#i feel so judged and like shes resenting me all the time and i keep having like fucking mental breakdowns every night

[rkivees]

Seo Hyesook, Cristina Yang, Ellis Grey and the pressure placed by society on women to become mothers

In last week's episode, Love Next Door brought a serious discussion to the forefront of the drama. In a society where women are increasingly pressured to have children due to South Korea having the lowest birth rate in the world, giving a character the space to be honest about how she feels about her place in marriage, motherhood and society was a bold and much appreciated choice so I wanted to talk a bit about it.

Does she love her husband and her son? Yes, not only does she say this in this scene, but she also says it in future scenes, but none of this makes her pain any less real or any less valid. She resented her husband, her marriage life and her son all the same because she was happy as a Diplomat and she wanted to keep that life but now she is a mother and the world is not kind to working mothers. There was this kdrama once who had doctors multiple times say they didn't like hiring women because they soon get married and become mothers and rarely come back to work. I wonder why. Even if you wanted to go back, would you go back to a hostile environment?

Women are told from an early age that they should find a good man, get married and have children. This is their role in society and if they dare to try to break out of it, they are judged and shamed.

That's why this scene made me think so much about Cristina and Ellis, two equally strong and talented characters who are faced with the decision of whether or not to have children. Cristina finishes her act in the show by not having any and she states that she doesn't hate kids, she respects them and wishes them to have parents that want them. She loves her career more and she feels complete like that.

Ellis, on the other hand, had not only one, but two daughters. One was lucky enough to have an adopted family that loved her very much. And then we have Meredith, who was well aware she was not wanted. Below we have a quote of her coming forward in Cristina's defense.

Do you know what will happen to Cristina if she has a kid that she doesn't want? It will almost kill her. Trying to pretend that she loves a kid as much as she loves surgery will almost kill her, and it'll almost kill your kid. Do you know what it's like to be raised by someone who didn't want you? I do. To know you stood in the way of your mother's career? I do. I was raised by a Cristina. My mother was a Cristina. And as the child she didn't want, I am telling you, don't do this to her because she's kind and she cares and she won't make it. The guilt of resenting her own kid will eat her alive.

We get to see Cristina's future if she had children and it's much like Seo Hyesook. They try to overcompensate (they love their kid after all) that resentment while being eaten alive by it or we get women like Ellis, a woman unhappy in her motherhood, that traumatized her daughter to a point she didn't want to be alive.

Ellis never tried to hide her unhappiness and I am not, of course, exempting her for the bad mother she was but I want you to understand that if she wasn't put in this position to begin with, we would not have a traumatized child. Society cannot be absolved of the blame for creating unfit mothers that didn't want to be mothers and children who suffer from that unfitness.

I think it's a discussion that needs to be had, especially since we're going through a time worldwide where women are losing their right to choose and we get told more and more that there's a certain place for us, barefoot in the kitchen tending to our husbands and children.

We have to talk about it, about our choices or the lack of and how our place is wherever we want to be so we won't end up in a position where we resent our lives.

[indigo]

living with other people really fucking sucks sometimes

[astropookie]

chiron observations ❤️‍🩹

TW: it’s chiron, you k what’s coming.

natal south node 9H opposition solar chiron 3H in retrograde: lesson i was meant to live, in this case about communication. later on that year, I communicated the situation -I needed help- but throughout that time I was struggling to process the information. south node 9H represents the knowledge i acquired and the lesson i had to experienced to let others know about that knowledge. retrograde shows difficulties on expressing themselves, scared of being judged, delays, etc.

solar moon conjunct natal chiron: wounds who were deeply hidden in the past, that you didn’t remember, are now in front of your eyes and you cannot stop but observe directly. injustices with your mom, resentfulness and emotions you could not hide anymore are now part of your daily routine. it’s like someone hits you with a rock and you can’t stop bleeding/crying.

syrinx (3360) aspecting chiron: it’s giving fear of rejection, literally, that’s your trauma. asteroid syrinx represents your attitude towards rejection and high expectations towards you. I have it in opposition, through my whole life I have been what others wanted me to be. I, even as a child, controlled my respiration to not disturbed others. a period of time I suffered bc I believed with all my soul I shouldn’t live bc of the high expectations, rejection, I wasn’t able to fit in the box, I tried to. it’s been a whole process, to acknowledge -of course- I don’t want and don’t have to be what others want me to be to be happy. I share this to show how you can use what you’ve struggled with and turn it into something you can master, take advantage of it for your own good: the power of chiron.

solar chiron trine natal venus: you’re experiencing what venus represents -relationships, every kind, etc.-, what you craved for a long time, but chiron it’s not gonna bring it up pretty. you’re learning through these experiences. depends on the aspect the intensity and type. in this case, it’s happening -what your natal venus craves- but you’ll learn to confront the situation -bc of the trine aspect that kinda shows the intensity chiron has-. and it’s not going to be as you wished at first… for example, my bestie went on her first date -she’s a hopeless romantic but won’t show it- but she didn’t like the guy and then she told him and that guy dated her friend, she was shocked and obviously affected but then she stood up. for a long time she struggled to make friends, in this period of time finally she got their gurls, but at the begging there were difficulties she turned out to handle really well.

chiron 6H in mars return chart could mean difficulties on your health, keeping up with a sport? routine, have a routine, you could find yourself stressed out about it. you’re starting to analyze more things.

the degree of your chiron in sr chart can tell about your attitude in front of that situation, house would indicate what type of situation you’re dealing with.

example

⤥ solar chiron 11H 17° (leo degree): after my birthday -after solar return starts- i had a “fight” with a “friend” of the group I was part of, and besides that, I was starting to not feeling it with the friend group. it was a journey of a domino effect were I opened my eyes and saw they weren’t sparkling anymore -for me-. so i decided to distance myself, to start a journey of “standing by myself”. I started to do shit by myself, focusing that energy -used on others- on me. it’s giving developed leo energy.

the aspects chiron has represents how you deal with trauma, in any type of chart.

example

⤥ trine natal lilith 7H 18° (virgo degree): continuing with the chiron mentioned before, I struggled with my friendship so I “rebelled” to the situation I wasn’t comfortable with and started to be more independent -some characteristics lilith (mean) represents-. nowadays and never I think, it has been seen as good to do what you want to do without masks. in this case, I left the group and opened my eyes about the girl I “fought”, since the beginning she had some envy attitudes towards me I couldn’t decipher. 7H also represents enemies. virgo degree it’s at it finest when I stopped and analyzed the whole situation, being picky.

i don’t want to misinform or alarm the ones who are reading this, pls don’t take this seriously, it’s an observation I made based on others experiences, this post is not a must do book.

having a lot of chiron aspects in sr it’s giving you’re gonna experience something really traumatic. I’ve seen the solar return charts of family who lost their son/brother, between the year they’ve lost him and the other year, there’s more than 4 aspects. I believe it’s bc of the trauma effect. HOWEVER, pls remember the warning I made earlier.

9H chiron opposition saturn: I have a friend who was born in another country but she stays in another but she has to come back to her natal country to maintain her nationality. she told me his older brother had to be the “dad” bc her parents go back and ford to that another country for work, this means she lacks of a stable father figure, someone who’ll be strict with her, someone who she can support herself, and authority. could be loners.

urania (30) aspecting chiron: urania represents astrology/astronomy/cosmology. in greek mythology, urania was one of the nine muses, the goddess of the topics mentioned before and of universal love and holy spirit. when’s aspecting chiron, that represents how we can grow from our suffer, how we transform that pain and traumatic event that impacted our lives. it appears this connection. astrology is used as a way of healing, of knowing themselves. introspection. feel seen and being even shocked by how accurate astrology can be and how it makes you feel understood. I LOVE YOU SO FCKING MUCH ASTROLOGY THANKYOU BC OF YOU IM ALIVE HDHKWBFND. I have that aspect 🧍‍♀️-this was on my drafts on a post called “astrology helped to heal”, should I post it?

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Hi! I'd love to hear your thoughts on Dark Gale! I feel like the concept I'm thinking about (read: gnawing at the pulp of my brain) is OK, but could be better. Any insight you have is greatly appreciated!

Hello! Thank you for asking about dark Gale! Do you have a snack and a drink? Alrighty. So.

Gale to me is a pretty dark character already. His ambition becomes obsession, and he seeks to cross boundaries he should not cross out of (well placed) anger and a deep insecurity.

On first meeting he is sweet, kind of bumbly, personable. The first thing you do to help him out is take his hand and wrench him from a portal. It’s a far cry from Astarion holding a knife to your throat, Lae’zel pointing a sword at you, Shadowheart judging you for keeping Lae’zel’s company. First meeting Wyll, he says he needs to kill a devil. You meet Karlach because you’re trusting him that she’s a devil and needs to die. All of them have some kind of violence attached to them whether that’s from being martial themselves or in Karlach’s case the huge amounts of blood you follow to get to her.

Gale? Nah. He’s just stuck. He needs help, you pull him out, he shakes your hand, assures you your kindness will be repaid. If you send him to camp instead of recruiting him then and there, he says he’ll cook for you! And what he’s done here is ingratiate himself with Tav, make himself as indespensable as possible by volunteering an essential task, and he’s offered knowledge regarding ceremorphosis.

Later in camp, you can talk to him about what’s going on and he’ll compliment you (‘you’re a good sport’ / ‘spot on’) and if he’s a little arrogant well that’s because he has the skill to back it up and he is kind and he does cook, so you forgive it. You get to the grove and if you’re a good aligned Tav you step in front of Arka’s crossbow, you save Arabella, you rescue Mirkon from the harpies. Gale approves. Alright then, he’s a pacifist? He likes kids. This is a safe guy. And you can forgive the magic item consumption because well. He’s a good guy and he wouldn’t hurt anyone and he’s useful around camp and you seem to get along well. That’s fine. It’s like a chronic illness. We can manage that.

And then he can’t keep quiet anymore. The consumption of the weave hardly has an effect now. His guilt compels him to be honest, so he gathers everyone together. He calls himself a walking shadow, he admits to being a magical prodigy and his relationship with Mystra. Alright then. He used to be far more powerful than he is now, well so was everyone. The man clearly resents Mystra for not allowing him the kind of power he felt entitled to.

He kneels in front of Tav- kneels, this powerful mage, because is is trying to get them to see- and lets them into the dark. All this time, he has been walking around with parisitic magic in his chest, dark magic, something corrupting. He’s not said a word about the danger he poses not only to the party but to a good chunk of the surrounding area.

Gale is deeply self preserving. He can be persuaded to stay after massacring the grove by saying there’s strength in them staying together, in the survival instinct. By contrast Karlach just ups and leaves. His morality is grey and it’s what makes him interesting. In the grove, if you say it sounds like he has something to confess, he pointedly asks Tav if they’re without vice or sin, and then says no. He doesn’t think they’re quite that boring. He will bend the rules or break them if needed, it doesn’t take much to nudge him onto the darker path. He is just like Astarion in that his insecurity manifests as hunger for power and control. Unlike Astarion however, Gale is a rich boy who voluntarily isolated himself, and where Astarion becomes gentler as his story goes on, Gale becomes insistent and obsessive and even possessive. He says he’s getting that crown ‘for us’ in his act 3 scene, and… no he’s not. He’s still doing it for himself, it’s just now he can tell himself it’s for something greater because he’s in love. Just like Astarion insisting that ascending will keep him AND Tav safe. No. They’re both wrong, and frankly they’re two sides of the same coin.

Nevermind his combat lines, all misconceptions about him being a pacifist are utterly shattered when he admits to Tav that it turns him on to see them post battle, sweaty and bloody. He clearly revels in it all. I don't think it'd take much for him to go seeking a fight just for the thrill of it.

And if you happen to dump him, well… he reminds Tav of the bomb in his chest. He says maybe it’s best not to shake such a vessel as himself. The threat is subtle, but it is there. Hells, if you take him to meet Astarion alone he threatens to incinerate the vampire if he uses that knife on Tav. He’s not a gentle person and he’s created this incredible persona that hides it well under layers and layers of politeness, kindness, amiable chat, a willingness to take important tasks off Tav’s hands.

This isn’t to say I don’t absolutely love the guy. He is wonderful in many, many ways, but that undercurrent of darkness runs deeper than first appears.

[yanderes-galore]

I see nothing for Demon Slayer yet so maybe a platonic concept of Tanjiro and Nezuko with their sibling Darling? They can be human or a demon like their sister, either way is fine, thank you! :)

I can do a concept with this, sure! This is mostly just me dropping small HCs and ideas like usual, hope you enjoy :) It's a bit short as I only had one big idea in mind and struggled on how to flesh it out? They're pretty docile (for the most part).

Yandere! Platonic! Tanjiro + Nezuko with Sibling! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Violence, Isolation, Murder implied, Blood, Clingy behavior, Gaslighting in one line, Smothering siblings.

Regardless on if you're human or a demon the two are incredibly protective of you.

You, Tanjiro, and Nezuko are the only surviving members of your family.

As a result you three are very close.

You've all been through enough.

It's not like your two siblings are weak, either.

Tanjiro is a Demon Slayer and Nezuko is a demon with flaming blood.

They are more than capable of protecting you, really.

As expected of the siblings they rarely leave your side.

During the day Tanjiro helps to protect you.

Meanwhile during the night Nezuko steps in to help too.

When it comes to platonic yandere siblings they primarily act isolating and protective.

They aren't cruel though.

Just... smothering.

Tanjiro is incredibly caring towards you and his sister.

He always asks about how you're doing and is very understanding if something is bothering you.

Nezuko is protective and clingy to you, often grabbing at you for affection while making small noises.

She loves you just as much as Tanjiro does and feels happy/calm when you're around.

The two do their best to help provide for you and care for you.

They even try to keep you out of trouble when they can.

Even if you can hold your own as a Slayer or demon, the two would rather keep you out of demon fights.

When you insist you can help, Tanjiro is adamant on you staying out of it and Nezuko appears very worried.

The two are hard to hate/resent.

They mean well... but that's no excuse for isolation, is it?

The two would never hurt you thankfully.

No, they mean to give you the best care they can offer as you are a trio.

It's just they tend to no allow outsiders around you and get rather violent when demons come into the picture.

Tanjiro and Nezuko are fine when someone they trust interacts with you like Inosuke and Zenitsu.

Yet there's certainly a line.

The moment someone starts thinking they can flirt with you or pry you away from them?

Then they step in.

Tanjiro is usually really calm and kind.

Although... he's still capable of anger... and that cold glare of his is a warning.

He finds it quite rude that someone can just waltz in and act such a way with his sibling.

How sleazy.

Nezuko is a similar way, the normally cute demon snarling when you show slight discomfort.

The two don't like forcing you to do things.

They want you happy as your siblings, yet they do make an effort to be the only ones you interact with half the time.

If not all the time....

The two are primarily harmless if not suffocating.

They don't usually like to use lethal force to get what they want.

They're both primarily ones for manipulation, often deciding to guilt you into listening to them as your siblings.

Lethal force is strictly deserved towards demons/people attacking you.

But most who aren't demons know better.

Your two siblings feel more like bodyguards at times.

They're overprotective and judging of those around you.

Yet if there is no issues the two go back to being your caring siblings.

It's probably a good thing these two are primarily docile as long as they have you beside them.

The last thing you need is to witness Tanjiro and Nezuko covered in the blood of... someone for daring to take you away from them.

Things only ever go downhill when the two fear they can lose you.

As I mentioned before, if you planned on running off with someone the two aren't standing for it.

In their eyes the only family and comfort you'll ever need is with them.

Why would you want to leave your only siblings anyways?

Why do you blame them for locking you away from everyone else?

They're just being good siblings!

All you need to do is relax and let them hold you... everything will be okay, won't it?

You never saw them harm anyone... it's just in your head.

They promise they'll protect and care for you as family should...

Just as long as you don't leave them for someone else.

[effloradox]

I love Taylor swift and twilight! Ur blog is perfection 💜! Do you mind doing more jasper fan fics!

thank you so much, you're so sweet 🥺

Jasper doesn't like to talk about his past. Conversions about his history are reserved for late night whispers, when it's just the two of you in the safe haven of your room. It's not something you hold against him, you can't judge him for something he did over a hundred years ago in bad faith, but you know he feels resentment for the person he used to be. You know how much he struggles with controlling his thirst, and it’s still not the easiest thing for you to deal with.

The problem with introducing a human into a house full of vampires is that it had the potentially to go fatally wrong. Control is something that all your coven take very seriously, it's the only way you can continue to exist amongst humans after all. Everyone knows that it's you and Jasper that have the hardest time controlling yourselves around blood, it’s not exactly a secret. It never fails to astound you the sheer amount of control that Carlisle exhibits on a daily basis in his job. You're getting better with controlling your urges, and you haven't relapsed for a while but introducing a clumsy human into the house felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

In a way you blame Edward. Your emotions towards your adoptive brother are complicated even on a good day, but the idea of him bringing his human girlfriend into the house for her birthday felt like a terrible idea from the offset. Part of you had hoped Alice would have some dramatic vision that would mean you could call the whole thing off but all she'd seen was an admittedly nice vision of Bella blowing out the candles on her birthday cake surrounded by all of you.

It seemed Edward had forgotten how unbelievably accident prone his new girlfriend was though. An unforgivable oversight on his part, one you'll definitely be calling him out on later. You'd turned your back on the birthday girl for a second, just to look over to where Alice and Esme were putting the finishing touches on the cake when you'd smelt it. The acrid coppery smell of blood hit your nose instantly and every fibre of your being is drawn towards it like a forbidden siren call. Your sisters had moved to your side in an instant, only partially caging you against the kitchen counter you'd been leaning on. It's hard trying to centre yourself and not give into the urges, and it's only what's taking place on the other side of the kitchen that really brings you back to yourself.

Jasper is looking much worse for wear. His senses have honed in on Bella and all of you can tell he's only seconds away from pouncing. Emmett and Edward have their arms around him in an instant, stopping him from beelining towards the injured human but it's clear he's putting up enough of a fight that they'll struggle to restrain him for a long time. You're in front of him in the time it takes Bella to blink, your hands cupping his face gently to keep his eyes on you. Edward had pushed her towards the wall as soon as he'd heard Jasper's thoughts so she's not as close as she was, meaning she only hears fragments of what you're saying to him.

"Hey, hey, Jas it's okay. It's okay. It's just a little blood. Look at me, it's okay yeah?" Your words seem to be having some effect but Bella notes that Emmett and Edward still haven't let Jasper out of their grip. Carlisle appears by her side and she's vaguely aware that he's speaking to her but her eyes are still trained on you and Jasper. Your words seem to be having some kind of effect on him and it sends a small pang through her chest that you have the ability to calm Jasper down even in the face of the strongest temptation when Edward sometime can’t even look at her as a result of his urges.

Her eyes are still trained on the two of you as Esme leads her out of the room to go and find the first aid kit. The last thing she sees is Edward and Emmett letting Jasper go as he collapses in your arms almost bonelessly. His arms wrap around your waist as his head rests on your shoulder, giving you ample chance to press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

KICTTC 5

I'm BACK helloooo! Oh my goodness friends! I have so much to tell you all! So I kinda was collar grabbed by this story so my edit of chapter 4 is SO different from what I posted here, SOOOOO I'm posting a bit of the edited Ch4 so no one misses out on plot! ahhh I've been so excited to share this all with you!!!! Transference chapter 3 is in the works as well as a secret WIP! I really wanna focus of my first two stories though so Idk when that will be up or what an update schedule might look like.

Anyways the Angst is strong, the trauma and body horror is as strong as the blasphemous tea I brew, read at your own leisure I aint yo mama lol

Stay safe, give yourself grace, take your meds, get some sun, burrow in a blanket nest, drink water and eat a snack lovelies!

~Ren

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

Dick sips his cup of coffee only to look at it betrayed when it’s bitter and cold. He has been in Bruce’s study watching the live feed of the recovery room for hours. He managed to drag himself to bed when Alfred had insisted but his dreams had been plagued with Danyal trembling on the floor, knife hilt deep in his small neck, the sight of them in the doorway had made him panic and then he was bleeding out, his breath gurgling in his throat as he died. It was an awful way to wake up and he couldn’t even go check on Danyal in person! Damian had cashed in a lot of the blackmail he’s kept on them to keep them away. While Dick was proud of his little brother’s emotional growth, seeing their youngest in person would go a long way for Dick to shake off his nightmare. He is a bat though so he will endure, especially because this involves his family, his brothers. 

As the sun started dipping below the horizon behind the curtains Tim walked into the study with two large cups filled to the top with coffee, one with a ton of sugar and cream the other plain black coffee, “Awe Timmy! You brought me coffee!” Dick snatches the plain one up with a smirk. 

Tim just grumbles at his grabby hands and relinquishes the cup. He shuffles over to the couch and pulls out his laptop to work on something- Dick isn’t sure where Tim had managed to safely carry the computer with two fresh coffees- and promptly ignores the others as they file in the next ten or so minutes. Judging by the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, sleep was hard to come by. 

Bruce is slumped into his chair watching the twins. No one breaks the silence. Dick eyes Jason from where his brother has propped himself against the wall out of the way Their father’s shoulders are tense in anger. So Talia is probably giving him the slip. He can’t help but feel resentment for the woman who keeps secrets that hurt his family. She knows that people don’t always stay dead. When Jason died, the only reason Dick had to face it, recognize that his little brother was dead was because they had his body as sure proof he had been murdered. Dick has seen many times how Bruce grieves and it’s never good. Adding in a twin? Bruce is holding himself together with sheer will power and meticulous training. Bruce might be almost impossible to read but he was the first boy to be adopted. He has more Bruce experience than anyone else in the family but Alfred. He can see the cracks. 

Turning back to the screen Dick lets out a little coo at the image. Damian is awake and is looking at Danyal like he’d disappear from under the blanket they share. The boy carefully extracts himself to use the restroom that’s tucked away in the corner. When he comes back onto the screen he is changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt Dick recognizes as his own. He also spots a change of clothes for Danyal in his arms, which he sets on the side table next to the bed before Damian goes around refilling the water pitcher and glass to be ready for use, setting fresh towels out. 

Turning his attention to the younger boy, he can see how sickly the boy is when they’re side by side to compare. His pale skin shows off the dark veins underneath, his cheeks are caving into his face, all his baby fat eaten away, dark bruises under his eyes, and with how injured he was… it’s not telling a pretty story. Dick is confident that if Danyal hadn’t dropped out of the rafters in that warehouse they’d never know he could’ve been out there. He desperately needed help even if he hadn’t realized it yet. Bruce and Dick watch Damian crawl back into bed, Danny doesn’t wake but he does turn towards where Damian has frozen owl-eyed. An arm snags the bottom edge of Damian’s shirt and like a signal the rest of his limbs follow to entwine them together. It’s very cute. With a smirk Dick takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s unlikely to truly upset Damian since it’s probably the only picture that they have of the twins together right now, but however Damian responds when he knows the picture exists will be satisfying. 

“Are we gonna get on with it or just sit in silence with our thumbs up our asses?” Jason glares, looking significantly more tense. He stares down the room while crossing his arms across his chest. 

Dick sees Bruce’s shoulders square up like he’s bracing for a physical punch instead of the verbal jab. Batman has an almost obsessive need to know everything he can about a situation, it was one of his many lessons that they as his children made into muscle memory. Knowledge made carefully crafted contingency plans that kept their family safe on and off the streets. Something to hold, to have in reserve for when they need it. To be thrown so many unknowns in the shape of a brother was unsettling them all. 

“Jason.” Dick throws him a disappointed look from where he stands by Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder to diffuse the argument that would shortly explode. “Danyal hasn’t been conscious, he hasn’t had the chance to explain anything yet, has he?” He raises his eyebrow at his brother. The family might not always reach an agreement on, well most things, but Dick knows his younger brother cares. He does. He won’t admit it but he’s here. Red Hood sticks to Crime Alley, looking after his people and- though he won’t claim them- his kids. One glance at Danyal’s wounded, still form was all it took to gain his loyalty. Red Hood liked to take his aggression out on those who disrespect his claim. Jason’s impulse to run off and hunt the monsters who could harm a child this way was poorly hidden. Dick understood the feeling so he didn’t push further.

Jason sneered at his words but didn’t bite back, just turned his impatient gaze towards Tim. “I’m sure Tim has been doing more digging than sleeping.”

Bruce inhales sharply drawing all of their attention. He’s looking at the monitor, hitting the unmute, Damian’s voice floods the room. “I simply meant you only have to tell me what has happened since we were separated… Once, here. I-We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had made the grave mistake of harming you. The family, while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.” 

Damian’s description brought a small smile to Dick’s face. Danyal’s quiet reply dimmed the edges because he sounded so young. 

The whole group shifted and was laser focused on their new family member. Dick can’t think of any way to describe this whole situation as wrong as he took in what he could see.. It had nothing to do with Danny himself, or maybe it was more accurate to say whatever made his newly claimed baby brother look like that was what was firing off all his finely honed warning bells. A glance around at the others makes it clear they’re all, for once, on the same page.

If Bruce’s glare could kill the poor monitor would’ve been smoking at this point. Danyal was clearly at the end of his rope. Dick will admit as much as it irks him Damian was right to sequester the recovery room and keep Danyal in a calm area. They watch in horror as Danyal starts to speak. He was hesitant and nervous at first but slowly gained confidence when Damian didn’t react adversely. 

The rest of them didn’t have to restrain themselves. 

  “What the actual fuck?” That’s Tim’s angry voice, Dick shutters. He sounds like he’s already started on researching his shit list by the furious tapping that comes from the couch. Drs Fenton, the Ghost Investigation Ward, and Vlad Masters can’t possibly know what is coming for them. Dick isn’t sure whether to step in when Jason sinks down into the couch next to their younger brother and they immediately start whispering between themselves. 

He decides after a long look at the twins murmuring to each other that he would rather check on Bruce. “B?” 

The man that stands firm against Gotham’s most unsavory rogues, looks back at him lost. His eyes get drawn back to his sons on the screen, “He’s so small Dick. I-” It’s rare Bruce breaks in composure and Dick’s chest squeezes. His father looks haunted. 

“We’re here for him now, B.” He says gently. There are no words he could say that can erase what is already done. 

They listen to Tim and Jason in the background while watching Damian help Danyal get out of bed. Once on his feet Danyal waves his twin away. He’s weak and shaky but they breathe a bit easier when his legs don’t give out underneath his body weight. The short walk to the bathroom door seemed to have winded him. Danyal reaches for the wall and presses into it while he pauses. And pauses. 

Damian hasn’t rushed to his side so Dick tries not to panic. He probably needs a moment to gather himself. “Do you think we need to send Alfred down?” He asks Bruce. 

“What?” Tim and Jason both looked up at him in tandem. 

“Danyal! He was- well he is- fine. But look! He’s all hunched like he can’t breathe right? Why is Damian just watching?” Dick frets wringing his hands.

Attention diverted from their plans of destruction the two leave the couch and crowd around Bruce’s desk. 

“Oh fuck!” Tim curses, roughly rolling Bruce’s chair away from the keyboard. “I don’t know how they did it but I think the feed was paused, or spliced or looped. I’m trying to override it- Ah! I got it!” 

The feed clears and they all blink at the empty room. The bathroom door is open and Danyal’s things that were by the door are gone. 

Bruce jumps out of his chair. “What were they doing right before?” 

Tim pulls up the saved file and finds the moments right before the glitch. “They’re hugging?” A few lines of code and Tim has the background volume boosted. A hushed conversation in Arabic reaches their ears. 

“Okay Danyal, I understand and will help you,” Damian studies his brother for a moment, “how can I help you best in this moment Danyal, what is it you want.” 

They watch Danyal look around at the room, fear leaking in now that he’s not focused on the boy with him. “I can’t be here. I won’t heal.”

Bruce flinches like Danyal had hit him.

They embraced, and whatever else was said was too muffled to pick up.

They watch entranced, like a bruise you can’t help but press on, as the scene plays out and ends with Danyal leaning against the wall. 

“They can’t have gotten far, the demon brat wouldn’t risk hurting his precious twin, Dickie-Bird and I can fetch the chicks that flew the nest.” Jason sighs.

Bruce’s phone rings and they all look at it with reluctance. That’s Oracle’s ringtone so it’s important. Dick swipes the device and answers with a quick, “O, we’ve got a situation, please tell me this is important.”

“Yeah it is,” Barbra agrees, “if you guys were gonna patrol why wasn’t I looped in, huh?” 

Dick exchanges a confused look with the others. “Uh no, O, we agreed no patrol tonight, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler were our covers.”

“Then why is the Batmobile headed towards the edge of town?” 

They, with years of experience fighting side by side, spring in sync for the hidden entrance and pile into the elevator to the cave to change and to track down their brothers.

~~~~~~~

Gotham was unusually muggy this evening. Bruce could feel the sweat drip down his scalp and his suit was already damp. Breath blazed through his lungs yet brought him no warmth. He had to suppress his instinct to shiver. Fear was all he could feel. It was bone chillingly familiar. Nothing like Scarecrow’s toxin yet he was still sinking deeper into glacier littered water. As Batman, Bruce has taken many hits, faced the cruel underbelly of Gotham from the shadows and had said enough. Birthed from vengeance and relentlessly courting justice, he gets back up, keeps moving, doesn’t stay down even when he probably should. No one else had managed to stand against the city’s rogues. Every night he embraces their seething rage that blistered the streets and exploded buildings. Batman turns towards danger, not away. He is the shield that protects his city's people from the impact the best he can. It’s never enough. Batman has flung himself head first into a race that had long since started. 

In the rare hours he is alone surrounded by the soft glow of the Batcomputer and the quiet rustling of sleeping bats he can admit, those first years, he had enjoyed the vicious fights. Tangoing with death each night. He was entranced, he would dance until the curtain dropped. It was a destructive cycle he couldn’t escape. As he’s aged his compulsion to run off has cooled, and it was only after the first time Dick got more than just a few bruises did he realize the true cost. Even if he couldn’t stop them, perhaps he should’ve tried harder to work with his children to ensure their safety.  A family of vigilantes was a double edged blade. His curse to bear. The curse he spread. Every night his heart is split into pieces and goes with them as they stalk their prey from within the shadows. His children amaze terrify him in how they’ve all risen to fight back the miasma that threatens to swallow Gotham whole. 

He doesn’t know Danyal, has never learned what his favorite breakfast is or seen him off to school. They have never shared late night training sessions. His youngest has never fallen asleep sequestered away in his own world working on a case and for Bruce to find him and tuck him into bed like he has with all of his children at least once. No. He was never given a chance. Danyal’s existence was hidden from him. His death was a secret Damian was manipulated into thinking he had to carry the weight alone. And people believed Batman to be some sort of legendary detective. If Bruce was less controlled he might scoff at the thought. He missed things, big and small, all the time. Most often it was his children that were affected by his carelessness, his lack of understanding. 

He knows what it is to lose a son. In death and because of his own parental ineptitude. Bruce knows what it is for his world to spin out from under his feet and to let his rage blindly guide him. Bruce risks a glance at Jason, his walking, talking, breathing miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that to the person who needed to hear it. Jason had died, it was awful, truly awful. As an adult he has never felt so lost. Jason was only a child. A brilliant, bright, life snuffed out in the cruelest way only for some universal hiccup to thrust his soul back into body and for Talia to pick him up. They’ve never talked about the Y-incision that spans his entire torso. Jason hadn’t intended for him to see it. Bruce doesn’t know who is responsible. He doesn’t know if they dare breathe another breath on Earth. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of what he’ll do if they aren’t already dead. No, the only thing he knew about it was what Jason had deliriously shared with him while sick with whooping cough. The cut may have happened but that was as far as they got. His ribs remained intact, his organs undisturbed. Bruce has to trust Jason told him the truth. Bruce hadn’t had the strength to imagine alternatives.

He has no choice now. Whatever Danyal’s journey has been, wherever he’s been. Bruce despairs that his youngest’s life journey has been too similar to Jason’s. Danny had listed off to Damian the multitude of injuries he had and Bruce just knew. Two of his sons have been dehumanized, valued as objects for other’s use, to state their curiosity. His youngest didn’t just get cut into, as despicable as that already was, no, he was awake, aware, alive as some sick fuck rooted around behind his ribs. (Half-alive. His gut rolls at the implications yet it brings none of his usual suspicions to draw his attention to what his son was hiding. Only he wasn’t hiding, not from the Wayne family. No, he had shared everything with very little prompting from Damian. Danyal was running from them) Bruce could only stare at the screen in his office in horror. How fast did his regenerative ability work to regrow his harvested organs? Did he have to break wrongly healed bones and had to hold them in place until they healed enough for him to escape or did his bones snap forcefully into place on their own-    

It’s a race against time now. Danyal is in no condition to be on the run. It would crush him to send him away but Bruce would. He can find a secure place away from him for his son if that’s what it took to make him feel safe enough to rest. Recovery needs to be his number one priority, he had been slowly relaxing with Damian yet as soon as he wasn’t disoriented he fled. What does that say about how he thinks they’ll treat him? What does it say about Bruce that Damain felt he could better protect his twin alone?

Bruce forces himself to reach for his comms and connects to the main comm line they use for patrols. “Everyone, change of plans, keep your eyes open for both boys. They fled from the cave in the Batmobile, hail the line immediately if they’re sighted, I don’t expect Robin to linger once it stops.” Bruce internally curses at himself that he didn’t think to have some sort of code for his youngest. He’s known for creating contingency plans for his contingency plans, yet he is not prepared for this. He could’ve never prepared himself for the knowledge he had not one blood son but two, twins. He couldn’t be too revealing incase someone was listening. “We’re in pursuit of the Batmobile now. Remember the boys are both League trained, Robin likely will have some tricks he’ll play.. The boy’s full capabilities are still unknown and he is heavily injured, proceed with caution, the boy is likely running on instinct, resistance is expected. We want to avoid making them feel cornered.” His tone is tight with worry, He doesn’t blame Danyal for being suspicious. He may be their father, but as far as he knows it wouldn’t be safe. Well, Bruce can’t blame either of them, they’re children, his children. He will blame their mother though. “We want them to get them home safe with no further injuries.” 

Some very distant part of him is proud of Damian for unequivocally having his brother’s back, if only they could bond over things that didn’t shave years off his life. Bruce has never been more stressed. Some day soon he’ll just have to embrace the grey that was sprouting in his black hair and give Alfred relief from helping him hide them.

“Copy that B-man! Our eyes are peeled!” Spoiler responds “I’m currently in Burnley, Orphan’s got Somerset covered and Signal is in Old Gotham! If they’re out here we’ll find them.”

“From what Oracle sent, I think I should be able to pick something up with my powers, I’ll keep trying while we move, B.” Signal pipes in.

“Thank you Signal.” Bruce is flooded with relief. He really is lucky to have them, there’s no one else he’d rather have at his back. They’ve all grown into their own. He tries not to sigh. 

Discovering the twins missing had sent them scrambling, even Jason had looked worried and tucked away his instinct to question him or to argue, his second son had simply followed them down to the cave. At this rate he may get an ulcer. He had felt panic steal his critical thinking, as he led his boys south towards where the Batmoblie was speeding away faster than they could grapple. He had to find them. Gotham isn’t safe at night and Danyal’s movements will be restricted if he deems it important not to rip his stitches. 

Moving through the air usually calmed him but tonight grappling wasn’t moving him around fast enough. Taking the Batmobile was smart of his sons, he begrudgingly had to admit, not only was it faster, the boys would be hidden inside. If Robin had driven his bike he’d have superior maneuverability even though Batman could’ve followed them faster, but if the boys had impacted something during a high speed chase to flee? They’d both be thrown. Danyal is already severely injured anything additional.. Bruce couldn’t make himself focus on that. 

His Trouble Twins probably planned it this way to slow them down. To throw them off their tracks. It was working, the boys had a 10 minute lead on their group. They’d left as soon as they had suited up but they still were too far out of reach. Away from the protective shadow of his cape. He couldn’t protect them now that they left the safety of the manor. Jason was cursing underneath him on the street racing past buildings on his bike, he was slightly ahead of Batman and Nightwing’s position in the air, on the bike next to him Tim was working with Barbara to try and get eyes on the boys. Quiet suggestions on what to look for. Shadows that move unnaturally, flashes of color there and gone, how they needed an algorithm up to analyze all of the feeds simultaneously. With the many cameras in Gotham-more than half Bruce had bought for the city to install- they wouldn’t be so hard to find. They shouldn't be so difficult to find, but Damian was particularly slippery when he put in the effort. Bruce glanced at his eldest besides him. 

Dick was one long string pulled too tight. He, of course, was still chatting happily with Barbara but his smile was strained at the edges, his movements too careful and precise. He hasn’t joked once. The possibility the man would snap increases the longer the twins are missing. It’s rare to see Dick outwardly expressing something other than the pure sunshine and patience. By the time Jason had come around he had curbed most of his bloodlust, it was a faint memory by the time Tim weaseled his way into their lives. It reminds Bruce too much of Brucie. The persona that he developed to hide from the vultures that would’ve taken everything from him as a child when tragedy struck. Before Bruce had decided to be active in Gotham’s social scene he knew it was better they underestimate poor orphaned Bruce Wayne. Brucie hid Batman, a shield to protect his family from those who would expose their secrets. He was necessary, even if Bruce felt suffocated most of the time. Was Dick hiding from him? 

He has to suppress a shutter. All his children to some degree, whether on or off the streets, have adapted to Batman’s mannerisms and habits. It was essential to survive facing the threats they do. Dick though fell more into Bruce’s habits. His eldest son, who with a smile looked after his siblings while Bruce was distracted by some crisis or another.They both often blamed themselves for things they couldn’t stop or foresee. That heavy invisible weight that sits on their shoulders because they claimed it. Bruce knows that he’s failed his children, Dick.. Dick in particular has had to step up on his behalf to smooth things over between family members. Forced to become another parent to the kids he brought home. It was never Dick’s responsibility and it’s taken time and a lot of effort but Bruce is making steps forward, trying to stop repeating the same mistakes. It was only Alfred’s guidance and help raising the boy that he excelled instead of crumbling under Bruce’s incompetence. Bruce was trying though. Even if it was hard to talk about casually, he was in therapy, it was.. Helping. He’s not putting so much of himself onto his children these days. He’s been processing his thoughts and feelings instead of bottling them inside and letting his anger rule him. 

Words though, they still escaped him on the best days. Today was shaping up into an absolutely horrible one. Bruce wanted to say something to reassure his sons that things would be okay. None sounded right. He let them choke him. If they could just find Danyal. As much as it would pain Bruce, his youngest doesn’t have to stay with them-with him. Bruce could never trap him here. He… He just wants Danyal to recover. Recover and be safe, whatever that looks like. The boy looked so small next to Damian. They’re twins and Danyal was so small on that bed next to his brother, all skin and bones, his skin stretched over his face making him look years older and the blood, oh God, it took a second but once they realized all that green was coming from inside of him, Bruce was sure they were going to be planning another funeral. The Y-shaped wound was gruesome and he had stared in shock. Another one of his children getting cut open, violated. Vivisected. He was going to mourn another child. He was going to puke. He was going to destroy those who dared to touch Danyal. A heady mix of vengeance and justice for a boy he’d never properly meet. Somehow though, the boy had stabilized. His boy, another one. He’s too old for surprise kids. Only to be spirited away by Damian behind layers and layers of traps that had made the family hesitate and then they were gone, on the run with Alfred’s careful stitches being the only thing holding Danyal together.   

What were they thinking? Why wasn’t I? Why didn’t I fight Damian harder when he locked them out of the recovery room? No…Danyal was already compromised. Damian saw this and ran from his family because he didn’t trust them to protect Danyal, didn’t trust them not to set him off. Maybe they would’ve made it worse, maybe his son was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it. Damian was saving them from an error. The boy who he had only met unconscious or through a screen, would’ve lashed out at himself again and they would’ve caused his-

“B? The Batmobile’s tracker has stopped moving on the edge of Burnside near the Craig Bridge. I can’t get a clear view.” Oracle reports 

“Hn.” He adjusts his trajectory and his sons follow suit, adjusting their positions to be out behind him in a V-shaped formation. If someone were to see them at this hour they’d see the vigilantes and would draw parallels between them and their namesakes, in normal circumstances it might bring a ghost of a smile across his face, they were a mixed bag flock. His flock. His family. He was thankful to have them at his back tonight. They’d find the boys, they had to. They still had nothing on the threat that was nipping at Danyal’s heels. If they were caught…

“Why would the Demon Brats go there?” Jason grumbles. They’re three blocks away now so Bruce has to fight his nausea down. They might have to subdue the boys if they won’t listen to reason. The idea of injuring Danyal further or obliterating any chance to build a relationship because he sees them as a threat rather than family. He has to stay firm though. He might have not been allowed in the room but between Alfred’s worried fretting and the security feed Bruce is very aware how Danyal shouldn’t be moving let alone going on the run with Damian. If Danyal would just let him explain he had options maybe he’d come back on his own.

“Hood, Red Robin, hang back and spread out. Start searching. I’d like to have our newest addition to Agent A within the hour. Nightwing with me.”

His grapple connects to the next roof and he leans into the arc so his path can wrap around the corner. Just ahead the Batmobile is stopped. The doors were open, no signs of the boys or of a struggle. Bruce knows they won’t find anything inside the Batmobile, Damian is efficient and clean in his work, but they look anyway. Bruce shares a look with his oldest and sighs. 

“Nothing in the Batmobile, Hood, Red Robin, report.” He shoots his grapple at the closest roof to get a better view of the surrounding area, Nightwing follows closely behind him. 

“Nothing that I can see.” Hood grunts.

“Nothing here either, no alerts from the cameras.” Red Robin sounds frustrated, “You don’t think they bailed in a dead zone, do you? Robin wouldn’t have him jump from a speeding vehicle, right?” 

“Hn.” Bruce refuses to acknowledge that thought. Even if it was a likely option, if they felt it necessary to throw them off to that degree. Dick is quiet next to him. He wants to say the right thing to ease his worries. Bruce has never been good at finding the right words, to reassure without false promises but will always try, “We’ll figure out what happened, Chum.”

Dick looks at him for a long moment. Bruce lets him and tries not to shutter himself away. Dick needs Bruce more than Batman right now. “Yeah,” It comes out grim, “before or after my youngest brother reopens something?” 

Bruce squeezes his son’s shoulder before turning away and shoots his grapple at the next roof. Right before he jumps he says, “We can only hope the boys are being careful and try our best to find them.”

[lavellenchanted]

prompt: fredwina + “can you just look at me? please?” 💕

“Are you insane?” Edwina hisses as she steps out into the gardens, careful to shut the doors quietly behind her in case any of the servants are still awake and downstairs. “If Lady Danbury or my mother finds you here, there will be hell to pay.”

Still playing with the handful of pebbles he had been using to throw at her window, Friedrich only lifts an eyebrow. “Then we will have to be quiet, no? But you did not leave me much choice, Schatz.”

He is still in his suit from the ball, but his waistcoat is now unbuttoned and his cravat hangs loose around his neck. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving Edwina perfect view of the hollow of his throat, and the lines of his collarbones as they meet his chest. It’s a warm night, but she feels a shiver run down her spine.

Glad of the darkness to hide her blush, she looks away and focuses on a nearby flowerpot. She’s highly aware of the fact that she is only in a nightgown and robe, and that her hair is falling loose down her back. If anyone were to see them like this, what’s left of her tattered reputation would be completely destroyed. The thought sends a ripple of resentment through her. Does he not care?

No, of course he doesn’t. She should know that by now.

She can’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice as she replies, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you have gone out of your way to avoid me this evening.”

“I have not.”

She has.

“You barely looked at me once – you will not even look at me now!” He has the gall to sound frustrated. “And every time I tried to ask you to dance you found a different partner.”

“I simply had a full dance card.”

She did not. She has not had a full dance card since last Season.

Judging by the depth of the silence behind her, he is not impressed by her lying.

“Edwina.” With a quiet start, she realises his voice is suddenly much closer; a moment later she feels the warmth of him standing right behind her, and she hates the way her insides flutter despite herself at his use of her given name. “I think I deserve to know what I have done to cause you such offence that you would rather dance with Lord Collingwood than with me.”

That was particularly spiteful on her part. Lord Collingwood is nearly in his seventies, wears the most terrible wig and has false teeth. He also, as it turns out, has both incredibly bad breath and a poor sense of timing, so her spite backfired and the quadrille she had to dance with him felt more like she was punishing herself than Friedrich.

“You mean besides throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?”

 “Liebling. What did I do? You must tell me, otherwise how I can make it right?”

There is such soft earnestness in his voice that she’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. There is no making this right, and it is downright cruel of him to pretend that there is.

“You lied to me. You toyed with me and used me, even knowing that I –” Her voice catches, and she hates herself for it because she does not want to show him any weakness, this infuriatingly golden boy who pretended to patch up her cracks while all the time he was simply prying them further open. “You have made me the fool again.”

“What? What are you talking about? I have never lied to you, Edwina, I swear it.”

“I heard your servants talking, Friedrich, at your card party last week. They were discussing your betrothal, whether you would visit Prussia and have your wedding before you return to the battlefield.”

Bringing her arms up, she wraps them around herself, remembering the cold dread that had settled in her stomach when she caught the conversation and began to understand what the footmen were talking about. The sick feeling when she realised that if Friedrich was betrothed to someone in Prussia, then that betrothal would have already taken place before she had ever met him – that he had had someone waiting for him the entire time she was getting to know him, talking with him, dancing with him.

Falling in love with him.

Last year she had learned what it was to have her heart broken. This year she had learned was it was for her heart to shatter.

“You flirted with me. You made me think – You know what was happened to me last year. And this whole time, you have had a fiancée. How is that not lying?”

“Edwina, look at me.”

Tears gather along her lashes as she shakes her head and she squeezes her eyes shut to try and keep them from falling. She cannot look at him – cannot bear to turn and see how wrong she was about the man she thought she knew. Not again.

“No.”

Suddenly she feels his fingers, warm and callused, gently gripping her chin and she catches her breath. He turns her head around so that, presumably, she is facing him.

“Can you just look at me? Please?” he whispers, so quietly she almost doesn't hear him even though there must only be scant inches between them.

She can already feel her defences crumbling, and when he whispers again, "Please," she cannot stop herself from opening her eyes.

Immediately the tears she's held back slide down her cheeks, but Friedrich wipes them away. The moonlight paints him in silver, and his face is filled with tender sorrow as he gazes down at her. One loose strand of hair falls across his forehead and even now Edwina wants to reach up and brush it back.

"Edwina, schatz," he says, very slowly and carefully. "I promise you, I am not betrothed to anyone."

What?

"But, they said -"

He cuts her off, one corner of his mouth curling in faint, exasperated amusement. "If my servants were talking about my wedding, it is because they are all fully aware of my intention to propose to you before I return home and have assumed you will accept."

Edwina thinks her heart might have stopped beating. She has definitely stopped breathing.

"They ... are?"

"I have not made a secret of how much I enjoy your company. And they could hardly fail to notice when I wrote to my mother to ask her to send my grandmother's ring."

Edwina's head is spinning as she struggles to take in this new information, and her legs feel abruptly rather weak. He had asked for his grandmother's ring? He truly meant to propose?

He has not just been playing with her all this time?

"Oh."

It's an entirely inadequate response, but words are beyond her right now. There is too much happening inside her for her to be able to speak.

"Ja." Friedrich smiles softly at her, reassuring her that he is not angry at her misunderstanding, but there is still a hint of sadness to it. "Meine Liebe, why did you not come and ask me about what you heard?"

She owes him an explanation, but it at the same time she does not know how to explain.

"I don't know - I wanted to, it's just . . ." She sighs. "I was afraid, I suppose."

"Do you still not trust me?"

"I trust you more than anyone." Which is perhaps not saying as much as she wishes, when her trust in anything is so fragile these days. "But I have been so wrong before . . . "

"It is easy to believe you would be again," Friedrich finishes for her. "I understand. But I hope that will not always be so. Just tell me now - do you believe me? That there is no one in my heart but you? Or must I offer more proof?"

A warm blush spreads across her cheeks, and it is amazing how the heart that only a few minutes ago she would sworn was broken beyond repair is now singing in her chest and making her feel as though she could fly if she chose.

Holding his gaze, she asks, "What more proof do you have to offer?"

He blinks in surprise, concern flitting briefly across his face before he slowly starts to grin.

"Only this," he says, and brings his head down to press his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft and chaste at first, a gentle stroke of his mouth against hers - once, twice; then it deepens, as he tilts her head further up to a better angle and teases her lips open with his tongue. Each movement of his mouth is slow and deliberate, like he's content to take all the time in world to make his point, and Edwina feels it through her entire body. Her blood has turned to lightning in her veins and she feels drunk on it, wanting nothing more than to press herself as close to Friedrich as possible and lose herself in his arms.

Brings her hands up, she curls her fingers into his shirt and tugs. She feels him laughing into the kiss and nips his bottom lip with her teeth in remonstration - but he finally sweeps her into his embrace and the world around them disappears, replaced by the sound of their shared breaths and the feel of his heartbeat, thundering just as hard as her own, against her breast, and glorious, blissful taste of his lips and tongue as he kisses her over and over and over.

When they finally break part she has wrapped her arms around his neck and it is only his arms around her keeping her upright. Smiling still, Friedrich gently bumps the side of her nose with his.

"Do you believe me now?"

Voice hushed, Edwina nods and answers, "Yes, I do."

"Good." He presses another soft kiss to the side of her head. "May I also take that as a yes to my proposal?"

"Proposal? I don't recall you actually asking me anything."

"I -" He stares at her for a moment, and then they both dissolve into giggles. "No, I suppose I did not. And I suppose the proper thing would be to speak with your mother first."

Edwina wrinkles her nose. "Technically. But I think we are a little way past proper."

He gives a cheerful sigh. "Well, we must still try. But if I call on you tomorrow and speak to your mother, what will your answer be?"

She smiles, and has no idea that it's the most radiant sight Friedrich's ever seen.

"It will be yes, of course," she says, and kisses him again. After all, there's no longer any reason why she can't.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirteen

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: The first part of this is pretty plot heavy. I had initially planned for this to be a part of the previous chapter because I really don't like splitting up an event that's happening into separate parts, but it would have been super duper long. I didn't want someone to have to split reading the chapter when you could do it in one sitting. Idk. That's just me. When I finish the story, I'll re-edit everything and combine specific chapters, but that won't be for a while. ANYWAYS, thank you so much to those who have been with me since the beginning and those who have joined along the way. It means a lot to me that you decided my work was worth being interested in. I live and breathe for your support.

Chapter Warnings: Corporal punishment.

The time between arriving at the Keep and being escorted to the Queen's apartments felt like you were in a dream. Your body's subconscious was controlling your limbs, pulling and contracting the muscles to work as you climbed stairs, crossed underneath red rock archways, and stood before the drawbridge of Maegor's Holdfast—the only entrance into the royal apartments.

You stole a glimpse at the twins escorting you, Aegon in the middle of them both. They seemed to have aged at the same rate, with no grey in either of their chocolate-colored hairs. Erryk, you had found out was the Prince's sworn protector since birth, and it had you speculating just how old they were.

You realized it would be necessary to decipher which twin was who, judging by how many people believed they were talking to one when speaking to the other as you walked past guards. It would likely gain the favor of both of them, and you needed all the allies you could gather in a den of vipers. Besides, you supposed they preferred to be called by the correct name.

Thinking back to the night's earlier events, you believed Daemon would be proud of you. How you fought, schemed, and plotted before you even met Queen Alicent. Seeing Ma for sentimental reasons was not your only purpose for being there. You remembered in letters past how she mentioned her network of spies went further than that of the notorious White Worm, Mysaria, and you intended to use that to your full advantage.

You knew that Madam would help you even if you had not offered a substantial flow of Gold Dragons for the rest of her life. Her anger and resentment for what the Hand and the Queen did to Lyra and one of her spies, Sara, was enough incentive along with her love.

"Open the bridge," Ser Erryk shouted, interrupting your thought. "We are on orders to escort His Grace Prince Aegon to the Queen."

The drawbridge lowered with a screeching of its metal hinges, creating a path over the moat of iron spikes that separated you from the Holdfast. Another member of the Kingsguard appeared, his white cape flowing behind him as he walked over the stalwart oak, his short dark hair blending into the night.

"I trust you brought him well, Princess," he spoke, tilting his head at the sulking Aegon and disregarding the brothers.

"Ser Criston Cole, I presume," you shot back, walking between the three men you were with. You could feel their eyes on you, but you held firm, clasping your hands behind you. "I have brought the princeling unharmed, a feat that has proven..." You stopped before him, lowering your voice as your boots scuffed the bridge, "toilsome for you. Or so I have heard."

He chuckled, briefly looking into the sconces on the stone walls, the fire reflecting in his dark irises. "I believe we can forgo the general pleasantries, Princess. I will escort you to Her Majesty once Prince Aegon is safe within his chambers."

"No. I will take him myself," you declared, leaning closer. You needed to present him yourself. Your plan hung on the dramatic appearance of Aegon, for you were afraid without it, Queen Alicent would not listen. "Given your history," you jabbed, covering the oddness of your demand.

As a smirk formed on your lips, Criston swore he saw a flash of Daemon in the darkness. The same arrogant smile he knocked off a horse and bested with his beloved flail, Morning Star. He did not want to repeat the same things he thought about your father about you. No matter your lineage, you were still a daughter of the Mother and a picture of the Maiden.

"I understand," he said, something simmering beneath his bronze skin you couldn't quite name as he motioned for the waiting siblings to bring Aegon forward.

Erryk took Aegon's arm rougher than you would have thought of someone's protector, the Prince wincing as he practically dragged him. You hoped you had hidden your displeasure at his actions as he walked past, trailing behind them.

The trip was short from there, following the Kingsguard to Alicent's apartments as the two brothers departed with a bow. You looked at Ser Criston expectantly, waiting for him to open the chamber doors.

"Please, afford Her Grace some patience. She had hoped this would be in the morn rather than at the hour of the wolf," he answered your unasked question.

You acknowledged him with a curt nod, leaning against the stone wall next to the door frame, at ease for just a moment knowing there was someone else to watch the runaway prince.

A flicker of movement caught your eye, a pristine eggshell-colored cloth extended near your face. You glanced at Ser Criston with a raised brow as he moved his hand to swipe across your jaw. You had forgotten of the blood splattered onto your skin. The remnants of how far you would go to protect Aegon, what sacrifices you were willing to make for your family.

Despite your picking, you knew Ser Cole was a fine warrior, his skills unmatched with Morning Star. You could not tolerate how he was rumored to speak about your brothers as you quickly snatched the handkerchief from his hand, cleaning your skin.

You could barely stay awake and were sure you appeared like it as you relaxed. Your eyelids slowly closed before you would snap them open again, swiftly looking around to make sure no one saw. You wanted to give Queen Alicent the courtesy of waiting. It would only be proper, as Ser Cole mentioned, but you couldn't help how your knees gradually weakened, sliding down onto the floor as you rested your head against the stone wall.

Aegon watched you fight with sleep as everyone waited for his Mother to ready herself, ever the one to keep appearances. He saw the delicate features of the girl he once knew as your body finally gave in to rest, your lashes fluttering.

He believed today was a day of old memories, seeing you in the flesh again and recalling how you looked with your cheek squished against his sweaty chest so long ago.

Had you thought of him while you were tucked away at Dragonstone? He thought of you every day. You were the only person in his life that had shown him what it was to be cherished. What it felt like to have someone enjoy his presence without any enticement. You were his only true friend, and after years without contact, he was frightened that brief friendship had slipped away.

Aegon knew you were still there and that this current persona was angry and resentful for what happened with Sara and Lyra. He saw it when you placed his grimy hands on your face, your eyes a window, showing him how much you still cared. He saw it in how you carried him while drunk, whispering words of encouragement to keep moving into the night air.

Since then, Aegon had been watching you, gradually comprehending throughout the eventide how much you had changed. Your hair had gotten longer, your ebony tresses nearly at your waist, even when braided. Your maids had woven the white streak throughout the intricate designs on your scalp. He had forgotten how divinely that birthmark contrasted the rest of your strands, a single patch of snow glimmering in the moonlight.

Throughout his observations of you, he concluded that even though you had a scowl when you saw him, your lips in a thin line of disapproval when you looked at him, you had not changed. Not really. The darling little girl he met in an alleyway at Flea Bottom was still there, hidden deep within you to protect yourself from the horrors of the past, present, and future.

He did not care how his Mother invariably said your plain-looking features matched those of your adopted siblings. How insulting it was for the House of Dragon to become a House of Bastards, she would reiterate over dinner, noticeably when the King was not there.

Aegon did not care much about what his Mother said about you and your siblings. He had no concern for propriety and appearances; in his opinion, it was all too priggish. He did not understand why she concerned herself with Rhaenyra's children. The oldest of the Strong boys still had a claim to the Iron Throne through his mother. You all still had Targaryen blood within you despite what she made it seem.

You were not sure how long it had been when a servant opened the door. It was enough for you to doze off and wake up as you saw Aegon above. It startled you, not expecting to see his violet eyes so close, but the feeling that rose as he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. They appeared sad and empathetic as they stared down.

You frowned, pushing yourself up as you smoothed your messy hair, annoyed with his proximity as he followed behind. It was as if he was your shadow as soon as you entered the Queen's meeting room, being uncharacteristically silent when he saw his Mother. Ser Criston announced you both, trying to make the informal situation formal. She sent him away with a grateful nod, leaving the room silently with just you and her son.

Aegon continued to hide behind you, his shoulders slumping and chin tucked into his chest as you turned. You wanted to reach out and extend a comforting hand but thought better, your fingers fidgeting at your sides.

He did not deserve sympathy.

"Princess," Queen Alicent broke the silence, "Thank you for returning my son to me. You have proven fit for tasks even the best men of the Kingsguard could not accomplish."

You extended a polite smile, curtsying as you thanked her as well. "Thank you, my Queen for confiding in me about your worries. It is an honor to aid the Crown in any way I can," you spoke.

"I see," she said, her lips pursed and her hands clasped as she peered around your body. "Aegon, my son, please let your dear Mother see you. I have been sick with worriment in your absence."

Aegon peeked from behind your body, looking like a scared child rather than a man of ten and nine, soon to be twenty.

"You missed me?" he asked, his voice small and soft like in his youth. She smiled, opening her arms to him as he reluctantly approached.

You watched the exchange with apprehension; your brows creased as she whispered to him words you could not hear. Aegon took a breath to say some, but before he could speak, the Queen's hand came down, smacking him across the cheek.

You stifled a gasp, covering your mouth with your palm as the urge to yank Aegon away caused you to take a step. Alicent was furious, as any parent would be, if their child had run away for such immature reasons, scolding him with trembling lips.

"Have you no conscience for your actions? You shame us deeply every hour of the day and night and know this, yet you continue to do so," she shouted, her cheeks tinting pink in anger. "I could not find you for a week! I am your Mother. How do you think this makes me feel? Not knowing where you went or what might have happened to you." You wanted to insert yourself into the conversation, to act as a buffer between Mother and Son but did not want to make things worse for Aegon.

"I had to request the help of this," Alicent paused, glancing at you before her voice lowered, "bastard in order to find you. Do you not know the embarrassment that brings me? To ask-"

Before you could think of being insulted by her words, Aegon's hunched form stood to his full height, looking down at his Mother.

"Do not call her that," Aegon snapped, speaking as a man. "She saved my life! Killed three men who had the intent to rob and beat me!" Alicent released a quiet breath of air, her features softening at the mention of her son's life in danger. "The Princess cared for me with a kindness no one has extended before. She is honorable and undeserving of the insults you spout when father is not around. She is royal not only in name but in blood. The same cannot be said for you, Mother." He spat her name out like sour candy on his tongue, his anger palpable.

You were overcome with guilt at his words. You were anything but kind after you found him. Berating Aegon with a variety of scurrilousness based on your outrage for acts he had no part in. You hated him simply because he was the kin of murderers, a show you had associated him with even though he had no role in it.

You could see the Queen becoming outraged at what he said, looking like she would strike her son again as you moved, making space between her and Aegon before she could try. He did not warrant abuse in his defense of you.

"Her Grace is not wrong, Prince Aegon," you interjected, easing the tension between the two. "I am a bastard by birth."

"The King has legitimized you; therefore, you are a princess, undeserving of her bad-mouthing," he sneered at the Queen, a petulant imp talking bad to their parent.

Your eyes grew wide as you stared at him, stunned into silence at his steadfast protection of your honor. You realized then how wrong you had been in your thinking. It wasn't right for you to blame the by-product of the people you hated. They had nothing to do with Aunt Lyra other than they were their kin.

Why had you been so callous? He did not warrant it, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself. Aegon did not deserve any of the harsh whispers people spoke. Unquestionably, he was a drunken whore of a man, uncaring of traditions and customs that he was expected to abide by, but there was more to him than the gossip. If only people had given him the opportunity. It should not have surprised those around him that Aegon became what everyone believed him to be.

"Yes, my Prince." You looked to the Queen, her features covered in shame at how she had lost her temper before you. "The King legitimized me, but it does not negate the origin of my birth. It no longer upsets me when people use it in degradation."

Aegon moved away from you and Alicent, slightly stumbling as he recoiled into himself, tear tracks on his cheeks. You wanted to embrace him, whisper in his ear how much his words truly moved you, how such a sweet boy he was, but you didn't.

"Thank you, Prince Aegon, for defending my honor so valiantly. Your actions are not something I will soon forget," you said instead, bowing your head gratefully.

Aegon did not like this side of you. It was so cold and impersonal, fitting into the shell courtly manner dictated you to be. You turned to the Queen, your expression hardening into one used when speaking to Lords and Envoys.

"Queen Alicent and I have much to discuss, my Prince," you said, looking at him with a doe-eyed expression, hoping to cater to his permissive side.

"And I am sure you are tired from your long journey back to the Keep. We will reconvene in the following days when you and I are both well-rested. After all, your name day is coming soon, and I should hope to see you at the events."

It was an intelligent way to revisit your original purpose as you saw the protests die on his peony-colored lips.

Aegon cast you one last glance of his purple glassy eyes as he left, reminding you of how your Mother's looked when you left Dragonstone. If you fell for every sad puppy look thrown your way, Luke would indeed be attached to your hip at this very moment.

The Queen stared at you in silence once he was gone, her neck so stiff and straight in the simple green gown she wore, wavy hair falling past her arms. You waited for her to speak, etiquette lessons coming to your mind.

"Please, sit, Princess. I am sure the day has been extended for you," she said, gesturing to the high-backed armchairs near her.

You instinctually wanted to protest your pride, wanting to show her it was no trouble for you, but you could not deny the ache in your feet, the pang of lower back pain that was emerging, and decided to accept.

"Words cannot convey how grateful I am for what you have done," she started, picking at her red cuticles. "I realize he can be such a difficult child, and I want you to know that my words were honest when I said your efforts will be rewarded. I will give you whatever you desire. A place at court, land, and titles to your name, gold, garnering a match more impressive than your status lets you," she trailed on. "Anything you want, Princess, name it, and it will be yours."

You already knew what you wanted. You didn't need to think. Money and matches and titles were not something you cared about. You would become a penniless spinster if it meant Rhaenyra and her true-blooded children ascended their thrones. What you sought was for them.

"The only thing I desire, my Queen," you paused, taking Alicent's attentive expression. Oh, how you would reveal in her misery once you finished. "Is a seat on the Small Council."

You watched her features fall, her once slightly upturned lips now in a deep frown as she processed your answer. Clearly, it was not something she anticipated.

"As a consequence of my Mother's years residing at Dragonstone, their has been a lack of her presence—one unbefitting for the heir to the Iron Throne. I will take her seat that has remained vacant for so long."

"Princess," the Queen stuttered, glancing at her red fingers, "your Mother's presence is already there with us in the form of the Hand. He only makes decisions with the King's and The Heir's opinions in mind."

"It must be exhausting, having to cater to two people's thoughts," you said with a front of sympathy, though you knew the truth of the matter. "Let me take the burden off his shoulders."

"A duty in which he follows deligently," she interrupted, defending her crooked father.

"Lord Hightower does have a commitment to the Crown." You did not have to say it outright for her to know why. "That is something which I have no doubt, but the lack of her royal presence is something people have taken note of," you replied, dancing around the valid reason for why you wanted on the Council, but she already knew.

"I must admit," she paused, taking a breath, "my confusion on the matter. I do not understand why Princess Rhaenyra needs someone in her place when she already has one."

You placed your elbows on your knees, resting your head in your palms as you leaned closer. Unladylike for you to do so, but you did not care. You needed her attention.

"You have a seat at the Small Council, do you not? Whose interests are your representing when you say your father already does for both?"

Alicent could not answer, the anxiety in her wide brown eyes reflecting the candlelight as you saw her pull a thin piece of skin from her fingers.

You raised a brow at her. "It certainly cannot be your own. The Queen does not have a say in matters of the realm." You couldn't stop the giggle as you continued, "Until my mother takes the throne."

She still sat silently, staring at your improper position an demands as you grew impatient. "Your Grace, you gave me your word that I could have anything I wanted. This is what I want," you said, sitting up straighter.

"Is it?" She couldn't help but ask, the words rolling off her tongue before she realized it.

Anger began to bubble inside your stomach, your neutral expression leaving your face for a scowl.

"Yes. It is," you sneered. "Does the promise of a Queen mean nothing now?" You questioned rhetorically, forgetting your place.

She inhaled deeply before she spoke again, stopping the fiddling of her fingers. "I," she paused for what felt like the tenth time, "will see to it. I owe a debt to you, and I intend to pay it."

Alicent was beside herself with fury, bested and taken advantage of again by Rhaenyra in the form of her adopted child. It seemed as if the Princess was intent on rocking the boat, even if it was not her own. Imagine if she did that, Alicent thought. She would not have been offered a seat at the table if Alicent had. She had to work silently and delicately for that treatment while Rhaenyra demanded and received it without hesitance.

The Queen's jealousy raged within as she dismissed you, further fueled by the triumphant smile on your face.

The thought that she might do what she had done to Rhaenyra on Driftmark all those years ago crossed your mind, but you brushed it off with a quiet laugh as you left, a slight bounce in your step as Ser Criston escorted you out of Maegor's Holdfast and into the Guest Wings on the Keep.

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Thank you so much for reading! This was a turning point chapter for the main character. I'm glad she finally realized it was wrong of her to lump Aegon in with his mom and grandfather. I hope she doesn't find out anything that will change that...

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @adelusionalwriter, @sunny-boy-06

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[dangerpronebuddie]

Hiiiii Maggie 💕💕💕💕

Prepare for a bunch of emojis! They are all so good!!

📋📋📋📋📋

🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

😡😡😡😡😡

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

-❤️🪐

Hiiiii Saturn! 🩷🩷🩷 Glad you're enjoying them 🥰

Clipboard Buck:

“Yeah, I know,” Buck says. “At least in theory anyway. Finding this out at thirty is… a little jarring. I mean- Buck 1.0 didn’t even get to experience this. I feel a little sad for past me.” “Do you think Buck 1.0 could’ve processed this like present Buck?” Bobby asks. “Yeah,” Chim says. “Maybe you’d resent it if you found out then.” “Maybe it happened when it needed to happen,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Hen. “Are you saying the universe had something to do with it?” Buck teases. An exploding ambulance flashes through his memory, but he resolutely ignores it for now. “I’m saying that no matter when it happened, you should love yourself. Past, present, and future Buck.” Buck smiles at him, soft sweet and disarming, and Eddie’s insides turn to goo. He can’t deny that.

Time loop fic:

“You guys have a lot in common,” Buck remarks. Maybe that’s why he likes Tommy so much. “You both like watching half-naked men pummel each other.” “Tommy’s pretty cool,” Eddie says happily. “Been a while since I met someone who can go toe-to-toe with me in Muay Thai.” “You- you guys went to… Muay Thai together?” First the fight in fucking Vegas, now this? Buck might just pass out. “Yeah, he’s got a setup in his garage,” Eddie says. “We sparred a bit.” Buck can’t get the image of that out of his mind. The both of them shirtless and glistening with sweat, showing off their skills and their muscles and- Buck forces himself to move, pushing all thoughts about that to the back of his mind. For fuck’s sake, he’s known he’s bi for maybe two days, this should not be affecting him this much! "Well listen, I- I think it's great..." Just like in his dream, he trips over his words.

The arson fic:

"The Longest Yard?" Chim asks, "seriously?" "What?" Buck frowns. "Burt Reynolds? Eddie Albert?" Chim prompts. Buck simply blinks at him like he's grown a second head. Chim sighs and waves him off. "What makes you think homemade fire bombs are behind these?” “And who would want to do something like that? It’s not exactly fool-proof,” Hen frowns. “No method ever is,” Buck comments. “And we haven’t narrowed down who yet. But didn’t you guys smell paint thinner when we were clearing the scenes?” They shake their heads. “But we only cleared the scene with the judge’s husband and we kept our masks on,” Chim says.

Communication fight:

“I didn't have to,” Eddie declared, turning to face him. “I saw your reaction to seeing her again and knew everything I needed to. I saw how you acted about her when we first met. Like your only purpose was to be of use to her.” “That's not-” “You were willing to die saving the man she left you for,” Eddie cut in. Buck paused, any defense dying on his tongue. “You fought Bobby, and you fought me, trying to justify your possible death. Like you didn't matter, Buck.” “So you would’ve lost your backup plan,” Buck huffed with a wave of his hand. “Backup plan?” Eddie spat the words out like they burned his tongue. He took a step closer, fighting the urge to grab Buck by the shoulders and shake him until he realized what Eddie truly meant by putting him in his will. “Is that what you think you are to me?” “How else am I supposed to look at that, Eddie?” Buck cried.

And a few from the doppelganger fic:

Buck keeps talking, but Eddie has officially checked out of the conversation. It's bizarre enough that Buck and Ethan were comparing Eduardo and Eddie's… assets. But the fact Buck believes Eddie's is better is doing things to Eddie’s brain. Things definitely not suitable for the workplace. “Eddie,” Buck says, and judging by his tone, not for the first time. Eddie blinks at him. “Where’d you go? Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hit your head?” “I’m fine, bud,” Eddie assures him. “I was just thinking about something.” “You thinking what I'm thinking?” Buck asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Eddie raises an eyebrow, smiling at the way Buck perks up. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging forcefully enough to achieve liftoff. “What're you thinking?” “We have to set them up,” Buck declares.

Make Me Write!

[l-e-i-n-t-h]

Me judging every character in HOTD

I read the book in 2019, and even then I was Team Black and believed many of the things depicted in the book could be propaganda or deformations cause I happen to be a historian and it's not that uncommon. I'm also 39 and no longer believe in pretty privilege. I've been in tumblr for more than 12 years and I've seen rivers of ink (or bits) flow trying to excuse or overanalyze the actions of all sorts of male characters because they happen to be played by beautiful faces. I've done it myself, but I'm too old for it now.

As a good historian I already declared my biases, so here I go with the characters:

Alicent is a bad mother. Her motherhood wasn't desired nor joyful, so it's understadable but it does affect the way her children are. Viserys was also quite neglectful, due to his health and his personal flaws. Alicent's family reeks of generational trauma, and it's not a surprise coming from such a cold and manipulative patriarch as Otto, who didn't even want to hear his daughter's troubles. As I saw in another post, all of Team Green is touch deprived: they need each other's arms but they don't hug each other as they long for.

I don't give a rat's ass about Alicent's sins. Sin away, woman, and enjoy.

I do slut shame Criston Cole cause I enjoy despising him. Being the genuine murderer he is, slut shaming is just a very small fraction of what he deserves. I see him as one of those guys that resent a girl for rejecting them and then go on to commit mass murder, blaming her for it. I'm not in love with him so I don't excuse nothing of him, specially sending ser Arryk to his death so stupidly and hypocritically.

Aegon is a bad king, who enjoys cruelty not at the level Joffrey did, but to a certain point, considering he raped a girl and celebrated his nephew's death with a feast. Another pretty face I'm immune to.

Helaena is a sweet angel. I miss Blood and Cheese tha way it happened on the book, but the result is pretty much the same.

I already talked about Otto, and we all know Larys Strong is a thousand times worst.

Aemond has always been a little psycho. He was bullied by his brother and nephews, but there's something else to a child who almost smashes the head of a boy 4 years younger than him with a rock. His scene in the brothel makes a lot of sense, and the fact that he believes Daemon is afraid of him is just... hilarious.

Speaking of Daemon, that's another pretty face that doesn't move me in the least. He's an asset for his team, probably the best warrior in the entire show, but he's also unpredictable, violent, irascible and not much of a good father or husband. Matt and Emma have chemistry, but their characters' ship doesn't give me feels, only red flags. Daemon is a walking red flag, the only maladjusted person in Team Black right now.

Team Black is family. They do touch each other. The parallel between Alicent being unable to console her child and Rhaenyra interrupting her son's teary eyed report to embrace him is sublime. Rhaenyra enjoys being a mom, loves her children dearly, and expresses it.

Rhaenyra does suffer a lot. In like ten days she loses her father, her daughter, her throne, her son, her trust in her husband, and sees a brave man off himself in front of her. I think that she is well adjusted, or at least as well as you could expect of a Targaryen in the GOT universe. She loves freely, she grieves as she needs and doesn't choke on her tears, trying to keep a facade. She hasn't become cruel yet.

Team Black's council passes the Bechdel test, and I find it so refreshing. Rhaenys and Corlys make for the perfect power couple, and the fact that Alyn and Adam of Hull are grown men gives me hope their conception wasn't a blemish on that marriage, cause in the book it was.

Rhaenys is the second most powerful asset in Team Black and she's just SO GREAT. I enjoy tremendously the way she doesn't walk on egg shells around Daemon.

Ultimately, if you're in doubt, ask yourself which team do the Starks of Winterfell support. That's all you need to know.

Disclaimer: love whatever character you want, and write whatever meta gives you feels and joy. I just think it's funny, when the episode just arrives, the tag is full of kind of what actually happened, but a few days after it, it's full of metas oozing with love for toxic male characters and eternal hate for the writers for doing murder baby wrong. A character doesn't need to be moral to be enjoyable, though I understand the appeal for having both.

Damn I was young and less asexual once, I swear XD

[wispythreads]

Me, taking a teeny tiny peak into Saccharina Frostwhip's tag out of curiosity: maybe I'll just see a teeny tiny spoiler, no harm, just a hint of the relationship between her, Ruby, and Amethar improving...

Literally the first post talking about Saccharina specifically: "Rewatching A Crown of Candy had reminded me how much I hate Saccharina."

Me: ( ･᷄ ︵･᷅ )

Granted they then went on to talk about how well-written/roleplayed this character was, how if we had followed along her storyline the whole time instead that 'of course we would be on her side' in this tension between the "reunited" family, so on and so forth (it is a good post, I am just not reblogging because the core of it of "I personally hate her but she is a good character" is pretty antithetical to how I feel, and I also disagree that she's SO focused on receiving the love of her father and half-sister that she's unable to recognize the love and acceptance she's received from her cousins and a loyal knight of the family)

I'm just over here pretty surprised that this is a supposedly large audience reception Saccharina had when A Crown of Candy was still the latest in the batch of Dimension 20 adventures? Enough so that her player got hate for it? And was a feeling so strong that it holds out even upon rewatching it?

As far as I could tell watching everything going on, EVERYONE had reasonable feelings about the situation.

The only reason she was able to survive in that orphanage, grow as strong and powerful as she was, is because even as the nuns tried to burn it out of her Saccharina held onto the fact that they were wrong, that she had a father out there who would love her and want her.

Of course she's disappointed when her attempts at being friendly and sharing camaraderie are rebuked. Of course she's hurt when, after all these years dreaming of finally having a home with the people she came from, the lineage that gave her the gifts that brought her so much joy and misery at the same time, they react coldly towards her, suspicious of her, either keeping their distance or, as is in Ruby's case, being openly hostile.

And of course they are. I truly believe that if they had met before the events of episode 9, Amethar would've swept Saccharina up into a bear hug, unabashedly giving her the love she'd always dreamed of. But he had just been stabbed in the back by his best friend of 20 years, who had also been revealed in the same moment to be the cause behind his sisters' murders. He had just lost the daughter that was most like him, that reminded him so much of his sister Rococoa. He's already made the choice that he needs to harden up, become cold, if he was going to keep Caramelinda, Ruby, and all the people who trusted them and helped them alive. He thought he knew who Calroy was, and trusted him, but he didn't. And it cost him too much. He definitely doesn't know who Saccharina is, and he can't afford to lose anyone else.

Ruby is a bit harder for me to judge, as I think there still might've been some rivalry/resentment(?) through their connections to magic and Lazuli, but I don't think she would've been anywhere near as aggressive over this revelation before losing Jet. Because she's not just dealing with the death of her sister, or even the death of her other half. She is dealing with being the reason why Jet died, at least in her own mind. Jet, for once in her life, showed hesitance in acting bold and brash, didn't want to follow up on the letter on their own. Ruby, who usually is the one following Jet's lead, took the reigns, and now one of them is dead. She only lived because she ran away and left her sister behind to die. And now the universe turns around, says, 'Surprise! You've got a new sister now, and she's bursting at the seams with magic,'?

Both of these characters wear their hearts on their sleeves, and as great as they are with their strengths, they've already shown they can be terribly immature as one of their faults. These things are not Saccharina's fault, but it is what they're dealing with and end up projecting onto her while literally everyone else in the party openly accepts Saccharina into the group, and she accepts them into her found family of marauders in turn.

Saccharina notes how the former king, queen, and bastard princess reacted towards her, and what is her immediate response? "Ok. They don't love me. They don't even like me. Maybe I can try to avoid them hating me by at least being useful. By at least not being an inconvenience."

And that is what she sticks by while talking to them for so long, occasionally throwing out a line to test if maybe they could still end up liking her, that she could still have that family she's always dreamed of, only to hit their walls and instantly reel back to at least being useful, without really knowing why the wall is even there. She tells them she's disappointed, of what she had hoped for, but not in a tone blaming them, angry at them, its almost as if she can't help letting it slip out through her diplomacy as she appends it again and again with her hopes she can at least be useful. She tries over and over to make it clear that she only sees the throne as a tool, one that she doesn't really want but one that she needs, and at the same time tries to offer herself to the Rocks family as the same thing. A tool that can be at least needed, if not wanted.

The rest of her hurt? She confides to her found family. And even then, as she voices to the marauders about her frustration that the Rocks don't want her, that she doesn't know why she keeps trying and that maybe it'd be best if she just stopped and accepted it, she can't stop, she keeps trying to appeal to them through her actions.

And, again, she doesn't know how deep their own hurt goes, how horrific the road their open hearts had led them down and why now, of all times, they've closed themselves off. She sees loss, and is confounded because loss is where she started as young as five years old. And yet she still doesn't treat them any differently. She's finally snapped and let the amount of hurt she's felt finally show to both Amethar and Ruby now, but she still shows them trust, and support, and is willing to lean on the people they brought with them just as much if not even more so than her own people. Her sharp-sounding formality is not how she wants to address them, because deep down she is as open hearted as the rest of the Rocks. It is a mirror she is reflecting as she tries to come to terms with the fact that her dream can't be reality, as much as the child within her still longs for and reaches towards it.

Knowing all that, watching how clear they make her feelings regarding everything and how carefully she's trying to maneuver through the world she's found herself in, how much she's trying to prove that she can at least be a good asset, I'm still just... really gobsmacked that a large number of people look to her and hate her.

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part XIII

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 13: (2,2k words)

When he wakes up, he needs a moment to orient himself.

He’s gasping for air, the smell of smoke in his nose and the feeling of flames licking his skin so clear in his mind that his eyes cannot grasp how he can be enveloped in darkness.

It was a dream, he realizes belatedly, cold sweat running down his back as he tries to calm down. A really bad dream.

But it keeps haunting him and he closes his eyes, hands dug into his sheets to ground himself, as he tries to reconstruct his dream.

He’d been in a building, younger, much younger than he is now, because the doorways looked taller, as if he’d shrunk a good bit.

The building had been cold and quiet, empty of noise and people. No one to see him, no one to judge him.

He’d let fire form in his right hand first, throwing it down a long hallway like he was playing ball with himself.

And as if a floodgate had opened, fire had poured from his hands until the hallway was burning, the doorways now holes in a pit of fire.

He’d taken a breath, felt relieved and anxious, angry and overwhelmed, all of the emotions his body was capable of, all at the same time.

Until he heard the scream.

After that, the dream had been a jumble of thoughts and pictures.

Had he gone up the stairs or down? Every hallway looked the same but there was another scream, choking sobs of someone who was there with him, in the fire.

He was supposed to be alone!

And then, hidden in the corner of a room, an open window feeding the flames with oxygen, was a girl, curling into herself.

Her shirt had caught fire when he reached her, so completely unprepared to save someone from a fire. All he knew was how to start one.

Touya’s eyes fling open again, bile crawling up his throat. He barely makes it to the trash can before he has to throw up, heaving uncontrollably.

Is this still a dream or does he remember correctly? Is his mind playing tricks on him? It must be like that.

He’s shaking by the time he crawls back into bed, trying to reconstruct his days as Dabi. Back when he was hungry and alone, debating on what to do next. 

He’d been so cold back then - but no, that wasn’t what he wanted to think about.

-

He doesn’t go to work that day. 

His mother buys into his story about having an upset stomach - the trash can is proof enough. You text him something encouraging and a silly picture of a cartoon cat caring for a sick cartoon mouse.

He feels like that. Like the mouse that’s going to be eaten soon.

His past is at his neck now, fangs bared.

-

“Hey.” Shouto knocks at his door, “Do you wanna have dinner with us?”

“No, thank you.”

The door opens and he groans, buried under his blankets. “Just leave me alone.”

Shouto doesn’t listen but takes a place on the bed instead.

“Are you nervous about the hearing next week?”

“No. If we get lucky they’ll just lock me up.” The words slip out of him, as bitter as the bile he’d choked up that morning.

“Why would that make us lucky?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Because I’m a danger to society and deserve to be locked up.”

“Did you do something bad those last days?”

“Don’t have to. Already did enough for a lifetime.”

Shouto hums thoughtfully.

“What do you think your boss is going to say about you? At the hearing, I mean?”

Tears prick at his eyes and coat his voice.

“I don’t know. Just… I hope she says that I’m awful.”

A heavy weight drops onto him. Shouto curls around him like an oversized cat.

“What are you doing?” Touya chokes out as his younger brother tries to half-hug him.

“Most people like being touched when they’re sad. You seem sad.”

“God, you’re such an idiot.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No…” The word comes out quietly but Shouto must have heard it because he stays.

-

“Good morning.” You’re all smiles and sugar-sweet voice and he’s glad he hasn’t had breakfast yet, because the sight of you might have him vomiting again.

He closes the door of the greenhouse slowly, trying to forget how the apartment house next door looks finished already.

He’s never going to see the new shop. Never going to see you stand behind the new counter, or tend to your plants upstairs in your new apartment.

In an hour or so you’ll have to go for the official meeting with the judge, his rehabilitation officer, and all the other official people that will decide what to do with him.

Even if it feels impossible, he can’t let you close the shop for that, not when he’s still employed.

Also, you deserve to make an informed decision. To speak on his behalf knowing all of the truth, not just half.

“I need to tell you something.” Touya says, his voice wobbly. “About that fire you were in.”

“Are you sure you’re fine already?” You ask, stepping closer. “You’re really pale. I asked Rico if he could come and cover your shift while I was out. You should go back to bed and rest-”

“I set the fire.” He interrupts you, stepping back when you’re just about to touch him, probably to feel his temperature.

“What?” You ask, confusion visible on your face.

“I set the fire. At that school in Jinbocho.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I set that fire. I was in there and set the fire and I thought I was alone but I heard you scream and I couldn’t- I didn’t know how to save you properly.” He’s breathing hard now, panic already crawling up his gut. He’s going to vomit again, knows it even before the bile starts creeping up his throat.

The sweet tingle of a bell pulls him out of his frenzy and he turns to see Rico standing in the door, almost too broad to fit through.

“Oh, you’re fit again?”

“Can you take care of the shop for a second?” You ask before Touya can get a word in. “Touya and I need a minute.”

“Oh, sure.” Rico steps aside, a concerned look on his face as he takes in Touya’s face.

“You should rest, man. You don’t look too good.”

Your hand is curled around his hand - he doesn’t know when that happened - and you’re pulling him out of the greenhouse, down the street to the park. 

He’s trying very hard to breathe, shivers racking through his body as he keeps moving without really thinking about it, just walking after you until you reach the blissfully empty park, the tracks muddy from last night's rain.

There’s a little building, just a roof, and three walls, but you direct him there, pulling him into the safety of it.

-

“Touya.” You say. “Talk to me.”

That pulls him out of his stupor and he pulls away from you and your too-soft touch.

“I think I told you everything you need to know.”

“Did you really?” You ask and he blinks.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I did. But I’m wondering why you told me.”

“Because you need to know, obviously. Your opinion of me has a major impact on the hearing.”

“The hearing…” You pinch your brows and he stares at them, dread filling his chest at the thought that this might be the last time he sees you do that.

“Touya, can I touch you?” You ask, your voice calm and quiet, barely a whisper.

“Why would you?” He asks and you cock your head to keep eye contact.

“Can I?”

He shrugs and your hands are on his now, unfolding them gently. There are red marks, half-moon shaped, from his fingernails digging into the skin.

“I already knew that you did it.” You say. “Or at least I had a hunch. Your father would have been too big but you’re my age. I knew it had to be you, even if you didn’t remember it.”

His mouth is dry as he speaks. The words come out croaked, oddly misshapen.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks. You shrug.

“All I ever wanted was to know if my life measured up to what my savior wanted for me. If I had made myself worth saving. I guess… I guess I realized that that didn’t matter. That I wasn’t saved for a reason. I was just saved.”

Something wet is running down his face and he touches it, surprised to see the clear liquid on his hands.

“You’re crying.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Didn’t know I could do that.” He rasps and chokes out a laugh, the sound so wrong at this moment. It breaks whatever shelter you created around him and he pulls away again, taking one step and then another.

“You will tell them at the hearing, okay?” He says, trying to get the words out before they fail him again. “That I did that. And I won’t bother you again.”

He turns to leave but stops in his tracks.

Directly in front of him grows a bush of peonies, the buds not open yet.

“I thought you loved me.” You say, exhaustion lacing your voice. “Why are you leaving now?”

“I set that fire!” He repeats, louder now, turning back to you again. “I set that fire! Don’t you understand?”

“I understand. I think you’re the one not understanding.” You raise your hands as if asking him to hold them.

“When you got accepted into the rehabilitation program, there was nothing left to forgive you. That’s what the judge is for. To decide if you deserve a new start. Who am I to declare them wrong?”

“But I did that to you!”

You grab his hands, hold them tight, and look straight into his eyes.

“Touya.” You say, your voice firm. “You did not go in there to burn me. But when you realized what you did, you saved me. Yes, you did a lot of bad things, but when you realized what you did, you did your best to save us all. That has to count for something. I forgive you. The system has forgiven you. What you need to do, is to forgive yourself.”

“But I-” He starts, unable to speak. Words are so hard to come by, and he doesn’t know the ones that would help him explain how he feels.

“Touya.” Your grip is firm. “You cannot undo what you were or what you did. You will be reminded of that all your life. But you’ve got another chance because you are able to change. Think about that.”

He’s quiet for a long time, trying to swallow what’s clogging his throat.

Your phone plays a little alarm tone and you sigh heavily.

“I have to go now. Touya, I usually don’t tell what I’m going to say, but I’ll tell you. I will say that you have proven yourself. Not because of your talent or your inability to hide your feelings. But you’ve shown that you care. You care for me and the plants, but also for our customers, your family, for Toga. You feel guilty for what you did and that guilt will follow you your whole life, but if you manage to let it settle, to live with it, you will live a life worth living.

He stays quiet and you get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead.

“The door stays open.” You whisper before you leave. 

-

He doesn’t come in the day after. Or the day after that.

He knows his family is worried, tiptoeing around his room and leaving food by his bed.

He’s refusing to speak and only Shouto is brave enough to climb into his bed in the evening, to curl around him like a cat.

But Shouto doesn’t speak either, so that’s okay.

On Friday he manages to get out of bed by four, to shower and comb haphazardly through his hair, knowing that his clothes look more like pajamas than anything else. He might have missed half a week of work but he won’t miss therapy. Even though he still doesn’t know what he’s going to tell his therapist.

Shouto’s at the door when he slips his shoes on, wordlessly grabbing the keys.

Touya avoids everyone’s eyes but there’s a heavy hand on his shoulder that can only belong to his father, pressing the sore muscle there, helping him into his jacket.

Natsuo presses his gloves into his hands, and takes them back without a word when Touya refuses to accept them. They were a gift from you and he can’t bear wearing them now.

Fuyumi is quick to hand him hers and he hates the glint of their piercings burning his eyes. No matter how much he rubs them, the tears won’t stop. 

His mother’s there too, closing the buttons of his jacket for him as if he’s four years old again.

He hates his family for being there, being quiet when he can’t stand the sound of words, and accepting him even in his most broken state.

He wants to break apart and cry, right here in the entranceway, but Shouto’s hand is firm around his wrist, nodding toward the door.

Yeah. He still has therapy to get through first.

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My Kofi if you want to tip me

[t1ts-4-scattorcio]

Can you do a "being nat's sister" hc? Like she went with nat to nationals. (Post crash stuff too)

Sister Nat x Reader:

This was long

TW: Abuse + Substance Issues

Both you and Nat were accident babies but especially you. Her parents had settled with Nat but then you were born.

Nat had a hard time warming up to you. She was only around kids at school and was naturally a loner she didn't have that many friends at an early age so a new baby in her space was weird for sure

She liked her personal space and would side-eye you whenever you wanted her attention especially if it was by making a mess. "God you're so gross" she'd comment eyebrows raising in disgust observing you drool all over yourself on the dining room table. (like Nat girly pop shes a baby 😒 babies gonna be icky and loud).

But she saw how badly your parents resented you for taking up more of their time and money it actually was upsetting for her. Nat vowed to be your #1 protector the day your dad first yelled at you for being upset.

It was a bad day, you just couldn't stop crying and no one knew why. "Fuck she won't shut up! The brat's giving me a headache!" slamming his beer on the countertop turning to your mother who was at her wits end rocking you back and forth the entire afternoon. Nat locked herself in her room tuning out whatever was happening outside until she heard something break and your screaming getting worse

she burst into the kitchen and saw your dad get in your flushed face screeching in your highchair and of course, your mom didn't do anything but sob. Nat pushed him away and stood her ground, he gave her one of the worst beatings of her life but it was worth it to keep you safe.

That was the first night she let you sleep in her bed, and let you sleep with her until you were comfortable enough to be alone

Nat took the brunt of the abuse over the years because she didn't want to expose you to how bad your parents could treat you. She'd force you to stay in her room whenever confrontations happened or walk you to the local park and let you play for a while forget about your troubles, she would even teach you a little bit of soccer if you wanted to.

Doesn't want you around alcohol or drugs (she's a hypocrite I know) but she wanted better for you, she wanted you to succeed to be able to leave and make something out of yourself not feel stuck, and have the same shit (untrue) reputation she had.

Which meant she'd be on your ass at parties, "what are you doing?🤨” shoving your solo cup behind you "nothing.. 😀" nat jeered at you as you swayed back and forth sooo out of it. “You smell like vodka hand it over😡” you rolled your eyes and told her she's no fun but she brushed it off.

Absolute garbage at regular school work but is great with helping you make art projects and anything creative. She definitely asked Lottie or Tai to help you with any classes you were failing.

Will back you up and support anything you do, any performances or recitals you have, she will be there in the first row, she will skip practice to watch you play the sport you're in, stay's up late at night just to help you prepare for presentations

any spare money would go to taking care of you and whatever you needed whether that's school supplies or any new clothes. Your mom insisted Nat give you her hand-me-downs but Nat refused, she wanted you to find your own style.

You weren't home when your dad died, your mom was inconsolable and Nat completely shut herself off, you took care of her for a while and never blamed her for what happened to your dad. (something you had to constantly remind her of).

She's grateful you never judged her, just wanting to keep her safe like she did to you.

____

Silly sibling things:

Will kill you if you don't let her sleep in late

Interrogates any person you like or want to be in a relationship with. "I will kill you if you hurt them ☺️” all smiley while your S/O is shitting their pants.

Constantly reminds you to be responsible with your S/O. “Y/N don’t do anything stupid, and don't get pregnant. "GOD NAT I WONT 🤬."

Stealing each other's stuff but not fessing up to it or saying it looks better on your or her, (y'all never mean it).

The rest of the team also were your designated sisters, they would help you when nat couldn't.

ghosts you sometimes, she doesn't mean to she has garbage memory and a sense of "what was I gonna do again? syndrome" (which is why the other girls help you out)

You call her out about liking guys esp Travis "you're a girl kisser, you're all goo goo eyed whenever Lot's is around" cue to her stomping her cigarette out and walking away all huffy.

Lottie strut’s up “y/n why did Nat do that??" "she's in love with you Lots 😏" she looks at you like you grew a third head, "HUH" "nevermind 🙃" clueless gf’s for real.

----

You were her top priority before the crash and especially after it.

Nat had invited you to the trip for support and you were so excited everything was so luxurious. You plopped down next to Nat listening to music with her, dozing off to sleep until you woke up on the floor still attached to your broken seat.

She was terrified when she got out of the plane and couldn't find you, her brain conjuring your death. The worst thing that could happen to you coming true (you being gone would kill her.)

She found you heaving in Lottie's arms, she thanked whatever was listening to her hopes and prayers that you survived.

she never let you go or left your side once for the first few days in the woods, and is the only person that can comfort you when you're about to break down "listen to me everything's going to be ok! You know I'm never wrong."

you'd revert to sleeping with her like when you were a baby, being nervous to ask if you could though "of course you can, you could never annoy me, get in"

She'd ask if you wanted to come to hunt with her whether you could shoot the gun or not she loved your company and liked knowing you're safe.

you both would check in on each other especially when things got really bad (the snackie incident, not finding javi, shauna's traumatic birth).

You'd also back her up when she's calling out Lottie's "Voodoo Bullshit." (even if you believed it👀).

Best 👏🏽Sister 👏🏽Ever

[acti-veg]

I can’t help to see my friends differently after becoming vegan. We are all very far left borderline communist, we could go on endless conversation about topic like black life matter, LGBTQ rights and feminism all with full support.

We would make fun of conservatives for there stupid and incoherent arguments and ideas. But when it comes to veganism and animal liberation I suddenly will get the same conservative almost religious reason thrown back at me on why it’s ok to exploit animals.

I felt very hurt when one of my friend just straight up said she don’t care about any harm done towards farm animals. She went on to say that she care more about saving a 1.5 dollar on milk than do oat milk. I can’t believe she think that a cow is not even worth 1.5 dollars to her. That kind of blatant speciesism leaves me so disappointed and frankly disgusted in her

They should know better shouldn’t they? Makes me wonder if they truly believe what there preaching. I still love my friend and it’s the best friend group I have had and am not thinking of leaving but I will purposely try to avoid the vegan topic holding my tongue on my true opinion. But I can’t help tho to feel a sense of betrayal and disappointment, I feel am starting to grow a kind of resentment toward them and it make me feel bad. I guess am asking how to deal with feeling like this? Am I just being mean and selfish for feeling like this?

This is something that every one of us can relate to, and you’re completely justified in your feelings here. You’re not mean or selfish, it’s a natural, exasperated and angry response to the people around you supporting injustice.

I’d just say that it is important to remember that there is enormous social pressure and vast propaganda apparatus in place to keep people eating animals. It is unique among all forms of oppression because it is quite so socially accepted and almost ubiquitous in most communities. Those years of habit forming, conditioning and belief reinforcement takes time, effort and a great deal of introspection to unravel.

It is likely your friend is does care, she just doesn’t show that care in her behaviour. It is easier for her to just pretend she doesn’t care because she knows there is no responding to that for you, and no reckoning with her own values and how her behaviour does not align with them for her. True apathy or amorality are extremely rare, for most people this is just a defence mechanism, albeit a horribly selfish one.

Keep advocating for animals, keep being honest about your opinion, but try not to let it sour your relationship with those you love. The longer you have been vegan the harder it is to understand how other people aren’t, but try to remember what it was like for you, the excuses you made and what it took to get you where you are now. The most important thing is that your friend knows that if she decided to reduce or elongate her consumption of animals, you wouldn’t judge and you’d be there to help her out.

[ninelivesastrology]

Single non-BIWOC who can't decenter men are so quick to tell you to break up with your boyfriend/husband because misery loves company. They know the rules are different for BIWOC because of perceived desirability/value.

They're so quick to say you're being used or that your partner doesn't love you when they're still playing Casting Couch on the first date and they're almost 40. No shade, I wouldn't care otherwise, but I've been judged by them, too.

tw: misogynoir, toxic friendships, ED, body dysmorphia, racial politics, astrologizing negative things, dogwhistling, racial fetishization, infidelity, fatphobia, anti-Blackness

They tell you to leave your partner because in my case, it would boost their self-esteem that I'm a BIWOC single mother. Whole time, their mom is a single mother. But this is the shit that insecure women wish on other women, they want the cycle to repeat, for someone's child to be as lost and miserable as they are. Damn, "fuck them kids," I guess.

I hate to test my friendships like that, but as I get older, the more I lose my non-BIWOC friends. Like if they're not (fully) Black or Indigenous, they're not safe for me because they need to unlearn and the truth is, they may never unlearn. That's not my problem.

The dating climate is shit anyway. It's been poisoned by incel rhetoric.

And it's not me, it's them. I tried to figure out what it is astrologically and to be honest, I have a very good idea. I think it's really compelling that women feel threatened by my appearance. Sometimes I feel like with my Venus in the 1H, I'm just a magnet for women who were attacked in some way or form by physical misogyny, such as being the "fat friend"—Mind you, early 2000s gave us all restrictive EDs—or being the "ugly friend" or being the "invisible friend" because you're friends with the popular girl or the "poor friend" or the "cheated on friend," then they enter this cycle where they need to feel superior to the people they're friends with in adulthood. Years of internalized misogyny.

But it's so different when you're BIWOC and especially different being categorized into those friendship hierarchies has a lot to do with being BIWOC and desirability politics. It's really sick. I have noticed a pattern of non-BIWOC starting friendships with me and it's all about them using me to feel better about themselves, but then they feel like I can have whoever I want over my looks and they're angry about it. Instead of me fulfilling the stereotype that I'm jealous of them, they're jealous of me. Every stereotype is really a projection.

I wasn't really socialized to define myself by my looks either, the body dysmorphia was rampant for years. At one point, I was the "ugly friend."

I just think back to that one Tiktoker that pissed everyone off, the one that said, "Yet every morning, you're looking at yourself in your full length IKEA mirror going, 'You're so hot, you're the prettiest girl in the world.' Okay, and? And even if that were true and let's be honest—*doubtful and shady white girl expression*—Who cares? Spell "Pharaoh." Tell me what the FTC does..." Yeah, she kind of cooked, because she was right, who cares? She subtly called out the people who use empty affirmations over their physical appearance to quell insecurity. I'm still crying, why was the spelling bee word pharaoh?

I think it's very important to mention age is a deeper part of this because the older certain types of women get, the more resentful they become and they need to take out their anger on someone. I wasn't socialized to date, let alone care about doing shit before a certain age. My face is not going to melt at 30.

And while men preach about women "hitting the wall" at 25, 22, 19 (the age is getting lower and lower, goal posts keep moving), that is not my problem. That is an entirely different problem that justifies harm towards a very impressional and powerless group of people.

Women are competing with teens for men in their age group. These are not men I would personally let near me with a 50 ft pole, but because women have been socialized to compete, they're falling for it. I 100% bet 7/10 30-40 year old men have their dating ranges from 18-29 and that 29 is GENEROUS.

The women were socialized to believe they would be married at 25 by the man of their dreams who lets them run their credit card up and lets them act like a baby who needs to be taken care of. It doesn't matter if they know how to cook or clean or not because the results are mixed for me. Usually the ones that can't cook or clean are looking for a replacement father figure. The ones that cook and clean have this conviction that it will keep their man. I don't know what to say besides "decenter men."

When they see a BIWOC woman with their boyfriend, husband, fiance and they have a kid, whether married or not, it eats them up, man.

Women look at my husband different because my husband is a dad. I got the Evil Eye on the train by a white woman because my husband was playing with our dumpling.

Can't gaslight me and tell me it's not because... My husband told me this story about his egg donor's friend having a meltdown at his egg donor's birthday party because her ex husband was there with a Black woman. My husband said based off this, he should've known that Xanny the Nanny would treat me the way she did (like a side-bitch to her man whole time she's playing the role of a side-bitch).

There are expectations non-BIWOC have for their lives and when they don't get their happy ending before a certain age, they lay ruin to everyone else's relationship.

And you know what's absolutely damning about 70% of the non-BIWOC friends I've had in the past 6 years? At one point or another, they've rubbed in it in my face about how Black men want them. Who knows if they're telling the truth? But it's a dogwhistle. It's like, "I can have access to your men anytime I want," and a threat because if I was with a Black man or because they think I want Black men, they'd want me to be paranoid. Oooh, scary, steal your man!!!! Jungle fever!!!

But this is the truth that's projected onto us.

Deep down, non-BIWOC women fear having their men stolen by BIWOC. They fear the light or dark BIWOC that has the privilege of desirability across all races. To some people, we're all the same.

I argue that men are men, but I have a track record of Asian, Black, white, Mixed, Latino men approaching me. White women, Latina women, but I never really got into the wlw scene, I was too pussy to go to a gay bar.

This is the consequence of painting master-slave relationships as forbidden romances and Pocahontas' trafficking as a love story. Every fucking BIWOC dating outside her race is smeared as a raceplayer who hates themselves. And there's a bunch of women lined up to make them hate themselves. Chaos is a fucking ladder and that's the racial hierarchy. And it's usually not even white women unless they have some really shitty self-esteem issue, usually revolving around their weight. The skinny white girls never breathe down my neck, but the big white girls have been my biggest bullies because they're lower in their own hierarchy.

And I don't hate non-BIWOC, I'm really indifferent towards them until they start trying to humble me and make me hate myself and compare myself to them. I wanna look like me, not you. 🤣 What a projection.