#also wealth hoarding is bad don’t come for me please

[mossymountain]

If y’all were grotesquely wealthy, what kind of stuff would you collect?

For me it’s art, pairs of glasses, weird kitschy handbags, and buttons/enamel pins.

[scarlettriot]

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

[godsporncollection]

So… you’re asks are on so I assume it’s okay to ask for help or advice but if not please just ignore, no worries ^^

I was raised by very Mormon Mormons and had a bit of a mental breakdown yesterday about if or not it was okay to say I was traumatized or had been in a cult. I know it’s fucked up but those are some pretty heavy labels to use and I don’t want to intrude or trample.

I’m not asking you to diagnose me cause that’s a fucked up to put on a stranger and don’t think anyone but a therapist/psychologist and myself can figure out if I’m traumatized. (I know other people have been traumatized by but my experience hasnt been horrifying so much as misleading and addictive, thinking praying healed my illness but I still get to watch not-gospel approved things and go to medical doctors and therapists and stuff. It’s not affected my life much beyond not smoking or drinking which i wouldnt do anyway for medical reasons.)

Basically, is the lds church a cult or is it just regular religion pain? Sorry for the rambles, I’ve never talked about this before and have zero basis for where I am vs where other ex-members are.

I love getting asks! I'm not often good at giving advice - mostly because my experience of leaving was 15 years ago and predates my queer identity, which means I really don't know what most of the kids leaving the church these days, especially those on tumblr since most of them appear to be queer, are going through - but I'll usually encourage my followers to suggest stuff if I don't feel like my answers are adequate.

Short answer

The word 'cult' has a fairly simple and neutral definition, but you're likely asking me if I think the church is a dangerous organization. I really, really do.

Long answer

I think that the fact that you've had a breakdown over this question is something that could help you find the answer for yourself. Obviously our gut feelings aren't always right, but you clearly feel something is wrong with the church. If it weren't a cult, or at least a big bad organization, do you think they would do so many things that make people suspicious of it? I know we were taught that those feelings come from satan, but I feel it's nothing more than a mechanism of control.

So, what is a cult? The word 'cult' actually has a pretty innocuous definition. Merriam-Webster has a few, the most relevant being:

"a religion regarded as unorthodox or spurious."

"great devotion to a person, idea, object, movement, or work (such as a film or book)."

"a system of religious beliefs and ritual."

I'm sure there are many innocent organizations that qualify as cults with those definitions, but most people ascribe negative connotations to the word. Wikipedia touches on this, saying, "This sense of the term is controversial, having divergent definitions both in popular culture and academia, and has also been an ongoing source of contention among scholars across several fields of study."

When people say that the lds church is a cult - and many people agree that it is - they mean that the church is a harmful, controlling, and manipulative organization. That is the definition I intend when I use the term.

Now, how do we identify a cult? There isn't an official test, but we do have the BITE Model (Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control). The BITE Model is a list of recruitment and control tactics compiled from research done by psychologists and psychiatrists in the fields of mind control, brainwashing, indoctrination, organizational culture, and cognitive dissonance. It's generally accepted that if your organization meets most of the criteria listed in the BITE Model, it's a cult.

Many of the points within the BITE Model regard personal experience, and personal bias can influence your interpretation. Those who are within the mormon church may only consider the worst possible interpretation of each of the BITE Model points, and neglect to fully appreciate how to apply them to the actions of seemingly innocent church members. By minimizing the responsibility of church members, and the church at large, they invalidate the damage done not only to others, but to themselves.

I haven't written out my own assessment of how the BITE Model applies to mormonism, but John Dehlin, a prominent exmo, has shared his. Dehlin colored the bullet points in the following ways:

Green: “I don’t think the Mormon church does this in modern times.”

Orange: “I see this happening sometimes in the Mormon church (like on Missions), but not as a general rule .”

Red: “This occurs regularly within the Mormon Church.”

Having it 'easy' can make it difficult for us to realize just how insidious certain acts and doctrines of the church can be; it really makes us doubt ourselves and think we're just overreacting. But whether or not the church's teachings were used to abuse you, classifying mormonsim as a cult is pretty straightforward: it is. It alienates it's members, harms those who try to escape, and offensively bewilders those who come across it. It's missionaries and leaders are charismatic and dangerous. It hoards wealth, paying the leadership very well, while still demanding that 10% from it's poorest members. It preys on our weak moments, dangling the carrot of eternal peace if only we suffer and give enough, only to leave us tired and in pain.

No one else can give you permission to feel what you feel. That's something that belongs to you, and your trauma is legitimate.

[simphellscape]

a conversation about tsukasa shishio and his perception of greed

in which i word vomit about why, while i really love tsukasa and his desire for a better world, i think he's setting his sights impossibly high.

so, i'll start this by saying that tsukasa is one of my favorite characters in dr. stone. he might even be one of my favorite anime characters period. he's compelling, he's incredibly smart, and he's got a good heart. i really think that, even though he's slated as the antagonist for the better part of the show thus far, he's just doing the wrong things for the right reasons.

i rewatched the first few episodes of the series with some friends, and after hearing tsukasa's spiel on greed, it sparked an interesting conversation on the concept of greed: how it forms, how it grows, etc. my roommate and i have talked about tsukasa's character a lot, and while we both love him, we disagree on the practicality of his goals.

i am all for the upheaval of modern capitalism because this shit sucks and is not working for anyone except for the elite, but it just won't solve the issue of greed, because greed existed before capitalism ever did. tsukasa's distaste for a capitalist society is amazing and inspiring, but i think his aspirations for the new world are unrealistic.

my roomie has said over and over again that tsukasa hit the nail right on the head about the fact that modern society breeds greed. i agree wholeheartedly, however, i think that both my roommate and tsukasa forget that greed has existed in all phases of society. it is an integral part of the human condition. greed has persevered, and will persevere, for all of time.

i also agree that we most commonly see greed manifest over time in an individual's life. as people grow older, greed tends to fester. but, while greed is a lot of things, it is not discriminatory. everyone, no matter how old they are, is subject to its grasp.

my roommate also made the point that the absence of capitalism in tsukasa's perfect world would subdue greed. again, i agree. but, greed would still be there. while there wouldn't be any greed surrounding a singular currency, like we see in the world today, i think that people would still find things to hoard. wealth comes in many forms, and in the stone world, it comes in the form of food, clothing, land, alliances, weaponry, etc. greediness being broken up into multiple avenues like that might make it a bit easier to control from tsukasa's perspective, but it's still around.

and what happens when the people in his society grow older? tsukasa's disdain for greed is assigned to the adults of the modern world. who's to say that the adults in his world won't become just like them? who's to say that, once tsukasa reaches adulthood, he won't become just like them? unlearning a pattern of behavior such a greed is a long, difficult progress. one thing that we all agreed on in our conversation earlier is that greedy behaviors are definitely generational, at least in part. the people in the stone world will eventually become parents, and then their kids will become parents, and so on. to eliminate greed entirely, it will likely take centuries to completely do so. even then, that's iffy. like i said before, i think greed is integrated into the human disposition. there are entire cultural sects that condemn any expressions of greed, going back centuries. i'm mainly talking about religion here. i'm from the southern united states, so the one that immediately comes to mind here is christianity due to the demographics of my area. the bible explicitly forbids the expression of greed many times over. if one of the most dominant religious groups, with teachings directly concerning the erasure of greed from society that is millenniums old, hasn't done it as of yet... how can tsukasa expect to do it at all, with his actions alone?

in essence, i think that tsukasa is placing boundaries on greed that simply aren't there. young people aren't immune to it. inherently good people aren't immune to it. even tsukasa himself isn't immune to it. greed is powerful. greed is infectious. greed is innate. and, no matter how much he wants to, tsukasa can't stop it from corrupting his ideal society.

_________________________________________

i didn't mean for this to turn into a fucking essay, but here we are ig. i know that this point of view sounds kind of pessimistic, but i don't want to sugarcoat anything. also, don't know if you could tell from this rant, but i studied psychology in college before i dropped out lmao

if you disagree PLEASE TELL ME I WANT TO DISCUSS THIS SO BAD

[fandom-sheep]

Fundy 21 APR 21

OSMP Dr*g Lab Part 1/1

The boy is doing disasters!

And now he’s got his new computer! Hooray!

Let’s see if the stream functions. I doubt it but it’ll be funny.

I’m typing this and attempting to fill out digital paper work for my college. Let’s see how this goes.

Hooray cat! We love Boots. Look at that pretty kitty laying on her pillow! I need to do more art for Boots. I’ve done some in the past.

Fundy gets to annoy people with his appearance. Everyone in chat shouting no. I think it’d be funny.

I don’t want to do my work. I just want to watch the chaotic fox boy.

We’ve hit problem two. Woo.

The people demand an Ad.

Oh we get facecam! Oh never mind he’s stuck again.

Ah yes. The temporary facecam.

My stream quality is going to drop just cause it can. I’m calling it.

Poor Fundy wants his mic not to cut out, but its become a thing and we all love it. “Twitch Pr”

He’s trying to break the mic for us. LOL.

Oh things sound Funky.

Echo, echo, echo

Oh no. My poor head.

He’s just laughing at us now.

He’s wondering how he didn’t lose all his viewers, we’re loyal, sadly.

Fox with his lovely base. It always looks so cool.

Ah we’ve been abandoned.

Bless your soulza

Yuck. Normal Minecraft. Yuck Spiders.

Dodge those skeleton shots! Do it!

Enslave Berry Foxes!

He has become a slow airplane.

Posture check. I am laying on my back I have no posture.

The boy eats the valued things.

I almost want to dual wield streams and watch Phil’s reactions to all this, but also not seeing the reactions is funny.

Puns. I love them. RUN FOX RUN!

Fundy Just causing problems on purpose. We love our chaos boy.

Ha ha. Karma.

Fox go YOINK.

Boots? Pet the cat. I wish we could see the cat. Boots is being banished downstairs.

Aww. He’s trying to be helpful. but the zombies just going to burn. Oh he realized before he burned the zombie. Good.

What is crow father doing? Just kelping? Is Phil just ignoring him?

Oh Phil just watching Fundy save the slab.

And giving him a reward. I am seeing parallels between this and what I do with troublesome campers.

I wonder how the crows have been reacting to Fundy being a problem on purpose?

Wealth goes in the mouth.

Sadness. Zombie friend despawned.

I love how Fundy can go from “I am tough” to “I am weak” to “I am tough” its always funny to me.

Something happened with sticky keys but I’m not sure because I was making a hot pocket.

Not crash is typically a goal of driving.

no reusing jokes. Boo someone throw a tomato.

“R” well alright then.

Don’t put wealth in the mouth. Got it.

Chat goes zoom? He’s oh noing.

“I don’t have a phone” as you text on your phone.

Wat. Some donos make negative amounts of sense.

I’d listen to him play that in the background while I work.

Look at the crowfather making his achievements.

Why would a fox have gold nuggets?

Foxes will look at Fundy and go “ah big fox. He is our leader now”

Ooo another video? A game show?

Don’t mind me. Just nearly drowning drinking water because a skeleton dropped on the small fox.

Humans designed bananas. Natural bananas are tiny and seedy. I know, Ive tried one. It was nasty.

Are star fruit rounded?

Foxes are dogs with a cat attitude. Who steal. The thief animals.

Digsirton. Dogson. Dogust. III. What an interesting name.

He was a fox. Because.

Fundy in the ring.

BRB gotta go cover plants so they don’t die during the cold snap.

Plants have been covered.

I know you guys attempted to surf the void and failed and that’s about it.

Now the Fox is chatting with the inchling.

Oops. Didn’t time it right.

He is a spring.

How does everyone have so many diamond things.

Nice. Enderman one shot.

Guilt free trident.

Woosh! With a trident the fox can fly!

And he didn’t thief it. Proud of him.

I love how close everyone stayed near spawn.

Poor lil fox.

Someone get the fox a trident!

Oh Phil’s view was probably great.

We’re looking scuffed again.

Phil witnessing the murder of 1 (one) fox.

Sneeg is a bullet.

Poor Fundy wants to become stacked, but he doesn’t hunt for anything.

Ah the bee. And there he goes.

Secret chest. Lovely.

Storage Unit Fox. Infinite mouth.

Sizzle Fox

Sneeg and Fundy work well together.

I’m betting on “no” for his next death being burning. Someone’s going to stab em or something.

Rats. Oh well. It was just 10 points

Quality entertainment.

Up he goes. He made it! Mitsakes are made (error intended)

Fundy one shotting everything is so great.

Aren’t ghast sounds cat sounds made weird? Or is that just something I heard once?

I’m voting no again. I’ll probably be wrong but again it’s 10 channel points.

No sizzle fox please. He will, but I’m saying no.

He one shot the ghast, but he did sizzle.

All this fox knows is sizzle. Ooo that give me an art idea.

Oh no he’s going to feel bad about the people who donated multiple times when it was paused.

Hi 5up.

Wow calling his “lover” short. How rude. Lol.

Du du du du

The tortles were released. Poor Niki.

I hate the mouth sound effect so much.

Training Arc with the pounce.

I hoard channel points like some people hoard money.

Oopsy.

Because he coldn’t help it? Poor boy.

I’m not involved in the prediction but these people have no hope in our boy.

Bee boy!

Oopsy. He is dead. The predictors were correct.

Bye bee boy.

Bee boy is back!

Ender boy is here! It’s a party now!

Fox just wants a skull.

Also yeah chat no spamming VC. Have good etiquette. We don’t do that’s here.

Prediction once again was right to not believe in the fox.

Drug corner looking nice. We can officially drugs now!

Oh no. He said chat. He does that when he’s ending.

Ah we are ending. That was productive.

Shaders! Gorgeous!

Oh it’s night. I never know if it’s night or not with the fox.

A pretty fox hole.

Phil over there Fox proofing his house.

Ah were attacking Phil. Nice.

The Fundy raid is here!

Tubbo! Really? Oh well. At least there is the mouth.

Anyway. I’m off. Good luck out there everyone!

I’m back to say that Fundy attempting to jump and get Tubbo was great.

Come on Fundy! Get him!

Ah. There goes the low heart boy.

Ah and the bullet appears.

I’m going to chill until Fundy gets Tubbo.

“C’mere” -Fundy

We’re used to watching our streamer get murdered Phil. This happens a lot.

Oooooooooo

He did it!

Go Fundy! Put the Wealth in the Mouth!

Oh no. Tubbo hired the bullet.

The bullet strikes again.

Oh he mouthed the zombie head.

Proud of our streamer.

No Fundy. Quit making problems.

Bees and foxes. Natural enemies.

Oh others can always hear the fox.

Anyway. That settles that. I’m heading off for real.

[stones-x-bones]

It’s Only Blood (Night 1 Cont.) || Mina and Bex

TIMING: Current (continuation of this) PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween SUMMARY: The eye of the storm. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, References to child abuse 

For a moment, Mina allowed her nails to change again, growing sharp and dangerous. She’d never been taught to use them as weapons, but they’d honestly served her better than any knife. They’d ripped the head off of a harpy well enough. “I make a piss poor sword,” she said, lightly. She hadn’t been a good weapon, too anxious, too afraid, too cautious. But she’d put her body in between enough people and danger to know that she made a damn good shield. As much as she could, anyway. She made the claws go away, the effort not as bad as it had been before. “I hate them for hurting you, and I hate them for making you go back to them,” she murmured. Not even for herself. She couldn’t care less about herself. But anywhere was better for Bex than being with her parents. She’d prefer her to stay with the Youtuber, Eddie. Anyone but her parents. Mina tasted blood at Bex’s words. She’d bitten into the inside of her cheeks. “I--” Of course she loved Bex. It was a fact of life. Pi was infinite, music sounded best when it was played by someone who was passionate about it, and Mina loved Bex. And Bex loved Mina because it didn’t matter if Bex could lie. She wouldn’t lie to Mina. Not about this. Not about something that hurt so much. “I love you, too. So much. It’s like a hole in me. But I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t get rid of-- If I could make it easier for you, I would. I will. Please tell me how. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave town if you want. I won’t come back. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean selfish that way,” Bex said. They weren’t selfish because they wanted more for themselves, or because they wanted to keep things for themselves. They weren’t selfish in the way small children who refused to share were, or old businessmen who hoarded their wealth were. They were selfish because they chose their fear over everyone else. They were selfish because they hid themselves away, afraid that any gentle touch or voice was just a lie. Bex turned her head to look over at Mina on the couch. Thunder shook the cabin and lightning momentarily lit up the inside. Bex used to be afraid of thunderstorms, as a child. But the one time she’d tried to find comfort in her parents, she’d learned the lesson quick that she was alone in life, that she had to deal with her fears alone, and that’s when her closet, and the shoes on the floor, and the small hidden space behind the shelf, had become her sanctuary. Fear had always meant safety. “You’re not greedy or mean or anything like that. I just mean...you’d rather hide than let someone in. Or run, then let someone hold you. It’s the kind of selfish that keeps you safe. The kind of selfish that comes with being afraid of so much. We hide and we keep ourselves to ourself because it’s easier and it’s familiar...and it’s selfish.” 

Bex looked out the window and squinted into the dark, wondering if she might see Frank’s shadowed form waiting for them just outside. But all there was were trees and rain and dark. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, “I’ve been afraid for so long. I don’t even know what life would be like without. I thought leaving them would make me less scared, but it didn’t. I thought going home would make all of this stop happening, but it didn’t. I don’t know what to do anymore. All my life all I wanted was the chance to make my own choices and now I’ve made all the wrong ones and I don’t know what to do.”

Her eyes drew down as Mina’s hands turned to webbed claws again. “Swords aren’t the only tools,” she said back quietly. She turned herself so that her shoulder was against the couch and she could look at Mina more fully, before she slipped her hand out from under the blanket and prodded at Mina’s fingers, still clawed. They turned back to her human looking ones and Bex turned her hand palm up to let Mina’s fingers rest there. She hated her parents, too, she realized. As desperately as she wanted her mother’s love, she hated her for it. She hated how much she ached for just one iota of love from her. Just one real moment where her mother would look at her and see her and love her. It would never happen, but still Bex wished for it. She hated Mina’s dad for making her feel the same. She knew Mina felt the same. The lengths they would go to to convince themselves of a parents’ poisoned love was too big. “Please don’t leave,” was all she said, and she blinked as a tear fell from her chin. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Is that not self preservation as opposed to selfishness?” Mina asked. Maybe there wasn’t a difference. Maybe it was selfish to want to guard one’s heart, one’s mind. Mina didn’t know. It did feel selfish, sometimes, when she knew that Morgan needed her but she just couldn’t make herself go home. “Sometimes it’s just-- it just seems like it’s for the best, to run or leave or take care of myself. I don’t want to bother other people.” And she didn’t. Her whole life, Mina was taught to not be a burden. She walked on broken bones, she found her own shelter, she taught herself. If she needed something, she figured out a way to get it for herself, and if she wanted something… she figured out just how desperately she wanted it, if it was worth it. And it hadn’t always been hard; she’d been given nice things, but she knew to provide for herself first if she wanted to be provided for. That’s just how life was. “I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I wish I could help you. I would, if I could.” If you’d let me.

“I know they’re not. There’s also knives and crossbows and guns and…” she trailed off, and she’d almost been joking, but not really. She wasn’t raised to be a tool. She was raised to be a weapon. Whatever Bex’s parents had wanted her to become, whatever tool they were attempting to shape her into, it probably wasn’t a weapon. She put her trembling hand in Bex’s palm and, before she could think about it too much, she let the webbing reform between her fingers, even if she kept the claws away. She felt exposed in ways that she hadn’t, even though there were plenty of people that had seen this. But it was Bex, and she wanted to prove that she trusted her. She didn’t think that Bex would shy away, not in the way that Mina would have shied away from herself. “I won’t leave unless you tell me to. I won’t. You’d-- You’d have to give me a few days, regardless. I don’t think I’ll be traveling in the immediate future.”

“I don’t know the difference,” Bex admitted. And truly, she didn’t. Her parents called her selfish for wanting something more. They called her cruel for not giving them what they wanted. They told her she was selfish because she couldn’t be the way they wanted her to be. She’d believed them, she still did. She’d started to wonder, to change, but she still believed them. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” She was still angry, but her weary body had stopped gathering up enough energy to be that way. She laid her head on the side of the couch. Mina still needed to be stitched up, she needed to check the pots outside, and go down to the boathouse to check for buckets before it stopped raining. She should check the level of the basin outside, maybe there was enough to fill the tub halfway. Mina could soak and they could try again in a bit. There was still so much to do, she had to keep going. But her body wouldn’t let her move. She closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re not a bother, Mina,” she said absently, “I can’t think of one situation where you were ever bothering anyone. Morgan agrees, I think even Deirdre would agree. And Rio, he likes you, too. He said you’re a good person and a good fighter. And Nell. She likes you. You guys both really like knives, too. I think Nell likes talking to you.” The words were partially slurred and Bex remembered the bottle next to the couch. She wondered what it might be. “Even Adam seems to like you. You’re not a bother.” But being taught to be small and not a burden or a bother was just another thing Bex understood too well, too.

“People,” Bex added on to Mina’s list. Money, wealth, power. Influence. They were on opposite sides again. Where Mina was raised with metal and blood, Bex was raised with smoke and shadow. “Whatever you did while with your dad was never your fault,” she mumbled absently. She opened her eyes when she felt Mina’s hand shift again. “You just wanted him to love you. You’d do anything if he just told you he loved you.” Why were parents so cruel? She smothered Mina’s hand with her own and ran her fingers along the silvery scales on the back of her hands. “I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t drag your unconscious body miles through the forest in the rain just so you could leave.” She scooted a little closer, close enough to bring Mina’s hands up to her lips. Her skin was cool. “I want to stay with you.” She said, barely audible. The fire crackled, the rain poured, but her voice could still be heard. She wanted to stay, but they weren’t people who got things they wanted.

“I don’t either,” Mina said. Perhaps the difference had been that Bex had been taught to believe in selfishness whereas Mina had only known self preservation. She only knew how to take care of herself. She didn’t know how to lean on other people. Even in the field, she’d still had to watch her own back. It was nice being in White Crest because she didn’t have to perpetually be on guard, but old habits didn’t go gently; even with Adam in the portal, even with her plans to make sure he got out no matter what, there’d been a part of her that still didn’t know if he would have her back the way she had his. She picked at the hole she’d made in the couch, unsure of what to say. She felt like a burden, just like she didn’t feel like a person. It wasn’t about anyone else, not really. It was about her and how she saw herself, and maybe it was wrong, and maybe she was wrong, but that didn’t change anything. She could be told that all day long and there would always be a part of her that still wouldn’t believe it. Instead of commenting on it, she said, “You need rest.” She could probably make room on the couch for both of them. Bex was injured, too, and Mina didn’t forget about that. Falling asleep on the floor wasn’t going to do her any favors. 

“People,” Mina echoed. People could be tools, too. She could be a person. She was a person. She reminded herself of it again and again until it almost felt real. “I don’t think that’s true. I still did it. I’m still accountable. I wasn’t always a child. I was never really a child.” She knew what she was doing, even if she hadn’t. She’d always felt that it was wrong. She should have known that it was wrong. “He could have changed.” She was just repeating what she’d said in her dream, what she told herself all the time. “He wasn’t given a chance.” And how could he have been, when his upbringing had probably been something similar to her own? He didn’t talk about the way he was raised, but Mina could only assume. “Then I won’t leave.” She flinched a bit, though. “I tried to stay awake. I just-- I couldn’t, and I couldn’t hear what you were saying even though I know you were talking. But I did try.” She wished she’d been able to try harder. “That’s good. I don’t-- I don’t want you trying to get out in this.” And, more importantly, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Then, maybe, there wasn’t a difference. Bex didn’t know. Mina didn’t either. She wished she could ask Morgan. She wished there was someone else here, helping. They’d know what to do. Bex didn’t know what to do and she was so tired and Mina was ignoring her again. Ignoring some of the things she was saying. She furrowed her brow. She couldn’t make Mina understand that anymore than someone could make her. In the end, it had to be them to make the decision to feel that way. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Bex understood what conditioning was, she’d read about it so much. She knew it’s what her own parents had done. So of course it’s what Mina’s father had done to her. Maybe worse. Mina thought she was nothing more than a killing machine, something made to destroy. She wished she could show Mina that she could heal, too. That she could create. That she had life in her touch. Bex drew in a breath. “I’m fine,” she said, “I slept a little earlier. There’s still things to do. And the fire--” she turned to look back over at it, and it was dwindling, its heat disappearing before she could feel it. “The fire needs tending. And I can’t sleep if-- in case he comes back.” She wouldn’t let him just come trudging in here and kill them both.

“You were a child,” Bex said, a bit harshly. She had been a child, too. “Whether or not you actually got to be one, you were a child.” It didn’t matter how many times Mina tried to excuse him, she would never let her get away with thinking what he’d done was okay. If what her parents was doing wasn’t okay, then nothing Mina’s father had done was, either. It was worse. He had taken a child and made her hate herself and her species and made her feel less than a person and used her to kill other people. So much so Mina thought it was her own fault. “I’d never put that on you. I don’t think any of that was on you.” But what did she know? She wasn’t really a part of this world. She wasn’t a part of Mina’s world. “He doesn’t deserve a chance.” She said darkly. Her parents didn’t deserve a chance, either, but she was giving them one, wasn’t she? She was a hypocrite, but she knew that already. She moved her hand from Mina’s and pushed herself up with a great effort. There were things to do. Maybe she could find a real bed for Mina. She looked down at her, eyes soft. “I’m not leaving you.” Not right now, at least. “It’s okay, Mina. You were--” dying, so close to dying. She had practically been dead in her arms and Bex couldn’t forget what it looked like. “It’s okay now.” 

“You’re not fine.” Mina frowned, looking Bex over. “You’re only doing marginally better than I am, actually.” She sighed. “If you get any water, save what you boil and clean for yourself. The only water that’s harmful to me is saltwater. My body could use a puddle to heal, at this point.” And she didn’t want to say that she’d done that before, years ago when she’d had a cut on the bottom of her foot and hadn’t been able to find water for kilometers in any direction. “You need to drink more than,” she glanced at the bottle, the strong scent of alcohol reaching her even from a distance, “that.” She looked at the door, almost expecting Frank to be conjured into existence, but he didn’t show. She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming back tonight. He expected me to die, when he left. If he comes back, it won’t be until tomorrow to retrieve my body. Now that he knows what I am, he might even wait longer if he thinks that the rain will keep me alive.” He didn’t expect anyone to come for her, and he’d wanted her to suffer. That’s why he’d taken the knife out. He hadn’t wanted the iron to kill her; he’d wanted her to bleed out. But she hadn’t, and he’d made a mistake, not watching her die. Mina was going to kill him. She was going to kill him.

“I was… It doesn’t matter, not anymore.” But Mina didn’t think that children were brought up to think the way she had. She didn’t think she’d ever been a child. She didn’t know if she would have been a child even without her dad. Her mother might have made her into something much, much worse. “I still… I think about it all, a lot. Morgan asked me, once, how the hunters I grew up with would have treated her, and… they’d have tried to kill her. They wouldn’t have hesitated. I did because I knew her before. I did because I’ve never been able to kill anyone.” And that made her weak, so weak, but she couldn’t regret it. She couldn’t. Not if it meant that she got to know Bex. Not if it meant that Bex didn’t see her as a monster. She remembered the relief, from her dream, when the blood had faded away and Bex seemed to realize that none of it was real. Mina didn’t know what Bex would think of her if she’d actually killed someone with her own hands. (The little voice in her head reminded her that she was going to kill Frank. She was going to. She was going to. If he walked in right then, she’d have given it her damnedest, regardless of her injuries.) She looked down, and maybe she understood why Bex hated her dad so much. Maybe they were both destined to hate each other’s parents. “He-- He’s dead now. It doesn’t matter.” She reached for Bex’s hand even as she stood up and pulled away, and she couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice as she just said, “Bex, please.” 

“I’m doing much better than you, actually,” Bex pointed out. But only because Mina had been nearly dead, so close to dead, so close to dying. Bex hadn’t actually made it in time. If it hadn’t rained, Mina would have died. Bex choked on the thought. “Don’t. Don’t-- stop. Please don’t talk about him, I can’t-- I don’t want to--” think about him, talk about him, anything about him. Even if her mind still tried to bring him back to the forefront every time she glanced at the door, she needed to not think about him. About what he’d done to her, about how close he’d come to killing Mina. About what he might do next. She swallowed. “I just want to-- focus on you. On getting you better.” She gave a little laugh, and it didn’t sound or feel as hollow somehow. “There’s a boat out front full of water. I used it to drag you up to the house with all the supplies.” She was reminded of the pots again, and she went to move, but her body gave out and she stumbled to her knees, shaking. She didn’t want to think about Mina dying anymore, she didn’t want to think about Frank trying to kill her. She didn’t want to think about it all being her fault. She wanted to go back to yelling. Or maybe just talking. Or maybe she could get away with just sitting with Mina in silence. Or maybe drinking. Her eyes went back to the bottle. “I need to go get more water.”

She lifted her gaze to look at Mina again. “It does matter,” she said, “but..we can not talk about it anymore.” She didn’t really want to talk about any of it anymore. She didn’t know how she’d feel in the morning, but maybe things would sort themselves out. There was still so much to talk about. She had to keep going. She lifted herself back up. “Not killing someone doesn’t make you weak. I think, in the face of what you were made to be and how you were treated-- I think that makes you stronger.” It certainly made her a better person. Not that Bex would have thought less of Mina had she killed as a child. It wasn’t her fault. She was a child who had been tainted. She moved away from her but stopped, chewing on her lip. “I’ll just-- I'll be right back. I pro--” she paused. It was such a simple thing to promise, but it made her tongue taste sour. “I’ll be right back.” And she pushed out the front door again. She left it open so Mina could watch her, shaking with such an exhausted tremor, water spilled over the edges of the pot. She made it close enough to the fire before collapsing, setting the pot inside it before throwing another log on. “I can see if there’s enough water in the basin to fill the bath, if you need.” She turned to look back towards Mina. She looked so tired. “We still need to stitch your side up.” She prodded her own side. “And...maybe mine.” Definitely hers too.

“Much better is a stretch. Though, to be fair, I’m only doing marginally better than a corpse,” Mina said, and she flinched a bit. “I’m sorry. That was morbid. And I don’t particularly want to talk about it, either, but I’ve lost a lot of the control over what I say, recently. I-- I lied, too much, and now I have a hard time shutting up. But we don’t have to talk about that. We can talk about anything else.” Whatever Bex wanted to. Mina was willing to do whatever. “You… dragged me up here in a boat? I-- Wasn’t that heavy? How? Where did the boat come from?” She looked around them again, still trying to figure out where they were. The house was small, smaller than her own near the lake, and dingy with disuse. She couldn’t help but feel impressed that Bex had managed to drag both her and a boat up to it, as well as getting Mina inside and on the couch. She reached out when Bex buckled in on herself, but Mina was useless. “Bex!” She worried the inside of her cheek with her teeth, trying to figure out what to do. “You’re exhausted. Please, just-- You need to rest, too. You’ll be no good to either of us if you pass out.”

Mina took a breath and looked away. “Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It didn’t matter. She didn’t think that it mattered. It had happened. There was no getting that time back. There would never be any sort of reclaiming of childhood, no rediscovery of her inner kid. Such things didn’t happen; such things didn’t exist. “It-- I’m glad I didn’t. Kill anyone. I’m glad. But it would have made things easier. I would have had an easier time when I was younger if I’d proven myself more.” She might have gotten nicer things, more rewards for doing her duty. Of course, there would have also been satisfaction in herself over the fact that she’d done what she was trained to, that she’d been good. She would have been more than a monster; she would have been a monster that slayed other monsters. She watched Bex go. “Just-- please be careful.” She didn’t care that Bex wasn’t going far. She just wanted her to be careful. There was nothing she wanted more than to help Bex, and she was so frustrated at how useless she felt. She was tired and in pain and useless, and she almost wished she had that jar of pain reliever that Nell had given her when she cracked her ribs. The thought of resting in a bathtub sounded lovely. “I’m fine with whatever. I probably just need to soak my leg and my side. After the stitches.” She sighed, knowing that Bex wasn’t going to let her do them herself. “I can help with yours if you’d like, after we do mine.”

Bex winced at the analogy. “You’re not a corpse,” she said in a low voice. She’d made it in time and Mina wasn’t dead which meant Mina wasn’t a corpse because Bex had made it in time. She’d made it in time and that was all that had mattered. She’d kept going, beyond the point of exhaustion, and something inside of her had pushed her more and further, and she’d made it. Adrenaline and her magic had left her empty, drained from all the things she’d used it for to get here. “There was a boat house, down by the dock. By the-- we’re by a little lake. I don’t know where. There’s no trail signs or anything.” She moved the pot to sit on top of the fire, watching the pot turn red hot from it. “I couldn’t carry you anymore. And I needed to find supplies. I couldn’t carry you and supplies. So I dumped it all in an old, wooden boat-- more like a...canoe, like those wooden boats they let you take out on the lake at the Cryptid Corner-- and dragged it up here by the tie rope. I don’t have a lot of life experience, but I’ve read enough books about what to do when you’re lost in the woods that I knew what to look for, I guess.” She licked her lips and looked back at Mina. “Magic helped, too.” She’d seen Nell use her magic to make herself momentarily stronger, and she’d read the spell on how to do it several times in one of the books. Maybe it was books that had saved her life.

She ignored Mina’s pleas for her to rest. She couldn’t rest yet. She wondered what time it was, but the only clock in the house-- an old analog that looked older than the cabin, even-- wasn’t working. Had probably stopped working long ago. “Don’t thank me,” she murmured, scooting over back towards the couch after she’d gathered up the medical supplies. She didn’t make any comment on how Mina felt about her childhood. She couldn’t understand that decision. She couldn’t understand wanting to add more hurt to the world when it hurt so much already. Even if that’s what a parent wanted, she could never do it. That was the one line she’d always drawn with her parents-- she would do no harm. She didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. She wanted to kill Frank. Blinking, she looked up at Mina on the couch. Her thoughts had made her mind drift for a moment and she needed to concentrate. Her eyes dropped to the bottle next to her foot and she made to grab for it before pausing. She needed to be clear headed for this. Drawing in a breath, she looked up at Mina again. “I’ll fill the tub and hope there’s enough water in the basin to reach your side. The tub is a little small, but it’s better than nothing.” The bathroom was small, too, but there was room between the built-in sink and the tub for Bex to sit or lay. She started unraveling the thread that was already hooked through the needle. There wasn’t much. Her eyes went to Mina’s side, the gash that was hidden underneath old, poorly applied bandages. God, she really was exhausted. They’d have to do this before Bex really did pass out. “Only if there’s enough thread,” she mumbled and reached forward, beginning to pry the bandages gently away from Mina’s side. She shook as she touched her, conscious, for the first time, or her fingers grazing Mina’s skin. It’d been so long since she’d touched her. She bit her cheek and kept going. “I don’t...there’s nothing for the pain,” she said, her voice worried. “This is probably gonna hurt. More.”

“No, I’m not. Because of you. I’m not.” Mina didn’t think she’d ever truly get over this, even after she healed. She’d never get over Bex doing this for her. She’d never really understand it, either. But, then again, wouldn’t she do the same for Bex? Wouldn’t she do more? Wouldn’t she tear cities and walls and people for the girl in front of her? Wasn’t she already planning to kill the boy that put her in this position, even if it wasn’t for herself (especially if it wasn’t for herself)? This was love, and it was painful, but somehow it was what the two of them had, wretched and awful as it was. If Mina could, she’d take it away from Bex. It was hurting her. The last thing Mina ever wanted to do was hurt her. “Well, knowledge is power. I think we’d both be in considerably worse shape if you didn’t know what you know.” And there was something like pride in her voice. Bex had managed to do all of this, on her own, with no prior experience. Sure, magic helped, but magic was an innate part of who Bex was. Of course she’d been able to utilize it to help herself. 

“Sorry,” she said, more of a reflex than anything. She stayed still as Bex checked everything, her fingers trembling as she touched Mina’s skin. She was so close. Mina just wanted to reach out and hold her. That was it. She just wanted to hold her. The featherlight touches were a good confirmation that she was alive, though. That this was real. She’d known it was. Of course she’d known it was. Still. It was nice to be sure. “As long as there are stitches and I can cover my side up with a towel or something, all that matters is that we soak my leg.” She was going to have to reset it in the morning, something she wasn’t looking forward to at all. “It’s definitely going to hurt, yes,” Mina said, unable to sugar coat the situation even if she did keep her voice soothing. “But I’m not going to move while you do it, so it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry about hurting me, and don’t worry about making the stitches pretty; just make them functional. Have you read up on how to do a continuous suture? That’s what you’re going to try and do here.” She looked at the bottle that Bex had been reading for. “And maybe let me have some of that, please.” She wouldn’t drink much, but it might help a little. 

“You wouldn’t have been hurt, either, if it weren’t for me,” Bex mumbled off-hand. This was her fault. In every sense of the word. Frank would have no reason to go after Mina if it weren’t for her. He’d never even have met Mina, probably. And then, when they’d had him, Bex had made Nell let him go. And then, when he was clearly running rampant, stabbing people, she still hadn’t told anyone. This was all her fault. She felt her cheeks growing wet again and she had to stop for a moment, wiping at them. “I should’ve let Nell kill him,” she whispered. Mina would be dead if Bex hadn’t been able to do what she’d done. She hadn’t known she was capable of doing what she’d done, but she had. Some deep desperation inside of her had pushed her to be able to do what she’d done. Still, her mind toyed with what ifs. What if she hadn’t even made it to Mina in time? What if she hadn’t been able to get her out of the trap? What if she hadn’t been able to carry her for so long? What if when she’d fallen down the hill, she’d lost Mina? What if she’d never been able to find water? What if, what if what if? If Bex hadn’t been a part of her life, none of this would have even happened. 

She needed to listen. Mina was explaining how to do the stitches and Bex needed to listen. But it was hard. She was crying-- sobbing, really-- and she couldn’t listen. They didn’t need to be pretty and they didn’t need to be good, they just needed to be there enough to hold Mina together. She looked at the wound in her side and remembered how painful the knife had felt sliding into her own side. How much more painful it had been coming out. How it had torn at her insides. How the doctor’s had looked at the wound in worry, and the mangled muscle, and how Bex was looking at Mina’s now and it was so much worse. Bex felt her heart gurgling in her throat. “I'm so sorry,” she murmured, and she reached out absently for one of Mina’s hands and squeezed it as she buried her face in the side of the couch. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” She needed to keep going, but her body suddenly had other plans. It had stopped moving and it was really all she could do to not let her sobs grow too loud, repeating the apology like a mantra. Like maybe it might make everything magically better. If only, if only.

Mina started shushing Bex gently. “Hush. If not him, I’m sure I would have run into someone else. And a lot sooner, too.” Hers was never supposed to be a long life, not with the way that she was raised. Mina knew that. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago. Her dad hadn’t made it to fifty. She’d always thought that thirty would be her cap. “Something like this would have happened regardless. It’s not your fault. It’s not.” Honestly, if she’d encountered Frank without Bex around, he still would have tried to kill her. He might have not been as vindictive, as vengeful about it, but he would have still gone for her. She was a threat. She was something to be disposed of, and he probably would have gotten rid of her in that alley behind the theater if Bex hadn’t intervened. Mina shook her head. “You were standing by your beliefs. That’s what mattered. It’s not on you. It’s not.” And even though Mina wanted to kill Frank, she was glad that the decision for his death wasn’t going to weigh on Bex. That was going to be Mina. Because she was going to kill him. She was going to kill him. If there wasn’t anything else to keep her going after this, then that would. 

“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t. You don’t.” She squeezed Bex’s hand and used her other to slowly brush it through Bex’s hair. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t tell him to stab me. This isn’t on you. It’s not. It’s not.” She took the needle and thread out of Bex’s hand and set it down before she put her hand on Bex’s cheek and nudged her to look at her. They weren’t going to be working on this any time soon. There was no way that they could, anyway. She’d tend to her injuries, later, if she had to, if Bex fell asleep. She’d wake her if she needed to stitch her up as well. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for any of this. I don’t. Please, Bex, I don’t.” She didn’t want Bex to cry. She didn’t want them to have to do this. She wished that Bex was somewhere safe. She wished that Bex wasn’t hurting like this. That was Mina’s fault. She was the one that should be apologizing.

It wasn’t a comfort to know that someone else could’ve-- would’ve-- done this to Mina. Bex felt a strange fury building inside of her. She hated the unfairness of it all. Why was it okay for people to run around killing other people? Why was she so powerless to help Mina? She’d gotten there too late. She could’ve stopped Frank if she’d just told someone. If she’d just tried to do something. If she wasn’t such a coward. If she had just let Nell kill him. If she had just-- if she had just. There were too many. “That doesn’t really make me feel better, you know,” she sniffled, trying to keep the quiet rage out of her voice, “and this time-- this boy-- it is my fault. I had so many chances to listen to someone and to stop him and I--” she squeezed tighter before remembering Mina’s condition and trying to relax her grip. She’d never felt so angry before. It reminded her of her mother’s anger. She didn’t want this anger, but how was she supposed to get rid of it without being just like her? Bex tried to swallow the rage and the tears and she choked on them. “My stupid beliefs keep getting people hurt,” she croaked, “maybe I need to...rethink them.” She wished she wasn’t such a coward.

Bex shook her head. “It is! I do! I have to because it’s-- it’s my fault! It is! And not just because-- not just because I stopped him from dying. But because-- my mom-- my parents--” she stuttered and felt the words catch in her throat. Mina’s hand on her cheek felt so warm it almost burned. She shouldn’t have this, she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a happiness like the one she knew Mina could give her. She turned her face away. “You should. You should. If you’d never met me, none of this would’ve happened. None of it. And I--” she watched Mina set the suture aside and tried to bring a focus back to her mind, but she couldn’t. She was so tired. She needed to sleep. “I need to fix this. I can do this. I can, I--” her body shuddered when she tried to breathe in and she could feel her chest seizing up. No, fuck, no, she couldn’t have a panic attack right now. No. Mina needed her. Mina needed her to be here and be present and make sure neither of them died in this stupid, dingy, abandoned cabin. She held her breath and closed her eyes and realized all she really wanted to do right now was wrap herself up in Mina’s arms. “This was all supposed to stop when I went back, and it hasn’t and I don’t know-- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Mina said again. Again and again and again, it seemed like sorry was all that she could say. “I know it’s not reassuring, but it’s the truth. It’s-- That’s how my life is.” She shook her head. “But no, this boy is not your fault. You don’t control his actions. You didn’t make him attack me. You didn’t make him do anything. That’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” She squeezed Bex’s hand back, enough to let her know that she was still there. Enough to let her know that she still could. She was only still alive because of Bex. That was it. She was the reason. And Frank might have found another time, another place to kill her whether Bex was involved or not. “You can’t control other people’s actions, Bex. It’s just not possible. And your beliefs had nothing to do with it. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. It’s not your fault he was a disappointment.”

Bex turned her head, but Mina pulled it back towards her. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated. “You’re not responsible for him. You’re not responsible for your parents. This isn’t on you. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t do this.” She stroked Bex’s face with her fingers, keeping the gesture soothing, simple. “If I’d never met you, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be genuinely happy. I mean, I’d been happy before knowing you. Only recently, really, mostly because of this place, but I have known genuine happiness because of you. Even right now, I’m-- there’s a part of me that’s okay because you’re here, and I hate that, and I hate that this is what’s happening right now, but I am glad you’re here, even if I wish you were somewhere safe.” She watched as Bex started to panic, and she felt her own. She sat up even more and made room, trying to get Bex closer to her on the couch. “Hey, hey, it’s-- Breathe, please. Just breathe. Let’s just breathe, okay?” She exaggerated her own breathing, making a show of doing it, even as it made her side hurt. “It’s okay. It’s okay to not know. It’s okay.” 

“He almost killed you, Mina!” Bex exhaled. If she’d had more energy, she would’ve yelled it. But she didn’t. “That’s not just-- it’s not disappointing, it’s-- it’s-- if I had just done one thing! Just one thing differently, this wouldn’t have happened. I-- I could’ve talked to him sooner, o-or told him what was going on, or if I’d just gone home sooner or never stayed with Morgan or let Nell kill him or fuck-- done it myself! One thing was all it took. One thing and I couldn’t even do that.” Her chest heaved. Mina was trying to get her to get up onto the couch with her but Bex’s eyes stuck to each of her injuries individually and she tried to pull away, too exhausted to even really fight. She felt her body sink into the couch. She tried not to lean on Mina too much. She didn’t want to hurt her more. She couldn’t hurt her more. Her eyes went to the knife on the table. “It might as well have been me,” she said, “my decisions keep getting people hurt.” 

But this wasn’t supposed to be about her. This wasn’t. Mina was still on the fringes of dying. She needed water, she needed medical attention, she needed more than Bex could give her. She tried to stand back up off the couch, legs shaking with such great effort she couldn’t even get them to support her weight as she tried. She tried to breathe in time with Mina, but all she could think about was the pain in her side and how much worse Mina’s must be. “I can’t-- I can’t sit here. I have to-- do something. I have to-- I need to be doing something. I can’t sit here and watch you in so much pain and not do anything.” She was losing it, losing the grip on her focus as the adrenaline began to drain away. It would leave nothing behind. She had no more reserves to pull from. “Please don’t hate me,” she choked out, “please don’t hate me. I-- I ruined it. I ruined your happiness and I’m sorry. I just wanted you-- want you-- so much and it hurts and all I do is cause you pain. I’m sorry.” The words were jumbled, slurred. Her exhaustion felt more like a drunken stupor than any of the ones she’d been in lately. She was still too afraid to touch Mina, to get too close to her, so she wrapped her arms around her own stomach and repeated the words. She just needed to rest a moment. Just a moment. Then she’d be okay. Then she could go back to taking care of things. The rain outside felt like nothing compared to the rain on her face. 

“Yes, well, he somehow didn’t.” Despite literally having the perfect opportunity. Mina couldn’t think of a more foolish thing to do. When she killed him, she was going to make sure that Frank was dead. What kind of hunter didn’t know to make sure their quarry was properly killed before claiming victory? She hoped he raged when he found out her body was gone. She hoped he felt panic. She hoped he felt fear. Because she was going to destroy him. She still had a hand to take, after all. But none of that mattered, at the moment. None of it mattered. Not right now. “And it might not have mattered at all. It might be that nothing would change. If you’d gone home sooner, things might have even been worse.” She pulled Bex’s hand to her lips and kissed it softly, though she followed Bex’s eyes to the knife. It was impressive that her blood had managed to cling to it, despite the rain, despite the lake. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t.”

Mina kept her focus on her own breathing, hoping that, if she did, Bex might possibly follow along with her. “If you try to get up right now, you’re going to be of no use to either of us. I’m not going to keel over if you take a few minutes to breathe, okay? I’m not.” Not unless Frank jumped in through the window and decided to finish the job. But he wouldn’t. He was probably gloating over his victory. Mina leaned forward and put her forehead against Bex’s. “I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you. I love you. I don’t hate you. I promise I don’t hate you.” She couldn’t hate Bex if she tried. She would never try. She didn’t want to. “You don’t only cause me pain. You don’t. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. I don’t hate you.” She didn’t know what else to do, what else to say. She couldn’t fix this. She could only hope that Bex would take some time to breathe before she started moving about the cabin again. Honestly, Mina hoped that Bex would just fall asleep. She needed to sleep. Mina could tend to herself as much as possible and then try to rest a bit herself. It probably wouldn’t be wise to go to sleep again. She needed to make sure she made it through the night.

Somehow didn’t make the millions of possibilities floating around Bex’s head quiet any, but the conviction in Mina’s voice made her quiet a moment. Somehow she’d made it in time. Somehow it had rained and helped Mina’s wounds from getting worse. Somehow Bex had found the strength within her to get Mina to water and to safety and to here, on this couch. They were all somehows and there was nothing definitive about it, but here they were. Both barely alive, bleeding on a couch in the middle of the forest, tired and exhausted and pushed beyond their limits. But they were alive. She was alive. Mina was alive. Whatever scenarios Bex wanted to concoct in her head, this was the situation they were currently in, and no amount of speculating or wishing was going to change anything. Frank had tried to kill Mina, but Bex had gotten there in time, and now all they had to do was make sure it stayed that way. She would make sure it stayed this way. Mina’s lips were warm on her knuckles and Bex realized again how cold the house was. Without insulation or a heater, the rain had chilled the entire place to match the temperature outside. Aside from the fire, slowly fading. Bex shivered. ”I won’t let him hurt you again,” she croaked. “I won’t. I’ll kill him if I have to. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.” And she’d do it-- she would. She’d almost killed that Warden for just breaking Mina’s arm. She’d rip apart Frank’s brain memory by memory if he even got near Mina again.

Bex was trying to breathe. Really, she was. It was harder than it looked. But Mina was so close to her now and how could she not be calmed by the other girl’s presence? Even when she could clearly see the pain and worry in her eyes. Her forehead was warm. Maybe too warm. Could Nymphs get fevers? Bex didn’t know. The thought strangled her insides, but her exhausted mind tucked them away for later. She couldn’t freak out about another thing right now. “D-don’t promise me that,” she stuttered out between sobs, “don’t. You should. You should hate me.” She reached out tentatively, placed her palm on Mina’s chest, fingers pressing lightly into her skin. “I broke your heart. I knew what would happen and I still did it. I just wanted to save you. I thought I could spare you the pain. I didn’t know,” she said, drowning in her grief, “I didn’t know I loved you, too. I didn’t understand.” She was so close. She was right there. She shouldn’t do it. Mina was in pain. Mina had nearly died. She was with Eddie. She shouldn’t do it. But Bex couldn’t stop herself. She closed the distance-- the oh so short distance-- and kissed Mina. And she’d craved her so bad. And she remembered how it had felt in her dream and this was better. So much better. This was real. And so she kissed her and she cried and she didn’t know what to do anymore.

“He’s not going to hurt me like this again,” Mina said, her voice quiet and cold. “And he’s never going to hurt you again, either.” He was dead the moment that he told Mina what he’d done, what he planned to do. He died right then. His heart was just still bleeding. The second that she was able, though, she was killing him. And she’d draw it out, and she’d make it slow, and she’d make him suffer, but she wouldn’t leave knowing there was still air being forced into his lungs and a heart pumping blood through his body. Frank had made many mistakes. Mina was smart enough to learn from the mistakes of others, sometimes, when she set her mind to it. She pulled the blanket closer around Bex’s shoulders, fighting off her own chill. Her skin was hot, her mouth was slightly parched, but she felt the cool air working its way through her body. “You’re not going to have to kill him. You’re not.” She wouldn’t. That was all on Mina. She wondered if it was the fever that was making her just focus on this or if it was the rage that she still couldn’t get over. He wanted to kill Bex. He was going to die.

“I can promise it because I want to, because it’s true, because it’s never not going to be true. I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you.” She wondered if Bex could feel her heart fluttering under her touch. She wondered if Bex knew it was hers. She had to. She had to. Mina had all but told her. “I’d let you break it again. More than once. A thousand times, I don’t care. I wish you’d let me help you, but I understand why you didn’t, why you don’t. I know how hard it is to rely on other people. It’s okay. It’s okay.” There was a moment when Bex was right there, and Mina could see her move, and her heart might have stopped, just for a moment, but then Bex was kissing her, and, oh, that. She missed that. She missed that so much. Yes, she was a bit in pain, and yes, this probably wasn’t smart, but Mina deepened the kiss a bit more, and maybe it was a little selfish, but she didn’t care, in the moment. This wasn’t self preservation. This was selfishness. She was selfish. She wanted this. She’d been wanting this for so long.

There were things that needed doing. The fire was dwindling, the pots outside needed to be pulled in and dumped somewhere to store the water and refilled, the bed needed to be checked. Mina needed tending still, her wounds were so raw. Bex needed to check the basin and see if there was enough water for Mina to soak in. She needed to look for some sort of food. She needed to drink water. They needed to rest, to sleep. They needed to talk about so much more. But, instead, she just kissed her. She just kissed Mina because fuck she’d been wanting to kiss her for so long now. For weeks now. Her hands went up to hold Mina’s face so she could kiss her better, kiss her more. There was a pain in her side as she twisted to get closer, but she didn’t care. She just wanted this. She just wanted to kiss Mina. Even when she had to break away to breathe, all she wanted was to kiss her more. She needed to say something. She just kissed her again instead. What else was there to do? They’d started and now she didn’t want to stop. She shouldn’t have kissed her at all. She didn’t want to stop.

There was so much that needed to be done, but maybe it could wait until tomorrow. Once the rain stopped, it would be easier to portion out the water that would have gathered in the basin. She could dump whatever was left in the boat into the tub, potful by potful, first. Portion out the rest for drinking. Maybe there was a fishing pole down at the shack. Bex didn’t know how to fish. They could re-assess the wounds tomorrow, once Mina had made it through the night and was more stable. There was so much to be done, but it could wait until tomorrow. So Bex just kissed Mina instead, and moved further onto the couch and tried her best not to hurt her or herself but she just wanted to kiss her because it had been so long and she needed it. She needed her. She loved her.

The only thing that Mina was worried about, aside from kissing Bex, was making sure that she didn’t bleed everywhere. Really, nothing else mattered. Not the pain from all the wounds, not the old bruises that still hadn’t healed, not the fact that there was still so much to say. There was still so much to say. Mina wanted to tell Bex what she was. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to try. Just… not right now. Later. They could do it later. She was happy with them doing it later. Literally nothing mattered more than this. Nothing mattered more than pulling Bex as close as she could without injuring her or herself, hands running up and down Bex’s arms, feeling the softness and the heat of her skin. This wasn’t comfortable, by any means. Both of her legs were injured. Her shoulder hurt. Her side was a mess. She was a mess. Bex was a mess. They were both messes, truly. They always had been, when they were together. She’d never minded. She didn’t mind any of it. If anything, she just wanted it more. She’d missed this so much, and it wasn’t like the hole in her chest was healed, not completely, but this made it stop aching as much. That was really all that she could ask for; it was more than she could ask for.

Bex needed to have some semblance of self control. There were so many reasons she needed to have control but she couldn’t remember any of them, because her entire mind was taken up by concentrating on just kissing Mina. And the taste of Mina’s lips and her tongue and the feel of her skin under Bex’s fingertips. The feel of Mina’s hands on her own as she moved them from her arms to her sides, her bare stomach. And if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to lose herself and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. Bex broke away to breath, panting. Her head was pounding, her side was jolting with pain. Her lips felt raw, they were tingling. She leaned in to kiss her again, but managed just enough of herself to restrain, lips just barely grazing Mina’s. “We have to…” she breathed, “we can’t…” They had to what? They couldn’t what? She couldn’t remember. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She kissed her again. Slow, soft. She didn’t want to move. She needed to move. “If we’re not doing...the stitches tonight…” she mumbled against her lips, “we at least need...to get you in some water…” She wondered if Mina would change again. She didn’t wanna think about it. “At least let me do that for you tonight.” It felt like a small plea. She knew she needed to take care of herself as well, but Mina came first. She was dying under her fingertips and Bex needed to do everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen. Neither of them were going to get much sleep tonight, but maybe they could rest. Just a little. They could rest.

“You’re right. You’re right. We have to… We have to…” Mina trailed off, too distracted to remember what they had to do. Because Bex’s lips were on hers, and she could feel Bex’s skin beneath her fingertips, and this was real. This was real. It was painful and wonderful and real. She splayed her fingers over Bex’s heart, feeling it beat. This wasn’t hers. She wasn’t going to get to keep this. It was real, but it wasn’t for her. She wanted it to be. Mina wanted a lot of things. She’d learned to do that, want things, and she’d learned just how useless that was. She wanted to keep kissing Bex. She… wanted to not be hurting. Desperately. She’d really enjoy that. But it wasn’t that important. “If you get me water, you should let me look at your side. Since you can’t heal like me.” It was the least she could do. She wanted to do more. She wished she could, but Mina was all but useless at the moment, and her brain wasn’t working like it was supposed to, and she knew that was only partly from kissing Bex. “I can do that. And you need that more than I do.”

Bex felt her body shudder as Mina’s fingers grazed across her chest, her heart. She wished she could rip it out and give it to Mina. She wanted to give it to Mina. Maybe she already had it, maybe that was why Bex felt cold and empty when she was away from her. Mina had her heart and when she wasn’t around her, she was nothing. She was heartless. It wasn’t fair to Eddie. She needed to tell him. But she needed him, too. She needed him to pretend like her life was normal. She needed him as her shield. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Swallowing, she nodded stiffly. She wanted to keep kissing Mina. “I’ll…” her breath was still thick in her throat. “I’ll fill the tub and you can...look at it in there.” There should’ve been enough water in the basin by now. The rain outside was torrential. She could hear it. And if it wasn’t enough, she would carry in the water in the boat, pot by pot, until the tub was full enough. “Just--” she pulled away, pushing off the couch slowly, “stay here. I’ll be--” her heart hammered. Despite the pain in her side and the tremor in her knees, she leaned down and kissed Mina again, softer this time, slower, a silent promise that she’d be right back. She wasn’t leaving. Not yet. 

She stumbled backwards for a few steps before turning to head to the bathroom, supporting herself with walls and doorways as she did. She needed to clear her head, otherwise she was going to turn right back around and go back to that couch and to Mina and to kissing her. She needed to do this first. She sank to her knees near the tub and reached out for the faucet, struggling to even turn the knob with exhaustion pulling at all her muscles. Finally, it broke, and water poured from the spout into the tub. She let out a long sigh of relief as she rest her head on the edge of the tub for a moment, watching the water slowly fill it up. They had water and everything was going to be okay. Greedily, she stuck her hands under the faucet and filled them up with enough water to drink. It soothed the ache in her throat and she wanted more. The pot in the fireplace should’ve been done by now. Standing back up, the tub about half full now, she made her way back out to Mina on the couch. “There’s enough,” she said, coming back over to her and sinking onto the couch, her body deflating. “Just...give me a minute. And I can help you...into the bathroom…” 

“I can stay here,” Mina said. “I can do that.” It wasn’t like she could do much else, anyway. Her eyes were still heavily lidded by the time Bex went towards the bathroom. She could have just stayed like that, in a state of waiting and watching and hoping, but she needed to do something to make this easier. She’d need to be able to walk a little bit, to not make Bex have to drag her all the way to the bathroom, but she couldn’t do that when her feet were barely even feet. She moved on the couch, covering her legs with the blanket again, and she started trying to shift the bones in her legs back. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But before Bex got back, they were feet instead of fins, and that was really all that she could ask for. Walking was still going to be a struggle, seeing as how one leg was mangled and the other had been shot, but, at least she’d be able to semi walk to the tub. She curled forward a bit from the pain, some of her wounds starting to sluggishly bleed again. She was running out of blood, though. It was fine.

She felt Bex sit on the couch before she saw her, opening her eyes and glancing at the younger girl, who looked almost as bad as she felt. “Take your time,” Mina murmured, clearing her throat when her voice came out pained. She hadn’t realized how much that would hurt. She didn’t think it was possible to be in more pain, but her body was truly surprising her. “I need a moment, too, before I can try to get up. Even with help.” She put a hand over her side, trying not to flinch at the stickiness that she could feel now that the bandages were gone. It was fine. It was going to be fine. “I think I would be fine with a puddle at this point, if I’m being honest.” And she was. Being honest. She really had no choice but to be.

Bex sat up immediately at the sound of Mina’s pained voice. She looked over and saw old wounds reopening, thick, blackish blood draining from them. “Fuck…” she muttered. They’d gotten distracted, they’d been stupid. Mina was dying this was no time for Bex to have kissed her. How could she have been so stupid? She pushed herself up from the couch, ignoring her exhaustion and the burning pain in her legs as she did so. “This is bad…” They didn’t have nearly enough supplies to take care of both of them. Mina was getting worse. Every moment she wasn’t in the water, she was getting worse. Bex should’ve just stayed in the lake with her. But how was she supposed to know? No one told her. Mina hadn’t told her. She shook the thought away and grabbed the towel, pressing it to Mina’s side in hopes of quelling some of the bleeding while they waited. They couldn’t wait much longer, though. She drew in a breath and tried to find something inside of herself, something had to be left, right? She couldn’t have used it all. Maybe some of it was back by now. “It’s fine,” she said suddenly, “I can-- I’ll carry you.” She’d carried her here, what was a few more feet to the bathroom?

Bex wasn’t particularly strong, but she didn’t need to be. That was one thing Nell had taught her that had stuck the fastest. Even though her specialty was mental magic, there were plenty of practical spells she’d been taught that were easy enough. She hadn’t purposefully practiced magic in so long, and while she knew she’d used some intentionally in order to get Mina here, it wasn’t exactly the same. Control seemed nearly impossible, but she had to try. She had to get Mina into that tub where she was sure, if she did accidentally fall asleep or pass out, Mina wouldn’t die. The water wouldn’t let her. She reached out to touch her arm, wrapping her fingers around her wrist delicately. “You’re getting worse, we have to get you in the water,” she urged. “Just let me do this. I can-- if i get you there, I can rest, too. Okay?”

“It’s not as bad as it was,” Mina said, trying to sound reassuring, but she knew it probably wasn’t working. It was bad. It was really bad. It was bad enough that Mina would be forced to acknowledge it. She’d thought that the wolf, the cliff, the ocean was bad. But none of that had been iron. None of that had burned quite like this. Some things didn’t heal right. There was a reason Mina was covered in scars. She knew pain. She knew iron. But not like this. Still, she gritted her teeth and struggled to put her feet in front of her on the floor. “No. No, I can’t ask you to carry me. You’re exhausted. That’s not fair.” Not when she thought Bex herself was in absolutely no shape to be trying to lift anything, much less Mina. She attempted to stand. 

It was a useless endeavor. Mina gritted her teeth as she managed to stand on shaky legs for half a second before she ended up collapsing back to the couch. She hated this. She hated it. She hated being useless. She hated being aware of the fact. It was different, when she wasn’t conscious, when she had no awareness of what was happening. She needed help, then. She knew she needed help. But she wasn’t struggling to stay awake. She was just struggling. She looked at Bex’s fingers around her wrist and then to Bex’s face. Finally, she hung her head. “Okay. Okay. Please help me. But if you start to hurt yourself, stop. Seriously, just put me down if it’s too much. I can probably walk with some support.”

“Hey, stop-- stop it!” Bex tried, but Mina was Mina, and that meant she would try on her own anyway. Bex let her and watched her fall directly back to the couch. They really were two peas in a pod, weren’t they? “I might be exhausted, but I’m not dying. Or bleeding out or covered in--” she swallowed. She absolutely hated seeing Mina like this, it made her blood boil, knowing the boy who’d done it wasn’t far off. Knowing that he probably thought he had been in the right to do this. She tried to not let her anger flare too much. If she was going to use whatever trickle of magic was left in her, she couldn’t waste it on being angry. She couldn’t afford to waste anything right now, and that included brain power arguing with mina. Finally, the other girl relented. Bex nodded and moved herself into position, scooping an arm under her legs and the other around her back. “Just-- hold on. This might...feel weird.” She knew when she used magic it felt weird, but not if having magic used on you was weird.

She tried to picture the rocks she’d dropped off ledges with Nell, how heavy they’d felt in her hands, and how light they’d been a moment later. She poured that intention into lifting Mina, struggling only for a moment before she found her footing. Her arms shook, her legs shook, but she could make it. She could make it. She wanted to hurry but was too afraid to jostle Mina, and too afraid if she went faster than one step at a time, she herself would collapse. She tried not to think about either of those, as she made her way over slowly, arms gripping Mina tightly, like they had in the lake. Like they had when Mina had changed. She made it to the edge of the tub and set Mina down as gently as possible before her legs gave out. The tub faucet had water barely trickling out of it, but it was full enough to submerge her. Bex smiled, tired. “See? I told you I could make it.’

“I’m not dyi—“ Mina choked on the word before she bit her tongue, trying not to scream in frustration. She wasn’t dying. She wasn’t. She wasn’t. But maybe there was a part of her that was still worried about that, worried enough to believe it. She was worried what would happen if she fell asleep, if she lost consciousness for more than a few minutes. She’s never been stabbed like that before, and especially not with cold iron. Mina allowed Bex to maneuver her until she was in the younger girl’s arms, the wound in her shoulder twinging as she wrapped her arms around Bex. Something washed over her, something warm and comforting that made her feel fuzzy around the edges. She sunk into the feeling, burrowing her face is Bex’s neck. “Not weird. It feels nice.” It felt so nice. She almost didn’t think she needed the water as the feeling wrapped around her, soft and caressing and distinctly Bex. It ended when Bex put her down, though. 

The relief was instantaneous as the water touched Mina’s skin. She was still in pain, but it was no longer excruciating. She no longer felt like the knife was still inside of her, something she hadn’t even been aware of until the water touched her wounds. She sighed, eyes closing minutely before she opened them again to look at Bex, a smile of her own crooking it’s way onto her mouth. “I didn’t doubt you could. I just… I just didn’t want you to strain yourself.” Scales were breaking out across her skin again, but there was little Mina could do to stop them. She rested her head on the side of the tub instead. “Are you alright?” She asked, concerned at the way that Bex had collapsed. It wasn’t good for her to use that much magic. It wasn’t good for her to stress her body and her mind when she was already injured as well. 

Not weird. Nice. Bex clung to the words a little. She hadn’t known what it might feel like for Mina, she was worried it might hurt her as much as it had hurt other people. As much as it hurt herself sometimes. She laid her head on the side of the tub as she watched Mina sink in, the relief palpable on her face. She almost wished there was something as soothing for her to lay in, besides, perhaps, Mina’s arms. 

So this was what Mina had meant by fast healing. Bex could almost see the water holding her wounds together, it was strange. The bleeding stopped, the only red from the dried splotches on her side. Bex’s eyes stayed transfixed on whatever piece of Mina she could find that wasn’t covered in red. It was all washing away, hiding beneath silvery scales. She wanted to reach out and touch them again, remembering the feel of them against her arms in the lake. Mina's voice startled her and she looked up, lifting her head. She blinked, let a tired smile fall on her lips. She was too tired to feel upset anymore, even if she still felt like she wanted to yell at Mina. She just wished she’d told her earlier. She wished she’d trusted her enough. She wished for a lot of things, but wishing didn’t change anything. So she just scooted closer, and laid her head against the side of the tub as well, on the outside, looking at Mina. She reached a hand up and brushed it through Mina’s hair gently. “I’ll be okay now,” she murmured, already feeling the fringes of exhaustion pulling at her eyes. Her entire body was deflating now, now that she knew Mina was safe, that Mina wasn’t going to bleed out or keel over. Her job for tonight was done. She could rest, if just for a bit. She knew she needed to assess herself-- there was a dull ache in one of her wrists now, and she distinctly remembered landing on it when they’d fallen, and her head was killing her, there was surely a bruise; and her side, god, her side hurt so much-- but maybe that could just wait until morning. Maybe it all could. She closed her eyes. “I miss you so much.”

It was draining, to feel her body knit together, even if it was slow. Mina knew it was a good thing; she was healing, she was going to probably be fine. It hurt, though. Faster healing didn’t take away the hurt. She was used to pain. Maybe not to this caliber, but she was well acquainted to the feeling of iron slicing through skin. This was just a bit more intense. She was more worried about things becoming numb, blurry. That would make things bad. That’s when they’d need to panic. But for right now, there was just the pain. Mina closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned into Bex’s hand. “Are you sure? It’ll only take a moment. We shouldn’t leave it like that.” She needed to make sure Bex was alright. She needed to make sure Bex was taken care of. At least, she had to do as much as she could like this. She had to. She felt useless. There was nothing Mina hated more than feeling useless, like she couldn’t do anything at all, like she needed help. She didn’t need help. She didn’t. She… did. Desperately. She needed Bex’s help. But that didn’t mean that she wanted this to be one-sided. She couldn’t let this be one-sided. Mina’s eyes stayed closed, though, and she said. “I miss you, too. All the time. Just… Really, all the time.”

Even if Bex wanted to, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to lift herself from this spot anymore. She wasn’t even sure she could go get a blanket, she should’ve brought a blanket with her. Or one of the couch cushions, or something. Anything. Oh, she’d brought the towel in. That would do. She reached over limply and grabbed it, pulling it up over her shoulders as she felt a chill settling in. Once Mina was okay, they could worry about her. She just hoped she could stave off an infection long enough. Her wounds didn’t close like Mina’s could. She swallowed and her mouth felt dry again. She just wanted to sleep. She looked at Mina, her head resting against the side of the tub, so close to her own-- but it was on the other side. Mina was always on the other side from her, wasn’t she? They were just two souls reaching across a line that neither of them understood. If she hadn’t been so dehydrated, she was sure she would’ve teared up at the thought. At her words. She blinked and turned her head down so she didn’t have to look at how painful and sad Mina was. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, so quiet in her throat she’d wondered if she’d even said it at all. Her eyes drifted closed again, and this time, they stayed that way. She didn’t have the energy to fight off sleep anymore.

[livingmybestfakelife]

The Favorite -1 of ?-

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Black Reader

Summary: Tommy and his fellow English men and women prepare for the arrival of an African noble

It’s been a while since you’ve been on a ship, ever since the sinking of the Titanic your parents have been hesitant about you traveling to places that you couldn’t get to by train or automobile. If there was a time where you absolutely had to travel overseas then the crown would make sure that the families royal ocean liner was up to par, plus enough lifeboats just in case the unfortunate were to happen.

The last time you were on the HMS Natukunda was in 1927, three years later and here you are back on giant ship, ready to take you and your parents to the United Kingdom, you have been there once, but you were only two years old at the time and obviously had no memory of it.

“Your highness, his and her greatness will not be attending the trip with you, they asked me to give you a copy of the schedule for you once you arrive in London”

Your personal secretary hands you a folder that you quickly skim through, one of the lines you noticed was with a meeting with some of the the local MP’s. You hold back rolling your eyes and close the folder, you never cared too much about politics and did your very best to stay away from it. Every member of the family that was of age had a responsibility to the crown, either you had to join the countries armed forces, attend university or had some kind of job working for the country, which most likely delt with something political.

“Can’t I just have tea with a member of the royal family?”

He chuckles before shaking his head, Abel felt bad about putting this all on you but it was his duty, he tried often to get your grandfather to change your schedule but his word was nothing to compare to ones of the King of Delhana. When he read over his copy of the list he let out a heavy sigh, this was going to be a hell of a trip, but at least the ship had all the best amenities to keep them entertained, it still didn’t calm your irritation, you would spend days trying to be cordial with the people who were still upset at the fact that their ancestors were unsuccessful in the colonization of your country and also that you were an independent nation, rich in oil, diamonds and other valuable resources, you dreaded the fact that one day you might become queen, and hoped for your grandfather and father to have a long lives, no way do you want to be under that kind of pressure.

Meanwhile all the way overseas in London, the MP’s were discussing the upcoming visit of Delhanan royalty. When Tommy arrived to work all he saw was people rushing around the giant office building, before he could get to his office he was able to catch one of the lower level workers to see what the commotion was about.

“Didn’t you hear sir? Princess YN of Delhana is coming to London”

He was trying to think of how your name was familiar to him, he had heard about Delhana, it was a country in North Africa, known for it’s generational wealth and supposed hoarding of jewels and oil, it was also popular for it’s coffee and tea, not to mention the women were gorgeous, many of Tommy’s old war buddies who took jobs over seas told him about how many goddesses they saw when they were stationed there. Once he made it to his office he’d gotten straight to work, the news of the visitor quickly left his mind, a few hours later there was a knock on his door and one of the last people he wanted to see entered.

“Mr. Shelby, nice day this morning isn’t it?”

He had that silly stupid smirk on his face that he absolutely loathed, he didn’t have time for any of his shit today.

“How may I help you Gregory?”

He could tell that he didn’t like the less formal greeting in return but decided to let it go, there were bigger things he could could argue with him over, less petty ones.

“Oh nothing in particular, just came by to ask if you heard about a certain visitor coming to our dear country”

“Yes, I heard, a Princess if I’m not mistaken”

“Princess YN, she’s second in line to the Delhanan throne and is...just too beautiful for her own good”

“I’m sure she’s a looker”

“She can make a blind man see and a dead one come back to life, if only I were a rich African so that I can have a chance with her”

“Don’t forget fifty years younger”

“That too, still the women in that family have their men in the palm of their hands, her cousin, Princess Iman, is married to a man who hand made the tiara that she wore on their wedding day, the jewels in it came from the mine that his family owns”

“That’s very interesting”

Greogry opened the newspaper that he had in his hand then tossed it over to him on his desk. Tommy looked at him for a moment before picking it up and looked at the page that he turned to.

“Princess YN?”

“No, that’s Iman”

“Princess wears three inch earrings, gold veil, scarlet skirt, red jacket”

“These people are sitting on a gold mine I’m telling you, and if this visit goes well the prime minister is confident that they’ll share their resources with us more often and ease up on all the rules and restrictions”

“Yeah, we’ll see, so everyone is going out of their way to impress her?”

“Well of course, she’s going to be a guest at Buckingham palace to have a dinner and she is to be staying at Fairweather Manor”

“Fairweather manor, only the best for Her royal Highness”

“Indeed...well, I’ll let you get back to work, and don’t forget, we have a meeting after lunch to discuss Delhanan customaries”

“Right”

Once he finally left Tommy put the paper down and leaned back into his seat, if she’s as beautiful and important as he says then he couldn’t wait to meet what the fuss was about.

———————-

“Your highness, what would you like for dinner? The usual I’m guessing.”

“Yes Abel the usual”

“Tsebhi with chapati coming right up”

He bows his head before closing your bedroom door, honestly you weren’t all that hungry, but you knew your mother would be less than pleased at you skipping a meal, you could feel her glare right now at even the thought of it, you stood up with a sigh and walked over to a portrait of one of your great great aunties, the painting looked as though it was staring into your soul, but it gave you some comfort, hopefully the feeling would last during your trip, if the English people were as unbearable as your Babu says then you would need all the blessings that was prayed over you before leaving.

“Keep me in your prayers dear Auntie, and bless you”

You curtsy to her portrait before going back to your dinning table.

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 8

The calm down but a little storm is about to be brewed into a hurricane. 

Again, thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing ice orcs with me. I really appreciate it. Alorna is in the bottom left corner. 

Enjoy. 

Jewel Of The North 

Part 8

“What is wrong with you? You are the only person on the planet that the thought of a millionaire joining the family pisses you off!” John yelled at his wife before he got a call from work. 

“What?” He demanded. 

“Tim called off, is there any way we can get you to come in?” Harald asked him. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” John grumbled before he hung up. 

“You go home and cool off and just think about this and work on a good apology and how we can get into Zara’s good graces. We need her to like us. She’s from a good family and I would bet you twenty bucks that she paid off all her family’s debts, she could do the same for your parents, all of our family’s and hell even Neena’s family’s debts- if she wanted to. She could even donate to the clans. She’s a godsend, literally. You’re always complaining about how I don’t make enough money and how poor we are and our one shot into an easy life in the lap of luxury and you pissed it away on your petty jealousy over what? Because her son is in ballet? Who the fuck cares? He could torture small animals for fun or literally anything else and it shouldn’t make a damn difference! Or was it because she was Anglo? Hell, I’m mostly Anglo and the only time you give a damn is when you can reserve judgement whenever a native marries a non native and you get to sit on top of your high horse and drag everyone else into the mud even though you’re the most guilty of it. Or was the biggest reason you instantly didn’t like her was because she was prettier than you? Gave you some competition for being the most beautiful woman in the family? Was that it? Gods you are so vain! Get over yourself, the world does not revolve around you! She can afford to give Sakura anything she wants and everything she needs and therefore, everything we want and everything we need. She’s the best kind of rich because she wasn’t born with it so her parents didn’t get the chance to tell her to hoard it all, she’s only had it for a couple of years and poor people love to share new wealth! If you had just played nice like your parents asked, we would be on the winning side of this! You knew the family would turn on you if you turned on her. You should have just kept your mouth shut and your judgement to yourself!” John barked as he drove them home before she got out of the car and slammed her door shut and stomped into the house and had a temper tantrum. 

She couldn’t lose like this. Then she got an idea. 

She got in her car and drove to the community center where she knew the remaining elder body would be gathered going over the final details of the festivities the day after tomorrow. But on the way, she saw Doug stumble out of another bar and stagger to his car. 

“What happened to you?” She asked as she pulled up next to him. 

“You don’t want to know.” Doug shook his head. 

“Does it have something to do with Zarasashasabine Kingsley?” She inquired smugly before he looked up at her. 

“Get in and tell me everything.” She invited before he did as she asked and got into her car as she drove to the community center and once there, they stayed and came up with a scheme to get even before Doug seemed to sober up before they went into the center together to address the council. 

“Hey, so there’s been a development…” Alorna insisted to the remaining council of elders that were gathered there. 

Meanwhile-

“Well that was awkward.” You murmured to Noah quietly as he drove over to Taylor’s house to pick up the remainder of your things from her house. 

“That was just Alorna, she always has a blow up at about every family gathering we have. I don’t know if you noticed how everyone else there was way over her bull shit. Literally everyone was mad at her for making a scene. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Noah reassured you before he took your hand from where your arm was wrapped around Sakura and kissed the back of it sweetly. 

“You’re not allowed to feel bad or guilty over the mess Alorna made, it’s Alorna’s mess to clean up. Not yours.” He insisted. “Just give her a wide berth at the summer solstice and you’ll be fine.” He advised. “But it means a lot to me and everyone else that you’ll be coming to it as a priestess. That means the world to the rest of us.” Noah encouraged. 

“You’re welcome, I’ll be happy to do it. Is there anything that needs to be done, like any work on outfits or accessories or anything like that?” You asked. 

“It’s stuff we can work on tomorrow.” He assured you. 

Once you gathered the rest of your things from Taylor’s house and got it all finally put in Noah’s house, he went ahead and took out his ceremonial outfit and laid it out along with Sakura’s as you made sure Sakura would fit hers only to find out that hers was too small. 

“Well lucky for you sweetie, I can sew and first thing tomorrow, we’re gonna go to town and see what we can do to make this work ok?” You reassured Sakura before you all got ready for bed. 

It felt so natural to get into bed with Noah and even though you had a Frozen Tundra sized king bed. You two were cuddled close and you nearly melted when Noah began to scratch your back. 

“Oooh, harder baby,” You moaned which he obliged before you stripped off your night shirt and laid over his chest to provide him all the access to your back you could and before you knew it, scratching turned to stroking turned to massaging and you were in utter bliss. 

“You have an amazing sense of touch. Your pressure is awesome.” You genuinely praised. 

“Thanks.” Noah grinned proudly. Happy that he could please you so well and when you felt his cock poke at your core through the strain of his boxers, it turned you on and before you knew it you had stripped off your underwear and rode him with great enthusiasm because the look of him just staring up at you in awed wonder made you feel like a wonder of the universe. Especially when he would make all these little keens and groans and moans and murmured his praise and love and adoration made you feel like a goddess and the look of him under you was a sight you would happily engrave into your mind forever. He was...perfect. He was handsome, he was built like a blue marble statue of a god and his strong hands that tightly grasped your hips as he guided your movements while also pushing up into you from below were heavenly. 

The next morning you were woken up to the sound of your phone going off and the caller ID told you it was your children. 

“Good morning.” You greeted sleepily from inside Noah’s embrace since he was spooning you. 

“Good morning, are you with Noah?” Skylar asked. 

“Yes I am.” You confirmed. 

“Can we talk to him?” Skylar requested. 

“Sure,” you answered as you gently stroked your foot on his leg which did get him to stir. 

“The kids want to talk to you.” You told him as you handed him your phone from over your shoulder which he lifted his head off his pillow to crack an eye open to see it before he unwrapped his arm which had been wrapped around your waist to reach up and gently take it from you before you turned around in his embrace and cuddled into his warm chest and continue to use his upper arm as your pillow which caused him to bend the arm at the elbow to fold it so he could wrap his forearm around your upper back and shoulders before his fingertips began to delicately stroke your arm. 

“Hello,” he greeted groggily. 

“So, we have been thinking. And if you were up to it...” Skylar began. 

“Put the phone on speaker.” You suggested since you could overhear your daughter before he did as you asked and let the phone rest on the side of your head which made you snort a laugh as his other hand snaked around you and pulled you flush against him as you could feel his morning wood pinned between you which in turn invited you to hike your leg up around his hip. You could still feel all the seed he pumped you full of last night squish between your feminine lips and yet, here you were, hungry for more and Noah’s hand that found your knee and was stroking up your leg to your rear to give it a good squeeze as his hips rolled into yours- it was divine and one of the best ways to wake up. Gods, if you kept this up, your pussy was going to get raw. But at least you were catching up for lost time. 

“Would you be able to take a week off of work so you and Sakura would be able to go on a family cruise with us?” Skylar proposed. 

“Oh no you don’t. No. Nothing too expensive and cruises are nothing but expensive, try again.” You immediately cut in as you picked up the phone to speak into it before you set the phone down on the pillow between Noah’s head and your own. 

“We know, just hear us out before you shoot it down, that’s why we want Noah and Sakura to be our guests on a Disney cruise, to the Frozen Tundra. We originally wanted to go to the Bahamas but Grandpa Gru said that ice orcs can get really sick if they get too hot and we don’t want Sakura especially to get sick. So we figured a Frozen Tundra cruise would be a good in-between. They get to show us a snapshot of the Frozen Tundra and we can show them some Wainwright slash Kingsley hospitality. And we doubt Sakura’s ever been on a cruise and Disney makes the best kids cruises and the kids activities would still give you guys some privacy if you wanted it and we can even get a two bedroom cabin so we can all stay together and Skylar already called dibs on the loft bed and once we can sit down and talk about the possibilities of our two families merging and what that would look like and how that would work and if we figure out it’s not gonna work out, then we got to go on a nice vacation with a nice family and if it does end up working out and we click, the week after the cruise, Noah can fly us home and show us the Frozen Tundra in more detail and we can meet his friends and family and all that jazz.” Xander specified. 

“When would you want to go?” Noah asked. 

“The cruise week would be the third week in July, that way we can have the last week in July up there if everything goes well and that still gives us time to come back home at the beginning of August and have time to get back on our sleep schedule for school.” Xander informed him. 

“What do you think?” Noah asked you. 

“I will admit, I may have been a little too hasty to shoot that down, I apologize for not being respectful in listening to the whole offer before I made a decision. It sounds like a lot of thought and considerations were put into this and all of that sounds fair to me and that gives me enough time to book it and get things mapped out and planned out.” You answered. 

“Then we have a deal.” Noah answered your kids as you heard their cheers which made you and Noah chuckle. 

“Is there anything else that you need to tell me?” You asked as Noah wasted no time in groping your breasts from under your night shirt and you responded by pushing your chest into his touch because you had missed intimate touches like this. 

“Nope, that’s all, we’re looking forward to it.” Your kids chirped charmingly. 

“Well call me if you need me ok?” You invited. 

“Will do, bye.” They bid you before they hung up and right on cue just as Noah finally hiked his hips up into yours and seated himself to the hilt in you, his phone went off. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Noah groaned as he checked his phone. 

“I am so sorry,” He apologized to you. “Unfortunately I have to answer this.” He said before he answered the phone. 

“Hey Kragan.” He answered. 

“Hey Noah, sorry to bother you but I have a load of supplies that needs to be delivered to Fair Banks for the festival tomorrow and I can’t get a hold of anyone else. Is there any way you can do this load? I can pay…” Kragan began. 

“Yeah, I can do that. Give me a bit, I’m in the middle of something right this second.” Noah said as his hips stroked into yours and you bit your bottom lip to keep from moaning. 

“Thank you so much Noah,” Kragan thanked him before he hung up and with that, he rolled over you and started up in earnest. 

“Don’t you have to get going?” You asked as you clung to him as Noah lavished licks and bites and sucks on your neck, giving you another hickey. 

“I always finish what I start.” Noah murmured in your ear before he picked up speed. 

“Lucky me.” You giggled before you gasped then moaned when he nipped at your ear lobe. 

[theatresweetheart]

Thunderstorms and Stowaways

Fandoms: Sanders Sides

Summary: Logan is a dragon that has seen the horrors of humanity and refuses to allow such poisoned mindsets to infect his son. Keeping Virgil away from humans has been relatively simple—until one all but stumbles into his presence harbouring a hatchling of his own.

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, but let me know!

Pairings: Familial Analogical, Familial Royality

Word Count: 4724 words

A/N: I’ve seen a lot of fantastic Dragon!Sides around my dash lately and I felt like I wanted to write something along those lines as well. So, here we are with this story. It turned out a lot longer than I originally planned it to be, but I’m really happy with the end product!

Enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold

                                         ~—~—~—~—~—~

Thunder crashed outside.

Logan sat at the mouth of the cave, eyes watching silently as the rain pounded against the earth with such brutal force—almost dangerous for anything smaller to be out there. It was possible that this storm would flood the local area, which would not be ideal but he wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening. Though, such rain would not bother him as he had seen worse than flooding.

The sound of thunder rolling again brought his attention up to the heavens, the clouds continued to darken as night fell and the sun sunk even further out of sight.

It didn’t look as though there was an end in sight.

A soft cry came from behind him and the dragon turned to see his hatchling beginning to stir from his sleep. Thunder had never bothered Logan, but his son wasn’t as used to a violent storm as he was.

The child in question was raising his head, usually vibrant eyes dulled with exhaustion and distress equally.

As peaceful as watching the rain fall was, Logan had an obligation and he wasn’t about to push his child’s frets—as trivial as they may seem to an older dragon—aside.

He pushed himself into a stand, left his spot at the mouth of the cave and went to lay himself down on the hoard of old books, maps and such.

He had little gold, as there was nothing truly more precious than his son, but the books had been a pride and joy of his before his child had come along. He had never had the chance to truly enjoy them as they might be enjoyed, but it was nice to have there anyhow. Almost as if it were to fill the emptiness that had been the cave before. Logan had found the majority of the books stashed in an abandoned library and, with no one to care if they suddenly went missing, had gathered them into his hoard.

The dragon had been collecting since he was young, so his prosperity was rich with history.

Though, as soon as he laid himself back down, his hatchling curled directly up against his underbelly, feeling safe as close as he was. Logan had come to learn that Virgil preferred proximity. Having his father there made him feel protected and who was Logan to take that way?

In all honesty, having his youngling curled so close to him gave him peace of mind. If he could always feel him, there was no reason to fear him being gone.

“Hush, my little one,” his voice was low and resounding in his chest, a baritone sound that soothed the small noises. “I’m here.”

Virgil responded with a small hum of his own.

It didn’t take long at all before the little one was already drifting back off, almost unfazed by the thunder crashing for a third time, now that he felt secure. While the hatchling was ready for sleep, Logan was anything but. He was tired, yes, but not so much into the fact that he was ready to lay down and sleep the exhaustion off. So, he instead curled his tail around the smaller form and let his head rest against his crossed forearms.

To an intruder, if there were to be one so imprudent, it would seem that Logan would be the only one there. Which would drive said imaginary intruder away immediately.

An adult dragon was nothing to fool with. Not when one comes to their hoard and the dragon has the high ground. And especially not when they have young to protect.

Even as awake as he was, the storm that raged outside was admittedly calming. Through the bright white lightning flashes and thunder rolling across the sky and rumbling through the ground, it was peaceful. An ambiance. The cave itself was high enough that if the low ground did begin to flood, there were be no need to move.

The cave was also high enough away from the nearest human civilization that most wouldn’t dare to attempt to climb it unless they were deliberately there hoping for a fight or to possibly gain treasure in incredible amounts.

Or were just foolish.

Though, Logan suspected that most humans would be fairly disappointed with his own collection of relics and goods. While there was gold, there was not an overwhelming amount of it. Not enough that a greedy human would want to steal away with or live off in wealth and riches. Knowledge had always been so much more valuable than meaningless shinning coins. Though, the shininess of said coins was not bad either.

Allowing himself the benefit of a small nap, his eyes slid closed. He stayed curled protectively around Virgil, so if something were to happen, they would have to go through Logan first. Which would most likely be their first and last mistake.

He had dealt with far too many knights and adventurers to be fazed by their bravery anymore.

It seemed that luck was not on his side. As fate would have it, as soon as Logan was drifting off on his own, a shuffling from the mouth of the cave caught his attention. Instantly alert, but not instantly watching as it seemed that whatever was there didn’t realize he was there just yet.

It was dark outside and his scales didn’t exactly glitter in the darkness either, which did make hiding in the night far easier than it was in the daylight.

He shifted after a moment, partly to not disturb Virgil and partly to see what exactly he was dealing with.

While Logan didn’t have perfect night vision—or perfect vision as it was, anyhow—he could tell that the form at the mouth of the cave was a human, but they were holding something. Certainly drenched with rain water, but more concerned with whatever seemed to be in its arms.

Said human seemed to be far too preoccupied with what it was holding to look around the rest of its hideout, to even figure out if the cave ended in a few feet or just kept going.

A small cry came from the human’s form, but it wasn’t loud enough to be an adult. Because of this, Logan’s interest was immediately piqued.

Though, he was frustrated and rather annoyed that the human had decided his cave would be the place to wait out the storm. At least, that’s what he was assuming the human was doing. It would make the most sense, especially with how powerful the howling winds were and how painful the rain could be when coming down at such an incredible speed.

“…it’s okay,” the voice—a man—said quietly. A promise as if there was nothing else he could say. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll stay here tonight and then we’ll get out of the kingdom.” The human’s form seemed to sway a little bit as the cries came a bit louder. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Please, my little Prince, I need you to be quiet.”

Seemed the man was aware that he may possibly not be alone. Though, if he was taking such a risk, why bring a child along?

If Logan had been any other dragon, it would have been possible that the man and his child would have been done for the minute they set foot in the cave. These two were lucky, as Logan certainly wasn’t as mindless as a lot of his kind could be. Driven by greed and hunger, a rage that said dragon didn’t have. Was never taught to have, not when he had been abandoned when he was a hatchling.

He laid in waiting for another moment, watching as the human rocked himself back and forth, a constant swaying motion that soothed the small cries from the bundle in his arms.

It was obvious that his cave was just being used as shelter from the vicious storm outside and Logan couldn’t really fault him for that. If a human’s hatchling meant half as much as his own did, a parent would do whatever they could to make sure they were alright.

“You are trespassing here, human,” Logan’s voice seemed to have startled the man and he whipped around, eyes blown wide with realization, “and I do not appreciate having intruders in my home.”

“I-I—” The man stammered, looking as if he couldn’t figure out what to say or how to say it. “The storm— I just…”

“Though I must say how lucky you are,” the dragon continued, flexing his shoulders back before settling down a bit more comfortably. His wing had shifted a bit more to rest over Virgil, a defense mechanism to hide him. If the human couldn’t see him, than he would assume that Logan was alone. “If I had been any one else, it would be possible that you and your hatchling would be dead.”

“You won’t touch him,” the man spoke back and Logan watched as the human’s posture changed, tucking the bundle of soaked blankets closer to himself.

“You are correct,” he mused, slightly amused by the defensive behaviour but truly understanding where the human was coming from. “I will not harm you or your child, though trespassing does frustrate me.” He watched as the human seemed to stiffen more, the brave face he had put on flickered for a moment—a battle between real fear and the urge to protect. “However, if you have no intention of doing me harm, I have no intention of doing you harm.”

The human shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Are you proposing a truce?”

“Perhaps,” he stretched out a bit more, looking more analytical. “It depends on you and your true reason for being here. Knowing the truth, it would be far easier to know if it’s worth the risk of allowing you to stay.”

“Worth the risk?” The human snorted in disbelief. “I’m not the dangerous one here.”

“If you have any weapons on you at all, drop them and kick them away from you.”

“I don’t—”

“If you wish to stay the night to wait out the storm, I suggest that you remove your weapons.”

“It’s—”

“For the sake of your child do as I say and remove your weapons or so help me God, I will not sit idly by.”

With that threat hanging in the balance, it took a moment, but the human began to move. He tucked his child into one arm as best as he could and unstrapped the sword by his waist before dropping it to the side. Quickly followed by two daggers and he nudged them away.

The man shushed his child once more as it let out a soft noise, before he turned back to Logan. “Happy?”

“Satisfied,” he corrected. “Do you have a name, human?”

There was an undignified noise released by said male, as if he was offended by the question. “Of course I do,” he snapped back, but not with enough heat to really mean anything behind it. “Roman Knight.”

Logan hummed in approval. “And your child’s?”

Roman seemed a bit more hesitant with this turn, but after a moment of silent deliberation. “Patton.” He paused a moment. “You must have a name then. One that I would be able to pronounce?”

“I suppose,” he said, “it would only be fair. My name is Logan and if you think of taking anything from me, I shall not be so merciful.”

“What is there to even want?” Roman used his free arm to motion to the hoard in question. “It seems as though you only have books and maps and such. Nothing that would help me in any way. I don’t see why you’re so defensive of all of this. To a human it’s all pretty much junk.”

While that did raise a twinge of annoyance in him, Logan brushed it off without letting it show.

His books were certainly not junk but to a human so close-minded, they would be. Why was he even surprised?

“The books are not what I’m defensive of,” Logan replied smoothly, watching Roman’s movements carefully. The perplexed tilt of the head said more than words would be able to, but from there, Logan didn’t elaborate.

And he wouldn’t unless prompted to.

Roman dropped his eyes from the dragon, looking confused. What on earth did that even mean?

He wasn’t defensive because of the worry he was going to be stolen from? Not that Roman was even remotely interested in taking any of the books that laid under the dragon, even the amount of gold that was there wasn’t exactly enough to risk his own life, never mind his child’s as well. That meant that there had to be something more precious than what Roman could see. While that did make him a tad more anxious, his curiosity was a bit more prominent.

“I don’t think I get it then,” he spoke up instead, meeting the eyes of the large beast in front of him, laying so precariously on the heap of his collections. “If the books and gold is not what you’re protecting then—”

With a great sigh, Logan gave it about a second of deliberation before folding his wing back against himself and pushing to sit up a little more, but just enough so that he was still laying down with his tail curled protectively around the child; he revealed the smaller purple scaled dragon that was tucked against him. Though, while he did this, Logan’s eyes did not leave the human form, waiting for any sign of aggression and any sign that he would need to jump into action.

The small gasp he got back from Roman proved that a little hatchling was not what he had been expecting to see.

When there seemed to be no danger of the human lunging forward, Logan relaxed slightly.

“You have—”

“A child, yes,” Logan cut off the bewildered sentence. “You are not the only one that is capable of protecting a hatchling.”

“I—I didn’t know,” he said instead, obviously trying to regain his train of thought.

“I had been hoping it would have remained that way,” Logan rolled his shoulders back after a moment. He had been laying in that position long enough that the satisfying cracks he got were relieving tension. “However, if you are true to your intentions, then there is no harm in you knowing. The truce will stand as long as you hold your peace.”

Logan had no intention of breaking the truce, not with such a heavy bounty on the line if something did happen. Humans though—humans were unpredictable, especially if they believed themselves to be in a dangerous situation.

To corner a scared human could be one’s downfall if they were not prepared to face the backlash. Like any other creature with half a brain, they had a fight or flight mechanism that kicked in when they were frightened. It could all happen in a split second, the choice being made whether to fight the threat or flee from it. Or, if one wasn’t sure, it was possible they would freeze.

“Mm,” the tiny voice from the human child caught Logan’s attention and his eyes were drawn down to the bundle in Roman’s arms.

“I am curious,” Logan started, leaning a bit closer to the human, “why you and your son would be out in such an awful storm. Especially at this time of night. With such little light, the journey would be treacherous.”

“We were fleeing,” Roman explained, but his eyes were not on Logan, they were on Patton as the child reached towards his father. Roman was gently pushing the hands back down and into the cloth blankets. “The monarchy in the kingdom was falling to ruins and with all the chaos, I couldn’t risk him being there anymore. Not when he should get the chance to live. So, we fled. The storm was an…unseen challenge.” His brown eyes moved up to meet Logan’s darker blue ones. “I didn’t know that a dragon lived here. I thought your kind lived further up North, so I assumed staying the night wouldn’t be a problem. I was wrong.”

“Very much so,” Logan mused again, almost looking conflicted at this point. “You took your son and ran?”

“It was the only choice left,” Roman smiled fondly down at the baby in the blankets as he gurgled happily. That’s all this human was; a desperate father wanting nothing but the best for his child. The scene was strikingly familiar, while it was certainly hitting far too close to home. “If they knew I was against the king, they would have killed us both. I couldn’t accept that fate for him. For myself, fine, but not for him.”

Logan hummed. “You are a strange little human,” he said, drawing the surprised eyes back up to him. “For that, I commend you.”

That seemed to leave Roman speechless, the fact that he had just received praise—somewhat—from a dragon that could have taken seconds to take his life.

Thunder crashed outside for a fourth time and it startled the human into jumping backwards, turning to face the sound. Logan, unfazed, only looked up. The flash of lightning lit up the cave for a fraction of a second before the light disappeared once more.

“Mmm,” the quiet frightened noise rose from just beside him and Logan’s attention shifted to the slightly twitching form of his own offspring. The thunder must have caused some sort of reaction subconsciously.

Almost as if the human was no longer standing there watching him, Logan laid himself back down, curling back around Virgil once more. It took a moment before he was stretching a wing out to hide him from sight once more. This time, it was more to offer what little warmth he could.

“Hush, little one,” he soothed, nudging the smaller form with his muzzle. The loving motion calmed the anxious squirming as quickly as it had come, the small breath released quietly. “I am still here.”

Once he was satisfied, Logan’s attention turned back to Roman, who was still watching him carefully.

The human shifted after a second. “How old is he?”

Being honest, that was the last question Logan had been expecting him to ask, but he noted that it was innocent enough. “Six months by human standards,” he said, a glint of something shone behind his eyes, “he is still rather small for his age, however.”

Roman hadn’t seen many dragons in his lifetime, maybe two at most before this encounter and even then they had been fully grown, but to know that this one was small for his age? He couldn’t say he didn’t believe it. While he certainly had a limited time actually getting to see the child, it was obvious how much smaller he was than Logan. Roman had assumed he was younger than he was. He was sure that if he were to get close enough, the hatchling wouldn’t have been much bigger than he was as a fully grown adult.

Though, Roman didn’t quite understand. Six months for a dragon was different than a human? “By human standards?”

Logan snuffled quietly, the ignorance of some humans was unbelievable. If his kind was such a danger, one would believe humans would have collected as much information as possible for their safety. “His maturity level would match that of an 11-year-old child,” he said instead, eyes flicking lazily over Roman’s form. “Does that ease your curiosity?”

If he was being honest, it didn’t help much. It did give a bit more insight into how dragons aged. While, no, it didn’t make a lot of sense, it made enough that he was done asking questions about it. His curiosity wasn’t entirely soothed, as that made him wonder about Logan’s age.

Now Logan was a dragon that had to be fully grown, there was no way he couldn’t be—but then there was the lingering thought of; what if he wasn’t?

It was endlessly fascinating, truly.

“It does worry me,” the dragon’s voice made Roman snap from his thoughts, looking up to him. Logan wasn’t looking at him, but at the small form curled under his wing protectively.

“Understandably so,” Roman nearly startled again when the sharp eyes met his own again. “I-I mean, you’re a father. Who wouldn’t be worried about their kid’s health?”

Logan hummed. “It’s not his health,” he mused, watching with a fond look as Virgil curled a bit further into himself, huffing a little bit but sleeping soundly. “It’s the world around him that worries me.”

It was humans that worried him the most.

Their unpredictability was a horror that many mystical creatures had faced before. It was something that he had seen up-close and personal.

While many other dragons preferred to live in small groups of at least four, he ignored that and stayed by himself. They were the reasons he didn’t live with a pack of other dragons, as getting attached only to have something bad happen to the majority of them was unnerving. Humans were one of the main reasons Logan stayed in caves so high above the ground, where they would be least likely to want to venture into.

Even when he was a youngling, he had refused to stay with the elders and had instead gone off on his own, wanting to stay separated and safe. The bigger the pack, a “family” as they had called it, the more danger that they put themselves in. The more targets a human had if they got too close undetected.

Logan had always preferred to be on his own anyhow. His mother had been far too overprotective, growling at anyone that wasn’t apart of their Weyr. He could recall many times where he had been lifted off of the ground in his mother’s jaws and carried around like a pup when others got too playful. His father had been a bit more lenient, but that was before he had been hunted and slaughtered.

After both of his parents had been killed—his mother had gone out to search for revenge only to never come back—Logan had resorted to staying away from others. To refrain from getting attached.

When he was younger, he was different. He had different reasons and motivations for doing something. Now he had bigger and more important priorities.

While many other creatures would fight the threat, Logan couldn’t afford that sort of mindset anymore. Not unless it was his young being actively threatened.

Virgil was not his biological offspring—he had never stayed in one place long enough to gain a mate, nor was he interested in female dragons when they presented themselves to him—and Logan had instead found the little egg abandoned, nearly frozen. It was partially a hit or miss if the little one would have even hatched or not.

It was nearly a miracle the first time Logan had felt any movement at all from within the egg after he had rescued it.

If he were being solely honest, he hadn’t grown attached to the little one until he had first seen him pushing through the shell of his egg. When he had rescued it, that’s all it had been to him; an egg. Yes, there was a child inside of it, but that didn’t matter if it didn’t hatch. He hadn’t really cared until he had seen the vibrant violet eyes staring up at him confused and scared, but filled with the will to understand and learn.

The first time Logan had been called “Dad” had possibly been the happiest he’d ever been—and he had never been considered emotional.

Whether Virgil was of his own blood or not, he was still his son and no one could change his stance on that.

Thunder rolled across the sky again. Lightning flashed and electricity crackled through the air, causing nothing but a slight stir in the cave.

“Oh,” Roman sounded disheartened at that statement. “But you’re both dragons. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“It means that he will be viewed as a threat the second the townsfolk see him. The moment the kingdom you escaped from—or any kingdom for that matter—catches news of us being here, it becomes a threat to my safety and his own.” Logan sighed through his nose, recollecting his thoughts. “You escaped peril for the sake of your son, yes? You’ve kept him hidden from me and from your own people for his safety. That is precisely what I’m trying to do. Staying out of the public eye allows us to live a life of peace.”

Roman dropped his gaze, he’d never really thought about it from such a perspective. Of course, why would he have? He’d never been able to be close enough to a dragon to have such a civilized conversation without the underlying threat of being burned to a crisp.

He stroked a hand over Patton’s soft curls. “I’m sorry.”

Logan snorted lowly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Roman defended, finally letting himself ease down into a sit, his legs crossed in a comfortable position. “I just want you to know that I get it. Sort of. In the fact that you’d do anything for him. I get that.”

Logan didn’t reply immediately, instead, he sort of just laid there curled around his young one, eyes watching the human quietly. Studying him.

He then chuckled, the baritone sound rumbled through his chest. A powerful noise that he had quieted for the fact that his hatchling and the human’s were sleeping. Roman rose his head, slightly surprised that Logan could do that in the first place. “You really are a strange little human, Roman Knight,” he mused, lowering his head to rest on his forearms, but his eyes never left the form in front of him. “I truly do commend you for that and my words do not come cheap, mind you.”

At the praise, Roman grinned a little more, preening a bit. “Thank you.”

The dragon huffed, there was a slight teasing light shining in his great eyes. “I advise you, do not let that go to your head.”

The two fell into a, somewhat, comfortable silence and let the storm rage outside as more of a background noise. It wasn’t long before Roman was tending back to his own child, soothing him back to sleep with little coos and whispered words, even a small, quiet song arose and filled the darkness of the cavern.

It was a scene that he had lived through himself. It was odd, admittedly, seeing it from a different perspective but there was no shame in it.

After all, it was proven to him that maybe not everything in humanity had been laid to waste. If there were still people like Roman, then there was still good in the world—however little there may be.

The rain pounding outside was almost lulling at this point and he was exhausted. If he had not been kept up so late by the unsuspecting intruder, the night would have gone a bit smoother. Though, now Logan could see the weapons laying away from the man and it seemed that he was in no rush to grab them, far too busy with getting his baby to sleep. So, with what little comfort that gave him, he settled down for sleep.

So, as he closed his eyes and was nearly drifting off, he belatedly realized that humans didn’t usually sleep on the ground and if they did, there was some sort of padding to make it more comfortable.

Especially with a little one. Letting the child sleep on the cold hard ground would be unfair.

“You will find dry blankets and silks in my hoard,” Logan said, but without reopening his eyes. He subtly positioned himself a bit closer to Virgil—as one could never be too careful—before he was finally satisfied. “Use them to keep yourself and your son warm. Dry yourself off. You or your little one getting sick on my watch would be unfortunate.”

Logan didn’t hear any movement at first, before there was the shuffling of clothing and the soft murmurings from Roman down to the child swaddled in his arms. He had been listened to and with that in mind, he finally allowed himself to settle down for sleep.

[serialreblogger]

Tagging Game

thank you for the tag @theproblemwithstardust!

rules: tag 10 people you think would like to be tagged, and copy/paste the asks into a new post. Answer all/as many of them as you want!

1. do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen? bold of you provide such a boring binary. i prefer green

2. would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? again: no. give me Forest or give me death

3. if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? FLIGHT

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? so MUCH. i have to add half of it at the hot water station at work and half at my desk so my coworkers don’t catch on that i’m a hummingbird in human form

5. what was your favorite book as a child? one??? well i loved The Girl Who Could Fly by Victoria Forester. When i was little i read pretty much whatever i could get my hands on tho, most of which were really old and British for some reason? which is why i now talk like a horrific combination of “abominable tumblrite” and “Victorian aristocrat”

6. do you prefer baths or showers? BATHS but only if i can play music to drown out the sound of my ears ringing

7. if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? i WOULD be a dryad, but if i could choose i’d be a shapeshifter (capable of transforming into anything and everything)

8. paper or electronic books? i hoard books like a dragon hoards gold, but like. electronic books are also valid (no no look i’m not elitist, some of my best friends are fanfics)

9. what is your favorite item of clothing? i have a sky blue dress shirt that is the perfect fabric and colour and shape and i love it so much

10. do you like your name? would you like to change it? my Name is Linden, and i love it. my legal name is distressingly ugly and i hate it

11. who is a mentor to you? dang, friend, i don’t think i trust any adults enough for them to count

12. would you like to be famous? if so, what for? i would like to be famous for writing excellent, world-changing fantasy fiction. it will have actual representation and will be so popular that no one will remember the name of that other british writer, she who must not be named

13. are you a restless sleeper? ehh i don’t have insomnia but like. i don’t -enjoy- sleeping

14. do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? nah fam i’m MUCH to screwed up for that. i like romance well enough but i’m awkward as heck, doubly so with romance. sorry Cris, i love you

15. which element best represents you? aether! i am Edgy

16. who do you want to be closer to? some of my irl friends, i guess, bc i’m real bad at relationship maintenance sometimes

17. do you miss someone at the moment? i miss my girlfriend!

18. tell us about an early childhood memory. my childhood had happy parts but i mostly remember all that trauma, so imma give y’all a pass on that one

19. what is the strangest thing you have eaten? honestly, probably calamari. i’m not an adventurous eater. but i do like me some nice rubbery squid

20. what are you most thankful for? i just got a job, which means i can (hopefully) move out in the next little bit!

21. do you like spicy food? NO i do NOT enjoy the feeling of flame inside my mouth, i am TOO WHITE for that

22. have you ever met someone famous? Ryan Reynold’s brother’s cousin or something works at our local Costco, does that count?

23. do you keep a diary or journal? it’s called a “tumblr blog”

24. do you prefer to use pen or pencil? pencil!

25. what is your star sign? i like 🌠

26. do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? unpopular opinion but soggy cereal is better

27. what would you want your legacy to be? i want something i do to have a real, significant, important impact on the justice of this awful world. i want my life to make it easier for the kids who come after me to live theirs

28. do you like reading? What was the last book you read? i LOVE reading but these days it’s only fanfiction. Do you accept The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps? I hope so because it well surpasses most fiction for thematic complexity and superb characterization, do recommend

29. what are you afraid of? literally everything

30. what is your favorite scent? i don’t really like scents, but i love the smell of my girlfriend’s house

31. do you address older people by their name or surname? i prefer to simply Not address them (because i want to call them by their surname but at this point i’m also an adult and that’s apparently weird)

32. if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? i would MOVE OUT. then take a part-time desk job and spend the rest of my time growing succulents and writing stories

33. do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? mmm also no

34. what would you do if you found $50 in the ground? honestly i’d probably ask the nearest person if it was theirs, and they would say yes even though it wasn’t and i wouldn’t clue in until i was halfway down the block

35. if you were to get a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? i GENUINELY don’t trust myself enough to get a tattoo. i’m not permanent enough for that. but if i had to i’d probably pick a little, colourful, very pretty tree design and put it on my ankle or the inside of my wrist

36. what can you hear now? Welcome To The Black Parade by MCR

37. where do you feel the safest? lol imagine feeling safe

38. if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? look if i existed at any point prior to today i would, 100% without doubt, be dead by now. that said the 1920s had some sweet hair jewelry

39. what is your most used emoji? 😊

40. describe yourself using one word. contradictory

41. what do you regret the most? who i used to think i was. the person i tried to be

42. last movie you saw? The Meg (hey, it has a surprisingly good romance subplot. i was actually mildly invested, A+ for a canon m/f ship in a dumb action movie. Also it has Attractive Bruce Willis in it, so bonus points)

43. last tv show you watched? i think it was Community

44. invent a word and its meaning: Hieuule is from my current wip. It means “treasure/wealth of spirit”

ok imma tag @onionwithanxiety, @existentialcrisisetcetera, @hitsuaya, @imthesheikofaraby, @elmofongo, @oliver-in-retrograde, @thenorsiest, @lunarmultishine, @marshmallow-fluffy and @affzinho! I’d love to see y’all’s responses (but please don’t feel pressured, of course) and anyone else who wants to do this, consider yourselves tagged by yours truly!!

[jyndor]

so I was talking to my friend @timelordthirteen about some shit and I decided to just share with you all about the importance of actually explaining shit instead of just saying it. the Left, I am looking at you bitch (ily bitch but)

lol would put a read more but tumblr's being a petty little bitch today ❤

shitposting is fun. dunking on asshat right wingers is fun. you know what is not fun? seeing people not understand the basic terminology that we use in the ~discourse*

but. if we are going to use terminology, if we are going to inject regular old laypeople conversations with (imo) unneccessary amounts of academic terms, then we should try to use them correctly** because in many cases misusing them means we as leftists do not have a full understanding of what the fuck we're on about. this dilutes both the meanings of these terms and their purposes. I know I am wordy as fuck and can be hard to understand sometimes (thanks adhd) so what I am about to say is a little ironic, but clarity is fucking important when it comes to strategy and organizing.

so I am going to examine some commonly misused concepts and terms today. yay.

1. THEORY, PRAXIS AND FRAMEWORKS FOR ANALYSIS weeee yes I am fun at parties tyvm

what is a framework? a structure, in this case, for analyzing some bullshit we deal with irl. that's it lol but I use it a lot so I figured I'd define it here. examples of frameworks are: intersectionality, marxism, queer theory. seriously, if you can think it, it has already been analyzed through the queer lens.

what is theory? ideas, knowledge in the abstract based on looking at shit happen and analyzing that shit. it is useful because it can help us articulate what we are going through in our shitty lives. this is why I often recommend people learn about chomsky's manufacturing consent (theory of why we get the info we get from the media tl;dr), not because I think chomsky is the ultimate leftist grandpa but because this site needs some media literacy lmao. and btw, this clip narrated by amy goodman is a great, trippy little 4:30 min long video that explains the basics of manufacturing consent so you don't have to open a book or use drugs!

theory can help serve as a framework to understand what the fuck is happening to us irl, but imo is kind of an incomplete understanding of shit without lived experience (aka - theory v praxis). this is one reason why we should listen to marginalized groups on their own shit and not talk over them - because all of the research and theory in the world does not make me a Black woman living in Flint (aka - ground up organizing v technocracy). it is not about being nice, or politically correct, although we should be nice and we should care about people just because they're people. if you understand the why of listening to marginalized groups, you understand that it is mainly about communities knowing their own problems best and therefore having the best solutions for those problems.

2. MARXISM, CAPITALISM AND OTHER BUZZWORDS (and leftists need hobbies)

so marxism is a framework for socioeconomic analysis observed by mr kpop himself, karl marx (and his sugar daddy friedrich engels). because leftists love to argue, there are so many kinds of marxism, and if you ever feel like you are shouting into the void too much, just look up some arguments between stalinists and trotskyists. it's just... magical. no, I am not defining tankie here.

as many people smarter than I am have said (read: kwame ture seriously watch this video it's iconic), karl marx did not discover socialism or invent it or whatever, he observed capitalism and saw how shitty it is, like any other sane person would do. the point of marxism is not karl marx (which he would say) or tankies or fuckin guillotines***

things that marxism is:

- an analytical tool for looking at the world

- a theory which was used to develop the basis of different kinds of post-capitalist economic systems like communism and socialism

things that marxism is not:

- a system of economics or government lmao marx did not govern dick

- scary

marx looked at capitalism and said "this is definitely gonna fail someday because it's clearly unsustainable, I mean the proletariat is bigger than the bourgeoisie who owns everything uh yeah so I can do basic fucking math. if I have one capitalist and fifteen hundred workers, eventually that capitalist is gonna lose his damn head because he is gonna hoard all that wealth and his workers are gonna get pissed that they don't have their basic fucking needs met. lmao now put on some kpop, freddy" or something. idk that might not be a direct quote.

what is capitalism? (besides horseshit) a system of economics where industry is privately owned. and yes, this includes publically traded corporations because they are still owned by individuals (shareholders) even if they aren't privately owned by one person or a group of partners. truly a nightmare to live in, and we hate to see it.

what is the proletariat? well, the working class. and the bourgeoisie is the owner class, the capitalist class. the rich.

and this is something else that we need to discuss, tumblr. if you are going to say "eat the rich" please understand who you are talking about. we're not talking about random actors or musicians, or doctors or lawyers, even if they make better than a liveable wage. even if they often have zero class consciousness, meaning they don't ~see class, like colorblind racism for classism.

anyone who has to sell their labor for wages and is not part of the owner class is working class. this includes people who cannot work for any multitude of reasons (disability, can't find work, caretaker, etc) and also white collar workers who might be well off in relatively high paying jobs because they don't own the means of production, or capital that is used to produce shit. so yes, that rich actor who is a part of a union is actually part of the working class in marxist theory. when we say eat the rich, we mean jeff bezos, not john boyega. jeff bezos owns the means of production. john boyega is a working actor who is in a union.

this is important not because we shouldn't get pissed off when actors and celebrities do tone deaf shit like singing about imagining no possessions in their mansions while people starve during a pandemic. they need to put their money to good use, have some class consciousness, instead of asking fans to donate to causes that they could fund. but they are not the bourgeoisie until they start owning the means of production. and there is no doubt that many of them do, which is why we might eat gwyneth paltrow but we won't eat john boyega.

and by the way, eating the rich is metaphorical, a reference to french revolution-era philosopher jean-jacques rousseau's quote: "when the people shall have nothing more to eat, they will eat the rich." obviously I don't even need to explain it but I will anyway. basically, the people will forcibly redistribute the wealth of the rich if they have nothing else. this is why there are some very smart capitalists who are in favor of reforms and raising taxes, because they recognize the danger to their necks in not providing for basic needs of the working class. no, "eat the rich" does not mean be pro-cannibalism. but there are many capitalists who would prefer to die than lose their hoard so

oh, and one last thing. "no ethical consumption in capitalism" is tossed around a lot and it's a million percent true, but I need all of us to understand that it is not an excuse to support harmful practices but it is also not meant to shame consumers. it is rather an understanding that we as consumers are not responsible for the monstrous impact of capitalism. we live in it, we have no choice but to consume, and sometimes (most of the time) that means we have to buy shit that was produced in unethical ways. unfortunately supply chains being what they are, all consumption causes harm in some way.

it is a reminder that individual actions are not going to have the impact of collection actions. this is why plastic bag bans, though well-meaning, are not going to have the same impact on climate catastrophe as, say, banning fossil fuels would.

I am a vegetarian and I can recognize that I am doing a whole lot of nothing by not supporting factory farms, and when I was a vegan I wasn't doing much either. boycotts without mass support don't have much evidence of working. this is why bds exists - boycott divestment and sanctions. boycott, meaning don't support goods from various conpanies connected to something, divestment, meaning get companies/countries/institutions to remove their money from something, and sanctions, meaning getting countries to penalize a country for their bad behavior until they comply.

this is what the anti-apartheid south africa movement did and what palestinian rights organizers support for israeli apartheid.

do not allow legislators to put the burden of fixing the ills of society that capitalism created on consumers' shoulders.

3. INTERSECTIONALITY (because it deserves its own section)

I don't have as much to say on this as I did the last bit because holy shit capitalism, man.

intersectionality, a term that was coined by law professor kimberlé crenshaw in the late 80s to serve as a framework for people to critically assess how legal structures impact Black women differently due to class, race and gender. it is not incompatible with marxism (in fact marxism has been argued to be a form of intersectionality).

intersectionality can and should be used to examine why the Black queer experience is unique, for example. I also want to acknowledge that professor crenshaw isn't the only person to come up with intersectionality; sojourner truth spoke about it even if she didn't coin the term, for example. patricia hill collins, another influential af Black feminist academic****, created frameworks for viewing intersectionality. also you can read her book black feminist thought here for free.

intersectionality has been used - improperly - by liberal feminists***** to excuse bad behavior from leaders who pretend to care about women while creating and enforcing legislation that harms women. anyone who stans politicians at all needs help. it has also been misrepresented as essentialism, which it is also not (essentialism is the idea that everything has some assets that are necessary to its identity) because intersectionality isn't saying that every Black queer woman has the same experience, just that Black queer women might experience similar issues because of a system that negatively views them as Black and queer and women.

intersectionality does not excuse kamala harris for prosecuting poor moms of truant kids.

okay if you guys have things to add please do because I want us to educate each other instead of always talking shit. both is good.

* I am not calling out people for not being academic enough or not speaking english or not reading enough theory because LOL I am a 2x neurodivergent college dropout who radicalized by working retail and not by hearing karl marx talk dirty to me. also, not everyone speaks english like, I am truly not shitting on people.

** I recognize that language is fluid and ever changing, and that is a good thing. But diluting terms that serve specific purposes is not ever going to be good.

*** and I don't want to dismiss intra-leftist theory discourse (🤢) because I know how annoying it is to hear bernie sanders lumped in with liz warren, or bernie sanders lumping himself in with post-capitalists lmao of course I get it. but twitter discourse is not dismantling capitalism so ANYWAY

**** actually crenshaw built on collins' work (black feminist thought) and the collins built on crenshaw' work we love to see it.

***** I should go ahead and define liberal feminism as well as rad fem and terf and shit because people use them all very very loosely, especially terf (not every transphobe is a terf but every terf is a transphobe, it's like the rectangle/square thing). but I am exhausted with this so next time.

[ava-jones]

Jen and Ava have a duel

Practice challenge fic pt 2.5

Ava sighed as she walked towards the garden she had seen from her window. It was a little more put together than her wild gardens of Sumner, but it would do. 

She stepped out and looked at some of the flowers, it was quiet. She had never found a quiet place in Angeles as long as she had lived there. It was a nice change. She turned to walk down another path when she saw another selected. It took her a moment but she vaguely recognized her as Jen Li. She was one of the people on her managers "do not speak to" list. However, Ava really liked to stick it to her manager so she approached the lost in thought Jen. 

"Oh hey, sorry I didn't realize anyone was out here.” She apologized but secretly was hoping to make a friend here. This would be a very boring job if she was on her own all the time. 

Jen straightened and turned away from her, “It's okay. I'll just head in.”

Ava felt her older sister instincts kick in as Jen sounded troubled, “No wait, are you okay? You look a little uneasy. Not to like, pry or anything but I've been told I can lend a good ear.”

“No, I... It's just been a lot. They never let you have a moment to breathe.” She replied before mumbling something to herself. 

Ava couldn’t help but laugh. This was a place to breathe for her. It wasn't as free as Sumner, sure, but she didn’t have to deal with stalkers waiting outside her house, or cooperating with sleazy men, “Sorry, this has just been-like my vacation away from never being able to breathe. I don't know if you recognize me or know of me but I'm Ava Jones. My work keeps me pretty thrown around like this so I might have a few pointers if you'd like some?” She offered, sitting down on the bench next to Jen. 

“I mean, if you want to,” she responded before smirking, “and I like Friday.” She added. 

Ava rolled her eyes at the comment of her oldest song, “Thanks. It might be my greatest shame but at least I have the excuse of being 15 when I made it.” She then thought for a moment as she tried to find the right words for her advice. “Well for me, I generally find, like a - and please don’t think I'm an Angeles hipster for this- but a 'zen' place. Like I have a pretty big garden backyard because it makes me think of my garden at home in Sumner. So, for you what's a time or place where you just feel really at peace?”

She took a moment to think, “whenever I'm in my apartment and I'm completely immersed in an essay while my music plays on shuffle. I can just forget and focus on where I know I want to be.” Ava thought she sounded like a good potential friend.

“I get that. When I write a song I'm in a totally different place too. Wouldn't get essays though since I dropped out of high school.” Ava paused for a moment trying to find the next way to help her, “Do you have any topics of interest you'd be able to write on while here?” 

She laughed, “Maybe. You think they encourage individual thought here? Because I doubt they'd like my essays.”

“I mean I don’t think they've discouraged it. Whichever person marries the prince will end up queen so they probably want someone with a brain.” Ava thought out loud not really having considered the topic before. 

“A brain with only shared opinions maybe.” Jen half joked. 

“Well what ideas do you think they'd dislike of yours? You don't seem particularly threatening. I doubt you'd suggest whipping out a guillotine.” Ava added genuinely wondering what ideas she could have that would really be that out there. 

Jen laughed, “ You have no idea. What about you? Do you have any opinions you'd be admonished for?” 

She had to think for a moment as she hadn't really had a moment to consider anything but work since she was fifteen, “hmmm, I'm not really political. There are obvious things like women's equality, especially in the music industry. It's really shit right now. But other than that I can't really think of anything. Maybe an easier opportunity for caste growth? But i dont think I'd be hung and quartered for that.”  

“Maybe not. Some people might want you to be, but... Sorry, you said you don't care about politics,” she shrugged, “Guess someone like you wouldn't have to.” 

My eyebrows furrowed at her second comment, what did she mean someone like me? “I mean I don't not care, I just haven't really had the time to think. Also what's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it's not like pop stars like you need to. People like you can get by because nothing affects you.” I was in shock for a moment. I grew up in a town of mostly 4s and lower. I was very aware of the effects of economic disparity and the flaws of illea. Just because I hadn’t considered them recently did not mean I was unaffected. 

“You literally just met me. You don't know the first thing about me. Jen Li, right?” I double checked, running through all of the info I knew about her. Maybe she had a family member who was an 8? No. Someone died of poverty? No.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“So in my line of work, I have to expect any questions in interviews and have answers prepared. Therefore, when the selected were announced I received basic information on each of the selected. What's your caste again?” I asked, knowing full well that she’s a three. A higher caste than I was for most of my life. 

“I'm a Three.”

“Mhm, and where do you go to school?”

“Something about the way you're speaking sounds like you already know.”

“Yeah but you don't seem to be aware of it. You go to Yale, an extremely expensive school, you're also a three, wealthy enough that they picked your caste for all selected to default to after elimination. So I'm really sure that the economic disparities of our country greatly affect you personally enough for you to have an opinion, whereas I clearly don't.” Ava huffed in anger and stood from the bench, “I'm not really a fan of close minded, wealthy hypocrites, I meet enough of them in my line of work, so I'll see you around.” Ava said, turning to leave. 

Jen yelled after her, “At least I do something with my privilege. Unlike you, I don't strut around on stage while being paid millions of dollars.” 

Ava turned around. She could yell how she’d fixed her family's farm, how she’d paid for the medical costs for Michael, how she kept everyone in her town fed and housed, how most of her money went to charity because she was very aware of the struggle around her as she had grown up in it. But she held her tongue, “You don't know the first thing about me, your assumptions show you as judgmental and arrogant. Add those to the list of reasons I'll be taking my leave.” 

Later that night Ava was enjoying a cup of tea in her room when Emily-Rose burst in sobbing. Ava and Emily weren’t really friends, but they did know each other so Emily must have come to her as her only friend here so far.

“What’s wrong?” Ava asked as she sat down her tea. Emily spent the next few hours crying and telling her how she had tried to befriend Jen. As soon as Jen came up she knew this would be bad. Emily being the blissfully ignorant girl that she is, brought macarons as a welcome gift for some of the girls, she was always so desperate for validation. Jen saw this as a display of wealth instead of an invitation of friendship and rejected it. Emily, never being raised around 6s handed the box off to the maid without speaking or looking at her. Enraged Jen stood from her bed and shoved the box back at Emily and told her she was being disrespectful to her maid. Emily was confused so she tried again and asked the made if she could throw away the box, an act that both would upset Jen as she was throwing away perfectly good food and not doing it herself- despite the fact that Jen had a maid and clearly was not doing somethings herself either, Jen called Emily a bitch and she ran off crying. After hours wondering what she did wrong Emily appeared at Ava’s door. She spent the next few hours crying in Ava’s bed until she tucked her in then stormed off to Jen’s room. 

She banged on the door, “Open this fucking door you shithead!”

Jen’s maid opened the door and looked horrified which caused Ava to feel a bit guilty about the late hour, “Oh sorry, I figured she would have dismissed you for the night.” She apologized. She would have waited for this, but she really would rather get over with her last time speaking to Jen Li. She walked in and walked over to her bed, “Wake up!”

Jen sat up and dismissed her maids question about calling security, “What do you want?”

“I have a question for you? Were you raised by bears? Do you have any idea how to be polite at all! I mean I was raised on a farm and I've seen pigs have better manners to do. What do you do when someone offers you a gift, Jen Li?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“I'm talking about Emily-Rose White and her dumbass macarons. Of course they're extra and yes she can be a little annoying. But when someone offers you a gift, the polite thing to do is to take it and move on even if you don't want it. The rude thing that you did do is refuse it adamantly, then even worse, all the person who gave you the gift a 'bitch' which by the way the use of that word is a whole other discussion.” 

Jen looked up in shock, “She treated my maid like a dog. I don't respect people who don't respect others, especially because of their caste.”

That’s rich (like Jen). Ava laughed before speaking again, “Well then you shouldn't respect yourself! You assumed that because I am a two that I am snobby and hoard money. I donate most of my money, I was born a four, and my closest friends who I live with are sevens. And yes Emily is spoiled, and I will speak to her about that, but escalating a situation by calling someone who is simply ignorant does not help anyone. You are arrogant and cruel and someone, unfortunately me, has to speak to you about that before you go making more well intended people cry themselves to sleep.”

“She's old enough to know better. None of us are children, and I'm not going to coddle a bunch of Twos just because they were raised that way. It's not an excuse to disrespect someone in a lower caste. I don't care about ignorance.”

“So instead of try to help and understand another person you'd rather call them a bitch and make things worse? And she's 19 and extremely sheltered, I wouldn't say she's gained the wisdom to know any better. Also no one is asking you to coddle all I'm asking is for you to be fucking polite. You didn't have to assume I knew nothing of economic struggle, you didn't have to shove Emily around, slam a box into her and call her a bitch. There is a difference between not tolerating disrespect and acting disrespectfully back at another person.”

“I didn't slam a box into her.” Ava rolled her eyes knowing that was untrue, 

“So you didn't shove a box of cookies at her repeatedly? Because at least she handed them to your maid.”

“You're making it sound like I assaulted her. She's the one who barged into my room without asking.”

“Oh okay so if someone comes into my room and gives off bad vibes, I can shove things at them and call them a bitch. It's perfectly polite and respectful?”

“That wasn't the reason I did it!” God arguing with her is like talking to a child Ava thought. 

“It doesn't really matter the reason you did it. Because again, there is a difference between not tolerating disrespect and being disrespectful. You could have said "Hey Emily, that wasn't right. I know you didn't grow up that way but maids are people and need recognition in order for it to be polite" Instead you shoved a box at her, she tried again not knowing any better then you called her a bitch. Which by the way the whole thing could have been avoided if you'd just taken the damn present like a sane well mannered person.” 

“Okay, whatever. I'm sorry. But maybe she should've tried dealing with her problems instead of running away like a child.” 

“Not everyone's a stone cold ass who can handle being treated the way you treated her. She apologized and has spent the last thirty minutes crying to me about how horrible she feels. You didn't allow her an opportunity to realize what she had done wrong before being an aggressor. And I'm not the one you need to apologize too I'm just the one who has to clean up your mess.” 

“Why don't you just go back to your adoring friend and mind your own business, Ava? Just because you're famous, doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you. Get over yourself.” Hah! She’s telling me to get over myself? Clearly she hasn’t heard a word that’s come out of her mouth. 

“It doesn't matter if I'm famous or not I'd be in this room yelling at you just the same. I'm not even really friends with Emily, I just don't tolerate people being cruel and disrespectful especially ones I have to live with. Just because you're a three doesn't mean you know everything and you need to start thinking from other people’s perspectives!” 

“I never claimed to know everything, and I do think from others' perspectives, but excuse me if I don't listen to just another privileged Two who got her little feelings hurt.” She probably has no friends.

“You don't need to listen to Emily. Emily doesn't want anything from you. You need to listen to me. Since apparently the only perspective you think you can understand are lower caste people, as I've lived as a four the majority of my life I can tell you, you're not listening to anyone, you're only looking through your perspective, and you're hurting well intending people because you're one of the most casteist people I've met. I've said all I need to say. Sleep well in your rich bed with your maid next to you miss I-hate-privileged-people-and-am-going-to-lash-out-at-them-because-clearly-I-don't know who I am!” 

Ava groaned and turned around slamming the door behind her. She went back to her room and threw herself down in a chair where she would be sleeping through the night and prayed that Jen would be gone soon or she would. 

[secretkingdomjellyfish]

Another day, another penny...

Here we are again. Life has become even harder with COVID doing the rounds and offing every poor sod and his granny. I actually thought I had already witnessed or experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer but no, life and society continued to surprise me. From the hypocritical ‘clap for our carers’ movement (The same people who clapped where the same people in the supermarket the next day sneezing on your eyeballs - two meter rule, people!!) to our world leaders and celebrities telling the world ‘we are all in it together’ whilst they lounged in their 20 room mansions. It was all a bit...shallow. Every month is like opening the world’s shittiest advent calender only rather than getting a nice little piece of chocolate behind each window, we get some new unseen horror unleashed on us.

Then came the BLM riots. Another black man was killed by corrupt cops who gave absolutely zero fucks about him or anyone else. People were, entirely and justifiably, angry and the protests began but then something else happened. I had already seen this phenomenon slowly creeping it’s way in with COVID making the rounds but I just put it down to me being bitter and angry at life, therefore my perception of people (I had already set the bar WAAAAAY low) was skewed.

I saw people take advantage of an entire society’s grief. I saw the vultures circle to loot and hate or to share their idiologies of hate and pain and recruit more angry, tired teenagers to do their twisted bidding.

I saw both extremes of the coin take advantage of the situation to spread that same hate and lash out at the other side. ‘Don’t look at us, look at what the other side are doing!’ I heard them cry. ‘The people protesting are just violent thugs, look at them causing all this damage, how else are the police meant to act?!’. ‘It’s not us, we are just so tired of the police taking advantage of us and I REALLY need these new Nikes’.

But then there were the people in the middle. The people who just wanted real change. The people who just wanted the hate, the pain and the injustice to stop. Those people marched and protested and wanted their voices heard. Who were seeing what I and many others were seeing and wanted to restore the balance. Unfortunately they were quickly drowned out by the screeching of the two extremes and it became a game of ‘who could sling the most mud to deflect from their own actions’.

To say I’m sickened is an understatement. I’m embarrassed and I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed to even call myself a human being. My heart is utterly breaking at how broken we really are, how much trauma has been ignored and how easily we are influenced by shiny, new things. How the media continually drives us, like the herd animals we are, to consume, to buy, to hate others that are different to us. To make us think that our little tribe, family, race are the best and everyone else is wrong.

Do me a favour. Find a story. Any major story and then go read/watch/listen to several different news outlets (on both sides of the coin - you know who they are) and see how they report it. I can assure you, it will be like watching a different story altogether. Don’t get me wrong, they all have the very basic facts but they simply cater to their audience. No wonder people think they are right, they are surrounded by others who think the same way. They feel a kinship in a really scary world. The leaders (not the real movements, not the real game changers) take with one had and point with the other.

Plato had it right with his cave anology. Those shadows that the people can see are just that. Shadows. Boogymen. Nothing more than smoke and mirrors. I get that the world is scary, I get that we don’t understand even a fraction of how the world works and I understand so SO well that it feels good to find others who think the same way as you and even if you ‘see the light’ and see the world for what it really is, there are few who will listen to you. Most of us took the blue pill because the truth is just too painful to bear.

However, a new pattern has emerged here. A much more dangerous way of thinking. We just don’t allow ourselves to be wrong, it physically hurts! Everything we do is so emotional today. Everyone just wants to think emotionally rather than taking all of three seconds to think about something logically and rationally.

Society is full of adult toddlers who have a tantrum when they are challenged. Rather than giving them our time, we should be giving them a sippy cup with chocolate milk and a nap. I get it, it feels bloody good to scream and be angry. To blame someone other than yourself or your leaders for the life you have lived. All those missed chances? Not your fault, not your parents or your leaders fault. It was those pesky (insert blameless minority here)

Now I can already hear many of you shouting ‘I hear you lamenting but I don’t hear you coming up with any answers’ but the solution is simple. The implementation is incredibly complex and difficult and (unfortunately I believe it is also impossible but I’m praying I’m wrong) will require everyone to do their part but the answer is so SO simple. Equality.

I don’t mean the bullshit ‘everyone should be treated the same’ that’s not equality. I’m saying EVERYONE should be given the same chances regardless of their race, gender, sexuality, sex, wealth. Instead, the world is incredibly unbalanced and unequal and I have strong feeling that mother nature is about to shift it back into balance because she is a bad bitch who is fed up with us just taking but not giving back.

In my teens I went through a phase (I can hear the sniggering in the back). I found wicca (I can now hear louder sniggering). Now this phase lasted about 6 months and generally involved me wearing a lot of black, buying some coloured candles and generally trying out some cool spells because I could now do motherfucking magic biatches! But, soon enough, it fissled out and I got bored and moved onto something else (mainly the grunge scene - they, just, like...got me, you know?). But, I took one of my very core beliefs away from it. As at the heart of this beautiful religion it was all about balance. Whatever you took, you had to give back and EVERYTHING came back threefold - you had pay the dammed ferryman (you always have to pay eventually and not always in the ways you expect) . So, you sent out good vibes? You got those good vibes magnified right back atcha! Kind of a witchy butterfly effect.

Furthermore (check me out with the academic phrasing..eh? eh?!) many of followers of Wicca believed that their main deity was simply like a multi faceted diamond with many faces and each aspect simply reflected a different religion, deity or belief system and that she was always with them no matter what deity they believed in. (disclaimer - It’s been a long time since I was involved in this so if I’m wrong, please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies) but, again, it kinda made sense to me at the time (and still does). When I first started, it was new, it was different and it gave me purpose but then the glamor kinda got scraped off and I actually had to do some hard work and, being a teenager, I was just not into that.

Now I know many of you are asking ‘what the hell has this got to do with the price of cheese’ but bear with me because the answer is, again, relatively simple.

It’s all about balance. We have taken but not given back for so long. As a society we think that being successful is hoarding as much wealth as possible, drinking champagne and eating caviar whenever we feel like it, occasionally giving a few quid to charity to show that ‘we’re in this together’ because that is what the media have us believe. That it’s the ULTIMATE goal to have your own private jet and generally just whittle your life away doing nothing but pamper yourself.

We think the only way to achieve this is to take it by force. To be ruthless and cutthroat and step on as many heads as we can to get to the top, right?! That’s always been the way it was done!

However, that might have worked for a while but, as a society we have kinda went full circle and are right back at the start - openly rejecting facts and evidence for emotion (well it feels better to believe in x therefore it must be x) and anecdotal evidence (if you crack an egg at the fulll moon whilst hopping on one foot, you will totally get rid of that cancer - it totally worked for a friend of a friend so it must be true).

Right now the world is a giant carnival game and we all know those carnival games are rigged as shit. Step right up, Steeeep right up! Come along, try your luck! Why you look like an amazingly (add appropriate adjective here) individual, I bet YOU could win - not like any of these other chumps. The whole thing is rigged in favour of the wealthy and powerful and, in all honesty, I completely understand. It’s in our very nature.

It’s been so insidiuous and we have been bombarded so much with this message that we now have an entire generation of very broken and exhausted individuals who think that surviving and living are the same thing. News flash. They’re not.

This is why we are in the situation we are in. We have simply been sleep walking and ignoring what is right in front of us. In order to move on, we need to accept some really hard truth and take a long, good look at who we are as both individuals and as a society. Honestly? I don’t think we are ready for that yet the other two options are to continue the way we are going and let mother nature do her thing or simply destroy ourselves in the process. We are quickly running out of options and I REALLY don’t want to be the guy who said ‘I told you so’.

Now before anyone starts with the whole ‘you’re so wrong because (insert appropriate defense here) just stop and think for three seconds. Let that knee jerk reaction go and give it time to sink in. Even read it again if you have the attention span to do so and then think. Is he really wrong? Maybe the truth just hurts.

TL;DR - society is really broken and there’s no easy fix.

#wtf #covid #blm #hardchoice #depression #anxiety #currentaffairs

[musingsofamurderess]

Idealist Communism = Idealist Free Market System

Please see my political viewpoints picture AND read its caption so you can get the context for this OPINION/VIEWPOINT PIECE, please.

I don't often discuss politics so.... I'm sorry, you probably won't like what I have to say but perhaps this might bring you to better understand and respect that when we oversimplify political goals and beliefs using party system labeling, we pigeonhole ourselves into losing sight of goals by overfocusing on our differences in methodology. We are all human, after all.

Just want to add how it might change how you look at this scale knowing that I think free market and laissez faire capitalism both would also ideally have plenty of opportunities to provide services for those in need through charitable organizations, and without the added cost of increasing government debt/costs of the modern idealist communist model that seems very popular at the moment.

All it takes for a true free market to help provide for its people would be good hearted people of means giving back to their own communities. There are tons of awesome charities out there, if only we could convince the vast majority of rich people to stop being so mf selfish. I feel like part of why they are is that they feel like they're already paying takes toward the government helping out the homeless and those in need of food, childcare, and other basic services. Maybe if services were local and privatized the wealthy could actually feel good about helping those in need instead of feeling obligated and forced into it by the government. Just my thoughts.

I feel like the modern ideas of both idealist free market and idealist communism have the same goals but disagree in one fundamental way. Idealist free market views fellow humans as innately good enough to choose to share their wealth with those in need. Communism, and all government systems with social services paid for by the people via taxes to some extent, views humans as innately bad enough to require government intervention to take enough money from the wealthy so that the poor can also live happy lives. Class power struggles aren't helped by government intervention, in my opinion, they are precisely caused and exacerbated by it, hence my answer.

The core differences between Democrats and Republicans remains the same for me, Democrats think the government is the solution, Republicans think the government is the problem. You may disagree with me and my idealist principles, but a I'm not afraid to say that I believe in the goodness of people. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. All governments are at risk of corruption simply because they are instruments of power.

I listen to and agree with a lot of good points in idealist communism, I just see the same result coming from a system with no government, or one so limited that all it provides only extremely limited judicial services based on one simple set of human rights and administrated by a idealist system of people who hold no power or title for doing so, like the jury system....I'm no expert so forgive me for not being able to design the perfect minimalist government all by myself but you can see, if you're reading with an open mind, that the idealist minimalist government I'm imagining is basically the same thing as an idealist communist government body. So you see why I think the party system is bunk bc most PEOPLE want the same thing, all our basic human rights with minimal government involvement.

I'm not afraid to say it. All government totally sucks, and power over other people is dangerous, but people are not inherently bad.

AN AFTER NOTE TO MY FRIENDS ON THE IDEALIST COMMUNISM SIDE

I think this understanding (above), has been fundamental in our respect of each others' differences in politics from very early on. My apologies for not putting it into coherent words till now. I know we agree in the goals department, and that's what matters.

Our concerns over what elements of government to fear is what's different and methodology to fix it based on that. You're concerned that the government needs enough money to help people, I'm concerned that that money and power to do so is too much and leads to corrupt and overpowerful governments. I'm concerned that people being forced to give money to the government is a violation of their rights, you're concerned that that means that the rich and powerful could just hoard their money and choose not to help other people in need.

And they do, I get it, but not all of them do and if society can change enough that the rich can learn to be better for the sake of humanity, whether by donating to charity or the government, I think either way we would both get what we want.

Feb 24 2020

[riv-kai]

Hope everything is going well for you these days. What with the mass panic and virus mess.

Thank you so much my Anon friend, I feel like this is meant to be because I haven’t known where or how to share the thoughts I’ve been having, so thank you for checking up on me and giving me a reason to speak up.

Before you read on, I want you to know I’m fine and I’ve been through much worse before this, I know this is just temporary so I haven’t given up hope. And I don’t expect anyone to reply or read this, I’m just giving my thoughts a voice so I don’t make myself feel worse by keeping it inside.

———

I’m having trouble communicating how this time period feels. Not everyone knows this, but I have multiple chronic illnesses, and have had them for all of my life after a medical-related injury that weakened my immune system at 18 months old. This allowed Lyme disease and co-infections (passed down from a parent who was unaware they had it) to come out of dormancy and take over my body in a time of immune weakness. From then on, it got worse and worse until it fully hit me when I got food poisoning and H1N1 in the same couple of months in middle school. At 16, after what felt like a full life of struggling to survive, I was finally diagnosed with Lyme disease. This means it was chronic, because hello, I have been on more antibiotics than my whole family combined and that didn’t even TOUCH it despite the CDC’s claims that a 30 day round should do it. I still had lyme spirochetes in my blood at 18 and a relapse I had to treat at 23 after aggressively treating Lyme and it’s co-infections for 9 years. Nine. In a youthful, fast-recovering body. The US government is the only country that no longer recognizes this disease to be “chronic,” claiming it’s a residual “post-lyme disease syndrome” as an excuse to say we don’t want to study your complex chronic disease and would prefer it didn’t exist because it’s a business obstacle for us. And despite having proof of the pathogen in my blood chronically, they won’t acknowledge its existence all because of some petty controversies and that we are now a liability to them. They won’t make insurance pay for your perplexing and unpredictable disease... if doesn’t exist to them. When their treatments don’t work and we are no longer profitable to Big Pharma, we are erased and become part of a silent epidemic. At the end of the day, all they had to do was be honest, even just with the fact that they haven’t researched enough to understand the big-scary-bug. But of course that’s a big ask from a big system.

At my very best, my body can’t work or live like abled bodies can, and if I force myself to (because I desperately want to) I always crash and burn. All because of pathogens. And I don’t want you to fear pathogens or give me a pity party. I’m someone who says fuck the system and believes I can continue to heal despite so many doctors giving me bad news throughout my childhood. I’ve already beaten the odds and am proud of it, so this isn’t about me. Right now, I just want someone out there to see what is happening surrounding another pathogen and to pay attention.

I never expected the whole world to understand any bit of how it feels to be at the mercy of a pathogen. Some people will act like you’re being dramatic, faking it, or that “even if it is bad, it’s not that bad because only the weak people die.” Listen, even if you don’t die (I barely survived a few times) that mindset totally discounts the trauma and suffering that lives with you forever. It doesn’t matter if you don’t die. This shit sucks. So now, I’m grappling with many things: wanting to help people through the beginning stages of processing this despite being decades ahead in processing it and sick of thinking about it, being wholly frustrated with those who STILL openly treat disabled people as expendable goods instead of human beings, and ultimately feeling like even if I did explain, it might only make people feel hopeless. However, these are all fear-based thoughts.

The truth is that I know what I’ve experienced for the past 24+ years, even if no one else ever can understand it or believe me, and these experiences helped me understand how pathogens and infections work from an emotional and mental level, not just what it physically does to your body. And I want to help somehow, so I’ll share what I can for now.

If nothing else, I want you to only take away this — pathogens are also living things. I don’t care if I sound crazy, wholly realizing this helped me end that nine year treatment battle with Lyme disease (even if I’m still working on handling the destruction it left behind).

An infection is just as much a mental and emotional battle as it is physical. These pathogens do not have the ability to understand that they are killing the hosts they need to survive and reproduce, they just take take take. I feel like we can all sense this beneath the surface. This microscopic expression of selfishness is a source of the deep, out of control, primal urgency we’re feeling. I’ve felt it before, and they are never the only ones acting out. And this is really important — we have to stop mimicking the pathogen’s behavior in response to its behavior, trampling over each other in fear and hoarding chunks of this world’s wealth/goods that are too big for us to hold in the name of “survival.” Or pretending the outside world doesn’t exist, that “you’ll be fine, so it doesn’t matter if I go out” and spreading sickness to others. This is an exact parallel to what the pathogen behaves like.

I need you all to care with me about fellow human beings. That is our strength as a species, and we are not pathogens so we don’t have to stoop to their level. Get your helping pants on. Tell someone you love them, and spend some time with them to distract or calm their anxieties. Stay home as much as possible and fight for those people who can’t go out or people who are forced to stay in, even if they want to.

And then I need you to hold our government and long-broken medical system accountable. Please, don’t let them brush their wrongdoings over this time, now that their behavior is out in the open. Don’t let them forget what they’re doing, who they are turning away, who they are making us believe are just “a few numbers.” Don’t let this pathogen take you down mentally, either. Even if you get sick, even in a mild case, and it effects you mentally on top of physically, you are not crazy. What traditional medicine tends to neglect is that these pathogens get into your head (trust me) and it’s important to realize that so you know it’s not something you’re making up. It’s not your fault. It’s not wrong to feel hopeless or shattered or depressed or unlike yourself when you get sick, you are just ill. You need help. Deserve it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Take it seriously, but don’t let it take over you. This is a delicate balance and you may waver from one side to the other, but I promise it’s possible to both care and not submit to fear. Pathogens feed off of “weak” openings, and so fear and stress before you even have it is the last thing you need. Btw, no one is truly “weak,” even if you go through moments of weakness. This idea of strong vs weak is just how primal thoughts work, and pathogens are very primal so I’m explaining through their instinctual “perspective” as a species.

And I’m not sure what I can do about this, but I don’t want more people to live like I did growing up. I want people to see what I’m seeing now, decades later, that there is actually hope. There is more to society than a government that treats its people like business deals. We are more powerful than we feel. We are capable of fully caring about each other, even if it’s just through one anonymous message on the Internet.

———

I’m sorry if this made no sense, especially in response to an anonymous message, but thank you again for being here. I hope you are staying indoors if you can, and are safe and healthy to the best of your ability. I know it’s hard even if you are healthy, and there is so much that can feel out of our control in response to illness, but what’s new and a possible hope for me is that we are not alone in this experience this time. I hope you can feel the love even from miles away, I’ll try to make an extra effort to show I care.

[copperbadge]

Infinity War: A Review As Long As The Movie Itself

Okay, so I saw Infinity War a second time and most of my thoughts were unchanged plus I had one cool new one, and I have had a lot more sleep now than I had in the early part of the week. So I think now I’m good to talk about it. 

This is mostly a series of observations rather than a coherent review. Spoilers, very obviously, below the cut. If you are on mobile and can’t see a cut below before a massive wall of text, please scroll fast if you don’t want to be spoiled. 

1. I mentioned this before but this movie does feel like a series of video game cut scenes. Part of that is visual -- more than any other MCU movie, there are times when Infinity War is an animated film. There are a lot of moments where it’s just straight-up CGI with maybe Josh Brolin’s eyeballs. The two most noticeable ones are Thanos waking up with the soul stone and Thanos and Iron Man fighting on Titan, probably because Thanos is, uh, he’s not always very convincingly animated and the new model for Iron Man is a bit on the uncanny-valley side (the head in particular is weird). 

But also, there is so much to cram into the movie that every scene has to dump a lot of info pretty quickly. Which is not necessarily bad -- they do it very deftly -- but it means we get a series of tastes rather than a good main course. We get hints of where Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha have been, but no real information, and it’s treated as if it’s basically irrelevant. We see Wanda and Vision in a secret-romance situation, but we never really see anything about why their relationship works or how they got there. The same with Peter and Gamora. There’s been bedrock laid down for these relationships in previous films, but there’s no building on that bedrock. And when you get to non-romantic relationships that gets even thinner because it’s difficult to no-homo a male friendship in the time allotted and 90% of the characters in these movies are male so there’s a shitload of relationships that fall by the wayside. 

I had some interesting conversations about how Peter Parker’s death scene was really dramatic and carried a ton of impact for Tony, and that’s good, but that is a scene I think Bucky and Steve should also have gotten and couldn’t because the no-homo in a very obviously parent-child relationship is much easier to convey. (Also because of a later point I’ll get to, see 10, where Tony and Peter in the Death Scene have to stand in for literally every other relationship.) 

2. A thirtysomething heterosexual white boy mad about his girlfriend doomed half the universe. Peter Quill’s lack of self-control indirectly caused the death of trillions when he punched Thanos, and that’s all I could think about during that scene. It’s so funny and so unfunny at the same time, because while it’s a (perhaps unintended) commentary on a lot of recent mass violence in America I am 100% sure that he will not suffer consequences for it. I mean, yes, he’s dead as a consequence, but LBR he’s not staying dead and when he’s back alive again he will suffer no ill will from anyone lasting longer than five minutes of Tony yelling, maybe. 

Also, I get that Thanos is big and strong but surely cutting his arm off would have been faster than pulling the glove off. I would imagine there are all kinds of arguments against it (he can still control it if his hand’s still in it, cutting his arm off would wake him, etc), but I’m pretty sure “narrative necessity” is the top one. 

3. I’m uncomfortable with all the Holocaust-y blown-to-ash imagery in the Death Scene following hard on the heels of, and then being followed itself by, a bunch of scenes that really seem to want to make us sympathize with the person who caused it, including one where he walks on water. (I can already hear people saying “It’s dust not ash” and that’s a conversation people can have if they want but in a moment that Gamora explicitly describes as a genocide in which trillions of people die because of a so-called lack of resources, which was, you know, a real Hitler talking point in the thirties, I’m not only reading it as ash, I’m reading it as a very specific kind of ash, and that’s not gonna change.) 

There is so much time spent on trying to make Thanos sympathetic in this movie. I get that they want him to come off as if he believes he’s the hero, because that’s basic good-villain writing 101. But less sympathy for the devil could have allowed room for the actual heroes to get some more character development. Thanos is so ludicrously over-powered by the time we meet him that I don’t really give a shit why he does what he does, and if the story IS a commentary on the brutality of genocide, then like, we don’t really want to be sympathizing with the guy committing it.

But because of all this, what I am hoping for in part two is a real hardcore demonstration of how evil he truly is to balance how sympathetic they tried to play him here. We see hints of his monstrosity under a veil of self-assumed virtue in this movie, occasionally. There’s the torture of Nebula, of course, and Eitri’s hands are also evidence. We have enough to see that he’s not just a crusader, he’s also able and eager to torment and maim. So I’m hopeful for more of that and less of his Purple Man’s Burden in part two. 

Related to this is a scene where Thanos says one thing that I think is really vital to his monstrosity, though I doubt this was intentional: he says it will be an objective genocide, “Rich and poor alike.” Really, we know that wealth causes excess consumption and hoarding of resources; you don’t have to kill half the population to balance its resources. You just have to kill the richest. However you feel about capitalism or wealth accumulation, whether you think killing the rich is justifiable, if you’re going to just slaughter a bunch of people in order to fix shit, you slaughter fewer for a much higher ROI if you slaughter the rich. That’s just....accounting. And the fact that Thanos doesn’t acknowledge this says to me that at the end of the day he wants the power of life and death, and he has no justification for it. But the problem is that I don’t believe the writers examined that line themselves or even thought of it, which makes me worried about whether we will get an expression of Thanos’s evil without a justification of his actions in part two. 

4. I’ve never seen Peter Dinklage in anything other than this, and after seeing the film for the first time I asked a friend, “IS he a terrible actor in everything? I didn’t think so, people seem to like him, but he’s dreadful in this.” The second time round, it was pointed out to me that they’re artificially slowing his voice, which makes him seem ludicrously overacted. Sorry, Peter Dinklage, I misjudged you, and this movie done wrong by you. 

5. Normally I don’t fully enjoy Rocket in the Guardians movies because there’s just a lot of him and the 2-3 jokes (what is he, he likes to murder, he’s a jerk) get old fast. I enjoyed him in this, because he got what I feel is the appropriate amount of screen time vis a vis the rest of the movie, and also Bucky picking him up was super funny. 

6. Bucky’s face when he sees the arm and asks where the fight is, weep loudly if you agree. Sebastian Stan can say more with his face than some actors can with a full on monologue. Also I am writing a fanfic about Bucky’s time on a Wakandan farm, working title: “My Dumb Goats.”

7. Literally nobody saw Sam Wilson die and I’m circulating a petition about it. Come on, at least give him a witness. Fuck. I think Sam’s death actually hit me the hardest because there wasn’t even anyone there to say goodbye to him. 

8. I gasped when Red Skull pulled his cowl down, oh my Jesus what a moment.

9. The first time I saw Captain America: Winter Soldier, when Bucky stood up without the mask, a woman behind me said, “Oh my god, it’s his BEST FRIEND,” with amazement in her voice. Watching Infinity War, when Gamora started going off about how Thanos doesn’t love anything, the guy in the seat next to me said, “Oh no, IT’S YOU.” I sometimes really enjoy going to movies surrounded by people who aren’t in fandom and don’t read subtext as quickly as fandom does. 

10. Here’s my new theory that is maybe not new and has been super obvious to everyone else forever. Preface: it’s not that I didn’t know Iron Man is in a shitload of the Marvel movies, or that I didn’t find that significant. We know that “I am Iron Man” is frequently considered the start of the MCU timeline even though Steve Rogers was the first avenger, and the first Iron Man film is iconic within the MCU (though they have never gone back to it for visual or thematic inspiration which is frustrating). 

But it seems really evident now, having seen part one of two and having seen Tony Stark in it, that not only is this “his” film in many ways, but the MCU to date is Tony Stark’s saga. Maybe I’m just slow to pick this up, but when he says Thanos has been in his head for six years, it was an indicator -- inadequate, see my Cut Scene theory, but still, it made me realize -- that the Avengers films and even many of the character films post-Avengers (Civil War and Homecoming, most obviously) are the story of Tony’s struggle with the shadow of Thanos up through his face-to-face confrontation with him. 

Like, we’ve seen that it’s something Tony grapples with, but I hadn’t realized that grappling was the entire point. In Age of Ultron, Ultron actually become a macguffin, he becomes a secondary indicator of Tony’s obsession with Thanos rather than a villain in his own right, which almost makes me want to watch that movie again even though I hated it. The vision of death and destruction Wanda gives Tony is Thanos-driven, and all his actions in every film post-Avengers are motivated by his fear of and antipathy for Thanos, even if he doesn’t yet know his name or face. And this is why Strange gives up the Time stone to save Tony, because that one win in fourteen million losses depends on Tony Stark. 

This is also why Peter Parker and Tony get a lot of time to bicker like family about nothing in particular throughout this film, leading up to the one true dramatic death scene in the Death Scene -- because for time’s sake they could really only pick one death to fully engage with, and it had to be the one affecting Tony, and we had to see them bonding to see WHY it affected Tony. He’s got to be the one to end Thanos, one way or another, and will likely be some form of uniting factor among the surviving heroes in the climax of part two. Which, I have a significant level of admiration for how deftly that process has taken place, even if I know that it will 99% likely lead to Tony’s permadeath in part two. 

It also makes me wonder about RDJ’s guiding hand in these films. I’m given to understand that even on movies where he’s not producer he often brings in his own script doctors to ensure he’s getting the best possible role he can get. I wonder if he and Kevin Feige had some kind of offer-you-can’t-refuse meeting once it became evident that the franchise was going to really come together as a single, if heavily branching, narrative. It also makes me wonder how much of the “RDJ is the Godfather of the Marvel Universe” we’ve seen in recent media is a talking point the actors were given in their press-interview briefing packets. 

11. Okay in the credits at one point it says “Character from Arrested Development courtesy of 20th Century Fox.” What....is up with that? What character? I don’t watch the show. 

12. SUPER EXCITED FOR CAROL DANVERS IN A GENERAL SENSE AND ALSO SEVERAL SPECIFIC SENSES. 

So those are my thoughts. Go ye and engage with them, I guess. :D

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