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miraculouslbcnreactions · 27 days

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Keep hearing people say maribug keep asking adricat if he's ok and he keep saying he's ok instead of telling her his problem but I don't remember it happened more than once in s4 in Rockettear but even then the circumstances of that episode did warrant the "nothing" answer he gave her unless he want to tell her that "nino tell me you let nino and alya know each other identity" which will reveal adricat identity. So when else did she ask? about the thing in hack-san, I think another credit goes to alya since she's the one who bring the topic to maribug who seems to be blissfully unaware that her leaving without telling adeicat that she send subtitute would be a problem.

I didn't get into this side of things in my other post because it was long and I wanted to focus on why Chat Noir's behavior was so frustrating, but this ask brings up the other big reason why the season four conflict was such a frustrating and terribly written plot line. Specifically, the part of your ask where you point out that Maribug seems blissfully unaware that her actions are having a negative impact on Chat Noir until someone points it out to her.

Yes, she is presented as blissfully unaware of this and every other interpersonal conflict we're given in season four. Your ask treats this as a failing on Maribug's part as if she should have obviously realized that she was in the wrong, but that's the whole problem. Telling kids - telling anyone really - that they should just magically know what others need is a frankly terrible life lesson as that's just not how the world works. You cannot just assume that everyone will have the same view of the world as you do and instantly pick up on the same issues as you do. That is the path to easily avoidable frustration and conflict. It also teaches people to assume that their view of the world is inherently correct when that is rarely the case. We often don't know the whole story and the other person's point of view may end up being equally or even more valid. This issue is extremely present in season four as Marinette has legitimate reasons to behave the way she does, which I'll get into in a bit.

If Marinette were written as feeling guilty about how she was treating Chat Noir, then this would be a different story. She'd be way more in the wrong and would shoulder a much greater portion of the blame. But as is? She has no idea that she's doing anything wrong. And until someone takes the time to tell her that her actions are causing harm, she is going to continue causing harm because she has no idea that she's causing harm.

In fact, I'd argue that the Alya thing in Hack San is a point in Maribug's favor. Throughout the episode, we see Marinette sending Alya messages on ways to be a good partner to Chat Noir, proving that she does in fact care about him. And then, as soon as Alya says, "You need to talk to Chat Noir," what does Maribug do?

She goes and talks to Chat Noir, giving him a pretty good apology for the problem she now knows she caused. Because, shockingly, Maribug doesn't actually want to hurt her partner. She also clearly cares about his feelings, making me want to take the season four conflict and tear it into itty bitty pieces because what is the conflict even supposed to be when you write shit like this?

I want to briefly step away from Miraculous and talk about this issue in a broader context via this YouTube short:

This short is from a Vietnamese woman who moved to Germany. Her YouTube channel is about her experiences there, including things like the short above which goes into the differences between what it means to be a dinner guest in Vietnam and what it means to be a dinner guest in Germany. In Vietnam, it's apparently standard for the guests to cook dinner with you where as, in Germany, you're expected to have the meal ready when the guests arrive, making this a situation where it's super easy to come across as rude just by doing what you think is normal.

Society is relatively aware that these types of culture clashes are a thing, but you don't have to be from different cultures to have these types of situations. Every person has their own unique needs and ideas of what "normal" is. The culture they were raised in will affect this, but so will their family, their personal needs, and many other factors. Two people can be raised on the same street and wind up with wildly different world views even though they supposedly share a culture. This is extra true when you add in compounding factors like neurodiversity, which is why it's an exercise in futility to say, "But Maribug should have realized..."

Well, she clearly didn't. And you can't change that she didn't realize whatever you're mad about. All you can do is have someone tell her what she's doing wrong. If she then continues the behavior, go ahead and judge away. But if she immediately corrects it like she did in Hack San? Doesn't that just prove that she truly didn't know that Chat Noir was hurting and would have probably fixed all of his problems if someone just pointed them out to her?

This is only exacerbated by the fact that Marinette's behavior in season four is largely unchanged from her behavior in previous seasons. The only major change is that she revealed her identity to Alya, but as soon as that's pointed out as a problem, she course corrects with an apology. After that, she thinks that everything is okay because why wouldn't she? Chat Noir said it was fine and everything else has been business as usual.

Bringing temp heroes into help as needed? That's been going on since season two. Having these additional members has been vital in multiple battles and there have been plenty of times where Chat Noir took a background role to the temp hero of the day like in Sapotis, Rena Rouge's season two debut. So why would Maribug suddenly think that this dynamic is a problem when it's been working fine for so long? We even had a whole episode about how Chat Noir was still needed in spite of the new heroes back in season three! Or, at least, I think that was Desperada's message? This show is shockingly bad at giving clear lessons.

Keeping guardian knowledge from Chat Noir? That's also been going on since season two and was even treated as a conflict that supposedly got resolved in the episode Syren which was the episode that ended with Master Fu coming to the mansion to talk to Adrien after everything was over.

When I watched that episode, I assumed this meant that Chat Noir was going to be more involved in things like picking the temp heroes. I actually thought this was how we were going to get Queen Bee because I knew she was going to be a thing, but it made no sense for Marinette to pick Chloe for a miraculous. Of course, I was wrong. Nothing changed after Syren. Chat Noir remained nothing more than the comic relief while Ladybug got all the insider info.

To be clear, I think that was a terrible move writing wise, but it doesn't change the fact that this is what they went with. This is the established dynamic. I can't even say that Alya learning Marinette's secret led to something new. She's just taken Marinette's old role while Marinette has taken on Master Fu's old role. This show loves it's status quo and Chat Noir has been at least tolerant of that status quo since Syren, so it's not surprising that Maribug doesn't register that this is a thing that should change and no one bothers to point it out to her even though she has a mentor in Tikki (and Su Han, I guess?) and a confidant in Alya and a whole slew of Kwamis who could also provide insight if they were allowed to do that sort of thing. (Sass and Wayzz were robbed of mentor roles.) Additional blame goes to Plagg because he should absolutely have told Adrien to talk to Ladybug. What is the point of giving these characters mentors who never mentor? It's aggravating in the extreme.

To circle back to the first part of your ask, outside of Hack San and Rocketear, I don't think there are any times when Ladybug invites feedback from Chat Noir unless you want to give credit to the end of Kuro Neko:

Cat Noir: (lands next to her) I've been a really temperamental kitty, m'lady. I didn't realize how much trouble I'd make for you by giving back my Miraculous. Ladybug: (sits closer to him) Just because I don't need you all the time doesn't mean that I don't need you at all, Cat Noir. No one could ever replace you.

Which isn't Maribug inviting him to tell her what's up, but she is clearly willing to listen to him and reassure him, further backing up my point about this conflict being some of the worst writing I've ever had to suffer through. If Maribug always fixes the issue as soon as she learns about it, you are not writing a situation where she's clearly in the wrong. You are writing an easily solved communication issue where she gets blamed for something she clearly doesn't realize she's doing wrong and it is so frustrating!!! I feel so bad for her. The next episode is Penalteam, btw, which starts the battle with this gem:

Ladybug: (laughs) Nice scare tactics, but it's not gonna work. Cat Noir and I are the best at soccer! Cat Noir: (Whispers to Ladybug) I don't know a thing about soccer M'lady. Maybe it's time to call the real team?

And basically just spends the whole episode making Chat Noir seems like a worthless partner while Maribug tries her best to make him - and everyone else - feel special.

Oh, and the episode before Kuro Neko? Well, it's technically Ephemeral, but that got magically overwritten so let's go one further back and we get to Dearest Family, which ends with this:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, (wears the crown on his head) would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition!

Oh yes, these two are in such conflict and Maribug does nothing to validate Chat Noir. He's in pain every episode and she's just totally oblivious to it.

If that was what they wrote, then I'd probably agree that we needed more instances of her asking if Chat Noir was okay. But it's not what they wrote. If you look through the list of season four episodes, you'll find that less than half of them deal with the supposed conflict of the season (by my count, only 8 of the 24 episodes before the final actually showcase the conflict and they are not in a logical order in terms of escalation as I tried to demonstrate above). The rest of the episodes flat out ignore it or even straight up work against the conflict like when Ladybug says this to Chat Noir in Guilttrip: "I probably don't tell you this enough, but I couldn't do this without you. And it'd be a lot less fun too."

Seriously, what even is this season? What is the conflict supposed to be? Because it sure as shit isn't Maribug undervaluing Chat Noir, if memory servers, season four sees her validate him more times than any other season. And it isn't her guiltily hiding things from him like so many fanfics claim because we have multiple points of evidence that prove that she's completely oblivious that there even is a conflict. So what conflict are the writers actually trying to write?

What's even more baffling is that none of this logically leads to the loss at the end of the season:

Maribug's new secrets didn't lead to her downfall. The only reason she lost was because of the secret that's always been there - a fact that's never revealed to her - and a freaking evil twin! So why did it matter that Maribug was keeping secrets? This is made even worse by season five maintaining all of the secrets, once again begging the question of what lesson were we trying to teach here???

Chat Noir wasn't needed for the final fight of the season, Maribug only needed the powers of a few of the temp heroes to win, a baffling ending to a season whose focus was Chat Noir feeling unimportant. You could scrap that conflict entirely and the ending would not change. In fact....

Adrien quitting to be nothing more than a good little boy who obeys his father would have actually saved the world from eventually being rewritten. If you think about it, the season four final actually punishes Adrien for being defiant. So does season five as, if Chat Noir had quit, his father would still be alive. I thought this show was supposed to be a romcom, not a tragedy. Why is Adrien being punished for being a hero? Is this supposed to be karma for lying to Ladybug with the whole Catwalker thing?

This shit is why I say I'm a writing salt, character sugar blog. I can't get mad at the characters when they're in such a nonsense story where things never logically tie together. They all deserve so much better.

None of this is meant to imply that ignorance is a blanket excuse for hurting others. Nor is it meant to imply that you have to forgive someone who hurt you just because they didn't mean to. There's a ton of nuance around these topics. But season four acknowledges none of that nuance while creating a situation that desperately needed nuance because there was no clear right and wrong here. Should Maribug work to be more aware of others feelings? Sure, but that journey can only start after she's made aware of her faults and no one ever points them out to her. Does Chat Noir need to work on clearly communicating his needs? Desperately, but no one is teaching him that lesson so he remains a terrible communicator who suffers in silence. What impressively bad writing.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #kuro neko salt #my queendom for some good character arcs #and good story arcs #there's just so much squandered potential here #ml fandom salt #ml fandom critical #Adding those tags because I am sick of people holding Marinette to unrealistic expectations #This was long so I didn't add this part of the rant but:#It's important to remember how much we know as an audience vs what Maribug knows #Adrichat is really good at putting up a front that everything is fine #And Marinette knows nothing about his homelife when he's Chat Noir #Plus the show has made this kids kinda terrible at understanding Adrien's home life

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redstarwriting · 1 year

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the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

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In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

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『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @weyrrii*

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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situation ask game: joe hills for 16?

16. Meeting past/future self

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says.

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says back. "This seems to be quite the predicament."

"Oh god, there are two of them," whispers Doc. He'd just wanted to check on the log shop, man. Joe had said something about fixing some redstone (inherently terrifying to hear), and he'd just wanted to come check on it and inevitably fix the fixed redstone, and now there are two of them.

"I have to say," the first Joe Hills--presumably, the original one, given that he's insisting on saying everything through that stupid hand puppet he made this season, although Doc couldn't tell you--says. "I'm fairly certain seeing my own ghostly visage is normally considered a bad sign in most literature. Luckily, this isn't literature, so I can ignore the ill portent."

"Alas, I am, in fact, a bad omen," the second Joe Hills says, all too cheerfully. The second Joe Hills does not have a hand puppet and appears by all measures to be a ghost. Doc would generally agree that's a bad sign too, except for the fact that the Joe he knows is a ghost about fifty percent of the time, and oh no, he's already confused. There are two of them and he's already confused.

Maybe he should go get some coffee. The cafe Cleo set up is supposed to be good, and if he's this confused, maybe he'll manage to get himself to walk past the cats before he remembers he's supposed to be scared.

"Oh no," Doc's Joe says. "I don't have time for bad omens. For one, I'm not any good at killing pillagers. For another thing, I'm busy. See I was trying to help and I accidentally broke Doc's redstone and I feel bad because I think he's like, actually for-real mad about it, not fake mad, and we're supposed to be business partners, right, so I thought I'd come here and fix the redstone. Except then when I was hanging out with Mumbo at the end of our setup confessional Mumbo mentioned something and I just now remembered it and I think I fixed it wrong, so I'm here to try to figure that out, and that means I really don't have time for a bad omen."

"We never do," the ghost Joe says, shaking his head.

Doc, weirdly, feels touched.

"So if you could go away and give me dire warnings later--"

"Sorry, I don't have time to be put off for later! If you put this off for future Joe, you're putting this off to me! Then I'll have to do this all over again, and it'll be a closed time loop. Or, I guess mostly closed, because I don't remember this. But maybe you hit your head and forget everything! I don't know! I don't know how time travel works, but closed time loops were always the really confusing ones because they try to make sense. If we don't try to make sense you might still be able to change things."

"Oh no. What if this is a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"I hadn't considered that," the ghost Joe says.

"I mean, everything I've ever read says that in trying to avert catastrophe, I am likely to accidentally cause it!" Doc's Joe says.

"Maybe the solution is for you to not believe my warnings?" the ghost Joe says. "No, that always ends badly too. That means there's dramatic irony!"

"Right, right. Maybe you just have to be as clear as possible, so I can't misinterpret your words?"

"No, I think the solution is to be vague," the ghost Joe says. "Good prophecies are normally vague that way. I mean, I'm mostly just here to tell you how to avert the nasty end of the world that kills everyone super dead, not anything too complicated! If I put too many details in, I'll leave in a dramatically appropriate loophole by accident, and then you'll never manage it."

"True, but Cleo says that I should always be given exact instructions, or I'll do the wrong thing on purpose," Doc's Joe says.

"We do that even more with exact instructions."

"That is true! And I guess it's harder to remember exact instructions?"

"Maybe the solution, given that I am going to vanish back to the past in five minutes," the ghost Joe says, "is that I should simply write down my instructions. That will make them harder to misremember or misinterpret."

"I will lose those too! This is too much responsibility!"

"I know! That's what I said!" ghost Joe says. "I said, why are you asking me. I mean I know the ghost thing is the only reason I can do this, but I don't want this kind of responsibility! I am not trustworthy! You all have known this since, like, day one, stop putting this kind of stressful responsibility on me! I do weird things when I'm stressed! I mean, I'm always stressed--"

"That's true, we are," Doc's Joe interjects.

"--but this is even more stressful than that! If I thought anyone else could do it, I would have said no! And now I don't know how to--"

"Man, if the world is going to end and kill all of us, stop worrying and just say how," Doc says, stepping out of his hiding place and throwing up his hands. "You're wasting time!"

"Oh, you're right," ghost Joe says. "So, the world will end when--"

He vanishes.

Doc and Doc's Joe stare after ghost Joe into the distance. Finally, Joe, with the world's most betrayed expression, turns to Doc.

"You scared me off!" he says. "If you hadn't shown up I'm sure I would have explained eventually."

"WHAT," Doc says as calmly as possible back. It does not appear to appease the Joe he's left with at all.

#answered #boonbeenblade #ask game #a bee fic #joe hills #docm77 #hermitcraft #hermitfic #two joes would form the world's dumbest feedback loop is what i'm saying.

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balioc · 3 months

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Oh, boy! It's Education Theory o'Clock again!

...I have a lot of thoughts on this topic. At some point, when I'm less busy and tired, I should probably try to write them up. Natively, I'm one of the school-is-a-nightmare-prison people, like so many others in this little discourse-sphere -- but I'm married to a middle school teacher, so I regularly encounter both the good arguments from the other side and the facts on the ground, and those things have altered my perspective somewhat.

But I am, in fact, busy and tired. So for now I'll just content myself with saying:

School is an institution that serves many, many, many purposes at the same time. A lot of those purposes are load-bearingly important. (A couple of years ago, I wrote this about college, and...it's double-plus true for primary and secondary schools.) If you don't try to account for all of that stuff in your theory of What School Is and How School Works, you will generate incoherent garbage thoughts. If you have a New Concept for school entailing top-down design that is optimized for a single function (like "increasing test scores" or "causing kids to love learning" or whatever), you'd better have a plan for how you're going to do all the other important things that schools do. And even if you think that some of those things aren't actually important or necessary, you'd better have a plan for dealing with all the people who disagree. Because...

-----

...school, as it exists today, is an inherently political institution. Both in the "soft" sense that everyone has strong opinions about what it's supposed to do and how it's supposed to work, and in the "hard" sense that it is actually controlled by democratically-accountable governments. (This is double-plus true in the US, where it is controlled by local governments, and therefore doesn't even have the protective insulation of a massive bureaucracy.) Everything about the way schools work is a compromise brokered amongst ideologues and self-dealers. Everything about the way schools work involves a lot of decision-makers trying not to get yelled at by the yelliest people around. If you're looking for elegant purpose-driven top-down design, you won't find it. You could probably make a case that any elegant purpose-driven top-down design would be better than the thing we actually have, but getting there would require finding a way to remove the political element.

-----

Most importantly: public schools are (1) compulsory, (2) universal, and (3) for children. [People who are legally children, anyway, whether or not they are actual children in whatever sense matters to you.]

This means that they cannot let students leave, and they have to keep control of all the students that they aren't allowing to leave.

In the most literal not-a-judgment-but-a-fact sense, they are indeed prisons. They are coercively keeping people inside. They have to do that thing, as per their most fundamental mandate within the current system. The alternatives involve letting kids run around unsupervised, and/or failing to give some kids even the most cursory kind of education, and those things are absolute non-starters under present conditions.

All the normal institutions-for-adults operate on the principle of -- If you really don't want to be here, you can leave, and deal with whatever consequences there may be for leaving. This is not an option for schools, and that fact accounts for...everything.

Classroom structure is built around the necessity of keeping the most-hostile, least-engaged student in the class present and supervised, and then trying to prevent him from disrupting things for everyone else. Because the obvious solution that any other institution would use -- "just cut him loose, he doesn't want to be here and we don't want him here" -- isn't available.

(I once talked to my wife about the rationed bathroom access thing, which is one of the most flagrant nightmare-prison aspects of the school experience. Her response was, "If you let kids use the bathroom whenever they want, as much as they want, then you don't have mandatory universal education anymore. Some of them will never return to the classroom, because they don't want to be there." Which is...obviously true.)

So you have something that replicates many of the features of prison, because it has to accomplish the same basic tasks that prison accomplishes. Yay, Foucault.

#education

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 4 months

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Canon events aren't bad, Miguel's just projecting his trauma.

One of the things that will always stand out or bother me in this scene are these three lines from Miguel:

Because... Wait what?

SOME OF THEM ARE GOOD??

Miguel admits himself that some canon events can be positive - but he names none, refusing to show any of these instances, instead surrounding Miles with images of loss and grief.

Even he admits that Canon Events aren't inherent tragedies.

They only come off that way, because he's hyperfixated on suffering. Largely, his own.

People have talked about Miguel's background in the past and that's a job for a Spider-man 2099 fan - but in short, Miguel DID NOT have a good life.

If you think about it - it's extremely hard for Miguel to POSITIVELY connect with other Spider-people.

He lacks the spider-bite, has no MJ, Harry, Doctor Octavius, or May. He's never had the experience of happily and excitedly coming into his powers.

The only thing he has, is a lot of tragedy.

Him not having many positive events in his life is just another reminder of how he's othered.

Because he's unable to connect to other Spider-people based on things like biology, love, familial connection to aunt May, the driving lesson that 'with great power comes great responsibility'.

Much of all knows is tragedy.

Because of this he hyperfixates on traumatic Canon Events, using the resulting fear as a source of unity, rather than uniting them all over good, constructive Canon Events.

Idk it just always stood out to me. Cause what do you mean GOOD???

Either Miguel is wrongfully weaponizing 'Bad' Canon Events as a source of authority - protecting his trauma and ignoring the good-

OR he's lying about there being good Canon Events, and that's something he tells them to make them feel better. Which would be fucked up.

OR OR The Canon Events he considers 'good' aren't actually good at all. Marrying your MJ might be a 'good' canon event. But you still have to do it. Even if you aren't into marriage.

Isn't that an arranged marriage?

If I don't wanna marry my MJ, but that's my Canon Event, is Miguel gonna beat my ass over it? 🤨😐

[Yes, that's apart of Dianes lore lol Her MJ Martin is a poseur-punk asshole rich record producer whose bordering misogynistic. He hates Hobie. But uhh oh he's supposed to be a 'good canon event']

But like...

If Jessica Drew's canon event was getting pregnant and the next one is like 'nah I want my tubes tied' Miguel gonna be like 'sorry no can do'?????????

HUH... IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN BY GOOD??? Compulsory 'positive' events.

BUT NO REALLY what the hell is Miguel talking about???

#Did y'all catch this??#Cause what do you mean some good #can you show me ONE please #ELABORATE HOE #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara

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the-rat-eatery · 1 year

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Something that I think is so great about She-Ra is that it portrays selfishness as a good thing. So many stories about “chosen ones” and “saving the world” are presented as acts of selflessness; it’s the sacrifices that bring the world to peace. She-Ra isn’t like that. It isn’t without its sacrifices, we think of Angella and Mara and Shadow Weaver- but they aren’t the focus. Catra becomes more selfless over the course of the fifth season, but that’s just character development- not the thing that saves the world.

Adora is a martyr. Obviously. The classic way for the story to handle this is to have her die in the finale- a death tragic but necessary. If she were to die there would no doubt be statues built in her honor, if she had died in the initial seasons then that death would surely be something that was presented as honorable- something to be avenged and be in awe of. But her inherent heroism, her selflessness, is repeatedly shown to be a bad thing for Adora- the person. Sure, the longevity of Adora’s She-Ra might have been expanded if she had given her life for the cause, the stories told in her wake more grand, a punchier ending to the tale, but Adora herself would have felt no benefit- she would have been a corpse. It is Catra, and Catra’s selfishness, that saves her.

Catra is interesting in that way. We see her arc climax with an act of selflessness- her saving Glimmer in exchange for what she thought would be her life. But it ends with her being selfish, choosing to confess to Adora in the end, desperately asking her to stay- the only thing she ever wanted from her. It is want that saves them both in the end, want is an entirely selfish act.

Adora’s selflessness is questioned throughout the fifth season by Catra, something that is taken as a given by everyone else in the rebellion. They were all expected to lay down their lives for the rebellion, but Adora was on the front lines. This isn’t even questioned by Bow and Glimmer, who stood back when Adora (without any discussion) was unanimously decided to be the one to take the failsafe. Yes, they didn’t know the repercussions then, but Adora was still the leader, and she was the one expected to take the responsibility. Catra’s selfishness, her not wanting to let Adora go is what brought Shadow Weaver’s deception to light. She wants, and that saves the person she is wanting. Want is lifesaving, want is a good thing.

I like this because selfishness is good, actually. Selfishness is the thing love thrives on, it’s why living isn’t surviving.

Selflessness is giving up what we want for someone else’s good. This is good in measure, I’m not saying that everyone should take everything that they want all the time- the world would be chaos. But selflessness can go too far, and we see this in She-Ra. Selflessness can wrap back over into selfishness when you’ve got too much of it- barreling over with giving and giving yourself to other people in a feeble attempt to avoid dealing with your own problems. But the selfishness of She-Ra is the selfishness that is required of love. It is confession. It is, instead of accepting death for the sake of all, fighting for the life you want. Wanting is such a human thing. Not even a human thing, it’s just a life thing. And that same wanting is chastised by the media. We aren’t supposed to want, especially if we’re gay; and if we do then the honorable, right thing to do is to give it up for the good of other people. She-Ra shows us the opposite. Selfishness saves the world and wanting is good.

#she ra 2018 #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra #she ra adora #catra #catradora

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

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Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter Seven: Stare Down With the Devil

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader, Twin!JJ Maybank x reader

TW: trauma and abuse, so much angst, fluff, mentions of panic and trauma response, fluff, I think thats it

Summary: Your past comes back to confront you.

Word count:4.3k

Your body practically floats across the yard toward the truck, an effervescent glow radiating directly from your soul. Happiness seeps out of your pores as your hand rests on your protruding belly, now nearly 20 weeks pregnant.

The sun's rays warm your skin and reflect off the light sheen of sweat caused by the unforgiving summer heat, glittering like the ocean on a calm serene day. You're humming along to a song as you walk, your head bobbing as an occasional lyric slips past your cherry-flavored lips.

Suddenly, the peach fuzz on the back of your neck stands at attention and you freeze mid-stride. The air has shifted, light and salty sea breeze giving way to a thick and suffocating energy; a heavy atmosphere that you know all too well.

The earth seems to catch on as it stops on its axis, the birds silent so as not to alert the lurking predator. It's eerily quiet in a way that forebodes tragedy and causes your stomach to sink; the calm before the storm.

You smell him before you see him; the pungent aroma of Marlboro reds and stale Pabst Blue Ribbon assaulting your nostrils. It's the worst kind of nostalgia washing over you like waves of ice water, and you feel like you've been doused in kerosene with a match flickering dangerously close to your flesh.

You're acutely aware of every cell that's working overtime in your body, seemingly all uniting with one glaring message. Run. It's as if you're inherently trained to identify the threat that is your father, and you suppose that makes sense after years of tending to your wounds.

A fear that you've come to associate with the man crawls up your spine, plucking at each individual nerve ending along the way. It feels as though you're tuned into even the smallest functions of your body as adrenaline floods your nervous system.

Your focus seems to zoom in on a thousand things at once. A bead of sweat tickles the column of your throat as it slowly inches toward your chest; a sensation that feels all wrong compared to Rafe's soft lips that can be found following the same path anytime he's near you.

The band of your bikini top digs into your ribs with enough force to leave nasty red marks that will no doubt make Rafe's eyebrows furrow; you can already hear him whispering that looks painful while his hands soothe the ache.

Blood rushes in your ears with each thump of your battered heart, and if you really focus you're certain you can feel each and every one of your brain synapses firing.

Your body goes rigid, your frame instinctively shrinking the way it did when you were a kid. Call it an old survival habit; a learned behavior that you adopted after one too fists to the cheek.

It's a feeble attempt to make yourself less of a target, a desperate hope that if you become smaller he won't see you and you'll make it out alive.

"Hey, cupcake."

The familiar rasp of his voice seeps into the air, leeching into your spasming lungs before snaking its way around your throat. The nickname forces your shoulders back, anger overpowering your fear as it registers in your clouded mind.

It's the one good thing JJ picked up from your father, an old moniker you earned as a child after getting sick on the sugary treat. Your brother refused to let Luke ruin it, and usually it blankets you in a sticky sweetness that makes your heart swell.

Hearing it drip from your father's tongue is like swallowing bitter cough medicine that makes you gag, and it feels like barbed wire is wrapped around your chest. You whip around with enough ferocity for stiff joints to crack, and glare at the man.

"Don't call me that." You snap, automatically taking a step back; away from the safety of the house. Away from Rafe, whose sitting inside surely wondering what's taking you so long.

Your father ignores you, his eyes focused on your bump.

"I'll be damned. So it is true. Is that Cameron boy really the father?"

He looks up through his lashes, a disgusting grin bearing his stained teeth. You don't respond and he takes that as your answer, letting out a low whistle.

"I knew you were my kid. Us Maybanks are always conmen in the end. You're gonna be swimming in dough. Twins mean double the child support."

His dirt-covered hands reach out to touch the swollen mound where your children rest, and you swat him away before you can think better of it.

"Don't fucking touch me. My kids are not cash cows that you can rob like me and JJ."

He raises his eyebrows and you stand taller, a silent slap in the face that says I'm not afraid of you. It doesn't matter that you're pushing down full-blown panic, or that you feel like the same powerless child you were all those years ago.

He doesn't need to know that.

"I didn't rob you and that boy. I had a right to anything you brought home, I'm your father."

You suck your teeth and give a short nod, briefly biting your top lip before releasing it. The way he refers to his own flesh as 'that boy' rubs you the wrong way, but you let it slide.

"Right, whatever. When did you get back anyway?"

It's the question that's been nagging at you since the beginning of the interaction. The last time you saw him was when JJ almost took a wrench to his skull, and a few days later your brother told you he was gone for good.

At the time you had pestered him for more details, terrified that he had done something stupid. He'd spent hours reassuring you under the moon's beams, swearing that Luke had run off in search of a new life.

"Few days ago. Started working out a way to get here as soon as I heard I'm gonna be a grandpa."

The smile he flashes is with practiced ease, and it would fool you if you were anyone else. You know there's something sinister simmering under the surface; a nuclear bomb just waiting to be detonated.

Against your better judgment, you laugh in his face. A full belly-shaking laugh that causes you to hunch over slightly.

"You're even more delusional than I thought if you really believe that. You're not going to be within a hundred miles of them, and you're sure as shit not family."

Your roaring laughter ceases when you see a familiar flash in the eyes that your brothers shares, and fight or flight takes the reigns. Your hearing muffles as the color drains from your face, the sound of your voice is foreign to you as you scream out.

"Rafe!"

Your father falters for a moment, not expecting your boyfriend to be here. It occurs to you then that he had mentioned child support, and you realize that whoever told him had left out the bit of information about your relationship.

Your blood-curdling shriek has Rafe sprinting in your direction, the sound a stark contrast to your saccharine voice that reminds him of ice cream on a scorching afternoon.

A nauseating sense of dread pushes him forward as he stands on the porch, his eyes wild as they frantically search for you. There's only one thing he can think of that would illicit such raw and primal emotion from you.

He figures he must have truly taken a nose dive off the deep end for a moment because there's no feasible way that could be what's happening. He watches as Luke takes a step toward you, and bounds down the steps of the chateau.

Your panicked eyes dart to look over Luke's head, and the animalistic urge to protect his family consumes Rafe whole. Bile rises in his throat at the site of you so distraught, and he races to close the distance separating the two of you.

Luke notices you looking at something and stops; he may be an asshole but he's not stupid. He slowly turns around just before your boyfriend reaches him, and subtly cowers back.

There Rafe stands, all six foot two of rugged muscle pulled taut as he looms over the first man to break your heart. His lips turn down into an angry frown, the gleaming smile that usually displays his adoration for you nowhere to be found.

His eyes have adopted a steely glare, dark and narrow in a way that reminds you of a snake ready to strike its prey. Your gaze lingers on his hands, locked firmly at his sides as his fingers flex; brutality begging to be released.

His jaw ripples with tension as he clenches his teeth, hateful words filled with venom ready to fly freely like hollow point bullets designed to kill. He glances over at you, the urge to scan your body for the tiniest scratch clawing at his chest; demanding to know that you're safe.

A hot tear burns your cheek, and Rafe's eyes trace its trail until it falls off your chin. He's laser-focused on that singular glistening sign of your anguish; ironclad proof that you are in fact not okay.

It ignites a blazing inferno within him; a new feeling that makes his usual temper look like a dying flame way off in the distance. It feels as though live wires are buzzing beneath his tan skin, sending shock waves from the tips of his fingers all the way to his toes.

The entire purpose of his existence pivots, and there's a blaring alarm going off that screams kill, kill, kill.

"I will cut your hand off and shove it down your fucking throat before I let you lay a finger on her ever again. So if you're wanting to hit someone, hit me."

The low register of his voice settles deep in your bones, his raspy timbre somehow a few octaves deeper than usual. He says it so calmly, like it's the most casual statement he's ever made, and your eyes widen.

It's no secret Rafe can be explosive, the shrapnel of his outbursts embedding in anyone within earshot. The man speaking now is someone else entirely; cold and calculated, completely in control of the situation.

Luke goes to argue, and you catch the exact moment the thread inside of Rafe snaps. The thick vein on the side of his neck threatens to burst free as his face burns red, and his nostrils flare. He takes a step forward, his scream reverberating off the water and trees as he unleashes a wrath that rivals God.

"Go on, hit me. Hit me like you hit her!"

His index finger jabs his diaphragm as he accentuates his words, and more tears blur your vision. There's an emotion deeper than anger hidden in his tone; something akin to despair and disgust.

Rafe means every single word. He wants your father to hit him. He wants to know what his fist feels like as it makes contact. He needs to know what you felt.

He needs to know how far the ache spreads from the point of impact, how big the bruise is, how long it takes it to bloom, and what shades of brown and yellow it fades to as it heals.

Luke squares his shoulders and Rafe takes a step forward. He glowers down at your father, silently daring him to make a move.

JJ and the pogues watch from the porch, having come out after hearing your shout. JJ stands frozen in place as the scene unfolds, his mind racing a million miles an hour. It's when he sees the two men having their stand-off that he finally kicks into gear, making a beeline for you while telling his friends not to move.

You feel his arms wrap around you as he pulls you back, and try to figure out when the hell he even showed up. He's whispering quiet reassurances in your ears while he tries to turn you away to put your face in his neck, but you don't budge.

Your bloodshot eyes are fixed on Rafe, too afraid to blink. The world seems to move in slow motion. Your father laughs. Rafe's arm twitches. Your breaths come out in quick short pants. Rafe inhales slowly. Every move is premeditated and deliberate.

JJ starts to panic behind you. He's powerless in this moment. He can't control a single circumstance. Rafe's knuckles turn white in a clenched fist. He's decided to end it all right here.

You know this. You can see it in his eyes.

"Rafe, stop!"

You shout just in time and he looks at you with his arm frozen mid-swing. Luke turns to the side and glances between the two of you, Rafe's eyes soften upon seeing yours glassed over and pleading.

Your father shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles cruelly before peering at Rafe.

"She's really got you fooled, huh? Hungry dogs are never loyal. She's a Maybank, she'll bolt as soon as there's a better opportunity. Its runs in the family."

Rafe starts to lunge, completely forgetting your command. He can beg for forgiveness later.

"This is where it runs out."

Your voice rings out, wobbly but forceful as Rafe stares at you.

JJ's in front of you now, creating a barrier between you and the man. If Luke wants to get to you, hell have to get through him first. That is Rafe even lets him get that far.

Your boyfriend senses the shift; sees the gears turning in your head as an entire lifetime of unspoken words threatens to pour out. He moves forward and stands behind you with one arm wrapped just below your collarbones and his other hand rubs comforting shapes on your stomach.

Luke falters, his cold glare darting between his two kids. JJ moves to stand next to Rafe and allows you to set your sights on the man that terrorized you.

How can you have matching smiles and the same mannerisms, but be so different? You and your father are intricately intwined, sharing so many little traits. somehow you look exactly like him, yet bear no resemblance at all.

You're exactly the same and nothing alike, a mind boggling paradox. The same temper and sharp tongue, yet a different heart altogether.

Your fingers come up to wrap around Rafe's forearm while you let him ground you, and the fog starts to clear. You know you're safe, and for the first time in your life you can speak your mind.

Your head shakes from side to side slowly, your chest torn open as your beating heart is put on display.

"Please just tell me why. Why're you doing this to us? You don't have to do this. You didn't have to do any of it."

Rafe's arm tightens, and he ignores the burning sting of your nails as they nearly break his skin.

"Y/N, don't. It's not worth it."

JJ's hand is on your shoulder as he takes a step forward, and he stares at the side of your face.

Isn't it though? Don't the two of you deserve some sort of closure?

"Stop waiting for an apology you'll never get. It wouldn't make a difference anyway."

On a certain level, you know your brother is right. Still, you can't for the life of you bring yourself to tear your eyes away from your father's. In this moment it's not a grown woman staring back at him; it's a hurt little girl who just wants her dad.

Luke doesn't say anything, and his silence is like a serrated knife to your windpipe.

"Do you even regret what you did to us?"

It's a quick flash, impossible to notice if you weren't holding such intense eye contact, but you see a flicker of emotion in his usually blank eyes. You know he won't acknowledge the pain he caused, yet you continue anyway.

"You made our lives a living hell. You blamed us for everything and gave us scars that will never fully fade. You wanna know what the worst part is? What's absolutely fucked? If you asked me to forgive you, I would. Despite everything, I still love you and I hate it. That's the person I am. You didn't break me."

He casts his eyes toward the ground, focusing on the crumpled grass in the shape of your feet.

Your desolation is slowly being overtaken by resentment, and a fire that bears a striking resemblance to that of the man in front of you dances in your eyes.

You've spent your entire life trying not to be like him, but that doesn't mean you didn't inherit his vicious temper and ability to be cold-hearted. You just learned to control it.

"I wanted to be soft and kind. I wanted to frolic in the waves and go to daddy-daughter dances and be proud of you, even once. I wanted to be a kid, and you turned me into a fucking soldier. The war is over and yet I'm still fighting like I'm in the middle of the battlefield that was supposed to be our home."

If Rafe was ever curious to know what it feels like to have his heart ripped out through his rib cage, he doesn't have to wonder anymore. The grief and vulnerability in your voice nearly bring him to his knees, and he gently spins you around so you're facing him.

His rough hands find purchase on your neck, large thumbs rubbing along your cheekbones in soothing motions.

He tilts your head to look at him and your eyes flutter closed, your lower lip trembling as you inhale a sharp breath; a futile attempt to withhold your swirling emotions as the shackles around your heart weaken.

Rafe leans down, his own eyes squeezed shut when he rests his forehead against yours. He chooses his words carefully; part of him knows this is a defining moment that has the power to either help heal you or solidify the damage.

His voice is soft like spring showers as it rains down on you; soaking through your armor and forcing it to slip away.

"Lay down your sword. You won, there doesn't have to be any more bloodshed."

It sends you over the edge and you crumple in his arms. He catches you with ease, his hand smoothing down your hair as he shushes you.

JJ's eyes sting with tears at the sight of you finally falling apart after years of holding it together, and he looks at his father.

"Dad, please. Just let us go. Let us go."

Your father takes one last look at you and turns on his heel. JJ breathes a sigh of relief, and the rest of the group slowly approaches as the elder Maybank disappears. John B has always had an inkling about the reality of your home life, but nothing was ever confirmed.

The rest of them are completely in the dark. They knew that you and JJ didn't like to go home, and of course they knew that Luke is a piece of shit. Anything further than that was kept hidden.

Rafe's heart shatters as he holds your trembling figure, wails unlike anything he's ever heard ripping from your throat. All he can feel is melancholia.

How could he feel anything else? His sweet girl that would do anything to make someone smile, that wakes up every day and chases away the darkness that looms over him just by existing, that sees the misery in the world and decides to sprinkle in a little goodness, beaten and broken down by the one person that was supposed to protect her. Of course it fills him with sorrow.

Rafe locks eyes with JJ, unsure what else to do besides let you openly weep. Your brother nods toward the house, and your sweet boyfriend bends down to press his lips to the shell of your ear.

"Let's go inside, yeah?"

You don't protest, and he gently guides you toward the house while your brother and friends look on. Kie and Sarah are crying now too, devastated to see you see the truth beneath your bubbly personality.

"What the hell was that all about?"

John B has to look away lest his emotions get the best of him and focuses on JJ.

"Nothing."

JJ's tone is defensive as he rips his backward cap off and wrings it between his hands.

"Didn't look like nothing."

Your brother's hair flops against his forehead as he shakes his head and starts toward his bike.

"Doesn't matter, okay? It's all over for good now. Just drop it."

Everyone looks at each other as he speeds off without another word, and JB blows out a long breath.

"What the fuck?"

Inside, Rafe is kneeling in front of you as you sit on the bathtub, doing his best to calm you down. Two decades worth of pain is being released, and it seems like nothing can quell the ache in your chest.

Your father's words about being a Mayabnk bounce around your head, and it only makes you bawl harder. Rafe's eyes widen when you start heaving from the force of your sobs and he considers calling JJ.

"Can you try and breathe for me baby? This isn't good for our little ones."

He immediately regrets his words when your lips turn downward and you whimper, guilt now eating at you along with everything else.

"Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I am a Mayabnk through and through. I mean, I've done a lot of shit over the years. I've hurt a lot of people and caused a lot of trouble."

Rafe frowns, his fingers squeezing your thighs where they rest to get your attention.

"People do bad things when they're trying to survive. It doesn't make you a bad person. I hope you know I'm proud of you. I see how hard you're fighting, and you've come so far. You might feel stuck, but you're not."

Another tear cascades down your cheek as you blink at him and he gives you a small smile.

"When I told you I loved you, you know I meant it right? I'm not just talking about all those warm feelings. I'm talking about putting in the work. I'm here to stay for the hard parts, not just the pretty ones."

Your hand comes to rest on his cheek and Rafe leans into your touch, trying to portray just how much he means it.

"I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this type of love."

Rafe has genuinely never felt such agony as your words seep into his soul, and he shakes his head.

"Don't say that. It's not about what you think you do or don't deserve. I get to choose who to love. I'm an adult, and I can make that decision. I love you on purpose. So I'm here to stay. I'm in this."

His lips press to yours so delicately, as if you'll disintegrate under his touch while he tries to make you feel his love. You're interrupted by a knock at the door and he pulls back, pushing a stray hair behind your ear as he answers.

"Come in."

JJ peeks his head through the door, a timid smile making his dimples pop out. He returned shortly after he left, concern for your well-being overtaking him.

"How goes it?"

There's a beat of silence as the two of you stare at each other, both your faces splotchy as dried tears make the tight skin itch. The two of you look a mess, hair ruffled and runny noses telltale signs of your distress.

JJ's lip quivers and that's all it takes for the two of you to burst out laughing. Rafe looks at you like you've grown a second head, genuinely baffled at what could possibly be funny. It dies down to giggles after a minute and you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

"It was always going to end like this, wasn't it?"

JJ shoots you a sad smile, his eyes zeroed in on a bottle of shampoo.

"Yeah, I think so, cupcake."

You purse your lips and nod, the truth a nasty pill to swallow. Suddenly, JJ's raw voice fills the air and Rafe looks up at him.

"Can I talk to you outside for a second, bro?"

Your boyfriend pecks your forehead and stands, following your brother out to the screened-in porch. He waits patiently, letting the blonde gather his thoughts.

"Thank you for what you did back there. She feels safe with you, and I think she's been needing to get that shit off her chest for a long time. You gave her the strength, and I just want you to know I'm grateful. It helps me sleep to know she's with someone that I can trust to protect her."

Rafe's hand rubs the back of his neck, not used to your brother being so candid. If you had told him a year ago that JJ Maybank would use his name and the word trust in the same sentence, he would've called you crazy.

"Of course, man. I care about her more than I care about myself and there's nothing I wouldn't do for her. Whatever she needs, I'm there."

JJ pulls him into a half hug and slaps him on the back before leaving to go back inside. Rafe just stands there for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to regain his composure.

When he's confident he's got it under control, he returns to find you cuddled up on the couch watching reruns of Spongebob. A smile tugs at his lips as he joins you, his hands coming to rest on your belly out of habit.

"It's going to be okay, right?"

Your voice is small as you whisper the question, and Rafe shifts to look down at you.

"One day it's going to be great. All of the hardships will be distant memories and you'll be in love with your life. I promise."

Your face nuzzles into his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. As long as you have each other, everything will always turn out okay.

@i-love-rafe @itsmytimetoodream @brynley-a-xoxo @whore4drew @houseofperfecttaste @everythingmarveltopgun @f4ll-for-you @athenabarnes @antagonize-me-motherfucker @writtenwordslover @madsnxo @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starrystarkey93 @keylin1730 @fulla02 @loving-and-dreaming @evening-starlight @ibleedcalories @badasspizzalover @veescorneroftheworld @pinkpantheris @brooklynscherry-z @starkeylover @sebastiansstanswhore @lothiriel9 @katzarantos @gillybear17

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron series #outer banks fic #outer banks #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx

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edenfenixblogs · 4 months

Note

hey i saw the post about your cousin's bar mitzvah, and well first of all congrats to her. but also uh one thing you mentioned made me curious- what *am* i supposed to do should i find a dead body on the side of the road, if it's no problem for me to ask? not to worry you or anything like that but i guess it'd be useful to know if i pass a car crash on a road trip again.

Ah! What a good ask!!!! I see you committing to the act of learning more about Judaism as an act of allyship, and I appreciate you! Thanks so much for taking an interest.

Obligatory disclaimer: I’m not a biblical scholar or a Talmudic expert. I’m just a Jew who likes being a Jew.

So my Torah portion was in Leviticus. For those who don’t know, Leviticus and Numbers are often considered the doldrums of Torah books. It’s not where a lot of the well-known exciting parts happen. Those books generally contain a lot of lists of rules and mitzvot.

But this is actually why I like the way Judaism reads the whole Torah in order. It forces us to confront the “boring” stuff. And in so doing, we have to think harder about why that stuff is included in our books.

So that’s why my assigned portion was interesting to me.

The actual text basically says “don’t touch dead bodies.” But I remember reading the Talmudic scholarship which was especially interesting because its focus was to elaborate on all the exceptions and then talked about the importance of doing good deeds without a reward and not punishing those who need to do things like touch dead bodies.

The point of the text isn’t to condemn people who are doing the “forbidden” thing without any cause. The text outlines a lot of rules (many of which are not relevant anymore) and, frankly excessive punishments for breaking the rules.

But Judaism doesn’t end at the literal text. Talmud (rabbinical interpretation) is equally important.

My take on the material was this:

There are some things that, on the whole, we shouldn’t do. We shouldn’t touch dead bodies. We shouldn’t come to synagogue when we are sick. We shouldn’t cheat on our spouses. Etc.

But sometimes, you do need to break the rules. And for some things, someone must always break the rules. There must be someone in any community whose job it is to touch dead bodies. Someone must bury the dead. At the very least.

For people in that position, it is so vitally important that we do not throw the literal text in their face. It is important that we do not condemn them or shun them or otherwise exclude them from our community. Judaism is about community. And you cannot have a community that is based upon excluding people who do essential jobs. Rather, thank them. Because they are doing a good thing with no inherent reward. Quite the opposite. Those people should be celebrated. They take on the hard work knowing it carries risk of exclusion and judgment, but they do it anyway. Because it’s right.

Back in the day, if you saw a dead body on the side of the road and no one seemed available to bury it? Bury it. Give that fallen soul dignity. Then pray about it. Physically and emotionally wash the sin* away. (*sin in Judaism is not the same as the Christian idea of sin. Sin is more akin to an “oops” or “missing the mark.”) And take pleasure in doing something good for humanity and knowing that nobody else had to take on that sin for you.

So, nowadays, if you see a dead body on the side of the road? Call the person whose job it is to deal with that. And thank them for doing this very emotionally difficult work. Welcome that person into your community. Be kind to them. It matters. Because there is no community at all without them and people like them.

And in general? The more broad lesson to this is to of course be kind to people who do unglamorous but necessary work. And to take on that unglamorous work ourselves when necessary. That’s how we keep our community functional and healthy. Do good deeds without expecting a reward. Do what’s right even when you expect a bad outcome. Do good and right things for their own sake, because that’s what we exist to do. Create goodness in the world. The reward is the better world we create.

Thanks for asking @clawdia-houyhnhnm

#Judaism son #dirty jobs #parshat #Torah #Talmud

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tsams-confessions · 1 month

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We're coming off anon with this one boys. It's long and I apologize but it's been weighing on my mind for quite some time.

There are three things people tend to know me for in this fandom. My art, my fanfics, or my thread on TSBS server. Said thread is a place where I talk about the psychological aspects of the show, as well as do character analyses and sometimes even analyze entire lore uploads for the kicks and giggles. I'm a psychology major, I also have ASPD. I made the thread so I could talk about Eclipse, who at the time I suspected had the same disorder I do and which was later confirmed less than a week after I made the thread. Since then Ruin has also been confirmed as an ASPD haver, which I personally deeply enjoy. It's fun for me to talk about my disorder and relate it to the show since ASPD is really hard to understand. 99% of people are inherently capable of empathy, and about 2% of that 98% lose that ability during childhood. So it's understandably not a very well-understood disorder. It's also a very scary and dark disorder, and I can say that honestly because I live with it. Due to this fact, it tends to be villainized in media, and I am very refreshed by the fact that TSAMS does a good job of not making their ASPD havers raving lunatics with a thirst for blood.

Anyways, that's just background information. So far I haven't met very many weirdos about ASPD in this fandom. Almost everyone is very chill with the fact that I am a sociopath and I haven't received a ton of weird comments about it. It's a relief since I deal with a lot of open stigma and harassment irl because I refuse to pretend to be something I'm not. However, there was an instance in my thread when I was actively talking about ASPD, and a new member decided to. . . I don't even know. It was creepy and weird, and really uncomfortable. They basically told me that I'm 'too nice of a person to be a sociopath' and that they could tell that I wasn't a sociopath because they see the good in people. They also said that they were surprised that there are sociopathic people and inferred that sociopaths are pretending, whatever that means. They kept going to keep making weird and stigmatized comments about the disorder, as well as continuing to compliment me in a very unnerving way. I think about it a lot because it was very uncomfortable to be interrupted like that in the middle of talking about ASPD. There was the new mod online and participating in the conversation, but they didn't say anything to the person who was actively making me uncomfortable, even though I expressed such in the chat.

I deal with a lot of stigma and ableism in my day-to-day life, where people tell me that I can't be a sociopath because of really stupid shit. Like the fact, I get along with people or want to help people in the medical field. Or the time-tried 'but you're a woman' comments. I don't understand why the mod kinda just left me to fend for myself and ignored the person causing issues, and while I don't hold it against them, I do have anxiety about this situation repeating itself in the future. It's not easy to talk about a disorder that the average person could not even dream of understanding, and it's even harder when people who don't know you are trying to tell you that your disorder is fake based on flimsy reasoning. It's really invalidating of the actual hellscape I had to survive to be able to even turn 18, and it rakes up my anxiety to a 10 just at the thought of it. There's not a lot of safe spaces for someone to talk about having a dark disorder, and even less for something as rare and misunderstood as ASPD. It's hard enough as it is being a high-functioning sociopath, and I just needed to rant, I suppose. Haha, could make it a "tl;dr even I get offended sometimes."

Anyway, not dropping names, but it wasn't a private matter. Nor am I upset with the mods, it's just a thing that happened that I think about a lot because it's a very rare thing for me to be offended. Glad that the majority of this fandom that I've interacted with has been willing to hear me out ASPD, but I just worry about having a repeat situation like this. It's a very sad thing to witness in this fandom that talks about inclusivity. We can't pick and choose our disorders, and where there are canon sociopaths in the show one would think the fans would try to be a little more educated on the disorder (not directed towards anyone and I appreciate the people who are willing to ask me things about it instead of making assumptions).

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood #ableism cw

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autispec-hours · 1 year

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am i the only one who’s really fucking tired of people being like “ oh these are traits of autism in FEMALES ( and afab trans and nonbinary people i guess ) ”

first , i should not have to be a footnote or a last minute inclusion in my own community , especially given the high percentage of trans non-binary and otherwise lgbt people who are autistic as compared to allistics . do you know how absolutely dehumanizing it is to be forgotten all the time by the people you’re supposed to trust and connect with . and if you are remembered you’re invariably lumped in with your AGAB , even if those traits don’t actually fit you

second , these traits aren’t inherently gendered in the first place . it’s about the way you were raised . my cis brothers have a lot of ‘ female ’ autism traits , and me and my cis sisters have a lot of ‘ male ’ autism traits . these things are normal and relatively common . yes , there is a correlation between the way society raises girls and boys differently and the way we develop socially , but acting like that’s an absolute is disingenuous , imo

i understand the need to separate it into categories . that’s natural for all human brains . but as we’ve all said many times before , autism is a spectrum . it’s never going to be one to one , for anybody . and i’m really tired of people subtly reinventing functioning labels over and over again , on top of it being a very obvious way to reinvent the gender binary

cause it very much ends up being ‘ female ’ autism that directly correlates to the high-functioning label , and ‘ male ’ autism that correlates to the low-functioning label . “ oh , girls are good at masking ” “ girls will make eye contact ” “ girls are just so quirkycute none of their traits are negative unless they mask too much uwu ” ( and you know they’re including trans men and AFAB non-binary people in ‘ girls ’ )

i don’t know how to fix this . i don’t know what to do about it . i just know that there’s a reason most of my friends are both autistic AND genderqueer . because some of y’all cis autistics really like your gender roles , and it’s incredibly alienating

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y2kbugs · 8 months

Text

Why Rincewind deserves your love

Tumblr loves characters like Rincewind right now. The sad, weary one who really doesn't want to be here but does it anyway cause no one else bothered, and is often vulnerable, cowardly, and a weakling compared to everyone else. In other words, the pathetic wet cat, the poor little meow meow.

Vimes is also a perfect example of this archetype, he's there and he's great, but Rincewind to me is a sort of hidden gem bogged down by the author's early writing and the struggle to live up to those later, more deep characters. It doesn't really help that Pratchett also got bored of writing him, and only felt obligated because he had fans (which in a way sounds like Rincewind himself), but...

The first two books aren't even bad. The only thing I'd say is that TCOM has some confusing writing going on and feels more like a collection of stories but it's good and could be better if rewritten. Rincewind is a wonderful character and Twoflower is a delight. TLF is a definite improvement writing and character wise and gives development to Rincewind.

He's not "a weak character who doesn't do anything but run". He is not badly written. He is a character who does not want to be the hero but does it anyway. He has deep empathy and believes that throwing your life away for a good cause is inherently selfish rather than selfless (and! he does this himself, kind of. He does make a sacrifice to help somebody, but he lives).

He isn't stupid. He might be the smartest character in his books, but that's more because the other characters are relatively kind of dumb. The only thing he's really bad at is being a wizard, that's it. He's not a good wizard, but he's a great strategist, he knows a lot about magic, knows almost every language on Discworld and this was how he got to know Twoflower in the first place. I would call him an average intelligence and very high wisdom character in DnD. He's intensely rational and will point out gaps in reasoning and logic. He might be a pessimist, but he has experience and he's going to use that.

That's not to say he doesn't make mistakes. He absolutely does, but making dumb mistakes is much different from willful and sheer ignorance which he does not display.

His hat says "Wizzard" because it's supposed to be a pun on "he can't spell", and it's highly unlikely that he actually misspelled it not knowing the actual spelling considering he reads a lot.

He is very, very defensive and adamant about his identity as a wizard. It's pretty much everything to him and he has a crisis whenever other characters mock and have general distrust of wizards.

He's done the following:

Beat the shit out of an eldritch horror until it ran away from him (TLF),

forced an extremely powerful spell out of his head with sheer will (TLF),

Defeated the most powerful deceased wizard possessing a magical staff with only a brick in a sock, and took both himself and the wizard's son into the Dungeon Dimensions, where he fought back creatures to allow the boy to escape. (Sourcery)

Gave the boy a speech about how it's important to not let anyone define who you are as a person and no one should have to tell you what to do (Sourcery)

Used a whole terracotta army to beat an entire army, and succesffully intimidated them via psychological tricks. (Interesting Times)

Brought rain back to Fantasy Australia and talked back against Death who convinced him to give up. (TLC)

Maybe he's not the most sympathetic character, because he's not chivalrous or manly. He has no bravery and freely admits to being a coward, he's kind of a jerk who cools down as time goes on, and he's selfish enough that he thinks being selfless is a total waste of time and is selfish in itself. He's a cynic and a pessimist with a worldview shaped by his terrible experiences on Discworld, but he's very well-traveled even against his own will, and from this experience he knows precisely how to get out of danger, how to outsmart an individual (or a whole army) and more.

He's shown empathy. Being tired at the world at large and not liking the other wizards very much but going out of his way to save the world from a wizard gone rogue anyway because nobody else bothered to and he's angry, saving a boy from his abusive father's power and diving headfirst into the Dungeon Dimensions, trying to convince an "army" of mostly children why trying to fight against a legitimate army of warriors is a horrible idea and will only get them killed, Helping some thirsty sheep out to get access to water despite not needing to, bringing rain back to Fantasy Australia even though he could have given up and gone home at any moment, being made a "test subject" for the wizard's project in creating Roundworld/Earth, learning aabout the life on there over millions of years and talking about how hard it is for life to grow on there in its earliest millions of years, teaching Roundworld inhabitats the importance of art and creativity not only to outsmart the elves but because he wanted to (while the other wizards considered him stupid for this idea).

And he doesn't want to be a hero, he has no obligation to and is perfectly happy just being alone in the library and reading old books. He wants a life of peace and quiet and nothing life-threatening, but unfortunately he's pushed into these situations. Often though instead of simply resigning himself and giving up altogether, he sucks it up and goes and does it anyway with the expectation that he can go home in the end. That, and by now he's already expected this is his role: to fix shit and go home, even though he'd love to have someone else do his job.

It rubs me the wrong way to see people call him one-dimensional or just "the guy that is scared and runs away"...That to me is like simply calling Vimes "the depressed cop who drinks a lot" or Granny Weatherwax "the old witch who kicks ass". Of course the character will seem one dimensional if you describe them that way. Vimes is better written overall and gets better development for sure, which is also what his character is built for, as well as a more serious story that doesn't lend itself as well to basically slapstick. Rincewind isn't built for overcoming his fears, but rather his selfish attitude and to finally find peace with himself, and he works as a comedic character while also balancing out the fact he can be anything other than a clown or coward.

He gets what he always wanted in the end too. Pratchett might not have wanted to write him anymore, but instead of simply putting him on a bus, he gave Rincewind a position at Unseen University, only dampened by the fact the other wizards clearly don't respect him, therefore he can't really be a professor as a job, but he doesn't mind. In fact, he loves that. He gets free food, a quiet place to stay, and has zero obligations. He's happy, and the last thing we know of him is that he's studying the effects of plants on the nervous system (Raising Steam), and he's very important in the Science Of Discworld series, initially being a test subject and later being the "to go" for information about Roundworld/Earth, even getting to keep the globe in his room.

#discworld #rincewind #this initially started out all casual but then it got long and essay-like as i am prone to writing #i probably got things wrong...correct me

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 days

Note

the officialized Dadstarion request:

I was thinking that Astarion is trying to teach his moody pre-teen dhampir how to fight and she’s not having a good time, because why would someone as strong as her bother with mortal weapons, let alone some knives. But Astarion is pretty set on teaching her how to defend herself in a way that has her rely on skills other than her inherent dhampir powers.

There’s definitely a clash of opinions but both slowly get where the other is coming from—Astarion who was weak and had to learn how to be strong; his kid—born strong having to come to terms with the fact that strength isn’t everything

Thank you, hehe ✨

Ooof, I finally made it! Hope you will enjoy the story about how to train your dhampir!

If you wonder who is Nris and how he ended up in the Ancunins' basement, you can read The Dead, the Half-Dead and the Undead (but you don't have to).

Synopsis: Astarion teaches Alethaine how to fight

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, necromancy, father-daughter relationship, Tiriel is being a bitch, slice of life

Alethaine's age: 11

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Alethaine drops her bag on an empty chair and yawns, showing her dhampir fangs (and causing a tiny human child next to her to flinch).

The teacher, an elderly tiefling with a broken tail, explains the town’s kids things so basic that the dhampir already knew them when she was four.

Unfortunately, there is only one person in the whole Daggerlake who has decided to teach the local kids at least something, and once a week, a bunch of children aged eight to fourteen gather in a small hut to listen to the tiefling bragging about the “good old days” and also learn some basics of math and Infernal.

“What are you doing here?” a dwarven girl, Rutha, whispers. “I thought your dad locked someone in the basement to teach you...magic stuff!”

“Nris knows no shit!” Alethaine answers. “All he teaches me is how to draw stupid runes and sigils and he can’t even raise a dead dog from the dead!” She stumbles. “Wait! How do you know dad locked someone in the basement?!”

“Everyone in town knows Astarion kidnapped a dark wizard,” Rutha shrugs. “He’s been there for how long? Does your dad feed on him?”

Alethaine bites her lower lip. It was supposed to be a secret along with her necromantic abilities. A year ago she accidentally revived a dead kitten. As if the gods had decided that elf-dhampir wasn't enough and also gave Alethaine an innate talent for necromancy.

Sorceress.

That’s what Alethaine Ancunin is.

Her dad, Astarion, faced and solved this problem in his own manner: he brought his daughter a teacher. Nris, a poor necromancer whose soul had been sold to the devils. Astarion broke the necromancer’s pact but made him sign another. Nris was supposed to teach Alethaine necromancy while hiding in the basement of the Ancunin’s house as long as his service was needed.

“No, he just lives there. And he is a useless piece of shit!” Alethaine says in her normal voice as the human boys who sit in the front row start arguing with the teacher calling him a demon.

“Why is that necromancer still there?” Rutha exclaims.

“I AM TIRED OF YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” the teacher yells and drags one of the boys to the board.

“Because of my mum!” Alethaine answers. “Dad wanted to get rid of Nris in a week. And you know what happened? Mum went down to the basement, looked at the necromancer, and yelled that he owed her money!”

“How so?”

“OH, YOU WANNA A FIST FIGHT?!” The tiefling roars at the ten-year-old. “YOU WILL GET A FIST FIGHT!”

Alethaine got closer to Rutha.

“When mum was twenty, he gave her a quest to retrieve some magic item from some ogres. She did find it, but the ogres broke her hand in two places. When she came back, Nris refused to pay and Mum had to stay in a temple till she fully recovered. So, Dad calculated the interest since it’s been almost fifty years ago and also the moral damage – and now Nris is staying till he pays back by teaching me!”

A wooden chair flies over the girls’ heads and smashes against the wall.

“YOU MOTHERF –” the teacher suddenly remembers he is in the room full of children and switches to Infernal. The insults pour down on them and Alethaine takes a piece of paper to write down at least a few words. Who knows, maybe she will need to make a devil cry one day?

“Slow down!” Alethaine yells back. “I am taking notes!”

Someone in the classroom joins the screaming match and Alethaine’s head starts aching. Acute hearing causes more trouble than common people think.

… When Alethaine leaves school (if one can call it that), it’s still afternoon. Usually, the dhampir helps the healer with the herbs – the halfling doesn’t see in the dark of the underground tunnels and can’t walk up the walls, so Alethaine has been helping her since she was five. Kelma pays her and the dhampir often has some money to spend on herself, especially when traveling sellers visit Daggerlake or her parents take her to Secomber, a bigger city fifty miles to the West.

Alethaine takes the stone stairs and walks to the underground part of the town. The dhampir has no idea why Kelma prefers to live there without dark vision, but it seems like she is perfectly fine in the shadows.

“Oh, you are early today,” Kelma says, seeing Alethaine entering the yard.

“The teacher fought the smith’s daughter.”

“Ah, he’s drunk his own brains with fire whiskey. I have no work today, Aletha, take a day off.”

“Don’t you need anything?”

“Do you want to help me clean the hut? I can give you the rugs to mop the ceiling,” the healer chuckles.

“Nope.”

“I thought so. You know, Alethaine, you were always a bit lazy. Tiriel would come to me asking if it was normal for an elf to sleep as much like you did.”

“Kelma—” Alethaine groans.

“Oh, and I remember you absolutely refused to walk when you already could. Why bother walking if mum and dad carried you around? They have been spoiling you rotten, especially Astarion!” Kelma laughs.

“You know Kelma… I will busy myself with something!”

“Good, Alethaine. Tomorrow, I will need your help to carry sacks around.”

“The teacher wants to give us a test in math tomorrow.”

“Do you care?”

“No.”

“Then I expect to see you at noon,” the halfling takes her pipe out and smokes.

Alethaine closes the fence. She doesn’t want to go home – Tiriel will try to force her to learn magic from Nris. And not because she really thinks he can teach her anything, but because she wants compensation for what the necromancer did to her fifty years ago. To her daughter, Tiriel has never come across as vindictive;now Alethaine thinks her mother will rip the throat of anyone refusing to pay for her services in battle.

So, the dhampir goes further into the underground tunnels.

This part of the town is completely prohibited for the town's kids, but Alethaine has been going there since she was little. The tunnels are a part of some ancient temple that disappeared into oblivion millennia ago. They spread further and further under the ground, nearly reaching the Underdark.

And the whole place is deliciously creepy.

Alethaine jumps on what looks like a part of the wall, spreads her arms as if she needs to keep her balance and walks forward.

The sounds of the town fade as the girl explores the dark place.

Alethaine Ancunin sees the world in shades of gray. She senses the presence of creatures full of warm blood and skeletons buried beneath the stones.

Skulls can tell a lot if one knows how to make them talk…

Someone grabs Alethaine from up above. She smells fresh blood and senses the familiar embrace.

“Dad! Let me go!” She laughs as Astarion holds her a few feet above the wall.

“Hm? Should I?” he chuckles. His shirt is blood-stained and his skin is unnaturally warm.

“Yes! Dad, let me go!” Aletaine insists and he immediately puts her back.

Then, Astarion jumps on the wall and now they stand in front of each other. Alethaine smiles and hugs him.

“I thought you didn't want me to hold you?” he mocks her, patting her back.

“I don’t like being held upside down!”

“It’s actually ridiculous because it’s natural to walk like that” he sits at the edge of the wall. Alethaine joins him. It’s about twenty feet to the solid ground and it would concern Alethaine if a fall could do any harm to her.

Well, it still can. When Alethaine was eight she had a nasty fall into a crevice and broke her leg. She crawled back using her spider climb and then went straight home. It took her longer with a broken leg and she ugly cried because there was no one around. By the time she arrived home, her leg had already healed thanks to her regenerative abilities, but it didn’t mean the whole experience was less horrifying for the little dhampir.

Alethaine remembers entering the house, all dirty, with a blood-stained dress, without one boot, hair dirty and messy, limping (because the leg hurt as hell) while her parents were talking in the kitchen. Now that she is eleven, she suspects she witnessed Astarion drinking Tiriel’s blood.

She knows her father dines on her mother’s blood. She also knows that it involves adult things she isn’t supposed to see.

“How was school?” Astarion asks, taking his daughter’s hand. Alethaine’s skin is as pale as his.

“I learned how to swear in Infernal.”

“A rather practical skill!” he laughs. “I had a fight with a behir. Rather horrible beasts. And their blood tastes… weird”

“Do you drink any blood?” she suddenly asks. “Like, will any living creature do?”

“Blood is blood,” Astarion shrugs. “I can feed on fleas and worms as long they are alive.”

“Ew! Gross!” Alethaine cringes and her father smiles. There is something bitter about it, but Alethaine doesn’t know why.

“...your mother's blood tastes different from that of any...,” he sighs dreamily and Alethaine covers her pointy ears.

They sit in silence for a while.

“You need to be careful,” he says. “There are many dangers in the tunnels and also in the woods.”

“I can deal with danger! I am a dhampir!” She bares her fangs and then takes a boulder that weighs almost as much as hers and tosses it into the air like a rubber ball. “I can rip their throats and break their bones. And I also know dark spells!”

“Alethaine, you are eleven. You aren’t invincible. I want you to be careful.”

“What for? I can fight an ogre if I need to! I am a Dhampir and a necromancer, I already know more than this filthy man you locked in the basement!”

Astarion’s face gets a serious expression.

“You know more than him, princess, because he is a wizard and you are a sorcerer. He taught himself all the things you were born with. But it doesn't seem like you know how to use these skills.”

“I will be fine!”

“All right then,” Astarion chuckles.

Aethaine turns around and suddenly a cold grip closes on her throat. Astarion’s eyes glow red.

“Dad…”

And then he jumps from the wall dragging her with him. In a heartbeat Alethaine finds herself restrained on the stones with her father’s knees on her ribcage and his dagger against her neck.

“So, where is your strength and where is the necromancy?” he asks softly. “If I were an enemy, you would be already dead.”

Alethaine pushes Astarion and he lets her go. The anger awakes something feral in the dhampir, the predatory side that screams “kill the vampire,” and she jumps on Astarion.

KILL THE VAMPIRE.

Only to be thrown away.

Astarion moves gracefully, holding daggers in his hands.

“Cast a spell.”

“But—”

“Cast at least something, princess, since you are so proud of your abilities!”

Alethaine raises her hand. For a brief second, her fingertips prickle, and a green ray strikes Astarion.

And nothing happens even though Alethaine is sure he has been hit.

“What do the drunkard at school and the moron in the basement even teach you…” Astarion mutters. Now, he looks just disappointed. “I am undead. I am immune to necrotic damage!”

“Fuck,” Alethaine says.

“Fuck indeed. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I am fine.”

Astarion kneels in front of her. “Princess, you are not invincible. Many things will want to hurt you. And if you don't know how to protect yourself, you will die. And you’d better pray you just die in the blink of an eye not feeling anything. Because there are things worse than death. Being trapped by a hag. Being a slave in the Underdark. Getting your memories and personality erased. Turning into a disgusting monster. You can’t turn into a vampire, that’s for sure, but dhampirs are our worst enemies. Your mother and I released seven thousand bloodsuckers into the Underdark and who knows how many vampires are there now. And if they learnt you exist, young and innocent, they will want you dead before you become a menace.”

Astarion hands her a dagger.

“You need to learn how to fight.”

Alethaine is tired, dirty, and angry.

Every time she thinks she understands how to use daggers in a fight, she somehow ends up on the ground over and over again.

Or against the wall.

Or with a blade against her throat.

Or face down with her father pressing a knee on her back.

And over and over again she is forced to stand and try again.

Her bones have been broken at least thrice. One time she even lost consciousness after Astarion pushed against a boulder. She woke up in a second and tried to bite her dad but instead ended up in a pool of dirt once again.

“You are dhampir!” he encourages her. “You are stronger than I am! You don’t have my weaknesses! You can take me in a fight!”

“Who said that,” Alethaine sniffs and tries once again.

And again.

“I am tired,” she pouts. “And hungry. We can try again later!”

Astarion looks at her and nods.

The moment he turns around, Alethaine snatches the dagger and stabs his hip forcing Astarion to fall down with a short cry.

She pulls the blood-stained dagger and jumps on him, pointing the weapons at his face.

Astarion stares at her in shock and then starts laughing.

“You did it! Gods, Alethaine, you did!” He sits up and hugs her. “My ferocious little princess, you took me down!”

Alethaine looks at his hip which has already stopped bleeding.

“It was fun,” Alethaine admits as they return home.

“I suppose you enjoyed the part when you threatened to cut my perfect face?”

“It was fun to fight. I want to know more about fencing!”

“I will teach you, don’t worry. You will challenge evil vampire lords to duels and end their pathetic lives!”

Alethaine smiles holding her father’s hand.

“I will tell Nris you are tired,” he says when they approach home.

“Dad… about that… Could you please send him away?”

“Your mother wants him to stay.”

“And I don’t! The whole point was for him to teach me, not Mum to get her revenge!”

“All right, I will talk to her,'' Astarion promises. “Now go and clean yourself before eating.”

Alethaine spends an hour in the bath washing off the dirt and sweat. She hears her parents talking but can’t decipher their words.

When she finally returns to the kitchen, Tiriel hands out a plate with dinner in front of her.

“Kitten, so you really don’t learn anything from Nris?” the red-headed warrior asks.

“The drunk tiefling at school teaches me more!”

“Great. I am tired of having a stranger in the house. Besides, we need the basement for something else!” she suspiciously winks to Astarion and the vampires grins.

Alethaine pretends she didn’t hear that.

Tiriel goes downstairs. Something slams against the wall.

“Wake up, moron!” Tiriel yells.

“What now?” Nris grunts as the barbarian drags him upstairs. “Oh, hello creatures of the night. You’ve decided to eat me and end my sufferings?”

Tiriel pushes him to the table. The necromancer looks pathetic – he wears rags, reeks of cheap ale, and the symbol of Thay on his chest is covered with the remains of his last dinner.

“You know, I really needed those ten gold back,” Tiriel grabs his short hair as if she wanted to slam his face against the table. “I was twenty, I was all alone, no soul to care about me and the only thing I wanted was to do my job and get a fucking reward!”

“Mum, I am still a minor!” Alethane protests.

“Kitten, I am well aware of your skills in insulting others!” Tiriel returns back to Nris. “So, imagine me crawling back from that disgusting cave with my hand broken in two, bleeding and tired, only for you, Nris, to take the item and cast me out like a cat on the streets!”

“I am sorry! Tiriel, I’ve already apologized! Astarion, tell her!”

“Nris, there are only two people in this world I care about and neither likes you,” Astarion keeps sharpening his dagger.

“You apologized only because you realized your well-being depended on me, a once poor stupid girl who couldn’t read! Fuck off, I don’t want to ever see you again.”

Nris stares at her with horror. “You let me go? Just like this?”

“Well, not exactly,” Tiriel takes his right hand and breaks the bone with a disgusting cracking sound.

“YOU BITCH!!” the necromancer cries out. “FUCK!”

Tiriel grabs Nris’s collar and drags him all the way to the front door to throw him out like a drunk client in a tavern.

Alethaine looks at Astarion.

“And mum is supposed to be the normal one?” she says.

“Your mum allowed a vampire to bite her, what are you even talking about…”

Tiriel walks back and sits at the table, taking her portion of the food.

“And now you two tell me why you look worse than I did after working for that piece of shit!”

Astarion goes downstairs to the basement. The place reeks of the necromancer even though he has left.

“We need to burn everything down,” Tiriel says, looking around.

“Darling, I am not ready to move anywhere, especially after an arson,” he hugs her and teases her left ear. “But now, the basement is all ours!”

“I actually got tired of wishing for Alethaine to go for a walk every time we want to have sex. Do you remember how easy it was before? Whenever and wherever we wanted!”

“Acute dhampir hearing be damned,” Astarion sticks his hand inside Tiriel’s waistband. “But she can’t hear us from down here; is your desire for justice satisfied?”

“Oh, absolutely! But you’ve made a pact with him, haven't you?”

“I did. So, if Alethaine needs him for something he can’t say no because otherwise his former masters will come for him. He really did need to pay you back then!” His left hand traces along her curves.

“I was hurt and lonely,” she pouts. “It was a cold autumn, and I had to sleep on the floor of the temple of Tyr. I imagined someone hugging me to fall asleep.”

“Hm? Was it an elf with short silver hair?” he chuckles.

“I imagined him with long hair like your people usually have,” Tiriel sticks her neck out, inviting him for a bite.

Astarion pierces the skin and Tiriel’s blood gushes down his throat.

Her blood is unique, no other sentient being can compare. Even small droplets of it satiate him, make his heart beat, and warm his skin.

He lets her go before pushing her on the floor.

“I love you,” Astarion says, getting rid of her clothes as she unlaces his trousers.

“I love you, too,” Tiriel answers, tugging him as close as possible.

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lovingaquarius · 6 months

Text

💐 ANOTHER ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS BY MOI 💐 #3 i believe?

‼️ DISCLAIMER this is completely based on my personal experiences and observations do not take what i say literally i am NOT a professional astrologer‼️

🌸 there’s something with aquarius suns and when upset just going silent. i can attest to this but i’ve seen this alot like if i’m upset at you and can’t leave the immediate vicinity i go MUTE like i can not conjure up the energy or tolerance to say anything. i’m absolutely the type when i’m upset to be on the FARTHEST side of the seat closest to the door cause i just wanna GET AWAY

🌺 maybe it’s bc cancer is ruled by the moon which is a feminine but all the cancer sun males i’ve known have been more feminine or in touch with their feminine and kind of “emotional” (not to cater towards the stereotype that all women are emotional! but we are inherently more emotionally intelligent) they seem to take it rlly personal if you don’t like them back as well. the type who could not be friends with an ex yk

🌼i feel like virgo and capricorn are the placements that like colder, dimly lit environments with a whole bunch of candles lit and blankets -also i feel like cap placements are the ones to be more winter people than summer or spring? lmk if this is resonates with you!!

🌹 maybe some can relate but me and my mercury ruled friend group all will make the most random noises out loud at the most random times. it’s therapeutic honestly 😩 we usually have a random word we’ll make up and keep adding on to it over time until it becomes our own little language LMAO

🌷 idk if this is a gem moon thing because we’re known to be sharers of random knowledge but istg all my friends and some of my family come to me for answers about virtually anything but esp about spirituality. they will literally expect me to have all the answers in the world. i’ve said i don’t know a couple times and ppl have been like “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS!!” LMAOO

🪻 can anyone with 6h neptune or maybe more specifically w piscean energy there (i have aqua sun, neptune in the 12 degree of pisces and than pisces uranus there as well ) have very vivid dreams to the point that you can’t figure out if some things that happened in your life were dreams or not+ frequently have dreams within dreams. i get deja vu at LEAST once a day or i think the correct term would be deja reve which means you feel as if you’ve dreamt that moment before. i’ve had dreams that became real but it’s never important things. for example: before i got my youngest cat i had a dream we got him a year earlier. and then just last week i had a dream that my washing machine started leaking and i ran in there and fell LMAO and then two days later my washing machine started leaking (and this has never happened before) thankfully this time i was careful and did not fall 😌

🌻 let me know if im alone in this but i think it’s kind of funny. i have 11h cancer saturn (rx) and i have all my life struggled with connecting with kids and have never really felt maternal but for my friends i suddenly morph into a whole mother, making sure they’re eating well and sleeping like HUH??

🪷 aries mars/aries 1h

-holding alot of tension in head ex: jaw, eyebrows, neck

^ also getting headaches after crying or getting angry+ have frequent headaches or some kind of headache disorder

a chiropractor could probably be useful for this placement. just ALWAYS be discerning when finding one, getting a good one you trust is essential.

+ face getting flushed easily

(my mom has aries in the 1h and i have aries mars and we both 1. cry when we’re mad, 2. face gets soo flushed from wine, and gets red fast when angry) like sometimes something will make me mad or annoyed and my face will flush and get so hot and red) -its also the same for when i get a LITTLE embarrassed which is NOT often it’s so annoying 🙄

💐 this is specific but as someone w a 7h pieces venus i attract a lot of men with venus in pisces for some reason and i finally get a taste of my own medicine bc they will project all their fantasies onto me and be like “i’m in love with you”…sir we have not had one conversation where you asked anything about me…

🌸 if you have ur moon in the 5h you may be a natural with kids or rlly want to be a mother/parent my mom has this and she is so unbelievably good with kids. all of her family would always drop their kids off at our house so she would take care of them and the PATIENCE SHE HAS WITH THEM?!? unreal. they will be having a whole tantrum and she’ll be holding them just joking around which either made them angrier or calm down but they always would come to respect her and listen. even if they are known to be bratty. they would send their naughty kids to our house and call it “angie boot camp” lmaoo

thank you for reading lmk in the comments if any of these resonate for you! until next time <3

#astrology observations #astrology

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