being curt.

i like silent movies.

you sure you don't want me to do this?

it's physically impossible to absorb a fatal dose of cocaine through the penis.

we have a bigger problem than we thought we did.

i'm not looking at you.

the schedule says you're off tonight.

would you like to have dinner with me?

let's have dinner. let's see what happens.

by the time you figure it out, it really could be too late.

i wish you had come to me sooner.

i'm not going with you.