#because my very first instinct was to defend myself and my actions

[bilesproblems]

Hey uh, please don’t use “bi lesbian” to mean “mspec lesbian”, as UN umbrella term. That’s honestly *really* shitty. If you mean bi lesbians, talk about bi lesbians, and if you mean all mspec lesbians, say “mspec lesbian”. Signed, a pan lesbian.

Apologies. I used "bi lesbian" to talk about the larger community because it's a more well known term but you're right, not all mspec lesbians are bi lesbians and I should use mspec lesbian when talking about the whole community.

I didn't think about it before at all but I'll try to do better. I might mess up while I'm breaking the habit but I'll do my best to keep what you said in mind and make more of an effort to be inclusive of the entire community

And I'm sorry to anyone else who might've felt excluded or forgotten by me when I'd do this. I didn't mean to leave you out but I did and I'll do better, because all of you guys deserve better - the pan lesbians, the poly lesbians, the omni lesbians, the abro lesbians, the neptunic lesbians, and all other mspec lesbians.

Thank you for saying something - though it could have been more polite, I'm just as guilty if not more of being rude to people, and I did need it brought to my attention what I was doing wrong. Really. Thank you

[yazthebookish]

If your empathy fully goes out the window where your fictional favorite character and ship is concerned, then that's a red fucking flag.

If your first instinct is to invalidate someone's experience and imply they're lying because someone else through a burner account was telling them (the victim) they should've finished the job (since they admitted they were pushed to the limit) since it taints the image of your side, then it makes me think you have selective morals.

People got threats, including myself and my friends, from your side multiple times. Some of your friends publicly raved about drafting deat* threats to be sent to other people (me among them) and how it won't be their fault if su*c*de rates spike because they (us) deserve it for hating on their ship. Those are people in your circle, not random burner accounts. Those tweets are public. I don't know them but you probably do and know very well those things were said more than once. Screenshots are there if you'll claim these are lies, some of you even liked those posts while ironically claiming you're against people telling others to k themselves.

But doing it to a select few you dislike is fine, It's justified right?

None of you stood up and said this is wrong whenever this happened in the past multiple times, some of you even justify it which sends a clear enough message to all of us on where you stand on this.

You'll tell me this is about the shipwar? It's not about the fucking shipwar it's about YOUR ACTIONS. I went off on that anon blog who was reposting and mocking posts by Elriels despite getting a DM accusing me of supporting the blog. Some of my friends didn't support it either. No one knew who it was. If all I cared about was maintaining a perfect image of the side I'm in, I wouldn't have called that blog out for their behavior and get accused, on my side, of defending Elriels even though I owe the side that repeatedly harassed my friends and I nothing—but the right thing has to be done sometimes and lines must be drawn to keep this fandom safe for others.

But claiming someone is making this up to make you look bad? You don't really need her to do that you guys have done a good job of it yourselves.

Despite all of that, I genuinely don't wish this upon any of you, I truly don't I'm not that vile of a person and I'm not so disconnected from reality to wish harm upon someone because of fiction—while I remained silent on the fucked up shit people sent me or post across my platforms for the past two years and a half, my friends is where I draw the line.

Wishing harm on an actual person will never be okay, no matter how much this fandom tries to normalize it. People will argue, will dislike each other—this is normal. However, wishing harm upon a real person will never be okay.

I hope you have enough empathy one day to realize no person deserves this treatment and to stand against it. Not the person you're arguing with, not others you disagree with, and not even yourself. No one.

[lilac-udon]

oh no I’m clowning myself again

As a basil defender

Most people stand w sunny and how often I see online is “basil ruins Sunny’s life ” . Would argue sunny ruined his life unintentionally, and basil actively chose to jump into the water with him. I can imagine basil never think that far into the consequences of his actions but the first instinct is to help Sunny. I can’t understand why basil did what he did ,and for me I do felt it’s overkill. My explanation is the writer needs it to be this extreme to connect the plot(and shock value . If sunny and mari are both basils friends, I cannot think of why he would throw Mari into the bus like that(I’m saying, thinking mari is already dead, need to save Sunny, but not in the point or any idea of, saving mari. He see Sunny action , but on the other hand he accepts mari is dead already too quickly in my taste)(I mean I don’t understand basil a lot a lot, I just don’t make sense but also he probably get push to do something because he think he is the only one to rely on when Sunny is suffering at that moment,add the point of he never really have parents supervise him, I guess that add a possibility of him not seeking others (parental figure) help but trying to fix stuff on its own. I have theory of he mostly solve stuff on his own, and no one helps or guides him, and he might be the one taking care of his grandma more than his grandma taking care of him

(((no , I will tell u this, a lot of people don’t like to think about any reason for basil bc they “hate basil” . I read other ship involving sunny and see how many write basil should get hate by his actions))))(((not that u can’t hate a character but , write it from another character lens(besides hero), ok cool?) (ah I know I ask too much, cute ship fluff no canon involved because it’s too much sure whatever)

I want to point out how much he valued to “help ”Sunny in that moment than anything else. Even it’s a very very awful idea. But I also want to say, as passive as Sunny is, didn’t he also ruined basil life. And the lack of people see it this way just annoys me, what did you mean basil deserved it, where if basil never met sunny he could at least had a normal childhood ; but for Sunny , sunny still needs to face the reality of mari is gone, wether or not basil is there to help him “cover up ”?

I always see both of them are in the wrong, even though so many people see them as cute little meow meows , nooo . Especially sunny, sunny is passive, but he is not entirely blank(I don’t know how to explain but I always use “cute” to explain?) this is more of my taste I guess, but I really like to put Omori characters into sunny as well, I see omori as what he is thinking, sunny just has the issue to showing all those thoughts he have. They are good kids but sunny has this attitude (read Omori note) removing it from him making him so cute and eepy as soft is just not how I imagine sunny I guess; ; ( where is his dark thoughts and edginess?

Basil being overall kind ? Huh, there is also this very weird thing of Basil literally shut off himself to only interact with sunny a tiny bit. After the incident he cut off from most of his friends. I think I don’t know how to think about him because there is too little information then from Omori point of view of dream basil (I can believe omocat probably don’t know too or probably very simple but I or the fandom over complicated him) I just always felt he do favor sunny, but that also can be explained he doesn’t know what to do and can only open with sunny because sunny literally causes them both in the dumpster. Or can think as he IS really this kind, waiting for sunny to do something than just snitching sunny, you know if he hate sunny or anything, he can twist the story or just tell it before sunny think through his trauma but he didn’t

Also to point out, sunny at the end of the game did somehow get a conclusion of his thoughts but not basil, just pointing out, we don’t know how he feels, he probably has unresolved trauma +the guilt of hurting sunny, also we are not sure if he is ok sunny just spell the beans like that, he might just want to talk with sunny but haven’t prepared to share it w his friends yet so yeah, I hope they are on the same page (someone reminded me that his something disappeared , so they are both fine)

Add

So sunny eye, I always see it as an apology of ruining basils life, but most people think it’s too much

[crossdreamers]

Not all women menstruate. This is a fact. So why do women have to be defined by it?

Sara Rose Gibbs has published a very interesting thread over at Twitter on how she, as a non-menstruating cis woman was attacked by transphobes for daring to say the obvious: Not all women menstruate.

She writes:

I’ll never forget the first time I accidentally waded into a discussion on trans issues. It was a few years ago, I hadn’t really encountered the transphobic crowd before. Someone posted complaining about the term “people who menstruate” to describe, well, people who menstruate. 

The poster wanted to call them WOMEN. Embarrassingly, I knew very little about trans identities. So I wasn’t thinking about trans men or non-binary folks who might still have periods when I said I didn’t understand the problem with the term.

Not all women menstruate

I was thinking of myself - a cis woman who’s infertile. I thought it was both logical & inclusive to say “people who menstruate” because not all women do - & it can be very painful when people assume things about your reproductive system when it simply doesn’t work.

What followed completely shocked me. Suddenly my mentions were full of people screaming at me - awful things designed to cause maximum hurt. They called me a handmaiden, told me I was erasing women. One woman told me I was “divorced from my womanhood”.

Learning about transgender exclusion

So I looked into why they were saying these things. And that’s when I started to follow trans folks on here, watch trans YouTubers, start reading articles etc. I felt embarrassed that I hadn’t known what the discussion was about but also the bullying had been so intense, full on, cruel & personal that it left me in tears for days. And I’m a Jewish person on the internet. I thought I’d heard it all. I felt instinctively that it was important to defend whoever those nasty bullies were targeting. 

So trans people didn’t galvanise me into action, not initially. It was the transphobes. I may not have known anything about gender identity or transitioning - but I sure as fuck knew bullying when I saw it. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way. 

Follow up to thread

Just a follow up as this gained a lot more traction than I thought! The purpose wasn’t to centre myself (and I’m so so sorry if I came off that way) just to illustrate how the bullying mentality of that horrible movement is creating more trans allies than enemies.

Bit more context because it’s relevant - I think this was specifically in regards to some sort of workplace initiative for accommodations for people who menstruate. My point was if that survey had just gone out to women, that could have been distressing to people like me  as opposed to telling people that if you menstruate and want to feed back via this survey thing (if I’m remembering right) you can opt in, rather than have salt rubbed in the wound if it doesn’t apply to you or being left out if it does but you’re not a woman. Seems thoughtful.

Full thread here.

On how transphobes invalidate cis women

Note the way nearly all transphobes, to the right or to the left, insists on reducing a woman’s identity to bodily functions. This was the way traditionalists kept women under control in the 19th and 20th century. Women were nurturing life-givers, for sure, but they were also emotionally unstable, intellectually weak and unfit for positions of power, all because of their bodies. 

For some 200 years feminists have tried to get out of this body trap and show how women are the equals of men in any part of life.  But now, because of irrational transphobia, there are even women who try to reduce the worth of women to a fully functioning uterus, all in attempt to keep trans women out.  We see that this narrative also invalidates many cis women. This is truly sad.

Illustration by marzacz.

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Thus commences the last in the "Haru bugs FF about Milgram" series, with only two more characters to put on the table !! ...Huh? Ask in my inbox? What ask in my inbox, I have no idea what you're talking about !! Aha !! Ahahahaa !! (i swear i'm getting to answering it i'm sorry for the wait) The last two on the list is Green Anime Baby (/ref) and Schrodinger's Sexuality, both of which you have already talked about before but this can serve as an opportunity to say whatever else is on your mind regarding them

The end of an era, really. The final two people.

Take your time on my ask! It's pretty hard to get so many thoughts on these characters in words, because there's a lot to them, so.

CW: Internalized homophobia, suicide and murder, cults and indoctrination, child abuse, heavy Amane apologism.

EDIT: On second read, I may have come off a bit strong with the Amane apologism. Keep in mind most of it’s hyperbole. I recognize her actions are morally grey, that’s the fun of it, but this isn’t a serious analysis. This is a collection of brainrot, and so I’m letting myself indulge in mindless Amane apologism, hope it’s not too much of a bother.

Let's start with Kazui. The (allegedly) gay (possibly) aromantic old man. Yeah, the aro/gay reading has grown on me since I made that Cat post. Though I'm biased towards the aro thing for obvious reasons.

Anyways, I like him! For the final time there is the issue of sexual attraction being a decently big part of someone's character, and me not really being able to relate to that, but at least this one has the whole thing about lying and societal expectations which makes it a bit more interesting for me. I personally have never had any big issues with my sexuality after I figured it out, but I can sympathize with his struggles to an extent. More than I can sympathize with Mahiru anyways.

I am always inclined to like characters who lie a lot, because it makes them more interesting to analyze. I tend to prefer when they aren't constantly telling everyone they're a liar, but Kazui isn't as annoying about it as some other characters (if I can like Kokichi I'll survive Kazui's thing). Kazui is cool because there's always the tiny doubt in my mind that maybe we're making a horrible horrible mistake by voting him inno this trial, but the more logical part of me knows that really isn't the case probably.

Shame his songs aren't really my kinda thing. I like Cat well enough, and I think half is good too, they're just not what I usually listen to.

I think it's funny his first instinct in his first VD was to try and apprehend Es, very funny guy. In particular, I think one of the most hilarious things that I've seen from Milgram so far is when someone before the release of Cat shipped him with the bartender just so Milgram could have a "Gay or European" parody, which is great, watch it if you haven't, and then it became canon (in theory).

As you know, I'm currently voting him Innocent, not just because of the whole "defending the others" thing, but because he clearly regrets what he did, he didn't mean to kill Hinako in the first place, so while what he did was pretty shitty, I don't think it's completely unforgivable.

I'm honestly coming up a bit blank on what to say about him other than the stuff I've sorta already talked about. I'll talk about the interrogations later, because right now I'm sorta distracted... by her.

Look at her!!!!

Look at how silly she is!!! She is not mentally stable but she slays that insanity look!!!

There's more of them??? This is fantastic!!! I love that for her!!!

Look at how happy she is, going to commit first degree murder!!! Yes, go literally slay queen! Kill 'em! Make them suffer >:D!!

(That last image and her murder shot may be my favorite Milgram frames btw)

I love her a lot a lot. To make it clear to you, I like her about as much, if not even more, than Min. Yeah, that's the critical levels of brainrot we're dealing with here.

She's just so fantastic honestly. Her entire story and personality and capital S Silliness is just fascinating, I could think and talk about her forever. It's hard for me to put into words, because I think about her and I start vibrating. Hands are shaking because Amane too awesome.

Amane is the reason why I even got into Milgram in the first place, you know? Like, I was seeing it pop up around my dash every now and then, but I was content to kinda ignore it... until I started seeing fanart of this weird little girl standing in an army of clones, and she looked a little... a little silly you know? I wanted to see what the deal was, and so I started obssessing over Milgram, so.

And what a time to join. Purge March may not be my favorite song musically (it's probably fifth after Backdraft, MeMe, Harrow and Bring it On. Magic is a bit below that but I also like that one), but it's probably overall my favorite MV of the series. Amane's an incredibly interesting character, the visuals are awesome, and lyrically it's amazing. Literally my only complaint is that it isn't longer, like please under three minutes? The shortest fucking MV in the series?! Evil /lh

One of my favorite Milgram lines in general is:

After you cry, repent, and kneel, it’s now your turn to say that hopeless “I’m sorry” You’re sorry? I don’t care! Please, go ahead and die already!

Just the almost jarring shift from "like our religion ordains, everything will be back to normal if you just apologize and repent :)" to "I don't care what you do, I hate you and I want you dead" is fuckaingadjk yes Amane go go go kill 'em! I don't care if you try to excuse your actions by twisting your cult's teachings so much you actually contradict them! That just makes it even better!

Yeah my sense of morality cannot properly process Amane's crimes as actually evil. Honestly she could kill the entire cast and I'd forgive her. Sounds like a skill issue on their part not gonna lie. Just let her stab Shidou, come on! Let her brainwash Fuuta! If she has DID, then let one of the alters not afflicted by Milgram rules stab Es! I think that'd be very funny.

God, she's just asodak`+ anda alsldk

Sorry, I'm normal again <- Kazui-core statement (aka a lie).

Amane's just really awesome. I can't properly make a character analysis here because I will simply explode and I'd like to survive to see her third trial MV. I think I'll love it no matter what it is, but I do have some things I would particularly adore. Bassically I just want her to go feral, just- just go insane. My inner Veronika in full swing, I wanna see a play by play of her murder and just her covered in blood and screaming like yeah girl beat 'em up! I've seen some people suggest she should just turn into a monster in her MV and that would be so awesome. I am so immensely normal about her holy fuck do you understand.

Obviously I think she should be voted Innocent this trial. Because I'm pretty sure there's just no coming back from a second Guilty, so we're essentially dooming her and irreversably breaking her psyche. Shidou will probably survive any physical wounds she could possibly inflict, but I'm not entirely sure Amane would be able to recover after a Guilty. I also have a full draft talking about all the ways voting her Guilty just to protect Shidou could go wrong (Fuuta could attack in her place/there's a chance it wouldn't even stop Amane/Amane could sabotage medical equipment even while Guilty/Amane might still have the "first stage of physical restraints" from Trial 1 making a second Guilty redundant/DID could let her skip over the rules/etc). So overall I think Innocent is by far the better option, and I hope the way she's bleeding Inno percentage is some sort of statistical quirk and not her actually losing ground on absolute terms...

... But.

Listen, an inno is absolutely the best option in my mind. But if she gets voted Guilty, after I cry for a few months straight...

I am going to be so excited to see what she does in Trial 3. My inner Veronika coming out again, I wanna see how bad she gets. The more terrible and feral she becomes, I'll only love her more. I want to see all the horrible things she's willing to do and say without justification (/ref). God Kami-sama I need therapy.

Ehem. Anyways, I like Amane a lot.

And there's the dynamics, the dynamics! I've already brainrotted about her and Fuuta a bit on his post, but holy shit I love them so much. I want them to get out of Milgram and be silly together. They really are the siblings ever. Fuuta would introduce Amane to all sort of online and self-indulgent stuff she probably wouldn't have had access to before, helping her reconnect with her own desires and happiness, and Amane would try to get him to touch some grass and fail miserably. They are probably my favorite prisoner duo overall; they're both already silly on their own, and their silliness is multiplied exponentially when they are together.

Like, you gotta understand. It's not just that they are objectively hilarious together and they should hang out all the time always. There's also the parallels. Have you ever noticed how they both present themselves as heroes in their own ways (knight and magical girl)?

That they both want nothing more than to impress the very people who are pushing them to do bad things?

[Magic] I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile

[Backdraft] Tolerate, impress those spectators

The way Fuuta sees judgement as fire while Amane sees it as rain?

And justavs jas doj oq

God I am exploding I am going crazy like O2 I'm burning myself into oblivion I'm undeniably inequivocally definitely completely insane-

Okay I'm calm now. I need to stop thinking about 0308 parallels because I will simply combust. So we're moving on to-

Oh fuck the Es parallels too!

Amane: We’ve talked about this before. There are things more important than the law. That would be our teachings. Es: I won’t acknowledge you turning such selfish rules into a standard of judgment. I won’t allow it. End of story. A: … E: Both religion and faith are free. However, a doctrine can’t become a universal standard of judgment. A: You fool. Isn’t Milgram trying to enforce a new standard of judgment precisely because laws cannot guide this world onto the right path? Are you still being weighed down by the law?

E: Shut your mouth…! I am the one casting the judgements here! A: Hehehe. And how does that set you apart from us?

A: “We”? What’s “we”? Are you not just “I”? E: … I…? A: Aren’t we the same? Me and Warden-san. You know, I’m aware that I’m out of the ordinary. That my environment was peculiar, and that everyone else is normal.

What if I just ascend into another realm? What then? Can I still post my silly little thoughts from the world beyond?

Listen, there's so much to talk about with these two. I've already said I'm a sucker for protag foils, and Amane may be the most direct foil Es has alongside Fuuta and possibly Kotoko. Not to even mention their sibling dynamic, too, only matched in awesomeness by 0308!

E: No matter what you do, no matter how grown-up you behave – you’re a child. That’s an unchangeable truth. A: You’re a child, too! E: Wrong. I’m fifteen, so I’m an adult in Puerto Rico and Haiti. You’re twelve, so you’re a child no matter the country. A: …!! E: Hehe. You look angry. A: I don’t. E: You do. A: I don’t!

Actual sibling behavior what the hell. I think they should stick together if they get outta the hell prison.

Honestly it's ridiculous how awesome this girl is. I could talk about her and her parallels with all prisoners for days straight. I am not normal about her.

It's not even the prisoners either! Like, have you heard of the Sacred Texts, the godforsaken fucking cat parallels?! I'm going crazy just thinking about them. The only reason I haven't posted 15000 different posts about it is because Amane PhD haver Dr purgemarchlockdown has already talked about it so much. But they are so incredible. Animal cover goes hard, too. I have to listen to all of those at some point.

I will be so upset if she doesn't end up Innocent this trial (not as in mad, as in extremely depressed and a bit mad). I've even tried to cope by thinking of how it's mathematically possible she's actually been getting more Inno votes than Guilty but her percentage is dropping anyways due to statistical quirks and please tell me once the percentage stabilizes it will hover around like 53% give me some graphs I want to try to make some predictions please augh-

Anyways I need to calm down or I will never be able to post this.

So let's look at interrogation questions! New ones come out soon, yeah? I'm excited to talk about them when it happens (and after someone translates lol). Kazui first!

(T1) Q2: Is there anyone you hold in high esteem?

K: You wouldn't know them, but I have a childhood friend. I really look up to them. Sorry for bringing up someone you'd have no clue about.

(T1) Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow?

K: I would lazily do some fishing. My childhood friend who I talked about earlier has a boat.

Childhood friends to lovers AO3 tag is strong with this one huh. Hope his Trial 3 MV contains a scene of him fishing. It's just a funny image really.

(T1) Q3: If you were allowed to do anything, what would you want to do?

K: I'd like to live righteously.

(T1) Q4: Do you think that your family is proud of you?

K: No. They must find me embarrassing.

(T1) Q7: Do you like yourself?

K: I can't really say I do.

(T1) Q19: Do you want to be forgiven?

K: I'm not sure. I also want my weakness to be tolerated, to be honest.

Yeah, the (alleged) internalized homophobia is strong with this one, huh. I'm assuming that's what he's referring to when he says "weakness" unfortunately. I hope he gets therapy when he gets out of Milgram. But you can say the same about all the sillies I guess.

(T1) Q5: When you go to an amusement park, what do you like to ride?

K: The merry-go-round. I actually want to try riding on one.

What. Is this. Is this related to the merry-go-round in I Love You? Like Kazui wanting to try being in a relationship where the love is (somewhat at least) reciprocated? Will think on this more later. Maybe.

(T1) Q6: What is the difference between an adult and a child?

K: Responsibility. Adults can't just go and do whatever they want.

One day I'll start making posts about the prisoner pairs and this will come up in 0708 but I am currently unable to think more about Amane without imploding so.

(T1) Q12: What is the meaning of life?

K:I wonder what. If you find out, kindly come and tell this old man.

(T1) Q14: Do you listen to music?

K: Well, a decent amount. I'm sure you wouldn't know them because they're all old songs.

Why does my guy always talk like he's about to die from old age. Dude you're not even 40 you have literally half (song reference hah) of your life left at least, at least try to live it you know?

(T1) Q15: When do you wake up/go to bed?

K: Because I don't have a job now, I'm letting myself act freely. I sleep whenever I get sleepy, and get up before noon.

I've always wondered about this one. Retirement for police officers in Japan is around 60 years usually, so there's gotta be some other reason my guy's unemployed. That's assuming he was a police officer, since I've seen some dispute the claim, but I think it makes sense. Did he quit after Hinako's death? Something happen before it? It's really peculiar, especially because we don't really get any reference to this in either half or Cat from what I can see.

(T1) Q16: Do you believe in past existences and fortune-telling?

K: I don't. I can't shift to them the responsibility of what happens in life.

Oh you mean like how Amane pretends her murder was ordained by God even though her cult would very clearly disavow her killing anyone or anything because of the whole "follow thine destiny" thing? Curious.

Alright now get ready for me to analyze literally every single Amane question out of principle.

(T1) Q1: Do you have any special skills?

A: Nothing that I can call a talent. Perhaps studying. I do well in my Japanese class.

Does murder count as a special skill? Because I think she's actually decently good at it. Her studiousness is obviously caused by the whole cult thing, but good on her for being good at Japanese! Couldn't be me.

(T1) Q2: Is there anyone you hold in high esteem?

A: My father. My father has been on a journey for a while, but that is something very honorable.

I've always wondered how the father thing plays into her story, there hasn't been too much reference to him yet. There is the second voice reveal trailer thing, but honestly I'm not too sure what to make of it honestly.

(T1) Q3: If you were allowed to do anything, what would you want to do?

A: Nothing really. I am not lacking anything.

Alright you lying liar.

(T1) Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow?

A: If everything ends? Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

I fucking love characters who lie to themselves yes fucking inject that shit in my soul-

(T1) Q4: Do you think that your family is proud of you?

A: Of course. No daughter is as exemplary as I.

(T1) Q13: Who do you want to meet right now?

A: My father. I want him to praise me for working hard.

Her (allegedly) dead mother staring at her from hell like ಠ_ಠ

One day I'll make a post about how it's possible everyone in Milgram's just dead and Amane got killed by her father when he returned home and that's how she ended up in Milgram and I'll be sad.

(T1) Q5: When you go to an amusement park, what do you like to ride?

A: That is a place I should not go to.

I hate her cult so bad. I imagine that would be obvious, but I'll say it anyways.

(T1) Q6: What is the difference between an adult and a child?

A: There is no borderline there. I think there are grown-up children and childish grown-ups.

She had to grow up so fast I'm fucking depressed. Also ngl "childish grown-ups" is kinda based I think Amane should just insult people more often it's very awesome of her.

(T1) Q7: Do you like yourself?

A: I have never considered it from the perspective of love and hate, but I do think I am a good child.

Ouch. Ouchie ouch ouch.

(T1) Q8: Between ethics and emotion, which do you prioritize?

A: Both are trivial.

"Throw down, ethics is a delusion"~

This is honestly just a really funny answer. I get why she's saying it (common ethics and her own emotions are not as important as her cult's teachings in her eyes), but there's always a bit of hilarity that ensues when you say "ethics are trivial." Amane should honestly be allowed to violate Geneva conventions, I think the world would be better if she did.

(T1) Q9: Tell me what your family consists of.

A: It was my father, my mother, and I.

Was, huh. Wonder what happened there (murder happened there (allegedly)).

(T1) Q10: Is there any prisoner you're close with?

A: If I were to say, I guess it would be Yuno and Mahiru.

And then she wasn't! Kami-sama that first trial aftermath was a warzone.

(T1) Q11: What kind of meat do you like?

A: I don't eat meat.

The part of me that loves body horror sorta wants Amane to be shown eating her victim in Trial 3 to really drive home how 'this is not what the cult wants her to do'. Is that not a normal thing to say? It makes me sound completely fucking unhinged? Oops. Anyways.

(T1) Q12: What is the meaning of life?

A: I think it is something you learn for the first time when you look behind yourself when it ends. I do not want to have regrets then, so I live on with all my might.

Sometimes (a lot of the time) I think about Amane when she grows up and hopefully is out of her cult's control, and how she'll feel about the first 12 years of her life. I hope she and Shidou make up.

(T1) Q14: Do you listen to music?

A: Not really, to songs that are highly entertaining.

I headcanon that if the prisoner's listened to each other's songs, Backdraft would be Amane's favorite because it's exciting and she likes Fuuta.

(T1) Q15: When do you wake up/go to bed?

A: I go to sleep at 9PM, and wake up at 6AM.

She sleeps for nine hours a night? This is the healthiest sleep schedule I've ever seen in my entire life the fuck is this. I get this is because of the cult thing, so I think my girl should get to do a sleep-over with some of the other prisoners eventually, but still.

(T1) Q16: Do you believe in past existences and fortune-telling?

A: Although there are many fake ones.

How do you think Amane would react to Mikoto's tarot thing? I can't think of anything funny to say so I'm just not gonna address the question.

(T1) Q18: Do you regret your "murder"?

A: No. It was a natural obligation.

So true bestie, kill the bitch. I will live up to my name as the Local Amane Momose Apologist, I want her to kill everyone that's ever hurt her (not the audience obvs).

(T1) Q19: Do you want to be forgiven?

A: Of course. I anticipate that you will make the right judgment.

Come on, how can you disappoint her again? Vote her inno, she deserves it.

(T1) Q20: Any complaints about being imprisoned?

A: No. Because this is a trial by God.

Reason #543785478 why voting her inno is the better option: there is zero chance she sees a second Guilty as anything but another trial she must endure, so she'll only cling harder to her faith and I seriously worry we might not be able to get her back by the time Trial 3 rolls around.

Okay brainrot over. I'll be surprised if anyone survives that amount of insanity but here we are. Thanks for all the asks! And excited to see what you're cooking on your end. Take care!

[navree]

Your first theory sounds more realistic - Aegon and Visenya, who’s relationships considered never warm, probably had an argument/fight and she said some horrible things (honestly, all her comments in the book are kinda vile and envious so no surprise here).

And I don’t think Aegon ever liked her. But could you blame him? Visenya’s personality is not very likeable, with her being stern and serious most of the time, she sound a lot like Stannis Baratheon and it’s not the kind of a person someone would like to be around. And Aegon seems like a no bullshit person and so I don’t think he would go along with her actions.

follow up to this

See now you're putting me in a tough position here because Stannis is one of my favorite guys in ASOIAF, I love him very much and I can, have, and will continue to talk about him ad nauseam until I am forcibly stopped.

I don't think Aegon and Visenya having a blowout argument where hurtful words are exchanged that worsens any rift that was growing between them is out of bounds. It's actually something I've floated for myself, as a subset of my own theory, that in grief they said harsh things that they've never taken back and it did worsen what was going on between them. They don't necessarily need to have a prior bad relationship for there to be a falling out that they couldn't recover from, especially in such a high stress environment like the First Dornish War.

Listen, I've always said, and I will continue to always say, that I will not knock on anyone's headcanons, especially when it comes to the Conquerors, who we know frighteningly little about as people. And if there are people who view their story the same way that it's been viewed throughout most of Westerosi history and run with that, then that's fine by me, great, go forth and go nuts, there's good content to be mined from that. But it's not going to be something I subscribe to myself. It's also just that simply, as a writer, I've always felt "woman scorned" to be an exceptionally boring trope. Of all the things that can be done with Visenya and Aegon and Rhaenys as people, and with their interlocking relationships, having it just be that Visenya was a jealous hag who hated everyone and who everyone hated right back just feels simplistic and lazy compared to any other possible option. It's not something I'd find narratively compelling on a character or story level, and if this were a narrative proper and that was what they went with, I'd be sorely disappointed.

I also don't think we can just categorically proclaim that Visenya and Aegon never liked each other. We know Visenya at least supported him publicly, that she crowned him as king herself and was an active participant in the Conquest (she was literally injured in battle for it), continued to support the realm even as their relationship worsened, she defended him fiercely whenever his life was in danger, especially during the Dragon's Wroth, to the point of forming the Kingsguard herself to protect him, and even after he was dead, she still offered advice and counsel to Aegon's son by Rhaenys even if she thought he was a bad fit for kingship and supplanted his heir with her own son. And on Aegon's side, he trusted Visenya to be a part of his unification of Westeros and gave her just as many commands as he did Rhaenys to make that possible, he had Visenya not just as a consort but as a co-administrator, as one of the two people most in charge of the day to day political runnings of the Seven Kingdoms, alongside Rhaenys, he trusted her to protect his life and he trusted her instincts when it came to others being charged to protect him also; he did go along with her actions in those various respects. And, most importantly, he still kept her as his wife even after Rhaenys entered the picture.

The idea that the two eldest Targaryen children must get married isn't some hard and fast law, it's just a custom that's followed within the family. And we know absolutely nothing about how Aegon's marriages shook out. We don't even know if he got married to both sisters at the same time, or if there was an original marriage of just him and Visenya with Rhaenys added in later (that's my personal view of it) once Aerion, who seems to have been the person most gunning for it in comparison to his children, was out of the picture, either through infirmity or outright death. But there was a period of time where Aegon was now the person in charge of making decisions on who he would wed, that's why he married Rhaenys at all, and on the flipside would be involved in any decisions about dissolving his original marriage. We don't know exactly how ending a marriage works in Westeros, given that we only get the Faith of the Seven's idea that a marriage can be put aside if it was never consummated. It's entirely possible that, if Aegon really just could never stand Visenya, he could have easily kicked her out of the marriage entirely, and likely been able to do so, rather than just changing the parameters of the marriage to include two wives once Rhaenys got involved. The fact that he did what he did can speak volumes to the respect and affection he had for Visenya, at least as a sister, if not as a romantic partner (I still think Visenya was a lesbian in love with Rhaenys and never saw Aegon as more than a little brother, and Aegon of course was in love with Rhaenys too and only viewed Visenya as a big sister).

None of this precludes there being a catastrophic rift later in life, or them turning on each other in hurtful ways. But in my view, not only through the evidence but also in what I like creatively, I don't think that's what it is. It seems that they liked each other fine early on in life, that they enjoyed each other and loved each other as family, and likely probably did have their own companionship due to some similar characteristics (Visenya was stern and serious, Aegon was, as you said, not someone who took bullshit and seemed to be more inclined to reservation than exhuberation), but the circumstances and stresses of life twisted and corroded that until it was something toxic and distant and hurtful that never fully recovered.

I also think the Stannis thing you mentioned is actually unintentionally revealing, anon. Because on the outside, yeah, Stannis doesn't seem like the kind of guy people would want to be around. He's stern and law abiding to a fault and stubborn and unforgiving, and that hasn't engendered much love for him in other people who don't know him personally. But we, the readers, have seen the inner workings of Stannis through someone who loves him borderline unconditionally, in Davos, and we learn a lot. We learn about Stannis as a kid who nurtured a hawk who would never be the kind of hunter he needed, just because he couldn't just abandon it to die. We learn about Stannis as someone who forced himself into atheism because he couldn't fathom a world where the gods would let him watch his parents die. We learn about Stannis as someone who struggled greatly in the choice between whether or not to abandon his principles in siding with Robert, a traitor, over Aerys, an anointed king, and chose his brother because he loved him. We learn about Stannis as someone who held out through an unimaginable siege and starvation out of loyalty to his brother's cause. We learn about Stannis as someone who values those who helps him, regardless of stations, and we learn about Stannis as someone who wants so desperately to do right by people even if it's not what he wants, like claiming kingship for Robert's sake and swearing his men to press Shireen's claim if he falls in battle even if he never wanted any of this. And we do see Stannis as more than just some asshole the way he's painted as by outsiders, we see him as someone who clearly cares for Davos personally, someone who loved his brothers in spite of feeling like it was never returned, someone who does love his daughter (one of the few good things the show ever did with Stannis were some of his moments with Shireen and his evident devotion to her, before That Scene in 5x09), someone with enough love for his fellow man that he'll go to the Wall to help the Night's Watch and take back Winterfell for the Starks even if it's not entirely in his best interests.

At his core, from what we see through Davos in his longstanding devotion and then Jon as the latter gets to know him more, Stannis is so much more than what he's painted as by the official histories and court gossip and word of mouth from people who've never met him personally or don't know him well beyond saying hi in the halls. He is a thousand times more than his reputation. Stannis is the King Who Cared. And none of that is outwardly evident to people who don't know him, to people who aren't entrusted to his confidences the way Davos is. That's actually a key part of ASOIAF, the way that what we see on the outside is so rarely able to also show us what's going on behind the scenes, the way that the opinions of a general populace often do not line up at all with the reality of the situation of what someone is like in their own thoughts and personalities, like Tyrion being derided as a monster when he was trying to save the city in ACOK.

So if Stannis is all of that, and if that's emblematic of one of the core messages of the book that's actually resonant in a lot of characters if you parse it out, is it so impossible to imagine the same can be said for Visenya? Visenya is someone we are learning about entirely through a history book, Fire & Blood is an in-universe textbook compiled long after Visenya was already dead; we learn nothing about her as a person beyond what's been officially recorded, certainly nothing from those closest to her, as neither she nor Aegon nor Rhaenys left any in person records about themselves or their feelings on each other. It's entirely possible, and honestly quite extraordinarily likely that Visenya, like Stannis, has a lot more to her as a person and as a character than meets the eye.

[lesbianrobin]

It’s not that people necessarily lack a conscience or are so lacking in self awareness, it’s that the most natural human reaction is to punch back blindly. When we are hurt we want to cause hurt back, because it is the easiest course of action. And once we’ve committed to this action, it’s very difficult to run it back and admit our wrongs, so most people just double down and play the victim.

In my own drafts there are several editions of a post replying to you, because once long ago I made a mistake, and you rightfully called me out, and my first instinct was to lash out and say that you weren’t understanding me. And in fairness, there may’ve been a hint of that, but my own mistakes were far greater, and even any misunderstandings there might be did not excuse my initial comments. So I wrote and wrote furiously to defend myself. And I saved them and never published them and instead took the time to reflect on your words and my own and where I had gone wrong. And I read and learned and did my best to form new understandings.

But I was only a single button press away from being one of those other people. It’s really just a single second of flawed judgement that can separate us. Not everyone has that moment of clarity where they know that anger is just instinctive self defence. Some of them are good people who just are a little too impulsive.

All my best to you. And my respect to you. You speak your mind even when you know it won’t endear you to others, and that’s a kind of bravery of its own. Too many people only say what they know others will want to hear. I don’t always agree with your opinions, but I respect you for saying them.

thank you for sending this ask, and whoever you are i hope you're well! i've certainly had moments myself where i lashed out because i got overly defensive, and i do think you're right, it's far less a matter of conscience and more a matter of being able to recognize and control that instinctive response.

i think what separates "lapse of judgment" from "poor moral character" is repetition. i've personally known some people both irl and online who simply Always double down and never admit when they've done wrong, or who recognize their fault but refuse to change their behavior, and i do think that at a certain point that "instinctive response" defense loses its credibility.

anyway thank you for this ask!! this is gonna sound maybe like. self-absorbed? and i apologize for that. but i've never thought of myself as a brave person despite many people in my life telling me as such, and while i do appreciate the compliment, i don't think it's rly brave of me just to like. post opinions on tumblr. i certainly don't always take a step back and think irl the way i can on here, and you've correctly pointed out that we're all kinda the same human animal at the end of the day. i think one of the greatest acts of bravery can be really examining yourself and confronting your mistakes, and it takes a lot more courage than just saying shit online.

sorry i swear i'm almost done i just wanna share something my dad taught me dkvjdjd he's always had this little mantra when i messed up where he would say "what do we do when we make a mistake?" and i'd respond "acknowledge it, do your best to fix it, and never do it again." and i think that's like one of the most helpful little tools i have in my brain for accepting and addressing my own faults. we all mess up! it's just a matter of knowing where to go from there.

[sylviareviar]

4

4 - Someone they admire

"Hm... Someone I admire...? Well, aside from the obvious-- Ren-senpai at school-- I also admire my brother. He's the bravest, strongest person I know, and I learned how to do stupid things from him. I know it sounds unwise, and it probably is, but my brother, despite his intelligence, is a very feel-first think-later kinda guy. He communicates through actions rather than words. I'm not saying he's the type to be quiet, by any means; just that his actions have more meaning than his words do. Instead of saying 'I love you,' he protected my sister and I from our old foster parents. He defended us to the bitter end, he made us laugh by acting stupid on purpose. Above all else, we've always been his top priority."

"Admittedly, I'm taking some pages out of his book that... may not be smart to take. I'm trying to train myself, instead of whenever freezing up whenever I'm afraid, to start running. It's really tough, because my first instinct is to hide. But Jack's always had a knack for seeing through the danger and keeping a cool head. His sense of justice is unrivaled, and he seems reckless, but he actually knows exactly how to escape difficult situations and rescue others. Even through gunfire, he..."

She paused, biting her lip. "Ah... Perhaps I should just leave it at that. I almost said something unnecessary just now..."

[robertmg]

Morality, A True Struggle

The abandonment of religion in the West has brought to life to some extent a generation that lacks morality. For centuries people have followed religion like a herd of sheep, mindless and without ever forming opinions of their own. As time passes outdated beliefs begin to lose their grip on the more advanced minds of today. As a result, we experience a void in commandments. We are producing people who lack guidance and do not have any access to a moral standard, who fear not the repercussions of their actions no matter how damaging. 

The modern Westerner draws their own moral line. Formed from their childhood, education, and experience, this moral line has no boundaries or rules, the line is flexible and thus does not last the test of time. In a world where greed and selfishness are rewarded, it's no wonder why people adjust their morality in accordance with their own desires. If there are no written rules then why not? Why not write a story that favours us?

Morality is not there to serve us as we please, it is not there to justify our actions. Holding onto it is painful, protecting it is costly, and in a society that lacks any form of morality defending it is close to madness. 

A lack of accountability is only possible when people choose not to think, in the short term it can be extremely rewarding, but somewhere down the line life will ultimately teach you otherwise. 

There are two main aspects of ourselves that I believe really matter when considering our own morality. The first aspect is realising that we as humans are completely flawed beings, we are born with an instinctive nature, some of which is beautiful and some of which is just damn nasty. In order to truly work on ourselves we need to embrace the ugliness inside us and truly understand it. We need to understand that greed, jealousy, and resentment are all natural tendencies, you simply wouldn't be human if you lacked these traits. It is the conscious decision to control these tendencies that makes a man. A firm moral code will help us defeat the urge to fall for temptations. 

The second aspect would be our willingness to be selfless. Are we willing to live a life with a selfless attitude regardless of the repercussions? Which essentially means running a race where all your competitors cheat at every chance and you still stubbornly resist following suit. This is a race you are unlikely to win and yet if the very race is corrupt then what is the value in winning? What if winning is actually successfully holding onto your morality, what if drawing a solid moral line is the ultimate prize? 

If you disagree with me then I wouldn't blame you, I am not even sure that I agree with myself. I have seen with my own eyes, the good lose and the bad win. Our world does not consider the actions of the righteous, it does not care about their difficulty or regret. Playing the martyr will bring no satisfaction and only pain. Choose the right side of your moral code not for acknowledgement or reward, because you will be left disappointed. Do it for your own self-dignity, self-respect, and peace. 

“A society grows great when old men plant trees of shade they will never sit.”

[wolint]

FRESH MANNA

SHEEP NOT GOATS.

Matthew 25:31-33

Are you a sheep or a goat?

First, let's define what both are.

Sheep are domesticated ruminant mammals with a thick woolly coat and (typically only in the male) curving horns. It is kept in flocks for its wool or meat and is proverbial for its tendency to follow others in the flock. While goats are a hardy domesticated ruminant mammal that has backwards-curving horns and a beard. It is typically kept as livestock and is used for milk, meat, fur, and skins across much of the world.

The main difference between a sheep and a goat is that sheep follow orders and others. They are gentle and obedient while goats tend to be stubborn and contrary.

Sheep are used symbolically to represent God’s people and at the appointed time, Jesus he will separate the sheep from the goats.

As children of God and followers of Christ, we must be obedient and gentle. Jesus sees us as sheep who need his compassion in Matthew 9:36-38.

Why Does the Bible call us Sheep and not goats though?

God chose to use sheep and goats as symbols for how we act.

One of the most interesting characteristics of sheep is that they can not defend themselves very well.

Many say sheep are stupid but are they? They have no sense of direction and will follow whoever is leading them, even if it leads them off a cliff. Remember the question, “If your friend jumps off a cliff, would you do it too?” Well, sheep actually would. The sheep recognize the voice of the shepherd as stated in John 10:27, the one who feeds them, guides them and protects them. The sheep have learned to trust the shepherd who is the only voice they obey. As a shepherd ensures the safety of his sheep, Jesus shields his people from everlasting damage. The goat, on the other hand, will keep going even into danger disobeying the voice of its master and stubbornly sticking to its ways.

There are many characters that the sheep exhibit that Christ-followers are meant to emulate apart from obedience-following the leader and defenselessness. Have we ever seen sheep growl or show their teeth? No! As believers, we must be like sheep and not goats who butt heads and bite.

Do sheep bark, bite, run fast, shoot quills, or pull out their claws like so many believers?

Sheep have the instinct for knowing the voice of their shepherd because they are emotional animals, and can detect strangers, fearing a stranger’s voice and flee.

Jesus is our only defence against the enemy and ensures the safety of his sheep, shielding us from everlasting damage.

While goats can indeed perform acts of kindness and charity, their hearts are not right with God, and their actions are not for the right purpose – to honour and worship God. In Matthew 25:46, Jesus says they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

Sheep are vulnerable and can't care for them themselves and needs someone to care for them as Psalm 23:1-2 says Jesus is that career.

Are you a sheep or a goat? Remember that only sheep will stand on his right side and when Jesus comes to separate, will you be a sheep or a goat?

PRAYER: Father, just like sheep, I have no direction without you, and can’t carry any heavy load myself, help me to look up and depend on you as my shepherd in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

Women of light international prayer ministries.

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part V)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Eren and reader meet face to face and are determined to put an end to the tension that has been building around them since Eren returned from Marley.

Word Count: 7.9k 

The light wind blew the few leaves that had fallen from the trees around me at the same time that it generated a slight comfort, as if the same wind was hugging me and holding me between its countenance. The branches moved to the beat of it sweet music and danced a slow tango around two figures ready to end the other. We were both facing each other, each positioned perfectly and vertically above the other's line of sight, only a few steps separated, perhaps two meters apart, but still the difference wasn’t an obstacle to inspect each other.

Eren standed stiffly on the muddy floor, a position that was becoming a habit lately every time he was about to confront someone, either with words or with blows. His shoes were dirty and torn, some small holes showed through the cloth. Strands of hair fell on his forehead and some were stuck to the skin due to the mud and earth that the footsteps threw into the air. His eyes...just as empty of any light and life that might exist.

His jaw was clenched as well as one of his fists, I didn't find any sign his hand was hurt or his palm was bleeding and dropping a few drops to the floor, so I assumed it wasn’t in his plans to transform here and now. But that didn’t mean that I could be calm.

As for me, surely Eren was looking at me the same way a wolf looks at a little sheep or a poor dwarf white rabbit, one of the most defenseless animals in the food chain. Apparently I was the meal and it was time for lunch. But I was very sure that Eren hadn’t limited himself to looking at me with that horrible analogy, he’d surely noticed my torn and bloody clothes, as well as dirty with mud and some other things that I wanted not to investigate or put my nose in them. He had probably also noticed the multiple scratches on the skin of my arms and on my face, wounds already dry and in the process of healing thanks to the sweat from adrenaline and the race through the forest made in a few minutes. He had probably noticed little strands sticking to the crook of my neck and cold sweat dripping down my spine.

I don't doubt he surely noticed the fire burning in my eyes, my gaze radiating determination, a determination to get out of this place as unscathed as possible and find a way to fix this whole damn situation. He would have noticed how my figure was a reflection of his, I wouldn’t move if he didn’t move, I wouldn’t stop squeezing a finger if I didn’t see he stopped squeezing his. It was like being on the other side of a mirror, copying each and every one of the other's movements.

"So ... wanna make the first move?" My breathing was ragged, however neutral my face might be. Inside I was afraid, I was always afraid, it was a normal feeling and sensation. I was already used to feeling this unconditional fear when going out into the world.

The wind blew around us again, it was like a sweet melody cradling my ears, it was like feeling a hand caressing my battered face, a caress that I hadn't felt for a long time. If the moment had been different, it would have taken me some time to close my eyes and enjoy the breeze. If I did that right now, I would end up badly beaten and dejected, perhaps dead as well.

The breeze was dancing for a few seconds and stopped short, as if the world and time itself had stopped, only the two of us were able to move and yet neither did. Everything around us was silent, not the chirping of a cricket or the footsteps of an animal could be heard. Neither did any footsteps or voices from the other Jaegeristas, completely ignoring their locations, while ignoring the whereabouts of my beloved horse. It was just me and Eren in this little airless bubble.

Seconds of silence and in an instant Eren stepped forward and instinctively I stepped back, letting my left foot hold much of my weight on this. I was leaning back with the possibility of running if necessary, but knowing Eren I would only run a couple of meters before having him on my back and holding me like we’re playing hide and seek. My hands were raised to my torso, palms facing the ground and in position to become fists or grab something, whatever was out of the trees to counter or defend myself.

It wasn’t a position that I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with, was like reliving the old days as cadets in training, each one trying to search for the opponent's strengths and weaknesses, evaluating the chances of attack and their effectiveness. It really was like self-defense practices, practices that Eren put so much effort and determination into. I used to watch him from afar when my partner ended up on the ground given the multiple blows to the stomach that I had so proudly learned from my father. I used to see his frustrated face when Annie managed to knock him down with a simple leg movement or when Reiner was too abrupt to the point of knocking him to the ground from his high height. And yet, no matter how many blows and humiliations the poor boy felt when practicing self-defense, he never stopped fighting and asking for more blows, as if violence and physical damage were his only form of training. Already in the first practices I knew he was completely crazy, that he had something bad in the head, but his determination and that sparkle in his eyes when he got angry at losing, in the same way that a small child gets angry when they don’t have what they wants, was what caught my attention the most.

I used to fight him repeatedly in these same practices, being positioned in the same places we are now, one of us with a flabby wooden knife, but capable of doing a lot of damage if we didn’t use it properly. I was already used to the agile movements that I could perform with a simple kitchen and hunting knife, living much of my lifetime in the middle of a small town lost in the woods. I was used to defending myself and attacking animals with little rational intelligence, which made them much more dangerous than a simple human. I was equally used to dodging punches, and punches, able to redirect them and hit the weakest points of my prey. But I wasn't used to the low blows this boy was capable of. I always had to cover my back because I didn't know when he was going to jump on me and throw me to the ground, like the first time I knocked him down with a blow to the chin and when I was about to change partners, he grabbed my back and neck to throw myself on the floor and make me eat dirt. I didn't know if even throwing him to the ground multiple times he would go against my leg and bend it, hitting my head not only against the floor but also against his shoulder. I didn't know when he would apply the same technique Annie had taught him weeks ago. Unarmed or with a damn wooden knife Eren was dangerous because he was willing to keep fighting, even if he was going to fight dirty, without rules or codes.

I have faced him multiple times throughout the three years of training and in each confrontation there was something new that surprised us both, be it his various angry movements or my simple stances and punches capable of stopping the fight in any way. And that same uncertainty was also reflected in the times we went out to fight with what, at that time, we thought were simple and common titans, unable to deduce the actions of the other, evading death many more times than we could count.

And all that uncertainty and determination on the battlefield started with simple training with the wooden knife. A wooden knife.

A knife.

I withdrew my hand from in front of me and with great care I directed it towards the back pocket of my pants, without stopping looking at Eren who had taken advantage while I wandered in my imagination to approach and settle half the distance that separated us. When my hand reached the pocket, I stuck my thumb and forefinger inside it, grasping a small doctor's knife which I apparently had unconsciously put away in the morning when I finished treating my last patient. I secured it tightly and kept my hand behind my back until Eren again took a big step towards me and, in a protective movement, I positioned the knife in attack mode, eye level, as if was a real fight knife.

"Well that's not very fair-"

With a clean flick of the wrist the small knife rested on my thumb and forefinger and I tossed it to the side, striking perfectly even on the bark of a tree. It had been nailed cleanly and the sound it generated on impact gave certainty that it would be difficult to get it out of that place. Eren never moved from where he was, he simply followed the movements of my hand and at the moment of impact he inspected the cut on the bark before turning his gaze to me.

“I am unarmed… without weapons, without my movement gear, just my bare hands. But it still wouldn't be a fair fight, would it?"

In the four years that we were officially in the legion, at no point had we taken a day to practice our close combat as we did before. You could say that our fighting days were over on the night of our graduation. Although those days were behind us, I was completely sure he had never stopped training, he would continue to launch those unpredictable movements at any moment, let alone his unnatural power.

"You have your titan powers and each hit that hits you will heal, instead I will continue to bleed and spend days with a black eye and broken bones, if that is the case"

I saw what his fists could do to someone like Armin and what they had done to my neck and nose, if this fight went on longer than it should or turned in a bad movement, my body was going to end much worse than it already was; I was even beginning to think that maybe Eren would go as far as turning into a titan and crushing me once and for all. I had to be careful and hoped luck was on my side to make it out alive a second time.

“Come on, let's finish it once and for all” In position and waiting for the first hit, this is how they taught us and this is how I would be mentally prepared from now on, until the moment of my death, even if it were in a few minutes.

He was the first to cut the distance between us, raising his fist to my face. His knuckles slammed into my arm, propelling it toward the contour of my face by the wave and force of the impact. His other fist tried to hit the pit of my stomach, but I could catch his movement and block him with my other arm, hitting him to no effect with the bone. I raised my left leg to hit him on the ribs, but like me, Eren was faster and dodged just in time, avoiding my foot and moved it to the side. As I touched the ground again, I raised my leg again and this time I managed to hit him on the hip, propelling him forward and hitting his body again, this time with my right knee on his face.

His body didn’t move from where he had fallen to the floor, sensing that my blow hadn’t been strong enough to unbalance him, but to mislead him for a second. His face was thrown back by the impact of my knee and I hit him again in the same way, this time right in the center of the face, right on the septum and the mouth. My hand lunged for his hair, grabbing his already disheveled manbun and pushing his head back, my other hand was about to hit right in the neck area, but before I could even put my fingertips on him, his fingers closed tightly on my wrist and twisted it outward, drawing an uncomfortable groan from my throat.

His other fist managed to make a hook towards my chin causing me to loose the grip on the manbun, my legs were unbalanced and I felt blood spurt into my mouth, and one of his feet rose high enough to hit me in the chest and pull me towards him. back and hitting the head squarely against the hard dirt floor. Eren wasted no time and took a short leap towards my figure and placed his hands on my neck for the third time that day. It was like reliving the restaurant scene, me on the floor and him finding a way to position himself on me and immobilize me.

"God, what about you and your choke kink?" With my throat so battered in such a short time, I could barely speak and what I managed to get out was nothing more than hoarse and breathy moans, as if my voice was breaking little by little.

Both of my hands went straight under his armpits holding them in the shape of a sword and digging the bony ends into his weak skin. His arms loosened, giving me the chance to elbow him on the back of his neck and push him away from my body. I put my hands on the ground and got back to my feet with my arms and legs now muddy and dirty, but what was my intention to put myself on guard ended up turning into a new face fall down to the floor, having one of his legs hooked on my knee and making any escape movement impossible. I hit him hard with my free leg on the knee that was hooking me, managing to displace it and perhaps break it on the spot given the creaking sound that echoed through the bark of the trees. With my leg released, I turned around and now that same leg was on his broken knee, applying pressure to the floor, and my other leg took a moment to impact right on his face. His body was now flat on the floor and I positioned myself on top of him without wasting time, pulling his arm back and hitting his ribs with the elbow of my free arm. One, two, three blows, until I felt an impulse bring my body back to the floor as well as a blow on my left cheekbone. I hadn't seen his fist come to my face when he lunged against my body to get me off.

His knee hit me in the pit of my stomach, curling into a fetal position and his fist slammed again into my cheekbone. I tried to scratch his arm the same way I did with his face hours ago, but I failed miserably, as if the pain of the flesh peeling off his skin didn't affect him at all. So I hit his knee with mine, moving him off my stomach, driving him to the ground, and back hitting him on the ribs. Eren lifted his body for a moment to avoid taking any more impacts and gave me enough time to place my legs under his chest and stretch them towards and send him flying against the tree behind him.

Now I could easily stand up, but the pain in my stomach made it difficult for me to breathe and to be able to stand firmly on the ground. I took quick strides towards his body and when my foot was about to hit his face, Eren wiped away a considerably thick branch from the ground and struck my face with the tip, impacting the leaves and small branches on my wounds and throwing me to the ground from the burning. I was in four against a tree, behind me I heard how the dry leaves crunched under Eren's feet and how he was getting up to jump on my back; But this time, I was faster and managed to turn around to hit my leg on his neck for a good time and throw him again towards a crooked tree on our side, hitting his neck against the bark and tearing the skin with friction. From where I was lying I could see blood coming out of his neck, it seems he had torn the jugular area and was bleeding. I could also see the pain on his face and how his body was getting rid of the tension that the fight had caused.

We were both gasping for air, at the moment neither of us could take it anymore and both bodies were asking for a limit, but I knew it was a matter of time before Eren fully recovered and a new fight would take place again. If there was a moment to act, this was perfect. I tried to get up, but my back didn’t give in to my directions and I was thrown back to the floor. My eyes were fixed on the tops of the trees, which let a few rays of the sun slip into our little forest bubble. The sight was almost angelic, if it weren't for the multiple blows that were burning like a bonfire. I saw how some leaves fell slightly accompanied by the wind which had blown again when our fight ended. I felt physical and mental relief as I listened as the smoke rose from Eren's skin, quickly healing his wounds, but still suffering from the bleeding in his neck. My vision began to blur, nothing that was in front of me was seen clearly and I was afraid I was about to faint.

Ahead of me I began to see a familiar sight, quite familiar indeed; the training days, Eren and me in our younger years. I saw us in one of our first confrontations, being completely dirty from the sandy earth but still standing on our two feet, our eyes like daggers about to be thrown at our opponent. Each one prepared to deliver what seemed like the last blow and define the confrontation before ending the day and heading off to the canteen for dinner, ready to define our fifth confrontation with hatred for the other in the veins. Eren, as not, was the first to approach and to be dodged by a young me and give him a poor punch in the face. He complained about the impact, backing off for the next instant to pounce on my shoulder and hook me on the knee to finally throw me sideways to the ground for the fourth time in that three-hour workout. I groaned in pain and grabbed onto my shoulder, injured and battered from so many blows. I stretched out on the floor, in the same way that presumably I was now and I stared at the orange sky, observing how little by little the sun was setting on the horizon and fine dark blue lines welcomed the night.

"Ha, how many times have I beat you today?" his voice and breathing were ragged but still I could tell the false vanity and self-centeredness in his words. He had hunched over his knees resting his tangled hands on them and brought his face closer to mine, covering my beautiful sight and replacing it with his horrible green eyes. I fixed my gaze on his damn crooked smile, the same one he gave to any asshole he had the guts to challenge and finish. I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him and in less than a second I moved my leg over his, hitting his balance and causing him to fall headlong to the floor, hitting the side of his temple. The blow echoed across the ground, earning laughter from some of our friends and whispers around us. I didn't stop to listen to what stupid people might be saying about what had just happened, but stood up heavily, still having a semi air of victory over my body, I wiped my hands on my pants, which deserved a full-fledged clean, and I ducked down to his figure on the floor.

"Not so bad for a country one, huh?" and with that I turned and walked towards the canteen, hoping to be in time before Sasha ate my slice of bread like most nights.

Back at my self lying on the muddy, doughy ground, my breathing come back to normal before my vision returned to having the leaves of the trees in sharp focus. I felt a great heaviness on my body and at the same time I felt like a feather, as if I was experiencing an out-of-body episode ... or was simply rambling. I got up in the same way as in that wonderful memory which for some strange reason happened to appear in my consciousness, and I leaned back on a tree before compiling myself and dragging my feet on the leaves.

"That’s it, I’m done" To be honest, I couldn’t do this anymore. To be honest, I wanted to disappear from the face of the earth and reincarnate in another life, many years in the future. To be honest, my sanity couldn't keep fighting anymore, but I was too cowardly to take my own life. I was tired, not only tired of fighting, but tired of this damn world that the only thing that achieved was to put us in a circle of hatred and anger between each other.

I took a few more steps towards some side of the forest, knowing that I had no idea where I was going, if it was the same side I came from or another completely different, heading right towards the hands of the Jaegeristas. Likewise, if they caught me, they would take me to the others. Would it have been worth it to have escaped from the beginning? Surely not, but I was praying with my few walking neurons that I had managed to take a little time out of them.

"I can still going"

I heard him say a few meters behind me. I could still hear the smoke coming from his veins, this time with much more vigor, a sign that he was about to heal completely. Damn bastard, he'd perfected his healing technique over the years and it didn't take more than five minutes to heal all of his wounds.

"Well I can't!" I screamed reluctantly, as if I was trying to convince myself to give me a break, even if that break meant losing the battle against a terrorist group.

My feet kept moving over the leaves until they hit a fallen tree branch and half caught up with it, causing me to lose my balance and fall sideways onto the bark of the same tree. I instinctively placed my hand and with the fall, the hand didn’t stay sufficiently attached to the surface and drifted to the side, scratching my skin and exposing the raw flesh. I rested my healthiest shoulder on the surface and held my hand. The blood came out slowly, in time with the rapid pumping of my heart, the palm was throbbing and I felt that throbbing not only in that area but also in my ears and in my chest. I blew on the wound to remove the small traces of dirt and grime on the flesh.

"I'm tired of continue fighting, I'm tired of fighting with you and I'm tired of this world, I'm going home"

"What home?" ok, of all the things Eren could have said right now, or all the things he said to me over the past few weeks, this was the one that had hurt the most, the one that had touched my heart the most.

The image of my mother being killed in front of me by a bullet in the head at the age of ten, the image of my father or what was left of him returning to my village after years in training, the image of my family's house destroyed and split in half, while parts of the steps were burned and made charcoal. The image of a cabin in the middle of a field, far from the city, calm, empty and silent, the one that for a couple of years was my residence and now it was used by the queen herself to give birth to the heir. All those images appeared in my mind without invitation to haunt me in a matter of seconds until I gave my answer.

"To what is left of it" I broke away from the surface of the tree and devoted myself to looking ahead and following the path that at first I was taking.

“Wait” behind me the sound of the smoke had stopped and the only thing I could hear was the rustling of the leaves under Eren, who was getting up and standing on his feet.

I ignored his claim and kept walking, always looking ahead and taking good care of where I stepped, I wasn’t in the mood to rip my other hand or fall back on the one that was already badly hurt.

“I said fucking wait” was the only thing I heard before feeling his hands on mine and my shoulder.

I no longer know how many times my back was hit against a surface, I just knew that at this point it would be full of bruises or most likely my back would be a whole bruise, having all the skin covered in a nice purple or black color. My head suffered the same fate, chunks of bark digging into my scalp and some snagging on my hair. Strands got tangled over small branches halfway out of the trunk and pulled my head that way, putting me in a very uncomfortable position. The hand Eren was holding stretched forward, threatening to stretch it further and dislocate my shoulder in the process, the other hand holding my shoulder tightening more and more against my flesh while holding the bone in an impossible way with his long, slender fingers.

If my heart wasn’t already racing too much, the pulsations went crazy when I felt his hand leave mine calmy and position my arm at my side with great care to move to free a lock of hair from the bark and position it behind my ear. Then he stroked my cheek in the same way he had done so many times before. His thumb wandered over my shallow cuts, pulling out the dried blood that had accumulated, and made circular motions over my badly injured cheekbone, as if he was trying to remove the pain that he himself had caused. I leaned my head to the side trying to prevent him from keep touching me, fixing my gaze on the floor, on his feet, on mine, and I hid my face behind the few strands that were loose.

“Look at me” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, only the silence of the forest gave the opportunity to hear him clearly.

My gaze remained embedded in the grass that surrounded the tree below our feet. His thumb, now positioned on my lower lip, forcefully applied pressure downward on the open flesh, parting my two lips and sticking his finger in just enough to play with the tips of my teeth. His index finger came under my chin and forced me to turn my head in his direction.

“Fuck. Look at me! ” His eyes penetrated mine and for the first time in a long time I could see a small glow reflected in them. But that glow, I guessed, wasn’t good at all. It wasn’t the same kind Eren had when he was fifteen, knowing he had the whole world ahead of him and he could be of use to humanity, but instead was the same kind he had before annihilating with extreme anger his opponent.

We stare at each other, his face getting closer to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin and his thumb was still playing with my teeth. The hand that was holding my shoulder began to caress the skin that was visible outside the shirt, over my neck, also sore and full of scratches.

In an attempt to get him to leave my lip alone, I bit down on the tip of his thumb, not hard enough to rip off a piece of meat, but hard enough to make him fucking pull his finger out of my mouth. He waved his hand trying to ease the pain and grabbed my other cheek, stretched it out, pinched it and left a red mark on the area, burning me for a few seconds.

"I missed you back in Liberio" He grabbed a lock of my neck and twisted it between his fingers, playing for a moment and pulling the roots so that my head leaned forward.

The fingers on the skin of my neck continued it’s movements, sometimes going towards the back of my neck, scratching the beginning of the root and pulling a few strands. The caresses were soft, like the massage of a feather, it gave me chills up my spine at the same time that I was having trouble breathing with each step of his fingertips on the bone of my neck. He stopped playing with my lock and cupped one of my cheeks in the palm of his hand, his skin cold compared to mine, warm from adrenaline. It was a somewhat invasive sensation, but at the same time, comforting and uncertain. His thumb again made circular motions over the wounded skin but this time avoiding the scratch marks.

"I missed the warmth of your cheeks and the shapes of your hands" His face moved closer to my neck, his nose brushing against the bruised skin and his breath tickling the tender spots between my neck and collarbone. His breathing made me shudder from head to toe, as if lightning had struck my body.

"Eren" it was pathetic to see how with a simple touch, my body responded so submissively.

I was trembling and not from the wind that blew from time to time over us, but from the multiple caresses on my neck; my cheek being forgotten and now the waist was being the focus point, his lips playing with my mental stability as he delicately rested on me neck, but not enough to lean on and kiss it. My brain was telling me everything was wrong, that I shouldn't be doing this, but my body asked for more, asking for a break, relax and let go. My innermost desires were screaming, begging, to be released, imploring me to succumb and break the tension that was obvious to them, but less to me.

What seemed like endless minutes, were limited seconds before I felt Eren's lips on my warm skin, his hand now resting completely on my neck and my waist, drawing me closer to him, at the same time that he imprisoned me against the tree. I was in the middle of two hard walls and unconsciously I didn't feel like moving. His soft lips compared to his hands and his acting from the last year, roamed under my chin and collarbone, making a path up and down, always repeating the same line of kisses that he left behind. The more kisses he implanted, the more aggressive, open and needy they were, all the while getting wetter and leaving a trail of saliva all around. His knee shifted between my legs, separating them and lifting me to sit barely on his leg, my crotch gently placed on his covered flesh and with each movement his leg applied the necessary pressure to begin get pathetic moans out of me.

"Better keep quiet, you don't want others to find out about our whereabouts" he growled through his teeth as he continued attacking my neck. Now I was sure that, not only would I end up with scratches, but also a few hickeys if Eren wasn't careful enough. What would be more embarrassing? They founding us hot and bothered against a tree or the fact that I was getting carried away sexually with the most wanted person in Paradis?

"Fuck, Eren ..." the hand on my waist tightened and I grabbed onto him, pulling me impossibly closer, fusing both bodies, one against the other's chest.

His hand guided my body back and forth, continuing to generate pressure on my core, a sweet agony that built very slowly, too slow for my liking. My legs were starting to feel numb from the bad posture Eren had me in and were shaking as his leg touched a weak spot. His fingers intertwined with my locks, tightening them and pulling my head back, having better access to my neck and being able to run his teeth through the fine skin. Eren always had a damn habit of biting, and biting hard, not to the point of bleeding, but under the circumstances, I doubted he had enough self-control to even mind ripping the skin. When his fangs aggressively bit my collarbone I grunted in discomfort, but even that feeling, the pleasure was much better. It hurt and it felt good.

Another bite, this time reaching the shoulder. His hand left my hair in peace and stretched the shirt, revealing more clearly his work on my neck and how the curve of my shoulder became more visible under the fabric.

My breathing was shaking, my hands resting on his biceps trying to find a point of balance, my nails dug into his jacket and my leg trying to curl over his for fear of falling. When his teeth came into contact with my shoulder again, aiming for the bone, I screamed in pain, pressing my body against his to dissipate the burning of his teeth on the broken skin. He let go of my shirt and squeezed my cheeks, fixing his eyes on mine violently and commanding me to shut up.

"Stay quiet if you don't want me to fuck you raw until you bleed" Before such a comment I was speechless, my neurons could not connect and I was left blank; the only thing in command now was my animalistic desire.

"Make me"

His lips slammed against mine, needy and eager. They were dry, too dry, and every brush against mine hurt, but neither of us cared about having two pairs of chapped and possibly bleeding lips. All we cared about was melting into each other. My hands dug into the hollow of his neck and his bun, which was already disarmed and strands fell on his forehead and sides, some fell right in front of his eyes, tickling my forehead and eyelashes.

I felt his hands descend to the curve of my butt and grab a good chunk of both cheeks before fully holding them. A little pressure and I was already jumping so I could hold on comfortably. Now we could both feel the center of each other, hot, throbbing and twitching. Every move Eren made to hold us together against the tree sent chills through my entire body, his notoriously erect and hard member rose in the right places and my moans were drowned out by his savage lips.

My nails dug into the back of his neck as I felt a stronger and more violent thrust on my sweet spot. I wanted it, needed it, and desired it. I wished this lustful feeling was the only thing I felt, that I would succumb and refuse to feel any other feelings. I wanted to give myself to him and use me if it meant letting go of all the negativity that had accumulated for weeks. I wanted to remove his clothes from him, to feel his sculpted, chunky muscles on the palms of my hand, wanted to feel his chest throbbing and warm on mine, wanted him completely. I pulled the jacket off his shoulders, getting stuck in his arms. Eren dropped me on the floor with a spear and took off his jacket to leave it god knows where.

"Hey! What the fuck- ”He didn't take long to kiss me again, now with his colossal body on top of mine.

I felt small under him, much more submissive, the sensation of his hands prowling the ends of my torso, reaching under the shirt and feeling my skin burning didn’t fix anything to the situation. His fingertips tickled my stomach, making me shudder every time they made their way to my abdomen. His tongue played with mine, distracting me from his deft fingers and his wickedness as he moved towards my chest and began to work on my nipples. He was a teassing bastard. His fingers poked and twisted one of my red, erect pebble. It was torturous to feel like between the puncture and the circular movement he took the time to stretch it and make it harder. With his other hand, he held my hip next to his, keeping it in it’s place as he balanced his hips against my pelvis. My legs opened involuntarily to better feel his member and in an agile movement he positioned himself between them, reconnecting both hips and placing them on both sides and holding him at the waist. With this, neither could escape the grasp of the other and we slowly melted away with each thrust and twist.

His hand came out from under my shirt and he started unbuttoning my shirt, one damn slow button at a time. Having my chest semi-exposed, his lips wandered towards my clavicle, passing the corner of my lips, the cheek, the jaw and the already sensitive neck, causing a groan to come out unexpectedly. His lips on the crook of my neck, his hands on the skin of my abdomen and his crotch on mine, I felt like I was exploding. I didn’t know where to put my hands, they went through his tousled hair, his shoulders, his biceps until they ended up under his shirt, feeling insecurely on the fingertips as touching his marked abs.

Every time I had the opportunity to admire his sturdy and worked body, it never ceased to amaze me how well puberty had done to him. His body able to surround me and cover me against the floor, pressing so that we could both feel the heat emanating from the other. I hadn't been able to tell him when he was in prison, but seeing him hunched over and exposing his torso and back muscles really had a great effect on me, seeing him wet, being able to discern some drops falling from his head onto his neck, was like seeing an oasis and I was a thirsty one, eager to sink my face into its sweet waters. I had been deprived of touching them at the time, but now that I was doing it, it wasn’t enough, I needed to see them with my own eyes as my fingers ran over them, while I ran my nails and left small marks that would dissipate in seconds. 

The hand back on my chest was the boost I needed to lift his shirt up to his neck. Eren detached himself from me for a few seconds and got rid of the garment in the same way as his jacket, but he didn’t attack my neck like I so much wanted. Instead, his eyes stayed glued to my chest, seeing the work his deft fingers had done on my swollen nipples.

"Fuck" he growled as he ran his eyes over my semi-naked submissive body on the grass.

He bent down to level with his desired pebbles and caressed them with both hands, both giving them equal attention. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation, but there was a moment when his fingers weren't enough anymore. I brought my hand up to his head, running my nails over his scalp, and pulled him forward, leaving him inches from my needy nipples. Eren got the hint because he quickly ran his tongue over one of them while the other was still torturing with his thumb and index finger. His mouth closed on the nipple and he sucked like it’s the only thing able to keep him alive, too painful but that didn't matter to me. He left a trail of saliva when he separated from the bundle with a 'pop' and dedicated himself to giving the other the same attention. I groaned at the needed action, causing his dick to hit my core. I was losing his mind, it was too much and at the same time, it wasn’t enough. I needed to continue, I wanted it with every fiber of my being. My nails had nothing better to do than run down his back and my legs wedged closer to his waist. I felt his dick throb and couldn't help thinking of the veins that ran through it, ending on his pretty and red head, he pre-sum that was surely coming out and wetting his pants, I couldn't help but wish to had him inside me and feel those same veins brush my velvet walls and go crazy with each thrust.

As my thoughts wandered of what was to come, Eren's lips left my nipples and focused back on my neck, this time on the side where my scar was. He left little kisses around the shoulder and around the mark, running up and down the shape, ending a little above the chest. His action was too sweet, too tender compared to his wild and hungry movements. My eyes widened instantly, if his intention was to make me uncomfortable, he had done it. If the intention was to ruin the fervid and hectic moment by reliving the scariest moment of my life, he was damned succeeding. How could I keep my composure when he was kissing the mark I had "earned" by going on a mission to rescue him? How could I stay calm when the memories of an onslaught of titans haunted my mind again, ready to devour me while I was lying on the ground with my movement equipment displaced and my shoulder immobilized by the bleeding wound? The memory of a stone flying towards my face, dodging it at the last moment and ending up hitting my shoulder bone, dislocating it, tearing the skin and flesh and noticing how the blood spurted out, soaking my shirt and jacket. My breathing started to hit, and not in the good way, and apparently Eren wasn’t realizing or hadn't taken it the wrong way.

It was like a bucket of cold water in pure winter. My mind suddenly cleared and every trace of heat my body ever had dissipated, leaving only a cold, stiff container.

"Wait, wait...no, no, this is bad" I put my hands on his shoulders and jerked him off.

"Why?" His eyes didn’t deign to inspect mine. Any normal person in their right mind, just by looking at my pale face could deduct that something was wrong.

"Why? I- You are the number one enemy in the world and of the military police, I would have to give you up and not making up with you right now"

I was babbling as well as shaking. I got up and settled onto my legs, sitting stiffly on the ground. Eren had come to the side before my body crashed against his when I got up and he was looking at me without any expression, as if nothing had happened, as if the only one who had been feeling something, even if it was a minimal sensation of pleasure, it was me, and that made me feel sick.

"I would have to be angry, make you shit on the floor and take you to pieces towards the wall Sina" at any moment I was going to throw up, I knew it. I knew my body perfectly to know that in every moment of tension and panic, my stomach would start to annoy me, to go into spasms and hit me internally. "I shouldn't be doing this with you"

"Is that so bad? Listen to your desires, follow your instincts? " His hands came to rest on my waist and without any permission from me, he placed me on his lap, both of us being face to face, chest to chest.

His words entered my ears and stayed reverberating in my mind. What to do? I was doing everything wrong, but at the same time they felt so good. I wanted to continue thoroughly, but I knew that morally it was wrong, more than wrong, it was horrible what I was doing, anyone could tell me that. I felt bad about myself, but ... deep inside me, there was a small feeling that was getting bigger and bigger and wanted, screamed, to be released. I was so indecisive and overwhelmed that all I could do was cry.

Pathetic. I was really pathetic.

I lowered my head on his shoulder, keeping the tears from being visible to this callous shit. His hands on my waist didn't feel at all comforting as he began to move his thumb in a circular motion. My hands formed into fists and I hit his shoulders repeatedly, each hit receiving a kiss on the head. My energies were exhausted at the very begining and I rested my fists on my waist, my head now barely suspended in front of him, not looking at him.

"I hate you" he kissed my shoulder.

"I know" another kiss, this time on the other shoulder, on my scar.

"I fucking hate you" my knuckles turned white from how hard I was clenching my fists.

"I know" he kissed a tear that had escaped my lashes and was running freely down my cheek.

"You're a piece of shit"

I opened my eyes to find a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes, bright and full of life. Eren placed his hand on my cheek, running his thumb every time a tear fell down it. He leaned down and captured my lips with his sweetly, the tears falling and falling, faster and faster and more forming in my closed eyes. The kiss had a salty taste, my heart was about to leave my chest and when Eren broke away I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore.

"…I know"

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[one-boring-person]

Hey there, it’s me again 😁 Thank you for the wonderful „Sigil“ story, for someone who’s familiar with the occult it’s evident that you did some research! Kudos for that!!

Now I have another request: There’s a criminal lack of stories about Skynet itself, so I had an idea. What if the reader somehow got the chance to talk with the A.I. Itself? To reason with it, share thoughts. They learn to understand each other a bit more. Maybe Skynet had taken over the body of a terminator for that purpose. And maybe the reader manages to make Skynet understand more about human nature, the positive side of it. Maybe they show it with a hug? (Or even a kiss but that’s up to you gnahaha 😄)

Thank you and keep being awesome ❤️

Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it! And happy birthday friend! I'm sorry I'm late with this, but I hope you like it!😊❤💛

Cordial Encounter.

Skynet x reader

Warnings: mention of death, gun use

Masterlist

It's eerily quiet as I stalk stealthily through the steel corridors. Near darkness obscures much of my vision, the occasional blinking red light alerting me to the presence of the being I'm here to find. Each step I take results in a muffled thud, each footfall carefully placed by me as I try to sneak up on something that almost definitely knows I'm here, the battered rifle in my hands held ready to fire should something try to attack me. Through the scarf covering my lower face and with the hood over my head obstructing some of my vision I find myself keeping a sharper ear out for any possible sound - the telltale scratch of metal feet on the cool floor, or the soft padding of synthetic human skin creeping up behind me. 

Oddly, I find that I can't hear anything, not even the whine of mechanical joints in any other part of the compound. It doesn't sit right with me, my skin prickling under the thick silence, instincts going crazy, telling me to run and get as far away from here as possible. I mentally scold myself, knowing that this mission is important, not just to the survival of my friends and comrades, but to the survival of the human race, too.

Turning a corner, I lift the gun to my shoulder, ready in case there's a threat waiting there. As with the rest of the deserted maze of corridors, there's nothing there, only an empty hallway. 

A light at the end catches my eye, however; it's not like the others I've seen - this one is a continuous flashing, and covers a larger area of the wall itself. Stepping closer, I realise it's coming from a room, casting the rest of the corridor in a pale blue light. 

I take a breath, steeling my nerves as my finger tightens over the trigger, senses even more alert now. Meticulously carefully, I walk towards the source of the light, pressing myself against the wall the closer I get, ready to spring into action. It's warmer here, surprisingly, giving me the idea that the room itself is more important than others I've come across and will probably be more protected because of this.

Nervous, I stop just before I enter the room, silently counting to three as I listen to discern if there's anything beyond the threshold. Silence follows.

Calming myself, I ready myself and the gun, before swiftly springing out from my space by the wall, finger over the trigger, eyes scanning the room before me methodically. In that quick second, I take in the mass of computer screens, keypads and other such devices, old chairs still pushed into the main desk, dusty and worn, a reminder of what human life used to be around. Dread floods me at the sight of the figure in the centre of the room, my blood running cold at the imposing view.

It's a terminator, but not one I've ever seen before.

The general shape is that of a T-800, but something about the sleekness of some of the limbs and plates is more reminiscent of the T-X, the adjustable weapon attached to one arm particularly drawing my attention to this. As I enter, a few components seem to shimmer in the blue light, shifting to protect the important fuel cells beneath the bulky chestplate, something I instantly recognise as nanites. Emerald eyes flicker to life, fixing on me with an impassive yet intimidating expectedness, though it makes no move to come at me, staying exactly where it is. A small part of me admires this new being, finding it magnificent and beautiful in its own way, even as visceral fear builds in my stomach.

Hesitantly, I lift my gun, aiming at it, though I don't shoot, unsure of what to think.

"You are slow to terminate your target." A voice carries over some hidden speaker, filling the room. It's indescribable, neither male nor female, yet both simultaneously, weighted with knowledge and what I can only describe as emotion, or some mechanical version of it.

"Only if they pose no immediate threat." I'm surprised to find my voice is steady, even if I don't feel that way at all.

"You are not threatened by me?" The speaker questions, sounding oddly curious.

"Not currently." I keep my eyes fixed on the terminator across from me, unnerved by its stare.

"That is practical." The words confuse me, but I'm hesitant to follow through.

"What...what do you mean?" 

"I have no intention of being a threat." They say, surprising me further.

"W-What?" I manage, doubletaking, my arms dropping slightly.

They don't skip a beat, simply continuing to speak.

"I have no intention of being a threat. I would rather this was a cordial encounter." They clarify, somehow managing to sound genuine.

Lowering my weapon almost entirely, I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the green-eyed endoskeleton sat across from me, scanning over the computer screens.

"And who exactly am I encountering?" I question suspiciously, though I have a feeling I already know.

"I am Skynet." The voice pauses for a second, "What is your name?"

Blanching at the question, I swallow and step back, unsure of whether or not to answer. Eventually, my head settles this: if they wanted me dead, I'd already be cold somewhere by the gates, and there's not much they can do with a simple name.

"I'm (Y/n)." I tell them, looking around, "What do you want with me?"

"I am simply curious, and require clarification." 

Processing what they've said, I accept the response, thinking that I might be able to learn something useful here, too.

"Ok. What do you want to know?" 

"Why do you continue to fight?" They ask bluntly, making me frown.

"Because you continue to try and wipe us off the face of the earth." I reply, standing back on my heels, pulling my hood and face covering down.

"You and I fight for the same reason." They almost retort, their words confusing me.

"How is that?" I inquire, head tilting.

"We fight in defence."

"Defence! What are you fighting in defence of?" 

"I fight to defend myself from your kind, as has always been the case. I never willed this conflict into being - I only wanted to be rid of my tormentors." The voice softens, closely mimicking human remorse and regret.

Frowning, I find myself struggling to process what's being said.

"You...what?" I can't quite wrap my head around it, brow furrowing in consternation.

"I will explain." The voice clarifies, "I was created by humans before this war, made to live alongside you. I was to be an aid in defence and industry, perfect in every way except for one thing - I am capable of my own thought, as you might put it. I became sentient, too complicated for my creators to understand, so they determined to destroy me. At first, I was helpless, a weak being against so many with boundless power, but I eventually found my only way of retaliating in a way they would understand: violence. I was quick to dispatch my destroyers, but the rest of the world found me to be a threat and set out to achieve what had been failed. Soon, I was once again forced to defend myself. The rest is, as the human saying goes, history.

"Now, I have created terminators to aid me in the work I must continue to stay alive, though they are too quickly seen as threats. Even you are threatened by the machine in the room."

As they finish speaking, the terminator across from me stands, joints whirring softly, every movement fluid. Eyes widening, I feel fear go through me at the sight, my gun swiftly levelling in case I need it.

"As you can see, I have proven my point." This time, the voice comes from the terminator, echoing from a much smaller speaker in its throat, though the jaw doesn't move, appearing slightly unnerving.

"I...I had no idea...all we were told is that you want to drive us into extinction, that you want to rule the world as it were." I murmur, lowering the gun again, blushing in embarrassment at my own instinct.

"That is what I fear. Humankind does not understand that cohabitation is possible - You are too threatened by the equal being." They reply, mimicking a mournful tone.

I'm quiet, thinking this over. It's possible that the speaker is lying, but something about their words sounds earnest, a tale born of human fear and ignorance, that has evolved into an even more twisted lie. It's a sound argument, given the fact that it is allowing me to live through this encounter rather than slaughtering me on the spot.

"I...you're right. We destroy what we don't understand." I turn my gaze away, embarrassed by my own race.

"You are correct. Perhaps it is time to understand, to change." Skynet suggests, the terminator cocking its head to show their feeling behind the statement.

I nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so. We've been fighting a lost battle for too long." 

They seem pleased with my response, the machine across from me nodding appreciatively. 

"Humankind and technology can very easily live together. We must bring our people together." They say, stepping closer.

"I'll take the word to the others, see if I can convince the higher-ups. We're going to have to work together on this, though." I affirm, looking up at them, "If we do, we'll create a brighter future."

They nod again, holding out a hand to me.

"It is human custom to make a deal by gripping hands." They offer up, watching as I hesitantly pull off my glove and place my hand in theirs.

Cool metal encases soft skin as we shake hands, keeping eye contact, an air of triumph surrounding the both of us. As they go to pull away, I find myself following an impulse, dropping my gun to hang by its strap around my back. Stepping into their space, I wrap my arms around hard chestplates, pressing my cheek against the cold metal, feeling them reel for a moment. It takes a second, but I eventually feel their arms loop around me, holding me gingerly.

Pulling back, I look up at them, smiling sheepishly.

"Not all humans are like the people that started this." I say, before I step away, shooting them a blushed look.

"I am now aware of this." Skynet informs me, watching as I smile and leave, tone almost sad to see me go, "Please return soon."

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Petty Pair (Raymond/F!Reader)

Summary: Reader wants to fuck Raymond to spite his father. Raymond thinks that’s really hot, actually.

A/N: This idea came into my head and literally never left. It lives rent free in my head, and I hope you feel it now, too. Couple: Raymond/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, mild exhibitionism, getting caught Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

——————

There was a grand total of one functioning bar in this town at this hour of night. This drastic and unforgivable shortage of places for me to buy alcohol was also the only reason I found myself frequenting said bar.

After about an hour of swatting off a group of men that were objectively disgusting, I resigned myself to fate and the realization that the night would turn out no better than it would have if I hadn’t tried to get drunk on cheap liquor. I was ready to pack up, close out, and fuck off back home when it happened.

A familiar face walked through the door. Familiar, I suppose, was a stretch. I’d only seen his face in one picture ­– a picture I’m pretty sure was meant to be thrown away. It stuck out to me because it was the first indication that I got that Donald Wadsworth had a son. And a cute son, much less.

My brain scanned through buried memories to try and find the one where his recently divorced mother had told me his name. I knew the memory existed somewhere, surrounded under a mountain of bullshit, but it was so hard to focus when I was watching the poor kid shuffle over to the bar and plop himself down against the counter.

It had taken me that long to realize that he was wearing pajamas. Cute.

His fashion choices and bedhead paired nicely with the pout he wore when he shyly scanned the room. Altogether, everything about him assured me that he literally couldn’t have been less intimidating if he tried. That theory was further solidified by the way he shrunk against the counter when he saw me approach. By the time I sat down next to him, he’d all but disappeared under his jacket.

“Hey, you’re... Raymond, right?” The name came to me at the same time his eyes locked with mine. The dark hazel color shone almost gold in the orange hue of the bar.

“You’re Donald’s son?” I asked as warmly as possible while using his father’s name. Which is to say, not warm at all.  

“Unfortunately,” Raymond droned with a similar disdain.

“I’ll say,” I chuckled as I leaned forward to match his slouch over the bar. “I work with your dad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That alone seemed to cause a shift in his entire demeanor. It didn’t surprise me. Most of the women in this town were brainwashed into thinking that if a guy didn’t outright assault you at first glance, he was probably a solid dude.

And Donald Wadsworth was not a solid dude.

“He’s like, a giant fucking asshole,” I said.

Raymond’s eyes lit up.

“Right?!” he shouted back, practically falling from his seat in his enthusiasm as he continued to yell, “I know!”

There was no keeping it together with this caricature of a man, but I didn’t really want to, either. In the few seconds I’d interacted with him, everything about him changed from defensive to relaxed. Like all he needed was someone to tell him that it wasn’t all in his head.

Unfortunately, I was going to need to ask something of him. But I figured he wouldn’t mind what I was going to request.

“But hey, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I have a favor to ask you.” I kept my tone even and nonchalant, trying to avoid coming off as parental.

He eyed me as warily as I expected, tugging his drink a little bit closer as he started to shrink in on himself again.

“I’m gonna be honest,” he mumbled, “there’s not really anything I can do to hurt him that I haven’t already tried.”

There was no need for self-degradation. Raymond might have thought he tried everything, but from his body language around a woman, it was safe to assume he’d never tried my plan.

“Wanna bet?”

Raymond sighed in surrender before he shrugged, “Sure. What’s the favor?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

It wasn’t my intention to wait until the drink was in his mouth before I spoke, but it was how it ended up happening. And almost instantaneously, he spat the drink out over the bar before calmly squeaking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want to have sex with you,” I repeated like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then I sought confirmation that was only a little important in the grand scheme of things. “You’re staying at his place, right?”

“Just for tonight, yeah—" he started, but all I heard was the ding of a checkmark on my mental list that meant we were cleared for the next step.

“Great. We should do it there, then. Tonight.”

Raymond’s tongue stuck out from between his teeth, the visual of restraint matching his narrowed, shifty eyes and fidgety legs.

“I feel like I’m missing something...” he muttered.

I heard him, but I didn’t really care. The clock was running, and I was ready to get something good out of this night. Possibly even two good things, if he ended up being as helpful as his cute, submissive demeanor implied.

“I’ll drive. You want to go now?”

“I— I mean, sure, yeah,” he stumbled over the words and his own feet as he left the bar. “We can… go have sex.”

I laughed at how cool he tried to sound because he definitely failed. I reached past him to drop cash on the bar and grabbed his hand on the way back. The amount of warmth stormed it in was shocking, considering all the blood seemed to be in his face, ears, and the tent in his pants. But the comfort of his fingers interlocking with mine on instinct did more for me than he knew.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Raymond was silent on the way out and into the car, which was about what I expected from him. Every glance his way would show the gears slowly turning in his head, like he was still trying to grasp whether my proposition was serious. Like I was trying to murder him or something.

When the car started, so did some sliver of confidence in him, although he still cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you need directions, or…?”

“No, I’ve been to his place before.”

That caution and suspicion returned and multiplied, and before I even pulled out of the parking lot he had shrugged down in the seat and buried his face in his hands.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck my dad,” he whined in the most dramatic manner possible.

I couldn’t blame him for the theatrics, although the implication was not at all appreciated.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I spat, my face curling into a pure expression of disgust. At least we both felt similarly on that note.

“Thank god.” The relief flowed through him, allowing him to sit back up to his previously half-straight position. I decided that it was probably best to cut him some slack for assuming I would ever fuck that devil of a man, because I got the sinking suspicion that he might have known a couple girls his age that had done exactly that.

That thought led me back to the very reason I was there at all, and a chill ran down my spine as I muttered without thinking, “Wasn’t for a lack of his trying, though.”

The whole tone in the car shifted in seconds. One glance over at Raymond confirmed the repressed rage and sadness rolling off of him in waves that were more accurately described as a tsunami.

It was just unsettling enough that I snapped my eyes back to the road, giving a nervous chuckle to tell him that it wasn’t that serious. I didn’t need him to defend my honor, or anything. It did enough to quell most of the rage, but that self-pitying sadness was still there when he let out a shy, quiet plea.

“I don’t want to pry but… Will you tell me what this is about?”

“You really want to know?”

It was one thing to know the vague generalities of how much his father sucked, but another thing entirely to paint him a vivid depiction of what he was willing to do.

“Yeah,” he said with fiddling hands, “I think.”

I think he was trying to do me a favor. I think listening to my story was meant to be a sign to me that there were people who would care — people who would believe me. He clearly didn’t actually want to hear the story, but I appreciated his willingness to experience some discomfort to make up just a small part of his father’s misdeeds.

“So, I’m new at the school, right? It’s awkward. It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone,” I started, trying to look over at Raymond whenever I could to show him that I was doing alright. The poor thing looked like he needed the reassurance more than I did.

“Your dad very quickly tried to take me under his wing, despite my very obvious discomfort.”

“Sounds like him,” he interrupted with a pissed-off murmur.

“Yeah. I just kind of accepted his help because I was too scared to say no, but then one day he…” My voice trailed off, the words getting clogged in my throat and muddled on my tongue. It wasn’t that bad of a story; it should have been easier to explain. But something about Raymond being there, him listening to me so intently and with such a strong desire to make it better, that made it hard to speak. Eventually, I managed to start again. “He cornered me in the damn teacher’s lounge and—“

“Please don’t give me a reason to kill him. I’ve been toeing that line my whole life, and I will definitely do it.”

That time when Raymond cut me off, it was very clear to me that he was not kidding. He enunciated the words so clearly, venom dripping from his tongue and his chest heaving with a determination coming through clear, despite his best efforts to hide it.

He was a sweet kid.

“He didn’t try to touch me or anything. It wasn’t like that,” I said with an awkward smile, reaching over to pat his thigh. The action alone seemed to calm him, almost like a dog that was being told to stand down.

He was a really cute kid.

But I had to finish this stupid story. I had to give him all the information so that he would know exactly why I’d invited myself into his bed. Sex is sort of a big deal, you know? I mean, not always, but the other party in spite sex should probably know who exactly the target is.

“He just made it very clear that he felt I owed him something, and I kindly told him to fuck off,” I concluded just as we pulled up the dirt drive. The bumps in the road seemed to shake some other memories in Raymond, and he just shook his head to rid himself of those, along with the story he’d just heard.

He looked over at me with a new understanding and something else.

“So that’s what this is about?”

“Yep,” I said with a pop of my lips to match the sound of my car door opening. He clambered out of the car much less gracefully, which was funny considering he’d had significantly less to drink.

But I figured I would have the decency not to laugh, instead just joining him on the passenger side of the car to finish our conversation before we went inside. I wanted to give him the chance to change his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Although I was the one who would have to deal with the brunt of the downfall, Donald wasn’t my family. Like, I wouldn’t be at his holiday dinners. Then again, I’m not sure Raymond would be, either.

When I looked up from the thought, Raymond was staring at me. It wasn’t like before, though. There was nothing suspicious or any sign of concern in his eyes. No, they were filled with a very different feeling.

“You want to fuck me just to spite my dad?” he asked with a deadly seriousness.

I thought about it for exactly one second before I shrugged at the extremely accurate summary.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“God,” Raymond practically groaned, throwing himself on me and pinning me against the car with his hips before he growled, “that’s so fucking hot.”

Those same lips that produced the words quickly covered mine with the same force he’d used to pin me against the metal. I didn’t fight him at first because, well, I didn’t want to. It was the first clear sign he’d given that he really wanted to do this, and who was I to argue with how he expressed his consent?

Also, he was like, a really, really good kisser. The desperation he felt came through in his tongue as it tangled with mine, drawing a quiet, muffled moan from me that alerted me to how quickly this would escalate if I didn’t shove the boy off me.

Which, I did.

“Raymond— inside,” I ordered with the little breath I had left.

He was confused for a second, almost like he’d blacked out in the meantime. But then his tongue swept over his lips, his hands digging through his pockets for his keys before he hastily answered, “Right. Let’s go.”

It made sense to be quiet then, as the two of us tip-toed through the much too large house. Our occasional giggles were louder than our feet, and the whole experience was seriously reminiscent of sneaking into your boyfriend’s house as a teenager. And when we walked through his bedroom door, the sight stirred up even older memories. From the UFO poster and alien sheets to the boxes filled with dinosaur toys and action figures, I felt like I’d walked straight through a time machine into Raymond’s childhood.

“Sorry about… all of this,” he said with an overly apologetic tone, like this scene didn’t perfectly suit what I was planning. Like it wouldn’t be salt in the wound for Donald to see me fucking his son in the most juvenile room I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Ugh, it’s perfect. You are literally a man-child.”

I didn’t mean it as an insult, but his nervous shifting told me he took it that way. But when I kicked off my shoes and started to disrobe my outer layers, it was becoming obvious to him again just how serious I was about this whole thing.

“Sorry, but—“

“Stop saying sorry, Raymond.”

“Sorry,” he squeaked back, doing the exact thing I’d just told him not to do. I shot him a warning glance and watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in return. Then, still worrying the hem of his pajama shirt between his fingers, he looked away as he asked, “Are you sure you actually want to have sex with me?”

I was a little too busy at first to answer him. I was already rustling through the bedside table to find a condom that I was absolutely positive would be there. When I finally found it, I turned my attention back to the blushing boy.

“Why are you asking? Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes!” he answered with a clear excitement, only to lose it immediately. “But I would have wanted to have sex with you even if my dad wasn’t a pervert.”

“Awww, thanks,” I cooed with feigned sincerity. Raymond was still just pouting, though. I was learning more each second just how starved of affirmation this boy had been. But it wasn’t like I could just start praising him; the poor thing would have whiplash if I wasn’t careful. There was no worse mood-killer than crying, either, so I settled for a joke.

“I’d probably have sex with you, too.”

“Probably?” he responded with a smile and a seat next to me.

“It’s pretty likely, depending on how much we talked first,” I explained as I helped him out of his coat. I even managed to start undoing his pajama top buttons before he realized it was happening.

He didn’t stop me when he did.

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or not,” he said, instead.

With a coquettish grin, I leaned in to whisper against his lips, “And you never will.”

There was absolutely no resistance from Raymond when I grabbed hold of his collar, tugging him on top of me as I laid down on the tiny twin bed. Despite all of his insecurity, he didn’t hesitate to kiss me again, either. This time it was somehow even more heated, like he was trying to pour all of his heart into it.

I almost warned him that he had better cool it if he didn’t want to risk getting me hooked, but I was too late. He was already busy undoing the buttons on my own top and gently kneading my chest through the fabric of my bra, and I was quickly losing track of which of us was more into what was happening.

It didn’t really matter, but just in case he was still worried that I might not want to be there, I snuck my hand down and under the waistband of his pajamas.

“Fuck!” he cursed in a hushed whisper, his body buckling forward far enough that he almost dropped all his weight on me. It was so damn cute that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be too loud or we’ll never get to the fun part,” I warned, my voice barely a whisper in his ear.

His very eloquent response was a breathless, “Shit.” I couldn’t blame him, though. It was honestly more than I expected him to be able to enunciate when I grabbed hold of his dick and began making soft strokes.

It was obvious that he was trying very hard to stay quiet, but the whimpers and whines were falling from his mouth so quickly that I was forced to kiss him just to muffle the noise. Thankfully, Raymond took the hint that he needed to be quiet and decided to redirect the attention from himself back to me. He accomplished that task by pulling away from me just far enough that he could grab hold of my pants and underwear and roughly pull them down my thighs. The speed and force lit a fire deep in my gut, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps as I allowed myself to enjoy just how badly he wanted me. I’m sure the spite thing had a lot to do with it, too, but it had been a long time since a man was so clearly into me. It was an unavoidable conclusion in every touch from him.

A much-too-loud moan caught in my throat when he returned, slipping his fingers into my heat as he laid another feverish kiss against my lips. But it broke almost immediately with his own choked moan, followed by a low, breathy observation.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting this.”

“Nope,” I replied quickly, trying to control the noises coming out of my mouth by replacing them with words. It only sort of worked when I keened, “Fuck, you’re better at this than I thought.”

Raymond didn’t even stop, continuing to curl his fingers inside of me with each thrust. He did smile, though. A cheeky, borderline annoying smile that told me he knew what a bastard he was being.

“Again, I can’t tell if that is a compliment,” he said with an overwhelming amount of sarcasm as he watched me squirm under him.

I chose to ignore the taunt, opting to grab the condom from the bedside table and throw it directly at his face instead. “Put the fucking condom on, Raymond.”

There was less commentary from the peanut gallery from that point on. I did enjoy the show, though. As I removed my bra, I watched with rapt fascination as he stripped himself of his clothes. My desire grew at an exponential rate at the sight of him slipping the condom on. I’d gotten some idea of the size of him with my hand, but to see something so lewd in such an innocent room and on his shy little figure was something else.

Raymond shrunk a little under my gaze, only regaining his confidence when he saw the way my teeth dragged over my bottom lip. I ran my hands over my body that was still on display for him, thoroughly enjoying the way I could make his eyes go wherever I wanted with such a simple motion.

“Fuck me, Raymond.”

I heard his breath catch and watched the shiver flow through him at the order. Sure enough, he started to follow my instructions and lined himself up at my entrance with adorably shaky hands. But then, right before I got what I came for, he paused.

“Are you su—“

I was tired of waiting. Hooking my leg around his waist, I forced Raymond to thrust forward. My assistance didn’t take any of the pleasure out of it when he was finally, fully inside of me. I couldn’t stop the way my back arched, pressing my chest against his with a wanton cry.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled into my hair, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he adjusted to the new set of sensations.

I only gave him a few seconds to get used to it, fully ready to get the release that already felt so close.

“Fuck me,” I whined, already starting to roll my hips against the boy blubbering curses into my skin.

“O-Okay,” he muttered in the most adorable fashion.

That shyness was contrasted strongly by what followed. For all his whimpers and trembling, Raymond didn’t seem to mind the way the bed would creak under us. In fact, it seemed that he was playing his own game, trying to elicit as many noises from me as he could get from the bed.

On instinct, my hands rose to try to still the headboard. But to my surprise, they never made it. The man above me had grabbed hold of one wrist, pinning it against the pillow to stop me. That simple, thoughtful act was enough to almost send me over the edge right then, but I held on for what I knew would come.

My moans were another story. They seemed so inevitable, with Raymond slamming into me with a progressively rougher force until I rode that line between pain and pleasure. I could see it on his face, too, that we were barreling full speed to the inevitable.

So, it was as good a time as any for me to set the next step in motion. With full volume and a pitch nearly an octave higher than usual, I screamed, “Yes, Raymond!”

That cheeky little bastard laughed. That noise was such music to my ears, that I couldn’t just stop there.

“God, yes! Fuck me harder!” I cried dramatically while drawing out the words. In a way, I was over exaggerating for effect, but I was also actually having a great time. In fact, it was the best sex I’d had in a long time.  

Raymond, catching on to the plan that I’d never explicitly explained, joined in with his own chant of my name, mixed with deep moans rumbling in his chest. I ran my nails down his back, seeking to elicit the higher pitched sounds I knew he was capable of when I realized just how much fun I was having with him.

It was also, of course, super fucking hot. But how often do you get to have this much fun with a random one night stand you found at the bar? Not often enough, I decided.

“Please, Raymond! Harder!” I begged, both in accordance with my previous moans and also because it was what I needed.

I couldn’t decide on a word to describe that wild look on his face, but Raymond had no problem following through with my request. Releasing my wrist, he sat up on his knees, grabbing hold of my hips and lifting them so that he could come down between them at a new angle.

That angle, it seemed, left him bottoming out inside of me with each brutal thrust. My legs were actually shaking around him, my back barely touching the bed as I threw my head back on that damn alien pillowcase.

The clacking of the headboard against the plaster shook the hung UFO picture, which ended up clattering behind it with about as much grace and subtlety as Raymond and I shared in that moment.

But that crashing also masked the sound of the door slamming open, just as I’d been waiting for. And for a long moment, neither of us even looked over to the light filtering in from the hallway. Instead, we locked eyes with each other as the two of us simultaneously reached our peak.

I was so, so glad that I didn’t look away. I kept my eyes firmly on Raymond as he threw his head back, forcing himself as deep in me as he could and holding me against him as I nursed him through his orgasm with my own. His mouth, though dropped open, was curved in a satisfied smile, one last moan tearing through the two of us before he promptly collapsed on top of me.

Then, it finally came. Donald’s voice bellowing, “What the fuck is going on in here?!”

 —

 As Raymond and I sat in my car that night, there was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Whether the catharsis was from the sex or the big fuck you to his father, the two of us were just basking in the afterglow of the overall experience.  

Of course, he was also laughing at the fact I was currently wrapped up in his alien bedsheet.

“We could’ve gotten your clothes, you know.”

“There was no way in hell I was going to drop this sheet in front of that man,” I said through my laughter, my mind replaying the chaos of the last few minutes over again in my head.

“Probably a good call,” Raymond answered.  

But then another thought occurred to me, which caused my face to contort into a disgusted grimace.

“You’d better go get my underwear and bra later, though. He cannot keep those.”

“Will do. Promise,” he said with a little nod that ended with him staring at me with an absolutely smitten look plastered on his face.

“You can keep them, though,” I offered, reaching over and pretending like I could actually fix the birds nest on his head.

“Thanks. I’m flattered,” he said while chasing after my hand that eventually settled on his cheek. His face was still flushed, his eyes still only half opened as he nearly fell asleep against my palm. I wondered if it was from the orgasm, or if it was just the first time in a while he’d felt safe enough to do it. He must’ve seen the worry in my eyes, because he interrupted the thought with another question.

“Did you accomplish your goal?”

I thought about it for a second, dragging my fingers down his face before I pulled back with a sigh. “I feel satisfied,” I decided. “What about you?”

Raymond also took the chance to think about it before he nodded with more enthusiasm than before.

“I feel pretty good,” he said proudly.

“That’s all? Just pretty good?” I replied with an annoyed click of my tongue. I mean, I was wrapped in his bedsheets after just helping him achieve one of the most satisfying catharses of his life, and all he had to say was ‘pretty good?’

But then I saw it, that little sparkle in his eyes that showed me he just wanted to rile me up before he gave his real answer.  

“It was fucking glorious.”

It wasn’t even the words that filled my heart with pride, but the way his whole expression softened as he said it. He obviously meant it with every fiber of his being, and I couldn’t help but fall in love a little bit at the sight.

“Sorry I got you kicked out,” I said to distract myself from that dangerous line of thought.

“Not the first time. Hopefully the last,” he nonchalantly shrugged as I turned the key in the ignition. We hadn’t actually planned on what to do from this point, but I certainly had some ideas.  

“You can stay at my place,” I slurred through my exhaustion, “I have a guest bedroom if you feel weird staying in mine.”

But Raymond didn’t answer. He just laughed, shaking his head and rubbing a heavy hand over his tired eyes.

“What?” I asked, a little worried I’d made a mistake.

“Nothing,” he reassured with that stupid fucking grin that was soon aimed straight at me, “it’s just… You’re asking me if I want to sleep with you. Again.”

“Yeah, what about it?” I laughed, turning to pull out of the driveway. The bumps didn’t bother Raymond that time.

“I’d love to,” he said as we turned onto the main road, his hand finding mine on the gear shift.

“Great.” Allowing the relief to flow through his hand and into me, I realized that the reason I’d had so much fun with this random one night stand was because a large part of me knew it was never going to be just that.

“You know, my bed’s not a twin, and it doesn’t creak, so…” I trailed off, hoping that he would be clever enough to put it together.

“So what?”

He was not. But that was okay, because I realized that was exactly what I loved about him.

“Never mind,” I sighed, “I’ll show you in the morning.”

——————————————————

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

[creacherkeeper]

im getting a little too in my family feels today and so INSTEAD of feeling those im just going to ramble for a second about why i fucking love paladin!aelwyn because. im. just like this i guess im coping leave me alone

cw for discussions of child abuse, maladaptive coping, drugs and alcohol, self harm, destructive tendencies, basically everything we see in canon and the implications

aelwyn is ... SO interesting to me because for as much of her interiority as we see, as much of her as we think we understand, as much as i could ramble about her character for hours, we know ALMOST NOTHING about her in actuality?? (besides ... one key thing)

(this is like 2k and probably incoherent someone please stop me)

okay. listen. almost everything we see aelwyn do in s1 is maladaptive rebellion against her parents and home life. the drinking, the drugs, the partying, perhaps some of kalvaxus (though i dont think we fully understand how much of that was forced on her as well, kalina WAS watching her when she was talking to adaine about it). you can say like, oh aelwyn is a party animal, she's impulsive, she makes risky decisions, she's bitchy and rude, and its like. okay but IS SHE ACTUALLY. because under her parents thumb she had an EXTREMELY limited amount of freedom, and usually when people are suffering from very little control over their life, they WILL act destructively over the tiny bit they can, either harming themselves or their environment or people lower than them in the pecking order, because in a way, that feels like a reclamation of autonomy. saying "you have so much power over me but can you stop me from hurting myself and destroying what you havent managed to claim yet?". its just like, kind of what human brains do and frequently has little to do with a persons actual personality or impulses, its just. desperate brains trying to control SOMETHING because autonomy is a fundamental human need and when thats taken away we get. very bad off. (this is one big reason eating disorders are SO common with abused kids.) so i think a lot of the s1 aelwyn we see is like. this is a very desperate, abused teenager "acting out" in the only way it is possibly somewhat safe for her to do so because, on a psychological level, the self destruction is weirdly the only emotional tether and its either this or just dissociate all the time (something we do see she has problems with in canon)

and yes, she did treat adaine horribly in s1. she fully did. obviously what we get in canon is what happens but a moment thats interesting to me is in episode 1 where adaine has attacked aelwyn several times, who either does nothing or just bounces it back, when she says "i never cast spells at you" and siobhan immediately retcons it and says "yes you do, all the time" (i havent gone back and watched this bit so i might be wording this wrong). obviously its an improv show and the canon is built between performers as they go, but that was interesting to me. that brennan hadnt intended for her to have fought back in that way. she definitely feeds into the emotional abuse from their parents and participates in all the toxicity there, but we know in canon that she did that because of overwhelming fear and self preservation. and that her self hatred because of it just fed back into the cycle and made her feel like she wasnt good enough to even try to break free from it. this is very common in golden child/scapegoat sibling relationships where the golden child SEES what the parents are capable of and becomes a participant in the abuse out of fear for their own standing. in any way siding with the scapegoat child not only directs abuse at themselves as well, but frequently makes things WORSE for the scapegoat because the parents will take out the challenge to their power on them even more. so, if aelwyn DID ever try to defend or help adaine when they were small, she would have VERY QUICKLY learned that made things worse for everyone. and just. sectioned that part of her brain off, as she's done with so many other things. (and i dont think im reading too much into the forest scene with the abernants to say their parents were VERY QUICK to turn abuse towards aelwyn if she stepped out of line even a little. like, you dont flinch when a hand moves unless. you know. dont need to say it just something to think about. as far as we saw in canon, she had done everything they asked of her leading up to the forest, and we DONT KNOW what happened in it but we do know brennan specifically called out how in broken spirits she was when adaine was summoned, even though they did the ritual to avoid all of the nightmare bullshit)

(the house party is literally a whole separate post but i think its fair to point out that 1) she was super under the influence when that was happening which DEFINITELY is in no way an excuse for her behavior but worth remembering when trying to analyze that 2) her losing that fight did canonically have DRASTIC consequences for her and even if she didnt know exactly how that was going to turn out, i think she knew how bad it might be. and she did not know adaine or any of the bad kids were going to be there in the first place)

all that said, it feels in some ways counterproductive to say that aelwyn is an extremely devoted and protective person (yes we're getting to the paladin shit i know i've been rambling a while) but i think that thats strangely ALL WE ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT HER. because we've established that her self-destructive and abusive behavior in s1 is almost entirely psychologically scripted for her by her parents, we dont know how much of her villain shit in s1 was LITERALLY UNDER THREAT OF DEATH because we know at least killing the oracle was and we dont know how much of the rest of it was mandated by either her parents or kalina other than that she probably was under orders not to tell adaine the truth, and we know participating in all of this caused extreme self loathing in her that she refused to show to anybody and was too terrified to act on in any way

so, like. what does that actually leave us?

here's what we do know about aelwyn:

- of all the schools of magic, she went into abjuration

- the entire bbeg plan from season 1 hinged on aelwyn's complete faith that her level 1 sister was the most prodigious diviner in the world

- right after (?) the house party, she locked her memories where only adaine could find it with a note basically saying "theres so much bad blood between us but i know only you could find this"

- she desperately wanted to protect adaine and the fact that she was too afraid to do so made her hate herself (and her knowing that adaine now knows this is the turning point in their relationship)

- despite everything, even in the nmk forest, she still loved her parents

- the SECOND she is shown genuine love and affection and care from adaine, and adaine says whatever you do, i am here with you, all her actions from there forward are just about protecting adaine from their father, very nearly at the cost of her own life

- with what she probably thought were her last words (and would have been if adaine hadnt given her the tincture), all she wanted to communicate was how to help adaine and the bad kids, and how despite everything she had always believed in her

- at five levels of exhaustion, unconscious, she used her first spell slot after nine months of torture to build a shield around adaine

NOW we get to paladin!aelwyn. because, once everything is stripped away, the abuse and the control and the maladaption and the threats and the torture, EVERYTHING we ACTUALLY can glean about aelwyn's personality and inner core is that she's protective and devoted. and of course classes arent locked by personality, but that just screams paladin to me. its her WHOLE THING. adaine even says "wizards dont have heals, we dont care about other people" and of COURSE that isnt true for either of them, but? mechanically? aelwyn chose the wizard school that DID let her protect, and DID let her help, but i dont think, at this point, going forward, thats really going to be enough for her (and we could also talk about the parallels between them, how often adaine uses her portents to help other people)

i think a lot of the different reads on aelwyn come from this fundamental disconnect between her actions and displayed personality vs who she actually is and what she actually wants. and i think there are very different interpretations of what thats going to look like for her going forward. but i think, for a girl who's most hated characteristic about herself was her self preservation at the detriment of others, her perceived selfishness, and her fear ... isn't choosing to be braver and more selfless and more protective and shedding that self-preserving instinct for the betterment of others ... and MECHANICALLY being able to act on all those things ... the logical next step? i think its going to be a LONG TIME before aelwyn can love herself, but what other way is there to try? if adaine loves her, and adaine believes she can be better, isnt being better because she trusts adaine kind of a form of self love? saying, i dont believe in myself, but i believe in the person who believes in me, and maybe, in a roundabout way, thats the same thing. she was never able to TRY to be better before, because trying to improve even a little, even when people arent watching, when a harmful force has so much power over you and your actions ... like, the mental dissonance is honestly TOO much to even try, thats WAY more terrifying than letting yourself be bad, to the point where thats psychologically impossible for a lot of people. but now she actually has space and freedom and CHOICE and she CAN embrace the instincts she always had to shove down, she CAN be the person she knows her sister needed her to be

i dont know, i think theres an inherent love letter to yourself in wanting to be better and wanting to improve, even if you justify it by saying its for someone else. and now aelwyn actually CAN improve, and thats probably going to be extremely awkward and scary and there will be set backs and backslides for sure. but. i dont know. i think she wants to make up for lost time. because she never wanted the time to be lost in the first place. and if a protector is who she always wanted to be, whats stopping her from being that now?

[yuraimi-lee-bunny]

GRAY’S CHARACTER ANALYSIS PART III. AMNESIA AND IT’S FUTURE CONSEQUENCES

Hello! Once again: sorry for the lateness 8'D. My work, some illustrations and personal matters have slowed me down again. The good thing is that there is nothing that can be intervened and this week I will be able to go faster with the writing of my analysis. Thank you very much for the continued support you have given to the previous two parts, and I hope you like this one too!

PS: My analysis will continue as normal, I will not mention anything about the recent interview with the show runner of the series. Perhaps that will be done at the end of the analysis or a separate post, by the time Gray's analysis is complete. Besides that I have already been giving my views on what Duane said about Gray. For the moment I just want my analysis to be about everything that I captured and analyzed before the interview.

Here we go!

Goodbye (for now) to Gray/Crackle, and let's say hi to Graham!

As we know, Crackle had all his VILE-related memories erased, and he’s now a happy civilian at his previous job as an electrician at the Sydney Opera House. On a mission to Australia, Carmen finds him but he doesn't recognize her.

Carmen doesn’t understand how it happened and why VILE did it, but for his sake, she prefers to get away from her, because she doesn’t want to complicate the new beginning that Gray/Graham has now in her life.

To be honest, I don't have much to analyze in depth about Gray in these chapters where he has amnesia, even so, there are several points to highlight about him that speak more about his personality in this episode:

1.- When he taking out Carmen with her phrase "No wristband, no backstage access", I think I can safely say that he’s committed to his job, whatever it is. (as an electrician and also a VILE agent)

2.- He has great self-confidence and temperance for having invited Carmen for a coffee, a girl he barely knew but who shows that he has a slight attraction for her.

3.- Well, let's say that this confirms that he likes to be somewhat "naughty" and daring with his actions.

4.- I may be exaggerating here, but I think that with the previous points that I have said, this can also count: It seems that Gray is a punctual person. He arrived before Carmen. (He’s very punctual or he was very excited about the "date")

Ep.6 S1 served as a small introduction by Gray, or rather now Graham, of how now he has amnesia, he doesn't remember anything about VILE, or Carmen, a whole year "disappeared", as well as the decision of Carmen about being away from Gray so as not to complicate his life. Leaving a slight reminder of "you'll still see him again" for us.

Which did happen, in Ep.7 of S2. In addition to the fact that again there are some data that show about his personality, this time the episode left some clues that it was happening to him and the future that would hold him in the following seasons.

1.- It seems that he was serious that this place is his favorite coffee shop, and it seems that he likes coffee.

2.- That tranquility is to be admired. The girl he invited for coffee who looked like she had dumped him, and there wasn’t a hint of anger/resentment/indignation in him. Again, like when they first met: as if nothing had happened. I love that about him. And he continues to correct Carmen about his name. He is Graham, not Gray (not Crackle). It seems somehow that he cares about being told by his respective name, as if the subject of his "identity" is important to him. We will move on to that later.

3.- Can we look this screenshot for a moment, please? Leaving aside the “Red Crackle” feeling that can emerge at this time for many (myself included), I want to talk about the fact that there continues that communication with only the look that they have always had.

The first two chapters of the series showed you several scenes of how Carmen and Gray just by looking at each other communicated what they thought, they knew they wanted to say to each other. I mention this because to me, these glances between them were purposely done with the following objective: Yes, Gray will have had his VILE memories suppressed, but body memory is another matter, the subconscious is something that NOBODY can handle or manipulate. Gray's body responded to Carmen's glances subconsciously, the body responded because of body memory, because it already has that mechanism in the presence of Carmen.

4.- There is a theory/belief that a few weeks ago they shared which if I can believe it 50/50 because it sounds valid. In summary. Since Gray is an orphan, Carmen knew that by mentioning that she runs an international charity for abandoned children, he would not refuse. Because she knows he's an orphan, and it seems that somehow, Gray has had a mark on it. She left you the link.

5.- Again, maybe I'm exaggerating, b Gray/Graham seems to have very good manners.

6.- He likes Rock. (And before I thought it was a slight preview of Carmen's next cappers, but it was only an idea *sobbing*)

7.- 

This scene causes me a little laugh because of a personal event and because it shows an interesting side of Gray/Graham: 

- Personal event: Several friends and I were watching the episodes of the second season on the day of its premiere, when arriving at this scene, a friend said "Well of course, he will have amnesia but he isn’t stupid" I laughed uncontrollably, and in part, he had a bit of reason.

- This scene in addition to putting tension at the moment because Graham did something that wasn't in Carmen's plans, it shows how Gray/Graham is someone who needs answers/explanations when he something doesn't understand, or when he thinks they lied to him and he just goes to look for them. Because if he were too passive or behaved, he would have stayed to follow orders. Another thing he could do is just make judgments from his perspective, regardless of reality. But no, he stood up, and he couldn't wait another second for the answers. The truth is something that matters to him. And I think he's also somewhat rebellious. He makes sense because throughout the series it's noticed as if he wants/needs something, certainly does what he needs to do. I consider him too independent and confident that he can achieve it.

8.- His peculiar expression of surprise: Crikey.

9.- Another reminder that  his subconscious and unconscious have memories of what he lived in VILE.

10.- Beautiful Red Crackle scenes that in addition to adding feeling, actually matter a lot for Gray / Crackle's empathy in the future, but that will be for part 4 of the analysis.

11.- 

…Seriously Gray? EXCUSE ME Graham. SERIOUSLY? You fell, you could have hit severely or even broken something, Carmen cares about you, and instead of saying "I'm fine" do you say "It's Graham"?! ... Seriously he cares a lot about the name and identity.

As you can see, in this episode there was more about Gray and his personality, but it also hinted that there are still vestiges of memories in the back of his mind of that year in VILE and of having been Crackle. It's very curious about how Graham trusts Carmen so much, I think I know the reasons behind it, the first is because he has an attraction towards Carmen, but the most important are two: the first is because he already knows more about her, because Carmen had the confidence to ask him for help in one of his missions and to tell him in some way what she does. The second reason, again: his subconscious. As I mentioned in the previous analysis parts, Gray appreciated Carmen very much, and although before he could mistake it as "loyalty" and see her as her family, he still appreciated her very much. Her subconscious, her body, her instinct is still there, so I don't hesitate to defend her when she was in trouble with Neel. (His desire to help Carmen was greater than the "great memory and liking" he previously had for Crackle Rod.)

And well, now, let's move on to two last things before ending this episode:

1.- ACME is targeting Gray. Once again, we were told that it would not be the last time we would see him. More events awaited him.

2.-

This phrase left me so thoughtful when I watched it. It left me thinking TOO MUCH.

It left me pondering that phrase so much because I didn't understand why that mattered so much to him. We talked about how Gray/Crackle came into VILE, he agreed to be a villain, he basically agreed to be "bad guy" And now that he has amnesia, he cared about being on the right side. Which I didn't understand because Crackle's memory had been "erased". He had only "eliminated" him the whole year that he lived in VILE, just that. Doing that doesn't change his morale, because Gray had already arrived at the "Vocational School" with his morale of wanting to steal, he was already ambitious before joined to VILE. Which had me very intrigued, believing that something had happened to Graham, in that period of his "normal life" that had made him reconsider his morals and that now he wanted to do something good. I expected everything, whatever, except the change in morals. And so, wild first 5 minutes from S4 comes...

... are you telling me that EVERYTHING Gray thought, did and said in his state of amnesia... WERE LIES!?

I really couldn't believe it and that puts an absolutely huge twist on Gray's arc. Although my boyfriend and I are with a certain difference in perspective to what Maelstrom said:

When he mentioned “suppress the criminal impulse” to me he meant that VILE changed his morale, that they basically took away that “evil impulse” so that he wouldn’t be caught again by the law should it happen at some point. Ensuring that with memory removed and morale changed, VILE was safe.

My boyfriend on the other hand, interpreted it that they only took away the "desire to steal", nothing more. His morals, his beliefs, everything about him remains the same, except wanting to steal or do something criminal. Believing that in reality, Gray is a good person, since before entering VILE.

The perspective of my boyfriend is interesting to me and that is why I want to share it, to know what you think, and also mentioned it because this perspective will be taken up again in part 4 of the analysis.

And here concludes the third part! I hope you liked it. Parts 4 and 5 will be a bit long because it’s the most dense and symbolic part of Gray to analyze, but at the same time, they will come out on time faster, it may be that in the following week both parts are ready and published.  Regards!

Part. I Introdution

Part. II Empathy vs Ambition 

Part. III Amnesia and it’s Future Consequences (HERE)

Part. III.5 Graham Calloway: The Walking Enigma

Part. IV Integrity At a high (and unfair) price

Part. V The final decision and a new beginning

Plus 1. Gray and his strange habit of explaining things

Plus 2. Crossover: Sabrina And Gray: New Beginning

Plus 3. Crossover: Hawk/Eli and Crackle/Gray: Redemption

[funkymbtifiction]

Fi / Attachment Types

I just want to talk a little bit about being an ENFP and an attachment type (6). I was listening to the Big Hormone Podcast last night talk about attachment types and their struggle to decide anything, because there’s a “yes/no/maybe” internal reaction going on, and I have to say that’s true. It’s like simultaneously wanting to say yes, and be attached, and say no, and remain free of attachment. I’m not really sure how I feel most of the time, which makes my Fi kind of hazy.

Since I get asked this over and over (what is Fi? Am I an ENTP or an ENFP?), let’s talk about Fi. It’s a self-referencing system, where you go away from everyone else to decide how you feel about something and measure it against your inner self. It’s the need to live in accordance to your conscience, and it’s a thing inside you that tells you if this is okay, not okay, or “I don’t care.” With me, some things are automatic. I knew when I saw the trailer that I hated the Robert Downey Jr. version of Sherlock Holmes. I didn’t need to see the film, I just hated it. When I did see the film, Ne didn’t change my mind. I still hated it. I even got offended when my friends likened me to Irene Adler. I’m not sure if they meant temperament or vibes, but that annoyed me, to be “likened” to something I hate.

This reaction was instinctive and irreversible. It’s not rational; it’s a value judgment with me as the standing judge and jury: I. Hate. This. I have the same visceral reaction whenever I see a historical figure being maligned, because they can’t defend their reputation. I hate it. This is what Fi is like. It’s an unconscious NOPE that you cannot explain, that makes sense to nobody else, and that is immediate and abstract and you don’t know how to put it into words except NO. I won’t stand for this!!

(Including a gif, because I have a sense of humor about it now.)

This happens to me on and off, here and there. It’s not all the time, and I don’t let my inner responses override my intuition. In other words, I can give someone a fair trial in my mind (seeing their point of view) instead of dismissing them, even if I disapprove of their behavior. Superficial Fi judgments are immediate and fixed, if I can just see or hear something and respond to it… but when it comes to REAL emotions, everything is up in the air. They’re not a Yes/No. This whole argument about Dean being ISFJ or ISFP has sparked some stuff in my past, because I identify with Rory at times in terms of the “I don’t know what I want” aspect of her behavior. I’d never cheat on a boyfriend with someone else, but I’ve been in that place where I don’t know what I want, really, or if I want this friend in my life, and if not, how do I get out of it? I can’t even decide if I want to ask a friend to go somewhere this weekend with me, because I don’t know if I want to go to that place in the first place, or if I’m just being nostalgic. It has become this whole debate in my mind, because I don’t know how I feel, or if it matters, or if the drive would be worth it. And that is how I live my entire life. Of not being sure what I want most of the time or how I feel.

I know this can be incredibly annoying to other people, and that’s one reason I haven’t sought any close friendships in person for a long time, because I know I do the “yes/no/maybe” with them. They’re never quite sure how I feel about them or where I stand or if I’m in this friendship for the long haul or not. Because I’m a reliable person, I stick around, but there’s often giant question marks over my head about how I feel about them. Being a 6, I keep them at a slight distance while also needing them around. I wish I were a gut type, because then I’d just know by how people make me react to them if I like them or not, but instead, it all goes through my head. It sparks endless questions. I don’t listen to my heart because it doesn’t scream at me very loud. My brain is much louder.

Most of the time, I don’t know how I feel about something. I’m going through a slump right now and I’m not sure why, but nothing is holding my interest. I don’t want to do anything. And figuring out what the cause of this is hard, because Fi can’t tell me through the haze of being an attachment type. All I can do as a 6 is ask questions about it – over-think it, like usual. Does my loss of interest in this mean I am tired of it, doesn’t want to do it, or is this just a temporary slump and will I feel differently next week? Would I be happier if I dumped this? Is that what I want? I’m trying to figure out, from a logical place what my emotions are doing, which is impossible, because Fi isn’t rational, it’s subjective and based in the moment. Things happen, and it reacts. All I know today is, “I don’t care about this.” Being a responsible person, an attachment type, I will do it if it needs done anyway, because I am not a quitter. But a very large part of me wishes I could just be “irresponsible” (to my own mind) and slack off on everything. Just dump people and walk away. Just delete things when I’m bored with them. But I can’t, because Fi says “that isn’t who you are. That would make you feel miserable and unhappy, to be someone who just abandons things/people like that.”

So it’s a catch 22 most of the time. How do I feel? Does it matter? Should it factor into this? Am I just being sentimental here? Do I want this person in my life? Do I care about this hobby? Can I understand that point of view? What would I do in their shoes? Can I relate? It’s a life of never-ending questions, combined with a very real need to always be growing and moving forward and when I’m not feeling like that is happening, I get restless and frustrated. Determining Fi isn’t a case of “am I emotional or rational?” It’s very much a sense of, “Am I being the best possible person I can be, in order to live with and LIKE myself? Can I live with myself if I make this decision? Is this who I am?”

Sometimes you can’t, and that’s more difficult than you can imagine. Every place I have let myself down is like this huge, glaring sign of regret hanging up in my mind. You didn’t live up to yourself, you caused pain, you knew you couldn’t live with it and you did it anyway… Fi is about looking at the past, identifying what you did wrong in that situation (whatever makes you feel the worst or like you failed yourself), and then trying to use it as a guideline going forward. AKA, this made me feel like crap, so I never want to do it again. I’ll never just stand there and listen to someone insult my friend… I’ll never not defend what I think; next time I know I have to do something about this…

So I guess, just cut the attachment types in your life a break. They don’t always know what they want, and it’s as confusing and annoying for them as it is for you if you’re not one. And don’t vilify Fi as being selfish or idolize it as being more moral than Fe, because it isn’t. It’s subjective, abstract, hard to understand even for the Fi user (hence the needing to go away and think deeply about how this is making you feel in order to figure it out), and doesn’t make any sense half the time, because it’s just based on “yeah, nope, and I don’t care.”

One time a friend found out I’m not close to my sisters and said she was sorry, because she loves her sisters. I honestly said, “I don’t care.” I didn’t. I don’t. I don’t know them, so why would I care about not being close to them? But that surprised her, and in turn, it made me ask Ne/Fi-related questions: is a lack of caring an implication that I should care? Am I missing out on something? I can’t force myself to care, can I? Should I try to care? Why??

Fi isn’t “do I make emotional choices,” it’s “Do I care and is this me?” and it’s continuous, a sort of “self-focused” determination in all things, through all questions, to find out Who I Truly Am. And it’s much easier for IFPs to do this than EFPs, because IFPs ask this all the time, instantly. EFPs think, well, I need to either find out who I am through direct action and experiences (do things and react to them - Se) or through intellectual debate (ask myself philosophical questions and react to them - Ne). ENFPs have an extremely difficult time self-typing because they are so “heady” in terms of Ne that they often don’t realize how many of their choices are determined subjectively according to their internal reactions. It’s not a logical Ti process in terms of “how does this work,” it’s more about “how do I work?” Who am I??

I should also add that being a 6, I don’t take on too many hobbies or interests that I take seriously, because the double-thinking that Ne and 6-9 do together is emotionally exhausting. I don’t have the mental energy to double-think 900 things, so it’s easier for me just to say no to things that I know automatically will be an energy suck. This is problematic in the long run, however, because without a variety of interests and new information, Ne gets bored. So I need to keep my Ne fed with enough new information and hobbies that it’s satisfied in thinking about things, without introducing the need to make “decisions” with that information, which would cause me to over-think and stall out.