#never thought I would fall victim to the ‘you seek out the treatment you know’ trope

[avpd-queer]

I feel bad that my former best friend is in a toxic relationship and can’t see it, is throwing away their friends of over a decade for her, but I also can’t stop remembering how, when I shared with them that I had just learned I had been cheated on and gaslighted about it for 6 years, their response was concern about my abuser’s mental health. That conversation didn’t affect their relationship with him in the slightest, they didn’t try to be there for me or show up for me to him, and when I they learned that I was going to get back with that person just a few days later, expecting them to be like, “uh no I don’t think that’s a good idea” (like everyone else had done and like I expected from them, having told them “just don’t let any of your friends date him” when I shared that I was leaving him, thinking they could help me figure out where to sleep and how to adjust), they didn’t protest at all. I was glad to avoid the awkwardness of, “thank you for your concern but I don’t have other options and idk I guess I’m gullible but also I just really want to believe it’ll get better” but also hurt that they didn’t seem concerned for my well-being. Hoping that they just didn’t voice that part because I’m an adult and can make decisions and already know what advice I would give myself. I just had to cling to believing that, and thinking maybe they don’t understand what gaslighting is and that’s why they didn’t seem to care, even as they became less and less my friend and eventually dropped both of us for trying to set a boundary with them about their girlfriend. And the only way they offer for me to be there for them through their relationship is to stuff down all of my needs and feelings, go along with every whim of their girlfriend, and accept that we will never get time with them without her ever again. They kept pretending like everything was okay and they totally understood, when we were face-to-face, and then they’d go home and suddenly we’re horrible and need to apologize to her for…being her friend? Trying to get more time with our best friend? Being honest with our best friend when they ask why we haven’t been able to get closer to their girlfriend? We were trying to be adult and trust in the strength of our friendship, but they fully gave in to their girlfriend’s temper tantrum over her misinterpretation of messages she logged into their discord to read, and they have just fully thrown us away. Ghosted us for pride and haven’t communicated with us in any form since. We had some extra pizza from a canceled event at my partner’s work that I left on their doorstep and had my sister text about, and they responded that they were out of the country, visiting her family. Normally we have two weekly dnd sessions and 1-2 weekly hangout sessions - the first week of dnd was canceled and after that, they just never showed up. This month of nothing is one of the few months we had left before they were going to move to where her family lives in the US, like 10hr drive from here, being fully isolated with her, without a support system, away from the support system they haven’t been away from in like 8 years (when I was in New York - my partner was here during those 2 years, they were roommates).

I’m just so hurt. They meant so much to me, I planned on having them in my life for the rest of it. I knew in the last relationship they were in they let us fall to the side some but she broke up with them and they realized how absorbed they’d been and promised to not let it happen again. Before meeting the current girlfriend, who they immediately got absorbed into. I don’t know what the fuck to do.

[cyarskj1899]

Tory Lanez, Megan Thee Stallion Trial Proves Burden on Women | POPSUGAR Celebrity

The Tory Lanez and Megan Thee Stallion Trial Proves the Burden of Proof Always Falls on Black Women

Deanna Shoyoye

"Who Shot Meg" is trending on social media more than two years after gunshots allegedly rang out in the Hollywood Hills during the early morning hours of July 12, 2020. The incident has sparked speculation and deep division across social media. Tory Lanez, whose legal name is Daystar Peterson, is charged with shooting Megan Pete, professionally known as Megan Thee Stallion, in her feet after an argument that capped a night of drinking and partying in Kylie Jenner's pool. He has pleaded not guilty to felony assault charges; if convicted, he could face up to 22 years in prison.

Above the social media chatter, a devastating truth rings true: the trial has proved just how heavy the burden of proof falls on Black women.

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The Cast of I Know What You Did Last Summer Play a Scary Game of Would You Rather

Ironically, the incident occurred as both Pete and Lanez were making names for themselves in the midst of a global pandemic. The release of "Savage" — followed by a remix of the hit with Beyoncé — catapulted Pete to the top of the charts with the help of her viral TikTok dance. Lanez's mixtapes and musical collaborations were also making a buzz, along with his wildly popular and raunchy Instagram Live show, "Quarantine Radio." As both Pete and Lanez's stars were on the rise, they'd become fast friends, reportedly bonding over the shared tragedy of losing their mothers. However, an argument that occurred that hot summer night allegedly culminated in Pete being shot and police arriving at the scene. 

Since the incident, the two artists couldn't be further apart — they are separated in court as victim and accused, and their camps of fans have splintered as well. Supporters for Pete vow to #StandWithMeg, while Lanez backers claim he is not only being falsely accused but framed.

With the trial underway, what has struck me most about this case is the onslaught of scrutiny and harassment Pete has endured. In the case, misinformation abounds, along with the ugly and predictable responses to a Black woman seeking justice in the wake of a violent act. The fan fodder around the alleged shooting of Pete by Lanez is a vivid example of why so many women are hesitant to report acts of violence and pursue pressing charges.

Pete has been accused of nothing, but somehow every personal choice she has made is on trial in the court of public opinion. She's had her sexual history picked apart, her credibility debated ad nauseam, and her character called into question — all while having her humanity and trauma denied. How easy it has been for people to question her injury while ignoring the physical and emotional damage she has experienced. Despite medical evidence, many believe she was never shot at all, let alone by Lanez. Because of her celebrity status, the world has witnessed the type of vitriol many victims of violence face after reporting a criminal assault — particularly Black women, and especially when the accused is wealthy and well-liked.

Pete's treatment mirrors what many everyday women go through when they report an act of violence, and moreover why that backlash often causes them to avoid reporting in the first place. As the burden of proof falls on their shoulders, it has the potential to damage them even more in their pursuit of justice. 

And what we've learned so far in the trial is that this type of vitriol has real and destructive consequences. On Dec. 13, Pete testified that the experience led her to have suicidal thoughts. "I don't feel like I want to be on this earth," she said. "I wish he would have just shot and killed me if I knew I would have to go through this torture."

Imagine walking around with bullet fragments in your feet for more than two years — and millions of people online don't even believe you were shot! Imagine waiting for two years to have a chance at justice. Imagine being asked to perfectly recount the details of your attack while you were scared, intoxicated, embarrassed, injured, and surely in shock. Imagine the court fees, the work missed, the damaged relationships with former friends. Now imagine this for women who lack financial, community, legal, and mental health resources; imagine this for women who aren't one of the most famous music artists in the world.

Of course, victim blaming and shaming is not solely reserved for Black women. Women across demographics must be prepared to defend their allegations with details about the crime itself, but also to offer reasons for why they drank so much, or dressed so sexy, or spoke so loudly, or slept with someone, or why they lied that one time. The justice system and the media throw so many intrusions their way that distract from the fact that they were hurt by the hands of another person, often someone they once trusted and cared for. 

There's a similarity in the way the justice system and media treat Black male victims of violence, more than ever when that violence is perpetrated by police. I believe that harsh reality is at the core of some of Lanez's supporters' outrage, but it does not justify the mean and illogical attempts to diminish Pete's pain and deny her justice. 

"Believe Black Women" is more than a hashtag. "Protect Black Women" is a battle cry. These statements must remind us how the lives and spirits of women are damaged when we don't. The burden of proof is too heavy on shoulders that already carry the weight of the world — yet still make magic happen.

[demonslayedher]

Dream Analysis of Mugen Ressha

Spoilers for the movie, while it does not depart from the plot of the manga, they made adaptational choices which I may refer to within.

While Enmu has control over what kind of dream his victims see, ultimately, he would have no way of knowing all of the details of his victims' lives, so we can assume that he is prompting his victims to fill in a lot of the details themselves. These are the worlds they surround themselves with consciously, but their untouchable unconscious spaces say just as much.

I've said some of this before, but these dream sequences give us so much to say about Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kyojuro, and Tanjiro.

Into the dream: Did that "Rengoku-aniki" thing really happen???? It's animated like a fever dream (or drawn like a typical Gotouge-being-Gotouge panel), but both the movie and the manga leave this inconclusive. It can be interpreted two ways: 1. The two other demons were there all along as decoys, set to appear only when Enmu's blood technique slowly started to take effect so that they'd let their guard down. In this way, we'd know that the boys had a true way of witnessing Kyojuro's prowess and a true bonding moment, thereby making his death hit all the harder later. This would also mean that one of the cars was totally unusable for passengers, and many of the passengers were already thoroughly spooked before falling into sleep. It would also imply that they were all super excited, thoroughly relieved, returned to their seats, and then just passed out.

2. The moment the tickets were clipped, Enmu's very, very, very realistic dreams took immediate effect, but he still needed time before it took effect enough that their guards would go down. If this is the case, then it implies the following: 1. Enmu's illusions can be shared 2. Everyone syncs extremely well together to have all been sucked in by the same illusion (it's possible it was only Tanjiro's, but since we get in everyone's heads a little in this part, I believe they all experienced the same thing). Reacting in ways so true to how they would in waking like, they learned as much about each other as truthfully as they would have if they were fighting while awake. 3. The "Rengoku-aniki" thing is the moment they're falling into a deeper stage of sleep, when any bizarre thing will make sense. They've lost any sense of holding back and are embracing the emotions as they hit them. Even if that was all a dream, the bond formed was very real. But then, as they fall deep, they fall into their own headspaces. Inosuke: I love how bombastic this dream is. It moves at a very fast pace, and everything revolves around Inosuke. He is physically much larger than Ponjiro, Chuuitsu, and Pyonko, who clearly follow him as their leader, the most powerful person in this cave exploring world full of wonder and excitement. True to life, these underlings can at times be frustrating or stupid, but there is no one else Inosuke would rather have at his side to take on a hugely impressive foe. It's a relatively simplistic world, what Inosuke really cares about is his place in it, and who is there.

Taking it a step deeper, he should not be able to manifest in his self-conscious space, but Gotouge attributes his and Zenitsu's ability to do this and protect their cores from intruders to their strong senses of self. What's telling is that his subconscious space is practically identical to his conscious dream space; like there is no breakage between one stage of reality and the next. In its Zen-like simplicity Inosuke's mind is never at odds with itself, its interpretation of reality is fluid and seamless. However, being at this deeper state brings us to a deeper state of self actualization, with Inosuke manifesting closer to the ideal beast he views himself as.

Now, with Inosuke being so fully invested in what he sees as reality, he's still got a carry-over effect from dream after waking up, which one could interpret as not having fully shaken the effects of Enmu's blood technique. After all, Zenitsu simply never broke out of it, Tanjiro had to kill himself in his dreams each time to fully snap out of it, and Kyojuro was the only one powerful enough to have broken through its effects through his own willpower. When Tanjiro says the train is a demon, he buzzes with "I was right!" (a conviction that only got stronger in his dream), and Inosuke's declarations of being the boss and Tanjiro being his underling are indignantly plentiful and he fully believes what he is saying every time he brings it up, even if he's aware that he's no longer in the cave exploring dream. But, given that Inosuke is so at peace with his own version of reality, it's also just as likely that his conviction of being The Boss was also only compounded by the dream, and all that dream did was give him a more fun setting in which to play around in. But, what was so fun about the dream, what made him sleep-giggle with pleasure, was that everyone else was finally getting with the program and recognizing him as the boss, as they should. Finally. It's so frustrating in real life that he has to keep reminding them to get it right. Get it, Santaro?? GOOD. Zenitsu: What I love here is the contrast between subconscious and conscious space. Both of them have the same theme melody, but played in very, very different ways. They also both play with the same core desire in very different ways as well. Is it so much to ask that he can just spend some time alone with the girl he loves?? If we jump straight to the pitch black unconscious space, he specifies to the intruder that only Nezuko is allowed there. Not just girls in general, not a close friend like Tanjiro, only the one girl he loves, and even then, you'd have to love someone a lot to invite them into the deepest, darkest corners of your soul. And it is a very, very, very, very dark corner. Zenitsu's spent most of his life building that dark, pessimistic personality, compounded by the treatment he's always received throughout his life and what he believes about himself at his core. He's ugly and depraved there, and very defensive. Because he holds himself in such darkness, that makes him desire the bright, happy, completely idealistic world of his conscious dream world. It's rich with detail and warm and he knows it well, that places is the first place he ever felt someone have hope for him; it's Jiichan's home, that sunny place with delicious peaches and full of clovers and lush greenery and a charming stream. Of course he'd want to show it all to Nezuko, she deserves to see such a happy, pretty place! And, while the world is idealized and happy, Nezuko is e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y cute and actually wants to hang out with him too. She's willing no hold his hand, none of the girls who dated (read: used) Zenitsu in the past were ever willing to hold his hand. He even gets to show her that he can be cool, and she likes it!! She looks him in the eyes and is totally honest about enjoying his company!!

He just wants someone to want him back. He wants to belong in the sunshine too. So, even if he had it in him to wake up from Enmu's blood technique, who can blame him for staying there? (You know, besides Tanjiro, who has been desperately screaming for them all to wake up and help him protect the passengers. Zzzzz, five more minutes, Tanjiro, zzzzzzz----) Kyojuro: This... isn't really a happy dream. Kyojuro has accepted a lot of sad parts of his reality so wholeheartedly that he doesn't seek the comfort of a dream in which his mother is still alive, or a dream in which his father is proud of him. Instead, what Kyojuro was looking for was the chance to go back and say more to Senjuro. This implies that on the real day he knelt in that room, while his father faced away and read the book* while Kyojuro told him all about how he defeated Lower Moon Two and became a Pillar, and was met with his father's heartbreakingly unenthusiastic reply, he later went outside and...

...didn't say any words of comfort to Senjuro.

This regret, that he didn't do more for his brother whom he knew was hurting in his own silent ways this whole time, was what sat most bothersomely in Kyojuro's otherwise peacefully self-assured psyche (or fired-up psyche, if you go by his subconscious space) . It makes sense that in his dying wishes, the first thing he requests is that Tanjiro do this in his stead. *Speaking of that book, Kyojuro had forgotten about it until his memories pulled together to create the details of the dream, which was why he thought to mention it to Tanjiro later. This shows that Enmu is not an architect of people's dreams, he only sets them in motion. How believable they are depends on each victim. (Totally unrelated, I love the design of the Rengoku estate's garden??? It's primarily evergreen and unflowering trees, meaning it stays relatively steadfast throughout the year, a garden designed in samurai villa taste. Plus the details of the house also fit really well, I think??? Would need to review research of buke-yashiki architecture to say more.) Tanjiro: ...*deep breath* This boy really, really wants to go home. Like, the climax of the movie is amazing and all, but it's the scenes with Tanjiro's family that make me cry. Ugh, where do I start. Enmu probably just grabs on to whatever thread of a desire a person has, and then he just tugs on it and says "this way, let's go really far in this direction, show me where it goes, hmm, okay, nice, lovely. Have fun here, I've now seen enough to write my own angsty version for later." So... so I'm just going to work backwards a moment. Enmu screwed up here, thinking he could really read the depth of Tanjiro's family and his feelings for them. He thought he could make a convincing version of these "characters" cry and shove Tanjiro around and speak meanly to him and make him feel shame. And the cut to that dream, OH MY GOSH, truly horrific sound and color change. But Tanjiro's sees through it so fast that he wakes up immediately and uses that anger at how Enmu wrote them to cut off his "head." You screwed up, Enmu, you blew it, maybe other people would very so blown down by the shock that they wouldn't question how unreal that dream sequence is, but Tanjiro has honed his fighting spirit so much that it's been nagging him even throughout his happy dream. And he really, really, really wants to stay in that happy dream. Like, even though he's on guard at the beginning, so much so that he only focuses on the familiar feeling of a demon being around and does not notice the familiar landscape AT ALL. But the moment Hanako and Shigeru step in, convincingly made from Tanjiro's memories and unedited by Enmu, Tanjiro throws that all away in an instant. As he says when he's trying, after trying and trying and trying to rip himself away from the dream, he was never even supposed to had left this world. He was never supposed to had touched anything like a sword, they were all supposed to stay there together, living their simple life. If things hadn't gone wrong that one night. Tanjiro cares deeply about his mission, he's adopted his training deeply, he has serious desire to improve, which is why his subconsciously keeps trying to call himself back to reality, but it's so hard, because this is where he wants to be, and it's even harder because it feels so real. It's a little peeve of mine when families with lots of little siblings are written to be too angelic and idealistic, and there is some of that with the "let's make sembei, yaaaay" scene, but... but that's actually pretty true. I'm giving myself away with how close this hits to home, but it's a dynamic in a lot of large families, especially large families pretty happy to stay to themselves and people who live the same sort of conservative, traditional lifestyle, to foster in the older siblings some pride in taking care of the little ones and helping create that happy world for them, even if taking care of little kids can be rough. It's not to say that things are always happy and fluffy, they're not, and that's not to say even

happy kids don't resent being in a large family sometimes. But there's plenty of moments in daily life, especially in the presence of small children, that you get swept up into a sillier, happy, caretaker side of yourself, and since you all grow up with these silly moments together, you're going to naturally fall into into some silly, scripted-feeling moments of "then I'll be in charge of eating the sembei!" "no faaaaair!". So, I'll give the sembei scene a pass because that IS a moment that happens in years of moments with the same posse of kiddos around you all the time. But it's also so striking to me how each of Tanjiro's siblings, however idealized, has their own personality. The traits are so subtle but consistent and Tanjiro knows all of them. They pick up on things about each other, they grow realistically annoyed and surprised and concerned and scared like they would if they were real instead of only Tanjiro's memories of them. Those kids feel so real to me, even if they are annoyingly overidealized in some parts as Tanjiro is letting himself get swept away. And just when he's managing to part from it to go face reality, Enmu makes more attack: he brings in Nezuko, trying to make it feel like there's no point in Tanjiro running at all. She's fine. There's nothing left for him to fight for. Everything's fine. And all over again, Tanjiro just stops. He KNOWS it's not real, but he's hurting so much to hear her voice again that he just sto-o-o-o-ps. And his desire to stay with the others catches up to him all over again, and he's tempted all over again to stay, EVEN KNOWING IT'S NOT REAL and there are very, very, very pressing matters to attend to. Even if it was all a little happy and idealized, more than anything, it felt like life always did. It's telling that when Tanjiro finally, FINALLY pulls away from that that time, he doesn't look back, and the family stops chasing him. This is Tanjiro accepting reality, however much it hurts. He's already had a couple years to accept this, but it was all overwhelming to get such a vivid taste of it again.

Tanjiro wants to do well to his organization and honor Urokodaki's training and avenge the fallen and prevent anyone else from being hurt and see an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and make Nezuko human again, but more than anything, he wants that simple life. And it's so, so heartwarming that at the end of the manga, he gets it.

It's not the same. It'll never be the same.

He never wanted a life with a sword, but he's been working so hard at it anyway.

[disgruntledspacedad]

Javier Peña and commitment

a better love series  character analysis

Okay, not-so-briefly, let me finish what I started with this post, and say a few more words about Javier Peña and commitment. 

I think typical fanon describes Javi as a rogue, smoky, commitment-phobe man slut. The kind of guy who never settles down because he’s too busy having fun with his hookers. And yeah, at first glance, that’s a valid assumption. Javi definitely puts off that vibe. Hell, I think he even believes that of himself. 

I call bullshit, though. 

Javi is obviously an affection starved softie who is seeking intimacy and human contact. He just doesn’t know how to get it. Watch how deeply he connects with each of the women he sleeps with. He publicly greets the hookers in Medellín by name (like seriously what man does this??) and his relationship with Gabby seems intensely personal. He cares about what happens to her. He’s sweet, almost tender with her. 

This is a man with a huge heart and deep, unfulfilled needs.

Now, let me tease apart what I think happened that scarred Javi so profoundly.

I want to start with his family life. 

Now, a lot of this falls deep into headcanon territory, but this entire post is in context of Better Love, so that’s fine. However, I don’t think it’s too far off the mark for canon Javi, too. Just things to bear in mind.

Okay, so in The Kingpin Strategy, Chucho makes references to the fact that Javi has always been free spirited and idealistic. “You couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

Javi says, “It was right here, wasn’t it? The last time we had this conversation.” He sounds resentful, frustrated.

And Chucho replies, “You didn’t listen to me then, either.”

Man oh man, this says a lot. There’s a lot of reference to some very old bitterness, most (but not all of it) on Javi’s end. Let’s break it down.

In Better Love, Javi lost his mom to colon cancer when he was nineteen. We know from canon that he was chomping at the bits to get out of town, so I kind of think that Javi packed his bags the day that he turned eighteen and left. He’s from a small, close knit family, and him taking off into the blue without any warning would have shocked them. It would have hurt. 

The fact that he and Chuco have their conversation in the driveway is telling, too. 

I think Javi spent some significant time estranged from his family, and things were probably still rocky between them when his mom passed away. Colon cancer can be pretty subtle. Javi’s mom didn’t get a diagnosis until it was far too late for effective treatment. It would have hit her hard and fast, and she and Javi may not have had much time to reconcile. Hell, she was upset by Javi leaving - she may not have even told him what was going on.

Ouch.

Now, Javi is a guy that silently shoulders all of the responsibility that he’s not meant to carry, and he’s absolutely going to blame himself for taking off like that, and for being too stubborn to call home and check on Mom. Her death is the first in a series of wounds that lead to Javi’s (very misguided) belief that he’s a shit human, when truly, nothing could be further from the truth. 

Next, let’s talk about Lorraine. 

We know from Javi’s conversation with Steve that he thinks Lorraine was better off without him, giving us another glimpse of that deep seated self-loathing that we know he carries. Javi almost sounds wistful, like he regrets leaving her. Certainly, he regrets hurting her (more proof that Javi is actually a pretty sensitive guy - he knows he fucked up). But then we actually meet Lorraine in season three, and there’s something really weird there. 

Now, granted, Javi left her at the alter. Things are bound to be weird. But look at how he’s drawn to her, like he just can’t help crossing the room to see her again, even years later. That was the first big red flag for me. 

Then, watch how Lorraine treats him. She’s dismissive, pretty biting. And okay, yeah, she’s well within her right to be bitter. But then she says this:

“Can you imagine if we actually were married?”

Like, scoffs it. Guys, that’s a pretty serious dig. Lorraine is implying that Javi is beneath her, that he could never, ever be decent husband material. And watch his reaction. He takes this cut like he’s used to taking this cut from her. I don't know, but to me, it just reeks of a history of toxicity.

Men are absolutely capable of being the victims of toxic relationships and emotional abuse. I mean, duh. But try telling that to Javier Peña, with his tendency to internalize and self destruct. 

It would make a lot of sense to me that their relationship was built on this type of fucked up interaction, with Lorraine constantly pushing Javi to be this perfect dude with a white picket fence, and constantly calling him on his “failure” to do so. Maybe some of it was rooted in racism and classism - Lorraine seems like she could be that petty, materialistic type. Maybe Javi just wasn’t ready to settle down. 

Remember, too, that Javi’s love language is acts of service. He’s not a super romantic guy in the traditional sense, but he wants to do things for the person he loves, practical, tangible things to keep them safe and happy. If Javi thought that he could do better by Lorraine by putting a ring on her finger, it might be pretty easy to persuade him that he “ought” to do that, especially if there’s a continued history of verbal abuse. Remember that we tend to believe the things our abusers say about us, and that most of the time, this stuff starts subtle. If Lorraine is constantly suggesting that Javi’s not good enough for her, eventually, he’s going to fucking believe it. 

And consider the fallout of skipping town on your wedding day. No matter if the relationship is healthy or not, men tend to get the short end of the stick when it comes to breakup sympathy, and to leave a pretty woman like Lorraine waiting at the alter? My god, people would have been vicious to Javi. 

He probably believed all of the shitty things they said about him.

Javi threw himself into his career, and between a dangerous, high stress job with the DEA and never addressing these old hurts (Javi just doesn’t do that, you know), what you wind up with is a deeply wounded, “self sufficient” (read: emotionally constipated) man with raging self esteem issues and an intense fear of emotional intimacy. Now, all of this shit might have scarred Javi, but it doesn’t change his nature. Javi has a huge heart, he’s fiercely idealistic, and he desperately wants to do the right thing. And we all need love and human connection. 

Javi just denies this emphatically. 

But the ugly truth is, Javi avoids long term relationships because he thinks he doesn’t deserve them. It’s not even about being hurt again, not anymore. He almost sees it as an ethical thing, dammit. Give this boy a hug. 

This is why it took a fucking bomb to get him off his ass and admit his feelings for Ears. Javi would never, ever have done that without something very radical catching his attention. He would have let Ears walk straight out of his life, and yeah, it would have torn him to pieces, and he’d have always regretted it and wondered ‘what if,’ but that fear is an old, deeply rooted thing. That’s why I have Ears sort of pick up on the gravity of Javi saying, “I’m all in,” to her at the end of The Rules of Engagement. She’s not eloquent, but she’s pretty intuitive, and she knows that a commitment is something that Javier Peña does not take lightly.

And let me just say this about commitment: Javier Peña is a man who honors his fucking commitments. Watch what he’s willing to do for his informants - he always, always puts their wellbeing first, even before his own, even before the integrity of the hunt for the cartels. 

And Javier Peña is beyond devoted to bringing down the cartels. Like, that’s his entire arc in the show, right?

He’s committed to justice, too. Like fiercely, will do fucking anything to make things right, to make them fair. He wants to do the right thing so much it burns.

So, I don’t think it’s fair at all to say that Javier Peña is a man who fears commitment. He fears intimacy, while at the same time, he craves it. He fears human connection, when really, that’s the thing he needs most. 

But he doesn’t fuck around once he decides something. 

Which is the really, really fun thing about Better Love. For the first time, we get to see Javier Peña, the idealist who wears his poorly disguised heart blatantly on his sleeve, the man who goes for broke trying to get things done, the man who’s passions literally destroy him, in an intensely emotional relationship with another human. One who is just as devoted to him in return. 

So, anyway, if you’re still reading this, wow. I just wanted to babble about how Javier Peña is far more than brooding testosterone. Actually, he’s a very soft boy who needs patience and a lot of healing, and somebody who is willing to meet him exactly where he is and love him because of it.

And I want to give him that. 

[astaroth1357]

(Yes, I still have more requests but I need a creativity break. This has been in my drafts for a while so I share it with you now)

How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend

Have Some Sympathy for the Devil...

Demons are amoral beings by nature. This lack of natural empathy and ethical restraint can make them appear to be heartless, but nothing is farther from the truth. In fact, your beloved hellspawn can feel happiness and love just as well as you can but that also means they can experience sadness too... When this happens it’s only natural to want to cajole your lover back to high spirits, but this task can be easier said than done. For cases when your demon has taken up sorrow, our guide How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend is here to help! This volume will offer you some of the best advice on the market for how to bring your demon back to happiness as any lover would want to do. With our help, you should see that frown lift right off your partner’s face just like when they torment the beings left for eternal damnation, guaranteed!

Lucifer

Lucifer will not want to make his sorrow known to you at first. He prefers to present an image of power and composure which in his mind goes against the vulnerability sadness can bring. You will have to be mindful and watch out for changes in his behavior.

If he is: avoiding your presence, working even more than usual, being stricter on others, emotionally distant, isolating himself, or listening to an inordinate amount of classical music it may be time to intervene.

Engage Lucifer on this only when he is alone. This won’t be too difficult as he will likely be avoiding people anyway.

Approaching Lucifer on a matter this sensitive should be done with caution and great care. You have very little room for error. If you make a gaff or try to speak to him in a way he deems belittling, then he may shut you out further and then you’re back at square one.

Do you best to convey concern, compassion, and sincerity. In your mind you should not be speaking to the Avatar of Pride right now. You should be approaching someone very dear to you whom you can tell is hurting.

If Lucifer is not ready to speak, he will try to console you but give you no concrete answers for his behavior. This is normal, and a tad frustrating, but not a complete shutdown. You can wait for a time (at least overnight) and then try again.

Do not interrogate him. He may not feel comfortable divulging why he's upset just yet. Simply tell him what you’ve noticed about his behavior and express concern.

When Lucifer is finally ready to tell you what has him so gloomy, take care to listen intently. He may only admit this once. 

Once the information is out in the open, assess what can be done and what advice you can offer. Lucifer isn’t one to speak idly about his problems, he will likely be seeking some kind of actionable guidance more than a willing ear. Offer all suggestions empathetically, with the understanding that he values your opinion even if he doesn't take your advise.

A new plan of action will likely soothe him the most, but if he still appears to be troubled after your discussion you can offer him further relaxation options: tea, a hot bath, more classical music, pleasant conversation, etc. 

Now that he’s let you in, he shouldn’t begrudge your presence anymore so remain with him for as long as you feel is necessary. To some extent, Lucifer needs solitude to sort out his thoughts but he’s not the best at doing the same for his emotions. Remind him, gently, that some battles take two to win.

Mammon

If Mammon is upset, you’re probably going to know about it. Where Lucifer is reserved and secretive, Mammon is overt and transparent. He may not mean to be but it is what it is. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Signs that Mammon may be in distress include: avoidance to particular topics, unconvincing denial, crying, clinginess, impulsivity, and, in extremes, desperation.

If Mammon is upset he will naturally gravitate to you for comfort. This certainly makes your task easier so long as you pick up on the signs quickly.

Physical closeness will do wonders for easing his mood. If you’re alone, I’d suggest holding him in some way but doing so in public may make him too embarrassed to actually enjoy your comfort. If you’re with others, allow him to hold you.

Get him talking. It won’t be very difficult, so just let him air out what the problem is. He may just need to complain about a bad day or some unfair treatment and that’s totally fine. Offer him a sympathetic ear.

After he’s done speaking, assess where his mood is now. If he still seems particularly gloomy, it may be the time to deploy other measures to bring him back to happiness.

Affection and humor are the best methods to use when dealing with a sad Mammon. Make a joke at the expense of whoever/whatever is troubling him then take the time to remind him of something positive about himself or your bond. He won’t accept these compliments verbally (but he won’t want you to stop them either).

If even this is not enough (and you’re feeling generous), you can offer to take him shopping or out to eat on your expense. Be warned that he will NEVER refuse this offer and you best have the funds to cover his (immense) expenses. Grimm can’t buy you happiness, but if you’re Mammon it comes very, very close.

Leviathan

Chances are if Levi is sad it’s due to an insecurity of some kind nagging at him. Like Mammon, he generally won’t be very subtle about it.

Look for these signs: melancholy, self-deprecation, envious statements, the phrase “It’s not fair!,” increased anime/game usage, crying, loss of appetite, lack of sleep, increased possessiveness.

Leviathan will periodically go through moods of self-doubt that will cause him to deflate and draw inward. He will not be able of pull himself out of these recurring regressions so it will be up to you to take notice of when he’s struggling.

If you see signs that he is falling victim to his thoughts, it's best to comfort him some before getting to the bottom of what’s wrong.

Find a way to hold him, if he’s currently playing a game then either wait for him to reach a stopping point or ask politely if he will pause so you can give him some affection. He will likely cling onto you in some way once he’s ready to speak. This is normal behavior, allow him to be as close as he needs and pat his head. He will find this soothing. 

Now gently ask him what has him so upset and assess the situation. Levi may have several insecurities but always remember that he also has many strengths. Downplay his weaknesses and bolster those strengths when necessary.

He may not appear to believe your compliments at first, but this initial denial is normal. DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED. Your words mean more to him than anyone else’s, even his own. There will be a point where he stops attempting to refute your claims, that is a sign that they have reached him.

With his self-esteem bolstered, seal the deal with more affection. Kisses, hugs, and other forms of intimacy are all acceptable as he is in sore need of all options. Monitoring Levi’s emotional wellbeing is not a task for the faint of heart, yet it can still be a rewarding experience to those who wish to love this awkward otaku.

Satan

Satan takes a little after Lucifer in that he won’t be very obvious when he’s upset, but even more so because he’s already very used to acting against what he may be feeling.

Signs that Satan is in need of comfort will be subtle, but not impossible to spot. Look for if: he’s reading at nearly all times or gravitating especially toward one particular topic (this will be in response to a problem he may be facing), irritability, impatience, melancholy, or he’s more quiet/withdrawn than usual.

It is best to approach Satan about this in solitude but you need not be in private.

There is little need to walk on eggshells when asking him about his mood. Simply present your concerns in an honest and compassionate manner. Chances are, he was only hiding his problems so not to trouble you. Being direct in telling him that he doesn’t burden you will likely get him to open up just fine.

Again, like Lucifer, he will probably be seeking a solution to what’s bothering him more than he will need to vent. It’s alright if you don’t have an answer for him right away, if he’s looking for one himself it may not be a very simple problem.

Offer your support and maybe help him brainstorm what sort of steps he can take. Knowing that you’ve noticed his emotional state and are behind him fully will reassure him greatly.

If this problem has him particularly downtrodden, offer him a good book or some sort of cat-related activity/item. This should perk him up considerably because the thing he loves second to only you, is cats.

Asmodeus

If Asmodeus is upset, you WILL know.

He is not subtle in the slightest so finding signs won’t be much of a challenge. If he is: crying, moping, acting uncharacteristically withdrawn, shying away from partying, buying excessive amounts of makeup/clothing/jewelry, etc. then he is likely in need of comfort.

Approach Asmo anywhere that you can find him and ask him why he what's wrong. There isn’t any need to hide his feelings from others, he’s very open about his emotions.

He will probably tell you immediately and may need to vent in the process. Listen patiently to what he has to say with a sympathetic ear. This is a therapeutic release for him and a very important step towards making him feel better.

Once he’s done, offer him physical comfort. A hug or kisses should suffice, but it can be taken farther to whatever level you are most comfortable with. He will appreciate any contact that’s offered regardless.

If time passes and he still seems unusually somber, offer to take him shopping or to go to a spa of some kind. This may not completely rid him of his sadness, but it will help bring him back to higher spirits. 

Asmodeus’ emotions run deep and can be very intense, both in highs and lows. Do not feel inadequate if it takes a few days to fully rid him of a bad mood. Just be there for him as best you can and he will love and be grateful to you for every minute of it, regardless.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is not likely to voice his sadness, but it can still be picked up on pretty quickly if you know what to look for.

Look for these signs: he’s eating less/smaller portions than usual, unfinished plates, general looks of sorrow or unhappiness, exercising more/in excess of what's healthy, and gravitation towards comfort foods.

The first thing to note is there’s a chance that his sadness isn’t his own, but Belphegor’s just carrying over to him due their twin connection. It may be advantageous to check on Belphie before approaching Beel just in case. (For more on cheering up Belphegor, consult the next section).

If Belphie is fine, then go to Beel and gently ask him what’s wrong. Again, there is little need to beat around the bush here. Like Satan, he probably just didn’t want to trouble you.

The chances are that he’s upset about a family matter or he’s having nightmares again. If it’s a problem within the family, first ascertain if there’s an upset between him and Belphie. If the twins are having a spat, the best way to cheer him up would be to help resolve it.

For other family related issues, please seek out our supplementary material: On Demonic Family Relations & How to Resolve Demonic Family Squabbles

If he’s having nightmares, then you should consider monitoring what food he eats before bed and stay with him while he sleeps if you are not already. It will comfort him to have you close. The nightmares should pass eventually, but be there to give him love and support until they do. 

Beel may look big and intimidating, but he has the most heart of any demon out there. If he has gifted it to you, it’s only natural for you to feel distressed if he’s not acting like his usual self. Just remember that a downcast Beel is not the end of the world, nor something that can’t be righted with a bit of love and effort to reach out.

Belphegor

In truth, Belphegor is more prone than the rest to suffer from bouts of sadness regularly. There may not be an obvious cause for these dips in mood, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things you can do to help.

Belphie is very hard to read at times so physical indicators of sadness won’t be easy to catch. It may take some added familiarity with him to know when he’s acting differently than usual. Stay patient, vigilant, and empathetic. You will pick up on it eventually.

Look for these signs: increased apathy, melancholy, excessive sleepiness (yes, even more sleepy somehow), irritability, lack of appetite, and general withdrawal from the world around him.

It may be best just to ask Belphie how he’s feeling on a somewhat regular basis, but be careful not to frame your questions as if they’re coming from a place of excessive worry. He won’t want to feel as if you pity him or find him to be overly fragile, this is just a part of his daily life after all.

Beel can also be used as an indicator of Belphie’s emotional state. If Beel is looking particularly sad, it might be good to check on his twin just in case.

If it’s not a good day for him, he may not tell you outright. You will need to read between the lines. Watch where his eyes go as he answers and how long it takes him to respond. If he refuses to look at you or takes a little longer than he should to say he's alright, he may be struggling even if he claims to be fine.

Thankfully, there are very easy ways to bring Belphie a bit of comfort. Offering to nap together or cuddle is by far the easiest method and he will rarely refuse the opportunity. You can also make plans to go some place with him and Beel. Spending time with his twin will significantly improve his mood, at least under most circumstances.

If he and Beel are not currently on speaking terms, this could be another reason he's upset. Helping to resolve the issue should bring him back to good spirits, so do so post-haste.

Belphegor is a melancholic individual on principle. Though you may want to see him be cheerful more often, to some extent that’s just not a part of his nature. Don’t blame yourself if you can’t seem to get him to appear happy most days, the chances are that just having you there is doing more for him than you could ever know. Just remember that when he says he loves you he does, in fact, mean it.

[yan-twst]

Could I get yandere dorm leaders reacting to a reader seeking refuge from them though another yander dorm leader? Thanks so much you're the best!

i’m gonna assign the og couples (as in, who the darling is running from) as i think would be more interesting for the plot! hope you don’t mind

warning: general yandere themes, vague mentions of violence

riddle rosehearts 

riddle has assumed that his crush had dropped out, gone missing; his obsession had been cut before it could truly bloom 

sure, he’d been jealous of azul for nagging the one he loved, but... well, with how quickly they disappeared, riddle didn’t even have time to become deadly jealous

but now... his crush has shown up to the door of his dorm one rainy night, crawling and desperately banging against the door. riddle hadn’t expected this- ever- he’d assumed someone had broken curfew and had gotten locked out: however, when he sees his once beloved, he’s so shocked he doesn’t even ask why they’re there, letting them in

riddle’s anger boils when his crush tells him what happened- azul held them captive, he forced them to act like his lover, the punishments... 

however... if his darling expected for him to set them free, they were wrong

riddle will try to find a way to make azul regret his decisions; however, having his darling in his arms triggers his own obsession

it’s going from a cruel master into another cruel man’s grip. riddle will apply strict rules, curfews and limit the places his darling can even walk to; he says it’s for his darling’s protections

they don’t want to be found by azul, do they...? so they better obey his words

leona kingscholar

leona had never cared for malleus’ lover; he hated them because he hated malleus, plain and simple. however, he wasn’t about to put any energy into actively making their life difficult- one day, they simply stopped being seen around NRC, and leona assumed they’d either broken up with malleus or dropped out

so when one day, they desperately run into savanaclaw and practically cling to leona, he’s quite curious as to what the hell happened

malleus... so the damn fae held them captive, huh? he can believe it; after all, malleus did have some nasty rumours... to think he’d hold a person captive as his lover, and use sleeping curses to keep them captive... damn- the man is a monster, isn’t he?

but don’t confuse his comment for pity. oh, sure, he thinks malleus is gross for doing what he did- however...

... well, if malleus is so obsessed and desperate for his darling, wouldn’t it be the ultimate “fuck you” to take his beloved as his?

he doesn’t see malleus’ escape darling as a poor victim, rather a token to use in order to make malleus miserable

he’ll mark them, cuddle them, treat them like his mate: at first it was just to revel in the fact he was tainting something malleus thought belonged to him, but as time passes, leona grows attached to his new plaything. in fact, too attached- if they thought malleus putting them to sleep was torture, they’ll begin to dread even making leona vaguely angry

azul ashengrotto 

this man’s greed knows no limits. he’s heard rumours of kalim’s beloved: how the rich heir loves to show them off, how he dresses them in expensive clothes and parades them around in his parties, but said lover is never seen outside of these parties, by kalim’s side

of course azul wants them. to him, kalim’s lover seems less like a person and more like a jewel- another show of opulence by the asim heir. and god, does azul want that

so when one day, he leech twins lead a weakened person into the VIP lounge, and this person turns out to be kalim’s beloved jewel... azul is exstastic

they want to escape kalim, they say? the revelation is shocking to him- why would they want that...? oh, so kalim keeps them captive? he’s stolen away their freedom...? interesting, interesting... so they want protection from the asim heir, to not be taken captive again...

yes, of course he can do that! why, just sign a contract, and he’ll promise that kalim won’t ever lay a hand on them again

... because they’ll be kept captive in his room now, guarded by the leech twins

he feels like he’s just won the biggest jewel in the world. at first, he just keepts them because of the power it gives him- he could surely get quite a lot of wealth out of kalim using his darling no? but... he gets too attached

he’s decided on not letting kalim get his darling back: by now, azul is desperately in love with them. they went from the frying pan and into the fire- compared to how kind and considerate kalim was, azul’s erratic treatment will be hell for his darling

kalim al-asim

kalim didn’t even know idia had a partner; the outgoing dorm leader has trouble connecting with the neet leader of ignihyde

however, when a weakened and a bit bruised shows up to scarabia and pleads for him to protect them, he absolutely doesn’t care he doesn’t know who they are- he quickly gives them refugee in the large dorm

he’s horrified to learn what idia did. keeping them captive so they couldn’t run from him...? forcing his darling into staying on a relationship with him...! that’s horribly! no matter how much idia loved them, he couldn’t do that...!

when he sees how terrified idia’s darling is of being found by idia, he’ll do all he can to protect them; he gives them their own room, asks jamil to guard them... and he spends most of his free time with them, so he can reassure them they’ll be fine

his presence is so reassuring, idia’s ex darling won’t even notice how kalim is slowly growing obsessed, or how he’s slowly cutting their freedom once again

it’s for their protection, isn’t it? they understand, right? everything he does is because he cares for them and doesn’t want them to fall back on idia’s hands!

surely, going from being locked in idia’s room to the grand, palace-like rooms where kalim keeps them is like going from a small birdcage to a mansion; but a cage is a cage, and they are trapped with kalim all the same

vil schoenheit 

vil was always of the opinion leona didn’t deserve his lover- the evil queen believed that such a beautiful person wasn’t fit to be dealing with such a lazy man who didn’t take much care of himself. however, he mostly just voiced his opinions to rook- once leona’s darling stopped being seen, vil assumed that his partner had made the right choice and left

oh, how wrong he was

when leona’s darling arrives to his dorm, interrupting his beauty sleep, vil is horrified by their state. they’re weakened, bruised and battered- their eyes look full of fear and panic as they beg for him to let them in, before leona finds them, please-

vil fusses over them. what a brute leona was! he’ll huff and rant about how he always had a bad feeling about leona as he nurses his darling back to health

and hm... as he had thought, leona’s ex darling is truly beautiful- he silently thinks it’s no shock leona did what he did. after all, such a beautiful person would be a terrible loss if they were to leave, wouldn’t they...?

he also quite likes caring for leona’s ex-darling: doing their makeup, getting them clothes, they’re like a doll, aren’t they...? he loathes to think one day they’ll be fine and leave- god, he hates it...

... so he begins to administer love potions with the smoothies he so kindly makes them every morning.

go on, drink it all; they need to regain their strength! oh, isn’t he so kind? yes, yes, he’ll accept their affections with open arms, so go on! he’s drunk on hearing how much his darling loves him

idia shroud 

of course leona knew who vil’s beloved was. the man had his little doll everywhere in his social media- idia has a crush on them, but what the hell can he do? it’s not like he can measure up to vil... 

so when vil’s darling shows up to his dorm’s door, nervously glancing around and be let in, idia doesn’t even hesitate

he’s way too giddy- enough so to make vil’s ex feel a bit unsettled... but, he does offer them refuge, a room to stay in, food, and safety; he at least seems genuinely heartbroken when they tell him their story

to think... someone so idolized like vil would do that... idia is heartbroken; how had he not realized? surely, if he looked at pictures of vil’s darling every day, he should have noticed something... how had he not noticed their glazed-over eyes, telltale signs of a love potion in work?

but... if someone as loved as vil had to keep his darling using those methods, then- how was someone like him even supposed to not have his darling run away when he confessed...?!

his snapping seems almost random; one day he’s promising to keep his darling safe from vil, the next day they have a thick, long chain keeping them trapped in his room

it’s a shame, really. when vil kept them, he used love potions to keep them obedient and loving- and at least the love potion made them think they were happy and in love for a while. but idia just keeps them; already convinced they won’t ever love them- they’re prisoners in his room, to his deranged obsession

malleus draconia 

in some sense, malleus envies heartslabyul students quite a bit. they all seem to be quite close, always hosting tea parties and unbirthday parties... to him, who lives such a lonely existence, he can’t help but look at riddle and envy how his dorm works

he’d seen riddle walk hand in hand with another student some times, but he didn’t even know their name- to him, it was just yet another thing he couldn’t have due to his reputation

he finds it odd when riddle’s darling runs up to diasomnia one night, terrified and beat up. they wish to be rescued, so they come to him...? he’s surprised that they would come to him, of all people- but of course, he promises to protect them

having his darling not leave the diasomnia dorm, and always by his side is just part of protecting them. since riddle’s darling was so used to being subject to riddle’s strict rules and harsh punishment, this treatment by malleus almost feels like freedom

he grows attached quite rapidly; he rarely gets to spend times with others, so to have someone cling to him for safety... it’s addicting, almost. 

soon enough he’ll have sebek and silver make sure his darling doesn’t ever leave, and he’ll have lilia help out as well: by now, his darling has probably realized their mistake. malleus isn’t their saviour- he’s just another obsessive, protective monster.

[belit0]

Okay hear me out something really really and really dark with indra 🤭 Like you “cheating on him” ( Reader didn’t probally just some weirdo mailman arriving at theyre mountain home asking for stuff and the reader lets him and somehow they make it into the bedroom?? 😭) and indra comes in and it just becomes really dark

"something really really and really dark with Indra..." 

My brain didn't need much more to create something completely bizarre and sickening.

TW: Non-con, kidnapping, blood, s3x with a dead man lmao.

The night was short, too short for your liking. You always get this feeling when Indra is absent when his presence is so far away he is not even perceptible in the scope of your reach.

If your man is with you, you know when the sun goes down the torture begins. Upon meeting him, you never expected such a handsome countenance could carry so much evil inside. And although he claims to want you, at this point you understand all he wants is absolute possession over you, he is not interested in pursuing your love or seeking your adoration.

But of course, whoever fell into the clutches of such a beast, and to make matters worse, voluntarily as you had done, had no way to escape. Who would dare to face the mighty Otsutsuki? He who would make people run in dismay at the mere sound of his name.

Trapped in the depths of an isolated forest, you had given up any hope of ever walking the earth freely years ago. There was no way to evade the surveillance of your partner, who was everywhere with the secrecy of a feline.

If you had the courage to try to run, to scream for help, what awaited on feeling his hands around your neck was even worse than death. He always got what he desired, and the only thing he had craved was you.

It took several frustrating attempts to free yourself that led you to be brutally clamored by him on the forest floor, while his grip left bruises on any part that had contact with your skin. The scene ended grotesquely, as he carried you back home as if nothing had happened. Your bloody form, with clothes torn off and a few bones, were broken by Indra's violence, lay fainting on his arms, time after time.

Eventually, you understood that there would be no point with such an approach when in your last try it all got too much and he decided to break both of your wrists to make you stop resisting. The recovery was long, and when you were back to normal, you decided to succumb to being used every night rather than savaged that way.

But now, as you sat looking out the window, you thought to yourself. Indra had left on a trip weeks ago, and as usual, it was unclear where he was heading. Escaping would be imprudent, for perhaps it was all a test, a made-up situation to see how you would react to such a prolonged absence.

Forgetting the matter, you got up to the kitchen when a loud noise on the outside caught your attention. Resuming your previous position, you watched as a man with long black hair fell to his knees a few feet from the door, dropping to the ground and barely holding himself up with his hands.

There it is, Indra's damned testing.

Rushing away from the window and leaning your back against the wall, you gasped for breath, trying to calm yourself. As sorry as you were for that human being, you knew that your partner would appear at any second and cruelly end his life. He was simply trying to make you take a false step, tempting your big heart and your ample generosity.

Minutes that felt like an eternity passed, as the pleas for help grew lighter and lighter and the volume diminished.

No one was attacking.

The man continued to kneel, trying to reach the house.

Unable to endure, you decided to betray your preemptive alarms and ran out of the house. This person was severely wounded, unable to move or walk on his own. 

A sense of security assaulted you as you helped him in and laid him down on your bed, while you analyzed the wounds and the origin of the blood.

No one was attacking!

It was a tough job to put the man's battered body to rights, but after extensive treatment of his wounds, he was no longer in danger and regained his breath, still lying on Indra's pillow.

And with that, the man grabbed you by the nape of your neck and leaned you over him, causing the lips of the two of you to gently meet. It wasn't like Indra's touches, it wasn't possessive or unwanted, it was romantic, gentle, warm, and beautiful.

"You saved my life and I don't even know your name..."

"No need to exaggerate, gentleman. Had I left you there, you probably would have woken up after a good few minutes, I simply relieved the pain. As for my name... I regret to say that I cannot reveal it."

"A beautiful mystery... in that case, there's no need to know mine either."

The temperature rose, not taking long to exchange tongues, and avoiding to climb on top of him because of the state of his poor body, you lay down on your side of the bed, where Indra had taken you countless times.

Not wanting to let go, you simply let him handle the moment.

After a slight hesitation, he pulled away and looked into your eyes, asking permission to do it again. Licking your lips, it was you who initiated the action this time.

Hands danced everywhere, and clothes were lost with speed. He had you mount him, making it clear he could not exert himself too much due to lack of strength. Not wanting to argue against that logic, you sank on his erect length with a moan, while your eyes closed tightly.

You only opened them when you began to feel your orgasm approach, seeking eye contact for more pleasure. But you were disconcerted to see that his gaze was fixed on a corner of the room, to which your back was turned.

A pleased smile graced his features, not even paying attention to you.

"This way is fine, boss?"

Your blood froze in understanding.

Indra's test.

But what you didn't expect was for the man beneath you to suddenly become completely paralyzed, as a muffled THUD rang through the room and the hot liquid splashed your face and chest, as well as your arms.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a kunai was thrust into his forehead, killing him on the spot. A quick instinct assaulted your muscles as you tried to pull the slain man's limb out of you and run, getting away from your partner and trying to save yourself.

Now, this was the worst situation in the world.

There was no way you were going to pull through this.

But a huge, strong hand grabbed your hair as he noticed your intentions, pulling you down on the man's body and extracting the murder weapon with the other hand.

Tears began to stream down your cheeks as your hands closed over his wrist, futilely trying to make him let go of your hair.

"Unsightly..."

"Disgusting..."

"It only took you a second of my absence to jump on a bastard's cock. I knew you were an insufferable fucker from the way you cry and beg for my touches, but now I see it's your natural way of acting...you're just a whore, aren't you?"

It has been a long time since you realized how your rejections towards his actions were perceived and qualified as wanting, where Indra's reality was completely distorted.

"I...N-N-N..."

You can't get your tongue to move properly to outline his name, trying to defend yourself somehow. Ironic, for that heated muscle had danced shamelessly seconds ago across the man's lips lying beneath you.

"Shut your ungrateful mouth you rotten filthy bitch."

Your face is pressing against the man's neck, being held still by Indra. The blood dripping from the mortal wound on that person's forehead oozed down your features, mingling with your tears.

"Is this what you wanted? It takes a worm-like him to make you realize who you belong to? A damn misfortune that cute little cunt of yours has been desecrated in such a manner."

And as your breathing continued to heave and your body was convulsing in revulsion because the murdered man's limb continued inside you, you didn't notice Indra's weight on your back until it was too late.

"I allowed this hole to remain virgin waiting to be taken when my first son was inside you... The notion of fucking you along with my offspring was wonderful, but as you won't outlive this, I'll give myself the treat I've been depriving of."

You can feel the tip of his cock exert pressure on your ass, and even as a dead man lies beneath you both, filling your pussy, Indra has no trouble getting fully hard and forcing his way into you.

Holding your neck with both hands, his chest is pressed against your back as his waist slams viciously over your form, making you cry out in pain and getting halting pleas for mercy from your lips.

Everything is a nightmare.

Indra is a nightmare.

And even with the dark picture in that room, with your face smeared in The Otsutsuki's latest victim's blood, you hear his breathing pick up pace, grunts coming from deep in his throat as his dick mercilessly works your tight channel.

The man's length beneath your body lost its rigidity, uselessly stuffing you.  

You have no idea how much time elapsed in that assault, for your consciousness shut down a few times and you were forcibly awakened by his slapping.

Eventually, his seed mixes with the blood coming from your not-so-virgin opening. Beastly sounds are heard from behind you as your eyes close in defeat, tears continue to fall unchecked.

And suddenly the last sensation you experience in your life is that of such abuse. 

Accompanied by the sharp cold metal teeth of the kunai that slits your throat and robs you of your last breath.

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Stars In Your Eyes Chapter 1

For the @jaytimweek  Day 1: Space Pairing: JayTim Rating: Mature Notes: I had hoped to have this done completely but health and my muse wanting to make it longer derailed those plans but I love JayTim in space to much to quit. Warnings: One scene of suicide and talk of victim blaming. Summary: Tim along with his friends take to the stars for a "short" break and mission only to decide to stay. When the Outlaws begin looking for them it becomes a chase among the stars as Jason and Tim take on an interesting and unique way of flirting. You can also read it on AO3

After a fallout between him, Dick, Bruce and the others Tim had set out to prove that he could fly on his own only there were those who wouldn't let him, his true family vowed to be with him every step he took.

Staring out the window there were days that Tim could hardly believe that this was his life now. To see the stars and planets up close. To see nebulas colours twisting and twirling around one another creating sights to behold.

"These are the voyages of Young Justice, seeking out those who would harm the innocent and basically just be jerks. To kick some ass and save the day while looking awesome as we do it."

A long-drawn-out sigh escaped Tim as he heard Bart start to narrate their day again, "I should have never let you watch Star Trek." Tim muttered into his hand.

Conner let out a laugh at Tim's comment, "Dude, you made us sit through and watch Star Trek and Star Wars so we could see how epic they were and get our opinions on which franchise is better." Tim's so-called best friend reminded him.

And okay Conner was right about that once Tim learned that neither Bart nor Conner had seen either Star Wars or Star Trek he had made it his mission to change that and now he was regretting it so much.

Tim had hoped when he found Bruce that things would change, that Dick would take apologize for his actions, would want him back as his little brother. Would stand beside him and speak to the Justice League that he was wrong as were they for turning their backs on a teenager who had lost everyone he loved.

But none of that happened.

Tim knew that Dick had a lot on his plate, stepping up to be Batman as well as raise the demon brat but he thought that Dick had missed him as much as he had missed his big brother but he had hardly spoken to him.

That added salt to the open wounds Tim was still carrying. So when a Raven suggested that Tim take a much-needed break one that would do Kon and Bart good as well, coming back from the dead could mess a person up and it was best that they take some time to heal.

Plus no one was brave enough to say no to Raven, if she wanted you to take a break you would even if that break ended up being in a demon demission.

Bart still had his hidden space ship and Tim had seen how much Jason enjoyed being out here and it had truly helped him to control his pit madness.

It was supposed to be a two-week trip then they ended up helping stop kidnapping and then they saved a planet from being enslaved and then something else came up and now they had been in space for six months and none of them were in a hurry to head home.  

Somehow they had managed to become Space Vigilantes.

And as Tim glanced around looking at Bart, Conner, Cassie, Cass and Helena looking at home on the ship and then done to Dex-Starr that was purring away on his lap Tim realized that it had been years since he felt this at peace.

Jason had always thought that he was going to remain the black sheep of the Wayne family he never thought that his perfect replacement would tell Bruce and Dick to go screw themselves, give up his claim to the Wayne name and take off with his best friends into parts unknown.

Of course, that didn't mean that just because Tim was done with them it didn't mean they were done with Tim of course it had taken three months Tim returning to take Cass and Helena with him before it sunk in their "family" thick heads that Tim was serious he wasn't coming back. So when Oracle failed in hiding them they turned to their last resort.

A loud laugh escaped Jason as he stared at the face of his so-called brother, "You want me to help you find the kid that you tossed aside for the demon child who tried to kill him more than I did? Who from the moment he arrived used Timmy as his verbal, emotional and physical punching bag and to this day still does. You have got to be kidding me Dickface. Tim did the smart thing and the healthy thing to get away from that toxic and I ain't dragging the kid back to it."

Jason couldn't understand Dick when it had been him riding the pit madness and Talia's poisons whispers in his ear trying to kill Tim Dick had been protective and willing to go one on one with Jason but when it was Damian he was basically victim-shaming Tim into not being okay with Damian's treatment of him.

A sigh escaped a tired-looking Dick and Jason would have felt sorry for him if this wasn't of his own making. And if he hadn't seen the damage Damian's treatment and Dick, Bruce and even Alfred's lack of setting boundaries first hand.

Jason had been searching for Tim for a while. He wanted to make amends with the younger man. He had heard about the fallout between Replacement and the rest of the Bats but the last thing he expected was to see Tim standing on top of Wayne Enterprise's arms spread out wide as he took a step off of the ledge and let himself fall.

Jason could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he forced himself to go faster, he couldn't be late he had to catch Tim. Too much blood had been spilt and he wouldn't let another Robin die.

Once he had Tim in his arms did Jason remember how to breathe. Landing on the nearby roof Jason ripped off his helmet, "What the hell was that replacement?"

Haunted blue eyes looked up at him, "Why did you save me, Jason?"

At that moment Jason felt like he was back in his coffin.

The look in Tim's eyes and the lack of emotions still haunted Jason to this day and he might not be able to do much but he can keep Tim safe.

"Look Jason, I get that things haven't been easy for Tim but it is time that he got past his tantrum and returned home." Dick couldn't understand why Tim was acting like this and to make matter worse Raven and Gar were refusing to talk to him about Tim and about allowing Damian onto the team.

Frustrated that they were just going around in circles Jason ran a hand through his hair, "Look Dickie I  know firsthand what training with the league was right and I know the demon brat had it rough but until you set boundaries for him, ones that include not trying to kill his brother, or using him as an emotional and physical punching bag I ain't helping you find Timbit."

Dick fell to his automatic defence, "Damian has changed and Tim is older." He winced at the look not only Jason gave him but also Roy and Kory. "Look I know Damian can be a little much but he has changed so much."

"No one is denying that you haven't worked wonders with the brat but you are still blind to how he treats Tim and that isn't healthy." Jason countered.

"Also have you gotten around to fixing Tim's standing in the hero community or is he still called the insane Robin?" Roy spoke up he had experienced firsthand what it was like to be the black sheep of the hero community, to hear the whispers and judgemental eyes watching your every move waiting for you to screw up and he refused to let Tim go through that as well.

The wince that crossed Dick's face was answer enough.

A soft sigh escaped Kory as she looked at her one-time love, "Dick, there is no denying that you had much to handle when we thought Bruce was lost from wearing the cowl to raising an abused boy that you let Tim slip through the cracks. Tim had lost so many in his life in a short time that losing Robin, his place in the community and his big brother all at once has left deep scars that have yet to heal."

Jason and Roy saw the effect that Kory's words had on Dick as he looked ashamed, "He had me." Dick whispered.

"Did he?" Jason demanded. "Because I remember he had a big brother that told him a neglected and abused teen that he needed to take the kill attempts, the verbal and emotional abuse from Damian because he was older. Because Damian's horrible upbringing somehow made Tim invalid. That he as the victim should just take it because how dare he wants to feel safe in a place he once thought of as home with the people he thought of as family. Only to be tossed aside and ignored as he was repeatedly attacked. Until you can look me in the eye and tell me that you have talked to Damian and the rest of the heroes I won't be helping you find Tim." With that, Jason cut the communication with Dick.

Letting out a sigh Jason relaxed back into his chair.

"So what are we doing?" Roy asked.

They had heard rumours of a bunch of teens, teens that happened to match the description of a certain team of young heroes who had taken off for a mission only once it was completed they sent back a message that they were staying in space helping out others and they weren't that far away.

Opening his eyes Jason's lips curved up into a smile as he purred out, "We have a bird and his flock to hunt."

[inqorporeal]

hi! i just read through your mandalore theory, and it's FASCINATING, i love it! any thoughts on Satine herself?

(The Mandalore Theory)

I have a LOT of thoughts about Satine, both meta and in-universe. If she were a real person, I can pretty much guarantee we would never be friends, but as a character she’s fascinatingly complex. I’mma put this under a cut, cus it’s going to be long.

Satine is a wealthy, privileged member of Kalevalan nobility, born and raised on Kalevala and educated on Coruscant. Her father, then-Duke of Mandalore, was likely rarely home when she and her siblings were younger, since he would have had to be resident in Sundari; the rest of the family remained on Kalevala for their safety, because the Mandalorian clan wars kicked off in 60 BBY when a number of Mandalorian clans rejected then-Mand’alor Jaster Mereel’s proposed social reformations and formed the Death Watch (the Wookieepedia says the clan wars started about 44 BBY, but if we examine the larger series of events, it’s pretty clear that things started much, much earlier). Satine hadn’t even been born at that time; due to the growing conflict, it’s understandable that the Duke’s family would have been housed elsewhere for their safety.

Satine’s mother and older sibling (the canonical parent of Korkie) are both unnamed but they’re also both presumed dead, likely victims of the Clan Wars. Eventually the Duke was also killed, prompting Satine’s involvement under the guard of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

At this point, Satine is a complete outsider to Mandalore. Kalevala effectively owns Mandalore -- it has its own king/queen, and provides political support to the New Mandalorian faction (it can be debated as to whether Kalevala originated as a Mandalorian settlement which eventually severed ties, or if it began as its own sovereign world and later adopted some Mandalorian social structures such as the clan system). Satine is not from Mandalore, has never lived on Mandalore, was not educated on Mandalore, and has only the barest, most watered-down connection to Mandalorian culture. Canon and Legends offer slightly different stories, but the important part is that the Republic backed the New Mandalorian faction and helped them to win the Clan Wars. Satine then effectively outlawed traditional Mandalorian society within the parts of Mandalore controlled by the New Mandalorians.

There’s something to be said for the way people react to childhood trauma, the way they deal with healing, and how it affects their relationship with the world as adults. Satine was a child when she lost two members of her family, and a teenager when she lost her father to the same, seemingly unending conflict. Her family has been caught up in this war since before she was born, and it’s entirely understandable that she would have a vested interest in ending the conflict for good, preferably forever.

But as a result, her policies are authoritarian, albeit with the blessing of the people who consider her their leader. The people who stay in New Mandalorian-held territory approve of her work -- everyone is probably sick to death from nearly 20 years of fighting by that point. It’s notable that, during TCW, the only New Mandalorians who actively fight back against Death Watch are the Sundari guard: New Mandalorian civilians never give any indication of owning weapons, armour, or the means for self-defense, and without the Republic’s support -- which Satine refused! -- are utterly steam-rolled by Death Watch over the course of the Clone Wars. Traditional Mandalorian culture has been completely wiped out of their society, and whether this was the ultimate goal of the New Mandalorian faction or if Satine’s own policies led to this point, the fact of the matter is that she was the nominated leader of the movement and approved if not encouraged the sundering of Mandalorian martial tradition. The factions that wanted to continue the conflict -- who refused to surrender their culture -- were banished to what are effectively penal colonies: if they wouldn’t follow the New Mandalorian way of life, they would lose their ancestral homes.

These are not the policies of a leader who seeks reconciliation and social progress; these are the policies of a colonizing force. This is the quintessence of cultural genocide, and Satine is depicted at the forefront of the movement.

On the meta end of things, the fact that a kids’ TV show tries to prop this up as an ideal is more than a little shocking. There was so much space to have an exploration of morality and cultural preservation in TCW’s depiction of Mandalore and Satine as its controlling authority, but they completely dropped the ball and instead went with a very two-dimensional depiction with zero critical discussion. And then showed New Mandalorian pacifism failing Satine’s people repeatedly anyway; good job, Filoni.

Satine has her reasons for her policies and her treatment towards a significant population who should, in theory, also be her subjects. But it’s important to recognise the distinction between having a reason for one’s behaviour, and having a responsibility to address that behaviour when it’s hurting others (or oneself). When one is in a position of holding power over others -- whether in a management position, leadership role, parent or teacher -- it’s even more crucial.

My thoughts on Satine are that she’s a terrible person, secure in her perceived moral superiority, who never shows any indication of ever questioning whether her personal morality is actually what’s best for the hundreds of thousands -- if not millions -- of lives she’s responsible for. She places personal morals above necessary diplomatic compromise; and blames the resulting conflict on the people whose lives she effectively spearheaded the ruination of. If everyone would just do things her way, everything would be better! Whilst she deplores physical violence, her noncombative policies still enact violence against people who hold different values, and in this way she is as uncompromising as her opponent, Pre Vizsla; they both lead cults of personality by sheer force of will.

(A side issue for me with regards to Satine -- which is a far more personal issue than anything objective -- is her treatment of Obi-Wan Kenobi. She displays an incredible lack of respect for his culture -- which is consistent for her established characterisation -- and the way she constantly negs him reminds me of the way my asshole ex could never say anything positive about me. They’re set up to be an ideal for how Jedi should handle attachments and love, as a contrast to Anakin and Padme’s relationship, but I can’t see anything romantic in it.)

But you know what? As a character in a piece of media, I like her. Media desperately needs more complex characters like Satine, particularly female-presenting characters, who are frequently given only two dimensions and one of them is “pretty”. She had a role in TCW that could have been very nuanced with the room to explore a very controversial topic, had the writing been up to the task.

And then the showrunners killed her off for the sake of another character’s manpain. The New Mandalorians -- her cult of personality -- doesn’t even fall apart without her in charge, the way cults of personality are wont to do in real life! The manner of her death serves no real purpose at all in the larger plotline; she could have been killed by anyone else at any other point and it would have had the same effect on Mandalore. Nothing changes there in the year -- a full year! -- between Satine’s death and the Siege of Mandalore at the end of the Clone Wars. Satine could have been kept alive in captivity; she could have gone into exile; the results would have been the same, or possibly even more interesting.

I think Satine is an awful person. I also think that -- as a complicated, contentious, controversial character -- she was underused and underdeveloped, and deserved a hell of a lot better from the storyline than how it treated her.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 5

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3777

Author’s Note: Eternal thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. Decided to give Wednesday posting a try and also get a chapter up a little earlier to make up for lack of posting. Be prepared to brush your teeth after this one. The fluff morphed into cotton candy when I wasn’t looking. Also, be prepared, the next chapter is short, but...intense? Yes. Let’s say intense. 

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 5

Kimber drifts gradually back to consciousness, feeling warmer and safer than she has in decades. She draws in a deep breath, stretching luxuriously, and then stilling suddenly. This bed is not her bed. This blanket is not her blanket. She has a brief moment of panic before she opens her eyes to find Dean’s face inches from hers, smooth and relaxed with sleep.

She’d only been able to let him go last night long enough for him to grab his own quick shower and change into sleep clothes. Then, in wordless agreement, they’d settled under the covers of her bed. They’d woven limbs together, pressed close without a word of discussion or thought of awkwardness. 

Just as she was falling asleep, she felt his cheek press against the top of her head, and he’d murmured a single question. She nodded her consent, and his lips met her forehead, just as soft and warm as she remembered. Then sleep asserted its claim.

Kimber lies still in Dean’s arms now, afraid to move and wake him. She’s never seen him this peaceful and relaxed, even back before life took more of a toll on him. With his guard down, she can finally see all the fine lines etched by a hard life spread over his features, adding depth and detail to his face. 

In the early morning light filtering through the threadbare curtains, she can just make out a sparse sprinkling of gray in his hair, and she smiles. Time may be catching up with Dean Winchester, but he is definitely not worse for wear. 

She shifts a little, freeing a hand, and he grumbles in his sleep, his arms tightening for a second before relaxing again. She strokes his hair back gently, combing her nails lightly across his scalp, and he shivers against her. 

She’s never seen him this vulnerable, this soft, even when they were younger. She has to strangle down the urge to trace his facial features with her fingertips. Whatever this is between them is strained by absence and misunderstanding but has somehow managed to survive the years. Touching him so intimately without his knowledge or consent…

No, she thinks. I want to ask him, I want him to hear him say yes. I want him to ask me to touch him.

Instead, she snuggles closer, closing her eyes and resting her face on his chest again, basking in the safety and warmth of his embrace for as long as she can. She is mortified when, five minutes later, her stomach lets out a growl so loud that it actually rouses Dean from his sleep. His arms tense as he stretches and frowns, eyebrows lowering with concern.

“You hungry or just really happy to see me?” he rumbles, his eyes closing again. She giggles, embarrassment abated. Then she becomes acutely aware of the rat’s nest that is her hair and what tastes like a truly horrific case of morning breath. She disentagles herself from his legs and rolls from his grasp, smiling to herself at his muttered protests. Snatching her previous day’s clothes, Kimber slips into the bathroom to perform whatever damage control she can manage under the circumstances. 

Thirty minutes later finds them at the diner across the parking lot, downing coffee with mutual, silent appreciation. Dean’s brother Sam is expected imminently, and Kimber has no classes or office hours today, so they are mostly ready to begin the investigation.

“We need to sweep your office and house for hex bags,” Dean says, between sips of his second cup of coffee. “Your house will take a while, so why don’t we start with your office to get it out of the way?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kimber agrees, frowning. “I’ll know if anything is missing, out of place, or new. Maybe you and Sam could check out the spots of the other accidents?”

Dean opens his mouth to answer, then his eyes focus on something over her shoulder, and he nods a greeting. She turns to see a ridiculously tall man in a suit headed in their direction. It takes her longer than she’s proud to admit to reconcile this giant stranger with the slumped, defeated boy she last saw in the backseat of the Winchester’s car.

“Sam?”

His smile is warm, if a little hesitant, and she stands. They fumble between a hug and a handshake, finally settling on the former before seating themselves. A waitress drops off another mug for Sam, along with coffee refills all around, and they waste no time filling Sam in on the little they know and what they have planned.

“Actually, Sam,” Dean adds, glancing askance at the egg white omelette the waitress places in front of his brother, “I was thinking you could interview the victims at the hospital, see if they noticed anyone out of the ordinary or had contact with anyone that sounds like our stalker.” 

Sam nods, his mouth full, and turns questioning eyes on Kimber. She closes her eyes, pushing as much distraction from her mind as possible.

“He was...on the shorter side. I’d say I probably have an inch or so on him. Younger than me, but I don’t know by how much. I’m really bad at judging age, I’m sorry. Unshaven but not a full beard, kind of rough-looking. Really pale. He never looked me in the eyes, so I didn’t see his eye color. Dark, shaggy hair.”

She shrugs, spreading her hands in apology. “I don’t remember much else. Dark blue windbreaker? It’s been a few weeks, and I didn’t think I’d have to point him out in a line-up or anything.”

Sam shakes his head quickly, swallowing. “No, Kimber, it’s fine. That’s more to go on than we usually have. I’ll talk to the victims, see if anyone stands out in their minds. You two have a solid plan. I’ll give you a call after I visit the hospital, see what I can find out.”

He hesitates, his eyebrows knitted together. “Kimber, I know you’re under a lot of strain, but could you go over the incidents one more time so I have the basics before I go talk to them? I wouldn’t ask, but I need to know what to expect.”

She can’t repress the shudder than runs through her stomach, but she shakes it off and rolls her shoulders. This is just an information exchange. She can handle that. She may need a drink or two afterwards, but she can get through it one more time.

Sam listens attentively, his forehead wrinkled, mouth set in a thin-lipped frown as she recounts the series of accidents plaguing her department. He exchanges some sort of troubled, wordless communication with Dean before glancing down at his folded hands. After considering for a long moment, he speaks, his words measured and careful.

“It definitely sounds like someone has a grudge against your department, at least, if not you specifically. All the victims are friends or work closely with you. We don’t know if any of the other victims got a doll like yours. That’s something for my list. You sure you can’t think of any reason, anything at all, that might make someone target all of you?”

She shoves down her mounting frustration, feeling impotent and slow. If she could think of anything at all helpful, she would have shared it by now. 

“I really can’t, I’m sorry. I just don’t interact with that many people outside of the department, and we all get along fine, as far as I know. No special treatment, no recent honors anyone could be jealous of. I checked in with my hunter contacts that I’d helped out with witch cases in the last few years, even a few non-witch cases that were still open, and I got nowhere with that. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Sam sighs, nodding before finishing the last of his coffee. “Figured it was worth asking. Okay, I’m heading out. Dean, I’ll give you a call in a few hours.”

Dean nods to Sam, and the younger Winchester excuses himself, crossing the crowded restaurant with a few long strides before disappearing out the door.

Kimber turns back to Dean, her eyes wide with shock she’s barely managed to suppress until just now. He frowns, taking in her expression, looks down to inspect his shirt, then back up, his face comically confused.

“What? Do I have food on my face?”

“What did you feed him after you left town?!” Kimber keeps her volume low but can’t keep the wonder from her voice. “Growth hormones? Steroids? Jesus, he’s over a foot taller than the last time I saw you both, and he was already thirteen then!”

Dean barks out a loud, sharp laugh that earns him a reproving glance from a passing waitress. He bites his lip, covering his mouth with his hand, only partially successful at smothering his snort. She can’t help but smile, a little embarrassed at her outburst, but still…

“No, just lots of fast food. Good, healthy, all-American diet. Almost had to get a full-time job, just keepin’ him fed and clothed. Kid grew out of shoes and jeans like nothin’ I’ve ever seen.”

There’s no mistaking the fondness in Dean’s voice, almost more paternal than brotherly. And the off-hand comment about keeping Sam clothed and fed...Kimber’s heart twinges, but she carefully keeps her face as relaxed and amused as she can.

“Ready to go?” she asks. He nods and stands, lifting the check from the table to take up to the register. He offers her a hand, an inviting smile curling one corner of his mouth, and she does her best to smother the butterflies in her stomach as her fingers slide into his.

…

“I promised Sam I’d go to opening night,” Dean said, something like an apology in his voice. “He’s only working tech, but he’s really excited. It’s been a while since we’ve stayed anywhere long enough that he could get involved like this.”

Kimber squeezed his fingers, pulling her coat closed with her other hand. The temperature had dropped over the last few days, and the evening was brisk as they walked hand-in-hand to the high school.

“Dean, are you kidding? You’re taking me to a play, dinner, and meeting your family all at once. Three birds with one date!” She skipped a little, swinging his hand with hers, flashing him her most exaggerated grin as she let her eyes go wide and kooky. He snorted, glancing away to hide his smile.

He stopped suddenly, tugging gently until she stepped closer, her expression relaxing. His knuckles slid gently down her cheekbone and under her jaw, lifting her chin. He kissed her, a sweet, chaste brush of his lips over hers that sent her pulse dancing. Her cheeks warmed under his attention, and he pressed his lips a fraction more firmly against hers before straightening.

His eyes sparkled in the light from the streetlamp overhead. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

She popped up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, marveling at her own bravery as her hands clasped the sides of his face, locking him in place. Before he could recover, she grabbed his hand, tugging him into a run down the sidewalk, and they arrived at the school, breathless and laughing. 

The performance of Oklahoma! was pretty standard for high school. Simple dance sequences, fair to decent singing (for the most part), and about forty minutes longer than Kimber preferred. They waited afterwards for Sam to make his way from the lighting board, and he shyly offered his hand to Kimber, who accepted, smiling and squeezing his fingers just a little.

The three of them arrived at the diner, relieved to see most families were celebrating at the more expensive restaurants across town. Sam looked over the menu, his eyes as hungry as the growl that escaped his stomach. Kimber didn’t miss the sad look he shot Dean before closing the menu and setting it down. 

When he ordered an ice water and peanut butter sandwich, Kimber’s heart cracked. 

“Sam, it’s my treat tonight. You did a great job; Mrs. Hasker never lets eighth graders work the soundboard, so go nuts. Order whatever you want. It’s your night.” 

Sam, eyes wide with hope, glanced at Dean, who looked torn between shame and relief. Dean cleared his throat, shot a grateful smile at Kimber, then nodded at Sam. 

“You did good, kid. Go for it.”

Sam’s face brightened, and Kimber couldn’t help but mirror his expression as he ordered a strawberry milkshake, double cheeseburger, and cheese fries. Kimber discreetly jabbed Dean in his ribs, and he side-glared at her, suppressing what was very definitely not a manly squeak of surprise. 

“You, too, big brother,” she said, her eyes narrowing pointedly. His lips thinned, his expression pinched. She knew she was hitting a nerve for him; it was fine to accept dinner invitations at home, and fine for her to treat his little brother, but paying for him on a date was an entirely different matter. He visibly wrestled with the simple decision, frustration and pride warring with want.

She softened her expression, placing her hand over his clenched fist. “Please?” She mouthed. “It’s okay.” He glanced at Sam, who was happily chatting with the smiling waitress about the performance, and a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Dean’s face. 

“Double-bacon cheeseburger, and chili fries, please.”

Dinner with the Winchester boys was a delight that Kimber never forgot. Though Dean teased his younger brother mercilessly, liberally sprinkling descriptors like “geek” and “nerd” in his comments, she saw the way his eyes would linger on Sam as the younger boy inhaled his meal between answering questions about his classes and the performance.

“Are you going to take AP classes, Sam?” Kimber asked. He seemed so keen and motivated, she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t want to.

“I want to, but we move so much, I don’t think I could keep up with the curriculum,” he admitted, his expression falling. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kimber lowered her voice conspiratorially. Sam leaned a little closer, intrigued, and she smiled at his eagerness. It was like looking at a mirror of herself just a few years ago.

“Most AP classes follow the same guidelines across the country, almost week by week. Mr. Schaeffer is the AP coordinator at our school, and he’s pretty cool for a teacher. If you talk to him, explain your situation, I’ll bet he could get you copies of most of the AP curriculum, maybe even some spare textbooks, so you could keep up with it as you guys move around.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Dean for confirmation. Dean shrugged, affecting disinterest as he leaned back to drape an arm around Kimber’s shoulder. 

“I dunno, Sammy,” Dean drawled, “but Kimber’s the top of our class, so she’s probably got some idea what she’s talking about.” He let out an exaggerated huff of air as Kimber’s elbow connected with his side, doubling over as he pretended to fall out of the booth. 

Sam peppered Kimber and Dean with questions about their classes for the rest of the night and didn’t even have to be convinced to have an extra large slice of celebratory pie to finish the meal off.

The three of them stayed late enough at the diner that Kimber was obliged to call her parents on the pay phone in the corner to assure them that she had not, in fact, been kidnapped and left in a ditch on the side of the road. The temperature had dropped considerably, so when Kimber’s mother offered to give all three of them a ride home, Kimber accepted without thinking.

“My mom will be here in about ten minutes,” she announced as she slid back into the booth. “She’s going to give you two a lift back to the motel on our way home.”

Dean’s expression fell sharply, and Kimber’s heart sank. 

“You didn’t-”

“Thanks!” Sam said, unintentionally speaking over Dean. “It got so cold out all of a sudden. Say, do you think I should talk to Mr. Schaeffer tomorrow?”

“The sooner the better,” she said, shrugging on her coat. Sam nodded, slurping down the last of his drink and loping off to the bathroom. She glanced over at Dean, who was sitting stone-faced, a muscle twinging above his jaw.

“I didn’t mean to...I mean, I should have asked, Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean’s eyes closed, his jaw clenching as his lips pinched tight. Kimber waited, feeling the sting of tears prick at the back of her eyes. She’d crossed some unspoken line between them, and she didn’t know what to do to fix the moment. It had been such a good night, up til then.

“I...I’m not mad...at you,” Dean finally ground out. “Just...just gimme a second.”

He scrubbed his face with both hands, then glanced back towards the bathroom before speaking. He kept his eyes on the table-top, his hands clenching and unclenching on the cheap formica.

“I’m not...used to accepting hand-outs. I can take care of Sam, Kimber, I don’t need...you didn’t...you didn’t have to.”

She opened her mouth, fully ready to defend herself, but he held up a hand. 

“I know. I know what you’re going to say. I get that it’s not a hand-out. I know you don’t...I know you aren’t lookin’ down at us. I’m not used to…”

He cleared his throat, then reached out to her, his eyes still firmly on the table-top. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick, his words measured. 

“I promise, I’m not mad at you. Can we leave it at that for now?” He turned pleading eyes in her direction, his hand palm-up on the table. Her fingers were in his before she realized she’d moved. Mouth too dry to speak, she nodded and allowed herself to be pulled up from the booth.

Sam came barreling back from the restroom then, saving them from further awkward conversation, and they bundled up against the chill. By the time Kimber’s mother arrived, Dean had relaxed enough to greet Mrs. Harper pleasantly, and when they reached the motel, he leaned up to kiss Kimber’s cheek before climbing out of the backseat with Sam in tow.

The next day at school, Dean was a little distracted, almost distant. He walked her home that afternoon in almost complete silence. They were a block from her house when she couldn’t take the tension anymore. She stopped short, biting her lip as tears stung her eyes. To her shame, her throat started to clench, choking any attempt at words. 

Dean looked back at her, concern and confusion clear on his face at her sudden stop. 

She swiped the heel of her hand across her cheeks, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry about last night,” she managed, less coherently than she would have liked. “I didn’t mean to...I didn’t...I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

Dean was in front of her in an instant, thumbs wiping the tears from her face, lips pressed fiercely against her forehead. 

“No, sweetheart.” His tone was rough and resolute. “I told you I’m not mad at you. Last night was...Last night was wonderful. I haven't seen Sam that happy in a long time. It’s been a rough few months. Sam and Dad have started fighting. Dad expects a lot from him, but not the usual good grades kind of ‘a lot.’ And when Dad pushes, Sam pushes back, and I…”

He dropped his forehead to hers, and Kimber pulled in a shaking breath.

“I didn’t want to drag you into our mess. You are perfect, and Sam and I both had a great time last night. Thank you. For dinner. For making Sam so happy. For everything.” He pulled back a few inches, catching her gaze. “Please don’t apologize again.”

She nodded, unable to answer aloud. He searched her eyes until he was satisfied, then nodded.

“ ‘M gonna kiss you now, so Imma need you to hold back on the tears for a minute. People will think I’m a terrible kisser if you cry through the whole thing.”

She laughed, and he caught her off guard, pressing his lips to hers before deepening the kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head until he found an angle to please them both. His tongue swept, feather-light, across her lower lip, and she melted.

They came back to Earth a few moments later, jolted from their universe by enthusiastic honking and shouting from a passing car full of guys from one of their classes. Kimber hid her blazing face against Dean’s neck as he nodded, grinning and waving at the other boys.

Instead of pulling away, Kimber linked her arms around his neck, shivering against a biting breeze that swept past. Dean’s arms constricted, pulling her close enough that she felt his heartbeat against her chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dean whispered, his words nearly lost in the breeze. Then he pulled away, linked his fingers through hers, and walked her home. He kissed her once more on her doorstep, holding her face between his warm, calloused palms, eyes closed. 

He rested his forehead against hers briefly before stepping back. He tried to deliver that smooth, carefree grin from their first study session and failed miserably.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said. Then he turned, flipping up the collar of his jacket, and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he headed down the walkway. She watched him go, wanting nothing more than to run after him. The set of his shoulders, the tense bend of his neck, told her to hold her ground, though. 

Something else was eating at Dean, and she knew him well enough to know that needling him wouldn’t get him to open up. He needed space and understanding, and she would just have to sit on her frustration. He asked for so very little, the least she could do was give him some time to work through whatever was going on. She just hoped it wouldn’t take too much time for him to open up. She hated seeing him so distant and miserable. 

When Dean finally turned up that evening, he was thirty minutes late for dinner. His father glowered at the pair of them from the driver’s seat of a sleek, black muscle car, while Sam slumped, miserable, in the back. Kimber realized with cold, painful clarity that they had, in fact, no time left at all.

…

Chapter 6

[catsnuggler]

What didn't help my whole subconsciously-missionary-minded, silent-echoes-of-Mormonism socialism illusion, which made me think it would be selfish and wrong to demand my own liberation, was the misapplication of standpoint epistemology - put simply, when "identity politics" goes bad.

Putting the rest under a cut, because this is a long post.

While it's crude and ultimately incorrect to only say, for example, "Listen to Black voices", without emphasizing the critical thinking skills and empathy necessary to listen to Cornel West, and dismiss Candace Owens for the right-wing corporate hack that she is, what is for certain is that someone like me, a 100% white American settler of Mormon pioneer stock (on one side of my family, anyway), and with no formal education on the subject matter, doesn't have authority to speak on the experience of Black people in America. I have no argument against that, because it's true.

Continuing further, just because, in spite of the fact neither racism nor colonialism oppresses me, capitalism still does, this doesn't mean I have as much authority to speak on it as a Black member of the working class does, as anti-Black racism and capitalism compound on and depend on each other, making the lives of Black working class people more difficult than the lives of white working class people. Doesn't mean I can't speak on capitalism, just means I'm not the leading voice.

That being said - I'm going to talk as if I'm still a believing Mormon, let alone Christian, in this and the next paragraph, to better explain the subconscious workings of my mind, due to their brainwashing - the difference in our positions can be wrongly perceived, especially by someone raised in the illusory colonial missionary mindset, similar to the position of those with "the gospel" and those "of the world", where those with "the truth" have more, but are, like all, oppressed by "sin", yet at least believe themselves to have the knowledge and wherewithal to resist, while those "worldly" people aren't blessed with the wealth of God's Word, nor the solidarity of the church, and are thus further deprived of the perfection God desires for his children than those of His Flock already are, and must be ministered to, brought into the Fold, and Saved from On High.

Yet there must ever be a humility to such actions, there must ever be self-denial, for all are imperfect, even those in the church, as, just as Christ shed His blood, and allowed His flesh to be pierced, even to His death, in limitless sacrifice for the sins of all of the Children of Men, that they may be redeemed, so have countless socialist, communist, and anarchist revolutionaries died for the cause, and yet all who live, who do not seclude themselves from the world and its markets, facilitate the continued exploitation and robbery of each other by the capitalist class. All are imperfect, and all would deserve bondage and bloodshed, were it not for the bleeding hearts of the martyrs.

So, you see, even someone who consciously attempts to reject Christianity can still fall victim to its logic, even after abandoning the official doctrine of it, if proper safeguards against the general thought processes of it are not taken. Returning to the original point I've tried to raise, I've fallen for a long time to a Christian-esque stance of personal martyrdom for the sake of "saving others" to the point I believed pursuing my own liberation would be selfish.

I'm mentally ill and neurodivergent to the point that getting myself to even get into the habit of seeking jobs is difficult, much more so landing myself an interview; and getting an offer of employment? Only happened once, at the end of my first interview. As you predicted, the job sucked, they were desperate to hire me because it sucks, and it wasn't 3 months before I quit. I quit in late September of 2018. It's been almost 3 years of me not having a job.

I got my driver's license in mid 2019, but got into a minor parking accident that only broke a headlight on the car I drove, and didn't damage the other car, in September of that year. It was over a year before I drove again, because of the depth of my depression and anxiety over one accident, which cost about $150. Since January of this year, I've driven somewhat regularly, and have some measure of confidence, but am still anxious every time I'm behind the wheel. I could drive to and from a job, if needed, but it would be a while before that would be comfortable.

I still live with my dad, at the age of 23, and barely have any friends where I live anymore; those local friends I still have, I haven't seen face-to-face for a long time. My dad... my dad could die any day, and I would be royally fucked. Something happened earlier this month, and he wasn't healthy before, but this was really serious. He amazingly got away with few symptoms, and can make a full recovery with the right effort, except... it could still happen again, it would just be less likely. If it does, he could die. Again, I would be royally fucked. I don't know how much his treatment cost, but I know it must be a pretty penny. There's only so long I can continue like this.

Due to my dependence and general impotent state, I can't do a goddamn thing for what I believe in right now. I have to fight self-hatred with the argument that if I die, I'll have died useless and unhelpful, when I could potentially have kept living til I got my act together and finally done something helpful before passing.

I have a college degree. Not a "real" degree, in the sense of it mattering, but I have an Associate degree, DTA. No major; I never could figure out what I wanted to do. It would have been a close call between anything in political science, which would have led toward a government job, which would be unacceptable as an anarchist, or perhaps a professorial job, teaching would-be politicians and bureaucrats, hardly educating anyone of revolutionary intent; or something in chemistry, perhaps biochemistry, leading to some kind of colonial agrichem shit, or making expensive medicines nobody would be able to afford for private entities' profits, possibly having research appropriated by Uncle Sam for weapons purposes - I don't know, but none of that was appealing. I graduated community college with Honors, as a member of the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. I could have had promise as some or other kind of technocrat or bureaucrat - but I wouldn't be able to live with myself. It seems the less one is exploited, the more they exploit others. I don't know what job I can take that would exploit me enough that I wouldn't hurt others so much, while leaving me alone enough that I wouldn't kill myself, which... which has been a temptation, at times. Not too strong, but it is fucking there. I have promise; at short-term memorization and obedience, at least, like a mongrel dog who can read; but no conviction, no confidence, and a surplus of fear.

There are more woes I can recollect, I can continue this pity party in a book, but enough of that. Suffice it to say, all this time, I should have wanted my own liberation. Colonized people (in an American context, Turtle Island Indigenous and Black) have it worse, LGBT* people have it worse, women have it worse, physically disabled people have it worse, people with greater mental disabilities than my own have it worse, and I can't lead any of their struggles. But I do have the right to demand my own liberation, and I shouldn't convince myself otherwise.

*I don't oppose the use of the other word, except people of my demographic have abused that word so goddamn much, I don't want to type it, myself, let alone say it. It's always tainted when it comes from those who aren't of that community. Please don't think I'm either a radfem or a libfem just because I didn't use that word. I support people identifying with that label in using it.

This post became increasingly personal toward the end. However, I hope my flawed perspective, perhaps unique (read: unrelatable) in some aspects, perhaps explaining, at least in part, some of the fucked-up mental hurdles of white socialist "allies" that we need to get our asses over yesterday, might help - whatever I might have illuminated, and whatever I surely missed. I can understand why someone might want to share and add, share and criticize, or leave this alone with a like, nothing at all, or an unfollow.

Not that I can prevent this from being shared in any way, except by not posting in the first place, but I'm okay with it being shared by other socialists, for whatever it's worth... although I understand the more traction it gets, the more likely I'll get anon hate about being full of myself (deserved, to an extent at least), for being some dumb socialist cuck (not exactly wrong, but rude, and likely from a Nazi, so fuck you), or perhaps from non-Mormon Christians accusing me, someone they'd call a Mormon (which is arguably almost a new ethnicity (not race though) as much as it is a religion) of daring to throw the Christian god and Christianity, in general, under the bus, accusing me of being in league with the devil. So be it.

If you're not a reactionary, nor a liberal, nor somewhere in-between, and you want to share this for some reason or another, you may do so.

[dapandapod]

All kinds of pointy

Soooo I asked for prompts, and kindly enough innocentcinnamonpun stepped up and offered me this:

“ Funny interaction with feral!Jaskier being outraged over peoples treatment of Geralt who’s soft ™ for his protective bard? <3 thank you " 

I just finnished it, it’s three in the morning, and I had so much fun.  You can find it here on Ao3 or down below.

And Im sorry, I might have strayed a little. Soft maybe inched its way towards just a little hard. Just a little.

Enjoy! _____________________________________________________

Things have most definitely changed since the bard entered his life. Calm nights at the taverns is but a memory. Wherever they go Jaskier sings loudly, flirts shamelessly and demands that every eye focus on him when he performs.

Most of all, Jaskier accepts no insults. None at all. And it turns out that this flowerysmelling man with a garment in every possible colour is fierce while defending their honor. Geralt quickly learns it is a safety measure to not give Jaskier a dagger. Less dead bodies that way.

It happens all the time. A snide comment in passing, a raging youngling with too much confidence, an innkeeper denying them a room. Every time it does Jaskiers hackles rise and his eyebrows get all kinds of pointy. An indication of murdertime and for Geralt to step in and save some lives.

His bard is truly not to be trifled with. It warms him in all kinds of ways that probably isn’t normal. He is not used to feeling cared for like this. It’s nice. He keeps those moments in a special place in his mind.

When Geralt is alone he still thinks back to the moment when someone dared tell Jaskier red is not his colour. It still cracks him up, honestly. “You will regret saying that, you impotent, slow witted, assfaced ratsarse!” The face of a snarling bard, eyes shining with rage, is a terrifying thing to behold. If Jaskier had fangs, he would without a doubt have ripped the offenders throat already. And if Geralt weren’t actually holding onto his doublet at those times, he might very well have tried.

Smiles can be a deceiving thing. You are not safe when Jaskier smiles, no matter the fluttery feelings it might have given you. Like that time Geralt insulted his singing. “Like a fillingless pie, you say?” Jaskier swaggers up to him, a smile stretched across his lips, his eyes taking in the witcher, up and down. “Alright. I can take criticism.” Geralt knows for a fact nowadays that he can’t. He didn’t know then. He wasn’t scared of that smile yet. Jaskier puts a hand on his shoulder, takes a breath. “You know, that song I wrote about you? Toss a coin and all that? Let me write you a better one, my dear witcher.” Patting his shoulder and walking past him, Geralt feels a false sense of security.

In the next tavern they set foot in, Jaskier performs a song about the benefits of chamomile for tender witcher behinds. Geralt never, ever remarks on Jaskiers singing again, and the song is blissfully forgotten.

~

They are in a tavern in a nondescript small town somewhere in the south, their patrons a loud and brutish sort. It is almost tradition that at least one patron throws an insult at Geralt in these kinds of places. He would be more worried if they didn’t, it would most likely mean that they were planning something worse. Insults are good. And when the insult came, he was lulled into a false security.

Jaskier gets spitting mad again and stops his performance mid song to actually throw a piece of bread at the brute. Geralt smiles into his drink, expecting this to turn into a shouting match. Jaskier is extremely good at outwitting tavern lowlifes.

Sadly, there is no shouting match. There is nothing actually, and the evening carries on without more disturbances. But when Jaskier goes to take a leak he is gone for a suspiciously long amount of time. He can see all the barmaids and there are no men that seem to be Jaskiers type here tonight (the slightly older, brawny type, preferably with a longer hairdo he noticed) that have gone missing with him. So Geralt deems it safe to go look for him.

And finds him and three of the men from the bar in confrontation with Jaskier.

One of them holds a knife, and Geralt can see Jaskiers eyes gleam even from where he stands at the door.

Shit.

The bard quickly and deftly disarms the man with the knife, just like Geralt showed him years ago when he still thought the bard was in need of assistance.

And this is where Geralt realizes Jaskier means business, because he tosses the knife up in the air and catches it again in a very showy fashion.

Shit shit shit, Geralt has to stop this now. He hasn't seen that move since they met Jaskiers arch nemesis, another bard named Valdo Marx. The other bard had sent brutes to trash Jaskiers beloved lute before a music competition and boy, did Jaskier not take that well.

Jaskiers grin is feral, he is showing all of his teeth and whoever said the pen is sharper than the sword needs to have a talk with this man. “So tell me again lads. Do you still think the lumpbrain with the eyes the colour of piss needs to come save his whore bard? Really, is that the best you can think of?”

There is a fluttery feeling in Geralt's gut. One he normally refuses to acknowledge making a reappearance.

And this time it is impossible to ignore. It tingles, burns, coils, whatever creative metaphor you want to use. Geralt is not the poet here, he is but a victim. There is something wrong with his face, because he can feel his frown go away and be replaced by something soft and not at all fitting for a witcher.

That is also the moment when Jaskier looks up and spots him.

And fucking winks.

One of the brutes takes a step forward and that is Geralt's cue. Geralt moves at the same time as Jaskier.

Time to do hero stuff.

Body language may not be his forte, but he can read fighting. Jaskier will slaughter them.

So he rushes forwards, grabs Jaskier round the middle and hoists him over his shoulder. “Oii, what the fuck Geralt?!” Jaskier protests, but Geralt pays him no heed.

Geralt tips his head in greeting when he passes the three angry men and with big steps walk them to the inn a few streets away. Luckily they seem in no mood to pursue them.

Jaskier splutters, flails his arms, and Geralt takes a firmer grip around his thighs to keep him from falling off.

“I can walk! I have legs! Let me down you absolute lumpbrain!” Jaskier complaints loudly and Geralt snorts. “Don’t forget eyes colour of piss please. Promise not to run back and mutilate them?” Jaskier clicks his tongue and Geralt can practically feel the eyeroll happening. “Tch. No.” “There you have your answer.” Geralt smiles, patting Jaskiers butt.

And then he have to forcibly make himself not freeze up, because that stirred up something in his brain he did not intend.

He just touched Jaskiers butt.

Jaskier seems to have the same struggles, because he lets himself be carried without more complaints.

And now it is kind of awkward. Should Geralt carry him all the way inside the inn? Put him down now, confirming how very awkward he suddenly made it?

Always helpful, Jaskier helps him make the decision. “Alright. I promise.” He sighs, and Geralt lets him down.

And something must have been fundamentally broken after that wink and that pat, Geralt has no filter between mouth and brain anymore.

“Will you walk beside me or do I need to hold your hand?” Geralt says. He must be drunk. That must be it.

“Stop teasing me.” Jaskier mutters, changing the grip on the knife he is still holdning.

“Or what?” Geralt smirks at Jaskier, and hell, did he learn nothing?

Jaskier whirls on him, pushing him up against a wall, knife still in hand. If Geralt really wanted, Jaskier wouldn’t have been able to do that. He can easily break the hold, push him away, but the thing is… he doesn’t want to. It’s thrilling to have him this close, to be at his mercy.

“Or I will tease you.” Jaskier murmurs, his breath hot against Geralt's face. “I see the way you look at me. You like it when I talk back to them.”

Yes. Yes Geralt likes that. And fuck, he likes this too.

Jaskier leans in a little, their noses almost touching. They are almost of the same height, Geralt having only a few more inches on the bard. Jaskiers blue eyes miss nothing, a wide smirk breaking free on his lips.

“Say it, Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, and Jaskiers hands on his shoulders, his all-kind-of-pointy eyebrows, that fierce glint in his eyes, it does things to Geralt.

Geralt surgest forward, grabbing Jaskier and pulling him against himself. He kisses Jaskier desperately, and he can’t tell which of them is growling, but it doesn’t matter. Jaskier lets the knife fall and kiss him back, all teeth and tongue and fierceness. A hand is pulling at Geralt's tunic, seeking skin.

“They were right.” Geralt says between kisses. “Red isn’t your colour. You should take it off.”

Things are definitely still changing.

~~

Bonus:

Geralt is a peaceful man in general. His threshold is so much higher than his bards. But there are exceptions to every rule.

“Man, that is the dumbestlooking fucking horse I have ever seen.” “Hold my beer.” Geralt growls, pushing it over the table towards Jaskier. Nobody talks about Roach like that. “Geralt! NO!”

[purplezebraproductions]

The Alters: Chapter 2

The Alters is an original romance story I’ve been writing for the past few months. Please enjoy Chapter 2!

Sparks Fly

CW: Lots of swearing, and discussions of war.

It had been a few days since Dinn and Creed resolved to spend their time in this small part of the Infinity. As desperate as The Being had been for their work to be done quickly, it seemed it was taking much longer than they’d hoped. They’d spent most of the first day just waiting by the portal to see if anyone would show up. It was as if they couldn’t move, or breathe, and barely think. They were just anchored to their spots. And yet, nothing happened. The two ended up crashing on the couch for the first night, but after waking up with stiff necks and sore muscles, it was obvious they needed to start creating a home for themselves.

The Infinity was akin to being trapped in a windowless doorless room. Despite its size the place was barren of any life. No sounds emanated from the void. Creed, having become accustomed to the sound of the birds waking him up in the morning, and Dinn, already used to the constant sirens that plagued the city streets at all times of the day, were deeply unsettled by this discovery. Walking through the white nothingness was almost mesmerizing. They’d become so entranced with the way in front of them that when they’d catch a glimpse of the other in their peripheral vision it would only make them jump.

Dinn had decided to start setting up structures he knew they needed all at once. Not only beds, or toilets, or fridges, but creating bedrooms, restrooms, and a kitchen. Creed worked a bit more slowly. He created singular objects as they came to him. Being guided by Dinn’s walls and partitions that separated the rooms he would tuck in objects wherever there was space. From important objects such as stoves, and showers, to small amenities like potted plants, and books.

Creed seemed insistent on getting rid of the complete lack of smell that surrounded them. Yet, the plants, the candles, even the trash they would accrue would never have an odor. Dinn couldn’t understand where this obsession came from, but Creed seemed adamant in adding what seemed almost impossible.

Despite this, after a few days the two men found themselves occupying a somewhat livable though barren space. They had both important furniture that allowed them to feel somewhat normal, as well as some decorations that gave them comfort. And though they felt anything but normal, they were content to know they could just relax for a while until someone else showed up.

However, in spite of all of their progress Dinn was becoming rather irritated with Creed. Creed had not spoken a single word to him since that first day, and he would barely look at him. Dinn knew that his presence wasn’t something Creed was expecting, nor was it something he expected Creed to immediately enjoy; but now that they’re stuck in a world with no life and no sound, the silence from the only other living creature was not only deafening, it was maddening. How could Dinn possibly make up for past grievances if Creed wasn’t even willing to talk to him? Was he just supposed to talk to a wall and expect it to understand?

This wasn’t how he expected his time in the Infinity to start, and it was exceedingly frustrating.

Dinn caught sight of Creed once again heading out into the exposed area of the Infinity. The area they had claimed as their temporary home was only a fraction of what this piece of the Infinity had to offer. Just outside one of the back doors laid the huge expanse of white that enveloped the area. Creed was currently standing just outside their home, seemingly enjoying the view of the few blank trees that he’d set up there. He’d really rather look at bland white forms of trees than Dinn? He’d rather spend time with barren objects than Dinn?

Dinn’s frustration was slowly becoming anger, and without a steadying thought, he too stepped out into the expanse and walked right up behind Creed.

“Enjoying the view?”

Creed jumped in his spot turning around quickly to meet Dinn’s gaze. He clearly wasn’t expecting Dinn to leave the makeshift home, let alone break the tense silence that enveloped the Infinity. With a steadying breath Creed’s look of shock settled back to a neutral look and he turned back away to his beloved trees.

“Really?”

Dinn gaped, taking a few large steps around Creed to stand in front of him. Did he really just turn his back on him without uttering a single word?

“That’s all you’ve got to say? Nothing?”

Dinn challenged. Creed’s face was a mix of shock and confusion, as if it wasn’t obvious that he’d been avoiding Dinn for the past few days despite everything that happened. Or rather, had he not expected him to say anything about it? Dinn had been quiet and reserved when he was in Creed’s home because the place was unfamiliar to him, but this wasn’t Creed or Dinn’s home. This was a place neither of them knew and so they were once again on the same playing field.

Creed gaped for a moment, but once again shut his mouth and retained his neutral look. This only angered Dinn further.

“Are we going to talk or not?!”

He shouted, his voice echoing in the barren wasteland.

“Oh, so now you want to talk?”

It had been the first words Creed had spoken in a while, and they were laced with venom beyond his years.

“What changed?”

Despite his chiding remarks Creed’s face still held the same neutral look. Dinn didn’t like this. He didn’t like how Creed was able to remain so calm, it made him feel like the crazy one. The ex who couldn’t handle the thought of the other moving on. But that wasn’t him, that wasn’t them.

“Quit acting like a child Creed! If we ever wanted to fix anything we have to talk to each other! Both of us, not just one!”

Dinn spat back. Creed chuckled, his face utterly bemused.

“Excuse me? I’m a child? And what exactly do you mean by we?”

Dinn couldn’t stand the laughing. What was so funny about their situation?

“How is the silent treatment not childish?!”

He shouted.

“And yes WE! I don’t see anyone else trying to fix a relationship in this Hell hole!”

At that remark Creed’s chuckles became full on laughter. He was now almost doubled over holding his sides as he roared with laughter.

“Who said I wanted to fix this relationship?”

This made Dinn pause.

“What are you saying?”

“Dinn, you’re the one who showed up at my doorstep. You’re the one who came back into my life asking to talk, and ever since then you’re the one who’s said nothing. I was content living my life alone for the longest time. I didn’t go searching for you. I didn’t ask about you. I didn’t even want to know about you. What makes you think me allowing you into my home to explain yourself was me wanting to fix a relationship that ended five years ago?! If anything, Dinn, you’re the one giving me the silent treatment.”

Creed said all this while still lightly chuckling to himself.

Dinn will admit, he had taken Creed letting him into his home as a sign that he too wanted to repair their damaged relationship. That maybe he too had been feeling that old familiar pull towards each other, but just didn’t have the courage to seek Dinn out. He’d assumed that Creed was just as willing to talk things out and let bygones be bygones.

And yet, here he stood, laughing at Dinn, mocking him with the idea that reconciliation was on the table for both of them. Was Creed expecting Dinn to grovel and beg for forgiveness? For what? Being a human that makes mistakes? He couldn’t possibly understand what Dinn’s life had been for the past five years! How dare he assume otherwise!

Dinn could feel a sudden buzzing in his ears, rising to his scalp.

“So what, letting me into your home was all in an effort to placate me?!”

Creed straightened a bit, his laughter falling away, and his tone becoming a bit more serious. He was careful to notice the way Dinn bristled with his words.

“No Dinn, I have no reason to placate you. I have no reason to string you along. You came to me, telling me that you wanted to talk about what happened all those years ago, and yet I’ve been met with nothing but silence. In a way, it almost feels like you’re the one keeping me around.”

Now it was Dinn’s turn to laugh. With a loud chuckle he threw his hands into the air completely frustrated at what he’s hearing. That odd feeling now growing.

“So, what you’re saying is, you felt like you had no part in what happened all those years ago?”

Creed’s serious look morphed from shock to an irritated confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“You only expected me to talk? So what, you consider yourself some innocent victim who played no part in the destruction of our relationship?”

Dinn was getting heated. He could feel his body slowly pulsing with energy.

“Well, for a lack of a better word, fuck yes! I’m sorry, but I’m not the one who walked out on the other for no fucking reason!”

Creed spat, now he was angry too, just as Dinn wanted. Two fools fighting in a world where no one could see or hear them. And arguing is where Dinn’s anger thrived.

“Oh, so now you’re going to use the abandonment excuse again?!”

Creed looked utterly bewildered at Dinn’s words.

“Excuse?! It’s what you did! You abandoned me! You did so several times, and for some fucking reason I was always dumb enough to let you back in!”

“I can’t believe this.”

Dinn said suddenly exasperated, the beginnings of small sparks forming on his fingertips.

“Did you think I was talking about you when I mentioned those ‘innocent lives’ we would be protecting by staying in this shithole?”

Dinn was almost chuckling to himself now. The thought that someone who participated in a war to end all wars was somehow just another innocent was laughable to him. The sheer audacity! If Creed believed this, he certainly must be delusional. Creed shook his head.

“Of course I don’t, but we’re not talking about the war or this place. We’re talking about the bullshit that went down between us.”

Creed said reverting back to a frustrated calm. The way he could turn off his anger so easily irritated Dinn to no end. How could he have such a command over his emotions at a time like this?

“Well then, if we’re going to talk about abandonment then maybe we can talk about how you abandoned the other surviving soldiers! How come they haven’t heard from you in years!”

Dinn shot back. Truthfully, he hadn’t talked to the other survivors very much in the past few years, but he somehow had a small inkling that neither had Creed. Creed stiffened.

“I did as much as I could for my fellow soldiers. During and after the war! I’m sorry that I couldn’t be like the others! That I couldn’t be some morale booster during the tough times or some excitable child during the good times!”

And there was the anger bubbling up again. At the mention of the other survivors Creed’s attitude became dark. There was something else behind that angry shaking voice, but Dinn couldn’t pinpoint it, and at the moment he didn’t care. As the sparks danced upon his skin, Dinn responded.

“Oh, so you were just another piece of furniture who couldn’t get your head out of your own bullshit to corral other survivors?! Well then, maybe you were the one who deserved to die!”

The silence that fell was a weight almost too heavy to handle. It was almost like Dinn’s words were still echoing into the void, repeating again and again infinitely. Creed’s face had broke, but Dinn couldn’t tell his expression. His mouth gaped like a fish and his eyes darted back and forth, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, after a while he turned deftly on his heel and walked back into their makeshift home.

Dinn was left standing in the open, still on the brink of letting the force of his magic crumble the world around him. He swung his arms back and forth as if he was trying to hit something. The sparks that danced upon his skin ignited, sending small shockwaves out into the ether.

He was lost, could only see what was just in front of him. Because of that he didn’t see where they had gone wrong, where Dinn’s many failures created this hatred, this dismissal of him from Creed’s life. Likewise, he didn’t understand what was going through Creed’s mind. They’d been apart for a lot longer than he originally thought, and he couldn’t fathom why he was here now.

But as Dinn sat down to ponder his life choices, he began to hear his words echoed back to him. Words that he realized were said from malice and shame. Words that were directly targeted to break an individual, not to hash out any issues. And as he sat there, his internal temperature cooling and allowing him to realize the severity of his actions, he began to panic.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His heels echoed through the quiet halls of white. Cautiously he made his way through the winding tunnels, not sure where he’d end up. Every wall was the same, every step sounded just like the last. He’d never seen a place so barren of personality or love. How could this possibly be the place he was directed to by some higher power? He couldn’t believe it.

Just as he was about to turn back, he heard it. A faint whimpering somewhere in the distance. Somewhere through these white walls there was someone else and they sounded distressed. Gradually he picked up the pace, listening closely to the soft cries he heard and creeping around each corner. He swore he was getting closer as the cries grew steadily. At one point he felt like he was walking in circles. The cries neither faded nor intensified despite his constant movement.

He started to realize that he was indeed circling a room, he just didn’t know where the door was. Gingerly he ran his hands over the plain white walls all around him. It felt like an eternity before he felt a wall give to his gentle prodding.

Easing the wall open he found a small room, just as plain as the last dozen, but not exactly empty. The walls were decorated with picture frames with no pictures and lined with blank plants that grew tall. Small tables were scattered carelessly about with candles, vases, lamps, and plants placed carefully on each one. And in the center of the room was a couch where the crying individual currently sat. Holding his pale hands over his red face and still crying softly into his palms. He was turned away from the door and his long multicolored hair covered him up like a curtain of shame.

He stepped into the room cautiously, eyeing this poor pitiful figure.

“I don’t understand.”

He paused at the voice that came from the figure. It was so quiet, lost in its own sorrow.

“Why did you come back? Why didn’t you just stay the fuck away from me like you always did?”

He could tell the figure was angry, but it was a deep wet anger that was overshadowed by an unrelenting sadness. A sorrow that must’ve come from years of neglect that he was never able to face. Surely.

He stepped a bit closer and that’s when he finally noticed.

The man sitting before him sobbing quietly into his hands, all but losing control of his emotions, was Creed. Those small antlers, or horns, he never was really sure, were indistinguishable from the ones he once knew. Those markings etched across his face. There was no doubt that this was Creed, but what made it so off-putting was that he reminded him so much of his Creed. His Creed who he spent so long next to, devoted to. The person he loved to no end. Was he really sitting in front of him right now? How could it be?

“Did you comeback to redirect your anger at me? Do I deserve that?! Am I just a being for your vitriol?!”

Those words, the way he just spat them out with such anger. Who had hurt him to the point of such an unyielding misery? Who dared hurt his Creed?!

“Answer me dammit--!”

Creed’s head finally whipped around with such a force that swung most of his hair to his far shoulder. His face was stained with tears, his eye puffy and red, but his look was angry. But at finally turning to the person who stood before him, his look morphed to a sudden shock that racked his whole body. The candles that adorned them all sprung to life with purple flame. Creed stumbled to his feet backing away from the tall figure, knocking over one of the lamps on the side table just to his right. It crashed to the floor with such a loud sound, but it succeeded in holding no one’s attention. Instead, the two men stared back at each other.

“Who are you?”

Creed said, his gaze a mixture of fear and surprise. The other man could only stare back with a somber expression. All he saw was a man who had spent the last few moments crying over some bastard who sought to hurt him. He couldn’t stand to see his Creed unhappy, and this was almost too much for his heart to handle.

He resolved that he would be the one to make Creed happy again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinn still sat in the open expanse of the Infinity, steadily picking at blank white blades of grass as they grew to his will. It hadn’t sunk in what had just happened, what he’d just done. Probably because when his anger takes over, it’s almost like he blacks out. He struggles to remember what he said let alone that he ever said anything at all. This was a huge problem for him back when he was a soldier. He’d only been a somewhat higher rank than some of the other soldiers, so he always had to be careful about how angry he got around his superiors. Let alone his underlings that weren’t willing to put up with his bullshit on a personal level.

Perhaps now it would be just a tad bit easier to remember what he’d said, considering the only other person in this dimension at the moment was Creed. He knew the grievances he had with his ex, so he could hazard a guess what the conversation was about. That awful silent treatment.

However, now that he sat there, alone with his thoughts, he started to realize something. Creed hadn’t been speaking to him at all for the past few days, but Dinn hadn’t been talking to him either. When faced with what he believed was a complete dismissal he chose to fester in his anger for days. The moment he finally chose to break that silence, he came in like a raging storm. His words had to be harsh. He could hear himself yelling, screaming even, but he just couldn’t make out the words.

He needed to remember those words. Or at least a few.

There was something that he said that set Creed off. Something he said that was the final straw that made Creed turn away from him in that last moment. But what was it?

Creed wasn’t one to let his emotions control him, he was a calm individual.

Level-headed as far as he could remember. So, what had he done that broke that barrier?

Straining himself to remember even a modicum of the conversation, he recalled a few small snippets.

You’re a child!

Or something along those lines. How ironic, considering Dinn was the one who sulked around his ex’s house trying to gain his pity. Is that really how low he’d sunk? It had taken him so long to conclude that he wanted to see Creed again; that he wanted to know Creed again. And yet, the moment he got there he just froze up. Didn’t Creed deserve something, at the very least?

You’re not innocent!

What the fuck was this about? Innocent? Which soldier on either side could honestly say they are innocent and not immediately be struck down by some holy judgement for lying straight through their teeth? Innocent of what exactly? Dinn wasn’t an innocent man, and neither was Creed! At least, when it came to the war.

What else is there? What else could he possibly be innocent of? Dinn couldn’t conjure any answers for that argument. As far as he was aware that part of the conversation was unimportant.

You deserve to die!

Well, yes that is an awful thing to say, but it wasn’t something that would break Creed. Creed had asked the question himself, what if they do deserve to die? Not just him and Dinn, but everyone in the broken altered worlds. Why lose sleep over things that were not meant to exist?

But, as much as Dinn racked his brain, he couldn’t recall any other words he said. So those must’ve been the last words he said to Creed before he turned away once again. Before he left Dinn to his own devices in the open expanse of the Infinity. That wasn’t nearly enough of a blow, and Creed certainly wasn’t that sensitive! Was he?

No, he must be remembering wrong.

You deserve to die!

What was that he said? How badly did he hurt Creed?

You deserve to die!

The listless Creed who had honestly considered death the moment he was told to save the world would not hate Dinn for suggesting the same. He was sure of it!

You were the one who deserved to die!

Dinn nearly doubled over, his mouth filling with bile as he finally recognized the words he said as they rushed back to him. A sudden storm cloud forming all around him had shocked his senses back to life. He couldn’t, he couldn’t possibly have said that to Creed. His Creed! How dare he use that memory!

The memory of Donyun.

[morsking]

sometimes i think ufotable made a really big mistake making shinji a butt monkey in the unlimited blade works anime because turning him into a joke about how much of a weak whiny incel makes him seem harmless by having him be undercut by men who are far stronger than he is (gilgamesh, lancer, berserker). those men will always be there to give him his just desserts in a humorous manner, instead of how nasu dealt with him in the vn. nasu made shinji feel like a very personal and intimate villain. shinji might not be physically strong in comparison to a servant or to his heroic and human counterpart shirou, but he’s still very scary in a different sense. he’s scary in the way he thinks of other people and how he expresses those thoughts in his actions. 

the vn gives us an insight to how shinji’s mind works for the very first time when he meets gilgamesh in the matou worm basement. shinji ponders about how useless rider was and that it’s her fault he failed the first time. then his thoughts shift towards the unnamed “thief” (revealed to be sakura in heaven’s feel) who stole his place, and then naturally that logic train trails into thoughts about his mother. the fact shinji makes a connection between all of these individuals denotes a heinous misogynistic streak that’s been instilled within him by zouken’s teachings. and that manifests in the way he blames the women in his life for his situation, failings, and neglect rather than attempt to peer into himself and sift through his behavior and beliefs and hold zouken accountable for his own abusive upbringing of both shinji himself and sakura. 

the thing to understand here is that as zouken’s abuse victim shinji is also terrified of blaming zouken for anything or challenging him in any manner. but there’s also the fact that shinji seems incapable of understanding zouken really is at fault for everything that is happening. the patriarchal values of the matou family naturally teach the idea that the patriarch is always right, and as zouken has been the sole permanent patriarch for centuries, with other men being his subordinates, it’s clear that zouken devised that system for his own benefit. but because shinji sees himself as the rightful heir of the matou name, rather than sakura thanks to those very same teachings, he is the future undisputed and incontestable patriarch in his mind. he can never be wrong, and the very idea that he is at fault is not just insulting but patronizing to the most humiliating degree. if that isn’t worrying enough, there is the logical flip side to consider: if the patriarch is always right, and if the patriarch is always flawless, then the women must be wrong. and we can see that in the way the women in shinji’s life were treated, which is why we find ourselves in the matou worm basement when shinji meets gilgamesh for the first time. 

it’s in the matou basement where shinji’s mother died. after learning shinji was born with atrophied magical circuits, zouken wasted no time throwing her in there as food for the worms as punishment for failing to gestate a proper heir. zouken did not stop to consider whether he really was the last magus of his line, and because it’s not a doubt zouken would ever have about himself, it’s not a doubt shinji would ever have either. after all, his grandfather is flawless. the fault would never be pinned on zouken, nor would byakuya, shinji’s father, ever be blamed for also giving defective genetic material. with these standards, the only culprit they could ever find is shinji’s mother. take a look at how i phrased it the first time. “shinji’s mother failed to gestate a proper heir.” “failed to gestate.”  the implications here could not be more clear, and could not be more disturbing. shinji considers women having worth in only a single dimension: women exist to be objects. that is all they have ever been to the matous, single-use broodmares who don’t have a place in the formal matters of matou magecraft. they are unworthy of that involvement as if it was sheer biological fact. so when sakura, a girl, is named heir rather than him, he justifies that as sakura being a thief who stole shinji’s rightful position from him on purpose, rather than an abused, scared, injured girl who didn’t want any of the terrible things inflicted upon her. moreover, shinji doesn’t see the matou training as something horrific. if anything, he’s jealous of sakura’s treatment. he blames her for his neglect because she is a woman, who full of fault must also be full of selfishness and malice towards him. shinji is incapable of understanding sakura’s condition is appalling and inhumane, namely because he doesn’t understand what it actually feels like, nor does he want to. 

that then leads to the more difficult things to explore in the visual novel: his rape of sakura. because shinji only understands women as sexual objects, he develops violent vindictive tendencies towards sakura in the form of rape. to shinji, inflicting sexual abuse is his way of declaring superiority over sakura. in his mind, because she is a woman, she must be put in her place and answer to him and his demands. shinji rationalizes it as because he is a man, he is a rightful heir who deserves power, and because sakura is a woman, she is what power is meant to be used upon. shinji is capable of twisting the narrative between him and sakura in any number of ways to preserve that dynamic. in public, because she is his younger sister then he has control over her activities and social life. in private, she isn’t his younger sister. she’s his property, or how he puts it, a doll. it isn’t difficult to see why he would think of rin the same way he thinks of sakura. the same feelings of jealousy and entitlement he directs towards sakura are the same exact feelings he directs to rin, and inevitably any and every other women he interacts with. 

when shinji is running away from the einzbern castle, we get one final look at what goes on in his head before meeting gilgamesh again. shinji is furious, violent, obsessively thinking to himself that every single person other than himself is lowly, beneath him, and getting in his way. when he runs into gilgamesh, shinji berates him for allowing him to get hurt by lancer. shinji calls him useless, and rages on about how they can’t win now that there is no vessel for the lesser grail... until gilgamesh stabs a hole in shinji’s stomach with his bare hands and implants it within him. gilgamesh had made it clear to shinji in the matou basement. gilgamesh thinks of the humans of this era as vermin to be exterminated. either a few worthy will survive the grail’s apocalypse, or mankind will be judged to be wholly superfluous and ruinous if no one does. in his arrogance, shinji never considered that he would be part of the sacrifices. that is a palpable irony, that shinji would be betrayed by his own selfish and misanthropic worldview, and grotesquely to boot. 

knowing all of this, there’s nothing funny or harmless about shinji’s character or his internal logic. because with what we find out in heaven’s feel, the case is no longer that he intends to do bad things but is so incompetent there is no feasible way he could ever do them so long as stronger more virtuous men are there to stop him. the question is that he’s already done terrible things, and has been getting away with them for years. not just him, mind you, but zouken, the person whose approval he desires and the person he emulates the most. There is a final observation to be made with that in mind. That shinji seeks approval and validation from men other than zouken. He seeks approval and validation from shirou. but paradoxically, he also seeks shirou’s complete obedience as well. shinji wants to consider shirou a friend, but is incapable of treating him as such, because you cannot be friends if you always put a degree of separation between “patriarch” and “rabble”. the misogynistic double standard falls apart here, because not only is gender concerned, but class is as well. 

going back to an earlier point though, it’s important to remember that even if shinji hadn’t already abused sakura, he’d be no less dangerous for wanting to abuse rin. predatory intent is signifying of predatory thought, and potential predatory action. the very notion that harmful thoughts exist is in and of itself a breach of human safety. and a lack of safety is in itself violent and in need of serious preventive action. which is why shinji cannot be a joke in one anime adaptation and be depicted more seriously and threatening in another.

[purpledinosaur1988]

Ever been in one of those situations where you put your trust in the wrong person. Yeah me to. I used to be "friends" with this female who turned out to be TOXIC! She caused so many problems in my life to a point where she would use me to lie for her, watch her brat of a child. When I met my husband back in 2014, the toxic female would try her best to break me and him up. It was early days in our relationship and she would always expect me to drop everything including date night plans to help her out of sticky situations. After seeing the effects of how miserable I was being made to feel, my husband eventually got me to walk away from the toxic female and finally be happy. I felt so much better without being associated with her. We never spoke again, would avoid each other in public etc. Fast for to a few months ago, I was waiting on a bus to work, she approached me trying to use my child as a pawn to win back "friendship" by telling me that my son's nan had passed away, saying I was to unblock her as she missed me. Obviously I didn't unblock her from my socials and the next time I saw my son I asked his uncle how his mum (my son's nan) was and that I hadn't seen her in awhile, he answered saying she is still struggling with the whole pandemic but is much better than before. That cleared that up. The toxic female told me a malicious lie. I mean has she no better things to be getting on with than trying to get me to fall for her BS 🐂💩 again.

My life has improved massively over the years I have been with my husband, we met in 2014, engaged in 2015 & married in 2016. I don't have a big circle of friends and I am okay with that as I would rather surround myself with those who are positive influences to me. Those friends hold a special place in my heart ♥️ I have my 2 best friends who I have been friends with since high school so they are more like Sisters to me.

If anyone feels there are red flags in your life with certain people. Please don't ignore them as you deserve to be happy.

Signs to look out for

1. You feel on-edge around this person, but you still want them to like you. You find yourself writing off most of their questionable behavior as accidental or insensitive, because you’re in constant competition with others for their attention and praise. They don’t seem to care when you leave their side—they can just as easily move on to the next source of energy.

2. They withhold attention and undermine your self-esteem. After first hooking you with praise and flattery, they suddenly become reclusive and uninterested. They make you feel desperate & needy, ensuring that you are always the one to initiate contact or physical intimacy.

3. Plasters your Facebook page with compliments, flattery, songs, and poems. They text you dozens, if not hundreds of times per day. You come to rely on this over-communication as a source of confidence.

4. Quickly declares you their soul mate. And for some reason, you don’t find it creepy. They tell you how much they have in common with you. On the first few dates, you do most of the talking and they just can’t believe how perfect you are for them.

5. Compares you to everyone else in their life. Ex-lovers, friends, family members, and your eventual replacement. When idealizing, they make you feel special by telling you how much better you are than these people. When devaluing, they use these comparisons to hurt you.

6. Lies and excuses. There is always an excuse for everything, even things that don’t require excusing. They make up lies faster than you can question them. They will always blame others—it is never their fault. They spend more time rationalizing their behavior than improving it.

7. No startle response. Total absence of anxiety, fear, and worry where there otherwise should be. They are also very easily bored by the familiar. You write this off as calm and cool, often feeling inferior and over-sensitive because you have normal human emotions.

8. Insults you with a condescending, joking sort of attitude. Smirks when you try to express yourself. Teasing becomes the primary mode of communication in your relationship. They subtly belittle your intelligence and achievements. If you point this out, they call you hypersensitive and crazy.

9. Uses social networking to provoke jealousy and rivalries while maintaining their cover of innocence. They once focused all of their attention on you, but now they post ambiguous videos and statuses to make you doubt your place in their heart. They bait previously denounced exes with old songs and inside jokes. They attend to new activity and ignores yours.

10. You find yourself playing detective. It is never happened in any other relationship, but suddenly you are scrolling back years on their Facebook page and albums. Same with their ex. You are seeking answers to a feeling you cannot quite explain.

11. Surrounds themselves with former lovers and potential mates. Brags that their exes still want to sleep with him/her, but assures you there is nothing to worry about. These people make you feel jealous and give off the perception that your partner is in high-demand.

12. Hyperbolizes emotions while displaying none of them. They make passionate statements like “I have never felt so happy in my life” in a completely robotic voice. It sounds like an alien trying to explain how they imagine human emotions might feel.

13. You are the only one who sees their true colors. Others will think they’re the nicest person in the world, even though they are used for money, resources, and attention. They will not care because he/she strategically distracts them with shallow praise (often done over social networking). Psychopaths are able to maintain superficial friendships far longer than their relationships.

14. Accuses you of emotions that they are intentionally provoking. They will call you jealous after blatantly flirting with their ex over social networking for the world to see. They will call you needy after intentionally ignoring you for three days straight.

15. Cannot put themselves in your shoes, or anyone else’s for that matter. You find yourself desperately trying to explain how they might feel if you were treating them this way, and they just stare at you blankly.

16. You are engaged in constant conversations about their ex. You know them by name, and you know everything about their relationship—at least, your partner’s version of events. The ex becomes one of the most frequent topics of discussion in your relationship.

17. You find yourself explaining the basic elements of human respect to a full-grown man/woman. Normal people understand the fundamental concepts of honesty and kindness. No adult should need to be told how they are making other people feel.

18. Focuses on your mistakes and ignores their own. If they’re two hours late, do not forget that you were once five minutes late to your first date. If you point out their mistakes, they will always be quick to turn the conversation back on you.

19. Suddenly and completely bored by you. Gives you the silent treatment and becomes very annoyed that you seem to be interested in continuing the passionate relationship that they created. You are now a chore to them.

20. The ultimate hypocrite. They have extremely high expectations for fidelity, respect, and adoration. After the idealization phase, they will give none of this back to you. They will cheat, lie, insult, and degrade. But you are expected to remain perfect.

21. Sometimes it seems as though they’ve forgotten who they’re supposed to be around you. They adopt different personas for different people—transforming their entire personality to match various audiences. It is always very eerie when they slip and accidentally use the wrong mask for you. You will start to feel that their personality just does not seem to add up.

22. An unusual amount of “crazy” people in their past. Any ex-partner or friend who did not come crawling back to them will likely be labeled jealous, bipolar, an alcoholic, or some other nasty smear. They will speak about you the same way to their next target.

23. Flatters your deepest insecurities. If you are self-conscious about your looks, they will call you the sexiest person in the world. If you have got a need to entertain, they will say you’re the funniest person they have ever known. They will also mirror your greatest fantasies, playing whatever role is necessary to win your heart.

24. Frequently comments about what you are wearing and how you look. They try to arrange you. You become obsessed with your appearance, noticing flaws that likely don’t even exist. During and after the relationship, you will spend significantly more time in front of the mirror.

25. You fear that any fight could be your last. Normal couples argue to resolve issues, but psychopaths make it clear that negative conversations will jeopardize the relationship, especially ones regarding their behavior. You apologize and forgive quickly, otherwise you know they’ll lose interest in you.

26. Obsessed with humiliating successful, kind, and cheerful people. Delighted by the idea of breaking up friendships and marriages. If you work hard to maintain interpersonal peace in your life, they will make it their mission to uproot all of it.

27. Gaslighting. Blatantly denies their own manipulative behavior and ignores evidence when confronted with it. They will become angry if you attempt to disprove their delusions with facts.

28. They expect you to read their mind. If they stop communicating with you for several days, it’s your fault for not knowing about the plans they never told you about. There will always be a self-victimizing excuse to go along with this.

29. Selfishness and a crippling thirst for attention. They drain the energy from you and consume your entire life. Their demand for adoration is insatiable. You thought you were the only one who could make them happy, but now you feel that anyone with a beating pulse could fit the role. However, the truth is: no one can fill the void of a psychopath’s soul.

30. Your feelings. After a run-in with a psychopath, you will feel insane, exhausted, drained, shocked, suicidal, and empty. You will tear apart your entire life—spending money, ending friendships, and searching for some sort of reason behind it all.

We can find that normal and loving people do not raise any of these flags. After a negative encounter, most survivors face the struggle of hypervigilance: who can really be trusted? Our gauge will swing back and forth for a while, like a volatile pendulum. We all wonder if we have gone absolutely mad for wanting to believe the best in an old friend or a new date, but also feeling sick to the stomach when actually spending time with them.

It is important to develop our intuition, but that is a personal process. The world is mostly full of good people, and we suffer a double punishment if we miss them due to the fear of being hurt again.

People need to set aside some time to get in touch with their feelings, and become comfortable with a balance of awareness and trust. The reflection offers understanding about our emotions. It helps provide understanding for which old relationships need to be refreshed, and which toxic patterns need to be abandoned and replaced by healthier ones.

Society conditions us to ask “does this person like me” instead of exercising critical thinking and asking “do I like this person?”

[northamptoncouplestherapy]

For most couples, the path to marriage is the same. You meet, you spend time getting to know each other, and you fall in love. You discover life could not exist without your partner, so you get married. After marriage, masks are removed. You discover the true nature of the person you walked down the aisle with: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Perhaps you were aware of some of their faults during the courtship. Yet, you accepted them as they were. Maybe you even thought that they would change, or that you could change them.

Every couple enters marriage with the illusion of bliss. From the time a couple first says “I do” and checks into their honeymoon suite, the plans for their future are formed. Then, dreams are unfolded, and life happily-ever-after begins. But no couple ever considers that they could fall victim to a codependent marriage.

What is Codependency?

Every marriage will have struggles. From mortgages to who left the milk out, married life is not without conflict. Your marriage will be no different. What matters is how you handle that conflict.

Dr. John Gottman of the Gottman Institute states, “Conflict is inevitable.” He goes on to encourage couples saying, “It can be a way that couples get closer to each other if they can understand each other more fully. It is a mechanism for learning how to love each other better.” This is determined by how you handle conflict.

Dr. Gottman asks, Do you:

Turn toward? – Sit down and discuss it rationally?

Turn away? – Ignore it, bottle it up, or sweep it under the rug?

Turn against? – Explode and call out the fault displayed?

“Turn away” conflict can create a lopsided marriage. When one person commits an offense, the other smiles and takes it. They can internalize it and even feel guilty. When these individuals continue this cycle, they end up in a codependent marriage.

Within a codependent marriage, one partner has extreme emotional or physical needs, and the other partner is willing to do whatever it takes to meet those needs. The codependent is so in love, and they want that love reciprocated. Out of fear of rejection, they do what they feel is necessary to keep the love and attention of their partner. This can become disastrous when the other partner is involved in self-destructive behavior, including substance abuse.

How Does Codependency Affect a Marriage?

In many cases, codependency doesn’t suddenly begin with courtship or marriage. This trait is often learned through the growing up process. Since a child's adult behavior will be the byproduct of life experiences, he or she must grow up with positive influences. When a child is privy to relational negativity, they will continue these bad habits because they think it’s normal life. The same applies to codependency.

If a child sees one parent bowing to every need of the other, then that child will be more likely to view those behaviors as necessary to keep a romantic relationship alive. This pattern can be manifested in a few distinct ways: low self-esteem, the loss of boundaries between right and wrong, and an unhealthy obsession with the relationship.

Low Self-Esteem – When someone feels they are unworthy, any affection they receive is like water on dry soil; it immediately soaks in. Doing whatever they need to keep the water flowing, even if the process hurts.  Living off the other’s opinions, allowing them to define their self-worth. But soothing words only last so long. The soil will dry up, and negative feelings will resurface until the next affirmation comes along.

Loss of Boundaries – The desire to please others removes boundaries regarding what is acceptable behavior. The codependent often defends their partner’s behavior, allowing them to say and do things that not only harms themselves but harms the relationships around them. They avoid saying ‘no’ to their spouse at all cost, fearing it would make them unhappy.

Honesty is another factor that affects the codependent. When they are afraid of offending their partner, they tend to lie and deny that there is a problem, just to keep the peace.

Obsessiveness – The need to always keep their partner happy can become obsessive. In fact, they will get upset with anyone who throws that balance off. Their obsession is the other person. They want their acceptance, need their approval, and are terrified of losing it. So, they will often do what it takes to keep their spouse engaged in the relationship. Even if it means giving in to their destructive habits.

How Substance Abuse Affects the Behaviors of a Codependent Partner

When one partner has a substance abuse problem, this only increases the codependency. The codependent spouse can act out of fear, habit, or even worse, pity. They might want to help their spouse, but sometimes the thing they do is the very thing their spouse doesn’t need. Caretaking is enabling. Silence is acceptance. But to the codependent, the consequences of saying something is too much of a price to pay. So, they often continue permitting the habit, acting in ways that are centered around keeping the peace.

Codependent fear exists on different levels:

Fear of rejection by the partner.

Fear of failing the partner.

Fear of what could happen if you don’t live up to the expectations.

Through these fears, the codependent’s submission continues. They live in a constant state of negativity and amplified fear, as if they are walking on eggshells, always trying to help but never sure if it is what their spouse wants.

Dr. Gottman says of a negative outlook, “They can distort reality and even see positive things as potential put-downs.” He also says that with that negative perspective you will “fail to see 50 percent of the positive things the other partner is doing.” Even when a codependent spouse is trying to do good, their partner may not notice. Or worse, they may misinterpret it as something negative.

Finally, there is the fear of losing the relationship if the situation is resolved. The codependent might feel their spouse or partner will not need them anymore and leave.

Actions out of Habit – Just like driving on the right side of the road, we do things repeatedly because they have become habits. It would seem abnormal to do things any other way. This is also something that is learned young. If you have a habit of keeping your mouth shut at a parental scolding, you will most likely keep your mouth shut with the scolding from a spouse.

Additionally, just as we saw our parents argue, or how they made, up, we will behave the same way with our spouses. The cycle continues in what we think we should do, and without any correction from an outside source, we perpetuate the behaviors we have learned.

Clinician and couples therapy thought leader Dr. Stan Tatkin reminds us that, “We all come [to the relationship] with our fair share of unresolved painful experiences from relationships.” These issues become ingrained in who we are. And will determine how we react to conflict with our current partner. These habits can evolve into codependent habits.

Whether we know it or not, we tend to view the people we engage with through the lens of the past. Tatkin calls the areas of our brain that have assimilated such behavior “primitives.” They act out of habit, based on personal experiences. Codependency can very well reflect those primitives in action.

Actions out of Pity – The excuses the codependent uses to justify their partner’s actions can sound pretty defensive:

What can I do? They don’t know any better. Their dad drank or their mom was an addict. They need me to help them. If I’m not there, things would be worse. I am able to make excuses to their boss, their friends, their family for why they are acting that way. If I don’t, they would be jobless, friendless, and family would keep their distance.

But it is important to remember the chasm between pity and love. Love is about respect. You cannot respect someone you pity. Just a sorrowful ache that a codependent tries to make up for through attempts to hide their spouse’s shortcomings. Covering up becomes a habit, then helping becomes an addiction in itself. The codependent partner can become so dependent on their spouse that defending them has become their identity.

Ways to Deal with Substance Abuse in a Codependent Marriage

When a marriage falls into codependence, the codependent partner becomes an enabler to the abusive habits. While they may genuinely want to help, their codependence becomes an addiction of its own. This traps both in a cycle that can only be broken by getting help. Not just for the substance abuse, but for the codependency.

First, admit There is a Problem

To begin the road to recovery, you must admit there is a problem. Just as the partner with the substance abuse issue is reluctant to admit they have a problem; the Codependent partner shares the same reluctance to accept they have a problem. Unfortunately, the Codependent may be standing in the way of the abusing partner overcoming their issues. Their enabling habits never give the abusing partner the opportunity to get out of their destructive patterns.

Then, Stop Enabling

Once both spouses realize that they are in too deep and need help, they can begin the road to recovery. The next step is to stop the process from continuing. This is probably the toughest step. It begins with setting firm boundaries. The codependent needs to stop enabling their spouse. And on the opposite end, the spouse with the addiction needs to quit their abusive behavior that feeds the addiction of the enabler.

Next, Seek Professional Help

Seeking help is never easy. It means airing your laundry outside the confines of your home. Seeking substance abuse help is just the beginning. A codependent habit can be just as challenging to overcome. They should also undergo some form of treatment for their codependency.

Follow-up

You can admit there is a problem, set boundaries, and seek professional help, but you must always continue to move forward. It is never one and done. It is never a completed task. It is a minute-by-minute, day-by-day process.

Final Thoughts

Even when you gain a grasp of the situation, continue the new healthy habits you and your spouse have learned. Eventually, it becomes easier. It is a long process, but one worth fighting for. The ability to repair the broken relationship will strengthen your marriage. As Dr. Gottman says in his Making Relationships Work seminar, “Every relationship experiences conflict and periods of alienation. The difference between the Masters and the Disasters is they’re able to repair.”

While codependency gives the appearance of a happy marriage, it is based on pretenses. It is always a fragile relationship. Yes, there may be peace, but the tiniest spark can set the whole thing ablaze. All it takes is for someone to go too far, then happiness quickly dissolves, and animosity takes its place.

Admit there is a problem, get help, and keep at it. Don’t give up on your spouse.

Understand that there will be setbacks; substance abuse is not easy to overcome. Neither is a codependency issue. But together you can work on repairing your relationship and living the life that you envisioned from day one.

If you are having trouble coping with codependency or a host of other possible marriage challenges, reaching out to a licensed couples therapist might be the way to go.

From the Gottman Method to Emotionally Focused Therapy to the PACT model, we apply science-based methodologies to every couples retreat or couples therapy weekend we offer. We also offer weekly sessions for those who can't find time to break away during the week.

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