#like I not everybody can take it and I get literally angry in their behalf because you never know how they could feel

[will80sbyers]

people are being excessively mean to others for clout on places like tiktok and twitter in instances where there is literally no reason to respond in a mean way and I don't think I will ever get it like is it that they need likes for validation because they feel extremely lonely in real life because real life connections with people are rare and the pandemic made things worse and so ganging up on people online with others makes them feel like they are part of something even if that something is negative and is possibly bringing another person to experience extremely negative feelings about themselves or are all these people just a bunch of coward assholes

[saylor-twift]

alright, so first off. This is my first time doing a req to a creator/author/writer I admire so much so hopefully I won't cause any confusion— ">-< but could you uhh do a wanderer x reader unrequited love? (eg: wanderer prefers someone over reader) I really want more angst to read and also with this topic. You don't have to take this request if you're not comfortable!

(❄️. SHON)

Yes yes I can!! This is such a coincidence cause I just recently made a very similar request to one of my mutuals haha. Recently I’ve lowkey had this brain rot of Wanderer having feelings for the traveler (Lumine) because i’ve been reading so much Scaralumi lmfao and it lowkey makes me kinda salty even tho i love them to death so that’s kinda the direction this will take :) Thanks so much for asking!!

side note: I’m so fking angry i literally had this whole thing proofread and totally ready like an hour and a half ago when my tumblr fucking shuts down and deletes all my work and I had already deleted it off the google doc so I could paste the version from tumblr so i had to go restore the google doc and ughhh it caused me an extra hour of work cause i had to proofread everything again. anyways, please enjoy :)

Live is to Love, as Love is to Hurt

word count: 6801

also heads up for anyone who doesn’t know, I like to refer to Wanderer as Kunimitsu cause that’s the name I gave him :)

Everyone knows, or should know at least, that when one decides to accept something, anything, that they are also agreeing to take on each and every single thing that comes with it. To look forward to the rebirth of spring means also accepting that the barren, frosty breath of winter will indeed return, turning the once lush gardens of the world into sharp, jagged blades of grass and trees devoid of green. The same is true when you decide to accept somebody into your life. You must know that no matter how benevolent and perfect to you they may seem, fate has its mishaps, and doesn’t always play a fair game. And yet there’s one more thing, one might think after learning all these things that the way they will be better off is to never take risks. And supposedly yes, maybe you won’t get hurt, but you also won’t live. Because to live is to love, to live is to hurt, to live is to heal.

This current chapter of life feels strikingly similar to one of those slice of life novels you’d expect to find at the bookstore on the corner of the street. Only it wasn’t something you read whilst sipping tea on a sunday afternoon, it’s more like the type of heart-breaking piece of literature you finish late on friday nights, the kind that leaves you restless and contemplating the rest of the weekend. Or in this case, the rest of the month. And instead of seeing yourself in the life of the main character and mourning for them as if they were your own, the one who hurts is you, and it feels like nobody from the sidelines is mourning on your behalf. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of times you’ve mentally punched yourself for being this distraught, doesn’t everybody experience heartbreak at least once in their life? Maybe they do, but not everyone feels it this hard. Not everyone devotes every single inch of love in their hearts towards one singular person, only to have it blown out like the candles on a birthday cake, because the candles of the one you love burn for somebody who isn’t you.

And maybe if you were younger, if you were less understanding, if you had less control… you would be vengeful, heart full of nothing but envy for the lovely woman whose presence has his full attention. But you’re not, because you’ve grown. You’re older, you’re wiser, you understand. You understand the kind of pain such a mindset would inflict not only on the people around you, but also yourself. It’s truly hard to feel hate for that beautiful woman. She’s ever so kind, and strong, and beautiful and perfect and everything you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you’re not. She’s never wronged you, it’s not her fault. Truthfully, it’s not anyone’s fault. But that won’t change the fact that it hurts. In fact, it maims your very soul more than any pain you could have felt before. Most people would wonder why you even felt for him in the first place if they knew the history the two of you had. Yet the answer comes clear as day. To feel such comfort around him is something that rarely comes from other people. You know you can speak your mind on a bad day without scaring him off, and he knows, you hope he knows, that you’d put up with and listen to him as much as he needed as well. You love the way you always have to stifle a laugh whenever he makes an inappropriate comment, or how he’s unafraid to let you know when you’re wrong. How he always has to ponder the mysteries of the world at such a deep level, never taking things at face-value. And how he always hears you out from your perspective, never making you feel crazy or out of place for your seemingly otherworldly ideas.

Maybe it irked you at first, his insouciant and immature behavior, but it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself when really you knew deep down how endearing it felt, to have someone close enough to share such experiences with. And yet, through all of this, it seemed you had read him all wrong. This was the first time you had ever loved someone this deeply, let alone loved at all. People these days, especially young people, seem to lack the mental complexities you’d prefer in a partner. You wanted someone you could love and understand, not just some accessory at the hip to just brag and boast about. Even with all the times he’d berated you with insults and poked fun at your mishaps, he still possessed a sort of depth to his mentality, the kind that honestly made you fawn over the way you could hold meaningful conversations without feeling like you didn’t belong. If you recall correctly, he did mention once that he wasn’t a fan of small talk. Maybe that was just the way he was, or maybe it came as a result of his seemingly never ending history of trauma. (it made your heart clench just thinking about it, but you rarely brought it up. You knew all too well he wasn’t fond of the subject)

It only made sense he managed to snatch your heart right up into an unbreakable death grip. You were in love with him, for sure and certain. And it was likely that undying inferno, clouding your correct judgment in a cloud of smoke and ash, that led you to be here in this scene, the very moment that truly broke your heart, for the very first time.

You’d seen him with the girl a number of times, and to be fair, neither of them had ever confirmed any affection for the other, so perhaps you were just overthinking it all. Maybe to think such things would only be setting yourself up for disappointment, but for now, that could be left to the future. Maybe, if you were to get over your fears and doubts for just a moment, you would tell him. Maybe plan something for just the two of you, like they do in those cheap romance novels, and over a glass of zaytun peach lemonade, you look him in the eyes and say, “I love you.” And he would reply with, “Yes, so do I.” And the day would end however the author of said cheap romance novel sees fit.

And so you decide to do exactly that.

You find yourself sitting in immense regret as you wait outside the doors to the Akedemiya, anxiously picking at the cuticle of one of your nails as the unforgiving sun beats down on the back of your head. You’ll likely never fully get used to Sumeru’s weather. Typically at this time of the week, he attends the usual Vahumana lecture, begrudgingly of course. That was one of the things he was fond of complaining to you about, specifically the professor, whom he described as a “sulking old wench on the verge of death.” Maybe the description was a little much, but it elicited little giggles out of you nonetheless. And as the clock hits two in the afternoon, your anticipation only increases as you watch the door open and close, pairs of students leaving in intervals. You instantly perk up as you see his slender figure push its way out from the large wooden doors, making a beeline directly away from where everyone else was heading. Caught up in simply admiring him as he strolls away, lost in a daze, you suddenly snap out of your daydream as the realization hits you that he’s the reason you’re here. If he gets away, you’ll lose your chance.

With one last quick, deep breath of reassurance, you jog up to his side before he’s too far away, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Hey, hold on!” You call out, cheeks instantly redding as he cocks his head in your direction with a (thankfully) only mildly annoyed expression. Having a crush is so much more mortifying than you would have ever anticipated. “Hey-“

“What?” He interrupts, clearly already exasperated with whatever antics he thinks you intend to throw his way. “How was school?” You inquire, jogging up to his side again as he quickens his pace out of annoyance. “Don’t ask questions like that, I’m not your child.”

“Fine, my fault for wanting to know how you’re doing. I have a request for you.” You press on, not wanting to waste much time with his brashness. “I’m going to decline.” He insists. “No, you won’t. Well, maybe you will. But i’m politely requesting that you accept.”

“Well, you have to tell me what it even is first, no?”

You mentally roll your eyes. He always had to be like this, didn’t he? “I’m getting there. I was, um.. wondering if you were going to be busy this afternoon?” You question, cringing at the way the words failed to come out as smoothly as you had originally intended. He scoffs at this, followed by a laugh. “You’re hilarious. What do you actually want from me?”

“..what do you mean? I’m asking if you have any plans for the rest of today.”

“Why? Is Kusanali being overly dependent on her little errand boy again? I would’ve thought she would tell me herself, not send some messenger.”

This causes you to cringe. Despite the immense progress he’s made, he still can’t comprehend the fact that there are people who actually care for him and don’t see him as just some sort of a tool. “Oh come on, is that really the conclusion you’re going to jump to?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “What other reasons could you possibly have for seeking me out? Don’t tell me you actually want to spend time with me?” He quirks an eyebrow in amusement as he crosses his arms. He enjoys messing with you, he really does. “And what if I do?” You respond with an equally smug expression, seemingly forgetting about your previous nervousness and relishing in the fact that you can lightheartedly tease each other like this. “Then I’d tell you that you’re a fool. I don’t see any possible way you could benefit from being around me.”

“Why do you do this? Is it really so difficult to imagine that people enjoy being around you? Haven’t you spent enough time around me to know I’m not joking?”

He sighs, half in exasperation and half in defeat. “So you’re really saying you came all the way out here because you want to waste your afternoon on me? If I agree to whatever escapade you have planned, will you leave me alone then?” His voice is only slightly, but definitely noticeably softer than it was before. “I wouldn’t call it a waste. Please give yourself some credit.” You insist. “Fine, I’ll indulge you this once. But I better not hear any more of this.” He says, only mildly displeased. You smile madly to yourself, biting a lip as you fight to contain yourself, at least for the time required to form your next sentence. “Okay well, I’m not letting you back out now. Can we agree to meet somewhere then?”

“..if you insist.”

And not much longer after that, the two of you had agreed to meet a few hours later in the evening outside of the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater had planned that day to host a small festival in honor of what Nilou liked to call it’s “grand reopening”. Following recent events, the matra of the Akedemiya had decided to lay back on some of their laws and views regarding the arts, meaning that the theater was free to perform as openly as it liked, with some rules, of course. Needless to say, Nilou was absolutely ecstatic. She’d choreographed a whole show solely for the sake of reopening, and the streets of Sumeru City were plastered with all of the posters and flyers. Not only were you more than happy to come and support your good friend and her passions, you were also quite fond of the arts and always enjoyed a good performance. Not to mention it made a decent first date spot for two aspiring lovers. (“Date” was a strong word, and you were fully aware of the fact that a date was not what this was. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but daydream about such things.)

You’d graciously purchased a ticket for yourself as well as for him, much to his surprise. “And what if I hadn’t decided to show up? What would you do with your wasted money then?” He quirks as the two of you walk inside the theater, breathing in the scent of spices mixed with floral perfumes. “Well you’re here aren’t you? That means I don’t have to worry about that. But if for some crazy reason you did decide to ditch me, I’d just find some lucky unsuspecting stranger who’d appreciate a theater ticket much more.” You reply. “Of course you would. Always so generous.” He quips, not lacking his usual sarcasm. “Well what would you rather I do with it?” You question curiously. He scoffs. “That's not what I meant, your answer was fine. I’m just saying it’s so very like you.”

“Whatever, just come on. I think you might actually enjoy this, Nilou is very talented!” You chirp, skipping ahead to the doors of the auditorium, your enthusiasm showing right through. In truth, you had decided to bring him to a quiet place such as a theater as an excuse to not have to make too much conversation with him. The long performances would give you plenty of time to come up with what you were going to say once the time came. As guilty as it made you feel, you really only paid a fraction of attention to the lovely performance as your thoughts were lost elsewhere. It was finally beginning to dawn on you how anxious you really were, and a pool of regret starts forming in your chest as your mind conjures up all of the worst possible scenarios. He’s not exactly known for being the most compassionate person, so fear of rejection was only worse in this case. Would he ridicule you, or would he simply spit venom in your face like there’s no tomorrow? Either way, whether this night would turn out for the worse or for the better, you were too far in to turn back now. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

He didn’t seem to have much to say himself either, only making a snide remark as the curtains opened and remaining mostly silent for the rest of the performance. You’d almost say he was enamored with the dancers, watching them with a lovely sort of infatuation, almost as if he was also lost in his own little world. You find yourself continuously sneaking glances at him, whether to try and catch some sort of emotion on his face or simply just to look at him, you weren’t entirely sure. If he notices your constant little glances, he makes no comment. With a final flourish of sounds, music and lights that snaps you out of your anxiety-filled little daze, you zone back into the stage as the audience roars with applause and the curtains slowly come to a close. You breath in deep for your nose, realizing that you can no longer hide in the darkness and music of the theater. And for the first time since the beginning of the whole show, he speaks up. “You know, I might have doubted you a bit too much. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t a little enjoyable. You’re right, that girl does have some talent.”

Taking a minute to actually process that he was speaking to you, you blink a couple of times before turning to face him. “O-oh! See? I told you. Are you realizing now that you don’t always have to be so pessimistic?” He quirks an eyebrow at the way you appear to be so startled, but chooses to make no mention of it. “I hate to break it to you, but one night of little dance performances isn’t going to change my philosophy, no matter how much you want it to.” He chuckles as the two of you start to filter out with the rest of the crowd. “Maybe not tonight, but I bet one day I will.”

“Mhm. Good luck with that.”

By the time you exit the theater, the sun has almost completely gone down, only casting the city in the faintest remnants of orange and yellows. The ambience of the night can only be described as tranquil with the way it bathes the buildings in its warm purples and cooler blues. It fits him so well, you think. So well, you don’t even realize you’re staring. The moonlight illuminates the carefully sculpted features of his face, making him appear as if he were straight from one of the paintings of the masters. The artist clearly has a steady hand, with each brush stroke being carefully placed to exact precision, the colors fading into each other absolutely beautifully. It truly is a once in a lifetime experience to get the chance to lay eyes on somebody this breathtaking. You’re a sight for eyes, Kunimitsu. Are the words your brain decides to conjure up following this butterfly-inducing observation. But of course, such moments can only live so long as he decides to cut you off with a rather embarrassing reality check. “You’re staring. Something you want to say?”

The blush attacks your cheeks faster than you can even blink, eyes widening for but a moment. You’ve been caught red handed, nothing you can do about that. Instead of averting your gaze in shyness, you grasp tightly to that little sliver of confidence left from the beginning of this whole endeavor, using it as assistance for crafting your next words. “Hmm.. maybe there is.” The words fall out flawlessly, gaze never leaving his. And then there it is again, that familiar feeling of teeny tiny butterflies making themselves at home in the pit of your stomach with the way his eyes meet yours. “Then I think we should go find a place to sit. There’s… actually something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you as well.” He replies, with him being the one to break eye contact instead of you. If you strain your ears just hard enough, you swear he sounds uncharacteristically softer than usual, and you instantly wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. And with the way he immediately follows by tilting his hat down to cover his expression and quickens his pace, he has to be, you think. “Good. I wanted a drink, anyway.”

You imagine yourself being patted on the shoulder reassuringly, it’s truly now or never. You’re by yourself again, waiting in a surprisingly short line for lemonade. Disappointingly, the clearly under-staffed lemonade stand had quickly run out of many of the good flavors, including your favorite, zaytun peach. Deciding not to let it get you down, you settle on two glasses of plain lemonade, figuring that the Wanderer would prefer that kind anyway. You still hadn’t figured out what his deal was when it came to food. He didn’t seem like a picky eater, but he always grimaced anytime anyone made a comment regarding anything gooey and sweet. You hadn’t quite figured out if he hated all sweet things, or if it was just sweet things that also happened to be sticky… but no matter, if the citrus drink happened to not be to his liking, that was the least important concern on your mind at the moment. With annoyingly shaky hands and an increased heart rate, you take the two cool glasses of lemonade and make your way over to where your companion has already claimed a spot at a table, shaded and secluded away from the rest of the festival-goers.

You set the cups down, which he barely even acknowledges. Neither do you, practically forgetting about their entire existence the moment your legs hit the smooth wooden structure of the chair. He shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortably, you note, turning to face you. Much to your chagrin, he decides not to say anything, leaving the two of you in a dreadfully uncomfortable silence. “So-“

“You wanted to tell me something?” You interrupt. Truly you weren’t sure why, though it was most likely because you were trying to find some last minute way to further procrastinate your confession. He pauses for a moment, before inhaling sharply, followed by an unnecessarily long exhale. “I… suppose I do. I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and I’ve decided that despite the way you annoy me and your persistent show of naivety, I still think you’d have a good outlook on my predicament.” Usually when he makes quips like this, you’d playfully roll your eyes, followed by a witty retort of your own. But it seems that at this point into the night, you’ve already spent up all your previously prepared confidence. Your hands are under the table, one finger working nonstop at picking a loose cuticle, already turning pink and uncomfortable and raw from the friction. “I’ll… try my best. What exactly is it?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you wonder if he can sense your anticipation.

He makes an ‘ugh’ sound as his head drops forward, the bridge of his nose coming to land directly in between his pointer and thumb. “I just… I’m conflicted. I don’t…” This causes you to furrow your brows together at his odd display of vulnerability. It seems he’s at a loss for words, the first time you’ve ever witnessed such a thing. “About… what?” You query, clasping your hands together underneath the table. He squeezes his eyes shut and a forced exhale leaves his nose, and it’s the first time you think you’ve ever seen him willingly show that much emotion around you. “I’ve been… trying to come to terms with something as of late. And I’m just not understanding how all you mortals endure these kinds of things every day, it’s honestly appalling.” He lifts his head up from between his fingers, looking at you concernedly, as if he really was being honest about how he felt. “Okay, well first of all, I doubt that you actually feel things any less than the ordinary human, you just like to hide it. Second, what is it that’s bothering you even? You’re concerning me.” You comment. He scoffs. “The amount I feel is not the point. I am incredibly disturbed by this, and you are the only person I feel can advise me on what to do. You’re quite the expert on emotions, after all.”

You’re not quite sure whether he’s giving you a compliment or calling you emotional, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he’s even coming to you about something that clearly means so much to him hints at the fact that there might be some greater feeling lingering behind all of this. You’re about to open your mouth to ask once again what he means by all this, but he beats you to it, and you swear you see the apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color. “I keep having this reoccurring thought, about a person… that I may hold some sort of fondness for..”

Your breath hitches. This whole time your well-thought out (more like impulsive, but you digress) plan was to get him alone so that you would have to work up the courage on your own to confess to him. But now, was he going to do it for you? Would you be getting the happy ending you’d daydreamed about for so long? You zone out for the better part of his speech, attention only coming back for the last few words.

“…your friend, actually. You know, the one with the (color) hair? Surely you’ve noticed? That’s why I’m telling you, you’re the only one I feel even remotely comfortable with giving this information.”

What.

With those words, you swear you could literally feel your face turn white . Could you perhaps have misheard? Is he alluding to something else? It’s almost like you’re in denial. The only physical reaction this confession seems to get out of you is a blank stare, while your mind on the other hand is practically on a wild rampage. The man you love more than anything, more than life, more than the sun, more than yourself, sitting in front of you, telling you directly to your face that his heart belongs to somebody whose name is not yours. Whose whole persona you wish so dearly could be your own. And the audacity to ask for advice on what to do was really just the cherry on top. You feel absolutely mortified, like there’s a sizzling flame, a light in your stomach making you feel like you’d vomit the entirety of your organs at any given moment. He couldn’t possibly be lying either, with the way his whole demeanor seems to change to a completely different person when he speaks about her. He seems so oddly vulnerable telling you about how he feels. At the very least, he trusts you more than most to be so willingly sharing his thoughts with you. That’s something, at least.

After a short moment too long of silence, you blink away your surprise, putting on a soft expression that reads ‘congratulations, I’m so happy for you’ despite the ache forming in your heart. “Ah, is that so? You know, I think it’s great you’re allowing yourself this. She’s a beautiful girl, I’m sure she loves you just as much.” Gods, that hurt more than anything else you’ve ever had to say before. He pauses for a moment before speaking again, and you fear it’s because he’s noticed your trepidation. “You’re very perceptive for a mortal, you know. That much I’ve picked up on, if not anything else. So is that really what you think then? That she could really harbor any sort of affection for me, despite what I’ve done?” And if that doesn’t hurt even more. The first reason being that he clearly loves this girl even deeper than you’d originally thought, the second being that he still believes himself to be so inherently undesirable that he has to ask you for confirmation that another could love him back. And of course he’s lovable, he’s literally taken your very soul and intertwined it with his own.

“Kunimitsu, how could she not? Do you really not see anything in yourself of any value? Of course you’re loved. Despite what you think of yourself, and what you think others should think, you are meant to be cared for just as you are. I- she can see the way you’ve changed, and your efforts to heal and become better. If someone like you cares for her, there isn’t any possible way you aren’t dear to her as well.” The reason these words come out so easily can only be explained by the feelings you harbor so deeply for him. Maybe it sounds too much like a confession of your own, and despite trying to make yourself believe you say it for his own good, you know deep down it’s really because you want to relieve some of that ache for yourself. He looks at you in a relieved sort of way, almost endearing, yet still not fully believing. “Do I really deserve this..?” His eyes are by far the softest you’ve ever seen as he practically begs you to confirm it for him again. And damn it if you didn’t love him so much, if you weren’t so eager to please him. “You do. You really, truly do.” If only he knew how good you’d treat him if you were the one he longed for. If only he knew how hot your flame burned for him, if only he knew the way you longed to hold, caress, and simply just love him. And so you decide you can bear to look at him no longer, lest you break down in tears. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. I hope you think about what I told you. Good night, Kuni.”

You stand up, not really caring anymore if you seemed to end the night too abruptly. Maybe it was selfish to leave just like that, and maybe he could tell you were upset, but none of that mattered. Right now, you really wanted to just put yourself first for once. Nearly the instant you consider yourself far enough away from him or anyone else, you begin to break down. You roughly cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to cover the sound of a pathetic little sob that escapes your vocal chords. A shaky inhale follows as large droplets of salty tears quickly make their way down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Your other arm wraps around your midsection at a subconscious attempt at self comfort. You collapse against the slide of a building, sliding down the wall until you’re fully seated on the ground, allowing your emotions to fully take a hold of you. For what feels almost never ending, you cry and cry and cry until you don’t have it in you to produce anything more. You take another shaky breath, whether to calm yourself down or to replace all the oxygen lost, you’re not sure. It doesn’t really help either way.

After several more minutes of just sitting there, hugging your knees to your chest and looking up absentmindedly at the night sky, quite literally contemplating everything about your life, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of soft footsteps coming down the cobblestone road. You panic, desperately not wanting anyone to see you in such a state. Upon further inspection, the sounds of the approaching person become clearer. It sounds as if the owner isn’t wearing any shoes. Instead, there’s also the faintest sound of jingling bells. Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch a glimpse of exactly who seems to be approaching, and you sigh in relief. You actually wouldn’t mind a little company from this person, if they even notice you hiding in the depths of your despair. The little dendro archon strolls casually down the street, seeming to be thinking of nothing but how tranquil the ambience is. Part of you wants to step out from your hiding place and greet her, the other urging you to curl away even further. Neither of the thoughts win, resulting in you staying exactly where you are.

The white-haired little sprout hums an old Sumeruen tune as she bounces on the balls of her feet, not a care in the world. Your heart warms a little at the sight. Just as the thought finishes passing through your love-sick mind, she cocks her head to the side, noticing your presence. With a little pleased gasp, she bounces right over to you. “(Name), I’ve been looking all over for you! Why are you sitting all alone?”

You give her a smile, only half attempting to conceal your distress. You don’t really want her to question you about your misfortune, yet at the same time, it would feel really nice to tell somebody you trusted as much as her about it. “Hi, Nahida. I’m just taking a breather, I guess. It’s really nice out tonight, isn’t it?” Your voice is soft and smooth, as it usually is when making conversation with her. “It is indeed! I was just out taking a walk myself. My intention was actually to find you, I was wondering if you had made it to the festival. It seems I ended up getting a bit distracted… so I’d say it’s actually quite lucky I managed to run into you here. Silly me!” She sits down next to you, bells rustling against each other. Her short legs stick out straight and she rests her hands atop her lap. “You were looking for me? What for exactly?” You curiously ask, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand while your head turns to look at her. Your eyelashes are still clustered together in little points as a result of the river of tears just a few minutes prior.

She taps a finger against her chin, a typical habit of hers reserved for thinking. “To be honest… I don’t think I really had a reason. I was just seeking your company! Ever since I met you and the traveler, I’ve found that I quite enjoy spending time with my friends.” This elicits a giggle from you. She didn’t even intend for it to be a compliment, her comment was pure honesty. But nevertheless it succeeded in making you feel a little better to know that you were on her mind, even if she had no idea what you were feeling at the moment. “Well I’m glad you found me then. Did you go to the festival today?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance to. But…” She trails off, giving you a puzzled yet concerned expression.

“Is there something on your mind? I know I’m not an expert yet on human emotions, but I feel as if you are acting differently than you normally do.”

She sits patiently, waiting for a response. True, she had a bit of a hard time contemplating the more complex emotions of humans, but she was still one of the most empathetic people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You sigh, might as well tell her the truth. “Nahida, I… you’re right. I am thinking about something. I just don’t know exactly how to tell you..” Your gaze falls down, suddenly you become more interested in picking at your cuticles than the inquisitive girl beside you. She hums in understanding. “I see...” She sits in silence, words failing to find her. They don’t seem to come to you either.

“..shall I read your mind? Not to intrude, but do you think it would help? Would you like me to know what’s wrong?” She pressed, almost carefully. After a bit of trial and error, the young archon had learned that most people don’t appreciate being bluntly asked for their feelings. So, she’d learned to take things with a bit more heed. Any other day, you probably would have laughed, telling her not to worry herself over you. But, thanks to none other than Nahida herself, you’d begun to slowly become a bit more open with how you felt. She’d advised, after reading some self-help book on managing emotions, that you start telling people when you felt something that made you hurt. And as honestly awkward as it was, it was helping. In lieu of a response, you nod your head in answer to her question with a small ‘mhm’ sound, the words once again failing to come to you.

She nods her head as well, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before ever so softly taking your hand in both of hers, treating it as if it were a fragile glass ornament. She gives it a soft kiss before grasping it more firmly, shutting her eyelids before beginning the process of entering your consciousness. Without even trying, you replay the events of earlier that afternoon in your mind, cringing the whole way through. It brought a tough sort of ache into your chest, sort of like bread dough with too much flour. After only a few more seconds of replaying painful scenes and holding your breath without even realizing, she opens her eyes, but chooses not to release your hand just yet. When her expression meets yours, it can only be described as sorrowfully compassionate.

“Oh…” Is the only sound that escapes her lips. You smile sadly and attempt to laugh in order to lighten the mood, regretting it instantly the second the noise emitted from your throat turns into a sob. You cover your mouth with your hand as the tears return yet again. Nahida stands on her knees to better reach you, wrapping her small arms around your shoulders, patting your back comfortingly. “I am so, so, so sorry (Name). If only I had known… he hadn’t even told me about his feelings for her.” She coos. Speaking through your tears, you make an attempt to defend her position. “It’s not- It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” You let your head hang low with no more energy left to hold it high.

“You know that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak personally, but I can imagine it hurts just as much as you say. Please don’t start to think anything less of yourself because of this, you are still perfect.” She lifts herself from the embrace, holding your head in both of her hands. You look up at her with tear stained cheeks that glisten in the moonlight, giving a watery laugh. “Nahida, you are so nice to me. You think you don’t understand emotions, but you still care about mine more than a lot of people I’ve met.”

“It’s my duty as the Archon of Sumeru, isn’t it? I must attend to all the needs of my people. Political, physical, and I also believe emotional. And as one of my newfound friends, I need to take care of you too.” She smiles, resembling that of a proud child after their mother congratulated them on a well-earned school grade. It makes you smile too. “I guess it is then. Thank you, Nahida. You are really a good friend.”

“And so are you! Now, I want you to promise me something, okay? Go to bed tonight as soon as you can, get lots of good rest. And tomorrow make sure to eat a healthy breakfast and get lots of sunshine. Sunshine is proven to lift moods significantly! Can you do that for me?” She counsels, this time resembling that of a mother caring for her ill child. You nod in agreement. “Sure. I’ll try my best.” You know full well agreeing to her worried demands was only to make her happy. Truthfully, you’re not sure for how long this heartbreak will plague your mind. It’s not everyday the love of your life blatantly states to your face that they love somebody who isn’t you. Some people would get angry when faced with a situation like this. Angry at the boy, angry at the other. Angry at themselves, even. But as of right now, you can’t find it in you to be angry. The feeling lingering behind from the shipwreck only seems to be a deep sort of pain, the kind that hollows out your chest and resides deep in the darkest of corners, it’s shadows seeping out to infest every single inch of you. Despite the sunshine peeking in, maybe from the kind words of a friend such as Nahida, the shadows don’t seem all that repulsed by it. When you were younger, you once told yourself you weren’t interested in the idea of falling in love. After reading so many books, nothing about the topic ever appealed to you. But as most people know, lives hardly go as they are planned, hardly follow along with the intentions. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, you hadn’t even tried. And maybe that’s what made it hurt so bad, because it seemed the universe had surprised you with a gift so lovely. You accepted, because who wouldn’t turn down such a generous item? Only to find out the universe had made a mistake, that lovely present tied with a satin bow was not in fact made for you, but rather instead for the lovely person next door with sparkling eyes like diamonds and a heart of gold.

Right now, your eyes feel much too clouded to even have a chance at sparkling, and your heart too heavy to be made of anything but black, crumbling coal. Maybe you’ll get over him, or maybe you won’t. Maybe this will be the kind of first love that stays by your side the rest of your life, the kind you tell stories to your grandchildren about when they ask you if you’ve ever been in love. Or maybe the fates will have a change of heart and decide to grant you the wish you’ve been so desperately clinging on to. Either way, you love him. And there will always be a part of you that hopes, maybe, he’ll love you too.

[artist-issues]

While we're on the subject of Disney princesses vs. feminism, I want to bring up my own hot take on Jasmine and Aladdin. I see a lot of women saying, "Jasmine's an idiot! Aladdin lied to her!" Well, um, SHE lied first. He first saw her when she was pretending to be a peasant girl, because that was the only way she could sneak out of the palace. And she went along with him lying on her behalf so she could keep up the pretense of being a peasant girl. They're really 2 peas in a pod on that point.

And here's the thing I never see anyone talking about: Aladdin's not your run-of-the-mill peasant boy that desires to trick a princess into marriage for power, prestige, and money. He saw what he thought was a peasant girl in the marketplace and decided, "yup, she's the one." THEN he found out she was a princess and lost hope until he met Genie. In a way, Aladdin's story is just Cinderella in reverse.

I see what you're saying. I actually think it's important to compare how Jasmine seemingly "pretends to be something she's not" with how Aladdin definitely "pretends to be something he's not."

Jasmine and Aladdin make a great compare/contrast character study.

Jasmine's treated like she's precious and worth caring for her whole life. Aladdin is treated like he's worthless his whole life. Jasmine never gets to make her own decisions, even though she's about to be considered an adult. Aladdin has to make all his own decisions. Jasmine doesn't know how dark and dangerous the world is. Aladdin does, he's lived it.

But anyway. The point is, when Aladdin goes out and pretends to be a Prince, he has a goal. He genuinely wants everyone (especially Jasmine) to believe his lie. Jasmine's focus, when she goes out in disguise, is totally different. You can tell she's not really focused on making everybody believe she's a peasant girl. She even almost forgets to pull her hood up and hide her crown in the marketplace.

You can particularly tell she hasn't thought through a big, elaborate lie about a false identity when she is confronted by the angry stall owner. She straight-up says, "If you let me go back to the palace--" And sure, it's in a moment of panic.

But the whole vibe of Princess Jasmine in Disguise is very naive, like she hasn't thought this through, like she was so interested in seeing the world that she didn't expect the world to see her, back.

The point I'm trying to make is, the storytellers were focused on Aladdin being the liar. They did not let Jasmine be thought of with the same culpability as Aladdin for her deception. When Aladdin asks her where she's from, she has the opportunity to make something up. Thats what he would've done, and does do, later on. But Jasmine, NOTICEABLY, does not make something up. She literally says, "What does it matter? I ran away and I am not going back."

(Specifically, she says “what does it matter?” What does it matter where she’s from? That’s all Aladdin can think about: if Jasmine knew he was “a crummy street rat” she wouldn’t value him. But one of the first things she ever reveals about herself is that she doesn’t think where she’s from matters in their first real conversation. Someone had to write that line in. Someone very carefully crafted her dialogue so that we, the audience, knew, somewhere deep down, that Aladdin was wrong to think she couldn’t be trusted with the truth of who he was. But that’s not my point, my point is:) She tells him the truth. The vulnerable, emotional part of the truth. The part that invites Aladdin getting to know her better, the part that opens herself up to follow-up questions about herself.

Because that's what Jasmine represents, and it's what Aladdin learns from in the movie: the truth will set you free. If Jasmine had been the kind of girl who didn't talk to lowly peasant boys, or tried to front and fake and lie, she wouldn't have been open enough with Aladdin to fall in genuine love. But she's naive. She believes the best about the world. She easily trusts him.

She's the kind of girl who would give an apple to a hungry child without payment even occurring to her--because in her mind, why would anyone even think about payment when a child is starving? She's the kind of girl who would share how she feels with the first random stranger to be kind to her, regardless of the fact that they're sitting in a ruined abandoned hut or they just met two seconds ago and she already knows he's a smooth-talker.

She's just trusting. She chooses trust (without being an idiot) while Aladdin does not. Because Aladdin doesn't believe that the truth will set him free. Jasmine does. And she lives like it.

Al's not a Cinderella story. Cinderella doesn't have to learn anything in her story--she teaches everyone around her. She also doesn't make decisions to change her circumstances. She makes decisions to stop her circumstances from changing her. Aladdin and Cinderella are not alike, except that they're both sort of poor.

[ushidoux]

Lesson - Atsumu x Reader

Summary: You drop Atsumu for bad behavior and he’s struggling to understand. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: super toxic Atsumu, toxic relationships, fem!reader, references to sex

A/N: literally don’t date a dude like this i’m not promoting anything lmfao. also it’s just bad feeling in this fic, no one gets gravely injured.

Song: S**c*dal by YNW Melly

---

I thought that we were meant to be

You took my heart and made it bleed

I gave you all my ecstasy

I know you'll be the death of me

One ring, two rings, three rings, four. No response. 

In the pitch dark of his bedroom, his face incompletely illuminated by the light of his cell phone, Atsumu Miya sends his fifth text of the night. 

Pick up, please.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings. Again, no response.

Atsumu feels his chest tighten, and his face flushes even redder than before, but he’s not yet angry. He’s still desperate to hear your voice. He sends yet another text.

I’m sorry, I’ll change... I’ll do anything you want. Just please just pick up the phone.

He gives you time to respond. That’s what you’ve always asked from him, right? Time, in terms of attention, in terms of patience, in terms of advancing the relationship in a direction that you thought was fruitful.

He hated so much that you always wanted to set the pace. Whether it was when to become exclusive, when to start having sex regularly, when to meet the losers you called your friends, when to meet your parents. You wanted to control everything, and even that you had essentially cut him out of your life, you were again controlling his reactions.

Why else would he still be up at 4am, trying so hard to get your attention? All his better logic told him you were asleep, maybe even asleep in that piece of shit’s arms, but multiple shots of Hennessey told him it was right to text and call and beg. After all, you had said once that you’d be by his side no matter what. 

So why was he alone in this bed?

Ten minutes pass and he calls again.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings, six. No response.

I know it’s late, but I need you, he texts, and then he calls again.

One ring and the phone abruptly cuts off, and Atsumu’s bottled up emotions explode.

“Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available -”

“Fuck, ___! Ya stupid fucking bitch, you.. You always wanted me to care for you so here I am caring, why the fuck would you do this to me, why the fuck… are you serious? Why…,” his slightly slurring voice loses steam and trails off instead as tears start to well up in his tired eyes.

“Why would ya give up on me now?”

Left lipstick on my Hennessy

Felt like you took my soul from me

You gave me all your ecstasy

I thought that we were meant to be

Atsumu was always confident and having your unconditional love and support despite the way he treated you only served to supplant that arrogance. You’d never leave him, you always grinned and bore anything he threw at you.

“Shut the fuck up at my matches.”

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the team.”

“I’m not interested, ask somebody else.”

“Find something better to do than follow me around, you’re so needy.”

He barely looked at you when his words were harsh, so he couldn’t see your smiles towards him deepen into frowns every time he spoke to you without respect until eventually all that remained was contempt when you looked in his direction.

But would he have realized then? Maybe your own regard would have simply fallen in line with the way others saw him. He didn’t care what others thought. He was sure he didn’t care what you thought. Until now. 

Baby, you took control of me

And I got too many enemies

I knew you wanted to fuck him 'cause I could just tell

Check my back, now I'm, now I'm in my bag, yeah

You did me bad, you did me bad

But I said, "Fuck it," and I ran up my bag, yeah

Atsumu never hung up the phone as he blew up, despite holding back warm tears that clouded his vision even more so than the pitch blackness of the room.

“Fucking whore, I bet you’re at his place now, you stupid, stupid slut!” He yelled into the phone.

But you’d never cheated. You’d just quietly asked him to treat you better or you would leave him, and he had simply laughed.

“Do you think you can find better?” He had asked, and your stomach had turned at the cruel way his smile upturned as he stepped closer to you, towering you with his height and gripping your face with two fingers. “You may be pretty, little piggy, but there’s not much better than me, silly.”

“I-I don’t want to leave you… I just want you to be a little less mean.”

“A little less mean, or a little less me?” He teased before planting a kiss on your trembling mouth, biting your lower lip just slightly as he parted.

“‘Sumu please…,” you insisted, flustered that he still made you hot despite how much you realized he was objectively awful to you.

“Why should I be nicer to you when you’re desperate for my cock anyway?”

So sure that you would never take your eyes off of him as he perfected his tosses game after game, he didn’t notice you slip away. He didn’t notice the increased time you spent out with friends distancing yourself from him or that the way your face now lit up when you received texts from heaven-knows-who.

Why would he have to? You would always be by his side no matter what.

But you didn't even put it all on the line

For me, no, oh, I'm sorry

This is the end of us

It's crazy 'cause my heart is dangerous

“Let’s break up.”

He laughed when you said those words right on the phone, right when he was on his way to meet you.

You? Breaking up with him?

“Yer so funny, ___. Anyway, I had a rough day babe, so you already know what I need.”

“I’m serious, Atsumu. Don’t come here… I-I won’t open the door.”

Your resolve had been shaky, but you were firm. So firm in fact that he found himself standing in front of the door banging as hard as he could for your attention, as you remained inside, using loud headphones to block out the racket as well as the expletives now filling the hallway. You considered for a moment calling the police, but you knew it would kill a man as proud as Atsumu to be escorted out by authorities on your behalf. 

Again, for his sake and for the last time, you endured it.

Felt like you took my soul from me

Like the devil got a hold on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

“She’s a stupid fucking slut, I should have known from the start, can’t trust these bitches no matter what they tell you,” Atsumu grumbled, seated at his brother’s restaurant, now that he had taken a moment to stop roasting the quality of the free onigiri his brother had offered him and had enough time to be vulnerable.

Osamu’s droopy eyes, not unlike his furious brother in front of him, looked almost exasperated.

“I mean, you’re sort of a douche,” he finally replied flatly.

“And?”

Osamu would have added something else if not for the fact that Atsumu had started choking on the food he was wolfing down with reckless abandon. While Osamu said nothing further, he made a mental note to expect Atsumu way more often and to check in. It was painfully evident that his twin was way more hurt than he let on. 

It was only after he got drunk enough that he finally admitted,

“I wish I had listened to her.”

You taught a lesson to me that I had to learn

And I'm so sorry 'cause you let our bridges burn

I said I loved you and I wish I never did

I swear to God, I swear to God, you stupid bitch

“I fucking hate you, ya know that? I hate you so fucking much. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...”

His voice warbles from alcohol and now he’s repeating that phrase over and over again; the message seems to go on for forever, but you listen to every word. The fact of the matter is that you miss him, and you wish you didn’t. You know he needs you but you need him to be better. 

So you continue to listen, not because you want to hear him suffer and not because you want to be with him anymore - at least not right now, anyway - but because you need closure. Evidence. Reassurance that he was really not ready to love you.

He curses you for leaving him for what feels like forever, but then nothing more is said and you’re sure he’s fallen asleep, but his last words haunt you:

“I loved you so fucking much.”

[bestworstcase]

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show. 

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever. 

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that. 

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down: 

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor. 

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty. 

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back. 

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put. 

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time. 

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest. 

he stays calm. 

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him. 

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics. 

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves. 

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now. 

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points: 

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger. 

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm. 

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not. 

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them. 

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself. 

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening. 

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment. 

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own. 

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show. 

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

[diavolodigitale]

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.2 Kadara

I must admit, editing this 2 years after writing is a real pain in the you-know-what. It almost doesn’t seem worth saving anymore, but I am determined to finish this. The last 2 chapters are kind of fun after all.

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, nothing serious, really.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra 

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Reyes

Rating: PG

Size: around 6 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

Kadara port had everything a weary traveller could ever wish for: water for when you were thirsty, food for when you were hungry, protection for when you were in fear for your life, and for when you were thoughtless - a knife to stab you in the back. From time to time even James needed some of its special offers, but not as radical as what most of the mercs coming here were looking for. The job of the Pathfinder was dangerous and, sadly, unrewarding, so he developed a habit of coming to the port to give some rest to his fagged body and worn-out mind. People there openly disliked him which gave him the perfect opportunity to behave however he wanted without thinking much about the role forced onto him.

Ryder enjoyed observing dozens of different people visiting the port every day. Sometimes he would even become the witness of some utterly disgusting and dishonest affairs which had, to put it mildly, not the best outcome for one of the sides of the conflict. Nevertheless, he learnt his lesson about not trying to help every single person on Kadara very well literally on the day of his first visit. As such, those situations turned into mere inconveniences he had to steer clear of while staying there. Helping his race survive was at the moment more important than dealing with exiles and the problems they caused. Priorities first.

What he liked even more than observing people, was talking to his crew members in a kind of informal atmosphere. No doubt, the air that prevailed on the Tempest was mostly friendly and peaceful, but work is work no matter what they say. Here, on Kadara, on the other hand, every one of them would find something more enjoyable to occupy themselves with in their free time so the general mood shifted from busy to more casual. Whatever they were doing – drinking in the bar, trying to persuade the merchant to give a discount, or checking the incoming supplies for the ship – it was still interesting for him to see them act in situ.

Having no plans in particular for the evening, Ryder was strolling in the direction of the local bar when he noticed a familiar silhouette. A renowned angaran commando stood near a bunch of crates piled up in a secluded alley. Quite far from any vendor or stall, as Ryder noticed. It was already enough to get him interested.

He cautiously approached Evfra from behind just to startle him with a loud “greeting” of his.

“Is it really you who I see here? Or is it just a black-market VI? I would really be astonished if technologies went so far,” he yelled cheerfully.

“Is it a rhetorical question?” Evfra turned his head and gave Ryder a tired spiritless look.

“I hope something happened,” responded Ryder and pouted, “‘cause if you’re so dull only because I’m here, I will be deeply offended.”

“Fascinating.”

Evfra watched a few strangers pass by the alley they were in and clicked his tongue disappointedly. Clear as day, he was looking for something or someone.

“So, what is the leader of the angaran Resistance doing here all alone? Such a famous figure should be an object of desire for local bounty hunters,” said Ryder. His curiosity always got the best of him.

“Same goes to you, Pathfinder.”

“I guess, more people want me to actually do something to improve the quality of life in the galaxy than just to die in the slums. And you haven’t answered my question,” noted Ryder, unsatisfied with the reply he got.

“It may be hard to believe but lots of people here have heard stories about me. Despite that, hardly anybody knows what I really look like. It is very useful when you hold such a position. Of course,”—Evfra sighed before continuing—“if you do not have a Pathfinder nearby, who will yell that it is indeed you and not somebody else.”  

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Ryder propped up one of the nearby crates and pretended to zip up his mouth.

“I would really like to see that.” Evfra sighed yet again.

“That’s just an idiom that–”

“I know. Jaal told me about this strange phenomenon of yours. Seems like everything about humans is as confusing as it is annoying.”

“It won’t be so confusing when you get to know us better.”

“If I get to know you.”

“Believe me, I will do everything for this alliance to work out,” declared Ryder. He sounded completely confident in what he was saying. “I am always ready to help and even make some necessary sacrifices for the sake of our union.”

“Spare me the details, please.”

Evfra looked around one more time. His search wasn’t successful which was obvious from a disgruntled look on his face. Ryder noticed that, and his interest towards the goal of Evfra’s pursuit on Kadara grew even more.

“So, what could be so important that it managed to make you come here personally?”

“Resistance’s matters.”

“That I have already figured out,”—Ryder raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms—“I mean, why you? As far as I know, you have countless field agents that could take up this business on your behalf.”

Understanding the Pathfinder wouldn’t be shaken off so easily, Evfra decided to give up without even starting an argument. He wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible.

“I am looking for my informant. He hasn’t contacted me for a few days, although I’ve been waiting. And I loathe waiting,” he responded.

“And for that you spared the time to come personally? I’m impressed.”

“Do you trust everybody on your team, Ryder? Do you trust everybody on the Nexus?” asked Evfra, staring at Ryder intently. There was no point in continuing this conversation, but he just couldn’t hold himself back.

“That’s the question not to be answered in front of the people I work with,” chuckled Ryder.

“Then you know why I’m here. If you want to do something, do it yourself. In this case, you will have no one to blame if something goes wrong or the desired result is not achieved.”

“I can understand that.” The Pathfinder nodded slightly and went on, "I think, you’re a real professional, you know?”

Evfra gave Ryder a gloomy glance and left the question unanswered. He was not entertained by this talk the way Ryder was. He probably never had been.

“Is it Reyes you’re looking for?” asked Ryder bluntly.

“Are you going to expose identities of all people working for the Resistance?”

Evfra did not even sound mad anymore. Just tired.

“If nobody here knows who you are, then there’s no harm in mentioning that you’re looking for him. Lots of people on Kadara work with him as well, so saying his name out loud isn’t really that much of a deal.”

“Your thoughtlessness is going to get you killed some day.”

“Not while you’re around to take care of my safety.”

No reaction followed, so all Ryder could do after such a remark was stand silently and awkwardly scratch his neck. There was still nothing special he wanted to do in the port besides just sticking around for some time, so he figured he’d stay here and see where the situation would get him, but the atmosphere was killing him.

“Reyes seems to like you,” said Evfra after a few minutes of silence.

“He does?”

“Yes, even though I cannot see why.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Ryder and forced a little smile that looked sincere enough. He knew that arguing with Evfra would never lead him anywhere. “So, do you mean he likes me as a person or…?”

“I do not possess such knowledge. We don’t discuss personal matters.”

“Oh, I see. Then how do you know he likes me?”

Evfra exhaled loudly and sat down on one of the crates, perhaps, tired of standing on the same place for what could be hours.

“He speaks highly of you. It seems that he admires your methods and purposes, although it is hard to tell, since you, humans, are so bad at expressing your true feelings.”

“Guess we have something to learn from your kind.”

“You have a lot to learn from us,” corrected him Evfra. “First of all, how to read the attitude and recognize when it is better to stop the communication.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, but don’t promise anything.”

Ryder considered something for a few moments before deciding to be bold till the end and taking a seat near Evfra. There was high chance the angara would stand up, not wanting to be near him after the last incident, but Ryder really hoped he would just leave it be.

Evfra looked at the Pathfinder with dissatisfaction, but said nothing.

“How’s your arm?” asked Ryder, relieved by his reaction.

“Healed.”

“Good to hear that.”

“Do you want to ask me how my head is?”

“As good as mine, I’m sure,” answered James, but still threw a quick glance at Evfra’s forehead to make sure he was fine.

“It was foolish of you to perform such an act. My bones could have been much stronger than yours, and then your people would have lost another Pathfinder,” muttered Evfra between his teeth.

Evfra’s words made something about Ryder change. For a few moments, he wasn’t so upbeat anymore – just an ordinary exhausted and disappointed in life individual on Kadara.

Evfra mused over the idea of saying he was sorry, but the situation seemed so weird to him, that he decided not to.

A familiar voice of someone speaking with a charming accent rang out not far from Evfra and Ryder’s location.

“Well, isn’t that the great Evfra himself?”

“Reyes!”—Evfra stood up abruptly and took a few steps towards the tan-skinned man—“I’ve been waiting to hear from you for days and you didn’t send me a word. Don’t make me come here once again or else I may find someone more responsible to take your place.”

Ryder tried to recall when he last saw him this angry but failed.

“Did you come all the way just to see me?”—Reyes made an ironic bow—“I am pleased and honored. If I may ask, did Pathfinder Ryder also come here looking for me?”

“Not this time, Reyes, but it is good to see you alive and well,” said Ryder and nodded with a hint of a polite smile on his face.

“What a shame. I was already intrigued by the possibilities of our prospective cooperation.”

“Pathfinder Ryder will be the only one available to you for cooperation if you do not explain yourself right now,” said Evfra almost growling.

He was visibly unhappy with how the conversations developed. Ryder got the feeling he’d better return back to the Tempest and leave those two to discuss their business in privacy. He stood up, displaying his intention to withdraw from this soon-to-be battlefield.

“I see you need some time to catch up. I also have some business to take care of while I’m in the port, so I’ll probably get going.”

“Leaving already?” A slight disappointment could be heard in Reyes’ voice as he spoke. “I thought maybe we could grab a drink or two after Evfra and I… resolve our issue.”

“Enough!” shouted Evfra, raising his voice like he rarely did. His chest was heaving with suppressed rage. Ryder thought he was most likely really angry with Reyes’ careless and provoking manner. Or anything else. From James’ experience, it really didn’t take Evfra long to find a reason to be angry about.

“Maybe next time. It was nice seeing you, Evfra. And you, Reyes, as well,” he declined, not wanting to provoke the angaran commando any further.

“Likewise, Pathfinder. I sincerely hope to see you here again in the nearest future,” responded Reyes and gave him a wink.

Ryder lightly nodded and gave another polite smile. Evfra only sniffed and abruptly turned away, facing the other direction when Ryder was leaving. Once more, not bidding farewell properly.

[flammeusarch2]

RED + WHAT HAPPENED IN LONDON.

in  all  the  story  red  has  gone  out  of  it  with  pretty  much  little  to  no  trauma  attached,  because  during  the  surprise  attack  she  wasn't  around,  on  the  way  to  copley's  office  she  was  on  getaway  car  duty  and  she  hasn't  even  fought  her  way  down  the  building.  sure  she  fought  some  of  merrick's  security  guards  on  her  way  to  the  pad  to  unlock  doors  for  the  gang  and  then  left  to  dispatch  the  car  plate  that  was  shown  on  the  cameras  outside  the  building,  but  in  context  she  hasn't  even  died  once  throughout  the  movie  events.  

still,  she's  angry.  nile  flings  herself  down  the  building  and  the  squad  leaves  as  the  police  arrives.  by  that  time  red  has  already  made  her  way  out  and  far  (  for  obvious  reasons,  it's  not  like  they  would  have  all  fit  in  one  car  )  but  she's  got  anger  boiling  inside  ---  first  because  she  can't  believe  that  one  time  she  decides  to  trust  the  guys  on  a  job  a  shitshow  happens,  second  because  she  would  have  never  expected  such  betrayal  by  a  person  she  considers  family.  once  they  got  in  their  london  safe  house  to  get  rid  of  bloody  clothes  and  stuff,  red  literally  drops  a  five  minutes  piece  on  booker  for  being  a  bastard.  her  words  are  not  kind,  she  shoots  to  kill  and  makes  sure  not  miss  (  oh  poor  soul  he  feels  lonely,  letting  a  psycho  stick  needles  into  his  brothers  will  sure  fix  it!  /  you  think  because  you're  sad  we're  all  expendable?  /  you  sold  your  family  for  what?  your  stupid  death  wish  isn't  necessarily  ours  too  /  saying  that  you  did  it  for  andy  doesn't  make  you  less  than  a  coward  /  there's  something  wrong  with  you  /  you  need  help  )  and  she  regrets  these  words  as  soon  as  they're  out  in  the  room  but  the  point  is  that  things  like  this  shouldn't  happen  ---  it's  literally  the  reason  why  they  keep  their  identities  secret,  because  being  lab  rats  is  not  something  they  want  to  try.

as  i  already  mentioned  red  arrives  at  the  pub  when  the  price  has  already  been  decised.  i  think  in  that  span  of  time  she  went  for  a  walk  to  clear  her  mind,  or  to  cover  once  again  their  tracks  ---  thing  is  she  does  some  thinking  and  she  absolutely  can't  stand  it.  booker  is  a  brother  in  arm,  she's  felt  the  rope  around  her  neck  and  the  cold  creep  on  her  spine  when  he  died,  she's  met  him  in  paris  and  left  him  alone,  she's  come  back  to  see  how  things  were  going,  stayed  for  a  while    (  homegirl  lived  for  more  than  a  decade  in  paris  just  so  that  he  could  have  a  friend  with  "common  issues"  to  talk  with  in  case  he  wanted  to,  that's  the  biggest  commitment  and  effort  she's  ever  put  in  a  friendship  )    she's  gone  to  his  son's  funeral.  red  doesn't  give  him  special  treatment  for  being  younger,  just  treats  him  with  the  same  kindness  and  respect  she  reserves  to  her  family  ---  and  has  done  so  for  the  past  two  centuries  with  everybody  else...  just  to  feel  like  in  the  end  it  meant  nothing,  it  was  just  useless,  because  he  still  sold  the  group,  and  people  who  helped  him  through  immortality,  like  it  was  fine.  

when  she  gets  to  the  pub  he's  outside  and  she  can't  even  look  in  his  direction  for  a  second.  she  literally  speed  past  him  because  whatever  is  she  supposed  to  say?  she  doesn't  want  to  apologize  because  booker  got  andy  almost  killed,  joe  and  nicky  hurt,  and  she  feels  entitled  to  be  mad  for  almost  losing  half  of  her  family.  she  puts  on  a  cold  demeanor  because  she's  good  at  those,  they're  easier  than  conflict.  just  pretend  the  problem  is  not  there  to  see.  she  gets  in  and  plays  devil's  advocate,  because  old  habits  are  hard  to  die    (  let's  give  him  a  year  ultimatum  to  get  help,  if  he  gets  better  we  let  him  back,  if  not  he's  on  his  own  )  and  even  as  she  bargains  for  him  red  knows  that  it's  stupid  because  the  day  before  she  would  have  trusted  booker  with  her  life  and  today  she  would  sleep  with  an  eye  open  just  in  case.  last  thing  last,  because  red  is  a  sap  at  heart  she  drops  her  opinion:  staying  together  is  more  important  than  how  we  stay  together.  it's  childish,  and  she  has  half  a  mind  that  the  gang  would  throw  her  out  too.  hundred  years  is  settled,  feels  good  because  it  means  countless  second  chances  booker  can  take  to  atone  for  what  he  did,  and  red  hopes  he  does.  might  need  a  little  push  though,  and  in  the  meantime  everybody's  got  time  to  deal  with  what  happened  the  way  they  think  fits  most.

when  andy  announces  the  sentence  and  there's  the  last  goodbye,  red  doesn't  even  bother  to  show  her  face  from  the  stairs  ---  whatever,  see  him  when  i  see  him.  she  ends  up  regretting  that  too,  because  in  her  mind  whatever  he's  done  he's  still  family,  and  she's  actively  trying  to  put  more  guilt  on  him  (  which  is  bitch  move  on  her  behalf  and  that's  something  that  took  two  weeks  to  say  out  loud  at  therapy  )  knowing  that  it  won't  help.  as  soon  as  she  starts  therapy,  she  also  begins  writing  him  a  letter  every  day  ---  she  doesn't  send  them,  it's  just  to  waste  time.  nile  introduces  her  to  vines  and  she  catches  herself  texting  links  to  youtube  compilations  and  scrambling  "this  made  me  laugh,  hope  it  works  for  you  too"  in  french  and  as  soon  as  she  musters  the  courage  to  send  it  vines  are  their  conversation  topic.  

when  she  breaks  into  his  house  it's  more  because  a  month  has  passed  and  she's  decided  to  call  it  a  truce,  start  building  trust  again,  whatever  her  therapist  said.  she  doesn't  spare  comments  but  leaves  with  a  lighter  heart  and  a  few  pamphlets  on  his  table  with  references  to  therapists  (  the  sooner  you  do  something  to  get  yourself  out  of  this  hole  you've  dug  the  sooner  you'll  feel  better  /  it's  not  even  something  you  should  do  to  come  back,  it  has  to  be  for  you,  to  move  on  or  at  least  have  some  peace  of  mind  )  and  she  finds  out  it  makes  her  feel  better.  

i  think  the  way  she  deals  with  everything  is  very  telling  of  how  she  hangs  on  the  immortals  for  dear  life  to  get  by  and  she'd  go  great  length  to  keep  it  together  ---  in  the  end  she's  actually  travelling  distance  to  spend  time  with  her  "split  up  family"  and  i  think  this  also  suggests  that  red  is  healing  and  maturing  not  just  from  what  happened  in  london  but  generally  with  the  way  she  handles  her  life,  memories  and  grief  in  a  healthier  way.  

[secret-engima]

Nox keeps giving the media meltdowns. How's that, y'know, working out for him? And what's the general reaction around the Citadel crew to the media circus? Also, how do people feel when they realize exactly how /powerful/ Nox is?

Hmmm for the most part, Nox is ... ambivalent to how many times he sends the media into a tizzy. He’s got memories of 2k worth of royalty and scandals, he remembers the invention of media networks and sometimes dreams of the invention of the flipping printing press. There is literally nothing they can say about him that he doesn’t already have memories of somehow. Honestly, it’s .... alternately tiring and hilarious to him. He kinda wishes people would take a chill pill, but on the other hand, since Regis would never force him to deal with the media circus unless Nox willingly agreed to it, he doesn’t particularly care. At least until he wants to- you know- leave the Citadel and go literally anywhere in Insomnia and Then It Becomes A Problem (Nox misses the days he was just a nobody with earrings and baggy clothes. So much). Though, since he knows that nothing he can do or not do will calm them down, he does occasionally indulge in intentionally poking them with a proverbial stick.

By Citadel crew I’m uncertain to if you mean Regis and Co + Chocobros or the long-suffering Citadel press corps, so I will just do both-

-Regis feels So Very Sorry for his eldest. He knows he couldn’t keep Nox a secret forever, but he honestly had ... hoped it wouldn’t get this bad. He’s afraid for a while that the media things will depress Nox or make him afraid to leave the Citadel/angry at being Regis’s son, but Nox just rolls his eyes at everything and ignores the media hounds with catlike ease (by which I mean he spaces out into the distance with a neutral expression and occasionally does the human version of pushing things off other things to distract them).

-Clarus knew this was coming. He knew it was going to get so much worse when Axis’s existence came out (it did). He ... would feel bad about this but this is just- royal/celebrity life. This is a slightly more hysterical version of normal. Honestly it’s the noble society he’s more worried about (he realizes quickly that his fears are unfounded, for a kid who’s been unknown for years he can verbally tear nobles to shreds with the best of them. Clearly a talent inherited from the Izunia side of his heritage).

-Cor hates the media. Always has, always will. No time for it. Not after all the stuff they threw out about him becoming a Crownsguard and then alter their role in cementing his hated Immortal title. Is fully waiting and ready for Nox to get mad enough at the media to condone Cor going out and doing Something Stupid And Maybe Bloody about it. Unfortunately, Nox never does, so Cor has to just sit and seethe and occasionally laugh evilly over Nox’s latest trolling behavior.

-Noctis doesn’t even know about the media storm for   y e a r s. He’s the bby Crown Prince, you really think anyone is gonna let this kid watch the news channels and the gossip talk shows? No sir. Not on Ignis’s watch. Noctis DOES hear about it at school though, with students bugging him about it and even TEACHERS side-eyeing him like they expect something Dramatic to happen. Noctis eventually gets sick of it and punches another student in the face probably. Ignis is scandalized, Regis tries to gently explain that no, Noctis cannot throw someone in dungeon because they said nasty things about Nox and no he is not explaining what those nasty things mean.

-Ignis is ashamed to look back and realize that he once bought into about 80% of the media meltdown over Nox. Now that he knows Nox better, he knows that none of it is remotely true and the world is not going to turn Game of Thrones on him. Now he’s ... very insulted on Nox’s behalf, but understands that it is not his place to intervene (though he does give patented Frosty Looks at any reporters that come sniffing around the Citadel forever after).

-Gladio does not watch conventional TV. He watches action blockbusters that have explosions, documentaries on wildlife/camping/hunting/sword-making and Iris’s favorite show about magical girls and talking, rainbow colored Chocobo companions when she makes the puppy eyes at him. That’s it. Is ... nominally aware of news and social media having fits over Nox but Does Not Care so long as they don’t bother Nox and nobody actually tries anything against Noctis’s big brother.

-Citadel press corps kinda hates Nox’s guts. On one hand, he is a Model Prince because he doesn’t go out and get drunk, doesn’t have wild parties, doesn’t have any actual scandals that they need to cover up or spin positively. On the other ... refuses to do press conferences. Refuses to do interviews. Refuses to do anything to help them mitigate the media meltdowns that his mere existence causes (and the events of the Music Drabble I have yet to write, OH BOY do they hate him for that). Just- hides in the Citadel and only makes appearances when it’s a mandatory ball/gala/thing or when he’s accidentally unleashing another media Meltdown. Agrees to one (1) private interview when he’s 18 and even then it’s ONLY if he can talk to some random, unknown rookie who runs a gossip column. They, by turns, want to strangle him and praise his existence, but at least he isn’t as bad as Regis and Clarus were in their day.

-It- would take a long time for people to really know how powerful Nox is. Like- out in the wilds of Lucis proper? There ARE people who know he’s way stronger than he lets on (the Hunter Corps and their families that he’s saved a bunch of times, plus everybody in Hammerhead who politely pretended Cid wasn’t housing the Nif Chancellor and his LC nephew for two years). The Hunter Corps, out of everyone, have the best idea of just what Nox is capable of, because they’ve ... put together a few things over the years. Like how Nox usually crops up in the area a day or so before a Niflheim base gets shredded/blown up/otherwise Wrecked™ for seemingly no reason. But his Real Power? That ... I’m honestly not sure how that would come out.

-But hypothetically, sure, let’s say something happened that made Nox go Full Fury on some poor hapless Nif soul (or army, probably an army). I’m gonna picture ... a Incident with a Kingsglaive held area. Nox is out there for like an official inspection or something, one of the Very Few media things he ever agrees to, when there’s a full on attack. While the poor Media People who are live streaming this freak out and the glaive get ready for a slaughter, Nox just- real calmly orders the glaive to Stay In the Base and keep an eye on the media people. Calmly walks out the base gate without so much as a by your leave and starts limp-striding his way toward the Impending Invasion of Death, Axis right at his side, just as calm (Axis knows what’s coming after all). Some glaives try to follow him because Obviously only to smack face first into - a Wall. A genuine magic Wall like the one encircling Insomnia.

-The entire Lucian nation plus whatever non-Lucian channels manage to pick this up get a livestream view of Nox raising a mini Wall around the base to keep everyone safe, then casually strolling out toward the Invasion force and just-

-Decimating it.

-About halfway between the invasion force and the base, Nox stops and raises a hand to the sky, a sword appears in his grip, and everyone present can feel magical pressure suddenly build-build-build until the air turns blue (the Wall keeps everyone inside safe from the intensity of the pressure except Axis, who doesn’t need it, he is Nox’s Shield and Nox will never hurt him). The Nifs release their war Behemoths on the field, gunships are coming in for the kill, and then-

-His sword sweeps down and the world shakes under the force of the pure energy wave that rises from his blade, sweeping across the distance between him and the enemy and either breaking, scattering, or straight up disintegrating anything in its path. An imperial dreadnought splits in half and then breaks into dozens upon dozens of pieces, the war-beasts caught in the path of the wave are just- gone. So are the MT units and gunships.

-Ever seen the upgraded armiger attacks from the Royal Version of FFXV? Yeah, picture those, but cranked up to eleven. Or just picture those and then imagine being an ordinary civilian seeing that for the first time. Ghostly blades whirling around Nox’s form, defending him from bullets and debris only to lash out as literal waves of energy or a death laser.

-Needless to say, Nox destroys that invading force single-handedly in a display not unlike the legends of Ragnarok or Armageddon, all while holding a Wall around the base. He then calmly turns, walks back to the base, asks if everyone is okay, and upon getting the all clear-

-Collapses. Straight up flops over into Axis’s arms while on national live television because someone forgot to eat anything today and spent most of the previous night fretting over nightmares or something (the rest of the world assumes he pushed himself way too far with that display, but really he could have done more if he hadn't already been tired/hungry and Axis knows it).

-For once, the media meltdown isn’t punctuated by frenzy but by a very, very fragile, frightened silence.

-It’s been ... a long time since a Lucis Caelum has Truly unleashed their power on the field and Nox is no ordinary LC.

-Clips of Nox’s stunt circulate for months, are analyzed by historians and doctors and talk show hosts for precedents and health risk and just sheer What levels. Social media ranges from cheering Nox on to snidely wondering why LCs aren’t doing that more often to a huge outpouring of concern for the prince who just fought off a literal army and then collapsed like he’d been decked in the head. The Hunter Corp all pool their resources together to get this idiot kid a care package, Cid probably comes over from Hammerhead to yell at him while Cindy bear hugs and cries all over his clothes.

-In Niflheim ... a lot of people are reevaluating their stance on the war. Because if that is what just one Lucis Caelum can do, then what’s going to happen when there are two of-age princes who are not chained down by the Wall?

-A lot of nobles in Lucis are also reevaluating their stances on the illegitimate prince, because UMMMMMM that’s the kind of thing that only happens in blockbuster dramas, and Nox did it in real life. More than that, he knew he could do it, as evidenced by how calm he was when he gave the order for everyone to stay.

-Lots of internet conspiracy/theory people try to figure out just how powerful Nox is and if he’s an anomaly in the bloodline because seriously can all LCs do that????

-A lot of people, for a lot of different reasons, are very, very scared of Nox now. Either because they still believe that GoT is inbound and that just put the kibosh on a lot of their rebellion daydreams or because Nox is already a wild card and now he’s proven that he’s a supremely dangerous wildcard.

-So basically, still a meltdown, but this one much, much quieter and more reverent.

-Assuming I ever do something like this in Nox versa canon, because I’m not sure I will.

[galahadwilder]

We Break Things Down Just to Build Them Back Up Again, Ch. 1: Stand

We Break Things Down Archive

Marinette is sitting against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, praying for her heartbeat to slow down, when Adrien Agreste finally says something that cuts her heart in half.

Adrien is sitting next to her, his hand on her arm, and for a moment it’s comforting. The way he’s looking at her, with concern, like he cares. He’s once again broken his promise, failed to have her back, and part of her wants to slap him for that but there’s a greater part of her is just happy that she isn’t facing this alone. He’s giving her an ear, even if her racing brain isn’t letting her speak. He’s giving her his time. He’s giving her his touch.

And yet she finds herself guiltily wishing Chat was here instead. Adrien, bless him, so sweet, so kind, is nonconfrontational to a literal fault. He’s a calming presence once things are over, but in the moment he’s completely unreliable.

Chat wouldn’t have let Lila get away with what she said. Chat would’ve ripped into the other girl on her behalf. Actually, come to think of it, so would pretty much anyone else in the class.

She’d been so happy that first time, when Adrien had believed her. Now she’s wishing it had been anyone else. Even Chloé would be better than this. At least if she were to say something it would be some kind of solidarity.

Instead, Golden Boy Adrien has to open his mouth and act like he lives on top of a fairy mountain. "I don’t know why you’re so insistent on going after her,” he says, like he’s the one in the right here, like Marinette is the instigator instead of the classmate who won’t stop lying to everyone. “I mean, yeah, she’s lying, but it’s not like she’s hurting anyone—"

Something in Marinette snaps.

“Not hurting anyone?” she rasps. “Not hurting anyone?”

And all of a sudden, Marinette has had enough. Enough of Adrien Agreste’s simpering, enough of his appeasement, enough of his refusal to stop obvious wrongs. "She’s hurting me, Adrien!” Marinette croaks. “She attacks me every ten minutes! It’s a miracle I haven’t been Akumatized!”

Adrien starts at the word, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility, and Marinette’s rage mounts. What Paris has he been living in for the last year? He, of all people, should know what happens when this kind of injustice festers! But no, this is the boy who still defends Chloé even when she refuses to get better. Even when everything she does causes supervillains to line her wake.

Adrien grabs her hand, and she wants to pull away, but he’s looking at her with that stupid expression on his face again—the be-the-bigger-person, the turn-the-other-cheek, and Marinette realizes she’s sick of it. “If you let it go,” he says, “maybe she’ll stop.”

Marinette feels her veins chill. ”That’s your solution?” she snaps. “Roll over and hope she decides to have mercy?” Adrien, she realizes, isn’t kind—he’s a coward. She’s been passing up her brave and loyal Chat for this?

”I can’t believe I ever thought I was in love with you,” Marinette spits.

Adrien's entire face goes slack. "You... what?" he croaks.

Marinette yanks her hand away from him in disgust, clambering to her feet. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Agreste," she snarls, storming away down the halls of the school.

She thinks she hears him choke, sob, behind her, but she can't be sure if she's imagining it. Still, she lets herself be satisfied, for a moment, that maybe for once Adrien is looking at her and seeing something other than a nervous wreck.

***

It's only once Marinette makes it home that what she's done finally sinks in, and when she pushes through the door to the Dupain-Cheng bakery it's taking everything in her not to burst into tears. She’s ruined everything. The last thread that’s kept her hanging for three weeks now, and she’s broken it herself. She’s going to lose all of her friends, and Adrien is never going to love her, and she’s going to have to go back to being alone again—

Her mother, behind the counter, sees her face and immediately drops her tongs. “Marinette?” she says. “What’s wrong?” Her face twists. “What’s that Lila girl done now?”

Marinette shakes her head, and finally breaks. “It’s—it’s not—it’s not—it’s not—not Lila,” she blubbers, collapsing onto one of the chairs. “It’s Adrien.”

”Oh, honey,” her mother says, coming out from behind the counter. She starts rubbing her daughter’s back, letting her cry herself out.

“Tom?” she yells to the back. “Can you watch the front for a few minutes? Marinette needs me.”

”Of course, Dumpling,” her father calls back. Within a minute he’s come through the door and waved them upstairs.

***

Collapsed onto her mother’s lap in the living room, Marinette—haltingly—tells her everything. Except the Chat Noir bits, of course, those are private. The whole time, her mother doesn’t stop holding her, cooing, and occasionally snarling whenever Lila comes up. The only reason her parents haven’t tried to get Lila expelled yet is because Marinette begged them not to.

When Marinette finishes, her mother is silent for a while before speaking. “I won’t say what that boy is doing to you is right,” she says, finally, “because sweetie, you really do deserve better.” She smiles, rueful. “You know you deserve better, don’t you sweetling?”

Marinette nods. “It—it sounds like there’s a... a ‘but’ coming,” she sniffles.

”Well,” her mother sighs, “it does sound familiar.” She smiles. “Rather like your father, in fact.”

Marinette looks up at her and blinks in confusion.

”You met Roland last week,” her mother says, still massaging her back. “Do you think he was a good parent?”

Marinette shakes her head.

"If there were ever two people who should not have had children," her mother continues, “it was Roland and Gina Dupain. Neither of them was particularly affectionate towards your father.” She smiles. “Oh, I’m sure they loved him well enough—in their own ways—but they never really thought to show it.”

Marinette is staring at her mother now, listening with rapt attention. This is starting to sound a lot like Gabriel, and she thinks she might know where this is going.

”Roland never gave your father any kind of approval, or kindness,” her mother continues. “Everything he said was about the ways Tom was a disappointment. As you can imagine, growing up in a house like that...” She waves her hand. “It does things to people.” She grimaces. “When people can’t get love from their families, they start to think they don’t deserve it. Your father thought that maybe if he acted better, if he acted kinder, if he just did what he was told without complaining, maybe his father would love him.” She grits her teeth. “But a man like that doesn’t ever express love,” she spits. “So things just kept getting worse.”

Marinette peeps in alarm. She’s seen her mother angry before, but the way she’s speaking about her father-in-law... she’s never been this furious.

Her mother smiles down at her. “When I immigrated to Paris,” she says, “things were very hard for me. I was a Chinese immigrant in an unfamiliar and unforgiving culture.” She looks up at the ceiling, soft look on her face. “Your father was one of the few bright spots in my life during that time. He was always so kind. But..." She sighs. "Roland nearly ruined it." Her face grows hard. "The things he would say to me... about me..." She growls. "Your father refused to stand up for me. Kept telling me 'give him a chance, he'll love you.'" She shakes her head. "You know how that turned out."

Marinette nods. Her father disowned, her grandfather unaware of her very existence. Not a particularly happy family dynamic.

Sabine licks her lips. "The truth is," she says, "I nearly left your father over it. I told him I couldn't be with someone who just stood by and let other people treat me like that without saying anything."

"Wait... really?" Marinette whispers, her eyes wide. She'd never known this part of her parents' relationship—she'd always believed they'd known they were soulmates from the start, never had that kind of relationship-ending disagreement.

Sabine nods. "Really," she says. "And he knew I was right—the way his father was acting was unacceptable. So he made the hardest decision he'd ever made in his life and confronted Roland over it."

"And his father disowned him," Marinette whispers.

Sabine nods. "That was a rough night, let me tell you," she says. "But what you have to understand is that the behavior your father learned never just applied to his relationship with his father—it's something he still does with everybody. He still forgets that he's allowed to disagree with me, sometimes." She stares off toward the kitchen, clearly not actually seeing anything. Just thinking. "From what you've told me of Adrien," she says, "Gabriel is much, much worse than Roland ever was. I'm not surprised Adrien has so much difficulty with confrontation."

"Oh," Marinette says. She's known for a while that the image of Adrien Agreste, perfect golden boy, is a lie; she's known that he's shy, and sometimes a little awkward. She never would have pegged him for insecure, though. And she never would have guessed how deeply, deeply unhappy she's suddenly realized he must be. He doesn't allow Chloé and Lila to treat him like that because he enjoys it—he simply doesn't know how to ask them to stop. "He..." she begins, stops, thinks. "Maman, I think he might need help."

"Probably," Sabine says, kissing her daughter on the forehead. "But it doesn't have to be your responsibility to give it to him." She strokes Marinette's hair, humming slightly as she does. "You have a big heart, sweetie, but you need to remember to look after yourself first."

Marinette's barely listening—she's already formulating a plan. Because what is being Ladybug good for if she can't help the people she cares about? "Don't worry, Maman," she says. "I'll be fine." Step one: apologize to Adrien for what she said today. Step two: she's not sure yet, but she'll figure it out when she gets there.

She's gonna teach that boy to stand up for himself even if it kills her.

Remember to follow this fic on my AO3!

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[silencedsonatas]

petra nikonova is an americanized version of her name that she had to assume because of her aunt who is now her guardian.  her aunt is her father’s sister but unlike her dad, her aunt took off from russia at literally the earliest convenience, marrying the first person who could take her far away from russia and all of its corrupted politics and general state of ‘shoddiness’ as she calls it.  her aunt is also a black widow having killed three of her four husbands in the last decade.  her aunt has been married a total of seven times.  the first died naturally, the second and third were divorces.  

her aunt has control of petra’s rather impressive inheritance which is a combination of her father’s business profits, her mother’s (minor) inheritances from the titled side of the family, all of the proceeds of petra’s performances and compositions – she still composes and publishes (she writes mainly pianist pieces though has written a couple of orchestra pieces and is working on an opera off and on though it’s mostly in her head).  her manager still retains a large percentage of her profits though her aunt is trying to fight that ‘on petra’s behalf’.  petra never performs in front of anyone.  ever.  ever ever.  she literally has such stage fright and true terror of performing in front of anyone ever again that she physically freezes and her head spins and she can’t breathe and the walls close in and all of that manner of reaction.  she also still has night terrors regarding performances, regarding her parent’s death, regarding her various suicide attempts.

she has attempted suicide three times.  the first was a year after her parent’s death, approximately at around age fourteen when she took a bucco of sleeping pills with a fifth of vodka and slit her forearms from pretty close to wrist to elbow.  she tried again in the asylum in russia by hanging herself.  a year and a half or so later after being trapped under the aunt’s thumb she overdosed again // still isn’t quite sure herself if it was intentional or not.  she half has the idea that she is immortal, that Death itself doesn’t want her.  she is also incredibly self conscious of the scars on her arms and keeps them covered almost every single moment of the day, waking or not, whether by sleeves, fingerless gloves, that sort of measures.  

in terms of wardrobe she wears a haphazard combination of most of whatever she happens to grab hold of.  she is the epitome of glitter grunge.  she will wear ten dollar jeans with a two dollar tank top from goodwill and a ratty sweater that belonged to her dad for twenty years with six hundred dollar shoes and a twenty thousand dollar necklace and not even think about it / bat an eye or care.  makeup is a constant but it’s just as much a mess and mix.  nails are always kept short to keep from getting in the way of her playing but usually painted (chipped of course) and ink stained.

she is usually a mess of bruises of one kind or another whether it’s from shooting up or getting into a fight or a fist fight with her current fuck boy that got pissed at her for whatever fucking reason under the sun.  she has a horrible horrible horrible horrible history with relationships.  she doesn’t believe in them.  people die people leave people beat her up people abuse her use her take her money steal her drugs lock her up you name it.  she has maybe one or two friends in the mass of humanity and they had better be well used to her absolute bipolar madness that is only made worse with her drug use and addiction of the month.  fickle is her middle name, but let’s be real if you get under her skin and into that one little tiny miniscule part of her heart she will literally fight tooth and nail for you and will do anything to keep you safe (from anybody but herself honestly…) and would literally die if it meant you’d be ok.  this is not something that most people would ever get the chance to see or know but because this is the rp world it’d probably more likely that a larger number of plots will creep into that role because i can…

she also totally needs fuck buddies and enemies and people that abuse the fuck out of her because… again… i can

she is always listening to music.  she reads everything and anything and almost always has a book shoved into her purse or back pocket or backpack.  she speaks at least five or six languages.  she hates math but she’s really good at it but she’ll never admit it.  wickedly intelligent.  never EVER uses contractions, it’s a huge huge huge pet peeve.  always has a russian accent when she speaks english because it pisses off her aunt but she’s absolutely capable of speaking perfect and flawlessly, accent free at her whim.  she’s also got an amazing singing voice, and if you get her drunk or high enough she will serenade you or kick ass at karaoke.  

she loves animals but refuses to keep any because she knows she is entirely incapable of that amount of responsibility.

she has dropped out of school.  she could easily get her ged and even probably test out of a lot of subjects at a collegiate level even in her teen / late teen verse and even without her formal education via public schools or anything.  she did have private tutors with her manager and on tour and such which was a wonderful experience for her because she was so so hungry for knowledge but she can’t stand going to school with the idiots that are the mainstream american teen and she cannot stand the teaching to the lowest common denominators so she just doesn’t bother.  if anyone bothers to ask her aunt says she is being homeschooled with private tutors and what not and, there was some attempt at making that a reality but after her aunt walked in on petra and her tutor banging in the manor’s library, that was discontinued.

on that note as far as sex goes any pretense of being a good girl has never really been a thing for petra.  she was molested and abused by her manager, whom she was given over to at the age of seven when she was being pushed into performing and writing and studying and just very very very much being pushed to excel in every way with her musical abilities.  she saw her parents on very few occasions, holidays and when she was on vacation from classes, and whenever they decided they wanted to come see her perform.  they were not lacking for money by a long shot – her father had seized a number of businesses when everything fell apart and was making a killing financially, her mother was a noble (minor title) – they were just very busy and very focused on their own lives —- which is not to say they didn’t dote on petra, because they did, they just thought they were doing what was best for her by letting her throw herself into her passion.

unfortunately with no other continuous adult supervision, her blossoming mental and emotional instabilities and the control (physical, mental, emotional, financial) that her manager had over her, she never reached out or acknowledged anything in regards to the abuse even after she was abandoned by him and even during her time in the institution and after. ie she’s never told anyone.  her parents died when she was thirteen on the way to a grand premiere performance at a renowned hall (have to do some research to see if i can remember which one i’d settled on).  they were run off the road by another car.  it was believed an accident but it was actually a hit by one of her father’s business partners [ she has never learned this so she blames herself entirely ] and her parents were rushed to a hospital nearby where she was performing.  her manager was informed, but he chose not to inform her until after her portion of the performance.  she arrived at the hospital basically in time to sit with her father for a few minutes before he died.  her mother had died in the interim.

she was institutionalized a year later after her manager gave up his custody of her due to the fact that she would not perform and would not compose and refused to do anything in terms of her music for anyone // combined with the fact that she was now reaching mid-teens, he had no more use for her and dropped her like a hot potato when she tried to kill herself.  

in terms of sexuality as a whole, she gives no cares at all for anything in terms of morality.  she sleeps with anyone she wants, or anyone (mostly) that wants to sleep with her if she can get something out of them, or if she needs a place to crash, or a ride from one end of town to the other, or finds them attractive or is high and doesn’t care.  she’ll sleep with men or women, girls, boys, one, two, many.  the more it hurts, the more she feels the better she likes it, which means especially when she’s high on something like ecstasy or heroin.  she drinks, like all the time, but she laughs it off as saying she’s russian its vodka which means its like americans and water.  

she has scripts for medications for her bipolar depressive disorder and acute anxiety, add, etc. but she really only fills them so she can sell the or for things like her sleep meds when she really needs to crash out she’ll take a handful, she’ll take a handful of her add meds to stay awake and buys scripts for pain meds on a constant basis to level out any other high or crash etc. etc.

she likes sleeping with older men, married ones, married ones with families especially, though she is just as happy to fuck him and his wife if that’s his thing.  she likes fucking angry men too, teen or above, and she definitely definitely pushes everybody’s buttons just daring them to beat the shit out of her and/or have their way with her.  she is the type that can be on the ground, the guy on top of her, fucking her and throttling her / and or literally punching her for sassing off and she’d just laugh and spit the blood back in their faces. she is rarely likely to call anything with a guy a ‘relationship’

she’s definitely not as violent seeking instinctively when it comes to females she’s just as masochistic with them if the opportunity presents itself.  she does tend to be less angsty / violent / sadistic towards anyone of the female persuasion that she sleeps with, and is definitely more likely to have a repeat performance combined with something that resembles a friendship before during and or after the fact.

she has zero problems being somebody’s fucktoy and encourages age gaps in her own relationships but.  if it ever came to her attention that somebody was messing with a kid / their kid / somebody else’s kid (and it probably has given the type of people she usually opts to hang out with) it will not end well.  as in, in different rps over the years, she’s hired hitmen and or people to castrate people sexually abusing children.  physically, she might not hire someone to KILL them but she probably finds a way to encourage a few guys to give the asshole a taste of their own medicine (ironically, unless it’s her aunt who does still physically abuse petra when petra is around and doesn’t do what she wants)

she encourages corruption of self and others, outside of that one area, however and is a hedonist in all things.  despite her roman catholic upbringing / because of her roman catholic upbringing she hates religion and, not surprisingly, thinks that if there is a god he’s an absolute asshole and should basically fuck off and die.  she has a branding of a pentacle on the back on her neck, following the junction of neck and shoulders about three inches high in almost every verse.  she has a multitude of piercings and some tattoos (they tend to vary a lot on verse specific things).  

[backtobasicbellas]

33 zadison. Can you make it angst? 😊

oof. haven’t done angst like this in awhile I hope i did it justice

zadison + “I missed something, didn’t I?”

word count: 1,775

//

Madison comes back to life and doesn’t speak to Zoe.

When she does, it’s a biting comment or quick answers. There’s a lot of eye rolls and scoffs, but there’s never any conversation, and it just about drives Zoe insane.

She doesn’t know what she did; the last time she saw Madison, they were laughing and teleporting around the front yard. It’s one of Zoe’s favorite early memories in the Coven.

(Aside from, you know, impaling herself.

When she’s resurrected, Kyle tells her Madison stormed out upon not being crowned Supreme. She believes him, up until she uses divination because Madison keeps coming up in her dreams and something feels off.

She cries when he’s put the stake, but she can’t forgive him for killing Madison.)

So when she comes back, looking alive as ever with Mallory trailing behind her, Zoe feels emotions hit her like a ton of bricks.

Here’s Madison, who immediately took her arm and forced a friendship upon Zoe’s arrival.

Here’s Madison, who drives Zoe up the will like no one else.

Here’s Madison, the girl who tried to steal her boyfriend but ended up sleeping with both of them.

Here’s Madison, who was endlessly infuriating but oh so powerful to have on your side.

Here’s Madison Montgomery, the cold-hearted bitch that wrecked havoc but was familiar and comfortable all the same to Zoe.

But Madison clearly isn’t going through the same emotional turmoil Zoe’s going through because when her gaze falls to the brunette, her eyes narrow and she sports a cold, nasty glare.

“Where’s your psycho zombie boyfriend?” she sneers.

(Everyone knows not to bring up Kyle.)

Zoe gapes. “I...”

Cordelia fills in, “He was burned at the stake for what he did to you, Madison.”

Madison looks from Cordelia back to Zoe and lifts an eyebrow.

“Nice to know you waited until after I died to care about me,” she says with venom dripping in her tone before walking off, glaring at Zoe as she goes.

And Zoe tries. God, she tries so hard.

Madison moves back into her old room - their room - and Zoe does her best to make sure Madison has everything she needs. She tries to be there for Madison, in case she wants to talk to her or needs anything.

“God, what are you, my guard dog?” Madison snaps at her. “I’m not a fucking baby. I know how to take care of myself.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Zoe tells her, not as meek as Madison remembers her.

“Well knock it off! I don’t need help, especially from you.”

Zoe doesn’t say anything after that, just backs up and leaves the room. It stings, how cruel Madison is being. And she could blame it on Madison’s transition back to life, back to everything she once knew, but that’s not true. Madison is for the most part adjusting just fine, talking with everyone else - even Cordelia and Misty - without a problem in the world.

It seems like Madison has a personal vendetta when it comes to Zoe, and the brunette has no idea what to do about it.

“Maybe you should try asking her,” Queenie shrugs. “Madison’s pretty blunt.”

“I can barely get a sentence out around her,” Zoe groans. “I don’t know what I did!”

Queenie gives her a look. “Your zombie boyfriend y’all were sharing killed her on your behalf.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that! I didn’t want him to do that!”

Queenie only shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re trying so hard. It’s Madison; she’s the most stubborn bitch I’ve met.”

Zoe only grunts in response.

The only time it seems like Madison isn’t bitching at her is at night. There’s panting and crying and whimpers, and at first, Zoe hesitates before she even approaches Madison’s bed. But when Madison sees her, her eyes are wide and she looks so small, Zoe can’t help but crawl into bed and hold Madison until she calms down.

These are the only moments where Madison doesn’t fight her. She lets Zoe wrap her arms around the blonde and stroke her hair.

“You’re here with me,” Zoe murmurs. “This is real, you’re alive. You aren’t in hell anymore.”

And Madison calms down enough to fall asleep before Zoe crawls back into her own bed.

But Zoe can only go on like this for so long. Madison’s attitude and yelling and sneering is becoming too much for her, for someone she has to share a bedroom with.

There was a time where Zoe would’ve genuinely considered Madison a best friend - in a weird, twisted way.

Sure, Madison was an absolute bitch, but there was always something drawing Zoe back to the starlet. She could never cut her out completely, even when she tried to come between her and Kyle, even when she was set on being the new Supreme.

Madison somehow always brought Zoe back to her.

Now, she wonders where that Madison went.

But Zoe’s had enough.

She bursts into their shared bedroom on a mission. Madison looks up from her phone in surprise, then she lets out a scoff.

“Jesus bitch, are you trying to break this old ass house or what?”

“What the fuck did I do to you?” Zoe asks, standing at the foot of Madison’s bed.

Madison rolls her eyes. “What are you going on about now?”

“You are a complete and total bitch to me,” Zoe tells her.

“That’s not new, Sherlock,” Madison deadpans.

Zoe glares at her. “You’re fine with everyone else - hell, you even get along with Misty for the most part. It’s different with me and you know it, so does everybody else. So what the fuck do you think I did to you, Madison? Why are you constantly at my throat for everything?”

Madison sits up in her bed, giving Zoe a hard look.

“Why are you acting like you’d never do anything wrong?” she asks, angry. “You’re not a fucking angel, Zoe! I know that better than anyone!”

Zoe grits her teeth, knows Madison is right, but she’s not letting her get away with this one.

“Don’t change the subject,” Zoe tells her sternly. “What is your problem with me, Madison?”

Madison takes a long look at Zoe, takes in the way her jaw is clenched and she’s leaning forward and how tense her body is. She lets out a scoff a moment later.

“All these years without me and Kyle and you still can’t figure it out?” she asks, giving Zoe a look the brunette can’t quite comprehend.

Zoe furrows her eyebrows then, completely taken by surprise at the mention of Kyle, that Madison would even use his proper name.

“What does this have to do with Kyle?”

Madison groans, looking at Zoe like she’s the most idiotic person on the planet. Zoe kind of wants to strangle her.

“It has nothing to do with him!” Madison exclaims, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It never had anything to do with him.”

Zoe tilts her head, lips twisting as she tries to understand what Madison is telling her.

“What do you mean?”

Madison scoffs, shaking her head. “Jesus Zoe, you’ve always been this fucking dense, haven’t you?”

“Madison...” Zoe says, still not following.

“It was never about Kyle,” Madison tells her quietly. “Never.”

There’s something that shifts in Madison’s eyes then. Zoe thinks there might be vulnerability there, or fear. Madison’s statement sits between them, neither looking away.

Zoe thinks about Madison before she died. She thinks about the way Madison immediately decided they’d be friends, how Madison literally brought her to the fucking morgue because Zoe wouldn’t stop moping about Kyle’s death. She thinks about the first time Madison came back to life, how they spent nights curled up in one bed, Zoe rubbing her back while Madison puked in a bucket. She thinks about how the two of them somehow always had each other’s backs, even if one second ago they’d been screaming. She thinks about how Madison fucked Kyle, and then the moment in the bathroom.

She thinks, just maybe, there’s something she didn’t pick up along the way.

The realization dawns on her face while Madison’s remains unmoved. When she looks back at her roommate, her features drop.

“I missed something, didn’t I?”

Madison snorts, but it’s self-deprecating as she avoids Zoe’s gaze.

“You could say that.”

“You never said anything,” Zoe points out.

“How could I?” Madison asks her helplessly. “We’d met each other for like a day before the bus and after that all you cared about was Kyle.”

Zoe softens, looking at Madison. “You were never just another person to me.”

“Sure felt that way,” Madison murmurs. “Especially since Kyle thought I wasn’t important enough to you to keep alive.”

Zoe sighs, standing in front of Madison now. “Mads, will you look at me?”

“No.”

“Madison.”

Madison resists an eye roll and meets Zoe’s gaze. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says quietly. “If I knew...”

“If you knew, then what Zoe?” Madison asks with a scoff. “Don’t tell me you would’ve ditched Kyle. We both know you were in love with him.”

“He wasn’t the only one I was in love with,” Zoe admits, looking away.

“Don’t feed me that bullshit Zoe, I swear to god-”

“I’m not!” Zoe exclaims, gaping. “Seriously Madison, you can’t ever let yourself have anything?”

“Don’t tell me what I want to hear,” Madison tells her. “You know I’ve never wanted that.”

“Madison please,” Zoe begs. “Can you just listen to me?”

Madison looks visibly upset now, and Zoe’s stomach turns in a wicked way.

“Just go away Zoe,” she says, but it’s not as cold as it usually is.

It’s broken and too soft of a voice to belong to Madison Montgomery, but it’s hers all the same. She crawls back onto her bed, shuffling until she’s under the sheets.

“Leave me alone, please.”

Zoe stands there, defeated. She thinks her heart is breaking all over again, and this time it’s different from Kyle or Charlie or anything else.

She is coming apart by watching Madison do the same.

“Madison...”

“Zoe please.”

Madison’s tone is desperate, her voice cracks and Zoe knows they’re really in it now.

“O..okay,” she finally says, stepping away. “I...I’ll go.”

She walks out of the room, looking back to see Madison’s shoulders shaking and it kills Zoe to know that this is her doing, that she’s undone Madison in a way no one else in the house has before.

She doesn’t know if they’ll come back from this, if they can move forward.

But she knows she’ll keep trying.

[sanrionharbor-blog]

On GOT 8x04

(Hey, if you liked this episode, by all means go on doin’ your thing and just ignore the rest of this post lol. There’s some silver linings at the end tho). 

D&D’s Approach To Character Development:

Seriously though, this all just felt like edge-lording to me. 

Ooh, Arya’s an Action Girl. There’s no way she has room for anything else in her life but weapons and brooding. (Look, it doesn’t have to be romance or whatever. But a character either gets what they want and not what they need, or vice versa. I guess Arya got what she wanted--the freedom to not be tied down by noble lady obligations--at the cost of any new or developed or deepening relationships, or hobbies, for that matter). 

Then: let’s make Jaime contradict a few seasons of character development so we can rake in the melodrama. (Let’s be clear--I never thought he got over Cersei that easily. But make him the guy who sleeps with a girl and then leaves her hanging? Like, couldn’t he have approached a romance--been given a chance to kiss Brienne, or embrace her, but he pulls back at the last minute? Nope, he’s got to take her virginity and then flee south a week or whatever later. Sure, why not, that’s edgy. Ugh, gross). 

I love Sansa--but I didn’t like the way she was written here. Her scene with the Hound was a nice touch--I know they’ve got a unique bond in the books and I’m glad they addressed it. But she’s acting icy towards everyone for no real reason. Why do Sansa and Arya never talk to Jon before they speak up at counsels? Sansa’s smart. Sansa’s kind. She can be both of those things; they do it with Tyrion (even if they’ve watered down Tyrion in the last few seasons). (Still love Sansa, but I can’t make out exactly who D&D think she is and that makes me angry on her behalf). 

They did a great job humanizing everybody in the last episode only to introduce all this iciness between everybody again. Sansa vs Everybody, for one. Arya vs Everybody, for another. Bran vs Everybody, as usual. 

Even though I don’t want to see Dany on the throne, can her advisers really blame her for wanting to proceed with her plan against King’s Landing now that she’s literally out of options? Is this how they’re going to write a Dark/Mad Dany? One that’s not actually dark or mad, just making the best of bad decisions?

Now, a bad episode DOES NOT equal a bad arc. I’m cautiously optimistic for the conclusion as a whole, but this season DOES feel rushed. We have two episodes left. We have a lot of character arcs to cover. Are they just not gonna arc? 

Meh/10, will probably have to watch again to make sense of things. 

P.S. On the other hand, I don’t really see a “Sansa Manipulating Tyrion” arc here. All she did was tell him about Jon’s parentage. Which, incidentally, is probably what Sophie Turner was talking about when she said Sansa will have to “go behind a few people’s backs” to protect her family. 

P.P.S. I don’t think Jon would make a great leader either so I’m up-in-the-air about the Iron Throne at this point. Like, Sansa would be cool but doesn’t want to leave the North and D&D are just using her as a gossip girl when she could be so much more. 

P.P.P.S. Will I still be bringing popcorn to next week’s episode. You better believe it. 

[hufflepuff-ravenclaw-reviews]

Proven Innocent Season 1 Episode 12

As you might imagine, following the end of the previous episode, Bellows goes in front of the press to crow about this arrest.

Meanwhile, Madeline is being harassed in prison by the guards who are denying her any basic rights beyond clothes, food, and a bed. And there's little that she can do about it.

Violet goes on her podcast to thank everybody for their support of Madeline. As you might have noticed, but she's got a lot of people who support her, and not just because she helped them or their loved ones get out of jail. (Like the trans/drag queen community.)

However, this then segues into their actual case du jour... because yeah. We're not just going to wrap up the Madeline Scott case in a single episode. Le sigh.

Their client: he was brought into the country from south America when he was three years old by his mother after local gangs brutally murdered his father. He was arrested for having killed his teacher.

The main evidence against him was the teacher's laptop that was found in his possession. However, a witness says that the laptop had been a gift as a reward for all of his hard work. The police “accidentally” erased the hard drive, but the witness insists that the laptop had been set up to send and receive text messages, which corresponds to the family's cell phone bill.

As this witness is testifying, the victim's husband stands up and screams about how they're making a mockery of his dead wife. The judge gets angry and almost kicks him out.

Easy later goes to see Madeline in jail. As you might imagine, everybody feels bad. Easy feels guilty for not having seen this coming, even though Madeline assures him that how could they have known what Bellows was plotting? Madeline just feels defeated, because she's back in prison, even after all these years. She clearly wants to think about Easy's current case (which is the only one that they couldn't postpone) in order to take her mind off from her own awful situation, but Easy tells her to focus on her own situation.

She asks if Levi was arrested, too, but Easy checked and there's no record of this. This leads Bodie to break into Levi's apartment. Literally all of his things are there... including a wallet with a driver's license. (Although it's not exactly that much of an indication, as he could have another wallet and license... Slim but it's possible.)

Bodie then goes to see Sarah, the chick that Levi had spoken to about the cult, since she was the last person who actually saw him. She doesn't want to talk while at her work, but promises to meet them at Sparrow Ridge tomorrow, her day off.

Meanwhile, Easy gets a witness to the crime to testify. He was a neighbor, who had seen the client going into the teacher's house that morning. However, the timeline doesn't match up. See, the teacher was murdered around 4 AM, and who gets up to do yard work at 4 AM? Like a normal person, the witness was asleep, and saw the client going into the house around 7 AM. The judge agrees to release the client on bail, but as they're leaving the courtroom, ICE agents come and arrest him.

Easy goes to the immigration courts, where he's appalled to see a four year old being questioned by the judge. As you might imagine, this four year old literally has no clue what's going on, only that his parents aren't there. (It's never stated if the little boy even speaks English, but you have to admit that it is a possibility.) Easy is disgusted by this, and steps in to offer “council” on the little boy's behalf. The judge is quick to jump onto the “WTF am I even doing?” train as soon as Easy questions him about this, and asks that the prosecutor look to find the boy's parents.

Meanwhile, Bellows is continuing to celebrate his win. Even though an arrest does not make him attorney general. But he's having celebratory drinks in his office anyway. Isabel then comes up to him and says that she can't be second chair without letting Levi know that he'd been set up. (It had been what Bellows had promised her if she did this for him.) However, it's then that Bellows shows his hand: he never intended for Isabel to be second chair on the case. In fact, he literally fires her on the spot. She's furious, and asks what's stopping her from telling Easy about all of this. He says that he'd have her law license for doing something like this, and implies that it might have been all her idea in the first place. He then tries to soothe her by asking her to wait until all of this is over, and then she'll have a fancy job working for the attorney general. (And damn, I really hope that this comes back to bite him in the ass.)

Back in immigration court, both Easy and the prosecutor for the case fight for the client du jour to remain in this country. The judge finds it odd that the prosecutor would be willing to fight for somebody that he believes is a murderer, but the prosecutor says that he's not going to just give up. He goes on to say that the gang who killed the client's father only formed because USA keeps shipping violent criminals back to south America, and doesn't want to feed into any more violence. (Although, if this is the case, then why didn't they ship the client back? He'd been convicted of a crime. I'm confused as to how that works.) The immigration prosecutor says that the client is convicted and violent, but since he's currently sitting in prison... He's not exactly much of a danger to society at large now, is he?

Wren goes to visit Madeline in prison. Madeline feels insanely defeated, and she lets her emotions get the better of her with Wren, since she knows exactly what it feels like to be in prison with little to no hope. Wren is quick to tell her not to go down that thought rabbit hole.

In court, Easy says that he has new evidence of other suspects. However, Bellows continues to show his bias towards Madeline to the point where I have no idea why anybody is letting him anywhere near this case in the first place. Like damn, this guy has a clear and obvious vendetta against Madeline. Easy calls Bellows out on his bullshit, stating that this is nothing more than a publicity stunt so that he can get elected... which it 100% is. Let's not lie about this. The judge eventually says that she'll hear Easy's evidence in closed court, and determine if it's enough to move forward with his defense. She gives him three days.

Later, Bellows calls Heather in both to ream her up for hiding about this cult... but also to prep her. She defends her actions as a teenager, and says all of this nonsense about spiritual enlightenment. Which sounds literally like somebody in a cult would say. However, Heather also insists that all they did was “hang out” and “take drugs”. Maybe they had sex with the guy, but he apparently vanished the day before Rosemary was killed. At least, according to Heather. Bellows is still insistent that Madeline is guilty as fuck-all, though, and refuses to even remotely consider literally any other possibility. Which makes him scary as a lawyer, because he refuses to be objective about anything. (And if he's this emotional about the Scott case, what else did he push forward with his gross agendas?)

Meanwhile, Sarah meets with the legal team at Sparrow Ridge. She tells them that when it was in use as their cult hang out, it was obviously filled with stuff and not just... gross mattresses and cobwebs. She repeats what she'd already told Levi, but with more detail: Robbie would give them all drugs, and then they'd have sex with him. Sometimes individually, but sometimes as a group/with other girls. Heather was the favorite until Rosemary came along. Sarah only joined late in the game. The legal team presses her for any information that she can give them about Robbie, like what his full or actual name might be. However, she doesn't know much. It's one of those things “looking back, there were so many red flags. But as a teenager, it was literally the best thing ever!” She does offer up one bit of important information: Heather is the one who “found” him, and she found him through such-and-such church.

Later, Easy goes back in court... with more trouble with ICE. The witness who said that the kid was seen entering the victim's house at 7 has been deported. Because of course he has. He'd testified earlier, but the judge won't allow that testimony to come into play. The prosecutor denies having turned the witness into ICE.

Easy later bitches about this to Bodie, when Bodie gets a call from his girlfriend; he forgot to pick the kid up from school. He rushes down there, and finds the kid talking with a woman who introduces herself as the druggie mother. She says that she's not supposed to see her son, and whines that she's been clean for 10 months. Bodie tells her that there's nothing that he can do and that she should take it up with the courts.

This leads to Bodie fighting with his girlfriend about this. She says that he's clearly taken with his sister's charms, but she's actually just a horrible person. She's insanely worried that if her sister gets anywhere near the kid... poof. He'll be kidnapped, and then that'll be the last anybody sees of him. Bodie is quick to assure her that he's going to help her fight to retain her custody of the kid, which calms her down immensely.

Back with Bellows, his political sugar daddy complains that reopening the Rosemary case and retrying Madeline makes everybody look not only bad, but also unhinged. And despite the fact that he's the one who pushed Bellows to do this... he's starting to have more than a few regrets about the entire thing.

Madeline and Easy track down the lady who once ran a ministry with this Robbie fellow. That “church” is gone now, which she blames on Robbie himself. She doesn't seem surprised at anything that they tell her, including that he might have murdered a teenage girl. However, she said she signed an NDA. Easy says that those are void if a member of the party dies. But she smiles and says “the devil never dies”. She goes on to say that Robbie almost ruined her life once, and she's not going to let him do it again. The only thing that she has to offer is the name “Robert Carter”. Which isn't exactly a unique name, but it's something.

They go back to the office, where they're quick to notice a few things about their case du jour. First off, the crime scene was ransacked, which led police to believe that it was a robbery. There were broken things everywhere. However, what happens when you knock a lot of things over? It's loud. And what do people not like at 4 AM? Hearing their neighbors being loud. No noise complains from any of them. They look at the crime scene photos, which... now it's painfully obvious that they're all staged to look awful, but to not make a lot of noise.

Bodie then offers up an alternate: the husband was away some 200 miles on a business trip at the time. However, it's probable that he drove back into town in about three hours, took two hours to murder his wife and stage the scene, and then drive back in another three hours in time to show up for the conference breakfast. He's about to go see if it's possible, when he suddenly remembers Madeline and her case. She insists that he go. This leads her into saying that she doesn't want for them to focus on her WHEN she's convicted, and to focus on getting other innocent people out from jail. The others are quick to point out that it's not going to happen!!

So Bodie sets off on his “road trip”, and tries to hit up the gas stations along the way and ask if the people working there have seen the victim's husband. He finally strikes payday at one gas station.

Meanwhile, Madeline goes to talk to Linda, the gothic chick. She's scared about everything, as previously mentioned by Levi. She confirms the story that Heather had previously told Bellows (but that they don't know about) that Robbie had vanished before Rosemary was murdered, and then that was the last they saw of him. She agrees to testify, if only because she feels like she needs to right some wrongs.

So Easy gets this gas station attendant on the stand, who easily is like “I know that guy”. The prosecution asks how he remembers that man, when the attendant admitted himself that he probably gets 100 customers a day. However, the attendant has a weird story to tell: the man got gas, and then drove off with the pump still in his car. It wrecked the pumping stations. Which... yeah. I think that I'd remember a fucknugget like that.

The husband tries to leave, but the judge is like “I don't think so.” She then releases the client. The prosecutor tells Easy that he'll work on the client's dreamer status being returned to him.

And finally, the part that we were all waiting for... Well, sort of. Easy's evidence hearing. Bellows objects to Easy's use of the word “cult”, however, Madeline is quick to point out that the former church Robbie ran (with that lady from earlier) is defined as a church. Easy also enters the sworn affidavits of Linda and Sarah into evidence. The judge doesn't quite buy it, especially because everybody is pretty damned sure that Robbie is currently no longer among the living. However, she's a little more willing to listen to what Easy has to say when he mentions that Robbie not only gave the girls drugs, but they were some intense drugs, and then he had sex with them. Which not only goes back into the cult thing, but also about the affidavits. The judge is satisfied with this, and allows Easy to present this theory at a new trial. Easy also brings up the fact that Linda admits that she lied on the stand at the original trial. Bellows starts to look more than a little panicked as he realizes that his entire case is quickly crumbling. The judge herself encourages Bellows to “quit while he's behind”, but Bellows is clearly going to go kicking and screaming until all charges against Madeline are completely and utterly put to bed once and for all.

Bellows later calls Madeline to his office to offer her a deal. But since she's innocent, she refuses. He then plays his trump card: he has Levi in protective custody, because he's a key witness.

[blairtrabbit]

Thoughts on Goddamn Voltron

1. The treatment of Shiro and Adam as a couple was the stupidest shot at “representation” i think I’ve ever seen and it honestly made me angry. We don’t know anything about Adam. We don’t know anything about him but his name and that he possibly has some sort of relationship with Shiro. We are never even allowed to see them physically touch (because this would be gross I suppose) and when Adam is killed off immediately in the initial invasion there is no emotion to it other than he was someone we were supposed to care about because Shiro cared about him. Or ...so its suggested. Not only is Shiro denied any sort of emotional catharsis after being forced to be stoic and endure unimaginable amounts of physical and mental trauma there is no one waiting for him to come home. They are killed for absolutely no reason aside from creating some bizarre boyfriend in the refrigerator for a character who certain has enough anger at the Galran empire that he doesn’t need anymore. If Adam was introduced to show Shiro was gay then that failed. If Adam was introduced to heighten the stakes that failed too. Adam was created to die for no damn reason and unless he somehow appears in season 8 this kind of shit queer-baiting is un-acceptable...hell even IF he comes back who cares? we aren’t even given the chance to know him as a person so whats to come back? Sidenote: Don’t make Shiro sick with some terrible wasting disease and then NEVER mention it again. What the SHIT. 2. The treatment of Lance is unimaginably cruel and I don’t understand it. In season three Lance proves himself to be a mature member of the team and not only does he help Allura who took his lion he becomes Keith’s right hand after a rocky start. He has shown multiple times that he is vulnerable, once to Keith’s face, and yet his leader and his team constantly question his choices and insult him. It went beyond ribbing this season. It felt like everytime there was a chance for the writers to do it they stuck in a Lance barb. I kept expecting a breakdown a moment where he finally defended himself, walked away or told them that he was tired of it. But that moment never happened. Instead the strong right hand of voltron just takes it and continues to do his job. No matter how many great shots or encouraging comments he makes he never gets fucking complimented. Also the writers seemed more determined then ever to give him absolutely no arc or focus. Which leads me too- 3. Why the hell did Hunk have Lance’s story arc. Theres this thing in writing called “setup and payoff” Its a super simple concept that all writers,especially in film and television, know how to use. You set up a concept early and later on it pays off with an emotional revelation or a character change. In seasons one two and three...even four? Lance was the only one on the crew besides Pidge who talked about his family. We saw them in his memories. he had a scene with Coran where he talked about missing earth. He talked about his mom and so on. That was his starting point and when he gets back to earth it should have been his family in the camps, his speech about being angry about coming back to a peaceful earth and a closed end to his talk with Keith about being a leader and how he respects him as one back in season 3. Having Keith compliment his bravery would cement him as his right hand the person hes SUPPOSED to be closest to on the team. Hunk had no set up for this. He never mentions his family or how much he misses them. He talks about food but for some reason he was given the ending arc that Lance EARNED but wasn’t given. In fact it feels like it was even written for Lance but was changed because they goddamn hate him and decided he doesn’t get an arc fuck you. 4. Hey. Hey Voltron. Its called fucking character development.  If you wanted to make Allura and Lance have a relationship you can’t make them blush in ONE EPISODE and call it development. Why don’t you cut down on the 90 fucking minutes of brain melting action sequences and put in some more character development. You can’t just dedicate the first half of your season to some goofy (lance abusing) comedy then spend the last half in one constant exhausting battle and expect us to give a shit about the cadets or anyone you introduce on earth. To me the stand out episode this season was the one where everyone is floating in space. They had to...INTERACT with each other but even this episode felt empty because Keith was the only one allowed to act out...AGAIN. Where was Lances righteous anger? Or even Allura’s? Why is Hunk stepping into this role as mediator all the sudden? What even lead to that? Was he literally just written into the Lance roles? If you wanted to tear the group down to have them be built back up then you have to do so on equal footing and it felt....tame. Like you didn’t want the kids to worry too much. Stress makes people act in cruel ways sometimes and overcoming it is a part of good character development. Instead it was just some lame foreshadowing about the deux ex machina that was lion summoning. It had so much potential-SO MUCH.

5. Not everybody has to end up in a fucking relationship. Axca? Seriously? Man are you gonna crank out some romance bullshit in season 8 aren’t you voltron? Is that what your gonna do? Make sure everyone gets a set of corresponding genitalia to wrap everything up in a nice straight bow? I’m sure you’ll give Shiro some kind of significant other right? Or maybe just have him smile at a dude ala live action Beauty and the Beast because that's what representation looks like in 2018. 6. Coran not getting to build the spiritual successor of his grandfathers work is kinda bullshit.

He spent literally every season waxing lyrical about how great his pop pop was and how much he wanted to be the one to build something like he did and then the castle is destroyed and I’m like oh man so cool Coran is gonna get his wish.Thats so emotionally rewarding that after all the hero-worship Hes gonna have the opportunity to build a new castle even better than the one his grand-oh -no...ok Sam did it. Yeah ok.

7.YOU CAN’T SPEND ONE EPISODE ON EARTH BEING DESTROYED AND SHOW MAYBE THREE PEOPLE AND EXPECT ANYTHING TO HAVE EMOTIONAL WEIGHT. Hey, remember the movie Independence day? Not a great movie but it actually felt like the world was being invaded. It felt like peoples lives were being interrupted on a large scale and it accomplished this by showing the invasion from multiple pov’s worldwide. Would that have been so hard? Maybe show a little girl at school seeing a Galra ship. A man in Africa? A mother in Russia? Just quick shots. Thats all you need. A few establishing shots to show that people are experiencing something foreign and terrifying. I know its a kids show and you gotta what...keep it Y-7 but the Galra literally killed thousands and thousands of people-possibly millions you can’t just gloss over that. STAKES CAUSE TENSION. WITHOUT STAKES OR JUSTIFICATION A BATTLE IS EMPTY AND POINTLESS.OH ON THAT NOTE. 7. THE BATTLES IN THE LAST EPISODES BECOME RIDICULOUSLY BORING AND REPETITIVE. You can tell what the writers wanted to write. They wanted to write whole scenes where people star trek groaned in chairs and shouted about how much time they had.Because of the season lack of setup or stakes buildup in the previous episodes theres no tension whatsoever. Do I care about the people of earth? No I haven’t even seen them. I care about Shiro and the mains ...not even the cadets. I haven’t seen them interact enough with each other to even establish their personalities. So if the whole earth fries eh...I care more if Shiro is ok because i’ve gotten to know him over time. If the entire battle was to save Shiro from a falling ship (HOW THE FUCK DID HE SURVIVE THAT BTW I GUESS BEING A CLONE MADE HIM IMMORTAL) It would have more weight to it than the entire Hour long clusterfuck that was the battle for Hunk’s Parents, literally the only humans we care about. 8. WORLDBUILDING? HOW ABOUT FUCK YOU. Wow...so WW3 huh. That sounds interesting Voltron you wanna...no? Alright so...Russia is still a country this far in the future? Is China still communist or? Hey...why is this lady the queen of the Garrison? Why is her position so important? Who funds the Garrison? Is it the United States? The UN? Is it an international organization? Who pays the bills? The funding must come from some government who would be curious why you asked for millions of dollars towards all these bizarre supplies that could be used to build the biggest ship ever made.Why is Admiral Sanda god? She keeps threatening to go over their heads in the chain of command but that means that SHE has to report to someone? WHo?? THE PRESIDENT? SOME KIND OF WORLD LEADERSHIP COUNCIL? I know this shit is hard but come ON. Earth is NOT like these alien planets Voltron has been on that have a centralized monarchy or singular race with one central government. If Sanda is worried about causing wars and global panic thats fine but shes the one commiting treason by not reporting to her own superiors and letting the leaders of the free world make decisions on behalf of their own people. One person can’t make all the decisions we call that LAAAAAAAAZZZZYYYYYY. Oh and about Admiral Sanda? 9. Admiral Sanda is the worst villian Voltron ever faced Why did you try and give her a redemption arc? Every decision she made was stupid every choice was just...so dumb. She betrayed everyone and her level of power kept making me go...why...is she the queen of earth? When she died I was like good. What a dumbass. Don’t try and redeem someone who did nothing good in the first place especially if you never established enough world building to show she might have been correct. We can’t just trust TELL you have to SHOW us. 10. If you think the racism against immigrants is bad now I can’t even imagine the civil wars when actual aliens just invite themselves over. 11. Thanks for fucking up our tide systems by parking a fucking Balmera directly in our atmosphere assholes. In conclusion:THANKS I HATE IT.

[percontaion-points]

Vanish chapters 21 & 22

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 21

“I’ll see what I can do about your friend. What I can find out . . .”

For a moment, I can’t think who he means. My friend? Then I get it. He means Miram.

HOW DO YOU FUCKING FORGET ABOUT WHY IT IS THAT YOU'RE GOING BACK TO THE OTHER DRAKI?!

Severin moves between us and snatches hold of my arm. His fingers are long and thick, covering almost all of my bicep, and I’m reminded that he’s the alpha of our pride for a reason. The largest and strongest draki among us. Someday the alpha will be Cassian, but until then it’s Severin. And I’m at his mercy.

Hey, just as a reminder but “alpha” is not synonymous with “overbearing douchebag who hurts women just because he's in charge”.

“Mom, it’s me,” I say. “I’m back. I’m okay.”

At last her lips move. She murmurs my name. The odor hits me. I glance to the nightstand, spot the bottle of verda wine.

Severin snorts. “Doubt she even realized you were missing.”

I glance up at his hard face, then look back at Mom. Have I done this? Made things so hard she’s drowned herself in a bottle?

The only person responsible for Zara's current alcoholism is Severin.

“You’re no deviant. Severin is not thinking rationally. They’ll see that. No one has been punished unjustly before.”

The problem is that Severin is to be the judge. His opinion about Jacinda is already clouded from Zara taking her away. He's probably already decided what Jacinda's punishment should be, and the trial hasn't even started.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so alone. Whatever happens, I know I’ve got my family. This fortifies me, makes me think I can handle anything.

Chapter 21 summary: Will drives Jacinda as close to the draki village as they think they can get. He says that he'll try to find out more info about Miriam and come back in a week. Says that Jacinda is worth it.

She goes to the village, where she's greeted by Severin and Cassian. Severin is beyond angry that Miriam was taken by hunters, and thinks that it's awfully convenient that Jacinda is the only one who managed to get away. He forces her back to her family home, where they're greeted by Tamra and Azure. He then says that Jacinda is to stand public trial in an hour, and that Cassian will ensure that she doesn't run off before then. Tamra assures Jacinda that the others will override Severin's irrationality in regards to his missing daughter, but I doubt that. However, knowing that Tamra and Azure are on her side helps Jacinda feel better.

Chapter 22

Others are out, walking in a steady stream in the same direction. They stare openly at me through the sifting curls of mist—even point to me. They don’t seem to care that I can see them doing this. And why should they? In their eyes, I’m the one who’s done something wrong and been called before the pride to face public judgment.

It's not even Severin; literally everybody in town has already made up their minds about Jacinda without listening to a thing she has to say.

Whatever happens in the coming chapter, I just know that it's going to be nothing but a kangaroo court.

Severin stands there behind the stone railing. The half-dozen elders are there, too, puppets behind him. I’m no fool. The public will decide nothing. Whatever happens will be his call.

Like I said:

1) Severin's judgment is too clouded, but here he is

2) A kangaroo court

“[Zara] is banished and must leave pride grounds at once. From this day hence, she shall no longer be considered a draki and must make her way in the human world.”

Y'all realize that this is exactly what Zara wanted... right?

“I’m certain I can get your sister to manifest. She’s so untried. It would be an easy thing to inspire fear in her. So what’s it going to be? You? Or Tamra? Either way someone’s getting her wings clipped today.”

Wow yeah, that'll compel obedience from everybody, and totally not make Tamra want to leave, too.

“An alternative to the wing clipping has been proposed and deemed acceptable.”

[…]

“Should Jacinda agree to enter into bonding on this day with Cassian she shall be spared. . . .”

I'D RATHER HAVE MY WINGS 100% CHOPPED OFF, THANKS.

Maybe I’ve been kidding myself to think that I can control anything— that I could ever avoid the fate the pride chose for me long ago.

Chapter 22 summary: Tamra and Azure walk with Jacinda to the town hall. Once there, as I said, Severin takes charge, offers up zero proof of anything that he's claiming Jacinda did, offers her zero chance to testify on her own behalf, and instantly decided to punish not only Jacinda, but also to banish Zara from the village forever. Despite Jacinda saying that there had been the other “town elders” present with Severin, not one of them says anything about any of this.

Jacinda is told that her wings will be clipped, and she's told to manifest. When she refuses, Severin says that he'll clip Tamra's wings instead. Jacinda transforms, but then Cassian shows up. Just as Severin is about to clip her, he stops. He says that he and Cassian have come up with an alternative punishment, and that is that Jacinda will immediately bond herself with Cassian. Again, not one single person says anything about any of this.

[if-u-seek-jamie]

A cry for help? No... I have the self control and I’m safe.  A cry for love and attention? Yeah, that sounds more like me lol I do way too much for attention.

This whole post is a major TW/CW for self-harm, depression, anxiety, BPD (and FPing), PTSD, mental illness, suicide, hospitalization, sex, sexual assault, abuse/intimate partner violence, trauma, substance abuse

I’m pouring my heart out and opening up more than I usually do on Facebook.  I’m feeling... desperately alone and misunderstood these days.  I basically am gonna spill everything going on in my brain EXCEPT for things that I am still ashamed of and keep secret.  LOL yeah, with everything I am comfortable being open talking about, I STILL have secrets.  Can you believe that?!  Me neither...  I’m also going to talk about some specific people in this post, as well, but as per my style of hiding/protecting identities, a lot of them are gonna be named “Bobbert,” “Bobbert 2,” “Bobbert 3,” etc., regardless of gender, because that is what I call everyone when hiding their identities.  There will also be names that I don’t protect, like Sara and Ivan, etc.

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I have pretty good self-control lately.  I don’t know, I don’t think I will actually hurt myself.  But wow, I keep getting the urge to.

Wow, I’ve barely posted anything but selfies on here in ages.  wh00ps.

I’m pretty open about the fact that I have mental illnesses on Facebook.  I’m an open book, everybody knows.  But I think I keep it kind of tame, and sometimes make jokes about it.  Like “lol I think I have a makeup addiction hahahaha can’t believe the people at Ulta don’t know who I am by now!”

It’s not a joke, though.  I have no idea how to cope with life.  I just.... overspend and overspend and overspend on makeup.  I go to Ulta just about every day if I don’t have the late shift at work, if I don’t have plans.  I’m just like “I need to get out of the house and makeup makes me feel pretty and makes me feel happy so I’m going to use that as an excuse to leave the house and go buy more.”  And I can’t stop.  And when I’m at home, I spend a good amount of time watching makeup videos on YouTube and reading through threads in Makeup groups on Facebook to come up with other products to buy.  I just cannot stop.

And eating.  I just keep overeating.  “I’ll save leftovers for lunch at work tomorrow.  hahahaha jk I’m gonna eat the whole thing now.  And then I’m gonna cook more food.  Midnight runs to the supermarket for some ice cream?  You bet!”  The binging is definitely real.  I’m glad I haven’t relapsed on the purging, though I get the urge.

I keep getting the urge to cut myself.  It has been over a year since I’ve done it and I hope I don’t give in.  But, oh my god, I have had the biggest urge to do that lately.  And I accidentally cut myself shaving last week while I was having these urges the most and that just made me want to do it more, but I also think it satisfied the urge at the same time?  I don’t even know.  I’ve also gotten the urge to get high but I refuse to ever let myself fall back down that hole.

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When I began high school, I was bitter.  I was very very bitter about the last couple years in my life.  These two girls...  We’ll call them Bobbert and Bobbert 2...  They bullied me relentlessly in middle school for being gay and fat.  It got so bad, I had to get the school’s police officer involved.  It was when I first felt suicidal.

And then that last summer before high school, I was the chosen target of my bunk at summer camp.  I was the chosen target of their bullying.  Why?  I have no idea.

So when I started high school?  I was bitter.  I’m not going to protect names this time.  I met this girl Audrey.  My instinct was to stay away from her because she looked like an angry person and she reeked of cigarette and marijuana smoke.  But we were assigned to be “phone buddies” in our literature class because everyone else was partnered up and we were the only two left.  And then she was in my gym class.  And somehow, we ended up becoming best friends.  I thought she was the coolest thing since sliced bread.  I really wanted to impress her, I really wanted her to like me and think I was cool.  She literally taught me what I should and should not like.  And she was... mean.  If you did’t agree with her on things, she would be mean to you about it... but it was always played off as a joke, and you had to laugh along with it, all the while seeking her approval.  But I thought that was admirable.  I thought it was so cool and badass and I wanted to be like that.  I became a meaner person when I was best friends with her.  And, a couple of my close friends know this, and it’s weird for me to admit on something that I am posting publicly...  But I eventually had convinced myself that I was in love with her.  She was my first BPD “favorite person.”  I was very codependent on her and I convinced myself that I was in love with her and I would do literally anything and everything to try to impress her or make her happy, or get her attention.

So when I went to her house and we met up with all her friends and they all decided to get high?  I wanted to try it.  And it was fun!  But after that?  Suddenly, every time I went to hang out with her, all she wanted to do was get high.  Every single time.  So I went with it.  I always just did whatever Audrey wanted to do.  And then she started hanging out with Alex (who she only became friends with because Alex and I were friends since like Kindergarten or first grade or something, but whatever).  Audrey and Alex had multiple classes together that year, and I had no classes with either of them.  So they grew closer with each other.  So then all three of us started hanging out together, and instead of just me and Audrey, it became me and Audrey and Alex.  And then we started doing harder drugs.  It got to the point when we were doing MDMA on a regular basis and my serotonin levels were shot because MDMA kills the serotonin in your brain.  I’d also steal medications from people, including morphine, which is a form of heroin.  Sometimes, we’d take pills even when we didn’t know what they were.  My brain was shot.  I was at the lowest I had ever been.  To top it off, Audrey and Alex were getting closer and closer and I was slowly but surely feeling shut out and neglected, like I didn’t matter.  One morning at school, I met up with Audrey and Alex and Audrey’s other friends in the morning before 1st block like we always did, and everyone stood in a circle and I was literally closed/blocked out of the circle, standing on the outside of the circle.  Ignored, unnoticed, neglected.  I decided that was the last straw, I lost it.  My FP didn’t give a FUCK about me.  All she fucking cared about was drugs and getting high and Alex.  But I was literally nothing in her eyes.  So I got home from school, and both my parents were at work and my brother was staying after school and my sister was away at college, and i was all alone.  So I grabbed a bottle of pills and chucked some down and I tried to kill myself because “She will notice me and care about me when I am dead.”  I was hospitalized.  When I came back home, I found out that nobody even noticed I was missing.  The only reason Audrey noticed - after a few days - was because my friend Jessica messaged her, “Do you know what happened to Jamie?  Didn’t you see her post on tumblr?  She took a bunch of pills and I don’t know what happened.”  When I got home, Audrey’s solution to my depression was just to get high.

Anyway, the reason I don’t protect Audrey or Alex’s names comes up now.

That summer was the first time I drank alcohol.  Like, yeah, I do all these drugs but I have never drank alcohol LOL go figure, right?  Anyway, we got our drug dealer, David...  he also had a fake ID so we got him to buy us alcohol.  And since he got the alcohol, we let him drink with us.  I’m drunk off my ass for the first time in my life.  David sees this “opportunity.”  He literally asks Audrey for her permission to take me off to a separate room and do whatever he pleases with me.  And she “consents” on my behalf.  So I’m laying there, 16, drunk, pants off, not really sure what’s going on.  And then I feel something rubbing against me.  And I guess I wasn’t as drunk as David hoped I would be.  Because I realized what he was doing.  And I flipped out.  I was not about to let him have sex with me.  He goes “Shh, shhh!  Stop freaking out or your friends are going to think something is happening!”  But I don’t really drop it so he gives up and we go back to join my “friends.”  Audrey literally gave me up to a rapist, and Alex was complicit in this.

That wasn’t the last time it happened.

A few months later....  It’s my 17th birthday.  I go to the zoo with my family, but then instead of going home with them after, they drop me off at Audrey’s house so I can have a “birthday sleepover” with my friends.  We smoke.  We take some pills that we don’t even know what they are.  We meet up with David again so that he can get us alcohol again.  This time, he’s got a couple friends with him... Jeff and Ivan.  Jeff was like 23 I think, Ivan was his older brother, so mid to late twenties.  This is my 17th birthday with these grown ass men.  We break into this gas station that either Jeff or Ivan worked at, and we party in there.  I’m smoking, I’m on pills, and I’m drinking.  3 substances mixed together in my blood.  I’m on cloud 9, I’m barely even mentally there.  Next thing you know, the guys decide to play spin the bottle.  The oldest one, Ivan... he lands on me at one point.  And he just goes at it.  Just full on making out with my barely conscious body.  I felt myself fading.  Next thing I know, he picks me up and carries me to the corner of the room, and next thing you know, my pants are off, and I feel myself fading and fading and I’m not really sure what’s happening.  Ivan asks me “Sex?”  I can barely speak, but I mutter out a “No!”  And he asks me again.  And I say “No!” again.  “Why?” he asks. “I don’t know!”  I can barely speak, I can barely move a muscle.  I feel myself leaving my body.  I have no control.  And he starts going down on me.  And next thing I know, I pass out and I’m unconscious.  And I wake up laying motionless and drooling, naked on top of this naked grown ass man.  I don’t know how I got there.  I start shaking.  Trying to move.  I find out that my dear friend Audrey just stood around drinking beers with David, watching this grown man rape me.

I tried to remain friends with them, but that only lasted another month.  Apparently after watching Ivan rape me on my birthday, Audrey and Alex decided to start telling all of their other friends that I was a sloppy slut and I just went and fucked this older guy, and they started saying horrible things about me every chance they got.  And I stopped being friends with them... and they played it off like “Good!  Now we can go to more parties and do more drugs because we couldn’t go before because nobody likes you!”

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Then there was Sara.  The only person I ever “fell in love” with who ever claimed to love me back.  My next MAJOR “Favorite Person.”  I met her at an event the first semester of my sophomore year of college/her freshman year.  We were sat at the same table at this event, and I could tell right away that she was gay.  She was so butch and obvious.  And DAMN, was she fucking CUTE.  It was the very end of the semester when I met her.  Then we were on Winter Break.  And she found me on Facebook somehow and added me, and started messaging me and flirting with me.  I thought she was so adorable.  She talked to me about Disney.  She asked me about my dog.  I found out that my dog was sick and dying in this time, and she asked me about it and was there for me and that really got me right away.  I was already head over heals because “this super cute girl thinks that I’m beautiful and cares about if I’m doing okay?!?!?!”

So then Spring semester started and we met up right away.  And the very first day we met up, we kissed.  And just a couple days later, she started coming to my suite every day and sleeping over.  She would bring cookie dough and treats for my suitemates and me.  She spoiled me right from the beginning and it felt GREAT.  Everything happened VERY QUICKLY.

The first night she slept over was unintentional.  We were just hanging out in my room.  My roommate had moved out because she got pregnant, so I had my own room.  We were cuddling.  And then she attempted to get sexual with me, but I was clearly nervous and hesitant, but she was very persistent.  And then she just ended up sleeping over and rushing to class in the morning.  She messaged me later in the day, apologizing for pressuring me into sexual activity; that she could see I wasn’t ready and she “felt bad” for pressuring me.  I said it was fine.

A couple days later, I was in my suite when I got a phone call from her.  She had vertigo and had to go to the ER.  All she wanted was to talk to me.  So I talked to her on the phone.  She came back to campus not too long later.  We were hanging out in my suite.  She said she had a club meeting to go to.  So I was like “Oh, okay, I also have a club meeting to go to.  I was on e-board for this club but I had to quit, but I was told they were doing something nice for me tonight so I have to go.”  And she was like “Okay.”  But then later she was mad.  “Why are you going to that club meeting?  I was in the hospital today.  All I wanted to do when I got back was to be with you and feel better.  All I could think about, all I wanted was you.”  And I said “But you were going to a club meeting, too?”  And she says “Well I was going to skip it because I wanted to be with you.”  “But I made a commitment.”  “Well I should be more important!!  I was testing you!!!”  “But you told me that it was okay if I go and you said you were going somewhere else anyway!”  “FINE!  Go!  But we’re done!”  Keep in mind we’re not even an official couple yet...  So anyway, I go to the club meeting anyway...  But all I can think about is how Sara is mad at me.  I’m having an anxiety attack.  I leave early, crying, texting and calling Sara and begging her to forgive me, I’m so so so sorry.  She eventually goes “You’re right.  You made a commitment and I told you I was going somewhere else anyway so it wasn’t fair for me to get mad at you.  I overreacted.”  And we were fine.  Or not really....  I should have taken this incident as a red flag, but I didn’t, I blamed myself.

Superbowl Sunday/Puppybowl Sunday that year was February 1st.  Apparently, at the Puppybowl Party, my friend Erica touched my thigh???  I don’t remember.  But according to Sara, it happened.  And I was no longer allowed to hang out with Erica without Sara’s permission.  “Sara, Erica doesn’t even like women!”  It didn’t matter.  She touched my thigh.  It meant she wanted me.  It meant she was a threat to Sara.  I wasn’t allowed to be her friend.

Sara wanted to wait until Valentine’s Day to ask me out officially.  She thought it would be cute if our anniversary was on Valentine’s Day.  I was NOT having it!  I didn’t want the holiday ruined forever if we ended up breaking up.  So Sara liked to joke around like “I’m breaking up with you!”  And I would keep pushing her by saying “You can’t break up with me if we’re not dating!”  And I kept pushing her and making it obvious that I was NOT happy with the waiting.  So on February 3rd, she caved in and asked me to be her girlfriend, and I was ECSTATIC.  I had a club meeting for Disney Club later that night.  I was on the e-board, so I was obligated to go.  Sara had work.  She texted me after her shift ended, she wanted to see me.  I was in the club meeting, so she had to come to the meeting.  She walks in the room and her face drops.  Erica is there.  Sara sits next to me angrily.  Her face is scaring the fuck out of me.  She’s clenching her fists.  She’s whispering nasty things to me.  She’s being so horrible to me.  Nobody notices.  I’m holding back tears.  After Disney Club meetings, everyone usually goes to Late Night Dining in the dining hall together, but Sara was ANGRY, so I told everyone I was gonna call it a night and Sara and I head back to my room.  Once we’re away from everyone else, she starts yelling at me.  “I told you not to hang out with her without me!”  “I can’t control who goes to the meetings!  I can’t tell her she’s not allowed to go, and I’m on e-board, I HAVE to be there!”  “Well you could have at least texted me and told me she was there!”  The yelling escalates and she’s screaming at me and I’m crying.  And then she very quickly stops and turns at me, and that was the first time she ever raised her fist to me.  The very first day we were “official.”

It got worse and worse every day after that, but I remember that one more than most of the others because it was the first time.  But every day after that...  She would find some reason to scream at me and insult me and throw punches towards my head.  Sex suddenly became rough sex and rough sex only, and no, she wouldn’t change it up because all of a sudden she “didn’t know how to have sex without being rough.”  I knew this was untrue because she wasn’t like that before.  But now, suddenly she was.  I had no choice.  There would be times when I wasn’t in the mood for sex, but to her that became all I was good for.  “I’m not in the mood.”  “I’ll put you in the mood.”  I would literally try to fight her and push her off of me.  My own girlfriend raped me.  So many times I lost count.  One time when she did it, I said “You just assaulted me.”  And she said “Fine, then I’ll never touch you again!”  And that was not what I wanted at all.  So then I just started taking it.  She would scream at me and throw punches at me and threaten to leave me at least three times a day.  I don’t even know how many times she raped me.

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Then there was Bobbert #3.  I loved him so much.  I still do.  He is still my FP, but we both handle it so much better now, and I’m not as attached as I used to be.

We had a relationship, but it wasn’t a *relationship.*  You see, he never loved me the way I loved him, and he never could.  He admittedly used me to experiment with his sexuality... and he tried to force himself to want me, but he couldn’t.

And he has opposite mental health issues from me.  We handle our mental health very differently.  I became exhausting for him to deal with...  He began to neglect me.  I started feeling worthless and unlovable and like I meant nothing.  Feelings were becoming similar to how I felt with Audrey, but nowhere near as bad.  But I did end up having meaningless sex with someone else when I felt lonely one night (it wasn’t cheating; we weren’t monogomous or in a *relationship relationship,* ya feel?).  Bobbert #4, I guess?  And Bobbert #4 disgusted me and violated my boundaries, and I went with it to try to fill this neglected void, but I just fell into another deep depression.  But I stayed with Bobbert #3.  All I wanted in my life was for Bobbert #3 to love me.  I kept feeling neglected.  I eventually had a mental breakdown and tied a noose in my closet, and the breakdown got worse when I realized the material wasn’t strong enough and wouldn’t work.  Bobbert #3 and my other suitemate found me crying in my closet.  They got together with someone else and reported me to counseling services and I was so angry.

And I was just in this great depression from my PTSD from being with Sara and my obsession with Bobbert #3 and I failed all my classes that semester and didn’t graduate school on time.

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A month or two later, I was finally diagnosed with BPD and everything started to make sense and I have been able to learn when I’m being irrational or splitting, I haven’t engaged in self-harm behaviors since then, I have been able to pin-point and control my symptoms and I’m doing so much better with self-control but the thoughts and feelings I have are still real and I don’t know if they will ever be normal, but I haven’t gotten a new FP since the last story so who knows, tbh....  I’d like to think that I will be able to figure out how to love and be loved back, and I’d like to think that I will be treated right one day, and that I will have a non-toxic relationship one day.  I don’t know if it is possible, but I’d like to think it is.  I mostly blame like everyone else in my life.  My therapist blames certain family members of mine and things from my childhood, but I don’t feel comfortable writing about that.  BUT, while it feels good to be able to say “Hey, I was never the bad person in these situations!” I still know I can’t deny any responsibility.  Right?  I mean, maybe?

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A few friends already know this story and know exactly who I am talking about even though I’m concealing the name for the sake of this post so if any of you actually read this far, for the sake of this post, his name is Bobbert.

Some background info: 1) In my friend group(s), I am the most vocally sex-positive person of the group, and the least innocent friend. 2) In the past when I have had random hookups with people I didn’t love, it ended with me crying and self-harming and ultimately falling into a deep depression.

So back in April, my friend Bobbert randomly hit me up on Facebook messenger to ask me to “hook up” with him.

This was a man who...  I had ultimately *convinced* myself I had a crush on him because he liked to give me hugs and cuddles, and although he liked to do that with all of his friends, it seemed more excessive with me.  And so I felt special, so I convinced myself that I HAD to like him because he gave me attention because LOL me being me, I don’t know how to differentiate touchy-feely-attention from true feelings.

But I also never thought he would pull such a douchebag move.  To just be like “sooo you wanna hook up?”  He never seemed like the type of guy to do that.  I mean, just a few days before he asked me this, I could have sworn he was dry-humping me while we were cuddling- IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS- but I convinced myself that I was imagining that because he certainly wouldn’t do something like that without saying anything first, and CERTAINLY not IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS.  So I brushed it off.  But I still had a feeling that there was some tension between us of some sort, and I figured something would happen between us eventually.  But I did not expect it to be done so disrespectfully.  I thought whatever was going on would come up naturally, in a respectful manner, in person...  Not “do you wanna hook up?” over Facebook messenger.

My initial reaction was that, as the only vocally sex-positive and least innocent friend of the friend group, I was being objectified by my friend.  My heart honestly sank as I realized that I didn’t mean anything more than a body to this person who I considered a friend.  That I was being treated as an object.  After everything all of my friends know I’ve been through, and with all of my friends being fully aware that I have BPD and RAD.  I just felt like everything was becoming clear, and I am worthless, disposable...  I am an object that does not have feelings.  In addition, because I am prone to self-harming after meaningless sex, I wanted to try this thing where I *don’t* hook up with people that I am not in a relationship with.

So anyway, I eventually answered him and said “ummmmm I don’t really hook up with people like that...”  And he was like “omg I’m so sorry I made this awkward blah blah blah.”

Anyway, I was like 45 min away from home when this happened, and I was with friends...  So at the end of the night, I took the 45 minute drive to think and reflect and when I got home, I messaged him again and I was like “Listen...  I was flustered when you messaged me because I was at this club meeting...  I have noticed there has been some tension between us, I would be lying if I said otherwise, I think we need to have a discussion.”  So then the next morning, Bobbert reads my message, but doesn’t message me back for a few hours and when he does he’s deflecting like “oh sorry I was just sleep deprived and loopy, I don’t want to complicate our friendship in any way....”  biiiiitch, you already complicated our fucking friendship.  So I’m not taking his bullshit, I’m like “nah but we still need to talk.”  Again, he reads my message and waits A COUPLE HOURS to respond and he just says “yeah you’re probably right.”  So anyway, this goes back and forth with him leaving me on “read” over and over again and I’m feeling more and more disrespected and angrier and angrier the longer he keeps me waiting.  But eventually we agree to meet up for dinner a couple days later so we can talk.

So we meet up... and I’m pretty good at standing my ground at first.  He’s kind of derailing, avoiding the subject, and I’m like “Bobbert.”  So eventually he’s like “Jamie....  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you....  But I’m not wanting to date anyone while I’m in grad school.” And I’m like “Okay....”  And I just basically tell him I’m not attracted to him at all.  Even though I had just a week earlier been convinced I had a crush?  I don’t know, And anyway, he’s like “So I’m sexually attracted to you but not romantically, like, at all.” Like, ok Bobbert, then why did you bring up dating half a minute ago when you said you’re not ready to date while you’re in school?  Like if you already decided you didn’t wanna date at all, why did you bring that up in the first place.  Are you deflecting or are you just that dumb and heartless or? So I’m basically just like “ok.” & he’s like “So we’re on the same page?  Not romantically interested in each other at all?” & I’m like “Not at all.”  Whatever. So then it’s my turn to talk  I wanted to make him realize why the way he objectified me after all my experiences with sexual violence and dating violence was an issue.  I wanted him to realize that trying to build up intimacy with me just for sex, knowing that I have BPD and attachment issues, was extremely disrespectful of my well-being.  But then I realized that I didn’t really want to talk about my history of sexual assault and domestic violence and mental illness in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

So we went back to my house to talk somewhere more privately.  I set clear boundaries.  I explained to him why I was offended and hurt.  I explained to him that I have trouble saying no to people because I really really love attention, and he was giving me a lot of attention.  I asked “Do you respect me?” and he said “Yes.”  I believed him and boundaries were set.  But then two seconds later, he cuddles up to me.  And then he starts groping me.  And I say, “Ummm... what’s going on?”  & he’s like “I’m cuddling you... sexually...  Is that okay?”  And because he had just told me he respected me, and I felt like we just had a respectful discussion, I was like “Yeah I guess.”  And one thing led to another, and even though I had set boundaries, we somehow ended up hooking up anyway??????  I was not enjoying any second of it.  I even told him “I am not enjoying this.  At all.  This is never happening ever again.”

And then we didn’t see each other again for almost 2 months???  I really want to remain his friend.  I don’t know how possible it is.

We went to Six Flags together a couple weeks ago.  And then things got a little too flirty again.  And ya know what?  A lot of that was my fault.  I instigated and initiated a lot of that.  There was excessive hand holding and hugs and cuddles and hands on thighs.  And a lot of that was MY fault.

I just tell this story to show how vulnerable I am right now, how desperately I desire and crave love and affection and attention.  I literally cannot resist it.  Even when I know I’m just hurting myself...  I will engage.

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Anyway, I kind of just hate myself.  I think that I am too much to deal with.  I will never be loved and I don’t deserve to be loved and I am meant to be lonely forever.  And I try and try and try but I’m only 23 years old and I’ve already dealt with so much abuse and assault, I’ve lost count.  These weren’t even all of the stories, either...  Just what is the point of life anymore when I’ve gone through all this?  I’ve gone through enough personal trauma to last 3 lifetimes, and I’m not even 25 years old yet.  This is just SOME of the stuff I have to battle with every day.  Just a little glimpse.  I just don’t understand why me...