#since i would. love to not work with bigots all day.

[teecupangel]

Hii teecup!! Hope you're doing well!!

May I ask some a/b/o AltDes stuff please (alpha! Altaïr and Omega!Desmond) because there's not much of it out there :'D

Now I'm sure Altaïr would more open minded and much less of an asshole to omegas then most of the people back in his days..... HOWEVER, please hear me out, what if he wasn't

He could be low-key about it, unlike most alphas who are very vocal and open about their 'opinions' on Omegas and such. He's very aloof when it comes to omegas in general, not having strong feelings on anything (very Altaïr behaviour honestly). That is until he meets Desmond.

Now instead of time travel, this time Desmond was born in Altaïr's time. This means Desmond would be raised as a traditional and submissive omega, but he still fought back. He could be born in Alamut (because Eagle of Alamut XD) as the son of the mentor (who is not Diya al-Dīn because he would never) who trained and became an assassin... sort of because idiot bigots.

Desmond is the best assassin in his entire brotherhood, BUT he's not officially an assassin. His father/mentor isn't as strict like most and let him get away with his antics, usually.

That is until Desmond was 'of age' and that's when it starts getting bad for our boy. His dad became more controlling and won't let him sneak off to do missions or fight anymore. He was to be married to whoever the assassins could use as allies. Basically just a bargaining chip. Desmond would fight back harder then ever, even with one of the best assassins guarding him and monitoring his move all the time, he would still be able to sneak off to continue doing missions to make them see just how capable he was.

He could runaway, he probably should runaway, but deep down all he wanted was for his father to love him again. To look at him with pride and treat him like a son again. (Altaïr would use this fact as an advantage later on)

But then it all comes crashing down when he finally gets betrothed. (Idk who he should be betrothed to LMAO it could be whoever. Someone very powerful that the assassins could use)

And all was going to shit for Desmond but it all went to super shit when Altaïr showed up. Because oh boy, Altaïr was a Strom of his own.

Now I honestly don't know how he and Altaïr meets, but it definitely left an impression on Altaïr because he was smitten from the first time they made eye contact. Man was obsessed from here on out kajsksjssoakakak.

And uhh yeah that's all I've got, plot wise

Some notes.

- Desmond pulling all the alpha assholes like catnip.

- Altaïr, manipulating Desmond as a sign of affection

- Malik suffers because we love him <33

Honestly teecup, I just wanted a toxic a/b/o au but it grew plotty legs and ran out of my grasps, my apologies.

And that's all for now!

Sorry in advance if my English is very trying, I'm typing on my phone and it's not the best experience.

PS please make it as toxic and horny as Tumblr allows you to, and I would give you my kidneys.

PPS if you think you know who I am by how I write..... No you don't/lh

As horny and as toxic as Tumblr would allow it? I don’t even know the limit of Tumblr’s tolerance hahahaha

So for this one, if you want Desmond to be born in Alamut as a son of the mentor but not Diya al-Dīn, we can make him the son of an older brother of Diya al-Dīn instead. Born more as a way for the older brother, who was passed over because Diya al-Dīn was more worthy of the title, to try and get power with his son being the next in line for the imam since Diya al-Dīn was still childless at that point.

Diya al-Dīn would be the kind uncle who tried to do right by his nephew but can’t truly intervene because his brother was controlling and had a firm grasp on Desmond’s every day life. It was going well, all things considered.

Desmond wasn’t a genius nor was he inherently talented but he was a hard worker and he always went beyond what was required of him.

His father rewards his hard work by giving him a bit of leeway, all the while making him drink medicinal tea that was meant to change him into an alpha.

It didn’t do anything but hide his scent… which had been easy to do in the first place because those not yet of age only had a hint of scent to show their ‘status’.

Diya al-Dīn tried to be accepting of Desmond’s wish to be an Assassin even if omegas aren’t exactly… well… only omegas that could control their ‘base instinct’ could become Assassins which was hard for an omega without the help of some kind of medicine that would leave them in pain or groggy.

Desmond, unfortunately, is one of the omegas that cannot be medicated. Even if he drank more than he should, that only leaves him in unbearable pain.

That’s why his father pivoted from Desmond becoming the next imam to having some talks with certain powerful rulers. Finding Desmond an alpha that would take him as their official wife or one of his concubine.

His father was less picky of Desmond’s standing and more interested in creating a political bond with a powerful ally (whether he plans to use this to usurp Diya al-Dīn or he simply wants more power outside of the Brotherhood is up for grabs)

And he finally finds one but Desmond would enter into that household as a concubine. His marriage proposition wasn’t a good one all things considered, the alpha was a powerful one but it was well known that his official wife and the older concubines were dangerous. Newer concubines either die from poisoning or accidents or childbirth and, more often than not, their children would not survive more than five summers.

So Desmond escapes. Maybe, just maybe, Diya al-Dīn had a hand in the patrol routes that night and it left certain large windows of opportunity for Desmond to use.

Alamut, of course, will look for him. That’s why Desmond would try to hide from them.

That’s how he meets Altaïr.

He was desperate and his heat was upon him. Altaïr’s scent was overpowering and he could feel it within him that this was an alpha that would fight tooth and nail to keep his omega safe.

He wasn’t a romantic.

He had already accepted the very idea that his alpha would not love him.

He doesn’t need it.

Love did not bring his omega parent any happiness, no matter how overflowing their love for Desmond’s alpha father had been.

What he needed was an alpha who would take care of him and any child he would bear.

So he used his scent to weaken the alpha’s defenses.

It was Desmond who made it impossible for Altaïr to resist.

And so Altaïr claimed him.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond escaped a few weeks after Altaïr killed Rashid but before AC Bloodlines. (So late Sept, early Oct)

He was on his way to Alamut to talk to Diya al-Dīn about being the new mentor (he doesn’t want to be the next mentor) and they actually spent Desmond’s heat in a random abandoned home

Alamut Assassins found them afterwards and, by that point, Desmond was sooo thoroughly claimed that there was no way to say that Altaïr wasn’t his alpha.

This also changed Altaïr’s desire to not be the mentor because the easiest way to keep Desmond by his side is to be the mentor of Masyaf with his marriage to Desmond being a way to ‘mend’ the broken relationship between Alamut and Masyaf.

Desmond’s father was not pleased but fuck him, by law, Desmond was now the property of his mate and Altaïr has no qualms killing the asshole if he doesn’t stop yapping about how he raised Desmond and should have the final say on everything.

He returns to Masyaf and… sorta kicked all the Flowers of Paradise. To be more exact, they were transferred to another part of the fortress while the entirety of Paradise became Desmond’s new home. (Desmond and his most definitely growing child)

That is the second headache Malik got.

The first one was the fact that Altaïr returned with Alamut’s blessing as the mentor (which Altaïr had stressed he would never take) and an omega mate (which he had always said would never happen)

Desmond is free to go anywhere in Masyaf but he will always have guards on him because security reason.

Desmond believes Altaïr’s affection stemmed from the fact that he did more or less coerced Altaïr to biting him during the throes of heat-induced passion so he wants a child to further keep Altaïr ‘happy’ and satisfied (not knowing that the mentor title isn’t passed down from father to son in Masyaf, he honestly believe Altaïr is Rashid’s adopted son)

Altaïr was never fully enthralled during Desmond’s heat. He has been trained to have high tolerance as part of Rashid’s plan to make him the ultimate ‘attack dog’. He marked Desmond fully knowing Desmond was desperate and was trying to ‘seduce’ him.

Honestly, Altaïr just wanted Desmond because his scent had been the sweetest ambrosia he had ever smelled and he believed that meant they were meant to be.

And he will not let anyone get between them, no matter who they may be.

[astrxealis]

okay rambles but i started creatively writing in like ... 5th grade? and. oh god just a little encouragement to anyone looking to get into writing or insecure or whatnot, but HELLS, maybe it's to he expected with my (obviously) very young age and inexperience with writing then, but my writing was really. yeah. Yeah. but then i'm what... a lot older now, obviously, and my writing has gotten leagues better. i'm probably not a good example for this bcs childhood years development stuff are different etc etc BUT practicing writing more and whatnot really does go a long way :]

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[ronanceautistic]

in your opinion how would ronance get together

Honestly I haven't really thought about it much. I do enjoy the idea of the 'Robin fell first, Nancy fell harder' thing, where Robin has been developing a crush on Nancy since S4, but she believes it's wrong or stupid so she tries to forget about it. Meanwhile she discovers Vickie likes girls and she's like 'perfect! I like Vickie! Vickie likes me! This will work." And she's getting increasingly more frustrated at herself for not feeling the things she should be feeling because this is supposed to be a perfect match, right? And getting frustrated at herself for actually feeling them when she's hanging out with Nancy.

Meanwhile, Nancy is so deeply blissfully unaware of her growing crush on Robin because she's never had a female friend other than Barb (whom she was deeply in love with, too) so she's like yes! These feelings are so normal. And then maybe one day she goes to Family Video, and the counter is empty, but she can see Robin in the back through the crack in doorway and then she sees Robin kissing Vickie and when I say Nancy fell hard I mean she fell hard. Like this complete wave of jealousy overcomes her and at first she doesn't understand why but she feels so much deep rage that she just books it out of Family Video. And Robin catches a glimpse of her running away and is like shit I just outed myself to Nancy. And Nancy is at home pacing around her room realising the reason she feels so upset seeing Robin and Vickie kiss is because Robin should be kissing her! And Robin is pacing around her room thinking that her best friend is a total homophobe.

Anyways Nancy starts avoiding Robin like the plague because she does not want to be thinking about these feelings right now, that's a problem for later. But Robin thinks Nancy is avoiding her because Nancy hates her, and then final Robin confronts her and is like you know what? I don't care that you're a bigot, you can go fuck yourself. And Nancy is like ?!?!?! and then she's forced to be like no actually I'm not avoiding you because I hate that you're gay I'm avoiding you because I'm gay and deeply in love with you and I can't stand to watch you be all happy with Vickie. And Robin's like... oh, and the feelings for Nancy all come flooding back and then they kiss many times on the lips.

But no I haven't really thought about it that much.

[hauntedwitch04]

Lucifer I

Nyx Acheron x reader

Words: about 5.0k words

Warnings: blood, death, murder, sad things in general, shitty biological family

Author's note: This is a request by a follower on Wattpad, that I personally loved and I wrote this during the night. It's not complited, the second part will be out soon, but it was getting to long. Hope you like it loves, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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"Say one more word and I swear I'll cut out your tongue." You say looking at the young prince of the night, who reciprocates by looking at you amused.

"Uncle Az, tell your hound dog to stay put." Nyx replies, as he rises from the chair in the meeting room we are in. For a moment you forget about him and end up looking around, and you wonder if little te knew this would happen to her in the future, if she would believe it. When Azriel found you, hiding in a cave not far from the Illyrian camp from which you had escaped, he was shocked at how long you had lasted alone in the woods. It had been weeks now since you had managed to escape what was left of my family, yet you still had not managed to wash away completely the blood of your sisters that had remained under your nails.

After your parents had died, my father in battle and my mother in childbirth, the chief of our tribe had decided to assign you to the only relatives left for you and your sisters namely your uncles, evil and mean people who had only money in mind and how to accumulate more and more of it, and because of this however small you were, you had to start working right away. Also living with you was our mother's mother, a bigoted and unintelligent woman bound by the stupid traditions of the barbaric people of which I am a part, who from early on you knew would present a threat to your wings. Not a day went by when she did not complain that you had not yet bled or find ways to make it happen, but you in response had studied every book and document you could about it and made sure to find every remedy you could to delay the arrival of what would spell the end of your last freedom. And the same you did with your sisters when they began to grow up, honoring the memory of your parents by asking them for help every night.

After spending years and years being a slave, on your twentieth birthday you woke up with red-stained blankets and immediately a new fear took its place in your body. You could already hear voices coming toward the room you shared with your sisters, and without a second thought you had jumped up waking the other two girls and telling them to take what you had prepared to run away. Within minutes you were already running through the woods, looking for a safe place to live for a while until you figured out how to do it. Over time you had also learned to hunt, and so you were not afraid to live in the woods; what you were afraid of was your family.

A little over an hour had passed when you heard voices coming from behind.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you. You know we have to, it's time for you to become a real woman." Yelled your uncle in an obnoxious, sarcastic voice, and you only increased your pace, which soon turned again into a hopeless race dragging your sisters toward what you hoped would be salvation.

"Do you really think those wings make you somebody! You are nothing if a little slut trying to escape from a future that is already written! Hurry up and I promise I won't rip your wings off, just keep playing hide-and-seek and I'll take all the time I can to do what I want with you!" Yells your uncle again, before laughing out loud. "Do you think we haven't found your stupid plant books, to delay your bleeding, do you think we're that stupid? That alone could be enough of a death sentence for you, do you really want to make your situation worse!?" He continued, and you felt a cold chill run down your spine. For a moment you thought about turning yourself in, then the image of all those girls you had seen suffer or even die for what they had done to their wings came into your mind, and so you began to run even harder, until you found yourself in front of a cave. You had found it a while ago, trying to catch something in the woods, and it had seemed like a good hiding place. You told your sisters to go inside, while you went for a second to retrieve some weapons you had hidden in a hollow log two minutes away from there, intimating to them to keep quiet if they did not want to be discovered. Yet all was in vain.

One minute. Sixty seconds. Twenty blinks. One moment.

It only took a moment to kill your sisters. Your uncle found them, and because they tried to escape he killed them on the spot, stabbing them in the stomach.

You arrived at the moment when you saw the youngest among the three of you fall, the one who being the eldest daughter you had the pleasure of holding first, while the middle one was already on the ground lifeless. You saw in her eyes the life slip away, like sand running through your fingers.

"So you won't run away like your useless sister." Said your uncle, looking at her handiwork before turning away. "Where is he right now, anyway? He abandoned you, he doesn't even have the courage to face me, yet he has the courage to leave you here to die." He continued.

"Turn around asshole, and face your fate." Whispers your sister, dying, amid blood spit on the ground and moans of pain. "I hope his blade is as sharp as your tongue." She continues, before telling you with her lips that she loved you, and then letting the life that animated her flow out of her.

Your uncle turned and for a moment his face was crossed with pure and simple fear, coming the anger that animated your face. A few simple sword movements, and in a few seconds he was in front of you on his knees, praying to your goodness, which in his regard had left you years ago. Blood gushed from his lips like lava from a volcano as you watched life fade away behind his tar-black pupils.

"I hope you will suffer as much as you made us suffer, and that Mother will have a special punishment for you. You killed the only family I had left, and for that I will take from you what you took from me: life." You said, looking down into his eyes. He spat in your face in response.

"Do you think you are so much better than me? You too will take the life of another human being, even your hands will be stained with blood, you and I are not much different." He said, before spitting more blood at my feet. "Besides, do you really think they will not notice that I am not going back to the village? Do you really think they won't come looking for me and find you here with all these dead people? Do you think you'll get away with it? O deluded little bitch, they will kill you, and then there we will be in the same cage before Lucifer."

"See you in hell then." You whispered before finally cutting his neck and letting his blood create a pool at your feet.

For hours you felt like an automaton as you carried your uncle's body out of the cave and buried it not far from there. Once you had stowed away all the earth, you turned to where your sisters still lay and for the first time truly felt their death strike you with an axe blow to the chest, whereas before you were too busy still brooding over anger and revenge. In a few steps you found yourself on the ground, your hands grasping their bloody clothes as you clutched them to your chest, crying hot and bitter tears. You screamed in every language you knew against every deity you remembered, as you begged anyone to take you in their place and let them live their lives. You spent the whole night crying and screaming, so much so that by morning you had no voice left. Once the sun came up you realized what you looked like. Your arms were completely bloody, especially your hands, where blood had even gone under your fingernails. Long minutes passed before you conceived the fact that you had to bury your sisters as well. This time, however, was different. You found a beautiful clearing full of lavender flowers and laughed at the irony. You had always loved lavender very much, and your sisters always teased you about it, and now the place where they would find peace would be just that. You slowly dug two pits next to each other in the shade of a willow tree, and gently placed their bodies, wrapped in blankets, as tears continued to stream down your face. You looked one last time at their bodies, so small and helpless at that moment, before covering them with the earth. Once finished you lay there on top of them, waiting for the dead to come for you too, feeling guilty for their death and for killing a man, seeing the blood still staining your hands. You screamed, cried again as you had done the night before, then you heard a rustling in the plants, and like a vision your sisters appeared to you holding hands with your mother, surrounded by shadows. By now it had become night, but you did not even realize it too engrossed in crying.

Immediately you were frightened by the scene and jumped to your feet, then you calmed down and realized that you had not gone crazy, but there were really them in front of you. You ran toward them, and tried to hug each of them three times, failing, and falling all three times into the void. Immediately the tears came back to you.

"I thought I was dead. I thought I had atoned for my sins, and instead I'm still here. I don't deserve to live, please do something help me." You asked, kneeling in front of them, looking down, and at that moment you felt like a gust of wind settling on your shoulder, so you looked up and saw that your mother had placed her hand on his shoulder and was looking at you fondly.

"My child, do not think that our death is your fault. You, on the contrary, did everything you could do. You must keep fighting, you cannot let yourself go like this. You must live for us, too." She said, but you shook your head, not believing you could.

"I am not so strong mom, I allowed them to hurt them. I-I don't think I can go on alone anymore. I am not strong enough." You whisper, as you go back to slump on the ground.

"Don't even think that. You have come this far, you must live for us too. We will never abandon you, we will become your janitors." She said making a gesture to indicate the shadows that surrounded her and your sisters. As if they understood the topic of conversation they moved toward you, twisting like a snake along your arms, until they reached your ear and whispered something to you. You were not even surprised to understand them, no matter how surreal this situation was. You watched intently as those night-colored pythons came to life around you, until you looked up again and saw that your mother was now retreating with your sisters, back to where they had come from.

"Where are you going!? Don't leave me!" You screamed, getting up and running toward them, but the shadows held you, like worried hands holding someone dear.

"You can't follow us where we go love, now we have to go back where we came from, we have already been away too much according to the rules. Take care dear and remember we love you. Enjoy every second of your life, don't remember the past, create a new future." Those were your mother's last words to you as your sisters waved goodbye, also with tears in their eyes.

At that moment I became a shadowsinger.

And so you returned to being alone, in the middle of the night, surrounded by shreds of darkness that moved with a life of their own.

"My lady must go and wash the blood off her clothes, and she will attract wild animals." The shadows say in your ear, as they urge you to get up. You resist a little at first, to be guided by them, who like an invisible wet nurse took care of you, for the first few days where you still had to get used to the situation. A week later you were fully back to yourself, and nothing could stop you. You kept moving from one place to another so they would not find you until one morning you heard a rustling among the plants, but your shadows that time told you something different that struck you.

"Honey, this time the one chasing us is someone like you." They said, as you were setting a new trap to catch some small game.

"Like us, you mean another shadowsinger?" You asked confused, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to know.

"That's right honey." They replied, before going forward.

A few minutes passed before a man, an Illyrian, emerged from behind the plants, but you soon realized that you did not know him.

"Hello." He said first, smiling slightly as he put his hands forward to show you that he had no hidden weapons to hurt you. "I would just like to talk to you."

You looked at him wary, then you saw a shadow emerge from his back, exactly like those adorning your shoulders, and immediately you felt understood. You saw his shadows go to his ears, as if to report something to him, and immediately his eyes widened as his face changed, looking at you with sorry eyes and a sorrowful smile on his lips.

"You are also like me. "You affirmed as you approached, he without warning embraced you, holding your slender, exhausted body in his mighty arms.

"I'm sorry." He said in a choked voice as he gently stroked your back. "Who has passed away?" He asked, trying to understand how you had managed to get what for him was a curse.

"My mother and sisters. They failed to protect them. My mother I failed to save all those years ago, while the others I left alone, and my uncle killed them." You whispered, as you let go in his arms in a desperate cry.

"Then you really are the girl from the village they are looking for." He said as he looked into your eyes, and you saw tears forming in his, as if he also remembered at this moment a past and distant pain, still alive in him though. "They sent me to find you, saying that a crazy dangerous murderer, but I think they actually are." He continues laughing, before asking another question. "Where is your uncle?"

"I killed him." You said in a hard, impassive voice and then looked at him coldly, or at least tried to, but the fear you were feeling clearly shone through your eyes. "I will accept whatever punishment you want to give me, but please don't take me back there. I ran away because they wanted to clip my wings, and now I'm afraid of what they would have in store for me, and I suspect it's worse than death." You asked, as more tears ran down your face.

He shook his head, before taking off his jacket and laying it on your shoulders.

"My dear, you will come with me, I will never take you back to that shitty place." He said softly as he stroked your face, and for the first time you felt the scars adorning his palms, and you were shocked by the contrast between his soft voice and his rough skin.

"I am Azriel, the High Lord's chief spy, and you will come with me to Velaris, where I will teach you everything I know about the shadows we share. After all, I've always wanted a little sister, and I'm sure Cassian will be impressed with your skills as well." He said, as he pointed you to a place in the forest devoid of trees. "I have to warn you though, we're a little crazy as a family." He continued, but you froze.

"Wait, I have to do something first." You said before running one last time to that lavender field, to which you had gone every day to see your sisters.

"It's not goodbye, it's goodbye. I will be back soon, as soon as I can. I love you all. I will live for you." You confessed at their graves, amid sobs before returning to Azriel.

He looked at you with compassion and together you took off into the air, and only when you arrived in Velaris did you realize that your life had really changed, and that a new adventure was beginning.

"Hey baby all right?" You eventually hear Azriel's voice, concerned, as he leans over the table to take your hands. You are the only one with whom he shows physical affection, trusting only you, and of course Gwyn, whom you regard as a mother.

Over time your relationship has proven to be more like that between a father and a daughter than between a brother and a sister. He has from the very beginning taken care of you, and you of him at times when he needed it, you have always supported each other, and a bond flows between you that is stronger than just a blood bond. You look into his eyes and see his doubt gripping him, but it still does not invade your mind, leaving you space. Nyx also seems to have quieted down. You and he have never gotten along too well, ever since you first met. You have been part of the Inner circle for ten years now, but the two of you only met five years ago, since he was studying on the mainland before that.

He, from the beginning saw you as a rival, and even being a couple of years younger, felt that his place as a protected and beloved prince of the court was being undermined by you.

He never understood the real reason why his uncle took you with them, and that was also because you had never shared your story with anyone outside of Az and his mate, not wanting others to see you as weak.

"Yeah all right, I was thinking about how not to kill that asshole during the mission." You say, trying to sound convincing, and apparently succeeding because everyone is giggling, outside of Az and Nyx who don't look very convinced.

"Oh come on Lucifer, we both know that the better of the two is me." He tries to comment, but you can still read the uncertainty in his eyes not believing your words.

"In your dreams Acheron." You answer, trying to let the nickname pass.

The next day, at dawn you find yourself on a mission in the woods near where you had grown up. A feeling of fear covers your heart and mind ever since you set foot here. Like a flooding river, memories of your childhood wash over you. Rhysand didn't know this place was steeped in trauma for you, or he wouldn't have assigned it to you, but if you had told him, you would have proven yourself unequal to your role as his court's deputy spy chief, unable to separate work and private life.

"We need to go to an Illyrian camp nearby, apparently there has been some insubordination." Nyx tells you, not remembering that you were also at the meeting her father had to describe the mission. "Hey, you look pale, are you okay?" He asks worriedly, turning to look at you.

"Since when do you worry about me Acheron? Aren't you getting soft?" You say, stepping past him as with confident steps of someone who has been down that road a billion times before, you move like a snake, with elegance and fluidity, through the trees of the forest. Out of the corner of your eye you see the boy step into a trap, which has been there since you were a child, which an old hunter always puts in that hole.

"Be careful putting your foot there, there is a trap." You say atonically as you continue walking. He stops and looks carefully at where he was about to walk to see that indeed you were right.

"Well I'd say you're mellowing, too, honey. Is the cold-hearted witch thawing out?" He asks with amusement as you without stopping or turning around give him the middle finger.

"I love you too baby." He continues, in response to your gesture, and you shake your head in response as you can't suppress a silly little smile appearing on your face.

"How did you know there was a trap anyway, it was really very well hidden." Comments the prince of the night, as he takes great strides to catch up with you.

You pause for a second, thinking whether to tell him the truth or tell him to go to hell again. You don't know what is getting into you but this place makes your head spin, and you feel like a poor, lonely, helpless girl again. The shadows surround you like a shield since you arrived, as if they, too, sense the familiarity of that place. You look into his violet eyes, which in the little sunshine coming in through the tree foliage, take on a lavender-like hue, and again it feels as if a prick comes sharply into your stomach and knocks you to the ground.

You see in his expression concern and sincerity, and this sends your system into a tailspin, which, as if it were nothing, opens up a deep, private part of you to him.

"I grew up here, I know these woods well." You say not looking into his eyes, too caught up in your emotions that are running through you right now. The shadows close even tighter between you, almost creating a cocoon.

"I didn't know that." He replies.

"Nobody knows, nobody but Az and Gwyn." You counter.

"He found you here then." The boy affirms, while in the shadows he tries to look around.

"Yes, not far from here." And you almost can't hold between your lips <<and near here I buried my sisters, a little farther away instead is the cave where they died at the hands of my uncle, whom I killed and buried near there>>, but fortunately you manage to hold back.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you really knows what to say, until you decide to confess other things.

"Nyx, the village we are going to is the one I ran away from when I was 20 years old with my sisters. Everyone there hates me, but I don't even think they would recognize me, however, I wanted to tell you before you see doing something stupid and reckless for no reason. At least you know some context, it seemed right to tell you." You say as you resume walking, but he grabs one of your two wrists with his hand and stops you.

"How come you ran away?" He asks with a seriousness you think you've never seen in him before.

"They wanted to take away the only thing that made me free: my wings." You answer with equal seriousness as I see his jaw twitch in anger.

"Who wanted to do this to you? Your parents?" He asks as disgust is evident from his tone.

"No, it's a long story." You try to answer without giving too much information, but immediately you feel something, guilt, making its way inside you. "Maybe someday I will tell you, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so." You continue, before starting to move along the forest. Nyx does not counter and follows your steps silently, always, however, staying close to you and in silence, as if she has that at this moment, the slightest thing could destabilize you and that you need someone right now, who without your asking, should help you survive from drowning in your memories.

You arrive at the village shortly after, and for a moment you feel like you have traveled through time. Nothing has changed since you left, and that gives you the chills. Immediately people begin to look at you askance, and within seconds you find the village chief standing in front of you. He is still the same as when you were there, an elderly gentleman with poor eyesight and a big heart. He was the only one who supported your choice to keep your wings, but the council had overtaken him and there was nothing he could do about it, he had confessed to you once while your family was still waiting for you to bleed, but he was already deciding your future. He looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to focus on your figure.

"Hello, we are here about the small riot that happened here a few days ago. The High Lord sent us." Says Nyx casually, with a smile on his face. You had decided before you left not to say your identities right away, so as not to arouse hatred as soon as you arrived, but you obviously hadn't told Nyx about why, though now he knows.

"Oh certainly, this way guys." Says the elderly gentleman, smiling at us. "But you didn't have to go to all that trouble, it was just a bunch of stupid kids who decided to make some trouble. There was no need for the High Lord to send any of his people, but we really appreciate you coming." He continues, as we cross the main street of the village.

"High Lord Rhysand is keen to let it be known that he is always available to his subjects when needed." Nyx replies very diplomatically, as he has been taught. You stop and stare at him, as you walk along, and think that deep down all those girls falling at his feet are not wrong. He is one of the most handsome boys you have ever seen, if not the most handsome of them all, with those violet eyes and perpetually disheveled night-colored hair. He is smart, but at the same time reckless, funny and kind, in short the perfect boy everyone dreams of. Immediately you freeze, and blush when you realize what you're thinking. You hear the shadows laughing in your ear, hearing your thoughts, and you under your breath curse them. You look around and realize you've stopped in front of what used to be your little piece of heaven: the bookstore. It was a tiny, musty place, and full of dusty old shelves, and run by a sweet and loving little lady, whom you treated like children.

When you were little, you spent hours in there, so much so that eventually the lady hired you as an assistant, making sure that your aunt and uncle didn't force you to stop going to that place to go to work.

It was never very busy, but it had a small circle of trusted customers.

Now, however, it is a ruined place. The window glass is broken, and the now-worn sign has fallen down. The shelves have all fallen, one on top of the other like bodies of soldiers wounded in battle, piled on top of each other. A dusty mist fills the store, while on the ground one can still see marks left by flames, while nothing but ashes remain of the books.

Nyx seeing that you stopped, stops in turn, apologizing to the village chief, and coming to see if you were okay.

"Hey, are you okay Lucifer? If you want, you can wait in one spot, and I'd be back to you in five minutes, I swear I'd be quick and then we'd run right out of here and not look back. You don't have to do all this if you can't." The boy says sympathetically as he takes your hand in his. That gesture makes you turn toward him, and then look at the older gentleman who has also turned back, and he looks at you smiling.

"I felt like I knew that smile." He says, looking at you as he strokes your face with one hand. "It seems like a lifetime since you and your sisters left. I see that life has treated you well." He continues happily, and you feel a pang in your heart.

"Life apparently has only treated me well." You say while remaining vague, and immediately he seems to understand, and with a sweet gesture, typical of a grandfather toward his granddaughter, he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"I'm sorry little witch." He whispers, and you smile at the nickname, which he had given you when you were still playing at making potions out of mud in the camp.

Nyx meanwhile was looking at you more and more confused, but he does not ask you anything, realizing that this is not the time for his questions. The shadows move agitated, too caught up in all those emotions.

"What happened to the bookstore?" You ask worriedly. "Is the lady okay?"

"She passed away shortly after you left. Her family did not take care of the store and let vandals destroy it." Confessed the elderly gentleman, sorry.

You are about to respond, angry at the people who allowed part of your childhood to be set on fire, when you hear a voice from down the street that chills the blood in your veins, that of your aunt.

...to be continued...

TAGLIST

@winchestergirl222

• @nothingimportentreally

• @duda

• @itsmeseph

• @lys-neyr8

• @nyotamalfoy

• @anonimusy

• @marigold-morelli

• @luna-1-3-5

• @esposadomd

• @thotd-f1

• @humanpersonlasttimeichecked

@backups-backups

@daeneeryss

@hjgdhghoe

@theviewfromtheotherside

@e_dollly

[butchsophiewalten]

03/03/2024 Twitter Space Recap (1/2)

Martin & Kyle did a twitter space (with a late appearance of Eva) in the earliest hours of the day on the 3rd, here's a recap of what they talked about then:

-Kyle brings up that he wants to do a charity stream for the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund! He says Him, Martin, Coral, and Eva would be there playing Lethal Company. He says he plans to do this "sometime this month".

-Martin describes the 'Walten Dog Saga', saying that first the family got Carlitos, who was Sophie's dog, and everybody loved him, but then one day in 1968, they're playing and then Carlitos gets run over. And it's so tragic that they're like, 'no more dogs!', until one day in 1973 Jack runs into this homeless street dog and brings him home, and names him Jaimito, and they have him for a few months before he bites Edd's arm and "almost gives him rabies", so Jack just gives the dog to Susan, and the one week that she has this dog is like the worst week of her life. He pees everywhere, he tears up her furniture, and after a week of that he just peacefully dies while Susan is out of the house.

-Martin says that aspects of episode 5 are inspired by some of the leaked stuff he's seen from Joker 2. "It's a very fairy-tale, unreliable narrator kind of episode."

-Martin spitballs his "perfect idea for a Walten Files game", a PS1-style game where you work as a Bon's Burger's employee, "in the kitchen at 3am making burgers", fixing up orders to be delivered (by another employee, I'm assuming? He mentions 'a guy with a motorcycle', so I think this is what he means. Like pizza delivery.) He talks about how the supply closet would be on the other side of the restaurant, so whenever you run out of ingredients you'd have to walk all the way over there and back in the dark. He says it'd be really funny if there wasn't even anything supernatural in it.

-Martin talks about how it really bothers him when people say or imply that, because The Walten Files takes place in the time period it does, it would be more accurate or make more sense for his characters to be bigoted. He brings up a specific instance where someone asked him how the other BSI employees would treat Chris. "The point that this person was making is that it would make sense for the team to be racist, and I was like 'No, it doesn't make sense! That shouldn't happen, it shouldn't be a thing!'" He goes on to say... "And then it was shit like, [mockingly] 'Why are Sophie and Jenny a couple if it was the 1980s?' and it's like, gay people existed in the 1980s!"

"It's just like, just because something was the thing back then, doesn't mean the characters should do a very bad and harmful thing, y'know? It's a really stupid mindset, in my opinion."

-Kyle talks about this genuinely really funny Showstoppers Halloween special idea he had a long time ago, where the Showstoppers are really excited for the holiday, but for some reason Bon has never heard of Halloween before, and the other Showstoppers have to explain it to him, telling him about costumes and trick-or-treating and everything. And it culminates with them going up to somebody's doorstep to trick-or-treat, and all the Showstoppers are telling Bon that he should go first since he's the newbie, and when he knocks on the door some lady answers, going "Hello! How are-" and then she looks up in horror. And the shot reverses to show like a full, "hyper-realistic" Scary Animatronic Bon looming over to her, with a Text-To-Speech voice going "Trick.... Or.... Treat."

-Martin talks about his own funny showstoppers idea, where Bon, for some inexplicable reason, has the feeling that he is dying. and he spends the whole episode trying to make amends with people and be nice to his friends, like 'I don't hate you, Banny, I really care about you,' 'Boozoo, you can have Bon's Burgers when I'm gone, because you're my friend and I trust you,' etc. And at the end of the episode you find out he just had a tummy ache, and he was being really dramatic about it.

-After some related banter, Martin jokes that it'd be funny if Jack was at a table eating with the rest of the 'Bunny Smiles family', and out of the blue he goes, like, 'I've got a tummy ache! :(' in a really high-pitched voice. Eva, who had joined the space a while earlier, jokes that his normal voice is just him faking it, and the high-pitched voice is what he actually sounds like.

-They talk about various Godzilla movies for a while, and Martin brings up how he really enjoyed the way Minus One managed to connect the narrative between its human and its monster characters, and how that's something he thinks a lot of other monster movies and horror films fail to do.

"Y'know, it's funny, because when I wrote The Walten Files, I always had the idea that like, there are two parts of the story? Part one, which is like, the human drama, and Edd and Molly, and the crash. And then part two, which has more to do with the animatronics and the place itself. And you have this feeling where there's going to be a moment where those two parts connect and link to each other, and I think that's something you gotta have in, like, horror movies, where- it- you can't just like, make up characters, and just put them in the existing world and have them exist, and then just sit around waiting for the killer to appear, y'know?"

-Eva brings up an incident that's been happening in the Walten Files community on Twitter, where some people have been getting some flack over headcanoning members of The Showstoppers as Black. Martin gets really incensed talked about how much this bothers him, saying "I saw that, it's so fucking stupid. If you- It's just common sense! If you look at someone going 'Hey, I think this character would be Black, I headcanon this character as black,' and you go, like 'I'm not comfortable with that,' what the fuck do you mean? How? That's so weird! And that's what I'm saying, it's like, how does it effect the story in any way that would be negative to you? Like, the only way you would be against that, is if you were like, racist. And it's like, huh? And I think, a lot of people bring up the argument that, 'Ah, but this character is clearly intended to be White,' and it's like, who cares! Who gives a shit? Like, that's not, like a valid argument to go against someone for doing something like that. It would be very different if, for example, someone looked at Chris and went, like, 'What if he was White?', it's very different. The context of that is very different, than just headcanoning a character as Black, y'know? That's completely fine and normal. Why would you be against that, that's so weird."

"I find it even funnier, because, from what it looked like, it was because someone said they headcanon Sha as Black, and it's like, that makes so much sense! I mean, like, I think that if Sha had a human design, she'd definitely not- she wouldn't be white... again, if you're against headcanons like that, you- you're not welcome here."

-"We end this stream saying these few words: Headcanoning characters as people of color is great, supporting Palestine is great, uh, being a Zionist is Bad! Being a racist is bad! And if you like Godzilla: I will give you a kiss on the head. Muah!"

___ They ended up holding another Space much later the same day, which I've decided to cover in a separate post, because it's twice as long as this one, and a lot more of the conversation in it was Walten Files-Centric, so the recap will take way longer to write.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Prey | Chapter Two

Alastor x Fem!Reader

It was another busy day, rushing and trying not to trip as you brought food and drinks to awaiting costumers, and cleaning up the tables when they left. Thankfully, near the end of the day was somewhat easier. Most people would not be attending the diner that late in the evening, but you still had a few that would come in. Maybe five at the very most, if you were lucky.

As you were cleaning up a table, you hummed a tune. It was a song Alastor had played on his radio show earlier that day, and it had gotten stuck in your head. You sang a few words before going back to just humming them.

You always loved music, ever since you were a child, you would use any free time you had to settle by the radio and listen in. Your parents were just as passionate about music as you were, in fact, encouraging you to sing. When you were a kid, you loved to sing, especially if your parents joined in.

It was a fun thing to do as a family. You'd even put on "performances" for them sometimes. You'd stand up on a chair, and sing your little heart out for them. And they loved it, ate it up practically.

However, when your parents died a few years ago, you didn't feel that same passion for singing like you use to.

But every now and then, you'd find yourself singing. Whether it be looking back on memories of your parents, or just out of boredom.

While occupied by cleaning, you hadn't notice the person walking up behind you.

As you turn, you let out a quick gasp. "Oh!" Then you calmed as you noticed who it was. "Al, my goodness, don't do that." You sigh. How was he so quiet?

Alastor chuckled. "My apologize. I wanted to surprise you." You roll your eyes and cracked a small smile. "Well, you were successful. What are you doing here?" You ask. "Your shift is about to end, right? How about after you finish up here, I take you back home with me to celebrate?" He suggests. I give him a confused look.

"Celebrate my shift ending?" I raise an eyebrow. Alastor returned the same confused glance. "Y/n, dear, did you forget? It's your birthday."

Oh, that's right! Today is my birthday. "Gosh, how could I forget that?" I sigh, putting a hand to my head. "Perhaps, because you are overworked." Alastor smirks. "Better watch what you say Al." I say quietly. "My boss might hear."

My boss didn't care for Alastor, or people who looked like Alastor. It's a shame you have to work for such a man. If you had any choice, you'd give him a piece of your mind and storm out. Alastor's offer became more tempting every day, when it comes that old bigot...

"Let him." Alastor says bluntly. "I'm not afraid of lowly men like himself."

"Alastor. Please." I say firmly. Alastor backs off, for now. "Alright, alright. Anyhow, what do you say? I'd like to treat you to a nice dinner, maybe have a drink or two. You deserve it, you work so hard after all."

My smile returns to my face. He really was too sweet. "Ok. Just let me finish up here and I'll be right out."

The walk to Alastor's home would have been too long, so he drove the two of you there. With the money he had, he could have the best looking car out there. But he had one just like any other person did. As long as it drove, it was fine. That's what he would always thought.

His home on the other hand, was a different story.

It wasn't a mansion, but it was one of the more decent looking homes in town. Bigger than his old childhood home. Anyone could take one look at that house and think, "yeah, he's got money".

Alastor pulled up to the house, got out of the car and walked to the passenger side to let me out, like the gentlemen he is. I thank him and step out.

He leads you up to the house and let's you inside. The inside was just as, if not more, beautiful than the outside. Spacious and well kept, wonderfully decorated. Alastor liked hunting, deer specifically. So of course, he'd have a few antlers hung on his walls here and there. But of course it wasn't all antlers, he had framed pictures like any normal household.

Mostly of his mother.

Alastor lost his mother some time back. He was only seventeen when she died. It was one of the darkest times in his life. The worst you've ever seen him, depressed and unkept. He barely ate, he didn't even want to stay in that house. It hurt him too much, to be in the very place she died. It was haunting.

There so many memories made in that house. And after she died, he couldn't even bare to look at it.

But eventually, he accepted things, and went back. That's were he would stay as he would start his radio show career.

As you walked further into the house, a delicious aroma filled your nose. "You cooking something?" You asked. "It's my mother's old jambalaya recipe. I finished it a while ago, but I made sure to keep it warm for you."

"Ooh, I already know it's gonna to be good." Your stomach growled just thinking about it. "Your mother was always a great cook."

"She was." Alastor smiles fondly. "Come on." He leads you to the dining room.

Dinner was amazing, Alastor inherited many great qualities from his mother, and cooking was most certainly one of them. Throughout the meal, you and him talked about lots of things, but decided to keep work out of the discussion. Even Alastor had enough of his job at certain times, especially when inspiration failed to find him.

"Oh, I really shouldn't have anymore Al. I have work in the morning. I can't work with a nasty hangover, now can I?" You laugh lightly, as Alastor pours you another glass. "I think you can handle one more. You did when you went dancing with me some time back." Alastor says with a smirk. "Why don't we ever do that anymore, Y/n?" 

"Well, we did all that when we weren't fully committed to work. You, with your radio show. Me, with the diner." You sigh. "But those we're good times, huh? Oh...to be young again." 

"Y/n, you're twenty five as of today." Alastor chuckles. You laugh and take another sip. "See what this does to me." You say, holding up your glass. "I do wish things could be easy as they were back then though. We were new adults, just trying to have some fun before life finally settled in." 

Alastor hums. "I don't life is suppose to be easy." He starts. "But I do understand what you mean. Responsibility comes for us all, in the end. Otherwise, we can't really call ourselves adults, now can we?" 

"Mhm." You nod. "Al?" 

"Yes?"

"What would you be doing, if you didn't start your radio show?" You ask. Alastor took a second to think before answering. "I don't know really. It's always been a passion of mine, the radio. I can't imagine a life without doing it. What about you?" He asks. "If you weren't working in that diner."

"I'd want to sing." Maybe it was the alcohol that made you truthfully answer, because normally you would have kept such a dream to yourself. You set your glass down, not really looking at Alastor as you spoke. "But, I'm afraid I missed the chance to chase after that dream. Like you said, we all got responsibilities. I can't waste my life trying for something, I know I won't be able to achieve." 

"What makes you think that?" Alastor asks. You look at him, and smile weakly. "Look at me. Do I look like the type of person that screams, potential?" 

Money was always the bane of your existence. You could never afford to make yourself look "proper", it was usually hand-me-downs or dirt cheap dresses you had to mend yourself to fit right. People would take one look at you, and know just what your financial status was. 

"I'd be turned down right away." You tell him. "Y/n. I've heard you sing." Said Alastor. "If they heard you, they would have no choice but to accept you...I tell you what." He begins. "How about I talk with Mimzy and-"

"Alastor, you don't have to do that." You cut interrupt him gently. "I don't even know Mimzy that well." 

"Oh, but I do." Alastor smirks. "Me and her go way back, she'll listen to me." He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. He takes your hand and you stand as well. "Y/n, you wouldn't let me help you before. And I think it's because you think you can handle yourself and earn whatever money you get. That's fine." He continues. "But, if you are really wanting this, then let me help you take the first step. I want you to be happy Y/n, and I know you're not happy at that diner. Not really. So please..." His hold on your hands tightened slightly.

"Let me do this for you." 

You sigh softly. "I get the feeling you wont stop pestering me if I say no." Alastor shrugs, you smile. "Alright. But if she says no, I don't want you bothering her with it any further." 

"Wonderful! I'll stop by her lounge, first thing int he morning! You won't regret this, Y/n. I swear it." 

You hope you wouldn't. But, you trusted Alastor. If there was anyone who could convince someone to do a favor, it was Alastor. He was just gifted with that charm of his. And the smile didn't hurt either, in fact, it's what landed him in a lot of good situations. 

Maybe you had a chance after all...

[allyricas]

Moving On pt. 1

a follow up to Steve's Mixtape Part 2

includes: pining, gay steve harrington, stobin supremacy and oblivious eddie munson word count: 2,995 (whoops)

It's been two weeks since Steve made a complete and total fool of himself in front of his friend Eddie Munson. His apparently straight friend. The straight friend that Steve confessed his big, gay love for only to be rejected. The look on Eddie's face had been haunting Steve's every waking moment. Disgust. Horror.  

"Man, I'm not... I'm not gay. I don't like you that way." 

His mixtape was currently playing loud enough to drown out any thoughts. Steve's head dangled off the edge of his bed. He figured maybe he'd eventually pass out from the lack of oxygen and forget all about this whole ordeal. Well except for the being gay part because Steve is gay. One hundred percent homosexual.

He realizes how that must look from the outside. How could Steve 'the hair' Harrington possibly be gay? He was a bonafide ladies' man. He'd slept with plenty of girls. Hell, hadn't he been in love with Nancy Wheeler. And that's the thing, he did sleep with plenty of girls and he absolutely loved Nancy. Always would.  

Note the lack of 'in love with' in that sentence because he'd realized his feelings for Nancy were all tangled up in confusion. He knew he was supposed to find a pretty girl and eventually get married. Be miserable like his parents. He truly did care for Nance. She was beautiful and smart, but she never gave him butterflies. Never made him feel like he'd die if he couldn't kiss her or touch her. He'd been performing. Funny enough, Nancy had seen through him and they broke up over spilled drinks and cruel words. Bullshit.  

Hey, she was right though. It was bullshit because it wasn't girls that set him on fire. It wasn't soft curves and delicate touches that made him crazy. He was just exceptionally good at suppressing those feelings. His father would kill him for being one of those people. That was one of the nicer ways his dad liked to talk about people he didn't understand. There was so much internalized hatred that he had to work through and he was. He'd been making steps.  

Robin made all the difference in the world. When she'd tearfully come out to him on that dirty mall bathroom floor, Steve felt his whole world shift. He wasn't ready to say anything about his own situation, but he knew he wasn't alone anymore. Cue the end of the world, again, and suddenly it clicks for Steve. He could have died and he'd never come out and lived an authentic life. Never accepted himself all because his dad is a bigoted dick. All because society had decided that some love is wrong. So, Steve decides then and there: fuck that. Fuck his father and fuck society. Steve was gay. And he came out to Robin in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. All she'd said was 'I'm so proud of you dingus." and gave him a hug.  

So yes, Robbie knew all about the crush. They'd sit and talk all about every little thing Eddie would say to Steve. Even Robin had been so sure that Eddie was flirting and interested. She'd encouraged Steve to go for it. Steve had been sure too. All the cutesy nicknames and the way Eddie was always in his personal space. The constant touching. Was Eddie like that with everyone and Steve was just stupid?  

As Steve let himself get dizzier and dizzier and Air Supply sang about being all out of love and being lost without someone, Robin was letting herself into his house with her spare key. He figured she'd be there eventually and found he didn't have the energy to even care if she saw him this way. His hair was a mess, he'd been wearing the same pajamas for days. Takeout containers were strewn around his bedroom.  

"Steven Elizabeth, I am going to burn this goddamn tape! Holy shit, you are a mess." Robin yelled; her tone was judgmental but her face was filled with pity. He hated it.  

"I am wallowing. I'm a fucking mess." Steve shrugged, attempting to sit up. Robin ejected the tape, putting in her pocket. Steve made grabby hands but she quickly evaded him. "Also, my name isn't Steven Elizabeth." 

"Enough of this, Steve. I know it hurts. I probably know more than anyone. It's why I never make a move on Vickie. What if it goes wrong and then she knows about me and rejects me and then I'll be a social pariah and we won't even be friends." Robin rambled as Steve glared.  

"Thank you, Rob. So helpful. Rejected. Check. Pariah. Check. Lost a friend. Fucking check." Steve cries.  

"Sorry, I just get it. It will be okay though. As soon as I graduate, we should get the fuck out of this town. Go somewhere else. Indy. Chicago. A city where we can somewhat live openly. We can meet other gays and fall in love and move on from our tragic straight crushes."  

Steve considers her words. Leave Hawkins. The kids will be sophomores next year. Indy isn't so far away that he couldn't come back if something happens. He's been saving money for the past year and a half. He has his trust fund. He doesn't have to stay.  

"We'd get a shitty apartment and a cat. Find our favorite coffee shop. I could do whatever I want. Hell, I want to go to cosmetology school. I think I'd be really good at doing hair and shit. We could breathe away from this place. There's no freedom here, is there?" Steve said it all in rush, like he couldn't believe he was admitting it all out loud.  

"Let's fucking do it, Stevie. You would be amazing at that. You literally fix my hair on a regular basis. Let's go live our gay lives somewhere besides this shit hole. You can let go of Eddie and I can let go of Vickie. We can start over. No more shitty parents and closets." 

"Yeah, babe. Time to start making plans!" For the first time in weeks, months even, Steve felt hope stirring inside of him. He knows it's gonna be hard to tell Dustin and the others. He's not even sure if he should tell Eddie, but he will. He wishes things were different and that he could ask Eddie to come with them. Go back to the moment before he ruined everything and just be friends again.  

Maybe he could do that one day. Maybe leaving Hawkins for the city would put these feelings into perspective. The immense, overwhelming love he feels for Eddie would soften in a new setting and Steve could move on. Find a nice guy that he was compatible with and fall in love. He hopes that Eddie will at least be happy for him and Robin.  

______________________________________________

He tells his parents when they stop in for the weekend. About moving, not about cosmetology or being gay. Says he's applying to a community college in Indy and is going to live with Robin. Allows his parents to make their own assumptions as does Robin when she shares that Steve is moving with her. If their parents think they're dating, it's not the worst thing. It gets his dad off his case at the very least.  

He tells Dustin first. Dustin's response surprises him. Dustin tells him "It's about goddamn time you get of this town. you better call me all the time though." Steve promises to set up the phone first thing and ring him. The others react similarly. Happy for him, but sad he's going. He knows he's gonna miss them like crazy.  

He's still working up to calling Eddie. It's been three weeks and he hasn't heard a word from him. What he doesn't account for is the kids telling him before he gets a chance. It’s a humid Sunday afternoon and he and Robin are lounging by the pool, a pitcher of margaritas next to them. It’s halfway gone and they’d been heavy on the tequila. They’re delightfully tipsy.

Robin graduates next week. Then their packing up the beamer and finally going to visit Indy and find an apartment and jobs, hopefully. The sun is hot on Steve’s skin as he contemplates getting in the pool to cool off when he feels a shadow over him.  

“Rob, what the fuck. You’re blocking my sun.” Steve whines without even opening his eyes. 

“Uh huh, you’re blocking mine dingus.” She laughs in response. Both steadily heading out of the region of tipsy.  

Steve opens his eyes and Eddie Munson is standing over him. Arms crossed and his mouth in a tight line like he’s pissed. He isn’t even sure how the fuck he got into his backyard, but he is not prepared for this today. He doesn’t want to ruin the perfect vibe of this lazy Sunday afternoon with his best friend. He waits for Eddie to say something, but he just glares.  

“How the fuck did you even get in here, Munson?” Robin asks. If she sounds a bit meaner than usual, that’s her prerogative. She had to watch Steve cry over this guy for weeks. And that’s not counting all the pining prior to his disastrous love confession. She’d listened to that goddamn mixtape more times than she could count. 

“I rang the doorbell for like 10 minutes. I climbed the fence.” Eddie shrugs like it was a totally normal thing to do.  

“Well, what do you want? Want a margarita?” Steve asks, unsure of what to say or do, not with Eddie glaring down at him like he’s a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Fuck. Eddie fucking hates him.  

Eddie huffs. Steve is half expecting him to stomp his feet. It is not cute. Steve will not cave to these thoughts. Eddie Munson throwing a temper tantrum is not adorable like a puppy trying to act like a vicious dog.  

“I had to find out from the gremlins that you’re fucking leaving. You and Buckley are moving to Indy, apparently soon. Were you going to tell me or just leave?” Eddie finally asks. He looks angrier than Steve has ever seen him which makes him angry. The sheer audacity of this man to sit here and yell at him after ignoring him for weeks.  

“How dare you sit there and yell at him. Get out.” Robin responds. She’s visibly angry. “You have a lot of nerve to come here yelling at Steve like he did anything wrong!” 

“I didn’t do anything wrong either. Harrington's the one who had to make shit awkward. I still thought we were close enough friends that you guys would tell me you're leaving. Would you have left without saying goodbye?”  

“I was going to tell you, but I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me. You made your feelings very clear. And hey, no hard feelings. We can be friends, of course. I would have told you.” Steve felt the words spill out of him like he had no control over it. He hated to see the hurt look on Eddie’s face. He couldn’t stand being the cause of that for one second. “Can we just let it go. Pretend it never happened and go back to the way things were? Please?” 

“Dude, back to before I knew you were in love with me? I don’t think I can just forget that, but I do still want to be friends.” 

“I am moving on, it won’t be long before this unfortunate crush is just a shitty memory, yeah?” Steve joked despite the way his heart was breaking apart in his chest. He felt Robin squeeze his hand. God, he fucking loved her. “I’m sure I'll meet some cute guy in Indy and you won’t have to worry about a thing man.” 

“Right... a shitty memory. That’s. Of course, I'm sure you will meet someone.” Eddie replied, sounding like he was about freak out again. Couldn't even acknowledge that Steve would be meeting a guy. Eddie sat down next to Robin and pulled out a joint. Lit it up without a word and took a few hits before passing it over.  

Steve couldn’t take the tense energy that Eddie had brought so he plunged into the pool and let himself sink to the bottom. Be friends with Eddie like his heart didn’t ache every time he even thought about him. Be friends with the man he was head over heels in love with. He wasn’t sure he could do it. He knew it wasn’t fair to stop being friends with Eddie over this, but it hurt so much.

He finally swam up to the top and looked over at him and Robin bitching at each other lightly. She liked Eddie well enough, but never understood Steve’s infatuation. She’d made that very clear. So, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to him on any number of things. She was currently berating him for smoking. She’d plucked a cigarette out of his mouth and thrown it in the pool. Gross. Eddie was bemoaning the loss of his cigarette while Rob laughed and told him smoking was cancerous.  

It was gross, yes, but also fucking sexy when Eddie did it. He listened and occasionally threw in a bitchy reply of his own, but could barely follow along. All he could think about was the trip to Indy. The desperate need to escape this damn town and a certain metalhead in it. It would be a lot easier to move on when he only had to see Eddie whenever he visited home. Out of sight, out of mind was the plan for Steve. He climbed out of the pool and noticed the way Eddie wouldn’t even look at him until he had his towel wrapped around him. Idiot.  

“So, you’re going to University of Indiana, right Buck? What are you going to do Steve-O?” Eddie asked, honestly curious about their plans.  

“Yeah, I’ve got a scholarship for band.”  

“I’m going to cosmetology school. I want to do hair.” Steve replied. He was done giving a shit about what anyone thought of him or his interests. He knew people often thought ‘beauty school’ was too feminine. It was too gay. Not good enough for a Harrington boy who’d always excelled in sports. But fuck everyone, because he knows this is the right thing for him. 

“Shit, really? I reckon you’ll be good at that. They called you ‘The Hair’ in school. I mean, damn you managed to have nice hair during the end of the world. Makes sense.” Eddie smiled over at him and Steve felt his heart skip a beat. Goddamnit. 

“Thanks, man.” Steve replied softly. He felt embarrassed by the way Eddie was looking at him like he truly saw him. “Always thought you’d head off to the city somewhere the moment you were done with high school. You have any big plans?”  

“Shit, Jeff, Gareth and I are planning on moving together. It’s tentative right now. Grant might come, might be stuck going to school closer to home. Uh, Jeff and Gar are going to U of I. So, we’ll be in Indy too. Maybe, if it all works out. I mean, I’m not sure about leaving my uncle...the old man swears he’ll be fine. Tells me to get the fuck out of this town every time the topic comes up.” Eddie was stammering, clearly nervous to share this info with Steve and Robin.  

Steve felt his stomach drop but he pushed away the dread. Indianapolis was big enough that he’d probably never run into Eddie unless it was on purpose. It’d be nice to still see him occasionally. Eddie deserved to get out of this town, too. He’d never be accepted here. Always seen as the satanist, murder regardless of how many times the news and police declared him innocent of all charges. He sees the way people give Eddie dirty looks everywhere he goes. He’d even had his tires slashed and murderer written on his van in spray paint.

Yeah, it didn't matter how hard it would be for Steve to know Eddie was nearby. Eddie deserved to be free too. Robin’s quiet, simply sitting next to Steve holding his hand tightly. Her support clear, but letting Steve decide how to reply to this news. Eddie was hiding behind his hair. Not cute. Not adorable. Nope. 

  “That’s awesome. Your uncle is totally right. Run and don’t look back. This town is full of assholes who think the worst of you and you deserve a fresh start man. At least this way, we can still hang out sometimes, right?” Steve smiled. He pushed down all his negative feelings so that he could support his friend in this moment.  Eddie smiles back at Steve and it feels like the world makes sense.  

“Thanks, man. I gotta go talk to the guys. Make some plans, I guess. Figure out how to tell the kids. I’ll see you guys later.” Eddie walks over to the fence like he’s going to climb it.  

“Just unlock the gate man, don’t climb the fence for fuck’s sake.” Steve laughed and Eddie flipped him off as he scrambled over the fence in protest. Idiot. Steve hates the way it feels affectionate.  

Fuck.  

He feels Robin’s eyes on him. Shakes his head signaling his inability to discuss it right now. He was absolutely fucked. His fresh start away from Eddie wasn’t going to be such a fresh start after all. Maybe they’d never see each other. Maybe Eddie would find some metalhead girl and make metalhead babies that listen to metal lullabies and that would be enough for Steve to move the fuck on.  

For now, sitting by the pool with his best friend, knowing in a month or so, he’d be out of Hawkins and in the city. Where he might get to meet other gay guys. Might meet a guy who wants him back. It feels like enough to take a little bit of the heartache away.  

[911whatsyourgratitude]

Effort in Gratitude

Friends:

This can't keep happening. We all love this show so much. But we are hurting the people who are working tirelessly to bring it to us. The cast and crew work way too hard to be constantly attacked and bombarded. They are people. Real people who are working their asses off for us. But the way they have been treated by some people is just awful and eventually, they're going to ask themselves if it is worth it anymore. To be cruel and vicious to people who make themselves vulnerable for the sole purpose of making something for other people to enjoy? Why? It is exhausting to have the voices of cruelty and toxicity be the loudest in the room and speaking for all of us.

So, I propose a change. Let's make an effort in gratitude.

A tool in therapy is to take an emotion or feeling that you can't shake and reshaping it into something healthy and positive like affirmations or practices of mindfulness. Want to combat the helpless feeling you get when you see a surge of hate? Submit a gratitude! It's that simple. Let's take the toxic and turn it into something good. This blog will be a place where people can submit their gratitudes/appreciations/love for the show.

What does that mean?

Submissions and the ask box will be open for anyone who would like to submit a gratitude. Whether that be a shout out to the crew, praise for an episode, something about a character that has helped you, or even just a simple moment of gratitude and appreciation for the show. I will then post those gratitudes for the fandom to receive. I will also post a few every week on instagram after the episode airs without names attached since most of the cast and crew are on there mostly. These won't be sent to anyone's DMs but rather be presented the same way fan art/edits are posted with a simple tag. If you do not wish to have yours shared and simply just want to put some positivity into the universe then feel free to let us know.

Any negativity, toxicity, racism, bigoted, sexist, or otherwise offensive will be promptly deleted and then ignored. This goes for character bashing as well. This blog is not the place for any of that.

My hope is that this can be a place of light, positivity, kindness, compassion, and most importantly, gratitude for the people who work quite literally night and day to bring to life this incredible show that we all love.

[ratbastardman]

since we're all going around talking about what we learned from hbomberguy's video (SO FUNNY that's we're doing that like we've been told off by an adult saying we shouldn't eat random shit we find on the floor) i thought i'd say things also. as someone who watched james videos occasionally i often ended up clicking off them because eventually he'd say something weird. it was always worst when i was actually familiar with the subject he was talking about. i would think "he says he's not making enough money to keep the channel going so i guess this script didn't get the care it needed. sucks that he butchered a topic i care about but he must be creatively suffering under so much stress." i gave him the benefit of the doubt. besides the work he stole that made his videos appealing in the first place he said a lot of dumb shit. sometimes the absurdity of his statements would pierce the veil of ignorance but other times who knows what got past me. i unsubscribed to his channel months ago because of the bad takes i noticed but i cant know for sure there weren't bad takes i didn't. the other day i listened to a video essay by a cis ally who was calling out transphobia from a trans creator. it was all fine until they ended up agreeing with the person they were criticizing. they said they could understand how frustrating it is for binary trans people that non binary people get so much attention when they're not the ones really being oppressed. i'm trans and i'm not going to fall for that stupid talking point. but this cis youtuber did fall for it and ended up affirming it to their followers. when we don't understand a subject (especially when the subject is about a marginalized identity that is not our own) we shouldn't be comfortable repeating what just one person says. we shouldn't be comfortable not checking if what they say is true or not. we can do better than that. check what content creators say. they might be wrong, bigoted or plagiarizing someone actually worth listening to. or in the case of james somerton: all of the above. that's what hbomberguy's video was about to me.

ps. dreamsounds is a now inactive channel that ended because the work become too high for pay too low. you know, the thing james lied about struggling with? the creator was a lovely woman who deserved everything james took for granted. justice for dreamsounds.

[daedalusdavinci]

22, twobat. heard u were talkin SHIT

22. While someone demeans your lover, standing up for them. Either in word, or by physically placing yourself right in front of them as a protective barrier. im thinking about emotional dysregulation and a strong sense of justice and how bruce is the reason alfred lost all his hair. in the words of karkat vants: anger can be a love language. alksdjnfsldjknfs i am NOT editing this

You get in fights for him. You've been getting in fights since no one gave your parents a chance to, something in you quick to snap and your fists faster than anyone could stop. You don't know how many strings Alfred had to pull to keep you from being suspended in middle school, but you know it was a lot, because he used to pick you up with a sigh written in the lines of his face, white gloves hiding the tension in his hands on the steering wheel. Sometimes he tried to argue with you about it. You never folded, because you were certain you were right.

Your school records are a mud-stained mess of arguing with teachers, getting in between a bigot and a victim, and the crack of your fist against someone else's jaw. You grew up stocky and angry, and you never had a problem taking things outside so someone else didn't have to. You think a part of you still feels like if you take on every fight yourself, no one else will ever have to get hurt. Regardless, it means that the college you get into isn't near as prestigious as everyone expects of you, and you know Alfred had to grease a lot of palms to do it. You think he's hoping maybe you'll keep your head down for a few years, and the intellectual challenge will be enough to keep your fists steady.

But then you meet Harvey, and he's simultaneously everything Alfred wants for you and everything Alfred doesn't.

He's optimistic in a way you aren't, level-headed and determined, but filled with the same drive for justice you are. Unlike you, he got in with scholarships and smarts, and he tells you stories about the kind of lawyer he's going to be one day, and the way Gotham will change. He flips some kind of switch in your brain, and your plan for the future starts to take a slightly different shift, accommodating for a world where you're not the only one who cares. He motivates you. He challenges you. He makes you better, and you think Alfred would like the person you become when you're around him.

At the same time, Harvey's a brown kid struggling with some kind of disability you'd never heard of before you met him, and the privileged fucks around you can smell it. So you get in fights. You're so quick to snap to his defense, putting yourself between them and him because you've never done anything else in your life, and Harvey tells you he's sick of patching you up, because you're bleeding again and he thinks it's his fault and he's trying to make you laugh.

It works. It always works when it's Harvey.

In later years, they'll call him Apollo. He's the handsome white knight who brings light back to Gotham, and he'll find it embarrassing and flattering all at once. You'll tell him you think it's apt, and he'll shove you, laughing like you told him a joke. But in college, he's the sun you orbit your world around, warming you when nothing else will.

The dean calls Alfred after you land a kid in the hospital. He doesn't need hospital treatment, but his friends don't know medicine like you do, and they panicked. He'll be fine. Alfred still calls you, cold, clipped anger in his voice, and you feel like you're eight again, angry and muddy and past the point of reason, the crushing feeling of a meltdown spiraling past what you can handle. Alfred tries hard to be a parent, and he tries to be a butler, and you're his kid and his spoiled charge, and this isn't the first time the two of you haven't nailed the impression of a functional family unit. You fight.

Med students aren't supposed to hurt people. Med students aren't supposed to snap and beat the shit out of other students. Med students aren't supposed to have meltdowns, no matter how crazy the workload is, no matter how much injustice happens in the medical field alone, no matter how much injustice your best friend faces at the hands of people you're supposed to view as mentors. Med students aren't supposed to recognize themselves in the textbooks. The dean is threatening you, and you're supposed to shape up.

In a few days, you still haven't gotten over it. Alfred isn't talking to you, you're not talking to Alfred, and a call from Leslie only makes things worse. You don't go out of your way to pick fights, but you don't need to, because people seem a little afraid to say anything after you sent that kid to the hospital. Harvey tells you it'll blow over with a grim confidence that you take seriously. It sounds too much like he's speaking from experience.

Then, someone makes a comment about your parents. It's not a particularly interesting comment- you've heard much, much worse over the years, and they've lost a lot of their effect. It stings- it's cruel- but you brush it off. You're in enough trouble already, and you've never cared about standing up for yourself the way you do about standing up for others.

Harvey's fist snaps out before you know what's happening.

The kid is flat on his ass, gaping up at you both, and Harvey is brimming with rage. "Shut the fuck up," he says, thick and growling. "You'd be fucking lucky if your parents loved you half as much. They probably only sent you here to get rid of you."

"Harv!" You grab his arm, tugging his attention back to you. You're torn between shock and worry, but worried for him, and what this will mean for him once the stupid kid reports him to the dean. You think for a terrifying moment that he could get expelled, and selfishly, you don't know what you'd do here without him.

You can tell he's furious, but he lets you drag him away, ushering the both of you away from the scene before things can escalate further. You stand in an abandoned stairwell and Harvey's fingers clench and unclench in your sweater as you hold his arms, giving him time to breathe.

"You didn't have to do that," you tell him quietly.

"Shut the fuck up, Bruce," he scoffs. His gaze flickers up to your face, thumb grazing the bottom of a bruise that's purpled in the past few days. You didn't get out of that fight scot-free, but no one ever cares about that. Except Harvey, who always cares. "You don't get to talk to me about when I should or shouldn't stick up for someone."

You don't have anything to say to that. The words all dry up in your throat as you stare at him, caught on the heat of his touch, the soft brown of his lips, and the determination in his face, like he'd do it all over again. You've never met anyone who understood you the way Harvey does, who matched your drive for justice and inspired you so completely. You look at him the way an astronomer looks at the stars, struck by their beauty and complexity- understanding, and yet endlessly wanting to know more, to know everything, to hold something you don't think you ever can. "Okay."

Something pricks embarrassed in his face, eyes shifting away suddenly. You think his cheeks are a little darker, but it's hard to tell.

You'll think about that moment for years. For years, when you hold his face and try to figure out how to tell him all the ways you love him, and when you watch him become the hero you always knew he could be, and when you watch him fall, holding his hand in the hospital and meeting his eyes across a rooftop, you'll think about what it was like to be so young, trying to put words to the way you wanted to press your lips to his. You tell him, once, that you think you're always going to see that little college kid in him, and he laughs at you. His laugh has turned raspy after years of smoking, and the shake of his shoulders makes the chains rattle, but it's the same laugh. "Maybe it's better that way," he says, grinning. "We were two of a kind, back then."

"Three," you correct.

His grin turns a little more sincere, a little more embarrassed. He says his words like a tease, but it's only to lighten the truth. "We thought the sun shined out of your ass."

"That's just the light reflecting off of it," you say, and he laughs again. You still love his laugh.

These days, you fight each other. You don't think it'll ever stop you from loving them both every bit as much as you did then.

[newtthetranswriter]

Kuroo's right for once

Word count: 2841

Summary: When an appointment comes up and you miss the chance to potentially meet your soulmate, your best friend makes it his mission to try and find them for you. He is successful but you refuse to believe him, but boy are you shocked when said potential soulmate comes to your school for a training camp and your friend was right.

Paring: Koshi Sugawara x Nonbinary reader

Warnings: Talk of doctors and hrt, Kuroo being cocky

A/n: Hey everyone, I decided to write a lovely little piece about everyone's favorite Volleyball mom. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, I really am a sucker for a good soulmate au. Once again, the reader is nonbinary, but I tried to make it so you could imagine either a transmasculine individual or transfeminine individual, but it kinda leans more masculine. Any ways enjoy and special shout out to @keigotakamiz who asked to be tagged. I hope you enjoy, remember to hydrate or diedrate, and have a good day. REQUEST ARE OPEN

    Being the manager of the Nekoma High Boy’s Volleyball team was great. I was surrounded by fun rambunctious guys who treated me like one of the guys. It’s rare for there to be any problems with the guys, because they all know that if they fuck with me Kuroo will likely beat their asses and Kenma will definitely hack their phones and/or computers to teach them a lesson. You see, I grew up with Kuroo and Kenma, we treated each other like siblings and they have been my number one supporters since I came out a few years ago. They always defended me when bigots tried to make fun of me or threaten me, though no one really took Kenma seriously till he gave some bully’s entire family a virus with just a simple text message. 

    They got even more protective when Kuroo and I turned 15 and our soulmarks started showing up. Soulmarks are strange, they reflect the passion and interest of your soulmate, and once you meet for the first time, or you both have your marks, your soulmate’s name appears somewhere in the mark. My mark contained a volleyball and some books, there were also a couple of food items that I assume are my soulmates favorite foods. Kuroo’s mark for the first few months was just some game consoles and not much else, until a volleyball also appeared on his mark. We had no clue who our soulmates were, but I had an assumption on who Kuroo’s was.

    A year later when Kenam got his mark, my assumption was proven correct. When Kenma got his mark his name appeared on Kuroo’s arm with his mark, while wrapped around Kenmas wrist was Kuroo’s name. I was glad my best friends realized they were made for eachother, but it just made me more desperate to find my nerdy volleyball playing other half. To be honest I mainly became the volleyball team’s manager to find my soulmate. I figured if this was one of their interests I could find them easier if I work with a team.

   Unfortunately after nearly three years of being the team's manager I have yet to meet my soulmate. I’ve met every player in the Fukurodani Academy Group, and while everyone is nice and fun to talk with, none of them are my soulmate. It felt like I was fighting a losing battle. That was until I found out that coach Nekomata agreed to hold a practice match with a school from Miyagi Prefecture. This would be my chance to meet other teams and potentially run into my soulmate.

    Two days before we were set to leave for Miyagi, I was hanging out with Kuroo and Kenma. We were just relaxing as over the next week the boys would be playing an endless number of practice matches, and I was daydreaming about finally meeting my other half. I was lost in thought while Kenma was going on about a character in his new video game, my phone started buzzing. Looking down at it, I saw that it was my doctor's office. I quickly shushed the boy’s before picking up the phone.

    “Hello” I was greeted by the person on the other end. “This is Kyoka from Dr. Ieiri’s office, I’m calling to speak to Y/n Y/l/n.” They asked.

    “This is Y/n, how can I help you?” I was confused as to why my doctor’s office would call me, my next appointment isn’t for another month.

    There was a small pause and the sound of typing before they responded. “I’m glad to have reached you. I’m calling because you were on a cancellation list for your next appointment, and it seems that someone has canceled and we are able to get you in sooner.” They typed some more presumably looking for the date and time. “Would you be able to come in this wednesday at 12pm?” 

   I paused for a second, I really had to think about it. Kuroo gave me a look that said what’s up. I quickly muted my end of the call after asking the person on the other end to give me a moment. “There’s an opening on Wednesday to see my doctor. I could go and get my questions answered about going on Hrt, but then I couldn’t go to Miyagi with the team.” I explained. There was a look of understanding that crossed both Kenma and Kuroo’s face. They both knew the internal debate I was having. “I know this is a great opportunity because I’ve been thinking about going on hrt for years. But this could be my only chance to meet my soulmate. I could always say I can't make it and wait for my appointment next month.” I said about to unmute the phone.

   “Wait Y/n/n, you should really take this earlier appointment. You are right, this might be your only chance to go to Miyagi for a while, but you will meet your soulmate one day. If it makes you feel better Kenma and I can keep an eye out for someone who fits your mark and has a mark that fits you, while we’re there. It may feel like you have to pick between the two, but think of it as if the appointment goes well you can be one step closer to your best self when you do meet them.” Kuroo said, making valid points. While I would love to finally meet my soulmate, it will happen when the time is right. In the meantime I can keep working to become the me I want to be. 

    I gave a quick thank you before unmuting the phone. “Sorry I had to check my schedule, I can make that appointment time.” I finally answered. I received a ‘great see you on Wednesday at noon’ and then hung up the phone. I smiled at Kuroo, “again thank you for the encouragement. I’m sure I will have another chance to meet my soulmate soon. And you guys really don’t have to spend your time looking for my soulmate, you should enjoy your time making new friends, and playing volleyball.” I told the two.

    “Whatever you say, but if I happen to find them I’m telling you right away.” Kuroo said. He then turned to the boy who had zoned out of the conversation. “Hey Kenma, you’ll help me look for Y/n’s soulmate right?” He asked his boyfriend. He just received an eye roll before the dual haired boy went back to his game. “He’ll totally help.” He said with a laugh. We then spent the next few hours chatting and then it was time for me to head home. I wished the boys goodnight before going home feeling excited that I could be one step closer to my dreamself by the end of the week.

    By the time Wednesday rolled around I was beyond anxious, I had gotten up early to bid the volleyball team goodbye before they left for Miyagi. Getting another round of Kuroo saying he was going to ‘subtly’ look for my soulmate, before they finally boarded the bus and left for the week. Once they were gone, I went back home to have breakfast and get ready for the day.

    After my appointment I couldn’t be happier, my doctor approved me going on hrt and sent out the prescription. It would take a few days before it was filled but I was so happy, I’m one step closer the best me I can be. I had messaged the team group chat telling everyone the good news, receiving a bunch of congratulations and memes of support from the team. I also noticed Kuroo saying he was happy for me but he hadn’t found my soulmate for me yet. That got the rest of the team going, most of them joining in saying they’d help. The others mostly Kenma and Yaku telling them that they’re dumb and not to try and mess with fate.

    I texted with the boys in between their practice matches, getting multiple updates on the mission to find my other half, as well as multiple requests for me to just get a train ticket and come to Miyagi to save Yaku from the tribe of idiots, his words not mine. I sadly had to decline as I didn’t have the money for the ticket and had to be here in Tokyo when my prescription was ready. Eventually I bid the team good night and went to bed. 

    It had been four days since the boys left, today was the day that they were going against Nekoma’s old rival school Karasuno High. I sent the chat a good luck message before going about my day. It was Sunday so I finished up some homework, and then did a few chores around the house. Around 1 o’clock I got a message from Kuroo. I checked my phone and couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

    From RoosterHead: I found him.

    To RoosterHead: Sure you did. What makes you so sure that this poor guy you’re probably harassing is my soulmate.

    From RoosterHead: First, what's with the sass. Second, I'm not harassing him. Third, his mark is the epitome of you.

    To RoosterHead: What if my mark isn’t the epitome of him, have you even asked if he’s met his soulmate yet. 

    From RoosterHead: Yes I have, He has yet to meet his soulmate, who loves drawing, video games and is very passionate about their gender identity.

    From RoosterHead: And before you say ‘that could be anyone in the LGBTQ’ one of the drawings on his arm is of Victor from Yuri on Ice.

    To RoosterHead: That proves nothing, lots of trans and queer people love Yuri on Ice.

    From RoosterHead: Fine don’t believe me. But I’m getting his number cause he’s actually a pretty chill dude, understands that school is important and does not slack off like someone I know.

    I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me, leaving him on read. I went back to working on cleaning up my art desk. Throughout the day I received texts from nearly the whole team telling me that this third year from Karasuno was definitely my soulmate. It got to the point that I just muted my notifications so I didn’t have to deal with their pestering. Eventually it got late enough that I finally went to bed, not completely ready to deal with Kuroo and his bullshit when the team gets back to Tokyo.

    It’s been two months since the trip to Miyagi that Kuroo swears he found my soulmate on and it’s the only thing he wants to talk about half the time. Even Kenma has started telling him to shut up about it. Kenma has even threatened to stop talking to him at all if he didn’t stop trying to convince me that some setter in a different prefecture was my soulmate. The only way to know for sure is for me to actually meet him face to face and the chances of that happening were slim to none. Or at least that’s what I thought until the other day at practice.

    “Hey Y/nnnn, I got great news.” I heard the sing-song voice of my best friend.

    I rolled my eyes, he was probably gonna either tell me he gives up trying to convince me or by some miracle I’ll be meeting this guy who is supposedly my soulmate. “I swear to Victor Nikiforov, if you pester me about this soulmate thing I will shove a volleyball so far up your ass it’ll look like you’re pregnant.” I said with a completely straight face, earning a chuckle from Yaku as he walked by.

    Kuroo gave a gasp of shock. “First it’s rude to assume things because it makes an ass out of you and me. Secondly I was just going to tell you that Karasuno is going to be coming to the training camp this weekend. I wasn’t going to bring up the soulmate thing, but now that you mention it. This will be a great opportunity for me to prove that I did in fact find your soulmate, and I will be expecting a full thank you and apology for doubting me, including chocolate.” He responded with a cocky smile.

     “For the last time Kuroo, I doubt this guy is my soulmate. But if it will shut you up I’ll keep an open mind, if you happen to be right you get a thank you that’s it.” I said getting up to help clean the gym as the team captain was now too busy praising himself for his so called ‘successful job of convincing me’.

     It was finally Saturday and the Karasuno team would be arriving shortly, and as much as I didn’t want Kuroo to be right, I couldn’t help but be nervous. There was a strong possibility that someone on the team was my soulmate. I waited with the rest of the team outside of the school as the bus pulled up in front of us. The first pair to climb off the bus was a bald kid and a shorter guy with two toned hair, their first response was to yell about the sky tree while looking at a completely normal steel tower. This had Kuroo doubled over cackling at their stupidity.

     Shortly after them more boys started to file off the bus. The one that caught my eye was a boy with gray hair wearing a white t-shirt with a bag over his shoulder. He was talking with a taller guy with a beard and long hair who I assumed was the ace I had briefly heard about after their trip to Miyagi. I noticed his soulmark as he got closer to us, it had the image of an open sketchbook showing a detailed drawing of Victor from Yuri on Ice, just like Kuroo had said. It also had color pencils laid out in a pattern that resembled the Transgender and Non-binary pride flags. I was starting to see why Kuroo thought this guy may be my soulmate. There was only one thing left to do.

     As the pair approached us Kuroo recovered from his laughing fit. He stood up straight and started to introduce me to boys. “Y/n this is Asahi Azumane, the ace of Karasuno. And this is Koshi Sugawara, Third year setter, and your soulmate.” He said so nonchalantly that I nearly punched him in his smug face. I watched as Sugawara blushed slightly. I assume Kuroo has been texting him with the same notion that he knew who his soulmate was. “Asahi why don’t we leave these two, and get you guys settled in.” He said, sending a sly smile my way before dragging the stuttering ace away from me and his friend.

     “I’m sorry about him, ever since he met you guys he’s been insistent that he met my soulmate. Anyway it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” I said introducing myself.

     He smiled at me before raising his hand to shake mine. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/l/n. As Kuroo said, I'm Koshi Sugawara, but you can call me Suga.” I returned the hand shake. 

     Everything seemed normal until I felt a small tingling sensation in my wrist. I looked at it and watched as his name appeared across one of the books on my arm. It seemed Sugawara was experiencing the same thing, as he watched his arm in amazement. After the shock wore off, we made eye contact. “Well shit, I guess I have to apologize to Kuroo for once in my life.” I said in a sarcastic tone. Suga responded with a laugh before we started talking about our respective marks. 

     We had been chatting about the meaning of the pride flags that were subtly placed throughout Suga’s mark when the door to the school opened again. “Hey Love birds, as happy as I am to have been right, we kinda have practice matches to get to and Karasuno need’s their setter.” Kuroo said, poking his head through the door. I quickly flipped him off, earning a chuckle and Kuroo slipping back into the building.

     “Sorry about him Suga, but he’s right we should get back inside, we can talk more at lunch.” I said as we made our way back inside.

     He just nodded, before speaking. “It’s fine. And we can definitely talk at lunch as long as the guys actually leave me alone, they’re all going to be so excited that I finally found you. Only a couple of the guys have found their soulmates, so they get really excited when one of us does.” He explained. As we were about to split up so he could get changed into something more suited for playing sports he said something that caught me off guard. “Oh and call me Koshi.” And with that he disappeared into the locker room.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi! I loved the crow anon story thing so much it was so great! I was wondering if it was possible if you could do one with like a Honduran bat hybrid reader (magic choice up to you but I thought potion magic would be cute) who overworks themselves a lot and the platonic yans are like ‘>:0’

Aaaawwwww! Honduran bats are so cute!!! I'll see what we can cook up! And potions, yes! May I call you Bat Anon? Let's do it like this:

• You tended to be a busy bee (well, bat). Always cooking up a new potion, picking out ingredients and charms, writing instructions and symptoms for each one, selling the latest in helpful potions and magical ones, such as ones for mental wellness, emotional-filling, and mini good-lucks and warm-feelings, along with fairy-wings and plant-growing and rain-making and so many, many more... It kept your hands and wings busy all night and all day long, overworking your wings and hands trying to make enough!

• Your newest patrons were animal hybrids. Ones who were always asking which ingredients you used and buying any potions that caught their eye. They always complimented you and your craft, and happily told you where to find the best ingredients and which vendors were nice. They always payed well, leaving tips, too. And with the sudden increase in customers and demand of your wares, you had to work extra hours just to keep up with the demands...

• By the next month, you're exhausted. Only two or three hours a sleep per day/night, drinking enough caffeine-filled beverages to wake up a snoozing dragon, and underweight due to neglecting to eat, all in the name of keeping your business running and ahead of the competition. You've almost fallen asleep on customers a few times, only to chug a potion that happened to be a mix of coffee, adrenaline, and lightning, to keep yourself awake. Your newest friends, those odd patrons of yours, took offense to that.

• The moment you tell then how you've been able to keep your small store stocked and the customers happy and with their potions, you're met with hands dragging you to the back and pushing you onto the nearest sofa or chair or bean bag. Next thing you know, heavily-scented tea is shoved into your hands, and you're ordered to drink every last drop. Any protest is met with a firm no, and you're told theyll handle your store when you need to rest. Starting now.

• The moment the tea hits your tongue, you're relaxing into the plush surface beneath you, sighing contentedly. A warm mix of lavender, honey, and caramel fills your tastebuds, and you quickly down the rest of the cup. Once you finished, a wave of calm, relaxed sleepiness tugs at you, then you're lying down, snuggled under a blanket that had been tucked around you. The background noise of clinking bottles and stirring liquids send you off into a fuzzy slumber, for once your body and mind getting the rest it needs since you opened up shop...

• The platonic yans keep the shop afloat, those who excel at potions mixing up the ones that were written down on a list, while those who are able to refill samples and clean up do so. They care about their little baby bat, and they shouldn't have to run themself into the ground just to please others and to keep themself in business. So they'll help as much as Reader needs, all while making sure they rest and eat and take breaks. If they have to set a day where their shop stays closed, so be it. Their little bat bud needs rest and relaxation, which they'll happily supply them with!

• If any rude customers or bigots try to start something or insist to speak speak Reader or try to break anything, the adults will happily deal with them (setting Wolverine and/or Sabretooth and/or even Erik on them). The teens can keep the shop tidy and make sure Reader gets their scheduled sleep, as well as takes any tea they make them and eats their meals. And if Reader is a little cold, no worries. They can happily volunteer one of themselves to cuddle with them while they rest...

• The platonic yanderes all care about Reader, and while they love their potions, they'll make sure Reader is well-rested and fed and feeling well before they let them go back to making them. And if they maybe start to offer to work with Reader, or join their businesses together (or maybe slip them into their coven by "accident"), well... Whatever helps keep them warm and and feeling well, right?

[hotluncheddie]

not to get political or anything BUT i can’t sleep so it’s time for gator legging thots teeheeebeee 👹

you have to start slow with him, despite begging for it multiple times a day like a needy slut he still thinks it’s a little bit gay (he’s just very scared and so you have a discussion about the difference between being scared and being bigoted). when you get him to settle into the idea, it starts with some fingers on his perineum as you suck him off. you help him douche, and the first time you actually get any fingers up there he stops you about two minutes in. after giving him ample aftercare and forehead kisses, you drop the idea completely until a month later you come home and find him with his own fingers buried deep inside of hole, whimpering and leaking with pleasure. although his hearing has gotten better since he went blind, he clearly didn’t hear you and so you left him to play with himself while you went to drop off some library books.

still not wanting to pressure him, you give him due time to explore and think on his own until one day you’re working your hand over his cock and he gets very upset. he asks why you haven’t asked him about anal since the day he stopped you, especially since he knew you had been there and was hoping you’d find him (so much for being sneaky). after a long and productive conversation about what he had explored and was comfortable with, you agreed to try experimenting again.

this led to his current predicament. gator was naked now with his ass lined up against a dildo that had been suctioned to a wall. for the last half hour, you had been guiding his hips on and off the plastic, fucking him deep and fast but never enough to let him arrive to pleasure. if he tried to sink back himself, he would feel your hard hand smack across his pale and luscious skin. tears were running down his face as you told him how pretty and well behaved he was, he was finally ready to take real cock. his ability to speak left him as you rolled him over, kissing along his neck and pressing extra lube to his hole. you grabbed his hand and he consented with two squeezes, ready to feel the stretch of your strap on. it was so overwhelming that he almost fully blacked out as you rolled your hips against him, unaware of the tantalizing and wanton sounds he was making each time you brushed his prostate. when he finally did come, it was with a silent scream as you licked the spot right below his ear that drove him so crazy. even though you were only away from him briefly while you cleaned the scene up and peed (no utis here), he could barely breath without your touch. he hadn’t slept as well as he did that night spooning you since he was a little boy.

RAAAAA IDK IF I LIKE IT BUT WHATEVA -🫚

i saw this while i was a WORK and i had to CONTAIN myself!!! it was very DIFFICULT!!!!

bc BARK BARK BARK BARK

like i’m obsessed with thisssssss!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

just him getting overwhelmed the first time and then WANTING to be found playing with himself!!!!! the little brat!!!!!

and the ughhhhhhh him fucking a dildo on the wall?!?! but only when you move him!!! no fucking himself!! you do all the fucking tonight!!! such a good needy boy!!! going so sweet and pliant, mind too foggy for words anymore 🥴🥴🥴🥴 and then he would need such close gooey aftercare!! he’s sleep so well!! loved getting filled so much!!!

-

that night where you finally went there together. stretching him out and fucking him stupid on your strap. it’s all you can both think about. you want to see him whimper and cry the way he did when he was stuffed full and fucked stupid. you want to get him sloppy wet with lube again and see that flush go all the way down to his hip bones. want to tease him for being such a cock slut.

you both need it. as soon as possible.

a lazy sunday afternoon rolls around and gator comes over already squirming. you hope your guess is right as to why but you want him to say it. want him to beg for it.

when you greet him at the door he lunges forward for a already sloppy kiss, the kind he’d give halfway though a date, when he’s floating off somewhere, not right at the start.

you hold him gently by the throat, not squeezing, just using the loose grip to hold his face at an angle you can see him at. ‘want something baby?’ you coo, watching his pretty lips part, mouth wet and pink and wanting.

he swallows, leaning into your hand. ‘want, want it again.’ he says.

‘and what’s it?’ you ask, ‘be a big boy and use your words.’ the condescension makes gator shiver, flush pretty pink.

‘want, want the strap again mommy.’ he whispers. you feel the vibrations from his soft voice travel up his neck.

‘oh, good boy.’

he moans as you pull him into a hug, grabbing two handfuls of his ass and squeezing. finger searching for his hole through his sweats. ‘that why you’re so riled up already?’ you ask. circling his already loose hole, you gasp a little ‘did you already stretch yourself?’ and gator whines, nodding into your neck and grinding his cock against your thigh. ‘needy slut’, he wants it so badly, already so pretty and loose for you, mind half gone.

‘strip and sit on the couch.’ you command, going to get the strap and lube from the bedroom.

you come back to gators on his hands and knees across the couch. back arched and tongue lolling slightly out of his mouth. he’s beautiful.

you trace his back and the curve of his ass. slipping two fingers in easily, adding a third after he begs for it so sweetly, a bit of drool slipping out and falling on the pillows beneath him.

‘ple-please mommy.’ he whines, arching back into your fingers, easily taking three.

you smack his ass lightly. ‘up. baby’s going to ride it.’ and gator scrambles to stand, a little unsteady but you guide his hand to the strap at your hips, letting him feel the length again. holding his hand as you settle back in the couch, pulling him to straddle your hips.

his mouth is still pretty and open and panting. he raises up high on his knees and grips your hand harder as the other lines up the toy with his wet hole. his panting tuning into near constant whimpers and whines as you guide him to sink slowly onto the toy, holding his thighs still to let him settle once he reaches the base.

he breaths heavily through his nose, tears slipping out now and you swirl one of his hard pink nipples into your mouth. ‘move for mommy baby.’ you prompt.

and gator does, beautifully.

he lifts up almost to the tip, before gliding smoothly back down, increasing the pace quickly. rocking his hips and forcing the toy as deep as it will go. bouncing on it. holding onto your shoulders for support and you can’t help watching him, awed. your sweet, desperate boy taking what he needs, asking for what he wants and doing so good, being so perfect.

his cock in red and leaking, pressed between the two of you. you want to see him finish, he’s held out so well. ‘cum for mommy baby. cum on mommy cock.’ you need to see him come like this, above you.

he speeds up, letting it fill him over and over again. grinding on the toy and grinding his cock between your bodies, chasing it, building to his peak. you wrap you hand around his length and pump once. gator wails, cumming all over your chest and stomach, riding out his orgasm by grinding in tight little circles, moaning.

you pull his head down, licking deeply in his mouth, carding your fingers into his hair and pulling, relishing in his whine.

you guide him to pull off and lay on the couch cushions. taking off the strap to kiss him and whisper phrases between each peck. he did so well, fucking himself so good.

but you can’t take it anymore. ‘will baby do something for mommy?’ you ask, licking over his lips and tracing his jaw with your fingers. he nods, eager, cute.

you kiss him one more time, rising up to straddle either side of his face. ‘oh fuck.’ gator moans, pulling you down onto his eager mouth.

-

🫣🫣🫣

🫚 what you sent was so good thank you!!! i enjoyed reading it so much fuck!!!

hope this was okay i think we mentioned mommy kink before but ye i hope it doesn’t make u uncomfy <3

[former-leftist-jew]

I really loved your post about religious extremism and I wanted to add that a lot of the people using the "peaceful, noble Palestinian" trope (like you said, the noble savage trope) would have no problem understanding that a Christian population is bigoted against gays because they were raised in that faith and ministered to by bigots -- for instance, Russian leadership using the language of Christianity to make "same sex propaganda" illegal (I literally know someone who went to jail for kissing another woman in front of Russian police) and then holding them to account when said government is removed from power, or even refusing to forgive them even when they've changed. These are totally understandable reactions to bigotry, even societal bigotry (my grandfather remains deeply homophobic due to his Christianity and even if he one day changes, I don't know that I'll be able to forgive him for supporting conversion therapy).

But when it's a non-Western population? Suddenly those people CAN'T be bigoted and CAN'T have been fed antisemitism and hatred for their entire lives because. I don't know, it's different with them! I know so many wonderful, affirming, progressive Muslims who have done the work to reinterpret and decolonize their faith, the same as I do Christians, Jews, Hindus, etc.. But I also know that in the Middle East, many don't DO that sort of reflection -- largely because they don't have the ability to due to decades of corrupt leadership and authoritarian rule. You can be a victim of religious extremism by virtue of being raised in it, but we NEED to hold these people to the same standards as we do Westerners coming out of religious extremism.

I'm not shocked Palestinians support Hamas -- it fucking sucks in Gaza, and has for a while. That's how terrorism gets its roots, same as the Taliban, the KKK, Al-Qaeda, etc; it preaches to a suffering population and promises it everything it wants, if only you'll hate XYZ group, if only you'll give us your children, etc. If we truly want to free Palestine -- which I do, I am a supporter of Palestinian self determination and ending anti-Arab racism and Islamophobia -- then we need to understand all this and help them decolonize and de-terrorize.

(I hope any of that made sense, I just sort of rambled)

Daww, thank you! I'm glad my pot struck a chord with you. ^_^

Yeah, believe it or not, I do have a lot of sympathy for the average Palestinian Muslim/Christian. It's just... like Atticus said of Mayella Ewell in To Kill a Mockingbird, my sympathy doesn't extend so far as to condone anihilating Israel and massacring all Jews.

I do believe that everyone has a right to self-determination and self-government. Gay people have a right to marry who they love, trans people have a right to dress and live as the gender they identify as, Arab Muslims have a right to worship Allah with Muhammad as his last and final Prophet, Jews have a right to self-determine and self-govern, etc.

TBH, I think there's a cruel irony that an estimated 30-60% of Palestinian Arabs share ancient Canaanite/Hebrew ancestry with modern Jews (meaning, they're also descended from ancient Jews), but since the region was forcibly conquered and converted by Islamic Caliphs in the 600's, it's fair to assume their Jewish ancestors were colonized and/or forcibly converted. (Or at least passively pressured to convert over time, since non-Muslims in Sharia Law are made to pay a poll tax and live as second-class citizens to Muslim citizens--so who wouldn't want to switch to Islam under that literal two-tiered legal system?)

Part of me thinks, "Why would you WANT to stay with Islam when your ancestors were conquered and forcibly converted (or at least passive-aggressively pressured to convert) as sure as Vietnam is largely Catholic because of their French Catholic former colonisers? BUT AGAIN, I respect their right to self-determination and their desire for self-government. If the Palestinian Muslims with ancient Hebrew blood want to stay with Islam, live in an Islamic society, and be ruled by an Islamic government, that's their right.

With that said, part of me feels like the average Palestinian Muslims (and Christians) have been duped by their Islamofascist government to see Israeli Jews not as long-lost brothers and sisters who finally returned home after centuries in exile, but as "foreign invaders" trying to take what little scraps they have. Both in the early 20th century and early 21's century.

You know that leftist meme that goes like:

"A CEO, white kid, and black kid sit at a table. The CEO's plate is piled high with 10 cookies, white the kids' are empty. He then tosses a cookie to the white kid and says, 'That black kid wants to steal your cookie.'"?

That is LITERALLY Hamas is doing to the Palestinian Arabs and Jews!

Hamas notoriously hoards as much of Gaza's food, fuel, water, resources, and wealth as they can, throw their people just enough scraps to get by, and then tells them, "Those Jews wants to steal your land, your religion, and your liberty. Help us kill the Jew, and you'll be living in Paradise." When the state of the rest of the Middle East (which have little to no Jews left in them) shows otherwise.

And I'm so disgusted by how the Left West recognizes that manipulation tactic when it comes to rich white CEO's duping poor whites into blaming black "welfare queens" and brown "illegal immigrants" for their lack of the good life, but somehow CAN'T connect the dots when Islamofascist dictators who openly hoard all their country's resources for themselves and spread oppressive violence and misogyny to the rest of the population do the exact same thing to the average impoverished Muslim regarding "Jews" and "Western invaders."

The average Muslim? Believe it or not, I DO have some sympathy. Based on what I've seen and read from various ex-Muslims, it sounds like Arab Islamic culture doesn't really encourage critical thinking, self-examination, or widespread education as the norm. MANY ex-Muslims I've met and talked to IRL, and that I follow on social media, talk about how, when they were growing up

A lot of Palestinians are also pretty upfront about how "we don't question" what they've been taught about Islam and Jews.

But, you know what? As far as I'm concerned, it's time to START questioning. It's time to START thinking about it. It's time to START making room for non-Muslims to live beside and share equal rights and resources with Muslims.

And I'm so grossed out that the Western Left encourages the religious bigotry, intolerance, and "no dogs or Jews allowed here!" segregation because "It's their culture/religion." Well then, they need to change with the times like everyone else.

[stranded-ziggy]

Got home from work and tried to draw but I'm just not feeling it so...have some more thoughts since I don't want to go to therapy because frankly I'm too lazy.

So, touch wood but, whatever I was going through in the last couple of months seems to have left and I'm back to feeling a bit more confident and excited for Testosterone but still dreading real life responsibilities like taxes and a dentist appointment next week.

I'm trying to unpack what happened to make me feel like that again...

I think really, it's fun to use labels online and feel like I'm a part of a community but in reality I don't want to transition. I want to just, be a girl and goddamnit be good at it. But I'm just not, wearing make up earnestly makes me feel gross, growing my hair out makes me feel gross.

I feel confident in my short hair (got a long overdue haircut yesterday and maaan the difference it's made), can't leave the house without a binder on and I'm still super self conscious about my wide hips and yet, I just can't really admit to myself I'm actually trans.

I'm afraid of being unlovable, afraid of the people I care about turning against me, afraid I still won't like myself. I have to be really serious about this to take myself seriously and risk the life I only just started building and I've never been serious about anything my whole life.

I'm like Macklemore in that one song where he's adding up the reasons he must not be gay, liking sport and whatever else it was but in my case it's the fact I bought a dress (I probably won't ever wear but it's a colour I like and style I love to draw) and I idolize women like Marilyn Monroe. I put beauty and hygiene on an ultra high pedestal (a flaw, I know, I'll work on it one day when I know how) and sometimes, like what I was just going through, I convince myself I just want to be trans because I know I can't be a conventionally attractive woman. I know that's all ridiculous but I never claimed to have a high IQ, I got just as much brainrot from the internet as everyone else.

In a way I wish I could go back to living in a vacuum like I did when I was a shut in but I know that would just set me back again. But man, having things to lose is scary.

I'm very attached to rural Australia and country life, I probably always will be. Maybe it's just because I'm stubborn but I don't want to go back to the city, I think living standards out here are just so much better, life is just enjoyable. People give shits about each other, I actually have human interactions when I decide to go out shopping. Probably most importantly it's still so un-corrupted by the internet out here, practically no one at work knows what 'cancelled' or 'woke' mean and I love that.

Also, there's so many more queer people out here than in Sydney? It feels like in the city people are trying so hard to conform where out here no one really cares.

Don't get me wrong, the bigots are plenty which is why I bring this up at all. I'm not really scared outside of places people know me though because there's plenty of masculine looking cishet women in rural Australia so I blend right in whether I pass or not. But yeah, finding out people I work with and like suddenly hate me is a horrifying prospect. Enough to make me think I probably won't come out until for whatever reason I switch jobs. Which I hope won't be for a while because I like my work and feel lucky I get to work there.

So yeah, that's where I'm at now if you were bothered to read that, I'm sorry.

I still identify as genderfluid, but in the end I know I have to change things about myself to love myself. I also know there's certain effects of T that would really help me purely from a health perspective, so trans or not I'm trying to get a prescription.