#I don’t even care I am just so exhausted like I cannot stress how little energy I have for immature people

[orchideius]

the overwhelming urge to cut all contact with everyone you know in your home town, move to another state, and start a completely new life……………………

I wish to move quietly during one summer night. apparate to a whole new place without telling a soul.

I wish to shed the version of me that’s been stuck here my entire life!

[ohbabydollie]

currently imagining a jaded, deadpan lit teacher!schlatt. super intelligent, incredible teacher that all his students adore and love to learn from, but they all swear to god they’ve never seen him smile once

then comes along absolute ray of sunshine teacher!y/n, probably teaching some kind of fine art, and it is just like a moth to a flame. he cannot stay away from you!

you meet for the first time in the teacher’s lounge and he’s a little taken aback, he doesn’t know what it is about you but something makes his little brain flip a switch and it’s all sunshine and rainbows. not much longer after that, you start becoming friends, sharing cool little things about your interests or the subjects you teach.

he does a pretty good job of hiding these feelings from the kids, just because he wants to keep that side of him private from his students, but one day he slips up. you sneak in during a class of his during your free period to return a book he recommended to you. when you walked out, he had no idea that he was smiling but apparently the students noticed.

“mr. schlatt, were you just smiling?”

“finish your essay.”

also am i allowed to be 🥥 anon

ofc, welcome 🥥 anon

before you came along schlatt was the most obviously exhausted and stressed teacher, but his students loved him.

from stapling mcdonald’s job applications on failed tests to talking about his cats. his students very clearly loved him and adored him, but he just seemed so sad in a way, especially when one of them got him to talk about his dating life.

single, with multiple failed dates under his belt

then you transferred to the school after the last art teacher had quit.

he had heard about you from his students, the new young single art teacher making sure to emphasize on the single part, but he always told them to focus on getting their assignment done over focusing on the teachers dating lives.

he really didn’t care for you, probably would be done in a few weeks if you couldn’t handle how rowdy and rough some of these kids could be. he gave you a month at best.

then you came into the teacher’s lounge getting snack after snack out of the vending machine as he watched in silence. not out of judgement, but he was just mesmerized completely

the concentration on your face as you punched in number after number watching the snacks fall before grabbing a cardboard box to place it all in was all so adorable to him, he didn’t even realize he had been staring until you looked over at him with a big smile.

“hi, i don’t believe we’ve met!” you chirp, “i’m y/n the new art teacher” you say extending out a hand for him to shake. he politely takes it, giving you a semi-awkward smile

“i’m jay, i teach english in b103” he says feeling himself turn red

“oh wow! i’m only down the hall from you, my room is c102” you say parting from the hand shake and picking up your box “well i’ll see you around” you say pushing the door open

and just like that you were gone as soon as you came

and schlatt had a new goal in mind, you

the next period he had came back better than ever. his normally deadpan and tired voice had more excitement and life to it and his students noticed for sure, waiting until the lesson was over to pry into him, but they all got the same response.

“jus added a shot of expresó into my coffee this mornin” he says starting to grade the assignments from his last class.

they had assumed that was it, nothing more to it until the next week where he seemed to be radiating with joy, when they pried into him again all he said was, “jus had some coffee from my favorite spot this mornin, nothin else”

he hadn’t mentioned it was with you.

over the next few months they noticed more and more change, fixing his hair more often, wearing his nicer clothes and whatever he could to look better.

as a student asked “so who’s the lucky lady?”

you had walked in holding a book, causing the room to fall silent. you practically floated to his desk as everyone watched you.

“hey, thanks for letting me borrow your copy, it was really good” you say handing him the book

“oh..it’s no problem, anytime” he says softly as you smile

“ ‘kay, well i’ll see you later, oh and your glasses are a little smudged” you say heading to leave as he watches in awe.

once you’re out, he’s taking off his glasses, smiling to himself with a small chuckle as he cleans them off, basking in the moment, completely forgetting his students were there until someone speaks up.

“mr. schlatt, are you smiling?” he asks teasingly before schlatt immediately drops the smile and goes deadpan again

“finish your assignment before i fail you”

[hereforthefunnyguys]

Is it too insane to ask for your nsfw Irateshipping HCs?

no no it’s not insane I just usually try to keep the blog more pg-13/R rated than x rated. However…. I really want to talk about Irateshipping more. So imma just put some stuff under the cut. Honestly I’m more worried about not having enough stuff or frankly anything thats particularly sexy than I am about having it at all lmao

(nsfw text under the cut! You have been Warned) (Hoping the cut actually. Cuts where its supposed to lmao)

-marik ishtar praise kink goes crazy I don’t make the rules. Joey once accidentally called him a "good boy" during their first time together and he literally stopped functioning. Like complete windows crash bluescreen. Only refocused when Joey sat up and shook him a little because what if he accidentally killed him with sex somehow

-Joey is actually the more experienced of the two, which was really disappointing to him because he was really counting on the idea of his sexy criminal femme fatale boyfriend that knows 5000 different sex positions and instead got stuck with a nervy little freak that does not even know what lube is

-marik doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s very enthusiastic to try whatever sounds fun

-this is simultaneously contrasted with the fact that he cannot take much stimulation at once and gets nervous if he’s not in control (whether in a Sexy way or in a Panic Attack way is kind of a coin flip)

-Joey is kind of bad at sex the first few times tbh because he gets too nervous and ends up getting distracted and talking way too much and ruining the mood

-he seriously improves in focus and attractivenesss when marik is just like. Ok. You can do what you want physically but please. For the love of god. Stop talking in bed like that.

-Joey has a weird thing where the idea of losing control to marik is really hot but also simultaneously so absolutely terrifying and humiliating to him even in a private context that he’s just like “hmmmm stuffing that down to repress as well methinks”

-marik is perhaps a wee bit of a sadist, which does not mix well with the fact that he is also fairly submissive and wants to be cared for and cared about so bad it actually hurts

-def not a masochist though lmao

-“I want to make you feel good and make this very romantic and uh other stuff” Joey and “i have been working for 10 straight hours and just got yelled at by my dad and need to Destroy Something” Joey are two entirely different creatures in bed

-Joey, walking into the bedroom casually: Hey babe how's it go -

Marik, shaking visibly from stress: If you have sex with me right here right now and completely destroy my brain to the point i cannot think about the conversations i have had with my siblings today about what i will do with my life now that I am no longer a cult leader I swear I will literally give you whatever you want from me for at least three months

Joey:

Joey, cautiously patting Marik on the head while sitting down next to him: Okay not that that's not an incredibly hot offer but maybe let's talk about it first plea-

Marik, gripping Joey's leg hard enough to leave fingerprints: I understand that but if I have one more serious conversation today I'll start killing people again

-Marik head game goes crazy because of that long tongue until he gets too worked up and starts getting Bitey

-Joey head game mediocre because he has too much of a gag reflex but is very enthusiastic and drools a fuckton

-Marik dick game meh because he neither has the enthusiasm nor the stamina for it tbh. Gets bonus points because he has fairly good rhythm

-Joey is better because he definitely has the enthusiasm for it as well as the strength for it (plus hes stubborn enough to keep pushing even when hes exhausted lmao) but tbf tends to get really excited or distracted and so tends to be kind of irrhythmic

-i tend to not bring top/bottom Disc Horse (tm) up much but I do think Joey probably wouldn't bottom much due to both a lot of internalized perceptions about it and also because it sounds like it fuckin hurts to him lmao

-Marik is simultaneously split in between "I love my weird little pathetic creature that i occasionally allow to be graced by my divine presence in bed" and "I NEED HIM TO CRUSH MY NECK IN BETWEEN HIS BICEP AND FOREARM WHILE I GET SHOVED IN BETWEEN HIS PECS FUCK"

-In terms of like strict Dynamics i think they're probably both switches that tend to fall back into pretty gentle/vanilla dom/sub dynamic when they aren't trying anything in particular

-Joey kind of likes getting bossed around in bed but tends to argue with it if marik does not just make him shut the Fuck up because sometimes the joey instinct is stronger than the horny instinct

-I post a lot about them having fucked up gay sex but in a domestic situation I think the sex is actually pretty intimate and honestly probably one of the healthier aspects of their relationship

-At multiple times in their lives I think its probably what helps get them through the day especially Joey when he was still living with his dad and working through his debts like. just five minutes more of worrying 24/7 and struggling to survive until my beautiful boyfriend shows up and straddles my lap while kissing my forehead and removes every single goddamn thought i have ever had that isn't about him. yay :)

-suffice to say they are making it work in the bedroom

-I forgot to mention that occasionally yami marik will show up if marik gets too freaked out and that there is nothing more terrifying to joey than turning around post-afterglow and seeing a demon with hair bigger than it’s shoulders looking at you like he wants to suck the inside of your skin out in place of your previously very pretty and vulnerable boyfriend

-bonus genderbend edition: fem marik is definitely a pillow princess and joey is completely willing to deal with putting in the work because quote "have you seen her recently have you seen my beautiful girlfriend just look at her I would do anything for this sexy sexy living identity crisis on stilts"

-fem marik: I want strap this is no longer a want nor a need but rather a Demand

[tapewormin]

Can I ask you about your autism? Are you able to lie to people like if someone asked you if their outfit looked nice would you still say yes because you recognise if you don’t it would upset them? Cause my therapist thought I might have autism but she has said that if I wouldn’t do that then I probably don’t

I can talk about my autism a bit but to preface

1: I’m still fairly new out on my autism journey after years of denial

2: Unfortunately most professionals don’t know jack diddly about how autism actually works, including but not limited to maybe the therapist you’re seeing and also actual specialists for autism.

Yes, I can and do ‘white lie’ as the allistics like to call it in social situations. In fact, a lot of the only reason why I am able to function socially is keeping in mind how much allistics loooove being ‘lied to’. I however also went through really brutal social retraining out of necessity as a kid when I, and I am what is often considered to be a moderate to high functioning autistic person.

To me, a lot of allistic interaction is not honest, so in my very black-and-white functioning mind, if it’s not total honesty, it’s a lie. This is how my brain personally handles allistic socialization. Lies, half-truths, and going against my personal social sense of always providing completely honest and exhaustive answers to social prompts is how I have handled social interactions with allistics for a very very long time. This is probably not healthy (I honestly don’t know??) but it works very well and on the surface, to most people, I pass as an extroverted allistic person. It tends to fall apart when I cannot mask as well- if I’m under stress or emotional, if I’m overstimulated, if I’m mentally exhausted, or if I’m put in a situation or printed with something I’m unfamiliar with and haven’t practiced, it becomes very difficult for me to maintain the illusion. In terms of your question specifically, if it’s a stranger/coworker/etc- yeah I would simply flat out lie even if it’s atrocious. I simply do not know them well enough to care to offer them feedback, nor do I want them getting upset with me over a question they asked. If it’s a close friend or family member obviously looking for actual feedback- it’s a little more complicated for me. I would want to be honest but I tend to be ‘brutally honest’ aka blunt af, so I have to be super careful to like, dress it up and sugar coat it a lot and pepper compliments in there bc allistics get their feelings hurt really easily by bluntness even if the blunt comment is not inherently mean, they just personally feel like it was supposed to be mean. I can recognize allistic people have feelings attached to how I respond to things but that doesn’t mean I’m necessarily good at answering in a way that WON’T hurt feelings, since my social compass is working on different settings from theirs. ANYWAYS Autism comes in a lot of shapes and sizes and this really is personally just a snippet of how functioning and coping operates for me. Some autistic people are much ‘better’ than me at picking up allistic subtext, patterns, ext. Some autistic people are ‘worse’ at it. A single and highly variable question like that is not enough to determine whether or not someone has autism. We all have slightly different toolsets and ways of handling a world that is inherently aggressive to us. If you have not already, I would HIGHLY recommend taking the RAADS-R and the Autism Quotient tests online. While not used for official diagnosis, they are really helpful to understanding yourself and can be used with the right leverage in professional settings to help you have your autism acknowledged and receive the accommodations you need to be a healthier and happier functioning person. Many PROFESSIONAL AUTISM SPECIALISTS use tests that are highly outdated compared to the RAADS-R and Autism Quotient and are only trained to see the very crude and outdated caricatures of what autistic people look like. Many have no idea about what it even means for autism to be a spectrum and how it can change the experience so wildly between two people.

I wish you much happiness, self love, and hopefully a smooth journey! Remember always that regardless of the outcome, you are doing your best to live authentically and understand yourself.

Autism can be a beautiful thing. GLHF!

[tentacledtherapist]

Dearest Lisa,

I have missed writing to you, but I have had what feels like the longest month of my life. It truly feels like my body is decaying away sometimes, and never do I get a break.

Only now, just before dawn, do I write to you, sitting under the low hanging aurora borealis that skirts farther south than normal today, deep in the wilderness on the other side of the country, as the fog clears over the lake. My only moment of peace, after I have been running and running and running, and I slow to a stop here and think of you. And I know it is time to write.

Things have been busy! Normally after a weekend where I am very active I need nearly a week to rest (as I mentioned my body is truly falling apart!) But I haven't had a single moments rest this month so the feeling like I am running is true to form. I've had business every single weekend and other business and doctors nonsense during the week. I'm preparing for a mild surgery next week (hence all my appointments) and since I won't be able to do anything while recovering I obviously had to make up for it in the month running up to it. Hopefully all goes well? If only I truly could just be stitched together and be done with it. Probably easier to deal with it that way, hobble along with a new leg or hand or whatever immediately rather then this fabled "bed rest" that's all the rage these days~! I did get some x-rays in preparation if you'd like to see them. Not exactly a face reveal but they're fun to look at that's for sure. (Is it weird I think my spine looks pretty? It's an experience to see your own Vertebrae.)

I really hope you're doing well. How has your project been going? I cannot wait for you to post the final result. Anything particularly interesting happen while I was away? I thought of you often even amidst the chaos!

Take care,

Your Creature

adam!

oh, creech, i missed you! i was worried. i hoped you were okay but i didn’t know what you were going through and i didn’t want to add to any potential stress so i figured i would just wait until you were able to talk again. i thought about you a lot, hoping you were well. i’m glad you are (at least relatively)

i get the struggle when it feels like your body is falling apart. just last year i spent every weekend in a different doctor’s office trying to figure out why my joints were suddenly shutting down. lots of poking and prodding and x-rays and MRIs and blood tests, i felt like a pincushion. (as it turns out, my white blood cells are hyperactive, and have been attacking the healthy tissue in my joints! i also have 1/3 of a thyroid cause of that!) i’m sorry you have to go through this all now. it’s exhausting and disheartening and monetarily draining to be constantly in and out of doctors offices. i’m glad you’ll be getting some rest at least post surgery. I hope it all goes well for you, i know how stressful surgery is

i would like to see x-rays, if you’d like to share them! i don’t think it’s particularly odd to think your own spine is pretty, it is a very cool series of bones. i wish my doctors had sent me copies of my MRIs and x-rays to hang onto, but all i have are memories…

my project has unfortunately been put on hold. i have all the pieces together but i have very little time to actually work on it. i’m in the final stages of my thesis as it stands right now, so i have only a few weeks to get it to its final draft of this stage! stressful stuff. in between working on my paper, i’ve also been spending time at the encampments on my campus. mine has been mostly peaceful because the mayor of my city has been very outspoken in calling off the police that my chancellor keeps calling in, but it is scary. i’ve had a gun pointed at me in a school environment multiple times, but it doesn’t get less intimidating. regardless, i refuse to stand by while israel commits genocide “in my name” just because i’m jewish or whatever (even though that’s very clearly not their motivation nor is it any of the other things they’re spouting.)

i didn’t get lucky enough to see the aurora, unfortunately. it supposedly was visible as far south as where i live, but i wasn’t able to see it through light pollution and cloud cover. i have photos from some friends farther north, but i didn’t get to see it myself

it must have been beautiful

- Your Lisa

[lightspren]

i am. so very stressed.

my dads health is apparently in the toilet. but of course he and mom aren’t telling us this (until mom got so stressed she had to vent to my sister, who told me). and since we’re not supposed to know we can’t just go help with the things they need help with or dad would get mad and either cause problems for mom or cause himself a cardiac event.

(bonus stress: perpetual guilt that i don’t go see them enough, or my in laws for that matter)

i have to go to my sisters tomorrow and play with the kids and it is fun, i do enjoy it, but they’re so exhausting. it’s so loud and it’s so much and i’m just not good at dealing with it. but i love the kids so i’ll go. plus my brother will be there with the baby and i wanna see her too

my yard is a wreck. I didn’t do any garden this year because i’m still terrified of bugs from the incidents last year. and we’ve both been sick so no chance of taking care of the grass. and there’s weeds growing up everywhere that I haven’t dealt with. and frankly don’t know when i’ll be physically able and have the time to deal with them. plus the junk on the carport that’s needed dealt with for like. years at this point i think.

then inside needs vacuumed and dishes and deep clean the kitchen and bathroom and junk needs removed and on and on and on. and on. plus repair things like the leaky pipe and the ceiling peeling off in the bathroom. plus the dishwasher we bought literal years ago but never got to installing because i cannot get my shit together enough to get the supplies and get my brother in law to come help do it

oh and i just remembered the plushies i told the kids i’d make like nine months ago that are still in various pieces.

then oh as if i’m not complaining enough i’m over here tearing myself apart over thinking i’m not a good writer and am wasting my time (and i don’t need a speech about “enjoying the process”—I usually do enjoy the process. but I also desperately want my story to be shared with other people, and I can’t tell if it’s too shitty and self indulgent for that or not)

and also. the respiratory infection seems finally mostly clear. still have a bit of a cough but it’s getting better. so i’m just fucking sitting here *waiting* to see what the next fuckery is, because I’ve been in this cycle since January and i’m quite certain it isn’t just going to stop

it’s just. they’re all little things. especially in the grand scheme of The World. they’re all little things!!! they’re all little things that have piled up into big things and now each and every one of them seems completely insurmountable. i am exhausted and I just want to rest. GOD i want to rest. but even when i plan downtime i have half this shit staring me in the face and letting guilt eat away at me for not doing Things.

and i know right now i need to sleep but it’s a bandaid. this feeling is still under the surface at all times, the gnawing grinding guilt of it all, of being a failure of an adult.

and i don’t have a point here. I don’t need told that i deserve to rest or that i’m not failing. conceptually i recognize that this is an overreaction. but it still feels real and the fact of the matter is that I have no idea how I’m supposed to manage dealing with all of this shit. especially when I just want to sleep and never leave my house. the end.

[fayerieetale]

11.16.23 // 1:50

a reality check

Third year midterm exams passed unnoticed. I didn’t feel hopeless, burnout, or down during the past two weeks. It was long hours of ceaseless studying and school works. There were times I was forcing myself to cry to release the stress, but I couldn’t, not really. Until last night.

The night before that, I had a bout of anxiety attack. That was the second episode i had since 2020. I think the stress and emotions from the past month have finally caught up, cause I suddenly found myself unmotivated, empty and restless, and crying in the middle of the night. I was talking to my friend telling that I wasn’t in the disposition to study for the night, and that I felt I was floating, and then suddenly I was crying. I was sobbing. Warm big tears. And my nasolacrimal ducts, I’d like to believe, are not obstructed.

Maybe part of the insidious exhaustion is my choice on studying more than hanging out. I realized that sometimes you have to choose on being social and being academically responsible. The people I used to hang out with have noticed that I’m socially lying low. They think that I have a problem with them, and that I’m keeping a grudge on something immature. I’m being misunderstood for choosing to study over gossiping and partying. Yes, people find that boring, it’s an affront to nature. But what bores me the most are graceless people who only know to party and cannot mentally stimulate me, and who keep sparking meaningless conversations because they’re intimidated by my silence. I do not need to fit anyone’s fantasy or definition of “fun” because most of the time I find them boring as well.

They call me too individualistic. Selfish. These are the people I helped during exams and quizzes. And I’m being called selfish just because I’m choosing myself. There is no buddy. I am on my own.

The only kind gesture that I had this week was someone telling me I’m f***** cool, which was accompanied by a cup of coffee. No, I do not need validation, but it’s, apparently, an emotional need of man every now and then.

I am very much thankful to the supportive people around me who cheer me up during exams or even little quizzes, who kept asking how it went, if I’m feeling better or so. Such a juxtaposition on my remarks of I can take care of myself. Maybe because I was viewed as independent, responsible, and strong, people closer to me have assumed that I don’t need some caring. Sometimes I do, and I get hurt too.

[thequietuptown]

How do you deal with it all? How is anyone not overwhelmed by everything that's going on? I don't know how I'm going to survive this latest disaster.

My dear friend, It’s a lot. I think most of us are getting tired of historic events that are happening in our lifetime. Our society appears to be collapsing around us, and it’s hard to think about making something new from the rubble, when you’re not even sure how to survive the fall. These past few years, feeding on division, especially have been pulling all of us down. When you have to lift the Earth just to take a step, it makes sense that you’re tired. I’m tired, too.

That being said, I do think there are things you can do to help mitigate that stress. First, none of this is your fault. I’m not going to say it’s not your responsibility because I think at this point we all have a responsibility to work towards a better tomorrow, and when society develops cancer, we all must seek treatment. But it is absolutely not your fault, and no one expects a single person to change the world. It’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to feel like giving up. You have to take care of yourself. Know your role. Help out how you can. Know that not everyone is needed on every front line. Carry your share on your terms. Allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling, and listen when your body needs rest. Fighting through exhaustion will only leave you broken.

Along the lines of knowing what is your responsibility, take stock in what is not your responsibility. I know the concept of gratitude gets thrown around a lot, but so much of the conversation around it revolves around things that bring you joy, and when you’re feeling down and out, that’s not always helpful. “I can’t imagine getting off the couch, but my cat sure is cute.” That’s all well and good, and practicing gratitude consistently is absolutely a valid form of cognitive behavioral therapy, but as self-care isn’t just bubble baths and quiet, meditative walks in nature (it’s also about doing the hard work of establishing boundaries and being emotionally honest and vulnerable), gratitude isn’t just the things that bring you a modicum of happiness. What are the things you don’t have to worry about? It’s not even about prioritizing. Think huge to start with. You don’t have to worry about the sun being there. You don’t have to worry about the planet spinning. This kind of focusing can help find out where you can redirect energy, and eventually you can maybe start thinking about things you can delegate, or things that you can prioritize.

When you’re starting to feel a little more up to it, that’s when that gratitude and those basic, in the colloquial sense, self-care techniques become valuable. Meditate. Breathe. Do whatever you need to do so that you feel stable and grounded. If mantras work for you, find one that serves to center you. It’s not always about moving forward. Sometimes it’s about needing to take in your surroundings just to know where you stand. And that’s okay!

When you do find yourself needing to stand still, that is often the best time so look for those around you. Talk about what you’re feeling, and actively listen to what others are saying. Not only are you probably going to find someone who can offer you empathy and validation, when you feel like you cannot do those things for yourself, but you can return that incredibly valuable service, and you may learn something. Different perspectives tend to see different things, and if everyone in the conversation is only seeing part of the picture, it’s going to be hard to see what’s going on. You may have valuable information for someone else. Someone else may excel at something you’re struggling with. Real systemic change simply cannot happen from the top down in a living society that has its own survival instincts. More than ever, community is what matters.

Thank you for talking with me, friend. Please know that I am here to listen and help however I can. You are not alone in this.

[that-ot-over-there]

Looking back so I can move forward.

My favorite Disney movie in the whole world is Mulan. The fearless Asian female fighting to stop The Huns from invading China. She was everything I wanted to be and a huge part of her character development during the movie was reflection. “When will my reflection show who I am inside.” (Wilder, 1998) Her struggle was on how to show her true self, how to express all the things she was feeling. Eventually she went on to become a soldier and won the war. Talk about channeling your feelings, right? I feel like my form of expression are these blogs.

Over these past few weeks, I have experienced a lot. Nothing can really prepare you to take on the responsibility of a whole community. A multitude of problems, all slightly interlinked yet all so different and of course I want to help them all. It’s just that little voice in my head saying, that it’s the right thing to do. I like to liken myself to Olivia Pope from the series Scandal where she is referred to as “The Fixer”. (See this video clip if you don’t know what I am talking about: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGRND_KfIZQ ) I relate to her because she had to work on a tight schedule with multiple clients while still maintaining a social life and daily life tasks. Just like her, I learnt the importance of preparedness and the value of thinking ahead, although I did it rather late. Setting a schedule allows you to see into the future. It could have eased my mental health as well as I could have prepared for problems and had a more positive outlook on their solutions. (Buchanan, 2017) It also could have helped me become more innovative in my ideas. (Smith, 2014) (see this article on becoming more innovative health care professionals: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/eje.12472 )  Having the time to test my ideas would have let me see if they were beneficial and see how I could adapt them better to my client’s needs. This is a mindset I will definitely take into my next block. I would have also been able to take a step back and look at the community as a whole and identify the more intricate problems in their society. This could have been beneficial to the community members as I could have understood them better. 

A reminder to the OT in me – if I allow myself to think through holistic treatment sessions, I become a holistic therapist.

On a more personal note, I learnt two opposing things which need to work in harmony for one to truly thrive. Push yourself harder and love yourself more.

I am a procrastinator. I won’t deny it. And I try and justify it to myself by saying that I work better under pressure but we all know I only do it then because I absolutely have to. That also causes me a lot of stress which doesn’t only affect my mind, but my body too. My back is constantly tight, I am always exhausted, even my bowels are off their routine. (for a more complete understanding of what stress can do to your body, read this article: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5579396/ ) I have come to realize that I have to look out for me and stop justifying my bad behavior. But I also live a very busy lifestyle. With soccer 2 times a week and sometimes matches on the weekend, weekly family dinners and the immense brain power that I spend on my Wordle every day. (this is the most stimulating game to me: https://www.nytimes.com/games/wordle/index.html ) Something I also had to learn was to manage my energy, not my time. (Kos, 2021) Prioritizing tasks which weren’t as demanding during those late nights, would have helped me get more done. Speaking of those late nights, those need to stop and that’s where loving myself more comes in. I cannot keep testing my body’s limits when it comes to basic needs. Sleep and food have got be a priority. I also can’t even function properly without both of them and they are even linked. (Sampson, 2021) When you love something, you take care of it so maybe by loving myself more, I can trick myself into doing what’s good for me. This is something I would love to translate into the communities I am in. I want, not only myself, but everyone in the community to love the place they are in. I want them to feel proud of where they come from. But that can only be done when we get rid of all the negativity like gender inequality, violence and the lack of decent quality of life. And that is something that the community taught me. You have to get the bad out to welcome the good.

So even with the good, the bad and the ugly crying – I made it… well almost. And I learnt so much along the way. The mistakes I made were necessary. I was learning and now that I have fought my fight, just like Mulan, her father’s words resonate in my head…

no caption needed. *mic drop*

References  

Buchanan, P.  (2017, September 24). The importance of being prepared for all of life's  possibilities. Retrieved from Albany Herald:  https://www.albanyherald.com/the-importance-of-being-prepared-for-all-of-lifes-possibilities/article_c0740669-330b-53a1-aa24-328a1245cc88.html#:~:text=Being%20proactive%20is%20about%20taking,stay%20in%20control%20and%20succeed.

Kos, B. (2021,  March 24). 11 proven tips to stop procrastinating once and for all.  Retrieved from Spica: https://www.spica.com/blog/how-to-stop-procrastinating

Sampson, S.  (2021, December 15). The Effects of Sleep Deprivation on Your Body.  Retrieved from Healthline:  https://www.healthline.com/health/sleep-deprivation/effects-on-body

Smith, B. (2014,  April 24). 7 ways to train yourself to be a forward thinker. Retrieved  from The Business Journals :  https://www.bizjournals.com/bizjournals/how-to/growth-strategies/2014/04/7-ways-to-train-yourself-to-be-a-forward-thinker.html

Wilder, M.  (1998). Reflection [Recorded by C. Aguilera].

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

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

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

[gatheringbones]

["I am anti-Semitic. I am not writing this from a position of moral exemption. My hands are not clean, because like other non-Jews in this society I have swallowed anti-Semitism simply by living here, whether I wanted to or not. At times I've said, fully believing it, that I was not taught anti-Semitism at home growing up in Cleveland in the 1950's. In comparison to the rabid anti-Semitism as well as racism that many white people convey to their children as matter-of-factly as they teach them the alphabet and how to tie their shoes, my perception of what was going on in my house is accurate. But only relatively.

On rare occasions things were said about Jews by members of my family, just as comments were made about white people in general, and about Cleveland's numerous European immigrant groups in particular. My family had "emigrated" too from the rural South during the 1920's, 30's, and 40's and their major observation about Jewish and other white people was that they could come to this country with nothing and in a relatively short period "make it." Our people, on the other hand, had been here for centuries and continued to occupy a permanent position on society's bottom. When I was growing up there were Jewish people living in Shaker Heights, one of the richest suburbs in the U.S., where Blacks were not allowed to purchase property even if they had the money, which most, of course, did not. The fact that Jews were completely barred from other suburbs and perhaps restricted to certain sections of Shaker Heights was not of great import to us. I remember vividly when my aunt and uncle (my mother's sister and brother) were each trying to buy houses in the 1950's. They searched for months on end because so many neighborhoods in the inner city including working-class ones were also racially segregated. I was six or seven, but I remember their exhausted night-time conversations about the problem of where they might be able to move. I felt their anger, frustration, and shame that they could not provide for their families on such a basic level. The problem was white people, segregation, and racism. Some Jews were, of course, a part of that, but I don't remember them being especially singled out. I did not hear anti-Semitic epithets or a litany of stereotypes. I do remember my uncle saying more than once that when they didn't let "the Jew" in somewhere, he went and built his own. His words were edged with both envy and admiration. I got the message that these people knew how to take care of themselves, that we could learn a lesson from them and stop begging the white man for acceptance or even legal integration.

Despite how I was raised, what I've come to realize is that even if I didn't learn anti-Semitism at home, I learned it. I knew all the stereotypes and ugly words not just for Jews, but for every outcast group, including my own. Such knowledge goes with the territory. Classism, racism, homophobia, anti-Semitism, and sexism float in the air, are embedded in the very soil. No matter how cool things are at home, you catch them simply by walking out of the house and turning on the t.v. or opening up a newspaper inside the house. In the introduction to Home Girls, I wrote about the unsettling relationship to how I sometimes view other women of color:

Like many other Black women, I know very little about the lives of other Third World women. I want to know more and I also want to put myself into situations where I have to learn. It isn't easy because, for one thing, I keep discovering how deep my own prejudice goes. I feel so very American when I realize that simply by being Black I have not escaped the typical American ways of perceiving people who are different from myself.

I never believe white people when they tell me they aren't racist. I have no reason to. Depending on the person's actions I might possibly believe that they are actively engaged in opposing racism, are anti-racist, at the very same time they continue to be racially ignorant and cannot help but be influenced as white people by this system's hatred of people of color. Unwittingly, anti-racist whites may collude at times in the very system they are trying to fight. In her article, "Racism and Writing: Some Implications for White Lesbian Critics," Elly Bulkin incisively makes the distinction between the reality of being actively anti-racist and the illusion of being non-racist— that is, totally innocent. She applies to racism, as I do here to anti-Semitism, the understanding that it is neither possible nor necessary to be morally exempt in order to stand in opposition to oppression. I stress this point because I want everybody reading this, and particularly Black women, to know that I am not writing from the position of having solved anything and because I have also heard other Black women, white non-Jewish women, and at times myself say, "But I'm not anti-Semitic." This kind of denial effectively stops discussion, places the burden of "proof" upon the person(s) experiencing the oppression, and makes it nearly impossible ever to get to the stage of saying: "This is an intolerable situation. What are we going to do about it?"]

Barbara Smith, Yours In Struggle: Three Feminist Perspectives On Anti-Semitism and Racism, Firebrand Books, 1984

[carpisuns]

maryssa please post all of your marichat hot takes i need them for health reasons

please handle these absolutely scalding takes with care, miss mcwizzy. dont want u to hurt urself. also there are a lot of them so double warning aljsfasjldf

Carpisuns's Hot Marichat Takes That No One Asked For

omg WAIT.... for once someone actually DID ask for them SLKJFDJ ok scratch that

Carpisuns's Super Hot Marichat Takes That, Surprisingly, Someone Did Actually Ask For!! (And Will Probably Regret Asking for as Soon as They Click the Read More djdjdkdm)

marichat tropes are not any more tired/cringey than tropes for any other side of the square. like, what is the real difference between “princess” and “my lady” or a balcony date and a rooftop date lol. they’re all cute and also all have the potential to be overdone fjlaksdlj

the bell is immovable :) zipper is just for show

“chat noir” and “marinette” are not their “true selves.” and “adrien” and “ladybug” are not false/inauthentic versions of themselves. they are themselves all the time, but like any human their behavior changes depending on the situation. there isn’t like a separate list of “chat noir” traits and “adrien” traits or “marinette” traits and “ladybug” traits—all of their traits belong to them at all times whether they are suited up or not, and they are more than just the sum of their parts. they tend to be pretty comfortable interacting as marichat NOT because “they can finally show the real them” but because they both already know each other in another dynamic and there are no crushes or past rejections adding any pressure or uneasiness

marichat is not inherently sexist. yes, adrien wants to protect marinette, but that's not sexism; that's called being a caring friend. and marinette giving comfort to chat noir is not automatically playing into sexist gender roles. that is also being a caring friend. like in any good relationship, there is a healthy give and take. they protect and support and comfort each other. this how it is on all the sides which is why the love square is so great!

on a related note, there is no unhealthy power dynamic between marinette and chat noir. he doesn't think he's better than her because he's a superhero and she's "just a civilian"; he values her intelligence, creativity, skill, talent, strength, and leadership and would never consider her weak or look down on her in any way. and i wouldn’t really consider either of them the “leader” in this dynamic. outside of an active akuma situation they’re on pretty equal ground and i mean what is the power dynamic of two friends chillin’ lol

they take turns being the big/little spoon C:

marinette is not mad that chat likes her as “perfect ladybug” and not as “weak, clumsy marinette.” she has moments of insecurity when she is stressed but in general she has a pretty strong self-esteem and does not seek out or depend on chat noir’s affection for validation

stanning marichat does not mean hating ladrien!! ladrien is a dang good ship and if u don’t like it it then there is something sadly lacking in your understanding/appreciation of the love square—including marichat. also you are depriving yourself of something truly wonderful :(((

same if u hate marichat. most people have a favorite side of the square and that’s a-okay! but i fail to see how you can be a love square stan or a stan of any one side if you don’t enjoy and support all the other sides as well ??

ok but seriously for the love of everything please stop commenting on ladrien fics/art just to say “ladrien sucks, marichat supremacy!!1!!” -_- fun fact that actually makes everyone hate marichat/marichat stans lol and as a marichat stan myself i find the association with that toxicity very exhausting and frustrating !!

marichat is a slowburn friends-to-lovers ship. so if there is no slowburn or u skip friends and go straight to lovers then that is a different dynamic than what is presented in the show. i mean you can call it marichat because it still involves marinette and chat noir but i would not consider it like Official Brand™️ marichat tbh. i don’t wanna sound gatekeepery but also. that is my hot take lol

they’re not sexy,, they’re just very stupid and soft. i am continually confused and frustrated by the fact that marichat is still branded the Sin Ship™️ when canonically they could barely look each other in the eye after doing the traditional cheek kiss greeting lmao

yes there is Bad marichat out there that plays into the things i talked about above but there is also a lot of Good marichat and it is really not that hard to find. so when people say “i like canon marichat but i hate fanon marichat” i just like. don’t really know what that means? lol. like, you hate...all fan-created marichat content ? i assume you just dislike the Sin Ship and the true selves trope and whatnot but there is a lot more than that ?? and it’s sad to see it all get lumped together with the not-so-great stuff and branded Bad Fanon: Do Not Eat lol

marichat cannot exist in isolation. its very existence depends on being part of the square. this might seem like a weird thing to state explicitly but i’ve seen people get mad that there was too much adrienette/ladynoir in a marichat fic and that it wasn’t really “marichat” and i mean….what? lol. because it’s a civilian/hero combo, you have to show how it affects ladynoir and adrienette. u cant just have marichat be dating and then pretend like the other sides of the square don’t exist ? flsjadjk

totally platonic marichat....godly

romantic marichat developed from platonic marichat.....also godly

they would eat dirt and it would be weirdly cute and i have proof

even if marinette and chat noir fell for each other, they'd never just forget OG crush over even fully "get over" them imo. adrien and ladybug will always hold a special place in their heart and they will always love them in some way!

there’s no such thing as post-reveal marichat. if they know each other’s identities then the dynamic has changed and the square has all been absorbed into like Adrienette 2.0 lol

and for the hottest take of all:

marichat good

thank you for your time. please take a goodie bag on the way out

[scrawnytreedemon]

Victor Frankenstein and Frustration: a Not-Essay, because I can’t structure for shit.

Alright, I’ll try to keep it as clean and concise as I can, but at the end of the day this is a sorta-heat-in-the-moment thing I’m writing while all the ideas and motivation are in me yet. I will be jumping around alot of topics, as this covers alot of ground, but I can’t say I’ll do it with grace: for this, I apologise.

I’ve noticed a trend in online lit fandom, not just on Tumblr, to condense Victor’s character to something roughly following “arrogant, ineffectual and selfish weenie who failed horribly at parenting, who ought not to be taken seriously in any significant way, largely in-due to his constant whining“ --In other words, a right twat.

And here’s the thing: largely, I agree.

However, what I take issue with, I suppose, is largely how this is all framed.

See, fandom has a tendency to sort characters into boxes, and then pick favourites or bête noires from that selection; this is helpful for the largely memetic(as in, shareable,) nature of online spaces; but where I think this thinking falls short is that it tends to divide casts into More Good or More Evil, with little room for nuance.

I think you can see where I’m going with this.

Victor Frankenstein, by all accounts, is an incredibly frustrating character to witness; he gets way in over his head, isolates himself from his loved ones, leaving them worried, deems those ambitions failed, hides from them, then when shit starts hitting the fan, he takes initial actions to try and mitigate the consequence, hits a roadblock, either stops their or chooses an even worse option, someone else gets hurt, he whines, rinse and repeat until the final act of the book, as the stakes get higher and higher and his mental state deteriorates more, and more, and more. If you look at this entirely from an outsiders’ perspective, as you, the audience, being subjected to his moaning time and time again, it can wear on you and your sympathies-- Needless to say, I Get It™.

I think, however, it needs be remarked that Victor is also just some guy. 

What I feel is often missed, is that even before Victor goes to university, he has just suffered the loss of his mother, with little time to recover, and that all of this is being told in hindsight, on his deathbed.

When Victor took on, all by himself, at twenty-two years old, not even letting anyone else know what he was up to, the monumental task of creating life, and then finding that life horribly botched, he did not have the perspective that what he created was equivalent to a newborn child-- For all he knew, he might have animated an actual demon. It isn’t until two years later, after the death of his little brother at the hands of said demon, the he’s even remotely made aware of this.

Victor had worn himself out over the course of several months, physically and mentally, to this one task. He was not equipped to deal witht he consequences. I do not say this to downplay the weight of his actions, or the horrible mess of events that come afterwards, but to state perspective. Victor does not have the hindsight we have at the time of this act. I cannot stress this enough. As much as I enjoy Deadbeat Dad Vick jokes, I get the feeling many people actually view the story from this lens, and hold Victor up to that standard.

Then there’s the trial of Justine: a horrible, useless, unneeded and avoidable affair that ends in even more senseless death. This is where alot of people’s sympathy for Victor runs out-- For more than understandable reasons. He failed to act accordingly, to share the information he had, deeming it to be either dismissed instantly or for himself to be put under scrutiny; it’s clear he’s passionate about Justine’s innocence, but he cannot push himself past his fear and doubt, and ultimately, it ends in her death.

It is a horrible, horrible moment, and one that cements the tone of the story from there on out.

These are two key events that largely colour this image of Victor so prevelant online; and it certainly doesn’t help, what with fandom being almost aggressively left-leaning at times, that Victor comes from a place of privilege; he is almost tailor-made to push all the buttons of fandom sensitivities.

Let me elaborate.

A key feature of Victor’s character is his complete and utter inability to ask for help; no matter how dire the situation. Victor feels, that, despite and even because of his incompetence, that it is his cross and his cross alone to bear. Any inolvement from others, such as Clerval when he heads to England, is hesitant and highly discouraged, even when he wants nothing more than to partake in the company of his loved ones, after all he’s been through. While it is also heavily coloured by the anguished sentiment that borders on self-absorption so much of the time, I think it is also worthy to examine this too.

Victor’s tendency to indulge in self-pity and self-loathing is nigh, if not entirely, all-consuming; it pervades the narrative to a painful degree, particularly as it comes from his recollections; it is often exhausting to read through, and nigh unbearable if you already hold a disdane from his previous actions; but here’s the thing I think most people miss,

Victor is depressed.

I don’t mean “ooh, he’s so sad, leave him alone 🥺,“ I mean the guy is fucking depressed, stuck in a constant cycle of attempting to make do but failing, hating himself even more, letting it consume him because he at once feels like he deserves to be consumed and it’s the only thing he can do then and there to soothe to pain as shit gets worse and worse.

Victor Frankenstein’s internal monolgue is a prime example of deep-seated, far-gone depression, and I say this because I myself have experienced and do experience this. Depression is fucking soul-sucking, man; it turns you in on yourself, makes you feel entirely undeserving of love and compassion, leaves you feeling like you must, have to, deal with this entirely by yourself because it is your cross to bear.

Depression is so often self-flagellating and pointless, leaving the subject drained and often largely unable to experience the world outside their own miserable little bubble.

Victor is so wrapped up in this soul-sucking guilt, attempting to fight his own ineffectuality and in doing so only furthering his own ineffectuality, refusing to ask for help, that he ends up putting the ones he’s trying to protect in further danger as he tries to scramble a hodge-podge solution to the problem he created and couldn’t have even begun to forsee its consequences at twenty-two years old. It is a painful, painful example of how if only he reached out, if only he told someone, was honest, all of this could have been avoided, or at least mitigated.

And I think that’s the thing with Victor.

He’s a kind of banal evil-- If such continuous stumbling can even be considered so --He is an example of every day self-isolation and refusal to let anyone else in ballooning to such a degree it ends in distaster.

People are far, far more willing to forgive Adam for his transgressions-- And I say this as someone far more sympathetic to his plight, what with the absolute abandonment he faced at the hands of humanity --Despite their far more horrific consequences; in many ways, they’re attributed to Victor’s failing; which isn’t entirely untrue,

But I have to wonder, if alot of this also comes down to the fact that Victor’s wrongdoings are so human; leaving someone in your care behind; not speaking up in cases of injustice; being self-involved; again, the constant whining. In a way, it’s the sentiment that in stories a horrible person is often far more bearable than an annoying one.

That doesn’t even begin to touch on how much of the bemoaning might largely be and often is directly post-hoc regret colouring all his previous actions. This, above all else, is a cautionary tale to a fellow idealist in the hopes that Robert Walton doesn’t Fuck Up the way he did. Victor stresses his regret and his failings and his misery time and time again because he wants to protect Robert from a similar fate; a fate that ultimately ends in his death.

Victor Frankenstein is a study in frustration; in audience frustration, self-frustration, narrative frustration; it seeps into every corner of the story.

I am not trying to defend Victor Frankenstein as a person; he is flawed; and he’s meant to be flawed. Victor, at the end of the day, is a deconstruction of the Byronic hero-- Of Great and Powerful Men on the Fronteers of History™-- And most importantly, I think, a deconstruction he himself undergoes. Victor eventually alerts someone, a Genevan magistrate, is doubted just as he feared, and then runs off to take revenge into his own hands.

It takes the death of Elizabeth Lavenza to do so.

Victor is a flawed, miserable man, but not an evil one. That doesn’t mean he deserved to have his life crumble around him.

He could have done better. Should have done better.

And he knows this.

His entire arc is about how he knows this.

Victor dies knowing this.

Him being unlikable doesn’t make him a bad character. Him being unlikable is part of the character; and in a meaningful way.

God, I don’t know how to end this. I’ll probably come back and edit this many, many times.

I guess I’m just tired of people flattening characters just because they’re not particularly endearing.

[hwascripts]

What Izuku would be like in a relationship: The positive traits, the toxic traits, his love language, my own personal headcanons and an overall conclusion

WC: unknown

TW// POTENTIAL SPOILERS, No smut but Izuku is aged up, Toxic traits aren’t necessarily toxic...more so just bad traits, Teeny tiny little bit of angst, I think that’s it!

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming the following headcanons are true. You are 100% free to disagree with me but please DO NOT send me hateful comments or asks. I am simply writing what I think Deku would be like in a relationship

a/n: Just to let you know, your nickname for him is Zuku just so you don’t think I kept spelling his name wrong.

-Deku is literally the kindest soul ever and it makes me want to cry. He’d give you his umbrella if you ever forgot yours, he’d literally carry you to first aid if you ever injure yourself- this man will legitimately do everything for you

-He’s incredibly observant. If he catches you looking at a pretty ring then he’ll literally show up at your door days later with that very same ring in his hands

“I saw you looking at it a few days ago and I wanted to surprise you!”

“Zuku baby oh my god how much did you spend?!”

“You don’t need to worry about it sunshine”

I wholeheartedly believe Izuku would call you his sunshine or something along those lines

-I have this one headcanon of him drawing you all the time as an excuse to “observe you and your quirk” but it’s really just because he wants to admire the way you shine underneath the sun- and that’s how he came up with the name Sunshine for you

-Deku has a heart of gold oh my god, this guy cares so much about you it’s unreal. Imagine trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying while on a phone call- mission failed because he heard your shaky voice and now he’s on your doorstep with your favourite hoodie of his and your favourite snacks

-His memory is insanely good, like it’s freaky how good it is. Like you mentioned to him ONCE that you liked a certain drink and now he pulls up to your dates with that drink all the time (not like I’d complain if Deku brought me my favourite drink)

-Just like Bakugou, Deku is incredibly smart and he literally always comes up with a solution. You could literally vent to him about a problem you’re having at work and he’s come up with at least 73 solutions within 6 hours

-He’s determined and hardworking. Again, he’s just like Bakugou in the sense that he’ll put his blood, sweat and tears into whatever he’s doing- no matter if it’s a serious high stake mission or something like planning your weekly date. The second he puts his mind to something, he makes sure to give it his all.

-Izuku is your own personal cheerleader, this dude will hype you up no matter what. Training after work? he’s cheering for you. You completed a really difficult task? you better believe he’s gonna pat you on the back for it.

-He’s very protective of you. Remember when the LOV attacked the training camp and he rushed to find Kota? yeah he’s 10x more protective of you.

-And it’s not because he thinks you’re weak and can’t defend yourself, it’s because he genuinely worries about you all the time and just wants to make sure your always safe

-He’s an inspirational person, he makes you hella motivated to do even the most boring chores around the house

-Deku isn’t afraid to show his emotions. Unlike Bakugou, he’s often seen showing his emotions. Deku said “toxic masculinity who?”. He definitely gives 0 fucks if someone sees him crying/upset because I feel like Pro-Hero Deku would stop the stupid mindset of “Hero’s can’t show their genuine emotions”

-Izuku is the type of person to analyze all his losses, figure out what he did wrong and then learn from it to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. He’s the complete opposite of Bakugou who gets bitter over his losses due to his superiority complex.

-He’s so good at comforting you that it’s unbelievable. Deku gives the warmest hugs that make you feel so safe- you literally cannot change my mind about this

-You know those hugs where the other person lightly rubs your back and lightly sways side to side with you? Yeah those are the hugs that Deku gives (he’d definitely give you a sweet little kiss on the forehead/cheek)

“Sunshine come here, let me hold you while you let out all your frustrations. I’ve got you, nothing can hurt you while you’re here with me”

-Can you tell I want some comforting Izuku hugs? He wouldn’t let go of you until he put a smile back on your face and GAHH oh my god I need Izuku hugs

-As much as I hate to do this, it needs to be done 😔✊🏻

-Izuku is such an over thinker, this guy worries about EVERYTHING under the sun. Your eyes didnt crinkle when you smiled? he’ll think you’re upset with him. You gave him a side hug rather than a normal hug? he’ll think he did something wrong.

-He’s self aware that he overthinks things but he just can’t seem to stop his thoughts. No matter how many times you reassure him that you aren’t upset with him, he’s subconsciously thinking about how to make it up to you

-He constantly pushes himself past his limits. You guys saw how many times he’s broken his bones. Deku may be intelligent but when it comes to his own self he can be completely hopeless

-The amount of times you’ve scolded him while you clean up his scrapes and cuts is insane. He just sits on the toilet lid and bites his lip nervously while you wave your finger angrily at him

“Sunshine please, I said I was sorry and that it won’t happen again!”

“Zuku you and I both know that’s a damn lie, I’ve had to patch you up 3 times this week! When are you going to start being more considerate of your limits?”

-I’m sorry but I picture him being so nervous to initiate anything with you. This guy would be so fidgety just by THINKING about holding your hand

-And deep down he knows he’s being ridiculous because come on, you’re his S/O and he’s been dating you for years now- why does he still get shaken up just by holding your hand?

-At first you think it’s cute, he’s just being respectful of your boundaries- but as time goes on you kind of get a little annoyed because he always asks you a bunch of times if you’re okay with him being affectionate.

“Zuku...sweetheart you know you don’t need to ask me a million times if I want to cuddle, right? I love cuddling with you!”

*cue sweating* “I’ll keep that in mind, Sunshine”

-He eventually gets a lot more comfortable with affection...more often than not you wake up with him nuzzled into your side like a cat

(Side note PLEASE wake him up with a bunch of kisses, he’ll literally melt)

-He’s very insecure about his scars because they make him feel like he’s “ugly” and sometimes he doesn’t even want you to look at them

-Do me a favour and please kiss along his scars/ trace them with your fingers while you compliment him- he’ll start crying because the scars he thought made him ugly are now starting to look beautiful to him

-This isn’t necessarily a toxic trait, more like a bad habit. Whenever Izuku gets stressed he’ll train himself to the brink of exhaustion just so he can try to focus on something other than how stressed he is

-Again, not a toxic trait but a bad one...Deku puts everyone else before himself. Which isn’t a bad thing if it’s done in a healthy amount, but Izuku goes to the extreme. I feel like he’d neglect his own needs just to satisfy everyone else and you’d have to intervene before it gets worse

“Sunshine I said I was fine, you don’t need to worry about me! Your Zuku is perfectly energized and ready to go”

“Zuku don’t lie to me, you know I can read you like a book. You’re coming with me and I’m putting you to bed”

-I hate to say it but this guy hates confrontation so much that sometimes he’ll suffer in silence for MONTHS before he even hints at being upset with something

-I honestly think your biggest argument with him would be about his lack of communication in terms of him not being completely honest about how he feels and he just breaks down-

-Like he has a really bad breakdown because he’s been bottling everything up for so long because he hates the idea of fighting with you.

-And now he’s sobbing because he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t know what else to do

-Anyways, the two of you just silently comfort each other until you’ve both calmed down enough to talk properly. This is the night Izuku finally starts opening up to you rather than bottling up every negative emotion he feels

-I honestly think his love language is a mixture of giving you gifts and words of praise

-He’s a little shy when it comes to showing you how he feels through affection, so giving you gifts and his praise get his point across

-He’s totally the type to send you cute messages throughout the day, send cute selfies when he misses you, or he just sends you a random bouquet of flowers because he saw them and thought of you

-Also the type of guy to have photos of the two of you displayed around his office. His most prized one being the photo of your first mission together

-Just warning you now that if you ever mention that your suit ripped or a certain item isn’t functioning properly then he’ll literally buy 10 replacements- each one better than the last

“Zuku I said that the sole of my BOOT ripped off, not my entire suit!”

“Well now you have 10 new upgraded suits to make sure it won’t happen again! Isn’t it great, Sunshine?”

(Someone take his credit card away from him)

I definitely think Izuku would be an amazing S/O! He’s caring, kind and comforting- and he does his very best to try and work on the bad habits he has.

Overall, I would say Izuku definitely would win a “S/O of the year award” (sorry Bakugou)

[poutyniall]

First I wanna say your (storyline) you created with Yoongi I love it, secondly I want to say I kinda relate to you about life and it hardships. Thirdly i want to say is your writing is such a comfort for me and thanks you very much and I am saying it for the bottom of my heart ❤️

I thought if you can’t create something about Y/N being a documentary maker and she was done with film her docu and now she is editing like crazy because she has a deadline and Yoongi is trying to send Quality time.

If it to much asked you don’t have to do with.

If you see this message thank you for reading it💜❤️

Oh my, you got me speechless, darling. I cannot thank you enough. Truly  💜 💜 💜

I don't know if this is what you had in mind but I hope you'll like it

Yoongi just wants to go home and cuddle, laying in your arms with his head on your chest. The thing is, you're his connection to his emotions and without that he doesn't know what to do with himself. It's been too long now and he feels disconnected, drained. He needs you to recharge. But, unfortunately, the sight he comes up to once he gets home is the furthest away from what he was hoping for. You're exhausted, sitting in front of your laptop, messy hair, glasses slipped on the tip of your nose, leg bouncing up and down, empty coffee cups spread all over the desk.

''Kitten?'' he calls you softly but you don't even look up, too busy working and nibbling your bottom lip. ''Deadline?'' he asks, to which he only gets a little hum as answer. He sighs slowly, putting the hint of disappointment he feels to the side. He knows too well what is like, how stressful, tiresome, tough and psychologically demanding a deadline is. He knows the 'fuck it, I quit. I don't care, I can't do this, nope. I'm gonna call them, there's no way I can do this, I just tell them I died... yep, yeah, I quit, I'm done' meltdown. He knows all of this so he puts you first, it's your turn to take more this time. Guessing you probably haven't eaten, he heads to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and fix you something to eat but nothing to fancy, just some fresh cut fruits, a sandwich cut in little bites size, few chocolate squares. ''Time to eat, love'' he says as he collects some cups to make room for the tray he prepared. ''Got no time'' your voice is a little bit husky due to the amount of time you've remained silent. ''Well, we got to give some sugar to that sexy brain of yours.'' his voice is smooth but concern can be clearly sensed in it because, just like him, you tend to overwork yourself. He sits down next to you and stretches his hand to grab a piece of sandwich to bring it to your mouth ''Open up'' For the first time since he arrived, you look at him and for a moment your eyes get glossy, overwhelmed by the gentleness and the thoughtfulness of the man in front of you. A fond gummy smile is gifted to you as you slowly open your mouth so he can place the food in it. ''You got this, love.'' He spends the rest of the night by your side, feeding you and keeping you company, not exactly what he had planned but he's just happy to be there for and with you.

[sylverstorms]

Miranda x Mia---- Eternal

A Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @saltwatereulogies. Thank you so very much for the support and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Drip. Splatter.

The first sound you’re aware of is that of the occasional waterdrop crashing onto the same humid, uneven floor you’re lying on.

The second is the sound of her voice.

“Rise and shine.” she says, somewhere off to the side. You are still too disoriented to pinpoint exactly where.

You’re not dizzy enough, though, to not immediately realize you’re trapped. The way the light behind your captor shines makes it all the more obvious, casting large shadows in the shape of your prison bars across your small, moldy cell.

“Y-you…” you struggle to talk. Your throat is too dry and your temples pound like a war drum. It feels like you’ve collided with a truck. And yet her voice commanding you to sleep is the last thing you remember.

“I haven’t formally introduced myself. Though I’m sure your friend has told you about me.”

You blink to make your vision focus yet it’s hopeless. She is but a dark blur to you –am I hallucinating or are those wings?

“My name is Miranda.”

Suddenly, that name snaps everything into focus so sharply you could get whiplash. You’re on your knees the next second, just about ready to leap at her. She’s the one. The one Chris warned you about. She may look like an angel but she is a devil.

“I don’t care who the hell you are! What do you want from me?!” you demand.

“Your cooperation in my experiments, for starters.” she says it calmly, but she is no fool to believe you’ll just agree to that, you can see it in her crystal-blue eyes.

“Ha! As if!” you retort.

“Well. That answer will change when I have Rose.” The name of your daughter makes every nerve ending in your body kick at once.

“What. Like Ethan will just hand her over to the likes of you?”

“Actually.”

A slow smirk crosses her full lips. Then their shape changes to match yours. All of her does, until you are left looking at a perfect mirror of yourself. Only, there’s no way you look quite that good inside of this shitty cell.

“He’ll hand her over to you.”

When she laughs, it is your own voice haunting your ears.

-

-

She has your daughter. She has your everything in her hands. So, she has your cooperation, as well.

Miranda doesn’t really talk when she comes to collect blood samples for whatever experiments she needs them. Your initial cries and questions were muted the second she told you the more helpful and less annoying you are, the more inclined she’ll feel to bring Rose to you for a while.

In the end, you do let yourself be her docile little lab rat.

Until you literally can’t take the silence anymore.

“Was it really… that easy?” ‘To enter my home and take my daughter’ you want to add but you can’t even get the words past your throat.

She seems to understand, though. “Effortless.” she isn’t being cocky as she says it. In fact, she seems almost surprised herself. At least, from the angle you get of her face, while she’s studying a strange rock-like substance under a microscope.

“How the hell did Ethan not figure out you aren’t me?!” That moron. He just gave your daughter to her. That clueless moron!

For a split second, you see her lip twitch in what could, perhaps, be a withheld smile. “I was there for a day, so. Seems like your husband doesn’t know you quite that well.”

Is it really fair to blame him for not knowing you, though? With the secrets you’ve kept from him? The distance? The trauma from the shared nightmare you experienced coming back to you every time you even looked at him?

God, Rose really is the only thing that kept you together, isn’t she…

It’s easy to hate the accursedly beautiful bitch outside your cell. It’s easy to blame Ethan for not even suspecting something was amiss with you for a whole damn day.

It is not so easy to blame yourself as much as you do them.

-

-

Miranda replies when you ask her things, so you ask her about herself. To your surprise, she does not shroud her motives from you.

She has lost her daughter, she tells you, and the only way to get her back is through yours. For the first time since you met her, you see emotion clearly expressed in her eyes and voice. You recognize how she longs to be with her child again.

You can understand the never-ending grief of a mother losing her offspring. You know if anything happened to Rose you would rather fling yourself off a cliff than live a life without her.

And apparently, that is what she tried to do, too. She tried to die –and discovered life instead. That is what she calls it, anyway. All you can hear as she explains is that she found –and founded— the Mold. The same one that ruined your husband and you.

One more reason to hate the psycho witch.

And yet.

When you try to reach for the rage you previously held for her, you find that it’s gone. You’re bitter, you’re exhausted, you want to cry and above everything you want to see Rose again. But you don’t loathe her as you should.

“What do you mean… the only way to get Eva back is through Rose?” you dare ask after several minutes of silence.

She turns to look at you, eyes as piercing as they are blue. “Technically, the trade is simple.” Maybe you’re losing it from the stress and lack of sleep, but you think she almost hesitates for a second. “…a life for a life.”

As soon as she speaks and the meaning of her words registers in your mind, you’re gripping at the rusty iron bars with all your might, rattling them, shouting profanities at her. You are back to hating her all over again. It’s much simpler this way.

Until… she walks over and grabs your hand over the metal. Her touch is oddly warm for such a glacial heart. You cannot tell what she does to you, but it feels like an aura flowing through your system that silences you. Calms you. You do not want to be calm.

“I wasn’t finished.” she speaks. “That is where the experiments with you come in. By running tests on your blood and Rose’s and using my DNA as a medium, during the ritual I can trick the Megamycete into giving me what I want through a form of mitosis. Essentially, cell duplication that will not override the existing vessel.”

To be honest… you lost her midway through the very first sentence. You were quite good with biology back in the day but right now, in the state you’re in, science is going right over your head.

“...Is there an English version of that.” you ask.

Her mouth curves into that almost-smile again. It would be quite gorgeous, actually, if she hadn’t kidnapped you, infiltrated your home as you and abducted your daughter.

“If the tests succeed, you get your daughter back, I get mine from cloned DNA and Mold cells.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice as she says it.

And now, assuming she’s telling the truth, you want those tests to succeed more than you want to get out of here. Her hand leaves yours and the weird calm she blasted into you dissipates with it.

“Wait. So…” Realization strikes you like a thunderclap. “So these tests are for me?”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you, you crazy b—blonde.” You rattle the iron bars again, a tad weaker than before. She does smirk over the microscope, this time. “How likely are the tests to succeed?” you ask impatiently.

“Quite.” she replies, flat once again.

“…And if they don’t?” you hate how your voice shakes there, at the end.

She looks at you, dead in the eyes, as she answers: “I am getting my daughter back either way, Mia.”

You can’t believe it. You cannot believe you’re thinking this, but you hope the crazy bitch knows what she’s doing.

-

-

Miranda is… despicable, but she is a woman of her word.

She brings you Rose for hours at a time and in exchange you help her outside of your cell. You thought your daughter would be in a worse condition, considering who keeps her, yet she’s healthy as ever, well-fed and clean. The worst part is, she laughs every time Miranda comes close and she even reaches out for her.

“No, my darling, don’t do that.” you tell her, tucking her tighter in your arms, before the woman behind you notices what’s happening.

Except it’s too late. “Ah, I see.” Miranda speaks, coming up to you from behind. She’s tall enough to lean over your shoulder and wave at Rose, who moves both hands towards her. “A lady of taste.” the woman praises and the lightness to her voice almost makes her sound like someone else. Someone normal.

“Stop it.” You turn your child away from her. “She’s just confused because you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.” You motion with your chin at her getup.

Miranda chuckles. “What. She senses our bond. Rose feels safe with me.”

Safe with the monster who wants to sacrifice her to get her own child back. You cannot swallow that thought down. “But she’s not, is she?!” you snap.

“She is.” Miranda reverts to her cool facade, glancing down at your daughter. “I will never let anything hurt her. And when she gives me Eva back, I will make sure she grows up bathed in luxury.”

It’s the Mold, you’re sure of it.

It’s the Mold’s fault that you believe her.

-

-

You were supposed to see Rose today. Instead, Miranda comes into the cave alone, looking irritated. You start to worry. Nothing phases her without a good reason. What if—

“Where’s my daughter?!” you demand, eyes wide.

“We have a problem.” she tells you. Your blood goes cold in your veins. “A problem named Ethan Winters.”

“Ethan?” you gasp.

“He is trying to get Rose back and according to reports from the Lords under me, he cannot be killed. His hand got cut off and he just reattached it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” she’s certain that you know. You can see it in her steely eyes.

“I— why would I—”

“Before you think to lie to me, hear something else. I bear good news, as well.” Miranda says. “I have succeeded in my experiments. During the ritual, I can guarantee Rose will remain unharmed and unchanged.” the edge of her lip curls up as she delivers the news. You almost cry from the sheer relief.

You almost leap forward and hug her, yet you remember who she is and that she caused this mess in the first place.

“But my conditions have changed.” her voice is a sword that cuts off your happiness just like that. You knew it was too good to be true. “For me to save Rose, you will tell me how to permanently get rid of Ethan Winters.”

…What?

She wants you to… trade your daughter for your husband? How the hell can I do that?!

“He has ruined too much for me to let him walk away happily now.” Her jaw is tight enough to sprout new lines on her flawless face. She wants him dead and she always gets what she wants. “He has killed colleagues of mine. Spat in the face of a damn-near god. I will have his head.”

The corners of your eyes sting with welling tears. Your body is far more honest than you in making a decision. Nobody is too important to sacrifice when it comes to your daughter. Not yourself. Not Ethan. And Miranda knows this better than anybody else. You loathe how she knows.

“Give him to me, Mia. And in a few days this whole thing will be over.” she continues in a significantly softer tone, getting closer to you. Her wings shift, the very edge of black feathers brushing your arms.

“You want me to aid in killing the father of my child?!” you sob, grabbing at her clothes. You’d expect her to shove you away, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.

“You have been so cooperative and so brave.” she soothes, gold-taloned fingers coming underneath your chin. “Make one last sacrifice for me. Help me murder Ethan so Rose can live. Help me and I vow to be her eternal guardian angel. Hers and yours.”

She could just force the answer out of you. She’s touching you and you know she has that power. But she doesn’t do it and it’s far worse this way. She wants it to be your choice.

You look away from Miranda’s icy eyes and her promises of everything.

And you tell her.

-

-

You do not ask about Ethan. All that’s in your mind is the ceremony.

For the entire morning, you cannot breathe. You trace notes in her lab and pace around until you literally feel like you’ll explode—

And then Miranda comes in. She is radiant, smiling from ear to ear, glowing with pure joy. She looks every part the goddess she pretends to be. The golden circle usually adorning her back is gone, her long blonde hair is left free to flow like fine strands of silk past her square shoulders.

“It is done!” she tells you, a hand extended for you to take. “Come. I’ll take you to Rose and you will be the first to meet Eva.”

Her hand is warm when it closes around yours. Black wings shroud you both. There is a gravitational pull around you that’s so intense you shut your eyes and grab onto her biceps for dear life.

“You can look, now.” she speaks once the world is stable again. Your gut is churning, yet every bit of exhaustion and discomfort vanish the second you see Rose. She is safe within the first of the two golden cribs in front of you, bathed by the soft sunlight that disperses across the luxurious, dark-tiled chamber you’re in.

You run towards her, lifting your daughter in your arms and kissing her forehead over and over. She laughs at you, blue eyes crinkled. My love. My everything, you think. Everything was worth it for this moment. And you would do it all again, to ensure her safety.

Miranda’s steps, regal and authoritative, come to a stop near the other crib. You lean closer, take a look… to see another little angel there, sleeping peacefully. She resembles Rose, yet she resembles Miranda, too.

“Oh my God.” you breathe. “You really did it.”

“I did it and you and Rose made it possible, Mia.” she says. Your child extends a tiny hand towards her. She removes one of her claws and lets her finger be taken in your baby’s grip. “You don’t have to leave. She loves me already.” A proud smile curves her lips.

You hate how it looks like a sunrise.

You hate it even more that you understand why Rose is so charmed.

“Her mom can grow to love me, too.” Crystal eyes look into your own. “There is no place safer than by my side. Stay and we will raise them together. You won’t have to fear disease or death with me. You and Rose will have every little thing you could ever want. Forever.”

You don’t want your child to be co-patented by this selfish megalomaniac, who is the killer of her father. But. Then you stop to consider what you have been through until now. Nightmare after nightmare; this vicious cycle does not look like it will be broken. One thing or another will haunt you and hunt you wherever you go. You don’t want that life for Rose.

You won’t accept that life for Rose.

“…we will stay. But you can forget that part about me growing any fonder of you than I am now.”

Miranda nods, but something in her expression is so damn cocky you want to smack her. “Oh, what’s that, Rose? You can tell your mother is lying, too? My genius girl.”

Your jaw drops. She is my genius girl!

Miranda then touches your chin and tilts it up. You don’t want to be any closer to the gorgeous fucking witch, but when she stops there, hovering just over your mouth for a skipped heartbeat, looking down at you with those crystalline eyes of hers, you’re paralyzed.

Her lips slide over your own for just one slick, hot second. When she pulls back, she caresses Rose’s cheek and winks at you.

“I hate you.” you say, yet it holds no real bite. God, you’re exhausted.

“That’s alright. We have all the time in the world to change that.”