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magics-neptunes-things · 7 months

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Hi guys!

After the last one, I needed another with fluff and easy love, so this just come from my imagination. I hope you will like it ♥

Resume : Motherhood is hard, especially when your better half is in training camp far from you.

TW : Little Angst, but fluff :)

PART 2 IS HERE!

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Alexia and you met when she was going through one of the worst moments of her life. It was when the footballer made her ACL. For your part, you had graduated as a physiotherapist a few years ago and were looking for a new challenge. When you heard that FC Barcelona were looking for a new physio, you didn’t hesitate to apply. It was hard, but by some miracle, you got the job. The managers didn’t tell you that the job was for the women’s team, but it suited you even better.

A month after you arrived at your post, Alexia began to follow her treatment after her operation. You’ve been assigned as Miss Putellas' special physiotherapist, probably a bit of a probation. You’ve been warned that she might be difficult to handle, her injury having affected her otherwise than physically.

And it was true, in the first few sessions, she barely spoke. She was polite, said hello, thank you, and goodbye. For your part, you remained calm while being empathetic. As you were told, she seemed even more troubled psychologically than physically and you could feel her pain. So you searched about her favorite songs and you made a playlist for her during your massages or during her exercises.

Over time your relationships relaxed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for the time of day when you would have to take care of Alexia. You obviously noticed her beauty and the aura that reigned around her. A friendship and mutual trust was quickly created between you two and she gradually confided to you. On trivial things at first, before your discussions become deeper.

She told you about her father, her family, her fear of not being able to play again and the difficulties she was experiencing with the Spanish Federation. You were shocked to learn what was happening and immediately felt angry. And the first feeling you had was a vital desire to protect Alexia from all this. And the other girls you’re playing with at FC Barcelona as well of course, since you’re the one who plays nurses on the bench at all their matches. But Alexia was coming first.

The first time Alexia could start running on a machine now, you could have cried of joy and relief. She was recovering well, even faster than the best prognosis. And seeing such a sincere smile come back on her face was something really comforting for you. The embrace you exchanged that day gave you chills you still remember.

The day she returned to the team for her first training on the pitch, you were there too, but in the back. Her friends/teammates welcomed her with big smiles and hugs, but at the end of the training she came to you. She once again took you in her arms and whispered a thank you in your ear. No need for long speeches, you knew perfectly well how much this word meant to her.

While you expected this to signal a new distance between the two of you, Alexia surprised you by asking if you were free the same evening to go for a drink. It surprised you, Alexia having the habit of not changing her schedule meal, back to school or bedtime. But when she stuttered "For like, you know, a d- a date?" you couldn't say no.

The rest is history and here you are years later in an healthy, loving et happy relationship. You even got engaged last Christmas.

Alexia always wanted to start a family and your heart melt every time she was interacting with a baby or child. On your second date, she asked you if you wanted children, testifying to the importance she already attached to a future family life between you two. You answered positively, because yes, you wanted to have children and with Alexia would be amazing.

So, a month ago, you welcomed into your lives Santana Eli Putellas. A perfect photocopy of Alexia, even if you were the one pregnant. Thanks to modern methods, you were able to transfer her egg into your body. It was much easier for Alexia’s career, even though she was more attentive to you than ever.

The same eyes, the same mouth, the same hair, the same face, the same look. Even Eli couldn’t figure out which of the two photos was Alexia and Santana when faced with this plot. It’s almost disturbing, but the idea of having created a second perfection in this world suits you perfectly.

Except that even perfection has its difficulties and you realize it more than ever today. For some reason, Santana hasn’t stopped crying since her afternoon nap. Despite her clean diaper, her full stomach, her usual afternoon stroll or her favorite nursery rhymes, you were unable to calm her down. So much so that you couldn’t even answer Alexia’s messages, who went to training camps for the national team.

Even if this camp is held in Barcelona, the team lives in a hotel for a few days, before flying to Canada for their first match. Your lack of answer probably explains why you find yourself having to answer a call from your fiancée after 9pm. You hesitate before answering, your physical state must be scary and Santana is always sobbing on your shoulder. But knowing Alexia’s protective lioness instinct, you’d rather not worry her any longer.

"Hola mi Amor" you try a smile when a frowning Alexia appears on the screen.

"What happened? Why didn't you answer to my text? I was beginning to believe that something serious had happened to you"

"Don't worry, we are fine"

You were still rocking Santana on your shoulder, putting your phone on the counter of your kitchen. After bathing her, you put on her pajamas in the colors of FC Barcelona and she is currently digesting her second bottle of the evening. Whereas normally she takes only one before falling asleep to wake up at midnight and then around 6 am. This baby is really perfect. Except that today something seems wrong.

"Are you sure? You look exausted mi vida"

The concern on Alexia's face is deep and you don't want to worry her. You don't want her to believe that you can't take care of your daughter for a day either. Alexia only left this morning after all.

"We are fine Ale, I pr-"

"Does the best goddaughter in the world make her Mama miserable?"

Mapi’s face suddenly sticks to Alexia's, certainly so that she can also have a glimpse of Santana. Choosing Mapi as godmother was the best idea, the tattooed one being the most adorable with Santana. A chaotic godmother certainly, but you know perfectly well that she too would be ready to take out her claws to defend Santana if necessary.

"Kind of, but everything is under control" you laugh, before realizing that she wasn't listening to you at all, cooing sweat words to Santana. "Did I suddenly become invisible?"

"Not for me" Alexia answer with tenderness in her voice. "I miss you both of you so much, I don't know how I will survive two weeks so far away"

"You will be perfect, as always mi Amor"

She smiles at you, Mapi having a side conversation with your daughter, and you see the concern coming back.

"Can you promise me that you are fine?"

You bite your lip and sight. It was not fair of her to play the sincerity card. She knows that you can't lie to her, even when you want to make her surprise, you have to ask the help of someone.

"Look, she's just having a bad day that's all. Tomorrow will be better."

Alexia opened her mouth to speak and most certainly contradict you, but noise next to her announces the arrival of other people. You smile when you see Ona and Ingrid appear on the screen, Mapi pulling the sleeve of the Norwegian to almost stick her face to the screen ("Look at her, how is she so cute?").

You greet them friendly and discuss with them a few more moments before feeling that Santana starts to agitate again. Before Alexia can see how bad, you tell them you’re going to put her to bed. After promising Alexia to write to her as soon as Santana sleeps, you hang up and gently lift your daughter to put her face up to yours.

"Now that you’ve heard Mama and your Godmother, maybe we can get some rest yeah?"

After a final diaper check, you enter your daughter’s room and sit on her rocking chair. His blanket between you two, a little melody and a lull, it should go well and quickly.

An hour and a half later, you must realize you’re not. Santana continues to struggle with sleep and has begun to cry again. Seeing her like this ended up making you cry. After walking around your house trying to put her to sleep, you went back to her room. You don’t know what to do anymore.

You were thinking about calling Eli or your mother for help when you hear noise on the ground floor. Which shouldn’t happen, since you’re alone in the house with Santana. You listen despite the cries of your daughter and your hear footsteps, making you shiver. Holding your daughter close to your heart, you rush to the kitchen to grab a knife. Putting Santana safely in her crib might have been smarter, but you can’t bring yourself to leave her alone while a danger lurks in the house. The baby stopped crying, like if she understood that something bad is happening.

The noises of footsteps approach the kitchen and panic fades to give way to a cold determination. You have to protect your daughter no matter what. Sticking your back in the fridge, you raise the knife you hold in your hand, ready to hit the figure that enters the room. But...

"Wow! It’s me Baby! It’s me!"

With both hands in the air, Alexia looks at you with wide eyes less than a meter from you.

"Alexia? Wha- what are you doing here?"

"You weren't answering my text again and I... Can you put this knife down please?"

"Oh... Yes, sorry."

You were shaking. The sound of metal that the knife makes when you put it on the marble of the worktop resonates in the room.

"I was too concerned to leave you both alone."

Alexia confesses with almost shyness, certainly fearing that you would take this information badly. You could have, a few hours before. Exhausted from this day, you carefully avoid your girlfriend’s gaze.

"I’m so sorry I scared you. Can I have her?"

Santana started to squirm in your arms and cry again and you gently reach her to Alexia. With a natural ability, the blonde forms a small nest with her arms to accommodate the little body of your daughter. She calms down almost instantly and only then do you realize you have tears in your eyes. After admiring Santana for a few moments, Alexia looks up at you and notices it too.

"Come here" she says, extending her free arm to you.

You cuddle against her, hiding your face in her neck. Her arm squeeze you thigh against her. Her smell helps you to relax and you mumble against her skin.

"I don’t understand what I did wrong today"

"Probably nothing mi Vida. Just like you said, she's just having a bad day. Let me take care of her and go take a hot shower and put on comfortable pajamas, alright?"

You hesitate for a few moments, but Alexia kisses you tenderly before gently pushing you towards your bathroom. You end up obeying, enjoying feeling your muscles relax under the hot water. When you get out, the condensation masked the mirror above the sink. After putting on Alexia’s shorts and t-shirt, you go looking for her in the calm of your home.

She delicately closes the door of Santana’s room when you appear in the corridor.

"Is she asleep?" you ask, incredulous.

Alexia answers with a simple smile and a nod, before taking you into the living room.

"How did you do it?"

"As usual"

Alexia shrugs while smiling and you sighs. That’s what you did, but you are still convinced that Santana simply miss Alexia. You’d rather not say it out loud, though, fearing it would prevent Alexia from focusing on her professional obligations.

"When do you have to go back?"

You try not to pout by asking her the question. It was the deal anyway, you knew very well what could happen when you decided to have a child.

"Not tonight, I informed the coach. I have to be in training tomorrow morning anyway."

The information makes you much too happy, you who promised not to prevent Alexia from following her professional ambitions. But you cannot hide your smile and you stick against her again, in search of affection and tenderness. Accepting your request, Alexia tightens her two arms around you, allowing you to feel perfectly safe.

You stay here for a while, simply taking advantage of the other’s presence. Alexia’s hands play with the tip of your hair while yours fondle her lower back tenderly.

"Did you eat?" you ask her after a few moments.

"No. What about you?"

You pout and Alexia doesn’t need any other words to answer. You just haven’t had time to swallow anything since your breakfast shared with the pretty blonde.

"Let me cook you something. It’s your turn to go put on your pajamas"

You let go of her arms and put a tender kiss on her lips, happy to have her with you when it was absolutely not planned. A few minutes later, you find yourself cooking a fideua, Alexia’s favorite.

Lost in your thoughts, still exhausted from this day, you don't hear Alexia’s steps coming in your direction. You’re too tired to jump when you feel her arms go around your waist, her lips kiss behind your ear making you smile.

"It smells very good mi Vida"

"That’s good because it��s ready"

You tiptoed to grab two plates, paying particular attention not to make too much noise to avoid waking Santana.

"Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch the television?"

Alexia’s proposal surprises you, but you willingly accept. You sit on the couch, letting Alexia settle against you this time. After all, she too is probably tired from her training. Seeing her eat your dish with enthusiasm makes you happy and you find yourself admiring it rather than feeding yourself.

"You're starring"

Alexia smiles and glances at you, making you smile back.

"Perhaps, but it's certainly by admiring you as soon as I have the opportunity that I was able to clone you" you joke softly.

Alexia laughs and puts her plate and cutlery on the coffee table, as you did a few minutes before her. She turns around abruptly before throwing herself into your arms, making you fall over on the couch. Seeing her so spontaneous with you while she tends to constantly master her image makes you melt. And when she puts dozens of kisses all over your face, you can’t help but giggle.

"I guess today’s not the day to tell you I want a big family?"

Her mischievous smile makes you roll your eyes.

"We’ll talk about it in like two years, if you don’t mind."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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bitethedevil · 2 months

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Raphael and the Devils Tango

I'm sorry about the awful pun (I'm not).

It's time for more ramblings about Raphael (as always, these are just the connections I’ve personally made. Feel free to discuss, disagree with, correct, or add anything you’d like).

I’ve been doing some reading of the Fiendish Codex II (credits to this awesome post, since that’s the only reason I found out about that book).

There’s a section that details the physiology of devils that I found interesting. I feel like it has been discussed every now and again if Raphael feels any sexual desires or if it is simply a tool for him. Well, listen to this:

“But even though they have no need to reproduce, some devils receive pleasure from engaging in sexual behavior. The more humanlike the devil, the more likely it is to feel sexual desire, often accompanied by a twisted, selfish need for love and affection.”

I think we can all agree that a cambion is definitely pretty ‘humanlike’ compared to some of the other horrible monstrosities in the Hells, especially with their half-mortal heritage. The “twisted, selfish need for love and affection” part especially intrigues me. It makes me think of the whole thing with Hope. Let’s keep going:

“Likewise, sexual intrigue provides a motivation for many of the grudges and alliances behind archducal politics. Like intoxication, sexual behavior, with its destabilizing and even chaotic potential, is reserved as a privilege of the mighty.”

It goes on to explain that things like sex and intoxication (yes, devils can apparently get intoxicated but not by the same means as mortals can) are basically luxuries reserved for the Archdevils. All other devils are expected to not participate in such ‘chaotic’ things, as their whole purpose is basically just to please those above them.

This is where I can imagine Raphael as a young cambion, trying to explore those natural urges, only for his dad to take him down a notch and send him an incubus instead. Someone who can satisfy his biological urges but never love him. Also sort of as a grim reminder that he is beneath Mephistopheles and not entitled to indulge in such luxuries.

I’m obviously not excusing what he has done to Hope, but it just makes me think. The crazy possessiveness and extremes he’s gone to so she can never leave (and so that she cannot be freed). What if its his sick attempt at gaining love from someone rather than just him trying to break her down because he can?

#raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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drdemonprince · 2 months

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I am feeling very conflicted because I want to do more activism but I live in a very isolated area, and the one organization that works here that I even remotely align with politically has had some issues with the people it's supposed to serve (immigrants in this case) complaining that it doesn't provide many services needed and some people in it are dicks. Also, the options they have to collaborate are very much not autistic friendly. At the same time, I hate the thought of sitting back and doing nothing -beyond what I already do, which is limited to people I know- because the option to do something is not perfect. What would you recommend?

It sounds as though the organization you are looking at is a nonprofit that provides social services. I would not consider working with such an organization to be activism, usually. They will present volunteering your time with them as "activism," but it's really just free labor, somewhere on the spectrum between being charitable with your time and labor exploitation.

There is very little that most nonprofits do to advance any kind of social or political change of any kind. For the most part, nonprofits function to maintain their own operations, with a side hustle of dispensing very limited resources to marginalized people who will remain just as marginalized afterward.

More on this:

If you'd like to be involved more in your community in a way that feels meaningful and that works with your disability, I would encourage you to think far more broadly than merely joining an existing easily-findable organization. That kind of search will tend to skew toward liberal, nonprofit-led, politically toothless efforts. Instead, think of what you can do to make greater contact with the people in your area who are marginalized and share struggles with you.

Can you give homeless people meals in the park and ask them how they're doing? Can you get involved in your local parks or nature reserves? (there if you're volunteering your time, at least it can be for something enriching and beneficial). Is there a local Food Not Bombs chapter? A local Muslim community center that could use safety marshalls? A local abortion clinic that could use the same? Do you have neighbors who are single parents and need childcare help? Dogsitting? Does the senior down the street need their lawn mowed?

Is there a local Facebook group where you can offer help to people in your community in need? Start saying hello to people. Asking them about their day. Asking about what's going on in the neighborhood. What needs done, who needs help, what problems are plaguing the area that nobody is doing anything about? Are there any local businesses that are discriminatory and need to be taken to account publicly? Are there forests you can help protect from deforestation with tree spiking? Is there a jail near you where you can provide jail support, handing out food and clothes and water and letting released prisoners make phone calls?

Some of this stuff might not seem like activism in the most obvious, in-your-face, picket-signs-and-banners-in-the-streets sense. But it's a lot more impactful than a lot of that is on its own. It's community building. I'd also recommend reading some stuff on the Anarchist Library website about building one's own affinity groups. You don't need a big formal organization to make a difference -- in fact, for many structural and economic reasons, it can be harder to make a difference within a large group that faces public exposure and the risk of legal censure. A few new homies in your town who care as much as you do can do a whole lot of good.

Some reading:

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notabled-noodle · 2 years

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studying while neurodivergent big post

this post is mainly targeted at people who are at university/college and have a disorder that makes studying challenging (e.g. you experience executive dysfunction, perfectionism, concentration issues).

however. some of these tips might be useful in general, so I'm not going to stop anyone from following my advice even if they're neurotypical

preparing for class

in general: do it. prepare for your classes. it makes it more likely that you're actually going to show up (in my experience)

you don't have to read every single word of every single reading. read the introductions, the abstracts, the sub-headings, and the conclusion. you can go back and read the rest if it feels necessary

take notes while you read. they don't have to be pretty, it's just about keeping your brain engaged with what you're learning

bring all your notebooks into uni with you if possible! this way, there's nothing stopping you from procrastinating studying for one class by studying for another class (which is a fine and good thing to do)

most textbooks are available for free or for cheap in the depths of the internet or in a secondhand bookshop :)

things to keep in mind for being in class

uni is not high school. it's unlikely that a lecturer or tutor is going to get mad at you if you bring something to stim with (as long as it isn't super disruptive)

go to class! even if you haven't done the readings! going to class will give you access to class discussions and a general flow of ideas that will help you with your assignments

skipping class to do an assignment might feel like a good idea, but it's actually a very terrible idea. don't do it. it is not worth it

be honest with your classmates about what you're finding confusing. chances are that they'll either have a cool way to explain it, or they'll be just as confused (in which case, you may have just given them the courage to ask!)

you're allowed to just walk out early if you start to get overwhelmed. people won't judge you or call you out for it. it's okay to leave early

general studying tips

association is the name of the game! pair a certain song, smell, taste, or colour with each class, and be consistent with it. our memories are deeply tied to our senses, and this kind of association will help to remind your brain what class you're doing

don't do what looks pretty or sounds cool, do what works. if you like to listen to your lectures as if they're podcasts while you're doing the dishes... great! if you like to turn facts into puns... awesome! whatever works is good!

count yourself in. if you've been sitting around thinking "I need to do maths" for the past however long, trick your brain by saying out loud "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, MATHS!" and then GO

another cool brain trick is to tell yourself that you're only going to study for 10 minutes, or you're only going to read one chapter. this lowers the barrier to getting started, and will usually help you get into the flow and get at least something done

if body-doubling works for you, then do it! organise a day each week to meet up with a friend and study together! you'll both appreciate it

keep your phone in a different room from your studying gear

get one of those content keeper extensions on your computer, and get your best friend to set the password. this will protect you from the pull of Tumblr when you're meant to be reading about politics in Botswana or whatever

essays

read the question! read it again! highlight the important words in the question! read it out loud! and only THEN figure out how you're going to answer it

you can't edit a blank page. whack some words down. come back to them later. your first go does not have to be perfect

organise your notes by theme, not by which article gave you the idea. this will help you to turn notes into paragraphs with consistent arguments

cite as you go. take note of where you found each of your quotes. it is so much better this way, I promise

your essay plan only needs to make sense to you. lay out your plan however you like. again, it's better to have something on the page than nothing

make your essay writing timeline as if you know that disaster will strike the week of the due date. pretend that the due date is a week before it actually is. give yourself due dates for smaller parts of the assignment. whatever it takes to trick your brain into actually doing it ahead of time!!

use text to speech to catch grammar mistakes! hearing your essay read back out loud to you will make it easier to tell when something sounds wrong or bad or clunky

self-care advice

you won't do well on your exams if you're having several meltdowns a day, so you better be looking after your emotional health!!

eat three meals a day if you can. bring snacks with you everywhere. studying makes you hungry, and your brain needs the fuel. carrying around emergency muesli bars everywhere never hurt anyone

have a big water bottle and also carry it around with you everywhere. when you're studying, it can be easy to forget to keep your fluids up, but having your drink bottle on your desk can be a visual reminder to keep on drinking

STRETCH! stretch in between classes. stretch after taking lots of notes. you do not want to damage your arm muscles from typing/writing too much

don't abandon your hobbies during the semester if it is at all possible. don't sacrifice your weekend knitting or your early morning jog. those are the things that you enjoy, and they are the things that will keep you sane once the stress hits

sleep early, sleep often. all-nighters are not the way

this is kind of all I can think of at the moment! I hope at least something on this big long list is helpful for anyone who is studying at the moment. remember that your grades don't define you, and that you are more than just a student!

#studying tips #studying while neurodivergent #studying with adhd #studying with autism #neurodivergent uni student #studying

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trans-axolotl · 2 years

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hey do you have an antipsych reading list or anything like that? i’m trying to learn more about the topic. thank you!

yes!! This is more a list of mad studies books than like, sociological theory from the 60s because disability justice + mad pride is more what I vibe with, but if you want some more in-depth theory recommendations I can do that as well. blanket trigger warning that all of these books discuss psychiatric abuse, institutionalization, and many of them candidly address topics of suicide, mental distress, and sexual assault. If anyone wants more specific trigger warnings please feel free to ask!

Books:

The Collected Schizophrenias by Esmé Weijun Wang: This book is a fabulous collection of essays based on the author's own experience of schizophrenia, and explores the complexities of diagnosis and institutionalization.

Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare: This book is incredibly important to me and explores the concept of cure, what it means to have anti-cure politics, and all the nuances of cure. Truly a beautifully written book and I really recommend it.

Disability Incarcerated: Imprisonment and Disability in the United States and Canada edited by Liat Ben Moshe: This book is an amazing exploration of institutionalization and incarceration from so many different perspectives, including the special ed to prison pipeline, segregation, psychiatric medicine within prisons, and how institutionalization functions as incarceration. This book can be challenging to read as a psych survivor, but I highly recommend it.

How to Go Mad without Losing Your Mind: Madness and Black Radical Creativity by La Marr Jurelle Bruce: I highly recommend this book. It really delves into complex meanings of madness, how that's tied to radical tradition, aesthetics, art, liberation, so much more, and also really engages mad studies and Black cultural studies.

Mad in America: Bad Science, Bad Medicine, and the Enduring Mistreatment of the Mentally Ill by Robert Whitaker: I think this book can be a good foundation for learning the history of psychiatry in America in particular, and although I don't necessarily vibe with everything in this book, I think it is still absolutely worth reading and engaging with critically!

The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease by Johnathan Metzl This book does a really good job looking at the history of psychosis in the context of the United States, the civil rights movement, and how pyschosis diagnoses connects to eugenics and slavery.

Asylums: Essays on the Social Situation of Mental Patients and Other Inmates by Erving Goffman I have not actually read this yet, but it is a classic and it's been on my reading list since @bioethicists recommended it to me!

Open in Emergency: DSM II: Asian American Edition edited by Mimi Khúc This collection of essays has so many different fabulous perspectives on mental health, disability justice, community, and resistance.

Miscellaneous:

Girls do what they have to do to Survive: Illuminating Methods used by Girls in the Sex Trade and Street Economy to Fight back and Heal by the Young Women's Empowerment Project I'm including this on the list even though it might not connect as clearly to antipsychiatry as some of the other titles, because reading this was transformative to me for understanding my own experiences and the ways in which social services like the medical system are not our friends. I also view liberatory harm reduction as essential to building alternatives to psychiatry and YWEP is so completely foundational and groundbreaking in many ways.

Harm Reduction Guide to Coming off Psychiatric Drugs

Cutting the Risk: Harm Reduction and Self Harm I want to add an extra trigger warning for in-depth discussion of self harm and anatomy, including anatomy diagrams.

Asylum Magazine

Mad In America Website--this can be a good place to keep up with psychiatric news in America.

This is very much not a complete list, so followers PLEASE add on!

#antipsych #antipsychiatry #mad studies #mad pride #disability studies #disability #mental health #and obvious disclaimer that i don't agree with 100 percent of every page of all these books #approach these critically and take what works and leave what doesn't!#okay to reblog

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dykementality · 1 year

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forgive me if you're not interested, but I'd actually love to hear more of your thoughts on the maroon arc, what you thought was/wasn't done well. would u like to share?

hii i didnt see this. im gonna apologize right away bc this is not gonna be organized i have talked soooo much today already and im tired lol.

for starters what i think was done best is flint and madis dynamic. its incredibly well played both as individual characters and as representatives of pirates and maroons in relation to empire. their chemistry is crazy and their dialogues are extremely didactic. i also find that flint not immediately viewing the maroons as natural allies but as tools to reach his own purposes and later deconstructing that after getting involved with them aggregates to his ongoing theme of progressive radicalization which i think is also a highlight of the maroon arc in the way it makes it explicit for good that his political stance has done a 360 and is now entirely discordant from the one he had as a lieutenant in every aspect that matters. freeing and partnering with the maroons is expected after that and i dont think theres anything special on that regard. then the shitty parts are essentially everything else. especially steinberg admitting he stalled to really explore the topic of slavery due to not being in his element as a white guy but still not putting black people on the team to do it. this reflects very obviously in the show and makes the entire arc feel rushed and reticent besides leaving a billion loose threads and missing opportunities to appropriately explore character dynamics that couldve been way more interesting (such as silver/julius/flint & madi/eme & madi/eleanor & eleanor/scott) and really engage confidently in the impact that flint and the pirates having canonically sold slaves would have had in their relationship. speaking of julius i also very much felt like it was a tragedy to hinder his presence and had they started it earlier or extended it longer his perspective on war vs. protecting his community as opposed to madi’s for example would have been probably my favorite part of the arc. i know the version in my head of it is. all in all its a vital arc for the story and everyone slayed really hard with with they had i just wish the creators hadnt shied away from all the implications of it. if i had the energy to go look for some posts for u i would bc my mutuals have definitely also discussed this before but alas. thanks for asking anyways feel free to add ur own thoughts or question mine further

#correio

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leggerefiore · 2 months

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🌙Cyllene General Romance HCs🌌

🌕 The Survey Corps Captain barely has a moment to herself. She is nearly drowning in paperwork and whatever tasks that end up across her desk. It is hard for her to truly engage with the bonds she has forged within the Galaxy Team unless they are people she regularly interacts with in her duties. That mostly leaves the commander and other captains. Mostly being the key word there. It was all too easy to find a strange bond with you, a stranger that fell from the sky.

🌕 That curiosity was only natural, but she tried to keep a healthy distance from you. Anything could happen, after all, and she was your superior within the Galaxy Team. Eventually, it was clear to even outside observers that something was going on between you both. Around the time, you seemed to spend your off days helping her with paperwork or meeting up at her private quarters.

🌕 She does not find PDA appropriate at all. Cyllene will acknowledge her feelings for you, but she is still your captain and does not want to make others think she has developed a bias in any way. At most, you get to stand or sit closer to her than she would allow most people. If you are sitting, you may be able to sneak some kind of touch, which also may gain you a glare depending on her mood. The more stressed she is feeling, the more likely she will accept the touch as something to ground her. Silently, she appreciates this greatly.

🌕 In private, she allows herself to be more open. No one else is around to judge or comment. Cyllene is still not the most affectionate type, but there is much more touching and subtle ways that her love is expressed. Eating with you is one, of course. Her hand will somehow always find a way to reach out to touch you. That simple connection grounds her. Rarely, she will embrace you herself. Moments where she feels like she is drowning in stress, all she wants is to be loved and close to someone who sees her for more than the stern captain and swordswoman she is.

🌕 You are free to do whatever to her, too, as long as she is not busy. In fact, you initiating is a relief to her. Your arms embracing her or pressing a kiss to her lips or cheek brings her to reality. Her heart has felt strangely full as of late with you at her side. She does find some of your mannerisms strange. Perhaps it was the culture from wherever you originated (the future), but she decides that she ultimately does not mind. Your arms hold her to you, and letting her feel your warmth in these cold lands is enough for her mind to cast aside any societal worries. She loves you. This she knows wholeheartedly.

🌕 In truth, there are not exactly dates to be had in Hisui, but somehow, you can find something to do with the captain that should not raise eyebrows or draw unwanted attention. Buying your captain a confectionery while discussing work is not odd. It is simply polite. (Of course, she understands your intentions drift away from professionalism. She bites her tongue against scolding you.) Or having her tag along on a "very important" survey. Laventon can only give a chuckle at the sight of you both sharing a walk through a particularly scenic area of Hisui. Your secret is more than safe with him, at least. Or, even, daringly, inviting her out to the icelands to join you in the hot springs present. The last one was a bit riskier, but it was disguised with worrying about her health. These odd moments are deeply cherished by her.

🌕 There is a strange domesticity shared between you both. Slowly, you grow to understand each other without needing words. A simple movement by her tells you that she is looking for a particular paper, or her seeing you make a certain pose tells her that you are overworked. You try to learn meals that she enjoys and make them for her as a surprise break away from the potato mochi. Granted, the Hoennian woman has preferences that are not easily satisfied by the cold of Hisui. The attempt does make her break a rare smile, though. It is these small changes that she adores most. You truly do care and understand her, not just respect and obey.

🌕 You will have to save her from bug pokemon every once in a while when one gets in. The poor woman is nearly out of her mind in panic while you carefully pick up the Wurmple or Spinarak that got in. She seems to both envy and praise your ability to handle them. She almost offers to take you up a rank for doing that but stops herself. Cyllene does apologise for making you see her in such a state and having to handle something like that. When you say that you do not mind doing that for her, you swore that her cheeks grew pink.

🌕 Jealousy is simply not a common thing for her. If she feels another captain, like, Sanqua is getting strangely close to you, she may suddenly find a reason to interrupt your conversation. It is rare that she acts out in such a way, however. She usually does not bother with those sorts of things. Cyllene is confident in her relationship with you and that you would never do anything adulterous. Yet, sometimes, she does fear losing you to someone that you could be more open with. Her insecurity is rare, but when you carefully address it, she does feel embarrassed about her behaviour. She is supposed to set an example for you, and she is acting in such a way.

🌕 Your relationship with Cyllene may be a more elusive and quiet one, but it is clearly important to you both. Somehow, you both manage to find a way to make it happen without causing any upset within Jubilife. You both understand that you love and care for one another, yet greater society would hold issues with any grand displays or actions that outwardly confirm it. When she one day offers an idea for you both to move to the coastlands, you feel excited by the idea. Perhaps it would finally give you both the room to be more open about things without risking the banishment of you again.

#pokemon x reader #cyllene x reader #pokemon cyllene x reader #cyllene/reader #pokemon/reader

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beom1e · 1 year

Text

twenty four

everything about yeonjun was infuriating to you. the way he assumed he had the right to toss other women aside simply because he was arranged to marry you, the way he didn’t care for the kingdom he was going to one day rule, and most importantly, the way he didn’t love you the way that you loved him.

pairing choi yeonjun x fem! reader

genre drama, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, royal au, prince! yeonjun, princess! reader, set in the past (unspecified)

warnings misuse of alcohol, mature discussions, minor injuries, minor violence, a horse dies, large amounts of blood, weapons (daggers and arrows), cursing, slight misogyny, gets a bit heated but not too far, mentions of death

masterlist | next

it was funny how alcohol could change so much. everybody shows their true colours, even if they don’t want to. people cheat, love is drunkenly expressed, confidence is boosted, awful confessions are spilled, mistakes are made. you had once vowed to never let your true colours show, no matter what. it would be more harm done than good. nevertheless, you couldn’t resist an invitation to drink.

just you and the other girls in flowing nightgowns, laughter filling the room. you would sing and dance and knock empty bottles to ground as you clumsily navigated your bedroom on a loop. gossip and the never-ending ‘who is doing who’ updates would be exchanged, your favourite aspect of the night. and much like your present, all of this would be a result of a mandatory ball or dining experience. the need to free yourselves from those obligations always ended in drinking until you passed out, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

the forced smile on your lips faltered for a moment as the boy standing before you looked you up and down. if it weren’t for the required formalities, you would have taken your hand out of his own and used it to shove him far away from yourself. as a princess, though, that was merely a fantasy. you could only dream of breaking character in a room full of watchful eyes.

your father was the king, or at least one of them. the land was split into two separate kingdoms thousands of years ago, as the two families totally despised each other. in a sense, you were the juliet of the story. your mother was forever searching for peace, and convinced your father to make a deal with the rival kingdom. that deal involved you and the other family’s son, choi yeonjun. you were to be married, and the two kingdom’s would be united into one. everybody was sick of war, and you were roped into their need for peace before you had even been born. now you were the queen-to-be, and had a reputation to uphold as their peace-loving princess.

you actually hated peace. you loved bad habits, both alcohol and boys. being queen was something you dreaded, and mostly because it meant being married off to a man who couldn’t care less about you if he tried.

yeonjun was quite like you. he loved socialising in rebellious ways, although he always got away with it. to the adults, he was a prince hard at work in preparation for his throne. to your generation, he was the biggest heartbreaker of both kingdoms combined. it didn’t taint his image, in fact it only made him more desirable. a king who valued fun and freedom over ridiculous activities such as hunting and fencing, and one who everyone on the land had a chance to sleep with. watching girl after girl sob and splutter about how yeonjun broke her heart at your secret, drunken parties always gave you a sickly feeling. how could a man be so cruel? and how come you were the only woman he wasn’t interested in?

‘would you excuse us?’ yeonjun spoke. talk of the devil and he will arrive. ‘i’d like to have a word with my betrothed.’

right, this was your engagement party.

‘of course,’ the man dropped your hand, and you smiled politely before following behind yeonjun.

‘i’m not a damsel in distress,’ you reminded. ‘i don’t need you to step in every time a man so much as looks in my direction.’

‘that man was eyeing you as if you were a bag of gold,’ yeonjun stopped and turned to face you. of course, he had to do this in the middle of the ballroom. ‘he has no status, so he’s not worth tainting your image over. a queen shouldn’t be seen mingling with commoners when she’s engaged to be wed.’

‘i was making polite conversation,’ you raised your voice slightly, before catching yourself and taking a deep breath. ‘i had no intention to sleep with him. i’m not you, i don’t just take every living, breathing thing home with me.’

‘i’m friends with enough of your previous lovers to know that’s a lie, y/n,’ he held out his hand to you, bowing slightly. ‘now, may i have this dance?’

‘absolutely not,’ you scoffed, but raised your eyes to see that everybody had turned to watch you. another forced smile made its way onto your lips and you took his hand. ‘just know i’m doing this for the kingdoms, and not you.’

‘that’s my girl,’ he flirted, pulling you in closer as the band began to play a slower song. ‘now look pretty and dance for the sake of our parents.’

the laughter didn’t seem to stop. you fell back against your bed, still giggling to yourself as your best friend hid her face out of embarrassment.

‘your turn, y/n,’ another girl spoke, running across the room to deliver a freshly opened bottle of mead to you. ‘we’ve been waiting on a story about how it is to be yeonjun’s girl.’

‘well, i am definitely not yeonjun’s girl,’ you pulled yourself to sit up. ‘although, he did refer to me as such at our engagement party. still, it’s only for show. we don’t share a bedroom, we’ve never kissed, i would rather eat coal than hold his hand, and he’s already slept with half of the women in this room. the most i can say is that he’s a swell dance partner.’

‘well, i can say so too,’ another girl spoke, sending everybody into another fit of laughter. ‘and of course, i mean outside of the ballroom.’

‘yes, yes, we all got it the first time,’ your best friend looked at you with pity in her eyes. ‘i think it’s time we left y/n to sleep, she has a big day ahead of her.’

after the room was cleared of drunken girls, you locked your bedroom door and hit your head against it a few times. hiding your jealously behind humour had became a very bad habit of yours, but it was the only way you could cope. you were being forced to marry the boy you had been in love with for your entire life, and he just didn’t feel the same. it was cruel and torturous, and yet only one other person in the world knew just how much it pained you to hear of his recent hookups.

it took mere seconds for the alcohol to knock you out, but it was only a few hours later that you were being forced out of bed again. a loud knock echoed throughout the room before the door was shoved open and yeonjun stepped inside.

you gasped, sitting up and using your silk sheets to cover your almost-bare body. the only thought running through your mind was that you were sure you had locked the door, and that only palace staff had access to the key. the words were about to leave your lips before yeonjun interjected.

‘i asked for permission to wake you up this morning,’ he smirked, closing the door behind himself. ‘from your father, and from the staff. i wanted to get a feel for what i’d be getting in the morning for the rest of my existence. so far, i’m not totally appalled by you. considering the fact that you’re hardly covering yourself with those sheets, especially.’

the sound you let out in response was a mixture of a growl and a gasp. you gripped the sheets harder and tried to shuffle further into them, while yeonjun stood there looking amused.

‘get out,’ you ordered, glaring up at him. ‘we’re not yet married so you have no right coming in here without my explicit permission. my father’s permission is not enough.’

‘i only came to deliver you a hangover cure,’ he brought his hands out in front of him and presented you with an old glass bottle filled with a brown liquid. ‘the kitchen recently received the recipe for coca-cola, so i asked them for a sample.’

‘just leave it by my dressing table and get out,’ you avoided his eyes, waiting for his next move. he simply raised a brow and tilted his head. ‘thank you, yeonjun.’

‘you’re welcome, y/n,’ he smiled, crossing over the room to place down the bottle. you watched his every move like a hawk. ‘and breakfast is in an hour.’

then he was gone. the door closed behind him and you did what could only be described as a child throwing a tantrum over having to do something they didn’t want to. but there was no choice about it, obviously. the servants would arrive shortly to dress you, and then you’d be carted off to village after village in search of peace.

you slipped out of bed onto the hardwood floor and hurried towards the bottle. the throbbing headache was kicking in, and you had all the hope that this would work.

‘your highness?’ a woman’s voice called, causing you to run back towards your bed and gulp down as much of the drink as you could. ‘are you awake?’

‘yes,’ you breathed out. ‘could you give me one moment just to bathe myself alone?’

yeonjun was flipping through an old book and producing different sounds based on how far he agreed with their views. you felt like throwing your knife across the long table and hitting him right between the eyes. of course, you had no choice but to put up with his annoying habit — although you’d bet he was simply putting it on in order to annoy you — whilst many servants surrounded the two of you.

the doors swung open and your father came towards you with purpose in his stride. you placed your cutlery down beside your plate and stood, assuming he’d ask to speak with you privately. that assumption was proven wrong when he began to speak in front of everybody.

‘a maid found an unregistered bottle beside your bed,’ he fumed, filling the room with his large voice. ‘you know the rules, y/n, and breaking them won’t do you any good when you’re queen. i won’t be able to step up and explain your mistakes, and i certainly don’t expect the prince to do so.’

‘it was me, sir,’ yeonjun stood. ‘i delivered the bottle to her early this morning, it was a new recipe i wanted to share.’

your father looked down the table and over at yeonjun, the anger in his expression slowly dissipating. you smiled down at your plate, mentally thanking him for saving you.

‘from now on, register every item that goes into and comes out of your rooms,’ he spoke in a softer tone. ‘when you’re married and crowned the new royals in charge, mistakes like this won’t pass. it only takes one servant for the word to be spread, and for your image to be ruined by the rumours.’

‘yes, father,’ you bowed your head. yeonjun stayed silent, but mirrored your actions.

‘the carriage is waiting outside,’ the king continued. ‘add some layers so you don’t freeze, and be friendly to the townsfolk who came to watch your departure.’

there were minutes of silence that followed. your father’s footsteps echoed throughout the room before the large, wooden doors creaked open and then slammed closed. servants began to whisper and yeonjun seated himself with a kind smile on his lips. it was all just for show.

your mother buttoned your cape at the collar before grabbing your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you smiled sadly and made a silent promise between yourselves that you would keep yourself safe. only another woman would understand the dangers of travelling alone with a man, whether that man was involved with you or not.

‘the king and queen to be,’ you were introduced, followed by the doors opening and the sound of cheering filling the area. both you and yeonjun put on a smile and he offered his arm for you to hold onto as he led you down the stairs. children jumped with joy at the sight of your dress, and women fanned themselves at the sight of the man on your arm. if it weren’t for the audience, you’d be rolling your eyes already.

the carriage was cramped, as always. you never minded if it was just you and your own family members, but being forced to sit that close to yeonjun was going to make for an awful few weeks. on the seat, there was a basket of baked goods and clothing items for the villagers. you wanted to question how the next basket would be delivered, but you assumed your parents would have already thought of that.

yeonjun helped you inside and took a moment to wave everybody goodbye before he sat beside you. you scooted as far away from him as you possibly could and faced the wall.

‘we’re going to be sitting here beside each other for the next three hours,’ he reminded. ‘maybe i can offer something more interesting than the wall.’

‘i actually think the wall will offer much more intelligent conversation,’ you shot back. ‘i want a peaceful ride.’

‘sorry, your peaceful majesty,’ he mocked. ‘i had no idea you were such a genius.’

‘how dare you?’ your head whipped around to face him. ‘i would have loved to go to school. i would have loved to read and to learn, not be forced to practice crochet patterns and piano. do not mock a woman whose only purpose was to marry, because i can assure you it wasn’t my choice.’

‘i didn’t mean to offend,’ he sighed. ‘i’m sorry, truly.’

‘gosh, yeonjun,’ you scoffed in disbelief. ‘i can’t believe so many women want to sleep with you when you famously can’t go three minutes without displaying that you’re a misogynist.’

‘you think too little of me,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘i only meant to throw an insult back at you. i didn’t think about the context, only how i wanted to fight you back.’

‘this marriage will never work if you can’t respect me,’ you turned your head away. ‘i’m not asking you to love me or even to like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. i’m not a joke, i don’t need saving when another man approaches me. i have fought my own battles for my entire life, and i want you to respect that i’m my own person and not just your queen.’

‘i do respect you, y/n,’ yeonjun sighed. ‘we’ve always been this way. you take the first chance to insult me and i take a jab back at you. just because we’re going to be married doesn’t mean we have to act all grown-up from now on.’

‘but i do,’ you met his gaze. ‘a queen has to be perfect. perfectly dressed, perfectly well-spoken, perfect manners, perfect attitude and a perfect reputation. a king merely has to fulfil his duties, and the rest is his business. he can have as many mistresses as he pleases, he can drink any day of the week at any time of the day, and nobody will blink an eye.’

‘and you think i’m going to cheat on you with every woman in the kingdom?’ he laughed. ‘drink myself to death? ruin the image my father created for our family?’

‘did you not invite one of my girls to your room last night?’ you raised a brow. ‘did you not grab a sample of coca-cola for yourself as well?’

‘no, i didn’t,’ something in his expression shifted. ‘i haven’t even looked at another woman since i proposed. this marriage is for show, so there’s no way i’m going to risk being caught being disloyal and ruin the whole illusion.’

‘you’ve gotten away with it for years,’ you clicked your tongue. ‘has all the secrecy and tiptoeing around finally gotten to you?’

‘you don’t know me, y/n,’ he frowned. ‘as much as you’d like to believe you do, you don’t. family comes first for me, and now that you’re part of my family, you come first. i don’t want to risk ruining you or us, so i’m doing the right thing. i’m sorry for spending my days of freedom doing the things i wanted before i would be inevitably made king of two kingdoms.’

‘freedom?’ you rolled your eyes. ‘and what freedom will you be losing as king? i, on the other hand, now belong to you. i belong to you. i’m your wife, i’ll mother your children, i’ll greet the townspeople everyday while you make all of the important decisions, and i’ll never get to experience love.’

‘oh, please,’ he dropped his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. ‘i’m done arguing with you.’

‘because you know i’m right and i’m winning,’ you had to get the last word in. ‘because you know everything i said to be true, and you can’t deny it.’

the first thing you noticed was that it was muddy. yeonjun had dropped down from the carriage already and was holding a hand out to you, but you only stared at the ground and then back at your dress. he groaned and lifted you from the carriage into his arms, before placing you down on solid ground. the women audibly gasped and cooed at the sight.

‘thank you,’ you smiled. yeonjun left your side to reach for the basket, before placing it in your arms.

‘prince yeonjun, and princess y/n,’ the carriage driver introduced, bowing as he did so. the two of you smiled and bowed too, before the townspeople came excitedly towards you. yeonjun watched as you were practically swept off your feet and brought into the village.

the carriage was parked elsewhere. you handed out the food and clothing while yeonjun gave hefty donations to each of the market stalls. the children swarmed around you and tried to play, some of the girls reaching for your hand and asking for you to dance with them. it was a fun interaction complimented by the live band that played jolly music. for once, you enjoyed the obligation. the people loved you and were thankful for you, and that made you feel so good inside. becoming queen was something you definitely didn’t want to do, but you thought it’d be a little bit easier now that you were loved and respected by your people. well, they were currently yeonjun’s people as you were visiting around his kingdom.

‘i think the queen would like to rest now,’ a woman spoke, placing her hand on her daughter’s back to pull her away from the crowd. the rest of the children began to space out, and you looked at yeonjun for help. ‘i can take you.’

‘oh, thank you very much,’ you smiled at the woman, and began following her through the village. yeonjun caught up with you and offered his arm, you wrapped your own arm around his and held onto his bicep for support. the ground was very uneven, that was the only reason.

the sun was starting to set when you were left alone in the room you’d booked for the night. yeonjun began undressing, unclipping his cufflinks and unbuttoning his waistcoat. you choked out a sound of surprise and spun around.

‘what’s the matter, princess?’ he pried as he shrugged off the waistcoat and placed it on the bed. ‘do you want me to step outside to change and raise suspicion?’

‘you could have warned me,’ you huffed. ‘watching you strip wasn’t part of the deal.’

‘these people have to really believe we’re in love,’ he began with the excuses. ‘for all we know, they could be peeking through our window right this second. and i can guarantee they’ll all be listening out for some bed squeaking tonight.’

‘shut up, choi,’ you snapped. ‘you can’t manipulate me into sleeping with you ‘for the people’.’

‘you can’t keep using my surname against me,’ he joked. ‘it’ll be yours in a matter of months.’

‘stop,’ you were furious now. ‘you’re being mean. i’m having my name and my freedom stripped away from me by you, and you think it’s all fun and games because you get to be king. the reality will hit you hard when you figure out that ruling isn’t as easy as you think it is. and i’m not going to become your wife, i’ll be the queen who stands just as tall as you will.’

‘and how easy will that be for you?’ he pressed. ‘you hate responsibility. you love drinking until you pass out and sleeping with the men who fall at the knee in front of you as soon as they hear of your status. you’re no better than me, in fact you’ll be a worse queen than i’ll be king.’

‘if i’m no better, why do you think so highly of yourself?’ you argued, and yeonjun had already spun around to start unbuttoning his shirt. that pissed you off. you ripped out the bows in your hair and set them down, before undressing yourself down to your undergarments.

the bed was going to be yours. you stomped around and huffed as you picked up yeonjun’s neatly folded clothes and tossed them to the ground. he spun around in disbelief and his eyes widened at the sight of your barely-clad self. you got under the sheets and pulled them up over your head, leaving yeonjun half-dressed in the middle of the room. he sighed heavily and moved to blow out the lamps around the room.

‘i wish you would stop fighting me,’ he spoke softly. ‘i don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting with you.’

the rest of his life. the rest of your life. you were going to be trapped in a marriage with no love and no affection. you’d never get to experience sleepy morning kisses or intimate nights, you wouldn’t be introduced to his friends at parties as the woman he loves, your children would never tell stories of how dearly their parents loved each other. he wouldn’t hold your hand or kiss you goodbye, he wouldn’t fix together a poorly made soup when you’re sick or hold you when you’re struggling. a loveless, cold marriage doomed for eternity.

‘excuse me,’ you rushed out of bed and through the room until you were pulling open the door and leaning against it from the other side. yeonjun took a seat at the foot of the bed and he felt his heart ache. both for you and for himself.

it was miserable. you’d never get to be happy, and neither would he. your lives were dedicated to reuniting two rival kingdoms and combining them into one. the whole point of your trip was to convince everyone of your love and help them adjust to the collaboration, not a romantic getaway to test your love. you lived to serve your parents and your people. it was either you spent everyday feeling hopeless and miserable or you sucked it up and learned to be happy in an environment not built for happiness.

you let the tears fall. it didn’t matter. you sobbed and wiped furiously at your eyes, your vision turning blurry after the amount of tears filling it.

‘why so glum, princess?’ a man’s voice, and you gasped. he placed his hand over your mouth and held your arms behind your back in an attempt to keep you quiet. ‘make a sound or scream and i’ll kill you.’

your mother had taught you what to do in this situation. he’ll kill you even if you’re quiet, so you need to kick and scream and cry for help. and when you’re free, go for the weak spots. eyes, nose, stomach, and you know where. you squirmed aggressively and freed your arms, reaching forward to grab his hand and rip it away from your mouth.

‘yeonjun!’ you cried, still flailing around in the man’s arms. he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dagger, holding it up to your throat as a warning.

‘i mean it, princess,’ he spat. ‘i was sent here to snatch you, dead or alive. your father’s stupid for trying to get us to join him, i know hundreds who won’t do it.’

‘that’s not her doing,’ yeonjun interrupted. ‘get your filthy hands off my fiancée.’

‘what are you going to do?’ the man snorted out a laugh. ‘i’ve raised chickens with more muscle than you’ve got.’

you took the distraction as a chance to elbow the man hard in the stomach. his dagger sliced across your arm as he dropped the ground, and you winced momentarily. yeonjun grabbed you but you pulled your arm back and placed your foot firmly on the man’s hand. he groaned while you reached down to slip the dagger out of his grasp. once again, yeonjun reached for you and pulled you back, but you only slipped out of his hold again and returned to the bedroom.

you grabbed your cape and fastened it over your shoulders when you heard more disturbance outside of the room. when you stepped outside, the man had grabbed yeonjun by the collar and was holding him against the wall. you looked around for a solution, and noticed a table holding a single lamp. you blew the flame out and tossed it aside, spilling wax all over the wooden floorboards. as you lifted the table, you thought that maybe the hot lamp would have been a better choice.

still, you lifted the small table above your head and used your strength to throw it towards the man. it hit him over the head, and yeonjun quickly ducked out of the way onto the ground. the man dropped silently to the ground and blood trickled out from the small wound in his head.

‘we should go,’ you breathed out, feeling the ache in your arms. not to mention the sting of the slice you’d endured from his dagger. ‘quickly before another shows up.’

‘thank you,’ he cleared his throat, his eyes full of worry. ‘y/n, you’re bleeding.’

‘don’t pity me,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘i don’t need your pity, and evidently i don’t need you to come and save me.’

‘why’d you call for me?’ that same smirk was on his lips again. the sight of it made your blood boil and your body tremble slightly with anger. ‘if you don’t need saving.’

‘you seriously need a reality check,’ your eyes narrowed. ‘i can’t wait for the day somebody finally ruins your confidence.’

the sound of a door slamming cut you off, yeonjun grabbed your uninjured arm and began dragging you down the unstable stairs. if it wasn’t for the current life or death situation, you would have fought him on his need to act a hero once again. instead, you just followed along.

outside of the inn, a few more men were waiting. yeonjun began to run, but when he noticed the arrows flying towards you, he shoved you aside and ordered you to hide. you caught yourself before you fell face first into the mud, and ran towards the stables. the bottom of your white slip dress was now dripping and drenched in mud, and you had smudges of blood ruining the upper half.

you looked for your family horse in the stables, a smile lighting up your features when you spotted her. in a struggle to unlock the gates, you noticed hurried footsteps approaching you. but much to your delight, it was only yeonjun catching up with you. no words were exchanged as he squeezed his way past you and opened the gate easily. the usual huff or groan that you’d respond with was nowhere to be found, you simply looked at him with thankful eyes as he guided your horse out.

‘you first,’ he ordered, holding a hand out for you. you nodded and climbed up onto the horse. you grabbed hold of the reins as yeonjun sat comfortably behind you. your breath hitched when you felt the warmth of his body surrounding yours, and his firm chest pressing against your back. ‘we’ll be best off going through the woods if we want to lose them.’

you nodded in agreement and pulled on the reins, sending your horse into a hurried run towards the thick woods. the men followed the sound of her hooves hitting the ground, still clutching onto their bows as arrows repeatedly zoomed past you. it was unnerving, the whipping sound of arrows and the thump as they pierced into trees all around you. yeonjun tightened his hold on you in order to calm your nerves. the woods were getting thicker and thicker, branches scratching against your bare skin and tears beginning to form.

‘i won’t let anything happen to you,’ yeonjun whispered beside your ear, but his voice was shaky and unsure. ‘i promise.’

the moment was ruined when your horse stopped and began to refuse to move. you held on tightly to the reins, despite her insisting on throwing you off.

‘over there!’ a man’s voice announced, followed by the sound of more arrows flying past.

the tears began to fall. the horse finally agreed to move, but the amount of arrows in motion was becoming dangerous. you could hardly see due to the speed, the darkness, the amount of greenery and now your tears.

‘let go of the reins, y/n,’ yeonjun wrapped his arms around you waist and pulled you flush against him. you shook your head, letting out a sob. ‘let go!’

it was an order now. the reins slipped from your grasp and yeonjun dragged you down the floor with him. you landed harshly on a mess of twigs and mud, but yeonjun took most of the fall. he coughed, having been winded. your horse began to throw a fit once again, before a pained sound that you’d never forget echoed throughout the trees.

‘no,’ you whimpered. ‘please, no!’

yeonjun couldn’t stop you. you picked yourself up and began to run towards your horse. her beautiful white fur began to turn red from the multiple injuries she sustained from the arrows. she laid motionless on her side, and you couldn’t hold back the sobbing and screaming. blood soaked through your dress and began to paint your hands and arms, and then your face when you tried to wipe away your tears.

‘we have to go, y/n!’ yeonjun grabbed you by the arms and pulled you back, but you shrugged him off and went back to stroking over your horse’s lifeless snout. ‘if we don’t leave now, we’ll both be dead!’

as irrational as you wanted to be, he was right. you felt numb as he grabbed you and pulled you to stand. you didn’t really understand what was going on, your mind was hazy. yeonjun held you behind a tree while you tried to calm down, a hand placed over your mouth to silence your cries. you only snapped out of it when you heard him wince in pain, and noticed the arrow that had just skimmed past his arm.

this time, you grabbed his hand and began running with him. you had no idea of which direction you were running in, just that you wanted to get far away from your attackers. you began to grow hopeless after running yourselves to exhaustion, when you spotted an old, small house not too far away. the coast seemed clear, so you silently agreed on the plan with yeonjun and made a run for the house.

he tried the door handle first while you scanned the area in a paranoid and erratic manner. it was stiff, but he managed to nudge the door open. he grabbed your hand and dragged you inside before slamming the door behind you.

‘close all of the curtains,’ he ordered, and you did so happily. you liked this side of him. he was assertive and put-together. ‘i’ll block all of these doors off so they have no chance of getting inside, but we have to be quiet.’

it was almost half an hour of making sure they wouldn’t be able to break in, and all you could think of was wrapping up yeonjun’s wound. that thought made you feel stupid, because you knew the slice on your arm wasn’t bothering him in the slightest. still, you began searching the cupboards for anything to wrap it up. of course, it was practically bare. but if by magic, there sat some gauze on a high shelf. you climbed up until you could reach it, as well as grabbing the only knife left behind by whoever used to reside here.

‘come here,’ you called softly. ‘we need to wrap that wound up before you bleed out.’

you pulled out a chair and took a seat at the small table. it was incredibly dark, but your eyes were adjusting enough for you to make out the objects in your hands. yeonjun pulled out the only other chair and sat close to you. he grabbed your wrist and turned your arm over.

‘and what about you?’ he sounded tired, the sound tugging at your heart. ‘you’re grieving, y/n. i’ll wrap your arm up and you’ll go to bed, and i’ll take care of myself.’

‘yeonjun, please,’ your voice broke. ‘i’m too afraid to sleep.’

he ignored your words and went straight to wrapping your arm up in the gauze. when he got to the end, he held the material between his teeth and sawed away at it with the knife. then he tied it into a dainty bow, making sure to keep it pretty as he felt you deserved.

‘now—’ he tried to speak, but you cut him off immediately.

‘i’m not tired,’ you reminded. ‘let me do the same for you.’

yeonjun didn’t want to fight. he’d lost all desire to rile you up. he’d seen a new side of you, and his opinion was starting to change. you weren’t heartless, you cared so much about everybody and everything. he’d seen you break down over a horse you’d loved throughout your childhood, you saved his life, and you were begging for him to let you help him.

he didn’t see you as a person, that was his problem. as children, you were an annoying little girl who always wanted to be in his space. as teens, you were rude and could never see eye-to-eye with him. and as adults, you made it as clear as possible that you wanted nothing to do with him. it was rejection after rejection. you’d glare and roll your eyes, scoff and groan every time he spoke. he wasn’t invited to join you and your friends, he only ever saw you at formal events. you were cold towards any man in your path, including close friends of his that he’d grown up with. all of this just painted you as a dark, looming presence in his life. you always had something sarcastic to say, you snapped and broke character easily around him, you always had the perfect insult to throw his way and you wouldn’t dream of viewing him in any way other than the opinion you’d created of him in your mind.

you wrapped the fabric tightly around his arm, and he tensed his arm in pain. he looked down to meet your concerned gaze and he relaxed again, but he was hoping you hadn’t noticed.

‘you’re so full of surprises, princess,’ he whispered.

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ expecting an insult, you pulled tightly on the bandage again. yeonjun grunted in pain, and you felt your body heat up.

‘perfect self defence, stamina for running, you can control a horse, you’re strong, and you know how to wrap gauze,’ he smiled, ignoring that you were totally taking everything he said the wrong way. ‘i was thinking you were just a girl dressed in bows and lace, dreaming of owning a castle.’

‘well, you don’t know me very well,’ you tied off the end of gauze, your hand lingering on the sleeve of his shirt for a little too long. your eyes dropped to the area of his chest visible due to the first few buttons being left undone. you guessed he didn’t find time to fix himself in between all the running and trying not to die. ‘i never wanted to be queen. i love bows and lace, but the new castle will be too lonely and too large.’

‘you have a point,’ he agreed. ‘it was built way too far away from the centre of the kingdom. and what will they do with the two empty castles?’

‘don’t you mean, what will we do?’ you sighed and stood up, placing the knife down onto the table and approaching the bed. ‘don’t you wonder who used to live here? and how come they left all of this behind?’

‘all of what?’ yeonjun followed you, stopping in front of you. you were only inches apart, but he stood taller than you. ‘it was poorly built, it’s cold, and it’s in the middle of nowhere.’

‘it’s quaint and beautiful,’ you whispered, realising there was no need to speak when you were this close. ‘much less lonely than a large castle with too many rooms to count.’

yeonjun grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers. the both of you watched your hands before locking gazes.

‘what would you do?’ he whispered back. ‘with the castles.’

‘schools,’ you felt your body forcing you to step closer to him. ‘education for everyone, no matter their status. every girl—’

his lips pressed against yours. only for a moment, and it was the lightest touch, but it made you feel warm inside. when your lips parted, he was still only inches away from you. he dropped your hand and placed one hand in your hair in order to pull you in again. you moaned into his mouth and let yourself melt into the kiss.

‘i’m sorry,’ you pulled away, eyes closed and lips pursed. ‘i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me.’

‘why are you sorry?’ he leaned to place his forehead against yours, his eyes also falling shut. ‘it’s just you and me, princess… it’s just you and me for the rest of our lives.’

yeonjun didn’t sleep. you’d passed out with your head on his chest hours ago, and he laid thinking about you and the kiss you’d shared. never in a million years did he think he would fall in love with you, but now he was realising he just wasn’t allowing himself to fall. why did it bother him that you paid him no mind? and why did he enjoy poking and prodding at your nerves until you inevitably snapped? because he wanted to be something more to you.

the sun shone intensely through the gaps in the curtains. you whined and buried your face into yeonjun’s chest without realising what exactly you were doing. he lifted his hand and held it over your eyes, protecting you from the sun. he wanted you to keep sleeping, he wanted to keep thinking, he wanted to stay in this small space alone with you forever.

alas, your eyes opened and you were met with yeonjun looking down at you. immediately, you sat up and apologised. he just smiled and stretched his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up above his hips.

‘you look terrible,’ you commented. ‘you’re covered in blood.’

‘i could say the same for you, princess,’ he gave you a lopsided, half smile. ‘your mother is going to hate me.’

‘my mother loves you,’ you laughed shortly. ‘you could set a village alight and she would still defend you.’

‘we should set off to get home before nightfall,’ he suggested. ‘i’d rather deal with our parents now rather after two nights of us fighting for our lives.’

the walk home took several hours. it was easier once you’d made it onto the path, and once yeonjun had insisted on holding your hand so that you wouldn’t fall behind. walking into the castle grounds was terrifying, the stall keepers whispered amongst themselves and mothers covered their children’s eyes. who could blame them? the future king and queen were walking hand-in-hand, covered in blood and in clothing that had been ripped and stained black and brown. not to mention that you were both barely clothed, having had to flee from the inn mid-preparation for bed.

word spread like wildfire and your mother came running out of the castle to see if it was true. she pulled you away from yeonjun and into her arms, checking you for injury. then she ushered the both of you inside as quickly as possible.

you were taken away by servants to be bathed, treated and dressed in appropriate clothing. for the next few hours, all you could think about yeonjun. the way his lips felt, the way his fingertips rubbed against your scalp to send you to sleep, his warm hand in yours, the skin showing beneath his shirt, the way his gaze now softened whenever he looked at you. it made you feel giddy and childlike, and you were kind of thankful for the men who’d tried to hunt you down.

yeonjun didn’t seem to be around. he wasn’t seated at the table for meals, you didn’t see him walking around the castle, and you hadn’t heard anyone else mention his name. a part of you wondered if it had all been a dream.

that was, until nightfall.

the shock of everything you had experienced and the pain you felt every time you relived the memory of your horse being shot down had kept you inside. not just inside the castle, but inside of your room. so when it came to the night, you were finally free to walk around the castle.

you peeked through your door before opening it fully, and began walking towards the servant’s entrance into the kitchen. it was no longer mandatory for use, per your mother’s request, but you loved how quickly it took you into the kitchen. you stepped down the steep staircase and pushed open the door at the bottom, only to be met with a figure standing by the sink. they turned back at the disturbance and you realised that, in all his glory, it was yeonjun.

‘y/n,’ he practically sighed. it was obvious, even under the candlelight, that he was tired. he’d had no chance to sleep, not that you knew it yet, and was too shaken up to do so even if he’d had the chance. ‘i didn’t mean to disappear on you.’

‘i’m not upset, yeonjun,’ he loved the way you said his name when it wasn’t coming out as a snarl or mid-insult. ‘i was worried about, if i’m being honest.’

‘i had to talk with our fathers,’ he placed his cup down. ‘they’re going to put in a new law surrounding treason.’

‘and that is?’ you came towards him, stopping just a few feet away from him.

‘punishment of death,’ he sighed. ‘i don’t have hope.’

‘that’s awful,’ you agreed. ‘but we don’t have much choice, do we? it’ll either do well to scare them off, or we’ll be sentencing hundreds of men to their deaths.’

‘i’m worried that it won’t work,’ he admitted. ‘that they’ll come back for you and you won’t make it out alive this time. then does it really matter if they’re killed for their crime?’

‘we’re protected here,’ you reassured. ‘the world won’t take me away that soon, i’m not done bothering you yet.’

yeonjun couldn’t take it anymore, he’d been going crazy thinking about you all day. he placed his hands on either side of you and kissed you hard to try and portray at least some of the emotion he felt towards you. you wrapped your arms around his neck and reciprocated the kiss, no longer feeling the need to apologise for wanting to be this close to him.

‘and i’m not done loving you yet,’ he mumbled between kisses, making you pull back with a smile.

‘don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with me over the past twenty four hours,’ you smirked. yeonjun felt his heart skip a beat at this new flirty side of you.

he didn’t feel the need to answer, it was obvious that you were right about his feelings. he lifted your chin and placed another tender kiss to your lips. finally, for the first time, you actually felt at peace, and you didn’t feel like disrupting it.

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #choi yeonjun oneshot #choi yeonjun angst #choi yeonjun au #choi yeonjun fluff #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun angst #yeonjun au #yeonjun fluff #txt oneshot #txt angst #txt au #txt fluff

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florence-ghoul · 4 months

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I was thinking about how season 4 would pan out, as we all do, and I was trying to think of how Marlana’s story would fit into such a Hannigram-centric plot. These are my thoughts on an encounter mid-season, where Hannibal doesn’t go through with killing Alana despite having the opportunity. Feel free to use this in a fic if any of this rambling somehow sparks inspiration:

Early on in the season, sometime during their recovery and hiding, Will expresses to Hannibal his personal view on the significance of family connections, expressing the depths of his grief and broken trust of killing Abigail. Maybe throw in some discussion of Abigail’s perspective of needing the love and guidance of parents. This is probably all conveyed in some weird, metaphorical, poetic-ass dialogue. The gist being something about parents and their children. Hannibal listens. Will does most of the talking.

A few different plot points and some time later, Hannibal thinks about killing Alana (revenge for taking his freedom and disrespecting him in season 3). He’s thought about it, but hasn’t actively pursued this (filed her name away in his rolodex). Then, one day, the opportunity presents itself by complete chance (probably the Marlana family taking a much-needed vacation in a cozy bed and breakfast in the same tucked-away town Hannibal does his shopping in). He has no issues with Margot or their son, so his plans only include Alana.

Moments before he is about to reveal himself and kill Alana, there is something that reminds Hannibal of his earlier conversation with Will (maybe Marlana’s son engaged in some behavior/activity that reminds him of Abigail, maybe some imagery in the environment). I like the idea of Hannibal’s processing being subtly signaled to the viewer/reader, not through explicit internal dialogue. The most explicit signal might be Hannibal hearing some echo of something Will said. His motivation for turning away and leaving Alana alive are either because he deems it rude to betray Will’s feelings on family, or he himself has some personal development connected to his own feelings and trauma with family. The main thing is, it isn’t because he has somehow become a better person (challenge: impossible) and forgiven Alana, but because he doesn’t wish to rob Marlana’s son of a parent.

On his casual yet quiet exit, Hannibal comes across Margot on her way in, and he makes a brief, polite comment ("good job on the beautiful family, bro"). Margot recognizes the genuineness of what he says and expresses no signs of feeling threatened. Margot goes on to spend her time with Alana and their son as though the encounter never happened. Unlike what some might expect, Marlana stay in town to continue their getaway as planned.

I’m sure Alana would have rushed her family out of there if Margot told her about Hannibal being in town, but Margot does not wish to unbury Alana’s Hannibal-related trauma (the opposite of their goals for this vacation), especially when she understands Hannibal’s nature and knows that her family is at no risk now that Hannibal has made his decision.

#hannibal #hannigram #margot verger #alana bloom #marlana #post fall hannigram #hannibal season 4 #murder husbands

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running-with-the-feels · 5 months

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Idk if you have answer this, but how those Johnny or Sonya feel about Cassie and Frost?? Feel free to ignore if there’s already an answer!

ooooo I hadn't thought about that yet

Johnny, I think, is all for it, bc he knows Kuai Liang and has kinda been an honorary uncle to Frost for years by this point. So he knows Frost pretty well and sees how happy she and Cassie are together and doesn't have any issues with it. Hell, he'll help them get reservations for anniversary dinners and whatnot, he's totally on board

Sonya on the other hand has a lot of reservations. She just straiight up doesn't like Frost, she thinks the cryomancer is rude and insubordinate and a criminal and does not want her around Cassie at all. The fact that Frost and Cassie initially met in a death match where they almost killed each other does not help. If it were any other girl, Sonya would be fine with it (she's always secretly suspected that Cassie and Jacqui were into each other and refuses to accept that she's wrong until Jacqui and Takeda get engaged)

It actually leads to Cassie and Sonya arguing a lot, which they haven't done in years, with Cassie defending her girlfriend's honor and pointing out how hypocritical her mother's accusations are (Half the people they know are criminals and Frost is actually trying to make a good impression on Sonya and was going out of her way to be polite)

Cassie even moves into the Lin Kuei temple for a bit to get away from Sonya and her issues with their relationship.

Normally, Kuai Liang would immediately call Sonya and get the two to talk it out, but he is also pissed off at the insinuations that Sonya made about Frost so he welcomes Cassie with open arms and turns Sonya away the first few times she asks.

Cassie and Sonya do actually work it out eventually, though it takes a while and they have to have a mediator for the first few discussions.

Afterwards, Sonya makes a point to be as welcoming to Frost as possible and the two end up being pretty fond of one another.

#look I love Sonya #but her parenting leaves A LOT to be desired #frost mk #cassie cage #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11 #frossie

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dykemd · 6 months

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hi bea! i so appreciate how much anti-zionist stuff you’re reblogging, And I want to let you know that this post with the twitter screenshot about the recently passed house resolution and the israeli anti-boycott act is super misleading to the point of misinformation. the recent house resolution (HR 888, “reaffirming the state of israel’s right to exist”) that all except two reps voted for is a non binding symbolic act on congress’s part. it does nothing to codify anything into law. it IS a horrible symbol that erases palestinian existence and i encourage americans to call their reps to express their disgust about it, but it does NOT carry the legal penalties included in the same screenshot of that post. the israeli anti-boycott act (HR 1697 S. 720) that the post also mentions is from 1979 and it was never passed on a federal level - it also would only have applied to government contractors (not individuals) were the law to pass. this is a horrible proposed law but it never passed on a federal level! and the screenshot including both of those separate pieces of legislation together suggests that it is now illegal to practice BDS in the US, which is not the case at all. there ARE a lot of anti-BDS laws, especially on the state level, but the penalties listed in that screenshot are not part of those laws. i worry that the equating of those two separate pieces of legislation could discourage people from engaging in BDS and other important acts of political protest. i fully agree with the addition in the reblog about the US being fully fascist, but the original post itself is super misleading and i would ask that you consider deleting your reblog so as to avoid spreading misinformation. thank you again for sharing such great posts and resources in support of palestine in general and i hope you have a great night!!! feel free to let me know if you have any questions or want more information about any of this, i’m a anti-zionist jew organizing around this and i would be happy to discuss it

thank u so much for letting me know!! will definitely delete it!

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werewolves-are-real · 6 months

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Go fuck yourself anon

This morning I received an extremely condescending ask, where an anonymous person said they were heartbroken by my recent 'pro-Israel' posts and could not in good conscience engage with my works until I learned to have 'empathy.'

I immediately deleted it, because it was idiotic. But here's the thing: I don't usually post about the war. So then I started thinking about what I posted recently that might be viewed as pro-Israel. And now I'm mad.

Here is a list of posts that might be CONSTRUED as pro-Israel (by this person) starting from most recent back to Oct. 7th:

-A post joking about a misspelled 'happy Hanukkah' greeting

-A post about different types of menorahs

-A post talking about a Philedelphia-based Jewish man who was targeted by violent rioters for the crime of.... donating to a civilian-led non-profit that provides free medical services to Israel.

-A post about misconceptions over the names of places in Israel, and how the Hebrew words are fucking old and basically have nothing to do with colonialism regardless of what you think about the war.

-A post condemning the denial of Hamas rape victims, because Hamas are terrorists, regardless of anything else you might believe about the war,

-A post talking about what zionism actually means, historically, since it's kinda a relevant issue and some people use it improperly.

-A post also talking about the definition of genocide.

-A silly posts about Jewish prayer emojis

-A post which I will quote here, actually:

-A post about biased media coverage.

-A post about a Jewish journalist who feels unsafe.

-A post calling out people for only caring NOW, and only getting angry at Israel, rather than – for example – neighboring Egypt refusing to open the border. Because people love hating Israel without figuring out why.

-Another post by Jewish people alarmed by how VIOLENT people are getting toward them.

-A post again pointing out that you can think both Israel and Hamas are doing bad things, actually.

-A post where I lament that I can't post the next chapter of Without Reason because it included a scene with a synagogue and there's no way I can post it without people assuming it's some sort of commentary on the war.

-A post I can't rapidly summarize but that basically criticizes people being callous and, again, anti-semitic while pretending anti-semitism doesn't exist.

That's it, that's all I can find in a quick search since Oct. 7th. You might notice that none of these are really explicitly pro-Israel. In fact, most of them aren't about Israel at all, and they certainly don't demonize Palestine. So what I'm gathering is that this anon is deeply hurt by my posts about *checks notes* – Jewish holidays, Jewish terminology, and rising anti-semitism.

And a desire for people to calm down and use nuance in their discussions, which I guess is scary to some folks.

My most recent posts are about the holidays. If you cannot read a 'happy hanukkah' message without conflating your political anger – about a war on the other side of the world - with anger toward all Jewish people, I am asking you to examine YOUR lack of empathy, and particularly why it does not extend toward Jews.

And if you don't want to 'engage with my work,' great! I don't write to entertain anti-semites :) So get the fuck away from me.

#i don't know why anyone cares about the political views of some rando fic writer anyway #much less feels a need to virtue signal about it #but if you care #my main opinion is that the situation is fucking complex #and no i will not elaborate #because the internet hates nuance and rational discussion and I don't care enough about the opinions of anyone here to start a fight #also LOL at the idea I should care about someone not reading my works #if you think 'well NOW the author will surely reconsider' that's frankly much more insulting #in what it implies about the strength of my moral stances #fuck off

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switchcase · 5 months

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hello! please feel free to ignore this question if it makes you uncomfortable, i totally respect it if this isn’t something you want to talk about or get into.

i’ve been seeing the sentiment that the ISSTD is “corrupt and not to be trusted,” almost always tied to discussion of asserting that recovery of repressed memories isn’t “real” or that ritual abuse “isn’t real.” i’ve also seen folks tie this into accusations of antisemitism on the part of the ISSTD for validating victims of RAMCOA. (i apologize that i do not have screenshots of nor links to these posts so please feel free to take what i say here with a grain of salt, i understand that it’s on me to substantiate my claims and i don’t have anything on hand to do so.)

may i ask what your thoughts or feelings on this are? i only ask because you are clearly extremely well read on this subject in addition to your lived experiences, and i’ve been having a really difficult time just trying to wrestle with it on my own. i genuinely hope my asking you this isn’t disrespectful, and if it is, then i sincerely and deeply apologize and want to reiterate that i respect your right to not answer this or deal with it. i don’t want to be cruel or intrusive to you at all. i would appreciate your insight if you’re able and willing to give it, but if not then i understand completely, and in either case i hope you’re having a good day and i wish you the best. your blog has been very helpful to me in getting a better understanding of all types of disabilities, not just DID, and i’m deeply appreciative of everything you do here.

This isn't disrespectful at all and is a very good question to ask! My answer will be very long because it's complicated.

Specifically the phrasing of "corrupt" for the ISSTD in regards to memory recall and RA stems in large part from TST and Grey Faction wording who launched multiple harassment campaigns against the ISSTD, specific therapists, and individual survivors. In all honesty TST engages in a lot of shock-value and primarily antitheistic politics (eg the "become a Satanist so you can say you have religious reasons for abortion" thing as if actively pairing abortion = Satanist is At All a good idea in a predominantly Christian society), and their primary reason for proposing this is that decades ago, the term used for ALL forms of RAMCOA was "SRA". It was an umbrella term for all forms of extreme abuse (because the first ones to be noticed by the psych field were cult and religious abuse survivors) and was frequently disclaimered as not necessarily being related to cults or Satanism until the various name changes for the abuse type came into play (RA, RAT, severe sadistic abuse, etc). But mainstream society assumes that RA = Satanic cult, in part because of the original usage of the umbrella term, in part because of Satanic Panic, in part because they misunderstand "ritual" as in the occult definition and not "ritual" as in "methodical" in the same way that OCD is described. Either way, TST and Grey Faction jumped on this. Also, it is just kind of weird to me to associate a research journal as having certain collective thoughts and ideologies. They don't. It's a place to submit, publish, and read research papers, and a place to get CE credits if you want to pay extra for that. There are people who know each other and work together sure, but also a lot of them do not know each other and a lot of them disagree with each other. They aren't really much different from any other research journal like The Astronomical Journal.

Recovered memory discourse began for two reasons: 1) when this issue started, which was around when mandatory reporting of abuse became the law in the states, the psych field did not have a protocol for how to handle missing memories or court abuse cases especially where children were involved. This meant that therapists, investigators, and lawyers often used leading questions or asked directly about certain things, and those types of questions are now known to be able to mess with someone's recall (eg, "what were they wearing" vs "was he wearing a blue sweater"). They did this especially due to the time crunch in court cases where they felt they couldn't afford to wait for the memories to come back on their own. 2) abused children who had become adults started suing their parents (successfully) for their child abuse, and this led to the creation of the mostly parent and nonprofessional group False Memory Syndrome Foundation. They did exactly zero science but were very loud about how unfair it was that they were getting sued by their kids, and it led to this becoming a mainstream thought that ended up being researched by others. There is no evidence that FMS is at all true and recovered memory research shows accuracy is actually very high so long as someone remembers it organically and hasn't been manipulated (by accident or on purpose) into it. (Incidentally also why I deeply hate it when people in trauma circles label others' experiences for them)

As far as the antisemitism. In psychology textbooks and papers and so forth: I really, really need people to understand that a psychologist writing down what their patient believes has nothing to do with whether they actually think that's accurate. Outside of the academic texts: I really, really need people to ask themselves why they think groups of people willing to abuse and torture other people as a collective would have progressive, unproblematic worldviews and believe people should have rights. The type of person that devalues others' lives to the point of being able to torture someone else of their own volition is most likely going to have certain views of who is "worthy" of existence and who is "worthy" of having power over others. They will also feed these ideologies to their victims. Whether because they genuinely believe this OR because they are deliberately making sure that if their victims talk, they will not be believed and will just be perceived as crazy. Again, group that tortures people, lying is not exactly going to be taboo to them. Especially when it comes to preventing victims from running away, saying shit like "oh the entire city/the cops/the govt knows we're doing this, they'll just bring you back if you run" is effective at intimidating, creating despair, and causing submission and simultaneously sounds like a conspiracy when a survivor says "the government and all politicians are in on my abuse." They don't even have to be an organized group to pull that, I've seen people with parents or in DV situations where they'll claim they're buddies with cops/judges so you can't report them or they'll threaten to call the cops on their victim. And honestly also: survivors can simply be bigoted. Doesn't mean they were never abused or that they're lying about their abuse just because they exhibit poor behavior or harmful beliefs. Otherwise a lot of the DID community and a lot of people in trauma spaces in general would magically become trauma free.

My stance on this is that I don't surround myself with people who are engaging in harmful behaviors, regardless of their rhymes or reasons for it or whether I can sympathize. This is not limited to bigoted beliefs, but includes things like paranoid beliefs, lashing out frequently, emotional regulation issues in general, people who have no ability to set boundaries, etc. (I am not trying to say bigotry is equivalent to these other behaviors, simply that I do not stop at avoiding bigotry) The cause of behavior can be understood without being tolerated. It is not conducive to my own recovery to do so, particularly because the things they say are often triggering for me as someone who used to have extremely paranoid beliefs that I was fed, as well as my own group having been white supremacist in nature and much of my abuse having a racialized aspect to it. Whether they improve or not does not affect me. I hope they do change and grow, but I do not tie myself to people in the hopes that they'll change. People will only change if they themselves want to.

I hope this is helpful for you.

#ask #anonymous #ramcoa

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hiatuswhore · 1 year

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This is not a love story — Jacaerys AU

♡ A/N: I’ve been going back into my drafts looking for some inspiration and I was really on a modern HOTD kick for a while. I have no personal experience with addiction so if you see something that you feel is a cliché or stigma please feel free to reach out! Please give me feedback, kisses.

♡ SUMMARY: Recidivism, by definition is the tendency of a convicted criminal to reoffend. Back into the sea that is every day life will you swim your new life or sink with your past?

♡ WORD COUNT: 2.8K

♡ WARNING: Harsh language and talk of addiction.

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YOU CHEW ON THE TORN JAW STRING OF YOUR STAINED HOODIE. The facility detergent barely masks the heavy cigarette coat and does little against the stains. You drum your fingers against the edge of your bed. The jeans you arrived in no longer fit right, and the plastic bag from the attendants contains very few things: a crumpled dollar, your driver's license, and a seahorse bracelet. Your blank stare’s cold, and you eye the bag without a word. A light tap at your door brings you back from the far corners of your mind. You stuff all three items deep into your jeans pockets before muttering come in.

“(Y/n). It’s time to go,” Jon says. The patient-nurse aide holds an encouraging smile at your hesitant stare. After a few seconds, you rise to your feet. You glance around the room, studying every detail. From the plastered hole made on your first night in the facility to the wooden panels, they reset during your attempts to hide pills in the floor. Jon sighs softly, joining your side with a warm smile, “You’re gonna do great out there; I just know it.”

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” You mutter dryly. Jon chuckles softly before walking back to the door. You sourly follow, scanning the many passing faces. Dr. Tarly offers joyous words of being proud as he passes, to which you roll your eyes, “Whatever you say, Sam.”

You do not look back as he corrects how you address him. At this hour, most patients are free to roam, and room doors are open. She takes in the faces of the many lost souls in different journey stages. Jon says nothing as he leads the way, nodding politely to others. He leads her into the counseling area. Dr. Velaryon sits in his office with the same pride Dr. Tarly wore. Jon excuses himself, congratulating you a final time.

“You’re gonna say something cheesy, aren’t you?” You grumble as Dr. Velaryon’s smile widens. A poor joke and a short monologue of being proud later, you close your eyes, imitating loud snores.

“Alright, alright. As you know, we discussed discharge plans, but you provided me with nothing. Though you’re eighteen, you’re still practically a kid, and it would do no good to send you out into the world without support,” Dr. Velaryon says as you bounce on the balls of your feet. You stand behind the chair, placing your hands in your hoodie pockets. The rise and drop of your shoulders match your wandering eyes as you inspect the photos on his wall. “In addition to our previously discussed—“

“Is that your sister who is taking me in?” You ask it’s clear you are not listening. Your eyes stay on the large portrait next to his diploma. Dr. Velaryon and his sister stand together in cap and gowns with what can be assumed to be their parents.

“Yes, that is Laena. She has a doctorate in social work and is the director of Driftmark Children and Youth Services. So when I was arranging some out-of-facility services, she volunteered to present as a permanency resource. (Y/n) I need you to focus on the stipulations of your probation. You will receive information on your parole officer by the end of the week. You cannot miss a single narcotics anonymous meeting. There will be random urinalysis screenings. Every single one has to return negative. Find a sponsor and meet with them regularly and engage in counseling. If not, you violate your parole. The alternative to your release is prison,” Dr. Velaryon speaks with a softness to his tone. You nod along, sighing quietly.

“Can I do therapy with you?” You speak barely above a whisper, keeping your gaze low. Dr. Velaryon sighs. You do not hear a word of his explanation. Your jaw clenches as you glare daggers catching snippets of his monologue on ethics and dual relationships.

“(Y/n) I promise you Dr. Seaworth is a great therapist. I asked my sister to give me updates on your progress. Me and the staff here are rooting for you,” Dr. Velaryon exudes nothing but warmth. He says nothing briefly, maintaining a smile as you glare. After a few moments, your glare breaks with the sucking of your teeth. You cross your arms leaning back on the far wall. Dr. Velaryon keeps his eyes on you and watches as your stern glare dissolves slowly. Your lip purses, your leg bouncing at a steady pace.

“I’m never going to make it out there. You’re wasting your time,” You stare down at your hands, picking away at the sides of your nails. The fiery red color stares back at you, red and puffy.

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Velaryon asks softly, earning a mirthless chuckle. You frown, still eyeing your fingers.

“Here I have someone constantly up my ass. Someone tells me when to wake up, sleep, and socialize. All I know to do is pop pills and lay on my back,” Your lip quivers faintly, your flat tone filling the medium office.

“Really? Because I’ve never met someone who could find so many ways to tell me to fuck off. You’re really good at reading social interactions and freakishly good at math. You have grit and a determination that, when focused on positive things, could lead you to far more than you realize,” Your eyes cut to your therapist. You say nothing as he speaks, wiping away salty tears with your shoulder. Dr. Velaryon holds out a box of tissues and chuckles, “And I assure you, my sister is a bit of a hard ass. So you’ll have someone telling you when to get up and go to bed. Strict curfews and high expectations.”

His desk phone rings, his smile widening as he answers it and thanks the front desk receptionist. You bite your cheek as he says, “Ready to start your life again?”

You hang back at first as you and Dr. Velaryon enter the front desk area. His sister Laena and two girls greet him with giant smiles—a chorus of Uncle Laenor fills the empty waiting room. You raise an eyebrow as he had kept his first name heavily guarded.

“Laenor,” You test out, watching as he gives you a pointed stare, but you quickly remind him he’s no longer your therapist. Laenor introduces you to his family. His nieces, Baela and Rhaena both stare at you. Rhaena holds a barrage of balloons and wears a kind smile. She clearly takes much after her uncle. Baela stares as though she’s studying you. In her hands sits a card with your name on it. Behind them stands their mother, Laena, who smiles warmly.

“I hope we’re not overwhelming you. We thought if you came home to balloons and a card, it might be a bit much,” Laena says softly, stepping forward. You offer a stiff nod, glancing at Laenor, who merely smiles. When it’s clear you will not say anything, Laena announces she’s already completed the paperwork and that you need to sign a few documents. It’s not long before you sit in the back of a car worth more than every possession you have ever had in life combined. Rhaena sits with you as Baela sits in the passenger seat, commandeering the radio. Laena glances in the rearview mirror and speaks softly, “So (Y/n), I was thinking maybe I could drop you and the girls off at the mall. Get you some new clothes, and maybe we could do take out for dinner.”

“I—uh, I don’t have money for clothes right now,” You mutter, leaning your head on the window while gripping the door handle tightly.

“Don’t worry about that. Rhaena will have my card. You girls should shop around. Do you think you’re up for that?” Laena says. Before you can say anything, Baela scoffs, asking why Rhaena’s in charge of the credit card. You stay silent as Rhaena snickers as her mother lists the many reasons why Baela will never hold the credit card ever again. Her use of the emergency card being for everything under the sun, emergency jeans, emergency Taco Bell, emergency nail appointments. It quickly turns into a motherly lecture to which both girls groan, “You girls know trust is everything. (Y/n) someday even, you will be able to take the credit card when you go out. It’s easy to gain my trust but far more difficult to regain.”

You nod quietly and the car ride grows quiet. Missandei plays on the radio. You nearly forget about the previous conversation, but as the large shopping center appears it all becomes real. You stare curiously at the people who walk and talk, appearing so carefree—unaffected. Laena drops the three of you by the entrance promising to return in a few hours. She says Rhaena has clear instructions on everything that must get done first.

As the three of you enter the mall, your eyes carefully scan the many faces. Baela’s staring at you as she skips to join your side as Rhaena says the first stop should be the Apple Store. You chew your bottom lip, Baela’s stare stoking a fire deep in your chest.

“Mom said she already has a plan and everything set up. We just need to go pick up (Y/n)’s phone,” Rhaena explains. Staring down at her phone, she reads the instructions diligently. Baela’s stare nags at your core, the fire growing at a rapid pace while your nails dig into your palm.

“Whatever the fuck you want to say, just say it,” You glare at her coldly. She chuckles, putting her hands up in surrender as you three freeze.

“Uncle Laenor says you’re all bite, no bark. I overheard you were in juvie, what’d you do?” Baela questions ignoring how her sister gasps. She looks at you with a challenging stare and an teasing smirk.

“Baela!” Rhaena exclaims.

You step closer to Baela, crossing your arms as your heart hammers. She does not move, and Rhaena looks between you both like a deer in headlights.

Stepping back from her, you wear a chillingly calm glare, speaking cooly, “I killed a guy.”

There’s a long pause as you both stare at each other. It soon breaks as Baela laughs. She looks at her sister, “I like her. Let’s get her this phone and some new clothes before we meet up with the others.”

Baela skips ahead of you both as Rhaena rushes behind her. Rhaena speaks with frantic urgency in her soft tone, “Mom said not to overwhelm her. Maybe this is too early.”

“Yeah, it’s too early right now, and no way I’m bringing her around our friends in these rags,” Baela turns, looking up and down from head to toe. You flip her off and she ignores you as she stares at you in contemplation, “you’re hot. If we get you a cute outfit, better hairstyle, and maybe some mascara, you will be the next hot topic at ValeU.”

“ValeU? That Ivy League for bratty rich kids?” Your eyebrows furrow as you look between Rhaena and Baela. The sisters talk with their eyes leaving you to shift on the balls of your feet at the silence, “Hey asshole and Rhaena. I happen to be here still.”

Rhaena apologizes as Baela grumbles about being asshole. You follow them into the Apple Store, retrieving your new phone. From there, Baela drags you into every store in view. Baela plays Barbie doll with you as you provide little input on things you like.

“Are you always a hard bitch, or will we discover a mega softy in a few weeks?” Baela calls out. Rhaena exclaims her sister's name for the millionth time. You stand in the dressing room, staring in the mirror wide-eyed. The mini yellow sundress is simple, yet you can barely recognize yourself. You leave the dressing room as Rhaena’s lecture to Baela trails off into a stunned silence. The sisters stare at you, and you stare back at them. Baela smirks. Stepping forward, she frees your tight hair coils from the tie that holds them. Out of her purse she reveals a tube of mascara. You say nothing as she clips on tiny gold hoops to your ears before stepping back with a giant smile, “I told you. You’re hot. A sexy criminal.”

Baela wiggles her eyebrows, grinning ear to ear. You bite the inside of your cheek, “fuck off.”

“Oh, you know you want to laugh,” Baela teases as Rhaena smiles at you softly.

“You do look really pretty (Y/n),” Rhaena's soft voice earns a weak smile. You look in the mirror drumming your fingers against your thighs.

The three of you walk to the food court, and you wrap your arms around yourself. Baela walks ahead of you both, with Rhaena throwing glances your way. You assure her you are fine, a lie. The subtle glances of strangers around you chip at your guarded wall, leaving the awkward girl in its stead.

“Okay, so preface before we meet up with the boys. There’s Jace, Aegon, and Cregan. Jace and Cregan are best friends. Aegon is a douche but Cregan and Aegon play soccer together, so we’re stuck with him. Oh, Cregan and I used to date, but we’re just friends now. It’s not weird, I promise,” Baela speaks quickly and casually. You have no time to process her words or even respond as giant smiles of strangers greet you. Rhaena introduces you, and you mix their names the second they are said.

“Why did no one say she was hot?” You quickly identify Aegon as Baela smacks him upside the head but agrees. The bags beneath his eyes are telling. You know them all too well.

“Ignore him, we all do anyway. Cregan,” The tall dark haired one smiles with a dashing charm. You chuckle, nodding your head as Aegon rolls his eyes.

“I’m Jace. Baela’s been texting us nonstop about you,” Jace says, smiling, and you frown as your eyes cut to Baela. He quickly continues, “All good things.”

“Cool,” You say, eyeing them just as they eye you. Rhaena breaks the silence as they all pile into a booth. Everyone breaks into side conversations, Baela and Aegon bickering about people you do not know. Rhaena and Cregan chat quietly amongst themselves. Directly across from you, Jace smiles kindly, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

“Where are you from?” Jace asks. Raising an eyebrow, you stare at him wordlessly. He scratches the back of his neck, “Not a small talk person?”

“Not really no,” You say, and Jace nods, his gaze stays on you. His warm smile juxtaposes your sharp stare. The silence between you continues. Jace smiles as he stares at you as if he’s seeing something.

“Mark my words, (Y/n). You’re going to let me in. I know it,” Jace says, his tone playful and challenging. You raise an eyebrow at him as Aegon suggests all of you going to “chill in his jeep and listen to music.” Whatever the hell that means.

“I call shotgun. No way I’m cramming back there with the rest of you,” Baela says and Cregan’s quick to suggest drawing straws.

“I have space in my trunk. It’s a mess but able to seat someone,” Aegon says. You quickly offer to take it. Jace and Rhaena both say they can take it, but you insist. His trunk consists of a slew of scattered clothing blankets and shoes. The rapper Grey Worm blares through the speakers, and you cannot hear anything anyone says. Something pokes at your back, shifting to the side. You freeze at the plastic bottle that sits on your left. The white-capped orange bottle stares back at you, your ears ringing. You cringe at the sound of your name and the absence of the loud music.

“My moms here,” Rhaena says softly. Nodding your head, you exit the back seat cautiously. You are quiet in your goodbyes, even as Jace shoots you a mischievous grin. While loading the bags in Laena’s car, she excitedly asks about the shopping trip. None of you mention the guys, and you settle on Lysene for dinner.

While Laena suggests watching a movie after dinner you excuse yourself to your room. Your many shopping bags fill the floor of the room twice the size of your room at the rehab facility. You lock your room door and walk to your dresser, and you lay out the contents of your pockets: your license, a crumpled-up dollar, a seahorse bracelet, and a bottle.

Sitting on the floor, you grab the bottle. You open it placing a pill on the carpet in front of you. Staring at it, you lean back on the foot of your bed as the Xanax stares back at you.

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