#vulnerable to the damage we're doing

[quixoticanarchy]

remembering my old geomorphology professor who specializes in glaciology and we asked him what it was like to focus most of his work on glaciers and watch them succumb to the warming climate in real time. I don't remember the details of his answer - something on the balance of grief and the importance of doing the work, of paying attention? the worthiness of knowledge even when it's grim? the need to know about such complex and long-lived and dynamic and beautiful things as glaciers before it's too late? I know he said scientists need to be communicators, to help educate and motivate and direct people's concerns, but the time for researching and talking is passing swiftly; he's done his part there and if there's anything to be done for the glaciers, it's not going to be through more of his research. though he'll keep researching all the same. but mostly I remember just how sad he looked, momentarily, before he tried to put together an answer

[topaziraphale]

dear god my last post is NOT getting the reception I thought it would butttt maybe that's on me I guess I didnt clarify a few things. and I messed up at the very end. oops. I'd be replying already if I didnt feel like I got run over by a truck for pulling an all nighter and then not napping🧍‍♂️

[toastsnaffler]

ughf. maybe I should just stay at home until the new year by this point.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (09/10)

The Consequences

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: things get complicated, you and Aemond's relationship ends and despite finding solutions, nothing can repair the damage to your ruined future.

word count: 8.3k

previous part • series masterlist

fortunately it didn't take me as long as last time and finally here it is hehe🙏😚

I really hope you like it a lot and remember that we're not far from the end, so I'm looking forward to your comments with your opinions. thank you very much for reading beautiful people!❤

You want to believe it's all a misunderstanding.

You couldn't sleep all night. Anxiety and worry consumed you like never before, waiting and checking your mail every moment hoping to see if anything would arrive, but nothing.

Your whole night was summed up in thinking about possible catastrophic scenarios, although they were not possible after all, since that is what is really going to happen because at this point there is nothing you can do because the college applications have already passed.

That's why you checked your email every moment, almost on the verge of tears, thinking about what the fuck you're going to do, how you're going to go to college and why Aemond didn't keep his end of the deal.

There was the urge to text him and even call him in all your desperation and confusion, ask him what happened, but you decided to wait until the next morning to ask him in person to get clear answers.

And that's what you're going to do now.

You don't even know if you are right but there is no other explanation when things are too clear. And you can't help but feel the pain of betrayal burning in your chest, with the anxiety consuming you and the need.

You finally arrive at the school, where without thinking of absolutely nothing, you start searching for Aemond through all the hallways, with determination and rage mixed inside you.

Your eyes frantically search through all the students as you walk quickly and make your way through them all, ignoring their stares at you as you don't care at the moment, you have a goal in mind.

And along with that goal and what you have to do now, still your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more painful and confusing than the last.

After all the moments you both spent together, both real and pretend, every laugh, every gesture, every kiss, it all seemed so real and so genuine.

But now… it all felt like a cruel illusion.

And to have to accompany it all with this, it's just unbelievable.

You finally see him in the distance, it's not hard to make out his distinctive silver hair, with his figure walking towards the doors leading to the huge backyard of the school, talking to some friends.

Anger and sadness intensify as you see him looking so calm, as if nothing is going on, made worse by the fact that he won't try to contact you either to let you know anything about the university, or even give you the news himself, anything.

You clench your fists and muster up all your courage before reaching for him, feeling completely hopeless.

“Aemond,” you call out to him, your voice tense and cutting.

He turns to you at the call of your voice, his expression changing from surprise to slight concern in an instant. His friends continue walking and he remains standing, as you walk towards him.

And you don't even give him time to speak, as you immediately raise your phone, showing him the college's Facebook ad on the screen.

“What is this?” you ask him, demanding explanations, confusion and pain reflecting in your eyes.

You feel your voice tremble, but you stand your ground, holding his gaze with a determination that belies your vulnerability.

He watches the screen and you see the worry spread further across his face, followed by a nervousness that runs through him from head to toe. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem caught in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a barely audible whisper, leaning toward you and with sorrow in his gaze, ”I-I didn't want you to find out like this.”

The knot in your stomach tightens even tighter as the worry and anxiety intensifies, watching him without understanding.

“And what does that mean?”

He looks to all sides, noticing the number of students surrounding you who begin to watch you both curiously, whispering amongst themselves.

“Come,” he says softly as he places a firm but careful hand on your shoulder and guides you into one of the empty classrooms, away from the stares.

You don't argue with him because you don't want to draw attention to yourself either, but as soon as he closes the door behind you, you feel the pressure in your chest intensify and you immediately turn to him, the need for answers burning inside you.

“You didn't talk to your grandsire or your sister?” you ask, your voice trembling between anger and the anxiety you're trying to contain.

He looks down for a moment, swallowing hard. His silence hangs heavy in the air before he looks up at you, his eyes showing a mixture of weariness and regret.

“Yes, with my grandsire,” he states to you, "But I'm still working on it," he confesses with his tone infused with a sincerity that hurts you more than you expected.

You feel your breath catch and you watch him in shock, with your lips parted and hopelessness all over your gaze, trying to process what he just said. The hopelessness is reflected in your gaze, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration that you struggle to hold back.

“What?” you manage to say, your voice cracking in disbelief.

He takes a step toward you, his eye fixed on yours as he tries to remain calm, though you can see the tension in the way his hands move, as if he's searching the air for the right words.

“Listen,” he begins, your tone softer and almost pleading, ”It's not entirely true that the whole admissions process is over. There are still… possibilities,” he says nervous, ”And I promise you that I've already sent all your documents to my grandsire. I just need a little more time to be able to convince him, and I will, I swear.”

He tries to convince you, observing you completely honest and sincere in what he is saying, but you no longer believe in him.

His words are like a desperate attempt to calm you down, to reassure you that everything will be okay. But distrust grows inside you with a sharp pain that spreads throughout your chest.

You watch him, looking for some sign to give you hope, some spark of certainty you can cling to. But all you see is uncertainty and nervousness, insecurity, because even he doesn't know if he will get you in.

You think about the announcement, how the university has already sent out all the emails, both acceptance and rejection. Then reality hits you like a slap in the face, and suddenly you understand.

“You… you got in?” you ask in a breathy whisper, though deep down you already know the answer.

He doesn't answer you right away, as instead of words, all you get is his look, a mixture of pity and embarrassment that only confirms it.

“Yes but you'll get in Y/N too,” he quickly insists, his voice desperate to convince you, ” You don't need to worry about anything.”

How easy it is to talk when he is the one who certainly should not worry about his future.

And finally the tears find their way, unable to control them any longer. You press your lips together tightly, trying to keep your composure, but the pain and frustration are too intense.

Aemond stirs restlessly, hating to see you cry. His hands tense, wanting to reach out and be able to hug you, but he restrains himself and watches you with concern.

“Y/N—

“ You don't even know if you'll be able to get me in too,” you interrupt him in a cold and distant voice, laden with bitterness with the feeling of betrayal and disappointment in your chest, “I trusted you, that's why I didn't apply to other colleges,” you look at him hurt and annoyed, “Now what am I supposed to do? The time for applications has already passed. I can't apply anywhere else because this, your promise, should have been settled long ago.”

Your words echo in the air, and the reality of the situation settles between the two of you like a barrier. He is affected by your words and falls silent, not knowing how to respond.

Worst of all, you know that he really wanted to help you, that his intentions were sincere, that's what you really want to think in the midst of all this.

But did he really want to help you in the first place?

If that was really his intention, then you wouldn't be in this position right now, in this situation that should never have been allowed. And you also remember Floris.

The tension is palpable and you feel the lump in your throat tighten even more and you look at him with pain.

“You used me,” you say with your voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his gaze full of despair.

“No, it wasn't like that,” he tries to correct with his pleading tone as he takes a step closer to you, “That was never my intention Y/N, you know that.”

You pull away from him, increasing the distance between the two of you, tears gathering more in your eyes and this time you make no effort to hold them back.

“I know because of what happened with Floris,” you say bitterly, ”And the worst thing is that I did like you.”

Your words leave him speechless for a moment, his expression marked by a mixture of regret and pain. He reaches out a hand toward you, as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you abruptly pull away.

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“There's nothing to explain,” you cut him off, unable to bear to listen to him any longer.

You feel something inside you crack and he seems to notice your change, to which he doesn't know what to do.

He tells you something else but you no longer listen. The broken promises, the destroyed trust, it all piles up on your shoulders, making you feel smaller and lonelier than you ever felt before.

The pain on his face is evident and when you finally decide to walk away, Aemond tries to stop you, tries to remedy the situation, but you don't even hear him anymore, you don't even see him, it's as if he is suddenly invisible and you leave him behind with pain and bitterness branded on your chest.

All because you realize that he, his promises, his words, were never worth it. And now you're paying the consequences of your future ruined by an absurd contract you should never have accepted in the first place.

You feel as if the world has fallen on top of you.

All the way home, you feel a mixture of intense emotions overflowing and the only way you can get them off your chest is to cry.

You are thankful that your father is still at work or else you would have had no idea how to explain your visibly pitiful state to him. Besides you don't even have the courage to really tell him what's going on.

But all is probably not lost.

Anxiety, despair and frustration wash over you as you sit in front of your laptop. But it also invades you and you cling to hope. You want, desire and yearn to find a solution, one last chance to not lose an academic year, so you open the browser.

Your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, as you search the admissions pages of other universities.

You visit one after another, hoping to find one that is still accepting applications, one that might have a deadline extension. But as you read and watch, that hope fades.

The words ‘admission perido has ended’ are repeated over and over again on every page you visit.

You try a small college in another city, then the only two available in your own city, but in all the answers are the same. Time has run out. The deadline has passed and there is no way to reverse it.

Frustrated, you hold your hands to your head, feeling the despair and anxiety growing inside you. And unable to help it, tears well up in your eyes and finally the situation crushes you.

With a loud sob escaping your lips, you collapse in your chair, feeling completely helpless, hopeless and like a fool.

You don't understand how you couldn't take precautions, have a backup plan B in case Aemond's plan failed, apply to even the city's public university, but none of that crossed your mind at all.

How are you going to explain this to your father? That you didn't apply to other colleges because you trusted a guy's word to get into Citadel in exchange for making his ex-girlfriend jealous?

Even the situation, thinking about what you were doing all that time instead of applying to other colleges makes you frustrated and angry at yourself for being such a fool.

And yet, you still hold on.

The next morning, your spirits still low, you head to the office of the school's coordinator, Mrs. Turner, with this last spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to resolve this with her help.

Mrs. Turner greets you with a friendly smile, though her face reflects some concern when she sees the expression on your face clearly tired from lack of sleep and swollen from all the crying you've done.

“Miss Y/N, what's wrong? Is everything all right?” he asks you, inviting you to sit down.

You waste no time and explain the situation to her. You decide to omit certain details, especially everything to do with Aemond and his promise. Instead, you opt to say that, due to a family problem, you missed the date for applying to colleges.

“Well, I understand that some universities do a second round of application, but you're mostly private universities in the city.”

“Only private here in the city?” you ask nervously and with a slight illusion.

“Yes,” he nods at you, “Maybe you could make an application for a scholarship.”

You bite your lip, feeling the frustration begin to take hold of you again and the illusion disappears.

You know that, while a scholarship might help you cover some of the costs, it won't be enough. You will only be offered a partial scholarship, and even then, the costs of a private university would be unaffordable for you and your father.

With the scholarship you had applied for at Citadel, you would have had most of your expenses covered, as long as you maintained a good grade point average. But you were rejected.

“No, I-I… I can't afford private college,” you admit as you look at her in desperation, ”Are you sure there's nothing you can do at the public university? Maybe send in a special request or something?”

She looks at you with some pity and disappointment.

“I'm sorry Y/N, but I'm afraid that's not the way things work,” she tells you in a soft voice, “Unfortunately, at most universities, once the admissions deadlines have closed, there's nothing we can do.”

You're not even surprised because you were definitely expecting something like this. Nor do you feel anything, just…emptiness and bitterness.

Mrs. Turner maintains her compassionate look as she continues to speak, trying to soften the impact of the situation on you.

“Y/N, I know this may seem discouraging, but I want you to know that all is not lost. Losing a year before entering college is not the end of the world,” she says in a reassuring tone, ”You can use this time to get a job, gain experience, and prepare an even stronger application for the next cycle. There's no rush, and many people find that taking a year off allows them to better focus on what they really want.”

But you know what you really want.

You want to study law, have a professional career, graduate and work at something you really like where you earn enough money to help your dad, give him a better life. That's what you want.

But you ruined it all by agreeing to a dumb contract, by believing his words and by not backing yourself.

You know her words are meant to calm you down, to offer you a positive outlook in the midst of the storm of emotions flooding through you. But, at this moment, these words offer you no comfort.

All you can think about is how your plan, your future, has crumbled in front of you.

You nod slowly, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for his attempt to help you. But inside, you feel misunderstood. You know Mrs. Turner only wants to help you, but the despair and fear of the future you now face keep you from seeing the bright side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” you say with an effort to keep your voice steady, ”I appreciate your advice.”

She gives you a warm, though still concerned, smile as you rise from your chair.

“If you need to talk more, or if there's anything I can help you with, feel free to come see me, okay?”

You nod once more, thanking her for her kindness and time before leaving the office.

Once outside, the hustle and bustle of students filling the halls of the school envelop you and you quickly make your way to your locker.

You open the door with automatic movements, barely aware of what you are doing as your thoughts invade you. With trembling hands, you put away the books and notebooks you won't need for the next few classes.

As you go through the motions, the pain and frustration begin to build. And when you least expect it, tears begin to slide down your cheeks silently.

You try to control yourself, pursing your lips and wiping your cheeks, but your emotions are too intense to be repressed. When suddenly, laughter reaches your ears.

You watch out of the corner of your eye and see Alys and her friends walking almost in front of you with mocking voices and laughter, full of undisguised contempt.

You have an idea what specifically amuses them about you, you know they must have sent you that picture of Aemond and Floris, but you also feel their laughter as a cruel mockery of your already desperate situation.

Still you can't help but feel embarrassed and angrily wipe away your tears with a sharp gesture.

Rage runs through your whole body, for everything. And your tears, though stopped for the moment, still threaten to return. You hurry to put everything away and slam the door shut to finally walk away.

You walk quickly down the hallway, wanting to get away from all the people, when as you turn down a corridor, you come face to face with Aemond, Aegon and his friends.

The impact is almost physical, but both you and they stop abruptly to avoid the blow. And as soon as you realize who you have in front of you, you freeze for an instant.

Just when your day couldn't get any worse.

Aemond, with his silver hair and imposing figure, is the first to notice you. His expression instantly changes from surprise to concern as he sees the traces of tears on your face.

And although he doesn't say anything right away, his gaze is intense, full of worry and guilt.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, because both you and he have no idea what to do, what to say or how to react. But you, feeling the pressure of the stares, feel trapped and instantly have the urge to walk away.

But first, Aemond takes a step towards you, trying to close the distance between the two of you and your eyes meet his, charged with a mixture of desperation and hope.

“Y/N,” he calls your name.

And before he can say anything else, you don't let him and quickly move away.

Desperation drives you to dodge him, also the fact that you can't stand to be in his presence, which you do but Aemond reacts immediately and follows you.

He calls your name with an urgency that makes his voice echo down the hallway, leaving his brother and his friends behind.

“Y/N, please stop, he needed to talk to you,” he urges you.

His hand reaches out to yours in an attempt to stop you but you continue walking quickly.

Maybe it's the look you both have or it's the unusual attitude you're both having around each other that starts to get people's attention. But you don't care since all you want at that precise moment is to get away from him.

“Please, Y/N.”

And then his hand takes yours, stopping you and you turn to him, your face flushed with tears and anger inside you.

“Let go of me,” you tell him in warning in a cold, cutting voice, ”I won't tell you again.”

The scene definitely draws more attention and some students begin to murmur and watch you both very intently, but the whole whirlwind of emotions makes you lose sight of the awkwardness of the situation.

You really don't want to deal with Aemond right now. In fact you don't even want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And Aemond seeing that, your attitude and coldness, the fact that you can't even stand to see him and the fact that you are being terribly honest, hurts him, really hurts him with a sharp pain in his chest, but he insists.

“Please, just for a few minutes. I need to explain—

Completely losing patience, showing the intensity of your pain and frustration, you release yourself from his grip in a sudden movement that draws more attention from the students and the situation becomes an unwanted show.

“Leave me alone,” you warn him through your teeth before turning and walking away with quick steps.

And thankfully he doesn't try to stop you again.

Everyone is looking at you and everyone is looking at Aemond as well, but you quickly find refuge away from all the stares, taking no notice.

However, you should have expected that little show to go around like plague throughout the school accompanied with the new rumor that Aemond Targaryen and his previously invisible girlfriend have broken up.

And honestly… you didn't even care.

To this point, technically he and you have ended whatever the two of you had, so you don't care to either affirm or deny it, you just don't make a big deal out of it and let people believe what they want.

Besides, how could you care when there are certainly more important things like thinking about your now ruined future?

News you have the confidence to share with Alysanne after all the drama involving you and Aemond, since you two are all anyone talks about in the entire school.

“That fucking idiot,” Alysanne mutters in disbelief, "Just when I thought what he did with Floris was so low but this… I mean, are you kidding me?" she stares at Cregan, incredulous, ”This is so much worse.”

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your forehead as you close your eyes and simply let your body try to relax. It's uncomfortable because of the hard metal beneath you as you lie on the bleachers but you still try.

“But he said he would try to fix it, didn't he?” asks Cregan in a cautious tone.

“And you believe him?” reproaches Alysanne incredulously, "I wouldn't and Y/N shouldn't either," she observes you, ”He had all this time to do something about it, even to be honest with you and tell you ahead of time that he wasn't going to succeed in helping you. Then you would have had a chance to apply to other colleges but no, he preferred to stay silent and enjoy the acting and all that it provoked in his stupid ex-girlfriends.”

And put like that… everything that happened sounds so much worse.

But you know she's right.

While the whole school is whispering about your ‘breakup’ with him, you can't help but feel that there are much more important things at stake, things that Aemond never understood or tried to understand.

And Alysanne seeing your expression and you basically not reacting because you're thinking about the future and how incredibly fucked up you must feel, lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you.

“I know it's a stupid question but are you okay?” she asks you in a warm and concerned tone.

You let out a sigh and take a moment before answering, not watching them and not taking your hand off your forehead.

“I don't know what to do,” you say in a low, emotionless tone.

Alysanne grimaces and looks at Cregan who also returns the same expression; they don't know what to do to make you feel better and relieve that huge weight you're carrying.

College is a big deal, both of them would also feel the same way if they were in your place, that's a fact. But by the same token they are not in your situation, they don't know what to do to cheer you up because, what could they possibly do to even help you? Nothing.

“I'm just thinking about how I'm going to tell my dad.”

You confess finally, withdrawing your hand from your forehead and fixing your eyes on the gray sky above you.

“I'll have to lie to him, tell him I applied but all the colleges rejected me,” you say regretfully, “Now I'm just left to look for a job and do that until I can apply next year.”

Alysanne and Cregan exchange a look.

“It's not a bad plan,” she tells you, trying to cheer you up, “In fact, a lot of people of our age don't go to college after graduation and do exactly that, get a job and apply until the next year or until they're sure of what they want to study.”

“Yeah,” Cregan agrees, "Besides, my family has several businesses in town, I could help you get a job at one of them.”

You can't help but place a small smile on your lips, seeing the willingness of both of them in wanting to support you, however, they can see the sadness all over your face and the discouragement you feel.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it,” you say genuinely, "And I know it's not a bad plan but…" you sigh, feeling the frustration and sadness swirl in your chest, ”I know my dad, and I know that, when I tell him that I wasn't accepted, he'll be supportive… but I also know that he'll be very disappointed.”

That's what weighs on you the most, far more than anything else, going over the whole Aemond thing and also over you, your dad.

He has sacrificed so much for you, working long hours at a job that doesn't give him what he truly deserves. He earns enough to support you and the house, he has always made sure you both have what you need; food on the table, clothes and basic comforts.

But he never buys anything for himself and his own dreams have always taken a back seat. All so he can give you a chance to do something else, have a better life and now…you feel like you've failed him.

Cregan and Alysanne watch you silently, their faces reflecting the gravity of your words. They know there is nothing they can say that will truly ease your pain, but you know they are both here, offering you their support.

“Well, I don't know your dad but still, he's your dad and he loves you,” Alysanne tells you in a warm tone, ”He knows you better than anyone and I'm sure all he'll want is for you to be okay.”

“And I'm sure he's seen how you've tried your best and you can't take the blame for something that was out of your hands.”

You understand what they both mean and you also ponder your dad's attitude in your mind briefly, but still, you can't help but place a small bitter smile.

“Actually it was my fault because it was my decision to trust Aemond, instead of making sure I had other options to prevent exactly this,” you say without emotion, “And I also feel that… not only it hurts me to have to tell my dad, but also to feel this disappointment,” you explain, “I really believed that I would go to Citadel and that my life was going to follow that path I had planned for a long time. But now… I feel like that dream has been taken away from me again.”

Alysanne looks at you sadly, understanding the weight of your words and she along with Cregan, no longer have any idea what to say to you. And you notice this, so you watch both of them trying to keep a genuine smile on your lips.

“You know? I really appreciate you both being here for me… I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you guys to talk to,” you tell them sincerely, ”But I think it needed some time alone.”

Alysanne looks at you uncertainly.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind, I can skip the next class to stay with you.”

“No, no, don't worry,” you hasten to say.

“I can stay too,” Cregan adds, shrugging.

“No guys, I don't want you to miss class for me, really,” you look at them sincerely, "I'll be fine, I just…" you let out a sigh, ”I need time alone.”

They both exchange a look and Cregan is the one who stands up first, stretching his arms out before looking at you with a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Fine but if you need anything, tell us,” he tells you with a soft voice and a warm gaze.

You nod in his direction.

“Yes, thank you,” you reply as you return a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Alysanne lingers a little longer, watching you with the same intensity as always, as if she wants to make sure you really will be okay before she leaves.

“I'll keep an eye out on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you tell her, feeling that simple gesture of support fill you with a strange mixture of relief and sadness.

She nods, smiling a little before walking away along with Cregan, leaving you alone on the bleachers.

And you stand there, thinking about everything and yet nothing, where you allow yourself to let out a long, heavy sigh. You look up at the sky, allowing thoughts to flow unrestricted.

The faint sounds around you envelop you, such as the soccer team boys training on the field and the entire cheerleading squad, as well as the faint, comforting sound of the leaves moving from the big trees along with the birds singing.

And even though you don't want to feel bad, the pain, the disappointment and the uncertainty about what will come next, it all hits you again in an unavoidable way.

And it all blends together in an emotional whirlwind that leaves you exhausted.

Time seems to stand still as you stand there, lost in thought. And you barely notice when someone approaches, as the sound of approaching footsteps barely registers in your consciousness.

And because you are absorbed in your thoughts, you only come out of your trance the moment a soft voice right next to you breaks the silence in your space.

“Hi Y/N.”

You raise your head almost immediately, definitely not expecting that and suddenly you see Floris standing next to you, watching you with a mixture of insecurity and regret.

You frown and look at her confused, not bothering to hide it, truly not understanding what she's doing here, talking to you.

And receiving no response from you, she looks down uncomfortably for a moment, fiddling with her hands as if searching for the right words before speaking.

And this is the first time you see her like this. You don't spend your time watching and analyzing her either but normally she always comes across as confident and sure of her whole persona, but now… you've never seen her so nervous.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now…” she admits with her voice barely a whisper, sitting down next to you on the bleacher, though she keeps an appropriate distance, ”But I really want to talk to you.”

'Talk?'

You repeat in your mind, still watching her without understanding and unable to help but feel a pang of bitterness at the memory of all that has happened.

The truth is you don't want to talk, you already feel frustrated and tired enough without now having to deal with this and especially with her.

But for some strange reason, you don't say anything, you just watch her, waiting, keeping calm, waiting for her to continue. She seems to hesitate for a moment, but then takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the horizon.

“I-I… after what happened in Dragonstone…” she begins to speak cautiously, ”Aemond decided to cut off all communication with me.”

That nonconformity and that little ache in your chest comes up as you hear her name and you too look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“He told me that what happened between us was a mistake and that you never deserved that,” she continues in a soft tone, ”I don't know if that gives you any kind of comfort, but I thought you should know.”

'Comfort?'

You don't know whether to laugh or cry but it's clear that none of this brings you comfort.

And she seems to be struggling with her own emotions, as you see out of the corner of your eye how her hands clench in her lap as if she's trying to control the trembling in them.

“And I'm not telling you this to justify myself, I know what happened at that party was a mistake,” she says emphatically, ”I shouldn't have gotten involved, let alone knowing that you were his girlfriend. That was…” she pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh, ”That was a big mistake on my part. I should have walked away from him the moment I met you, given you your place and respected you, but… I didn't.”

Her words fall heavy in the air and although part of you wants to lash out at her, another part of you feels so drained that you can't even find the energy to argue. Besides it's not just her… it's also Aemond.

“I was the one who was all the time looking for his attention at that party, you know? I was the one who had the intention of kissing him all that time, “she confesses, visibly embarrassed, ”I-I… I don't know, I felt so jealous when I came back and saw him with you. I-I guess I… still had feelings for him.”

You let out a long breath and finally speak bitterly.

“If he was the one who sent you to tell me all this to justify what he did and expect me to forgive him, it's not going to work Floris,” you warn her.

She shakes her head instantly, her eyes full of urgency.

“No, no,” she tells you immediately, ”He didn't send me to tell you anything, he doesn't even talk to me and barely notices me when we're in the same place. There's nothing really between us anymore Y/N,” she insists, ”It all ended when I left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say or what to really think, also not having the slightest idea what to do.

Even if all of this were true, everything she's telling you, you don't care anymore. All of this just comes with the part where Aemond didn't deliver what he promised you. All of this is just more accompanying pain, but what does it really matter?

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” she murmurs in your direction after you say nothing, “I know my words won't change anything and I'm not expecting you to forgive me… but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry.”

You remain silent, jaw clenched and gaze lowered, with the silence still heavy, dense.

Her words echo in your mind, mingling with everything else you've been carrying. But what are you supposed to feel? Relief? More pain? Or both? You don't know.

And resigned to the fact that she won't find some kind of reaction from you nor will you say anything to her, she lets out a last sigh, accepting your indifference without a problem.

“And I also wanted to tell you that…I know that Alys and her friends were the ones who sent you that picture,” she confesses to you and you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, ”And you don't have to worry about them spreading it all over school. I made sure that doesn't happen.”

The lump in your throat tightens. Though his words seek to offer you some sort of comfort, they do not soothe the wound that has already been inflicted. It doesn't change what happened, nor does it erase the humiliation you felt.

But even so, there is something in her tone, in the sincerity with which she speaks to you, that disarms you a little, if only for an instant.

Finally she stands up, feeling that there is nothing more to say. She throws you one last look, full of regret, before turning and starting to walk away.

And you don't stop her, as you have nothing to say, when suddenly, she stops after only a few steps and this catches your attention, so you look at her in confusion.

Floris, still with her back to you, seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether or not to say what has been on her mind. When finally, he turns to you again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you didn't expect.

“He really loves you, you know? Aemond.”

For the first time in the entire conversation you hold her gaze.

The sincerity in her eyes strikes you, but it's hard to believe those words after everything that's happened.

“When I came back from the exchange, something changed in him towards me. I don't know, he didn't see me the same way anymore,” she explains, "At first I didn't understand why, but when I met you, I knew," she confesses.

She pauses and seems to hesitate, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“The kiss…that kiss meant nothing to him, I know,” she finally confesses. “I saw him at Dragonstone, I saw how he looked at you… completely in love with you.”

You press your lips together and stare at a specific point, remembering those moments.

“And I also saw you completely in love with him too,” she admits in a soft voice, “I saw how you looked at him, with the same intensity with which he looked at you. And honestly… the two of you looked very happy together.”

This makes you feel exposed in a way you didn't expect, stirring a little in your seat, not knowing how to react.

The images of you and Aemond at Dragonstone, the times you spent together on the yacht, the hot tub, on the beach, in the castle and at the aquarium, when everything was fine and neither of you were faking it and it looked like everything was going to be just fine, all flashes through your mind.

“I saw all that, Y/N,” Floris continues, looking down in shame. “And that's why I accepted his decision to walk away from me. Because even though I didn't want to accept it at the time, I knew that what he felt for you was real. And what you felt for him was too.”

For a moment, you stare at her, not knowing how to respond or what to do, since you didn't expect to hear this either.

And you honestly can't deny the honesty in her words and in that it's probably true what she's saying, but you also can't ignore the pain that still burns inside you.

And so you simply nod slightly, as if you are accepting her confession even though you don't know what to do with it.

Floris looks at you one last time before turning completely around and continuing on her way, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the emotions you've been trying to contain.

You feel a surge of sadness mixed with a strange calm, as if there is nothing left to give. Everything that has happened between you, Aemond and Floris is still a complicated knot to untangle.

Now the silence that follows is heavy, but somehow, it also seems liberating.

Aemond POV.

With a folder in hand containing all the documents he needs and a determination all over his mind and posture, he barely observes all the people around him as he walks quickly through the hallways of the building, heading towards a specific office.

When he reaches the corresponding hallway, he slows his pace, cautiously observing his surroundings, making sure his grandsire is not nearby.

After so long keeping him waiting in the hope that he would do him the favor despite having already told him it would not be possible, he must have known that he will never really help him after all the favors he has done for him.

And that is precisely why Aemond has resorted to such measures.

But if his grandsire sees him here, he will immediately know what he wants to do and will not hesitate to kick him out of the building. That's why he has to be quick as the guards have seen him come in and so have all the people who work here.

And it's hard to go unnoticed when you have silver hair, which implies either that you work here or that you are the son, brother or nephew of the people who run the company.

So he quickly makes his way to the office, where he doesn't even knock on the door before entering, just walks in quickly to avoid being seen.

“Aemond?”

He looks at his sister and lets out a long breath watching her wearily, to walk over and take a seat in front of her.

“I'm sorry, my grandsire can't know I'm here or he'll kick me out,” he explains.

“Why? What happened?” she asks genuinely concerned, stopping what she was doing on her computer.

“Nothing, it's just…” he pauses as she brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration, ”I need you to do me a favor, Nyra. A big one.”

This gets her full attention and she nods slowly in his direction.

“What do you need?” she says to him with all disposition, watching him intently.

Your face, your words, all the moments that happened, whether good or bad, but most of all your hurt and broken face, the disappointment and how terribly sad you must have felt.

All of that is Aemond's drive to finally make things right and the things he should have done in the first place.

But it is not only that, it is also the fact that you no longer want to have anything to do with him, that you no longer want to be in the same place with him, that you can't stand his presence and that you don't answer any of his messages or calls, wanting to stop having any kind of contact with him.

All of that lets him know exactly how you felt about Floris and also about the fact that he didn't keep his promise.

And now he is willing to do anything, absolutely anything to be able to keep what he promised you. It doesn't matter if you still don't want to have anything to do with him, all he wants is for you to go to the college of your dreams.

But Rhaenyra's face after explaining and asking him for the favor, is exactly what he expected but he will still keep trying.

“You know I can't do something like that, Aemond.”

“You just don't have to say anything to him Rhae, please.”

She shakes her head.

“That's only worse. You know how hard it was for me to get him to agree to let me work here since dad died and I still have to put up with his bad treatment—

“Oh please, we all know it's only a matter of time before you and Daemon also get to run this company in addition to Driftmark and Harrenhal,” he interrupts her seriously, “You'll take my grandsire's job and send him to run only the Oldtown company.”

Rhaenyra remains serious for a moment, pursing her lips.

“It's the right thing to do and you know it. My father left this to me, to us,” she clarifies truthfully, ”And your grandfather took advantage to take it all and leave almost nothing to me.”

He lets out a long breath, bringing a hand to his chin.

“When you've finished your degree, you'll run Oldtown and if you want, we can spread out more locations,” she tells him in a soft tone, “Helaena can also run Highgarden and Aegon and Daeron can also help us if that's what they really want. That's what father wanted and I never once intended to take that away from you, your legacy, as your grandsire told you I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he tells her in a soft, sincere tone, understanding what she means.

The fight over the inheritance was always in the family ever since their father became ill. He never showed them love or even that he cared even a little for them, but at least he intended to leave them a large part of his legacy.

Neither he nor his siblings fought with Rhaenyra and Daemon for it, it was only their grandsire, who from the time they were all children put hatred towards them to her.

But eventually, both he and his siblings realized that Rhaenyra had other intentions and everything grandsire said was a lie. Rhaenyra didn't want to steal their legacy, she never did.

And now… they have all developed a strange but pleasant relationship with her. He more than anything has developed a respect, even an affection, for his older sister, because she wasn't the villain they had always been led to believe.

“Our arrangement with Citadel University was made precisely from the company in Oldtown, a company he will run until you have graduated,” she continues, “And if he already refused once to help you with that and finds out that I did, this strange peace I have managed to keep will be over.”

And the worst part is that she's right.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of those words.

If his grandsire finds out that she helped him behind his back, all the progress they've made to maintain family stability will shatter, destroying any chance of avoiding another conflict. And all because of a girl only he knows.

If it were a nephew, cousin or someone closer to the family nucleus, everything would be different. Nepotism is a common currency among wealthy and powerful families, like his, but in your case, you are a complete stranger.

That is precisely the reason why his grandsire refused to offer help him.

And now, Aemond is caught between the desire to repair the damage he caused in you and the fear that his insistence will cause an even greater rift in the family.

“Then I'll do it,” he says with conviction, sure of his words and Rhae looks at him surprised and confused, “Just tell me how I can get her into college. You don't have to get involved, I'll take it all on myself. I'll say I asked you for help and you refused. If anything goes wrong, it will be my responsibility.”

Rhaenyra lets out a long, deep sigh.

“Aemond—

She begins softly, but he interrupts her before she can say more.

“She deserves this,” he says, his voice lower but laden with sincerity. “It wasn't her fault. She did a favor for me on the condition that I would do this one for her. Besides, I've done a lot of things for my grandfather and the company, especially this company, so please Rhae, I really want to do this.”

Rhaenyra watches him for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in his.

The intensity in Aemond's gaze does not waver, for he is willing to take the consequences, to stand up to even his grandsire, if it means giving you a chance to repair the damage he himself caused.

“Even if I have to give up my own place to give it to her, I don't care, I'll do it.”

Rhaenyra blinks slowly, her mind struggling between logic and the desire to help him. Aemond rarely shows regret, and seeing him so willing to sacrifice himself for someone surprises her and reaches her deeply.

And finally, after what seems like an eternity, she sighs.

“What you're asking is a huge risk,” she admits, looking at him with a mixture of seriousness and empathy.

He holds his breath, his body rigid, as she seems to debate internally and he waits for a decision. And then, she turns to her computer, beginning to type, letting out a long breath.

“But don't be silly, I want you to study at Citadel too.”

The relief Aemond feels is almost palpable. A mixture of gratitude and hope takes hold of him, and his shoulders seem to relax for the first time since he entered the office.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Truly.”

“Just let me make a phone call and I also need her docu—

She doesn't finish saying the word as he, with a quickness that reflects his urgency, drops the folder with all the necessary papers in front of her on her desk.

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, looking at the folder with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Sure,” she murmurs and opens the folder, letting out a small laugh, beginning to flip through the documents, making sure everything is in order "Well, this folder is quite complete and the grades are excellent,” she says in acknowledgement, "That's good because it will help us speed up the process."

Aemond allows himself to let out a sigh of relief, watching as Rhaenyra steps in to help him with this favor. And as she begins to make calls and coordinate the necessary details, he remains attentive throughout, beginning to feel more relieved than ever.

He knows this won't exactly make you forgive him, but at the very least, he's fixing the damage he's done to you so he can give you the opportunity you deserve.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @saturnssrings @queen-of-elves

[potat0bag]

hey splatheads, your favourite deep cut archivist is back with some horrifying implications to shove directly in your faces.

don't know how many people are aware, but the splatlands is canonically flood-prone, as informed to us through one of the dialogues when Undertow Spillway is in rotation:

cool stuff! with that in mind, let's jump to the past real quick. okay, so we're all pretty familiar with Sunken Scroll 2 (Splatoon 3), seen below. detailing an extreme flood that ravaged the splatlands years ago.

"Long ago, our splatted lands were almost washed away by a great flood. All was presumed lost... until three lights appeared and united to consume the disaster. Thankful for their salvation, the townsfolk threw a festival with three portable shrines as a tribute." If we look closely, the area depicted in the flood is the Crater, as we can tell from the upturned "eiffel tower". Why do I bring up these two tidbits? Well, from the 2nd Big Run, located at Undertow Spillway, there was Splatcast dialogue (when you load up the game during the Big Run) detailing how the floodgates that keep Splatsville unflooded are currently (or at least, at the time were) broken. This is how Undertow Spillway was vulnerable to being flooded itself in the first place, and means that if Splatsville WERE to flood, there'd be no surefire way to drain the water - and Splatsville would likely suffer irreparable damage.

With the latest September 2024 Big Run (some of us are calling it Grand Run, I love that), the Salmonids' target is the Grand Splatlands Bowl, located in the Crater.

Alarm bells should be ringing, as this is the 2nd time the Crater is being devastated by flooding. The clans are still in practice, and the three lights were referenced to be the cause of Hugefry in the climax of Return of the Mammalians, so we're definitely not going to see long-term consequences from this that won't be prevented from the Grand Festival uniting three groups itself.

Still, considering how close Splatsville and the Crater are- the implications are rather ominous. And I'm sure everyone - young and old - in Splatsville is probably feeling it too.

[spaceysoupy]

So apparently it’s that time of year again where I have to post about this.

On lesbianism, white queerness, and 2S identity

Text below readmore

I am a two-spirit. My identity is specific to my Tribe and Clan, and even more specific to my family. I am not a man, I am not a woman, and I am not nonbinary; I am not defined by what I am not.

I am a two-spirit and I am a lesbian. That's not debatable.

But I am not a non-man.

There's an idea of two-spirits that we are just the ethnic version of non-binary

We're not. The reason you're so comfortable calling us nonbinary is because your idea of queerness is centered around the binary&what you are not: you're not cishet, you're not the oppressor, etc

White queers like to speak about 2S identities constantly as if we are monolith. "It's just a gender" "it's not a gender"

"they're not trans" "they're not queer" "they don't belong here"

The community tries to decide for the individual and that's so weird to me.

So much of white queerness is inherently about exclusion.

You need strict labels to exclude the people you fear. You write your definitions around your fear of intruders and by consequence you exclude the people that need your support the most.

You need people to "prove" they are queer before you let them in. You're like a fortress and you let vulnerable people drown in the moat; ignoring that the real oppressors don't need to be a Trojan horse to do damage, ignoring they are actively burning down the castle.

It's very sad to me, because it's ultimately tearing the community apart even further.

I've never felt very welcome in white lesbian circles and they've never understood my experience of gender, but it's gotten worse in the past 5 or so years.

As TERFs start to revive gold star lesbianism and center hatred of men as their definition of lesbianism, you start to get these younger lesbians that don't know history that start to parrot the rhetoric. First it's "non-men loving non-men" then it's "you're too close to Man™"

For many two-spirit lesbians like myself, this is very concerning. White lesbians are historically not the ones targeted by radfems.

Now we've gotten to the point that there are people denying that lesbian is an spec (multispec) identity while including (white) nonbinary people

White nonbinary people (usually AFAB nonbinary people) are seen as woman lite and are welcome in white lesbian spaces while queer Indigenous people are considered dangerous because white lesbians can't understand their gender.

When did understanding become a requirement?

We're getting very dangerously close to "lesbianism is ONLY attraction to women" and very close to "lesbianism is only attraction to *a very specific type of (white) woman*" and I really need young white lesbians to read about political lesbianism so they can see this

I don't want to hear "not all lesbians" or "well then they aren't welcome" because every time this rhetoric goes unchallenged you are actively welcoming these people to continue it and make it more and more extreme. Yes, even the kind that seems to have nothing to do with racism

Almost all of your exclusionary rhetoric is based on the racist ideas of political lesbianism and I do not know why you all cannot see that they want to move goalposts. It wasn't just bi lesbians, it wasn't just he/him lesbians, it wasn't just nonbinary lesbians. It's a tactic.

It really feels like young lesbians are not only letting us go backwards, but encouraging it. And that's thanks in part to the historical racism of political lesbianism, but many of these people ARE old enough to think critically and talk to people who've been through this.

So far I've seen this in younger lesbian spaces; the ones with older generations (the ones that don't welcome TERFs) have been pretty welcoming even if not totally understanding, because they at least recognize that you don't need to understand someone's experience to validate it.

But I'm really concerned for the young Indigenous lesbians who don't feel comfortable around older people and are going to these younger lesbian spaces only to be indoctrinated with thinly veiled TERF rhetoric. It makes me very concerned for our spaces as well.

So I'll say again

I am not a non-man and I am not a non-woman. I'm not defined by what I am not. I do not ascribe to your binary-centric definitions of queerness. I experience queer attraction to women. I'm a lesbian. You do not get to use community to decide my individuality.

Thread by ~Alitsanosga

Pronouns: hi'a/vsgina/utseli/uwasa

[furiousgoldfish]

When people hear stories about abuse, they often get fascinated and interested in the abuser, and the 'mystery' behind their behaviour. They'll want to analyze what happened to this person to make them act in such twisted and sadistic ways, and they want to find the past event or past abuse that would 'explain it all'. Abusers will also, very happily recount the past abuse whenever it's time to explain away their behaviour, so nobody could hold them accountable, because after all, they had had it rough! Of course they're now abusive, it's only natural.

Fascination with explaining away abuser's behaviour often leaves victim's situation forgotten and ignored. Victims are supposed to just 'get over it', not be so sensitive, and be careful to not turn into abusers themselves, because after all, being abused means you become an abuser, according to the abuser. Except it doesn't, and victims often don't end up abusing anyone else, especially not in the horrific ways they themselves have been abused. So we're having two opposing stories: one is told by the abuser, and it's easy, simple, explains everything away, and it says, abuse causes future abusers, I am the proof, I was abused and now I am like this. Victim's story goes: I was abused, and now I struggle to function, I have cptsd, I have flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety, eating disorder. I struggle with suicidal feelings and wishing I didn't exist. I feel like I'm not important at all in this world and like I have no community, no family, no home. Failure of everyone to help me while I was being abused caused me to feel like an outcast from society, someone who isn't a part of it, who doesn't matter. I would never do this to another person, I feel like a part of me was torn away into pieces and I struggle to put myself back together.

Now that story is complex, it implicates the society in failing to stop the abuse and making the victim's life worse, it showcases the actual consequences of abuse, which are not 'becoming evil', but feeling ultimately traumatized and damaged, struggling to find joy and happiness in life in the aftermath. Society doesn't want to hear that; it makes abuse into a problem that should collectively be dealt with, rather than pushing it all onto individuals who find themselves trapped in it and suffering. It's much easier to pretend that abuse just makes someone abusive, and for people who are abusive, we need to feel sorry for, because they were 'made to be like this', and for those abused, we just need to shame them and control them so they don't become abusive themselves.

There are abusers who have lived privileged lives, there are abusers who have been spoiled and rewarded for their acts of abuse. Most abusers don't show the symptoms of trauma nearly as bad as the victims of abuse do, they're most often just having the symptoms of 'I lash out my anger on those who cannot defend themselves' and 'everyone needs to feel sorry for me because I am having the roughest time on the planet'. Weird how the victims almost never develop these two symptoms! Victims will go and compare their situation to everyone who has it worse, and will struggle to express or direct anger at anything. 

So what is the actual source of abuse, if not past trauma? There's no study or statistics that can tell us that for sure, and abusers are careful to maintain their story and are not interested in being studied past what makes people feel bad for them. I would guess that it's a mix of entitlement, being in a position of power over someone vulnerable, never having to develop empathy or compassion, being rewarded continuously for acts of abuse, and social influence (admiring other abusers and wanting the power they have). A lot of social structures support and enable abuse of those who are at the very bottom of it, with very few protections against it. A lot of people believe it's their right to abuse someone if they have the power over that person, and gain power specifically for that cause. Abusers will have children and believe this is their property and they can do whatever they please with it, abuse being a part of it.

If we don't know where abuse comes from, how do we combat it? I don't believe in feeling sorry for the abusers or giving them endless attention, chances, excuses and rationalizations; instead I believe we should stand firm on the fact that abuse is inexcusable, and will have consequences, regardless of how it came into their behaviour. If abuse always had consequences, regardless of the history of the abuser, they would know they can't get away with it, that they can't later make everyone feel sorry for them and go on with their sob stories. Abuse would get them punished, not sympathized with.

I also believe the abuser's point of view should be decentralized; it should be victims who get to speak. It's easy for the abuser to show themselves in the positive light, minimizing the abuse, insisting the victim provoked or wanted it, that it wasn't that bad and it was done with 'best intentions'. But if we listened to victims, we would quickly understand that anyone who can do this to another person is monstrous, and should not be extended any sympathy. Abusers don't extend their sympathy to the victims when they abuse, so why should they expect to get it? Society should take abuse more seriously and put defenses into place, so abusers are not as easily able to put it behind closed doors. Resources for recognizing abuse, especially child abuse and intimate abuse, should be taught, spread and shared in society, so nobody would be able to convince another that suffering abuse is normal, or justified.

One of the biggest barriers to escaping abuse is victim confessing what's been happening to a trusted family member or a friend, and then this family member or a friend shaming and blaming them for it, instead of offering help and protection. It takes a lot of courage to even say something out loud, knowing the abuser would punish them for it, and then to be punished externally for speaking out, it's devastating. If abuse was taken seriously, and victims understood to be fault-free, but singled out, isolated and hurt in a way that nobody should be, and it was understood it's a societal responsibility to protect them against this, it would be easier to speak out, and get support. It often takes a society to help someone get free, because abusers are hell-bent on abusing once they start to, the victims need multiple barriers before abusers could get anywhere near them.

And why shouldn't we want that? If we know there are people in society such as children, young people, people without regular income, poor people, disabled people, compassionate people, marginalized people, people who struggle to recognize and flag down predators, shouldn't we want to make sure they're protected? That nothing bad happens to them, and they're free to live their lives safe from those who would do them continuous harm and make them want to die? We want our young, old, kind, vulnerable, sensitive, disabled, poor, compassionate and marginalized people safe and happy. There's no reason to throw them under the bus and leave them to suffer abuse.

[drdemonprince]

I recently learned that bisexuals have higher rates of poverty than gay and lesbian folks -way higher, actually. Do you know of any study or essay that goes into the possible causes? I can only find sources describing the problem, none actually hypothesizing

Nobody knows why, but there are a few competing theories. I think what most of the reports on this subject fail to take into account is that bisexuals are a larger segment of the population than either lesbians or gay men -- and so we're really comparing apples to oranges here, in terms of demographic size and perhaps even variance. Bisexuals are the largest LGBT group and we may see a greater statistical diversity of outcomes within that group than in others.

The prevailing explanation that I've seen is that bisexuals are less likely to find a community "home" -- their identity is less socially legible and visible and so they may be less likely to access LGBTQ resources, forge community ties, or even to really recognize themselves as a member of the community deserving of such things. Not knowing yourself or your people while still being marginalized can be really damaging.

Bisexuals also face the dual vulnerability of both being queer and potentially being in romantic relationships with straight people who are homophobic and will retaliate against them for their queerness. The domestic violence and sexual assault vulnerabilities bisexuals face are doubtless related to their economic outcomes.

Sometimes, these dynamics get misreported as gay men and lesbians oppressing bisexuals, but that's not really the mechanism at work here. It's relationships with cishet men. I believe it was Butchanarchist who pointed out that lesbians face the same rate of domestic violence as bisexual women when they're in relationships with men. Of course, fewer lesbians on average are in relationships with men. So in reality it's the on-average greater proximity with and vulnerability to cishet people that bisexuals tend to suffer from. Gay men and lesbians are sometimes (but far from always!) able to get more distance from their oppressors than bisexuals are. But the oppressors in both cases are the same.

[cleo-writes]

Leo valdez x Apollo!reader

Pt2

°•~《☆》~•°

A/n: wrote this fic out of nowhere. Definitely didnt start out as a percy fic... let me know if you want a part 2!

Warnings: slight cussing, kinda gore stuff but honestly nothing :)

Enjoy!

°•~《☆》~•°

"Again?" You groan as you see Leo stumble through the infirmary door, bloody, bruised, and a shit eating grin on his face, for the seventh time this week.

It's Friday, capture the flag. The infirmary was busier than ever, so Leo showing up (again) was more of an annoyance than a flattering gesture as per usual. You didn't have time for his sassy-sarcastic-filled conversations.

His grin somehow grows wider when he hears your voice, your tone more annoyed each time he walked into the infirmary. it seemed impossible how he could grin like that when he was probably in a hell of a lot of pain.

You checked over the damages. Black eye, minor scratches on his palms, clutching his own stomach, and bruises everywhere. He was probably bleeding under his shirt, too.

It crossed your mind that maybe that was done on purpose, so you had to take his shirt off. You quickly shook off the thought. It was probably not true and just something you made up, right? Right?

"Yeah... yeah, hi." Leo mumbled, the pain evident in his voice. You scoff and look around for one of your siblings to take Leo off your hands. You already had so many patients on your plate. You couldn't deal with Leo right now.

"I'll get Will to fix you up, Leo. I don't have time -" You started to say before:

"No! No... p-please?" Leo whined, vulnerability laced within his tone of voice.

You frowned, a little confused but not giving in.

"Leo Valdez, I don't have time to deal with this--with you right now. There's too much to do, and we're running low on supplies and-and." You cut your rant off with a heavy sigh.

"No," You said.

"Please, y/n? I'm... I'm hurt." Leo pouts, though he sounded serious for once

You groan and grab his wrist, triggering a wince out of him. Gods, he was bruised everywhere.

You lead Leo into an empty room, practically shove him on the infirmary bed, and lock the door.

Leo chuckled and winced, but there was no sarcastic comment on how you dragged him here. This was the most concerning thing of all.

You turn to face him, seeing a grimace on his face though he tried (and failed) to keep a nonchalant expression.

"Rate your pain 1-10." You mumble to him, almost in annoyance.

"0 out of ... out of ten. Wouldn't...Wouldn't recommend."

"Okay, repeating words but keeping a sarcastic attitude. I'll put that at a 9..."

You take Leos arm and inspect the damage. Not much, a few minor scratches, and one bigger scratch, but nothing major. You checked his other arm to find mostly the same things.

"You better be thankful for this, I have so much to deal with right now, and you aren't helping." You said to Leo while rolling up his shirt sleeve to see his left shoulder.

"Yeah, well, gotta see....see, my favorite doctor." Leo beamed, though he stumbled over words. You frowned.

"Where's it hurt most?" You asked gently after seeing nothing major that would cause his stumbling.

Leo pointed to his lower torso.

Shit.

You grimace. This might be a worse injury then you thought.

"Take ... take off your shirt." You tell him, looking away for just a second. Shitshitshi-

Leo grins like the devil and says: "Well, jeez, y/n. Take me out to dinner first." Before slowly removing his shirt, peeling it away from a nasty cut with a wince.

When Leo finally got his shirt over his head, you saw just how many scars he had. Not ones that were fresh and still bleeding, but ones that were months, years old.

Of course, you have scars of your own, but with how many healed scars Leo had... it couldn't be good in any way.

"...damaged goods, I know." Leo chuckled half heartedly. It shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.

"No," you whispered while rummaging through drawers for supplies. The actual bleeding cut on his left lower torso was pretty damn bad.

"You're not damaged goods, leo."

- You grabbed bandages -

"and even if you were, that wouldn't change the way people see you. You -" You cut yourself off, not sure why you were going on this big rant trying to convince Leo he was worth something to someone - to everyone.

It was the truth, but why did you care for the obnoxious, flirty, son of hephestus?

°•~《☆》~•°

Yay I'm finally done. Part 2 anyone?

[lucettapanchetta]

[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Seven Red Suns, No Significant Harassment, Five Pebbles, Big Sis Moon SOURCE NODE TRACE: NSHROOT, SRSROOT, LTTMROOT LTTM_COMM05, LTTM_COMM04, LTMM_COMM03. FP ROOT

[ Are we ready to establish communication yet? ] [ Yes. All forms of transcription are good to go. Just make sure you manage to send this broadcast to Moon. ] [ ... ] [ I'm not getting a pulse. Not from her transmission arrays of course. ] [ That's fine, just keep port forwarding until you find one that works. ] [ On it. ] [ ... ] [ Still not getting a pulse. There seems to be some sort of low-frequency interference going on. ] [ Should've expected it, Moon's probably overclocking herself right now. ] [ Oh, you think so? ] [ ... ] [ Hold on a second, we're getting a pulse! ] [ From whom? Moon? ] [ No, it's... ] [ Five Pebbles. ] [ Patch him in! I need to see how he's doing. ] [ You do that, I'll keep finding vulnerabilities in Moon's transmission system so we can broadcast this over. ] == BROADCAST MESSAGE IS CORRUPTED OR UNREADABLE == [ Five Pebbles, are you there? ] [ Your messages are delivering, but we aren't able to decode them immediately. ] [... HELP ] [ ...something is is damaging my ... foundation. ...high levels of oxidization located... ] [ ...water is ... low. ...exterior is experiencing ...sort of material imbalance... local tropospheric temperatures... high. ] [ We're going to help you; we just need to your status. ]

[ ...bad. inefficient... moderately damaged. ]

[ Hey, more importantly, could you tell us about Moon's recent activities? ]

[ ...moon? ...radio communications have been down for her since... ] == BROADCAST MESSAGE IS CORRUPTED OR UNREADABLE ==

[ Activities... unknown, unable to contact. ] == BROADCAST MESSAGE IS CORRUPTED OR UNREADABLE == [ Are you able to use your overseers? ] [ ...56% of overseers ... offline. radio transmission... hard to direct...] [ ...green neural electricity ... very strong. disrupts... frequency ys... ] [ please send help, she... won't listen to me... seniority privileges enabled! ] [ We will soon, just hold on! Could you send a wide sweep diagnostics test to No Significant Harassment? ] == BROADCAST MESSAGE IS CORRUPTED OR UNREADABLE == [ ... ] [ We've lost connection. ] [ Yeah, I noticed. Doesn't make it better that the remaining outlets got blocked due to Moon's seniority privileges. ]

[ On the bright side, that is the most amount of conversation I've had with Five Pebbles in a while. ] [ Who knew him being in impending doom would've resulted in me talking to him! ] [ ...you honestly should talk to Five Pebbles more often, he's not that bad once you get to understand him y'know? ] [ I'll sleep on it. ] [ Sigh. ]

[ I hope he can send over that diagnostic report soon, he must be suffering. ]

[klm-zoflorr]

Behold... The McEpic superhero AU (more info in pinned) miraculous ladybug Lovesquare!!! Because I love these kinds of antics, and you know, why not!

I imagine some of you must have had theories? As to who would actually be in the love square? Ever since I talked about it. And yeah, its JonTim. Originally wanted to make it TimSasha, but they just give me the vibes of absolute besties who told each other their secret identities a while ago. So, not them. Also Maelstrom is way too cool to be bothered with silly rivalries. So yeah!! Jontim!!

-So, Archivist and Inferno's rivalry is very public. They beat each other up a little, steal each other's thunder sometimes, argue over who gets to do what mission, the works.

-But truth is Inferno might act like a tough, sarcastic guy, but he's just extremely down bad for the Archivist. Like, imagining the music selection at their wedding down bad. Poor dear just doesn't know how to show it, since his first attempts at flirting were answered with Archivist being entirely oblivious. So, pulling pigtails it is. He knows that's not how you woo people! He's Tim bloody Stoker! But he just started doing it, and now they're stuck in the dynamic, and he can't get out of the hole he dug himself into oh god oh lord

-Jon on the other hand genuinely doesn't really like Inferno's persona very much. Tim projects an irritatingly arrogant image when he's in costume and that's just not Jon's deal. Also, he reacts to the horrible injuries they see all the time with a blank facade, helping but seemingly not caring because that's how he copes, while Jon can't help but feel queasy. Just an issue in translation, you see (technically Watchman reacts the same but he and Jon talk a lot, so he got to ask him about that and get his point of view.) Add to that the fact Inferno doesn't seem to hold himself to the same standard of collateral damage Jon does and... Yeah (but like, Tim's powers are also a lot more difficult to control. He tries but doesn't always succeeds. And then acts like it was all on purpose becaude that's what his superhero image is about)

-Another thing, I think Tim really admires Archivist's dedication to protecting people, and morals and self sacrificing instincts and how hard working and resilient he is. To the point of being rather jealous/resentful of those personality traits, which of course he covers with more sass and jeering. Oh, lord.

-As for their civilian personas! Jon is technically Tim's shift manager, but like, is it significant when you work at a coffee shop? Nah. They're very good long term friends actually, kinda just canon s1 jontim. Jon just happens to have a little silly awkward crush on Tim he tries to not think about too much. Entirely understandable, that's Tim we're talking about. He's cute and funny and vulnerable sometimes and witty and HOT.

-Also, Tim isn't as impressed by regular Jon because he just doesn't show those bits of him he does when he's saving people (being self sacrificing, brave, etc etc). He's just Jon, he's tired and grumpy and he's there to do his job.

[howlingday]

Schnarkos, Schnarkos!

Nora: So, how's that new boyfriend of yours, P-Money- ACK! COUGH! COUGH!

Pyrrha: He's perfect! He hasn't cheated on me once!

Jaune: That's correct! I would never do anything to violate the sanctity of our relationship!

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

Weiss: (Sighs) Look at this absolute mess of a meal... I wouldn't eat a single bite...

Weiss: BUT I made it special for you because I wanted to test your love~!

Jaune: Oh, Brothers help me... My other girlfriend is trying to kill me!

Weiss: THE BROTHERS AREN'T HERE RIGHT NOW, but you can leave a message~!

Jaune: (Eats) Mm... It's not that bad. But why do I feel like this is a trap?

Weiss: Because I'm planning to steal you away from Pyrrha with my devotion!

Jaune: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Do I have a say in this?

Weiss: YOU'LL DO WHAT I SAY WHEN I SAY AND HOW I SAY.

Weiss: Now, take me to your significant other so I can settle this for good~!

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

Pyrrha: What's up, Jaune? Who's this white-haired bitch?

Jaune: I literally have no idea. She won't stop following me! And it's starting to get weird...

Weiss: Introduce me properly, or I won't make you any more meals~.

Jaune: That would be a small miracle.

Weiss: I'm his girlfriend~!

Pyrrha: Do what now?

Jaune: I'm a two-timing, waifu-collecting scum!

Pyrrha: YOU'RE AN IDIOT!

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

Weiss: So, who wants to do a karaoke style rap battle for Jaune's dick? The winner takes all in this steamy, ecchi romance novel~!

Pyrrha: Weiss is a bitch!

Weiss: ...

Weiss: (Shattering glass)

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

Pyrrha: Thank you, Weiss, for getting us kicked out.

Weiss: It wasn't my fault!

Jaune: THE OWNER HAD TO DRAG YOU OUT!

Weiss: That's on him for having Carnifex on the playlist!

Pyrrha: You're lucky he didn't sue you after causing that much damage!

Weiss: Okay! I get it! Now, who wants to play Grifball instead? (Leaps to her feet) Whoever scores the most goals gets to take Jaune on the next da- (Trips) AAAGH!

Pyrrha: I think you're disqualified.

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

Jaune: Alright, I've had enough of both of you! I never want to see either of you ever again!

Weiss: So, who's up for a threesome~?

Jaune: Well... Sharing is caring~!

Pyrrha: Are you kidding me?!

Weiss: Sharing is caring and it can be fun~!.

Weiss: I'll give you some 'cause you got none~!.

Weiss: There's nothing more important under the sun~!.

Weiss: Sharing is caring and sharing is fun~!.

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

Pyrrha: Well, we're here!

Jaune: Why are the two of you in my house?!

Weiss: We followed you home~!

Jaune: Well, that's mildly terrifying.

Pyrrha: Don't you know it's the man's responsibility to take two vulnerable girls home late at night!

Jaune: Alright, I give up. I'm too tired to deal with you two. Feel free to sleep on the couch, or whatever. I'm taking a shower and going to bed.

Pyrrha: Yay~! We'll destroy his Xbox and break his heart!

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

Jaune: WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO BE IN HERE?!

Pyrrha/Weiss: It saves water~!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Long Covid activist Meighan Stone didn't want to take her mask off. After pressuring her multiple times, an ER nurse called security on her. This public health failure happened at Sibley Hospital in D.C. These incidents are happening on a regular basis now as mask bans and proposals spread from L.A. to New York. You're not going to hear much about it in the news. When you do, it's framed as a problem for the vulnerable, with blue fascists freely associating masks with crime and hate.

None of the handful of stories that discuss these mask bans mention that we're currently in the middle of a deep Covid surge, at a million cases a day. None of them talk about mask bans in the context of Long Covid in adults and children.

A widely cited study declaring "strikingly low" rates of Long Covid in children was recently retracted due to major flaws in methodology. The researchers who pushed for this retraction are heroes and champions of truth.

Is the media covering that?

Not really.

To their credit, Time did recently run a very important piece on Long Covid in children, focusing on a recent study published in JAMA.

Here's the highlight:

They estimated that 20% of the previously infected younger children and 14% of the previously infected adolescents met that threshold [for diagnosis]. Kids infected before the Omicron wave were especially likely to fall into the Long COVID category. Those numbers are higher than some previous estimates—for example, a recent U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report concluded that only about 1% of U.S. kids had had Long COVID as of 2022. But other studies have come to similar conclusions, estimating that somewhere between 10% and 20% of kids who catch COVID-19 will develop long-term complications.

Media outlets like USA Today and NBC are also covering this study. For once, major news networks are devoting attention to something that deserves it. Of course, they're doing it after years of running stories blaming children's school performance and developmental delays on smartphones and lockdowns.

Earlier this year, The New York Times published a misleading, biased story on the "long-lasting" harm of school closures. And The Washington Post recently ran a story also blaming absences on everything except Long Covid and immune system damage. Even Education Week has run pieces attributing weak academic performance to school closures and stress, not the virus itself. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. Pick a magazine or newspaper and you'll find stories like these, but very few talking about the ongoing harm of exposing children and teenagers to Covid. The ones that do are almost always sitting behind a paywall.

Absence speaks louder than words, and not just about Covid.

In 2022, barely 1 percent of all corporate television focused on climate change. That was, in fact, a record high. A year later, it fell 25 percent. That was 2023, the year we surpassed 1.5C of warming for all practical purposes. It was the hottest year in recorded history, and also the worst year for climate disasters, costing us $600 billion in the U.S. alone. Entire countries shut down because it was too hot for work or school. All that, and the corporate media spent even less time talking about the problem. Meanwhile, one columnist after another published long screeds against doomers and fearmongers, insisting that we still had plenty of time to turn things around.

A compelling piece by Ryan Hagen breaks down the unsettling relationship between western news media and the fossil fuel industry. As he points out, internal reports from companies like Exxon celebrate their campaign to turn liberal news outlets like The New York Times in favor of their own industries, convincing the public they were working hard to shift toward renewable energy when the plan was always to use it like icing on top of a cake made out of coal.

Tireless work by Amy Westervelt has chronicled the impact of these campaigns. As her research shows, climate change has morphed from a topic that 80 percent of the public felt an urgency about to, now, a divisive issue and a point that most people would rather not talk about. On top of that, think tanks like the Atlas Network have made a major push to criminalize peaceful climate protests and turn public opinion against activists. A Yale study found that more than 60 percent of Americans hardly ever hear anything about climate change now.

And if you bring it up...

You're a doomer.

There has been a concerted effort across the internet to paint anyone who actually cares about the future as a deeply unhinged fearmonger. Meanwhile, social media giants like Meta have relentlessly censored information about Long Covid.

Have you noticed?

Nate Bear pulled the curtain back on how the media works roughly a year ago. As he puts it, "A lot of the stories you see in the headlines are the result of a PR agency. And depending on the news, the PR agent might not send out a release en-masse but “sell in” the story as an exclusive to just one outlet... Every day a proportion of all news you read starts at just a handful of these agencies."

PR firms are constantly wooing journalists, creating an atmosphere where conflict of interest is more of a feature than a bug.

Caitlin Johnstone did a thorough breakdown of mass media bias. Perhaps the most egregious example: MSNBC reporter Krystal Ball leveled blunt but accurate criticism of Hillary Clinton's 2016 campaign and correctly predicted that she would lose against Donald Trump because of all her neoliberal baggage. In response, the Clinton campaign threatened the entire network "not to provide any access during the upcoming campaign." The head of the network told Ball that she "could still say what I wanted, but I would have to get any Clinton-related commentary cleared with the president of the network."

So, she couldn't say whatever she wanted.

Right?

Johnstone cites a piece by Jeff Cohen in Salon that also outlines the peer pressure, groupthink, and careerism that dominates the newspapers, magazines, and mainstream news networks in the U.S.

As she further explains:

Journalists either learn how to do the kind of reporting that will advance their careers in the mass media, or they don’t learn and they either remain marginalized and unheard of or they get worn down and quit.

Christopher Hedges, who left The New York Times after a written reprimand for criticizing the Iraq War, has gone on to describe in disturbing detail how the U.S. media caters to the Israeli government, continually overlooking its war crimes. An outspoken critic of U.S. policy, Hedges has endured persecution for speaking the truth, including the cancellation of his news program for defending other writers and real journalists from charges of antisemitism.

Another outspoken critic, Mehdi Hasan, was dropped from MSNBC for speaking out over Palestine. As Sharon Zhang wrote after the decision, "Hasan has been one of the only news anchors on a major broadcast outlet speaking up against Israel's brutality." He was also one of the few news anchors who told the truth about Covid. As Hasan recently made clear in The Guardian, it's imperative for Democrats to take a stronger, pro-humanitarian stance on Gaza and break with Biden's approach, which has sparked outrage and disgust across the left.

Hasan makes a remarkable point in this column, looking to history for cues about how Democrats need to act to ensure history.

It's not vibes.

It's guts.

Nobody really remembers Hubert Humphrey, LBJ's vice president who lost the 1968 election to Richard Nixon by about a percentage point. It's a lesson worth talking about. Humphrey was losing badly because he couldn't stand up to his own party, the Democrats, who were actually very, very pro-Vietnam War. He managed to close the gap considerably in the 11th hour of the race, finally standing up to his own party and promising to end the war if he became president. Hasan wonders what would've happened if he had trusted his gut sooner.

Well, history gives us a few clues. After all, Nixon did end the war. In the decades since, the Vietnam War has gone down in history as one the biggest mistakes the U.S. ever made. Psychologists use it as a case study of entrapment in escalating conflicts. It's a touchstone used to rate our other failures.

Time and again, history tells us that doing the right thing actually serves political expedience far more than vibes.

Democrats could ensure a landslide victory if they would just take a clear stance on our biggest threats and challenges. They could be honest about Covid. They could stand up against mask bans. They could stand up against genocide. They could renew their promise to take on climate change.

We're not seeing that.

Instead, we see the same groupthink and indirect censorship that dominates the news media. It's not a surprise, given how entwined they've become.

Look at what's happening to Taylor Lorenz.

Outlets like The Washington Post and NPR, who pride themselves on their devotion to democracy and diversity, have assailed Lorenz for referring to Biden as "a war criminal" in a private social media post.

Here's the worst part of NPR's story:

Lorenz has also courted controversy, online, in print, and in real life. During the peak of the pandemic, and since its ebb, she has inspired mockery from conservatives over her insistence on wearing masks, even outdoors. She has cited autoimmune issues as the reason.

Look at the verbs here. Far from objective, they describe Lorenz as "insisting" on wearing a mask "even outdoors," and then frame her autoimmune issues not as a reality but as a reason, almost an excuse. For the record, multiple studies have shown that Covid spreads outdoors, especially at crowded events.

This is what writers and real journalists deal with as they try to do the right thing. It's disturbing to watch.

Both Jared Yates Sexton and Sarah Kendzior have expressed an ambivalent reluctance to get on board with the vibes as the DNC hosts their national convention. The kindest thing Sexton can say is that "It was a masterful feat of political theater" as organizers clambered to put down pro-Palestinian protests during speeches and tilted cameras away from violence and toward more soothing, therapeutic shots of Tim Walz with his family.

As Kendzior writes, "Today both the Democratic and Republican parties operate on cult logic, which means they sometimes have the same policies, but wrapped in different rhetoric--because cultists will abide anything so long as their leader is the one pushing it. Policies they would protest if they were carried out by the other side are suddenly deemed acceptable when pushed by their own."

The same goes for media coverage.

It's worth pointing out that Kamala Harris no longer supports a ban on fracking. She no longer supports a single-payer healthcare system, otherwise known as "Medicare for all" which would provide healthcare access to everyone. Her stance on border patrol and police funding have all shifted right. The media signs off on it, saying "Progressives said they’re disappointed but still support her as she works out the best strategy to defeat former President Donald Trump — even if it means leaving their cause behind."

But it's not just causes getting left behind.

It's human beings.

Is it simply a desire or a wish that nurses don't call security on us because we want to wear masks at an ER, like Meighan Stone? Do we have to leave our human rights behind so we can ensure our human rights?

Do we have to lay down our lives for vibes?

That's the current groupthink.

So there you have it.

The media doesn't report the truth. They spend about 1 percent of their time on things that actually matter. Politicians cater to an underinformed public, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to nurses calling security on immunocompromised patients for wearing a mask, while newspapers and networks fire real journalists for daring to do their jobs.

It's really something, isn't it?

It doesn't help when readers and viewers complain anytime someone salts their mood with the truth. In an era where free, independent content matters more than ever, it's also harder than ever to come by. How are content creators supposed to tell the truth or talk about things that matter when they're constantly being reprimanded, penalized, and punished every time they try?

We desperately need a free press, and we need a public that supports a free press and not silos of dueling echo chambers.

You get what you support.

It's that simple.

[bedtimegiraffe]

I finally figured out why all the party members in Book 2 come out as so frustratingly self-focused to me.

It's not because they're all struggling with their own stuff. It's all about shelving your agenda- that thing in a relationship where you go, 'You need my support right now, so we're going to worry about my thing later.'

And MC does this constantly.

I just barely escaped death and found out a year passed, but is Kade recovered from the Shadow Court?

I just almost drowned, but it's time to comfort this owlbear cub and unpack Valax's trauma!

I just almost died twice to the Ash Empress, but is Nia coping with being corrupted okay?

Which can be okay. Shelving your agenda is part of a healthy relationship of any kind.

The problem is that no one does it back. I think Tyril and Nia kind of sum up the whole group's attitude:

But I don't think MC was ever going to be 'ready.' Someone else was always going to have to 'unshelve' it for them and make an effort to put the focus on MC.

Now, adventurers don't tend to be particularly well adjusted people. The full party has got maybe 1.5 healthy childhoods and 4 living parents between them (judged pretty generously). But it still feels like the others can't get it together enough to ask if MC is okay. Not that MC really makes it easy! I see MC as someone who is so used to pushing their feelings down to focus on whatever work is in front of them, they almost can't access their own emotions.

Which is why we had the brief glimpses of panic and the breakdown moment in Chapter 17. I think the breakdown makes sense mechanically. Kade is the one character your MC is guaranteed to have a strong connection to and this way it's not gated behind any diamond choices (like some really crucial character moments with Aerin and Valax, no I'm not bitter about it). But that makes it feel like the whole party has been neglecting MC while Kade immediately sees MC and goes, "Dude, you are not okay. Talk to me.'

And MC tries to turn it into comforting Kade! Kade has to actively argue with MC to make them actually acknowledge that they're having a hard time.

MC for some reason can't or won't talk about their own trauma and Kade (who's only been around for 5 minutes) is the one who has to actively force the issue for MC's own good. Which is not a great look for the rest of the found family.

Afterward, Mal and Nia both seem to address it without really getting the point. Mal says, "We know things didn't go the way any of us wanted." (Which could mean... anything. But I'm feeling generous.)

Protecting MC from death is not an equivalent exchange to talking about feelings! It is in fact dodging the feelings by focusing on practicalities again! Y'all better get it together in Book 3, I swear.

Overall, MC constantly delays addressing their own vulnerability and issues to focus on everyone else. And the others don't know how to do the same thing for MC, so the pattern just gets more engrained and damaging.

Except for Kade, my perfect boy.

Sources (they're fun, I promise!):

Screenshots from Neckrone Shen's playthroughs of Blades on YouTube, my go-to for whenever I can't remember something or don't have the screenshots myself.

I think @oh-so-youre-a-nerd's incredible piece 'Take Take Take' kept rattling around in my head until I figured out how to articulate why it felt this way: https://www.tumblr.com/oh-so-youre-a-nerd/736449955360899072/take-take-take?source=share

The language of 'shelving your agenda' came from the very good Cinema Therapy video about Kristoff from Frozen:

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X READER

A LITTLE BIT OF MISTAKE pt. 2

Warning: This content is rated 🔞. This might involve sexual relations. Do not read if you are underage.

(Previously)...

You blushed hard but at the same time, your heart started beating faster.

"No. No. No! NO!! YOU ASSHOLE! Don't you fucking dare touch me you perverted bastard!" You yelled, squirming beneath his grasp.

Mauga watched them squirmed, lifting them and smiles as he watched them contently.

(CONTINUATION)...

It's becoming more difficult for you to maintain your sanity with Mauga at your side because the two of you are still stuck within the damaged structure.

He gently lays you back down on the ground where you had previously fallen but this time he kept your arms pinned to your sides with one hand and placed his other over both of your wrists firmly. He looked down at your face, still covered with dirt and dust from the collapsed building. He leaned down close to you and spoke softly in your ear, "...I think we're done here, don't you?"

He suddenly pulls you into a standing position and pins you against the boulder behind you, holding you there by your arms. His face inches closer until you can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

"How about a kiss... to show you that you aren't useless anymore?~" He cooed.

You glared at him, "Not happening. Get off of me."

Your expression became murderous and you began furiously thrashing around against his grip, screaming at him, "If you were able to get out of this trap all this time then what's the hold up! What are you waiting for, huh!? Just kill me already! I know you want to!"

Mauga simply chuckled, staring down at you with those unnerving eyes of his, "Why, little bunny, I'd love to~ I'm just enjoying seeing the light in your eyes disappear~"

he grinned and laughed.

"You sick fuck! You sick piece of shit!! Stop messing with me!!" You screamed at him and struggled against his grip harder. You continued to struggle for quite some time, until Mauga suddenly stops moving and loosened his hold on your wrists,

and his large hands covers your eyes.

You stood there now confused, feeling utterly bewildered as you tried desperately to see what he's doing now. He seemed to be standing right beside you.

Before you could say something Mauga brings his lips to yours and kisses you passionately and passionately in return, making your blood boil.

You stood there in shock.

You try your best to fight back but you can't move.

You can't do anything except stare in darkness helplessly.

Feeling his lips as he kisses you passionately, his huge hand covering your eyes gently.

You don't realize that your eyes are closing until he breaks the kiss to take a breath.

"Wanna see how much longer you can last?" He whispers in your ears, sending shivers down your spine as he puts down his hand and stares at your revealed shock expression.

He kisses your cheek, your nose, your chin, your neck... anywhere he wanted, leaving soft kiss marks wherever he kissed.

You held back moan. Trying your hardest to suppressed them.

He keeps kissing you, his mouth traveling from your lips to your jaw and finally to your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your sensitive skin as he continued to kiss every inch of your skin with no regard to your struggles.

You stood there frozen.

'Wasn't he about to kill me?'

'Why is he so gentle?'

'He's an enemy'

'I cannot...'

'What is he trying to do?'

You tell yourself.

You feel your resistance gradually melting away until you lose any sense of logic left in your brain, just giving in to the passion that filled you and his kisses and touches.

You begin to melt against him, feeling overwhelmed and powerless and hopeless.

You don't even notice that the darkness has completely swallowed you whole until you are completely engulfed by it.

You pretended to stay strong, even though you didn't want to, even though you weren't ready.

You tried your very best to resist his kiss and words that made you feel weak and vulnerable, but it didn't last long before you break in and gave into his pleasured words and kisses.

Even now, as long as you live, you will never forget how hot, lustful, passionate Mauga's kisses were.

Mauga stops kissing you, but you can feel the wetness of his mouth where he kissed you, and you're sure he's licking it up with a satisfied smile on his face.

You feel your face flush bright red as you realize what you have done.

You stared with disbelief at the mess you've created. You've just kissed the monster who tried to kill you. You had no idea how you got yourself into such a predicament and what was worse, you knew exactly what it is that he wants from you, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't do it. You couldn' t give into him. There is no way you would let someone like him win.

You were determined to keep fighting until the end.

"How dare you!" you spat venomously, pushing Mauga harshly on the chest, causing him to stumble slightly before grabbing you by your shoulders and placing you back up in front of him, pinning you back against the wall again.

You glare up at him, refusing to look away or back down. You hated him, you hated everything about him.

"Be careful! I have two hearts inside of me, remember that. It's quite painful when I have one of them in my possession." He explained with a smirk, leaning down closer to you. "Don't test my patience too much, bunny." He muttered, his voice low and dangerous, "We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

The two of you were silent. Both glaring and glaring daggers at each other, neither breaking eye contact not until...

You pulled him into a heated, desperate kiss, your teeth biting into his lip roughly.

Mauga groans, pulling away and allowing himself to be lost in the sensation of being with you. He wrapped an arm around your waist possessively and held you tight against him. The feeling of his big fingers pressing tightly against your hips was enough to make your knees quiver involuntarily.

He moved slowly, savouring the taste of your lips. His tongue explored your moist mouth as he deepens the kiss. You moaned in excitement as he licked your bottom lip teasingly, sucking on it gently, teasing you more.

Your hands roamed into his chest, gently touching his cybernetic hearts, loving the feeling as you stroked them with the pads of your fingertips. You felt them beating, almost violently, your fingers crossed to its tribal tattoos as you ran your hands along the edges of them.

As you traced the tattoo on Mauga's chest, he growled in pleasure.

"lo'u alofa," he says breathlessly, looking deeply into your eyes, "you're a temptress." He says with that huge smug look plastered all over his face.

You widened your eyes and now you have regretted what you have officially done.

You pulled away from him with a blush.

"I am going to die if I continue with this..." You whisper in horror You hadn't meant to kiss him like that, you didn't mean to make a fool out of yourself. Your eyes widen even further in horror and embarrassment.

Mauga chuckles, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist and bringing you back into his embrace, pressing his body tighter against yours.

"If your worried about your so-called Overwatch team, then don't worry about much," He mumbled, his lips brushing against your ear. "They ain't here."

"Then why don't you leave already!?" You snapped and pushed against his chest once more.

He smiled, his grin widening as he pressed his chest harder against yours.

"Because this is fun...and you're fun...and I'm so damn hungry." He grins.

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed, crossing your arms against your chest.

"...You're a pig." You muttered.

Mauga smirks, "And what are you?" He retorted.

You glared at him angrily.

"I hate you."

Mauga just smiles at you.

Suddenly he picks you up bridal style and leaps from the imprisoned structure, shielding you, and the two of you are set free.

You stared in disbelief. You were free? You thought you were going to die! How could you be so stupid!?

"With your immense strength, you might have simply set us free. Why didn't you do that from the start!?" You exclaimed angrily in anger at him, not knowing what else to say, "We would have been free sooner if you just saved us first!"

Mauga just laughs amused at you, putting you back down on the ground, "I did save you. Now you're here."

You glared at him.

"No, you killed me, asshole!" You shouted angrily at him.

"And yet here you stand." Mauga smug triumphantly, pointing a finger at you. "You should thank me."

"Oh, fuck you..."

"Your welcome." He smirks.

Mauga looks around. It was still broad daylight but when the two of you were trapped together it felt like hours had gone by since your kiss. You both looked at one another.

And Mauga, that giant ass pig, smirked widely.

"Your friends aren't here either...that means you're alone." He said smugly.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your cheeks heating up.

"Well, they won't be for long because-" Suddenly, he grabs you by the waist and carries you bridal style,again. "Woah!" You exclaimed in surprise. "Put me down!" You yelled at him.

He smirks as he brings his face inches from yours. "Nope," he smirks.

You huff frustratedly as you roll your eyes.

Mauga together with you ran towards his place, wrapping your arms into his broad neck, praying to God that this man won't let go of you and drag you to his home.

When he reaches his house he drops you off at the door of his room.

"Welcome! ~" He chirped playfully.

You stared coldly at him before turning and walking briskly inside, avoiding him as he laughed heartily at you. Once the door closed behind you, you stood frozen on the spot, your cheeks blushing as heat spread throughout your entire body. That damned man was going to be the death of you.

"afio mai ile fale, alofa!" Mauga called out in a sing song voice as he walked back to his hut. "O le a manaia lenei mea!" He added with a laugh.

You stared with a bit of confusion. You don't speak samoan language, and you don't know that word, but Mauga spoke in it.

What does that word mean? You wondered.

You saw some bandages and some medicinal ointments laid out on a bed next to him, which you assumed belonged to Mauga. And then something else caught your attention: A small vial of clear liquid. You furrowed your brows. What was that? Was it medicine? Some sort of poison? Then beside the bed there was a table on top is a book.

It has Baptiste's picture circled in red, but you weren't able to make sense of it.

Why was there a picture of Baptiste on Mauga's bedside table?

Mauga closed the book, you were staring so much at the iillustration and suddenly he came up behind you, wrapping his large hands tightly around your waist.

Your heart started racing as he brought his head closer to you and placed a feathery light kiss on the nape of your neck.

"Why is Baptiste on your bedside table?", you asked curiously, completely forgetting that he had just kissed you. Mauga grinned at you mischievously.

"Baptiste, a friend who left me after a very bad time," he said darkly, tightening his grip slightly as though warning you to not cross him.

Mauga turned you around swiftly, pressing you forcefully against the wall behind you, his hand resting at the side of your neck. Your breathing became erratic as you stared into his glowing red eyes. Those eyes that reminded you of the blood stained on your arm; those eyes that made you weak. Made you weak because of the power and lust that radiated from them.

You swallowed hard as Mauga leaned down and took a soft, sweet kiss on the lips. His thumb caressed your cheek and he pulled away from you. You breathed heavily as Mauga placed another slow, lingering kiss on your nose, before he rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your beautiful eyes.

"Now I think you're ready to hear my explanation for that horrible kiss earlier."

You blushed hard, remembering how intimate and sexual it had become.

"Please tell me that wasn't actually a confession." You said hesitantly as you lowered your gaze and looked at your feet shyly.

Mauga laughed loudly, pulling you into his embrace, lifting you effortlessly in the air. His smile grew bigger as he carried you down to the bed. He placed you carefully on the mattress, propping himself up right next to you.

"If I am then, you're a terrible liar." He said.

You scowled at him, "I don't get that..." You said with a sour look. Mauga chuckled softly, rubbing your thighs with his thumbs. You shivered as his touch tingled your skin through the thin material of your underwear.

Mauga leaned in slowly. His lips brushed gently against yours as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a seductive smirk.

"I never lied when I said I was hungry..." He whispered, kissing you again. His kisses grew rougher, his tongue running along your bottom lip teasingly. Your whole body stiffened.

You tried to push him away but his large fingers held onto your wrists. He moved his head to your neck and began sucking marks into your skin.

"Mauga!" You gasped out between moans. His teeth dug harshly into your shoulder causing you to squirm beneath him.

"Hmm..." He hummed quietly, licking at your jawline as he pulled away. "... I can't! M-my teammates! I-I need to...to help them!" You protested but Mauga didn't listen to you anymore and soon his warm lips were back on yours, trailing over your collarbone, your neck and chest, his breath fanning against your naked flesh. He reached the edge of your panties and slowly lowers them like very slowly. You whimpered in protest but he only chuckled against your skin and continued to pull and peel away your clothes.

"M-mauga!" You whined as you grabbed hold of him, trying to pull him back towards yourself, to try and stop him. But he didn't move an inch and continued to tease your bare stomach. He pulled away from you, his bright, glowing eyes meeting yours.

"Don't worry about the others." He smirked evilly. "They'll be fine without you for awhile." He said before kissing and biting at your skin hungrily once more. His hot breath tickling and teasing as he teased you mercilessly.

"M-Mauga! No!" You begged as you squirmed, wanting desperately to escape.

"Mauga yes." Mauga groaned in pleasure.

"Your killing me... " "Good! I want this." Mauga whispered seductively in your ear, "Keep struggling. Keep fighting." He growled lowly, his deep voice rumbling within your ears. You couldn't help but whimper in excitement, but it soon died down as Mauga kissed you deeply. His tongue moving in sync with his hands, roaming your body with his hands.

"Aah..." You panted as you arched your back. "Mauga... "You cried out as you felt his mouth travel down to your breasts.

You whimpered and bucked your hips to bring him nearer to your entrance.

Mauga smirks and chuckles at your attempt to please him. He stopped what he was doing for a moment to look at you, amusement clearly written across his features.

"Oh yes." He whispers as he starts licking his way down your body, pausing every now and then to nibble at the sensitive skin.

"Hnnghhhh..." You moan and bite your lower lip nervously as goosebumps covered your skin. It felt so good. So right. Like it was meant to happen. It's been so long since you've had sex, or even been touched like this...and you knew it was all worth it.

"Ah~" you gasp as Mauga bites lightly on one of your breasts. You could feel tears forming in the corner of your eyes, and yet you kept looking at him and his eyes, searching for any hint of emotion that would indicate sadness, hurt or anger. Anything. But he remained calm, unaffected by your reactions and merely looked at you expectantly. You sighed sadly as you shook your head lightly.

"This isn't right." You told him as your eyes filled with regret. "I shouldn't have done this."

He looked up at you questioningly. "Done what?" He questioned calmly.

"Let you take advantage of me." You replied as you looked at the ground ashamed.

Mauga chuckled at this, "So you are interested."

Your eyes snapped up to meet his as you felt yourself flush scarlet at the realization. Oh no...

His lips curled into a wicked grin as he pushed you further into the pillows and leaned down and gave a passionate kiss. When he pulled away you stared blankly up at him for a moment, before you quickly sat up.

"No. This is wrong. I cannot do this to my team and you." You argued, feeling guilty.

"You say that, but we both know you will give in to temptation soon enough. And then what shall they do? The others are still out there looking for us." He argued.

"But this is wrong."

"And what if it is?" He challenged you. "Do you deny that our actions speak louder than words?"

You were speechless. How could you answer his question?

"If we keep going forward it may get harder. Difficult!" You reasoned. Mauga laughs loudly with that stupid beaming smile on his face.

"Difficult for whom? We don't see anyone here and they won't notice us, and besides you are already HERE. There is no other choice."

"That doesn't mean I am ready. If something were to happen to the team-"

Mauga licks your neck softly and trails a few gentle kisses down to your breasts. "What is 'wrong' with giving in to passion?" He asked huskily as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his fingers massaging at the tight, engorged knot. You let out a small gasp of discomfort and pleasure at this erotic assault

"M-Mauga! Stop! This isn't fair to the team! Please...you can't force me-"

"And why would you want to leave anyways? What's to stop you from staying, being exactly as you are now?" Mauga murmured as his fingers started exploring your pussy. Your hands immediately went to his hair and tugged playfully.

"Is it because I'm your enemy, little bunny?" He growls, leaning in close to your ear to nibble on it with his sharp fangs. You bit your lip and turned around slightly so that your back faced him. Mauga grinned to himself as he watched you.

"Or maybe you just like playing dirty and having fun when things go bad." He murmurs, pressing a kiss against the base of your spine before he begins to lick you slowly.

You moaned loudly. You wanted to beg him to stop. To end it. But you found yourself unable to utter any word.

You lay helpless underneath Mauga while he played your body like his personal playground. He was relentless with his ministrations until your body trembled uncontrollably from the exquisite pleasure coursing through you. Mauga grinned victoriously as he saw his prey finally succumb and break.

"E lua fatu e pamu...." He mumbled as he trailed his fingers along your clit to find a place that excited him most. He slipped a finger inside you and stroked you gently.

You cried out, reaching down to grab onto his hand. He smiled to himself and started fucking you hard. Your breathing became erratic as his fingers continued to thrust into you.

His fingers were large and strong, almost too big for you but your entire body seemed to crave his touch. You moaned loudly, clutching at the sheets with your fists.

Mauga watched you eagerly. He enjoyed seeing you writhing under him like that. Every moan, every whimper and gasp he heard was delicious. Even though you were supposed to hate him, Mauga couldn't help but enjoy watching you suffer, and enjoying the sounds of your pleasuring. Pleasure flooded into his veins, making him feel stronger and bolder.

"Mauga..." You pleaded weakly and he felt his dick twitch.

"You can call out my name all you like." Mauga purred before he slid another finger inside you.

You closed your eyes tightly. It took all your strength not to release, to not scream out loud, but you had to remain strong. Mauga knew this.

"Please...please don't stop." You pleaded again.

"Never." Mauga promised softly as he moved faster and faster, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulling and pulling them in and out of you. He loved hearing you scream like that. It made his cock throb painfully. He wanted nothing more than to watch you, to taste you, to make you cum all over his fingers.

He began to pump into you even faster and faster. Faster and faster as you tried to fight him. You needed this. You craved it. Deserved it. Wanted it. And you'd be damned if anything happened to ruin his fun.

You came in an instant. Your body shaking violently, screaming in pure ecstasy. Mauga smirked to himself. You looked absolutely beautiful when you climaxed. The sound of your screams mixed perfectly with the sound of your whimpers and pants escaping your mouth.

"Alofa, we're not finished. Not yet." Mauga breathed harshly as he watched you come undone, moaning incoherently. Mauga couldn't hold back the smug grin. After all, he was the one who had taken you there, so what did it matter that he was the one who was coming?

Mauga pulls his fingers out and grabs you firmly by the hips, pulling you up into him and slamming you down onto his tip. You moaned loudly as he slid his thick member in and out of you, your whole body tensing.

"T-too big!" You cried out, your eyes fluttering closed as he hit your prostate. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Just stay with me...stay with me..." He murmured in between grunts. "You want it just as much as I do." He added before sucking roughly on your breast.

The next minute you were moaning his name and begging for more as he fucked you harder and faster. His movements quickened to match your pace and soon you were gasping out his name repeatedly while his teeth tore at your nipple.

Mauga didn't stop there either. No. Not quite yet. He continued to pounds you fiercely and mercilessly as his tongue and teeth ravaged your body. You moaned and gasped loudly as you felt him push deeper and deeper inside of you. You wanted more, needed mmore

You both lost count how many times it happened. By the time he was finished and you had cried out again and again he pulled out of you completely, rolling off of you so that you were lying flat across the mattress, panting and sweaty from your orgasm, and completely spent.

You lay there, panting heavily, feeling lightheaded from the exertion and the lack of air, as Mauga laid beside you lazily, gazing down at you and grinning evilly like a child who had stolen all the candy from the store without permission.

His face was flushed and you could tell he hadn't stopped smiling since his climax. He was satisfied and very happy about it too.

You could tell by the way his eyes kept darting over your naked body greedily.

"Didn't think you'd last that long." Mauga muttered, still catching his breath. You rolled over to look up at him, trying to catch your breath also.

"I don't usually, but today was different..." You admitted softly.

"Oh? Because of my dick or the fact that we've been making love for a couple hours straight?" He chuckled, wiggling his brows playfully.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you stammered incoherently as you sat up, turning away from him to try and cool down. You knew he was teasing you but it still made you blush furiously.

Mauga laughed as he watched you fuss in front of him. He crawled over to you and kissed your shoulder tenderly.

"Hey now bunny, I wasn't joking. I really did enjoy myself today." He whispered. You turned back to look at him and smiled.

He was right; he had enjoyed the experience more than he had expected. But the thought of you doing it for the first time made him excited and nervous all at the same time. He wondered how he would react when he got to the point where he couldn't take the anticipation anymore. He wondered how it would affect him if you decided to leave. How disappointed he would feel afterwards and what he would do to convince you to stay.

But that was later. Right now, Mauga had something much better to focus on. Something far better to occupy his attention. He grabbed hold of your wrists to pull them above your head. You yelped in surprise, looking at him wide eyed.

"I was thinking, it wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have those pesky bruises anymore." Mauga said as he lifted your hands above your head and began tracing kisses all along your arms. You shivered at the soft touches and moaned quietly as his lips trailed further downwards.

You forget about the team, you forget about your job, you forget about everything else. All you cared about was his touch and the way his lips were making you feel. Mauga reached between your legs and began massaging you gently, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You writhed in pleasure beneath him, unable to contain the moan that escaped your lips.

"We'll continue this on our next mission~" He hummed as he slipped out his finger. "Maybe once you are ready I can take you back home, alofa."

He bent down and kissed you passionately. Your whole body tingled pleasantly and you could barely keep yourself upright as you returned his kiss.

Suddenly, your thoughts turned dark and you broke away from Mauga, gasping for air and trying desperately not to gag.

"OMG! My team!"

-End?

[alexandraisyes]

What is the difference between sociopath and psychopath?

OH! OH OH OH I LOVE THIS QUESTION. Also this is a massive explanation that really goes in-depth about neurology so I'll do a read more.

The main difference is that a psychopath is born with ASPD. A sociopath develops it during early (we're talking starting off as young as 2) childhood due to severe long-term (several years) abuse and neglect (generally from main caretakers).

There are also some nuances in how a socio's brain works in comparison to a psycho's. But the major difference that really determines all of the minor differences is that a psychopath doesn't necessarily have trauma related to their ASPD, and tends to have a lot less comorbid disorders. A sociopath ALWAYS has trauma that directly caused their ASPD and a fucking CVS receipt of comorbid disorders the large majority of the time.

There are also more sociopaths than there are psychopaths. The physiology of ASPD is that the brain's structure is different from an empathetic person. Specifically in the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala, because there's not enough activity in those areas for someone with ASPD. The prefrontal cortex is involved in decision-making, impulse control, and regulation of social behavior, and the amygdala is involved in emotion processing and fear response. Abnormalities in the amygdala contribute to a lack of empathy and increased aggression (aggression does NOT equal violence in this case, but rather an increased and pervasive level of negative emotion that makes you more likely to act out). Genetics have been proven to play a factor in how likely someone who was born empathetic would develop ASPD.

The difference here is that a psychopath is born with reduced blood flow to those areas. No trauma needed, that's just how they work.

On the contrary, a sociopath develops reduced blood flow to those areas because if you live in an environment that fosters the growth of anti-social traits and behaviors you are not exercising those parts of your brain. I'll go into a deep dive about the neurological aspects of how formative trauma turns into ASPD.

Chronic stress from abuse can impair the development of the prefrontal cortex; reduced activity or structural abnormalities in this area can lead to increased impulsivity and difficulty regulating emotions. The amygdala becomes hyperactive due to repeated exposure to threatening situations. This results in heightened aggression and reduced ability to empathize with others. Abuse can lead to a smaller hippocampus, impairing the ability to process emotions and increasing vulnerability to stress.

Chronic abuse elevates cortisol levels (the stress hormone), which can alter brain function and structure. Persistent high cortisol levels can damage the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus, exacerbating emotional and behavioral regulation issues. Serotonin and dopamine neurotransmitters regulate mood and behavior. Abuse can disrupt their levels, contributing to aggression, impulsivity, and difficulty experiencing pleasure or reward.

The autonomic nervous system (ANS) becomes hyperactive, leading to a state of constant alertness and readiness for perceived threats. This can cause chronic anxiety, irritability, and aggressive responses. Conversely, some individuals may develop a blunted stress response, showing reduced physiological reactions to stress. This can lead to a lack of fear or concern for consequences. (These two may combine so that safe things trigger stress and unsafe things do not).

Abusive environments can impair the development of secure attachments, leading to difficulties in forming trusting relationships. This can foster detachment, manipulative behavior, and a lack of empathy. Inconsistent or abusive parenting can disrupt normal emotional development, making it difficult for individuals to manage their emotions and impulses. This can result in volatile behavior and poor emotional control. Abusive environments often model and reinforce antisocial behaviors. Children learn to cope with stress through aggression or manipulation, which can become ingrained patterns of behavior. Abusive environments can impede moral development, leading to difficulties in understanding and adhering to societal norms and rules. This can result in a disregard for others' rights and a propensity for criminal behavior.

Trauma and abuse can also alter gene expression through epigenetic changes, affecting the brain's development and function. These changes can increase the risk of developing ASPD by influencing genes involved in stress response, emotional regulation, and social behavior.

A lot of people who went through severe childhood abuse may experience anti-social symptoms without having full-blown ASPD. When I was younger I did a genetic test that led to some very fascinating results that now that I'm older and understand my disorder I understand how my ASPD ties directly into my genetic depression, or rather my genetic depression is caused by my ASPD.

I don't process/produce Vitamin B6, B9 (Folate), and B12. These vitamins are crucial for brain function and the production of neurotransmitters. Deficiencies lead to mood disorders, cognitive impairments, and other neurological issues. B vitamins are involved in synthesizing neurotransmitters like serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine, which regulate mood and behavior. These are neurotransmitters that act as natural painkillers and mood enhancers. B vitamins play a role in the metabolic pathways that produce endorphins. An inability to properly absorb, process, or produce B vitamins can disrupt these pathways, leading to lower endorphin levels, which can contribute to symptoms of depression and affect overall mental well-being.

Because of how specific my issue is I had to take a specialized blend of B Vitamins. Unfortunately once I turned 18 my parents stopped buying them for me and I haven't had the funds to purchase my own at all since I was cut off (which has led to my mental health tanking). I strongly suggest anyone who deals with anti-social traits in a way that is disruptive to their daily life to look into these. You can't generally find them at a drug store, but they're on Amazon for 25-ish USD for a month's worth bottle. Which is really good because when my parents were buying them two years ago or so they were 40$ a bottle.

I have been on all sorts of mood stabilizing medications, psychosis medications, anti-depressants, anxiety medication, etc. None of them worked because we didn't know what exactly was wrong with me. All it did was make it so I couldn't feel the negative emotions properly, so I was constantly numb. What the vitamins did for me is that they let me process passive endorphin exchange and metabolism for the first time in my life, which meant that there wasn't a drastic barrier between me and positive emotions.

I strongly suggest this for anyone who is also just dealing with mood instabilities/disorders because it helped immensely. I'm bipolar two and I wasn't dealing with any major manic episodes while I was on them for about two years, so it helped drastically in that aspect too.

I know this got a little off the rails, but sociopathy is such a hard disorder to deal with, and it's so demonized by the media. Just telling someone you're a clinical sociopath is enough for them to kick you out of their life, even though it has no reflection on your character and is just an outcome of a horrible, hell-like childhood. So I think it's important for ASPD voices to speak up about the disorder when they can and try to dispel some of the awful stigmatization.