#take in count that I also don't have a solid sense of identity so my view of names and of the self is: skewed 👍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melonminnie · 1 year

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Author Nim ....Happy near year !!! Im here to request part 4 of I became Villains family x reader .. so u know the fact that when siren cry their tears become pearls??? So here it is the reader when she was abused before coming to valentine house hold used to collect all the pearls so that when she will run away she can use them to get money ..... but now she don't have any use of them as she have momma and papa and her sister..... so she made bracelets with those pearls as her gift to them for new year and for treating her sister and her so sweetly and now she is confused why everyone who received the bracelets is crying ( which is almost everyone in the mansion received it even the maids and guards and even the wizard) as they all are concerned about the amount of pearls .......which means that their bunny cried a lot......now they hav to kill everyone who made their bunny cry.....have nice day and celebrate new year to the fullest 💕💕💕❤

VALENTINE FAMILY! X FEMALE!CHILD!READER (platonic)

Warning!: mentions of murder

DESCRIPTION <3: making pearls for your now family for New Years

AUTHOR NOTE: Happy New Years to you too thank you for requesting! Also my idol legit FOLLOWED ME ?? I’m so happy haha, of course I can try making part 5 if you’d like

For as long as the girl could remember, She’d been collecting pearls from whenever she cried at count Cortez’s house, She found out that whenever she’d cry either it was full on sobbing or just crying from laughter. Her tears would turn from liquid to solid pearls.

At first she wouldn’t bother picking them up but gave it a thought after a while, But when a certain incident happened she decided she’d collect the pearls and run away when the girl got older.

To say that she collected a lot was an understatement, It was a lot and I mean A lot a lot a lot, She could go live in a deserted country and never be found again with the amount of pearls she had!.

She could sell her identity, buy a huge house with a garden, buy titles with the pearls she had.

But now?, She scrapped her plan fully as she slowly realized she no longer had to live with dread or fear, She didn’t have to live thinking she’d get sold off or get hit.

She could finally live free from everything she worried about.

The pink haired girl kept on wondering what she was supposed to do with the pearls, She’d kept them with her. Of course she could still do her plan or just keep them as memory’s. But she had other thoughts she wanted to show her gratitude to her now family!.

For everything they had done to her sense the beginning in her eyes they were angels, And with New Years slowly approaching. She thought about making necklaces and bracelets.

it wouldn’t be hard sense she had nothing to do, So she started , For her family she’d paint them the colors of their hair or eyes, For her sister she painted some of the pearls pink but kept some white, For Tristan it was the same as aria but black instead of pink, Tristan got yellow blue and normal pearls.

Lloyd got black and white, Sabina got black and red.

She’d make them bracelets and necklaces, Hell she even made some for all the servants, Cooks, Knights, And even the wizards!.

The day before New Years the girl went around handing the bracelets and necklaces, Most and maybe even all the maids were brought to tears hugging and thanking the little girl.

“Here!” Shouted the girl to the head maid standing on her toes handing the maid the pearl necklace, “oh my lady!, you didn’t need to” She replied covering her mouth with hand nearly crying.

“But I wanted too, take it” the girl pleaded gifting her the bracelet before the maid hugged her body crying and thanking her.

“Weird..” She thought, Everyone she’d given was giving her this reaction, Like it was planned but she hadn’t told anyone she was making them she’d even hid them and made them at night when everyone was asleep.

But the girl didn’t think of it anymore and continued her journey, Not knowing that everyone knew that those pearls were her tears, Her next designation was the wizards toward where Carlin was.

“Carlinnn” the girl shouted as she heard a groan from the familiar voice “what is it?” He questioned opening the door, “here!” She exclaimed handing him the bracelet, “for you happy New Years” She placed it in his hand.

he grabbed it and inspected it before realizing what the pearls were made of, His heart was hurt just a little.

“Do you like it?” She chirped happily, “Y-yeah, thank you” he smiled and hugged her, “YAYYY” she shouted running down to go gift the others.

Next destination, The knights quarter’s, She’d counted many times how many knights there were so that she wouldn’t hurt anyones feelings.

When arriving one of the knights noticed and yelled “Everyone y/n came” At the name all of them stopped and began surrounding the girl.

“What brings you here? Little miss”, “Do you want to play with us?”, They all kept on questioning her before she shushed them and began giving out the items, “here, here, here, andddd here” she said before running off happily.

“Wait miss!” Yelled one of the knights before grabbing her body and picking her up, “let me go” she demanded “you forgot to give the captain” he stated.

“O-oh” she replied slightly embarrassed, The captain was waiting for her to give him one “You know I’m really hurt” he said one hand over his heart acting out like he got betrayed.

“I’m really sorry” she apologized giving him a necklace, “We’ll all treasure it with outer entire body’s isn’t that right?!” He asked yelling at the others “Yes Sir” they shouted.

“Can you put me down?” The girl asked, “Ah sorry” he apologized, “it’s okay bye bye now” she ran behind not noticing how some of the knights were full on sobbing at the present.

Now she gave the butler, head maid, servants, Wizard, Knights, Now the only people that were left were her sister, Lloyd Vincent, Sabina and Tristan.

She was slightly nervous hoping they wouldn’t reject her, But nonetheless she proceeded, First it was her sister, but she had no idea where she was so she asked,“Excuse me do you know where my sister is?” She questioned one of the maids.

“Oh I’m pretty sure the miss is in The young masters room” oh now she didn’t expect that, “Okay, thank you” she exclaimed hesitant when walking to Lloyds room.

Now in front of the boys room, She knocked on the door, Her heart beating so fast she was sure she was going to die anytime between now and in a few seconds.

The door slowly opened revealing Aria, “thank you” she thought before giving Aria her and Lloyd’s gift, “For you!” She exclaimed, Aria smiled slightly before hugging her sister and whispering “why don’t you give Lloyd his by yourself” she questioned before pulling away from the hug.

The girl shakes her head rapidly saying no, But Aria kept on budging till she gave in,She pulled her sister in the room. Lloyd looked quite surprised but didn’t say anything.

She quickly ran giving him his gift with hesitation, Before running out, As she was running Aria starred at the necklace realizing what they were she quickly felt guilty and concerned, Not about Lloyd but the realization of how often her little sister would cry, Made her angry.

Now It was Vincent’s turn, Y/n hadn’t interacted with Vincent much but whenever she did he would read her stories, Which was more than enough for her to like him, She quickly got done with Vincent, the way he smiled looked as if he was hurt but she didn’t pay any mind to it.

Now was Tristan and Sabina’s turn!, First was Sabina, y/n could avoid the guards at her room easily so she ran to her room, And entered.

“Y/n” the older lady smiled, “ I have a gift for you” she smiled, running towards her, “Necklace” she handed her the item, Sabina was no idiot when it came to the girl in front her, She knew that the pearls were originally tears turned into pearls.

“Tell me where did you get the pearls?” She questioned bringing the child closer to her, “Ummm, Somewhere” she stated, “where is that somewhere?” She smiled. “Um” the girl got more nervous, “ I need to go give Tristan!” She yelled before jumping off the bed and running away, Sabina starred at the now closed door knowing full well well you went out to avoid her question.

Now running towards Tristan’s office, He was the only person left who didn’t get the bracelet, So after passing threw a long hallway, She finally arrived in front the door and knocked, “Come in” someone yelled.

Upon opening the door the only people there where Tristan and his assistant, “I have a gift for you!” She responded walking towards him handing the gift. “Where did you get it?” He asked “I made it!,do you like it?” She smiled, He observed the gift before picking her up, “Why wouldn’t I?, I like everything you make” he continued starring at the bracelet, Shifting his gaze between the girl and the bracelet.

Like Sabina he wasn’t stupid he knew that those pearls were made from liquid, That liquid being tears, “Who did you give these too?” He touched the bracelet feeling slightly guilty.

“Everyone!” She smiled, “Everyone?” He placed the bracelet on his desk, “Yea! Everyone”, The man was sure you knew how these pearls would become pearls.

“You shouldn’t cry so much” He muttered low but loud enough for her to hear, The shock on her face made him smile, “How did you know?” She asked refusing to look at him.

“That is none of your concern”, Count Cortez was dead, A long time ago, If he wasn’t he would’ve murdered him all over again, But he couldn’t the house you used to call home no longer existed.

“Like I said you shouldn’t cry so much” dont cry, that’s what it seemed like he was saying, “You no longer have a reason to live in fear”, “Live happily, as long as your my daughter”, Daughter?, “No one will dare to touch you”.

#-Azuwritess #becoming the villains family #manwah #manhwa #fanfic #yandere #yandere Manhwa x reader #manhwa x reader #historical manhwa #tristan x reader #the siren #Becoming the villains family x reader #yandere x reader #platonic

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iamwestiec · 3 years

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June 17: Chengxian 💜🖤💕

childhood friends to lovers/QPPs, ace Jiang Cheng, bi & aro Wei Wuxian, modern AU

(A/N: If you're wondering about a certain other someone, he will have a wonderful, full life of his own in Suzhou in this AU but is not in this story. 💙 There are some brief mentions of offscreen ace-antagonism, not by anyone we know.)

Read on ao3

Jiang Cheng had been Wei Ying's best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

Okay. Well, not quite his entire life, but certainly since Wei Ying’s parents moved to California when he was little little, which was about as far back as Wei Ying could remember anyway. Wei Ying’s baba and Jiang Cheng’s baba had grown up in Wuhan together and been best friends when they were kids, so naturally, when Wei Ying’s family moved into the same neighborhood as the Jiangs, it made perfect sense for Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng to become best friends too.

It was Jiang Cheng who had taught Wei Ying that he didn't have to be afraid of dogs, by introducing him to Princess, Jasmine, and Lil' Love. Lil' Love lived up to her name, coming and quietly sitting in all her fluffy glory on Wei Ying’s lap every time he went over to play.

It was also Jiang Cheng who Wei Ying got drunk with for the first time. They snuck booze from the cabinet where Wei Ying’s parents kept it and laughed at the faces each other made with every shot until they stopped tasting the harsh burn, and then laughing more just because.

(Wei Ying’s mom had not laughed, not at the time, when the two teens had been sick as anything the next morning, but instead made them a gloriously greasy late breakfast and gave them lots of advice about proper hydration.

Then she told Jiang Cheng’s mom and let her scold them.)

It was Jiang Cheng who came out first, their first semester in college, when he told Wei Ying he didn't think he wanted to have sex with anyone, ever, and asked if Wei Ying thought that meant no one would ever want to date him. Wei Ying hugged him tight and told him he didn't know about everyone out there, but he knew Jiang Cheng was the best guy in the world and would be an awesome boyfriend, and he'd fight anyone who said differently.

Jiang Cheng found a group on campus for third culture LBGT kids, and Wei Ying went with him, as a supportive ally.

Which was how Wei Ying figured out that he was not just a supportive ally.

In listening to the others talk about orientation and identity and attraction and cultural expectations, Wei Ying realized that what he'd always assumed was normal—finding all kinds of people physically attractive, regardless of their gender—was actually his bisexuality. So that was kind of cool.

"So yeah, now we can be queer together!" Wei Ying said, when he excitedly shared his newfound realization with Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Yeah, 'all' and 'nothing,'" he joked.

It was Jiang Cheng who'd helped him practice what to say to his parents when he wanted to change his major at the end of sophomore year, and Jiang Cheng who reminded him to eat and sleep and "take a fucking break, Wei Ying," those next couple semesters when he took way too many hours so he wouldn't have to rack up a whole extra year's worth of student loans to finish his new degree plan.

It was Jiang Cheng who graduated first, on a gorgeous blue-skyed sunny day in May, and Jiang Cheng who suggested Wei Ying keep living with him at his new apartment, so he wouldn't have to try to find a one-semester lease until he finished in December.

(They renewed the lease together every time.)

Jiang Cheng ribbed him playfully each time Wei Ying met someone new, but he was always there each times things fizzled out after a few months for reasons that never quite made sense to Wei Ying.

Jiang Cheng occasionally dated too, and Wei Ying was glad he never did have to fight anybody—though he did drive Jiang Cheng to the emergency room the time he came home with split knuckles from punching a guy who, "seemed to think I didn't know my own mind about certain things."

But dating sucked for everybody, right? It wasn't like Wei Ying or Jiang Cheng were in any hurry to settle down and do the whole spouse and kids thing or whatever. Wei Ying tried to imagine it and just... couldn't, though the image of Jiang Cheng with a baby was admittedly pretty cute.

It was not Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Yanli, a few months after she proposed to her girlfriend and they started planning their wedding, who Wei Ying finally asked, "Yanli-jie, how does a person decide someone else is their person?"

Jiang Yanli looked across the room to where Jiang Cheng was showing her soon-to-be-wife how to put side spin on a billiards ball and smiled. "I think you just know," she said. "You meet someone and you get to know them, spend time together, then one day you realize you love them and want to build the rest of your life with them."

Wei Ying wrinkled his nose. "I dunno if it works that way for me. Just some random person? I've never met anyone I can imagine wanting to live with all the time. Well, besides—huh..." he cut off suddenly and darted a look over at Jiang Yanli, who just calmly sipped her drink.

"Have you ever told him that?" she asked, after a moment where Wei Ying reassessed his entire life and dating history. "I think he might appreciate hearing it."

"I... huh. Yanli-jie, you're kinda blowing my mind here," he complained.

"I gathered," she said wryly, before fixing him with a smile that made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Of course, I trust," she told him, "that I do not need to explain to you of all people how very dearly I hold my didi's happiness and well-being."

He swallowed and raised three fingers in the salute he'd used ever since the summer that—hah—he and Jiang Cheng had decided as kids that they would make their own oath of brotherhood like the heroes of their favorite show. "I, Wei Ying, swear to you that I would kick my own ass before I did anything to hurt him."

Jiang Yanli leaned over to knock her shoulder against his and nodded. "That's what I thought."

Turned out, dating Jiang Cheng didn't suck at all.

It felt easy in a way Wei Ying’s past dates never had, less like trying to keep up with a game whose rules everybody knew except him, more like... well, like spending time with his best friend in the whole world, but on purpose. There was also a tension in the back of Wei Ying’s mind that seemed to have lifted, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had gone.

It was Jiang Cheng who helped him figure it out.

"I think it's that now I'm able to count on this. On us," he said, when Wei Ying brought it up. "Before, whenever you went out with someone new, I wondered if this would be the time you'd find someone to fall in love with and leave me behind."

"Aww, Chengcheng! I would never!"

Jiang Cheng huffed and rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were pink. "Well, I know that now," he said, a pleased little smile breaking through his attempts at a scowl.

"As long as you're sure—" Wei Ying began, still getting used to thinking about himself with the word "aromantic." Still a so very sure that Jiang Cheng deserved to be fallen in love with.

"Hey!" Jiang Cheng cut him off. "None of that. I know you. And I know you don't see it this way, but I personally think it's pretty damn romantic that you choose to love me, on purpose."

"I simply have exquisite taste in life partners," Wei Ying sniffed, embarassed the way he always got when Jiang Cheng declared something he'd done "romantic."

"You do," Jiang Cheng agreed. "Someone told me a long time ago I was the best guy in the world and would make an awesome boyfriend, and that he would fight anyone who said differently."

Wei Ying laughed. "That's you and your sister I've promised to kick my own ass if I ever break your heart, then. Guess I'll just have to keep you forever."

"Damn right, you will," Jiang Cheng agreed, grinning smug and happy and breathtakingly beautiful. Wei Ying leaned across the couch to give him a sweet, closed-mouth kiss—the kind Jiang Cheng had shyly admitted he actually did like, a lot—and smiled too, at how lucky he'd gotten to be with his best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

🖤💜

Today's (extremely long!) thread was inspired by this WONDERFUL art of ace Jiang Cheng and bi & aro Wei Ying! Go give Midori some love on Twitter!

I spent a nonzero amount of time googling to double check when various terms and flags came into vogue, so if you're wondering, WWX & JC were in college in the early 2000s, before the ace and aro flags were designed. By the time they get themselves figured out, they can get their cute wristbands.

...which, yes, means these dingdongs spent about a solid decade living together before realizing that was what they wanted to do forever. 😉

This also means Jiang Yanli and her unnamed wife here are getting married between when California started recognizing same-sex marriages in 2008 and the Obergefell v. Hodges ruling in 2015! THIS SHIT'S RECENT!!!

Happy Pride, thank you for reading, check out more LGBTQIA+ sweetness on my #PrideMonthSnippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #chengxian #westie writes #mdzs #the untamed #asexual pride #aromantic pride #asexual jiang cheng #bisexual wei wuxian #aromantic wei wuxian #queerplatonic relationship #queer relationships #love has a lot of shapes

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pet-genius · 2 years

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Identity - Snolidays 5

So this is something a little different, not really fic or even meta, more of a free-form essay on the prompt, inspired by the story behind the prompt (that I chose for Hannukah) and by Sev (like everything I do).

The story in a nutshell, or at least the version taught to me in school in Israel, is that the Hebrews rebelled against the Greeks who had conquered Israel and sought to abolish local practices and rituals, and destroy the Hebrews’…you guessed it, their identity. With a little help from the one true god, the Greeks were miraculously defeated, and now we celebrate Hannukah.

Their identity is something they were willing to die for. I find this sentiment dogmatic and fanatic, and not a story to teach to children, possibly because my identity has never been under attack, or maybe because we’re living in a much more globalist age. But let’s take the story at face value: identity had meant that much to them, and thanks to their courage, their culture still exists. It’s clearly very important.

They saw how their identity was defined by what they did, and how they were perceived. As a double agent, Snape did not have this liberty as an adult; as a half-blood, it stands to reason that his sense of identity never fully solidified, and he was extremely vulnerable to anything that might have helped him there.

And yet. Snape knew who he was behind the mask. "Look at me,” he said with his dying breath. his identity had become well-formed and solid with time, not a small feat considering that he had spent his entire life trying to escape who he was or hide who he was.

We can conceptualize “identity” as something one feels, something internal, and we can also think of it as a collection of components like ethnicity, class, religion, gender, disability, etc. We can think of it as both and we can ponder on why some components “count” toward one's identity and some don't, which is incredibly politically loaded.

Then we have the struggle to be free from one’s identity, to be seen as more than one's race or gender, disability, etc.

We chase an identity, we die for it, and we fight to shed it when we have it when we feel it’s not who we are, or that it can swallow the rest of us up. We need it, so that we may transcend it.

Back to Snape. Snape exists in a universe where identity comprises of many things that do not apply to us, like blood status and Hogwarts house. In his universe, though, those skilled enough, who are in their element, have access to magic that reveals who we are behind all the surface-level elements of their identity. You know, the ones not assigned at birth or thrust upon one at 11. His Patronus tells us what he is about. And it “betrays” not only Severus's true heart, but also that one's identity can change and evolve.

“Identity” does not mean we must remain identical (ugh) to what we were. It can grow stronger as it evolvesof this so that it doesn’t depend on appearances. But it was Snape’s tragedy, and Harry's, and ours, that he had to live his life behind a mask. Humanity can and should transcend all ofthis, but perhaps it can only be allowed to do so when we’re free to explore and express our identities. Severus, in a world where his identity dictated so much of life, never had the freedom to be himself, and the pain here is palpable and visceral.

I'm not sure what's the lesson here or what the Hebrews should have done. I’m tempted to mention that according to Buddhism, being attached to anything is the root of suffering and that the self is an illusion. There's one thing I am sure of, though: the Greeks should have left the Hebrews well enough alone, and I wish Snape could have shown his true self to more than one person. He deserved it, and so do we.

I know also that "Snape fan" has somehow become a huge component of my identity that has shaped my life and made it better, about three years ago (I was a mere Potterhead until then). Even if it doesn't go on my identity card. It didn't feel like a choice, I didn't know that little by little I was carving my identity with every interminable Reddit debate, every fic I wrote or read, and every friend I made thanks to the Snapedom.

It didn't feel like a choice, but it was, and it made me who I am.

Happy Snolidays, fellow Snape fans, and may we all revel in our true selves!

#snolidays2021 #severus snape #pro severus snape #snapedom

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doodlelolly0910 · 6 years

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Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn't expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: We're already on chapter four! Things with the case are really starting to heat up here, and some big background on Killian comes to light. Also, the confirmation on the identity of the woman Emma has been hearing all this time! I'm sure you guys have already guessed who she is, but her identity is confirmed here. Thanks so so much as always for reading and a HUGE thank you to the fantastic @kmomof4 being such an amazing part of this process as my beta and thanks to @courtorderedcake the brilliant artwork she's created for this piece. Enjoy chapter 4!

Chapter 4

Emma hated days like this. She knew from the multiple messages she'd gotten from Graham and Captain Mills that the tip had been heeded and the captain had sent out a search party to recover Marian's body last night. Which means Robin would be there this morning and very much grieving. Her heart hurt for him.

Unfortunately, Marian's death fit a laundry list of other victims in the area. She was a young woman, missing for several months, and connected to Weaver Gold. Of course, she was the only one that knew for sure that Weaver Gold was the actual killer, but without actual physical evidence, she couldn't make that accusation. Thankfully, Robin's former association with him was enough to warrant further investigation.

Emma arrived at the office a little earlier than usual, sipping on her iced coffee (no repeats of yesterday, thank you very much), and reviewing her case files before Graham got there. She flipped through a number of pages, looking at names and faces of so many missing girls she hoped she wouldn't find like Marian. Ashley Boyd. Ivy Belfrey. Ariel Havfrue. Shirin Amira. Aurora Prince. Young women that had all gone missing without a trace within the last six months, from all walks of life with seemingly no connection to one another, except one: Mr. Gold. In one way or another, usually through a deal they had made to get out of a bad spot in their lives, all of them had a connection to Gold. And now that a body had turned up, it was time to dig deeper. She turned back to the bulletin board set up with information on Gold and his enterprise and looked at the red yarn webbing connecting pieces of these women's lives to him and it made her blood boil. She was going to be the one to take him down. She had to be.

"Hey, Em." Graham's sheepish voice came from the doorway behind her as her partner made his way into their shared office. "You're here early."

Emma nodded and hummed an affirmative sound before turning back to study her board. Graham cleared his throat and she turned back to him to see him watching her intently.

"Something you needed, Humbert?" she asked, gathering her files on the desk.

"Ah, no. Well, yes. Kind of," he rambled and Emma raised an eyebrow. He sighed deeply before continuing. "What I mean to say is I feel bad about yesterday. I can't help but feel like maybe your migraine was partially caused by what happened with me startling you and the spill, and of course I feel terrible about that as well. Anyways, I wanted to see about making it up to you by maybe taking you to dinner?"

It was Emma's turn to sigh. Graham looked like such a hopeful little puppy every time he asked her out that, at first, she hated to say no, but she just wasn't in the same place as Graham was. That was at first. Now, she still wasn't in the same place he was and rejection came automatically to her.

"Sorry, Graham. Don't mix business with pleasure. Is Mills in yet?" She tried to change the subject around Graham's crestfallen change in expression. He nodded and began shuffling through papers on his own desk.

"Uh, yeah. I dunno if she even went home last night after they pulled the body. They're razing the whole field to see if there's anymore case files we can close." Graham seemed to have found everything he needed and nodded at his desk, not meeting Emma's eyes. "I'll, uh, see you out there."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he left the office. When she was sure he was gone, she turned and picked up her case files and followed him out into the bullpen for the meeting.

Regina Mills was a no-nonsense, severe woman. She was rather imposing for her average stature, her raven hair always in its sleek bob, immaculate pantsuits for every occasion, big brown eyes that looked into the depths of your soul. Emma's two years under her as her captain were tumultuous, to say the least. Over time, they had learned to get along and had even become friends of a sort. Well, as close to being Emma's friend as you could get. But they understood each other, and that was more than Emma had with most people. Unbidden, Killian's face popped into her mind. Maybe he was someone who could understand, too. Emma shook his image from her head as fast as it entered, a flush crawling up her neck at how much she actually thought about someone she'd never even met before.

Things had actually been quieter on the encounters front. Instead of relief, Emma felt unsettled. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was very careful to avoid touching anything that might trigger her. Especially that damn shirt. But along with all of that, there was an underlying fear that she may be running out of time on multiple counts. If this Killian Jones needed rescue, she knew time was of the essence. Right now, though, she had a job to do.

She gathered her case files and walked into the bullpen, taking a seat on the edge of an open desk next to where Graham sat. A few other people had already gathered themselves. Jefferson, their tech analyst was typing away at his laptop, completely engrossed in his task. Two junior detectives, August Booth and Mulan Fa, stood chatting in front of the water cooler. The door to the central office opened and Captain Mills came striding out.

"Alright, people. As you all know, there was a huge break in the case yesterday with the unfortunate recovery of Marian Locksley's body. We still have no leads on the tip that came in leading to the location of her remains, but Jefferson is looking into that," she addressed the group and Jefferson gave a mock two fingered salute, eyes still glued to his screen. Emma felt butterflies rise up in her stomach, but she'd been careful. There's no reason she'd be found out. "Now, we have a solid lead on a connection to Weaver Gold in regards to these disappearances, but he's sealing up leaks quickly since the body was discovered. Information out of his operation is at an essential standstill. So, we'll have to get it from the source. Nolan, Humbert!" Emma's head snapped up at her name and Graham stood up straighter beside her.

"You have three days to get your affairs in order. Then you're undercover."

Emma's heart jumped into her throat as Regina continued to speak and passed them each a manilla folder with information on the identities created for them. She had never been undercover before in the four years since she'd been promoted to detective.

"Of course you'll want to use all in house resources before you go, you'll only have Jefferson as your contact once you are in the field," Regina continued and Emma looked up to her.

"Did Robin come in already?" she asked and Regina cocked an eyebrow.

"He's in my office. He's provided us with some invaluable intel towards your undercover assignment already," she replied.

"Is he... well, I mean I know he's not... but is he..." Emma struggled to find words to ask about the wellbeing of the man who had lost his wife. There was a reason Graham did most of the talking to the vics.

Regina gave a slow, cool nod.

"He's as well as can be expected," she said thoughtfully. It was rare to see an introspective Regina. She cared about a lot of things, but was never really one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Emma nodded, unsure of how to read Regina.

"Well, it looks like the going just got tough, so I better get going." She stood and the two nodded at each other before Emma walked to her office.

Inside, Graham was poring over the contents of the manila file on his desk with his undercover instructions. She sat opposite of him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed heavily.

"This is insane," he said, flipping his file closed sharply as Emma opened hers. She shrugged.

"We know the case the best. We've been working on it for months now and no one knows Gold better than the two of us. Makes sense." She continued to flip though the file outlining her role as a petty thief and Graham's as a fence of sorts. She scowled down at the pages in her hands.

"I know. You're right. I just can't help but feel like something bigger is going on. And I know that should make me more ready to go, but it just makes me nervous," he admitted. Emma looked up to him and studied the apprehension in his gaze.

"I know, Graham. It's a tough spot. But we're professionals and we can do this. At least we can count on one another." She offered him a warm smile which he returned with a stiff one of his own.

"Yeah. You're right. It must be first time undercover nerves. I'm gonna go grab a coffee and talk to Jefferson. You want anything?" he asked and Emma shook her head.

"No, I'm good. Gonna look through some things and probably head out for the day. Get everything ready to go." She shuffled the papers back into place and closed the folder.

"I'll leave you to it, then. See you Friday." He smiled gently at her again and she nodded her response, turning her attention to her computer as he left the space.

Emma rolled her neck, trying to relieve some tension. She could only hope this went smoothly and quickly. With Gold's status and notoriety, it was unlikely though. Her whole life was likely to be put on the back burner for quite some time. Ruby was going to be pissed. Protective pissed, but still pissed. And then there was the issue with Killian Jones. She felt a pang in her chest at the idea of leaving him to suffer through whatever she was supposed to be "saving" him from. She rolled the mouse on the screen as an idea came to her. She opened up a new search screen and began to type.

Killian Jones.

More than one result popped up in the records database, British naval records, immigration records, naturalization paperwork, guardianship records for one Liam Jones, but the blue eyes staring out from the mugshot on her screen she instantly recognized. So he had a past. She clicked on his arrest record and pulled up his history. Her jaw dropped almost comically.

Robbery.

Assault.

Burglary.

Breaking and entering.

Money laundering.

Evading arrest.

Attempted murder.

The litany of charges he had been arrested for was impressive, to say the least. Curiously enough, however, all charges were subsequently dropped after his arrest due to there not being enough evidence to hold him, except the assault. The assault, an apparently isolated incident against a man named Herman Ahab, he served two years behind bars for. But the scowling man with the piercing eyes and hard set to his jaw seemed absolutely capable of each and every allegation. A far cry to the soft image of a lost and hurting soul gazing wistfully over the sea that she had experienced before. Emma was more conflicted than ever. Was Killian Jones in danger? Or was he the danger himself? Before she could decide for herself the now familiar, but still panic inducing, scent of jasmine crept up on her causing her flesh to erupt in goose pimples.

Good man.

The soft voice murmured. Emma scoffed.

"Clearly," she said, feeling insane for acknowledging the encounter out loud. A surge of floral perfume surrounded her and the words were repeated, a little more forcefully.

Good man.

"If you say so. I don't know why I keep listening to you. I don't even know who the hell you are," she grumbled petulantly.

The voice whispered an answer to the statement she made almost immediately.

Milah.

"Milah, huh. You got a last name, Milah?" Emma asked, bringing up a new search screen to do a little more digging. As quickly as the encounter had come on, the scent of jasmine began to fade and Emma had the distinct feeling she was alone again.

She sighed heavily and clicked back on the page with Killian Jones’ information. The remaining charges on his rap sheet all appeared to be linked to a single arrest, so she pulled up the report and her heart almost slammed to a stop in her chest.

Killian Jones had been accused of trying to kill Weaver Gold.

Emma was never much of a believer in fate, but it seemed like there was something bigger at work here. Call it grand design, destiny, or whatever, there was much to get ready for.

#close encounters of the spiritual kind #chapter 4 #cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs ff au #csff

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sincerely-chaos · 7 years

Text

The cause-effect of going to islands to be a wedding photographer when you've almost forgotten how to use a camera and your mind is effectively trying to make you burn your bridges without choosing which one to cross (or "I don't know who I am, and I hate pasta aisles)

There’s one aspect of being impulsive and/or having a lot of divergent thinking (not to be directly translated as ‘neurodivergent thinking’ - divergent thinking is its own thing) that can often make me feel like I have very poor concept of who I am; the fact that my priorities constantly changes. What I wanted so much I couldn’t even sleep three days ago seems a bit silly today, and I might have thought that I value my spare time more than my career, but then “oh; what’s that shiny, interesting new work project that seems so exciting?? Of course I can do that in addition to what I already do!” tends to happen.

You think you know who you are, but you get stuck in the aisle in the grocery store, because you can’t decide what kind of pasta to get. Because in the end, it comes down to what kind of person you want to be.

Should you think about the environment and get the ecological kind or should you save money for a trip and buy the cheap kind? Do you want to be the kind of person who enjoys the little everyday treats and get the more expensive but also tastier one, or should you actually start prioritising your health and get the most healthy kind? Or perhaps you should– And then you stand there, ten different aspects of who you might want to be circling around in your head, several options seeming just as important as each other, and you have to go through them all, discard or accept them, and suddenly you’ve been standing and staring at pasta for several minutes, and is that

really the kind of person you want to be?

If you see seventeen sides of everything, making choices becomes somewhat difficult. And that’s divergent thinking for you; the ability to see hundreds of possible solutions and possibilities, and the lack of ability to decide on which one to go for, because you can gather up at least fifteen pros and con for each alternative, and when you count and compare them all, you eventually run out of metaphorical fingers, and so you have to start all over again, listing all the pros and cons and what was that third thing now again?

For this reason, I rarely buy anything new in the grocery store. I buy the exact same thing I always buy, unless I want to risk getting stuck. Or if I have an impulse. Impulses are what keeps me from getting stuck and keeps me moving forward. Without it, it would be utterly impossible to do new things. Too many options… So in this case, a somewhat impaired impulse control actually helps.

Now, pasta might not be the most defining thing about a person. But these… tendencies also affects bigger decisions. And it’s a bit confusing, not being able to let go of the thought that you want to get an old cottage and move out to the nature and grow your own veggies and live on very small means, and research this idea and plan for it and envision it in vivid detail only to suddenly, as you read a fic and are reminded of London, suddenly realise that no; you don’t want that cottage; you need to find a way to be able to live part time in London! And then you throw yourself into that, only to get influenced and absorbed by the next great plan; to work less and write a book, or to get your shit together and finally go into research, or maybe it’s time that you started to study to become–

To be clear; I’m not talking about daydreams here. I’m talking about a strong urge, a plan, a soon-to-be conviction over this one thing being that one thing you have to do with your life. All-consuming and urgent and–

–and you feel like you lose yourself somewhere along the way, because who was that person who wanted to learn to play the cello three weeks ago? And why did I think that I wanted to spend more time visiting family when I now realise that I am too introverted to stand seeing so many people I have a hard time talking to? Such naive little… And I was going to take things slowly and get my stress-related problems solved, and be mindful and… but now I realise that it’s more important to just *live* and so I’ll book this trip and accept this offer and look into going to that concert because you’ll never regret living too much. And so everything always changes. Even if you know yourself well enough not to act on most of these things (if I tried to act on them all I’d have a shit load of things that I had gotten for each and every new phase/style/interest and then give them away every time I became a minimalist…) it still gets very real and intense in your head when things shift so much.

And who are you anyway, and why did that person who you were two months ago think it a great idea to do wedding photography again, really? Now you’re packing your bags to go to a wedding out on an island and you realise that you hardly remember how to use your camera and you hate big parties and this is an awful idea and-

–and you’ve said you’ll do it so of course you will, but think next time, won’t you? I really hope who I am next week will be smarter than who I was two months ago.

This makes it utterly difficult to make big decisions, because you have to weather several "moods"/"ideas" before you know if the thought of moving into a bigger place is really what you want, or if it's just something that feels important right now, because you've learned not to make hasty decisions when it comes to big things, and so you can't act on it until there's a reasonable assumption that it's not just your current obsession that's telling you that changing job is a great idea (because that's one of the 'constants' that you've managed to maintain for several years and you have to be sure-- but can someone like you ever be sure? You doubt everything several times before lunch!).

And maybe everyone has this, and I just don’t know it, but unless everyone does; let me tell you, it’s not all that great. It’s a feeling of slipping through your own fingers and of having no outlines and of a lack of solid identity. And it’s a lot of very strange situations you end up in. Some rather horrid and some pretty amazing. It’s a lot of anxiety and a lot of stress and a lot of excitement and a lot of poor sense of self.

Well. That’s all I wanted to say. Now I’m gonna spend the rest of the night either packing for my trip to the island and the wedding (and I crammed hiking, canoeing and a visit to another country’s psychiatric ward in there as well), or prioritising resting, or maybe spend time with SO because he’s really important to me, or hang out on tumblr because I end up stuck here, or maybe I should just go and jump up and down on my brain for a while–

#chaos theory #very literally theories on chaos #adhd #divergent thinking #and all that jazz

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hearthehowling · 7 years

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hi there! i really like you and your posts and i really hope this question doesn't offend you, but how do you feel about the idea that ace people don't really fit in lgbt spaces? because they aren't really discriminated against so harshly. like yes, they face erasure, but i dont think they are really despised by a large section of society. like for example, i, as a transgender lesbian woman, definitely feel like i am genuinely hated by a lot of people.

Yikes.

Okay, for the sake of education and the opportunity to make even one person a little more accepting and loving of people, I’ll entertain this and set aside how offended I am. Hopefully by the end, you’ll understand why receiving this message– especially with how naive and good-intentioned it sounds, hurts me so very much. I’m going to try to organize this.

Aces, like other sexualities of the LGBT+ acronym, face corrective rape.

A survivor of this myself, I want you to know that it happens much, much more often than anyone gives it credit for. There are few resources for asexuals, and many resign themselves to engaging in sex or have it forced upon them because they are not aware there are others like them. Their place in the acronym raises awareness and allows many access to resources they would not have previously had. People may argue here due to the existence of asexuals who are not sex-repulsed. I’ll address that later.

Aces, like other LGBT+ identities, face conversion therapy.

Upon coming out to my mom, her first response was that we should get me a therapist and “fix” that. Or, that maybe I could be prescribed something? After a long moment of silence, she just said, “I just feel sorry for you.”

I have a somewhat unique position. I’ve come out gay and I’ve come out ace. The parallels are painfully visible to me. From people telling me I’m “missing out” because I literally am just not attracted to someone, be it one gender or anyone at all, to telling me that I could be fixed or that we could work on it. See above.

I have a knot in my stomach remembering looking through local therapists and seeing LGBT friendly ones listed and wondering if they would decide that my asexuality is some sort of subconscious internalized homophobia that keeps me from being a “real” lesbian.

God I wish I felt like that anxiety was unsubstantial. I have a particular gay male friend who does everything he can to let me know he doesn’t think I’m a “real” lesbian unless I’ve had sex with a girl which leads me to my next point…

Gatekeeping in the LGBT+ community is inherently contradictory to what that community stands for.

This was gonna be one of the later points but damn I transitioned into it so well. Listen, kids. Literally every part of the acronym has faced the same shit. So much so that people debate where that shit ends. Is it LGBT? LGBTQ?? LGBTQIA?? +???? Nothing is forever, the acronym will change and adapt, so can we stop arguing about marginalized groups like they’re some competition or exclusive club? Privilege is not the defining factor of an LGBTQIA+ identity. This is something that the entire community needs to get through its thick skull. Especially because deciding whether someone faces descrimination on just your own assumptions takes all agency from the group. This, again, has been repeated history.

One of the most common biphobic arguments is that they have some sort of “heterosexual passing privilege”, that they could just “choose to be het if they want”. Just denying it’s a part of who you are was expected of homosexuals from homophobes, then it was expected of bisexuals by homophobes and homosexuals alike, and it’s expected of asexuals. You could just have sex anyways, so it doesn’t count as LGBT. They’re basically straight. Hey another solid transition–

Identity is not measured by privilege, nor is it measured by hatred.

Look. There are aces that have had harder lives than some gays because of their sexuality. There have been some trans people who’ve had easier times than bisexuals. At the end of the day, we all face different levels of marginalization. Separating it into some hierarchy is counter intuitive to the intent of the LGBTQIA+ acronym (which, in case you have forgotten, is about support). If you fall out of the cis heterosexual category, you ain’t cishet. Sorry I don’t make the rules.

———

Just another little note. I felt so sad after receiving this ask. Not really because of its content so much. Just. Do you only ask my opinion because I’m also gay? If I were heteroromantic ace, would you have cared for my input?

I didn’t proofread much of this so I hope it ends up making sense. There are many, many more reasons than these, but these are the first that came to mind. I hope that this helps you understand. I guess it’s… very difficult for me to understand the concept of gatekeeping a community based in inclusion and support. Does that make sense?

As a homoromantic ace, those are my thoughts.

#tw rape #asexuality #ace discourse #asks #anon #personal

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