#again like... i actually truly just fucking despise the way most people talk about trauma and abuse...

[uncanny-tranny]

"The world isn't a safe place, so get used to it!"

Man, as somebody who's survived multiple, long-lasting instances of abuse from a very young age, I was under the impression that the world was, indeed, so safe and conforming to my desires. I'm practically stunned to learn that this is not the case, and I have been severely humbled

(Sarcasm fully intended)

[suchawrathfullamb]

Hannibal Lecter as The Devil

Our fandom usually ignores key elements that were said about the characters, especially the ones that state very clearly that the show is not the same as the books or movies. And the one thing that usually gets mixed up the most is, of course, Hannibal's past and even his very essence.

Our Hannibal is the devil. Apparently literally so. He is not the way he is because of his past trauma. He even says so in the show but most people dismiss it as him being avoidant. No. Literally. Nothing happened to him, he happened.

This is why some fans get so confused about the character's actions and motives, because they are ignoring this very important aspect: he is the devil, he is not some traumatized guy. Don't fight me on it, I'm just communicating what the creator and Mads himself have said. But when you take this into consideration it actually makes everything more interesting, fascinating and makes a lot more sense, too.

The devil despised humanity, or, thought he was superior. This is Hannibal. He sees himself as above everyone else, and in the show, he actually is, as this isn't a neurosis or complex, but who he is. Human emotions are weaknesses because they make you suffer, prone to error and vulnerable. This is why he goes insane when he falls in love with Will. He literally ate his sister simply because he loved her and loving her made him tender, therefore he "denied" his nature for her. He ate her in order to forgive her for committing this "crime". Didn't kill her, but had to consume her in order to put himself above his love for her.

When he falls for Will, he experiences a loss of control he never experienced before, as passion does, and he is the control king so naturally this makes him desperate and absolutely insane. This is why he does everything he does to Will, because he is trying to prove to himself that love isn't stronger than He is, that he is capable of following his nature and urges beyond his feelings for Will.

This is why that scene where he is crying after Will was put in prison, is so important, sooo important and most of us don't pay enough attention. Abigail wasn't dead, we thought he was crying for her, later we find out that she was safe and alive. Mads even confirmed but didn't have to because it becomes obvious then that he was crying for Will. But the dialogue is what makes the scene so important.

They're talking about having "kids":

He was disappointed when Will didn't immediately accept him once he found out the truth. He felt so betrayed and he felt like he failed guiding Will properly to accept himself and Hannibal. Framing Will was heartbreaking for him but he had to make himself do it to prove he was still in control. That he wouldn't let his feelings put him in a vulnerable position and risk his life and freedom (which he ultimately does in the end).

When he finally admits or realizes he is in love, that's when he does the unspeakable and tries to eat Will. Bryan confirmed he wasn't actually going to go through with it, but in the heat of emotion after feeling betrayed by Will yet again, he just reaches a new level of insanity.

Soon, he realizes what he's done and the rarity of him feeling regret happens (hence the time reversing attempt). This is why he surrenders. He wasn't being "petty", he was trying to show Will he truly loved him, also because that man cannot believe for the life of him that Hannibal, the devil himself, is capable of love. Which is ALSO why the jokes about him having to ask aren't actually congruent with canon. No one would realistically believe someone like Hannibal would be capable of love. No, he didn't know before asking Bedelia, Hugh already confirmed but if you pay attention to the show this should not have been the interpretation. Will literally fucks everything up BECAUSE he refuses to believe H loves him. Yes, the dream, etc etc, I already made a post explaining that scene, too. It's in the meta tags and called Will Graham and the Denial of Love, anyway, this is such a beautiful tale of the devil falling for a human, only to discover he actually fell in love with another fallen angel, and the act itself made him more human.

[asphaltwaves]

I don't think I'm still over the trauma of realizing that my fears of people hating me while simultaneously being kind and almost.. family-like to my face could ever become reality.

Through the years that I lived at that house and found myself face to face with the realization almost shot me back to the fears I had as a child. That even in the end of thinking everything was ok, everything was most fucking definitely not okay.

And that's okay.

I think it's amazing to me that I had almost shut away and found "acceptance" in it through rage and distaste, and that I didn't really need to be included in things that had no space for me.

But holy shit boys was I wrong.

Through being with my current partner now for the better part of the year, I realized something.

Like. Genuine like. Feels so much more fulfilling.

And the worst part of it all is that I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment. House Dad pointed out that my anxiety and expectation of people turning around and still hating me despite doing not much more wrong (though I'll always admit to my faults and through that situation, I'm still puzzled by what actually went wrong but since no one has ever corrected me to my face I'll never know the true reason) that I'll still wake up one day and find evidence of how much people actually truly fucking hate me and despise me despite my own efforts and attempts.

But maybe there's a piece of that missing that's just going clear over my head.

What was it that I do that makes people hate me in that way? Am I talking too loudly? Maybe it's the boundaries and fears that I have of having fear and anxiety about explosive tempers with the mixture of a gun? At the end of the day the amount of unanswered questions will never revive that relationship, and thankfully I'll never have to go back to that place.

But in this new place, new situation, new relationship..

Is there another shoe that's going to be dropped or will I end up always expecting the worst and the worst being.. dry banh mi bread? Which even then, can always be salved by some chao ga.

I think I'll be forever scarred and marked by that experience. And even now I have my reservations about certain family members because I'm always going to be unsure after having that initial confirmation about whether people will actually be ok around me or if they'll simply continue tolerating me until I'm gone and wishing me good riddance.

Though then again I guess I took up too much space in that house by trying my hand at catering. But I think that entire family had major issues with communication and just fucking opening their mouth to say something so.. I'm just happy that I'm no longer a part of that mess.

Thank the Gods.

They surprised me in the most.. unique of ways when I begged to leave. At least I didn't have to spill any blood this time to find the light at the end of the tunnel.

[dreaminginvelaris]

A Response to a Feyre Anti

I made a post recently explaining the dread of having to watch Feyre be abused by her sisters and father, in the Tv adaption. And a Feyre anti made a response, to something that should not be criticized at all considering what I said was just the truth? Feyre was abused. Not only that but they went on and completely twisted the narrative to fit their own ideas and in the process made Feyre out to be cruel and Nesta a saint. complete bull.

I will not be tagging the anti bc they have me blocked (shocker), but also I do not want anyone to go after them, if you come across the post, I don't want it to be through me. it's as much respect I can give to them.

I usually do not respond to those who have something to say with a post of mine or are blatantly talking about me on their blog, unless they're just spreading absolute lies about me or what i "said", it's usually a waste of time to do so. but this post attacked Feyre with outrageous lies and a complete backward interpretation of what actually happened in acotar, so as respectful as I can be, I will be analyzing the anti-response and what truly happened in acotar.

"the audience will only see two sisters fighting-not abuse" "it’s not Nesta you need to worry about. It’s audiences calling Feyre a big dumbass and a bitch" -from anti

if the audience has basic human compassion and empathy for humans IRL or fictional, they will see what's obvious from the start. Feyres abuse. how is it going to look, when they see Feyre walking through the woods, shaking from the cold, starving from hunger, and struggling to find food for her family? only to later see Nesta's treatment of Feyre?"

in the anti's post, they said Feyre was just as "heinous" to Nesta.

is Feyre the one calling Nesta a pig? a smelly pig? ordering her to take her clothes off?

no, it's not, it's dear Nesta. the text goes as "I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark at her" oh yes... how cruel of Feyre. how heinous of Feyre to...stay quiet... at the verbal abuse.

in the same image we see Feyre ask Nesta to do something (kindly might I add) and then inquire why she didn't chop wood like she needs to.

what does Nesta do? acts like a brat and insults Feyre...once again.

considering I'm going off by the story and not the actual screenplay, and assuming they stay true to the story; will the audience not be disgusted by Nesta's behavior? I mean they just saw Feyre struggle to find food and they expect Feyre to go home to a family happy and appreciative of Feyre but instead, they get this familial abuse.

the anti said Feyre basically tells Nesta this:

"If you keep bitching at everyone like this no one will want to be around you or you can’t marry this guy because you’re a waste of space to me"

but what do we see?

"Believe me... the day you want to marry someone worthy, I'll march up to his house and hand you over. But you're not going to marry Tomas."

the word worthy, did that not catch your eye? Feyre said Nesta will have to marry someone worthy, someone, who will treat Nesta kindly and give her the life Feyre thinks her sisters deserve. bc Feyre does think that IDK why anti feyres think Feyre despised Nesta so much, Feyre loved her sisters.

what the anti fails to realize here is that Nesta marrying Tomas would have been actually pretty great for Feyre. in the sense that, Feyre would no longer carry the burden of her sister. Feyre would not have to worry about feeding one more mouth. or worrying about Nesta's constant stealing of Feyre's money. Feyre does not think Nesta is a "waste of space" to her, if she did, it would have been easy for Feyre to discard Nesta, and allow her to marry Tomas. the anti has that twisted.

but that is not even the worst part of the scene. did you see the shameless slut-shaming that came out of Nesta's mouth? how will the audience take to that? do you think most of the younger generation will take it lightly to see a sister slut-shame a sister? a woman putting down another woman? in this social climate? where the feminism movement is alive and flourishing. will they be okay with it? will they still blame Feyre and be mad at her the way the anti says they will be? I hope not otherwise I'm losing faith in humanity.

Lovely words Nesta spews at Feyre. I admit Feyre should have told her then and there that Tomas is abusive. but let's think: Feyre is 19 years old, the youngest, has never had any raising by a parental figure, has been neglected by her whole family, where would Feyre learn to calmly talk to an overgrown brat like Nesta? Feyre telling Nesta who Tomas truly is the duty of a parent, not a sister. I will not condemn Feyre for not knowing that was the perfect time to tell Nesta who Tomas is. especially when Feyre is being tormented and verbally/emotionally abused, its kinda hard to think about something else while you're being told all these horrible words. to us its easy to see where Feyre went wrong but unless you're in the exact position Feyre was in. no one has any room to talk. and even then, every person is different in situations like these.

this part was me analyzing the interactions between Feyre and Nesta since anti had reasons to believe Feyre was just as bad to Nesta and that the audience would see that and hate Feyre. I am now going to respond to the second part of the Feyre Anti's response.

"How will an audience of non-fans react to her not reaching out to her family to tell them she was okay after the reconciliation between her and Nesta? Or not inviting them to the wedding?"- from anti

moving onto acomaf now.

Idk maybe the audience will see Feyre, a depressed, lonely, individual in an abusive relationship while being manipulated by other individuals she called friends, and understand and empathize with her. all throughout the beginning and half of acomaf, Feyre is in critical depression. she wholeheartedly believes she should not be alive. that she is not worthy. she doesn't eat, all she does is sleep, self-care is not important to her or others so why would letting a family know she's okay, a family who BARELY ever cared about her, be a priority? it doesn't seem like Nesta or elain or her father was really fazed by Feyre's lack of communication. her father left on a trip, elain got engaged and Nesta, well we didn't see a tearful welcoming to Feyre on Nesta's part did we?

anti, where is the outcry of her "family" not even really caring if Feyre was safe or not, of what happened to her? it's not like they thought she had died, otherwise, where was the mourning or funeral? no, they just didn't care.

see this is where I know when anti is just full of bullshit. why, WHY, would Feyre invite her family to wedding full of fae? the creatures elain and Nesta fear and hate? for all the talk many anti's spew about Feyre being inconsiderate to Nesta, to her family, you would think Feyre maybe just knows a fae wedding would be the last thing they would want? even then, does Feyre owe them an invitation to her wedding? does she owe them an update on her life? nope. Feyre owed them nothing.

"How about her shit-talking Nesta to a bunch of strangers then having the audacity to ask her to get involved in a war. Oh! This is after she comes into her house and insults their hospitality." - from anti

I hardly think Feyre confiding in individuals who she learned to care about and laying out all the trauma Feyre endured with her family is "shit-talking" but for argument's sake, let's say it is. I still don't see what's wrong? after years of pent-up anger and hurt, would you not let go of everything you withheld inside and explain what was done to you? how you felt? Feyre telling the IC her life story, which contains Nesta's abuse and her family's neglect, was a form of therapy for Feyre. I never read a line where Feyre calls Nesta a "cold-hearted bitch" or called elain "a lazy ditz" she just said the truth. no added embellishments. Cassian was the one who shit-talked Nesta during the dinner scene, never Feyre.

I still don't understand why antis are so against Feyre asking her sisters for help? like the war didn't involve them? they're humans, and you know what the war was about? Hybern wanting to take control of the human lands like they once did and turn them into slaves. those humans included Nesta and elain.

"They could have left the continent" correct, except elain was engaged and refused to leave Grayson. which meant Nesta refused to leave elain. but even so, isn't it the duty of humans to band together and work to overthrow a race of people who want to torture and keep them as slaves? the queens certainly weren't doing their jobs. Feyre asked to use "their" house to meet the queens bc where else would they do it? the queens trust the fae less than Nesta or elain did. but even so, Feyre asking to use their house was a courtesy, that house is rightfully Feyre's. she is the one who sacrificed herself to leave with Tamlin. she did it bravely, courageously, and they got that house thanks to her. they owed Feyre everything. and the only one who acknowledged that was Elain.

that war involved elain and Nesta whether they or Feyre or the anti's liked it or not. not even considering that Nesta and elain are Feyre Archerons sisters, yeah, their family name alone puts a target on their back.

How did Feyre or the court insult Elain's and Nesta's hospitality? You mean when Feyre realized human food differed from fae food? something she did not know about bc she's barely been turned to fae and only had eaten fae dishes? Feyre's grimace towards the human food was an involuntary reaction to someone who is still learning their new body. or was it when Cassian called out Nesta for her cold treatment towards Feyre? if that's the case then fuck decency, I would call out a fake bitch in my presence from minute one. you cant call what Nesta did "hospitality" when all she did was insult Feyre when she didn't even care that Feyre had died, or lost her love bc of abuse, or that her body was changed against her will.

hospitality: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.

did y'all read something different bc this for sure was nothing Nesta gave to her guests?

----

the rest of the anti post moves towards Rhysand and his actions UTM which I won't go into because I'm mainly just addressing the false interpretations this anti had to say about Feyre and her family.

I'm not sure how to sign off now lol, but I guess just that I hope this was enough to show how this anti's arguments were completely ludicrous and have absolutely no compassion for Feyre, and instead all the compassion for Feyre's abusers. This anti had a real spin on what the actual story was, and I hope the evidence I provided was enough to show that. Anyways yeah my brain is fried, and I'm done arguing with Feyre anti's for a while now, I need to go praise my queen Feyre so I can receive some semblance of peace.

anyways, stan Feyre for clear skin xx

[emletish-fish]

7. what is you favorite sentence/paragraph? read it to us! (asker can choose what fic) (x)

I chose three! One from each of my 'big fics'. No Zombies, Worst Prisoners and Good Boys under the cut:

NO ZOMBIES:

No Zombies was a delight to write. I had pretty much the whole idea from the get-go, (of a returned style AU with Hector coming to spend time with the family in the modern world). I finished it quick - and it's not too long (side-eyeing Good Boy and Worst Prisoner). It was the first fic where I felt like I really "stuck" the landing. I was quite flexible with my original outline, but I still knew where the journey ended. It ended exactly how I wanted it too - happily but with a bitter-sweet note.

The emotional core of this story is how Elena, family matriach, who is so gruff and no-nonsense, who despises Hector in the films, and who has such a warm heart under such a grumpy exterior would slowly soften and come to love Hector, (and how she grows as a person because of this and becomes more comfortable showing love/emotions to her family). It was like a platonic slow-burn as she learns to understand Hector better - which is why this bit is my favourite because it's where she starts to really feel fond of him for the first time:

“Well, I'm just glad I'm a better teacher for him than watching old Ernesto De La Cruz movies.” Héctor had replied with a wry smile. “It's probably because I'm so much more handsome than that butt-chinned, over-the-top ham.”

“Because you're a pointy-chinned, over-the-top ham?” Elena replied, feeling surprising witty. She never made teasing jokes like this normally, but it was so easy with Héctor.

He looked mock-offended. “I'll have you know, my chin is wonderful and I've given it to several of your grandchildren, so there.”

If Elena was a different person, she probably would have pulled Héctor into a warm, laughing hug then. She might have told him seriously that Miguel had always been difficult for her. He felt things so strongly and got so upset and emotional – she'd always struggled with how to help him, how to calm him. Miguel was so happy now. She knew that was because of Héctor.

She might have told Héctor that he was at least six thousand times the musician, eight thousand times the teacher, and ten thousand times the man that Ernesto De La Cruz was.

But Elena was who she was.

Instead she said “Idiot,” and ruffled his stupidly messy hair rather fondly.

She told herself she wasn't warming to the fool musician, but she knew it was a lie.

GOOD BOY:

My current work. It's another platonic slow-burn, but this time set in the Cobra Kai universe with son and father pair - Robby Keene and Johnny Lawrence. In the show, these two characters have such a dysfunctional relationship that is so full of miscommunications and missed chances, and they genuinely want a better relationship (and it would be so healing for both of them! Do not get me started!) I lean much more into the magical realism in this story, as I turned Robby into a dog (Animal transformation - PIXAR's Brave style), so that he could immediately get the cuddles and easy affection he so clearly needs.... because I have never seen a more touch/affection-starved character aside from Zuko in ATLA.

This also gave Robby a chance to really understand, not only his father, but the other people in his cicrcle. He discovered he had a support network. He got to know he was loved by many. he got to witness the actions people would take as they searched for human-him (not knowing that he'd been turned into a dog). And it gave Johnny a chance to learn how to take care of something, feel needed, and express his love for his son without the weight of their complicated history/his own trauma hanging over him. It was hard to pick a favourite, but I will say the Johnny-stream-of-conciousness chapters are definitely the easiest/most fun to write. One of my favourite bits is in the first one, The queen of ice-cream runaway when Johnny tells Robby about when Laura (his grandmother) found out Shannon was pregnant and she was going to be a grandmother.

It's the first inkling Robby gets that while his father wasn't there for him and he was neglected a lot, Johnny did his best to keep the bad shit from his own childhood away from Robby as his own way of showing care. It hints at the deep and damaging abuse Johnny endured. When he finally had a say with his own kid, he would have done anything to protect Robby from feeling the same. I'd say here is where Robby really begins to warm to his Dad;

Then I told her our chosen name and she said I was a dumbass and Swayze was a terrible middle name, and we had to change it to some shit like Alastair or something. She thought he should have a rich sounding middle name. And I say Mom, Alastair sounds like some lame-ass insurance broker who upskirts his secretary and then cries as he jerks off to the pictures, what else you got? She thought Sebastian, and that was worse! What a pussy name.  Sebastian is going to be sitting in the little french patisserie cafe drinking the tiny-ass coffee for dolls and eating the éclair with his prissy finger tips. I already want to kick Sebastian's ass. Who wouldn’t? I’m not going to give my kid a name that is going to get his ass kicked.

And she couldn't talk, cause she named me after Johnny Cash, just cause she liked his music. And she couldn't think of a middle name at the time, so I didn't get one. Thank goodness. I could have ended up Johnny Alastair and had to kick my own ass.

So Swayze stayed.

Then she mentions how she and Sid can help out, so I didn't need to do the two jobs, stupidly long hours thing. And we need the money. I know we need the money. But my whole body froze and I just went No. None of that for little Robby Swayze. ...

... She’s going on about spending Sid’s money on Robby and I just...I can’t. I can't allow it. Cause I knew how he would be, and the way he would treat that kid. So I tell her, no thank you. Not a fucking cent mom.  Sid’s not getting to feel like he owns a hair on Robby’s head. That motherfucker can go jump. You thought we needed Sid’s money when I was a kid. You decided it was better for me, and that was your choice. I did not get a vote in that. But this is my kid, and this time it is my call, and I am choosing no. I’m not going to have Sid make my kid feel like he has to apologise for existing every day. I'm not going to have Sid treat my kid the way he treated me. I will never need money that badly. I will never put my kid through that. I'll work myself to the bone doing 20 hour days before that. I'll work on the 40th floor without a harness before that.  I will sell my fucking organs before it comes to that. Not a cent mom.

WORST PRISONER:

My 'what if Zuko made friends with the Gaang early on?" AU that then turned into a three-book long saga (and I will return to it, Worst Prisoner readers - Thank you for you patience). It does have evenutal Zutara, but the focus is really on the Gaang + Zuko as a whole, and all the interpersonal relationships. I'd say there is more gen-shipping around Zuko as a central character, as Iroh & Zuko, and Sokka & Zuko are both given equal prominence. in fact, all the friendships and familial relationships were equally important to me. (the book 3 Zuko & Azula stuff is so interesting, but it is ...less funny I guess.)

This fic is such a joy to write, and I really try and balance the humour with the bittersweet/sad parts, and one of the main sources of humor was the Sokka-Aang-Zuko -Katara qudrangle of dumbassery. I love the four of them together in book 1, and so many of their interactions were a hoot to write. But if I'd have to pick a favourite moment, it would be the moment in the deserter chapter in book 1, where they all decide to 'officially' be friends:

“Well, you can figure that out and find someone while I'm up in the Northern Water Tribe. Then when we finish up there, we'll come find you,” Aang offered.

“Really?” Zuko’s eyes were shining optimistically. It was a strange expression for him. Aang was so used to seeing him with a grumpy face.

“Really, I promise,” Aang said, feeling so glad that he could help Zuko go home.

“Yeah, I second that. If this means we won’t have to put up with you chasing us, I am in!” Sokka said. “Sheesh, you could have just asked ages ago!”

“You know, this means I was right,” Aang started to say, feeling very vindicated. The others looked at him curiously. “If we had just talked about friendship in the forest, we could have sorted this out weeks ago!”

“Boo, forest friendship!” Sokka said.

“Don't boo him,” Katara admonished, elbowing her brother.

“I agree with Sokka. There's no way I would have appreciated that speech weeks ago, Aang,” Zuko said.

Sokka smiled at Zuko for saying he agreed with him. It actually wasn't that rare of an occurrence, but it still seemed to surprise Sokka every time.

“See, Aang, forest friendship is bullshit,” Sokka said.

“I didn't say that!” Zuko cut in. “I just meant, maybe … I had to be dragged all over the Earth Kingdom by you guys ... and shot ... and taken to nonsense fortune tellers ... and I had to be forced to eat Sokka's truly terrible and disgusting cooking—”

“Oi!”

“—and I had listen to Aang lecture me about friendship and vegetarianism in the forest just so I could come here.” He looked around at the deserters’ camp site. “I dunno, maybe it was meant to be this way.”

“What are you saying? You want to be forest friends with Aang now?” Sokka asked accusingly.

“I mean, sure. If Aang will have me, we can be friends,” Zuko said, and looked uncertain.

“Yay! I knew you'd want to be my friend,” Aang said, feeling delighted.

He was so happy he had a Fire Nation friend again. Kuzon had been an amazing friend, even though he'd gotten Aang into so many sticky situations. He had already thought Zuko was his friend, but it was nice to make it official. Aang always knew the Fire Nation had good people in it too, and now he had been proven right. He jumped up and gave Zuko a huge hug.

[poptod]

Terrified (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

Description: Mental hospitals probably aren’t the best place to form relationships of any sort.

Notes: Angst and self harm and general mental unwellness. This is a mental hospital after all. There is also smut but it’s still gender neutral. Word Count: 3.6k

God, what wouldn't you do for a chance to start everything over. Never gain self awareness, never wake up the day you turned thirteen, never grow to despise yourself to the deepest corners of your soul. That was when it really started after all – around the age of thirteen, when hormones kicked in and you learned the words you said had an impact on those listening. It was also then you learned you were a genuinely awful person, and despite your many efforts to become better, nothing worked.

You didn't even try to hide the fact that you hated yourself. Instead, your logic was that everyone had to know – everyone had to know that you were aware of how horrible you were, and everyone had to know that you were punishing yourself constantly, they had to know that you hated yourself. But no one likes hanging around someone who hates themself, so eventually you were left alone. After that, you never made friends with anyone again, no one bothering to stay.

Elliot didn't stay either. To be fair, he was much like you in the aspect that not very many people liked him. In school he was smarter than most people, quiet and seemingly rude, and though the two of you were never truly friends, he recognized you years later. In prison.

It wasn't really a prison, though most of the people there called it a prison, including much of the staff. But no, it was actually a hospital – a mental hospital, where people with addictions stayed, people fucked up in the head, people like you and him.

You sat in a circle with the other patients, going around and talking about your own traumas and your own issues. Elliot hadn't said anything to you yet, but by the way his gaze kept flickering back to you, it was safe enough to say he recognized you. To your left, the next person stood and talked about their physical abuse. Unfortunately you'd been there long enough that sob stories didn't affect you that much, if at all. You would be next once they were done – and like most times, you wouldn't say anything. Accustomed to your behavior, the instructor moved to the next person, but you didn't start listening until Elliot spoke.

"I'm here for substance abuse," he said, dull and monotone. Nothing else.

You returned to your room shortly after, habitually checking the secret pocket in your night stand, full of unhealthy coping methods that seemed to be the only thing that worked. Sneaking your hand in, you pulled out a blunt, hiding it in your pocket as you stood, heading off to the bathroom. On the way you passed Elliot, who by some remote chance noticed your hand fidgeting with the blunt through the material of your sweatshirt. He stopped you right before you reached the unisex bathroom.

"What's in your pocket?" He asked quietly, wary of any passerby.

"Weed," you answered truthfully.

"Can I join?" He asked, fidgeting. You nodded, and he followed you, the both of you sneaking silently into the bathroom.

Pulling out your lighter, you pulled on the starter, a flame burning at the end of the blunt. Once it began to smoke you tucked it away, taking your first drag as a sense of calm came over you. You handed it to Elliot.

"Maybe our school fucked us up," he muttered, letting smoke fall with his words, "that's why we're both here."

"Nah," you said, staring up at the ceiling. "I fucked myself up, all on my own."

He chuckled.

After that, he stuck with you a little bit. You understood why – you're practically the dealer of the hospital, getting your stash from a man on the outside who visited you every now and then. In return he could stay in your apartment, as long as he kept it clean enough. Didn't really matter to you anyway, since you weren't about to get out anytime soon, and you had quite a lot of money saved up.

Sometimes Elliot visited your room, and on one such afternoon you felt so heavy with dread that once more you reached into that hidden pocket, pulling out a pocket knife, the only sharp object you could sneak in. In plain view of him you dug it into your skin, feeling nothing. You used to feel something – pain, excitement, adrenaline, but now it's such a common occurrence that it's just another day. Another mindless task. Elliot didn't agree, not by the way his eyes widened.

In a swift movement he snatched the pocket knife from you, putting the knife back into the body and shoving it into his own pocket.

"What the fuck are you doing," he gritted out, scolding you.

"What are you gonna do about it? Tell the doctors? Fuck off," you said, shoving his leg with your foot.

He swore, either to you or himself before leaving, taking your pocket knife with him.

The next thing you got your hands on was a thick sewing needle. It was strong, and the slide into your skin wasn't an easy one, but it was new. Almost exciting. At least you now knew not to do it in front of Elliot; he probably had a thing about blood.

Eventually he found out, though the circumstances sure were, if there was a word to describe it, odd. Odd didn't encapsulate the whole of the experience, but you could think of nothing else to call it.

It's one of those sessions in the bathroom, exhaling smoke and watching the haze slowly disappear into the fan before one of you took another hit. The blunt in your hand was beginning to fade, the very end of it scrunched between your fingers. It was at that point that he stepped close to you, invading your personal space so harshly that the blunt dropped from you and smoldered on the white-tile floor. His chest pressed to yours, his gaze dropped to your lips, where the remnants of your last breath left, laced grey and smelling thick with weed. You tried to back up to get your heartbeat under control, but you were already pressed up against the sink.

Grabbing a fist of your shirt in his hand he pulled you forward, kissing you warm and harsh, and it's a thrill more exciting than the cuts and the needles. For a moment you felt like you were living, like you hadn't wasted so much of your life hating everything. His lips moved frantically against yours, hands gripping your hair and tugging, hips nearly grinding into yours.

You were surprised, to say the least. He wasn't ever the type to enjoy sexual stuff, at least not to your knowledge of what he shared with you, and he never liked to be touched. So while you were quite confused, it wasn't all that unwelcome. He was nice enough and his eyes were pretty, and when he hummed, the vibrations passing into you, you could feel your knees go weak.

It would've been a perfect day, a perfect smoke session if he hadn't wanted to go further. Instead he pulled at your shirt, tugging to try and rid you of the bright white fabric, forcing it over your head and tossing it into a corner of the room. Without thought you tried to continue, but a gasp left him and he stepped back.

Looking down, you remembered your torso dotted with small scabs from the needle, bruises coloring your skin dark purple and yellow. You weren't even scared of him noticing. No, the only thought in your head was fuck, I'm not gonna get more kisses, instead of what it should've been, which was more along the lines of fuck, Elliot caught my horrendous act.

"You really fucking hate yourself, don't you?" He asked, taking another step back till he hit the wall behind him.

"Never said I didn't," you said dully. "Does this mean we can't fuck?"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "You have no morality. Maybe you should hate yourself – you don't fucking care about anyone but you. Stuck in your own goddamn world."

He left and you broke down crying, sitting on the bathroom floor with your knees held tight against your chest. You told yourself all of those things – you already knew you were self centered, that you didn't care about other people, that you always said and did the wrong thing, but it always hurt. It always would, and the only thing to ever dull it was drugs and sharp objects. Right then you didn't have your needle, and you didn't feel like getting it, so instead you found your lighter and burnt scars into your skin.

For the next couple days you laid in bed, unmoving save for your breath. Staring at the wall. Hunger gnawing. You didn't deserve food, nor to breathe, though you continued doing the latter. Sometimes you'd forget to breathe, but it never lasted long. You wished it lasted longer.

In the night, before lockdown, he snuck into your room when he thought you were sleeping. He rifled through your belongings, searching for a while before he stood and made his way to the door. You watched from your bed, watching as his fingers curl around your needle and your lighter, watching as he left and closed the door behind him.

It took a little while but you found the energy to confront him, dragging your body out of bed and meeting him in the courtyard, where he spent hours watching birds and squirrels in the trees and fields. He sat on one of the wooden benches beside the water fountain, and you sat beside him.

"I want my stuff back," you said plainly, unsure of how else to put it.

"I want you to stop," he said in return.

With both of you at an impasse, you sat in silence for a while, contemplating how you could either get your things back or get new ones. Your dealer wouldn't be visiting you for another month, but when he did you could ask for another pocket knife. That whole process would take two months – far too long for you. You needed it now. The only way you were hurting yourself was through starvation, and while it could bring some fantastic pain (and a few fainting sessions) it wasn't enough.

"Elliot, please," you tried once more.

Nothing.

"You do it then," you suggested, something that pulled his concentration away from the black squirrel to you. "You hurt me if you want to control it so badly."

"Are you seriously asking me to cut you up?"

"Please," you said softly, your voice cracking with need. Scooting closer to him you rested your hand on his thigh, high enough that his heat is embarrassingly obvious, while you put your chin on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck with your nose, lips barely brushing his skin. He froze.

"There's cameras," he gritted out.

His discomfort was obvious, but you didn't care all that much. He wanted you for some reason, whether it was sexual or romantic, and you could use that against him. But you didn't really want to do that with him in broad daylight, so you stopped, instead resting your head against his shoulder and intertwining your fingers in his.

He found you at midnight, sneaking in and taking your hand. Your room wouldn't do – there were cameras. The only place without cameras was the bathroom, so like many times before he led you there, locking the door behind the two of you once you entered.

"You're a damn brat, I hope you know that," Elliot growled as he stepped into your space, his hand coming to cradle your jaw, almost like he cared about you. Like you might've been worth his time. It didn't last, of course – the next moment his hand moved to your hair, yanking as he kissed you so fiercely you could feel everything in your body tense up.

A moan fell from you as he ground his hips into you once more, helpless and needy in a way you only felt from your knives. His heat melded with yours, pushing and grinding, pulling from you an excitement that burned through your veins.

"You really wanna feel something?" He asked, breathing heavy against your bare neck as he began to fumble with your pants, his movements forceful and curt. Pulling at the knot he released it, letting your pants sag past your hips. He dug his nails into your side, indenting moons in your skin as his other hand went lower, stroking low around your hips to allow room  to insert his leg between yours. With one hand on either side of your body he forced you down, making you grind against him. A broken moan left you.

You barely had the time to hold him, to ground yourself in his touch before he buried his face in your neck, biting so hard you could feel blood dripping down your collarbones. Shocked from the adrenaline your mouth hung open, the softest of whimpers falling between you.

"Come on, baby," he mumbled, once more pushing you down on his leg as he began to leave kisses in a trail up to your cheek. "I want you to grind on me."

"What?" You asked weakly, still caught up in the fact that this was an actual thing that was happening. God, the pain felt sweet. You could feel how hard he was beneath his pants, still grinding into your hips.

"Fucking grind," he hissed out, nails digging deeper into you. You gasped, pained and pleasured as he did so, hesitating only a second before you complied. "That's it," he whispered, kissing your temple when you moaned softly at the sensation.

It didn't take long till he was clawing at your shirt, tossing it onto the floor, but this time he ignored your fading scars in favor of working your pants off you. With his hands mostly off your skin, you gained enough mind to start pulling at his clothes, till both of you stood naked in the bathroom, pressed up against each other in a tangle of limbs and tongue. Now you could see just how you affected him, his cock against your stomach as he kissed you in the same frenzy he first kissed you with.

He prepared you for him slowly, almost caring, though the bite marks lining your shoulders and the marks on your hips said a far different story. With several of his fingers inside you he dug his other hand into his pocket, keeping you pinned with the whole of his body as he drew out your pocket knife. You watched it with a fervor – your knife, and you watched him, watched as he flicked open the blade, watched as he pressed it against the soft skin of your stomach, watched as the bruises indented and blood ran from a cut stark against the putrid yellow and green of your skin. You watched him run his finger over it, bringing the taste of your blood on his tongue before he kissed you, slow and methodical as his fingers left you.

Immediately you missed his warmth, missed being filled up like that, but he replaced himself well, hooking your left leg around his hip and sliding into you with one, smooth thrust. You murmured a sweet sigh, high and happy in all those ways you missed so dearly. Gentle but messy you kissed his cheek and his temple, waiting for the both of you to get used to the feeling before he moved.

As he pulled out slowly, he ran the knife against your skin, keeping the same beat as his hips. A long, shallow cut on your side, droplets of blood already beginning to pool, till he thrusted forcefully back in, squeezing the fresh cut as he did so. You choked on your breath – too much, not enough.

"I knew you'd like that," he mumbled, low and soft. "Fucking whore."

He kept that rhythm for a while – out slow, in fast, before he apparently tired of it. When that happened he pulled all the way out, spinning you around so you faced the mirror and thrusting right back into you, so deep that your head dropped, your muscles unable to fully work. He kept your pocket knife, leaving scrapes and tiny nicks on your back and chest, watching as the angry red slits swelled in the mirror, and if you were lucky, dripped crimson.

"Elliot," you mumbled breathlessly, too caught up in how he felt to inhabit your own body. How he filled you up, so warm and so rough, the fresh marks you could see all over your body. Just what you wanted. "God, El, please fuck me harder."

His fast-paced thrusts stopped suddenly, his cold eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

"Don't tell me what to do," he said, releasing your hip and curling your hair in his hands, yanking you back so hard you yelped. With his other hand he positioned the pocket knife right at your neck, the blade digging into your skin.

"El, please," you whispered, shutting your eyes.

"Look at yourself," he ordered, and you complied, slowly opening your eyes to see yourself across from you. Bloodied, beaten, sweaty, and needy, and plain pathetic. You couldn’t even tell your own marks from his.

Slowly he inched his way back in, watching your expression carefully till he rested at the hilt, his breathing uneven every time you tightened yourself around him.

"You really want to be this person?" He asked you, his voice suddenly soft, so different from how he was.

"I don't know how to be anything else," you said. It was true – normal people didn't like you, didn't understand you, and though less-than-normal people also didn't like you, they understood you a little better. That placed you with them. You couldn't be anyone else.

Fully sheathed inside you he traced his fingertips against your skin, every movement loving as he placed kisses along your shoulders and neck. He nuzzled against you – that warmth sent a shiver down your back. It was all he wanted, to be close to you, to hold you softly, but you had to go and hate yourself so harshly you wanted him to bleed you.

"I really liked you," he admitted softly, slowly opening his eyes to meet your reflection's gaze. "But you're sick."

"Get down of your high horse, Elliot," you said, voice rough from your own moans and whines, "you're here, just like me."

"I'm glad I got to see you anyways," he murmured, airy as he dug the blade just a little more deep into your skin, promising blood soon enough.

He withdrew the knife, something that sent relief through you. It wasn't even the dying aspect or the pain aspect that had you worried – it was the fact that if any of the nurses saw you with a cut on your neck, you'd be put in solitary with a straight jacket, and no one came out of that room sane. Elliot though, ever one to obey your wishes cut another line into your stomach, another into your hip as he fucked you hard and fast, just the way you'd asked him to.

One moment his thrusts were frantic and the next he halted, burying himself as deep inside of you as he could before he came, a quiet groan as he filled you up. With your own end reached you looked at yourself once more, across the bruises and the old and new cuts. Small pools of blood had gathered on the sink, dripping downwards towards the drain, where you recalled bleeding many times before.

Your arms shook as he pulled out, a weak feeling flooding your muscles as everything let go. The grip you held so tightly on the sink faded away, and your jaw unclenched, allowing you to look up into the mirror and watch him behind you. He was sorting his clothes from your own, his pants already on.

"Happy?" He asked, fluffing out one of the shirts in an attempt to see the size.

You were – at least you should've been. He'd done exactly what you asked of him.

But it wasn't enough.

He hurt you till you bled, clawed into your skin and bit so hard it broke you. It still wasn't enough, and for the first time you asked yourself, what will be enough? If he'd done all that and you still weren't satisfied, maybe it wasn't the pain. Maybe it was you.

Maybe he was right.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your knees giving out beneath you and letting you crumple to the floor. He didn't rush to your side, but he looked concerned enough, and dropped the shirt in favor of kneeling beside you.

"Wasn't enough, was it?" He said as though he knew, and you nodded.

With a heavy sigh he sat down on his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in, allowing you to rest your weight on him. It was nice. He was nice. He smelled sweet and he held you close, a pleasant weight around you with his warm breath atop your head, and a kiss to make it even. In return you showed affection – it was what he wanted after all, how he acted when in complete control with you at his mercy. You cradled yourself in his touch, let your heart beat wildly next to his, your lips pressing the sweetest and first kiss on his sternum. No one else had let you come that close to them.

He did, for some unknown reason. He let you come close to him.

You're terrified of hurting him.

[kierancampire]

Hey, i know this is most likely gonna be super long, and I'm sorry about that, but i hope at least one person reads it, no pressue to if it's too long/if you just don't have the capacity, i get it. Just, yeah, whether it's pride for me, or what i really hope, maybe inspiration/a positive feeling in you, i hope you can connect with it in some way, understand it. So i hope someone reads it

I also just want to say, as much as i share online, there are certain things that i actually really struggle talking about, much less share to many people. So this is quite difficult for me as it is opening up about something incredibly sensitive to me

I was walking to the doctors today, and i was going down the big hill that leads to it, but, this is so important but impossible to describe. I was suddenly hit with this feeling, and with it came a million thoughts, my brain usually runs a mile a minute anyway, but this was like nothing i have ever experienced. It was my entire life just flashing before me, and just this feeling of "Damn, I'm really here"

I think i was blessed with an oppurtunity that i hated at first, something that left me distraught and that i thought was hell on Earth, and that is that i am now currently living just down the road from where i grew up with my violent and neglectful dad. Being in this place again, a place where i knew only fear and pain, a place i saw from somewhere so low down, a childs view, of this big scary place, where i was hurt in many ways. I hated being here again

But while walking to the doctors, walking down the road that drove me to/from my dads place, a road i despised, a road i feared, because that road was my doom. I almost felt elated. Do you wanna know why? Because i was there again.

I suddenly remembered what it felt like being that scared boy, i remember all the tears that i shed, the times i screamed, the times i hid. I remembered losing everyone in school, the bullying i went through, the pain of rejection, and that painful journey of discovering who i am. I remembered the fear of college, the way i was mocked, how my mental health really started declining then, my first major panic attack. I thought about losing family, then living with my best friend, how i lost so much, how i was put through so much, how i was hurt so much. I thought about how twice in one year i was homeless, how i lost everything, the only security in life, how i lost my reason to be, the thing that always protected me, and what started that incredibly scary journey of doing things by myself. I thought about all my ex's, who took so much from me, who hurt me in ways i didn't know was possible, and in ways that so many people don't know about. I thought about everything i have gone through while living here, all the struggles, the pain, the challenges i have had to over come, living through a pandemic. And i felt elated. Do you want to know why? Because i was fucking there.

No longer was i this small, scared little boy, trapped in a car, knowing only pain and neglect in life, so desperately wanting out of a situation but not knowing how. No. This situation that i once hated, that forced me back into this trauma, i am grateful for it. Because that same road that i was trapped going down every weekend, that road i hated. I was now walking down it, of my own free will, with my head up, actually walking with my head up, something i couldn't do a few years ago. Wearing clothes that i bought, for myself, that make me feel good, not caring if people looked at me because i thought damn are they lucky to. Walking to the doctors, to manage my medication that i have routinely been taking for years, i am actually consistently looking after myself, eating well, maybe too well sometimes, showering every day, brushing my teeth twice a day, actually getting up and going to the toilet, drinking, looking after me. But do you want to know what made me feel the best? It was thinking how i am currently in the process of finding my own flat, my own property, my own home, after living in and maintaining a temporary one fucking immaculately, for 2 years, how i am really doing this, i am getting my own space, my own place to live, and I am doing that, ME, for ME.

I saw myself, this scared boy, trapped in a car, on a road he hated, going to a home full of fear and pain, feeling trapped. But then i felt me now, an adult with his head up high, seeing a road as a road, currently getting his own home, and just knowing that if i could get into that car with that scared boy, and tell him one day, he will walk down that road getting ready to live in his own home, that is all that boy would need to hear.

Obviously, there are things i am scared of, there are many things that could still go wrong, there is a lot of fear, i may not have the pride of saying i did this all while working, or with a massive support network and loads of people in my life. But do you know what, for that brief moment where i walked down that road, and thought about how much i have endured, how much i have survived, how much i have gone through, but the fact that i am still fucking here. That is what i need to remember. Do you know, recently i have referred to a certain, somewhat recent time as one of my darkest points in life, and i am glad i get to refer to it as that, because it no longer is. I don't tell myself this probably anywhere near as much as i should, but Kieran, no matter what happens in the future, you have endured so much, you have been through so much, but you made it, you've done so much of it alone, but you did it, and you are fucking amazing, let yourself know how incredible you are. You know who matters to you most, and you know how proud of you he'd be, so remember him, and remember that. I hated this situation at first, but it truly has let me see how far i have come

[raindropsduringthesunset]

Chances Few and Far Between (TSS Fateful Fae AU)

Ao3 ~~~ Wattpad

First Part, Last Part, Next Part

Characters: Remus, Virgil, Janus, Roman, Logan (for a moment)

Relationships: Dukexiety (Platonic), Dukexiety (Romantic), Anxciet (Platonic), Anxceit (Romantic?), Analogical (Implied- Momentarily) (Platonic)

TW: panic/fear, arguing/bickering (playful context), violence, drowning, trauma (flashbacks?), attempted murder

CW: Remus (mentioned) cursing, Janus (sympathetic), insecurity, slight non-con kissing (only on cheek, platonic), anger, monsters, water/swimming, embarrassment, talk of gods (Greek pantheon)

Summary: Remus wants to be able to spend time with V. With a little convincing and a bit more time, he realizes a few things.

~~~

Humans were weird. Remus couldn’t tell if he liked or hated that. Judging by how his human was affected by other humans, he decided for the time being that yes, yes he should hate it. He was weird too- mortals didn’t seem to like that though. Good, he had thought to himself, let them hate me.

Mortals were cowardly. Remus despised that trait. Cowards were always too afraid to have fun- too afraid to just live a little. It was so fucking stupid to him. He hated cowards. Another thing humans and him had in common.

They hated cowards too. They ridiculed them, teased them, provoked them until they did what they wanted them to do. Remus hated cowards, but even he knew that was a line to simply not cross. Humans hated cowards, yet created them through trauma. Remus could see that when he looked at V. They tried so hard to make him a coward- to make him scared of everyone and everything.

But V wasn’t a coward.

Sure, V was afraid. He was scared and hesitant to do anything- keyword hesitant. But, as afraid as V was, he pushed through and did things he was scared of. Cowards didn’t do that. Remus admired him for that- though, he would admire him regardless of cowardice or fear. Remus admired that V had enough confidence to do things he was afraid of. He liked that in a being- mortal or not.

What he didn’t like was how everyone was babying V and not letting him near Remus. Sure, V was just hanging out with them, but Remus wanted a turn! He hadn’t gotten to spend any time with V past when they had met in the forest. He’d been hearing about and seeing V interact with everyone but him and it was really starting to get on his nerves.

He was aware that he was scary. He was large, he looked mean, he looked like he could kill- which in all fairness he could. It didn’t quite help that he was half chaos fae. I know, fucking wild, right? Now, with the knowledge that Remus had some chaos fae, it would probably be safe to assume that the Prince was also some sort of chaos fae, right? No actually. Fae children ‘laws’ were strange and made it so Princey- oh so conveniently- was not a chaos fae. Remus was always a little cross about that because that just wasn’t fair.

Being a chaos fae was annoying. He had retractable tentacles- though holding them in too long tended to make his back hurt. He also was more hyperactive and fidgety, L constantly quipping at him to sit still every time they had dinner. He also had a different aura than the rest of his clan.

Everyone else had an aura of something calming- or just in general something good. L had a calming and clarifying aura of a deep blue, Pat gave off a welcoming feeling every time he entered a room, the prince radiated confidence and gentle passion, and J… J’s aura was confusing. He gave off confidence and security, but it also always felt like he was up to something.

Remus gave off a chaotic aura. Being around him made people want to be reckless. He and his brother had broken far too many things for his effect to not be apparent. L would spiral into an infodump whenever Remus was around. Pat would be more reckless with his baking or foraging- Remus had once gotten him to eat a berry that he was 80% sure was poisonous; everything turned out fine but it was still worrying. J was more powerful so he wasn’t as affected as the others were, but Remus is sure he’s done something.

Remus didn’t like the idea of accidentally affecting V with his aura. He was too small, too influenceable. The human mind is so easily broken and he was not about to test its limits.

Still, he so desperately wanted to truly meet V. To just sit with him, to play games. V wasn’t his, he knew that from the beginning, but he just wanted a chance to see what it would be like to have him, if only for a second.

Linebreak

“No Re, you can't hang out with V!” Roman complained, wrestling with his brother in the dirt- thank the gods he could magic his clothes clean or he might actually have to kill Remus. Remus rolled his eyes and flipped them over, sitting on his brother’s back.

“Why not?! I can be civil!” Remus squawked as the prince grabbed his ankle and pressed down on the pressure point. He took the time to squirm out of the position to tackle him again.

“I’m not quite sure you can- hey!” Roman flicked his hand that Remus had licked before grabbing his forearm and using what momentum he had to scramble Remus onto his back. Remus cackled in his position, squirming a bit in an attempt to put Roman off balance.

“You're so possessive of V, I swear. It's like he's your lover or something.” Roman froze above him, his hold faltering just enough for Remus to flip him over and crawl away for a moment to catch his breath.

“What? Do you actually love him?” Remus asked, pushing some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Roman stared at him from across the dirt, breathing heavy and shaking slightly from exertion. Remus’s teasing smile faded as Ro looked away, pushing himself off the ground without a word.

“Wait, are you serious?” Remus scrambled up, stepping over to his brother quickly. Roman sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.

“I don’t know, I’m figuring that out. I- well I do love him but I don’t know if I love him like… like how I love you or like… love love him, you know?” Remus whistled and slung an arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“That’s… heavy. Sheesh, and I thought I was the emotionally burdened twin,” Remus joked, laughing when Roman rolled his eyes and pushed him off, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“It was and I hate it.” Roman huffed, the corners of his lips twitching up. Remus counted that as a win.

“But really, can I please spend time with V today? I don’t care if someone supervises I just-” Remus took a deep breath, he hated admitting defeat just as much as his brother, “I just want to at least be able to know him.”

Roman blinked over to him for a moment, taking in his sullen state before pursing his lips. Remus glanced between Roman and the floor. A few moments passed of neither of them talking. That was long enough for Remus to sigh and open his mouth to throw in the towel.

“Fine-”

“Alright.”

“What?”

“Alright, but I’m sure everybody would prefer if you bright someone else along with you. I’m going to be busy tomorrow, so I suggest asking everyone else before supper for a chaperone and then asking V- at least then you can warn him who’s going to be tagging along.” Roman conceded, much to Remus’s surprise. Huh, who would have thought?

This was big. Nobody- and that means nobody- trusted Remus with V. He didn’t really think his guilt trip plan was going to work but… huh, nice.

Thank Tyche I guess.

“Thank you-”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Roman snipped, slightly deflating his own ego at the hurt expression on Remus’s face, “There’s no guarantee that everyone is going to be as… willing for you to be around V. I suggest asking J to go with you. V seems most comfortable around him and J also tends to be quite… possessive.” Remus smiled again, this time it was crooked but playful.

“Second most possessive to you.” He jabbed. Roman laughed a bit and looked down at the dirt.

“I can’t say you’re wrong dear brother.” Remus’s smile faded. He had a lot to compete with if he was going to spend time with V.

Timeskip

It, unsurprisingly, took several weeks to convince J- or anyone for that matter- to let him and V spend time together, even with supervision. Roman had listened to his complaining the night of the day he and Remus had the whole “You can spend the day with V if…” conversation.

“Eirene give me strength- FINE! Gods, if you could stop squawking at me while I’m trying to work that would be wonderful,” Janus groaned, his hands hovering over a plant that he had been attempting to grow for the past half hour. Remus whooped and did a little dance before leaning down to where Janus was knelt in front of the plant and placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek with a loud shmack.

“Thank youuuu! You’re the best J!” Remus shrieked, standing up and bouncing around, “I’m going to go ask V now- oh he’ll be so excited-”

“Ah-ah-ah, slow down there. Stay here until I’m done. We need some rules before you run off. Sit, I’ll only be a moment if you could not distract me for once.” Janus sent him a quick glare before looking back down and closing his eyes. Remus groaned loudly and flopped onto the floor, drawing little doodles into the dust and dirt.

After what felt like forever, Janus finally lifted his hands, frowning at the plant in front of him and petting its leaves before turning to look at Remus. J stood up swiftly and gestured for the other fae to follow, already moving by the time he was standing.

“Are you ready for the rules? I assume you understand that I will not be letting you near V without fully understanding what you can and cannot do with him,” Janus said, putting his hands behind his back. Remus nodded eagerly and walked directly next to him.

“Yes sir!”

“Do not call me sir,” He bit before sighing, “First rule is you are not to do anything to V without asking him first. If that thing you wish to do with him puts V in way of any harm, it must go through me first.”

A nod.

“Good. Second rule, if V says he doesn’t wish to do something or wishes to back out of something, you must abide by these wishes.”

A nod.

“Third rule,” Janus snapped his gaze to Remus, stopping in his track, “Do not break him. He is not a toy. He is not replaceable. He is a mortal, Duke. Mortals are fragile. We are not going to test the limits of mortality under any circumstances with V. Think of him like… like a glass.

“Glass breaks easily. V also breaks easily.”

Glass is pretty. V is also pretty.

“While glass is replaceable, V is not. Priceless, inimitable, one of a kind. If you break him, we will never have someone like him again. If you break V, it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand me?” Janus threatened. Remus nodded, stepping slightly away from him with his eyebrows raised. Janus nodded and continued walking.

“Good. Now run along and go ask V. He should be with your brother today.” Without another word, Remus turned on his heel and ran for the gateway. Janus sighed and shook his head fondly.

Timeskip

They decided to spend the day at the lake. Remus had some maintenance to perform in the water anyway so he took it as a blessing. Janus and V were sitting on the dock, V reaching his bare feet into the water every few moments. Remus popped out of the water intermediately, having a quick conversation before diving back down. Eventually, Remus popped up and used his tentacles to prop himself up high enough to rest his arms on the dock.

“Hey V,” Remus said, looking up at the human with a toothy smile, “do you maybe want to swim for a little?” V raised his eyebrows and looked to Janus as if asking permission.

“Darling, you can decide this for yourself. I’m not going to be the one to control everything you do.” Janus send a small smile to V and squeezed his hand for a moment. V looked at him, his eyes asking the silent question of ‘really?’ before he turned back to Remus.

“I… Sure? Can we-” Virgil hesitated, looking into the dark water, “Can we go somewhere more shallow first?”

“Yeah, it’s tiring swimming in deep water anyway.”

Remus used a spare tentacle to push himself up onto the dock, retracting them into his back with a gross squelch. V stared up at him with wide eyes as the appendages slotted into Remus’s back, otherwise invisible incisions closing up quickly with a green-tinted clear goo dripping down his back. Remus shuttered and shook his head to get water out of his hair.

Water droplets splashed onto V’s white shirt, leaving dark semi-translucent patches on the cloth. Janus frowned slightly and wiped a bit of water off of V’s face, smirking when he flushed against the touch. Remus rolled his eyes at the sight and placed his hands on his hips.

“Do you need to change clothing or are you fine to swim in your normal clothes?”

“I’ll be fine in this. It’s already wet anyway.” V paused for a moment before pushing himself to stand, stumbling slightly as he tried to gain balance. Remus reached forward and carefully grabbed his forearms, helping to ground him.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you falling,” Remus winked, far too smooth for how awkward he felt saying that. Janus sent him a small glare as V’s face heated up. A smug smile spread across Remus’s face.

V looked out onto the shore, a puddle of nervousness settling in his stomach. The water looked deep. He couldn’t swim in deep water. What if something grabbed his leg? What if he forgot how to swim? What if a storm was coming?

His breath sped up, catching Remus by surprise. Janus on the other hand simply walked over to V’s side, taking his hand and whispering in his ear for a moment. Remus would swear up and down that J used some sort of magic on him because there was no fucking way it was that easy to calm the mortal down.

“Are you ready to go in?” Janus asked, squeezing V’s hand. V looked to Janus for a moment before looking back at the water.

“Would you swim with us?”

“I apologize my darling, but I can’t at the moment. I’ll watch carefully though. If anything happens, I’m here.” Janus sent a look to Remus who suddenly felt very out of place.

Keep your things away from him. I don’t want them to pull him under.

I’d kill them if they even came close.

That’s a lie

J, we literally can’t lie, we’re fucking fae.

Oh, you get my point. Just be cautious. Remember what I said. V is-

Glass- yes, yes, I know. I promise it’ll be fine.

Remus walked into the water, turning around and offering a hand to V.

“Are you ready?” V looked between Janus and Remus before letting go of J’s hand. Remus smiled as V carefully placed their palms together. He gave a gentle squeeze and walked them deeper into the water.

V let out a shaky exhale at the cold water as it soaked into his shirt and shorts. Janus had gotten him to at least wear something that wouldn’t weigh him down. Weigh him down.

God- wait- fuck nono not yet. It’s fine just take a breath, V thought to himself freezing in his spot. Remus sent a worried look back to him, the water only at the waists. Before he could even say a word, V snapped out of it and continued walking forward.

The water was around their shoulders when Remus decided it was far enough for them. It was cold in the lake. One would have thought that one of them might have used their magic to warm it but no. Remus almost regretted not planning to warm the water first until V drifted closer to him, carefully slotting himself nearby to get what heat he was radiating.

It was… cute. Remus didn’t find many things cute, but dear god this was definitely one of the cutest things he’d seen. He could feel Janus’s eyes on them, boring into his head but for the time being, he couldn’t care less.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, an idea sprouted. For a moment- only a moment- he debated even doing it. But he never had much self-control.

Remus reached a hand under the water and reared it back before rushing it forward and splashing water all over V. He flinched and closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to shield himself from the wave going over him. Once the water stopped, V looked over to him, a dazed expression on his face. A beat passed, then two. Then a smile broke out across V’s face. Remus’s heart sped up. Oh.

V splashed the water back at him, laughing slightly when Remus flashed his teeth and copied his movements. Janus watched their antics with a fond stare, rolling his eyes when Remus sent V an offended look when he dumped water onto his hair.

At some point, the two had drifted farther into the water, them having to kick slightly to stay up. Every few seconds V could feel rocks graze over his toes, smooth and detailed. He bobbed slowly up and down, using his arms to steady himself between splashes- speaking of.

Remus dove under the water for a moment before springing out and splashing water all around them- absolutely drenching V and somehow managing to send a few droplets to Janus. V laughed and brought a hand up to push the water and some of his hair out of his face. Bad move.

Remus should have been paying attention.

V let out a gasp as something thin wrapped around his ankle, tugging to pull him under. The faes eyes widened, Remus reaching forward to grab V- but he was just out of reach.

Water surrounded V as he attempted to kick the thing away. A few bubbles escaped his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck fuck fuck he was there all over again. Kids had flipped him into the well- there was so much water. It was so cold. They laughed at him. He couldn’t breathe, he was drowning.

Look at the freak! Drowning as he should!

Maybe he won’t drown- then we would know he’s a witch!

Yeah! What are you going to do freak? Are you going to die? Are you going to drown?

Oh, stop that- as if your ‘mommy’ would even come for you. Just fucking die already- useless monster.

A hand wrapped itself against V’s forearm, tugging him roughly to the surface. He took in a sharp breath, the oxygen burning his lungs as he was pulled against someone’s chest. His breathing couldn’t slow down- was he breathing? Shit, he still couldn’t breathe. He was going to die here, in this person’s arms. He was going to die.

“Shh shh, little one it’s alright. It’s alright, breathe V,” The Duke's voice called- Duke? “It’s alright, I have you, you’re safe. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just breathe V.” Water dripped heavily from his clothes, an extra pair of footsteps splashing through the shallow.

“You said you would keep your things away from him!” Janus yelled before reaching out and pulling V away from Remus. J’s eyebrows pinched together, his lips curling up into a snarl as he held V to his chest, rubbing his back gently.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Remus moved forward, ready to fuss over V and comfort him however he could. Janus flinched them away, tightening his hold on V.

“No, run along. I’ll handle this.” Janus hissed out. V was gasping sobs against his chest, shaking like a leaf from either the cold or the adrenaline-maybe both. Remus looked at V helplessly.

“Please, just let me-”

“You’ve done enough. Go.” Pain shot its way through Remus’s chest. Janus brought his coat around V, covering him completely.

“Please,” Remus begged, his hands still outstretched. J looked up and sent him a murderous glare.

“Leave.”

Remus let out a shaky exhale, clenching his fits before shoving them to his sides. A stew of emotion boiled in his stomach. He decided it would probably just be best to leave before it boiled over and he somehow managed to make things worse. He always managed to make things worse.

There was one less sea monster in the lake by the end of the day.

Timeskip

About a week passed after the incident. Everybody was- understandably- very pissed off with Remus. The only person who seemed to tolerate his presence at the moment was his brother- somehow. L was also fine with him being around but Remus could tell he was on thin ice around him.

He felt guilty- of course he did. Remus knew there were dangerous things in the waters and he wasn’t paying attention. He should have at least been aware of how far in V was pushed. The only thing he was glad about was that he got to V before he was pulled too deep in or ran out of air.

As much as he was angry with the animals in the lake, he knew there were plenty that were passive creatures and many more that knew well enough to not dare touch what wasn’t theirs. Remus decided to keep lake maintenance to be done strictly at nighttime. If anything picked a fight with him, there’d be extra room in the lake for more passive creatures.

The moon lit up enough of the terrain and most of the plants were bioluminescent- as were Remus’s tentacles. Hues of light greens and seafoam lit the pebbles and shells under the water. Every so often Remus would find a piece of sea glass and pick it up, putting it in his pocket as a reminder to leave it at V’s door.

He had been doing that every day since V and him had last spoken. He felt bad but gods he was bad at words. He took it as a win when he would leave his ‘room’ every morning and see that the glass he had left was picked up. Sometimes he would get lucky and find a piece that was- according to L- ultraviolet. V really liked those pieces from what he’d heard from Prince.

At the moment, Remus was cleaning up the bottom of the lake and getting rid of the remains that some of the carnivorous creatures would leave behind. When he broke the water’s surface to place the bones of yet another dead lake salamander, he was surprised to see a body sitting on the other side of the dock. He was even more surprised when he noticed the soft and oh so quiet crying and shaking of the figure’s shoulders. He watched them cry for a few moments more before it clicked.

“... V?” Remus called, waiting somewhat impatiently for him to turn around. When he never did, Remus dove under the dock and swam to resurface in front of him.

“Hey, hey V, are you alright?” V sniffled and looked up from where his head but buried in his legs, tears rushing down the sides of his face. He blinked at Remus for a moment, opening and closing his mouth before letting out a near-silent sob and putting his head back down. Remus cooed and pushed himself up and out of the water, the strain on the muscles in his tentacles causing them to shine just a little brighter.

“Little one, I need you to take a deep breath alright? Just in,” Remus exaggerated his breath, frowning when V just heaved and shook his shoulders harder, “Little one, hey, look at me- good. Can I touch you?”

V nodded and unwrapped his arms from his legs, making small grabby hands for a moment before pulling back. Remus caught them before he had taken them too far and moved closer, rubbing his knuckles with his callused and wrinkled hands. V let out a shuttered breath, the sobs fading slightly into cries and weak whines.

“I know, I know, take a deep breath for me- yes that’s it, perfect,” Remus breathed along with him, rubbing his thumb along V’s knuckles in time with when he should breathe, “Good job little one, just keep breathing like that. What’s wrong- what happened?”

V made eye contact with Remus, eyes still glossed over with a panicked sheen. The bags under his eyes were dark and bruised, the moon making his eyes look brighter- the color of his iris seeming to glow in the dark.

“I… I had a nightmare.” V mumbled, looking away. Remus’s lips tightened, his heart heavy as he drifted closer.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not… right now. I’m just- I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I get that- that’s fine. I’ll get out of the water for you-”

“No! I mean- no I was um… I was thinking maybe uh…” Remus raised his eyebrows and gazed at V gently.

“Would you like to try swimming with me again?” He asked, rubbing his hands against his arms slowly. V paused before nodding, Remus giving him a warm smile. Nervousness settled in Remus’s chest, he can’t mess this up again.

“Hold on just a moment, I need to go check on something then we can swim.” Remus patted his arms before backing away and diving back under.

Swimming through, Remus glanced around for any of the more grabby monsters, sending a silent and rippling threat through the water. A threat of don’t touch what’s mine, if you do I’ll rip you limb from limb- I’ll make you an example. The vegetation squirmed and the creatures buried themselves below the dirt and rocks.

Remus sent a glare to a particularly brave monster and flashed his teeth, flexing his tentacles. It seemed to suffice but he used a bit of his magic to force the creature to bury itself in the rocks like the rest of them. Just in case.

Resurfacing, Remus looked to the mortal who was now standing up and lacking pants and his overcoat. He was shivering slightly, goosebumps all across his body. Remus smiled and offered him a hand, helping him slowly sink into the water.

Once he was completely in the water, Remus slid his hands up to V’s forearm. They were swimming only a few inches away from each other, Remus doing most of the work with his extra tentacles. V squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Remus’ arms tightly as he got used to the water’s temperature.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Remus whispered, trying to read his face. Virgil opened his eyes and sent Remus a pleading look- and oh did that just make his heart break.

“Just- Just help me?” He begged, trying to pull Remus closer.

“I will, I will, I promise. You have my word my horror.” Remus pulled V against his chest, his heart racing. V felt a tentacle wrap underneath him, helping him sit up. He let out a distressed keen, holding Remus’s shoulder with a vice-like grip.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s me,” Remus pressed a kiss to V’s head, “I’m not letting anything touch you.” Remus pulled his head back, using his spare hand to wipe some tears- or water- from V’s cheek.

V looked up at Remus, the light from the moon reflecting off the water and onto V’s face. Remus drifted his hand up the side of his face, tangling his hand in V’s hair. He looked so… precious. Janus was right.

V was glass. He was precious, breakable, one of a kind. Remus realized why the Prince and J were so possessive of him. He understood why Roman wanted to steal him away. He understood why Janus wanted to hold him to the end of time. He understood.

“My horror?” Remus breathed, “May I kiss you my horror?” V nodded and wrapped his arms around Remus’s neck. He didn’t need any more of an invitation.

Remus leaned forward and captured V’s lips with his, pulling him impossibly closer. He could feel his pulse against his lips, he could feel his hands pull at his hair. He could feel so much.

V wasn’t fairing any better, trying to lose himself completely in the smoky taste of Remus’s lips. Gods, other people absolutely did not taste like this. He tasted just like fireside rum- smokey, warm, addicting. A shiver shot down V’s spine as Remus licked gently against his lips, asking a soft question. There was nothing insistent about the kiss, no pressure to move on.

“Well well, what’s going on here?” A new voice asked, making the two of them jump and pull their heads apart.

“L you’re such an asshole!” Remus cursed, his heart pounding, “Don’t scare us like that- holy shit I think I just died a little.” L rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going to die, Duke,” L looked to V, “Good evening V. Why are you awake? Aren’t you going to be busy tomorrow- both of you?” Remus sighed and loosened his grip on V, not quite letting go. He sent a glare to L, starting to push the two of them to the dock.

“V couldn’t sleep, I was working on the lake. Sue us for having fun why don’t you.”

“Oh, you seemed to be having more than fun. I’m sure J or the Prince would be thrilled to hear about this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” L sent Remus a playful smirk.

“Wouldn’t I?” He looked back to V, “You should head to bed little one, it’s very late.”

Remus whispered a warning before raising both V and him to the dock, placing them carefully onto their feet. V shook the water from his hands, shaking his leg to the side to get what water that was still in pooled in his boxers to fall out. Remus ran a hand from his forehead to the back of his neck, squeezing out the excess water from his hair.

“I’ll go change and sleep in a moment L. Can you… go- please?” L huffed and rolled his eyes, turning his foot to start walking away.

“Alright, I’ll go. Sleep soon, good night.” L turned on his heel and left, disappearing in the brush a few meters away. Remus sighed and rubbed V’s back.

“L is right, you should go to bed.” Remus hummed, looking down slightly to make eye contact with V.

“If I sleep, will you wait by my door in the morning?”

“If the others don’t shoo me away, yes.” Remus chuckled. V nodded and bent down, picking up his clothes. He took a few steps away before pausing and turning around.

“Can you… can you walk me back to the clearing?” Remus smiled and outstretched his hand, allowing V to take it.

“Anything at your request, my love.”

Linebreak

Remus understood. He liked understanding. The others expressed their love for V constantly in gentle touches and soft words. Remus had the privilege of being able to be more intimate with him- to kiss him and hold him close- even if it was at a much lower rate than he would prefer. He understood why the others wanted to keep him. V was everything. Remus wanted to tear the world apart for V.

He didn’t want to keep V forever- honestly, he preferred sharing him. V seemed happy around the others and it made Remus happy to see him happy. There was nothing he loved more than V’s smile, nothing he adored more than his blush, nothing he wanted more than his taste.

Remus wasn’t afraid to say that he loved V- he would scream it to the gods themselves if he could. He thanked Eros for everything he blessed him with feeling and Aphrodite for how she had blessed V. V may be common folk, a mere mortal, but Remus would never hesitate to treat him like a king. He understood.

V was a precious glass and a gift from the gods. Remus would do anything and everything in his power to keep him together- to keep him alive and happy.

Taglist: @i-read-by-lamp

(^if you would like to be added just ask!)

[starfighter10]

tlou2 opinion

So I really had to share my opinion(rant) on the last of us part 2 and boy I have a lot to say. I am gonna dwell deep into this one, so bear with me if you can and want to

 But before that I have to share the feelings I hold for tlou1.Back when I finished tlou1, I knew I experienced something truly magical. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautifully crafted story, the execution of the characters, the music, the gameplay , and the effort that went into shaping the journey of the game,the character arcs and bonds. You could see and experience the uniqueness and passion that went into the first project. This game immediately became a favourite of mine.

When tlou2 was announced, my expectations were skyhigh,was elated to continue Joel and Ellie's journey and how it unfolds. The bar set by the first one was exceptionally high and probably impossible to achieve, but I had trust and faith in naughty dog, thought they couldn't go wrong with this one. After experiencing tlou2 , I am speechless.... not in a good way. I have no words to express my disappointment,frustration and anger I feel right now. I don't even know where to begin.... the absolute mess of a plot, the original characters being blatantly ignored, retconned and disrespected in favour of new bland characters, the plotholes in the story, the false advertising and marketing, naughty dog's hubris, making a complete mockery of your fans who are paying money to play something but getting baited for something else. I am utterly heartbroken and angry.

The plot - the driving force of the game is over ambitious, lazy,sloppy and nihilistic. It felt forced. Naughty dog bit off more then they could chew with this one. Tlou2 could have gone several ways in terms of plot with the existing characters, yet we get the cliche revenge plotline with the character abandoning the quest altogether to realise revenge isn't the answer. This trope has been done several times before, with more finesse and better execution. The writers aim for the " Ellie breaks the cycle of the revenge" but it really fails to achieve this as she blatanly annihilates several characters,npcs along the way in quest of her revenge. The damage has been done practically speaking. According to naughty dog's logic , I should expect Nora's sister or a random npc's friend/relatives in tlou3 hunting down Ellie in their revenge quest. Also Abby's quest literally does nothing for me. This character was so poorly written, executed and shoved down our throats, I didn't have any sort of attachment or empathy for her. I simply don't care about this character.

The circumstances that lead to Joel's death was out of character as well. Since the trailer drop in 2016, I was prepared for his inevitable death. Thought he would probably go out like the badass he is, maybe sacrificing himself for Ellie/tommy. The Joel I know from tlou1, a hardened survivor who has fought tooth and nail to survive the past 20 years would NEVER end up in a situation like that. Joel was intensely alert, critical,clever and intuitive. The argument here may be that he has softened in Jackson, but I feel at this point this should be 2nd nature to him. Something that is automatic. Yet the writer's now want you to believe he is a dumbass who would trust a group of strangers, make small talk and introductions and end up in a situation like that. One of the bigger issues was the constant reinforcing that Joel wiped down the fireflies in cold blood and doomed humanity for death by robbing them of their cure for survival,Ellie believing the cure would have been a guaranteed sure shot success ..... WHY? This retcons the first one completely. The beauty of the tlou1 was it's moral ambiguity and uncertainty. We were constantly hinted that fireflies is a mess of a group whose agendas weren't clearly known, whose actions caused the sacrifice of many people for the sake of a slight possibility of a cure.They were power hungry and were cruel enough to send a 14 year old girl to her death with no remorse,consent or any proper investigation or medical research. Joel initially negotiates to find someone else, gets shut down immediately, gets his means of survival snatched and was practically marched to his death. He had no option but to wipe clean these people who planned on killing someone dear to him, for something that is uncertain or in vain. And yes this was a selfish decision on Joel's part, and that was the beauty of it. The moral ambiguity. He was right or wrong or both - open to your interpretation. BUT NOW NAUGHTY DOG WANTS TO TO ERASE ALL THAT DEVELOPMENT. The active reinforcement that Joel was a cold, ruthless murderer who killed fireflies and deprived humanity of its cure? Trying to erase the fact that he was surviving and trying to keep his dear ones safe in this cold, brutal and unforgiving postapocalyptic world. So that we sympathize with Abby and enjoy golfing the tf outa Joel?. Ellie seems like a different character in this one, but again this character is immediately pushed to a whirlwind of traumatic events right from the start of the game. I missed her spark of joy,humour and enthusiasm. The treatment of the main chatacter in her own game is utterly cruel and disappointing, and seemed unfair to me. By the end, Ellie is broken beyond repair. Though she thematically chooses to be the better person and gives up on her vengeance and hate, she still manages to be on the losing side as she ends up losing her father figure which was her closest bond, loses Dina and the kid , she doesn't have her community, her people, her fucking fingers as well. Why? So Ellie could suffer a little more and be unable to do most important thing that bonded her to Joel. Not to mention she loses her switchblade too, her mother's final memory. Surprised that ND spared her mother's letter . Feel her pain and despair. Why does Ellie get such a shitty,depressing, worthless, futile and a hopeless conclusion while Abby not only gets her revenge successfully, forms a close bond in Lev and gets to escape possibly to a fresh start. Ellie? Nah she gets to suffer alone. Her BIGGEST FEAR has become a reality by the end. The least they could do is let Ellie have some solace and calm, surrounded by her loved ones on that farm,her trying to recover from her trauma slowly but surely, it's what joel would have wished for. But no, she is left all alone, absolutely traumatized, all by herself with nothing to look forward to. Oh and tommy is whole new character in every scene. So keep your eyes peeled for various versions of tommy throughout. The character inconsistencies are ridiculous.

The gameplay, beautiful sceneries, and new characters like dina and jesse are few of the positives of game - leaning more towards Jesse. Dina felt perfect for Ellie and Jesse did manage to lighten up few of the moments. The space shuttle cutscene, the museum flashback sequence, ellie and joel's flashbacks were the only parts that remotely captures the magic and beauty of tlou1. I got emotional watching them. The space shuttle sequence hits you with the feels. Joel slaying a bloater with a machete was cinematic art. (Hot too)

Abby... the forced deuteragonist, is an utter failure of character execution. Her character was forced onto us, felt hasty and lacked real build up. She starts off on the wrong foot by killing one of the most popular characters. If ND really wanted this character to work, the only possible way would have been to play her point of view and backstory prior to her mercilessly killing and torturing a guy who just saved her life. What was ND thinking? That a few hours of her pov,forced out of the blue background story, her getting to play with dogs while ellie has no option but to attack the dogs, the abby-lev bond which is pretty much discount or the walmart version ellie and joel would be enough to side with her over ellie and joel???? The part where they force you to play as abby against ellie? It made me sick. I felt cheated and disgusted.

The false advertising to make us believe joel is alive and good? That this is an ellie and joel centric game?To tug at your heartstrings like this. A complete mockery of the fans who waited 7 years to see their favorite characters get horribly treated,retconned, disrespected and thrown under the bus in favour of new unlikable characters. Butchering the heart and soul of the last of us - Joel and Ellie's bond. The fact that these two don't even get a heart to heart before his death, that Joel dies uncertain of ellie's future, maybe thought he could not save Ellie in those final painful moments, that she had never forgiven him, Ellie never getting her closure with Joel, or really getting to tell him how much he meant to her.... all these thoughts legit made me shed tears. Broke my heart. This is how much ND wanted to honour and respect ellie and joel.

The game's conclusion is hollow, futile, worthless and depressing. And in my opinion, this is non canon. This is the only way I can cope with this unsastifying conclusion. It is immaturity I guess... but I will feel better about it.

Though I utterly despise tlou2, tlou1 will continue to remain one of my favorite pieces of work in fiction. JOEL FUCKING MILLER WILL ALWAYS BE THE BADDEST BITCH AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HIM.

If someone actually read it all the way, thank you for your time and effort. Really needed to rant and let these negative emotions out.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #13- Swerve Doesn’t Have Any Friends

Okay, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way.

It’s a FUCKING SPORTS BRA AND RUNNING SHORTS ALEX.

And don’t think I don’t see that friggin’ cleavage alien back there. You ain’t slick.

I’m going to make it a law that all comic book artists learn how to draw clothes that don’t vacuum-seal themselves to women’s bodies. Milne gets six months for this infraction alone, and Roche gets a year for the initial bra crime he committed back in Last Stand. Learn how women’s underwear works, you ninnies.

Our issue opens up with Swerve stretching his radio personality muscles.

Oh, Guido Guidi, whisk me away to flights of fancy!

Our artist for this issue is none other than Guido Guidi, ascended from fanwork to deliver us from evil with his near-superhuman ability to emulate other artists’ styles and just make things look really pretty. He was responsible for the mythos pages in the 2012 Annual, AKA the best part. He also filled in on some of the art for Last Stand of the Wreckers, not that I really noticed because he’s just that good.

Swerve lets Blurr know that while it might have looked like the Lost Light had exploded, thus killing everyone onboard back in issue #1, that isn’t actually what happened. I’m glad someone filled in the Cybertronian populace on that.

I was never great at math, but those speech bubbles might be phoning it in a bit.

Swerve says that he’s having a great time on the quest, despite all the hiccups, and we get an explanation for why this long-range communications system hasn’t been seen prior to this point. It’s been broken for a while- most likely due to the quantum jump that started the series off with a bang- but Blaster managed to get it running again. Good job, Blaster. With this little setup for our framing device out of the way, we get into the meat of the story.

Swerve is being nosey about things that weren’t any of his business, happening in a closed off room, when Drift drags him down the hall and hid him away for safety. Swerve doesn’t much appreciate being manhandled, but there’s a method to the madness here.

Drift’s nose has vacated the premises once again, so we’re just going to have to deal with that. And how shapely does one have to be to be known as “the guy with the legs”? I mean, Drift is RIGHT THERE.

Drift uses his own powerful legs to kick down the door to Cyclonus and Tailgate’s room. It turns out that the horrific screaming wasn’t the sound of a murder or sexual relations taking place, but rather that of Cyclonus singing in Old Cybertronian.

My god, he’s completely enamored with this unrepentant murder machine.

We are just all up in Cyclonus’ grill for this panel. Nothing but lips. Was this specified in the script? Because it feels like it might have been specified in the script.

Old Cybertronian, or the Primal Vernacular as some might call it, was last seen in general when Rodimus channeled the will of the trapped Titan all across Tailgate’s chest. It was last seen spoken when we met Vos, the terrible murder gremlin who turns into a gun and uses his face to cause puncture trauma.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Now that we’ve established that no one’s being killed, Drift goes back to what he was doing earlier, with Swerve deciding to tag along because he’s horrifically lonely. He invites Drift to come room up with him, because I guess if you’re going to sell off your comatose roommate’s bed out from under him, you might as well go for the guy who’s third in command,  is probably one of the hottest guys on the ship, and slices people into chunky salsa if they try anything funny.

Drift politely declines, and awkwardly removes himself from the conversation when Swerve doesn’t take the hint, returning to his sword lesson with Rodimus.

Oh thank god, the obnoxiously pink room is back.

Ultra Magnus bursts into the room, appalled by the actions of his fellow crew members. Some of his concerns are well-placed. Others, well…

Is- is that another friggin’ retainer on those lower teeth? Why does this design choice keep showing up?

So Magnus has imprisoned roughly a third of the ship at this point, and Rodimus suggests he take a chill pill. Magnus doesn’t even know what a chill pill even is, so we’re forced to make use of our most dangerous weapon- the threat of a good time, courtesy of Swerve.

The fact that Ultra Magnus hasn’t reduced Swerve to an oil stain on the floor is genuinely astounding. The guy has zero respect for bureaucracy or proper business management. It has been MONTHS, you dinky little man, get your act together as a business owner.

Swerve takes the bribe, and soon everyone’s shipping off to Hedonia, where the drinks are plentiful and the women… well, most of the Lost Lighters don’t even know what a woman is, so that aspect doesn’t really come into play. Thanks, Furman.

Also, Rung’s back to normal. Don’t worry about it, not a big deal.

Swerve isn’t having much luck on his Roommate Quest, as Tailgate spurns his advances, stating that he’s good kicking it with Cyclonus, mainly because they’re both old as shit.

I see we haven’t quite hit the threshold on the “Cyclonus is allowed to have friends now” meter. Give it a few more issues, I’m sure we’ll get there.

Man, zero for two for Swerve on trying to get a hot roommate. Maybe third time’s a charm?

Rodimus pops into the back of the shuttle to remind everyone that their entire race is more or less despised by the entire galaxy, and to play it safe by using their holomatter avatars.

The revamp by Brainstorm and Rung is truly a blessing, because the avatars in IDW were awful to look at up to this point.

Y’all, that is HOT ROD. Jesus wept.

Getting back to Tailgate’s questionable taste in companionship, Tailgate asks if Swerve and Blurr connected right away. Swerve gives him an affirmative, then starts listing off the guy’s racing stats until Ultra Magnus plops down between the two of them, drawn in by the melodious sound of statistics.

Magnus is having a hard time relaxing, but he’s giving it his best, and I think that’s very commendable of him. It’s hard trying new things.

On the surface of Hedonia, it would appear the B-Movies are having a Pride event in the entertainment district.

Okay, moment of truth- show us those avatars!

Oh thank god, they aren’t totally hideous. Though, isn’t Rewind old as shit? I guess youth is a state of mind. Still, I can’t believe we missed out on silver fox Rewind.

Rung’s line is in response to folks at the time claiming that Rung was a self-insert character, which is interesting, because we’ve already seen what a self-insert looks like when it’s Roberts doing the inserting, and we’ve also seen his Mary Sues.

Rung, while an original character who had appeared in Roberts’ pre-professional works (a single line of text in Eugenesis, where he was a psychiatry play-on-words), he isn’t what I’d consider a Mary Sue. Mary Sues are usually stunningly beautiful, beloved by their peers, insanely talented in ways that no other character is, and typically have some sort of connection to another character that more or less forces them into the story despite not needing to exist.

Mary Sues don’t get their friggin’ heads exploded, or exist in a constantly-forgettable state. Sure, he’s the only therapist we’ve ever seen in the Transformers franchise, but there was kind of a massive need for that sort of character to be created, seeing as all of these sons of guns have PTSD and clinical depression. And, as we’ve seen in previous issues and will continue to see later on, he’s really not even that great at it.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t have certain traits befitting such a characterization, merely that they don’t add up to equal that sort of whole by issue #13. Transformers (2009)-era Drift is way closer to a true Mary Sue than Rung is.

Anyway, where the hell did Tailgate get to?

They really just let Frodo Baggins in this bar all babybjörned up, huh? Does Tailgate even know what a baby even is at this point? Does he just think he’s a very small person? How much human media has he consumed? We haven’t gotten into the reproductive process for the continuity yet, but fresh Cybertronians aren’t exactly a one-to-one to human infants. Damn it, Roberts, what the fuck am I supposed to make of Babygate?

Whirl’s off in the corner, disguised as a 12-year old girl who’s fucking STRAPPED. Magnus has disappeared, but Rewind locates him pretty easily as Rung makes a comment about Magnus needing to make an appointment with him.

Oh hey, Verity. Been a minute. Careful, ol’ six-eyes over there is leering at you.

The fellas come back to the bar as they truly are, and sit down for a round of drinks. Whirl gets Ultra Magnus a drink that sounds disturbingly like a Cybertronian equivalent to Milk Coke, and we get a little anatomy lesson. Transformers have something called a Fuel Intake Moderation chip, something that keeps them from getting drunk on pretty much the only thing they can consume. Swerve suggests Magnus turn his off so he can have a good time- which I don’t personally agree with, but this is Captain Stick-in-the-Mud we’re talking about here. Magnus gives it a shot.

And that’s a series wrap on Ultra Magnus!

No, the man’s just got no tolerance and has been knocked the hell out by his drink. Things begin devolving. Tailgate is crying. Skids has found out that Whirl didn’t give Magnus Milk Coke at all, but instead the equivalent of liquid cocaine. Swerve is convinced he’s going to prison. Rewind is filming the whole thing.

Nobody actually checks to see if Magnus is actually dead, until Rung gets around to it. Swerve, you’re a doctor by original trade, what the hell are you doing?

The boys sit Magnus at the table to wait out his nap. Hours later, nothing’s changed, except that they’ve started up the nemesis game, and Whirl’s decided he’s going to be rude about monoformers being monoformers. Rung gives a non-answer, because that’s just who he is as a person. Skids names Misfire as his worst enemy, only because he’s still missing a good chunk of memory and can’t remember if he had a worst enemy, but still wants to contribute to the conversation.

Rung, don’t be a dick, he did his best. You were right on top of Fort Max, it was a tricky shot.

Ultra Magnus finally starts waking up, and that’s the point where everyone decides to foot Swerve with the bill for the emotional labor he’s going to have to perform by explaining just what the friggity-frack happened.

Magnus starts laughing, then crying, then offloads his troubles onto Swerve. Magnus feels like he just doesn’t fit in on the Lost Light. He’s just trying to do his job and everyone makes fun of him, or disrespects his authority. He’s trying, he really is, but he’s just not built for post-war life. He’s actually tried to leave his position on the Lost Light, but they just keep pulling him back in.

Probably doesn’t help that Rodimus seems more interested in Drift’s opinion on matters than his own SIC half the time.

Oh no, he’s making digs at the things Swerve’s sensitive about. Where is Rung?

Magnus just wants to be understood, y’know? He’s a fully realized creation. He’s got interests. Like music! And the fact that Swerve is missing his Autobot badge!

This was the point where MTMTE was still bouncing back and forth on whether it wanted to commit to the crotch badge. It was a tumultuous time for everyone, very dark days.

WHERE THE FUCK IS RUNG

Magnus, having had enough of sharing his feelings, takes another sip of his cocaine and slips back into unconsciousness. Swerve admits to his limp body that people don’t actually like him, but rather only stick around because of what he can offer- namely, a good time.

The rest of the Swerve posse comes back, with Cyclones having joined the party. Rung shows off his new model ship, which gets Rewind started on his movie collection. He pulls up the opening ceremony for the Ark 1. Y’know, the Ark 1, that ship that Cyclonus was on that disappeared into the Dead Universe for six million years. The Ark 1 that Tailgate was supposed to be on.

Before we can get started however, someone throws the model at Rewind’s head.

That someone is none other than Cyclonus, who proceeds to fly into a rage, throwing tables and shoving the still-unconscious Ultra Magnus to the floor. My word, what a reaction! What could possibly be setting him off so much? Does he not like being reminded of his fated trip to the stars? Is this a manifestation of trauma from that event?

Who knows? No time for questions, Skids is too busy punching him in the face.

Tailgate intervenes, explaining that because Cyclonus and himself are so goddamn old, the engex Cyclonus consumed is wreaking havoc on his body. He tells the rest of them to go on while he tries to calm Cyclonus down. Interesting that Rewind doesn’t have any sort of input on this, given that he is also super fucking old, but there’s no time for questions! We’ve got to get Ultra Magnus back on the shuttle in the next 20 minutes, or else they’ll be stuck on Hedonia FOREVER.

They start throwing Magnus on the floor repeatedly, trying to get his t-cog to spin up. No dice, however.

It’s 4AM. Do you know where your Domey is? Because Rewind sure as hell doesn’t.

Okay, time for Plan B.

I’m guessing not, Rung. I’m guessing not.

Using Magnus as a trampoline does the trick, and the boys are rewarded with the sight of Magnus’ alt-mode… resting on its roof, upside down. They get him sorted, pile in the cab- Rewind is driving, which leads me to believe he at least has some experience handling a vehicle. Chromedome does turn into a car…

I don’t even know what that sort of activity implies for a Transformer. We won’t go any further down this line of thought.

The boys manage to get Ultra Magnus to the shuttle in time, and all’s well that ends well!

This is about the time that Blaster knocks on the glass at Swerve to wrap things up, seeing as he’s been at this for over nine hours now. There’s one last little aside before we’re done with our story, however, and it involves just what happened in the bar after everyone else left.

Cyclonus calmed down almost immediately after the rest of the guys left, paying for what he broke and inviting Tailgate to have a seat.

Well, I say invite, but it’s really more of an order.

If you’d already figured out at this point that this jumpy little marshmallow was lying about being the biggest badass who ever lived, a gold star for you! It turns out, dear Tailgate has been crafting a fabrication, spinning a yarn, telling a tall tale since Day One on the Lost Light. The story has been feeding us a steady diet of fish the whole time!

Red herring!

Red herring!

Red herring of Tailgate’s own design! Autopedia’s mods are a friggin’ joke.

Tailgate was supposed to be a the Ark 1 launch, but it was because he was on the cleanup crew. Boy’s a sluicer, and his arm SHOULD say "waste disposal”. Through a cunning use of his wits and cold reading, Tailgate faked his way through the dismantling of the bomb on Temptoria. A smart boy, he is, if not a bit self-centered.

Which brings us to why exactly Cyclonus freaked out in the bar: he wasn’t having an episode, but rather faking a reaction to prevent Tailgate’s lie from being exposed. He still thinks that Tailgate should come clean about this whole thing, before things get really messy, but it wouldn’t be an issue of MTMTE without some raw-ass emotions getting thrown about.

Cyclonus, who hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything other than simmering rage or national pride for over six million years, is beginning to feel something for Tailgate.

That feeling is sympathy, and maybe a little pity.

He offers to teach Tailgate a song to help him feel better, because that’s what he does when he has feelings.

And given that Cyclonus seems to sing often enough that Tailgate’s gotten used to the horrific sound, it might be that Cyclonus has feelings a hell of a lot more often than he lets on.

Roberts, how many times are you going to make Tailgate cry? How much pain are you going to subject him to before you’re satisfied?

The scene closes out on the two of them getting their karaoke on in the empty bar, in the god-awful language that is Old Cybertronian. I can only imagine that they get kicked out of the bar pretty quickly after this.

Getting back to the present, Swerve has finally, finally finished his story, closing out with an invitation for Blurr to come visit Swerve’s.

Blaster gets ready to shoot one hell of a voice message at Blurr, but there’s a problem; the number Swerve has isn’t long enough to be a personal hailing frequency.

Yeah, turns out that Tailgate isn’t the only liar on board the Lost Light.

Four million years ago, Swerve met Blurr at a publicity event, got way too friendly with a celebrity, pestered the guy until he gave him a fake number, and has convinced himself that he made a life-long friend to this very day.

Big oof.

Later, back at Swerve’s, Swerve is busy cleaning the glassware when Ultra Magnus comes in, sober and having just gotten out of surgery to fix his fuel tanks. Guess that second sip of Nucleon really wasn’t a good idea.

Swerve tries to tell a lie about what happened the night before, only to have the dawning horror that Magnus remembered the entire night, as he’s presented with a new badge. Swerve, bolstered by the fact that, while Magnus didn’t enjoy the previous evening, he appreciated having company, begins to ask Magnus if he’d want to room with him.

Wow, zero for three! That’s rough, buddy.

Kind of a bummer end to this whole issue, but it was still decently light, tone-wise, for MTMTE. A great deal of fun was had, in between all the mortifying reveals of our characters inner demons.

...Well, shit.

[fragnanceinth4w]

True Ending ?

Before you keep reading this has massive spoilers for the game... Like Seven route, Secret Endings, Jumin route, V route, Judge or Forgive..... Don't read if you haven't cleared the game haha thanks

Welcome to me ranting about how toxic the MysMe fandom is again !!! Or just read me yelling about the game in general.. This time I'm going talk about Seven, or Saeyoung if you prefer jdkskdjd.

First off, let me start by saying I have nothing against him, LIKE NOTHING I REALLY DON'T LIKE ABOUT HIM. I love him so much and he's my son 🥺 And of course he deserves to be healthy and happy and all. My only problem is not with the character itself, but with the character's fandom. Same goes for Ray but we're not about to start another thing now 🤡

Everyone talks about Seven as if he's the "true route" "true ending" and "canon". No. He's not?? I mean, I don't know, I never asked Cheritz specifically, so if anyone reading this has proof where Cheritz directly says he is the canon ending and he's the one the MC is supposed to end up with, PLEASE message me, and I will shut up. Trust me, I just did some research and I can't seem to find where Cheritz confirms that... And this is about the "reset" theory as well, where does it say that Seven loves you in every route? Because if that's true, I'm going to feel... Really guilty about it. Jk I won't lmao. Why would he like me in the first place? He doesn't even know me... I didn't even try to get close to him lmao. So if you find something that I can't seem to be able to find, I'm a message away. :)

I don't like Seven's ending. I don't like it, like AT ALL. And not because you don't end up with Jihyun (People talk that way about his route.. Saying you don't end up with Saeran) but because he DIES. It's pretty much self-explanatory that he dies in all the other routes (except his!!) as well,(excluding Saeran, because I haven't played it yet.. But I heard he gets a bad ending there too) since he stays in Mint Eye and we all know he'll end up dead anyways.. It's what he wants. He wants to protect everyone and he is willing to give up his life to save them. But in Seven's ending, not only they (kind of) SHOW HOW HE DIES but he also DIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF JUMIN, HIS CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND. Jihyun is literally the only one he has. He doesn't have a mother, his father is basically ignoring him with his shitty gold diggers and he's not close to anyone in the RFA. HE IS COLD BECAUSE HE THINKS SHOWING HIS FEELINGS DOESN'T MATTER. He doesn't even want to become friends with anyone at all.

(Another kinda big parenthesis here, the reason why he doesn't like women isn't because "Does Jumin Han is gay" or whatever, I DESPISE that stupid "joke" so much, it's not funny at all, and it's so unoriginal. It's the other way around, he and Jihyun are the ones that are most likely to be straight,since they both were canonically "in love" with Rika and in their respective routes, they end up with MC. The reason why he doesn't like women is because of the amount of women his father dates. He doesn't know that there could be someone that would truly care about him, not for his money, but for he, as a person. He thinks all women are the same, and he's not completely wrong.. most of us are like this. It's all so much deeper than "he's gay!!" and it is not funny or something you should joke about. He is not a character that should be used for LGBT+ representation or whatever.)

Back to our topic, Jumin and Jihyun were best friends for about two decades. (not one!!! They didn't meet when they were 15, tf) (And they also shouldn't be shipped together????? They're best friends, their friendship is so pure.. Stop misunderstanding it??????????) How would you feel like if you watched your childhood best friend, the one you've been friends with for 20 years, pretty much the only one you still have by your side, just die? And you could do nothing to save him?? You do not overcome something like that.. It's permanent trauma. And it's even worse considering that this is not his route, meaning that now he's left with nobody. Since Seven and Jumin share a story mode, (I mean Deep Story..) the Sarah storyline is canon, and Jumin probably ends up with her.. Which only just makes things even worse for him.

You know let's just say, this is Seven's route. It's not Jumin, so obviously he can't be happy, or as much happy as Seven. I can accept that.. What annoys me is that everyone says Seven's ending is the true ending.

How is it the true ending though? The only ones that actually end up happy is Seven, Saeran and MC. Again, THIS IS NOT WRONG, IT IS ONLY NORMAL TO NOT BE ABLE TO HAVE EVERYONE HAPPY.

Right?

No??????? Have y'all even played Judge or Forgive???????????? I mean of course you haven't, y'all's asses are stuck to Saeran route and sobbing over how "his AE isn't out yet !!!!!!!!!!!" like bitch shut the fuck up at least you got a kiss CG. Anyways, if you even bothered to do V route and his AE, Saeran doesn't die !!!! He actually is happy !!!!!!!! You know who else is happy? SEVEN IS HAPPY. Like actually happy.

This is the reason why I consider V's ending the true ending.. Of course part of the reason is because he's my fav but I actually can support my opinion with arguments.. Unlike y'all saying Seven route is true ending because his route has the most plot twists (????? and how does that make it the true ending ?????)

You see, V's ending actually leaves pretty much everyone satisfied. Of course not everyone is HAPPY HAPPY but at least nobody dies??????? Seven and Saeran finally meet and Saeran "forgives Seven for abandoning him" (yeah I ain't blaming him, there was nothing he could do really) and like they're actually happy lol. Yeah they're HAPPY HAPPY because they don't need a girl more than they need each other.

I remember making a post on Instagram were I talked about how I consider V's ending the canon one because it leaves everyone happy and someone just commented that Saeran dies in his route?? I answered saying that he actually is not dead and he is safe and happy in the end and they kept talking bullshit like "yeah but he's not really happy" UHHH????? HE IS??????? JUST BECAUSE HE'S NOT WITH THE MC DOESN'T MEAN HE CAN'T BE HAPPY????

Tbh this is just my personal opinion but I think Saeran needs a family more than he needs MC... I haven't played his route yet and maybe it's because I played V's too many times but I CANNOT picture him as my boyfriend or husband.. I see him as my son. And I think that he'd be happier with Seven (his brother) and V (his father figure) rather than just MC as his wife. Then again, that's only my opinion.. It just kinda annoys me how obsessed he is with you at the start of Another Story and how you kinda support that obsession if you get his route.. That's not really true. I think the MC only wants to help him, but why can't we do that in V's route..? Do y'all really HAVE to date someone to believe they're happy?

How about everyone can think whatever they want?? Like, we can choose whatever ending we like?? (Bad Endings excluded, cough cough Rika stans, cough cough toxic Jumin "stans") If someone thinks Yoosung is the true ending, that's up to them.. Do not just go around saying Seven is true ending as if it's confirmed and actually canon.. Because it's not. We don't care about how much you like him and how cute and funny he is. Shut the fuck up.

I've been typing for literal days so Imma just saying this lastly, EVEN RIKA IS HAPPY IN V'S AE. I don't really know about Judge Ending cause I heard it's fucked up but in Forgive Ending, she actually becomes a better person. Like truly regrets everything she did and actually does good to people. This is the only Rika I approve of.. Shut the fuck up toxic Rika stans 🤢🤢🤮

Anyways yeah that's all.. My personal opinion, don't you even think about fucking attacking me you toxic assholes (only talking about the toxic part of the fandom...) But we can argue :^)

Have a great day / night ~ ✨

[borderlandsthirst]

Flame Angel au

Koetai  

Physical 

Has a long gash going down her back at a slanted angle, it’s decorated with the twins’ snake symbol and a pair of dragon wings. 

Triple pierced ears, a small hoop for the earlobe and studs for the other holes. 

Long kinky hair kept in a ponytail, left side of her hair shaved around the ears. 

Has smaller scars over her body from years of abuse, use to try and cover them but now wears them with pride. 

Fashion since is nonexistent, just like the twins she wears an inconsistent color scheme. 

Has her own symbol she wears on the back of her jacket. A dark orange, six-winged serpent surrounded by flames. 

Has a pet Spiderantling name Natty who grows up to be a badass Spiderant Queen. 

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!! 

Long post under the cut along with psychological destress and dark thoughts.

Mental 

Mostly shattered, years of mental and physical abuse has left Koetai in a state of numbness that only eases when the twins are around. 

It’s a bit unstable, can fly off the handle sometimes and takes it out on the followers.  

Has accidentally scratched Tyreen once while having a fit, it didn’t really affect her physically but emotionally she understands what it means to be treated poorly by your parents. Even if it’s not the same kind of trauma. 

Sometimes she’ll just shut down while in the safety of the Cathedral, while working with a saint or one of the twins she just stops and stare into the distance. Takes a while to bring her back 

Has stolen small unimportant items from the twins to take with her while she’s in the field so it feels like they’re with her. She needs them with her. 

Feels empty when the twins aren’t around or isn’t being praised by the followers, she’s the right hand of the twin Gods, she’s the enforcer. How can nobody see how powerful and important she is? 

Is a bit sadistic, will toy with Crimson Raider soldiers like a cat and then kill them in the most gruesome way imagine with her bare hands or a weapon that’s either her’s or theirs. All with a smile on her face. 

Takes pleasure in all pain, mostly people she knows are innocent and not fighters. Why should she care about the pain of children when nobody cared about her’s? 

Personality 

Crazy, that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened to her. 

Will fake you out in a heartbeat, one second she’s quiet and smiling real menacingly in your face, the next you’re lying on the ground bleeding while she walks off with your money and loot. 

Only when she’s with the twins can the girl she could have grown into is revealed, kinda shy in interested in music and crafting. And yoga, she has to be at ease to keep the twins at ease when they’re about to snap. 

Loves Troy and Tyreen but would never tell them (they’ll figure it out on their own eventually), because to her they are real Gods. 

When she’s focused on something she’ll get real quiet so her concentration isn’t broken. Sometime she’ll stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, Troy and Tyreen have many pictures. 

Gets along with the twins amazingly well, it’s almost like they’ve been together forever. Will let Tyreen do her hair and makeup, will let Troy do her nails. All three of them will sleep in a pile. 

Is standoffish towards literally everyone else, the bandits of Pandora remind her too much of a crazy, shitty father. 

See the cultist as demons, they aren’t even lost souls, just ants on the surface of a dry ass planet, but the twins have given them a chance to seek out salvation. She just loves the part where the follows fall out of line, although she hates seeing the twins angry, she loves the killing part.

Troy 

Physical 

Has a pretty nasty scar on his right shoulder leading down to the area across from his ribs. 

Troy protects his damaged area with a skin friendly and cushiony gel liner filled with medical beads. It hugs his shoulder and keeps his bracer in place without causing more harm to his body. 

Wishes for nothing more than to be normal like his sister, he constructs a prosthetic using stolen Hyperion tech that (surprisingly) still works and sprays it his skin tone. 

He has built up muscle mass (but is still skinny around his ribs) still has his eight pack (or is it a six pack?) 

Will cake on so much eye shadow you wonder if it's just a part of his face. And wears more eyeliner that is necessary when in front of a crowd. 

Has nipple piercings, gauges, a lip piercing, and a di- 

Still has the things in his arm (because Idk what they are) that are medical ports the pump nutrition into him. And so does his spinel connecter.  

THICK THIGHS AND ASS!! 

Mental 

Hates his body, even though he has an eight pack he loses weight at a dangerous rate, he has to eat lots of meat every day. 

Has night terrors often and usually wakes up with a knife in his hand. He wishes he could muster his powers to heal himself a real right arm. 

Tyreen usually has to come and calm him enough to get him back in bed, on especially terrible nights she’ll have him sleep with her for comfort.  

When alone he mumbles his mother’s name like a mantra, Leda Calypso. Like saying her name with keep him from going insane. 

Is angry at Tyreen for latching onto him as a fetus and almost killing him, but knows that she obviously didn’t mean to, this kind of thing happens sometimes to twins. And it’s not like she could do anything about the Leech, she was a fetus. 

Doesn’t stop him from hating what happened. Even though he loves his only family member. 

Has found himself thinking about very dark things involving Tyreen and blood. 

Making his prosthetic look like a real arm only broke him more, but even if it looks real, he knows it’s not. 

Personality 

A mask of channeled angsty goth teen energy, not as dramatic as Tyreen, but when he is it’s a fucking show. Overconfident in himself and cocky. 

Doesn’t like when the followers get too close to him, Tyreen, or Koetai. Will act like he gives a damn about his followers at a distance, but if they get too close? He crushes they’re skull with his cybernetic. 

Is a cold and viscous beast with no remorse for anyone, will stump in your ribcage just for looking at him. 

Keeps his personal saints at an arm's length, on Koetai can get close, anyone who steps out of line is, well, dead. 

Behind closed doors he’s all over his machines, he loves to tinker and build. He created the blueprints for the COV’s guns, Koetai’s buzzaxe, and countless other knickknacks across the camps of Pandora. 

Loves beatboxing, will make up some horrible beat in hopes that Tyreen or Koetai will rap or sing to it, can actually sing himself. Has sung the girls to sleep before. 

Records personal logs for himself whenever he’s in the mood, it can be about anything, personal issues, how being the GodKing makes him feel, how there’s really only one asset in his life that’s keeping him together. 

Love to bake, surprising to someone who doesn’t know him. But Troy loves sweets and it’s hard to get that on Pandora, so he makes them himself. 

Tyreen 

Physical 

Tyreen has a matching scar on her left shoulder blade where she was connected to Troy. 

She wears at least two layers of clothing to ensure it stays hidden, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot out, if her scar is covered then she’s satisfied.  

Has perfected a balanced look of dark makeup to make her look grown and sexy since she has a baby face. Sharp eyeliner, dark blue or black eyeshadow, and variety of dark lip-glosses.  

Works out with Troy (but not too much, just enough to stay in shape) so she has a nice four pack. 

Also has piercings, cute little studs for her ears, a nose piercing, nipples too, and a cl- 

Has her mother’s last name tattooed across her lower back. And has the COV logo tattooed on her right shoulder (really to match the eye on Troy’s shoulder.) 

Doesn’t wear a glove on her left had (since it doesn’t do anything nor does it really match the outfit.) 

THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES, while big booties end them. 

Mental 

Can HEAR the Leech talking to her, trying to convince her to consume more, feed more, TAKE MORE. Has even told her to leech her brother more times than one. 

Was once teetering on the edge of insanity because of the constant whispering in the back of her head, but over the years she’s managed to push it back. But sometimes the voice breaks through again. 

Because of the voice she barely sleeps, it’s not like she needs to, but she can’t even if she needed to. 

Loves her brother with all her heart but feels like he hates her for what she’s done. Sure, she wasn’t even born yet, but she almost killed him before he was even born. 

Actually despises the fact she’s a siren, if she wasn’t a siren Troy would messed up, mom would still be alive, and dad wouldn’t have treated us so coldly. 

Doesn’t have it together as much as she likes to think, would have a mental breakdown behind closed door, Troy has only seen it once and spent hours with Tyreen as she sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. She made sure to never let him witness that again. 

Tyreen has clawed at her tattooed arm a few times, scratched thick deep cuts that immediately heal close, just to be scratched open again. 

Only perusing the Grant Vault for Troy’s sake, hopefully all that power will keep his stable for the rest of their lives. 

Personality 

Egotistical and shamelessly smug. Thinks she’s big shit and that she’s on top of the world. Lives with a shit-eating grin on her face while in front of the camera. 

Actually convinces everyone around her that she truly does care about of her followers (but is really still afraid of them.) Wouldn’t hesitate to punt-kick one in private though.  

Enjoys followers throwing themselves at her feet to offer gifts and praise, but if anyone touches her, even accidently, they’re dead. They’re not even allowed to kiss her boots, she doesn’t want their saliva on her clothes. 

When away from public she is extremely soft and sweet, kisses? She gives kisses to her brother and to Koetai, she is also pretty chill. 

While Troy bakes, Tyreen cooks. She may not need to eat real food but that doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. Pasta, sandwiches, a fucking baked potato? You name it, she can make it.  

Loves to sing, her mother said she had the voice of an angel, will perform a little concert for Troy and Koetai and feel flushed and proud afterwards. 

Enjoys painting like no one would believe, has a painting station in the corner of her room where she spends a good amount of time painting pictures of her loved ones, which is only three people, not including her father. 

Enjoys just, sitting outside on her balcony with the fresh air, even if the air is dry and smells like skag shit.  

First time I’ve ever written anything like this and I’m sure I did it badly, still more to come, should work on a position structure or something. Also need to make a layout of the common and working rooms.

[iturbide]

There's a part of me that really liked Gangrel. Don't get me wrong, he really fucked up there near the end, but he does show remorse after you recruit him. His Hot Spring Dialogue with Emmeryn /wounds/ me. ;-;

Friend you are not alone 

I actually really like Gangrel, too!  He’s a deeply flawed character who did some absolutely terrible things during his time in power, but he’s also one with a lot of potential, who could have been so good under different circumstances.  I actually have a lot of headcanons about Gangrel, and I’ve put about as much thought into how he ended up the way he did in canon as I have for Validar.  

Even though it may not be exactly canon compliant, I personally think that Gangrel is a war orphan who witnesses his mother’s murder at the hands of the former Exalt before the halidom’s forces burned the village to the ground, leaving Gangrel as one of if not the only survivor of the slaughter.  He managed to find his way to another town crowded with refugees, and spent the rest of his early years on the streets, but the memories of that event haunted him in waking and in sleep, and his hatred for the halidom, her people, and especially her ruler continued to fester in his heart and mind. 

His mother had been a devout Grimleal, but after witnessing those horrors, Gangrel lost any faith he might have had: Grima did not come, did not help them, did not save them from Naga’s men, and isn’t that the point of their divine protector?  He did, however, end up getting a lucky break in his teenage years as he tried to talk his way out of a tight situation (likely a theft gone wrong): one of the bystanders heard in his arguments some curious, almost idealistic notions for reform, and stepped in to help.  She happened to be a member of the king’s council, and brought the thief before the king himself to speak his peace; the king, too, heard something promising in Gangrel’s words, and gave him an opportunity to see those very thoughts put into practice by offering him a place on the council.  

With the rest of the council to temper the worse aspects of his nature, Gangrel fared well in his position, learning many of the ins and outs of the Plegian government; unfortunately, things went downhill when the former king died and the diviners were called to select the next ruler.  Though Validar was also a candidate, many feared his cruel ambitions, and he ended up getting passed over…for Gangrel – who again, had no faith in Grima whatsoever (which just made him all the more certain that the whole ‘divining Grima’s will’ thing was a crock of shit).  Putting him on the throne was where things started to go wrong, because while the council was there to advise him, Gangrel’s political powers reached far beyond them – and he suddenly saw an opportunity to fulfill the desire for vengeance that had been burning in him for so long. 

Gangrel is a smart man.  His formal education might be lacking, but he is sly, cunning, and adept at playing off people’s fears and beliefs.  Despite the council’s attempts to keep him in check, Gangrel began to push for action, starting small with the notion that Plegia should demand reparations from the halidom, who had done no more than call their forces back across the border following the end of the last Exalt’s crusade.  Realizing that he could exploit Gangrel’s hatred of Ylisse, Validar reached out and made an offer: he would offer the full support of the Grimleal in the king’s ambitions, in exchange for Gangrel’s official sanction of the faith.  

And Gangrel wanted nothing more than to see Ylisse burn. 

With Validar’s help, Gangrel began to prey on the Plegian people’s fears: the bad blood that had so long existed between Ylisse and Plegia was easy to exploit, and he soon managed to gain the support of the increasingly fearful masses.  He began to send small raiding parties across the borders in hopes of baiting an attack by the Ylisseans (and souring relations between Ylisseans and Feroxis to prevent foreign aid), which would give him an excuse to launch a war of his own, though Emmeryn never gave in.  Eventually he resorted to kidnapping Maribelle to force the Exalt’s hand, knowing that she would never part with the Fire Emblem and expecting that he would get his war in short order – but Emmeryn insisted on bolstering the halidom’s defenses, rather than attempting to invade, which again proved problematic for the Plegian king. 

Around that point, though, word arrived through the ports that Walhart had nearly completed his conquest of Valm, and it seemed all too likely that the foreign emperor would not stop there.  Perhaps Gangrel really did believe that a united continent was the only way to save them all – but his hatred twisted that into a certainty that with a pacifist ruling Ylisse, they would all fall anyway.  So he sent Validar to assassinate her. 

In the original timeline he succeeded, which gave him the very war he wanted and ended in his death.  In the revised timeline, he failed, but in the end he still managed to capture the Exalt…and then, acting on the rage and hate that had so long ago corrupted him, he put her to death in the most horrific way he could imagine, given his own fear of heights.  And he still got his war, and earned his death. 

Gangrel never realized was that, as his hate corrupted him, he became the very mirror of the last Exalt who he so despised.  Aversa and Validar preyed upon that hatred, fed all of his worst impulses, and drove him faster and further down that road – but coming back from death as he did, he finally had a chance at introspection.  He could see where that hatred truly brought him.  And that realization that he became no better than the man who killed his family drives him to despair.  It takes a lot to drag him back out of that: he needs to find a new purpose, which he finally does with Chrom and the Shepherds…but it doesn’t change what he did.  And as hard as he tries, he knows his crimes will pursue him for as long as he lives.  That remorse haunts him, now, much as his hatred once did…but it tempers him far better. 

Even so, can you imagine what things might have been like had Gangrel had more support?  Not just acquaintances working toward the same goal as he did in the council, but true friends, or a new family that could help him deal with those old traumas?  He could have been so much better – so much more – than what his all-consuming hatred made of him in the game. 

[muertaheux]

Post J call (19/05) [diary sub.]

  4 days of no sleep  has meant  unblocking+subsequently spending a lot of time thinking about or talking to J the past couple days.   but damage done  & now that I know that this man has stopped doing all the things he was supposed to do continue doing once we were completely over; ensuring that he does those things again feels like my responsibility!! 

-SO! An attempt at digesting some of the most jarring things he said since instantaneous reflection/clarity was impossible !! -

“when you first wanted to end things there was no doubt that you’d be coming back out here”

like there’s a pandemic and i have no reason i need to go back to the bay as it’s alll online now ??

“see I’m not even in LA!! I chose not to be for you!!”

We’ve had no contact for months and I had no idea he still mainly lived in Oakland?? So that cannot be put on me?? ALSO literally one of the last things I had said to him was about how at least now he can live in LA & something to the effect of how he should try + actually enjoy the lifestyle now?? LA bitches always made me feel a way & a lot of the LA guys he worked with or just at different events were just a lot???

“How can you act like this is the way its supposed to be with us?? If you just decided that there’s not even a chance anymore than that’s fucked up that you gave me false hope”

WHAT THE FUCK. It’s certainly not healthy to entertain possibility of reconciliation, for plenty of reasons but especially as he’s not risen to the occasion of doing what he needs to do! I didnt leave him high and dry as he has the blueprints, tools, and resources now. Literally last night he was texting acknowledging how we’re both not “whole” and it seemed he got that we must be separate but I guess not?? I didn’t give him false hope???

Damn like I was still balancing my own academic + professional + personal obligations and mental health ?? I will do basically anything for someone I love and as his gf ended up taking on quite a bit . But I was 21/22 w. a rigorous course+research load,demanding job, & my own traumas & mental illness to manage??? I loved tf out of him but I am too young & too shaky myself for the dynamic we had to have been sustainable?? I don’t regret putting him onto therapy+psychiatry & the business/financial resources/techniques but being his buffer for the industry stuff in LA was exhausting & fucked w me. I hate almost everything about LA& I get that he’s more introverted than me + has wild imposter syndrome but he was the one who had a right to be there I’m not even remotely connected to that field and again I despise most of the LA bitches- I’m in my early 20’s obviously I would still have wild self esteem issues etc?? I would literally be crying for a good portion of the drive or flight down there almost every time after the first one. But as he would literally run every single business decision or interaction by me & even once the money started coming + he had validation regarding his skill set, for awhile he still would be  second guessing the creative aspect of it;   and he only really trusts & is out of his shell completely with his Oakland friends, people in LA/anyone he works with he views strictly as clients/collaborators - he wouldn’t go to anything he needed to  in LA if I wouldn’t come with him. Okkk yes he was ode loyal/ attentive to me as well as supportive + invested in my stuff & we really protected/looked out for one another in different ways, so it’s not that he was undeserving.. I just can’t be or do everything for someone!!! I also would not even have chance of being close to happy if I stayed in states now that I am completely disillusioned with medicine ??

“That’s insane that you’ve been able to move on like this that’s so fucking ode [my name redacted]. I bet you were fucking other people when were together”

What. the . fuck. I WAS NOTHING BUT LOYAL WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER AND UNLESS I WAS IN CLASSES OR WORKING WE WERE TOGETHER!! I actually  have never spent so much time with one person (and didn’t even mind it) before or after him. He knows I never cheated on him smfh he hurled this same accusation back in the winter after I started hooking up with someone again. So I don’t really get why he’s even acting like this is brand new information because the inciting incident for me to cut him off completely a few months ago was how he was handling me hooking up with someone. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to tbh??

Also if it wasn’t for pandemic or if he was IN LA as a single man, I’m sure he would’ve ended up with at least someone ?? Yeah he’s not a hookup kinda guy but if he was taking the same drgz  but Im not there than Im sure he’d have plenty of bodies, he’s objectively gorgeous to the point that people are wild confused by his personality & mannerisms.

ALSO we’ve been broken up technically since the fall!! I’ve hooked up with TWO people, which is my prerogative?? I could hookup with a ton of people and it would still be well within my rights as in no way are he and I together ?? It doesn’t mean I don’t care or love him at all but it’s literally mid- May?? I get that he’s mainly upset that the person I most recently was with is the guy from Feb. What I didn’t count on or realize was that I had given J enough info that combined with his naturally sharp memory he’d piece together that the Feb/recent guy is the last person I was in love with before the relationship w J. Once he figured that out he was pressing for more info but I never give out names from situations anyways & I actually had to aggressively ask him if he enjoyed being hurt or something because there’s no reason he needs to fixate on this ??

“this is so fucked up youre not gonna give us a chance to say goodbye for real?? you promised me that it wouldn’t be the last time we saw each other , was this your plan all along ? i can’t believe i really thought you were gonna come back . i’m so fucking stupid. when i heard about schools, even graduations, going online i convinced myself that you still had to come back here or that you’d find a reason. what the fuck rachel! what am i supposed to do?”

Ok he started off yelling (for him) there but once it was just crying i got that his abandonment issues are triggered & that’s definitely valid but he can’t guilt me into coming out to Oakland & based off the past couple days he is not in a place that I can trust myself around. We’d definitely end up fucking & probably doing drgz & there would be no closure we’d just have intense /cinematic experiences that will make separation that much harder AGAIN. We can bring out the best in one another but we also bring out the absolute worst!! We can’t forget the truly fucking horrible parts of our relationship and how out of control it was. Love is not enough!!! The way we loved one another was all consuming & that doesn’t work when there’s soooo much individual healing+ growth that needs to happen.

of course i still love him as well , but i can’t even remind him of that as it’ll then be “so you’ll come back?” fuck like people can love people and know not to be with them!! if i was in a better place maybe i’d think about it; but i’m so far from where I need to be. ofc I miss a lot about him and the relationship but it’s more detrimental than it is beneficial!! it’s not like he didn’t have his grievances too he just doesn’t keep them in perspective in this type of situation . like yeah we coexisted extraordinarily well & never had little arguments over dumb shit/ needed a break from one another; but when we would fight it would be a massive aggressive blowout. ok great we didn’t find one another annoying but also we were respectively v fucking triggered by some deep rooted behavior (i.e our respective parents +trust issues, ptsd and psychosis manifested completely differently; bc of our constant proximity to one another - my BP was on full display multiple times; i accepted he was set on carrying but it was ultimately more like stockpiling ; we both at times did reckless things which made us obsess over the other’s safety [mine mainly in mixed or manic states] ; different attitudes/approaches to drgz) . the codependency was in some lights eventually p unhealthy , especially as eventually down the road itd be impossible to accommodate that degree of attachment to one another!!

ok in some way it’s romantic or w/e that we literally couldn’t be w/o one another at night but also we made it way harder on ourselves when we’d focus on making sure we could be with the other at their obligation instead of our respective responsibilities(i.e me always in LA with him, he ended up coming overseas 3x (EU&Middle East) when I was there for work/conference( for countries he wouldn’t be able to get into he waited at w/e neighboring one would be safe for him),  based his UK work trip around my exams schedule so he could bring me, brought me to PFW, etc. )  even considering taking space at any point was never a real conversation..  we were genuinely best friends but just bounced back from w/e dysfunctional argument we had vs solving it and we’re both mad paranoid people & we need someone to physically be there to feel reassured;on the surface and in actuality in some ways the dynamic was ideal- (regardless tho having someone be your primary safety is hardly fail-safe ).

Both of us are insomniacs & deal w night terrors; but from v. early on we figured out how to handle these things in each other to the point that both of us stopped our respective nighttime vices & could sleep naturally; in the case of night terrors the other person would soothe them back. His overwhelming need to protect found a match with my overwhelming longing for safety even before we knew a ton about one another&the respective back stories. Because of Chantel Miller’s assault case that had gone viral(re:the SU Swimmer case) years before, J was convince su at night was dangerous & always picked me up+ put pepper spray canister in my bag literally a week after we first met. When he learned my history/some of the traumas (mainly nyc r**** & parts i shared re:tr********* abroad) etc he was especially ode about my overall safety. (Tbf he has seen a lot in his life but he mistook my taking risks at times as being completely oblivious when most of the times it was because I had assessed the situation and compared to other experiences and I knew I could handle it; ofc for some of the episodic instances it was way more precarious of a situation. )When it was clear that it wasn’t just some over controlling maneuver, it was just easier to try and listen to him about which areas and times to avoid tbh& spared the details of my ~pickups~. He didn’t need protection in the same way; besides the support/‘protection’ for LA/industry stuff, he needed emotional support/validation, reassurance, and to be nurtured & encouraged.

[spacemomalex]

So... Sera being unpopular is sexist, but you admitted you don't like her either... so are you calling yourself a sexist then?

Alrighty I hope you’re sitting down because boy howdy do I have a rant for you!

Why I dislike Sera as a person, not a character

As a writer (like many on here) I have an interesting relationship when it comes to my feelings for a story, it’s characters, and my own morality. That means, I am perfectly capable of being incredibly approving of, fascinated by, or even adore a character who’s morality is very different from my own.

This is very true for Sera. As a character, Sera is a complex thought provoking creature. 

As an elf, one would expect her to have an understanding of why racism against elves is such a terrible thing, but she doesn’t. Instead of caring about elves and the struggles they face, she ignores and dismisses them as simply being “too elfy”. Which is a throw back to the people in our world today who are the ones effected by racism, but deny that it exists for “points” with their oppressors/to avoid being oppressed/don’t want to admit how oppression affects them.

She of course brings to our attention racial stereotypes, (her conversation about how most elves can’t actually shoot a bow), but again doesn’t seem to realize that those stereotypes can be harmful to other elves. (Say, an elf who can’t shoot worth a damn is brought along and given a bow and told to fight. Despite their protests that they can’t shoot one, they are dismissed and as a result people get hurt and killed and the elf is blamed for not helping. Even though they made it clear that they could not shoot, the fact that the stereotype was so reinforced in everyone else’s mind, they ignored that fact and it would be their fault people were hurt. Not the fault of the elf who couldn’t shoot in the first place and tried to prevent this from happening.) 

This applies to when talking about the Dalish. Sera constantly refuses to understand them or their ways, or why city elves try to follow the old customs. Writing them off as simply ‘old’ and therefore not worth her time to learn or apply to her own life. She simply refuses to see how human oppression of elves truly affects elves and firmly believes that the only problem is the nobility and pride.

Even when supplied with firm proof that the elves have every reason to be “elfy”- as shown with the scroll about Red Crossing and the temple of mythal- she is steadfast in her denial of elven culture.

This makes her fascinating. It makes her a commentary that we should look into and ponder over our own actions and thought processes regarding race and oppression. I love her as a character because we get to see this young girl, hurt by a parental figure be allowed to grow into a young woman who still feels the affects of that. We get to see this young woman who is not shamed for her past and allowed to make mistakes because of it.

As a person though? Sera is a willfully ignorant prideful little shit who doesn’t want to admit that things are more complex than what she wants to believe. Why? Because she doesn’t want to admit she was ever wrong. I can understand why she feels this way, having been raised by an abusive human, but I was also raised by abusive racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic assholes and I will always fight for the rights of the oppressed groups these things hurt. Because I know better about how my privileges and the parts of me people are trying to oppress. Sera never learns how to be a better person and understand her own race better.

This mindset is one in the world today that we are all watching destroy our freedoms. I dislike Sera as a person because she is the exact kind of close-minded person that allows racism and other oppression to roam free, and at times even contribute to it, that I try to fight against. 

Why Sera is Horrible LGBTA+ Representation

As I said on the confessions, Sera should not be considered good representation of a lesbian relationship. Why? Because she’s childish and manipulative and close minded.

That really should be enough, but let me go into explicit detail.

On the childishness of Sera, let’s talk about her prank pulling. I will say this, her prank pulling and hatred of the extreme magical bullshit going on was refreshing. It was so nice to see a character who was just an every day person getting caught up in things far beyond the natural world. Even more nice to see a gut busting girl who didn’t care what others thought of her and was solely herself and enjoyed bringing stuffy folk down to a more human level. The problem with this however? It plays into her utter denial of the elven gods and culture and to things outside of the “norm”- such as Cole. It plays into her prank pulling actually being cruel at times because of her lack of awareness for the suffering of others.

When she spoke to Cole, she referred to him as a ‘thing’. She never considered the possibility that someone so different from herself deserves recognition as a person- and that’s a shitty fucking thing to do. Cole may not have started out human, but he tried so hard to be kind and to help others, she, as somebody who was not normal herself and had faced dehumanizing treatment, should have known better. After Cole had proven time and time again that he did not deserve the awful treatment, she never changed from that hateful dismissing stance about him. (not that I saw anyway) 

(Note; I also realize that Vivienne and Blackwall were not the nicest to Cole either, but I could write a ten page book on why Vivienne is a boss anyway because, at least, she avoided Cole and had some fucking class. Blackwall I just despise in general and I will always hate that creep)

When she pulled her pranks, she never considered the potential harm they could do. For example, making Cullen’s desk wobble? Amusing, definitely, had Cullen been a normal man. But Cullen is a recovering drug addict and a survivor of some rather extreme trauma, it’s obvious he suffers from severe PTSD. I’m positive that any “controlling” behavior he had towards his own personal desk space did stem from a need to control his surroundings after the terrible events he suffered. Her making the desk wobble could potentially cause a minor break for Cullen if it was a bad day for him. But she doesn’t take that into consideration, she only blows off Cullen as “too uptight” without seeming to understand. Like, there’s plenty of pranks you can pull on somebody that won’t have a negative effect on them. And what about the water bucket on Josie? Granted meeting with nobles is boring and annoying, but the Inquisition NEEDED their support. The Inquisition needed important allies so that they wouldn’t be attacked or turned against. She could have turned away potential allies just because she wanted to humiliate Josie. And Josie didn’t even deserve that! Josie (and Cullen!) worked so hard to keep the Inquisition from going under so that they could save the world. I didn’t see Sera consider these consequences and that bothers me to no end. Pranks are fun, but there is a time and place for the, and a way to do them. Sera didn’t do any of that. (She also put lizards in Solas bedroll- what if one bit him and it was poisonous? Would she have cared?)

And! She doesn’t take her relationship with the Inquisitor seriously at all at first! She writes off the Inquisitor’s interest and says she only wants fun. Somebody who’s only looking for a fling and basically says they do not want to have a relationship with you is not somebody who is ready for a relationship. Especially since later she basically tells the Inquisitor that they do have a relationship and that the Inquisitor can either choose to keep Sera by saying her entire culture is a lie, or lose Sera. What a terrible thing to ask somebody to do. 

If someone who was barely a christian demanded that I give up my gods just because they didn’t believe in them, I would tell them to take a fucking hike off a cliff. A god you don’t even really believe is not more important than the gods I have devoted myself to. What you want and you believe should not matter more than what I want and believe. If you cannot respect my beliefs, then I have no respect for you and you clearly do not love me enough if you cannot respect my love for them. And, if you ask me to give up my gods for you, then what else will you ask of me? What else will I have to lose to satisfy you? This is the logic I apply to any and all relationships.

Again, while this makes for an interesting story and dynamic between the inquisitor and Sera- what does love mean between the two of them. In my rather hefty experience in the dating world, it sets up a platform for abuse and manipulation.

So let’s review; Sera doesn’t consider the consequences of her actions in relation to the thoughts, feelings, and needs of those she says she loves. Is that somebody we really want representing lesbians? As a (genderfluid/demi) girl who wants a relationship with a woman, Sera is not someone I want people to look at and think ‘oh, so that’s what women who like women are like’.

Especially when compared to literally ANY of the other women available for a lesbian romance. Or are they simple not up for considering because they’re bi in many cases? Are bi women who love women somehow less important to you? Think on that before you consider Sera as a good representation of a gay relationship please and thank you.

Character Critique VS Sexism

And now onto the main point you are so backwardly trying to be clever about.

When it comes right down to it, you can dislike a female character without it being sexist. For example, I dislike Sera, as a person, because, again, I find her childish, arrogant, and borderline abusive.

The reason such characters like Sera are generally unpopular does have a lot to do with sexism I will not deny that. And it has to do with having so few genuinely interesting female characters, that many will take whatever they can get. But not enough of them will. Many are still stuck in how wonderful and amazing the male characters are, that many females characters fall to the wayside. Sera is no exception. Because she is not an attractive male that they can ship with another attractive male, Sera is simply not going to have as many supporters as say, Dorian (whom I have an entire rant on why he’s good gay representation, but also cliched). That means they are going to be more critical of her flaws and failings, without taking into account why she is such a good character because sexism in the offline reality is so critical of women in the first place.

Sweeping statements of Sera being annoying “like all women” or writing her off as only childish without understanding her own problems with accepting herself because of her foster mother’s abuse, is sexist. I am capable of feeling sorry for Sera and wanting the best for her, while also understanding that she is not the only representation of all lesbians. Not everyone is capable of doing that yet. People, especially men, brain washed women, and younger folk, simply do not have the tools at their disposal (nor want them) to understand that Sera is simply one kind of woman and should be thought about more deeply.

And that doesn’t take into account how Sera is not a dynamic character. She just barely changes throughout the story line. She (along with others, and I have some major words to share with Bioware about the lack of character growth in their stories) remains the same childish, mildly manipulative, arrogant, brain washed racist and does learn any lessons from her time with the Inquisition. Her character, and her story line, I chalk up to male writers just, being honestly not very good writing female characters in general. She could have been an amazing character, a really amazing person, but all in all I feel she just falls flat on the things that truly matter to me as a person.

I could go on, but I would be repeating myself on this particular section.

So, TLDR; Your reach is not clever. If you had bothered to actually read my post you would have seen that I brought up legitimate points of criticism of Sera’s character- such as her deep set racism born of self loathing and brain washing, her manipulative and childish behavior and her lack of change through the story line. I’m not impressed by your salty attempt to make me look bad because you don’t like what I had to say about Sera.