#what about not being allowed to properly grieve for your parents

[atopvisenyashill]

Please tell me more of your thoughts on maegelle, maybe it’s cause I’m new to the Fire and Blood side of the fandom but I’ve never seen anything deeper about her maybe being negative. Especially in regards to her mother/family. I’m quickly becoming Saera girlie and I wonder if Magelle’s role in the church might’ve contributed to her sister’s “”rehabilitation”” being bad enough to have her leave the continent.

Okay so the thing here is that she does to Alysanne what Jaehaerys does to Alyssa, which is force/cajole their mother into taking back and living with a man who has publicly humiliated her and made incredibly clear he has no respect for her, but we only really whack Jaehaerys for this. The first quarrel is more personally egregious to me because it's only Alysanne who must bite her tongue here and not Jaehaerys - she is not asking for anything extreme here! Her daughter committed the heinous crime of fucking before marriage, it's been like three years, and three of their daughters have subsequently died, but he hasn't calmed down at all about Saera. Alysanne even tries to compromise by just asking to fly to Lys to visit her and he forbids her from seeing her own fucking daughter. That's an insane level of abuse. And what does Maegelle do? Well she tells her parents that they need to keep up appearances and be seen in public together. Reminds me a lot of show alicent's "you may slap him about as you like at home but out in public we must be united" comment - essentially, Maegelle is telling Alysanne she has to cope with being barred from seeing her daughter and grieving her losses properly to keep up appearances. I mean fuck, maybe Alysanne genuinely wanted a divorce from Jaehaerys. Maybe at that point she was so distraught she wanted Jaehaerys to take a lover, and replace her, and leave her the hell alone so she could be with Gael or otherwise just go to Lys anyways. But Maegelle puts a stop to all of this by invoking Rhaenys' wedding and how they need to look united. Ghastly behavior.

BUT THEN. Less than two years later, Aemon dies and Jaehaerys names Baelon heir. And look, Alysanne is 100% right to be pissed the fuck off at Jaehaerys for naming Baelon - from our several comments about Rhaenys being called "our future queen", the fact that Aemon and Jocelyn never have any other kids, I think the fact that Rhaenys has a dragon as well, all of that makes very clear that everyone is sort of expecting Rhaenys to carry on the Targaryen line in some form or another. Beyond that, Jaehaerys knows damn well that Alysanne has historically been touchy about this - see her comments about little Daenerys. Jaehaerys, with this move, makes it clear that he had never planned for Rhaenys to be queen at all and was misleading everyone. This one is on par with Rogar's nonsense imo because it's so public and everyone knows how Alysanne feels about the succession. He doesn't talk it over with her after she's lost a son btw, he just announces it and takes everyone by surprise.

AND THEN ONCE AGAIN. HERE COMES MAEGELLE. "mom just get over it." And again, what does Jaehaerys give up here? Nothing. He's either sending Maegelle or he's just straight up leaving Alysanne alone and assuming she'll come back to him? It's just nasty. She's losing the ability to walk, to ride her dragon, to remember people's names, she's barred from seeing Saera, she's got a daughter the age of her grandchildren because Jaehaerys forced her to have another child, and she's not even allowed to just spend her last years on Dragonstone being left to age with what dignity she has left. No, she has to be at court, she has to be by her husband's side, because That's Her Place. It's just as smug, just as cruel as Jaehaerys forcing Alyssa to Rogar's side - and the cruelty, in my opinion, is the point here. "You made your bed now lie in it" type behavior, towards a woman who has just been publicly disrespected, who is grieving her dead children.

So anyways, do I believe Maegelle was just as viciously cruel to Saera and that's part of why Saera ran away? I can absolutely believe that yes. I think we see that a lot with Septas to be honest - women who get a thrill out of torturing other women who don't conform properly. Mordane actively eggs on the gap between Arya and Sansa until it becomes a gaping chasm, Moelle and Unella are happy to take orders that involve them sexually humiliating Margaery, her cousins, and Cersei and take a sort of sick glee out of doing it, so I don't think it's exactly far off to say Maegelle had a cruel streak in her that came out when it came to the women in her family not conforming properly. I think we can also take into account George's general distate for religion and Catholocism specifically and the way the Septas work as nuns, and the way nuns were like, insane at various catholic schools. I think there's an interesting play here right - that Jaehaerys can look a mother who put her own life on the line to make him king and hand her right back to the husband who hates her to die having his kids, because he's being vindictive and cruel about her having the audacity to remarry without his permission, and Maegelle looking the mother who has ruled capably and given her the space to be what she wanted to be, and hand her right back to the husband who clearly has no respect for her whatsoever, because she's cruel and believes a woman is not allowed to have differing opinions from the man who currently owns her. It doesn't matter what Alyssa or Alysanne personally did for the two of them; they're women, and they have no right to disagree with the men around them.

[ascendingaeons]

Relationships With The Netjeru: Introduction

Lately, I’ve been journaling about my relationship with Set and it gave me an idea for a series of blogs about the Netjeru I work with. Posts like this were what made me begin properly working with Them. A devotional is a heartfelt offering between a person and a deity. A devotional shared has a way of echoing what sings in the heart of another. I’ll begin this series by sharing the nature of my relationship with the Netjeru and what being Kemetic means to me.

I find the Netjeru to be different from the Gods of other pantheons. They are much more relaxed and understanding regarding tradition and what we perceive as insults or mistakes (Set most of all). I would compare my relationships with Them to growing up in a house with a lot of family members. There are times when we laugh or grieve together. There are times when They must be stern or let me do something on my own. There are times when They are disappointed but that can be forgiven by a heartfelt apology and genuine effort. Other times call for greater formality and respect. Still others are ceremonial in nature or very down-to-business.

I am not the best at giving formal offerings or praying at my altar. I don’t always have the time or energy and honestly, sometimes I forget. And that is more than okay. The Netjeru don’t expect that from me and They’ve communicated that very clearly. They’re more concerned with how I’m doing than They are about regular offerings of specially prepared food or gifts I purchased while thinking of Them. That’s not to say those efforts aren’t appreciated. I would love to have more time to have a practice like that. What I have developed is much more organic.

For me, prayer is more of a conversation. There is no right or wrong way to do it. Sometimes it is as simple as asking for a boon. When my partner moved in with me, I had been dealing with nightmares. I would thrash around in my sleep and occasionally wake him up with a smack in the face. One night before bed I prayed to Bast and asked Her to give me restful sleep so that I would stop doing that. From that night on, I slept peacefully. It’s often small blessings that afford the highest gratitude.

There were other times when I asked for an answer or resolution to a persistent problem to which I received what I thought was silence. Sometimes, for Them to act we have to take, at the very least, just one small step away from our comfort zone. The life we want is not always in alignment with ma’at. The solutions we envision are not always going to work with our highest good. The Netjeru always listen. They are never “too busy” to be there for us. But like a parent, They sometimes expect us to take action and do things for ourselves.

There is one thing that every person has to offer Gods and spirits regardless of their circumstances, but it requires a special kind of comfort zone. Provided consent is given, the Netjeru can live vicariously through you. If you would so allow it, They can taste what you taste, feel what you feel, see what you see, and love what you love. What is yours by experience becomes Theirs. It is the freely given perspective of a life well lived that They cherish more than any other offering.

I work with certain Netjeru in my writing and research, shamanic practice, divination, healing, and ceremonial magick. I’ll give a few examples. During reiki, I call upon Yinepu when I need assistance. I have a specific kind of clairempathy when performing reiki. If a client is in a significant amount of stomach pain for instance, that pain will transfer to me. I’ve learned to work with Yinepu in keeping grounded during reiki. It’s similar to calling upon the Archangel Michael as both of Their domains involve mastery of boundaries. 

When in shamanic trance, I’ve had many encounters with Djehuty and Aset offering wisdom or guidance. I blessed two of my tarot decks to each of Them respectively and the tones the decks have are very different. Set has guided my thoughts while writing for many years, planting little breadcrumbs to each “aha!” and I’ve called upon Him in ritual almost exclusively for as long as I’ve practiced magick.

I love and respect the Netjeru as I would my own parents. Truth be told, They were often better than the parents I had. Like any child would, I sometimes turn my back on Them in moments of anger or fear, but They are always right there… waiting. They allowed me the opportunity to venture off and find my own way. They watched smiling as I explored heathenry knowing that in finding myself, I would find my way back to Them. They were not at all jealous of my dealings with the Vanir.

Such profound trust and belief in a person foster loyalty unlike any other. The Netjeru were always, always there for me whether I was happy or sad, weak or strong, successful or not. They were always honest and freely gave the kind of support I needed exactly when I needed it. They brought ma'at into my home, giving me a sanctuary from the isfet outside. They loved and supported me unconditionally, effortlessly knowing the genuine Truth singing from my Heart, something that—as far as people are concerned—only my husband has ever been able to do. That is why I am a Kemetic.

Dua Netjeru!

[miscellaneoussmp]

I need to write fluff again, I think. None of my wips are that, but I think I need to. Anyway, here's Sunny grieving somebody she never met (cw/tw: referenced death):

To be honest, Sunny doesn't really understand why everyone seems so upset. There's tears and hiccups and sadness on everyone's faces. She can't even properly see the gravestone everyone is surrounding. Even their Pa seems sad as he mumbles things under his breath. He's holding her hand as they stand near the back of the crowd around the grave. There's a hint of admiration in the mumbled 'bastard' and 'how'd he even...?' though. Sunny doesn't understand, and they probably never will.

Eventually, there's enough room in the crowd for Tubbo and Sunny closer to the grave. The fresh grave is next to another seemingly freshly dug grave. There's a photo of a man atop the gravestone. He's wearing sunglasses like hers. The photo seems too happy for the situation. They find themself staring at words on the gravestone.

'Maximus. Founding Member of The Theory Bros., Beloved Friend, Loving Father and Partner.'

She doesn't understand why her chest hurts and why tears sting behind her glasses. It hurts when the realization hits. He would have been her fifth parent. This is the reason there are only four names on their adoption certificate. The adults around her keep saying how it's nice that he's reunited with Trumpet, his son Sunny assumes. They didn't get a chance to meet. Sunny doesn't know why her heart aches . What about her? Was he that loving of a father if he didn't meet his own daughter? He didn't know that they even exist. He doesn't know his name is missing from their adoption certificate. Sunny has everything she could ever want. People tell her that all the time. Why does it suddenly feel like it's not enough? They didn't even meet. Sunny doesn't know him. They could never meet. Why does it hurt? She didn't have a fifth parent. She would never have a fifth parent. She could never have a fifth parent. They didn't meet. He didn't even know that she exists. Is she not good enough?

"Hey, Sunshine?" The crowd is gone. It's only Sunny and their Pa. He's still holding her hand. "Are you ready to leave?" Tubbo's voice is gentle as he looks down at her. "My adoption papers only had four names." There's tears fully rolling down their cheeks. "Wait, what? Oh! Oh..." Tubbo is confused only for a moment. He crouches in front of them and wipes away their tears underneath their glasses. "We didn't even meet, Pa. I don't know him...Why does it hurt?" Sunny asks, tears still evident in her voice. "Princess, I couldn't tell you. Grief is weird," Tubbo shrugs. He doesn't think he's equipped for this. He's trying his best. "We can sit here for a minute if that's what you want?" Sunny nods at the question. She sits in his lap. Tubbo holds them close and rocks them side to side. Sunny continues to cry. At some point, her glasses are gently taken off her face with soft hushes.

When Sunny ready, they both stand. She wipes away any stray tears with the back of her hand. Tubbo smiles at them, trying to cheer them up just a bit. "Ready?" Tubbo is still keeping his voice soft. "One sec." Sunny grabs a dandelion from her pocket. It still looks freshly picked. They stood in front of the grave. "I'm sorry we didn't get to meet each other. Am I allowed to call myself your daughter? I think I would have loved being yours. Don't worry about me, though. I have the most amazing Pa taking care of me. Rest well, okay?" She leaves the dandelion among the other flowers on the grave. Sunny still doesn't understand why she feels this way, but that's alright.

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

frothing at the mouth pls give us the timlex

Okay youre getting my warrior cats au then. Im not sure i ever properly shared about it all. Im gonna be referring to the characters with their cats names, so here is that quick list of our main guys:

Alex Kralie- Hornetkit, Hornetpaw, Hornetstripe

Tim- Maskkit, Maskpaw, Masktuft

Jay- Jaykit, Jaypaw, Jaysight

Brian- Hawkkit, Hawkpaw, Hawkprowl

And heres my main ref for them :3

Okay now to talk

Theyre all a few moons apart, with Mask being the youngest, then Hawk, and then Jay a few days after Hornet.

When Hornetpaw is eight moons old, Maskpaw becomes an apprentice, and his mentor is Slendermange. Slendermange is one of the oldest warriors in the clan, even older than some elders, but he refuses to retire and since hes such a skilled fighter, he hasnt been forced to yet. Slendermange has always been interested in Maskkit, who was an orphaned kit the clan found and brought back to care for. Maskkit was skittish and quiet, but Slendermange seemed so focused on him that he was allowed to mentor him.

During their apprenticeship, the four cats become good friends. They were already friendly back in the nursery with the other kits, but now that they can start training and hunting and patrolling together, they become even better friends. Maskpaw always seems to be on the outskirts of their friendship though, always tugged away by his mentor when he seems to be getting more comfortable. Slendermange is very secretive of their training, and won’t allow the other apprentices to be around while he trains Maskpaw. Due to his training, Maskpaw is led to become a warrior early. Too early, if you asked the other apprentices. It wasn’t fair. He was the youngest of them, why should he get his warrior name first? Hornetpaw struggles to be happy for him when Masktuft get’s his name, and this drives a crack between their unsteady friendship.

When Hornetpaw is eleven moons old, tragedy strikes.

A fire starts in camp, and the clan loses everything. Their numbers are decimated. Hornetpaw’s mentor suffers severe burns, and is rendered unable to train Hornetpaw. Slendermange is killed in the fire, along with Hornetpaw’s parents and several other warriors and elders. Their leader loses more than one life trying to escape. And Masktuft’s body is never found. The worst is assumed.

Hawkpaw and Jaypaw become closer in their grief, losing friends and family. Hornetpaw however isn’t given that time to grieve, because soon, he starts having strange dreams. Slendermange appears to him in visions, a shadowy blood red forest surrounds them. He promises Hornetpaw that he can train him in place of Hornetpaw’s injured mentor, and says that he is a StarClan guide. Hornetpaw agrees, thinking this opportunity was too good to ever pass up.

He was wrong.

The lessons that Slendermange teaches him are cruel. To attack first and ask questions later. To avoid his friends, because they don’t understand the warrior code like the two of them do. He tells Hornetpaw how special he is, more special than Masktuft.

Then, their training starts to bleed into the day. Hornetpaw is exhausted all the time. He wakes up sore, with bites and scratches littering his pelt. He’s sluggish on patrols, and it’s enough that Jaypaw and Hawkpaw notice. They want to reach out, and see what’s wrong, but before they can, their relationship with Hornetpaw is ruined.

They graduate together. Given the names Jaysight and Hawkprowl, before the oldest of the group is even close to becoming a warrior.

The wedge that comes between them seems permanent. Hornetpaw won’t speak to them, won’t even look at them. He trains by himself, sneaks out of camp constantly, and as he sleeps in the apprentice den alone, it seems he has lost all connection to his clan. When his mentor dies from the burns, that is the nail in his coffin. Hornetpaw is entirely alone.

Except for Slendermange. Their training in the dark forest becomes more and more intense until, one day, during Hornetpaw’s training, Slendermange appears to him. Ghostly and dripping liquid shadow, this vision now follows him everywhere. Slendermange’s demonic presence is pressed to his pelt where ever he goes. Whispering nasty remarks about his former friends and clanmates, clawing at him when Hornetpaw doesn’t listen or behaves wrong. When Hornetpaw finally becomes Hornetstripe, Slendermange’s voice is the only one he can hear calling his name.

It’s only a matter of time before other cat’s start disappearing.

The already dismal numbers of the clan get even smaller, as cats are picked off one by one. Where are they going? Why is this happening? With only their leader, a young deputy, a handful of medicine cats and mediators sharing the workload together, and enough warriors to count on two hands, Hornetstripe is the last to vanish. Without a trace.

Its then that Jaysight and Hawkprowl independently decide to hunt him down and find him, Jaysight wanting to find his old friend and Hawkprowl having caught him in the act, blood staining Hornetstripe’s pelt and the lifeless body of another warrior at his paws.

Hornetstripe flees his clan, unaware that he’s being distantly tailed, and Slendermange still lurking in his peripheries. In his new life as a rogue, he encounters the assumed to be dead Masktuft. Masktuft had made a home for himself as a barn cat, and for some reason, allows Hornetstripe to stay with him. There was plenty of prey around to keep them fed, and a blossoming closeness begins to thread them together. Gradually, the shadows of Slendermange leave him. Hornetstripe’s pelt is scarred but soft now, and his tail no longer tucks between his legs.

One night, huddled together for warmth in the straw of the hayloft, Hornetstripe confesses everything he’s done. Shares what Slendermange did to him and made him do. Masktuft does not snap or hiss at him. He wraps his big, fluffy tail around Hornetstripe, and murmurs that he understands more than Hornetstripe could ever know. Satisfied with that, Hornetstripe curls closer, nosing into Masktuft’s fur and purring softly, for the first time in moons. Masktuft gives his pelt a few calming licks, and purrs that he’ll keep watch so that Hornetstripe can sleep safely.

I haven’t decided what happens if or when Hawkprowl and Jaysight find them. But I know it’ll have a happy ending, because I cannot emotionally handle sad endings in fanfiction lol

I hope you all enjoyed :3c

[invested-in-your-future]

What do you think they did wrong with Ruby dealing with her issues?

Long story short - everything.

See, to begin, this connects to one of other pet-peeves I have with the show and the community - and that is people throwing around the idea that "since Yang has trauma we don't need another one one (with psychological trauma)".

It's VERY easy to throw around terms like "trauma" while also inevitably putting bunch of very different experiences together as one and the same.

So first of all, I would like to preface what I am about to say with a pretty simple statement - Ruby's Trauma is not the same as Yang's Trauma is not the same as Blake's trauma is not the same as Weiss trauma.

The way to handle grief is different from PTSD which is also pretty different from the way one would handle a battered-woman syndrome or parental abuse. All are traumatic experiences but they aren't the same.

I think most would agree that a lot of Ruby's issues deal with grief - her journey started with the loss of her mother which she never processed and V3 ended with very important people to her dying right in front of her.

Grief can be…very tricky.

I often like to say that grief is almost "manipulative" towards its host in that it wears many faces - manifesting through very different things within person's life. It's very easy to write it off as "anger" or as "feeling sad', but grief can also make a person feel nostalgic, for example or even induce temporary happiness via that nostalgia. Sometimes it won't rear its head for long while and sometimes, its there with the person every second of every day. Or sometimes a person might wake up in the morning and just not want to get up at all, struggling to find meaning in what they do.

That makes it tricky to deal with it when the key aspect of "dealing" (or rather "living with") trauma is being able to parse and proccess it - how can one process grief if they don't necessarily recognize it? I sort of attempt to reflect that in rewrite in that Ruby might jump from very different viewpoints as she doesn't really know how to handle it and how sometimes specific things being set might set her off too.

Grief is something that manifests VERY differently with each person - there's no magic solution that fits all.

I don't think even "keeping it in the backround" would be as much of an issue - for example it would have been plausible for Ruby to be COMPLETELY happy for entire story up until they get to Atlas and then just within seconds go off-the-rails. Or Ruby could be constantly enveloped in it, finding herself unable to escape - that sometimes happens too - grief is tricky.

The issue is that show doesn't really do either. At no point in the story is Ruby actually allowed to process her trauma or even properly experience it. The show doesn't have her "ignore it" nor "indulge in it". The narrative just gestures towards Ruby and shrugs that she's feeling "some way".

Talking about postponing or ignoring it - a common thing with grief, is that it's very "tempting" to attempt to "postpone" one's grief - "Oh I'll just do this and that, I can't deal with this right now.".

The worst thing you can do with grief is not allowing yourself to actually proccess it - to completely ignore it and to dull your emotions and pretend you haven't gone through a life-changing experience. It's VERY important to let yourself actually grieve.

It sure would be REALLY awful if the end message of a certain volume of RWBY show were to be that you have to just push through and ignore everything in your past and not "dwell" on it and just believe you are perfect and unchanging, even if it meant using a VERY AWFUL analogy to "shed" your issues, huh?

[tiger-moran]

I'm Soo curious to how you interpret Moran through the lens of his relationship with his mother? Like. We all have an idea of Augustus (..All my homies hate Augustus Moran) but fewer people talk on Moran's mother and I want Your opinion ? 💙 -B

I think I have referred to her in a few of my stories but essentially I believe that his mother was as much of a key influence on him as his father was, or maybe an even bigger influence. I think she is the one who encouraged him and nurtured his talents and tried to guide him to be a good person and she is the main reason that whatever he does and whatever he is capable of doing, he's still got his own sense of what is right and wrong and he still has lines he won't cross. But I also think unfortunately she died when he was a child so the loss of her has also influenced him too and caused him to 'go off the rails' slightly and engage in far more 'bad' behaviour but he's still retained a lot of what she taught him, both in terms of his sense of morality and him still being interested in things she taught him (in one of my stories it's playing the piano, I think she taught him to play the piano and he can still play it now. In the modern day AU novel I'm working on it's also her that gave him his love of horses and taught him to ride when he was a child). Also her death I think has affected him and made him even more repressed about a lot of his feelings and emotions, even in the modern day. I don't think he was ever allowed to properly grieve for her - he comes from an era or a class (or both) that basically expects him to maintain a 'stiff upper lip' and 'be a man' and not cry, not be overly emotional, yet he was devastated about losing his mother but he had to basically shove all that grief down inside him, and it has messed him up.

I do think it varies a bit depending on whether it's the Victorian era or the modern day because in the Victorian era she was probably much more pushed into a loveless marriage and trapped in that and little Sebastian was probably shaped a lot by the things he witnessed of that relationship, where his mother did have very little in the way of legal protection and no real way to escape the marriage. In the modern day with the changing position of women in more recent times then she was probably more likely to have genuinely loved Augustus once and I don't think he would really get away with treating her as badly as he may have done in the Victorian era but it was still not really ever a happy marriage and I think that is still one reason why Sebastian does hate and resent Augustus because he may not have been as physically abusive as the Victorian incarnation may have been but to Sebastian's eyes Augustus still betrayed his mother and he was still emotionally cruel towards her at the very least.

I also think his affection and respect for his mother has shaped Moran's overall attitude towards women and is probably a reason why he often tends to be friendly and even actually friends with women even when that's not really considered 'normal', especially in Victorian society (which was very homosocial) but also to some degree in the modern day too. I think Moran is bisexual and he has a high sex drive and he's had sex with plenty of women but he does see women as people not as sex objects and much of that does come from his regard for his mother. I do tend to have Moran being close friends with Kitty Winter and I see his willingness to be friends with her, a woman who is either going to be essentially viewed as a 'fallen woman' in the Victorian era or is pretty obviously a sex worker in the modern day, having a lot to do with his mother and her influence on him.

His mother is probably also a reason why even though Moran can be a very cynical person and in his younger days probably he scoffed at the idea of ever falling in love and wanting to settle down with someone and even though he saw his parents in a very unhappy marriage, he still believes in love and is capable of expressing his love (even if it's not always verbally) and still wants to be in a loving relationship with Moriarty, because he knows his mother did love him very much.

[jaxteller87]

Where I Need to Be 2

I was focusing more on the club than my personal life. Every time a run came up, I threw my hat into the ring and signed up for some open-road therapy. A few weeks had passed before I set foot in the house I call home, even though it felt more like a fancy hotel room at times. Generally, when I was stuck in my head, but that made everything different. I tossed my helmet on the kitchen counter, and from the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a brand new flannel shirt folded on the counter.

“Hey, stud,” I heard Amber call out as she wheeled herself around the corner and into the kitchen.

I chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. She had come down from New York to visit, which always made things feel more homely. “Hey, darlin’! I’m uh— It’s good to see you.”

“You seemed surprised to see me,” Amber looked behind me like she expected me to see a woman following me in, “I’m not interrupting a hot date or anything, am I?”

“What?” I probably looked guilty, but her accusation couldn’t have been further from the truth. “No, it’s just I’ve been on the road. I haven’t been home in weeks, and the first time I stop by, here you are. It’s a very pleasant surprise; the timing is shocking, is all.”

“Oh,” she said, almost looking disappointed. “So, I told you I’d buy a new shirt for you since I ruined the other one.” It was true, and the last time I was home, actually. Opie and Donna were over for a cookout, and after a few beers, Amber thought she was a professional wrestler. Having had a few beers myself, I accepted her challenge. One thing led to another, and my flannel got torn. No big deal to me, I have a dozen of’em between the clubhouse and here— but it meant something to her.

Amber also stopped by the burger joint down the road and picked us up our usual. We sat there at the kitchen table and ate together like we used to do when we were teenagers in love. Through the idle chit-chat and small talk, I noticed that look in her eye, the one that says she has something on my mind that her lips don’t want to say.

“What’s up, darlin’?” I asked, “Something troubling you?”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know what this is or what it will become,” Amber confessed.

“Amber, honey—”

“Teller, please just let me ramble for a minute; I need to clear out some space in my head.”

“Well, in that case, drop your baggage, girl,” I said, sitting back, trying to replicate Donna or another girl pal.

“Cute,” she smirked, “But that’s why I broke things off a few months ago. I want there to be an ‘us’ so badly, and I think about it all the time, but then when I see you, it just reminds me that I’m not in any shape to be your girlfriend.”

“But darlin’,”

“Jax, let’s call it ‘us’ like we did when we were teenagers— no labels.”

“Are you finished?” I asked.

“I suppose,” Amber looked nervous but mildly relieved to say what she wanted to say.

“Well, the truth is I haven’t been with anyone since right after you broke it off. I admit, I got a little rowdy and hooked up with one girl.”

“Just tell me it wasn’t Ima,” I could see the worry in her eyes.

“It most definitely was not Ima. Some old croweater a few miles from Chino. I was too drunk to remember much else than that. I haven’t felt right since and just took to the road while you did you. But like ya said, whatever this is, I’m here for it— whatever you need, darlin’.”

“Damn it,” she mumbled as tears rolled down her cheeks. “This is what’s so frustrating—I’m fine, and then, boom, I’m a puddle of tears the next.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t allowing herself to grieve her parents’ passing properly, and now those feelings were resurfacing. Amber would bury herself in her work to keep her mind from straying into the painful stuff—  but who could blame her? If I lost Gemma, I’d probably do the same thing. 

The next night, I found myself at the club with my ma, taking a break from VP stuff and updating her on Amber. 

“Baby, I wish I knew what to tell you,” she sighed sympathetically as I finished up my story with a sentence about me holding Amber in my arms as she cried herself to sleep.

“She’s in pain, ma. I just wish she’d come home. I mean, I get it—Amber can’t uproot her life; plans have to be made, but, still—I can’t help but think if she were here, surrounded by people who give a shit— she’d be better.”

Gemma smiled, placed her hands on mine, and nodded. It wouldn’t be long before I discovered how severe Amber’s depression had become. I felt like Ma was holding back on her true feelings, which was new for her. She’s always been a shoot-from-the-hip kind of person. The few times I knew of her to withhold her thoughts was when she believed they’d hurt me. Knowing this didn’t make me feel any better. 

Once I got done using my mom as a sounding board, I returned home to find Amber asleep on the sofa with only one light on. Carefully, I laid down beside her, holding her close as we embraced in what she called the “full-body snuggle.”

“Jax?” she whimpered; she had been crying.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Big Papa’s here,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head as she drifted back to sleep.

Sometime later, I woke up alone. Expecting to hear Amber in the bathroom, but nothing. I lay there for a few minutes before I went on the search. As I approached the kitchen, I could smell the earthy aroma of a freshly lit joint, which led me to the side door— lo and behold, there she was. “You gonna share that?” I pulled over a chair from the table and plopped down beside her.

She exhaled and coughed in the other direction, handing me the joint. “Sure,” she coughed again softly.

“Sweet,” I took a big, long drag, held it for a minute, and then blew it out my nostrils like an angry bull.

“I just want you to know; I swear I’m not leading you on. But if you wanna bail until I get my head on straight, I totally get it.” Amber reached for the joint.

“I’m good, darlin’. You need to do whatever this is, and I promise I’ll be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready to call it what it actually is.”

“And what is it, actually, Teller?”

“If you gotta ask, then you really don’t know.” I smiled at her, and she smiled back. 

After that, we went to the bedroom and snuggled up. It was as if my embrace was the only place Amber felt safe, where her demons didn’t scream at her. “You’re safe, Big Papa’s got you, my love,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

The next day, I woke up feeling like everything was good, but instead, I found Amber on the back patio, bawling her eyes out like a kid who just lost their pet hamster.

“Let me ramble for a minute,” she stuttered through her tears.

I nodded, taking her hand in mine.

“Jackson, I don’t know what’s wrong. That’s part of the problem. I haven’t said anything about this part yet— I turned 30, and then I said to my counselor, there’s something else wrong, but I don’t know what it is. I just keep twisting myself up in knots trying to fix it, and the only time I’m not in pain is when I’m with you,” she confessed.

“Shh, my love, it’s okay. I’m right here,” I comforted her.

“It’s not... your... job... to... fix... me,” she sobbed.

“You’re right; it’s not,” I said, wiping my face before she could see my tears. “But I can help you. Let me, please.”

“The only time I feel okay is when I’m in your arms, or well— when we’re— you know,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, sex with me is pretty great,” I smirked, but I instantly realized that she could have taken that the wrong way. Fortunately, she didn’t.

“Oh, Teller— don’t let it go to your head, but it’s true. Only I can fix me. But how can I fix something when I don’t know what the fuck it is?”

“We can figure it out together; that’s what I’m telling you. I’m here for ya, darlin’. I don’t know how you’re going to figure out what you need to figure out, but I’m here to support and help in any way I can. All I know is you’re right where you need to be, and that’s how I feel. Sorry if it’s selfish, but my life is better when you’re around, and I wish there were something I could do to make you see that.”

Later that night, I found myself on the back porch, alone with my drink—more Jack than Coke, as usual. About a month before the accident, Kim, Amber’s mom, had pulled me aside, saying I was going to have my hands full with her daughter when she turned 30. It was funny how right Kim was, but it was also a stark reminder of just how cruel life could be.

[bluegarners]

In your canon

Was Dick formally adopted by one of two years after being taken in as a foster child or much like canon he was formally adopted later in his life?

hiii paladin!!

it honestly depends on the story i'm trying to create, but i typically like to go with the canon version where he's adopted later in life. i have complicated feelings about dick's bio parents because, unlike so many dc parents, they were actually amazing. they were genuinely fantastic and they were dick's parents even after they died. also, the relationship between a young child and their parents is extremely profound and attached. from personal experience, the bond between my parents and my youngest brother is much more... intertwined than theirs is with me. they love me, but the dependence my little brother still has with my parents is a level i don't even approach anymore. a young child and their parent need each other more than an older child or adult need with their parent, and dick's relationship with his parents was at that stage where he relied on them for nearly everything. having that taken away from you and replaced with just basic necessities being taken care of by people you don't know and who don't know how to love you properly is.... scary and wrong

i very much agree with canon in that dick already had someone in his life to call "dad", and just because that person wasn't around anymore didn't mean they didn't still hold that title. bruce adopting dick right after his parents died would be like a breach of that title, even if neither party thought of the other in that way just yet. allowing dick that distance as a child to grieve without feeling obligated to fit bruce into his life as his "new dad", or what have you, i believe is honestly an excellent writing decision in terms of their characterizations at that time

that being said, with the canon of dick being adopted by bruce as an adult... i don't really care for that. although i don't love the idea of dick being adopted right away and made an "official" part of the wayne family, it would have added a much-needed sense of security and stability in his life. i wish dick had been adopted during his teenage years, 14-15 maybe, because dick has now had time to process some of his grief and been allowed time to get to know alfred and bruce beyond how they operate as batman and robin. adolescent hood is a tumultuous time, and more than ever in their lives do teenagers need a reminder of how much they are loved and needed when it may feel like their time in the family is running out, what with the possibility of college and adulthood looms on the horizon. it's especially different with dick's situation as he juggles robin, leading the titans, training and working with batman, an active civilian social life, and school on top of all of that. if bruce had adopted dick as a teenager, dick would have had at least the knowledge that he wanted not just as robin/soldier for batman, but also as a wayne family member

so, i suppose, my canon does still have dick being adopted later in life, but definitely before adulthood

[lovecolibri]

Now that 911 is a (more or less) finished product, looking back on the thing as a whole kind of exposes that it often asked for (& got) more credit for it’s supposed progressiveness than it really should have. Maybe that’s not really a surprise given that apparently it’s core audience is middle aged white people. But let’s review and think about some of the more questionable messages we’ve been willing to overlook in hope of future improvement:

1. Casual sex is bad and people who have it are disrespecting themselves and eachother. Day one.

2. A therapist (in a position of power & authority) having sex with a (vulnerable, emotionally unstable) patient is funny. Nobody will ever call it assault or even admit that anybody was taken advantage of. It will be brought up later, but only in the form of a joke.

3. They gave the lesbian couple the cheating storyline.

4. A bOy NeEdS hIs MoThEr. On it’s own was one thing because in the specific instance of Shannon she was a known factor and it was about re-establishing a pre-existing bond, so you could say maybe they just expressed “this specific character loves and misses a parent he remembers” poorly. But then when you combine it years later with telling the lesbian couple that a BoY nEeDs HiS fAtHeR after said father exhibited extremely alarming borderline grooming behavior…. The combined effect leaves a taste about as pleasant as toothpaste & orange juice. Got it. Gay and single parent homes are incomplete. 👍 Real nice.

5. We can overlook the lack of intimacy with Mavid because it happened at the height of the pandemic (and one of the actors turned out to be a serious antivaxxer), but why so little physical affection for Henren? Six whole seasons and only a couple seasons, and they were only allowed to finally imply that sex successfully happened in a flashback? They get interrupted every other time? Because what, they audience is expected to be the “fine as long as I don’t have to see it” type?

6. Chimney and Buck didn’t need to work their shit out onscreen, after such a serious falling out? Why is that?

7. For that matter writing Chimney out for the duration of JLH’s maternity leave because???? His character is only relevant in relation to her??? Even though he was there first???

8. The Taylor of it all. The show never actually condemns her for attempting to use a vulnerable, high, grieving Bobby for personal advancement? Buck, who loves Bobby like a father, is okay with it?

9. Everybody must forgive their shitty parents no matter how little they try. I think only Toni properly apologized. And Ramon at least expressed general regret and willingness to change. Everybody else was totally unearned.

10. For all the found-family vibes, the show actually never once says that? The closest we actually get is May saying it in 6x11, and Bobby acknowldging it, but that is A: specific to Bobby & Buck only and never brought up or even shown again. That’s the last time their storylines intertwine. Given the repeated hammering on the subject, the ultimate message seems to be that making your own family is nice but blood family is paramount.

11. The last season completely undermined the unconventional family structure that they had built with Chris, Eddie, & Buck. They didn’t have to actually go the romantic route to preserve that. They could have left off open-ended, or even put a bare minimum effort into setting up decent female love interests for one or both of them while still saying “this dynamic is still important and any new person in their lives is going to have to be okay with it.” Because families can look all sorts of unusual ways!

Idk in the end I think 911 missed a lot of opportunities to actually be as interesting as we gave them credit for being when we could still believe they were building to something. But instead they committed a sin worse than being bad, and that’s being boring.

Wow. This is...A Lot to look at laid out all at once. I will say 2 things, one, as far as intimacy goes, the show definitely had more in season 1 and a little in s2, and then sort of went to more "implications". Not sure why but it's been kind of a bummer. I don't expect cable levels but like, *somthing*. And it could be actor preference too, who knows, but it's been pretty across the board (except for Buck of course because KR is obsessed with getting into his pants). We DID see a sex scene with Hen in season 1it was just tied to the cheating thing sooo 😬😬😬 and we got the flashback but boy did Henren get interrupted at every other turn! And, we got Eddie in season 3 saying the line about "isn't that what the 118 is? The family we choose?" but you're right, that thread has been dropped HARD since KR took over because apparently she doesn't like found family.

[londonspirit]

No day but today...

... rather apt today. 

Just saw the German version of RENT this afternoon, and it was amazing! (Go and see if you can.) 

Never wrote my New Year’s note this late on the day. (Didn’t really feel like doing it at all today but then -as always- i just started and here we are!) 

What a fucking year! What a FUCKED up year. What a GREAT year.  As always lately, it’s been all over the place. 

2023. 

The year our mom died. The year we lost the last family member that’s not a sister. Now we’re truly on our own. It still hurts, mostly because of the holidays. You get through the loss, especially if you don’t really have time to properly grieve because you have to take care of soo many things, dissolve the place your parents (and you) lived for the past 40 years, take care of all the things that need to be done, and say goodbye to being your parent's child.

Fuck, just writing this is painful as fuck. But hey, it’s New Year’s Eve - last day of the year, reveling in all the things that happened, so tears are very much allowed.

So yeah, losing mom was just horrible but as always with me there’s a BUT. 

There were the most beautiful friends that got me through this. The most wonderful souls that helped me deal with a loss nobody should go through and yet we all have to. 

I love you all so fucking much, you have no idea!!! Thank you for being there for me. 

Seeing Robbie Williams live again was an amazing start to the year. That man's never been happier on a stage and it showed. (Which is funny, sometimes things come rather late in life!)

Seeing the usual suspects at Fed Con is always the highlight of my year! And this year even more so! 

There were six glorious summer days in London. Meeting and hugging friends, enjoying the most beautiful city, exhibitions and theatre; and seeing one of the most hilarious people who I’ve NEVER thought I’d ever see live. (Stumbling into the MI premiere on my way to the Rhys gig was just a cherry on top of a rather epic gig already!). Hearing the wonderful Elliot Page read from and talk about his book was inspiring as hell; and seeing the lovely Toheeb Jimoh giving a breathtaking Romeo just rounded up a much much needed London trip. 

Here’s hope I’ll be back very soon - it’s been too damn long again. 

Spending a much needed and way too short day on the beach with my darling sister? Fucking priceless - I didn’t even know I needed that as much as I did. We’re definitely doing that again!!! I’ve forgotten how fucking healing the ocean is. 

Speaking of ocean: MORE PIRATES!!! Yes, of course there’s them, to help and heal some more, giving me back all the SQUEE and FEELS that can make the shitty things just a tad better!!! Here’s to an announcement for  Season 3 VERY SOON!!! We (read: the world) NEEDS more queer pirates to brighten our dark days!!! There's NOTHING BETTER to keep one's spirit high!

And another thing I NEVER thought may happen, just fucking happened. Going to Amsterdam with a dear friend for a gig (and some dutch culture) and then just hanging about for shits and giggles because we didn’t have anything else planned for the night. And then actually MEET the loveliest Noah Reid, TALKING to him, thanking him for coming over and getting pics with him? Yeah well, nothing I had on my 2023 bingo card. 

But then again, NOTHING that happened this year was on there so yeah… 

Losing our beloved family cat also hit very hard but he was old and ill. And he had a very loving home despite having to move so there’s that. I still miss the pitter patter of his paws and his enraged meow’s at 5 in the morning. (Yes, there will be a new one - soon. I just want to renovate first!) 

But it’s also the small things that made this year not entirely horrible. 

Random greeting cards, texts and calls from dearest friends to cheer me up. You guys don't even know how much i love you all! I hope I can repay you ALL this coming year because you fucking deserve the freaking world!!!

Spending time with my sister and forgetting the world for one glorious sun-filled, salt-tasting afternoon in the sea. 

Chats and zooms with beloved friends, giggling about silly things and trying to keep each other going through the hard times but also the good. 

Looking back at 2023 with about an hour to go, at home, calm and cozy in bed, waiting for midnight (slightly tipsy because WINE!), is something new for me. Usually we’ve been to the parents for Christmas and New Year’s.  Now we have to come up with something new, something for US, and we will. Next year. For now I can’t wait to see the backend of 2023. 

I have high hopes for 2024. 

Seeing more friends, the ones I haven’t seen in a while, and the ones I see on a regular basis. Because there’s nothing more important than the people around you, keeping you going, holding you when shit goes down and cheering you on when good things happen. 

Traveling more, without the worries which will be a change.

Maybe…finally going to see the Bestie on HER home turf (haven’t told her that one yet, but that’s a thing I want to do!).  

So… 

That’s the annual look-back. Tears were shed writing this, but there were also smiles. Because in the end the only things that matter are the memories we make - good AND bad. 

Again: No Day But Today. 

Hug your loved ones, tell them you love them. Make amends if you need to. End things that needs to be ended. Live your life to the fullest because we all only have this one life.

Make it count, people. Make it fucking count!!! 

Happy New Year. May 2024 be a fantastic one! May it be peaceful and happy, with all the wonderful things still to come!!! 

[your-naked-magic-oh-dear-lord]

Hey, fam. I apologize for my lack of online presence. I have neglected a lot of very dear friendships, missed valuable opportunities, and caused my own self senseless grief.

I want to be more present this year (oh how interesting that I have said this in years past!!) and more available to support my friends and entertain my followers. I feel I used to be somewhat popular.

In addition to the normal hurdles in my life – mental illness, physical disability, poverty – this past year has offered new, additional catastrophes to deal with. The very shortest of it is that my elderly father has wrestled with a persistent injury for two years that led to his having his left leg being amputated below the knee two weeks ago. He is doing remarkably well and despite the trauma of literally having a limb cut off, he is in great spirits, taking well to physical/occupational therapy, and clearly born anew with the pain of his injury gone with the limb.

My sibling and I have been left to run my parents' disaster of a "farm" while my mom stays with my dad at the hospital. I'm exhausted all the time and sometimes I let it all get me down.

Additionally, on October 9th, I lost my beloved Australian Shepherd, Bear, who was the light of my life, closer than most of my friends, and always there for me when I was sick, sad, lonely, or just... lost. After three months, I'm handling it better, but occasionally, I will be overwhelmed and burst into uncontrollable sobbing.

My beloved cat, Toni Stark, disappeared over the summer and I was denied the opportunity to properly grieve the way I was allowed to with Bear. I struggle with that every day and dream about her at least one night a week.

January last year I made my last bid for freedom. I had every possible door closed in my face. I've had no hope for escape since.

My mom hasn't targeted me for psychological torture much lately but that's because she's been targeting my sibling who's gradually becoming as broken as myself.

I'm not trying to bring anyone down. I just want those who wonder what I'm doing to know why I struggle.

I'm going to make an art blog and utilize my Kofi better. I'm going to journal more in my personal blog. I'm going to allow myself to express myself. I go through long periods where I just can't articulate an opinion because I know no one wants to hear it. But I find it's not necessarily about being heard; it's about getting it out into the aether. I deserve a voice.

I did not set out to give such a long update when I opened Tumblr today. But I guess it's necessary.

I love all of you. I do apologize to those of you whom counted on me for support. I want to be a better friend to everyone.

You'll hear from me again soon.

Your friend and occasional ghost, Billie (Sara)

[fimproda]

Hello! I wanted to share my thoughts on some of your takes

-. I will never be able to delete from my mind that ghastly scene (Cecily yelling because Tatiana has taken Alexander hostage) being written THREE TIMES IN THREE DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW.

I never understood why instead of always saying Cecily screamed, writing Gabriel screamed or Anna screamed in the other cuts, which would point to Alexander. I didn't get either the scene that came after and why did Gabriel in general disappeared of the book when it was his kid who was being held with a knife, why all the talking was carried by Will or Gideon who later on admit they don't care of Alexander's as long as their own kids are alright (canon sentence)

CHRISTOPHER SHOULD NOT HAVE DIED. We've gone from bury your gays to bury your scientists

I hated he died but it makes sense, just not how it was done. I read this post on Tumblr (tumblr.com / yourlocalnetizen/757446096447471616/im-upset-we-didnt-get-more-of-a-reaction-to?source=share) and it opened my eyes to see the real tragedy. My take is that this is what causes the downfall of the Lightwoods and why Robert and his parents were so bad and different from the Lightwoods we saw in Tid and Tlh. But I still think it was terribly basically forgotten he died for the book, and even that random Roman girl from CHOI got more sympathize than him when she died

Hello to you!

The answer to both of your questions (and the one posited in the post you shared) is simply that Clare is not a good writer.

First of all, she only cares about Tessa and Will. None of the other TID couples get the same screentime as Wessa and they're never shown to us in their role as parents. This is why we don't get a single scene of Cecily and Gabriel grieving their son, while instead we have Wessa crying over James being abducted by Belial and ending up in Edom. If @zoyalannister wants to elaborate on this, know that I will second her every word.

Secondly, I don't agree with the fact that Christopher dying makes sense. There's no universe in which his death is an acceptable fact, not even if the book had been written by another, better author. The only context I would be inclined to allow is the one in which Christopher's death is flanked by many others, especially Sona. Him being the only one to die and not even grieved properly is just plain stupid, not to mention being a grave insult to the intelligence of us readers.

[percontaion-points]

EatToD chapters 4 & 5

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 4

His hand lowered to my hips, moving over my skin to gently caress and lull me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4 summary: Avery takes Liz to this really large house, and explains that the boys used to live there with Sophia. He then randomly explains that after Hunter’s parents were murdered, there was a bid by the local paparazzi to get a picture of him crying that he couldn’t properly grieve for 2 years. It was only after Avery’s baby mama was murdered that Hunter finally broke down. 

Avery then tells Liz the horrific details of the night his wife/girlfriend was brutally attacked by werewolves, which resulted in her death later that night. 

They then check into a hotel, where Liz demands why Avery acts the way he does. He starts in on this long-winded metaphor about the power of holding a sniper rifle, and how he almost killed Liz that one time. That’s it’s difficult for him to now allow other people into his life. 

Liz then starts ordering him around. He gets her off with his mouth, and then they finally bang for the first time. 

Chapter 5

The night before we were going to leave, James met us at the house.

We’re roughly at the halfway point. There is literally only one thing that I actually want to see right now, and it’s Liz finally putting Garrett down like the rabid dog he is. 

Halfway through this stupid book. 

And don’t get me wrong, because it’s nice that the author has finally kicked the spice up a notch. But right now, it’s kind of frustrating how much time has been wasted on that rather than the actual plot. 

“Where’s Traitor?” Riley had basically taken ownership of my cat.

 “Traitor? She’s around here somewhere.”

 “He is?” I looked around, realizing that she must have come in Riley’s purse. Like always. She spoiled Traitor rotten, but I actually liked it, because she was taking care of her when I was distracted with everything else that had been going on. I called out for her, searching through the room. 

I literally forgot about this cat. 

In my defence, I’m pretty sure the author did, too. 

“What if, ” I was almost afraid to ask it. “What if he didn’t marry her, and he’s waited for me this whole time?” My heart pounded in my chest. “He would feel betrayed if I came back with all you guys and I didn’t even give him a chance.”

Yes, sit down and explain to your harem that they might be getting a werewolf brother-husband soon. 

But my main problem is that there’s too many “what ifs” right now. They won’t know what’s going on with the Aaron situation until probably after they deal with Garrett. 

I looked into the mirror, noting that my face was flushed and my chest was moving in and out in raggedy breaths.

Chapter 5 summary: The next night, Riley comes over so that they can spend some time together before they set off for their mission. Riley also promises to visit them in the States once everything has been settled. 

They get onto the plane to head off to the USA in the morning. On the plane, Liz tells them about how she’d like to fold Aaron into her harem… If he’s even willing to do such a thing. However, before she even broaches the topic with Aaron, she obviously wants their permission. All of the boys are down, so long as they can still have Lizzy, too. However, James is beyond rude about the entire thing, and he wonders why she’d want yet another guy. Which I suppose is kind of fair, but he’s being an ass about it. 

Lizzy is kind of upset, and gets up to use the toilet. James follows her in, and asks her why she lay claim to him, yet hasn’t exactly been including him in things. However, she’s also quick to call him out on his macho bullshit. 

He starts kissing her, and telling her how good it’ll feel, etc etc. But before she can make up her mind, he walks away. 

[nefariium]

luke thompson . cisman. he/him.  *:･ﾟ✧ is that that elijah carstairs , the thirty year old active shadowhunter ? it’s rare to see them without their crossbow but maybe they’re off duty tonight. they’ve been in london all their life , and rumour has it that they notoriously are impulsive, whilst also managing to be quite protective. last i heard , they were for the accords ; i wonder what they make of all this upheaval within shadow world .

I. B A S I C S

FULL NAME : elijah victor carstairs

NICKNAME : eli

AGE & D.O.B : thirty & approx. summer of 1842

GENDER : cis-man

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : biromantic

PRONOUNS : he/him/his

SPECIES: nephilim

OCCUPATION: shadowhunter

II. H I S T O R Y

TW: MENTION OF MURDER

you have been the pride and joy of your parents ever since they welcomed you to this world. as the firstborn child, you were meant to carry the carstairs name and continue to uphold the values and beliefs that the family held dear for the past centuries. you had been a promising child, of course, which made your parents proud - being part of a renowned family in the shadow world, however, the standards were higher. like most nephilim child, you grew up dreaming to become an esteemed shadowhunter, and so you dedicated your learning years - your youth, training and hoping to become just one.

at the academy, you learned so much in quite a short time. you excelled in your studies, and unlike the other young boys who went in at the same time as you, you genuinely liked learning. you spent hours at the library, reading books, learning anything and everything you could learn. it was then when you learned so much (at least, what you were allowed to) about downworlders - how dangerous most of them are, their origins or creations, and why the nephilim have always had an unstable relationship with them. for you, though, it was hard to judge them without really encountering them yourself. and so you remained curious about their kind, sometimes almost neutral to the judgment that your people often held against them.

and then one day, you had been sent on a mission. you were meant to track and kill the accused (albeit, unidentified) downworlder who had been terrorizing the southern part of the city. you were young then, and it was your first mission out on your own - no instructors to assist you, just you and your crossbow. perhaps it was the nerves that got to you first, and when you found yourself only a few feet away from the culprit, you could not bring yourself to kill it. to your surprise, this one looked just as normal as you - only, they had a rather ethereal glow about them. your mother warned you against them and their tricks, of course. but how could you kill such a thing when they did not cause you harm when they easily could?

so you went about claiming that the downworlder escaped - only, you let them escape. what's more was that you somehow managed to get past their guard, and the two of you started to meet in secret. perhaps, you were a fool - not as intelligent as you thought you were, but by the angel, you did fall in love. you fell so in love, you almost forgot that you were treading on a thin and fragile line, between two worlds that should never and were never meant to be together.

for a year, this was your secret - a secret so dark, you never could properly tell your friends about it, either. although they knew your fascination about downworlders, you also learned how to say something so serious in such a lighthearted manner. you never could tell anyone about them, and never did have the chance to for one day, they just stopped coming to your favorite meeting place. it was as if they just...vanished, disappeared without leaving any trace of their existence behind. to say you were bitter about it would be an understatement, but worse than that was you could not allow yourself to grieve about someone whose presence in your life was a secret. they would never understand - or worse, it could be the end for them.

you lived for your family, and so you could never be the one to bring them disgrace. if you were to bring your secret to your own grave, then so be it. but then a treaty was made, and with the accords signed, you wondered of the possibilities that you have always thought of - perhaps even dreamed of in the past: shadowhunters and downworlders coexisting, centuries old of animosity and mistrust set aside. but with peace, usually comes tension, and then war. maybe your hope was that of a fool's, but better have even a sliver of that than nothing at all.

[uniunivrse]

i haven't been here in a hot minute

but either way

feelings dump time kiddos

tw for loss, grief, death by suicide, and generally just bad feelings

yesterday was the first time i properly remembered Sammy in a long time. Sammy was a good friend of mine, and though his actual name was not actually Sammy, we all just called him that anyways.

He was born March 16th, 2006. He killed himself what would've been 3 years ago yesterday, at around 10 pm; according to his parents, they heard a gunshot come from his bedroom and when they ran to look, he was laying in a puddle of what was basically his own blood. Essentially, he shot himself.

Nobody has any idea why he did, neither did I have a single clue why. But yesterday, for the first time in basically two years, I grieved the loss of my friend. I missed how we used to hold hands and play games with one another, and basically spend hours either talking about every little thing in our lives or simply sitting in silence.

He would braid my hair when we were wayy younger, turning what was typically a matted and not very taken care of mess into these beautiful masterpieces on my head. Well, from my fairly young memory they felt like masterpieces, truly they were just typical hairstyles that I didn't really know were typically because my mother had not once cared for or taken care of my hair.

I really loved Sammy as though he were my own family, and I wish he were still alive. I truly miss my friend and wish he could see me now.

RIP Sammy. I hope that your afterlife has treated you far better than whatever misery the living world brought to you before you died.

Yesterday I struggled so, so hard to focus and just wanted to sit down somewhere and hide. A majority of my friends don't talk to me anymore, and the one friend who did notice anything essentially sent me to student services. I don't want to be sent away to some section of the building that I associate with awkwardness and sadness and fear and everything inbetween. I enjoy about 4 places when I need to think and compute and cry, with those 4 places being:

The staircases which no one really uses; they allow me the quiet place I need to process my thoughts.

Corners. I like the feeling of being hid from the world as I speak to myself and try to feel better, even if people wish to help. The corner is safe from them.

Cuddling and hugging, and essentially being in the arms of another human being. I need physical affection to essentially live, and not getting that makes me feel alone and just. Unsafe.

The safety of my room.

I wish my friends would speak to me again rather than my speaking at them and then garnering little response. I'm sensitive, I know, and it's annoying to many people I'm guessing but I don't know how to feel better by myself unless you simply let me sit and process. But even then, the silence practically drives me mad.

Either way, I feel so small and misunderstood in a world of assholes right now. Even if I don't care what they think, I care what I think.

[jamiec860]

Debut back to life

I haven't made a post on my own in 6 years. It's not like I have a following, so I want to think of this as like a diary in a way. So much has changed in my life in the past 6 years that I don't know what a normal year is suppose to look like.

I am 23 now. It feels really weird being an adult. It feels weird mostly when you have a bunch of unresolved childhood trauma and your mind is still in a highschool mind set. I've found myself really wondering what's the point in life. What's the point in living? No, like really? What is the point? Do people just live for other people, just to make sure those people won't be sad and lonely? Well I'm sad and lonely and I don't really see anyone trying to keep themselves alive for me.

Wow that sounded really selfish, but that's what I want to be lately. Selfish. I've been a chronic people pleaser for so long, it's like it's engrained into my DNA. I have to be happy because if I'm not, then it makes other people feel uncomfortable. So then I isolate myself, but when you're not around to people please, people just easily forget about you. Gosh I think I'm just babbling at this point. Let me move on.

My brother died at the beginning of 2018. It hurts still. I felt like I was never allowed to properly grieve because I had to stay strong for my sister and my mother. If I cried, it wasn't around them. I was silently suffering. I had a panic attack at his funeral. I didn't want to see him like that. My brother was the strongest person I knew. He really loved and cared about me, but I knew he wasn't a saint. When people talked about him at his funeral, it felt weird hearing people saying things that weren't entirely true but honestly I don't remember much as my mind was so fuzzy. 5 years later, I haven't visited his grave in a long time. I'm not entirely sure why but I just don't really even think about it much even though I've been missing him more lately.

3 days after my brother's death, the guy I was dating at the time, came over to my house while my parents were away. It was Valentines Day and I thought I could have a nice day with my first real boyfriend. I was wrong. I don't want to say I was sexually assaulted, I wanted to have sex with him, but just not the type of sex we had that night. I remember he came to my house and pushed his way in. The stairs to the upper floor are right in front of the front door. I remember him pushing me down onto the stairs, choking me with one hand while the other hand went for my underwear. The front door was wide open, so if anyone was passing, they could've seen what was happening. Afraid that my neighbor would call the police, I pushed him (we'll call him J) away and shut the front door quickly. I ran up the stairs but he grabbed me and pushed me onto the couch in the living room. I knew he liked rough sex but this day just felt wrong. He didn't say a word. His normally green eyes, were so dark that night. I fought back against him but I think he thought it was game. I remember him putting his fingers inside of me and it hurt, it hurt really bad. His hand was on my throat again and if they weren't there, then they were holding wrists. He pulled me to my room and I just wanted the night to be over, so I had sex with him. I don't remember much before he left, but I remember when he did, I went to the bathroom and saw the bruises all over my body. My neck, my chest, my stomach and my thighs. I do remember smiling through some tears, believing my boyfriend loved me and rough sex was normal. That was my first Valentines Day with a boyfriend. 3 days after my brother has died.

This same boyfriend, then cheated on me on my birthday. When I found out, he gaslighted me into believing it was just in my head. That the girl who was calling his phone, was just a friend from school. Nope. He had downloaded Tinder and met her there. He brought her to his dorm room (he had never brought me there) and had sex with her while she was on her period. I remember her taunting me. I had just turned 18 and I didn't know what to think about anything. I broke up with him of course, but he slept in front of my house in his car almost every night. I threatened to call the police but he knew I wouldn't as I didn't want my mom to know. He would say if I blocked him, he was just knock on my door and talk to my mom. He knew how to manipulate me, how to get under my skin. Thankfully, he didn't really pay attention to me after I graduated high school. He had moved onto the next girl.

February of 2019, I was in the mindset of wanting to give a nice guy a try. I was always a cheerer for the underdog, so I wanted to know what it was like to have a guy like me more than I liked him. I had worked at a hotel and my supervisor and I were really close. I always had mommy issues so I would attach myself to older women to feel some sort of connection. That supervisor had a son and I knew he liked me and I had somewhat liked him. I didn't find him to be the most handsomest but he was really sweet. I remember her giving me his number and I took weeks to actually text him. When I did though, it was literally the start to a whole new life for me. He picked me up from a friend's and we went to dinner at this restaurant that closed down a few months later. I remember I was wearing something so lazy. I was wearing my You Matter 2019 Valentines Day hoodie and some black leggings. He always brought up how adorable I looked. After dinner we walked and talked the night away. He was so sweet and respectful. He didn't even kiss me that night. February 19th, is the day he asked me to be his girlfriend, it was also the night we had our first kiss. I believe it was about 4 days after our first date which now seemed a bit rushed but I liked him so I didn't care. That night he had told me he was a virgin. I kind of figured but it still shocked me as he was 6 years older than me. I was scared because I thought I was going to break his heart and I also thought he was "small". But like I said before, I really liked this guy and I didn't want that to stop what we had going on. We did not have sex that night. The first time Z and I had sex, we had gone on a date and he had showed me this beautiful little town in Massachusetts. I had never been treated so well by a guy before so I felt like I was on cloud nine. Anyways, we went back to my house when no one was home and I took his virginity. It was a great experience for the both of us and I was so honored that I was the one he wanted to share that experience with.We dated for a year and 6 months. It was probably, the best year of my life. I was so happy. I had never felt so beautiful. He made me feel like I could rule the world. He put a ring on my finger and I thought I had found my forever person.

Then Covid happened.

Our relationship did sadly take a turn for the worst. His mom (my supervisor) was immune compromised so we didn't see each other often. It hurt. When we did see each other, it just felt like he was there for sex and nothing else and it took a toll on me. I still loved him and we talked every single day but my depression was getting worse and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I still regret it to this day breaking up with him. It wasn't his fault a fucking pandemic was taking over the world. I mean there were other factors as to why I decided to end the relationship but I knew I only wanted to take a break. I took too long. I took him for granted. He loved me. I know he did and he did his best to love me but I pushed him away.

2021 came around. I had an abortion in June of that year. Z was the father. It ruined whatever hope I had for that relationship. His mother, the person I attached myself to lest then 2 years ago, pressured me into it. All I wanted was to marry her son, have his children and live a happy life with him. She helped me plan a wedding that never happened. I felt as if I had lost my family. I haven't talked to Z in almost 2 years now.

My relationship with my mother was never great. I was a product of an affair. My father was married to another woman at the time and I do in the back of my head believed my mother had me to keep him around. My mother and I were never really close. When I was a kid, I remember sleeping in her bed until my sister came to live with us when I turned 9. My mother really shifted then. She met a man and got married to him. I loved my stepdad but I do feel like because of him, I felt disconnected from my mother. I felt that disconnection well into my teen years up until I was at a point that I didn't want a relationship with her. I stole money from her purse from time to time. I probably did it for attention but I also feel like I did it because I was a teenager and I wanted to hang out with my friends and have money to do things. I will never forget when I was 13, one of her gold watches went missing and she accused me first. I used to wear watches because I wanted to be like my mom, we finally shared a common interest. After that incident, I never wore a watch again. She accused me, called me names, came to my school and had the teachers interrogate my friends. Of course, no one knew anything about the watch as I only wore a cheap pink one to school. I remember the teachers calling my a thief, my school wasn't the best but I'll talk about them another time. My mother had kicked me out of the house and sent me to stay with my sister for 3 days. I didn't know what to do and I hate the feeling of being hopeless. When my mother finally picked me up, I will never forget what she said to me. She had called me a liar and that if my stepdad were ever to have molested me, she wouldn't even believe me and that I better not ruin her marriage. I lost respect for my own mother that day. I was 13. A few days later, she found her watch under her bed. She never said sorry.

I think I'm done for now. It's about to be 4am and there's so much more to unpack that I want to get off of my chest. I know no one is really going to read this, but it feels nice to actually be able to put my trauma into words instead of it just brewing in my head.

Thank you for your time.