#being a female at birth is miserable when it comes to health care =]

[ice-reblogs]

If there is a God

I want to rip out my uterus with my bare hands and devour it like a rabid animal in front of him

And after I'm done, I want to stand up and look at him, blood dripping from my jaw; and tell him to pray for my forgiveness for making me suffer in the wrong body

[juniaships]

Vanessa Marble-Whittaker Bio **redux**

I had to delete the old post due to spelling mistakes and to add more info, but here is the official character bio for my AIO OC....possibly the only one in existence 😅 Contains spoilers and subject matter of abuse & postpartum depression; if you're curious you might have to do look into the main story arcs of AIO for easier understanding.

Full Name: Vanessa Crystal Marble Whittaker (nee Marble;)

Age: Unspecified but around late 20s to mid 30s

Birthday: May 15th

Race: African American (with European ancestry on both sides)

Fandom: Adventures in Odyssey

Voice Claim: Cree Summer; Vivica A. Fox is also a good alternate

Character Role: Heroine & love interest/spouse of Jason Whittaker

Items: Cross necklace, Midnight Manor (formerly Blackgaard's Castle)

Relationships

Family: Robienne Marble (mother), Regis Blackgaard (father), Edwin Blackgaard (uncle), Jerry Jr. (son, infant), John Whittaker (father in law), Monty (nephew in law), Jana (sister in Law)

Friends at Whit's End: Whit, Eugene, Connie, Katrina, Angel (pet doberman)

Acquaintances: Nuns, denizens of Odyssey

Love Interest: Her primary love interest and eventual husband is Jason Whittaker. They began as tensse & awkward relationship during the Blackgaard Saga duento their contrasting personalities, before becoming close friends and allies. They do not become completely official until after Novacom. Their relationship is regarded as the bonafide example of "Opposites Attract" in Odyssey.

Enemies: While enemies are far and few, she considers her own father as the major obstacle between her and a peaceful life. She was a major player against Novacom. She had a brief yey tense rivalry with Monica Stone (partly for Jason's affections) but the two made peace at the end.

Appearance

- Average height (say, 5'7)

-Brown skin, light brown eyes, and wavy-curly black hair

-Has an average body type (pear shaped) and seemed to gain a few pounds since giving birth

-Typically were darker shades of purple, blue, with the occasional maroon

-Sense of fashion is put together, professional even if casual

- Still has her nun fatigues

Personality

Vanessa is a composed and reserved lady with a deep connection to God, while respecting other religions (and non religious). While seen as a cold person at first glance, she is actually very kind and open-minded, though she isn't immune to making sardonic comments once in a while. While not really great around kids, she has moments of being supportive. After becoming a mother she is rather clueless, though well-meaning and tries her hardest to be the parent her father wasn't.

One of her biggest obstacle is overcoming her aloof demeanor. She needed to learn to open up to others and to out faith in her new friends. Even now she still has her moments of keeping her true emotions, though she has a wide circle of friends and a spouse to talk to. Vanessa was also ashamed of her Blackgaard blood, though she learns to come to terms with her past in order to create a brighter future for herself and the rest of her family. Sometimes she is prone to feeling inadequate and jealous, especially during brief periods of romantic rivalry.

There is a fierce protective side that comes out when loved ones are threatened, as seen with the Blackgaard and Novacom Sagas. She dislikes staying on the sidelines and does whatever she can to help out. She even broke her vows to protect her mother Robienne when Regis came into town, and later inspired her uncle Edwin to stay and fight her father to help save Odyssey.

While studious snd intelligent, Vanessa is not very tech savvy, naturally preferring traditional mediums such as writing letters and books. While she learns how to use computers and cellphones, don't expect her to be a technophile anytime soon. She expresses curiosity and concerns over the next invention hubby makes.

Abilities

Vanessa can memorize a lot a bible verses which she uses as prayer, or as a quip. She also has taken self defense classes to hold her her own.

- Strengths: In her early years she proved to be surprisingly strong and fast when need be. She can adapt to certain situations and keep her cool. Clever and resourceful, Vanessa often thinks and plans her actions. She can speak three languages (Spanish, French, and Mandarin Chinese) and plans om studying more.

- Weaknesses: After pregnancy she isn't as physically strong and has to limit herself to recover, and can be overpowered by much stronger foes. Vanessa is not very good at advanced technology, and she is a bad cook (Jason keeps her away from the stove as much as possible).

Backstory Vanessa was the only child of Regis and Robienne Blackgaard. Their marriage had be a short and rocky one marred by neglect, emotional manipulation and mental abuse. Finally, on the guidance of Edwin (Regis's brother) Robienne decided she had enough and divorced Regis when Vanessa was two years old. Robienne moved her daughter to New England to be with family, and the two lived peacefully after that. After graduating high school, Vanessa went to the nunnery and stayed there for a few years, while Robienne moved to the Midwest to pursue a career in teaching.

However Vanessa soon grew discontent, feeling as though she was missing out on normal young adult life. Should she stay as a nun or forge her own path?

She would find clues to her answer in the form of receiving news about her father moving to Odyssey - the same town her mother lived. Fearing for her mother's life, Vanessa requested a temporary break in vows, family business, she had said. Settling in Odyssey (under the surname Newman) she got a job working at Whit's End and as a private tutor.

Following major and minor events including the Blackgaard, Novacom, and Green Ring Conspiracy drama, Jason proposed to Vanessa, and they had a summer wedding (but not before overcoming premarital jitters and a threat from Jason's past). Two years after their union (or as of current Odyssey storyline) they had a little boy named Jerry Jr. (named after Jason's deceased brother). Vanessa continues to work at Whit's End as a curator and artist.

Major Storylines: If she was canon she would've been a major player in some of Odyssey's biggest stories including:

- Blackgaard Saga: Her debut, she came to town to take care of her mother & to confront her father on troubled past. She was hired to work at Whit's End where she met then-owner Jack Allen & the previous owner's son Jason for the first time. The townsfolk were.mesmerized by the seemingly mysterious woman and rumors started to abound. Near the climax, Vanessa revealed to Connie and Eugene that came to Odyssey to protect her mother from Regis. Towards the end of the saga, she, her uncle Edwin, and a few townsfolk helped to set up a trap for her father to save Odyssey.

Novacom Saga: She was a big player in taking down Novacom, using her skills writing letters to raise awareness on Novacom's shady actions. This is where her rivalry with Monica Stone began as Vanessa feelings for Jason turn romantic. After Novacom, she would be involved in more stories.

Green Ring Conspiracy: Following Jason's supposed "death" she briefly left Odyssey in mourning. Her uncle and mother managed to convince her to come back to Odyssey. She was unaware of Jason's secret of being alive and working as the Stiletto, and had several encounters with the Stiletto where the mysterious man left her roses and notes of endearment. The two would later reunite after Jason retuned to town, but Vanessa was angry with him for keeping secrets from her. After a long time (and counsel from Whit) she forgave him, and the two reconciled with the promise of being more open with each other.

Courtship Of Jason & Vanessa: An original storyline where the romance between her and Jason comes full circle, leading to their engagement! If only they could overcome personal inhibitions, a hateful doberman, past rivals and a threat from Jason's spy work!

Junior's Birth & Beyond: A couple of years into their marriage Vanessa became pregnant. She was anxious over multiple scenarios, her growing appetite and mood swings. After her son was born she developed symptoms of postpartum depression and sought medications and therapy. Slowly but surely, her mental health improved, & her anxieties faded away. As of now she has gotten involved with the current Rydell Saga.

Trivia

Vanessa won several awards for her artwork and has them on display everywhere in Odyssey

She is one of my most complex characters, but also one starting to really grow on me mostly out of nostalgia for the series

- Characters that inspired Vanessa's creation are Megara (Disney Hercules), Rei/Sailor Mars (Sailor Moon), Esther (biblical stories), Tzipporah (biblical stories esp. Dreamworks The King of Egypt), Talia Al Ghul, and Elisa Maza (Gargoyles). Other inspos include Maria Von Trapp and Marian Ravenwood.

- Vanessa was made to have a unique female character to contrast Connie and Katrina. Also because I have a soft spot for the Forbidden Love trope (if done right).

- She is the only main character OC of mine that is explicitly religious. She was Catholic and while she converted to Protestant, she still holds on to Catholic values. She is also the only main OC to be a parent as of current.

- Vanessa still visits her old nunnery when she and Jason goes to New England.

- She has bouts of postpartum depression, and takes medication to regulate.

- Her favorite things are the color blue, making her own pigments, and coffee flavored ice cream

Quotes

"Blackgaard already made our lives miserable uncle Edwin! If you leave now you're only giving him more power! You helped mama and I so many times, so it's my turn to return the favor!"

"Connie I'm a nun not a miracle worker."

"If my mother superior saw what I'm doing right now I would've had an early meeting with the Lord!"

"No more secrets. From now on it's just truth and nothing but the truth. Except for my age, don't ask me how old I am."

"Sheesh with all these buttons I'm surprised we didn't destroy Odyssey yet!"

"Jason I know you're worried about the baby but did you have to baby proof the doghouse too?"

"My little Angel! Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl!"

"I can't believe I can still wear this after all these years!?"

"Jason Whittaker you have got to be the most stubborn, reckless, foolhardy man I have ever met, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You call it junk I call it avant garde."

"I'm not responsible for my father's sins but I am responsible for mine. But my mother and uncle are in trouble. If not for me then please, do it for them!"

"She doesn't hate you Jason, she hates everyone equally."

"I guess God had a plan in store for me after all. I would've never met such wonderful people."

"Are you going to keep talking or should I start the kissing?"

Pictures

I haven't drawn any references for her yet, so that's going to be on a separate post

[ourcorny]

charactersssss (a constant wip)

annie morris … twenty-five. currently haunted by her paintings and doodles. how embarrassing! waitress, artist, medicated for an illness she doesn’t has. is actually just from a bloodline of cursed female creative types. more info can be found @tghluck. (fc: mary elizabeth winstead)

edward ainsley … sixteen years old, is actually fifty-seven, vegan vampire. utterly disliked by his vampiric peers due to his being turned into a vampire in his youth, rendered sixteen years old for life. has a tendency towards alcoholism in order to silence his cravings for blood since he deems vampirism altogether unethical. more info found @pastytwat (fc: craig roberts)

robbie moore … fifty. always one of those too big for his own boots kinda guys – one of the ‘i’m jumping ship as soon as hit eighteen’ types. that’s what he did, and that’s when he absolutely fucked it. ran his mouth too loud for too long and ruined any chances he had anywhere he went. robbie is a writer but his unwillingness to compromise with his work leaves him unable to find any real place in the industry. an absolute self publishing expert. to pay the bills he’s an english teacher but there’s no real passion for it. he came back to his hometown after struggling his way around the country and settled down in a marriage with his high school sweetheart that turned sour quickly. the pair never had children and were heading to a painful divorce when his wife passed away suddenly. years down the line and he’s still trying to wrap his head around it. jesus fuck this guy. (fc: marc maron)

tara shaw … thirty-four. owner of SHAWSPB, an independent publishing company ran (run? past tense…? it’s confusing) by one tara shaw, someone who needs to work on her social skills. as it seems, you can actually only reject so many people so many times before it bites you in the ass. more specifically (and more accurately), you can only reject so many people so meanly after you fire the companies’ reader because they’ve let one too many trashy reads out of the slush pile and you have to start wading through the heaving thing yourself. opening manuscripts seemed well and good and safe enough because all you’d be facing is words that were crappy in a worst case scenario, until late one night, you stumble upon something that a sour faced rejectee (yes, one that landed themselves with a personalised handwritten and very specific rejection from the woman herself) gets their pages in the pile. tara opens it and finds that it’s no story at all. it’s a string of nonsense – words that don’t exist, script she’s not sure she’s ever seen before, but transfixed on the page, tara shaw reads the thing front to back and the second she puts the papers down is hurtled into the space time continuum, left to float around in there til something grounds her back into the real world, when or wherever that is. it’s an act of karma, or something, and whenever she lands she pukes her guts out because that’s what that kind of thing does to the human body apparently. (fc: natasha lyonne)

genevieve walsh … seventeen. was made fun of in year six for choosing to go to an all girl’s catholic secondary school, her classmates saying that she would end up a lesbian. she did, though it was unrelated to her formal teaching. very unrelated. she has too much going on and is too moody for her own good. extra info can be found @genegrieve. 

morrigan kenny … age unknown. bringer of the apocalypse. wanders earth with her way too long hair (it collects twigs and mud) looking for someone to spend the rest of the end with.

alex … thirty-odd (undisclosed actual age) years old. she is yet to learn to do her taxes, and is for all intents and purposes: a con-woman. arguably not an ethical profession, charging the old and the gullible for exorcisms and that of a supernatural variety while having no knowledge of the subject. but a girl’s gotta make a living — volunteering yourself for stand up gigs at the same place night in night out with little to no compensation doesn’t provide much. she’s a kind person, if you ignore the conning, and is decent to talk to. will give away any information. whoops. (fc: jenny slate)

lou webster … seventeen. modern prophet. refuses touch with good reason (skin on skin means she see the other person’s skin melting off, right to the bone). regularly sees the end of the world and it gives her stomach aches. (fc: natalia dyer)

liv o'dell … twenty-nine. screaming messy would probably win the lottery (the luck of her) if she ever tried it, multiple time accidental murderer. makes no sense. is rude. is annoying. has a surprisingly sweet daughter (kitty). more info @heavyroads 

betty cloverfield … a twenty one year old motormouth who can’t hold down a single thing she’s meant to. she happens to have recently induced some type of magenta sensitive dissonance in her sensory processing that she can’t shake. it’s speculated by many that she’s taken one too many poppers and it’s taken its toll. (fc: kat dennings)

aiden ryder … seventeen years old. the angstiest, quietest idiot with four fully charged portable chargers to hand at any moment you will ever know. heavily associated with @optimistsclub​ (fc: jack kilmer)

mert james ... 21. a children’s author, the writer and illustrator of the BEWARE GIANT CREATRUES series. he has many reasons to not want to leave his house and most surround the obvious images conjured in the phrase hatemyself1999 — hate myself (explanatory) and 1999 (dexter ‘mert’ james’ birth year. also self explanatory once you know this fact). all that said, he does in fact leave his house. teaches drums to kids. none of them practise and it makes him insane. in a running circuit of bands where none of the members are committed. that, or he’s misjudging their commitment and giving them nothing when they do in fact care and then he is the dick. music snob, deadpan snarker, karma houdini, middle child syndrome, world of cardboard, can’t get away with nuthin, i coulda been a contender!

lazyguts / victoria ... suicide/eating disorder mention. i’m writing her through ages 17-19 and here’s the brief overview/context: lazyguts lost all of her friends the year before she went off to university as a result of her total withdrawal [causes being a) her brother attempting to kill himself (he survived but it’s very confusing to grieve a hypothetical especially when you’re not supposed to talk about it) and then b) her already struggling with food issues getting worse worse worse. these two things alone are not the reasons as no one else explicitly knows about them, but the adverse effects of these things combined make her difficult to be around/hard to maintain a friendship with her. all very tragic, but still happens. uno].going to a uni where she doesn’t know anyone seems like the best move. she does. she makes friends with a girl called olivia and they become mad close very quickly. this lasts maybe two months until lazyguts starts locking herself away in uni room and doesn’t see much of anyone at all. she has to drop out on mental health reasons just before the end of her first year. she moves back home and lives miserably and very solitary. she and olivia have long lost touch by this point. a few months later she sees an in memoriam post up on olivia’s social media from some of olivia’s friends saying how tragic the loss is, etc/ olivia had killed herself. the post had said something about a project for the close friends of olivia and she tentatively sends a message despite having never really known the girl. anyway, after quite a few ‘exaggerations’ and then a few straight up lies, she ends up super into the friend group of olivia’s based on the lie of being a long-time friend of hers. she’s not sure why the lie comes out nor why she keeps it going. it’s something to cling onto so she does. best way to put it is she’s very dear evan hansen about it, lying lying lying lllyyyinng. eventually she’s caught out but we’re not there yet (fc: odessa a’zion)

dale knox ... 30ish. painter/decorator. info literally not ever written out before. he’s lovely and in a constant state of stress! affiliated with @fullyfungi (fc: aidan turner)

lenny gata ... 26. lonely funeral poet. followed by a select few of the unknown dead #irl after an accidental latin spell read out at a graveside (not her fault, literally not her fault - she read this out in good faith). caught ignoring them/walking them to their homes depending on the day. (fc: aubrey plaza)

millie matthews ... 17. half part antichrist. the other half is her twin sister (#MISSING). currently, unfortunately, sadly, disappointgly, worryingly, being tracked down.

more tbaaaaaaaa thank you thank you

[shangyangjunzhu]

Empress of the Ming/ Ming Dynasty

I closely followed this drama since it began and all I can say is that it is one of the best shows I have ever watched. Most people have found the amount of politics and the lack of harem intrigue and romance rather boring yet I think it does perfect justice to the protagonist and the struggle of the era. 

I have always wanted to see a strong female character beyond the harem intrigue in historical fiction and this drama is perfection. I must admit I was a little sad that I didn’t get to see too much of the lead characters together but hey... a drama can not be too perfect (except for Minglan, that is what you call PERFECTION). The drama basically follows the journey of Ruowei, a daughter of an Imperial physician whose family is purged as the Yongle Emperor comes to the throne. You get to see her as a rebel, an imperial consort, an Empress and then regent. Though she is smart and talented, she values relationships immensely which the people around her often forget to see. She is a character you can relate to most of the time and someone you will constantly root for.

Let’s get to the main cast of the show.

Sun Ruowei (Empress Xiaogongzhang)

Daughter of a royal doctor, she spent her early childhood being loved by her parents and loved her younger sister dearly. However, her mother and father are killed and she is separated from her parents. She is adopted by Sun Zhong, and becomes a part of a cult who are mostly orphans from the purging. She is talented however she is manipulated by the cult to take revenge by entering the palace. She has deep feelings for Xu Bin, another member of the cult, who distances himself from her knowing how dangerous the world is. During some of her escapades, she meets the Imperial Grandson Zhu Zhanji, who eventually falls in love with her. After her adoptive father passes away, she becomes Zhanji’s concubine to honor her father’s last wish and in an attempt to legitimize the runaway orphans. When she enters the palace, she is reunited with her long-lost younger sister who becomes Zhanji’s wife. During her time in the mansion of the Crown Prince, she becomes familiar with military and court affairs winning the admiration of influential members of the court. When her underage son ascends to the throne, she becomes co-regent and rules over the land. Ruowei, despite her keen intelligence, values relationships a lot. Her younger sister, the Empress, often gets herself into trouble which Ruowei covers up for and attempts to protect her. Even the Crown Prince, Zhanji’s father, receives her care even though she is aware that his family killed hers. People see her as a rather cold and strict woman yet her love for her son, sister, and husband is immense and you get to see the inner struggle in her. I love Ruowei yet sometimes I wish she is less kind and forgiving towards people who don’t deserve it. Rating: 9/10

Zhu Zhanji (Xuande Emperor)

Imperial Grandson; the eldest child of the Crown Prince (Hongxi Emperor) and Crown Princess. He is a mix of his father and grandfather; he had his grandfather’s ambition, intelligence, and pride but also has his father’s, good heart. His encounters with Ruowei cause him to fall in love with her despite his knowledge of her love for Xu Bin. However, he is forced to marry Hu Shanxiang, a woman recommended by his uncle, and takes in Ruowei as a concubine. Nevertheless, it is clear that Shanxiang is nothing but a burden for him and the only woman in his heart is Ruowei. When he joins his grandfather on an expedition against the Oirat, he finds out his father’s health is going downhill and that his grandfather plans on replacing his father. To save his family, he conceals his grandfather’s plans and helps his father ascend to the throne. However, as the Hongxi Emperor dies and his uncles rebel, Zhanji is forced to the battlefield as soon as he ascends to the throne. After the birth of his children, he finds out Shanxiang helped his uncles escape the city and was his spy, his mental health goes downhill and dies. A passionate man yet he is a faithful lover for the most part. Rating: 7/10 

Hu Shanxiang (Empress Gongrangzhang)

The younger daughter of a royal doctor, she lost her parents at a very young age and is saved by the Crown prince and the Imperial grandson. She is raised by a palace official Hu Shangxi who adopts her as her niece. Under her tutelage, Shanxiang becomes aware of all of the inner machinations of the palace and she herself wishes to gain power. Since her childhood, she has wished to pay back the favor of saving her life and therefore makes an attempt to become Zhanji’s wife. To do so, she allies herself with Prince Han, the uncle of Zhanji, and marries Zhanji as his legitimate wife. Though initially she is overjoyed to reunite with her sister Ruowei, she soon realizes that she is the standing block between her and Zhanji which brings upon a certain distance. She is highly skeptical of everyone around her which causes her to distrust the only person who helps her out in the palace. Her identity is revealed and Zhanji demotes her to a nun. She eventually earns the position of Dowager Imperial Consort when her son ascends to the throne (historically inaccurate). Yet, she isn’t satisfied as she sees Ruowei as a constant reminder of Zhanji’s treatment towards her and wishes to become Empress Dowager and that her son remains on the throne. Her greed pushes her daughter-in-law and grandson to die, resulting in the relationship with her son to deteriorate. Rating: 2/10

Zhu Qizhen (Emperor Yingzong)

Son of Ruowei and Zhanji. A kid born with developmental issues is carefully nurtured by his mom to return to normal. However, his surroundings do not help with his upbringing and his grandmother’s pampering causes him to become a rather insolent and spoiled child. He always thinks that his mother is out for his power and sees her as his biggest obstacle. In an attempt to prove himself a capable leader, he goes out to war and is taken as a hostage by the Oirat Mongols. It is here that he begins to understand the hardships of life and the hard work his mom has put in. He also falls in love with the sister of the Khan and has a kid with her while being held in hostage. When he is finally allowed to return as a retired Emperor, his half-brother makes his life miserable and even kills his wife. This brings upon a paradigm change in him which leads to him eventually taking back the throne and finally ruling on his own. However, his relationship with his mom is irreparable and he is unable to come to terms with it. Rating: 4/10

Zhu Qiyu (Jingtai Emperor)

Son of Shanxiang and Zhanji. He is raised to be skeptical of everyone and to be patient enough to grab power by his mother. When he is initially raised to the throne, he listens to Ruwei’s counsel and does remarkably well. However his mother’s machinations and greed lead to him developing a desire to sit on the throne forever. When his wife and son die, he loses his mind and blames it on Ruowei and Qizhen and tries to make their lives miserable. Qizhen eventually takes over the throne and Qiyu is killed by him. Rating: 1/10

Xu Bin

Another orphan who grew up with Ruowei, wishing to bring justice to all of the orphans hiding for their life. He too is in love with Ruowei however he persuades her to marry Zhanji for the greater good, knowing that she has the power to bring upon a change in their lives. Zhanji knows about their love and he is extremely jealous of him (their conversations are so funny!) however he gives Xu Bin a chance to go on a sea voyage thus separating both of them. Later on, when Ruowei becomes Empress Dowager, Xu Bin returns and helps her reunite with her son. At the very end when she wishes to escape it all, he renews his offer to take her all around the world just like he did when they were younger. Sigh, I would have liked him a lot more if I could bring myself to dislike Zhanji. Rating: 7/10

Overall Rating:

There is keen detail paid to every historical fact in the drama with the exception of some harem details. You get to learn a lot about the Yongle period and especially see what Ming Dynasty looked like. You also get to see an epic romance where you are quite literally dying to see them together however you don’t get to see it too often, sigh! And most importantly you get to see a competent woman being praised for being competent while getting flake for obstructing the power of the men. It’s not only Ruowei but also her mother-in-law Empress Dowager Zhang who was historically the main regent during the time Qizhen was still a kid, which the drama does justice to. I admit there isn’t enough of the harem drama or romance and most of the drama is political issues and Ruowei’s rule. I will promise you though that you will see more romance here than you will in Nirvana in Fire which is worth considering. There aren’t enough reviews about this show online, however, it is a gem and it is definitely worth your time if you don’t mind learning a little bit of history.

Rating: 8/10

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

OC Profile

Lydia Venkman (The Real Ghostbusters.)

Bio

Name: Lydia Molly (O’Connor) Venkman 

Age: 22 when Peter was born and passed away at 32. 

Ethnicity: Caucasian with her both sides of her family having descended from Irish Immigrants back in the 1840s. 

Species: Human.

Height: 5'5 

Weight: 120 pounds. 

Hair color: Dark brown. 

Hair style: Used to be very long, almost to her waist until she cut it short into a flipped bob during the 1960s. She grew it back out before she passed.

Eye color: Green. 

Birthday: September 23rd, 1936. 

Gender: Female.

Sexual Orientation: Straight.

Powers (if any): No. 

Distinguishing features (if any): Lower lip was fuller than top and had an oval shaped face. Jim said she looked like the actress Natalie Wood. 

Blood Type: A- 

Clothing

Day to day outfit: Simple dresses with flared skirts and a sash. Think 1950s-early 1960s style. Wore simple flats with them. On weekends, she wore simple trousers and tucked in blouses. 

Pajamas/What they wear to bed: Plain white nightgowns.

Formal Clothes: Most formal that Lydia owned was her wedding dress: a lacy A-line gown with matching jacket.

Work/School uniform: Being a teacher, just simple nice dresses and pumps.  

Other (glasses, jewelry, etc): Liked wearing ribbons for headbands. Single solitaire wedding ring. A Claddagh ring which was the only family keepsake she took when she married Jim. He gave her necklaces and bracelets, but Lydia sold them to make ends meet. 

Health

Physical Illnesses: Weakened Immune System where she usually gets sick easily and for long. Suffers from a severe case of pneumonia.

Mental Illnesses or disorders: Depression.

Medications?: Antidepressant and usual medicines when she became sick, ex. cough syrup, Tylenol etc.   

Addictions (Drugs, alcohol?): No. With her weakened immune system she’s careful about addictions.  

General Health: Its decent enough, but in her early 30s she becomes more sick from living in bad conditions, her weakened immune system  and her lungs not being strong enough. Body shape is rectangular: 32-26-34 and around size 8.   

Life/Preferences:

Likes: Teaching, fantasy books, tea, cooking, and spending time with her son.

Dislikes: Dishonesty, depression, getting sick and Jim’s bad ideas. 

Career: Elementary teacher.

Hobbies/Talents: Reading was her main hobby. Used to ride horses back in Montana, but eventually grew a new hobby of collecting teacups as she moved around. Talented in piano.  

Habits (good or bad): Chewed bottom lip when stressed and twirled hair when writing.

Family: Parents were Joseph and Naomi O’Connor. Lydia had 8 brothers. She was closest to older four: Phillip, Benjamin, Andrew and Daniel. All a year apart. Four younger brothers, are sets of twins: Jacob and Jeremiah came along when she was 3. Then Simon and Silas arrived when she was 4. Had an aunt named Molly that passed shortly before her birth and that's how she got her middle name.

Friends: Not many. Had some nice neighbors at times. She considered her big brothers as her closest friends.

Romantic/Love Interest(s): Mainly Jim Venkman, but its caused her problems.

Pets: Her childhood cat named Copper: He was a European Shorthair breed with deep brown fur. Her family had horses, but her favorite was Valor: An American Quarter Horse with a blue roan coat.

Social Status: Lower class.

Favorite Food: Colcannon Irish potatoes. 

Favorite Color: Forest green. 

Favorite genre of music: Folk music.

Favorite movie genre: She didn’t see too many movies having only theaters at the time. Cinderella, Lady and the Tramp, An American in Paris and 20,000 Leagues under the Sea were her favorite movies in theaters. 

Favorite Animal: Elk. She loved seeing them in Montana. Interestingly, elk are considered as a symbol of protection.

Degree of Education: High school graduate and earned a teacher’s certificate. 

What language(s) can they speak?: English and a decent amount of Irish. 

Can they cook?: Absolutely. 

Personality

Positive Traits: Warm, devoted, thoughtful, altruistic and creative. 

Negative Traits: Self-critical, self-conscious and sometimes closed off from others.

Archetype: The Mother Figure like Perdita in 101 Dalmatians or Mrs. Brisby from The Secret of Nimh.

Way they interact with others: Very reserved when first meeting. It takes a good while to get to know her.

Way of speaking: Voice inspiration for her is the late actress Elizabeth Hartman. (Yeah, Mrs. Brisby's voice actor because she has a certain blend of vulnerability and strength which I think fits Lydia well.)

Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert. Not sure where she'd fall for MBTI, but my thought is INFP.

Backstory 

 Lydia was born in Williston, North Dakota and was the first daughter for her family. Lydia had a weakened immune system and got sick easily throughout her life. When Lydia was 9 months old, her family moved to Libby, Montana to be near her mother's aging parents. It was intended for the family to move back to Williston, but they all fell in love with Montana and never left. Living on farmland, Lydia spent free time with her brothers: they rode horses, went fishing, climbed trees and camped in the summer. Being outside helped her stay healthy. Lydia went to a small school and only enjoyed storybooks. All other subjects were hard and the teachers were cold hearted which made Lydia feel inferior. As she grew, she visited the library more often and her learning skills improved. Her favorite books were Ivanhoe, The Iliad, The Odyssey and The Hobbit. (She loved The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia when they were first published.) After graduating high school, she earned a teacher's certificate with the goal to help children learn in better ways than she did. However, she also desired to have adventures one day even if she wasn’t sure how it’d go. That started changing when she met Jim Venkman. 

 Jim was a couple years older than Lydia and resided in Montana to hideout from his recent problems. It was love at first sight for him and Lydia grew to love him after several outings. Jim promised Lydia "all her dreams." Her parents, didn't approve Jim because they found him sleazy and doubted it was really love. Her brothers, all younger and older, weren’t sure about Jim and always felt genuine protection for their only sister. Lydia constantly argued with her mother in particular and finally, her parents threatened to disown her. Young, wanting adventure, and thinking she knew best, Lydia left with Jim. She did teach and found creative ways to help her students learn. However, Lydia missed her family and months in the marriage, found herself miserable. Jim was going back and forth with "jobs" and while inadvertent, seemed to take her for granted. Lydia became severely depressed: she felt trapped, dissatisfied and worst of all, lonely. Not introverted/like the quiet, solitude loneliness. It was an abandoned loneliness. That ended after a doctor's appointment where she discovered she was expecting. She gave birth in a quick labor and was with happy tears to have her son. Since Jim wasn't there and difficult to contact, Lydia spent five days with just her baby. Instead of going with Jim's desires to name a son James Jr., she chose Peter. Despite the sudden moving back and forth, financial issues, working overtime to make ends meet and frustration with her husband, Lydia loved Peter more than anything. She did all she could to give him a good childhood. That all came to a crushing end, when she became terribly sick with pneumonia and passed away. She was 32 and Peter was only 10.

Life Goals

Lydia desired to have adventures in her life even if she was fragile. She wanted to believe the best in people and planned to teach for her career. When she became a mother, Lydia's goals all went to her son and that became the adventure of her life; one she wouldn’t change despite the hardships. When Lydia was told her pneumonia was getting worse and survival was decreasing, she imagined what would happen for Peter: Would he go to college? What would be his career? Would he find love? Have his own kids? For her it was unknown, but in all, she hoped he would be surrounded with stable, caring, enjoyable friendships/family members. She'd been happy to know that did come true.

[murkserious]

They put a few coins in your hands to drop a baby in you’ – 265 stories of Haitian children abandoned by UN fathers

Marie* was 14 years old and enrolled in a Christian school when she met and became involved with Miguel, a Brazilian soldier working in Haiti as a UN peacekeeper. When she told him that she was pregnant with his baby, Miguel said he would help her with the child. But instead, he returned to Brazil. Marie wrote to him on Facebook but he never responded.

After learning that she was pregnant, Marie’s father forced her to leave the family home and she went to live with her sister. Her child is now four and Marie has yet to receive any support from the Brazilian military, an NGO, the UN or the Haitian state. Marie provides what she can for her son but she cannot afford to send him to school. She works for an hourly wage of 25 gourde (around 26 US cents or 20 UK pence) so that she and her son can eat. But she needs help with housing and paying for school fees.

Sadly, Marie’s experience is far from unique. In the summer of 2017, our research team interviewed approximately 2,500 Haitians about the experiences of local women and girls living in communities that host peace support operations. Of those, 265 told stories that featured children fathered by UN personnel. That 10% of those interviewed mentioned such children highlights just how common such stories really are.

The narratives reveal how girls as young as 11 were sexually abused and impregnated by peacekeepers and then, as one man put it, “left in misery” to raise their children alone, often because the fathers are repatriated once the pregnancy becomes known. Mothers such as Marie are then left to raise the children in settings of extreme poverty and disadvantage, with most receiving no assistance.

With regard to public health, it is undisputed, and now officially recognised by the UN, that peacekeepers also inadvertently introduced cholera to Haiti. More than 800,000 Haitians are known to have sought medical attention for cholera and at least 10,000 died from the disease.

Various media organisations have reported that minors were offered food and small amounts of cash to have sex with UN personnel, and MINUSTAH was linked to a sex ring that operated in Haiti with seeming impunity: allegedly, at least 134 Sri Lankan peacekeepers exploited nine children in a sex ring from 2004 to 2007. As a result of this story, reported by the Associated Press in 2017, MINUSTAH became a classic example of lack of appropriate response to allegations of sexual abuse. In the wake of this report, 114 peacekeepers were returned to Sri Lanka, but none were ever prosecuted or charged after repatriation.

that children born of war are often raised in single-parent families in precarious economic post-conflict settings. The association with the (absent) foreign father, along with birth out of wedlock, often result in stigma and discrimination for the children.

Yet little is known about the impact of being a mixed-race child fathered by peacekeepers. Even less is known about the experiences of the so-called “Petit MINUSTAH”, or Haitian-born children of foreign UN peacekeepers. This is one of the reasons we set out to bring to light the stories of those affected by the UN mission.

All day, I heard women who are complaining about the sexual violence that MINUSTAH did to them. And they had given them AIDS through sexual violence. There are also some of them who are pregnant.

There were not only stories of women and girls being sexually assaulted by MINUSTAH but also of men and boys being similarly abused. But in our research, sexual assault was in the minority of reported sexual encounters. Instead, our data highlighted a much more pervasive problem, albeit one that has been reported less in the media – transactional sex with UN personnel.

One married man from Cité Soleil described a common pattern in which women received small amounts of money in exchange for sex: “They come, they sleep with the women, they take their pleasures with them, they leave children in their hands, give them 500 gourdes.”

In other cases of transactional sex, women and girls received food in exchange for having sex with members of MINUSTAH, highlighting the extreme poverty that contributes to these sexual encounters. One male community member in Port Salut reported: “They had sex with the girls not even for money, it’s just for food, for one meal.”

Evolving relationships

Another narrative that has received far less attention in previous reports is how consensual sexual relations between members of MINUSTAH and local women evolve. In some instances, these were casual dating relationships that resulted in a pregnancy, as was the case in this story, shared by a man in Port Salut:

I had a sister who was dating a MINUSTAH soldier. My whole family knew about it, my mother as well as other people. She became pregnant … Ever since, my sister’s life is a mess.

We found that intimate relations with fair-skinned peacekeepers and having fair-skinned children were sometimes perceived as desirable. A woman in Leogane described “rumours” about girls having relationships with MINUSTAH and having their children because they “wanted these children to be beautiful”.

Regardless of whether the relationship was consensual or transactional in nature, particular patterns were noted in how and where the interactions took place. For instance, meeting on the beach or in a hotel was common, as in this story shared by a woman in Cité Soleil, about a friend of hers: “He used to go to the beach with her, now the white man paid for a hotel for her, the white man goes to the hotel with her, he comes to have sex with her.”

Also of great concern is that many of the mothers giving birth to and raising children fathered by UN peacekeepers were themselves adolescents and not old enough to give consent for sex. One woman in Cité Soleil told us:

I see a series of females 12 and 13 years old here. MINUSTAH impregnated and left them in misery with babies in their hands. The person has already had to manage a stressful, miserable life.

Abandonment

After learning of a resultant pregnancy, most shared stories indicated that the MINUSTAH personnel were repatriated by the UN. One woman in Port-Salut told us:

One of my sisters gave birth to a child of the MINUSTAH. My sister had a baby with him because she met him, fell in love with him, he took care of her, but you know, they were sent away. That is why he stopped sending her things.

A male participant in Hinche described a similar experience for a girl he knew, saying: “She was pregnant from a soldier of the MINUSTAH … [He] was moved from his station and left his post and was never seen again.”

After the departure of the peacekeeper fathers, most young women were left alone trying to raise the children in extreme poverty. Some described being fortunate enough to receive support from their families, although certainly not all.

The soldiers destroy these young girls’ futures by getting them pregnant with a couple of babies and abandoning them. Basically, these actions of the soldiers can have a negative impact on the society and on the country in general because these young girls could have been lawyers, doctors or anything that would have helped Haiti tomorrow … Now some of them are walking in the street, or in the flea market and other places with a basket over their head selling oranges, peppers, and other goods in order to raise children they have with the MINUSTAH soldiers.

In a few extreme cases, community members described women and girls who were left with little option other than to engage in further sex with peacekeepers in order to provide for the MINUSTAH children they were already raising. A man in Port-au-Prince shared one example:

He left her in misery because when he used to have sex with her it was for little money, now his term reaches its end, he goes and leaves her in misery, and then now she has to redo the same process so she can provide meals to her child, can’t you understand.

There were many requests in the stories we collected for MINUSTAH and the Haitian authorities to help support these children. One man in Port-Salut stated his request very clearly: “I would like to ask the head of MINUSTAH to take responsibility for the children of MINUSTAH members … We are just doing what we can but you cannot raise children like this…”

In many cases, the power differential between foreign peacekeepers and local populations allows foreigners, knowingly or unknowingly, to exploit local women and girls. The prevalence of transactional sex in our data underscores the significance of the structural imbalances – peacekeepers have access to some of the resources that are desired or needed by the local population and so they are in a strong position to exchange those for sex.

While many of the stories cited above were collected in Port Salut and Cité Soleil, similar narratives were shared across all interview sites in Haiti and the phenomena described are not unique to the Haitian context. Our preliminary work in the Democratic Republic of Congo suggests a comparable situation.

[thecalmconcealed]

Detailed Biography

Birth-1930

Jenya Bhatti was born in South India, in the Madras Province in the city of Chennai in 1915. She grew up under British Colonial rule under the Madras Presidency. Her father was an merchant who died when she was still a toddler and her mother was a servant to a wealthy Indian family. Jenya and her younger brother by three years were kept a secret in order to allow her mother to work and often slept outdoors and meandered all day under little supervision.

However, what little scraps her mother could afford, she invested into books and clothing for her children. It was no question that Jenya was a genius and exceptionally bright for her age and her mother hoped to make her as educated to attract a better dowry, making her a potential suitor for one of her employer's distant relatives. Jenya could not attend any sort of formal education beyond seven years old but was naturally attracted to medicine women and healers, as well as the occasional snake-oil salesman. The reason for her predilection to health science would be because of her sickly younger brother who had no access to real medical care. On top of caring for her weak sibling, Jenya's community was often ravaged with the pestilences following unsanitary conditions and poverty; cholera, typhoid, malnutrition, unclean water, among others.

Jenya was largely ashamed of her lowly position and resented that she did not have access to the education she desired, even though she taught herself English and was well known as a miracle worker, marriage remained her best prospect as a female peasant. However, despite Jenya's extensive research and collection of remedies, her mother and brother both succumbed to cholera in 1930. Jenya's germophobia was present since she was a young child, but it was amplified after her family's death. Left with no connections, Jenya was unofficially taken in by the local midwife (the best one in her town) and started working with her, priestesses, as well as any charity she could offer her skills. She would perform janitorial and domestic services like her mother to make what little money to survive.

Jenya was obsessed with the works of Semmelweis, Louis Pasteur, among other European doctors, and applied their principles of sanitation to their clients. Through this she gained a reputation as the village doctor, since she cut down post-partum and infant mortality by almost eighty percent. However, seeing so many women die from childbirth despite her improvements gave Jenya a pregnancy phobia and made her highly adverse to sex, marriage, and any possibility of conceiving children.

WW2 and 1939

Jenya got the opportunity of a lifetime when the war began. As one of the few English speaking midwives and having a reputation as pseudo-scientist she eagerly accepted a chance to join the Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corps, one of the few places where her nationality nor gender impeded her advancement.

However, Jenya often got in trouble for overstepping boundaries and using unauthorized equipment for her pet projects. She was not popular among her team and was almost kicked out several times because she would challenge doctors, her matron, and other nurses on what was the best diagnosis and treatment, and felt the current science was limited. However, her patients had among one of the lowest mortality rates despite her team being underfunded and in miserable conditions, so she was not fired. Whenever not on the battlefield, she would break into offices to devour the latest publications, findings, and data. Jenya started unethically experimenting on her patients and herself, to develop vaccines, microbial resistance, and efficient nutrition, but was never caught because she would time any deaths with other complications. She wasn't against digging up whatever corpses she could find and taking any samples. Jenya's life changed in 1941, when she treated David Oh from the Layforce in Egypt.

1941 - The Ultimate Promotion

The person who came to be known as Major Zero suffered a concussion and gash where a cable strap had come loose and nicked him in the head during an Egyptian convoy operation. David Oh would always insist that he earned the scar in some daring battle. Jenya knew that David was no ordinary soldier and would often keep him company while he was recovering in the field hospital in Egypt.

She felt he was a safe person to confide in her ambitions and would go on about all her findings. David knew that her talents and vision would be wasted in a field hospital and provided her with the connections to become an official researcher under the agreement that her work would never be released, published, or used publicly, and that she would never have any legal ownership. Calm was more than happy to accept becoming an anonymous scientist than be relegated to a service worker and she followed through on her promise creating revolutionary vector techniques for cellular manipulation.

Now “Calm” also became deathly loyal to Zero and idolized him, worshiped his every step, and did whatever she could to grow close and emulate him, often adopting his mannerisms. She has an obsession that encompasses an intellectual, emotional, and romantic attraction to him and will do anything he ever commanded without question, effectively becoming his shadow. It is through Zero that Jenya's research found real application in the brainchild that was The Cobras, and her work became the photosynthetic implants of The End and parasitic vectors that imbued The Pain to attract and control hornets. She was unofficially codenamed "The Calm," by Zero for this reason (as an inside joke), and would come into contact with the Unit on occasion, if more hands-on analysis was required.

Another reason David Oh was eager to send Jenya on missions across the world was to get her as far away from him as possible. It is not that he didn't like her, it was the opposite. As Major Zero said, work and personal life are strictly separated, and it was overtly obvious the feelings Jenya possessed towards him, despite her best efforts to hide them and remain professional. To avoid an imbalanced power dynamic, David would often correspond with Jenya telegraphically, through letters, or a third party.

Onwards

Here is where Jenya's life is not as set in stone. She remains faithful to David, so she would have some hand in the Virtuous Mission and support, although it would be behind the scenes. However, she shared in David's despair at the annihilation and forced pseudo betrayal of the Cobras, and often felt deep guilt because they were forced to self-destruct to hide her science. [How involved with the Cobras she was could be left open to the rps].

[werevulvi]

I hate my chest... situation. I know I fucked up my ribs real bad from my 5 years of binding (and I used sports bras additionally under the binder, literally just to have a barrier with softer fabric against my boobs, I didn't think anything of it) but it was alright, for the most part, for the next 4 years after my top surgery when I didn't bind anymore. I'd only occasionally get random chest pains and random moments of not being able to take deep breaths, but it was just a few times per year and didn't bother me much. But now since detransitioning, I've been wearing bras again. And god damn... for these past 11 months that I've been doing so, my chest situation has increasingly worsened by the day.

I know I've been mentally resisting trying to get over my top surgery regret cause I just really, really badly wish I had boobs again. What kind of cruel fate is this?! Hating my boobs from the start of puberty, then trying everything I could to be fine with them, then sexually assaulted by my fucking boyfriend so to the point I wanted to rip them off my chest and swore to never let anyone touch them again... and kept that promise. Then bound them for 5 years as I despised them, then I finally got top surgery that I had been waiting for and anticipating... only to regret it at 9 days post-op when I first saw it. Then stuffing that regret away for 4 years until I detransitioned last year, when I released those feelings.

I cried my fucking heart out for months in a grief so heavy I've never felt before. And now realising I can't wear my breast forms most of the time. I need to wear them less and less...

Especially sports bras and underwire bras are the worst. But I tried buying an extra soft mastectomy bra that's said to even be fine to sleep in but even that one is hurting really bad. Getting implants might not put too much strain on my chest in and of themselves, but I really wanna get back to karate again. And I'd have to wear a sports bra for that if I'd have boobs again, but I can't if it restricts my breathing like this. So this is where I'm at now, if I'm gonna have to choose between boobs and karate... I can't let my dysphoria kill my dreams. Not any more.

Now this sure is a tight fucking spot to be in with no damn wiggle room in either direction. I have to try to overcome my chest dysphoria and top surgery regret, cause there's just no way around it. I can't ignore my physical health for the sake of my mental health anymore. Cause if I do, it'll just backfire on me eventually. I can exercise just fine without anything constricting my chest, like just wearing regular loose clothing, but that means I can't have boobs then. Why... why should I have to choose between boobs and my dreams? Don't even get me started on how "unfair" it is, I don't care. It's cruel, that's what it is. It's simply cruel. I begged to all the damn gods and godesses any which where to please not make me choose between those two. I guess they didn't care. I wish I hadn't dug up that regret last summer. I wish I hadn't let myself grieve. Cause at least it was bearable when I could pretend that I was fine with my chest being flat, during those 4 years between 2014 and 2018. Oh, what a waste. All of it.

This will be hard to get through, as if it wasn't already. Cause I never once liked it being flat, I'll surely struggle to find ways to live with it. But I do think it's possible. Oh come on, I've gotten this far, I believe pretty much anything is possible at this point. But I also believe I'll need to go through a living hell to get through it. And knowing I'll actually willingly open that door to yet another hell and force my way through it... you don't fuck with that kind of willpower. So I know I can do it, it's not that. I just... really hate this situation. I've already been wearing my boobs less often, and even been outside without them twice this past week. I know I can do it again. And again. Although I don't wanna face my mom pressuring me about my "gender identity crisis" if/when she sees me dressed up but without boobs (likely for driving me somewhere). None of of her damn business! Out of all the people picking at my looks, strangers included, her comments are the worst. So what if she doesn't think it's socially acceptable or whatever for women to be hairy, have deep voices or flat chests, so fucking what?! She gave birth to me and changed my diapers as a baby, she if anyone knows I'm female. I wanna tell her to just fuck off about my looks, body and style, but instead I just keep resorting to trying to explain and only failing better each time. How can a gnc woman keep ragging on her gnc daughter for not being gnc in the "right" or exact same way? I don't understand!

If she had grown up in my generation she probably would have transitioned too and then ended up asking herself what was the point of it all, like I did. Or at least that's not at all unlikely. So how the hell can she rag on me for not wanting to mutilate my own body even further, but in a feminising direction instead? That's the part I can't understand. Isn't coming to terms with BOTH my female biology AND the changes I made to its exterior the best possible route I could take? But I think she's in denial about how she herself stands out with her own gnc looks, cause me standing out in a crowd really seems to be the torn in her side.

I don't even understand where her views are coming from, if it's closer to radfem or old school conservative views of gender but with a liberal "do as you wish" leaning. Not knowing her perspective on what she even thinks makes me a woman or a man or whatever she even sees me as, makes it kinda hard to explain my perspective on it. But it's possible that her reluctance to accept my way of being gnc could be her thinking I in some sense "became" a man through my transition, and that I won't "qualify" as a woman again in her eyes unless I'll start looking like one again. If so, she can take that stick and just jam it in a little farther. Cause that's bullshit, and I would not be afraid to straight up tell her that. But I do not know if that's what her stick is about.

I know I'll look at those cute feminine tops and dresses in my wardrobes that require boobs to look good cause of how they're sewn, with a sinking feeling in my chest of how can I ever wear this again? I'm a femme by heart, fuck knows no damn clothes fit my broken body anymore! Nothing is designed to fit a flat chest and wide hips. Literally nothing. And I look dumb. My chest doesn't match my curvy ass, and I hate that. It looks so bad. Like I've got a male upper body and a female lower body. But I don't wanna cut up my ass to match my chest, that would be even dumber, and I like my ass. I feel like a table with unevenly long legs whobbling around, but I've come to a point where I've realised I can't just keep cutting its legs so now it just has to be uneven like that. And now I can't even put a book underneath the shortest leg to keep it steady anymore, cause that's the metaphor for my fake boobs. Anyone else feel like a whobbly table which's legs has been cut too many times to irrevokable unevenness, or is that just me? Well, tight tank tops with some cute lace details or pattern fit my upper body quite nicely even with just the flatness underneath, and I can always wear any skirts cause they're really "one shape fits all" and I love that about how easy it is to wear skirts. Tied blouses are neat too (unless I tie too hard), and open tunics. Most cardigans and feminine jackets work as well. Stretchy bolero's will fem up any outfit. Jewellery and makeup will too, of course.

And the bonus: if me not having boobs will somehow make me less likely to be perceived to be a trans woman, I'll fucking cheer halleluja. Cause sometimes I'd just rather be perceived as a regular gnc dude cause at least then people don't tend to think I'm an oversensitive TRA ready to dislodge their heads from their shoulders if they'd accidentally misgender me or say something "offensive." Male is male regardless of how you twist and turn it and how it identifies. To be seen as a fake woman is no fucking better than be seen as a straight up man in a flamboyant style. They're both just as damn incorrect when applied to me, but people do tend to have a better attitude when they think I'm just a straight up man in a dress. So if I have to choose, that's the better of those two options, seriously. But it's a damn difficult decision to put my boobs away for good. It feels like I'm living the twisted nightmare version of my childhood dream. I wanted to be a feminine man so badly. Now this detrans femme lesbian who can't pass as female anymore reality freak show, feels like some kind of twisted nightmarish version of that childhood wish. Oh I always knew that sex dysphoria sucked... but I never could have imagined back then, that it could suck quite this bad. I'll never get away from it, never entirely. Cause no matter what I'll always have to live with the consequences of my transition.

Now this is no joking matter, I know that, but I can't stop laughing at this truly miserable outcome. Cause I know I can't truly grasp it. It's bewildering.

[son-of-the-omega-blog]

#SL #PlayTime 

#TriggerWarning #Abuse #Violence #Torture 

 Written by @Son_OfThe_Omega and @ToTheGrahve

Mentions @OffKeyDeviant @Qhuinn_BDBFM @Dehstruction

*~*~*~*~*

Grahve: Every breath hurt. Granted, that probably had something to do with the knife that’d punctured my lung like a fucking balloon. My blood was a flavor I was tired of tasting, but every rattled breath only pushed more of it up my throat. I wanted to hurl, but the gag in place made me fight the reflex. The bag over my head wasn’t much better.

I could still see the look in his eyes. The sheer, unparalleled delight as he’d buried that blade to the hilt, savoring my shock and horror. My fists clenched in the chains holding them above my head, the soft rattle the only sound other than my labored breathing. Fury licked through me, and only half of it was toward the male who’d trapped me. The other half was all for me.

How could I have been so stupid… I wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact I’d become so emotionally compromised and entangled, or the fact it had led me to make one poor decision after another. Until I was here, in what had to be a Lesser hideout, if the smell was anything to go by, bag or no bag. Yet the male who’d lured me, flirted with me, had definitely ‘not’ been one of the Omega’s minions. No matter how emotionally blind I was, there was no masking that rot.

Which meant…

I closed my eyes beneath the bag and tried not to sag in the chains, my mind turning over the only possible conclusion and feeling my dread curdle into nausea.

Lash.

The son of the Omega. The one who hounded the Brotherhood and sought to destroy them. The one who’d helped corrupt Blaylock. The one who’d kidnapped and tortured an angel.

No wonder he’d looked so pleased with himself as I’d choked and struggled. I’d never seen his face before. Never known his scent. A trainee so oblivious to who he was had wandered into his web. And now here I was. Helpless. And furious.

Lash: [Watching the male hang as each breath cost him valuable energy, I gave myself a pat on the back. Ever since my little encounter with Queen Beth, the Brotherhood has been totally ghost on the streets of Caldwell. And it left me quite bored. When I'd walked into the club tonight, I hardly expected to come out with such a prize. Granted the male wasn't a Brother, but still, a trainee was better than offing civilians all night as a draw.

The look of shock on Grahve’s face was worth the effort as the knife incapacitated him, but it didn’t stop the male from trying to get his own pound of flesh. Even unarmed, the male had made a formidable opponent based on pure spirit alone. The few hits he managed to connect with would have been enough to loosen the teeth of any civilian, but I didn't have time to waste playing the games of posturing young.

The struggle in the alley lasted less than a minute before I had tucked the half-conscious male into a stolen car, courtesy of some halfwit human who’d left the vehicle not only unlocked but with the keys tucked into the visor.

The longer than necessary ride looped around the south of Caldwell, dumping us at a dead end road turned narrow deer path that led deep into the woods. Steel chain link fencing surrounded the new compound wasn't just to keep the wildlife from setting off the motion sensors and cameras; any errant nosy human who happened to get too curious for their own health would have found themselves on the business end of a shovel, six down. Not that it would be hard to disappear a body out here, but time was a commodity I didn't want to extend if I didn't have to.

The few Lessers I had around the place served as my watchdogs, the beyond-pale fuckers that had been inducted many decades ago were the last of my Prime squads, well seasoned and hungry for Brotherhood blood. New recruits were being added weekly, courtesy of the Omega, the last of the more experienced Lessers in charge of their training.

Leaving the knife in the male's side during transport was a game; he wouldn't have been able to dematerialize regardless, but it was fun to watch him squirm and pant for breath each time I reached over and gave the blade a twist. I upped the ante and added the element of darkness via a black hood over his head. One more sense of his compromised. Even more so as I strung him up in chains and lifted him until he was barely balanced on the balls of his feet. I was letting gravity do the rest of the heavy work on Grahve's muscles. The pull would only serve to weaken him further, and unlike the angel, sunlight wasn't going to miraculously bring him back to near full health. No, the male would need a female's blood for that.]

Tell me. How's mine cousin, Qhuinn. Still besotted with the fair Chosen Layla? Or has he turned to finding new bed partners?

[Circling the deadweight with a grim smirk, I reached out and jabbed the male's wounded side with a hard fist.]

Grahve: Holy. Fucking. Hell.

The pain that erupted up my side threatened to send me night night, right before it caused a spasm to tear apart my lungs. I coughed, spluttered, the gag and the hood catching a mouthful of blood. My body struggled to cope as I pulled back against the chains keeping me up, away from where the hit had come from. But with the hood, I was helpless to predict Lash’s next hit. Not that I thought I’d be conscious after a second hit to my ruined lung...

By the time the agony had faded to a dull roaring throb, his question finally registered. I’d never felt my fangs grate against a gag before, the sensation uncomfortable even as a weak growl rumbled in my chest. Which I also regret. Immediately.

I tasted more blood and forced myself to calm down. But the idea that Lash was still gunning for Qhuinn made my blood boil. Regardless of how I felt, of what had happened between him, me, Crhis… all of it, I’d die before I let this miserable prick hurt them. And hey, whaddaya know, if he kept sticking me like a pin cushion and hitting the flesh around it, that death was all but guaranteed in a very short timeline.

I could feel his amusement, his utter delight at my helplessness, and if anything it fueled my rage, my defiance, until I was straightening and clenching my fists in their manacles. My chest hurt like a mofo, but it was all I could do until the gag came out and I could tell him a hearty ‘fuck you’.

Lash: [So, /that/ little query got a reaction from the trainee. Qhuinn must have been tapping more than one ass if this male was so reactive to mere questions. Did this hanging piece of meat know my oversexed cousin had impregnated a Chosen, I wondered; he had to have known. Layla paraded that swollen belly around like the trophy she was. She must have certainly had the young by now. Or dropped into the Fade on her birthing bed. Pacing around the dangling and gagged bit, I had to give him a small props for ‘hanging’ in there.]

Oh, wait. [Leaning in close to the male's ear, my voice was a harsh just-above-whisper.] Let me see if I'm reading this sitch right. Qhuinn gave the fair Chosen more bed time than you, so you turned to bedding another… [Inhaling deep only confirmed the stronger scent of another, a male.] … male.

[Just a guess, even with the scent of the trainee Qhuinn had been making eyes at all over Grahve, it wasn't too much of a stretch because I knew Qhuinn to be a possessive male that liked to take things too far.]

And mine cousin didn't appreciate the turn of your.. [Grabbing the back of the hood and jerking it off the male's head, the cold anger blowing off him in waves, hurt evident in his eyes as he twisted, bloodied and bruised before me.] .. attention to another. So you decided to drink away your broken heart. [Reaching out and cupping the male's face in a firm grip then patting his cheek hard, I slid fingers back to loosen the gag.]

Grahve: Layla. Hearing a Chosen’s name on Lash’s filthy lips made my skin crawl, but I wasn’t about to correct him on the little scenario he’d invented in his head. Especially if it kept my partner off his radar. Instead I narrowed my eyes at him as the hood was torn away.

It didn’t seem fair that someone so evil had a face like that. I’d never wanted to break something beautiful so badly in all my life. The memory of his lips on mine, of the way he pressed down my body and made me ‘feel’...

I spat out a wad of blood and spit the second the gag was gone, and whatever self preservation instincts I had left kept me from spitting it ‘on’ him. Though the temptation was definitely fucking there.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. You have it all figured out. Go you,” I sneered, wishing I’d had a lot more to drink. Maybe then it would numb the pain that was sure to follow. “I’d pin a gold star on your collar but I’m a little tied up right now. So how bout you fuck right off and do it yourself? There’s a good lad.”

In my head I ran down my list of options. Insulting Lash for as long as possible definitely made the list, and pretty close to the top I might add. Holding out for a rescue, though, was pretty far /down/. The nausea in my gut curdled into a dread realisation as I recalled the Lockdown, the fact that no one was supposed to be out on rotation at the moment to even notice me not showing up, and that after everything with Crhis and Qhuinn? No one was going to be looking for me…

A spark lit up my nerves. The realisation was so bright I struggled to keep it off my face, out of my eyes, so Lash didn’t see the kindling of hope.

Adrian.

The angel would surely notice I was gone… right? I’d made a promise to stay put and broken it. Sure, he might look for me back at the manse, but if I didn’t turn up he’d raise the alarm. The Brothers… they’d at least know the scent of Lash. Realise, maybe, what had happened. And even if they didn’t find me before I died… it soothed something jagged in me to know they’d at least be looking. That someone, somewhere, cared enough to notice I was gone.

“Considering how fancy you like your clothes,” I tried again, looking around, “I thought maybe you’d have a nicer place. Dad not covering your costs?”

Lash: [Pacing behind the male, my hand snapped out to grip the male's throat and tip his head back, his breath staining from the tension as I spoke.]

Oh I got more than a gold star. [My tongue slid up the side of his neck tasting anger, anguish, and a fainter hint of fear. Now that he'd figured out who /I/ was, most of the arrogance had been knocked out of his sails. Hence the hint of fear.]

You were more than willing to give it to me, weren't you… you cannot deny that scent of fucking you were giving off.  The male you'd been fucking must have been quite the tasy little treat. [A slow, hard bite to his ear, fangs drawing that much more blood, coupled with a rut of my hips against his ass for emphasis and I stepped back around to face the trainee, brushing my hands off.] And yet you went to the club looking for more ways to drown yourself.

[I hadn't missed his initial outburst made, I barely contained the giddy feeling inside, and grinned fiendishly at the way his body tensed and grew cold at the mention of the Chosen and his sappy broken heart. I knew I'd hit a low sore spot that I could use to against him.

Ignoring his baiting comments about my attire -mental note to swap out to leathers once I'd returned to the compound, no sense in ruining an Armani- I delivered a hard fist to his fine nose, the burst of fresh coppery iron wafting across the breeze as it dripped in rivulets down his chin.]

See? We're going to have lots of fun.

Grahve: The feel of his tongue against my neck earned a disgusted shudder, my stomach revolting even as I swallowed down a fresh wave of bile. I barely felt it as his fangs pierced my ear, blood scenting the air. His hips bucking against mine brought to mind all the ways we might’ve tangled in the sheets, when I’d been willing, and the reality was so much worse. What would the Brothers say? I’d been about to fuck the enemy… Sweet Scribe… and all because I’d let myself fall for and give a shit about the males in that manse.

What had I become?

Trying to shake off the darkness that flooded every molecule of my miserable being, I adopted a sneer, forcing myself to remember the times I’d been completely alone in the world and survived. I could be that guy again.

“Next time I’ll just look for ways to actually drown. Probably a better outcome than ‘this’ one,” I point out coolly.

My last smart ass comment. Right before he broke my nose.

My head snapped back. I tasted blood. As I blinked through the haze and the pain, I sagged forward and spat a fresh mouthful onto the floor. Well, mostly the floor. Pretty sure a nice bit of it landed on his pants. And shoes. N’awwww…

“No wonder you weren’t in the training program long…” I panted and heaved in a breath with a broken, bloody smile, “what with a weak ass punch like that…”

Lash: Think you're funny? [The mangy fuck had the audacity to chuck a mouthful of blood at me. Growling low, I spun the male around and drove my fingers into the knife wound, pushing deep until his body swung off the ground and something popped and the male cried out.

Movement at the doorway barely registered enough to draw my attention away and only served to piss me off even more. The growl that tore from my throat spoke only one word to the brainless fuck that had the balls, -figuratively-, to interrupt me. Death.

Liquid energy rolled down my arm, pooling in my bloodied hand as I turned to decimate the motherfucker that dared interrupt my playtime. The lesser stood his ground but the fear dripped off him like a sliced carotid. In his hands shook a female body, a black canvas hood bunched around her head and shoulders, doing nothing to staunch her whimpers.]

You're fucking lucky, you know that. [The immediate impact of the sudden additional present hit me, a smirk kicking up the corner of my mouth as I glanced at the strung up trainee. Oh yes, this was going to work so much faster this way. She wasn't a Chosen, but female blood was female blood.]

String her up. [Pointing with just a look, the Lesser nodded without a word and did as told. The female's struggled, nearly freeing herself when her body suddenly slumped, loose-limbed, the lesser having knocked her cold with a fist to the temple. A hoarse growl and muffled rattle of chains fueled my smirk.]

Oh wait. [I glanced at the male dangling by his wrists and then at the female and back to the hanging meat.] My bad. Where are my manners. Are you thirsty?

Grahve: I didn’t know pain like this existed without unconsciousness following. As Lash buried his fingers in my flesh my whole body jerked and twisted to escape it. I wasn’t even aware I was doing it, every animal instinct in me screaming to get away when something gave out. Probably a lung.

The room swam as blessed darkness crept into the edge of my vision. But it didn’t linger. As Lash withdrew, my mind returned. It was just in time to catch the whimpers of a woman - a female. My spine stiffened, my fingers curling into fists in their chains.

Of course. The lock down. With no Brothers on the street, Lash had free reign on the species. Nausea coiled in my gut as I watched him tie her up, and when she resisted, the demon struck. She crumpled as a snarl bubbled up my throat, wound be damned.

“You don’t seriously think I’d take blood from some helpless female?” I growled, glaring, furious at my helplessness. How was I supposed to help her when I couldn’t even help myself right now? It didn’t matter if her blood would heal… me…

I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to… He’ll force feed me if it means he gets to keep playing. The idea is revolting.

“…it doesn’t matter if I say no, does it?” I mutter blackly, disgust laced through every word.

Lash: [Ignoring the trainee’s disgust, though I don’t know why, the female wasn’t bad on the eyes except for the fat lip and swollen eye and she smelled fucking delicious, I indicated to the Lesser he needed to make sure she was easily within reach without having to loosen her bonds. There was little chance of her finding escape, but it was better to overly cautious. Past experiences were still biting my ass in the form of the Omega each time we had those sire-son talks.]

Absolutely, I think that you’ll do it willingly even.

[Stalking over to the female and gripping her chin, tugging it up enough to confirm she was still indeed alive, I let the supple slumping of her unconsciousness hang from her place near the trainee and stepped back to admire my haul without giving anything away. This was going to change my plans only slightly, in the manner that I’d be able to keep the trainee longer than I first anticipated. If my Lessers could obtain another female within a few days, unharmed enough to be of use, I’d be able to send the Brotherhood quite the set of messages. Piece by fucking piece.]

And if you want the female to live beyond the next rising sun, I suggest you feed when you’re told to.

Grahve: I wanted to curse, to snarl my disbelief; as if he wasn’t going to kill her - fuck - kill us both, but what other option did I have? If I refused… he killed her now. If I took her vein, maybe I got enough strength to get us out of this. Maybe I buy us both time.

Biting back the slew of responses, all of which would probably go down about as well as a lead balloon, I went with the smart option. Even as my insides shrivelled in repulsion and shame.

“Fine.”

The word tasted nasty as I dropped my gaze to the blood spattered floor. My blood. It dribbled down my side as I heaved in a breath through the agony of a burst lung. And my broken nose.

“But let’s not kid ourselves…” The words slipped out even as a small part of my brain screamed to STFU. I met his gaze again. “How long are you gonna do this before you get tired of me? I’m just a toy for you to play with till I break, right? Then let’s get it over with. Just do it.”

Lash: [Strolling back to face the male, I gave a minute nod to the Lesser that had positioned himself behind the trainee. The pale fucker began cutting away the male’s clothes, starting with his shirt.]

Looks like it hurts.

[Grinning, I eyed the jagged edges of the bright red and purple wound as he was stripped down. And thought of the angel Lassiter. How his scars were MY mark on his body. Scars I created, a signature of sorts. What kind of signature could I put on the trainee? Mentally waving it off, I knew it would come to me when the time was right.

The male’s body was definitely impressive, well muscled and lean, as a fighter’s body should be. Once he’d been stripped of all his clothing, the bloodied pile on the floor.. wait, was that.. Tipping my head a bit, my grin pulled the smirk routine. He was blushing! Face flushed, aside from the fact of how pale he was starting to look from blood loss, there was no mistaking the traineed was embarrassed at being so exposed.]

Oh come now. [Chuckling darkly, I hardly ficked a finger toward the hanging female and the Lesser that had bared the male’s body of annoying restrictions now worked the same effortless theme on the female.]

I’m sure she’s seen a naked male before, though maybe not one of your particularly appealing form. She’ll be honored to offer you her vein. If she wakes in time.

Grahve: Being left bare before the Brotherhood’s greatest enemy brought whatever blood I had left to my face. I tried not to shift in the restraints and give the game away, but as his eyes raked over me like I was a meal, he smirked and knew. Fuck. Like this could get worse…

My lip lifted in a snarl that bared my fangs (probably the last thing of me that had actually been covered) as the Lesser set about stripping the female.

“Leave her alone. Whatever you wanna do to her, do to me! She’s a /civilian/, right? Not a fighter. Not a warrior. It’s beneath you to hurt her,” I bit out, somehow averting my eyes as the female body was bared, every curve and slender muscle. “Or are you so low I should be shocked you don’t slither and crawl?”

Hey, provoking him probably wasn’t my best idea, but if it drew even a lick of attention away from the female, I’d do it again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; me helpless and watching some poor female be strung up and humiliated.

Lash: Who do you think I practice on? [I spoke without taking my eyes off the male, the illborne wickedness boiling under the gossamer surface of my form. Even without being consciously aware of what fueled the process, John Mathew had been my first directive. I had paid, and was still paying, for fucking that one up; the Omega never forgave for incompetance no matter the reason.

So I put into practice what I gleaned from each call ‘home’ to my sire. While it was never a fun visit, I did take away new skills to cultivate for my own use. It took too much energy to reanimate my own Lessers in the beginning, so I used whoever they, or I, managed to capture. Like the Chosen Layla. Now /she/ was one that never should have escaped. The Lesser that gave her the opportunity still decorated the wooded copse I’d blasted his carcass across. Or the more frequent random males and females of the species. Human rats were overlooked for the obvious reasons that they would never survive the capture. Let alone a single day/night under my hand.

Realigning my thoughts with the here and now, I waved a dismissal to the pale fuck who was eyeing the naked female with too much drool dripping down his chin at the malicious hunger brewing in his mind. With a sneering smirk, the Lesser skulked back to the corner of the room to await further orders. Just because they were impotent, didn’t mean that the desire to cut and kill died off as well.

The trainee’s compassion for the female negated his own need for survival. But this wouldn’t do. He needed to make the choice to fight to live. Even at the expense of another should the choice come to it, which I’d make sure it would. Many, many times.

Stalking back to the work bench along the far wall I picked up a long flat blade and returned to stand before the female, keeping the male at the edge of my vision. The sharp steel glinting under the lights as I held it up, admiring the razor honed edge before pressing it to the female’s throat deep enough to draw a nice, slow but steady rivulet of blood to run down her neck between her ample breasts.]

Do you think you can stop it before she bleeds out? [I mused to myself, turning to the feral-eyed fury that was the male strung up in chains and licked the blade clean.]

Grahve: As the blade cut into her flesh I felt two things. One, that I hated myself for wanting her blood, and two, that I now knew such hatred that I would gladly lose almost every limb if it meant the last one could plunge a knife into that bastard’s heart.

Her blood perfumed the air the longer it ran, from her throat, all the way down to her naval and down her leg to her toes. My body hungered for it in my injured state, and with sheer force of will alone I made myself focus on Lash. He watched me, watched every emotion that played out on my face, and I found myself wishing I was more like Vishous, or Zsadist, two Brothers who knew how to hide every thought, feeling or desire. Why couldn’t they have taught a fucking class on /that/?

“What, with my tongue?” I glanced at the red river with a flash of panic and wanted to punch something. Pulling at my own restraints - and boy, didn’t that remind me of the whole gauntlet my body had already run - I leant in closer to the female, breathing in her scent. “She won’t die. It’s not enough…”

I somehow managed to regret the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Because even a statement of fact, or a general denial, would undoubtedly seem like a challenge to the demon spawn. The fresh burst of anxiety, the fear that he would suddenly pull that knife back up and whip it across her throat until I was sprayed in blood, opened my mouth.

“Forget it, you’re right. Let me stop the bleeding!” I pulled at my restraints until I could put my lips to the wound, and even as a mouthful, or two, slid down my throat, I lapped my tongue over the wound, trying to seal it.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore Lash, ignore my body and the need that was burning inside it, even as the blood started to slow. My fangs scraped against her skin and my stomach snarled, a growl bubbling up my throat. Then I was trying to pullback, my tongue running over the wound.

Lash: Come on, you can reach her. Come on. [The encouragement was sincere enough, I /did/ want to see if he could make it on his own; the pulley system which they’d both been rigged to was movable to any place in the building with the right adjustments. The trainee didn’t disappoint. But I had doubts, I really did. For all of five seconds. And I’d been ready to follow through and gut the female from chin to belly if the male hadn’t stepped up when he did.

I shuffled around the two in a macabre dance, watching the male’s throat work the blood down as quickly as he could, his efforts trying to stop the flow in spite of the need, his body’s need, to keep drinking. I could have played this out far longer than was formally necessary, but I did so enjoy a little drama after a long dry spell. This was merely play time, a warm up session for when the Royal family came to visit. I absolutely could /not/ disappoint King Wrath upon his arrival.

As Grahve’s throat slowed, the working of his jaw indicating he was finished, though I knew he would need more than a few little sips to heal properly, I reached over and patted him on the shoulder for effort.]

Such a valiant effort. Bravo my friend. Bra-vo. See? It wasn’t as difficult as you made it seem. [I paced around the pair once, twice, the female slowly beginning to come to with mumbled whimpers and moans.] Are you sure you’ve had enough?

Grahve: Feeling Lash’s hand on my skin in a fashion that wasn’t torturous was, in itself, a kind of torture. My skin crawled as I shifted away from him, not wanting the contact, the camaraderie sensation. Crhis was my partner. The Brothers my allies. I didn’t want Lash’s praise.

I ignored his question to stare at the female, leaning in slightly.

“Hey, are you okay? My name’s Grahve. Can you hear me?”

I shot Lash a filthy look as the female mumbled and groaned, barely coherent as she struggled in her restraints and shifted in the puddle of her blood on the floor. She seemed to notice that - notice that she was naked straight after. A shudder went through her, then a kind of sob. My chest ached for her; that she’d been dragged into this shithole.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, I’m here with you,” I murmured, wishing her blood wasn’t still on my lips, helping seal the hole in my lung. “Can you tell me your name?”

Lash: Looks like she’s not that into you, Grahve. [Doing a back n’ forth between the two, I wrapped an arm around both waists, ignoring the fact that the female was starting to really wake up now. The weak tugging on the chains was indicative of the minor blood loss and likely the blow to her head and the trainee’s encouraging tone.]

But don’t worry, I’ll send my boys out to find you something a little more fresh and easier on the eyes. [With that promise, silent shock painted the male’s face, his half-strangled cry caught in his throat as the hot red scent of iron dripped down his face, his chest and thighs. The female’s struggles were more erratic now, twitching really.]

Grahve: Red. It had a smell. I was covered in it. The taste of her was all over me. Her body writhed in front of me. Her throat was a gaping hole. Blood spurted, oozed, trickled and spilled.

“Shit…”

It was the only word that came out. She looked at me, the light in her eyes dying. Betrayal flickered there. Why was she dying. Why was I alive. Why was Lash still holding me…

Bile rose in my throat as I tried to wrench away. From him. From her. I’d failed her. As she gasped her last breath I knew I’d remember the sound until I died.

Hopefully it’d be soon…

[luxminima]

DIANA BARTON LIVINGSTON is a 25 year old PANSEXUAL, FEMALE, SHE/HER that hails from NEW YORK CITY. They are known as the hero LUMINA with the power of LIGHT GENERATION/EMPOWERMENT. Some people say they look a lot like ANA DE ARMAS. They are BENEVOLENT but can be FEARFUL. They are a member of the great HEROES UNION!

hi hello this is reg with my baby who is a very smol soft made of literal sunshine but will cry very easily, has v bad mental health and rly loves her moms (she has like three ok) and writes childrens books and has potty trained rabbits

Diana is the daughter of the infamous villain Midnight, who gave her up when she was born to be raised by an adoptive family.

Turns out, that was a huge mistake since the family that took Diana in was incredibly abusive.

She suffered their torture for the first years of her life, and it was with the abuse that she discovered she had powers.

Diana had always been terrified of the dark, more irrationally than children often are. She couldn’t sleep without a nightlight and days without sun made her feel sad and weakened. But one of her adoptive family’s favorite punishments was locking her in a tiny closet when they said she had misbehaved (even when she was such a quiet and mellow little girl). And the thought of the dark closet was enough for Diana to feel the kind of pure terror that nobody (especially a child) should ever feel. She’d cry and scream until she’d pass out, tiny fists covered in bruises and blood. 

She’d much rather take a beating, be starved and treated like less than an animal than be subjected to darkness. To this day, Diana still can’t explain how she feels when she’s enveloped in it.

But she also discovered that after a day playing outside, basking under the sun, her palms would glow. Or she could make the light in her room be a different color. Whatever it was, she had to keep it hidden from her adoptive parents so they wouldn’t hurt her.

When Diana wasn’t even 10 years old, she woke up one day to a familiar woman telling her that her adoptive family was gone and that she was her real mother, Amelia. Finally, after so many pleas that had seemed ignored, her mom was coming back for her. And tiny Diana thought that everything was going to be okay from now on.

But just like Diana was sunlight, warmth, bright lights and day, Amelia was shadows, darkness and night. They were opposites and Diana couldn’t understand her. Diana weakened in the dark, Amelia thrived in it.

They couldn’t coexist.

Diana just wanted to be loved, accepted and be kept safe. She wanted to be out of the dreaded darkness that never seemed to leave her.

She lived in uncertainty, trying to gain her mother’s respect and then Amelia was being sent to jail. Because she had done a lot of bad things, more than Diana’s young mind could understand. One of those bad things had been killing her adoptive family.

Diana didn’t know how to feel. Her adoptive family were people who had put a roof over her head but had left her small body littered with scars and her brain broken with fear and distrust. Could she really be mad at Amelia for doing that? To this day, she still can’t make up her mind.

A a miserable stint in the system, Diana met Fawna Livingston: her birth mother’s past love and her new guardian angel. Fawna adopted Diana and she became the beacon of hope and love in the little girl’s dark life.

Diana was withdrawn and distrustful, having lived a short life full of bad luck and betrayal. It took her a while to warm up to Fawna, let alone the rest of the redheads.

Eventually, Diana opened up to Fawna and became her little shadow, clinging to her new mother, always scared that the other shoe was going to drop and she was gonna find herself abandoned again.

Diana slowly came out of her shell and became a Livingston (though she always feels like the odd one out to the point where she’s been very close to dyeing her hair several times). She went to school and got degrees in Creative Writing and English and History (though it was never as impressive as what the rest of her family had) because writing had always been her escape and turns out she was quite good at it.

By the time she was in her early-twenties, Diana got her first book published. A children’s book about being adopted. It wasn’t exactly a success but she now had an agent and a deal with a publishing house to keep writing more books for kids.

So that’s what Diana does most of the time, she reads quietly and writes books for children.

But she has also harvested and strengthened her powers to become the superheroine Lumina. Who casually has the exact opposite powers as her biological mom, Midnight, the feared villainness

Diana is the kind of hero that never strikes first. In fact, she usually never attacks, she just defends and defends, usually even if it puts her own life at risk. She’s just terrified of what she could do, to a friend and even a foe. She does not like to battle.

It’s one of her most shameful features, but Diana knows that her past left her more broken than she cares to admit. Her fears are too irrational and make her behave as such and she’s in a constant state of apprehension and anxiety.

But she’s a gentle and caring soul, who just wants to help whoever she can and try to put her grain of sand in making the world a better place.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you have pets? If so, what kind? If not, why not? Yep. I have a 1 year old German Shepherd/Lab mix named Princess Leia. She takes the princess part very seriously. haha.

Who do you live with? My parents, younger brother, and the Princess herself.

Are there any family members you never get along with? It’s not that we don’t get along, but we do bicker and butt heads sometimes.

What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? I’d have to say the incident that made me a paraplegic at just 7 months old would be the saddest, but I’ve had a lot of other things happen as well throughout my life with health stuff and obstacles along with that, loss of loved ones, heartbreak, etc.  As for the happiest... I have a harder time pinpointing something. I’ve had happy times, like my childhood was great despite some obstacles. I look back on my childhood very fondly. Many happy memories with family like vacations, holidays, and just times together. Getting my dogs, Brandie and Princess Leia. Graduating. Getting accepted into the college of my choice. Stuff like that is what comes to mind.

How many years has it been since you graduated high school? It’s been 10 years. D:

What was the last new drink you discovered that was delicious? Hmm. I haven’t had a new drink in a long time, so I don’t recall.

What are five things you are good at? 1. Taking surveys. 2. drinking coffee. 3. Pushing people away. 4. Putting myself down and being my own toughest critic and enemy. 5. Overthinking everything.

What are five things you are bad at? 1. Doing some things that would really be beneficial for me. 2. Being a functional adult. 3. Not pushing people away. 4. Masking my emotions. 5. Math.

Do you have a YouTube channel? Yes. I don’t upload videos, although I actually did upload a few years ago. Those videos will never see the light of day again, though. lol.

Do you have trouble letting things go? Yes.

What was the easiest subject for you in school? English.

Do you decorate for holidays? Yep. I especially love to decorate for Christmas.

Do you dress up for holidays? I used to sometimes, but nah not anymore.

Did your high school have a strict dress code? I don’t think it was different than most high school’s dress codes.

Were you happy as a teenager? I struggled with low self-esteem and depression, but not like how I do now.

What do you do for your mom on Mother’s Day? I take her to breakfast or lunch and buy her some gifts.

Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? No.

Have you killed a bug this week? No.

What was the first food you learned how to cook? Top Ramen.

Do you have a Bachelor’s degree? If so, what in? Yes, in psychology.

Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I always go with my mom.

How long is your average shower? 30-45 minutes.

What color is your soap? Like a peachy color.

What is the most awful thing about the world today? There’s a lot.

Have you ever been arrested? If so, what for? No.

Have you ever been in court? If so, in which role? No.

Could you go a day without talking to the last person you kissed? We’ve gone like 3 years now.

Would you die for someone you love? Yes, but my favorite counter question to that, which I think says even more in my case is, “would you live for someone you love?” The way things are going right now in my life with health stuff and me not taking care of myself like I should be, plus the fact that I’ve let my health consume and take over... I’m not really living. I’m letting my life pass me by as I just waste away I feel like. My family worries a lot about me and they’re stressed out and also frustrated. They don’t want to see me this way. They of course want more for me than this.

Would you have sex with someone of the same gender as you? No.

What do you identify as? Like my name or gender? I’m a female named Stephanie.

Have you ever been addicted to something? Yes.

Have you ever gotten drunk? Yes, a few times.

Have you ever dealt with an eating disorder? I feel like I have something of an eating disorder, but I don’t know. It’s not anorexia or bulimia, but something is going on with me and food.

Have you ever stolen a street sign? No. I don’t get why people do that.

Have you ever eaten a piece (even just a small bit) of paper? No.

Introvert or extrovert? Introvert to the core.

Trump or Hillary? Blah.

Have you ever stepped in something disgusting with bare feet? No, but I’ve ran over cat and dog poop on accident *BARF* SO disgusting.

Have you ever had a concussion? No.

How many dresses do you own? Like 5.

When was the last time someone scared you? Yesterday. My mom came running out of the bathroom towards me with a Scream mask on and I screamed bloody murder lol. It was too real cause the way she came rushing out was just like how it’s does it in the movie slkjskdlfjlds.

Have you ever thought someone died when they didn’t? Yes! Such a weird thing. I had a dream and I wasn’t sure if I really did dream it or if it was real, so I ended up looking this person up on Facebook. They were very much alive, thankfully. It was just random, too, because it’s not even someone I’m friends with. It was someone from elementary and high school that I haven’t seen or talked to sine then.

Can you crack anything besides your knuckles? I sometimes crack my neck by just moving my head side to side. I don’t like do the whole, grab my chin and twist my head as far as I can. That freaks me out. I also stretch out my arm sometimes if I feel like it needs it and it cracks.

Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? No.

Would you ever go bear hunting? No.

When was the last time you sang along with a song? Which one was it? It was recently, but I forget what song it was at the moment.

Do you prefer drawing or painting? Any particular reason why? I only color and that works for me.

Name something you thought was cool when you were younger but don’t now: Hmm.

What was the last book you read? I’m reading, “The Lonely Girl” by Gracie Wilson.

Do you like raisins? Chocolate covered ones are better.

Do you have a printer? Yeah.

Did you like the movie Antz? I’ve never seen it.

Is it okay to have crushes while in a relationship with someone else? I wouldn’t be okay with that. I mean, unless it was like a celebrity crush.

What do you think of sexism and double-standards? Do you believe in double-standards or do you think we should stop doing stuff like that? (ex. women can wear skirts and pants, but guys can only wear pants or they’ll get made fun of if they wore skirts): Uh, I think that they suck.

What’s your age range when it comes to dating? I think I’d go a year younger, but I’d really prefer them to be my age or older up to like 5 years.

If you had kids, would you want them to look like you? I’m not having kids.

Were you born with hair on your head? Yeah.

Would you rather have a home birth or hospital birth? Hospital.

If you could go back to your senior prom, what would you do differently? My prom went fine.

Do you currently live in the house you grew up in? No.

Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? I didn’t have one.

Who were your best friends in high school? Derek, Gabby, Gage, and Amanda.

Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? It’d have to be the bottom bunk for me.

Are you close with your cousins? I used to be with a few, but not anymore. :(

Are you close to any aunts or uncles? One of my aunts and I are pretty close.

Are you close to your grandparents? I was very close to my maternal grandparents, especially my grandmother. I have a good relationship with my paternal grandparents as well, but again especially to my Nana. It’s not the same how it was with my maternal grandma, though.

Who betrayed your trust? Meh.

Who was your first best friend (apart from a sibling)? These 2 girls, Crystal and Starr, in preschool.

What’s the name of the gas station you last stopped at? *shrug*

Is there a topic that gets you really heated when it’s brought up? I avoid ones that would.

Do you forget to flip the page of your calendar at the start of each month? No, I’m pretty good about that.

Would you ever agree to an open relationship with someone? No.

Who is your least favorite actor? I don’t know if I really have a particular least favorite.

When is the last time you had a cigarette? Never.

Was babysitting your first job? It’s been my only one, if you want to count it since I only ever babysat my younger brother and a couple of my cousins. I need get money for it sometimes, though.

Do people always say you’re too thin? Yes, I hear that a lot from family and my doctors. I’m very well aware of it.

Is there something that you could never give up? Coffee, it would seem. ha.

Do you prefer piano music or violin music? Piano.

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collarbone? No. Have you ever showered with someone? No.

Are you racist to any race? No.

Have you ever intentionally hurt an animal? No.

Do you like being hot or cold better? Cold. I like cozying up under a blanket, wearing a hoodie or sweatshirt,  enjoying a nice hot beverage, and/or sitting near the fireplace. Being hot is just absolutely miserable to me and there’s nothing enjoyable about it.

What’s the best thing about school? I liked the learning part and some of the assignments/projects for the most part, but I could have done without all the stressed. I got so overwhelmed and burnt out so easily.

Do you watch independent movies? Have a favorite? Not usually.

In relationships, are you obsessive? No.

Have you ever auditioned for American Idol? Ha, no. I can’t sing at all. I mean, I can, technically, but I can’t sing well.

What’s your favorite Dr. Suess book? Hmm. Not sure I really have a particular favorite.

Do you dot your “i"s will little hearts? No.

Do you own any autographed memorabilia? No.

Have you ever dated a twin? No.

Do you own any expensive designer purses? No.

Do you look like a boring person? Probably. They’d be right to think that.

Oreos or Chips Ahoy? Oreos.

Do you have a better body or a better face? Neither.

Is it hard for you to admit when you’re hurt? No.

Have you ever considered being a cop? Nope.

Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Life is Strange. ha.

Do you like sitting in the front, back, or middle of the classroom? I had to sit in the front.

Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightning before? No.

What’s your favorite superhero movie? The Avengers films, Deadpool 1& 2, Guardians of the Galaxy volume 1 & 2.

Do you struggle with acne? Not really. I get a little now and then. I did when I was a teenager and through my early 20s, though.

Have you ever fostered an animal? No.

Do you have a back pack in a shape of an animal? Yeah, I have a giraffe backpack.

[captpoonam]

Call-For-An-End-To-The-Myths-Of-Paraya-Dhan | captpoonam

The Government of India is expected to increase the matrimonial age of women above the age of 18 and to make it 21 equal to that of men. Although this is seen as a movement towards empowering women, the concern that needs to be raised is: Can age be adjusted to switch the patriarchal mindset in a culture that treats women to be only liability or a paraya dhan? Will this spike in the marriage age eliminate the choice of male-child, which is at the base of many violence against women in India?

According to the Reports, India has accounted for 45.8 million of the world's 142.6 million females lost in the last 50 years. These children were either neglected or murdered after or before their birth. This is although sex-selection screening, female infanticide, and forced abortions are constitutionally forbidden in India. The concrete manifestation for this is that sons are favored over daughters in schooling, jobs, independence, and as the legitimate ruler to the house.

Women in Indian households are being brought up as undesirable daughters. They are stereotyped as a liability or a paraya dhan whose entire aim is to get married and then go to their in-laws' home. That's why they left school, availed of minimum nourishment and health care, and married as soon once they get the spouse they seek, irrespective of whether they're a minor or not. Women are devastated by these discrepancies, even as the law notes in plain terms that all human beings are fair and have equal opportunities to be educated, employed, and protected.

And how is a new adjustment to the legislation supposed to guarantee that people obey it? Even if the government raises the marriage level, would it be able to minimize the rates of female foeticide in India? Will the clear rise in the marriage age make parents realize that girls are not a challenge to their families?

Will the rise in marriage age call for an end to the myths of Paraya Dhan?

Even if parents can motivate their girls and look after their welfare, the high cost of schooling and the healthcare system would become a huge obstacle.

Indian households prefer to spend less on women's food and health care than men do. And now the cost of health and programs is expected to accelerate further. The costs of healthcare per person are anticipated to double the rate of growth in health care. There has been a sharp spike in the quality of healthcare goods relative to healthcare facilities.

In addition to health care, increasing costs of schooling often prevent parents from having their daughters in education, as they always prefer that if one child has to learn, it should be a boy. 

At the end of the day, parents are hesitant to spend lots of money on a daughter who is, after all, a paraya dhan, and her schooling and prosperity would not be funded by the parents but by the in-laws.

Widespread Epidemic of Dowry System in India

Many findings suggest that the existence of the dowry culture makes women a financial strain on their families. The best time for a woman to get engaged is when the parents are willing to afford the dowry, and not when the woman is physically and emotionally fit. This occurs more often when they're young than 18.

Also, Read Stop Body-Shaming: You are beautiful

If the marriage age rises, the parents will naturally become much more hesitant to have a girl's child. Since the prevailing attitude is that providing for a woman's marriage is more vital than funding her college.

I think that the initial step of this modernity – raising the age for marriage – is a promising step, but it seems that it has not been sorted out fully. The government would need to do better to make future decisions better successful.  

The government also needs to upgrade the role of women in the economy, the system of education, healthcare facilities and give them access to women.

There should be awareness-raising among communities, both rural and urban, about empowering their daughters with nutrition and healthcare facilities.

Parents should also be instructed to teach and inspire their daughters rather than give in to societal pressures and marry them at a young age, against their preference.

It should be about empowering women and preparing them, so they do not leave school at an early age.

The emphasis also requires maintaining a healthy atmosphere, normalizing women finding jobs, and providing opportunities for women in rural areas to be financially truly independent.

Look around us, see how the girls brought dignity and prestige to our country. There is no discussion of racism against women. Daughters are not a liability, but a family prestige, and it is equally necessary to provide them with proper nourishment.

The people of India are committed to building an environment of equality for the girl child and to ending gender inequality in the region.

We have no authority to declare ourselves 21st-century people as long as we have an 18th-century attitude. Asking for an end to inequality between sons and daughters was the secret to ending foeticide in India.

Each of us has a common responsibility for this, otherwise, we will not only injure the present generation but would also call for a "miserable crisis for coming generations".

Adequate training and mass mobilization are needed to bring about change. It takes years to eradicate the horrors of life, and the issues of five centuries can not be fixed in a small amount of time. Yet, if we behave quickly now, then, we will address the issue promptly.

The strength of better nutrition among childhood is essential to optimize a discrimination-free nation.

The 'Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao' policy has been extended from the current 161 districts to 640 districts of the country. There was a need to change the lives of women and to unleash the strength of women to design a New India.

They glitter everywhere from the school environment to athletics. Let's pledge today to cultivate an atmosphere of inclusion for the girl child. There is no issue of prejudice on the grounds of gender.

Female foeticide is a matter of huge embarrassment and a source of considerable concern. Let us perform together to eliminate this threat from society.

[yourfriendremy-blog]

REMY L. HARMON | 28 | FASHION BLOGGER & BARISTA

BASICS

Full Name:  Remy Lucille Harmon Nicknames:  Rem, RiRi Age: 28 Sexuality:  Bisexual  Date of Birth:  December 10th, 1989 Place of Birth:  San Diego, California Gender: Female Current Location: New York City, NY

MORE BASIC INFO

Languages:  English. Religion: Agnostic.  Education: BS in Fashion Merchandising from Columbia Chicago, MA in Fashion Studies Occupation:  Barista & Fasshion Blogger Drinks, Smokes, & Drugs: all of the above.

BIOGRAPHY

Growing up in San Diego to an absolutely wealthy pair of humans was not something worth apologizing for. You get what you get in this life and Remy was well aware of that. As a young girl, she was the type to wear whatever her mother asked of her. Slipped her feet into ballet shoes twice a week, her body into pink dresses more often than not, and her hair in braids if her mother asked her. That was how being the six-year-old daughter of a lawyer and a doctor went. No one else held a candle to her mother and the world shone so bright. Remy still remembers the smell of her mom’s shampoo and how she was held so closely every night before bed. The perfectionism and watchful eyes over the young girl continued into her teen years. Her discipline with ballet grew and she was now dancing up to 6 times per week, her parents and other family members watching her closely. Sure to get good grades, Remy slept about 3 hours a night in order to finish everything and study properly.

This cycle of pleasing others in a way to make them love her was how Remy lived her life, but it’s not what made her happy. A miserable child raised to mask her sadness with selflessness, she was positive that there had to be more to life. High school rolled around and seeing other kids go against what their parents wanted began to steal the attention of the sable haired girl. While she was still sure to please her family, teachers, and onlookers at every turn, the girl kept her eye on what other people were doing that seemed to be calling her name. This internal battle of whether or not her life should be what others thought it should or her life being up to her was one that continued to haunt her.

Chicago’s wind and gloomy nature felt like home to Remy before she had even unpacked. She had decided, after graduating with a 4.0 and getting into Columbia University, Chicago to pursue a degree in Business Management, that this was the right place for her to be. This was where she met the people who made her feel like she had to continue being what her family wanted her to be. It wasn’t, of course, until the middle of her freshman year that she began to realize the smile masking all of what was beneath was beginning to fade. Her mother’s mental health beginning to decline half way through the year is what made it all come crumbling down. She dropped her dance minor and business minor, the ballet slippers collecting dust in the back of her closet, exchanged for a fashion merchandising major, and she was no longer able to keep the 4.0 up, much to her father’s dismay. Remy finally snapped. Her lifelong cheerleader and role model was now fading away and so were her cares for what everyone else thought. She started ditching her friends for people who enjoyed doing the things she liked to do and began realizing that there was so much more to life than her family’s dreams. She finished college, deciding to follow in her mother’s footsteps to move to New York City, but hasn’t spoken to her father much to her father since the continued decline of her mother’s health.

Remy remained a shell of a human, somewhat cold to those around her. Of course, upon going to Parsons to get her master’s, she forced herself to be the best. She wanted to impress her mother who she was sure had to come back to them eventually. And she did just that. Excelling in all of her courses, even when she was in love. Even when she had a younger, more intense distraction than ever before. It was up to Remy to make her life what she wanted it to be and no one was going to take her focus off of that. No matter how much she loved them.

Becoming a somewhat well-known stylist and blogger has been something that Remy needed more than she could explain. That, and her solid group of supportive, though sometimes annoying friends. These people, no matter how different from her, were why she was able to do anything successfully.

PERSONALITY

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius MBTI: INFJ Likes:  cold weather, texting 4 messages instead of 1, ice cream, shopping/anything to do with fashion, Dislikes:  taking on the phone, folding laundry, Bad Habits:  walking into rooms without knocking, doing the crossword in other people’s newspapers Secret Talent: she is an impeccably trained ballerina. Hobbies:  blogging, shopping, finding the best ice cream shops, running Fears:  taking tests, having the same mental health issues as her mother Five Positive Traits:   Five Negative Traits:

FAMILY INFORMATION

Parent Names:  Joseph & Naomi Harmon Sibling Names:  Mia Harmon (32) & Leo Harmon (34) Family Relationship: 

PREFERENCES

coffee or tea? both. showering in the day or night? night. taking baths or taking showers? baths. tv or movies? movies. writing or reading? writing. platonic or romantic love? romantic. iced tea or lemonade? iced tea. ice cream or smoothies? ICE CREAM. cupcakes or cake? cake. beach or mountains? beach.

FAVORITES

song:  All in Vain - Wet band: HAIM outfit: x - anything with jean shorts place:  any beach, anywhere, anytime. person:  Barack Obama. movie:  Breakfast at Tiffany’s  show: Full House

[alightinthelantern]

Because the decade is ending I’ve been revisiting old interests and past fandoms from when I was a teen, and boy is it a trip down Memory Lane.

Listening to old Vocaloid songs from when I was in high school back in 2010, when I was 15 and new to internet culture, and it was one of the first Japanese culture I ever discovered. Apparently Vocaloids are still a thing? I knew Miku was still popular bc I’d seen stuff in the past year featuring her, but apparently the other Vocaloid characters are too, and there’ve been a whole bunch of new ones introduced in the past decade? I remember when the whole Daughter of Evil saga was being created. I remember all the alt characters people created by taking the main vocaloids and pitch-altering their voice banks. The Vocaloid community was fresh and thriving back then. That was back when Gender-Bending was a staple of fandom culture, and making male “versions” of female characters and vice versa was hugely popular. This was when “Caramelldansen” and “Ievan Polkka” weren’t Classic Memes, this was when they were new, and all the rage.

I remember the Gamecube days, back in the 2000s, and watching my stepbrothers battle my sisters interchangeably on it or the old Nintento 64 they had, in Mario Kart, or Mortal Kombat, or the original Smash Brothers (I, who had terrible hand-eye coordination, wasn’t fit for playing, but was more content to passively enjoy anyway). I remember when the Wii was first introduced (my mother didn’t believe in video games for a long time, and only bought a console for the family about four years later). I remember the GameBoy, I remember the release of the first XBox. I remember the online dress-up doll games. I remember when the Lego Star Wars video game was first released, and being an avid fanatic of those famous bricks as a kid enjoyed watching my siblings play that probably more than than anything else.

I remember how huge the cosplay scene was in the early 2010s, for all kinds of shows. I remember reading Emma: A Victorian Romance by Kaoru Mori with glee as a teen, siting in a bean bag chair in the Teen Area of my local library, because they had a dedicated manga section and had the entire print run. That was back before Borders was bought out by Barnes & Noble and ceased to be, and I’d often sit in the second-floor manga section of my local Borders and read the volumes that caught my eye for a half-hour or more, and the store clerks didn’t care because it was a different world then, a different culture, and I was always a polite, well-behaved kid anyway who always physically respected the books. Apparently the anime adaptation of Mori’s Emma from years ago finally got an English dub in the past year? I’m going to have to track it down and give it a watch.

I remember loving the Romeo x Juliet anime as a teen, that crazy and brilliantly original high-fantasy reimagining of the classic play. I loved that the English dub script was mostly in Elizabethan-era English. I remember Ouran Host Club and Baccano! too, and the first of those being one of the funniest things I’d ever seen in my life at the time. Same with The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I remember liking Fruits Basket back in 1010, and only realizing years later how fucked up it actually was. I remember Baccano! and Nabari No Ou. I also remember some other shows whose names don’t bear repeating. I remember downloading their OSTs off dedicated websites that no longer exist. I still have these soundtracks in my iTunes library. I remember when burning playlists onto CDs was popular; they finally became obsolete and passé sometime in my high school years, after the rise of mp3 players and programs like iTunes crystallized the superiority of the .mp3, and then people would laugh when I mentioned my own burned CD collection.

I remember when Over the Garden Wall first came out, in 2014, and how groundbreaking it was at the time in terms of what an animated show could be, visually and plot-wise. That show still has a small bud dedicated fandom it seems. I remember the character ask-blogs that were so popular from 2014--16 on tumblr, both ones with drawn replies and ones with live cosplay photos or gifs. God, the ask-blog community was so huge at the time. That might have been the height of tumblr’s popularity, the mid-2010s. I remember DeviantART and the thriving fanart community it had before tumblr took over in the early 2010s. I remember all OCs people were making, and the ask-accounts before ask-blogs were a thing. I remember the roleplay groups. I remember all the fucked-up things people were into back then because the Scene Phase had come but not yet entirely gone, and because teens were emo little shits in general. I remember when anime pairings were written as “[name] x [name]” in full before people started mashing names together around 2014, I remember when words like y*oi and y*ri were the norm. Oh how times have changed. (And thank god they’ve changed)

I remember when the Twilight movies were being made and my high school health teacher put the first movie on in class one day and had the class point out different ways in with the romance was toxic and unhealthy. It’s mind-boggling that in 2019, after The Discourse had come, burned, raged, and gone, that people are still stupid enough to like those films. Even back then I was smart enough to see them for the creepy, badly-written dreck that they were. I remember when The Hunger Games was published (I never read it). I remember the first Hunger Games Movie coming out and the controversy surrounding Jennifer Lawrence being cast as the lead. I remember coming into school one day to find two of my teachers casually debating it (I never saw the movies, and didn’t particularly care about that conversation).

I remember watching an independent showing of Studio Ghibli’s From Up on Poppy Hill in 2015 at a local indie theater, and the audience roaring with laughter when one of the boys at the old club house asked “How can we make archaeology cool again?!” and another replying “We can’t!”, and then a woman in the audience said out loud “Archaeology is cool!”

I remember the birth, life and death of Vine, and despite The Discourse raging on tumblr at the time, the humor on that app was still largely Mainstream and often racist.

I remember Teen Wolf, and Glee, Sherlock and Supernatural and Doctor Who. I remember the emergence of “Superwholock” and the sheer insufferableness of the fandom before they eventually, blessedly died out. I remember the disappearance of shows like J*njou R*omantica and the rise of shows like Free! and Yuri on Ice!!!, Modern “woke” animes that still featured vapid, cliché-driven writing, with Modern “woke” audiences that were puerile-minded and cliché-hungry as ever, the same y*oi fangirls as those that had existed in the early 2010s, only now the shows had done away with the nasty R*pe-As-Romance and replaced it with cringey, ham-fisted pretenses of Realistic Psychology or Social Conscience. And I realized that anime fans my age weren’t worth their salt, and by that time I was too old for anime anyway so I finally dropped it. New animes have come and gone, new live action shows have come and gone, and all the same terrible fandom drama that has burned year after year regardless of show still burns. Same shit, different sewer.

I remember how different online culture was for teens a decade ago. I remember how different real life was for teens a decade ago. Everything has changed so much in the past decade. Teens were children when I was teen. Now, ten years later, teens are like miniature adults, thinking and speaking maturely, socially and politically conscious, wise beyond their years. Racism is acknowledged for the evil it is, and bigoted trolls are no longer socially accepted. When I was a teen, been an edgelord was in, and kids like me who were unusually conscientious were labeled Babies and Oversensitive whenever something didn’t sit right and we voiced objections. Anons telling people to kill themselves was routine. People were violent and ruthless online, and the culture was truly reminiscent of The Lord of The Flies, a cutthroat free-for-all among girls and boys of all ages.

But not anymore: as people keep saying these days, being an Asshole is Out, being Kind is In. Shit like H*zbin H*tel, that would’ve been immensely popular ten years ago, is acknowledged for the violent, vile crap it is. And the language around sexuality and gender has changed so drastically, and has opened up so much. There was no trans content a decade ago in fandom, and Gender-bending, when done to explore the social ramifications of a character as the “opposite gender” (because nothing outside the gender binary existed as far as fandom was then concerned), and not just for titillation, was always cisgendered and done by way of Alternate Universes.

I had a miserable experience as a teen, and I wish that I could have experienced this kind of environment in my formative years rather than the one I did. But although I never did, I am so happy for the teens of today, that they are able to experience this kind of social openness, that they can experience this kind of unity and conscientiousness that exists in a way it never did before. That, even with as bleak and awful as the world is, they are fighting to make it better for themselves. Because it really was them that changed it.

Because, as much as Millennials like to pretend otherwise, we didn’t make the internet culture what it is today, We were edgy shitlord brats who loved laughably bad media, whether it was edgy and featured protagonists who murdered for fun, or maudlin and featured Mary Sue protagonists. We had flame wars over who was “uke or seme” for characters that weren’t even gay. We were nasty piss-stains, and even the teens like me who were better than the rest still had our awful moments. I’ve done and said things as a teen that I’m ashamed of, and no amount of nostalgia can change the fact that fandom and the media it consumed was objectively awful a decade ago. And though “Fandom Moms” and other nasty, disgusting, overgrown-children may be a proud bastion and defenders of the Old Ways, reminiscing about their LiveJournal Days and telling themselves their age is somehow indicative of wisdom rather than how creepy and pathetic they really are, their days are numbered, and I can’t wait to see their +30yo asses slowly die out in the face of progress.

[the-blog-of-anger-blog]

I’m Pro-Life and tired of it being mocked so here we go

Now, I absolutely believe that it is a woman’s choice to get pregnant or not but more on that later. This is a long one, folks. Buckle in for health class.

This is not a popular opinion on tumblr and that is because people like to pretend that things are what they’ve heard repeated rather than do their own research and often that means it’s a crisis, it’s an outrage, and it’s an attack. So here’s my research to support the other pro-lifers out there.

Do I believe there are exceptions for abortion? Yes, Of course.

But the Pro-Choice movement too often uses the exceptions to justify the majority. The percentage of rapes that result in a pregnancy is 5%. 5% This is from 2 different studies.

This is not even the percentage of women who are raped who actually choose to have an abortion. In fact, the women who choose (not forced mind you, I’m not heartless) to keep their baby often recover easier and faster from the trauma as they have something good to focus on and help them heal.

So when it comes to the other 95% of women, I have problems. The natural biological consequence of sex is reproduction. The whole point of sex is to build on the relationship between partners (Oxytocin, folks, nothing like it apart from straight up dopamine) and to reproduce. 

Also, if any of your are interested, John F. Kennedy,  Victoria Woodhull, the first female candidate for president, Elizabeth Blackwell,  Elizabeth Cady Stanton, the latter being notable suffragettes, were all very anti-abortion.

“The Revolution published a piece, attributable to [Susan B.] Anthony, that said abortion was a choice that would burden both a woman’s “conscience in life and soul in death” and also ultimately an exploitation of women.” (http://time.com/4093214/suffragettes-abortion/)

Times have changed and this is a hydra of a problem so I’m not going to just say ‘abstinence is all you need’ because I’m not in charge of anyone’s sex life. People have been sleeping together out of wedlock for centuries and it’s not just going to go away. However, if we’re talking about a woman’s right to choose, why is the woman’s right to choose to have sex somehow not a factor?

 So, key issues: Contraception, Science/Biology, Inhumanity, and Responsibility.

#1 Contraception.   We need better contraceptive methods. Period. I especially promote researching better male contraceptives cause condoms are clearly not cutting it and, as spoken before, it’s a lot safer to unload a gun than to shoot at a bulletproof vest. It bothers me a great deal that people on both sides of this debate overlook that we can stand united on this front at the very least. No one should really be arguing with me on this. It’s gotta get better.

Also, better sex-education and to me, this means parents stepping up and being parents and giving the freaking Talk like the adults they are as well as discussing safe contraceptive methods. Sex-Ed classes are failing miserably with a nasty combination of misinformation and the creation of false confidence so teens believe that they know enough about what they’re doing to not worry about the consequences. (Fun fact: Planned Parenthood has actually taken over Sex-Ed program for multiple states in the North West and STDs and Pregnancy rates have been on the rise there compared to the alternative classes. These are the results of a 5 year report from the HHS Office of Adolescent Health.)

So from this, I hope it’s clear that I truly believe that women have the right to choose whether or not to be pregnant. I simply argue against abortion.

#2. Science/Biology.    When does life begin? Some say at birth, some say only if the mother wants the child. Imagine for me, if you will, that NASA discovered bacteria growing in the ice just below the Martian landscape. There would be a freak out! Why? Because it would be life on another planet! Now, you tell me that science classifies bacteria as living creatures that we can study, that we protect in several instances because of their potential to replicate vaccines and insulin... but something that has fingers, toes, a functional nervous system, and studies are going on out whether or not can dream... is only considered alive if it’s wanted by the mother? Wake up call: That’s not science. That’s strictly opinion and it’s an opinion that science refutes.

“But it’s just a glob of cells. It’s not a real person.” Have you taken a biology course? What are you made of? What are all living things made of? Cells. What are a bunch of cells called? Tissue. What do tissues make? Organs and on to organ systems and a body. You are a glob of cells. I’ll repeat that really quick. YOU ARE TECHNICALLY A GLOB OF CELLS. So, yeah. Of course that’s what you’re going to be told if you’re getting an abortion. Abortion clinics want your business. They want your money. Why else does Planned Parenthood not do ultrasounds unless you’ve agreed to have an abortion already? 

“ I worked at Planned Parenthood here in New Jersey and they don't do ultrasounds unless you are there for an abortion. They only do gynceology. Your best bet is to call and ask. “ (direct quote. Name not to be disclosed.)

“ Another issue that we ran into quite often, was when women would come in who had a legitimate problem, for example polycystic ovary syndrome, or maybe fibroids, or something like that, who we could not diagnose because there were no ultrasound technicians or any type of ultrasound other than the ultrasound that is available at the abortion facilities. “    - Ramona Trevino, Former Planned Parenthood Manager who has since joined the Pro-Life movement

So, yeah. I don’t trust or support Planned Parenthood at all let alone to define for me what life is.

Btw, 1st trimester of pregnancy ends at 12 weeks. This is a miscarried baby at 12 weeks.

Eyes, finger, toes, organs, ears, cartilage forming bones, all of these and more are present and people degrade it to “a clump of cells” making is sound like there’s no shape or form or potential to a fetus. That’s not science. That’s intentional deception.

#3 It’s entirely inhumane.   For those of you who are unaware of what each trimester level abortion is, it’s more and more horrible the more you research exactly what “ D & X or Intrauterine Cranial Decompression” means. 

The first is usually just a pill, 2 really, that essentially trigger your period x 5. There is immense bleeding, cramping, general pain and discomfort and it goes on for sometimes over a week. If you were to contact Planned Parenthood about concerns you have (which a great deal of young teen girls will do) you will be told to go to the emergency room and tell them you’re simply having a miscarriage. Meanwhile a chemical is in your body that can have bad reactions to medications you may receive to stop the bleeding. In short, as soon as you leave the clinic, Planned Parenthood is done with you until the next time you’re pregnant. The other possible option is to have the fetus sucked out of you with a vacuum, often in pieces but sometimes as one singular body.

2nd Trimester: Either a chemical solution is inserted into the amniotic sac to basically burn the fetus to death inside of you - this sometimes fails and instead triggers an early labor - before the now dead baby leaves in a miscarriage, or a doctor will basically take a mini ice cream scooper and break the baby into pieces before scooping them out. Option three involves the baby being torn into pieces and vacuumed out instead. Don’t believe me? The way they check that the procedure is done is they catalog that each part of the baby is present.There have been babies born at 16 weeks - the end of the 2nd trimester - that have since grown up.

3rd trimester - Often illegal now but some people don’t care: Chemical solution again followed by crushing the baby’s skull so it can be pulled out through the vaginal cavity often followed once again by a vacuum to get the brain matter and leftover pieces out of the uterus. If you don’t think that’s sick, you’re too far gone. This is for babies that could be born any day without this procedure. The only other case is for actual late-term miscarriages.

#4 Responsibilty.  Most abortions, as previously proved, occur due to inconvenience. Cases of medical complications or rape trauma are not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking straight-up “I just don’t want to have to deal with kids” inconvenience. Only it’s not even that. It’s “Well, yeah, I created this thing... but... You know, it’s hard maintenance, you know? Continually existing while having another life dependent on me and my ability to exist responsibly. Nah, it’s not for me. I’ll just go over here and play with my cat instead.”. It’s ridiculous. 

Perhaps you haven’t noticed this trend, but our society has been trained and hate responsibility. I know. It comes from a heck of a lot of other people’s consequences slamming into us with the force of a semi truck. It comes from schools where we’re overloaded with homework to the point where dropping out sounds nicer and nicer. It comes from growing up in a family that’s struggling financially where you might even see the example of parents choosing to shrug off the responsibility to raise their kids properly.

We hate responsibility and we fear it. So when I tell you that I know most of you who are Pro-Choice simply want to be able to sleep with whoever they want whenever they want with no consequence, it’s because you don’t want to be responsible. If you’re at that point, heck no. You should not be a parent. I don’t want to put a kid at risk with someone who clearly doesn’t want the responsibility of parenthood. That’s the whole reason people choose foster care and adoption. Because there’s a higher chance of the child being cared for. That’s sad considering the foster system is a mess.

For ladies being pressured into an abortion by your partner, ask yourself this: Do I want to stay in a relationship where my man abuses my kids? Would I stand by in a situation like that? No? If you’re being pressured into an abortion, you’re being told to sacrifice your child for their convenience. Don’t do it. Reach out for help and you will find it.  

 So here’s my advice for anyone considering abortion but who isn’t sure: Pull a Juno. Take responsibility for your actions and responsibility for your child for as long as you need to. Find a family looking to adopt - skip the Foster Care System entirely - and it’s surprisingly easy. You can literally google “looking for a family to adopt my baby” and you’ll be given dozens of options of hopeful parents willing to work with you to adopt right away. Reminder: If you find someone who wants to adopt your baby, they’re definitely going to work with you to make it happen. Your baby is at more risk of an unhappy foster home if you’re just dropping them off at the hospital with no connections.

So, there’s my blurb. I’ll write one purely on Planned Parenthood and all of the many many ways that it’s actually costing women more than other pregnancy health centers.

[cometladyicarus-blog]

Character Sheet - Dragon Age Marian Hawke

Name: Marian Revka Amell Hawke

Nickname(s): Mari, Sister, Sweetie, Daughter, Varric calls her Hawk

Codename: Hawke, Champion, Boss

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 23 at Lothering's Destruction/Ostagar

Faction: Ferelden; Templar supportive;  

Class: Apostate Mage

Weapon(s): Sword and Shield

Armor: Heavy Armor

Place of Birth: Honnleath, Ferelden

Parent(s): Malcolm Hawke (Apostate Mage) (d. 3 years before Act I), Leandra Amell Hawke (Former Noble) (d. Act II)

Sibling(s): Bethany Hawke (sister) (d. Lothering Escape), Carver Hawke (brother)

Spouse/Significant Other: Fenris “Wolfe”

Other Relatives: Uncle Gamlen Amell, Cousin Charity, Cousin Solona Amell, twin children Jayme Cullen Wolfe and Aveline Bethany Wolfe

Magic-Using Relatives: Father, Sister, Several Amell Cousins

Mentor: Father, Ser Berkley

Friends/Allies:  

Carver Hawke

Guardswoman/Captain of the Guard Aveline

Guardsmen Donnic

Varric Tethras

Merrill

Fenris

Captain Isabella

Sebastian

Grudgingly, Anders

Knight Captain Cullen Rutherford

Knight Lieutenant Thrask

Knight Templar Kerran

Warden Captain/Knight-Enchanter Solona Amell

Alignment: Neutral Good/Lawful Good, something around there, though the mages would be more inclined to think of her as Lawful Evil because she keeps sending them to the Templars as according to the law.  

Warrior/Peacekeeper: She's more inclined to use humor to defuse a situation, but when the potential fight involves something that offends her "Ferelden Peculiarities," she is more likely to be on the Warrior side of the spectrum.

Torture/Healer: She knows some healing spells, but she's not an expert at them, but even without magic she's better than most of her Company back at Ostagar, so was trying to help the makeshift infirmary by providing bandages and health poultices. If blood magic/slave trade/kidnapping is suspected to be a part of the situation, however, Hawke has had years of learning at her father's side all the bones that can be broken in a hand, and knows how to break them. If blood magic is not involved, she does have a scary looking sword she can swing around and terrorize answers out of people if just asking isn't working.

Range/Melee: Melee, sword and shield; (Inq-Era) Range Magic Staff

Rusted Knight/Greenhorn: Ostagar survivor, she went in idealistic and independent, came out of it scrambling to hold on to those she cares about and still has nightmares about. Hawke develops into a more "rusty knight" type of person as people keep coming to her with their problems they wants fixed.

Cynical/Optimist: She believes Kirkwall is a cesspool and a disaster, where no one should ever live. She does believe it is possible for conditions for mages to be improved, but that the common people will always fear magic and likely attack magic out of that fear. But Hawke is also very good at drowning her private thoughts into whatever best suits her situation at the moment. By Act II, Hawke has been "outed" for being a broody drunk in the Hanged Man once most of the group has left by Varric and Isabella.

Appearance: Default markless Hawke preset without makeup– Light grey/blue eyes, dark near-black hair that often looks like she cuts her hair with a dagger herself instead of going to someone else to keep it short, she's a little shorter than Carver who seems to tower over everyone else,

Disability(ies)/Health concerns: None

Scar(s): Various battle injuries have left scars

Tattoo(s): At certain points, she will have smeared the blood on her face into the iconic image of her wearing the mark that went into her "official" image in The Tale of the Champion's portrait of her; The blood mage tattoo was carved into her arm during the fight with Danarius and she hasn't been able to make it go away;

Accent: Ferelden, fades a bit into Kirkwall over the course of the story

Prized Personal Possession(s)*: Malcolm's Staff; (Post Act II) Her mother's note;

Pet Peeves: Her mother's blaming her for Bethany's death despite the apology after getting the will back; People always going to her for help with their problems no matter how small or big; Being reminded about "her" Templar problems; Owing debts (money or otherwise); Varric not having a nickname for her (He does, but it sounds exactly like her name); Being pulled into the Mage-Templar conflict; "Ferelden Peculiarities" as Kirkwallers would call it – slavery, a lack of personal independence to choose who one wants to be, a lacking of dogs, Andraste in the Chantry wearing armor and holding a sword, the political song and dance before getting to the point, overheating instead of always being cold;

Likes: Keeping her family and friends safe and provided for; Magic being treated as a dangerous weapon and helpful tool and then being respected as such; dogs; reading; (Act III) learning languages; dancing in the Hanged Man; Going to the Chantry for lessons on the Chant; exploring the lands outside of Kirkwall; (Inq-Era) Exploring Thedas; the trail of dead slavers between herself and Fenris; 

Dislikes: Blood magic; demons and spirits; power abuse; the fact she often actually sympathizes with Gamlen; kids being used as tools; Fereldens being abused by the Kirkwallers who are more wealthy; The stuff elves deal with and how she never quite has enough political pull or power to make the Alienage safer in general; Gamlen's asinine comments; Her mother clearly having favorites among the Hawke siblings; Her mother trying to reclaim lost glory in the name of the Amells; Being alone without someone she feels she can confide to; Being "other" in groups (Ferelden, Apostate, not Templar-hating being the major reasons); Spiders

Vice(s): Approval seeking from Leandra, though she likes approval from people in general; Validation that she's not a "bad person"; Roaring rampages of Revenge once provoked enough; Her desire to keep people she feels responsible for safe; She enjoys tweaking noble people's sensibilities of 'proper'; 

Natural Abilities: Magic, has little to no trouble learning magic and mastering it; a knack for picking up languages;  

Trained Abilities: Sword and shield combat; Using humor to defuse situations; herbalogy;  

Understand Language(s): Common; Chasind; (During Acts I and II) A smattering of Qunlat; (During Acts II and III) Learns Tevinter;

Communicable Language(s): Common; Chasind; (As of Act II) Some Tevinter; (As of Act III) Tevinter fluently

Signature Outfit: She is famous for her Champion of Kirkwall bronze segmented armor she was given after being declared Champion; In reality, she was seen, before and after becoming Champion, most often wearing medium or heavy plate armor that was less fancy until she needed her Champion gear.

Formal Attire: Champion of Kirkwall armor; As Scion of the Amell family, she wears a set of nice robes with the Amell crest, or a custom dress made to slightly resemble a hawk in pattern and some feathers to be worn in her hair

Fallen Attire: She'd be drenched in the blood of her enemies she had used in combat against them; or wearing ornate and incredibly fancy clothes [Not sure really, I mean, Hawke isn’t a Warden and wouldn’t become Tainted, and it wouldn’t be in her to become a bloodmage either, so “Fallen” is sort of a placeholder term for “if goes evil or something”]

Lazy Attire: A tunic and breeches with leather boots

Catchphrase(s)/Famous Quotes: "Hawke this, Hawke that. Why does everyone come to me?"; "Hey! I tried to fix it, they just broke it!"; "Woah, is killing them the right choice right away?"; "WHERE DID THAT BLOOD MAGE GO?"; "Eh, he deserved to die."; "It wasn't my fault!"; "I have a role. I defend Kirkwall."; "Seriously?"; [In response to something crazy] "Oh. That sounds like every day to me."; "You do realize that if they send me, things are going to bad, right?"; "I really don't have time for this."

War Cry: "For Ferelden!"; "GET OUT OF MY KIRKWALL!" "And here they come again."

Nightmare(s): Failing to save Bethany; Failing to save her mother; failing to save Carver; failing to save her friends and others who depend on her; Templars discovering she's a mage; being made Tranquil; Never regaining her mother's approval after Bethany died; The blood mage tattoo activating and turning her into a blood mage regardless of her wishes; Blood magic; The Battle of Ostagar; Her name being used in the rallying cry of mages breaking Circles everywhere; Her role in the Mage-Templar Role; The Dead blaming her; Blighted Spiders that were the first wave of Darkspawn invading Lothering and killing those who were last to flee;

Hope/Goal(s): Not being responsible for a constantly growing number of people; 

Secret(s): She doesn't realize that she places too much responsibility onto herself and she's enabled her mother into essentially holding her down into a live she's miserable in out of "duty"; She wishes she could just give everything up and turn herself over to the Templars to join a Circle; She hated the idea of being noble; Her feeling about always putting on a show of being "responsible," "kind," "respectable," and "dutiful"; She hates being the Champion of Kirkwall when it seems like the Viscount doesn't actually do much of his job by handing most of the stuff onto her; She has a weakness towards being called “pretty” and “beautiful” by people whose opinion she values, but has a hard time believing it because she’s used to people calling her sister and mother beautiful and her just “strong” or something, so when Fenris first calls her that, she freezes and flees from him;

*Story behind this/these:

Malcolm's Staff – When Hawke refused to use her magic after burning a neighbor's barn down, Bethany inherited their father's staff and used it while the Hawkes escaped Lothering. When Bethany died, Hawke carried the staff with her anyway and only used one spell after Beth's death before going to Kirkwall to disguise the staff as a walking stick for Leandra. When they arrived in Kirkwall, the staff was stashed out of Gamlen's potential reach while in his home, and then placed above the mantel in the Amell Estate with the spell removed. Everyone knows the staff is there, everyone knows Leandra married an apostate and that Templar Hawke and Serrah Hawke are the children on an apostate, but neither have touched the staff except while moving it to one residence to another. When Hawke flees Kirkwall, she takes the staff with her. She uses it during her time with the Inquisition

Leandra's note – When Hawke lost her mother to blood magic, Hawke had felt she had failed another in her family – Bethany who died, Carver who left to join the Templars because he felt he didn't have a place, their father who had died years before, and now their mother who had also died. Hawke also had a less-than-positive relationship with Leandra because of the Bethany Death Guilt Card that had been used often enough for Leandra to keep some semblance of control over her own fate – as she likely thought of it – and then Hawke's general failure to assimilate into Kirkwall noble life. Overall, Hawke had felt that she was Leandra's greatest failure since Bethany was the ideal daughter despite being a mage, and Leandra was closer to Carver as a non-mage. This letter was in an envelope filled with similar letters. Hawke keeps the letters in a pocket of her belt or robes, and flees Kirkwall with them.