#He is just a fictional character. but I feel very invalidated every time they do whatever they want with his orientation

[apollos-favorite-child]

ooc post abt some drama

So I’m pretty sure everyone has either interacted with @/demigod-jack-hearth or at least seen some of the posts that were made abt his Circe au. I’ve been trying to keep track of everyone’s thoughts on this (namely @unhinged-waterlilly and @if-chaos-was-a-boy who both have really helpful posts about it) and since I’m capable of producing coherent thoughts every once in a while, I thought I would share my thoughts on all of this.

So I should probably start with the AU, which really was the cause of a lot of this chaos. So first of all, making it in the first place was a very interesting choice. I’m not sure if Jack based it more off the odyssey or the epic musical, but either way it’s just a very weird decision. I understand people like to project on their character which makes sense, but Jack never mentioned being r@ped. (And I hope he never was) but it feels like if he was comfortable enough to make that part of an AU, he would’ve probably mentioned it one of the times he was trying to defend himself.

I understand that HE might’ve thought it was a fine change to make since he was comfortable with it, but I’ve seen a handful of people saying it made them uncomfortable. I’m aware it’s not his job to make sure everyone is happy, but the whole AU was really unnecessary knowing it could’ve made someone uncomfortable.

People even went to Jack saying they were v!ctims and they didn’t like his AU, and he basically told them to fuck off, without ANY condolences or apologies to the people for having to go through that. Those people shared their experiences and he just didn’t care.

And YES Odysseus is a fictional character, but his trauma is still basically being disrespected. I’ve seen a couple of people saying other are being dramatic since they are angry about him being invalidated, but it makes sense to me why they would be angry.

One anon (who was a sa victim of I remember right) came to Jack being rude, and SO many people have been rude to this anon, calling them either rude or dramatic, but honestly I think they were just really angry about what Jack had done (which is perfectly understandable) and they didn’t really think or bother to be polite when they sent that. They made a mistake too, but I don’t think jacks response was any better.

And once he realized that he was wrong (after having to be confronted by multiple people) he NEVER apologized. The words “I’m sorry” were not on a single one of his posts. He basically was just trying and failing to defend himself. This all could’ve been solved much quicker with a simple apology, but he’s more concerned with making sure everyone likes him and that he’s right so he doesn’t have to deal with any guilt.

And now he’s apparently disappeared and has been self harming and just struggling a lot. But you want to know what I find interesting? Jack never mentioned having a boyfriend, and now Fred has taken control of his account, responding to almost everyone and trying to defend Jack. I might be the only one, but I did NOT understand how to use tumblr at first, and it took me a while until I even learned how to reblog people and tag stuff. Even once I did learn how to tag people, I wasn’t tagging 20+ people on every post like Jack does. Another interesting thing is that the blog said something along the lines of “I didn’t mean to blah blah blah” and sounded like it was Jack defending himself, but then the message ended with -Freddy

If I was Fred, I would’ve made ONE post explaining why Jack disappeared, and not mentioning any of the sh or breakdowns. He could’ve made a post without mentioning all of that and disrespecting jacks privacy. Instead, he’s been responding to every person and mostly trying to defend Jack in every one of them. He also said he locked Jack out of his tumblr account, which you LITERALLY CANNOT DO unless he took away Jacks phone, which just seems really controlling, even if he did think it was best for Jack. So yes, this is me saying that I don’t think Fred is real. Especially since Jack is a ROLEPLAYER, and we are completely used to acting like different people.

Going back to the self-harm topic, I think that parts very weird as well. He’s made self harm jokes, and while I know perfectly well people can use humor as a coping mechanism, that’s just another really insensitive thing to do. It just doesn’t really make sense to me how you can make self harm jokes one week and then let your boyfriend tell a bunch of people on the internet you’ve been trying to hurt yourself.

Overall I think this spiraled into a lot more than it should’ve been, and this all wouldn’t have happened if he had just apologized, or just never have made that AU.

jacks tag list- @zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite

@fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son

@bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial

@reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia

@that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass

@kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath

@itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena

@sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @thedaughter-of-death @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan

@demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos

@creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes

[thearoaceshark]

[willalove75]

stop simping over women and pay attention to your husband. You clearly made your choice to be with a man and have his child rather than choose a woman. You bisexual women don’t get to exist in lesbian spaces when you lean towards men. Unless your husband lets to you step out on your marriage or lets you have delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man. You bisexual women who lean more towards men or are with men have no right to be in sapphic or lesbian spaces. And lady d is a lesbian so as if she would be with someone who let a man touch them let alone knock them up.

Oh, I'm sorry, did my husband tell you that I'm not giving him enough attention? Didn't think so.

Yes, I made a choice to be with him, because I fell in love with him. Because he's my best friend and my biggest supporter in everything I do (yes, he even supports my writing and fics and he tells me often how proud he is of me). I did not chose him because he's a man. Truthfully, his gender had absolutely nothing to do with why I married him. I just happened to fall in love with and marry a man, but that does NOT make me any less of a bisexual woman.

"You bisexual women..." and people question whether or not bi-erasure is a thing, meanwhile, this entire ask is such a great example of just that😒

"delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man." is truly offensive to not only every bi woman who has been with a man, but any woman who has. What about the lesbians that got pregnant by men?? Because this may come as a shock to you, but it does happen. It may not happen a lot or often, but it does. Does that mean that those women are "tainted" or "ruined" also??? No it fucking doesn't, you idiot.

It really makes me laugh when people try and use a fictional character to make a real life argument. You want to know why? BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!!! So honestly, you have absolutely no idea if that's true or not because she's a fake fucking character from a video game. Are you also this upset at the fic writers who make her trans??? Or what about fic writers that make Alcina's partner trans??? Or are you just that much of biphobic person and this is the hill you're choosing to die on?? Either way, you're an actual bigot.

This post just SCREAMS biphobia and bi-erasure and it's fucking gross. You are so very obviously projecting your own issues and insecurities in this and honestly I would be embarrassed if I were you. Because not a single thing you said is true AT ALL or holds any merit.

Bisexual women who lean towards men or who are with men ABSOLUTELY do belong in those spaces. Just because a bisexual woman is married/with a man or leans towards men does not discredit or change their sexuality. No bi person automatically becomes straight if they date/marry the opposite gender or become gay/lesbian if they date/marry the same gender. It's called BIsexual. More than one gender. You do not get to invalidate every bi person with this shitty (and inherently wrong) opinion.

I know you wrote this trying to get a rise out of me, and congratulations because you succeeded. But I also know that people like you leave messages like this because they feel so broken and hurt and shitty that they want others to feel like that too. Unfortunately for you, I grew up in the era that birthed anonymous hate messages so you'll have to try harder next time. Not only that, but I am proud and confident in who I am and no pathetic anonymous (especially anonymous, you pussy) message is going to shake me.

I am a proud bisexual woman. I am proud to be married to my husband. I am proud that I will soon be the mother of a little boy who I will raise to be a much better person than you'll ever be. I am proud of what I've written and no, I will not stop.

[lemongrablothbrok]

Was watching my favorite movie, Almost Famous, like a week or two ago. First of all, I'd just like to say, I could blog about this movie all fucking day, every fucking day, and intend to eventually (because I'm a masochist and like a challenge, damnit) do a post on every single Led Zeppelin reference that I could find in the movie (and there. Are. A lot. Probably literally more than there is of any other band or artist. For realsies), as well as an entire post of its own doing a character analysis of Vic, the Led Zeppelin fan (because I feel like he matters a lot more than his maybe two minutes of total screentime might suggest). But anyway...

So, I'm watching the director's cut, like I usually do (the theatrical cut just doesn't do it for me anymore), and there's one scene that (I'm pretty sure?) didn't make it into the regular cut of the film, but...like...

So, it's near the end of the movie, and Russell, the lead guitarist of the fictional band Stillwater, is having a conversation with the band's lead singer, Jeff, after butting heads with him for the entire movie and both of them coming to terms with the fact that...well...they don't like each other very much. And they're discussing whether it really matters if they like each other or not, and I think it's Jeff who says something like he thinks them liking each other might have been a detriment to the band, if anything, and how he's heard that all of the great duos hate each other or don't like each other or don't get along or whatever. Which, you know, cool, is true for maybe some of the most highly regarded rock groups (the Davies brothers in The Kinks, Joey Ramone and Johnny Ramone, and even Lennon and McCartney by the time The Beatles ended), clearly not all of them, though, but you know, hyperbole and all that. The real kicker, though? The fucking irony in that assertion, that none of the great duos in music get along? You know what song is playing in the background while they're talking about this?

"The [motherfucking] Rain Song", that's what. Like...uh...Jeff...you hear that song that's playing right now? Actually, probably not, since it might not be playing in-universe at that moment, though in Almost Famous it's sometimes hard to tell the diagetic (sp?) from non-diagetic music. But...like..."The Rain Song" is playing. Your argument is invalid, Jeff. Do you have any idea. Any fucking idea, Jeff, how much the duo responsible for that song (both in the writing and, quite possibly, the subject matter itself) don't hate each other? Like, pretty much the polar opposite of hate each other? Like, whether or not you believe that Page and Plant ever touched each other's no-no bits, what's not really up for debate is that those two men love each other like woah, whatever the nature of that love may be, doesn't matter, they are, for all intents and purposes, fucking married, they've both said so themselves. Yes, even James Patrick "No-Homo" Page.

I think Cameron Crowe definitely did that on purpose, and I appreciate the irony in the juxtaposition between the dialogue and the background music, is I guess what I'm saying. Listen, he was given special permission from the guys themselves to use a handful of Led Zeppelin's songs in his movie, he wasn't just going to slap them on any old scene all willy-nilly.

[gentil-minou]

Dang, I didn't realize you stopped writing ML analysis because some dweebs were raining on your parade and making fun of it. You wrote some of the best stuff looking at ML and I'm sorry jerks ruined that for you. Both you and this fandom have been robbed of something great because some people just can't let other enjoy things.

i mean there are a lot of reasons, both personal and fandom related. My work is very demanding, I had some traumatic shit that happened a few months ago I'm still processing, and my interests in fandoms go up and down over time, like right now it's pretty clear to see i'm more active in other fandoms besides ML.

But honestly the awful way the fans have been acting towards this season, not just in the way they rain on everyone's parade but also the way the bible and leaks have spread so far and wide. While that isn't the fandom's fault persay it's still awful. the fun of theorizing is gone when a bunch of people know what's going to happen, so naturally i just kinda stopped (then all the broadcasting bs that always bothers me ugh)

But I think the one thing this fandom hasn't seemed to realize is that it takes a lot of effort to write about this show, especially if you're an adult or a student who has other things going on. It's easy to leave a comment that hates on the analyses they write, and it's also easy for it to feel like a personal attack.

Think of it this way, so many people relate to Adrien and Mari, in so many ways. They can see themselves in them, even their faults and mistakes mean something. It feels incredibly validating for someone to be able to see that.

Take my Adrien has depression posts for example. Because I've had depression since I was younger than him and did a lot of the same masking behaviors he does, it meant so much to me. Here was a character who seemed to be going through what I was at the time and still struggle with today. It was so wonderful to see on screen because it felt like I was finally being seen. Or another example would be Mari's anxiety and ADHD which I also relate to so much, especially when it causes her to make some mistakes or handle things in the wrong way. It's classing anxiety-avoidance cycles, and seeing it on screen made me feel like I wasn't so alone. And I am sure so many other people felt the same way

And then there are people who go and say awful things about these characters on a post where you express those feelings. How Adrien is being a whiney baby or whatever bs they say, how his actions are a sign of him being selfish instead of all of the trauma and neglect he's experienced. Or how Mari's complex thinking patterns and behavior are relegated down to her being a stalker or a mary sue or what have you, once again completely ignoring the core complexity of her character as just a normal girl who was forced essentially to be a superhero. The pressures of which would be tremendous on anyone let alone someone with clear ND traits and traumatic experiences.

And people insult those fictional characters, so quickly and easily, without realizing the very real damage they are doing to the very real people who see themselves in them. I've talked so much about why I love sentiadrien because i can see some of my struggles in that storyline, and then to have people say that no it doesn't matter because my experiences aren't as important? that it's invalid because there's only one right way to experience trauma? that im wrong for finding solace in it? it's awful, and it puts me down.

i shouldnt be feeling invalidated when im watching my comfort show, i shouldn't spend days writing very careful posts only to get them shat on by insensitive comments. as much as i want to ignore them and focus on the good i do and the fun i get from it, it still feels like a stab through the chest every time.

and then there are the people who say i'm an awful therapist because they don't agree with my analyses. that's the worst, and while i won't go into details about why this particular statement brings me so much pain, i just need folks to understand that it's genuinely one of the worst insults i've ever had. and if everytime i write something i have second guess myself, and then second guess if i even have the skill and talent for the field i'm in, it just becomes a horrible spiral. people make these comments like they're the easiest thing in the world to say and it just boggles my mind, because although they may have forgotten their stupid little tag i certainly haven't. i hold them deep in that dark part of my brain where the whispers are loudest and hardest to control.

ultimately, the last few months i wanted to remind myself why i like this show and this website in the first place, and that i'm doing it for me. life is hard enough, if i can't have fun in the one place i can control then what's the point? so i will control my own experiences within this fandom, even if other's want to rain on it

[sweetandsavageautistic]

(CW: Exhaustion rant, feeling invalidated, dysfunctional family, guilt-tripping)

I’ve been trying to stick to a schedule for a voice-acting project that I’m behind on and I’m starting to follow it; while I was editing up the part I planned to get done and send in today, my dad told me to watch the dog. I told him I was busy and he got mad at me, saying I don’t help around the house. He recognizes that the schedule I’m setting is something, but he always follows it up with “but....” I kind of feel like things I do have a tendency to fall on the back burner in favor of helping the family, but what if I put a dish in the wrong spot? What if I can’t fit something somewhere?

I’m tired of them asking me if I can do something, but having it not really be a question because there’s apparently a right answer.

I’m tired of them asking me if I want to do something and me saying no, then them asking me why not and when I answer, they get upset.

I’m tired of asking someone to go somewhere else to give me alone time to give me space for my mental health, realizing it may be a bit unreasonable, and then asking this instead:

[Photo ID: Text message in green saying “At the very least, can you stay there until about at least 10:30/10:45 or so, strongly preferably the latter? I’m not someone who can decompress quickly.

Text message in white, denoting a response from someone else, saying “Probably, but please think would you do that for me?”

Text message in green from the phone owner saying “So is that a yes or no?”

Text message in white, denoting a response from someone else, saying “I’m leaving soon but that’s mean Ill either be back at 10:30 or later.”

Text message in white, denoting a response from someone else, saying “But im upset you would ask that but no do that for me” Photo ID end]

I’m tired of confronting them about that and telling them it felt guilt-trippy only for them to turn it around and tell me that me telling them that something is for my mental health is the ultimate guilt-tripping phrase because it places the responsibility of someone’s mental health on another person.

I’m tired of someone in my family asking me how I am and my gut response being “what do you want?” because I’m so used to that being the reason they say hi to me.

I’m tired of my family seeing me as selfish for not wanting to spend time with them instead of trying to talk to me about why I feel that way.

I’m tired of my family getting upset at me for my chronic escapism instead of trying to talk to me about why it’s happening so much.

I’m tired of my twin sister micromanaging me on outings and vacations.

I’m tired of being told things like I can’t request songs like Solovey by go_a or songs from Ride the Cyclone on a song request sheet at a wedding because apparently I’m only supposed to request “basic wedding songs.”

I’m tired of feeling like I don’t know who I am some days and instead I just borrow who I am from fictional characters to make up for what social skills classes stole from me.

I’m tired of sacrificing my sleep schedule because it’s quieter at night and no one is awake to tell me what to do.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one in the house without any sense of power or control.

I’m tired of feeling so out of place at parties. 

I’m tired of feeling like the tolerated friend, the one no one wants to actually form a close bond with, just to casually talk with.

I’m tired of feeling like I need to bottle up my emotions and my anger because I’m scared of confrontation.

I’m tired of people trying to push against any boundaries I may have set.

I’m tired of relying on allowance as my only source of income: If you want me to commission some writing, this exists. Please help me; I’m tired of relying solely on my parents for money: https://www.fiverr.com/lydialuna?up_rollout=true

I’m tired of feeling like every little mistake is going to make them upset and make them cut my allowance again.

I’m just.....tired....

[osiris-iii-bc]

I saw a confession from one of the Ghost blogs I follow (I don't wanna mention because of anonimity, but you probably know who) that really struck a nerve with me, at first it angered me for no reason because it seemed really self-centered and obsessive for talking about how much Papa III meant to them, but now...I kind of agree with it, since I'm also a huge Terzo enthusiast.

It led me on a tirade thinking about fictional/comfort characters, about how It’s fun to feel really passionate about something, even if it's fictional. 

Music and characters have always been what has made people most happy, they make people feel. 

And sometimes it’s painful, it's escapism and it can't be always healthy...but it’s still FEELING.

I realized how it can be different amounts of deep for different people, and how it doesn’t have to mean the same for everyone...

It's complex, I know lol

Every vision and reaction is self-centered. The way we understand things said by someone else, the way we perceive reality, the meaning we attribute to an action, a lyric, a gaze in our direction… the entire way we see the world is deeply self-centered and influenced by our experience and emotions. However, it has to be this way; it is what makes our lifetime what it is. This is especially true with art and music, where the vision of a single person meets thousands of eyes and ears and, most importantly, feelings. Just like reading a book and finding that one character that makes you say, “Oh, that’s me! It is about me!” of course it is not, but that is the contact point where you find what you needed from that reading.

TF himself has a self-centered vision of his own characters, he’s not objective. He has said many times he hates them because they got characteristics he wanted to have, and killing and ridiculing them is probably just his way to cope with his insecurities. We do the same with them… to me, Terzo embodies the darkness, the pain, and loneliness I used to feel years ago. Some of my fanfics are deeply autobiographical; I made him a metaphor, the shell filled with my vision and experiences because that is what I need from him.

I totally understand people saddened by the treatment of the Papas after their time on stage, making them symbols and anchors to go through their life… we are currently living in a hell of a historical period where we, who more and who less, fear for our future and other people’s future we don’t even know. It is the point where we desperately need something to hold on to, but it is very important to understand that the power and meaning of our idols are the ones we give them. It comes from our minds and hearts, not others. No one can invalidate our vision.

[ykaaaras]

The Preacher: Chapter 2

Pairing: DAMIANO DAVID x fictional female insert

Chapter summary: Medusa with Damiano are preparing for the funeral. Medusa encounters an unpleasant surprise.

Content: angst, priest Damiano David, supernatural, hurt/comfort, fluff, funeral, demon character, anxiety, fear

Word count: 9k

Warnings: self-loathing, a lot of self-loathing, mention of homicide

After many physical and psychological procedures at the hospital, Medusa finally got better. She still felt the pain in her sides and the nightmares still tortured her, she felt unbearable self-loathing, and honestly, every day was painful. However, she already could have been released from the hospital. After caring, of course. She talked a lot about what happened with Victoria, Ethan, and Damiano, and even though it made her realize things better, she still couldn’t feel full. She felt like an invalid, a criminal. Which at casual circumstances would be logical, it would be the truth. However, Damiano thought differently, he was sure that he can forgive Medusa her sin. The possession was actually serious, Medusa was completely weak-willing during its process.

While Medusa was still at the hospital, but was ready to be released, she sat on her bed and looked at one point somewhere in the ward’s corner. A strange feeling it was, like being let out of prison when your sins are forgiven, even though you know yourself that it isn’t right. Medusa felt a tear dropping down her cheek. She will come back to life, and what then? She will meet her sister, and what she’ll say to her? Sibyl will probably never forgive her, and Medusa clearly understood why. Medusa wouldn’t forgive such a thing too. She left Sibyl an orphan just because of her stupid imprudence. She swiped tears running down her cheeks. And why did all this shit have to happen to her? She didn’t do anything after all, besides that read that fucking book. Medusa pinched her wrist. Fool, she thought at herself.

She was sitting quietly when Victoria came to the ward. She wore a suit pans, which hugged her torso very pretty, and that white doctor’s robe. She watched how Medusa cried for a moment, then she noticed that Medusa was pinching her wrists.

“Come on, stop doing that,” Victoria got slightly angry. “We talked about this, I said to you that self-harm isn’t an escape. You’ll only feel worse.”

Medusa slowly pulled her fingers away from her wrist. Maybe, she would like to say sorry, but she didn’t say anything. She talked with Victoria a lot. About how she feels every day and Victoria prescribed her a medicine about which Medusa didn’t hear anything. She didn’t process her memories overall, everything now was blurry and those people only helped her to remember only what feeling that could be and a few facts about her past. Sleeping was hard, she was afraid to fall asleep because nightmares seemed too realistic. She wanted that Damiano would be there when she sleeps, but he often was somewhere away and Medusa most of her free time used to spend with Thomas. He used to come to her after his lectures and they used to talk about the subtleties of medicine, which Medusa honestly didn’t understand fully, but listening to it was way better than suffocating in her self-loathing and horror.

Victoria’s gaze got a little bit gentler. It seemed like she understood Medusa. Victoria slightly tilted her head.

“The funeral of your loved ones are already prepared. Would you like to attend?” she asked while coming closer to Medusa and sitting near her. “Completely understandable if not.”

Medusa shrugged. Wouldn’t attend her own parents’ and friends’ funerals would be more than disrespectful already because in the sight of Sibyl. However, Medusa didn’t want, if she’ll see dead ones, she’ll probably have a panic attack. She’ll probably start to puke or start crying loudly, distracting the mourners and paying everyone’s attention to herself. No one wants to comfort criminals. No one wants to see how criminals mourn their own victims.

“Which is better?” whispered her. “I don’t know.”

Victoria put her palm on Medusa’s shoulder and patted gently.

“Think about it, Medusa. Damiano will conduct the funeral.”

Medusa frowned. It was even worse. She really will start to wail. She felt the storm of feeling approaching already. She felt sick in her stomach. But she couldn’t not attend, and she knew that, she knew that she’ll attend. Damiano would want it. Medusa nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

She wanted Victoria to go away because she felt the pressure to think fast when Victoria was near. Victoria stood up. She very squeezed Medusa’s shoulder very gently.

“Take your time. It is still a little bit of time,” it seemed like Victoria did read Medusa’s mind.

She walked away and closed the door behind her. Medusa felt like she was in a cage. Even though Victoria let her think as much as she needs, Medusa still felt like a caught animal, which is fed vegetables by force. But she deserved it. Coercion. She had to suffer for what she did. It was her provision to herself, she was convinced that did a deadly sin and if she won’t go to jail in this life, she’ll go to hell after death. She was so scared. And in general, every step felt like a sin, even eating was hard, Medusa thought that she didn’t deserve it at all. The only thing that helped a bit was that she could have confessed her sins to Damiano a little bit. But she knew that even that was some kind of wrong because she realized that she is attracted to Damiano. He was a priest, Medusa shouldn’t have even a little bit of those thoughts she had.

Sometimes she still hears the creature from behind the nightstand. However, it never crawls out and Medusa was scared of searching for it, she got used to the sound. It could have been some dead patient’s ghost and she didn’t want to see a corpse at all, or it could have been a doppelgänger developed from a dead baby, but Medusa couldn’t imagine what a baby would do in an adult’s psych ward. Maybe some mother hold them before their death. Medusa got cold from such thoughts. Earlier before everything she really would be interested in what is hiding there. Now she didn’t even intend to look for that creature and she hoped that it won’t follow her after she leaves the hospital. It used to happen with others, they would follow Medusa from an old, wooded cemeteries in which she used to wander with her friends. And then they haunted Medusa everywhere she goes, even at home, till she used to start losing her mind. The ghosts used to get bored then, and they didn’t like her anymore because she was always angry.

Then will those funerals be, Medusa thought, Victoria hasn’t said that. Soon she’ll be released, she wonders who will take her. Medusa squirmed in her position and took a peek at her little suitcase. Where will she live? Maybe she’ll go to a crisis center, an orphanage or a prison? All of these options seemed terrible. Where does Sibyl live? Medusa curled up, with their grandparents probably, but they would never take Medusa to live together with them, not after what she did to her parents. They probably renounced her already anyway. Medusa left a person without a place, without an entity, without an insides. She was nothing. The idea of human. The idea without meaning.

A girl closed her eyes. The darkness stood in front of her eyes, the emptiness. Medusa’s mind learned to block horrible images from her parents’ and friends’ massacre and it usually sneaked out through her nightmares while she was asleep. Probably because then she hadn’t any will to resist. She squeezed her eyelids heavily, she heard the scratching from behind the nightstand. Just she would go out of here sooner to a place where she could calm down a little bit, somewhere where wasn’t interesting for supernatural creatures, for example… Medusa didn’t know where such a place could be, those creatures like whatever.

Suddenly someone entered the ward. Medusa rushed to open her eyes. She saw Thomas entering the door. She smiled crookedly. Will he take her somewhere? Tomas took a look at Medusa’s suitcase.

“Take your things. It’s time to go,” he smiled in a friendly, gentle way.

Medusa lifted her eyes to him. Her eyelids suddenly felt hard, she felt tired and very heavy.

“Where will we go?” asked her. The anxiety rushed in her body, where did he intend to take her for real? Medusa was sure that not to his own home. Even though she thought that it would be really nice. Living with Thomas would be a God’s grace to such a monster like Medusa.

Thomas noticed that Medusa wasn’t moving from her position. She sat like she was stuck in her bed.

“Should I take your suitcase?” asked him while laughing quietly.

Thomas was nice. He acted friendly with Medusa. It was understandable that the others were kind of polite, they were working with her health, but Thomas didn’t do that. It wasn’t important to him that Medusa did so much damage. He still willingly communicated with her and even once said that he likes Medusa’s personality, which Medusa hadn’t really believed. She just thought that he considers her as his research object for studies to some project about which he never told Medusa.

“Not needed,” Medusa moved finally. “I’ll take it myself,” she stood up and went to take her suitcase. It was quite heavy almost like her eyelids. And Medusa regretted not letting Thomas carry it, for a second.

Thomas with suspicious disbelief looked at Medusa.

“You sure about that?”

Medusa nodded and lifted her belongings. They came out of the ward and Thomas closed the door behind them.

“Come,” said him, going through the hallway.

Medusa stopped again. She put her suitcase on the floor. She felt stupid and probably annoyed Thomas by not moving fast enough. Thomas turned around, and surprise appeared on his face. Medusa’s stare at him became scared and asking.

“Where?” asked.

Thomas noticed that Medusa was scared. His facial expression became comforting. Medusa stood and was looking at him, her eyes got wet again. Thomas get why she was acting like that, he saw that as a completely natural thing, he never condemned Medusa and didn’t know why even himself.

“It’s okay, Medusa,” he said gently. “We are going to the sacristy of the basilica, to Damiano.”

Medusa’s eyes got wide for a second. To the church? To Damiano? So suddenly she didn’t know how to act. Sometimes Damiano used to visit her, however, he usually was somewhere else and Medusa, of course, understood that probably he was at mass or at some kind of exorcism process. However, now they’ll meet in freedom, and he’ll conduct the funerals and… Then what? She didn’t want them to separate, even though Medusa knew that she always could meet him at the church, but her stupid feelings wouldn’t be satisfied. And in general, Medusa was a little bit scared of the churches. She wanted that, exactly him, Damiano would stay. She could not visit Victoria, could not talk to Ethan, and don’t spend time with Thomas, but being without Damiano she wouldn’t manage.

“Give that case to me,” suddenly Thomas insisted on taking Medusa’s suitcase. When he took it, Medusa felt weird, she didn’t think that she deserves help. Dragging things is suffering since childhood, no one wants to do it by themselves.

Medusa was following Thomas. Just coming out of the building into fresh air Medusa immediately felt the wind. The whole week was rainy and the other probably will be the same, so the funeral has foreseen gloomy and rainy as well. They have foreseen really gloomy, more gloomy than it already was. Thomas put things into the car’s trunk.

“You can drive?” curiously asked Meduza, because she didn’t wanna that Thomas would think that she was cocky and doesn’t want to talk with him. All the time while they were going through the hallway, neither Medusa nor Thomas, haven’t said a word. She wasn’t sure why he should think that, but she tried to convince herself that probably because he had to carry her things.

Thomas nodded. The thought of a funeral didn’t abandon Medusa’s mind, the mass will be held in the big basilica, there probably live a lot of creatures, maybe not evil, but really annoying. They’ll think that Medusa wants to interact, however, now Medusa wasn’t in the mood to play with ghosts at all. On the other hand, at the cemetery could have swarmed evil ones too, you never know, she needed to ask Damiano to bless her as much as he can, bless her whole. Like he did that time.

“Yes, I drive,” Medusa was wakened up from her thoughts by Thomas's voice. “But the car isn’t mine. It belongs to Damiano, he don’t need to use it often so he borrows it to me.”

Medusa swayed her head but didn’t say anything. The car was full of Damiano’s scent.

~~~

To enter the sacristy wasn’t necessary to walk through the church. Getting in there was possible from the inner yard. The sacristy was the room where were stored ecclesiastical items, that were used during the mass or the procession process. In this basilica, the room was quite big, at the usual churches they were considerably modest. Damiano was sitting at his desk, he probably used to accept the faithful ones, who had some kind of questions. When Medusa noticed how he was sitting, she blushed. Damiano almost laid in his chair and was swinging in it. He looked so relaxed, legs spread open, and one of their heels was put on the other’s knee. Sometimes Medusa wondered how this man exorcises demons and at the same time is so calm, it seemed like he wasn’t bothered by anything. How he was a priest altogether. But Medusa liked it. When he was near, it felt like nobody can ever hurt you. He was the guarantee of a safety. Everything that Medusa needed. When he saw them, he didn't even bother to change his sitting position, but his face lighten up with a smile.

“Here you are,” said him cheerfully. “Now I’ll have an excuse why I can’t accept old ladies who want to gossip, anymore.”

Thomas giggled. Medusa was kind of amazed by Damiano’s words, however, their good mood cheered Medusa too. Here was way more fun than at the hospital, even though she was here for not so long, she’ll go soon to the place about which she don’t know yet. She was afraid of the women’s penitentiary. Damiano looked at Medusa. Examined her carefully with his gaze. Medusa heated up.

“How is Duzzy doing?” asked gently. Medusa always shivered with some weird pleasure, when he called her Duzzy.

Medusa didn’t understand if the question was intended for her or for Thomas, so she didn’t answer, just lowered her eyes and changed her standing position, in other words, squirmed. At first, her eyes were running around the patterned carpet, then her gaze stopped at the little cross that was hanging on the wall. Medusa frowned. She wondered how badly God will punish her. People are afraid that God will punish them because they masturbate, maybe they come to Damiano to confess such sins… Medusa caught herself thinking of it and her mind with shame came back to the point where she was thinking about herself. So what about her then? She was a murderer. The tears filled her eyes again. She felt how she would love to be with her parents right now, that they would be near. She wished she could live a normal life, stupid that she didn’t recall what it was like.

“She’s alright,” answered Thomas to Damiano’s question, seeing that Medusa don’t intend to speak herself. Damiano dramatically lifted his chin and nodded.

“ I see.”

Medusa couldn’t understand what that could mean. He probably was talking sarcastically. Does it seem so clear that she’s in a completely miserable position both physically and mentally, that even the phrase ‘she’s alright’ seemed so unbelievable?

Medusa glanced at Damiano’s face by the stealth. He was so handsome. She had to ask him something so he wouldn't notice that she was meaninglessly staring.

“Could I meet my sister?” Medusa remembered Sibyl. She was surprised when Damiano shook his head.

“Only at the funeral. She asked to keep her away from you.”

Medusa’s ears got tense and she started to sweat. She somewhat expected that, but to hear that was way more painful than telling it inside of your head. Medusa would instinctively ask ‘why’, but it would be so stupid that she even refrained. It’s better to say nothing. She was thinking what will she say to her sister, apologise would be worthless. Sibyl wasn’t that person who easily forgives, she was difficult to negotiate, and honestly if not for this incident, Medusa even wouldn’t desire to meet her. Sibyl was older and during one session Ethan said, that when he talked with their mom, earlier before everything happened, she said that Sibyl used to hurt Medusa when they were children. And hurt badly, however, he didn’t say why and how, said that he don’t know, and their mom didn’t speak of that, but Medusa didn’t believe. She hardly trusted anyone. Ethan was good to her, but sometimes he seemed a little bit… Suspicious. Even though he was a therapist, he had some kind of strange mystery and something in his entity did emphasize it. All of them were strange, to be honest. It was weird how Medusa’s destiny occurred. Unbelievable.

“So I won’t be adopted by my grandparents?” quietly asked her, lowering her head. What kind of question was that. She knew the answer, and knew it really well.

“Of course not,” casually answered her question Damiano, justifying her thoughts. “Why did you think that they intend to adopt you?”

Medusa shrugged. She got unbearably sad, they all will be at the funeral, but she couldn’t be a part of that family ever again. Poor girl. Down her cheeks actually dropped a unwilling tears.

“But where I’m going to live then?” snored her from now abundantly flowing tears.

Damiano observed how Medusa cries with a curious expression on his face. He smiled comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, you’re not going to jail,” he laughed. Medusa didn’t get why he was so not worried at all. Medusa felt ruined. If not to the jail, then where? Is there a worse place? Where she deserves to be imprisoned. Where? To the penitentiary? To a psych ward?... Again, just this time for forever. Anyway, she has to be jailed somewhere, how she’ll redeem her guilt?

Medusa started to shake her head. She didn’t understand.

“Then?...”

Damiano was snapping a pen between his fingers. From his expression, it didn’t seem that he would be preparing for the funeral overall. It made Medusa frown. It felt like he was mocking her. Because of nerves, Medusa felt her limbs itching and tears became bitter. She pressed her lips together hard. Damiano’s eyes stopped running around the room and now captured directly to Medusa’s face.

“You’re going to live with me,” he snapped his pen once again and let it go. The pen jumped out of his hand and landed on the desk. “Unless you don’t want it.”

Medusa listened for a moment. Then she got a little shock. At first, she couldn’t believe what she heard. It even seemed funny to her. She stupidly and hardly, through the tears released a small laugh. But it wasn’t a funny laugh, it more reminded a question.

“But you’re… A priest?” said her lifting her head.

Damiano shrugged, he rolled the pen with his index finger. He gently chuckled.

“You think I don’t have a home? Because I’m a priest?”

Medusa felt ashamed. She just wasn’t expecting that. She had a lot of with this related questions, but she knew that she can’t ask them. It would be even more shameful than just standing in silence. Medusa a little bit lost and cowardly looked around the room, her eyes caught the cross again, but she tried not to stay there for too long. Soon she took a peek at near her standing Thomas. When he saw that she was looking, he gently nodded as if he agreed with Damiano and Medusa’s face got all red.

“Not at all,” wanted to justify herself, but then she realized that it was hopeless. “Okay,” only said, agreeing with the fact that she will have to live with a priest.

It probably appeared funny to Damiano, but he got himself not to laugh, Medusa already was damaged enough, mocking would be unethical. And Damiano didn’t want to mock. Medusa was just so cute to him, she had so much pain in her heart, and Damiano understood why. The good mood he only wanted to help her understand that she was safe. Worry and grieving really were for what, but gnawing yourself to the bone only makes everything worse. She must know what she did, but not lose her self-control, which was needed to survive it. Finally, Damiano sighed, remembering that they must talk about the funeral. He glanced at a tears swiping Medusa.

“So, you’re going to attend the funeral procession, Dussy?” asked, taking his notebook and gently spreading through its pages. He got serious. His voice tone sounded more like an order than a question. Medusa felt that, she shrugged.

“I…” started to stutter her. “I’m not sure that I want it.”

“You think it depends on your wish?” Damiano’s voice now was completely serious, so serious that was inherent to a priest before a funeral. “I think that you must. You think differently?” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready enough…” quietly sighed Medusa.

“You had enough time to do it. They’re your relatives.”

Medusa had no other choice, but just to nod. He was right, but she was so scared. She couldn’t look at the faces of the dead ones, even though she knew that she’ll have to say goodbye to them forever. And what if one of the dead will resurrect as a ghost and start to follow Medusa for all of her life, everywhere she goes, reminding her of what she did. That would be deadly scary. She shivered from such thought and started to gaze at Damiano. It was strange to her how fast he changed from a kind and friendly to serious and strict. She felt so weird, that she was talking with Damiano at all. She unwillingly blushed. Deep inside it looked attractive to her. However, it was shameful for Medusa to admit it so because of that it stayed deep inside, somewhere between her brain nooks and crannies.

“When will the funeral be?” cowardly asked her, realizing that this was a piece of information that she didn’t know yet.

“Tomorrow. Noon,” Damiano answered. He marked something in his notebook and a smile appeared on his face again. “Do you have something to wear?” asked again, gazing at Medusa’s yellow hoodie. 

Medusa shrugged. She hadn’t anything else to wear. She probably will have to go to her home and take black clothes. Thinking that she’ll come back to her home, was a weird feeling. Will there be the same scent and atmosphere, which used to persist there? The yellowish shade of the sun’s reflections, in the combination of slightly pink walls and furniture. It used to look a little bit unconventionally, but at the same time, it was also somehow intimate. Medusa missed that room. It seemed that centuries passed since the last time she was there. Even though she actually didn’t know how much time passed since the possession. Medusa, on the other hand, hadn’t remembered what the feeling was to be there. What a feeling was being at home, and even having them after all. Now she was, let’s say, homeless.

“Well, it means we are going to visit your home,” Damiano laughed quietly. “Maybe it will be beneficial for you. You’ll remember something tangible, for example.”

Medusa nodded. If he says so… Damiano began to stand up. He put a notebook on the desk’s surface and the pen into a pencil case. He wore a black suit jacket and approached to coat rack he took his leather jacket and put it on.

“Let’s go?” said, throwing up a bit sacristy’s keys into the air, and catching it in his palm. “Where are my car keys, Thomas?”

Thomas dug in his pocket a bit and then handed Damiano his keys to his palmful. They headed toward the exit, but Medusa left standing in her position. She kind of turned to the exit’s side but didn’t dare to go. She was stopped by the fear of actually facing the real memories. What if she’ll remember something she wouldn’t want to? What if Sibyl will be at home? Meeting her so suddenly would be really scary, so sudden without preparation, Medusa wouldn’t know what to say. But Sibyl probably has a lot to say to her. That was what Medusa thought. She stood like that looking at how Damiano and Thomas stopped by the door and turn to her. Medusa hardly blushed, but she just couldn’t, stupid, but trauma probably was so bad that even the thought of getting back to the place where she lived before committing a crime that she actually committed, was freezing. She felt nauseous and her bones froze into one place. Damiano didn’t look surprised, instead of that Medusa noticed the tenderness in his eyes. Medusa felt something in her stomach.

“It’s okay, Dussy, we just going to take some clothes,” he comforted her. “What’s the worst that can happen?” asked. “Nothing,” then answered his own question and giggled.

Medusa always felt a little bit calmer when Damiano was in such a mood. Slightly kind. He was a priest and also an exorcist, how could she not trust him? And if he isn’t nervous about anything it means there’s no actual reason to be stressed about for real. Medusa hardly moved. She approached the boys and they went toward the car.

Damiano drove not like appropriate for a priest. Medusa could say that he even almost didn’t follow road traffic regulations. But only almost. The police wouldn’t catch him because there would be nothing to accuse him of. It looked like Damiano was clever. He drove fast but didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Medusa guessed that he drive like that because of his own pleasure. Silent music was playing in the car. Medusa leaned her head to the back of the seat. The views running together with the car, through the window looked blurry.

When Damiano unlocked the doors of the apartment, Medusa almost puked. When she sniffed the scent of the home, she also felt that without all this aroma, the apartment was also reeking of the scent of blood. Is it the place where she did slaughter her parents and friends? Damiano put his keys in his pocket. He cautiously entered the apartment. Will Medusa need just to take her things from her wardrobe and they’ll leave? Suddenly, before going to her room Medusa heard something. She stopped and listen attentively. There was something in Sibyl’s room. Medusa swallowed hardly. Is sister at home? She turned to Damiano interrogatively. He shrugged but it seemed like he knew. Medusa sighed silently and with the pain. She won’t avoid it. Anyhow.

“Sibyl?!” called out Damiano. “Are you home?”

Medusa closed her eyes. He wasn’t sure whether she was at home, or he just didn’t say it to Medusa? Someone went out of the room. It was Sibyl. The sister of Medusa. In her eyes appeared the same horror as in Medusa’s when they saw each other. Now Medusa won’t avoid the hurtful speech nohow. However, she was surprised when a few minutes passed and Sibyl didn’t say a word. She stared at Damiano as if she was asking what Medusa was doing here.

“We came to take black clothes for the funeral. What you’re doing here?” Damiano pushed Medusa so she start to move from the hall to the hallway. At first, she obeyed but then she stopped again. She grasped that Sibyl is not going to say anything. It was a way uglier feeling than Medusa thought. It would be better if Sibyl would deliver a painful speech or shout at her, but Medusa got that Sibyl just doesn’t have what to say. She did not consider Medusa her sister anymore, or her relative, and nothing that would be related to her, nothing that was worth talking to.

“I…” Sibyl started to say to Damiano. “I also pick things. Today I’m moving to my grandparents for good. And… picking my parents’ things that I would like to put to their grave.”

Medusa’s eyes got wet. She was curious about what things she had picked. Medusa thought that she knows, it could be mom’s perfume bottles and her dad’s favorite tie. Also, the souvenir statues that they brought from the various countries. Her parents used to love traveling and their souvenirs were so precious to them. A little bit and Medusa will start to cry and shout because of sorrow and self-loathing, but she controlled herself.

“Okay,” said Damiano. “We’re here not for long,” he gently took Medusa’s hand. “Come on, Dussy, let’s go.”

Medusa came to her room. Her room had pinkish walls and from behind burgundy-colored curtains sneaked a greyness of the day. The room looked gloomy and sad. However, no matter how weird a feeling it was to be here, she still couldn't remember anything. Only what her brain did recall about the parents’ belongings which they loved. And even though the scent of blood was very strong. Medusa couldn’t say how she killed her loved ones. Damiano probably notice that Medusa was only confused. She didn’t think anything sensible, her head didn’t process any useful detail of the memories. He frowned because Medusa just stood and didn’t do anything. Again.

“Find those clothes,” he ordered to her, and Medusa looked at him with a gaze that said ‘I don’t know where it is’. “Comeee on,” Damiano whined and pointed his finger to the chest of the drawers standing nearby.

Medusa nodded and opened one drawer. There was underwear, she frowned, blushed, and hurried to close it. Finally, only when she opened all of the drawers one by one, she found black clothes. She messed them up a little bit till she decided that found a dress appropriate for the funeral. She took it to her lap and looked at Damiano.

“That’s all,” said her. “I think this one will be suitable.”

Damiano tilted his head and its gesture showed Medusa to come with him.

“Let’s go out of here. Your presence in the apartment disturbs your sister.”

Medusa clenched her teeth. Hearing that was a wreaking feeling. Grasp that it was the truth, felt unrealistic. Sibyl and Medusa, now at their age, kind of got along earlier, the pique about sibyl hurting Medusa in their childhood was already faded. Now everything turned around.

Her nod was blunt. Passing by Sibyl, she felt her legs numb. She thought that she’ll fall. Sibyl was talking with Thomas. She didn’t seem happy at all, she probably told painful things to Thomas instead. Maybe not about Medusa, but clearly nothing vivacious. Thomas looked serious too.

“Well,” opening the door and holding Medusa’s hand said Damiano. “See you, tomorrow,” He waved at Sibyl. She slightly and a little bit confused waved back to him.

Thomas said goodbye to Sibyl too and came out of the apartment after Damiano and Medusa. Sibyl will stay alone in a blood-stinking home again. Medusa lowered her eyes. That’s all. Tomorrow will probably be the last day when she’ll sees her own sister. She wondered how much time had to pass till she’ll get used to it. Medusa kicked the little stone on the path. Stupidity.

“Damiano?” Medusa lifted her eyes to him when he let off her hand and started to look for car keys in his pockets.

“Mhm,” mumbled Damiano kindly, looking at Medusa from above.

“Where I’m going to sleep tonight?” asked her, but deep inside she thought that she suspect the answer. She’ll probably need to spend a night at the sacristy. However, Medusa got surprised by Damiano’s reply.

“At my place.”

“At your home?” Medusa frowned. Damiano gently laughed.

“Not this time. At my place, I mean at the church's rectory. I’ll spend a night there myself tonight. I need to prepare for the funeral.”

“Okay,” blushed Medusa. She felt stupid because she thought that she’s gonna stay at Damiano’s home. It seemed even bold and she was wondering what Damiano was thinking about that if he thought about it at all. Medusa was overthinking everything now.

~~~

The church’s rectory was a kinda big apartment, which was set up with a bedroom and office. In the bedroom, big windows opened the view to the fountain. Medusa stared there for some time. The bed was also quite big, there could have fit two people that was for sure. But it was a sin to even think that she could sleep in one bed with Damiano. However, such a thought was somehow pleasurable that she let it in for a while. She even fantasized that they could cuddle. But when Damiano came into the room she remembered that he was a priest after all because his white collar was seen so clearly that it was hard to forget that. And since he was a priest she shouldn’t be thinking even about touching him. More than he takes her hand himself.

Medusa stood holding her clothes and a few more things she took from her home in her lap. She wasn’t sure where she should put all of it.

“Just place them on the bed,” Damiano noticed that Medusa was still standing a little bit confused. She obeyed and put her things on the bed covered with a red blanket. Then sat. She stared through the window. The water in the fountain looked grey like everything else. To be honest, in all this greyness that persisted inside and outside, only that bed’s blanket stuck in the eyes.

It was getting dark outside and Damiano turned the light on in the bedroom.

“You’re going to sleep here,” he said and smiled at Medusa. “If you need something, I’ll be at my office.”

Medusa nodded.

“Okay,” answered her and felt stupid again just this time she didn’t know why.

When Damiano left the room, Medusa left sitting on the bed. She swung her legs. She has to go to the bathroom and change into pajamas. But suddenly she was hit by the perception, that she forget to take her pajamas from home. She was trying so hard not to dig into her underwear drawer for too long, that she forgot to take half of the things that she needed. Sleeping with clothes on would be uncomfortable, but it was the only option that was left to her. Medusa’s clothes were very uncomfy, sleeping with a hoodie would be too hot, but underneath it, she had only a bra. Also, she wore jeans. So the only choice was to sleep just with a hoodie, even though it stank like blood. The scent she brought back from her home. She was impatient to put it into the washing machine.

She slowly walked away from the room. She had to find a bathroom. Medusa wandered a little bit around the apartment. Then coming through Damiano’s office, thought maybe she should ask him. She took a peek through the door crack. Damiano sat at his desk, put one leg on another just as he sat in the sacristy. He watched his phone, seemed like he was reading something. Near him on the desk was laying a pile of papers and a couple of books. Medusa half-opened the door, Damiano lifted his head in sudden and placed his phone on the table by other things.

“I wasn’t expecting that you’ll need me so soon. So, what happened?” Damiano smiled cunningly and changed his sitting position. Now he leaned his head on his palms and put elbows on the surface of the desk.

At first, Medusa shrugged and for a moment realized that maybe she did a mistake by coming here. She could bet that bathroom will be at the most obvious place ever. But now it was too late. The decision was made and she had to admit what she came for to him.

“I need to use the bathroom. Could you tell me where it is?”

It seemed like Damiano got surprised, but so unrealistically. Medusa wondered why he should pretend, but then he said.

“You only needed to look directly in front of your bedroom. I left doors open on purpose.”

“Oh.”

Then Damiano added.

“Forgive me, I forgot to mention it earlier.”

Medusa shook her head.

“It’s okay,” she said and cursed herself inside, that she couldn’t manage to look in front of her nose. She looked everywhere just not there it was.

Damiano lowered his eyes somewhere onto the papers as if he was expecting Medusa will go to use the bathroom. But Medusa was still standing, she needed some clothes made for sleep to sleep with. Maybe there were some nightdresses or pajamas, there was a wardrobe and a lot of drawers in that room after all. Medusa was sure that it wasn’t for sacred clothes, it was kept in the sacristy. Just she was afraid to look in there without the permission, of course.

After some time Damiano lifted his head again. Medusa held the door handle and swung it back and forth.

“Something else?” asked Damiano, his voice was so soft as if he was talking to a kitten. Medusa got a little bit surprised by his changed tone.

“I need pajamas…” Medusa squinted guiltily. “I forgot it at home.”

Damiano shrugged like saying ‘and?’ but soon his eyes widened when he grasped what Medusa wanted from him for real.

“Well, something such as pajamas I don’t have here.”

Medusa nodded but deep inside she felt disappointed. She didn’t want to sleep with that hoodie, it had too many horrible experiences. But then, Damiano had begun to stand up from his chair.

“But maybe we’ll find something…”

Medusa was watching his face while he was walking past her. Damiano gestured his hand so Medusa would go with him. Medusa followed him.

Damiano entered the room and opened the wardrobe. There were hanging a lot of black shirts and white ones. Damiano took them and spread them in front of him.

“Do you think these would be suitable for you?”

Medusa wanted to shrug but realizing that she won’t get anything better nodded. She wasn’t sure how she felt about sleeping in Damiano’s shirt, it was so weird, but Damiano didn’t look very affected by it, he just stared at Medusa waiting for a verbal answer. Finally, Medusa understood it.

“They’re okay… I guess,” she said and Damiano put those shirts into her lap. Before walking away he stood one more time to take a peek at Medusa. She looked broken. She needed sleep, but she was afraid of nightmares. Perceive that she won’t be able to talk to her sister ever again should have felt terrible, and not having any memories even if they were bad, was probably tiring. Damiano peered at her face seeing how she lowers her eyes feeling his gaze on her.

“Don’t be afraid, Dussy, it’s safe here,” Damiano comforted her. “I’ll be nearby.”

Medusa nodded. She wondered if there were creatures here. But she realized that she was practically in a church and this thought calmed her down. Even if there were any, they won’t be evil. Also, Damiano will be here.

“Thank you.”

Damiano left. Medusa used a bathroom and dug into the blankets. It felt so nice to lay not in the hospital and all clean and… In Damiano’s shirts. She squirmed, her feet were cold. The blankets here were warm, soft, and cozy, the blanket itself was royal size, and it could have covered up few people for sure. Medusa considered if she should turn the night light off. Then she chose to sleep in the dark anyway. When the light was turned off the reflections of the street lights started to penetrate through the window. In the dark only with a little lamp on she was used to sleeping at the hospital. Medusa fell asleep.

She probably was deep asleep and had a nightmare or maybe experienced a sleep paralysis because opened her eyes she saw something in the dark. She felt that she can’t move and the first thought that came to her mind was ‘not again’. Her eyes started to run around the room, but they couldn’t grope anything, the light wasn’t penetrating through the window, and she didn’t see the wardrobes or the nightstand. However, there was something else. Something alive.

Medusa tried to make a sound but she managed only to squeal. She got deadly scared when someone started to approach her. God, she thought, please save me. No matter what that was, please don’t let it possess me again, she preyed. But then in front of her, she saw some kind of human. At first, she noticed little, red horns and later she perceived that it was a girl. In the dark, her facial features were blurred, but Medusa still could have seen them. A girl came near the bed. Medusa saw how she smiles. Medusa couldn’t move and honestly, that girl, whoever she was could have done everything she wanted to her. She had horns, which means she was a devil, Medusa thought. It was so scary and when that devil extended her finger and squeezed Medusa’s forehead a little bit, she let the silent squeal again. However, the girl’s finger was soft and Medusa almost could smell the scent of the perfume. That creature even wore clothes. 

“Have trouble sleeping?” asked her and chuckled quietly. Maybe it was some kind of ghost, that used to live here? “That means you don’t know what’s waiting for you. You can do way worse things than kill people whom deep down you didn’t even love. You’re happy just don’t let yourself understand that.”

What she was talking about? Medusa shut her eyes. Medusa wouldn’t even ever think that she doesn’t love her parents or friends. And even more, so that she’s happy that had killed them.

“We both would be such good friends. It’s such a shame that you got along with that… Priest. I have no idea why but he’ll really try to separate me from you,” suddenly girl spread her both hands at Medusa. “Booh… I am you.”

Medusa felt herself flinch unwillingly when that girl scared her. Medusa would have said something, but unfortunately, she couldn’t speak. So she let that creature say heartbreaking and horrible things to her.

“I’ll follow you until you start losing your mind,” a girl warned, and Medusa sensed that she was saying that as if she was joking, then she heard a silent laugh that proved her guess right. “You’d ask why right? Just because. You look like a fun person.”

It was so strange to Medusa what that girl was talking about. Medusa never in her life hadn’t seen such a creature yet. Only one explanation was that she was a ghost. But what such ghost would do in a church rectory? She looked evil, but at the same time kind of not. Very weird, those horns were triggering Medusa because they made her doubt. They were even a little bit funny but what creature without chimeras and animals in general, would have them, only a devil. But Medusa couldn’t remember seeing devils. Medusa was scared, but she wasn’t feeling like she feels when she sees a really evil creatures. Even though a girl was talking unpleasant things, she was always giggling and Medusa felt like she wasn’t talking seriously.

“You like him?” asked the creature. However, once again grasping that Medusa can’t speak, answered her own question. “Of course you like him, he’s hot, right? But I don’t like him… I don’t know why. He’s somehow weird.”

A girl sat down near Medusa’s legs and patted her shins.

“Poor girl you are.”

Medusa frowned as hard as her strength let. She wished for a morning to come sooner and this creature would disappear. Or maybe she wasn’t afraid of the light? Maybe she was some human who broke into the room through the window? Maybe those horns aren’t real? Maybe someone was playing with Medusa? But her doubts vanished when she remembered that she can’t move. She stuck her gaze to the ceiling.

“He should have some conscience, I hope you understand that he exorcised that demon — who was my mate by the way — not without a reason?”

A mate, Medusa thought, that means she’s actually a demon. Medusa got cold. A little bit too cold.

“You fell into the trap. The only way out is to trust me,” a girl squinted. “Will you trust me?”

Medusa tried to say something and she almost succeed, but a girl suddenly stood up and pushed her finger on Medusa’s lips.

“Shhh… He might hear us,” she gently spread Medusa’s lips and started to stick her finger into Medusa’s mouth. Now Medusa had not even a little idea what was happening. She stick her finger deeper and deeper till Medusa started to choke. A girl was giggling and Medusa choked and choked louder and louder and louder…

“Medusa…”

Medusa couldn’t understand who had said that because she started to catch air so hard she jumped and sat in her bed. Her eyes started running around the room like crazy, looking for a creature. Finally, she grasped that the room is lightened up and Damiano is in it. She probably was making loud sounds. He interrogatively looked at Medusa.

“I… I…” Medusa wasn’t sure how to explain, everything already felt like an ordinary nightmare now, so she decided that it was probably just a nightmare, only a very realistic and vivid one. But like Damiano often says — nightmares are harmless. “I had a nightmare.”

Medusa noticed disbelief in Damiano’s eyes. He came near and sat on the bed.

“What had you dreamt?” asked.

Medusa began to reproduce her nightmare. She interpreted that the girl was a demon. She said it was her mate, so she knew it.

“It was a demon…”

Damiano’s eyes extended for a second. Could have it been the demon that had possessed her before? But that had to be impossible, Damiano thought, he sent away that demon. Also, here in such a place as a church rectory, it couldn’t even appear.

“In what shape?”

“Human.”

It was unexpected to Damiano. He wanted to ask what that human looked like, but he refrained. That would be a memory probably too disturbing for Medusa. Then Damiano realized that she probably didn’t have a nightmare. He quickly thought about the sleep paralysis demon. And that calmed him down, they usually aren’t real.

“I couldn’t talk or move and she looked very very human.”

She.

“You probably experienced a sleep paralysis,” comforted Damiano Medusa. “Nothing harmful. It can be sometimes. And especially when you’re traumatized.”

Medusa nodded. It could have been the truth that what she saw was simply unreal. The horrors of subconsciousness reproduce in form of hallucinations. She trusted Damiano, not her own head or feelings. After that incident, Medusa overthinks a lot of things. She lifted her head to Damiano. He was watching her.

“Come,” suddenly said opening his arms. “Maybe a hug will help you to calm down.”

For a moment, Medusa seemed to realize that Damiano knew. Knew how much she likes him. She crawled out of her blanket. Damiano’s shirt was a little bit too oversized for her, she snagged in them trying to reach Damiano. Then gently sat in his lap. She felt how he put his palm on the top of her head and softly patted her. Medusa closed her eyes, she started to blush. Damiano didn’t say anything. His fingers were running through her hair and Medusa realized how safe she was. The safest as she could be. All those demons were fading in her memory while she was with Damiano. She didn’t feel how she started to sink herself. Finally, calm and quiet she sank into a deep sleep. 

~~~

Medusa saw how to the funeral are gathering many of her known people. She wore her black, lacy dress, stood in the doorway of the entryway, and didn’t dare to go to the armory hall. The mass should have begun soon. She noticed how Sibyl enter the room. Maybe she had to go to her and say something for the last time. Apologize. What else she could say? Even though the anxiety was shattering, she decided to try. She cowardly sneaked out of the entryway and started to quietly and slowly so nobody noticed, approaching Sibyl. She heard how many of the attendance were silently wailing. Medusa never felt worse. She just hoped that she’ll reach Sibyl without being noticed. At the mass, she must keep her distance from everyone else. At first, Sibyl hadn’t noticed Medusa, but when she felt how Medusa touch her shoulder she flinched. Her eyes extended from an unpleasant surprise. She didn’t try to say something, she just interrogatively stared at Medusa.

“Sibyl…” started to say Medusa but didn’t know how she should continue. Her sister still was silent. She was so angry, sad, and disappointed, but what else Medusa could expect? Medusa couldn’t find any other words and just said. “I’m sorry. So much.”

Sibyl snorted a laugh. At that moment, someone else touched her shoulder. They glared at Medusa judgmentally for a moment but said nothing.

“I’m very sorry…” said them to Sibyl.

Medusa walked away. That was the last time and it was so… Quiet and stupidly sad. Medusa’s eyes got wet and soon hot tears were running down her face. Well, at least she said that, at least she apologized. It was stupid to expect, but maybe now the sorrow will leave her heart.

Finally, it was time to gather in the church. While everyone tried to approach to dead ones as closely as possible, Medusa stood at the very end of the church. She tried not to look at those corpses, she didn’t take a peek not even once. She shuddered at the mere thought of those cold bodies for which she once had such warm feelings for them and they for her.

When the mass began, Medusa started to glance at Damiano who was holding them. He looked so calm and cold. A little bit different that yesterday when he hugged her. He was dressed in weird clothes and spoke words that Medusa didn’t understand. She never visited churches. Maybe that was her mistake.

Medusa started to look around the church. It was beautiful here, but suddenly her eyes caught one thing. They haven’t stayed there for long, but then suddenly came back. She froze, her eyes were wide as never now. There, not very far away, a little bit separated from the crowd, between pillars stood a girl. And… Her facial features were completely the same as the girl’s in Medusa’s nightmare, everything was like in it, as much as Medusa had remembered. Just that Medusa couldn’t have said if she had horns or not because she wore a little pillbox hat with laces. For a moment a girl didn’t notice that Medusa was watching. Her eyes were impaled on Damiano. Impaled so intensively that it seemed like she’ll suck his soul out. She had a little cunning and soft smile on her face. Then Medusa’s stare probably got her attention. She turned to Medusa, looked surprised, then grinned to Medusa. That was girly, but the most creepy grin Medusa had ever seen. A girl lifted two of her index fingers to her lips as if she was saying to Medusa to smile together. But when she saw that Medusa hadn’t had any intention to do so, she came near and stood beside Medusa. Medusa felt shivers running down her spine. A girl looked at Medusa, then at Damiano. It’s a hallucination, it’s only a hallucination, tried to calm herself down Medusa, she’s not real…

“You think he can’t see me?” softly asked her and Medusa recognized the voice. She shook her head. “Ah,” a girl laughed slightly. “You wanna I’ll prove you wrong?”

Medusa shook her head again. However, her interlocutor cheerfully jumped a little in her spot and then made her way through the people to the altar. Medusa was watching her. It was so scary.

A girl climbed on the pulpit near Damiano and did a little mimic with her fingers as if she is spreading his lips into a smile. But she wasn’t touching him, just playing something. It seemed that no one saw her, and Medusa calmed down a little. However, when Medusa looked more attentively, she saw that he was slowly reacting to the girl’s movements. But he was acting like he was completely unbothered. If he sees her that means other sees her too. But maybe they’re so concentrated on dead ones and Damiano’s sermon, that aren’t paying attention? That would be too weird. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He was so cold and unresponsive, if Medusa wasn't so intense, she probably wouldn’t notice any reaction from him. Maybe her eyes were lying to her?

But he can see the girl. He can see. Or at least feel, the thought didn’t leave Medusa. Damiano saw, he saw. But he can pretend so good. So good, that it’s even creepy. A tear dropped down Medusa’s cheek. He sees just pretends so good…

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it. Any kind of attention motivates to write further 😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist 🩸

[spesphire]

( tragedy)

It was nothing more than a dream.

But something felt so vividly real, it was hard to forget. Him holding me oh so tightly and saying, “you sure you want this? There is no turning back. Promise me you want this and you want me. Promise me you won’t let go and love me through my worse.” I didn’t let him go. I kept holding him tightly without any regrets. And then we kissed. I woke up to my bittersweet dream. In a dream where we were having conversations about stuff. Me knowing I fell for him first, but he fell harder. Oh wow, such a quirky drama that dream was. I woke up with a nauseating feeling. My roommate was awake the whole night studying. I feel fell asleep because I felt tired and, well, suicidal. SHE DIDN’T SLEEP THE WHOLE NIGHT AND I DIDN’T STUDY THAT WELL! My food had gone bad. Which I was technically saving up till December. I got seemingly bad grades in math test. Nothing is going in my way, so how the freak am I supposed to calm down and study. It’s a war in my head. It’s all too much for me. I failed my bio test and I told my parents for the third time I want to kill myself. I’m a God Awful daughter. Oh, yeah, I have the busiest lab of the semester today and a chem midterm tomorrow. Don’t know how that’ll go. 

Oh yeah, the labs. Where they expect me to know everything and where this bitch owing my name ends up putting me in disadvantages.

Oh life, my life.

Everything would be so much better if I killed myself. No money for my parents to spend, no uncertain future, no crying till you feel numb enough to fall asleep, no midterms, no being a disappointment and oh my what life.

I feel sick. Like my heart's about to burst out if I don’t do something with it. No one to heal me. Well, even if they do heal me, it just doesn’t do anything. Sometimes it’s best to lie about my miserable state. Lie that I’m fine and I can do this. A lie that I tell myself and my family pretty often. It hurts. Everything hurts. Like how having a crush hurts. Hurts to know that no one, including that silly crush, will ever love me like that.

Hurts to be all alone, even though my favorite people say you aren’t alone.

Well, I was born alone and most probably die alone. I want to ask for help, but I can’t. Even when I get the help, it ends up being a blob of nothing.

Sorry for this rant. Thought I was going to write a fictional book based on my dream but look what it leads to.

My roommate is like 5 years younger than me and achieving more than me. 

I mean, I wouldn’t feel bad about it, but it’s my mother who makes sure I don’t feel great about it. Something about success means so much to her. To the point, I see ‘successes’ as a successful elder sister my mom loves the most. And I’m abandoned and constantly compared with her.

My mother is a whole different character to study. Sometimes I see her as the good witch. Even if she’s good, she is still a witch. Manipulation, base-minded, offensive, abused, unhappy for the good days ‘cause there’s no point of it and lastly psychotic in nature (sometimes).

Maybe that’s just every mother.

Or maybe, just perhaps, it’s only my mother.

The pages of feels is about to end. I must go back to my studying. My excuses are too much, but they are still invalid somehow.

Saying that everyone feels the same. It’s really normal.

I remember how bluntly the student advisor told me to drop my course that day. How bluntly she said, “it’s all over for you, try again next time.” Well, she didn’t say these exact words, but that was the summary of it. Huh, guess that’s what happens when you pressure the girl to become what she doesn’t want to become. A microbiologist. In my dreams, possibly.

The thing is, I don’t hate studying. I freaking love studying and doing homework. But the exams and evaluation is where I fuck up. Very badly, actually. I’m a girl who doesn’t want to taste defeat but gets defeated every time.

It’s just the beginning, and I’m really not sure how can I go on.

Along with my thoughts to end it all is scary enough. 

Hey.

I just want to live with a peaceful mind. I just want to function and do my studies like a normal freaking person. Making my parents proud seems good enough.

[summaryi]

A Court of Mist and Fury - Sarah J. Maas (Book 2)

oh my heart

SPOILERS BELOW

MY HEART FUCKING BROKE. YOU KNOW WHEN IT BROKE. YOU FUCKING KNOW.

IT BROKE WHEN TAMLIN LOCKED HER IN THE HOUSE.

GOD FUCKING DAMN

OKAY SO

Feyre pre-Amarantha needed her Beauty and the Beast moment. But she went through fucking SHIT in Amarantha’s bullshit trials and DIED and CAME BACK TO LIFE and Tamlin, I SWEAR TO GOD I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKED UP TOO, LIKE GODDAMN, A LOT HAS HAPPENED, YA BOI NEEDS THERAPY

WHERE’S THE FUCKING FAE THERAPIST

IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T IANTHE

AND HE

WELL

HE’S FUCKED UP TOO I GET IT

THEY’RE JUST

THEY’RE JUST NOT COMPATIBLE WITH EACH OTHER AT THIS MOMENT

AND IT

FUCKING HURTS TO SEE

I don’t doubt that he loves her. I don’t doubt that she loves him. They’re also - at this point - so very different than when they first met. 

Tamlin needs to rebuild (or try to) whatever vision he has for the Spring Court. He wants to pull inwards and deal with whatever lies outside the Spring Court’s borders with an overabundance of caution.

Feyre cannot look inwards, or else the fuckery she’s still recovering from and processing will pull her into its black hole.

God. It hurt so much when he. Stupid bubble. You know.

And Lucien. Fuck. I liked Lucien a lot more in Book 1. I just feel like. I don’t know. It’s a hard situation for him, too.

I love Rhys. I’M SIMPING UWU

The shit he went through with Amarantha. IT FUCKING HURTS ME TO THINK OF BABY RHYS, CASSIAN, AND AZRIEL GROWING UP TOGETHER. THE SHIT THEY WENT THROUGH. THE LOVE AND TRUST THEY HAVE IN EACH OTHER. GOD.

I do love that Velaris, for me, in MY PERSONAL READING EXPERIENCE, was mostly townhome. It truly is the secret getaway where Rhys and his Inner Circle get to be themselves. Not High Lord, or General, or whatever.

Honestly, I didn’t understand why Feyre was mad that Rhys didn’t tell her they’re mates. Like, when did he have time girl. WHEN DID HE HAVE A MOMENT. WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN CONVENIENT FOR YOU?

When he ran into you at Calamnai? HuH???? When the only thing you wanted was Tamlin and you weren’t even able to tell him you loved him?

Oh, Under the Mountain? I’m sorry, when you were busy trying not to die and Rhys was trying his damndest to keep you alive???? Oh, by the way, when you were doing all that shit for Tamlin? Should he have told you then?

Or what about when you were reeling from trauma and trying to piece yourself and your world back together? When you couldn’t eat or sleep? Should he have been like hey howdy hot stuff, it’s me, ya boi - we mates - see ya next month!

Or when he whisked you away from your wedding TO TAMLIN? yEAAH, that would have gone so well. SO LIKE. I DON’T KNOW. IS IT JUST ME. I DON’T KNOW WHY SHE’S SO UPSET HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING SOONER BECAUSE IT SEEMS TO ME THAT THERE WASN’T EVER REALLY A GOOD FUCKING TIME FOR THAT KIND OF CONVERSATION

Not a big deal, actually, she gets over it pretty quickly. Am I the weird one, for not understanding why she gets mad? Not to like. Invalidate her feelings. You do you girl. Your emotions are valid. But also you are a fictional character and I’m dumping my own emotions and thoughts here. So like. I don’t get it. Like, he wasn’t telling you but also. When could he have. It’s not like he was like “hey i’ve been hiding a really big secret about like - how you can undo every bad thing that happened to you and there are no negative consequences.”

I hated that Rhys shared Velaris with the human queens. I hated that. I hated that. I get it. I understand it. It hurt me. IT HURT ME.

AND TAMLIN’S FUCKING BETRAYAL. HE SOLD THEM OUT TO HYBERN FOR WHAT? FEYRE? DOES HE ok so like

me? projecting? maybe. tamlin = fictional? absolutely

does he still love her (purely) or does he just want her back in this weird desperate hope that once she’s back everything will click back into place and give him the life he thinks he deserved and wanted and his happily ever after will occur and the rest of eternity will be happily ever after

So like

ya

what da fuck boi

I can see the angle of “keep your enemies closer” and “i would’ve been able to spy on Hybern’s plans and movements if I let them use my lands” but also like

dis some fucked up shit and idk if your reasoning is that sound my guy and is the price worth it and like - you are dealing with HYBERN here they are FUCKED UP, bro, like come ON, is any deal you make with them going to be worth it fr fr sheeeeesh

Lucien being like Elain is my mate kinda like

out of left field for me

very you get a mate, and you get a mate, and you get a mate, everybody gets a mate energy and i like

idk

it was a lot

i want a hot Fae mate too T_T (NOT THAT MY CURRENT PARTNER ISN’T FABULOUS I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH but like also Fae magic isn’t my current reality and i wish it was)

Feyre, High LaDY OF THE NIGHT COURT?

wig SNATCHED

i love this for her

fuck it UP, Rhys!!!!!!!!!!!! we stan a woke hot boi

[thranduel]

el deserves better + why people can’t take mike’s monologue seriously

*these are my own personal opinions and observations! if you liked this scene how it was, that's fine! no one's forcing you to look at this lol. i'm not trying to "ruin" this scene for anyone or invalidate people’s feelings. it’s a fictional show. the writers like when people analyse and look into it and that’s what i’m doing. these are just my own opinions about it as someone who has watched the show since the beginning, pays attention and truly cares about the characters, and i think they could've done this scene a lot better if they wanted it to seem genuine.

i also just want to make it clear that i would’ve had no problem with mike and el’s relationship if it was well-written, slowly developed properly instead of rushed, they actually understood each other and could be themselves with each other AND if will wasn’t involved in this love triangle and had his heart broken in the process because that’s probably one of the most cruel, horrible and unnecessary things i’ve ever seen in a show. there was absolutely no reason to involve an abused and traumatised gay child in this mess if he was just going to end up hurt again after everything he’s suffered and people have EVERY right to be uncomfortable and upset about that, but anyways!

“love at first sight”

the love at first sight trope coming out of nowhere seemed really out of character for mike since he's made it clear several times he doesn't believe in that and we also know he didn't fall in love with el the moment he met her when he was only 12 years old and struggling with the trauma of his best friend going missing. i'm not sure why they felt the need to include that when will was sitting right there listening and they could've done literally anything else to show he loved her. he shouldn't have to lie and make things up that don’t make sense (seriously, what happened to “friends don’t lie”)? and sure, the cast can say whatever they want about a 12 year old falling in love with a stranger the moment he looked at her even though he knew absolutely nothing about her and his best friend was suffering in an alternate dimension, but it still makes no sense from a writing standpoint and you can literally see that in mike’s words and actions after they take her to his house. the whole thing has always been weird lol. i don’t know why people romanticise the love at first sight trope with two children anyways and act like it makes their relationship better when it only made it worse because of how rushed it was.

using will

this needs to be mentioned considering will is the reason this monologue happened in the first place (so don’t even start with the “stop making everything about will” when THE WRITERS THEMSELVES literally put him in every mike and el scene except their fight scene!!!!!!!) but i absolutely hated how they used will's feelings for mike in order to make him say he loves his own girlfriend. like… what. using a gay character who has suffered since the very beginning as a plot device to force another ship back together while he continues to suffer and be heartbroken isn't cool at all. you can come up with any excuse, but NOTHING makes it okay that they included will in this mess and turned him into a couple’s therapist that fixes their problems when they can’t even do that themselves. if they wanted all this drama with mike and el and STILL have them stay together for some reason, fine. but will should’ve NEVER been involved. there’s no excuse. i don’t understand how anyone is okay with that. he literally had to push him into saying the monologue even when el was choking because mike wouldn’t have said it otherwise. he also took inspiration from what will said in the van about his OWN feelings for him and basically re-worded it. it’s just crazy.

“mike was just trying to save her”

i get that!!!!! he was panicking and under stress. it’s actually a realistic way to respond in that situation and anyone would make up whatever they think the person wants to hear to save them. he was trying his best to help her and i really do appreciate him for that because she really needed strength and motivation. BUT the point is, it still wasn’t entirely genuine and it’s so weird that people watch it and talk about it like it’s a proper romantic love confession and their relationship is oh so perfect when he always lies and contradicts himself which just feels hurtful and unnecessary. he could've told her he loved her WITHOUT making things up. in fact, he should’ve told her he loved her BEFORE she got her powers back, before he was pushed into it by will and before she was in danger and he was under pressure. that would’ve made it seem so much more genuine.

flashbacks

i’m just gonna link this incredible analysis post from @aurorabyler here about flashbacks because they explained it so perfectly. please check it out!!!!

anyways mike could’ve spoken about happy memories instead of making up lies she knows aren’t true. when he said “it’s not because i’m scared of you. i’ve never felt that way”, it just sounded ridiculous because she knows he’s been scared of her. it literally happened a few episodes ago at the roller rink. even in season 1, mike yelled at her and triggered traumatic memories that reminded her of brenner (the flashbacks happen right after to show the parallels) and it happened again in season 4. she also said “you think i’m a monster too” when they were arguing because she knows that mike has been scared of her. and at the roller rink when she was sitting at the table shaking and crying, he just stared at her along with the crowd and he didn’t sit with her or take her away from the triggering environment. he just stared and did nothing. in the car he was silent and then at the dinner table he made a sarcastic comment which made her feel worse and get up and leave. then he sips his drink which is a parallel to ted and karen. obviously mike has every right to be shocked and afraid sometimes, but el was also really struggling and he did nothing to help. even when she confronted him about everything, he just sat there, got defensive, denied everything and called her ridiculous. “he’s just a teenager” just doesn’t work as an excuse because we’ve seen that mike can be mature, apologise and take responsibility for what he’s done wrong with other people, so why didn’t he do that during their fight scene? why was he sitting there with no emotion on his face and making her feel worse as she was literally breaking down in front of him? why did he have to be pressured and motivated by his best friend to say he loves his own girlfriend? “he just needed some advice”, “he’s just insecure”, “his parents couldn’t say ily”. these are all ridiculous excuses that make no sense. it also doesn’t explain why will was involved in this mess in the first place. how is it okay for a gay child to just be shoved to the side and heartbroken and then force the boy he loves into telling his girlfriend he loves her? how are people seriously okay with that?

more lies and idolisation

during the monologue, mike also could’ve mentioned el's friends and family which mean the world to her instead of just making it about himself and why he needs “his superhero”. he could’ve mentioned who she is as a person instead of just her powers, but the truth is, he barely knows who she is as a person because they can’t be themselves around each other and they don’t even share any similar interests. that's why it confuses me when people actually take what he's saying seriously and think he's being genuine and "romantic" when he isn't. "oh, but mike said he fell in love the moment he met her, he’s so in love”. uh, of course he's going to say that when he's under pressure and she's in danger, but that doesn't mean it's true. we know that he was going through one of the most traumatic times in his life when will went missing and he wasn’t focusing on falling in love… he was literally only 12 years old and he knew el for 6 days before she disappeared. they were strangers. he also only let her stay when she said the bad guys were after her and when he found out she had powers and could help find will, not because he “fell in love”. he was literally planning to send her away so they could focus on finding will. so many people forget about this but it’s just crazy to think about. even when they reunite at the end of season 2, they had only spent less than a week with each other as children. mike called her every day with no response but that’s only because he wanted to know if she was out there because she was his friend and of course he cares about her. but they still barely knew each other and he didn’t get to know her more while he was making those calls because she couldn’t even respond. there was no proper build up, no honest communication and no getting to know each other properly before getting into a relationship.

rushed romance

people talk about how they fell in love immediately when they barely even knew each other and el just escaped a lab she was raised in and didn’t know what romance was. she couldn’t even communicate at the same level as mike and everything happened so quickly for her (and no, this is NOT saying that she's not capable of having a boyfriend now. of course she is. she's incredible and she's capable of so much. but when she got out of the lab, she was just a child and she wasn't taught anything about romance or relationships, so it would've been so confusing for her and she needed more time to discover herself and her own interests and then figure out who she likes, if she even wanted a relationship at all). in season 3, she asked max how she knows what she likes because no one has ever taught her or allowed her to figure things out on her own and decide what she likes for herself. max was the first person to do that and it was a really important moment for el. she was also the happiest she had ever been in that scene when they were shopping and i’ve never seen her smile and laugh so much. it was really beautiful to see.

anyways, i know she's not being forced to stay in her relationship with mike but i feel like both of them heavily depend on each other due to their emotional attachment since they found each other during a traumatic time and saved each other when they were vulnerable and needed help. mike was the first person to take care of el outside the lab and helped her hide from the bad guys so she wouldn’t have to go back, and el saved mike's life when he jumped off the cliff and then she broke his bully's arm. mike and el feel like they owe each other something and they're extremely dependent on each other because they saved each other, but i don't understand why they had to start dating because of that? it's like they feel like they can't be anything outside of a couple which isn't healthy considering the show has proven over and over again that they're not working as a couple. i don't know why people think this is a bad thing either or an "insult" to their relationship. it's not at all. no one is saying they don't love each other, because of course they do. they just don't work together romantically for many reasons, but they would still love each other even if they're just friends. in fact, i think their relationship would be even stronger if they were just friends.

they don’t feel like equals (and literally admitted this in the show)

one of the biggest issues with their relationship is that both mike and el can’t be themselves with each other and they always lie, so it doesn’t help that he lied during his monologue too. it’s really sad. you shouldn’t feel like you need to lie or change who you are when you’re in a relationship. and i just feel like there were so many other ways they could’ve done this. like, if they wanted mike and el together, that’s fine. but why couldn’t their relationship be more genuine and why couldn’t they be themselves around each other? el didn’t even need a boyfriend or first kiss in season 1, she just needed a friend to help her and be by her side. mike is the one that decided what their relationship would be because he had a little crush on her, but el didn’t get a say at all. i understand it was supposed to be "cute and wholesome" and mike didn’t have any bad intentions when he kissed her, but it’s just really strange when you actually think about how they barely knew each other and el didn’t know what a kiss was.

the characters deserve better

i also just feel like this scene hurts all 3 characters involved (el, mike and will, because yes, will was involved in a way considering he's been in love with mike since the beginning and he’s the reason mike said his monologue in the first place) and it feels insulting to them. the writers also placed will in EVERY mike and el scene except their fight, so people can’t get mad when people “make it all about will”. blame the writers then. people are obviously going to talk about the abused and traumatised gay child that’s suffering and getting his heart broken.

el: she deserves to be loved for who she is as a person, as jane, not just “superhero eleven”. her boyfriend should’ve shown her love in his letters and he should’ve comforted her and explained himself (or just simply said “i love you”) when she was crying in her room begging to hear the words. his excuse for not being able to say it was “i’m scared she won’t need me anymore”, but she clearly needed him in that moment. he knew what she wanted to hear. he also said he feels inferior because he’s just a nerd and she’s a superhero. but she didn’t even have powers in that scene where she was crying. she was just a regular person like him, so why couldn’t he say it? in the next episode, he also admits that if he just said “that thing”, she might’ve taken him with her (he couldn't even specify what it was when he was talking to will). so he knew exactly what she wanted but he still didn’t say it. this entire plot was just added for drama and it feels so unnecessary. he couldn’t even tell her he loved her when she was sobbing in his room but he only could after his best friend convinced him with his painting, monologue and pushed him to when el was in danger. how is that fair? how do people think it’s genuine after all that? “because mike is just insecure and needed a push”???? because that doesn’t change the fact that he has lied to her and made her feel horrible before. it doesn’t change the fact that she was SOBBING in front of him and he was more worried about himself than her feelings. 3 simple words could’ve comforted her and he just couldn’t do it… until his conversation with will? it’s crazy to think about. that’s why all the excuses are just ridiculous. el deserves so much better than this. she deserves to find someone that loves her for who she is, that shares the same interests as her, that she can fully be herself around, and that doesn't care about her powers.

will: his feelings for mike shouldn’t have been used as a plot device to force mike and el back together when they can’t even sort out their own relationship problems. using a gay character’s feelings when he has been abused, targeted, bullied, lonely and suffering since the very beginning of the show is absolutely cruel and unnecessary. he hasn’t even had a moment of happiness and he thinks he’ll never experience love because of his sexuality. it's even more heartbreaking knowing he has loved mike since the beginning but he thinks mike will never love him back and he has to watch him with someone else while he gets pushed to the side. speaking of being pushed to the side, the way mike treated will in season 3 and 4 (especially how he couldn't hug him at the airport) makes absolutely no sense unless he has repressed feelings for will and internalised homophobia because otherwise, mike is just an asshole and there was no need for any of that. his relationship with el never should've affected his relationship with will, especially because will has been his best friend since they were 4 years old and they have the closest relationship in the entire show. also, will's painting for mike was supposed to be a special moment between them only. his love confession was also the most beautiful and genuine thing and it made mike so happy, but he used el’s name to disguise it and it was so painful and heartbreaking to watch. will is also the only reason mike said his monologue to el because he was so inspired by the painting and car monologue and thought it was all from el when it wasn't. it was all from will. even when el was in danger, will still had to push mike to say it. and yet, will is still lonely and heartbroken after being so kind and selfless to everyone around him? he still doesn't get to be happy after everything he's been through? it’s just not fair. they can’t keep doing this to him.

mike: he’s just simply been reduced to el’s boyfriend. we barely even know him anymore and he doesn’t get his own moments. his entire arc this season revolved around not being able to tell el he loved her. like are you actually kidding me? he did nothing this season except be part of el's storyline. he also changes so much when he’s around her. it’s so ridiculous and unfair and his friends have been hurt because of it too. he shouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not in order to impress el. i also feel like so many people forget how much trauma mike has been through and we don’t even get to see any of it. we don’t get to see his POV or feelings or understand what’s going on inside his head. his entire character just revolves around el and it’s not fair. he also deserves to be with someone he feels comfortable with and can actually be himself around. mike has to hide his own interests and he feels embarrassed about himself when he’s with el and he shouldn’t feel like that in his own relationship. sure, some people might use the excuse “they’re just kids” (as always), but it doesn’t change the fact that this has been going on since their relationship started and they’ve never truly felt like equals. they’ve always been different and they always will be. mike deserves to be with someone that loves him for exactly who he is and that brings out the best in him. someone who makes him feel safe and comfortable for being nerdy and passionate. someone who can give him the love he wants and needs. it’s just sad (and unhealthy) to see him in a relationship where he changes so much and obsesses over his girlfriend and treats his friends like garbage to the point where he becomes the most disliked character in the show and the general audience can’t stand him. like if that doesn’t say a lot about how this relationship isn’t good for this character, i don’t know what does.

[neko-rogers]

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship, 

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

     A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

     “It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

     You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

     Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

     But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is. 

     Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

     “Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

     In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike. 

     The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

     You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

     Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day. 

     To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

     And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

     “Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

     In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

     “It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

     “Oh okay, sure.”

     “Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

     “I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

     As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

     “I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

     Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

     You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

     You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

     “What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

     Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

     “I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

     Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

      He does not argue with you any further.

     “Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs. 

     At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

     “Okay.”

     He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

     “Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

     Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

     Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

     God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

     “Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

     As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

     “It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

     “Are you sure? I–”

     And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.” 

     “Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

     One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

     “Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

     “Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

     There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same. 

     “It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

     “I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

     Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

     “Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.” 

     In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     “I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face. 

     “Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

     “I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

     It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you. 

     “Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

     You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

     “Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

     “And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

     “Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

      Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

     “I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

     “Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

     “I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

     His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

     The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

     With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

     “Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

     Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

     It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

     You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

     You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

     Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

     He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

     The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

     “Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.” 

     As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

     Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

     As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

     When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

     At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

     The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

     You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

     This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

     Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow. 

     And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

     From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

     It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

     Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

      Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

     Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

     In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

     “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

     “Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

     You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

     “Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

     Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

     You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

     “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

     Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

     After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

     “Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

    ��“Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

     “Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

     You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

     “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

     Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

     “Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

     Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

     “I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

     “Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

     “Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

     “Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

     “Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

     “Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

     “Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

     “It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

     “Uhm.” You were doubtful of him. 

     However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

     “Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

     “Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

     “I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

     Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

     “Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

     An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

     Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

     If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

     True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

     At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

     In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

     “Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

     “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

     As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

     For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

     Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

     You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

     “Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

     “No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

     He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

     Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

     He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

     “I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones. 

     You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

     “Was is it?”

     “I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

     It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

     “Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

     Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

     “Peter, I–”

     “Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

     What. The. Fuck.

     “No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

     The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

     Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

     Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

     Lastly, you turned around and ran.

     You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

     Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

     Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

     You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

     “Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

     You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void. 

     From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

     Hell please let this be a nightmare.

     “What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

     Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

     Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

     “Uhh.”

     That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

     When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

     As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

     Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

     On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

     “Fuck,” you grumble.

     “That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

     “Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess. 

     “If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

     Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

     Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

     Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

     You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

     “Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”      “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

     Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

     “Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

     “We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

     No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

     “Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

     “I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

     You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

     Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

     “What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face. 

     “P-please let me go.”

     “I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate. 

     Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

     “Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

     As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

     He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

     “I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

     Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

     “I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

     You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

     “You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words. 

     “Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

     It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

     “Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper. 

     Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

     “I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

     “No–”

     He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

     “You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

     Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

     Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

     You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

     His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

     “Sorry, babe.”

     He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your  skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

     Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

     “Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

     Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

     Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

     You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

     “You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

     Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

     Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

     “Oh,” you moan.

     He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

     “I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

     Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

     You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

     “You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

     The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

     But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

     As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

     He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

     There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

     The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

     “Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

     “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

     Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

     Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

     “We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

     He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

     You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

     Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

     As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

     The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

     Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

     And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

     You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

     The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

     “I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

[analysis-by-a-muffin]

RGG: Majima and Toxic Masculinity

It's really not like the writers themselves try desperately hard to force the audience to see Majima Goro as a totally heterosexual and completely straight acting man. However, some circles of the audience haven't gotten the memo and will harshly defend the honor of a man who's not real. As much as I've easily come across those that are accepting and fans that are queer themselves, I've also crossed paths with loud bi/homophobes who try to attack or pester those that don't see him the same way they do. In truth, I've never seen such a large concentration of people who are starkly against the notion that a fictional character could be bisexual or gay. (With a concerning amount of people who seem to outright refuse to believe bisexuality is even a viable orientation. He must be one or the other). And as I stated at the beginning, the writers aren't giving him a new girl every game. He's had less romantic interests of the opposite sex than Kiryu- a very un-horny man who's had at least four(or five) if you want to include his place in spinoff games Kenzan and Ishin.

It's nothing new to any fandom (and it's nothing new for me to bring it up), but it can still be upsetting and frustrating to watch bigoted people parade around a specific character in a series you enjoy. All while claiming they know them better than anyone else. I go through this with Sora from Kingdom Hearts who's another character that isn't exactly the poster child for traditional masculinity, and other characters of that specific variety.

Majima has only had two female love interests across the series so far, and we only see him interact with one of them while we're left up to the word of other characters outside his POV for the second interest. While he clearly cared a lot for Makoto, the Majima Saga of Kiwami 2 reveals she's started a family and will soon be living in another country. She's got her own life; a much better and happier one. Yet, she's still used by some as a prop for the sake of Majima being viewed as hetero, and some still want him to be hung up on a woman he loved over two decades ago. I can't deny that it starts to feel desperate and creepy. Him meeting her again just gave him a chance to see how well she's doing for herself and move on from that. I also can't deny it's frustrating to watch people treat Makoto in a way that completely denies her her own character in order to do what they think will make Majima happy.

As depicted by Goromi, and his pink dump trucks that debuted in Y3, Majima must be a fan of the flashiest shades of pink. Having a drag persona alone is something I think would turn certain fans away from him. It does to some small degree. Spinoffs like Dead Souls feature Majima being even more openly queer or disinterested in women than he is for the most part in the main games. While not canon, he's still depicted as being really into Daigo crossdressing and asking him if he's "ever thought of switchin sides." He gets genuinely disgruntled over not being able to kiss him, too. In Kenzan, he doesn't gain any feelings toward a woman he's lived with for a while, choosing to instead view her as a sister. (His treatment of the cabaret girls in 0 is similar. No attraction, just slightly younger women he views as if they're his daughters). Kiryu is the one who ends up with her for a year. This isn't even scratching the surface of multiple actions from Majima and things he's said during the main games. Viewing Majima as queer is nothing invalid, but at the same time, no one should be treated as if they have to pull out a novel to defend themselves from attackers.

The homophobia rears its ugly head in a format that I haven't seen jumped on a lot for other characters. "Majima isn't gay or bi. He's just crazy." It's the most absurd thing I've seen someone say on this topic to be honest about it. Shrugging away the perception of him not being straight by claiming any non-heteronormative behavior is the product of him just being a zany guy who seeks to strike fear and intimidate other men? Is he only stable minded when it involves women? That's sadly not all this mindset involves. There tends to be a push from those who aren't comfortable with their own orientations to not apply labels to characters. Claiming that queer people attaching queer labels to characters is wrong, but it's totally okay to call these same characters straight is hypocritical. Heterosexuality is also a label. Ironically, those with their own discomforts tend to praise and refer to Majima as a man who's just really comfortable with himself. Nothing more, nothing less.

All in all, people should be allowed to see this fictional character how they want. I have my grievances and disagreements with some fans, but the important thing is that I never go out of my way to start fights. Or start a random argument as if someone was waiting with baited breath to know my unasked for opinion.

[wasflypaw]

Cant help but notice every single time I've gotten into an argument on here it's from people twisting my words

Like the c!Jack thing?? I still have c!Jack fans who've blocked me from that and I still think about it like every day. This was Before the specific deaths were Confirmed Canon and I was like "it doesnt make sense for c!Tommy to have murdered someone canonically and these canon deaths dont function like other canon deaths do" n people were like "TOMMY STAN??? TOMMY STAN INVALIDATES JACKS ENTIRE ARC???" I am a c!Jack enthusiast who has been watching him since August 3rd 2020 specifically I have made essays going into detail the trauma he's gotten and how that has affected him as a person

The c!Philza thing... when I literally just said Philza sounded more disappointed than mad (not that he's Not mad) and people who are weirdly normalized to responding with hostility in arguments prioritizing defending a fictional character over being nice to the person ur talking to were like "SO UR SAYING HE'S A BAD DAD HUH UR SAYING HE'S PLAYING INTO THE DISAPPOINTED DAD STEREOTYPE" And it's just like huh. What. No 😭 I never even believed c!Philza was c!Tommy's dad

And this??? Me saying it doesnt feel like I'm watching a character that's been tortured for like 3 months because of things like the sudden tonal dissonance and answering one ask that pretty much said "its okay to criticise the acting as Dream himself has not been through that" ("that" being months worth of torture in a prison cell) and ppl come into my askbox like. "YOU INVALIDATE C!DREAM'S TRAUMA? YOU ACCUSE CC!DREAM OF NOT ACTUALLY BEING IN AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP?" and it's like WHEN the hell did I mention Dream's personal life

God and I just Knooooow the c!Techno apologist side of the fandom thinks of me as "that one guy that was very c!Techno critical" back from when I was admittedly a lot more biased and didnt put as much effort into my analysis. Not only do I not even Dislike c!Techno anymore I barely talk about him

Cant help but think if my fav character wasnt c!Tommy people wouldnt react like this - the same way they react when c!Tommy interacts with their faves. I'm reduced down to "that one c!Tommy apologist" and therefore all my arguments are "c!Tommy stan invalidating c!Jack's character :/" "c!Tommy stan calling c!Philza a bad dad ugh" "c!Tommy stan hating on c!Dream because he hurt their fav" and their shitty "I bet you only watch Tommy's POV" and it's like. Christ some people act like c!Tommy (..and Tommy himself) ruins everything he touches. Anyway if ur wondering why I've been talking about c!Tommy a Lot Less and talking more about other characters I'm an enthusiast for instead its cause I Hate being known as "that one c!Tommy apologist" bc people repeatedly use that as an excuse to ignore every argument I make

I cant help but think...... my reputation from around January-March has permanently ruined how people see my blog and I just. Kinda wanna start over :/

[pulaasul]

It’s 2021 and the Tadashi’s death discourse is still going strong.

I did not expect that the movie released on November 2014 still had strong discourse material, and of course, wouldn’t you know it, its about Tadashi’s death.

I cannot believe that after more than six years since Big Hero 6 has been released, we are still arguing about Tadashi’s death. Which might I remind everyone, caused some other tumblr user it to suicide bait a ‘Tadashi lives’ member.

Huh, I guess Tadashi being alive is an unpopular opinion.

But back from that tangential note, it is quite, as Tadashi would say, unbelievable, that this discourse topic has been going around for more than half a decade.

I will address the elephant in the room first, calling the members of that group as “thirsty on main for an older brother character” makes your argument almost invalid immediately, as you started off with a fallacy.

You then make a separate post by saying “of course, I did not mean all, but I mean if the shoe fits” that’s like saying “sorry, but not really” and wow, that’s some serious shade.

Another thing worthy to note is the fact that you’re making it as if there’s only one way of coping with grief. People finds solace in fictional depictions of grief, while others want to escape reality and find solace in fictional worlds.and both are healthy coping mechanisms for grief as opposed to lashing out at everyone every time you see a differing opinion than yours.

What grinds my gears regarding this topic was how people would say “You just don’t care about the narrative, or Hiro’s development.” Like please, I care so much about the narrative that I find that Tadashi’s entire character writing was inconsistent.

I am not denying that he probably had a life outside of Hiro and Aunt Cass, I am not denying that he has a group of friends that Hiro isn’t privy to, but you cannot deny that in the very first few minutes of the movie, we are literally introduced to Tadashi prioritizing Hiro over his school projects and assignments, then suddenly blurts out “Callaghan’s in there, someone has to help.”. You want me to believe that he’s okay with leaving Hiro near the burning building just to get inside, without making sure that his brother cannot follow him?

There’s no question about Tadashi’s hero complex. Tadashi’s like Harry Potter in that way, he has a thing with saving people, but the one key difference between Potter and Tadashi is that, the older Hamada has one person he prioritizes over other people, and that’s his brother. 

That’s why I subscribe to the idea that Tadashi’s death was just there for shock value, tragedy for tragedy’s sake, because of how inauthentic and forced the entire death scene was 

I am not demeaning how the movie dealt with grief, I think its one of the movies that has depicted grief well.

Having said that, it does not mean that people, the Tadashi lives crowd, are wholly unaware of what that represents for Hiro’s character writing and his arc but it feels disingenuous to assume that we do not care for Hiro and the narrative.It feels rude and condescending to say that “you entirely missed the point” or even “because you think he died wrong” please don’t put words in our mouths, we were calling out how it was out of character for Tadashi to act that way for that scene, no one was saying “he should have died against the villain” because you missed the entire point of the post.

I’ve seen a lot of really bad “Tadashi is dead and should stay dead” takes within the Big Hero 6 fandom space, from comparing him to the Waynes and Ben Parker, because frankly Tadashi’s circumstance and death really differs to what Ben and the Waynes represent for both Bruce and Peter,to “it’s simply isn’t realistic”, because frankly, the mere fact that Callaghan survived that fire was wholly unrealistic in and of itself [as the microbots should have baked Callaghan alive when he formed a dome to save himself from the flames] but you’re ignoring that fact.

Let’s then address another elephant, It also grinds my gears that wanting Tadashi back somehow means not caring for Hiro’s arc. Yes, Tadashi is back, but that doesn’t mean that everything Hiro went through is somehow gone, things will not return as they are, its bad writing to simply let Hiro continue living as if his brother did not die.

Tadashi being back does not cancel out Hiro’s grief.

[utilitycaster]

What’s your thoughts on tm9 suggesting working with Trent? Do you think tm9 are being “bad friends”? I have seen a lot of discussion on it and I was wondering what your thoughts are. Apologies if you have already shared your thoughts.

Hi anon,

I have shared at least some of my thoughts but, as always, give me an inch and I will take one thousand miles and then take one thousand more. If you wanted a normal answer, please click on that link and then feel free to stop reading. If you want me to yell about behaviors in fandom that fill me with rage (and also some additional thoughts about the Mighty Nein in this episode, to be fair, which I’ve marked so you can skip to it), read on.

GOOD FUCKING LORD I AM PRETTY SURE A CERTAIN SMALL BUT LOUD PORTION WITHIN FANDOM, AND THIS IS ABOUT FANDOM IN GENERAL AND NOT SPECIFIC TO THE CRITICAL ROLE, ACTUAL PLAY, NOR D&D FANDOM, HAS NEVER HAD A FUNCTIONAL FRIENDSHIP OR RELATIONSHIP IN THEIR LIVES WHAT WITH THE WAY THEY TALK ABOUT CHARACTER INTERACTIONS. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK.

I don’t think that any of the Mighty Nein were being at all inappropriate during this conversation in the first place, and more on that below, but also like, people say insensitive things to their friends all the time! It’s impossible to account for every situation that could potentially upset someone, and sometimes people need to have difficult conversations! I’ve said this before with people in private conversations but there is an exhausting amount of discourse for CR (but also, like, in general about fictional media by people who are Way Too Online) regarding who really understands and cares about whom and it’s like. They are all friends. They have all referred to each other as found family. They all care about each other. And with that in mind, it’s also true that if you or anyone else were to give me literally any pairing of two characters in the Nein, romantic or platonic, I can without considerable effort name an interaction in which one of them said or did something hurtful or insensitive to the other, because this is a thing that happens when different people with different perspectives and experiences talk to each other for any length of time.

A not-insignificant amount of discourse, in my opinion, has nothing to do with how real interpersonal relationships work and is entirely "this is my favorite/least favorite character (or ship) and I think everyone should also think they are flawless/terrible” and if I had to guess this is probably more of the same. But even if it’s not just that, the idea that the only “good” friendship is one devoid of arguments, slip-ups, and even the most minor of transgressions and anything else is “bad” or “toxic” is so divorced from reality I absolutely cannot engage with it without wanting to scream. Which is not to say that a single action by a friend, even a close one, could never be enough to invalidate the friendship. But it has to be a pretty significant and deliberate violation, and in my opinion the events of this episode do not even budge the needle.

With that out of the way before I return to it at the end: I think the overarching attitude of the Mighty Nein on the whole is “this is going to be an incredibly difficult fight, and we need to discuss all of our options, even distasteful ones that none of us particularly like.”

The linked post talks a lot about why I think Fjord brought it up in the first place, but from there, I would say that Yasha was the only one who was consistently on the side of “No,” which is in line with her character. We know Caduceus is fairly sure they’re going to die without additional help and has seen by far the most terrifying visions of what happens if they fail; that Jester likely has some similar ideas to Caleb regarding “if Trent’s with us, at least he’s not going after Marion”; and while Beau brought up the downsides of working with one’s abuser it’s highly worth noting she was still entertaining it: she floats that maybe this could kill two birds with one stone [2:01:10-ish on the Twitch video].

Veth strikes me as the one who came closest to “pushing” Caleb, and this has been a theme recently. I’m not fully sure about this - Veth is often a character I struggle to get a handle on - but I think it’s a combination of her family being at risk in the same way Jester’s is, her own feelings of guilt or shirked responsibility about leaving the Nein after this before Caleb has achieved his goals particularly given how instrumental he was to achieving hers, and a little bit of still seeing Caleb how he was earlier on, when they first met. That last reason is definitely frustrating when it happens in real life, but it’s a very real phenomenon, the first one is wholly understandable, and the middle one is both. Basically, are those actions a little selfish? Yeah, but people are selfish sometimes. There’s a reason why even when I don’t understand her Veth (and, tbh, all the Mighty Nein) feels like a wholly realized person, and it’s because of things like this, where she has real reactions and emotional turmoil in response to an incredibly stressful situation instead of being blandly understanding.

On top of that, anything that denies that Caleb was not entertaining it, particularly after he quite literally says he’s considered it, feels like ignoring his response because it doesn’t fit a particular narrative. It ignores the entire conversation with Essek, in which Caleb is the one who brings it up first, Caleb is the one who continues to argue for it after Essek expresses his discomfort, and Caleb is the one who says he’s frustrated that his attempt to persuade Essek fails.

Returning to the generalized rant but at what point do you (the abstract you, not you the anon) stop overlaying how you think someone should react and actually listen to people? One of the things in this world that genuinely angers me the most that isn’t, you know, atrocities, is when people assume how someone feels instead of asking them and persist in doing so even when told otherwise, and this is probably why the whole “the Mighty Nein are bad friends” statement has prompted such a strong response from me here. I don’t think I’m saying anything revolutionary here but all the arguments in favor of that statement are stupid! If you don’t ask for a hug, sometimes you won’t get one! If you don’t say you’re uncomfortable you can’t assume people will be aware of it! The realest distinction between good and bad friends, actually, is whether they listen to what you’re saying or if they just project what they think you should be saying, and whether they tell you what they want from you or if they make up elaborate unspoken rules that you’re supposed to magically intuit and follow. Not whether they never make mistakes, or disagree, or bring up difficult topics.

Uh, anyway, this is probably a whole lot more and maybe not even related to what you were looking for but really, the idea that a deep friendship can be reclassified into a binary from good to bad based on two conversations, and the related idea that every interaction that isn’t perfectly harmonious must have someone to blame instead of acknowledging the full depth and breadth of normal healthy interpersonal interactions, are both absolutely terrible ideas and I would love if people in general would immediately stop having them.