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#and if they don’t change then my suffering and fears will be valid but we’ll also probably have two dead kids or at minimum estrangement
goldkirk · 2 years
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Here’s what I know.
1. I am not dead
2. I don’t need to suffer to justify being alive
3. I can’t save other people
4. I will always want to try
5. That’s not stupid of me
6. I have a responsibility to save myself
#I hate all of it#this is bullshit and I’m sick of being a human and life SUCKS when things are good and everything in my head is FUCKED#I’m preparing for battles that don’t happen and leave me feeling stupid#and never see the ones that DO come until they hit me#I’m not going back to Missouri for the holidays#it’s going to be a miserable round of guilt tripping for the next two months#UNLESS IT ISN’T#I tell people things for once#and then my family DOESN’T do what I JUST told someone they’ll do#and then I feel SO stupid. I hate this stage#I don’t know what to expect from may of them#they treat me like an outsider now but still are sweet and kind and include me and stuff#but they’re engaged in criticism and spiritual warfare and an anti-Katie’s-fallen-ways campaign behind my back with all the kids#because that’s what they did with me in regards to other relatives#UNLESS THEY AREN’T#I want nothing more than for them to change but if they change what the FUCK was all my suffering for?#if they change after all this time then why wasn’t I enough for them to change for when I was begging#and if they don’t change then my suffering and fears will be valid but we’ll also probably have two dead kids or at minimum estrangement#this is a mess but I also overcatastrophize EVERYTHING#which is leading to the 10 month journey of “Katie becoming the girl who cried wolf#…again#anyway whatever this is a weird week I’m kind of fucked up and need to go walk and think#I can’t feel anything but I feel /weird/#you know??#shh katie
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a-shared-experience · 6 months
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A spiritual awakening is a pathway through the underworld that leads us to the light. There comes a time in our lives where we all will reach our breaking point. We look around at the world we’ve created and realize we don’t actually belong there.
The people, the job, the facade… it’s all reflective of the ways in which we have disconnected from ourselves and lacked any sort of true love.
As you can see the hermit is looking back to the past to try and find the answers. What happened, where did it all go wrong, what path should we have taken, where do we fit in. Self reflection isn’t always looking in the mirror and seeing the pretty yellow flower. Sometimes we don’t even recognize the image we see there.
Sometimes we want to break the mirror into a million little pieces and push away the reality of ourselves. Some truths walk alongside anxiety.
The 9 of swords gives us a feeling of powerless, coping alone, going over and over things until we reach mental exhaustion and complete overwhelm. We have serious regrets that keep us up at night and we ache to turn back the clock and choose differently. We are sick with worry, suffering and deeply unhappy yet we can’t think straight. It’s all too much.
It’s the card defined by mental illness , not in some DSM 5 type of way, more so the definition of insanity being , “ doing the same thing every day and expecting different results “… we do this a lot as humans. We are creatures of cycles and patterns. The reality of human nature is that we only like change when it’s familiar. Anything else forces us to really size up who we are and even make big changes within our way of being to accommodate change itself.
This can be a difficult process when we are riddled with fear. When we refuse to accept, forgive and choose differently we are held in our patterns and defined by them. They will trick us into thinking that we can’t change, we aren’t good enough or we’ll surely fuck it up.
It’s funny how we lump everything together as the same life experience and never address that our wounds drive our behaviours and self beliefs and create our realities. We lose the spark of joy from lack of self belief, self drive and ambition and exist within the mundane as if it’s a curse.
The hermit is the courage to look at the root of the pattern despite how frightening it may seem.
Both cards are 9’s which represent completion of a cycle. We are nearly there . Something is in the process of ending so that eventually something new can begin.
My journey through the darkness was gut wrenching, terrifying and rife with sleep deprivation. I embarrassingly was clinging to the old because I felt it slip from my fingers and couldn’t find myself without it, never realizing I was lost within it.
At some point you understand that you’ve been holding sand tightly in a balled up fist and need to let it go. It was always meant to be free, just as you are meant to be as well.
The hermit is affiliated with Virgo because of his analytical ways, his quest for knowledge and power for research. He has the ability to see and know deep truths and eventually light the ways for others. Just as you hurt, so too do many others.
Oftentimes our pain takes up far too much space and we don’t have the capacity to see that this is a journey for each and every soul.
I don’t remember who I was pretending to be before going through this reoccurring event which could be defined as either spiritual or psychotic break. My therapist calls it a grey area. It can’t really be defined. It’s simply a journey.
I myself, haven’t fully healed, I am healing. What I gained from this experience was self worth and self empowerment to validate and soothe the scared child that will forever be apart of my soul. Instead of silencing her or gaslighting her I simply listened and used logic to rebuild her brokenness. I didn’t try and escape the memories , I watched them like a movie in slow motion and I cried for her.
I spent a long time there and eventually I found myself feeling happy, joyful, playful, excited, more so than ever before. There are still so many experiences yet to be had, yet to be felt, processed and understood as vital lessons.
I turned those sleepless nights into expression , poetry, singing, drumming, prayer, paint, building, cleaning, releasing and chasing after my truest dreams. I let myself believe that life could be better, I taught myself that calm wasn’t boring and chaotic wasn’t thrilling.
It’s all a process. I hated every minute of it
I wouldn’t change it for the world
I have the strength to ask for help, to help others, to believe in magic, the mind to dream instead of ruminate, the power to heal and the will to learn and grow and become the person I was always meant to be.
I am all that I am because of pain and gracefully because of love.
Take a peek, don’t be scared of the dark.
I sleep with the lights off now. I am proud of who I am rather than just prideful.
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peakysanakin · 3 years
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a bit about Elain's trauma and why it correlates with her rejecting her mating bond with Lucien in the future, a thread:
(WARNING: this post isn't about ships, except Elucien because Lucien is a key factor in Elain's trauma. )
Everyone deals with trauma in their own way and that's totally okay. Some are destructive, some shut people up and others want to not feel anything. Elain, just as Nesta, went into the Cauldron and those moments were horrific for her.
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She is literally dragged and shoved into the Cauldron while she cries, struggles and kicks to escape the guards' grasps. The guards and the King keep laughing at her during the whole time.
Elain is used as an experiment for the Queens.
She is used as if she was a mere object.
Her body has been changed forever and she is practically naked, completely terrified and in shock from whatever she has gone through inside the Cauldron. (We know how terrifying and horrible it can be because of Nesta's experience.) Everyone is looking at her, some are even laughing.
Do you know how violating this could feel? To be left naked and vulnerable in front of people who have just terrorized you? How would you feel?
We don't know what she goes through inside the Cauldron, but it was probably very painful and terrifying. Then, she is thrown off it and she experiences this horrific scene, and her mating bond with Lucien snaps.
Another thing has been decided for her.
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Not only has her body and life been changed forever without her consent, now her romantic relationship has been decided for her as well. And it's with a man who participated in the plan that made this horrific moment happen.
Lucien is an accomplice of that. He isn't a bad person, but he is CLEARLY an accomplice. (GO NESTA!!)
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Elain is dealing with her trauma and she doesn't own Lucien anything. She suffered so much, she was broken and traumatized by what happened to her.
And Lucien and their mate bond are a BIG reminder of the day her body and life were changed against her own will.
We don't know much about her, but we have seen enough of her suffering and how traumatized she is in the books. Feyre always admired Elain's strength, because being kind and gentle in a world so dark takes balls, you know? Later on in the books, Elain is still kind and gentle but more reserved and quiet because she is dealing with her own shit.
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Strength doesn't equal to physical force. A big example? Queen Elizabeth I of England was strong and she never fought in a battlefield, but she was intelligent, cunning and brought a Golden Age to her country. She made a place for herself in a patriarcal society and that's how strong she was.
Elain's strength differs from Nesta's, Mor's and Feyre's. She isn't an active fighter like them, but yet she had the guts to fight in the war and stabbed the King on the neck to protect Nesta because she loves her sister and would die for her. Look at this.
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No one wanted her to fight, but she chose to. SHE CHOSE TO! This is important. She is scared in the battle camp and doesn't know how to fight or wield a sword, yet she trusts her friends and wants to fight alongside them. 
She might die in the battlefield, but at least she will fight fighting and not be a pawn.
She will enact revenge for what the King did to Nesta, to Feyre and to herself.
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MOREOVER –– Another big trauma (aside from happened inside the Cauldron and the dramatic changes in her life), it will probably be center around her body. 
Her clothes, body and beauty are mentioned all the time. ALL THE TIME. Elain, who was a very proper and modest lady (and didn't want to talk about periods even with her sisters), was seen naked against her will by everyone and she probably felt violated.
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Feyre mentions Elain's reaction when she sees her and Nesta wearing Illyrian fighting leathers. She mentions how Elain was offered something less scandalous and more proper. 
Imagine how someone so proper would feel after being used and seen all vulnerable and naked by so many people? To have been ogled against your will? To be seen as an “object” to see whether the Cauldron worked?
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Nesta is a sexual assault survivor and she also suffered because of their youth, Feyre's sacrifice to provide for them and Elain suffering from the Cauldron incident. She dealt with her trauma in her own way, just as Elain deals with it in her own way. And that's okay!
In Elain's book, her choosing who she wants to be with and how she wants to live from now on will be important. She will turn down Lucien, as it is obvious from what I explained above and because of the following:  Feyre and Rhys comment on how being mates doesn't equal to being right for each other.
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Sarah J. Maas said this as well.
She also said that a mating bond is something rare but that some people might be lucky and end up having two. But the main thing is: 
Elain will reject Lucien because they aren't right for each other and she will chose whomever she wants to because she loves that person. That's big and it will be key to the plot.
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Elain might end up being lucky and while falling for another person, a new mating bond might develop. But at the end of the day, it will be her choice. 
Not the Cauldron's choice, not society's choice or anyone else. 
Hers and hers alone.
You think she is boring? Well, we will learn more about her and we will see her heal from her trauma. Her body and her choices have been violated, but she will heal and grow for that and gain ownership over herself once again. 
Rhys, Amren and Feyre believe there is more to her than just the kindness she shows. 
“Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way.” “You think I stifle her?” “Not you alone. [...] But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d dissapoint you all. [...] With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge”
“You think Elain is boring?” “I think she’s kind, and I’ll take that kindness over nastiness every day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.”
“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”
“You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”
“I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”
“Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”
Being a seer gives you many powers, but it would take me too much time so I recommend you to read this LONG AND AMAZING list of powers a seer might have posted by @miru5llec​ and you will be shocked and hyped.
If you like mythology and fantasy literature, you know seers are feared and respected. Kings have killed for having a seer in their ranks. They can reach levels of divine status and their ability as a seer gives them many more powers than those I have mentioned before.
Elain might not be physically powerful like Nesta or Feyre, but being a seer makes her more powerful than both of them but IN ANOTHER WAY. Look at the list above (linked) if you don't believe me. 
Her being on the Night Court makes Feysand's court the most powerful in Prythian.
That's why Elain is not boring and her trauma is valid. There is much more to her than what little we have seen. SJM has said so. Rhys, Feyre, Amren, everyone has said so in the books. We will learn about her, see her heal and chose who to love in her book.
“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”
“But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”
We will see her develop her powers and learn how to use them. She is possibly the key to killing Koschei (the big bad villain) because she might have visions of where his heart is hidden in that fucking box and guide the IC to find it.
Furthermore, stop saying “I want Elucien to happen so Lucien can be happy.” or “Azriel deserves better than Elain because she likes to garden and is mated to Lucien.”
Elain doesn’t belong to Lucien.
Elain can garden, bake and walk around on her hands while singing La Macarena and that doesn’t make her any less strong than Feyre, Mor, Nesta or any other female character.
(Also, in this stupid ship war I have seen people pointing out how she wouldn't be able to give Azriel children because her body isn't Illyrian. This is disgusting. You are basically saying that all her worth lies in whether she can give someone children or not.
Do I remind you adoption exists? Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are brothers by choice, not by blood and they are BROTHERS. You can adopt and be a mother. And you can chose to not have children and that would be okay too. A woman's worth isn't in her uterus.
And that’s it. 
(I posted this thread on Twitter as well, so if you liked it you can go there and RT it or hit a like.)
[og post]
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An anonymous lover (part 6)
Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.
Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, not proof read, panick attack
Word count : 2k
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - You're here - Part 7
English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes
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Y/N didn’t go to class, she felt like shit, completly like shit. She was in her bed, rolled in her blanket, looking at nothing, the argument with Sirius playing in her head over and over again. Tears would have rolled down if she hadn’t cried all of them already.
She simply couldn’t believe it, a part of her wished so hard that was all a nightmare. But she knew it wasn’t, she had let her guard down and had been stabbed a million time by the very person she had trust enough to tell all of her being.
She hated how much this impacted her, she should be used to it by now, shouldn’t she ? It wasn’t like student from other house hasn’t already told her all those things ; “monters”,”abomination”,”shame”... It wasn’t rare for slytherin for being bullied just for bieng slytherin, most of them have built up walls to protect themselves.
She even got comment from other slytherin, the bad one, those who gave a bad name to this house, on how she doesn’t deserve to be here, that the Hat had made a mistake, because surely there was no way “a dumb”, “snoflake”, “less than nothing” had ended up in the house of the greatest wizard of the magic world !
All their insults started to spin in her head, she had tried so hard to not let them get to her but Sirius’ comments just validated them. They were right, she was a shame, to her house, to this school, probably to her family and friends too, why would anyone wants to be with her anyway ?
She started to feel herself suffocating in her duvet, so she took her blanket off. Her hands were trambling, hearts pounding faster than an hyppogryff at full speed, she could barely breath and started to panick even more. It wasn’t the fisrt that happened to her, so she tried to remember Madam Pomfrey’s advices.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breath, trying to gain control back, it took many tries, but after minutes who felt like hours, she was able to breathe properly. She sighed in relief, and for a few minutes, just looked at the floor, debating with herself of what to do and letting her time to recover from what just happened.
She tapped her thigh vigourously and stood up, she wasn’t going to let a heartbreak lead her life ! She was going to take a nice shower and get into comfortable clothes and get out of her room !
After cleaning herself up, she still didn’t feel like going to class, fearing of a new break down, so got dress, she took some school supplies and went to the slytherin common room, it was dark, with tall walls and big windows to have a look in the Black lake. Mermaids came sometimes, communications was a bit hard but it was kind of fun to bound with these creatures, she loved watching them swin, it was mesmerising.
She sat down on a window seat, were cushion had been placed and as well as a tray for those who –just like her- wanted to study. This would give her the possibility of being productive despise not going to class, and avoid thinking of Sirius for a while –she did let her potion books and notes in her bedroom just to be safe-
After a few hours, she was proud of herself for all the work she had done, all her homeworks were done, and she even took the time to do studies in advance, she had not think of Sirius that much, and was now looking at the lake, some mermaids were playing together a bit further, it was hide to see since the water of the lake wasn’t clear but if you focused enough, you could see it.
But she was took out of her observation when she felt a tap on shoulder, when she looked it was Collins, the prefect who guide her back to the common room last night. She was so overwhelmed yesterday, she hadn’t took the time to look at him, she hadn’t realised he was a fellow slytherin. She didn’t care much of her house structure if she was honest, she had no idea of who was headboy or girl, prefect or member of the quidditch team.
She took a good look at him, he was tall with blond curly hair and dark eyes, quite cute actually. But then it hit her, was she in trouble for skipping class ? Shit, had she missed McGonagall detention ? So she just at him, waiting to be reprimand or something, but it didn’t happen, he just looked at her and then away, oppenning and closing his mouth, trying to say something.
She decided to end his suffering and spoke, “Yes ?” He hesitate a bit more before looking finally at her. “Are you.. Are you okay ?” This took Y/N by surprise, she wasn’t expecting him to worry about her, when he guided her back, he hadn’t said a word and clearly looked uneasy, she thought he would do anything to avoid her.
“Hum, well, yeah, thanks for asking.” An akward silence set between the two for a few seconds, Y/N decided to put her stuff away since she wasn’t going to study again.  “Do you need anything else ?” Collins jumped, surprised to hear her after the seconds of silence. “No.. I mean YES ! I … well..” he clearly didn’t know what to say, that’s adorable though Y/N. She motion him to sit down in front of her.
He did so and sighed, before slamming his hand on face, “Sorry, this is akward, I don’t know what to say”, Y/N laughed a bit “I can see that !” she teased. He became all the shade of red. “What about some presentation first ? I’m Y/N Y/L/N” she reached out her hand.
He smiled and shook her hand. “Benjamin Collins, but please, call me Ben” She nodded. “So, Ben, what else did you have to tell me ? “
He looked down at his hand, playing with his thumbs, “I.. I don’t know. After what happenned last night I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and when I didn’t see you at mealtime, I got a bit worried”. Y/N openned her mouth, it was her turn to not know what to say, that was just so sweet, she didn’t expect it from a stranger. But then her stomach gurgled and it was his turned to laugh. “I ‘m taking that into you didn’t eat yet ? Come with me, we’ll found you something”
And that’s how both of them went to the kitchen, the house elves were nice to make her a little something, and they talked for a few hours. Y/N learned he was a year older than her he was a muggleborn, he had a little sister he was really closed to, she didn’t turn out to be a witch too which made him quite sad but he was proud of her anyway. She spend such a good time with him, it’s actually him who had to remind her of her detention.
To not be late she had to run to her dorm to quickly change, not sure McGonagall would have liked seeing her in a casual outfit, and then she had to run to the classroom, whe she arrived just in time. There, she saw Sirius, who snapped his head at her when she got in clearly waiting for her. But before their eyes could meet, she turned her head and sat down as far as possible from him. It is only now she realised she hadn’t thought of him at all while she was with Benjamin.
He was about to say something but to Y/N’s relief, Professor McGonagall got in, “Perfect, I see you are both here, for your detention you are going to organise all of the books of this class in alphabetical order, without magic, of course” Y/N widen her eyes, there were a lot of books here, it was going to take forever.
Both her and Sirius got up and started to work, Y/N always stepped away the closer Sirius got to her. He eyed her every now and then but she ignore him completly, after a few minutes he looked to see if McGonagall was paying attention to them and when he saw she was busy, he spoke low to Y/N.
“Y/N ?” she ignored him, “Y/N ? Can we talk ?” she still ignore him, “Y/N, please”, she blessed him with a hard look and spoke irritated, “What”
Sirius felt himself getting smaller at her look, he did deserve that. “I’m sorry” she rolled her eyes and kept her work. “I really I’m Y/N, I-.. You didn’t deserve any of the words I said to you, I didn’t believe any of them I-” as he was speaking, she walked away, not giving a glare.
“I know, I know, you’re mad-” she was about to talk but he kept going, wanting to have the chance to finish first “-and I deserve your anger, but I want to make it up to you”
She finally talk, “It’s far too late for sorry, the harm is done, there is nothing you can do”
“There’ got to be something I can do ! Please Y/N”
“You want to make it up to me ? Organise those books so we can be out as soon as possible and stop talking to me”
Sirius frowned, and sighed “I will find a way Y/N, be sure of that” “Get to work, Black”. He grimaced when he heard her uses his last name, he will take a lot more than a simple apology to earn her forgivness, but he was going to make every effort, she was worth all of it. He will take down the moon and give it to her if that would make her talked to him again.
Once they stopped talking it took an hour and a half in total to finish it, Sirius did his best to be as efficient as possible, if she wanted to be out as quickly aas possible, she will. Once they had finish, she quickly excuse herself from Professor McGonagall and walked away.
Sirius sighed, putting his face in his hand. McGonagall walked to him and pat his shoulder, “Good luck Mister Black, you are going to need it”, he thanked her and went to his dorm.
He decided to analyse every letter she has send him, searching for all the things that could make her forgive him, making a list, putting on plans, with the help of the marauders. He had a pretty clear idea, it would take a couple of days to put in place, he hoped so hard it would work.
It was now time for dinner, he went with his friends, once at the table he search for Y/N at the slytherin table, his eye widen when he saw her sitting next to a boy he recognise to be the one who took her back to her common room yesterday. He felt his blood boil in his veign, she was smiling and laughing out loud. Wow, that laugh, he loved it, but he shouted dark glare at the boy, he wanted to be the one to make her laugh.
“Stop tarring” said Remus suddenly, making his friend jumped, “you don’t get to be jalous” Sirius groaned and let his head fall on the table with a hard thud, turning a few heads. “I know, I still don’t like it”
“She moved on fast” noted Peter. James shrugged a bit, “She’s a slytherin” he put his hands in the air when Sirius shot him an angry look, “Wha’ I mean is tha’ they are proud, she wasn’t goin’ to let herself down fo’ you”
Sirius sighed, he guessed that was a good thing ? He didn’t want her to be hurt because of him, but he felt bad for wanting her to care about him more than she does. He put that thought away, he didn’t get to wish for that when he was the one who pushed her away in the first place.
He looked at the two of them once more, clenching his fists, he had to make it up to you, and fast, or else he will lose you forever.
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@blackpinkdolan  @jentaculargums @bruxa0007 @deathkat657  @bleh-bleh-blehs @whiskeypowder @edithsvoice @weasleybeb @auggie2000 @the-mess-in-my-head @theincredibledeadlyviper
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I will be on vacation for two weeks with my family, I will probably not be able to update the serie for a while.
Thanks all of you for your support, your like, reblog and nice message, it really warm my heart and motivate me to keep going <3 Love you, have an amazing day
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on-maars · 3 years
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Parenthood
Finally took the time to write a lil something for buddie again. Hope you’ll like this  🥰
Just Bobby acting like a dad to Eddie and them having a quick chat about his (obvious) feelings for Buck.
Read it on AO3.
Bobby doesn’t usually ask Eddie to help in the kitchen. Not that he doesn’t want it, he just knows that cooking is not exactly Eddie's area of expertise. This is a widely accepted truth among the 118.
Still, when Eddie asks him if he needs a hand in the kitchen this morning, Bobby finds himself nodding and handing him the knife to chop the vegetables while he’s keeping an eye on the meat.
Bobby doesn’t need much time to realize that Eddie’s sudden burst of willingness to cook may have been brought about by ulterior motives; his hand gestures are way too hasty, too sharp and the vegetables start to suffer the consequences, looking more like some kind of puree rather than small squared pieces like he asked him to a few minutes ago.
Bobby doesn’t say anything at first, wondering if it’s his place or not, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t have to. Eddie takes that decision for him a few minutes later by abruptly letting go of the knife, a dull sound resonating inside the living-room. Both Hen and Chim look up at him, share a quick glance with each other and flee the scene without looking back.
“I think I’m gay.” Eddie suddenly says and Bobby raises his eyes at him, wondering why Eddie opened up to him of all people, surely someone like Hen or Michael would be more helpful in the matter. Still, he stays silent and offers him a small smile of encouragement. “Demisexual, too.”
“Okay.” Bobby only answers.
“It means that I-”
“I know what being demisexual means, Eddie.” Bobby cuts in.
“I- I didn’t.” Eddie says, lowering his voice. “I only just found out about it. About everything, in fact. And- there’s a lot of terms, Bobby. It’s- it's a lot.”
“It can be pretty overwhelming at first.” Bobby agrees. “I wouldn’t know half of that stuff if it wasn’t for May and Harry.” He adds.
“Yeah, May was- She was very helpful actually. She was the first person I- I told. She kept sending me these articles afterwards and after a bunch of sleepless nights, it finally started to make sense. Or I mean I- I think it does. I’m still- still trying to figure it out, really.” Eddie asks, letting out a bitter laugh. “I mean, look at me. Coming to terms with my sexuality at age 30, it’s- it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.”
“You’re not.” Bobby says, his voice determined. “Eddie, there’s no right way to figure out your sexuality just like there’s no right age to come out. And yeah it might be easier for some people but if that’s how you feel today then that’s valid too, Eddie. And these terms… These terms you’re looking for online, they’re only here to help, you do know that right? If you don’t exactly fit in a box, that’s okay too.”
“Yeah, yeah I- I know.” Eddie says, the tone of his voice still uncertain. He picks the knife again and goes on chopping the vegetables, more slowly this time, with more patience, more precision. He doesn’t look at his Captain in his eye, though. Not after what he just said, not after this conversation. And Bobby doesn’t push. He never does. He brings back his attention on the meat instead, turning the steaks so that they cook evenly.
For a few minutes, neither of them say anything. They just sit there, enjoying the silence, enjoying the quiet.
Eddie’s the first one to break it.
“It’s just not something I’ve been exposed to before, you know.” Eddie says. “The way I was raised, the house I grew up in. It’s never been something- something I had the luxury to think about.”
“But this changed.” Bobby finishes for him, smiling softly at Eddie when this one darts his eyes towards him for just a few seconds, looking away just as fast. Bobby can see him put his fingers together into a fist, most likely trying to push through the conversation despite the fear of confiding in someone about something so personal, so intimate.
“How could it not change?” Eddie answers, and Bobby catches him looking softly at the sleeping figure of Buck on the couch.
“You know you should just tell him.”
As soon as these words leave Bobby’s mouth, Eddie looks down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his right hand rubs the skin of the back of his neck. “Tell him what?” He asks and Bobby rolls his eyes at him.
“Tell him how you feel.” Bobby clarifies. “You know he’s only waiting for you to get there.”
Bobby follows his gaze and his own eyes fall on Buck. Buck who’s sleeping on the couch, his mouth slightly agape, a book in his hands.
Bobby knows the kid enough to say with absolute certainty that the book he’s holding most likely focus on whatever topic Christopher is studying at school. It’s not rare for Bobby to find Buck deeply involved in a research spree on the internet, just to be able to talk about it and exchange some interesting facts with Christopher at the end of the day.
“How can you be so sure?” Eddie asks.
“It’s Buck.” Bobby answers so simply, like it’s reason enough. “He’s my kid.”
“How- how long have you known?” He says, his expression quizzical.
“That you two love each other?” Bobby starts, his eyebrows raised. “We all had our doubts. You’ve always been joined at the hip, Eddie. Sure, Buck was more vocal about it than you... You’ve always been quieter, more cautious.” He goes on but quickly adds when Eddie looks up at him with an alarmed expression on his face. “Which is not a bad thing. It’s just the way you are.”
“How could- how could you guys have known for so long?” Eddie asks with a sigh, his eyes still focused on the sleeping form of Buck. “I’ve been… I’ve been so clueless.”
“It’s not a competition, Eddie.” Bobby reminds him. “There’s a very thin line between friendship and relationship. And it doesn’t matter how long it took you to get there, Eddie. Because when you think about it, nothing of what you guys shared and continue to share today is going to change. It’s still gonna be there. You’re still gonna be best-friends before anything else.”
“I guess.” Eddie says, still unsure.
“Nobody’s asking you to tell him now, you know?” Bobby asks. “You can take your time. Let it sink in.”
“No I’m-” Eddie starts, shaking his head. “I’m ready.” He says, his voice determined. “Turns out getting shot really put things into perspective.” He adds, letting out a nervous laugh.
As if electrocuted by Eddie’s words, Buck wakes up with a start, his entire face contorted with what Bobby guesses is fear. He looks around in alarm for a few seconds, his eyes shining with tears, until they both fall on Eddie and his face suddenly softens. The gaze is so soft, so intimate, Bobby almost wants to look away.
Buck approaches the kitchen counter quietly and sits on the chair, running his now shaking hands through his face. His eyes find Eddie again and the older man simply nods and places his left hand on the table, and Bobby realizes that’s simply another one of their non-verbal conversations.
No one in that firehouse had mastered the art of speaking without actually exchanging words more than these two.
Bobby observes Buck as he slowly encircles his best-friend's wrist with his finger, his index and his third finger resting between Eddie’s wrist bone and tendon, no doubt checking his pulse. His hand shakes for a few more seconds but a soft smile eventually stretches up his lips when Eddie intertwines their fingers together.
“You’re okay?” Eddie asks.
“I am, now.” Buck answers, lowering his eyes towards their intertwined fingers. Bobby turns around to take the plates out and give them some privacy. But he can still hear the next few words coming out of Eddie's mouth.
“What was it this time?” He asks.
“The- the shooting. You were dying before I had the chance to drive you to the hospital.”
“Well I’m here now.” Eddie says and Bobby can picture the smile on his face. “We’re okay.”
The conversation flows smoothly after that, Buck helping Bobby and taking over Eddie’s cooking, stating that “no one should have to face food poisoning that early in the day.” Eddie nudges him playfully and takes a seat, checking in with Carla to make sure Christopher is okay at home.
“Did you know that there are more than 120 pyramids in Egypt? Give or take.” He says excitedly and Bobby rolls his eyes at him, not missing the way Eddie’s face softens at his words.
“I did not know that.”
“Crazy, right? And some of their stones weigh more than an Elephant, Bobby! And you know Ancient Egyptians were very big on astronomy and researchers said that they might have used the stars to align their pyramids. Although, I guess we’ll never know for sure cause the alignment of stars is constantly changing, you know, but that’s pretty cool, right?”
“Is Ancient Egypt Christopher’s new passion or Buck’s?” Bobby asks in Eddie’s direction.
“Both, apparently.” Eddie smiles.
“By the way Eds, there’s this Egyptian Museum in San Jose, they say it holds the largest collection of Egyptian artifacts, I thought we could check it out. It’s a five hours car drive, it's a bit long but we could make it work during a week-end maybe. Chris would be thrilled.”
“Sounds like a plan, Evan.” Eddie answers and Bobby frowns, surprised to see that the Evan privileges now seem to have extended and included Eddie. For a few seconds, he wonders whether he’s been slow on the uptake about that sudden advancement in their relationship but then he can see Buck’s face light up and turn a bit redder than usual and Bobby just knows that it’s just another one of these things he will need to get used to.
“Awesome, I’ll look into it, then. I’ll text you the details, alright?” Buck asks and he’s about to reach for his phone in his back-pocket when Eddie finally says those three words.
“I love you.”
Bobby stops stirring the soup and raises his eyes towards Eddie, who seems to have lost all composure.
“I’ll… I’ll let you two talk.” Bobby says. “Buck, you mind keeping an eye on the soup?”
“Uh I- yeah I’ll- I’ll take care of it, Bobby.”
Bobby leaves the kitchen, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder as he goes past him. He locks himself in his office and tries to focus on the most boring part of the job: the paperwork. It only lasts a few minutes, though, his curiosity eventually gets the best of him. From where he’s seated, he can still see Buck, his back facing him. And Bobby is not big on gossip but he’s had to watch these two dance around each other for so long it’s only fair he gets to witness the outcome of three years of unresolved tension, right?
Buck is standing in the kitchen, and from what Bobby can tell, this one hasn’t moved for the past ten minutes, probably focused on what Eddie’s saying or too shocked to say anything. It all changes after a few seconds, though. Buck’s body straightens up but he lowers his head to the ground, and Bobby doesn’t need to be standing next to him to picture the sheepish smile stretching up his lips.
He knows he’s right when Buck raises his eyes again, changing his position in such a way Bobby can now see his face. His eyes are warm, his expression soft and the captain of the 118 finally decides to look away when Eddie appears in his field of vision, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands and pressing their lips together.
A small smile breaks in on his face and he opens the first top left drawer of his desk, his right hand grasping the document that’s been gathering dust for soon to be three years:
Personal relationship disclosure form
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simpingforsoftboys · 3 years
Text
Love Me, Love Me Not
ft. Kuroken
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G/N Reader
TW: Insecurities... I think that’s it?
Read This First
Mini Series Here
Okay part 2/4 for the continuation of “Toxic Things They Do” request. This is probably the hardest one for me because I’m better at writing Kuroken x reader on a platonic level aha. Not proofread because your girl is a slacker-
You’re sitting on the floor of your living room, staring at the tv while Kenma plays on the new PS5 he bought. He’s seated in Tetsuro’s lap, the dark haired male is busy yapping his ear off- to which Kenma lets out small hums of acknowledgement every once in a while to show he’s listening. You want to join them up there, somehow the couch seems so far away from you. Like a pillar high in the sky- only serving to show off what you can’t ever really have. It seems a little dramatic to be thinking that way, sure, but you have a valid reason to put it in such a manner. You know, since you’re allergic to leather and all.
Tetsuro was always so caring, constantly doting on the ones he loves. With his trashy puns, troublesome smirk, and sparkling eyes that promised a good time, he was perhaps the ideal man. He gave his all for those he cared for, seemingly nothing about him was selfish... and yet the leather couch had been Tetsuro’s idea- he had always been fond of the material after all. Even when you brought up the whole issue of you being allergic to it- he still insisted that they purchase a leather sofa. 
“We’ll just buy you a separate arm chair or something.” Kenma had said after listening to the both of you argue back and forth. “It’s not like we don’t have the money.” It hurt more looking back on it now than it did at the time. It was an unreasonable solution, but it wasn’t like Kenma was going to disagree with Kuroo. He never did. At least when it came to you that is.
You continue staring at them. There’s something about the way that Tetsuro gazes at Kenma that just screams love and contentment. He’s never looked at you that way- even back when you were in denial you knew that much. Kenma never had to do what you would need to in order to keep his attention on him. All Kenma needed to do was exist- unlike you- he never had to earn dear Kuroo’s love. 
Tetsuro only doted on those he loved. He loved Kenma. And he only seemed to love you when Kenma wasn’t around.
“Y/n...” The messy haired male called, long arms winding around your torso. “Let’s go to the arcade! I made some reservations- we have the whole place to ourselves for a few hours.” 
You remember being excited at the time- finally you would get to go on a date with Tetsuro. It had been so long since your last one. 
“Really? That’s awesome! Let me just get dressed.” You slipped into a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt before hurrying to meet Kuroo at the door. “Tetsu I’m-”
“I can’t believe you got called in so last minute. It’s too late to cancel the reservations already kitten.” Kuroo whines into the phone, obviously talking to Kenma. “Yeah I’m just bringing Y/n, no point in wasting money... oh? Okay see you later. Love you kitten~”
Needless to say, your day seemed a lot less exciting after overhearing that conversation.
Kuroo gently nudged the smaller male aside, standing up to go use the restroom. The two of you made eye contact briefly, he winked playfully before continuing on his way to the bathroom. Your gaze fell upon Kenma- who was still rapidly pushing buttons and triggers on his controller. 
Kenma had always been elusive. It was one of the things that drew you into him. He looked so uncaring about everything, at first you couldn’t even have imagined that he would be so attentive to every detail. Was it a trait he had gained from Tetsuro or vice versa? People do say lovers begin sharing habits over time. At first you could barely distinguish one of his expressions from another, but as you spent more time in his company you found much more than you could have hoped. You discovered that he was constantly changing, learning to be more expressive. Each time you thought you had him figured out- he had already developed beyond that.
The minuscule way his lips would upturn when he was amused soon changed into a hidden smile, chuckles threatening to escape his throat. Then that changed to a slightly wider one, showing the smallest amount of his teeth. Eventually he learned to forgo his embarrassment entirely- and he would laugh freely, all teeth, heart, and soul, in it. Yes, Kenma was a constantly evolving individual- like the ever changing maze in the maze runner. There was seemingly no escape to him- just twists and turns and dead ends. He was impossibly deep- a promise of a myriad of mysteries within his eyes. 
But you were just another runner- doomed to be lost in the maze- but never to escape it. Kuroo on the other hand was something else. He was on a completely different level- skilled in his knowledge of Kenma- able to come and go as he pleased. You doubted he’d ever wanted to escape. Neither did you- at first. 
Out of the two of them, Kenma had always been more receptive of you. It had surprised even Kuroo himself actually. You didn’t doubt Kenma’s love for you- not like you doubted Tetsuro’s- but you also knew that he’d never care for you as much as he did Kuroo. It showed in the little things.
“Y/n did you want to play with me?” Kenma’s soft voice carried over where you were- snuggled up in blankets, playing Animal Crossing while sitting in your arm chair. He had his own red and blue Switch in his hands. Kuroo had been home at the time, you recall hearing him snoring away in your bedroom. “It’s been awhile since it was just us.”
You smiled at his words and agreed. The two of you visiting each others islands and irritating your beloved villagers. It was fun, spending time with Kenma, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself- and not just because of the game. He would shoot you shy, soft smiles when he thought you weren’t looking. It was those smiles that really kept you clinging onto the sinking ship that was your relationship. 
Kenma loved you.
The smiles directed towards Kuroo were different. They weren’t shy- instead they were familiar and open. Kenma had known Kuroo far longer than he had you. The comfort he took in him was of an entirely separate magnitude. Naturally, this was the same with the amount of love he held for him too. 
He looked happier with Kuroo than he did with you.
Maybe it’s because of that fact that you decided to break the news to Kenma first. Making sure that your skin was covered with you long sleeves, pants, and socks, you made your way over to where Kenma was seated. His eyes tore away from the screen to stare at you worriedly. 
“Y/n your allergies-” He began.
“It’s fine, as long as my bare skin doesn’t touch the leather.” You reply, sitting beside him. You know you shouldn’t- not when you’re about to say this- but you yank him into a hug anyways. You hug Kenma tight and hard, because he’s the only one in this relationship that might even love you a sliver as much as you love him. He tries to turn, so that he can embrace you too- but you won’t let him, opting to pin his arms down with your own. It’ll hurt too much to do this if you let him hold you. 
“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asks and he looks at you like you’re the only one in the world for that moment. Bitterly, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be in Kuroo’s shoes. Yet again, you are reminded that while this is a rare sensation for you- it’s a daily occurrence between the two of them- looking at each other like they hung the stars up in the sky- that is. 
“I have to tell you something Kenma.” You murmur, licking your lips. “But first I’m going to let you go, right after I try to memorize what you feel like against me. And you have to promise not to try to hug me after that okay?” 
“W-why? What’s wrong Y/n?” He struggles again, fear overtaking his heart at your words. “What is it?”
“J-just promise me. You can be mad, you can cry, hell you can even laugh afterwards. But don’t try to reach out and hug me okay?” He’s never seen you so serious, so he nods his head. 
“I promise.” He agrees and stops fighting against you. You do your best to memorize this- the feeling of him in your arms. He’s warm and despite his lithe figure he’s firm against you. His hair is smooth and soft- since you had managed to drill into him how important hair maintenance was- it smells like his pricey conditioner. You rest your cheek against his for a long moment, before forcing yourself to pull away from him entirely. The half blonde abides by his promise, but it’s clear that he wants to reach out to you.
“This is going to hurt me a lot more than it’s going to hurt you.”
“What are you saying?” Kenma’s anxious now, eyes searching for answers in your own pools of e/c. 
“But you have Tetsuro... I don’t know how he’ll feel about this- but he’ll probably be furious with me.” You continue, heavy tears slipping from your tear ducts. “I don’t think this is working out Kenma-”
“What did I do?” He asks, wide eyed and desperate- you can hear the pain in his tone. “Did you fall out of love with me- with us?” The angel and devil perched on your shoulders agree that you should lie to him- tell him ‘yes, I did fall out of love with you.’ The angel says it’s better to do it this way, to spare him the pain of knowing what you went through. While the devil thinks you should say it in the most vicious way possible- to give back all the pain, the unworthiness they made you experience. But you refuse to listen, no one deserves to suffer through your insecurities.
“I’m still in love with you two.”
There’s tears spilling from both of your eyes now.
“Then why-”
“It’s because I’m not content anymore.” It’s not the full truth but it’s better than a lie right? You forgot that a half truth is a whole lie. 
“I think we deserve the truth.” Kuroo says from the entrance of the living room, he’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. “Not some half assed explanations.” 
“Right...” You agree, blinking back your tears. “I’m so grateful for you two. Tetsuro you’re so caring and selfless, you give your heart in everything you do- I’d be lying to say that I’m over you. Kenma you’ve always been so attentive and I won’t lie- something about you just makes me want to appreciate you endlessly. But babes, you’ve been in love for so long- I can’t possibly catch up.” 
Kuroo’s expression is shocked, not expecting this. “Y/n-”
“No, please listen.” You ask of him- just this once- to listen to you. Luckily for you he does. Kenma looks like he wants to speak up too, but swallows his words. It’s the first time they’ve let you get a word in without getting defensive. Kinda poetic if you think about it. Your last 'argument’ as a throuple and the first time they’ve been able to let you say your piece.
“Tetsu, it’s clear Kenma’s your first and foremost priority. I don’t even know if what we have is love or admiration- but it’s not what I’m looking for.” You give him a sad smile and he discovers that it’s the most genuine one he’s seen from you.
“Y/n I-” He tries, only to get an impatient look from both you and Kenma. “Sorry, continue.”
“I’m a hypocrite to say this- but Kenma... this is harder to say because I’ve grown more attached to you overtime.” You hate yourself for what you’re about to say next- the hypocrisy you’re about to spew is enough to render your feelings null and void... or so you believe. “I never doubted with you- what we had... have... it’s definitely love.” 
Kenma looks ugly, his face is all scrunched up and theres snot and tears dripping down onto his lap. “It always was- still is Y/n.”
“I know baby.” You whisper back, it pains you to see him like this. “But you’re still more in love with Tetsu.” He can’t deny it either, that’s what pains him the most. “I love the both of you though. So I really do wish you the best. It’s the only thing I can do- because I can’t stay here and hold you back.”
Something inside of Kuroo’s heart cracks and he finds himself tearing up at your words. It hurts because you’re right. He doesn’t love you like that- or at least he doesn’t think so. But if that’s the case then it doesn’t make sense as to why he’s hurting. 
“I’m sorry that I had to be the one to call it quits- because I never, ever, wanted to be the one to do that. But guys-” Your voice cracks, it embodies all the heart ache you’re feeling- been feeling for so long. “When it’s just you two, at the altar, finally becoming one... I’ll be able to say with good faith that I made the right decision. So don’t fight me, don’t even say anything- this is what I want. This isn’t for just you- it’s for me too.”
They nod, facing the consequences of your choice- maybe it goes further than that. Maybe all this time the three of you were doomed to fail. If that’s the case then it’s a blessing that you’re not going down in flames. Instead this chapter is ending with a flood of tears and the promise of ruin. But there’s also the underlying hope that one day the flood will dry up and they’ll finally be able to look at the ruins without feeling regret. It’s that hope that all three of you cling too. That hope that one day you’ll be able to rebuild upon the ruins- a new temple, new kingdom. A new place for a rebuilt- or maybe even entirely new- love. 
A/N: I did Kuroo so dirty but I’m not sorry about that. In all honesty this is how I feel it’d go in a situation like this. Kuroo’s priority is always going to be Kenma. He’s a chemistry nerd- and their shared chemistry is so deep, it’s engrained onto the face of their soul. I think Kenma does really love Y/n but he’ll always love Kuroo just a little more. But sometimes a little is all the difference and is the game changer in the end. I do think, that if Kenma had loved the two of them equally- then maybe they could have been fine with a polygamous dynamic- but sadly that’s not the case.
This is also the harsh reality to a lot of poly relationships- some people enter them but aren’t prepared to love equally. So there’s an imbalance there that really shouldn’t be there. A lot of authors who write for polyships don’t touch on this but I want to be here to write about the good and the bad. 
Seeing the reader after the breakup
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Catra abused Adora.
I want to start off by explaining my own experience with watching She-Ra for the first time. I started to watch the show and continued to watch it for various reasons. But I want to make it clear that I wasn’t watching the show to see who ended up with who. I enjoyed the show mostly because it had such wonderful messages surrounding healthy families, friendships, and relationships. And so, one of the main themes of the show ended up being: abuse. 
The show demonstrated that abuse can take a variety of forms. The show demonstrated that people can suffer from abuse in different ways. The show presented that people can break the cycle of abuse and people can continue the cycle of abuse. The show demonstrated that in some cases people can try and help an abusive person, but the abusive person may abuse the person trying to help. The show also highlighted that people are allowed to leave abusive relationships.
Before we begin, I want to note that I won’t be answering the question “Did Catra’s own experiences of abuse influence her actions?” Because the answer to this question is obviously Yes. And I sympathize with Catra and the fact that she was abused while she was growing up. In addition, there’s a lot of complexity and depth surrounding the abuse Catra received. But Catra also continued the cycle of abuse. And in real life, people who have been abused can also end up abusing other people. 
Now, since we’ll be focusing on Catradora in this commentary, we must look strictly at the interactions between Catra and Adora. The reason behind this is we are evaluating only whether the relationship between Catra and Adora is healthy. In addition, if your friend told you they were being abused, would you ask the question, “I understand, but what about your abuser? Was your abuser abused?”. No, I don’t think you would. You’d ask your friend, “Is there any way I can help?” And so, in this case, Adora is your friend and Catra is the abuser.
Thus, the main question remains: Did Catra abuse Adora? And the answer is Yes.
(Please note that the underlined statements are hyperlinked to websites providing information on abuse.)
Signs of Emotional Abuse
Catra has unrealistic expectations of Adora:
Catra makes unreasonable demands of Adora.
Catra expects Adora to put everything aside and meet her needs.
Catra is constantly dissatisfied no matter how much Adora gives.
Catra invalidates Adora:
Catra undermines, dismisses, and distorts Adora’s perceptions of reality.
Catra accuses Adora of being "crazy”.
Catra refuses to acknowledge or accept Adora’s opinions or ideas as valid.
Catra dismisses Adora’s requests, wants, and needs as ridiculous or unmerited.
Catra suggests that Adora’s perceptions are wrong or that Adora cannot be trusted by saying things like “you’re not making sense”.
Catra uses emotional blackmail:
Catra manipulates and controls Adora by making Adora feel guilty.
Catra uses Adora’s fears, values, compassion, or other hot buttons to control Adora or the situation.
Catra exaggerates Adora’s flaws or points Adora’s flaws out in order to deflect attention or to avoid taking responsibility for her poor choices or mistakes.
Catra denies that an event took place/lies about it.
Catra acts superior:
Catra treats Adora like Catra’s inferior.
Catra blames Adora for her mistakes.
Catra doubts everything Adora says and attempts to prove Adora wrong.
Catra talks down to Adora.
Catra uses sarcasm when interacting with Adora.
Catra acts like she’s always right, knows what’s best, and is smarter than Adora.
Catra controls and isolates Adora:
Catra treats Adora like a possession or property.
Signs of Physical Abuse
Catra kidnaps Adora.
Catra scratches Adora.
Catra shoves Adora.
Catra kicks Adora.
Catra slaps Adora.
Catra uses weapons on Adora.
Catra physically restrains Adora.
Catra attempts to murder Adora multiple times.
Adora suffered from Catra’s abuse and Adora displayed the effects of this abuse:
Short Term Effects
confusion
fear
hopelessness
shame
Long-term effects
guilt
anxiety
Adora also tried tactics that are not effective ways of dealing with abuse:
Adora arguing with Catra.
Adora trying to understand or make excuses for Catra.
Adora attempting to appease Catra.
Adora also figures out how to properly deal with Catra’s abuse:
Adora makes herself a priority.
Adora establishes boundaries.
Adora stops blaming herself.
Adora realizes she can’t fix Catra.
Adora avoids engaging with Catra.
Adora builds a support network.
Adora deserves to be in a healthy relationship, which consists of:
Trust
Adora should be confident her partner won’t do anything to hurt her or ruin the relationship.
In a healthy relationship, trust comes easily and Adora shouldn’t have to question her partner’s intentions or whether her partner has her back.
Honesty
Adora should be able to be truthful and candid without fearing how her partner will respond. 
Adora’s partner may not like what Adora has to say, but should respond to disappointing news in a considerate way.
Respect
Adora’s partner should value Adora’s beliefs and opinions.
Adora’s partner should love Adora for who she is.
Adora should feel comfortable setting boundaries and should feel confident that her partner will respect those boundaries. 
Adora’s partner should cheer for Adora when Adora achieves something. 
Adora’s partner should support Adora’s hard work and dreams, and appreciate Adora.
Equality
Adora’s relationship should feel balanced.
Both Adora and her partner should put the same effort into the success of the relationship. 
Neither Adora’s nor her partner’s opinions should dominate. Instead, they both should hear each other out and make compromises when they don’t want the same thing. 
Adora should feel like her needs, wishes and interests are just as important as her partner’s. 
Kindness
Adora’s partner should be caring and empathetic to Adora, and should provide comfort and support.
In a healthy relationship, Adora’s partner will do things that they know will make Adora happy. 
Kindness should be a two-way street in Adora’s relationship: it’s given and returned. 
Adora’s partner should show compassion for Adora and the things Adora cares about.
Taking Responsibility
Adora’s partner should own up to their actions and words. 
Adora’s partner should not place blame and should be able to admit when they make a mistake. 
Adora’s partner should genuinely apologize when they’ve done something wrong and continually try to make positive changes to better the relationship. 
Adora’s partner should be able take ownership for the impact of their words or behaviour had, even if it wasn’t their intention.
Healthy Conflict
Adora and her partner should be able to openly and respectfully discuss issues and confront disagreements non-judgmentally. 
Adora’s partner should not belittle or yell during an argument.
Adora’s relationship should have healthy conflict by recognizing the root issue and addressing it respectfully before it escalates into something bigger. 
Fun
Adora should enjoy spending time with her partner.
Adora and her partner should bring out the best in each other.  
A healthy relationship should feel easy and make Adora happy. 
Adora should be able to let loose, laugh, and be themselves.
Adora’s relationship should not bring Adora’s mood down but should cheer Adora up. 
Adora’s relationship doesn’t have to be fun 100% of the time, but the good times should definitely outweigh the bad.
In conclusion:
Whatever Catra says, Catra’s violence towards Adora is unacceptable. 
Catra’s violent behavior is always Catra’s responsibility, not Adora’s.
Catra’s abuse is not okay or justifiable.
There are so many scenes throughout the series where Catra emotionally and physically abused Adora, and these scenes are captured on this blog. 
I just want to add that even when Catra emotionally and physically abused Adora, Adora continuously tried to reach out and help Catra. Adora gave Catra so many chances for her to apologize and rectify her mistakes. But Catra didn’t. Not only that, when Adora left, Catra continued to abuse people. Catra emotionally abused Scorpia. Then, when Scorpia left, Catra began abusing Lonnie. Catra’s abuse didn’t stop when Adora left, Catra just found a new victim.
In addition, there were so many significant moments of growth for Adora. Adora found people who supported her and did not abuse her. Adora began to heal from Catra’s abuse. Adora no longer made excuses for Catra. Adora realized that she is not responsible for Catra’s atrocious actions. 
Adora was strong and brave for moving forward in her life without her abuser. 
Moreover, Adora is a victim of abuse. Catra abused Adora emotionally and physically. Catra repeatedly admits to manipulating Adora in order to meet her own selfish goals. Catra did not show any remorse for her abuse against Adora throughout seasons 1 to 4. Catra continuously blamed Adora for her own atrocious actions. And finally, Catra attempted to murder Adora on several occasions. 
And here’s the most important thing. I don’t care who Adora would have ended up with. I just care about the fact that Adora ended up with Catra. What I mean is: I would rather have Adora end up without a partner, than end up with Catra.
Irrespective of whether you agree or disagree with my points on Catradora, these will be final points:
Abuse can happen anywhere at any time.
Abuse can happen in any relationship, including lesbian relationships.
Abuse is unacceptable.
Make sure YOU can recognize signs of emotional and physical abuse. 
Make sure YOU know that it’s okay to leave an abusive relationship.
Make sure YOU can trust and depend on your PARTNER/FRIEND. 
Make sure YOUR PARTNER/FRIEND knows they can trust and depend on YOU. 
Make sure YOU are being treated with kindness and support in your relationships. 
Make sure YOU are treating YOUR PARTNER/FRIEND with kindness and support. 
Make sure YOU are in healthy relationships and friendships.
In conclusion, EVERYONE deserves to be treated with love and respect.
Thank you.
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activelytaemin · 3 years
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growing pains [lee taemin]
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◇ lee taemin x fem! reader
angst-ish? | college!au | non-idol!au
warnings: mature language, unedited
2.0k April 8th, 2021
everything written in this story is completely FICTION. i personally do not believe that this story aligns with any of the idol’s real lives. ultimately, this story is not meant to intentionally defame any idol in any way.   
chapter one [congratulations, but not really]
Dear {Y/N},
Congratulations! I am pleased to offer you admission to the University of California, Riverside for fall 2021.
the golden word congratulations lit up y/n’s eyes as she screamed falling into her brother’s arms.  tears emerged from her eyes realizing that she would finally leave the colorful city of busan for the sunny shores of california; this was a cultural reset that guaranteed her an infinite amount of memories to come.  
“i did it! jimin, i studied so hard”, she sobbed, grasping onto his slim frame.  “it feels worth it like—“, she paused to wipe her tears with her sleeves, “all my late nights, immense sacrifices, and good grades have made this worth it.”  
jimin rolled his eyes playfully and lightly pushing her off of him. “yeah, of course you made it in”, he scoffed jokingly, “we’re a family geniuses. you weren’t raised to be a dumbass.” he ruffled her hair before y/n grabbed his wrist.  
“i guess that’s why both of my brothers are stuck here—“, y/n held his hand lovingly before sarcastically stabbing his back, “especially the one named park jimin, he didn’t get accepted into any ivy’s or safety’s. now he’s stuck going to an online university.” she released his hand before smiling to truly appreciate him, “but all jokes aside, i couldn’t have done this without you.”
her mind wandered to the thought of sunny california. the excitement built up in her like air filling a balloon. there were nerves trapped within because this sense of curiosity and control was foreign.
would there be snow? 
what types of people would there be? 
how perfect does my english have to sound?
there were several wonders because south korea was engrained to her memory.  for the past eighteen years, korea was her home. there would be no more hanboks on seoullal, honorifics for friends, and (most importantly) her beloved family.  without her family, she wanted to venture on the outside on her own. yet, there would always be a yearn for the feeling of home. the universe finally served her freedom on a platter. she could finally leave the nest to fly.
was she ready for it?
“y/n, don’t forget that you won’t be alone. taemin goes to riverside too”, jimin’s loud mouth interrupted y/n’s thoughts.  soon enough, all her freedom had crashed and burned. she was caged once again. 
her imagination was left to torment her. when she heard his name, a roaring fire lit up within her because of her discomfort; the fire will never go out.
scars can heal, but y/n’s are deep as ever.  like an evergreen, scars can everlasting.
“taemin—i thought he was in new york?”, she questioned with a sense of worry. “i haven’t seen him since he graduated, and i don’t really like him at all. are you guys still friends? ”, an awkward laugh slipped out. she was quite uncomfortable at the mention of taemin, and her confession proved it all.
there was something about taemin that irked her soul. whether it was the memory of his being or thought of him physically, taemin would forever be an uncomfortable and undesirable person to talk about.
she remembers the day taemin walked in and out of her life.  
it seemed so sudden.
he never wanted to cause pain, but he left her with the sharpness of his trauma.  whatever was rooted in his cruel being had isolated her from her well being.
it was one thing for taemin to make y/n happy in secrecy. however, y/n had to suffer in secrecy once taemin had walked out because nobody knew the depth of her adoration for him.
jimin groaned before taking a deep breath to keep his composure. “one, taemin has been my best friend since 2015. two, he had to transfer because he had a change of mind—”, he let out a brief laugh, “well, that’s what he says—and three, it’s him or mom watching you.” 
he was taken aback by her dislike for his friend.  in his mind, he believed that y/n would be quite fond of a familiar face.  however, he let it go believing it was just another “girl problem.”
little did he know, taemin was a disaster that filled y/n’’s life with hundreds problems. 
jay-z once said, “i got 99 problems, but a bitch ain’t one.” for y/n, taemin was the 99 problems and she was “the bitch.”
the seriousness in jimin’s tone was irritating to y/n, almost strangle-worthy. he doesn’t understand her dislike for him. in fact, he has a “bromance” with taemin.
to others, taemin is a cool and collected young man that seemed shy to the world while being confident to his friends.  jimin often saw his confident side, and that allowed jimin’s mind to feel as if taemin was heavenly.
to jimin, taemin had an aura about him that he couldn’t explain.  it drew him in. 
maybe it was because he was simply older than jimin.  or, he could’ve just been build with extra charm.
as much as y/n didn’t like jimin’s praise for taemin, she didn’t want her mom babysitting her because she is simply too grown to have her around. sometimes mother’s can be suffocating; they can control many aspects of your life.  it was a valid fear for y/n to have, and she was scared that jimin was going to follow in those footsteps.
jimin didn’t know any history between taemin and y/n.  he doesn't know she constructs taemin to be evil because he took advantage of her innocence. sadly in her heart, she believes the thought of him is bad for her health because he hurt her.
taemin is a monster. an emotionless, compassionless man who does not know how to love.
but, everyone is naive because they don’t understand his evil like y/n does.  
taemin does put up a front to the world, while y/n gets to see all of him at her own risk.
“i love mom, but you’re right”, she laughed in agreement. for jimin’s sake, y/n lied to him and herself, “i’ll take taemin any day.”
“yeah, but don’t forget to wear a mask. nobody wants covid in the states. you don’t have insurance”, jimin scoffed before y/n hit his back playfully.
jimin yelped in pain, “literally what the fuck? you’re a demon.”
 september 20th, 2021
the plane to california was unbearably long and did not comfort her senses.  although she did not mind wearing a mask, the uncertainty of her health on that flight kept her up the full thirteen hours. everyone was spaced out, but the enclosed space made her claustrophobic. normally, her senses are grounded. however, the pandemic blows everyone out of proportion and brings out a little bit of paranoia as well.
y/n was wearing a pink surgical mask to contrast with her plain wardrobe. before she left for california, she chose a long black coat, oversized uc riverside hoodie, and black jeans with her basic converse. she was trying to blend in with every other college freshman on move-in day.
a memory flew into her mind. while on the plane, the remembrance of what home felt like tugged at her.  the pain of missing someone never settled inside of her; the feeling was foreign because the past experiences weren’t genuine. or maybe, she is uncomfortable with missing someone or something because of insecurity within.
before y/n left, her mom hugged her tightly before sending her off with tears; love can be unconditional when it comes to your family.  on the other hand, y/n heard jimin laugh at his mom while giving a wave goodbye; hiding your worries with comedy makes you more worried at times. jimin was obviously good at hiding himself, but he made himself overly awkward this time.
when she knew she was saying goodbye, y/n didn’t feel anything because leaving was thought out to be normal. her mind didn't think her immigration would be sad. it was surprising to see her mother sad, but also the uncomfortable atmosphere jimin brought.
a ding from the intercom sounded off, “we will be beginning our decline to los angeles.  the fastened seat belt sign is now on for your personal safety. please remain seated during this time”, the voice was followed by another ding via the intercom.
as the plane began its descent, y/n gripped one of her armrests while closing her eyes. sadly, the feeling of traveling alone was brand new, not in a bad way. perhaps, the butterflies her stomach arose because she was going to be around a familiar face that makes her uncomfortable.
y/n wishes to hide away the memories of the two of them as if their world's never collided. in her mind, lee taemin was just another problematic teenage memory to get rid of
in summer 2018, the air was different. it was heavy, and the atmosphere was lethargic.  in the moment, y/n felt specifically upset as if the universe decided to rip out a significant amount of reality; the universe ripped something out, indeed.
lee taemin, long-term lover, graduated early behind her back.  suddenly, he is getting up to leave for new york. 
“i can’t believe you are leaving for college already”, her teeth bit her bottom lip before she felt his warmth encase her. tears were pouring down her face while creating a hurricane of bleeding makeup and anger.  “you can’t keep doing this to me. you told me no more fucking secrets!”, she gripped onto his waist before silently crying into him.
“i think you knew that this was bound to happen”, taemin brought a hand to her face, caressing her cheek to wipe away the tears. “the only difference between you and i is that we’ll be boarders apart.”
“i didn’t know this was your plan. you just dropped this huge ass bomb on me today!”, she aggressively pulled his hand down to suddenly push him away.  “taemin, this isn’t just about you. my love for you is real.”, she took a breath to let out a sarcastic laugh. 
“i love you”, her heart ached saying those words.  more tears came out of her eyes before she quietly croaked out with a general shakiness in her demeanor, “do you feel the same way at all?”
taemin shook his head, scoffing slightly. he grazed the back of her hand with his lips. no words were exchanged between them.
y/n was standing there confused, waiting for him to say something. even if the words were, "i don't love you."
however, his response never came, and his thoughts seemed distant. it was like taemin resisted y/n's desire and compassion for him.
the silence between the two filled the air. it finally hit her that his love was no longer apparent, and his place in their relationship became nonexistent.
just like that, taemin walked out the door breaking y/n’s heart as if it was glass. from her eyes, it truly didn’t feel as if he gave a damn to begin with. 
it was unreal, but most definitely her reality.
in her mind she is screaming because taemin makes her feel alive in the worst way possible. he is unbearable to think about because he is a reminder of everything that has gone wrong with love.
he is only a distant memory that she wishes to burn.
fuck love.
but most importantly— fuck you, lee taemin.
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surfalldaybaby · 4 years
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”A Very Long and Comprehensive Analysis of Feyre’s Experience w/ Trauma and Abuse
- This is not a kind analysis of Nesta but please still read it if you want. It’s not in the wrong tags tho so please don’t rant about how much you love Nesta. I love that for you. Personally, I hate her. :)
Also- I use many of the quotes that @feysandlover and @dont-rattle-aelin used to prove her point that Nesta is abusive because she pulled many of the really jarring ones. 
I was looking through the Rhysand tag and for some reason someone posted something comparing Nesta and Feyre in terms of their trauma, and they said that Nesta had experienced way more trauma than Feyre and I-
That’s disgusting.
First - don’t compare trauma
Second- they were wrong and lacked critical thinking skills that left out Feyre’s full experience with abuse
Nesta was sexually assaulted ( which nobody talks about enough) and her family’s fortune flipped making them poor overnight. Because of this she fostered anger towards her father. I get that. I sympathize with that. She is then taken away from her life and forcefully changed into fae. I cannot imagine what that felt like for her. It must have been devastating. Her whole identity was shifted in one day and she went from hating fae to being fae. Confusing and overwhelming. She then goes into war and develops PTSD and depression from her experiences. She sees her father die and is unable to reconcile her anger and his death. It’s horrible and I cannot even begin to understand the depth of her emotions here. I have zero issue saying that about Nesta because it’s true she has gone through extaordinary trauma and I cannot imagine how she fully feels. She deals with this trauma in unhealthy ways because they only exacerbate her feelings of worthlessness. Not her fault. However, she also treats Mor and Feyre and Rhys in disrespectful ways and Cassian and her have an unhealthy dynamic where they insult each other. Her and Amren have a shaky and partner like relationship but it is by no means a sturdy one. Az and Nesta don’t seem to have a relationship at all. She has no true healthy relationship with anyone but Elain, and you could argue even that is not truly healthy.
Much of Nesta’s trauma is due to extraneous factors and a multitude or variables. It’s valid and it matters just as much as Feyres. They are both real. However the amount of traumatic experiences she has gone through does not come close to rivaling that of Feyre’s and to even try and compare them is disgusting. Trauma should never be compared but I want to show Feyre’s experience in a broader light to show her development from a scared girl to high lady
Feyre was never an active abuser in any relationship she was always the one being abused. Nesta was abused and she was also the abuser. It is important to point that out because it heavily impacts Feyre’s story.
Also, I believe the reason Feyre became so accustomed and slipped so easily into being a victim to Tamlins abuse is because Feyre was already the victim of emotional abuse from her sisters. We see this everyday, research shows that victims of abuse go back to abusive relationship and form new relationships that center around abuse because they are used to it and find it comforting. This is an extraneous point that you can agree with or can argue against it’s just a personal connection I made. However, it is very evident how Nesta and Elains treatment of Feyre affects her. She has no self confidence, she remains illiterate and with no real knowledge of polite manners ( something important in the real world, something that holds her back from being able to assimilate into the real world), her spirit is broken down at home because she knows  that verbal attacks are going to come and Nesta is going to lash out and say horrible disgusting things to her if she asks her to do something or holds her accountable for her lack of work. She is constantly degraded for everything that she does and it has a pronoucned effect on her psyche throughout the trilogy and novella. 
Like Nesta, Feyre also had to go through her family losing their fortune, she also had to bear the weight of her promise to her mother, she had to support her sisters financially going into the forest alone to hunt animals just as big as herself at 14. She never had money for herself because her sisters took it from her. Like they literally took all her money to buy things they did not need, leaving Feyre with basically nothing.
“I’d love a new cloak,” Elain said at last with a sigh, at the same moment Nesta rose and declared: “I need a new pair of boots.””“I kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of one of their arguments, but I glanced at Nesta’s still-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces... I drowned them out as they began quarreling over who would get the money the hide would fetch tomorrow…”
 And Nesta complains and whines and doesn’t stop gaslighting Feyre because of her lack of hard work. But, she doesn’t want to do work herself because she thinks it’s beneath her. 
“I thought you were going to chop wood today. Nesta picked at her long, neat nails. “I hate chopping wood. I always get splinters. She glanced up from beneath her dark lashes. Of all of us, Nesta looked the most like our mother—especially when she wanted something. “Besides, Feyre,” she said with a pout, “you’re so much better at it! It takes you half the time it takes me. Your hands are suited for it—they’re already so rough.” My jaw clenched. “Please,” I asked, calming my breathing, knowing an argument was the last thing I needed or wanted. “Please get up at dawn to chop that wood.” I unbuttoned the top of my tunic. “Or we’ll be eating a cold breakfast.” Her brows narrowed. “I will do no such thing!”
She doesn’t care about Feyre or the fact that starving is their new reality. Poverty is what they live in. We all know if Feyre didn’t go hunting Nesta would be furious at Feyre and belittle her and make her feel small and responsible for their hunger.
“Take those disgusting clothes off.” 
“Any bit of praise for anyone—me, Elain, other villagers—usually resulted in her dismissal.”
“Is there a problem, Feyre?” She flung my name like an insult, and my jaw ached from clenching it so hard.”
“You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?”c“Take those disgusting clothes off.” 
“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” She stormed off, Elain darting after her, cooing her sympathy. 
Then Tamlim comes and kidnaps her. More trauma. She falls in love with him, I think partly because of Stockholm Syndrome and also because he shows her a level of kindness that she was not given at home, and then he disappears so she has to go back to her life with her sisters. Her sisters have all the benefits of her being stolen away bcs Feyre was able to provide their old house and wealth back through Tamlin’s gift. Her sisters literally never did anything to provide for themselves or help their father or sister. If you really think about that situation as a whole it’s devastating. Then she goes to save Tamlin and finds that her home and her loved one was basically destroyed. She goes to save him.
While under the mountain Amarantha humiliates and tortures her for fun. She makes her run around trying to get away from a monster, her illiteracy is exploited for amusement while she is under pressure of death by fire, she is forced to kill fae in order to save her love, and she has to suffer with her injuries in a basement where everyone is rooting against her.
Then she fucking dies. And like Nesta she is forced to become fae in order to survive. Like she can’t catch a break. Her whole life has really just been horrible and so traumatic. A series of abuses.
That’s not even all! She goes home and is deeply depressed and struggling with PTSD and Tamlin, who she literally was tortured and died to save, takes advantage of her sexually because he is too scared to acknowledge that she is struggling. He uses her body for his pleasure while she throws up every night after he leaves her bedroom due to the nightmares she gets from saving hundreds of fae. She is also forced to fit into a box that she doesn’t want- wearing dresses, pretending to be happy, becoming a figurehead as Tamlins bride knowing that it means she will have to be submissive and have children. Lucien emotionally abused her and ignores her obvious depression because of his own fear of what Tamlin would say. He is a bystander. She is so broken that she stops caring about everything, even painting, the one thing she always loved. Then he traps her in his house which is traumatizing again because she was just trapped under the mountain! Even the people she loved, the people she trusted, continually can’t stop abusing her.
She finds happiness and stability later on after intensive work on herself, and months of building healthy relationships, but she is still troubled because of the guilt she feels from the townsfolks anger and their sense of righteousness for her actions even though she did the best she could in every circumstance. When she goes to try and save those townspeople it becomes clear that Nesta still hates her. She shows Feyre no kindness. The only reason she is allowed to use the house, the one that Feyre got for them, was because of Elain. Even after that Nesta insults her repeatedly for being fae. Those statments from the first book that I quoted higher up in this post are just a small part of how she speaks to Feyre in the following three books after she finds out that she is fae. Even after Feyre saves her and supports her she continues abusing and blaming Feyre. She continues to insult. degrade, shame, and humiliate her to uplift her own lack of self worth. Its a technique to stop her own insecurity and depression but it is in no way excusable. It’s no wonder Rhysand hates her. She abused his mate for years- something that he experienced under the mountain (shame, gaslighting, and humiliation). That is her life. She goes on to see her father murdered. She suffered so much in such a short amount of time is a wonder she wasn’t more broken.
Don’t come to me saying Nesta experienced more trauma to prove your point that Nesta is a good person and not responsible for her actions because she “feels to much” and is a woman that is cruel, and prideful, and unapologetic “bcs that’s who she is.” She has to be held accountable for her actions, her attitude, and her lack of words and apologies to everyone she wronged- especially her sister.
Feyre sacrifices her childhood, her body, her mental health, and her life in order to provide the stability that her sisters felt was their norm. They are inherently priviledged because of that sacrifice. They felt and still feel entitled to her money, and her loyalty, and that of her friends and mate. They survive because of Feyre. And Feyre never once called them out on their behavior, not even when they continually disrespected her after she provided them with a place to live and money to live off of. This was due to her feelings of guilt and the trauma that she had continually been victim to as a child and in Tamlins court.
Some of y’all use the excuse that they never asked Feyre to do any of that and I’m genuinely appalled that that is even a response to her genuine sacrifice. Her mother asked her to take care of them. Nobody was stepping up. Nesta was not going to go into the forest and neither was Elain, both for different but equally disappointing reasons. They both would have let the family starve. Also, Nesta and Elain were both older than her. Elain and Nesta as Feyre’s old sisters should have, and had a responsibility, to ensure that Feyre didn’t have to do what she did. Their apathy and ungrateful attitude is disgusting. Disgusting and unforgivable. Sure, Feyre may have been able to do it but she never should have had to. The three of them should have figured out a plan of equal work to give and take and survive. Y’all saying that Feyre never had to do that I- ... do you not have a family? Do you not have loved ones? You don’t have to do something to help your family, but you do it anyway because you love them and you hate to see them suffer. It’s just that usually you aren’t being exploited and taken advantage of at 14, for years on end, because the sentiment is usually reciprocated.
Perhaps if they had taken better care of their younger sister she would not have been in the woods and killed the fae. Perhaps all three of them would have bore the brunt of their fathers injury together and made a family. Perhaps if she hadn’t killed the fae in the forest when she was starving due to her sisters laziness, Elain and Nesta would never have been forced into being fae.
They neglected Feyre. They aren’t as responsible for her as their father ofc but they actively neglected her and Nesta even slut shamed her for her consensual sexual relationship with Isaac. The one thing she had that her sisters couldn’t take and Nesta called her filthy and disgusting for it.
“At least I don’t have to resort to rutting in the hay with Isaac Hale like an animal.” 
Nesta remains unapologetic and to me she is not a feminist character. Sarah J Mass tried to use her as that trope to fulfill her idea of a “powerful woman” icon but she’s just a cruel and traumatized woman who people let off the hook. She gets away with it because she gaslights other characters while taking no responsibility for herself. She was abused and traumatized herself but that’s never an excuse for her in turn abusing someone else.
Now I don’t mean to say that Nesta or Elain are irredeemable. Frankly I think they both have potential to be good characters if they just apologized to Feyre in the next book, and really put those sentiments into actions. I do think Nesta is a bad person right now, I think she’s an abuser. And I think it’s hard for abusers to change their pattern of abuse. Elain is less of an outright abuser and more complicit in the abuse. I don’t know if either of them can change, but they definitely won’t if people keep letting them off the hook for their disgusting behavior. I am not impressed or charmed by either of them. Until they show a hint of gratitude and remorse to their sister because as y’all can tell she went through hell to make sure they were taken care of. Not to say that they didn’t do anything for Feyre. They both  had important roles to play in the war, and they do have their moments of kindness and bravery and showed they cared for Feyre but abusers can be kind and considerate and brave one minute and then switch up just as fast. It’s about showing a consistent pattern of respect and love. 
Just because Feyre took care of Elain and Nesta their whole damn life does not mean she has to be responsible for them as high lady. Also she is not responsible for knowing how to deal with their trauma. Her own abuse, and lack of real world experience- because Nesta and Elain never taught her to read, and Nesta continually degraded and made cruel remarks to Feyre about her lack of manners “ disgusting pig, take off your clothes didn’t anyone teach you ...” (manners she didn’t develop because she was in the forest)- means she is not perfect at confronting Nestas PTSD or depression. Feyre’s intention was always good, whereas you can’t tell me that Nestas was good and pure. She is not exempt from being respectful and kind because she is hurt and has mental illnesses. She is not exempt from apologizing because she “feels to much.”
This applies to all of the IC as well. They are all healing. They all experienced trauma that rivals what Feyre went through. It’s no wonder they built a family from that shared bond. They are healing together- not healed. Nesta is not entitled to Feyre’s care or her friends kindness. She is not entitled to be added into the group painting or their secret jokes or parties because she continues to push them all away. Then she insults them and disrespects them. The inner circle has already suffered so much they are not exactly going to be open to accepting Nesta knowing her history and her current actions and remarks, and the history of the IC. Do y’all not remember Mors family nailing a stake into her body for losing her virginity? Or Cassian, Az, and Rhys being forced to bond together to survive, being called bastards, and being ganged up on by all their peers? Rhys being sexually abused for 50 years and seeing his parents murdered? Az being stuck in a basement so long he became the shadows and his hands being burned so badly they were hard to look at? Or Amren being in the wrong body for centuries and still she and all of the IC remain a family because they try to understand each other and their experiences. Nesta was not only rude to them she was cruel and spiteful, especially to their high lady, and they don’t need an excuse, but especially as victims of abuse, they are not perfect, and they sure as hell are not obligated to embrace Nesta into their family. The IC and Feyre deserve better.
A lot of people have posed the argument that if Nesta was male everyone would love her but I disagree. If an older brother let his sister go hunting alone in the woods for years while sitting on his ass, slut shamed her and called her dirty and disgusting, blamed her for her family’s poverty and spoke to her like she was trash for years and years, verbally and emotionally belittled her, felt entitled to her possessions and her kindness while they were both struggling to heal from abuse, predisposes his sister to accepting abuse as a form of relationship, and then rather than apologize “steels [her] back” and says nothing-not even an apology or a thank you for saving their life tenfold- he would never even have gotten a redemption story, or a mate, let alone a 700 page book. He would be the most hated character in the series but because it’s Nesta and she’s a woman and y’all pose her as this feminist it’s okay that shes abusive all throughout the series.
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ironmandeficiency · 4 years
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beach please
pairing: rex / reader / cody
word count: 6166
summary: once the war ended, you retreated to scarif for much-needed time to recenter yourself. rex and cody worry when you don’t answer your comms for days and leave coruscant to find you, fearing the worst. turns out you’ve just been drinking and partying, now sporting two new tattoos.
a/n: the self-created duke of scarif is jimmy buffett & i was inspired by his song “margaritaville” & “beach please” by kevin fowler. 
canon changes: everyone listened to fives abt the chips & palps was discovered to be a sith lord. the clones were given human rights, a generously low locked-in rent if they lived on coruscant, and as much back pay as the republic could afford (not much but better than nothing).
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“master y/l/n, there’s still so much to be done-”
“and you can have someone else do it. you must not be capable of recognizing the importance of reevaluating the way we interpret the code, or else this conversation wouldn’t be occurring.”
obi-wan blanched at the barely tamed fury radiating from your force signature. this was the second time in less than a year that he felt something so raging from your force signature, the time before this meeting being the aftermath of umbara. before the nightmare that was the siege on the shadow planet, it had been decades since you were angry enough about something to raise your voice to the council. it took a very great transgression to ignite your anger into something scathing and this meeting was doing exactly that.
the council was meeting to discuss the senate’s plans to have the jedi spearhead efforts to repair the galaxy and quell the revolts in areas that still wanted to continue the war. palpatine was manipulating both sides and if it weren’t for fives and kix, the republic would have been none the wiser when chancellor palpatine executed the order to have the clones murder their jedi.
“how are we going to guide the galaxy through the changing times if we’re unable to reevaluate our own beliefs and how the war impacted them? so many of our padawans were raised in this war, far different than how they should have been brought up.” your mind drifted to ahsoka and late-night conversations spent trying to make sense of the reality of war and how she’d been nothing but a soldier since she left the temple at fourteen. “the senate is not our responsibility nor our lead authority. we were their pawns once and despite seeing the consequences on geonosis, we let ourselves get wrapped in politics. think of what we lost because of it.”
eeth koth was deeply disturbed by your entire demeanor as well as the words spilling from your lips. if there was ever a jedi that made you want to leave the order, he’d be it. douchebag. “our duty is to the galaxy, to maintain peace! you can’t expect us to sit back and do nothing when people are struggling!”
obi-wan shared your sentiment but strived for more unity than polarization within the meeting. “but aren’t we struggling just as much as the rest of the galaxy? time must be allotted for us to heal the wounds of war before we’ll be able to successfully help others that are suffering, if that’s what’s agreed upon.” a few jedi nodded their agreement, masters plo and gallia among them. shaak looks close to being convinced but seems to still be hesitant to comment on her opinion.
“in order to help the galaxy, we must help ourselves. our emotions must be looked into with more than just the intent to throw them away at a moment’s notice. knowing why we feel the things we do can help us with far more than just our connection to the force.”
this was an idea that obi-wan has spent many years struggling with but it took the end of the war to guide him into believing that emotions aren’t the enemy, it’s how they’re utilized that counts. he explained this concept to his fellow council members and it was a sentiment you agreed with immensely.
saese scoffs at the mere idea of doing more with emotions besides dispelling them into the force. “that sounds a lot like allowing your emotions to cloud your judgement, master kenobi, something your lineage is quite popular for-” oh he crossed the line. saese was not about to talk shit about your creche mate and closest friend or his lineage and get away with it.
“no need to pardon my language, master, but it sounds a lot like you’re allowing your own emotional shortcomings and the bantha fodder you call intelligence to cloud your judgement.”
even mace was stunned at the verbal jab that came from your seat. kit had been mid-drink and it took him several seconds to recover from the way he choked on his water. you were normally calm and collected, a voice of reason amid the chaos. this time, however, you were at your limit. this was your cue to leave.
mace spoke up as you neared the door. “y/l/n, where do you think you’re going?”
“i’m going to heal and allow myself to enjoy the peace we gave nearly everything to obtain. if you want to join me, feel free to let me know.”
your robes billowed out behind you as the council meeting dissolved into chaos. you were convinced that if your seat was close enough to master yoda’s that you’d be sporting a few new gimer stick bruises. thank the force for the little things.
later that evening, you boarded your personal ship and set the coordinates for scarif. that was the perfect place to go as a jedi that didn’t want to be found by anyone that they didn’t fully trust. who would think to find a monk on a planet filled with booze, sex, and other carnal pleasures? a few comms were sent telling the recipients that you were going on vacation and to call if you were needed, giving them a new private commlink and vague hints at where you’d be.
scarif, here i come.
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“she hasn’t commed us in nearly a week! what reason is there to not worry?”
“rex, she would have called us if there was something wrong.”
“you know as well as i do that there are still radical seppies trying to keep the war going. the kidnapping of a jedi would surely be cause to fight!”
cody sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. he conceded that you ignoring their comms was highly unusual, yes, but you weren’t the type to throw yourself heedlessly into danger like some of the other jetti they knew (cough cough, skywalker and kenobi). “no one in their right mind is going to think to look for a jedi on scarif, the place is too carefree and without a permanent stuck up its shebs.”
rex knew there was a valid point to the statement. he vaguely recollects general kenobi’s mild yet humorous complaints about the “uncivilized, booze-blooded” inhabitants of the beach planet. general skywalker’s only problem with scarif, it seems, was the fact there was sand nearly everywhere, the drunks and constant parties posing no issue to the younger jedi. the reason for his disdain of sand was never expanded upon.
“i’m still going to look for her, feel free to come with.” they were free men who had no one to report to, no one telling them where they could go or when to eat and sleep, so of course rex was going to look for you. with this newfound freedom cody and rex moved into a middle-level apartment together, nothing too fancy but quite a contrast to their former living spaces under the gar.
rex chose to join the police force on coruscant and quickly climbed the ranks, excelling in every task thrown at him. he was a force to be reckoned with, crime rates dropping rapidly within his first month.
cody hasn’t made a new career choice yet, the commander still trying to find his own path. he had tried his hand on the police force but he quickly realized it wasn’t his cup of tea and left rex to it. he’s helping with groceries and other living costs with his back pay despite rex’s protests for him to put it to better use (what better use is there for credits than helping you survive day to day? that’s what they’re made for).
they were given a ship by general skywalker -anakin, rex’s mind supplied; he had corrected them many times about not using the rank- that the man had modified himself because he “wouldn’t want any friends of mine flying around the galaxy in a piece of junk.” apparently any sort of ship/speeder/droid/anything not built and/or modified by the man was inferior in nearly every imaginable way. it was a kind and meaningful gesture that anakin was willing to go to such lengths to protect them, no matter how unnecessary. the war was over after all, there was no need to have blaster attachments on their civilian speeder.
“like i’m gonna leave you to your own devices, di’kut. of course i’m going with.”
“you better hurry and pack, i’m planning on leaving no later than 1800.”
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sitting in the reclined beach chair with two margaritas, you haven’t enjoyed yourself this much in a long time. the togrutan brother and sister you met soon after your arrival had become dear friends in your two months on scarif, the three of you becoming a trio commonly seen hitting the best parties all over the planet. miek wasn’t as much of a party animal in comparison to his sister briel who was known for her wild drunken antics.
you had been there and lived in your small ship for a total of two days before they offered you a place with them. no one lived alone on scarif, they said, and it would be wrong to let you continue to be deprived of the peace the waters brought when it was lulling you to sleep.
meeting the duke of scarif during your first week planetside was quite an exhilarating experience, to put it briefly. duke buffett was an older man with hair as white as the sands he loved to party on day and night, one hand perpetually occupied by a drink and a guitar strapped to his back. he was known to play and sing during the parties he attended, his carefree attitude evident in his voice.
although no one would have guessed by looking at him, he was a fierce conservationist who would either have his guards fight anyone caught littering or, if drunk enough, would fight them himself. you’ve held him back a time or two when he clearly wasn’t in shape to do said fighting and helped ease the situation back to a fun normal.
now you weren’t a heavy drinker by any means, but your tolerance was better than most because of your connection to the force.  this made you a favorite drinking buddy to many of the planet’s permanent inhabitants and tourists. of these numbers was the duke himself whom you would sometimes humor by opening drinks with your lightsaber. it was a splendid game that won you diplomatic immunity (apparently he can do that) on the planet after two weeks of jedi party tricks and fight-preventing.
time had become even more of a social construct than you had believed it to be before the war. there were parties going on at all hours of the day and night and the concept of solitude was forgotten. everyone here extended a hand to each other, friend or not-yet friend (there were no strangers on scarif, just friends you haven’t made yet). what little pain felt was carried by all until it was so faint that it seemed to heal itself. the waters healed, you had no doubt in your mind.
the sun was high in the sky when the ship landed next to yours behind your current residence. you were, of course, not home to know where it landed but you did see said ship flying overhead as you relaxed on a blanket next to briel and miek. maybe they were lost, but you had confidence that someone on the island would help them in what they need. this was the way of scarif, after all.
you were distracted by the drinks in both of your hands, alternating sips between the two. you were outfitted in a flowy summer dress that had ridden up a smidge too high while you were lounging on a reclined beach chair. briel was rubbing - lotion? sunscreen? - something on your exposed thighs as you relaxed, enjoying the way the breeze felt on the moisturized skin.
this was the best decision you’ve ever made, coming to scarif. eventually you were going to leave, yeah, but that was a problem for future you. for now, you were going to enjoy the endless sunshine and copious amounts of alcohol that aided in your relaxation.
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they had seen the docking bay protruding into the sky like a gundark among loth-cats and decided instantly that you weren’t going to be there. you had told them ages ago that the vibes (you used that word a lot to describe force things to them) that came from industrial buildings bothered you terribly. something along the lines of wearing on your psyche, if they remembered correctly. instead, they flew a little lower than they probably should have to search the ground for where you landed your ship.
it took longer than they would have liked it to, but your ship was eventually found behind a medium-sized hut not too far from one of the many beaches. cody found just the right angle to land next to it and not hurt either shuttle, not trusting rex to touch the controls (his vod was a terrible pilot).
both men decided that even if scarif was a peaceful planet, they still didn’t know what to expect, so they equipped themselves with their blasters and lower armor before leaving their ship. first order of business: check to see if you were in your ship. if you weren’t, they could cross that bridge when they got there.
just as they were beginning to open the ramp, a man emerged from the hut and began to storm their way. he was togrutan, with yellow skin and lavender stripes on his lekku and montrals.
“hey! you two! what’s your business with that shuttle?” he sounded like he was ready to fight them about the ship, which worried the brothers, but he slowed his advance when he noticed the two blasters pointed in his direction. good, this guy wasn’t a complete di’kut.
cody was the first to lower his weapon, quick to take the diplomatic approach. rex followed suit but didn’t soften the intimidating stare he threw at the man. there was a reason your ship was there and they were going to stop at nothing to find out why. “we’re looking for a friend of ours, she hasn’t answered our comms in over a week and we were worried, it isn’t like her to not reply. last we talked to her she was here on scarif.”
the togrutan paused for a moment, inspecting the appearances of the men (clones, his mind told him, the telltale armor and near identical faces hiding nothing) in front of him.
the blond had an air of confidence about him, an almost dangerous sort of confidence. his armor was painted with a shade of blue that was pleasantly similar to the waters he just returned from, pieces of it chipped from what he supposed were rough times in battle. his jaw was set, hand hovering above where he holstered his weapon seconds before.
he didn’t appear to be bloodthirsty, just protective; who he wanted to protect, however, was still a mystery. there was a passion in his eyes that wasn’t even mildly held back. he seemed to be skilled in channeling that passion into his every thought, every action. with a note to himself to not get on this man’s bad side, he switched his focus on the blond’s companion.
miek’s gaze shifted to the other clone and quickly decided that he liked this one better. there was an extremely intimidating scar along the side of his face, yet this one seemed far less willing to shoot him on sight. he still has a grit and presence about him that told miek that this one wouldn’t hesitate to fuck your shit up if need be, but he had tact (thank the stars one of the clones had a sense of discretion).
he could tell that this one had some sort of authority over the blond, clearly serving as a high percentage of the other’s common sense. miek’s mind, after analyzing the men thoroughly, gives names for the men before they introduce themselves. “you must be the famed rex and cody! come, i’ll take you to the shoreline!”
he gestured for them to follow him and was genuinely shocked when instead of doing as he suggested, he was tackled to the ground. miek spit away everything that had gotten into his mouth, unable to move when one of the men pinned him down. this was officially miek’s worst day in over a decade.
he caught a glimpse of marigold stripes on leg armor just over his shoulder, confirming the identity of the man on top of him as rex. “how do you know our names?!” rex’s voice sent a shiver down miek’s spine (the blaster against his back also helped in that), and the togrutan reaffirmed his choice in his favorite clone: not rex.
“i’ve heard stories about you two! from y/n! i’m assuming you’re here about y/n, right?” the blaster was removed from his back and a little bit of the weight was taken off him. he must be saying something right. “she’s been staying with my sister and i, and i promise you she’s perfectly safe!” rex moves his weight completely off him now, allowing miek to stand back up but not move more than a few feet away from him.
“where is she?” cody’s voice was hauntingly low, nothing about him betraying his tension except for the hard glare felt like lasers. he had the same desire, same yearning to protect someone - that someone miek now knew was you - and it burned brighter than a hundred suns.
“last i saw her was thirty minutes ago on the shore with briel, my sister. i can take you to them if you would kindly not threaten to shoot me again. my name is miek, and i would say it was a pleasure to meet you both but then i’d be making myself a liar.” he had no idea where that bit of snark at the end came from but it seemed to sway the clones to his favor. why it did, he had no clue, but at least he wasn’t getting shot.
they walked silently for a few minutes, the two troopers beginning to slightly admire the view while keeping eyes on miek. it was a beautiful planet, there was no denying that. you were surely enjoying yourself in the sunshine, always finding a little bit of time to bask in the nature of whatever planet you ended up on during the war.
it was strange to cody, not feeling eyes on him as he walked with rex on the beach. when he would accompany general ke- obi-wan on trips to the temple or into the streets of coruscant, he constantly felt the eyes of many on him. they would be expressing curiosity, shock, disdain, or something in between, and cody could feel every bit of it. here, it seemed, no one cared that he was a clone. no one was leering at him for walking too close to them or for just breathing the same air as them. cody was blissfully able to blend with the people here and he loved it.
he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when miek had come to a stop in front of a small cluster of reclinable chairs. a large umbrella provided the area with a patch of shade and a smidge of reprieve from the sun’s blistering heat.
“see? she’s perfectly fine.” miek’s voice broke their precious silence. “i’m assuming you both can find your own way back to your ship, so i’ll be headed off.” miek left them quite quickly and rex guessed (with a bit more amusement than was warranted) that it was because he nearly shot the man on more than one occasion minutes earlier.
“cody! rex! when did you two get here?”
a familiar voice drew their attention and it took them a second longer than it should have for them to realize that yes, you were the one lounging in front of them as if it’s all you’ve ever done in your life. you were extremely relaxed and your posture conveyed your state perfectly, two margaritas perched in loose hands, both half-empty. an ivory summer dress flowed loosely around you, the front hiked a bit too high for the men to keep their imaginations under control. that wasn’t even acknowledging the neckline of your dress (or lack thereof) that made their throats a bit dry and minds slip into the gutter.
rex and cody cleared their heads after indulging the images for a second, the latter clearing his throat before replying, “just a few minutes ago. you haven’t answered our comms in over a week. rex had the idea to come and visit to see how you were doing, so here we are.”
that was really sweet of them to check up on you, you thought with a smile. you felt a bit guilty about not answering their comms. normally you were careful to reply to theirs and every other message you received soon after getting it, but as stated earlier, time has become a social construct that didn’t really matter while on scarif. you gestured for them to sit, and they took the open chair to your left. they didn’t bother laying back, just sitting shoulder to shoulder in the same chair with their eyes on you.
offering them both half-drank margaritas was a subconscious action on your part that surprised you. what shocked you even more was the fact they accepted the drinks with soft, fond smiles. kriff you missed them, how you’ve been able to go this long without seeing them was beyond you.
you smiled warmly as you introduced your boys to briel, who was smirking a bit too widely than would be deemed safe (you didn’t notice this, seeing as you were too busy drinking in the sight of your boys and the way the sunlight made their eyes glow). her eyes drifted to your thighs as she put in very little effort to hide a laugh. dark clone trooper eyes decided to see what was so amusing to the togruta, and they choked on whatever words they were contemplating.
on your thighs were rex and cody, left and right respectively. or, more accurately, on your thighs were six-inch tattoos of rex and cody.
both men were in quite show-offy poses, appearing to have the intent to make them look like pin-ups. the lower half of their armor was equipped but they were shirtless, faint details of scars and sweat appearing to glisten in imaginary sunlight.
cody’s face was set in a smolder the likes of which would send half the women in the galaxy into puddles at the commander’s feet. his dc-15a was held aloft in his right hand while his left arm was holding his helmet in place in the crook of his hip. his left foot was stepping on a small heap of droids which brought his knee up a bit, and he was facing the inked rex on the opposite thigh.
rex’s wild smile could catch the soggiest piece of kindling alight with the allure and charm it held. his eyes were sparkling with a pleasant mirth not often seen in the man. both hands wielded his trusted dc-17’s, the right blaster pointed at the droids under cody’s foot while the left was pointed in the air, blaster bolts coming out of both. his helmet was under his right foot, jaig eyes almost peering into your soul and welding marks visible from his customization of the phase 2 helmet.
commander and captain are both beginning to flush at the art in front of them. they were flattered to see drawings of themselves look so dashing, and seeing it on your body roused feelings they had spent years repressing. their biggest question now was whether their likenesses on your body translated into something more on your end.
“nice to finally meet my friend’s muses,” briel quips, “it’s hard to get her to talk about something that isn’t you two when she’s plastered.” she pauses a moment, thinking of her next words and chuckling to herself. “she’s barely spent three consecutive days completely sober since she got here, which means that you two are almost all she talks about.”
this deepened the heat in their cheeks as you playfully swatted at briel’s shoulder. “that is not true!” a moment of silence. “wait, what day is it? that miiiight make a difference.”
rex chortles at the admission. “glad to see you enjoying yourself, cyare. but kix would be enraged to hear that you’ve been drinking nearly every day for two months, and we can’t exactly blame him.” he grinned as he took an experimental sip of the drink you gave him. it was stronger than he expected, but it had an underlying sweetness not often found in margaritas. he liked it.
sitting up, your dress covered your ink as you expertly drank from the margarita in cody’s hand while he still held it. the commander sent you a soft glare, wondering why you didn’t just get a new drink but enjoying the moment nonetheless. “kix shmix, his face isn’t on my thigh so i don’t really care what he has to say right now.” you lean toward cody and rex before whispering, “you didn’t bring him, did you?”
all three of them guffawed at the question, you joining their laughter solely because of how happy the joy radiating from your boys’ force signatures made you.
calling them your boys had become second nature after mere months of fighting beside them. you spent an inane amount of time with them during planning and actual combat, and were just as much their general as their actual generals were (despite you not carrying the honorific). any free time was spent with one or the other if available, but if they were both occupied you would make your way toward the barracks and join a few games of sabacc.
there were nights you’d spend in the barracks with either battalion (depends on which group you were assigned to at the time) and be welcomed there as if you were a fellow clone. they taught you to play sabacc and you enjoyed playing with them despite the fact you had the most rotten luck with the game.
winning didn’t carry any weight when you were able to spend time with rex and cody, shamelessly basking in the way they always seemed to have some sort of physical contact with you every moment possible. when rex and/or cody returned from whatever responsibilities held them earlier, the men were quick to relinquish them a seat next to you with a sly grin.
their vode noticed the affection shared for the jedi on sabacc night number two and didn’t hesitate to spread word of it around to the rest of their battalions and beyond. on the nights you accompanied them on trips to 79’s, men under rex and cody both (read: fives and boil) made sure that the rest of their brothers and the occasional civvie knew that you three were off-limits to anyone but each other. you were their jetti & they were your captain and commander, no one would get between that even if it wasn’t decided among those in question.
“nah, he’s kept his head in his work. he just got his civvie medical license, started his own private practice on naboo.” rex was extremely happy for his brother, although it was strange to not see him nearly every day. it took a while before he was used to the lack of vode around him at all moments, but cody has been a massive help with that transition.
cody nodded before adding onto his brother’s statement. “and besides, we’re not that cruel, cyar’ika.” you grinned at the endearing tone, choosing that moment to snag another drink from the glass in cody’s hand. he swatted at your hand gently but didn’t put up a fight otherwise, just smiling at how carefree you’d become.
during their comms you did sound at peace, and the times where you’d appear via hologram to him your posture was less rigid than it was during wartime. scarif was good for you, cody knew this. the knowledge of your happiness, however, couldn’t prevent selfish thoughts from returning to the front of his mind. thoughts of you leaving scarif with him and rex, lighting up their apartment better than the sun with nothing but a smile were pipe dreams he indulged in when nightmares of war caught up to him.
“y’know,” you began, “no one would ever tell me what that word really meant.” the men froze, trying to play it off. they were saved only by the fact you kept talking. “none of the men ever gave me a straight answer, just saying that it was something you say to someone you trusted. i even asked duchess satine about it when i was on mandalore. she asked who was using the word and when i told her it was you two, she just grinned like a tooka with a rat tail hanging from its mouth.”
duchess satine was most definitely going to be receiving a gift in the near future.
briel chose that moment to speak for the first time in a while, crossing her arms behind her head. “i’ve never been to mandalore nor heard a lick of what i’m guessing is its native language, but you’d have to be a fool to not guess its meaning by now.” her words were directed at you but they made the men sputter.
“what is that supposed to mean, brie?”
“seriously? please tell me you’re kidding.”
briel was absolutely incredulous. how could a member of the highly revered jedi order, known for the wisdom of its members, not read between the lines? they were giving her plenty to work with in terms of evidence of their affections that they weren’t hiding very well, how did you not know?!
silence followed her words and she came to the startling realization that you were, in fact, not kidding. “look at them, these two adore you! they followed you here like stray tookas when you didn’t comm them enough.” the men didn’t even bother looking offended as they were called out by the togruta. they were scared you’d be disgruntled at the blatant show of care for you but briel wasn’t done. “sithspit y/n, you got tattoos of them because you said you missed them so much!”
hold on, rewind, what did she just say?!
“you… missed us?” rex’s voice was softer than anyone had heard it be in a long time. part of him aches to throw his drink over his shoulder and take you into his arms with no regard to the outside world, yet he restrains himself. this could very well be a trap, an illusion or extremely detailed dream the likes of which he’s never experienced.
then again, how would that explain his mind creating a taste for something he’s never had before?
he concluded that this was indeed real, and he very well could do exactly as his heart desires if he let go for just a moment, just long enough for the contents of his glass to seep into the sand and his calloused hands to roam your exposed skin.
but he also remembers long talks with his ori’vod about their mutual affections for you. how selfish and uncaring it would be for him to try and keep you to himself after spending so many nights lamenting with cody about the way you made them both feel more human. the way you tethered them to sanity when the war threatened to dispose of what little control they had over themselves or their fates, the softness of your fingers intertwined with theirs whenever you had the chance. both men would contemplate the way you’d taste as you downed several shots at 79’s or cups of the contraband moonshine brewed by the men, wondering how much would be the alcohol and how much would be you and wishing that they could find out.
it would be a betrayal far greater and even more despicable than that of palpatine and the republic, and rex didn’t think he could handle losing the respect of his ori’vod no matter what was given in return. not even you.
the togruta woman officially lost the last speck of patience she held for the clueless, lovesick trio, groaning that she gave up as she left them to their own devices.
you were confused. why would you not miss them? did those years of fighting next to them and caring about them and loving them not translate to the idea of missing them when they were gone? yeah you were a little tipsy when you got your tattoos, but that didn’t change the facts as to why you got them: you wanted cody and rex by your side and moments spent without them were moments spent unhappy. they were your boys, the two reasons you kept fighting in that cursed war instead of returning to the temple with your tail between your legs at the first sign of combat.
cody downed his margarita with a solid gulp before taking your right hand in both of his, face twisted almost identically to his brother’s while processing the information you presented. he marveled in the familiar grooves and calluses from battle that were beginning to soften, thoroughly enjoying the fact he didn’t have to hide anything from you or the rest of the galaxy about the love - cody was sure now that this was indeed love - he held for you and you alone.
“is that true, cyar’ika?” cody’s voice was sickeningly hopeful. he’s never allowed himself to hope, knowing that diving too deep into desire could lead to consequences tantamount to death. hearing you stumble over your words as you admitted to loving him, loving him and rex both in the same capacity, cracked the last mask of stoicism he had in his reserves. his mouth was smiling but his eyes were wet, and anyone who didn’t know him would think the man was karking mad.
you weren’t as focused on your boys as you would have been any other moment, too busy trying to figure out what you said for cody to ask about and oh. holy shit, i said all of that out loud. then, a brief moment of clarity. i said every bit of that, but they’re not leaving. they’re instead moving closer, taking my hands in theirs and then- “have i ever lied to either of you?” your heart once again overpowered your brain, taking over your vocal chords and bringing voice to your thoughts.
rex nestled his glass into the sand before going to his knees in front of you, eyes sparkling from both the scarif sun and unshed tears. “you could never, ner’jetti.” he rested his chin on your knee not blocked by cody, his subconscious deciding to nuzzle his head into the hand that had come up to his face.
within seconds, the clunky armor had taken to the sand. they didn’t startle at the sudden exposure to just their bottom blacks because they could feel the soft humming of the force around them, knowing that it was merely you making them more comfortable. you were pulling them toward you and into your reclined chair, rex’s chin in one hand and cody’s hands in the other. they were quick to take a hint, immediately moving to either side of you to lay on their sides, facing their jetti with soft smiles.
rex made quick work of wrapping an arm around your waist, face burying itself into the crook of your neck as best he could. he inhaled your scent, the familiar ozone that came with the force mingling wonderfully with scarif’s ocean water and the tropical drinks you’ve been keeping yourself busy with.
cody tangled one hand into your hair, fingers softly moving as he rested his other arm slightly above his brother’s. the hand touching your waist softly stroked your side as he let his eyes drift closed, the force wrapped around him like a blanket of protection.
no one spoke of love in the hours you spent wrapped in each other’s arms in that uncomfortable-for-three-people chair. the admissions and conveyance of all the love held between the three of you was saved for the privacy of their ship. cody and rex worshiped you and you did the same for them, no one allowing there to be a single doubt as to where your hearts belong.
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petite-ely · 4 years
Text
Together
Pairing: JJ Maybanks x female reader
Warnings: mentions of social anxiety and other mental health issues, slight swearing and slight mention of underage drinking.
A/N: this story is mainly based upon my own experiences and struggles with anxiety and social anxiety. I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing mental illnesses. If you need help you can always talk to me or contact crisis hotlines. It gets better, I know it. (Also this is the first time I post on tumblr and I am a very anxious bby please send feedback, it would make me very happy, okay thank you.)
Summary: Reader has been suffering from social anxiety for a long time. One night, everything falls apart and she hopes nobody notices.
Word count: 1,700 ish
This represents y/n’s thought and this jj’s.
Picture found on Pinterest, all credits to rightful owner.
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It was a typical Friday night in the outer banks, the pogues had organized yet another kegger and the party was roaring. Y/n was sitting on a hard lump of wood, enjoying the music and the dancing flames of the bonfire. You could even see a soft smile drawn onto her lips. She felt good.
That changed quickly. One minute she was fine and the next she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Emptiness. It was all she could feel. Like she was nothing but a large void. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and frightened.
It happened more and more lately. Small moments of disorientation where she couldn’t feel anything at all. These episodes usually happened when she was alone and didn’t last very long, but this time it was different. It felt much worse.
You’re so disgusting, and pathetic.
Not wanting anyone to see her in this state, she left silently, ashamed of herself. It’s not as though anyone would miss her anyway. She wasn’t very popular. She had friends, of course, but not that many.
There was John B, a friendly guy who everybody knew because, well he was John B.
There was also Pope, who was kind and smart, but that everyone knew because of his father Heyward’s business.
Then there was Kie, a cute hippie girl with a passion for environmental issues. Born a kook, but a pogue at heart.
And finally there was JJ, one of the best surfer in the Outer Banks. He was well known for his charm, being a pothead and his tendencies of getting into fights with kooks.
The five of them hung out almost every day and yet if you showed a photo of the group to an islander, they probably wouldn’t be able to identify y/n.
She was invisible, unseen. She was that one girl who was always with the four pogues. The one who nobody chose for projects. The one teachers never picked on. The one who no one noticed. She was nothing.
As she was sitting on the damp sand, small waves crashing onto her bare feet, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, tell the whole world how she felt, but no sound came out. She couldn’t speak. Only her breathing was heard. She couldn’t move either, and yet she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.
-
“You better reuse that plastic cup Maybank, or I’ll make you eat it,” threatened Kie, after JJ placed his empty cup on the ground.
The boy rolled his eyes and threw the red cup at his friend. “Keep it safe for me, I’m going to find y/n.”
“She was sitting by the bonfire, like five minutes ago,” said John B.
“Well not anymore,” muttered the blond when his eyes landed on the empty seat.
JJ wandered around the boneyard, looking for his friend. A bad feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. So after looking around the boneyard for more than half an hour, the boy became more and more worried.
Biting off the nails of his hand, he scanned the crowd once more. Y/n and him had been friends since they were little and they knew each other better than anyone else. He knew that she would never leave a party without saying goodbye.
Where could she be, he wondered, taking his hat off to run his hand through it.
A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the small silhouette of his friend, sitting on the beach, away from the party. As he got closer, he noticed the shiny streams on her cheeks he remembered how distant she had been recently.
How she smiled less frequently and how she didn’t talk as much. How she didn’t eat as much and how her leg was always bouncing under the table. How her fists we’re always closed tightly and how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes and the nothingness in her gaze. It was like she wasn’t there anymore.
JJ’s face twisted into a sad expression. He felt bad for not noticing it earlier, like it was his fault. It pained him to see her this way, in such a distressed state.
He sat next to her, making her flinch in surprise. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?” She wiped her tears away and nodded her head.
“Y/n, please don’t lie.” His voice was small and full of empathy, like he felt the same way she did.
So pathetic, even when doing nothing you’re hurting your friends. How could anyone love you, she said to herself.
“I- uh I-“ she tried to speak but failed, choking on her words.
Panic filled the girl’s mind as she was suddenly aware of what was happening. Her heart tightened in her chest and pain shot up in her rib cage. Her hands were shaking even more and her legs felt numb.
JJ noticed how her eyes were filled with fear and how loud and uneven her breathing had become. She was having a panic attack. It had happened a few times before so he knew how to help her.
“Hey, hey hey,” he placed his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’re okay. I’m here with you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Now I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly what I say, can you do that?” She nodded, JJ gave her a reassuring smile.
“Okay, good. Now every time you feel a wave crashing on your feet, I want you to take a deep breath and when you feel another one coming, you let it all out, “ she nodded once more.
They both looked down at the ocean and waited for a wave to come. “In,” the wave left the shore slowly and came back a few seconds later. “and out.”
“good, you’re doing good. In and out. That’s it.” JJ’s hand was now tracing small patterns on the back of the girl’s back, so softly she could barely feel it. “Now I want you to talk to me, can you do that for me?”
Her breathing had now slowed down to a regular rhythm and so had her tremors, but she had terror spread across her face.
“I want you-,” he paused wiping away with his free hand the tears off of her warm cheeks, “-to tell me three things that you can see right now.”
“I-“ she shook her head in denial, “no.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay you can do it y/nn.” His voice was warm and so reassuring. Just hearing it helped her calm down.
“I- uh I can, I can se see the ocean,” her voice was shaky and weak.
“Huh uh, keep breathing.”
“and um the uh the-the stars,” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath, her hand reaching out to his. The blond boy flinched at the contact, her skin was freezing cold.
“I-I can also see your eyes,” she finished, her voice sounding smoother and more confident.
JJ offered a warm smile, “good, now tell me two things you can hear.”
Y/n broke the eye contact and started a tte ocean, concentrating on what she could hear. “I hear music playing from the party and uh the waves crashing.”
She was no longer crying or shaking but JJ kept going. “ Name one thing you can feel.”
“Only one?” He shook his head in agreement.
“Your heart,” she stared into his eyes, “I can feel beating in my hand.”
“Good.”
JJ looked away silently. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he didn’t. Instead he remained quiet and admired the star shining above his head.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “It’s just that lately, it’s like I can’t feel anything at all-“ she wrapped her arms around her knees, “-it’s like the only thing I care about is what others will think about me.”
“Don’t wear that skirt, people will think you’re a slut. Don’t say anything or they’ll think you’re annoying. Did you see them, they’re laughing at you, shouldn’t have said anything. Did you really say that? Ugh you should have let somebody else talk, what a waste of time. He didn’t answer you? Well that’s because he hates you. There’s a party? Don’t go. Nobody likes you anyway, they’re just gonna judge you, they hate you.”
“Y/n, you know none of that is true, we do love you.”
“I know, but I can’t help it! I can’t stop it. And I’m so tired of feeling that way. I just want it to stop.” A single tear rolled down on the side of her face.
“Oh god, y/n.”
“I’m so dumb. I’m here talking to you about my little problems, but you’ve got problems much worse than mine. Jesus I’m so stupid.”
JJ looked at the girl next to him. She looked so small and vulnerable. He could see the pain in her expression and it hurt him so much. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he was afraid of breaking her. She looked so fragile.
If only she knew how loved she is.
“No y/n, you’re not stupid or dumb. It’s not because I have a shitty life and a jack ass for a dad that your problems are not valid. You’re living something really intense and scary right now but I can assure you that I understand. We’ll get trough this together okay?”
They were both crying messes at this point, but neither of them cared anymore. The small girl opened her arms to boy beside her. Through her gesture a message was hidden, and JJ understood it perfectly. He held her tightly against his chest. Her tears were wetting his shoulder and his were falling onto the messe that was her hair. Her hands were grasping firmly that soft cotton of his sweatshirt, afraid he would let go.
“Don’t let go of me, please,” she implored. “I don’t want you to leave me, ever. I can’t do this without you J.”
“I won’t y/n, I won’t leave you, I promise.”
“We’ll get through it, we’ll get you help and we’ll survive this together, okay?” A sob left the blond’s mouth. “I promise, okay, I promise.”
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airgetlamhh · 3 years
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Thoughts on Lostbelt 3
So, Lostbelt 3. 
Just came out, and this time I played it in good time. Hopefully that’ll continue! Spoilers ahead for Lostbelt 3, and also for Qin Shi Huang’s interlude which has yet to come to NA. I’ll mark that section specifically so people can skip over it.
You might remember that I did one of these for Lostbelt 2, and if you haven’t seen that you can find it here. These are freeform and have no real set structure, they’re just one big post for me to gather and explain all my thoughts about the story. I’ll talk about characters, themes, pacing, etc. as they occur to me, and so expect this to be fairly chonky.
Now, once again, I’m going to lay out the thesis statement ahead of time, so people can feel free to skip over or read as they please. I expect this will be somewhat more controversial than my opinion about Gotterdammerung.
Lostbelt 3, the Synchronized Intelligence Nation, is bad.
I had wondered how to start this, but over time my thoughts kept coming back to the pacing. There are sixteen chapters in the Lostbelt, and almost nothing of any consequence whatsoever happens for the first eight. We fight Akuta, she runs, we fight Akuta, she runs, we spent like eight battles fighting the beasts Koyanskaya let loose and they amount to nothing and have no plot relevance whatsoever, we fight Xiang Yu and then he runs, and then we fight Xiang Yu and Lanling and then we’re forced into a truce and then nothing happens until Spartacus leads the people of the Lostbelt to rebellion and Qin drops the meteor and the march to Xiangyang begins.
Nothing happens. 
Obviously that’s an exaggeration, there some events. Qin examines the Shadow Border, we meet some of the characters, but that’s all, really. A solid half of the Lostbelt is almost entirely useless faffing about, and then it rams the accelerator so absolutely nothing has any time to land and we speedrun our way through it. To put it in perspective, it’s one chapter shorter than Gotterdammerung, which was already five chapters shorter than Anastasia, and it feels significantly shorter than Gotterdammerung too. I complained in my write-up of that that it felt like things just happened for no reason, but at least things happened. In comparison, half of Lostbelt 3 feels bereft of content, the only important events of which could be condensed into about three chapters tops.
It feels like it’s a mid-year 1 Singularity. We have detours to kill random beasts unrelated to the actual plot, we get interrupted by fights as we try to talk, we faff about for ages and then speedrun our way to the actual climax. By the end of the Lostbelt, I was left with a lingering sense of “Wait, is that it?” 
Moving on from the pacing, I think I should probably address the characters next. This is likely to be the largest section, since so much of the issues in the Lostbelt come from the characters and it’s only by talking about the characters that I can really engage with the themes. I’ll start from the least relevant and work my way up, meaning that I’ll be addressing basically the entire conglomerate of characters that aren’t Qin, Yu, Xiang Yu, Spartacus, Liangyu or of course Jing Ke.
Red Hare and Chen Gong, they’re comedy, make no mistake. They’re there to add a bit of humor to scenes and it’s fine, they’re funny. It’s a mistake, in my opinion, to follow such a powerful scene as Spartacus saving the villagers and it inspiring them so much that the Lostbelt reconnects with the Throne of Heroes by having it result in nothing but comic relief, but they’re inoffensive. 
Koyanskaya, she’s Koyanskaya. There’s a bit more hinting about her true nature here, but besides that she’s exactly the same. Nothing much happens besides that truly gratuitous torture scene that made me glad FGO’s story isn’t voiced, because it really was just deeply uncomfortable. I think that after two chapters and a prologue full of her being untouchable and smug and constantly ahead of everyone she did need to stumble a bit, but having her get punked by Shuwen and then gruesomely and gratuitously tortured while she screams and begs for help was completely unnecessary.
Han Xin and Li Shuwen, they’re fine. I’m not much of a fan of the whole stuff about Li Shuwen being so powerful as to stand up to four Servants, three of whom are meant to be insane powerhouses in their own right, but we’ll get to that in a bit. Han Xin when he’s allowed to just go apeshit at the end is one of the very few genuine delights about the Lostbelt, I really enjoyed him. 
Lanling is a disappointment not because he’s badly written, but because he’s barely written. We start the Lostbelt to a flashback of his death and it sets us up to expect a bunch from him, but all that we really get is that he’s loyal to Yu. His only purpose in the story is to function as a connection for her outside of Xiang Yu, and boy howdy does this whole thing fail, we’ll get to that too. If he’d had more time, I expect he’d be quite good, but as it is he’s barely in the story and his only major character moment outside of Yu is when he tries assassinating Guda and admits he’s not really built for it.
Mordred and Nezha are there respectively to bounce off Spartacus and to reveal that Xiang Yu is based on her body respectively. That’s it. They vanish from the story for a good few chapters and I didn’t notice because Nezha becomes irrelevant as soon as you meet Xiang Yu and Mordred becomes irrelevant as soon as Spartacus died. You could remove both and the story would change not at all, and while I do think that Mordred’s role in giving Spartacus someone to bounce off of was nice and I enjoyed their interactions, introducing a whole character just to bounce off another means that when the other character is gone, the one you’ve introduced is just there. It’s insanely noticeable with Mordred.
Gordolf is a genuine delight. I think my honest favorite scene besides Spartacus’s in the chapter is when he and Guda have to decide who gets the only dose of antidote. Guda flat out telling them what hand they’d throw was perfectly in character but I genuinely adored Gordolf completely throwing the match and faking that it was an accident and that Guda got the antidote fair and square, after having it pointed out that he never once tried to lord it over Guda that he saved their life from the poison. When Guda forces him to drink it, Gordolf’s complete dedication to getting them the antidote and refusing to let Guda die because he’s the director and he is personally responsible for all their safety, that’s good stuff. I love Gordolf very very much, and I think that this Lostbelt really gives him some shining moments that emphasize why he’s so wonderful.
I think that is basically all the minor characters barring the village boy, who I will get to in a bit, but if you’re noticing a trend it’s that they’re mostly fine, inoffensive. Nothing stands out as truly genuinely very bad, but for the most part they’re all wasted potential. They exist to fulfil exactly one role, and then hang around long past their welcome in most cases, with Han Xin, Li Shuwen, and Lanling managing to avoid that, albeit in the first two more due to their overall lack of presence until the very end.
Now, Liangyu. Here’s where things start to break down a bit.
In this Lostbelt, Qin Liangyu is a warrior who distinguished herself enough to be frozen in Mt. Li, where Qin keeps their heroes to be used when necessary. Alongside Han Xin, she’s defrosted to handle the Chaldea threat. Her major point of focus in the chapter is engaging with the “Confucianism” that Chaldea represents. She’s the one who hears the poem first, she’s who reports it to Qin, she’s who steals the Shadow Border and who ends up confronting Chaldea first when they get to Xiangyang. When we finally get to hear her conviction, why she is so willing to fight for her home...
It’s revealed that Qin destroyed her village, her family. They had been inspired, not to rebel, but to simply seek to govern themselves and live as a nation outside of Qin’s domain. Qin’s response was to fire a meteor at their village. When the instigator escaped, he tried to do it again, and that was why Liangyu fights. To avoid the needless death and suffering that is guaranteed by opposing Qin.
No one is horrified by this. No one reacts to her blaming the victims for wanting a better life. No one points out that her loyalty comes entirely from a place of fear and loss, that Qin took away everything she held dear and then threatened to do it again and again and again. She fights because Qin would otherwise wipe out everyone, and this is heralded as splendid loyalty and honest devotion, despite the fact that it’s effectively the same logic as why someone might not resist their abusive partner. That is all Liangyu is meant to do, show us some kind of loyalty and validity to Qin’s path, and they even have Mashu lost for words when she is confronted. All to show us that true loyalty is submission, and that it’s a valid and good reason to fight, to be too scared of the tyrant above you wiping out everything if you don’t. Not something to oppose Qin for, but something to commend them for inspiring.
That reading, despite being a clearly obvious one, isn’t ever once entertained by the story. No one points out Qin’s tyranny as the starting point for Liangyu’s suffering, even though it clearly is. It’s not that it’s refuted, it just never once comes up, because the characters acknowledging it or challenging it would hurt the clumsy point it really wants to make.
As a digression, this Lostbelt is a step back for Mashu. Her climatic character moment in Part 1 is rejecting a world without suffering and having the purest conviction necessary to block Ars Almodel Salomonis, but now she’s shaken and starts thinking that maybe that was a mistake all because it was only a possible future she rejected with Goetia, instead of the actual people in front of her? I can’t see that as anything but a regression, considering it was a point that her conviction was able to overcome the most powerful attack in the series even as it destroyed her body to protect those behind her. It’s done almost entirely to make us question whether or not Qin has a point, and given that the answer to that is a resounding and obvious “no” all it ends up doing is taking a hammer to Mashu’s solidly built up character every time she responds to an obviously flawed argument with “...” to give it unearned validity.
Spartacus next. He is an honest to goodness genuine joy. There are a few bright spots in this Lostbelt and Spartacus is one of them. He is very well written, allowed to think and philosophize about the nature of rebellion and whether it’s needed, and his musings on why he rebelled and whether or not it was justified to rebel against Qin when their people smiled so innocently like he’d always hoped for was unironically fantastic character work. His sacrifice reigniting the will to ask for more inside the people to the point of connecting to the Throne once more is absolutely fantastic, and his interactions with Mordred are great too. I absolutely do not have a single bad thing to say about him, he’s just wonderful. 
Jing Ke. She’s a delight. She is a constant denier of everything that Qin suggests, and she functions as a beacon of good sense in the chapter. Where others are falling prey to some nonsense writing that makes them wonder if they’re doing the right thing, Jing is constantly pointing out the horrible, horrible tyranny going on, and constantly reminding people that Qin is in fact, a monster. Her final moments, getting to trick Qin into downloading a virus, arguing against them on philosophical grounds and then mocking them when they’re surprised that she would use that as a chance to kill them, and the argument itself of humanity’s virtues being in its ability to communicate and progress even if they don’t have a certainty of peace ahead of them, all of it was great. I’m sad she died and never got a chance to see Guda again in the Lostbelt, but all in all, she was well written.
Xiang Yu and Yu Meiren. This is where things get really, truly, genuinely disappointing. As concepts, they’re really cool. Xiang Yu as a machine built from the body of a god with the ability to calculate and compute the future giving him an inhuman mindset is a really neat idea, as is Meiren being effectively a True Ancestor. Them finding love as two non-humans who understood each other where no one else did is good in theory. 
In practice, Xiang Yu and Yu Meiren’s romance, the emotional core of the chapter, is without question the worst romance written in the Lostbelts thus far, and probably the worst romance in the game. It isn’t until chapter 13 of this 16 chapter game that we get any exploration of it at all beyond Meiren being devoted to Xiang Yu to the point that she completely cripples her own agency as an interesting and individual character to work entirely for Qin when they threaten Xiang Yu’s life, and the exploration we do get is just...explaining how Xiang Yu is a robot and how he lived in Panhuman History. No examination of their mutual feelings, just Meiren describing how her Xiang Yu lived.
This Lostbelt is not a reuniting of lovers long past. This is Meiren finding a man who shared an origin with her lover and devoting herself entirely to him, even though they aren’t the same person at all. This could have been an incredible hook!
Imagine if this Lostbelt looked at Meiren’s two thousand years of stagnation in mourning for Xiang Yu and her sole desire being to be reunited with him and then it gave her her wish. She betrayed her own history for the Lostbelt’s, because it gave her a chance to see her beloved again, but this Xiang Yu is not her Xiang Yu. He doesn’t even answer to the same name, doesn’t recognise her at all. Having thrown away everything that connected her to Panhuman History just to see her beloved again, she is now trapped in a world she doesn’t recognise with a man who isn’t her Xiang Yu, her sole connection being...Gao Changgong, a regular human from Panhuman History. The greatest of ironies, her only meaningful connection being one of the humans she hates, because she sacrificed everything for a man who doesn’t even know her name.
Lostbelt 3 is a story about stagnation and the dangers of easy ignorance, but Meiren’s story doesn’t engage with that central theme whatsoever. Hers is a story entirely about how she merely existed just to exist before she met Xiang Yu and after he died, and her only experience being happy was with him. A few short years in literal millennia of existence are all that she cares about, and indeed she doesn’t change even slightly over all those years. And despite this stagnation leading her to consign her own history to death, the history that her Xiang Yu is from and fought for, the story never once engages with that. She is, in fact, rewarded in the end by becoming a Heroic Spirit and getting reunited with her Xiang Yu. 
And really, that’s what gets me. They have a perfect setup to tie into the theme of the Lostbelt, how an uncertain future of progression is sincerely better than a stagnant peace born of ignorance, and they don’t tie their Crypter into it nearly as well as LB1 or even LB2. Kadoc is obsessed with conflict and overcoming Guda to prove his own strength in a reflection of how Lostbelt 1 is a hellscape where might makes right, and Ophelia is stuck doing nothing but following her role without a choice in a reflection of Surtr existing only to fulfill his role, being capable only of destruction and incapable of changing that. In contrast...Meiren doesn’t engage with SIN’s theme of the worthiness of peace at the cost of stagnation at all, really.
I’m talking a lot about what she could be instead of what she is, because what she is is obsessed with Xiang Yu. Her sole concern in every single appearance besides her single moment of independent characterization with Gao on his deathbed is Xiang Yu. She sacrifices her initial independence to obey Qin for Xiang Yu’s sake, she fights for nothing more than Xiang Yu’s sake, she wants nothing more than to be with Xiang Yu forever, even if it’s not her Xiang Yu, even if it’s sacrificing the world her Xiang Yu fought for. She chooses the peace of stagnation and is never once punished or even questioned for it. She tells Lostbelt Xiang Yu about his history in her world, and then he tells her that he understands why her Xiang Yu loves her, and then decides on the spot that he loves her too. That’s it.
Every other existing romance that they play back into in Fate is one that they put effort into selling. I mean, just think about Sigurd and Bryn! Imagine if, instead of all the little touches and bits in the chapter where they go in hard on selling that Sigurd and Bryn are madly in love with each other, they just didn’t have that. Imagine if Kadoc and Anastasia barely interacted except for Kadoc telling Anastasia how her past went. It really feels like Urobuchi looked at Meiren and Xiang Yu’s existing famous romance and decided that he just didn’t need to sell it, even though it literally wasn’t the same people involved.
 And to be clear, I understand the intention. Xiang Yu has an alien mindset because of his calculation of the future, and this alien mindset means that he does things that are hard to understand for us. But at the end of the day, Lostbelt Xiang Yu hears a single story about himself in Panhuman History and decides that it makes sense that, given everything he and Meiren experienced there, that they would fall in love. And then he chooses to fall in love too, in the span of a single conversation. That isn’t believable, but more to the point it isn’t satisfying. This isn’t a great reuniting of lovers, it’s Meiren telling a stranger how a hypothetical alternate timeline version of him lived and him deciding he loves her because of that one single story. 
And the way this love is represented is...it’s kinda typical Urobuchi. Meiren’s tragedy is undersold and given second billing to talking about how tragic Xiang Yu’s life was and how bad it made her feel and how she wished she could have done something, while LB Xiang Yu ignores her plea to stay and to not fight anymore by declaring that he must fight for the Lostbelt because of his programming, not for her, and then after he’s defeated and Guda beats Qin he declares that he’s actually madly in love with Meiren and will ignore her stated wishes again to fight until he dies, whereupon he promptly talks about dying with regret for leaving Meiren behind and quotes the poem and everyone claps. This great romance begins by Meiren telling Xiang Yu about how sad his life was in her history, is defined solely by Xiang Yu doing anything he wants at any time while Meiren feels sad about it, and ends with Xiang Yu ignoring Meiren’s wishes to sacrifice himself for absolutely nothing and to have it later revealed he knew exactly how she would react to this and did it anyway.
It’s not that I don’t buy the romance, it’s that I can’t buy it. It’s every terrible romance you’ve seen in fiction before where there’s no chemistry to sell it but the author keeps telling you how perfect they are for each other, only in this case the author tells you how perfect Meiren and Panhistory Xiang Yu are for each other and then shrugs and decides that Lostbelt Xiang Yu is basically the same anyway so it works. And it really, really does not. 
The Xiang Yu of Panhistory is somewhat interesting from what we hear in the chapter, but Lostbelt Xiang Yu is very bland and Yu Meiren is just a tragically wasted character. Instead of a story of being shaken out of stagnation and learning to grow and move forward, we get a story of stagnation being the good and right choice for her. Instead of a story of trying to make the past happen again instead of acknowledging that they are two different people who cannot simply pretend everything is as it was, we get a story where Lostbelt Xiang Yu decides it makes sense that an alternate universe version of himself would fall in love with Meiren, and then skips all the actual development to decide he’s madly in love with her too. Instead of a story of Meiren realizing that her closest connection for the longest time was a living human and that she can live for more than just the memory of a man long dead, we get Meiren’s character being solely, completely about Xiang Yu from beginning to end, and even later in Chaldea where she exists for nothing more than “haha married couple” jokes.
There is, to be clear, an attempt at relating this to the other theme of the chapter, humanity. Meiren and Xiang Yu are both discriminated against for their inhumanity, and it’s pointed out that they’re so fitting for each other because they, as non-humans, understood each other. I think this could have worked if it was given more emphasis, but as it stands it just kinda...isn’t. It, and they, take a backseat to Qin’s emphasis on this theme, so all this theme does for them is another justification as to why they are totally in love and why Urobuchi doesn’t have to write them actually being in love.
And then Xiang Yu dies, and Meiren goes crazy because her entire world and every facet of her character revolves around one man, and we have to kill her because he ignored her pleas and then died knowing he would die and knowing she would go crazy when he died. This, after spending the entire chapter from the first time we meet her being completely ineffective and failing at every turn, only becoming a threat once she devours her own Servant and even then only for a few minutes before she ceases to be relevant. Thanks, Urobuchi. Love it when you write women.
It’s a genuine disappointment, because you could do so much with Meiren and Lostbelt Xiang Yu bonding as themselves, not as Meiren from 2000 years ago and Xiang Yu from Panhistory, and with Meiren being able to honour her love without letting it chain her down to stagnation like it did in practice. But they don’t do any of that. They tell us that this great romance exists without putting in any of the work, and then expect it to work. And for me? It didn’t, at all. It is again, without a doubt the worst romance in this arc, and probably the worst romance in FGO.
Finally, Qin. 
I think Qin is a fantastic villain. They are completely, utterly loathsome in every way, and the early chapters with Spartacus and Jing Ke around really highlight it. Spartacus’s musings about rebellion culminate in a reassurance that it is in fact right and just to rebel against the oppressor that is Qin despite the peace they offer, and Jing Ke consistently and constantly responds to all their justifications by pointing out what absolute drivel they are. It is a sincerely excellent setup for a Lostbelt King that isn’t a tragic case of someone trying to save what they can after a horrible accident, but one who in their arrogance created a hellscape that was pruned solely due to their own tyranny. Qin is the perfect balance of hypocritical and arrogant and cruel while being utterly convinced of their own perfection to make a fantastic villain to break out of the “tragic king after apocalypse” type we’d had for the first two Lostbelts, and has the perfect ingredients to a tie-in back to Goetia and how Goetia earned the title of “King of Humans” in their final moments.
But, unfortunately, the chapter starts softening up on them as it goes on. Where before, we had people calling them out for tyranny and obvious wrongdoing, by the end we have Holmes praising them for shouldering the difficult responsibility of humanity all by themselves and being the one we get on our Lostbelt CE, a spot reserved before for the inhabitants of the Lostbelt that we befriend. Because, ultimately, the Lostbelt doesn’t want to condemn Qin. 
What Qin does is monstrous in the extreme, but by the end of the Lostbelt it feels like the game has forgotten that. Instead of pointing out the obvious problem in Liangyu’s loyalty being based on the certainty that Qin would murder everyone if she didn’t do it for them, Mashu and Guda have to just accept that it’s valid. Instead of reminding themselves of Spartacus and Jing Ke’s rejection of Qin as a tyrant, they praise them for taking over the responsibility of humanity. Instead of having the Lostbelt represented by the boy who dared to look up and dream of something more, it’s instead represented by Qin descending to live among humanity in their final days. Even Qin’s final act for Meiren has them claim without irony that they guide their people by the light of reason, when the entire chapter has been about how Qin uses threats of incredible violence to control everyone and how they had to conquer the world by force to enact this horrible regime, and no one points out the shocking hypocrisy in Qin claiming that they guide through reason instead of, you know. Giant meteors. 
I didn’t name that boy, because the story doesn’t name that boy. In a story that is ostensibly about the horror of humanity being stripped of everything that makes them an individual and showing us that the spark and drive to be different and to learn and grow and change still exists even after over two thousand years of Qin trying to stamp it out, they don’t name the boy. This isn’t because names don’t exist in Qin’s empire, because explicitly the heroes are all named, and implicitly such a massive divergence would need to be highlighted in some way, so it’s not an intentional dehumanization which would actually fit. 
Instead, despite this child being the first citizen who dares to enjoy a poem and who dares to step outside the boundaries of his village, despite him being proof positive that Qin’s tireless attempts at stamping out the human spirit are doomed to failure even after ruling the entire world for hundreds of years, despite him being inspired by Spartacus’s cry of rebellion against the tyranny of the world he was born in...he doesn’t have a name. And that really hurts the Lostbelt, I feel, because it just doesn’t take the time to even name our Lostbelt friend. He is, ultimately, not important. The symbol of the Lostbelt is Qin as the ultimate human, despite the entire point of the Lostbelt being that it’s a rejection of this concept, that Qin’s choice of becoming the one and only human is wrong and that the individuality of Panhistory is superior. Instead of enshrining the boy who dared to be different in the CE, pride of place is given to Qin.
That’s my biggest issue with Qin, really. We are given a perfect setup for Qin as a villain and indeed do reject their whole worldview and ideals and everything as being completely wrong, to the point that Holmes even rejects the idea that they are a human. In the final parts of the chapter, Holmes declares that the defense Qin dedicated themselves to is the domain of a god, and that despite their insistence that they did so as the only human and that they rejected becoming a god, ultimately they were deluding themselves, having simply taken on the role of a god while declaring themselves a human. This is the harshest condemnation that Qin ever gets and the final culmination of theme of humanity and what it really is that’s there throughout the Lostbelt, a complete and total rejection of the idea that one can do what Qin did and still claim to be human.
But instead of engaging with this, the story softens up on Qin by the end because it wants you to roll for them. It’s exactly what happened with Skadi, a solid character and path built up from the beginning and then swerving towards the end to make them more likeable. That Qin is the one on our Lostbelt CE and that it’s all about how Qin did their best to “shoulder the responsibility” for mankind instead of highlighting their tyranny is just kinda emblematic of how the story treats it once Jing Ke is gone, because when she’s not in the party people stop pointing out the obvious tyranny going on, and when she’s dead everyone starts acting like Qin is almost reasonable and that their path was a valid one that wasn’t so wrong, even though theirs was more right. It even completely ignores Koyanskaya pointing out that Qin loves humanity like an owner loves its pets, not as actual individuals, but this love is treated as completely valid thereafter instead of being a huge problem.
Big Big Spoilers For Qin’s Interlude Now, Skip Ahead To The Next Bolded Section If You Don’t Want To See Them
One of the reasons I’m so harsh on them for what could, in context, be seen as relatively minor softening up on Qin compared to the actual defeat we deal them is because of this Interlude. As a brief overview, Qin completely ignores the ending of their Lostbelt, which lasts for three months despite every other Lostbelt lasting a day at most before it vanishes and the implication of the final chapter being that it’s ending soon, returns to Epang Palace despite it having been destroyed and corrupted with a virus and despite having promised to live as a human on the ground with the rest of the world until the end, and then uses the data on the Shadow Border that somehow survived the virus and destruction of the palace to somehow construct a machine that allows them to create Singularities. 
They then use this to create a bunch of Singularities related to “what-ifs” where they were a cruel king who ruled over Xiangyang and murdered all their subjects so they can piggyback on the Human Order instead of being destroyed with their Lostbelt and everyone in it, and then keeps the Singularities around as time bombs to destroy Panhistory like Goetia did if they ever feel like Guda might lose. When this is figured out, no one in the know bothers to tell Guda to protect their feelings, and no one intervenes in any way or challenges Qin in any regard besides telling them to believe in Guda.
This interlude turned Qin into the most loathsome character in the game for me. They declared they would put it all on the line challenging Guda and then lost and stepped aside, even helping to destroy the Tree of Fantasy, and even having Da Vinci praise their grace in stepping aside when it was clear that they had lost. But that didn’t happen. 
Instead, Qin lied. Qin pulled the trigger on everyone in their entire world and then decided that they didn’t actually want to uphold their end of the bargain, so they abandoned the people they swore to live alongside until the end and constructed a scenario where they have the sole authority to destroy all of human history forever if they feel like it, something made possible only because author fiat dictated that they still had the data and the capacity to use it after the twofold destruction of the Epang Palace and only because author fiat dictated that their Lostbelt lasted for months after the Tree was destroyed when every other Lostbelt disappears after hours. And all this happens because fundamentally, they don’t want Qin to be wrong, and they don’t think Qin was wrong. They pay lip service to the idea, but the end result is that Qin is always meant to have a point, and that despite having people point out their obvious hypocrisy at ther start like Jing Ke, by the end of the Lostbelt and beyond you are meant to take them at face value as a Hard Enby Making Hard Decisions doing their best to save the entire world. 
SPOILERS FOR THE INTERLUDE OVER, YOU’RE SAFE NOW
To begin the summary for Qin as a character, I’d like to point out Fate’s relationship with Great Man theory. This theory is, in brief, a suggestion that the course of history is largely influenced by exceptional individuals and leaders that exert their will on the world as a result of their own superb capabilities, such as being more intelligent, charismatic, powerful etc. than all other men around them. This is obviously a theory with a bunch of holes, but what’s interesting is that Fate has always engaged with this idea and has always refuted it conclusively.
In Fate, if you are a single human trying to save the world, you will fail. Kiritsugu’s chasing of the Grail and his ultimate failure because of his own flaws making it physically impossible for him to consider a path to salvation that didn’t involve killing is a rejection of Great Man theory. Shirou understanding that one single person cannot possibly save everyone in the world is a rejection of Great Man theory. Amakusa’s inability to save the world in any way besides erasing free will is a rejection of Great Man theory. Goetia’s decision to erase history and start again to make something better and his ultimate defeat is a massive rejection of Great Man theory. Zelretch, for all his insane power, is literally paralyzed by that selfsame power into not being able to do anything, while someone like Aoko who doesn’t think of anything but what’s right in front of her is actually able to accomplish things because she doesn’t try transcending the limits of what a human is capable of. It is one of the Nasuverse’s most consistent themes, that it is fundamentally wrong and doomed to fail if you ever attempt to impress your will on the entire world in a misguided attempt to save it. 
And yet Qin simply doesn’t engage with that. Qin is Great Man theory distilled into a character, and by the end of the Lostbelt and beyond the game gives up on challenging that. They declare themselves as the ultimate human with the sole responsibility to administrate mankind and despite losing, the game respects them and their path and refuses to condemn them the same way that it condemned Ivan for doing all he could to save his people, even if it meant inflicting his own ideas on the entire human race. And that’s a consistent problem with the last two Lostbelts, but it sticks out more for Qin because Qin didn’t face an apocalypse. Qin brought the world to an end with their own two hands, but the game simply cannot keep up the condemnation as much as it should, because it wants you to like them and wants you to roll them and spend money to do so. And that’s where Qin falters for me. They’re a fantastic villain, but the game doesn’t let them be a villain, regardless of how much it clashes not just with FGO’s themes, but with one of the overarching ideas behind a lot of stuff in the Nasuverse as a whole. 
I’ve basically talked about the thematics and the characters together in the last section, so this is just me talking about its construction as a story here as a short(er) final roundup.
It’s badly written, really. Like I mentioned earlier, basically nothing happens for about half the chapter and then the latter half puts the pedal to the metal and speedruns its way through everything. Nothing is given the time or dedication it needs besides Spartacus’s sacrifice in the chapter, I feel, and that works to its extreme detriment. 
In terms of things that happen, it strained my sense of disbelief as bad or worse than Lostbelt 2 did. I knew it was going to be rough when Mordred, one of the Knights of the Round Table who was easily able to go toe-to-toe with Siegfried and stomp most people she fought in previous appearances, ends up firing her Noble Phantasm at Xiang Yu and doing no damage whatsoever despite being a direct hit, and then Xiang Yu ends up defeating a group of four Servants including powerhouses like Mordred and Spartacus without breaking a sweat and explicitly while holding back.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, that I’m starting to sound like some BLer who cares for nothing besides calculations and VS debates and whatnot, but that’s not what I’m about. I don’t care to argue whether my favorite Servant could beat Goku or not, partially because the answer is an obvious yes because they’re my favorite, but mostly because that’s just not really relevant for a story. 
What is relevant, however, is the idea of suspension of disbelief. In telling a story, you don’t need to be realistic, but you need to be consistent. Having internal consistency is a vital part of selling your work to the audience, because if they start thinking that anything can happen at any time because the author wants it to happen, they can get pulled out of the story real quick. If you introduce someone as being Double God and being able to wipe the floor with every single one of the protagonists without breaking a sweat, you have to make sure that when or if they are defeated, their defeat is internally consistent. Either they lose their strength somehow, or the protagonists find some way to power up or change their tactics or do something different to defeat them next time they fight. When you pull a victory or defeat out of your ass without some kind of internal consistency, you had better make sure that you’ve got your themes on point, because if you’ve failed in making something internally consistent and you can’t justify the event happening because it fits perfectly with the themes of the work, then it takes people out real quick.
That’s where this Lostbelt falls down really hard in terms of story construction outside of its characters, because it has neither. Xiang Yu is introduced as an unstoppable murdermachine that we can only hold off temporarily or wait for him to retreat, even when that means devaluing our own Servants’ capabilities and making Mordred who is a Knight of the Round table look like a chump. But then later, Spartacus vaporizes a meteor with nothing but his Noble Phantasm, except Xiang Yu was just straight up too much for him, even though Xiang Yu is pretty much the greatest symbol of Qin’s oppression and its source, the incredible violence that they are willing and able to visit upon anyone at any time if they feel like it. Spartacus loses horribly to one symbol and then annihilates the other and it feels weird.
Later, we’re also introduced to Meiren being a True Ancestor with infinite mana who curses us so badly that we only survive with Koyanskaya’s aid. Even Koyanskaya is urging us to run and there’s explicitly nothing we can do to her. That’s fine! It’s a good setup for a really tough boss! But what it means is that now we have two people set up as completely unbeatable even with all the help we have, including Red Hare and Chen Gong. That’s an awkward setup that really needs a solid resolution, especially when the final battle with them is fighting both, together, while both are completely fresh and Chaldea has just fought their way through Xiangyang, defeating Liangyu, Han Xin and the royal guards, and Li Shuwen. 
And the game doesn’t engage with it. We beat them both despite them both individually being able to wipe us out earlier in the chapter, and despite nothing having changed for us. If anything, they should have the advantage of conviction, or at least Xiang Yu should. But we beat them and Nezha gives some nonsense about how Xiang Yu lost because he never had any rivals to fight against, despite him having been used to conquer the world, and despite him having fought alongside the great heroes enshrined in Mt. Li during these conquests. Meiren isn’t even acknowledged, which isn’t much of a surprise, but it is disappointing. Despite her being held up as an insurmountable threat at first, she’s not even considered worth mentioning in favor of talking about Xiang Yu.
That problem continues along with Qin, who comes at us with a Grand class Saint Graph and whom we end up defeating all by ourselves, not as a battle of wills but flat out defeating them, even though we only have Mashu, Red Hare, Nezha, and Mordred who have all been exhausted fighting through all of Xiangyang. People are hyped up as insanely dangerous and then lose not because of the thematics and not because the story has constructed things so that their loss makes sense, but just because the author says it happens. All the battles are handled with in-game battles, which the game grew out of a long, long time ago. The difference between the climactic battles with Ivan and Surtr and the climactic battle with Qin in terms of actual writing is night and day, and the sole saving grace, that it is explicitly characterized as a conflict between the two philosophies and a battle of which one comes out on top, just isn’t enough to overcome the insane hype of being on par with a Grand that Qin gets for absolutely no reason. It devalues Grands and it made the victory against them feel unearned even with the idea that it’s a conflict of philosophies, which I usually eat up. To compare it to the great example of that in Fate, it feels like Shirou VS Archer, except instead of the point being that Archer cannot bring himself to fully deny Shirou’s ideals and is defeated by Shirou reminding him of their beauty even though he wields the power to crush Shirou instantly if he wanted, it’s like Shirou proved his point about ideals by beating Archer up fair and square. It just isn’t nearly as well written.
It isn’t all bad. Like I mentioned, Spartacus, Jing Ke, Gordolf, they were all genuine delights that I loved. The meteor, the assassination, those were both excellent scenes. But overall, the Lostbelt was half nothing happening and then the latter half made up of one or two cool moments with a hell of a lot of bad shit connecting them. Its theme of stagnation is indecisive and muddled because of Qin and Meiren, its theme of humanity has its conclusion ignored and conflicts with the overall idea of Great Men in the Nasuverse, its treatment of its female characters barring Jing is uncomfortable at best, and it tries to sell us a romance without putting in any of the actual legwork to make it believable. 
I wish Lostbelt 3 had been better. I can see easy routes to make it better. But more than anything I wish that Meiren had been done better. She’s an immortal True Ancestor who has lived for thousands of years and seen the birth of modern humanity, living through so much of our history, and instead of having a story of learning how to break free of her stagnation she’s just obsessed with a male character who isn’t remotely as focused on her to the extent that every choice and decision she makes in the chapter is focused entirely around him. It’s just...uncomfortable.
For all the hooks she had as a character, Meiren is reduced to an accessory for her man, and I think that’s a crying shame.
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tsc-living · 3 years
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I'm not trying to come off as mean because I think your opinions are super valid and I actually really appreciate a different view on Cordelia, but why is it that when a male character in TSC is lovesick for a girl/guy it's romantic and adorable and said guy is seen as near perfect, but when a girl is it's seen as just being lovesick and weak/pathetic? I just don't really understand 😓
Lol no, I don't like it either, not when it's written the way Cordelia was written. I think I speak out more now, on Cordelia, because I have more confidence. I don't care if I lose followers, and I don't care if people come into my DMs and attack me for my thoughts. When I created this blog, I cared more about those things so I kept my mouth shut.
I'll also address the fact that obsession (even predatory behavior) from a man aimed at a woman has a long standing history of being romanticised and the predominantly female based readership of TSC may still be subscribed to that way of thinking. Paired with women's internalized misogyny (think: women's behaviour to Taylor Swift, Kristen Stewart and Jameela Jamil), Cordelia will automatically be less favourable to some. This is something I've considered in my own analysis of Cordelia and I still feel confident that my dislike of her character isn't based in that inherent idea. We must also address the often times creepy, near enough fetishization of mlm characters by females with the uwu cute baby gay boy attitude (think: Nico Di Angelo from the Riordanverse). If Alec, Magnus, Kit, Ty, Kieran, Mark, etc were obsessive over their respective Male counterparts to Cordelia's extent with James, it would just fuel that creepy attitude. We do kind of see it with Kit and Ty anyway. The only excuse I can respect for that is mlm or queer people in general appreciate the reality of the gay experience when you're young and still learning, and CC cut it off at the knees and we are desperately trying to keep it alive. I digress.
So please, without further adieu, have my opinions on Shadowhunter men in TSC.
James: Get your head in the game dude. Liked him in TFtSHA but he's gone downhill from there. 2/10
Matthew: Gives me anxiety, not sure if I like him being the cornerstone for bisexual representation, but we'll see. Has started yet another fucking love triangle. Again, I like him in TFtSHA but has gone downhill. 2/10
Alastair: I like him but that's just because I relate to him. Can't wait to find out more about myself him as the story goes on. 7/10 (docked points bc he's kind of a douche canoe).
Jace: Obsessive. As an adult (the age I am now when I read Chog), his love for Clary makes me supremely uncomfortable for 90% of the series. 3/10
Simon: Again, his teen angsty crush on Clary I can do without, but when he starts crushing on Izzy, it's not as obsessive and lovesick as it is with Jordelia. He has the vampire thing to think about, and the getting stuck in hell part of it, and there's more depth to his character (although not enough, let's be honest). 8/10
Alec: Manages to focus on things other than Magnus for thirty seconds. We even have the entirety of CoHF where Alec is suffering with his fear for Magnus' life, but we don't know that deep until we have the conversation between Jace and Alec. Good man, loved the fact he got some character development, cares more than just about his boyfriend. 10/10.
Will: Bro. His character all around is... a lot. He gets praised as this broody, beautiful, perfect type, but during my reread every time he waxed poetic about Tessa I rolled my eyes. He is just as bad as Cordelia, but I do think CC rounded out his character a little better eventually (I hope she does the same with Cordelia). I like Will in the glimpses we get of him as an adult and a father more than I like the Will in TID. 5/10 for TID, but overall 6/10
Jem: This man deserved so much more in depth character work, but at the very least he wasn't boiled down to 'I love Tessa and that's all I'm capable of'. He is driven by love, but he loves more than just Tessa. 9/10
Gideon & Gabriel: We don't get a lot of their side of the story and Gabriel is like 19 and dating a 15 year old so we're moving right along. 4/10 for Gideon (wish it could be more but we dont know hime) and 2/10 for Gabriel (because he did make me laugh).
Julian: I just... no. I don't like Blackstairs story very much. Julian kinda freaks me out and his obsession with Emma is A Lot™️. 4/10 (because he loves his family and has been through too much).
Mark: Hey look, a character that has a relationship and isn't entirely consumed by it. There's some poly confusion (like gay panic, but for polyam). I support him, and I wish him well. 7/10
Ty: Not sure he knows what's up. Good egg. Have yet to see his (in depth) POV of Kit so this could change, but so far he's pretty chill. 10/10
Kit: Get a grip, then get a clue. Is perhaps a little obsessive as the books wear on, but his character is balanced more in favour of trying to do what he needs to do and trying his best and that's less motivated by his (unacknowledged) crush. If he dissolves into a lovesick and obsessive character with little to no other personality traits, then his score will go down. 9/10.
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thisissirius · 4 years
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Darling! 92 “I want you to be happy.” from the I Love You Prompts? Only if you’re so inspired.
this is not the first fic but i hope it works anyway dlkshfkdj
in the shadow of eddie/buck, 889 words, mental health.
Eddie smiles. 
It doesn’t happen often; usually when he’s with the team, his family, and Buck. With Chris. Eddie’s smile never fails to make Buck’s heart beat, but he can’t help but notice something about it. Almost as if Eddie’s happiness doesn’t reach his eyes. 
It’s there when Buck kisses him goodbye that morning. It’s there when Eddie FaceTimes with Chris before dinner. It’s there when Eddie sends a selfie later that night, Chris asleep on his chest. 
It’s there when Buck gets home later that night, and Eddie looks up, smiling at him. He’s slouched low on the couch, wearing the oversized hoodie Buck bought him for Christmas, and sweats. There’s love and affection on his face, but his smile is a touch sad.
Buck closes the door quietly behind him, and walks into the living room. “Hey.” 
“Hi,” Eddie replies. He reaches for Buck, which is a surprise. Eddie doesn’t often allow himself to initiate PDA, and it breaks Buck’s heart that he doesn’t know Buck’s a sure thing. 
Kicking off his shoes—Eddie can yell about it later—-Buck sits down next to him on the suffer. Eddie immediately presses up against him, another sign that Eddie’s having a bad day. Eddie shuffles under Buck’s arm, and Buck gets the message, wraps it around Eddie’s shoulders and holds him close. 
There’s a cooking show on the TV and Buck tries to get into it, knows that Eddie needs time to get his thoughts in order—that he’ll talk if Buck lets him work it through in his head. He strokes a hand through Eddie’s hair, ghosting kisses over the top of his head. Eddie relaxes minute by minute, breath evening out and fingers twitching against Eddie’s stomach. 
“I had a bad day,” Eddie says quietly. 
“I know,” Buck replies, just as softly. 
Eddie blows out a breath, seems to consider his next words carefully. “I woke up this morning and thought I love you when I stared. Then,” Eddie cuts himself off, buries his face in Buck’s neck. “I wondered if I deserved you, deserved anything.”
Closing his eyes, Buck feels his chest constrict with emotion. “Sometimes you smile and I love it, love that you’re happy, but it’s also as if you’re not. There’s a look in your eyes that makes me wonder if you’re not as happy as you make out.”
Eddie pulls back, looking at Buck carefully. “What do you want?”
Buck stays quiet for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order. He knows that Eddie needs help; it’s something they’ve fought about more than once. Not that Buck wants to pressure Eddie into anything, especially not therapy if it’s not what Eddie wants. Often, Eddie gets angry about not wanting to speak to someone face to face, that it’s hard to be truthful in person, when he thinks he’s letting someone down.
There’s a hitch in Eddie’s breath. “What do you want?”
Resting a hand on Eddie’s face, Buck strokes a thumb over his cheek. Eddie’s eyes are red, but they’re dry. There’s exhaustion in the lines of his face, in the way he leans into Buck. It breaks Buck a little that he can’t do anything to help. “I want you to be happy,” he says eventually.  “I would tell you a hundred times a day that I’m not leaving if I thought it would help.”
Eddie swallows, closes his eyes and drops forward. Buck curls a hand around the back of his neck, lets Eddie bury his face into Buck’s neck. “I feel happy. With the guys, with you, Chris. I just—my brain keeps telling me that I don’t deserve happiness, that everyone’s just going to leave.”
Eddie’s abandonment fears are understandable and valid, and Buck wishes he could find a way to convince Eddie he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of where Buck’s concerned. Mostly because Buck’s already done it once; it’s the one thing he wishes he could take back above all others.
“Do you think Frank will know,” Eddie starts, his voice muffled by Buck’s neck. He hesitates, then continues, “ways that I can work through this without talking face to face?”
“I’m sure he does,” Buck says quietly, kissing the top of Eddie’s head again. “We’ll ask him together, okay?”
Eddie doesn’t say anything else, but Buck feels him relax. They focus back on the TV, and it’s comfortable. Eddie’s a safe weight against him, and Buck feels the day start to tug at him, lulling him into sleep. He knows they should move; it won’t help either of them to fall asleep on the couch.
“We should move,” Eddie says eventually, pulling back. He stares down at Buck, smiles gently and while it’s not changed—there’s still a distance there—it’s full of the same love and affection as before, and Buck never doubts that Eddie loves him. 
Buck nods, starts to sit up, but Eddie presses a hand to his shoulder. He leans in, kisses Buck softly, stroking a hand over Buck’s chest. 
“I am happy.” Eddie’s smile is softer. “My brain might not believe it all the time, but my heart knows it’s true. I love you, I love Chris, and I’m happy. One day I’ll be able to show it.”
“You already do,” Buck assures him. “Just because I can’t see it in your smile.”
Eddie kisses him again, tugs him to his feet. “One day you will.”   
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Text
If our mother is our first love,
And my mother towered over me from above,
With contempt in her eyes
As I cried
And resentment in her words
As I turned to her
What could this have done
To my little heart?
I knew heartbreak before I ever knew love
Heartbreak was normal
I was in survival mode.
If a child’s development
Is dependent
On their mother’s attunement
But my mother was indifferent
How could I have thrived?
I’m surprised
I’ve come as far as I have
And for anyone who has
Judgments of me
And my retelling of suffering
Your invalidation is telling
Of your lack of empathy
You can enable abusers
Somewhere else
Just not here
Not in my life
Not anymore.
I’m honoring the little girl inside me whose heart is tender
Who just wanted a mother
To kiss and to hug her
And tell her she’s valid
Accept her as she is
I’m not editing
Any part of her
For anyone
Anymore.
I’m not shaming a little girl
For having basic needs
I’m not turning her away
Or letting her be
All by herself
Overwhelmed and sad
I could not do that to her
Needs don’t make her bad.
No, I won’t expect her
To be a little adult
To be serious and cynical
Depressed and dull
No, I won’t tell her
That she is difficult
For having feelings
Outside of her control.
I’ll say,
Feel what you feel
No matter how big or how small
Like Mr. Rogers said:
“What’s mentionable is manageable.”
Human connections depend
On safely being vulnerable.
You are safe with me.
I won’t tell your secrets to others like she did,
I won’t belittle you and humiliate you.
I won’t use these things against you,
I’m not battling for power like she was.
I don’t want to control you,
I want to build you up.
We’ll get through this together
In time you will see
There’s nothing to be ashamed of
Together, you and me.
My mother used my tenderness to hurt me
To blame and desert me
To hurl accusations at me
If I dared try asserting
Any boundaries.
I’m remothering that little girl now
And I can see how
Things happened
And I was trapped then,
And I’m not going to let that
Happen again.
I’m here to catch her tears
Comfort her in her fears
Hug her tight when she’s scared
Let her know I’ll always be there.
What was used against me by my mother
So wicked
My tenderness, to myself
Is now a gift.
Yes, my tenderness is my strength
And all the ways she tried to kill it
Has only made me refine it
Into a secret weapon.
I’ll go deep
Into the recesses of my mind
The dark corners of my heart
And I’ll pour tenderness on
All the hardened pieces
Thawing out what’s been frozen
Until I no longer feel like a reject,
But instead like I’ve been chosen.
The compassion I gave to others
My whole life
Neglecting myself
In order to survive
I can give to my inner child now
And watch her thrive
With a mother that loves her
And will love her for life.
My mother may have been my first love,
And quickly my first heartbreak,
But I am picking up the pieces now,
And will love myself in every place
She made me feel ashamed
Instead I’ll celebrate
All the ways
Shame has turned that little girl away
I’ll make a safe place
For her to come and stay.
I’ll love myself for life now
I don’t have to wait!
I don’t have to earn it
No hoping for the day
That a narcissist changes,
No, today is the day!
I’m here - for me - now!
And I’ll only grow in time,
Bonding with my inner child,
Proud that she is mine.
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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years
Text
It comes in like the tide // Gen x Arthur // soft comfort.
Summary: Everything is just so wrong. Your medications aren’t working. You’re not sleeping right. There’s so much going on all at once and you feel like you’re being swept under the murky oceans of your mind by the large waves which wash over you as does sadness come in like the tide. Everything is wrong and you feel like a shell of yourself, but Arthur’s right there, dear heart, and he won’t ever let you go...
A/N: Written for @daincrediblegg​ who deserves so much love and so much support and encouragement, especially right now. Arthur and I are so so proud of you and we love you so much!💖💖💖 I hope that you like this, angel! If you don’t, please let me know and I’ll write you something else! I love you!!!!!
Word count: 1, 874 ~ 
This GIF is still such a fucking mood... Me too, my love. 
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You slid your slightly bent key into the rusting lock of apartment 8J and you felt none of your usual giddiness. Even as the door cracked open and you took a step forward, ready to cross the threshold between your cruel and unrelenting reality and your dreams, which were all contained within one person who loved you so dearly, you could already hear the quick padding of socked feet on a threadbare and worn carpet which seemed so perfectly to personify the very way that you were feeling right now as Arthur rushed to greet you at the door. Always so eager was he to welcome you home, and the comparison between Arthur and the actual puppy which rushed to the door to greet you didn’t fail to cross your mind. It made you smile despite yourself even as you bent down to stroke the puppy which Arthur had gifted you with some months ago. Happy was it with your affections and it turned and ran back the way it had come, likely going to find its resting place now that its human had been attended to.
The emptiness which you felt, as well as your other swirling emotions, told you more clearly than anything ever had before that what you were experiencing was bigger than you were and, oh, how it hurt. You were left utterly breathless by the strength of your own emotions and you were crawling in your own skin, desperately looking for a way back inside yourself. Arthur would extend a hand towards you before you fully realised how much you needed him to bring you home, so well and so deeply did he love you, and somewhere deep within your soul did you know that you were safe now. Safe to simply be with the one man who could and would understand anything with his otherworldly intelligence.
“Yay, you’re home!” Arthur’s soft raspy voice was accompanied by arms which fluttered about your body, hands not touching but grazing you before finally did he find the courage to wrap his arms around you. You sunk into your love’s touch gladly, his grasp warm and but loose, too loose, and you snuggled into Arthur’s chest. You wanted more. Of everything. Of Arthur, of his touch... You just wanted more and pointedly did you push yourself into Arthur’s embrace. Arthur giggled as you seemed to want to climb inside his skin. It wasn’t a happy sound or even a noise of amusement. It was closed lipped. Confusion. You knew your Arthur and you were distantly aware of the fact that he was too afraid to ask you what you were doing, so afraid was he of rejection, so fearful was he that it was wrong to ask you any kind of clarifying question. Evidently did he have some bravery left within him, likely was it caused by the sight of your own suffering, so confident could Arthur be for his one and only person, for he then said, “Wh-what are you doing, Gen?”
“I’m... please just hold me, Arthur.” Your voice cracked when you asked for what you most wanted, stood were you on the doormat, and Arthur cooed softly. He understood, so knowing was he, and he pulled you into him with a firm grip which should have surprised you given how physically weak he seemed, but that was the operative word. Arthur was strong in every single way, a walking contradiction was he. You were much the same. For all that you had ever been through, for all that you had ever experienced, you were strong. Forged were you from the hottest fires, risen had you like a phoenix. Sometimes, during times like these, did you sink back into your ashes, but Arthur was always there with a gentle hand to dust you off. He had you, for now and for always, just as you had him.
“I’m here, angel,” Arthur murmured softly. His thin lips, cool to the touch, were pressed against your temple as with a tender kiss did he linger at your temple, as if the physical display of his undying love for you could seep into the pores of your skin and heal your troubles from the outside in. “What is it?” Quietly did Arthur question you, though he didn’t pry. He trusted you to tell him when you were ready, but never would you be. You were just so tired and you felt like a shell of the woman you knew yourself to be. You had to be careful with your answer. Arthur knew you like he was familiar with the backs of his bruised hands. If you lied or even slightly changed your wording as you spoke, then Arthur, intuitive and knowing as he was, would pick up on it. He would be offended if you told him anything but the truth, and so really did you see that there was no choice. 
It was time to tell Arthur.
“I’m in a bad time shell,” You shrugged with a weary smile on your face. Hidden were you from Arthur’s sight, but he knew you and he could see your expression as plain as day in his mind’s eye. “I’m not sleeping properly and these meds are just wrong for me. They’re making me miss my old antidepressants and I’m waiting to hear back from the doctor about maybe switching back. I don’t know, Artie. I’m not myself right now and I just miss you even though you’re right here.” Arthur had opened the floodgates and more of everything spilled past your lips. You unlocked your heart and dropped your guard as the ceramic mask which you wore every day slipped off your face and shattered at your feet into a thousand pieces. Arthur’s love was the glue which would put you back together, leaving nothing but gold in its wake. At some point, unknown to you, had you begun to cry, exhausted with your own tiredness and general ill state of being and Arthur cooed and cupped your face in his hands as the calloused pads of his thumbs wiped your tears away.
Arthur didn’t tell you that it would be okay. You knew that. Arthur didn’t tell you that the doctor would help you to find something which worked for you. You knew that. Arthur didn’t shush you or invalidate you. You didn’t need that. No. Arthur stayed beside you even as everything came out and he jumped head first into the murky waters of your psyche. He swum down, down, and his fingers wrapped around yours. He had you. Together, hand in hand, did you swim to the surface and you broke the waters, your body taking a deep and natural breath as Arthur tipped his head forward so that he could press his lips, now warmed by the heat of your body, to your forehead. “I’m right here, Gen, I promise. Not going anywhere.” The only thing Arthur did was to remind you that he was there with you, that he was there for you, and there was nowhere that he would  rather be. You had never left Arthur at his worst and Arthur would treat you in kind; so deeply and so richly were the two of you in love with each other.
Arthur pulled away from you completely except for one hand, the fingers of which were tightly interlocked with your own, and he led you over to the worn sofa. There was a spring digging somewhere into your back, but you were too focused on yourself, or your perceived lack of it, and on Arthur, to wholly notice the physical discomfort of this. Arthur’s entire body was turned towards you, his full attention did you have, and he let go of your hand so that once again could he cup your face in both of his. The palm which previously had been pressed against Arthur’s now felt cold, empty, and you smiled sadly. It felt the way that you did. Was everything a mirror this day? There was the sound of running pads, once more muted by the carpet, and then a familiar weight settled on your lap as your puppy decided that you were going to be its bed for the foreseeable future.
“Awh, that’s sweet,” Arthur cooed and he reached out a hand to run his fingers through the puppy’s golden fur.
In your life were there two sweet creatures who deserved the world and you felt your heart swell with love at the very sight. “Am I... am I valid, Artie?” The question broke past your lips even before you were aware that you had spoken, but Arthur was ready for anything. You were you and for that, always would he be ready to take on the world. You were his world and if Arthur had to defend you even from yourself, then that was what he would do. 
“You always are,” Arthur’s voice was soft, his tone kind and you once more felt tears come into your eyes at how tender he was with you. “We’ll figure it out, Gen. Won’t leave you for the world. You’re in there still - I can see you.” To emphasise his point did Arthur cup your face in his hands, his green eyes meeting your own gaze. “You’re not alone, darling.” Arthur’s vow, for indeed was that what it was, sunk into your ears and it caressed the surface of your brain gently, soothing you from the outside in. “I’m so proud of you, Gen. My brave Egg.”
A quiet gasp from you prompted a soothing shush from Arthur, and mindful of the puppy on your lap did you lean forward, forward, to rest your forehead against the sharp angles of Arthur’s collarbone. He wrapped his arms around you and you believed in that moment that it would be easier for him to let you go, though you also knew that he never would. Still did a storm rage on within you, but you had your Arthur and you had the knowledge of all which could be done to aid you in feeling better, and you knew that you would be okay, if for no other reason than the fact that Arthur would not allow anything else. You would get what you deserved, this he swore to himself, but if he had spoken that sentiment aloud would you have told him that you already had received that because you had him, just as he had you. You were both safe within yourselves due to the continued presence of the other, and no matter how ugly this storm was, no matter how long it went on for or how lost within yourself you became, Arthur would be right beside you through it all. You deserved the world and Arthur was going to give it to you every day for the rest of his life, for the rest of your shared lives together. You were a fighter, you always had been, and Arthur was in your corner. You were his one and only person who understood him, you were his best and most precious Egg, you were his Gen, and there was nothing you couldn’t make it through together. 
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